All Watched Over...

by Gabriel LaVedier

Rating: mature
Tags: Other, Science Fiction, Adventure, Anthro, Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 8340

The caribou had been the rulers of Equestria. Before something else came from beyond to teach them their folly.

Venerunt. Viderunt. Vicerunt.
Mortuus Fuerunt

The caribou had conquered Equestria and much of the world besides. The living god of the monsters spread his toxic influence like a plague, and sickened all the land. There was no hope against a creature that lived beyond consequence and beyond care, existing on whim, will and fiat, with none to make him pay for his cruelty and excesses.

But the rule was always unstable. It needed only a force from elsewhere to crush the paper thin contrivance. The force came, with a bloody vengeance.

Published 2017-03-30 14:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2017-03-30 14:00:01 UTC

All Watched Over...

Present

A mother and her foal walked cheerfully down the road just outside the city of Manehattan. They kept to the long ribbon of cement, slightly to the right to avoid the curb. The mother was a bright periwinkle unicorn with a notably stunted horn, her pastel pink mane done up in a modest bob. Her foal was a young pegasus, with a similar mane color and style, but a body of pale blue. Both were in a similar casual jeans and tee combination, the mother's blank, the filly's containing a depiction of the dancing princesses.

The sun was bright overhead, pegasi seen ordering clouds and creating regular lines to pass momentarily but never completely dominate the sky. All that sunlight reflected off the small street, the steel plates of the surface looking slightly worn but otherwise in good repair. To the opposite side of the sidewalk was a loose collection of shrubs and trees in a vague line, managed like other vegetation but not overly disciplined, into which the filly would occasionally run, emerging with this or that, a flower or bit of bark or some bright berries.

At the end of one short excursion the little filly struggled, tugging some object that looked caught in the tangle of a bush. She wiggled and twisted it, softly fluttering her wings in frustration. “Mommy! This is stuck!”

Her mother gave a cheerful laugh and knelt down to offer assistance. She concentrated hard, horn lighting with some difficulty and slowly parting the branches. “Goodness... what did you find? It looks like a rotten branch. Did you find a fallen limb or something like...” Her cheerful comment ended in a shocked scream, as the parting branches revealed the truth.

The 'rotten branch' was an antler, attached to the dirty, fleshless skull of a caribou, the empty sockets staring blankly out at the bright day, the antler not being grabbed being broken off near the base. Even in death the cervid maintained its dour and ugly look. The very bones of the face looked to be scowling hatefully, as the wretched creature had done in life; not even the loss of the lower jaw served to stop it from a petulant look.

The scream had barely finished when a tremendous clanging rang out, metal-on-metal approaching on the steel street. The source of the sound was a huge, gunmetal gray bipedal machine, the front of it riddled with sensors and optics, both arms ending in huge, articulated hands holding large pistol-like weapons. The creature stood twice the height of the adult mare, and at least four times as wide. Even with its immense metal bulk it moved quite swiftly on almost spring-like metal legs. On its body rattled something like a bandolier, but lined with caribou skulls, bleached and polished with care.

The giant artificial being clanged to a halt in front of mother and child, aiming both guns down at them, absolutely dwarfing the two. “Identify danger, target will be neutralized.”

Despite the clear menace that radiated from the metal creature, neither mother nor daughter looked afraid. The mother looked on it with a kind of relieved happiness, while the daughter had the look of someone meeting a favorite celebrity. She fairly bounced in place, still holding the soil-covered skull.

The mother patted her child on the shoulder to try and restrain the enthusiasm, rising to her hooves to try and make up some of the difference in height. “No danger. I was just surprised. My daughter found a caribou skull and I was just not expecting it. Sorry to have bothered you.” She reached out and gingerly patted the huge robot's left trigger finger.

After scanning the area with a green grid of lasers the machine placed the pistols against the side of its legs, the clang followed by the hum of a magnetic lock engaging to keep them there. “Very good. Remember, report any caribou sightings. Survival is not an option. Au revoir, citoyennes.” The thing gave a smart across-the-chest salute before walking, with slow and clanging steps, back in the direction from which it had come.

Mother and daughter watched the massive machine of war walk away, with its mechanical and precise march. The little filly tugged on her mother's hand. “Mommy?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“Can I wear my caribou head like the metal protector? I could have a belt or a backpack. All my friends would be so jealous.”

The mother had to laugh at the suggestion, looking at the evil thing with a slight shudder. “It needs to be polished up. And it only has one antler. But if you really want, we can make a belt for you, something that will grow with you, if you want to keep it.”

“I do! I do! I wanna keep it forever! I'll be like the protector!” The filly squealed out her comments with delight, bouncing happily and waving the skull like it was just another toy.

“And I hope you keep thinking you want to be like the protector. Keep wanting to be strong...” The mother softly said, dewy eyes watching the machine walk its path of protection.

Past

The loss of her horn had been devastating. The branding of her Cutie Marks had been unimaginable. But knowing her daughter was in the clutches of the cervine monsters was the worst kind of Tartarus. Any indignity could be survived, ugly as all of it was. The caribou and brainwashed stallions were certainly no picnic. However, even the smallest thought of her daughter suffering the same fate turned her stomach and made the world into even more of a nightmare.

Allegedly, the caribou monsters claimed they did not touch foals. Certain rumors and certain bragging from the brainwashed or from drunk bucks made her believe it was some kind of propaganda line, a lie told in some lamely misguided attempt to stop mass suicides and spontaneous uprisings. Certainly, realizing it was almost certainly just a lie they told the conquered had put her on the edge of taking her chances at ripping the throat out of the next caribou she saw.

Her plan could not be accomplished in her present predicament. She was in stocks, with numerous other mares all making various fearful noises. Allegedly, she was being punished for some offense she had not memorized. She knew it was purely invented. The fools and monsters running the show had chosen her at random, to suffer for their amusement. There was no thought, no order to it. It was the darkest form of chaos. She was well aware of why the worship of chaos had been outlawed in the time before. No rules, no safety.

A caribou wielding a whip strode down the street, lashing out at mares without rhyme or reason, getting a cheer from the crowd that followed. It was a slow-moving orgy of violence, further injuries added on as the alleged sexual activity inflicted itself on each victim.

The caribou was coming, nearer and nearer. Imperious, unfeeling, dead-eyed and vacant. Another northman nobody. Her face reflected her disdain, and that caught the brute's eyes. “You dare stare at your master? Stupid cunt!” He lifted the whip high, his arm angled to whip not at her back or sides, but at her face. If she was going to be punished, better for something than nothing.

Before the blow could be struck a huge crash sounded out from nearby, the earth rumbling in the wake of the impact. Other such impacts sounded, from other parts of the city, creating confusion in the mob. All activity ceased, and frantic discussion began when the sounds of screams rang out from the distance.

The cause came to light with another crash, right in the midst of them all. It was a huge, gray robot, like something out of a movie or a video game. All optics and armor, with a pistol-like thing in one hand. A green grid of lasers scanned over the scene, causing the stallions and caribou to chatter loudly in curiosity.

The lead caribou, with the whip, approached the metal beast with the usual northman arrogant swagger. “You are to interrupt a necessary public punishment of these worthless bitches? What are you, and how can you be so bold as to attack the land of a living god?”

The metal hulk turned to regard the caribou with cold, impassive viewing ports, sizing up the male. “Enemy identified. Genetic identifiers confirmed. Executing primary directive.” With no hesitation or further comment the pistol unleashed a pulse of energy with a subdued sound, striking the caribou in the lower abdomen. The stