Doomtrooper: A world where Light rules.

by Ethrak

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Celestia, Crossover, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Human
Length: 10196

Light and Darkness. Ponies and Doomtroopers. Friendship and Flame.

Colonel Mitchell Hunter leads a team of Doomtroopers, elite soldiers specially selected to fight against the servants of the Dark Symmetry. After a battle with a high-ranking servant of the Dark Apostle Semaj, Hunter and his team find themselves in a strange new world.

Will they find a way home? Does the Dark Symmetry extend here, and do the servants of Darkness still need to be fought? Will the team come out of this stronger, or will they be torn apart?

Mutant Chronicles RPG/My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic-crossover.

Tags will be updated as we go.

NB: If you're looking for an action-packed romp, go somewhere else. This fic will only disappoint. There will be action, but very far into the story.

Edit: Reformatted the dialogue sections of chapter 1. It should be easier to read now.

Published 2012-06-25 22:44:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-08-05 05:45:39 UTC

Chapter 1

Colonel Mitchell Hunter, lately of the Capitol Armed Forces, was bored. He’d been sitting in the briefing room for well over half an hour now, and now he was pacing back and forth. “Aren’t people supposed to have shown up by now?” he asked the empty air.

“You need to lighten up, Colonel!” said the other man in the room. Corporal Robert Watts, known to most as Big Bob, sat across the table from where Hunter was pacing, his huge combat boot-clad feet on the table. From one of the many pockets of his uniform he had produced a yo-yo which he spun lazily in increasingly intricate ways. Hunter sighed. Big Bob had always been an unflappable and easy-going type, and very adept at making his own fun.

“You’re right, Bob.” Hunter said, and sat down at the table again.

“Beginning to doubt the wisdom of volunteering for the Doomtroopers, sir?”, Big Bob asked.

Hunter snorted. “Ask me again when I see where we’re going, Bob. I’m just not good at waiting, you know?”. Big Bob knew.

Colonel Mitchell Hunter and his trusted sidekick Big Bob Watts were legends throughout the Capitol corporation. Hunter had led Airborne Ranger teams against the corporation’s enemies in pretty much every warzone the corporation had been involved in, first against conquistadors from Imperial on Mars, then against Mishimans. A quick transfer to the Sea Lions had seen him off to fight Bauhausers in the Graveton archipelago on Venus, and it was there disaster had struck. His orders had been clear. Attack and hold the cargo shipping facility on Kizaki Island. Sadly, no-one had discovered that Bauhaus had sold the facility to Mishima a week earlier, and Capitol was nominally at peace with Mishima’s Venusian branch.

Needless to say, a diplomatic mess-up of immense proportions had ensued. Hunter had been kept out of that, but gotten a set of different problems. His first response to the whole situation had been to punch out the general who had given the operation the go-ahead. Luckily, his record so far was exemplary and he could prove that he had been acting on faulty intel, meaning that the court-martial gave him the option of joining the Free Marines, instead of facing a firing squad.

It was in the Free Marines Mitchell Hunter had met Big Bob for the first time. The Free Marines were an elite unit, composed solely of decorated Special Forces veterans who had been sentenced to death by a court-martial. Big Bob had been an Airborne Ranger, and was court-martialed for “some crap” he refused to further elaborate on. The two of them, along with a team of forty fellow misfits, had been deployed to the MacCraig line, in order to prepare for an assault on what lay beyond, the citadel of the nepharite Saladin and a large portion of the Dark Legion. The Free Marines had been stationed at an out-of-the-way outpost, an outpost Saladin chose to attack that very night. The Free Marines were heavily outnumbered, outgunned and ill-equipped for a holding action, but hold they did. Saladin threw everything it had at them, captured tanks modified with dark, perverted technology, hordes of the zombie-like Legionnaires, and even the powers of the Dark Symmetry itself, but the Free Marines held. When reinforcements finally arrived, the Dark Legion was in retreat, but the only two Free Marines standing were Hunter and Big Bob.

Needless to say, Capitol media milked this heroic action for all it was worth. The pair were hailed as heroes of the corporation. The tale of their fall and redemption was becoming a major motion picture. The handsome, dark-haired, lantern-jawed colonel and the huge, dark corporal with the shaved head and broad smile had appeared on endorsements of everything from breakfast cereal to skis. That’s when the Brotherhood had become interested in them, and someone had recommended them for the Doomtroopers. And now they were sitting here, in a briefing room in the Brotherhood cathedral in Heimburg, waiting for….

The door flew open and a man and a woman in Bauhaus uniforms walked in. The man looked to be in his mid-twenties, tall, broad of shoulder and narrow of hip, with a shaggy mane of unkempt blond hair. The woman was slightly older, with long, light brown hair and a body most professional dancers would be jealous of. She would have been gorgeous, if not for her eyes. They had probably been innocent and baby blue once. Now, they were flat, hard, emotionless. The eyes of a hunter and killer.

Hunter shuddered. For all his experience facing almost any enemy, from Mishiman kamikaze to the nightmares given flesh the Dark Legion fielded, Valerie Duval was one of the few things that still frightened him. However, he still put on a cheery grin.

“Max, Valerie, how good of you to join us!”. Max Steiner looked annoyed, but clicked his heels and dipped his head. Duval just stared at him. Hunter, Duval and Steiner sat at the table. The silence in the room was deafening, only interrupted by the quiet whirring of Big Bob’s yo-yo.

Steiner was the one to break the silence. “Zo, who are ve vaiting for?” he asked in his heavy Bauhaus accent.

Big Bob answered “Inquisitor Nicodemus.”. He paused. “And Crenshaw”.

Steiner whistled through his teeth. “Zey’re bringing in Crenshaw on zis? Must be big…”.

Sebastian Crenshaw was a fixture in the gossip columns of the Luna Observer. Of clan Crenshaw of the Imperial corporation by birth, he had been cast out of the clan at a very young age for reasons known only to him. The black sheep of his family, he had made a big entrance on the social scene in Luna City. His remittance made it possible for him to maintain a high-rolling lifestyle, and he had spent the past forty years breaking hearts and winning friends through-out Luna.

The other side of Sebastian Crenshaw was far less well-known. Crenshaw had been a Mortificator, one of the Brotherhood’s assassins, for most of those forty years. The Mortificators were myths to most. Doomtroopers knew better. They also knew that all Mortificators spoke of Sebastian Crenshaw in reverential tones. His skills were the stuff of legend. That he could appear out of any shadow at will was probably false. That there was no place in the solar system he could not enter, and that he had never failed a mission, was probably true.

The door opened again, and Nicodemus and Sebastian Crenshaw entered. They all knew Crenshaw’s face from the papers, of course. A distinguished-looking man, with a full head of brilliant white hair, a splendid moustache and an easy, genial smile that seemed habitual. However, he moved with a panther’s grace, and his grey eyes constantly scanned the room, ready to spot and deal with any threat. He gave all of them a looking over, judging, assessing, and finally nodding in approval. He was dressed in the uniform of the Mortificators, tight-fitting matte black trousers and a knee-length tunic in the same fabric, slit to the hip on both sides.

Nicodemus, on the other hand, was tall and heroically built, and the left side of his face was made entirely of scar tissue, which made reading his facial expression difficult. His hair was black, close-cropped, and his dark, sunken eyes smoldered with zeal. Even here, inside one of the largest and most well-guarded safe havens in the solar system, he kept the red combat armor and cloak and the black helmet that identified him as an Inquisitor of the Brotherhood, though the helmet was in his hand. Hunter rose and bowed, as did all the others. Crenshaw was a living legend, and Nicodemus a well-known field Inquisitor, one who had destroyed countless monsters and heretics. Besides, even if they hadn’t deserved respect as individuals, no-one failed to give members of the Brotherhood the proper respect.

Nicodemus motioned for everyone to sit. “Sorry I’m late. Interrogation took longer than anticipated.” he said curtly, and rolled out a large map onto the table. “The heretic interrogated was believed to have information regarding a nest of heretics we’ve been tracking, and it turned out to be true. We have identified not only a hideout but the beginnings of a castrum, an underground citadel, led by a nepharite of Semaj tentatively identified as Chaghul.”.

Hunter interrupted. “Chaghul? I thought he was killed on Kirkwood.”.

“So did we.” Nicodemus answered, and continued. “In any case, this castrum is still under construction, and our… source… indicates that the only ones present were some fifty heretics and the nepharite. No monstrosities of any kind.”.

Steiner butted in. “Vere is zis castrum?” Nicodemus pointed to the map. The team leaned forward and looked. The place Nicodemus had pointed to was in the jungle less than five hundred miles south of Heimburg. All the team members sat back in shock.

Nicodemus nodded at the others. “Yes. If this castrum grows to full size, the best case scenario is that Bauhaus is forced to withdraw soldiers from other areas on Venus making humanity weak, and opening up other areas for incursions by the Dark Legion.".

Duval spoke up for the first time. “Worst?”.

“Heimburg is overrun.” Nicodemus stated flatly, and let the implication sink in.

Steiner was the first to regain his faculties. “Do ve know anyzing about ze interior?” he asked.

Nicodemus shook his head. “The heretic did not survive preliminary interrogation. Any further questions?”.

“Just one.” Big Bob rumbled. “Why send us? Why not just bomb the place flat?”.

”They will.” Nicodemus answered. “The installation is important, but our target is the nepharite. Chaghul has already died once, and we need to make sure we get it right this time.”. He straightened. “If there’s nothing further, there’s a Doomlord transport standing by. It will drop us three miles south of the castrum.". He pointed to a point on the map. "Extraction is the same site, four hours after deployment.". He turned to Hunter. "Colonel Hunter, I hereby relinquish command to you.”.

Hunter nodded. “I hereby assume command. Assembly at the landing pad as soon as anyone’s ready.”

Twenty minutes later, the team assembled at the landing pad and began to march into the Doomlord. Steiner, wearing the pristine white armor and skull helmet of the Venusian Rangers, which made Hunter feel slightly jealous and more than a little self-conscious about his own battle-scarred and hastily painted armor, and carrying two elegant, lavishly decorated machine-pistols. Nicodemus, in red armor and black helmet, power stabilizer unit on his back. The tubes on the stabilizer, which symbolized his mastery of the power of the Light, flared out over his shoulders like a peacock’s tail. The Book of Law, a pistol and a straight sword hung at his belt. Duval had complemented her uniform with a white breastplate, and waved her weapon of choice, two tonfa sporting wicked-looking blades, as if she dared Hunter to say something. Crenshaw wore the characteristic Mortificator helmet and cloak, and carried a pistol at his hip and two of the curved two-edged swords Mortificators favored on his back. And Big Bob was….

“Bob… what in the name of the Cardinal is that!?”, Hunter blurted out.

Big Bob put on his best shit-eating grin. “This old thing? Atlas Mega-cannon. Twin-linked 30mm auto-cannon mounted on a shoulder harness. Prototype”.

“And you expect to use that monster underground… how, exactly?” Hunter wondered incredulously.

Bob’s grin didn’t waver for a split second. “Never know when you might need to take down a helicopter, SIR!”.

Hunter sighed theatrically and his shoulders slumped. Bob’s grin widened, if that was at all possible, and he walked up the loading ramp.

Hunter checked the safety on his own weapon, a trusty old Capitolian shotgun. He looked at the coin he carried around his neck. It was a large gold ten thousand Cardinal’s Crown piece, emblazoned with the seal of the Brotherhood, and the words THE LIGHT AND WISDOM OF THE CARDINAL around the seal. He looked up at the night sky, and slid the coin back underneath his armor. He looked up at the red sun, slowly sliding down behind the eastern horizon, and then walked up the ramp, singing softly to himself.

“Jellicle cats, come out tonight, Jellicle cats, come one, come all. The Jellicle moon is shining bright, Jellicles, come the Jellicle ball…”.

The team dropped at their drop zone and slid into the jungle quietly. Crenshaw moved through the trees, and Steiner put his jungle survival skills to good use, leading them through the jungle by map and compass, without landmarks to guide him. It was already dark when they found the entrance. A fire stood in a clearing in the jungle, next to a hole in the side of a hill. Six men were sitting around it… but one of them clearly had horns, and another had a spike instead of a hand. The spike’s chitinous plating gleamed in the firelight, visible from the bushes on the other side of the clearing. There were gleams of gun-metal visible near the fire too. Hunter gave Crenshaw and Duval a few signals. The two of them vanished into the jungle.

The rest of the team hid and waited. Suddenly a sharp crack came from the other side of the clearing. Three minutes later, it was followed by a scream. Then there were a few seconds of fighting sounds, and then Crenshaw and Duval reappeared. Crenshaw described the abilities of his enemies in one curt phrase. “Bloody amateurs.”. Duval nodded emphatically.

Hunter clicked off the safety on his shotgun. “Alright, let’s go!”.

The team began moving towards the entrance. As they moved across the clearing, a cackling laugh burst forth from nowhere. Hunter raised his shotgun and scanned for a threat. Suddenly, an… entity appeared in front of the hole in the hill. It didn’t walk out. One second it wasn’t there, the next, it was. It may have been human once. It wasn’t human anymore.

The entity stood well over seven feet tall, well-muscled, and its skin was a sickly red. There were cracks and sores covering the visible skin, oozing a thick black liquid, but that didn’t seem to inconvenience the being in the slightest. Its lips were gone, and its mouth twisted into a permanent maniacal grin. It had no visible hair or eyebrows, and its yellow eyes shone with a deep, completely inhuman malice. On the being’s left shoulder a symbol was burned into the twisted flesh, the hated ring and flame of Semaj, Lord of Spite. “Chaghul.” Hunter whispered.

The nepharite spoke, its voice cracked, rasping, with a tone that set everyone’s teeth on edge. “Doomtroopers. Did you really think…” Hunter’s shotgun roared. The others followed their leader but the projectiles merely passed through the nepharite, shredding a completely innocent piece of foliage. The nepharite vanished but the mocking alien voice remained. “How do you think you will defeat me? You can’t even find me! Am I here?” The nepharite appeared. Everyone turned towards it. “Or here?”. An exact copy of the nepharite appeared at the opposite edge of the clearing. “Or here?” This time another copy appeared among them. Before anyone could react, the nepharite had grabbed Duval, lifted her off the ground and smashed her into a nearby tree. Valerie Duval crumpled to the ground and lay still.

Crenshaw rushed towards the nepharite, swords drawn, but it had already vanished again. The voice began speaking again. Hunter ignored it. Instead he cried out.

“Nicodemus! Can you do something?!”

“On it.” the Inquisitor replied.

The tubes on his power stabilizer began to glow a bright blue, and the clearing was suddenly awash in a golden light. The shadows vanished, and the nepharite appeared again. It looked… almost shocked, as far as its features could be read. Big Bob was ready this time. His cannons thundered. And this time, the projectiles didn’t just pass through. They struck home and exploded in a white-hot burst of shrapnel. The nepharite spun, clutching its shoulder. Crenshaw, Duval and Nicodemus moved forward as one, going for the kill. The nepharite shouted words in a language that made Hunter’s teeth rattle and sent chills down his spine, and raised its hands.

In the clearing a vortex opened, a hole of black, screaming nothing. There was a second of absolute stillness. Then the vortex collapsed in on itself with a roar of rushing air, leaving the clearing empty.

Hunter fell through a void. Everywhere he looked there was nothing but a blackness so profound his eyes hurt from looking at it. Suddenly, something appeared in front of him. He braced himself… and landed face first on a mattress of leaves. He groaned, then grabbed his shotgun and started to his feet. Chaghul was nowhere to be seen. The rest of his team was lying on the ground around him, getting up, shaking cobwebs out of their heads.

“Everyone here?” Hunter called. Replies came in from all around him.

“Steiner.”.

“Nicodemus.”.

“Crenshaw.”.

“Watts.”.

Everyone except…. Hunter looked around, feeling the panic rise.

Duval’s white breastplate was easy to find, even among the thick foliage. Hunter rushed forward. Duval was hurt. Badly. She was unconscious. Her breathing was ragged, her pulse racing. Her arm was visibly broken. Her long brown hair was matted with blood.

Hunter clenched his fists. “Light damn it, Duval! Don’t die on me!” he muttered. He looked around. The woods here were… unfamiliar. They didn’t seem like the Venusian jungles at all. But that was something to deal with later. There were more important things to deal with now.

“Duval’s down!”, he shouted. “Crenshaw, get up a tree, see if you can spot something, settlements, landmarks, anything! Steiner, take care of her cuts, and prepare her for transport! Watts, help me make a stretcher!”. Steiner set about getting Duval out of armor, applying bandages and fixating her neck. Big Bob and Hunter drew their knives and began cutting branches and vines, and soon had a crude stretcher ready.

Crenshaw suddenly dropped out of a tree, landing soundlessly among the dry leaves, and made his report. “There are no known landmarks anywhere. A few mountains, but nothing I can recognize. However, there seems to be a settlement of some sort a mile and a half in that direction.”. He gestured. “Also...”

“Spit it out, Crenshaw!” Hunter snarled.

“The sky is wrong.”.

Hunter wasn’t in a good mood to begin with. Crenshaw wasn’t making it better. “What do you mean, “wrong”?!” he yelled.

Crenshaw shrugged, apparently untouched by Hunter’s outburst. “I don’t recognize any constellations and… well, you need to see this to believe it.”.

Hunter snorted. “Alright. Crenshaw, take point, the rest of us are on stretcher duty.”. The team carefully loaded Duval onto the stretcher and set off through the jungle.

After what seemed to Hunter like forever-and-a-half, they reached the edge of the forest. Hunter looked up, and his jaw dropped. The night sky was full of stars of all sizes and colors. They spread from horizon to horizon, studding the night sky like gems on black velvet. A wide belt of distant stars glowed, stretching from horizon to horizon. The biggest change, however, was the moon. Of the settled worlds, only Mars had moons. This moon, however, was much larger than Phobos, perfectly round, and it hadn’t been defaced. The seal of Muawijhe didn’t mar its surface. Instead, the moon spread a silvery light across the lands in front of them.

After a silence that stretched for what seemed like hours, Big Bob spoke. “Where are we?” he whispered.

Nicodemus let out a booming laugh. “In a place where the light rules both day and night! We are truly blessed, if the servants of Darkness attempt to destroy us, and instead, we are brought to a place where the power of light over darkness manifests like this!”.

The others bowed their heads and intoned: “Blessed are we who walk in the Light.”. As they spoke, the horizon began to glow, in the red of the rising sun.

Hunter was still marveling at the sky, when Steiner spoke up. “Colonel, I’ve been zinking.”. Hunter motioned for him to go ahead. “About ze town down there…”. He gestured with his free hand. “How do ve know ze locals are friendly?”.

Hunter sighed. “We don’t.”.

“Zo, should ve really be risking zis?”, Steiner persisted.

Hunter’s head snapped around. “Stretcher down!” he commanded. He then paced over to Steiner, unslung his shotgun and thrust it towards Steiner. “Unless you want to put a bullet in Duval’s head right here, right now, then yes!” he roared. Steiner’s features were unreadable through his helmet, but he took a nervous half-step backwards.

Hunter took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. “Listen, Steiner. Duval needs proper medical attention an hour ago. Either we take a chance on the locals being friendly, or she dies. If they turn out to be hostile, it’s probably nothing we can’t handle. If they’re friendly Duval has a chance to live. You with me?”.

Steiner nodded curtly.

Hunter smiled a completely humorless grin. “Good. Stretcher up!”. They began walking towards the settlement.

Hunter looked at the buildings around him. The structures were in no architectural style he had ever seen. Low one- or two-floor buildings of wood and stone, but no concrete or steel construction anywhere. No defense arrangements of any kind anywhere along the outskirts of town. All windows were much larger than the firing slits he was used to seeing in small out-of-the-way towns. The streets were packed dirt, no asphalt or concrete road surfacing in sight. Where were they? Suddenly, something turned a corner. It looked like a small horse, but its proportions were wrong. Eyes too large and on the front of its head, rather than the sides, muzzle too small, legs too broad and wrongly proportioned, and to top it all off, it had a single horn in the middle of its forehead, and its coat and mane were vibrant shades of purple.

Twilight Sparkle trotted down the streets of Ponyville. She had woken up early, and Spike was still asleep, so she decided to go to Sugarcube Corner to get some muffins for breakfast. Ponyville was still quiet and still so early in the morning, but the birds were beginning to sing in the distance. Twilight rounded the corner, and fell flat on her behind. Her mouth fell open. Five enormous bipeds were standing in the street. Twilight felt her stomach churn with fear. Five huge, unknown creatures here, now. One of them turned towards her. Its forelimbs reached for an object of some kind hanging from its belt. Twilight scrambled backwards. The black-clad monstrosity cocked its head to one side and looked at her.

“Stay back!” Twilight shouted.

The black-clad thing started, and then held up its forelimbs. “Please, don’t panic! We have someone with us who is badly hurt, she needs medical aid. Help us, please!”.

Twilight blinked. Had that thing just spoken? It had. It had asked her for help. Then she saw the stretcher. It was a crude thing of branches and vines, and on it lay a lifeless body. Twilight gulped. “I just wanted to get breakfast.” she thought to herself.

Ponyville Medical Center was almost deserted when Twilight hurled herself through the door, followed by the strange bipeds. The doctor dropped his clipboard and his mouth fell open. One of the bipeds barked a command, “Stretcher down!”. The stretcher carriers put the stretcher on the floor, and the one which had spoken stalked over to him. Twilight didn’t know if these things, whatever they were, had the same body language as ponies, but it didn’t look happy.

Hunter eyed the small unicorn, incongruously clad in an approximation of a white doctor’s coat, glasses and a stethoscope. “You a doctor?!” he asked.

The unicorn gulped. “Y-y-yes” it answered. It was apparently nervous.

“Who wouldn’t be, if five large, heavily armed men barged into your clinic early one morning?” Hunter thought to himself. “Good. The woman on the stretcher needs help.” he said.

The doctor looked at Major Duval, and then turned to the purple unicorn. “Go and get Fluttershy. Run!”.

The little purple unicorn hesitated. “But…”.

The doctor cut her off. “Twilight, don’t. Fluttershy is the greatest expert on non-pony physiology we have, we’ll need her here.”. The purple unicorn nodded and started off.

The doctor unicorn began looking at Duval, poking and prodding. He even levitated over a flashlight and checked pupil reflexes. He muttered to himself as he went. “Left foreleg, class three break… concussion… abdomen distended, possible internal bleeding…”

Meanwhile, Hunter moved over to Duval’s head. “She’ll never forgive me for this…” he muttered to himself, then slid his hand inside her shirt and searched around. The coin, same as he and most soldiers wore, a... locket of some kind… ah. There. He pulled out her dogtags. He looked at them. AB+. He let out a small sigh of relief. Then he turned to the doctor.

“Might want to get someone out here to get blood, Doc.”.

The doctor looked at him, then realization dawned. “Yes, yes, of course. What blood type is she?” He paused. ”Do you even have blood types?”.

Hunter sighed. “Yes, we have blood types, and she’s a universal recipient. None of us have blood that’ll react negatively to hers. I checked” The doctor barked out some orders, something to do with getting a gurney, preparing an operating room and getting blood for transfusion.

The team found themselves led aside into a smaller room by other small equines, these in nurse’s uniforms. Hunter, who had seen quite a few hospitals in his career, noted that procedures and equipment were remarkably similar to what he was used to. The team removed their armor, and showed the nurses where the superficial veins were.

After having been drained of a pint of blood, Hunter was feeling a little woozy. The nurses had taken their blood away, and the team was alone. Hunter began talking mostly to himself. “Problem one solved. Duval is getting help. Now, problems two, three and four and five. Where are we? How do we get home? Where is Chaghul? And why is everyone here a pastel-colored pony?”.

Nicodemus looked at him. “I can help you with the fourth, Colonel. Not here. There was a residual taint of Darkness from the portal, but a nepharite coming through would have left something more. Besides, we’re alive.”.

Hunter nodded. Both were good points. “And the rest?” he asked on a whim.

Nicodemus shrugged. “Wait and see.”.

Twilight ran through the town, over the hills and up to Fluttershy’s cottage. The yellow, pink-maned pegasus was outside, tending to a small bird. Twilight stopped, panting. “Fluttershy…” she gasped.

The pegasus made a startled noise and turned around. “Oh. Hi Twilight. Umm… did you want something?”

Twilight still panted. “Down… Medical Centre… need you… expert.”.

Fluttershy hesitated. “Has somepony been hurt?”.

“Not somepony… some… thing. Please. Go. Now.” Twilight managed to get out. Fluttershy looked confused, but gathered herself and started along the path. Twilight regained her breath. Now something else... letter to Princess Celestia!

Twilight burst into the library and let out a shout. “SPIKE!” Something rustled on the top floor. She heard a great big yawn, followed by Spike’s voice.

“Morning, Twilight. Get those muffins yet?”.

“No time, Spike, I have to send a letter to the Princess.”.

She heard Spike’s feet on the stairs, and the little purple dragon soon appeared. ”But… what about breakfast?”

“Later, Spike. This is important!”. Spike sighed, shrugged, and produced a quill and parchment. Twilight began dictating.

Dear Princess Celestia.
This morning six creatures of a previously unknown kind entered Ponyville. These creatures are bipedal, obviously intelligent, capable of speech, and, while they have not been overtly threatening, potentially aggressive. They came seeking medical treatment for one of their number, who had been severely injured. That one is still being treated at the medical center, but its prospects for survival are unknown. I await your instructions concerning the proper course of action.
Your faithful student
Twilight Sparkle.

“Send it, Spike.”.

Spike blew green fire on the letter which turned it into a ball of green smoke. The smoke vanished out the window. Almost immediately afterwards, Spike belched out a parchment. He picked it up and read it aloud.

My faithful student.
Your report is troubling, to say the least. DO WHATEVER IS NECESSARY TO KEEP THEM IN PONYVILLE, but do not endanger yourself or anypony else. I will be arriving within two hours to ascertain what these beings are and if there is a threat to Equestria.
Your mentor
Princess Celestia.

“Alright, Spike. We need to get back to the medical center.”. Spike’s stomach rumbled

“But Twilight! Breakfast?!” he whined.

“We’ll get something on the way, now hurry!” Twilight answered, and gestured for him to get on her back.

The Doomtroopers sat in the surgical unit waiting room. Crenshaw had been reading from Nicodemus’ Book of Law, and was deep in meditation over some obscure passage. Nicodemus had gone to oversee the surgery. While he claimed not to have sensed the Dark Symmetry anywhere in the community, he felt it was a reasonable precaution. Big Bob had brought out his yo-yo again. Steiner was watching the doors. Hunter was pacing back and forth. “What’s taking so long?!” He asked the air.

Steiner answered him, but didn’t take his eyes off the door. “Zey’ve only been in zere for haff an hour, Colonel. Surgery like zat… it’ll probably be anozzer two hours before ve get news.”.

Hunter let out a groan of desperation. “I need to DO something!”. Big Bob rumbled a suggestion. “Get some local money and buy us breakfast?”. Hunter stared at him.

Bob put down his yo-yo and put his hands up in a placating gesture. “We need to eat sooner or later, preferably sooner since we all lost about a pint of blood. We didn’t bring any rations and we don’t seem to be going home anytime soon, which means that sooner or later we’re going to have to eat the local stuff. And my pa used to say that you can’t get anything useful done when you’re hungry, angry, tired or drunk, and I’m getting hungry.”.

Steiner also spoke. “Ve have ozzer zings to discuss too, Colonel. Vat do ve tell ze locals?”

“About what?” Hunter wondered, bemused.

Steiner began ticking off on his fingers. “Chaghul. Us.” He made a gesture that seemed to encompass all of creation. “Our mission. Our homes and culture. Ve are aliens here. From ze little purple vun’s reaction, zey may very vell never have seen humans.” He gestured at Crenshaw. “His identity is supposed to be a secret… need I go on?”.

Hunter nodded. Steiner was making sense. He looked at Crenshaw. “As far as I’m concerned, we tell the truth, provided we can do so without divulging confidential information. The locals clearly have paranormalists among them, which means there’s a chance they can find us a way home. We’ll need their help, which means we have to build trust. Hearts and minds is the ticket. What do you think?”

Crenshaw scratched himself absently. “I’m with you, Colonel. It’s not like I can just blend into a crowd here. Besides, who are they going to tell?”. Hunter nodded. “Good”. At that time the door opened. Everyone went for their guns.

Twilight had bought a bag of bran muffins at Sugarcube Corner on her way to the hospital. Fluttershy claimed food was a good way to build rapport with most animals, and she hoped these… whatever they were… would be similar. Spike was munching happily on his muffin. The receptionist at the medical center pointed her towards the surgical wing waiting room. Twilight looked at Spike, who slid off her back, and opened the door… and stared into a very large, very dark hole. She looked above it, into the eyes of one of the creatures, a looming creature, hairless except for a black mane on the top of its head, small beady eyes, sharp nose, and small tightly-clenched mouth. It lifted the… thing it was holding. Some kind of weapon, she was certain.

It called into the room. “Stand down.”.Several metallic clicks came from within. It held the door open, and had the decency to look… embarrassed? “Come in. I’m sorry about that.” it said.

Twilight levitated the bag of muffins in, walked in nervously, and shut the door behind her. She looked around. The creatures were much less scary now. They had all removed pieces of their armor and were doing perfectly normal things. A dark-skinned one who made even the other hulking creatures look small was playing with some kind of toy. The black-clad one who had asked her for help earlier was reading a book, his helmet beside him. Twilight looked at them nervously. What to say? She finally decided to go with an old standby from Spike’s comics.

“I come in peace?”. They all looked up at her. She hefted her bag. “I brought breakfast.”.

The dark-skinned one spoke first. “Praise the Light! You just made yourself a new friend.”.

Twilight smiled. Apparently, Fluttershy was right. She levitated the bag over to it. It picked up one of the muffins, looked at it and took a big bite. It chewed slowly, and made little pleased noises. It passed the bag along, and soon the room was filled with sounds of contented eating. The one which had met her at the door licked the crumbs off its fingers and looked at her.

“So, who do I have to thank for that?”.

Twilight gathered herself. “My name is Twilight Sparkle.”. It looked slightly bemused, but nodded.

“Very well. Thank you for breakfast, Twilight Sparkle.”.

Twilight giggled. “You’re welcome. Now, who and what are you?”.

It shrugged. “How specific do you want to get? Our species is known as “human”. By profession, I’m an officer, a colonel, in the Capitol Armed Forces, and my name is Mitchell Hunter. Call me Mitchell, or just Mitch.”.

That was a lot of information at once. However, there was one thing that bugged her. “This is kind of awkward, but… are you mares or stallions?”

Mitchell coughed. “What?” he blurted.

The one in the white armor spoke up. “She means women or men.”. Mitchell glared at it.

“I know what a mare is, thank you, Steiner.” he said testily. “Steiner” shrugged. Twilight noted that “Steiner” had an accent which was very different from Mitchell’s, and it seemed that body language, facial expressions and even tones of voice didn’t differ much from that of ponies.

Twilight smiled awkwardly. “I just want to know if you’re “he” or “she”. It’s kind of rude to have to think of you as “it”.”.

Mitchell smiled. “It’s “she” for the one in surgery, “he” for the rest of us. I’m guessing you’re a “she”?”. Twilight nodded.

“Good.” he said. “Now, where are we, and what will happen to us?”.

Twilight thought, but decided honesty was the best approach. “You are in the town of Ponyville, in the nation of Equestria. As for what will happen to you, Princess Celestia is on her way, and the decision is hers.”. Twilight bit her lip. “Actually, I was sent here to keep you here until she gets here.”.

Mitchell nodded. He didn’t seem at all concerned. “We aren’t going anywhere. We have a comrade fighting for her life in there. We didn’t abandon her when we got to this world, we won’t do it now.”.

Chapter 2

For the next two hours, Twilight watched the humans wait. They said very little. Mitchell paced. The others seemed deep in their own thoughts, but they shot glances at the doors every now and again. Twilight fidgeted. There was so much she wanted to ask, but… no. It was better if the Princess took care of that. Suddenly, the doors to the surgical unit burst open, and the doctor and another human in clad in red armor burst through the door. All the humans in the room looked at them, staring apprehensively. The doctor fired a big smile.

“She’ll live.”

Mitchell let out a loud cheer, jumped to his feet, walked over to the doctor and kneeled in front of him, bringing their eyes level. Twilight heard a quiet, heartfelt whisper. “Thank you. Thank you.” The one in the red armor bowed his head, and mumbled something else, too quiet for Twilight to make out through the helmet.

Mitchell quietly asked the doctor “Can we see her?”

The doctor thought in silence, but eventually nodded. “She’s still unconscious, but if you want to, then… follow me.”

Hunter and the team left Twilight behind and followed the doctor, who talked constantly as they walked. “This was one of the most difficult surgeries I’ve done. You see, the difference between our anatomies is so small that the differences become all the more jarring, for example…" He fell into a long harangue of vaguely familiar anatomical terminology. Hunter tuned him out, and fell into step beside Nicodemus. He looked at the Inquisitor. His face was hidden by his helmet, but the Inquisitor still seemed troubled.

“Nicodemus, what’s wrong?” Hunter asked.

Nicodemus looked at him. “Nothing. That’s what bothers me. This place seems too good to be true, and, in my experience, if something seems too good to be true, it is.” he answered.

Hunter was a bit confused. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Nicodemus clarified. “Everyone’s kind and accommodating. No soldiers, no law enforcement personnel, no defensive constructions anywhere. No signs of weaponry of any kind. No-one has even asked that we give our weapons up, but that may be understandable. But the icing on the cake is this: There is no sign of the Dark Symmetry. Anywhere. Nothing. At first, I thought everything was good, but it seems… too perfect now.” He sighed. “You’re the commander, Colonel, and I’ll follow your lead. Just… be careful.“ Hunter nodded.

Finally, the doctor showed them into a room. Valerie Duval lay there, sprawled across two beds that had been pushed together to accommodate her larger frame. There was almost no part of her that he could discern which wasn’t covered by bandages or plaster casts, but she was breathing deeply and regularly. She looked so small, almost frail, a far cry from the indomitable valkyrie who had put fear into the hearts of so many enemies of Bauhaus and humanity.
Hunter looked at her.

“Alright team, time to face the facts. When we faced Chaghul, what did we do wrong?” he asked.

Big Bob spoke instantly. “We were overconfident.”

“We relied too much on the element of surprise.” Nicodemus said a second later.

After a long silence, Hunter heard Steiner’s voice. “Ve vere overpowered. It vas just too powerful.” he said.

Hunter snorted. Steiner stood impassive, hands at the small of his back. “It had power far beyond vat ve thought. If it hadn’t been able to send us here, ve vould have killed it. But it did, ve’re here, and it got avay.”

Hunter rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Damn it Steiner, why do you have to make sense? Alright. Now we have to speak to this “Celestia” figure and see if we can get home.”

Suddenly, Nicodemus began looking at the wall. His head moved, as if tracking movement on the other side. His gaze slid down the wall, stopping at the door. The door opened, and a new being entered, causing Nicodemus to flinch. This was Princess Celestia, Hunter knew. She was taller than the others, longer of limb, and far more graceful in her movements. She had a horn, much longer than Twilight Sparkle’s, and large wings folded onto her back. Her coat was gleaming white, so bright it almost hurt his eyes to look at, and her mane was all soft pastel blues, pinks and greens. It moved of its own accord, flowing in a breeze that didn’t blow. Her features were youthful, though Hunter could spot crow’s feet in the corners of her eyes. Her violet eyes were warm and maternal, but her mouth was set in a hard line. She wore a tiara and necklace which were clearly symbols of high station, and the way she held herself reflected the absolute self-confidence of those used to wielding power. She looked at him and spoke, her voice a rich, velvety contralto. “We have to speak. Follow me, please.”

Twilight waited nervously. The princess had arrived, and gone in to meet with the humans. The door to the surgical unit opened and the princess and the five humans trooped out. Twilight looked up at the princess, who gestured for her to come. Twilight and Spike followed them out through the door and into the streets of Ponyville.

The streets were now bustling with the activity of everyday life. The party, consisting of a Princess and five large unknown creatures drew a lot of attention. Ponies stopped to bow to the princess and gawk at the humans. Twilight suppressed a giggle as they walked past Applejack’s apple stand causing the orange earth pony to end her sales pitch mid-sentence to stare at them with wide-eyes and an open mouth. After a while they reached their goal, which was apparently a small café on the outskirts of town.

The eight of them now sat at a table in the café, the humans slightly uncomfortably. Princess Celestia had requested cheese and broccoli pie, green salad and tea and then ever so politely asked that they be left alone. The café was now empty and quiet. Twilight noted that while the humans had set aside their weapons, they kept them within arm’s reach, even here. The one in the red armor removed his helmet, and Twilight’s mouth fell open. The left side of his face was gone. In its place was a mass of red, deep, angry-looking scars. She had understood that they were fighting humans of some kind, because of their armor, but she hadn’t realized the implications. What kind of world gave beings scars like that?

The red-armored human bowed his head and spoke quietly. “Light bless this meal, and all those who provided it.“

The others answered with a murmur. ”Blessed are we who walk in the Light.”

Then the five humans began inhaling pie at a speed parasprites would envy. Princess Celestia just watched them, a slight smile playing across her lips. Twilight nibbled a small piece, too excited to do much else. Finally the last human sat back with a contented smile. Twilight poured and passed around cups of tea. When everyone had received a cup, Mitchell finally spoke. “Thank you, Princess. Now, you wanted to talk.”

“Yes, I did. Believe me, it’s not every day five completely unknown, heavily armed and armored beings show up in my realm, demanding medical attention for a wounded comrade.”. She paused. Her eyes hardened. ”I’ll be frank. I need to know who and what you are, what you want, why you are here, how you got here and if you are a threat to my realm or my people.” she stated flatly.

Steiner nodded, and Twilight thought she saw approval in the gesture. Mitchell smiled.

“Well, ma’am, we can do introductions first. My name is Mitchell Hunter. I’m an officer, a Colonel, to be precise, in the Capitol Armed Forces. My companions are…” He gestured to the others. “...Corporal Robert Watts, also of the Capitol Armed Forces.”

The huge dark-skinned one smiled. ”Big Bob to my friends, ma’am.” he said in a respectful tone.

An apt nickname, Twilight thought to herself. She had thought Big Macintosh was big, but Big Bob loomed. He could probably block out the sun.

Mitchell continued. “Major Max Steiner, of the Bauhaus Heer.” Steiner dipped his head, then fixed his grey eyes on Princess Celestia again.

“Inquisitor Nicodemus, of the Brotherhood of Light.” The scarred man smiled nervously.

“And Sebastian Crenshaw, also of the Brotherhood.”. Crenshaw gave a bright broad smile, nodded and then continued to sip at his tea, his little finger daintily crooked.

“The woman in your medical center is Major Valerie Duval, also of the Bauhaus Heer. We are Doomtroopers in service or on loan to the Brotherhood of Light. As for what we want, we want to get Valerie patched up and go home.” Mitchell sighed. ”Sadly, we have no clue where we are, or how we get back. We were sent here by one of our enemies, and we don’t even know how to begin replicating what it did. However, we are no immediate threat to you or your subjects. Our mandate is to fight the servants of Darkness, nothing else.”

Princess Celestia took a sip of her own tea and looked at him. “Good. However, your answer raises more questions than it answers. I need more background. What are Doomtroopers? What is the Darkness? What is the Brotherhood?”

Mitchell’s face turned thoughtful, but finally, he nodded. ”I think the Inquisitor is better equipped to give you that information.”

He looked at Nicodemus. The Inquisitor nodded curtly. “What of it I can give you, at least. I can’t give you the full story. The story of the rise of the Darkness and the Brotherhood only exists in the Chronicles, and to replicate even a word of them is punishable by death.”

Twilight was shocked. Death for speaking about what was obviously an integral part of the lives of these humans? She felt compelled to ask. “Why?”

The Inquisitor smiled. “The Dark Symmetry is insidious, and it can corrupt anything, and turn it against itself. Nathaniel Durand, the first Cardinal, decided that it was better that some few die, than risk that the Brotherhood’s message be corrupted and turned against it. Small differences of opinion concerning interpretations of religious and political texts have caused wars that could span centuries.“

Twilight’s shock deepened. “Wait. Did you say humans fight wars among themselves?”

Mitchell smiled a crooked smile. He sighed again. “Humans are a warlike race, Twilight, and in
the world we live in, lives have always been cheap. Every human in this room is a career soldier, and has killed other humans at some point. Humanity has fought many wars for many reasons.” He began ticking off on his fingers. “Religious differences, political differences, economic differences. Wars have been fought for resources, markets, living space, wealth, political advantage…”. He threw up his hands. ”…or just because it was too much trouble to not have a war.”

Twilight felt as if someone had just hit her between the eyes with a sledgehammer. Equestria hadn’t been at war for centuries. The Guards Regiments, the Princess had confided, were kept around as a training school and outlet for the few poor ponies whose special talents only veered towards violence. Twilight, however, was enough of a historian to know about the wars in Equestria’s ancient history, and the devastation they had wrought. And here this… this… this… alien was claiming his kind sometimes considered avoiding that kind of suffering too much trouble!?

Mitchell looked at her, seeming to read her thoughts. His face darkened. “If it wasn’t for the experience and technology we developed over centuries, we wouldn’t be sitting here. I won’t apologize for it.”

Twilight gulped. For a split second, Mitchell’s kindly surface had cracked. There was something underneath. Something hard. Dangerous. Something which would do violence without a second thought, if it deemed it necessary. “Do humans still fight wars with each other?” she asked.

Mitchell shook his head sadly. “Constantly. I’ve fought against all the other corporations at some time or another.”. He smiled. “At least if you count a bar brawl with some Cybertronic punks in San Dorado.”

That earned a smile from the others. Twilight was horrified. He had hurt other beings, and it was treated as a joke! He continued without noticing her reaction. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Steiner and I took a few shots at each other when I was posted on Venus.”

If Twilight had been shocked and horrified at the humans’ flippant attitude to violence and war earlier, she was now completely flabbergasted. “But… but… but… if you tried to kill each other then, how can you be sitting here, now?!”

Crenshaw put down his teacup. “My people have a saying: I against my brother. My brother and I against our clan. My clan and I against our corporation. My corporation and I against the universe. We all have differences, and we will fight fiercely over them, but we can and will always unite against an outside threat.“ he said.

Twilight nodded mutely, and saw the Princess do the same in the corner of her eye. Nicodemus looked at Hunter, a sort of questioning gaze. Hunter nodded back at him.

Nicodemus began. ”The Brotherhood is a religious group, and one of the six largest powers in the human worlds. The other five are the five corporations, huge commercial entities. Or rather, the nations the corporations turned into after the nation-states collapsed. The corporations, Bauhaus, Mishima, Capitol, Imperial and Cybertronic, formed a common deliberative body called the Cartel, which is overseen by the Brotherhood and used to try to solve problems which involve more than one corporation without resorting to violence. The Cartel also oversees the Doomtroopers. Doomtroopers are handpicked elite soldiers, veterans of countless battles, given additional training and the best equipment money can buy, and sent to do battle with the servants of the Dark Soul. I can’t say much more without violating the edict against replicating the Chronicles.”

Princess Celestia grimaced, clearly wanting more, but nodded. “Perhaps you can tell us something of the Brotherhood’s teachings, then?”

Nicodemus nodded. “The Brotherhood’s message has always been a simple one. All divisions between humans are false, and humanity must unite to survive. The greatest thing anyone can do is to sacrifice for the well-being of others. Revere light in all its forms, for it alone makes life worth living, and is the manifestation of the powers of life and good. Feed the hungry, comfort the suffering, aid the ill, because a burden lifted by many is lighter than one lifted alone.“

Twilight’s heart skipped a beat. Unity. Loyalty. Self-sacrifice. Comfort. Through all that brutality, the Magic of Friendship, in some small way, had still managed to reach their world. The thought warmed her heart. Meanwhile, Princess Celestia looked at Spike. “Spike, would you be a dear and see if we can get a fresh pot of tea?” She phrased it as a question, but her tone of voice left no doubt that it was in fact a Royal command.

Spike huffed, but trundled off. Twilight saw Princess Celestia watch him walk out, every step of the way. When he was out the door Princess Celestia inhaled deeply. Twilight watched her features set into a hard mask. She had seen it before. This was the face she had worn when Discord returned. Princess Celestia was normally so kind and gentle, it was sometimes difficult for Twilight to remember that she was more than a mentor and ruler, but also the protector of an entire nation, and had shown a willingness to protect her people by any means necessary.

“Now, I believe I have some inkling as to what you mean by the Darkness. Inquisitor Nicodemus, can you answer yes or no to some questions or statements?” Princess Celestia asked.

The Inquisitor was silent for a long while. Finally, he made a sour grimace, but nodded. “Would you like me to fill in if there is information I can give?” he asked.

Princess Celestia nodded. “Please do” she answered. Then she drew herself up, took a deep breath, and began. “The Dark Soul is not a being of Creation, but of the primordial Darkness, that was before Creation.” she stated.

The Inquisitor’s jaw dropped. Twilight almost thought his chin was going to hit the table, but then he nodded.

“The Dark Soul is sentient, and seeks to destroy all creation, and reform the Darkness from which it came.” was the Princess’ next statement.

Another nod.

“It manifests in a number of interlinked ways, in the form of ideas, items and entities.”

Nicodemus nodded again. “We refer to this pattern as the Dark Symmetry.” he said.

Princess Celestia pursed her lips and sank into thought for a moment. Then she nodded. “The Dark Symmetry… appropriate…” She paused, thinking. “The Dark Soul itself manifests in sentient forms.”

Nod.

“How many?” she asked.

Nicodemus swallowed, took a gulp of tea, then seemed to steady himself. “Five. Semaj, Demnogonis, Muawijhe, Illian and Algeroth. We call them the Dark Apostles.” he answered.

Princess Celestia pursed her lips. “Apostle? What does that word mean?” she asked.

“It comes from an ancient tongue, spoken on Earth millennia ago. It means messenger, ambassador… forerunner, maybe. Perhaps harbinger would be most appropriate in this context.” Nicodemus answered.

Comprehension dawned on Princess Celestia’s features. She nodded and continued. “Before the Dark Soul began to manifest, a physical seal of some sort was found and broken.”

Nod.

Princess Celestia looked satisfied. Nicodemus let out a shuddering breath. He gestured to Mitchell. Mitchell answered the unasked question. “As for how we got here, we were fighting a nepharite, a high ranking servant, of Semaj, and in the middle of the battle, it opened a portal of some kind. It remained behind, we fell through it, and ended up out in the…” He didn’t get further.

Princess Celestia’s eyes flew wide open and she flew up from her seat. “IT DID WHAT?!” she yelled. Twilight saw her eyes blaze with solar fire.

Mitchell looked panicked, and the other humans flew up from their seats, fumbling for their weapons. Twilight stared at the Princess in shock. The Princess seemed to have noticed their panic, and visibly calmed down. Hunter looked at the Princess, and waved to the others. Knives and swords returned their scabbards, slowly and reluctantly, but they did return. There were some very awkward smiles all around the room.

Princess Celestia returned to her seat. She took a long drink from her teacup. She looked at Mitchell, whose features had twisted into an apologetic grimace. “I’m sorry.” she said. “However, these news are most disturbing. The Dark Soul and its minions are well known to my sister and me, but this realm has its Seals still in place. I have not seen more than two breakthroughs in the past two millennia.” Twilight looked at her face. Princess Celestia seemed worried.

Twilight shuddered, as if someone had walked over her grave. Still, her analytical mind continued to work on its own. The pieces fell together. She looked up at Princess Celestia. “Are you talking about Nightmare Moon and Discord?” she asked.

Princess Celestia smiled at her student. “What turned my sister into Nightmare Moon, yes. Well done, Twilight.“

Mitchell seemed to think. Then he looked as if he realized something, and he looked at Princess Celestia, eyes wide. “Wait. You have seen?! Just how old are you?!” he blurted out.

Princess Celestia arched an eyebrow at him. “Colonel Hunter, I don’t know what social conventions are common in your society, but here asking a mare’s age is a major faux pas.” she said, in an icy voice.

Mitchell looked like he was about to laugh, caught himself, and made a credible attempt at looking suitably chastened. Twilight still saw the ghost of a smile on his face, though. “I’m truly sorry, ma’am. It’s just that… well, humans in our day and age are usually don’t live to be older than forty years. A throwaway line about two millennia… it’s… something from a fairy tale.”

Princess Celestia let out a most un-Princesslike giggle. “It's quite alright, Colonel. I’m not offended. Suffice to say that I have ruled here for a long time. I now have questions of a more mundane nature. What will you do now, and how will you support yourselves during your time here?” she asked.

Mitchell scratched his head and looked thoughtful. “We need to get home. If you can’t help us directly…”. Princess Celestia shook her head, with a sad expression on her face. “… that means we need to do a lot of research, which, in turn means that we’ll need to talk to your paranormalists.”

He drew out a large medallion, made from some yellowish metal, from underneath his armor and showed it to Twilight and Princess Celestia. Twilight looked at it. It had a seal of some kind in the middle, with angular symbols of some kind around it. Writing? Mitchell pointed to the symbols. “I assume your script looks nothing like this?” he asked.

Twilight shook her head. There was no writing anywhere near similar to it anywhere in the world, as far as she knew. It didn’t resemble Equestrian script, or Gryphonic runes. He continued.

“Then we need to learn your script so we can read your books. As for supporting ourselves…” He tapped the medallion. “…we have some gold, as well as a few other knick-knacks we can sell. If that doesn’t pan out, we can always find work.”

Princess Celestia seemed mollified, and leaned forward curiously. “Will you consider coming to Canterlot with me, and work as trainers for the Royal Guard? They would benefit immensely from…”

Mitchell slammed his fists into the table. Twilight jumped. His voice turned dangerously quiet, forceful and menacing. “No. We are not mercenaries. We have already taken oaths of service, both to the Brotherhood and to our corporations. We will gladly work alongside your troops if you need our aid against the Dark, but we will not break sworn oaths. And even if we did, I am not going to leave one of my wounded behind!”

Princess Celestia nodded numbly. Twilight was taken aback by the menace and power in his words. Who would speak to a ruler, even one as benevolent as Princess Celestia, like that?

If Princess Celestia took offense at his tone, it didn’t show. She merely nodded. “Very well. Your loyalty to your cause and your subordinates does you credit, Colonel Hunter. I wish you luck in your efforts, and hope for your quick return to your homes. If you need access to the Royal Library, contact me.” she said.

She turned to Twilight. “Twilight, I am assigning you to assist these humans in their endeavor. “

Twilight felt nervous, and bit her lip, but nodded. This was possibly the most important thing she’d ever worked on. Princess Celestia smiled at her. “Don’t worry, my faithful student. You are the perfect pony for the task. I wouldn’t give you a task like this if I didn’t have absolute confidence in your abilities.“

Twilight’s heart glowed, and she beamed at the praise. Princess Celestia emptied her teacup and rose. “One last thing. I would appreciate it much if the existence of the Dark Soul be kept a secret from here on.” she said. She looked down at Twilight. “I have full faith in my student, but if it were to become common knowledge that the greatest threats in our history were the servants of a greater and more powerful evil… the result would be mass panic. This land cannot afford such a panic. Not now.”

Her amethyst eyes transfixed Mitchell, who quickly nodded his assent. The other humans were quick to follow his lead. “Very well. Good luck, humans. I need to get back to my duties. My student can help you with what you need.”

The Princess left, leaving five humans and a unicorn staring in silence. There was a knock at the door. It opened, and Spike stuck in his head through the opening. “Have you finished talking about the stuff I wasn’t supposed to hear about?” Twilight nodded, and Spike walked up to Twilight’s side.

Mitchell stared at him. “You can talk too?” he asked.

Spike looked offended and growled “Hey!”

Mitchell beat his head into the table softly and mumbled to himself. “I shouldn’t be surprised. What a day. Wake up, shower, breakfast, morning run, a bit of range time, lunch, paperwork, dinner, nap, quick hit-and-run mission. Now I’m stuck in the land of pastel-colored ponies, one of my team members is in the hospital, after being operated on by the local veterinarian, and I’m chatting with a green lizard.”

Spike snorted. “I’ll have you know, I’m a dragon."

Mitchell looked at him. “An honest-to-Light dragon. Now I’ve seen everything.” He sounded like nothing could surprise him anymore.

He sighed, straightened and looked at the other humans. ”Alright team, we need a plan. We need to get money, find lodgings, buy some new clothes, find a secure place to stash weapons and armor. And we need to get someone back to the medical center to make sure Duval doesn’t panic and kill anyone when she wakes up."

Twilight listened and interjected. “I have a few friends who can probably help.”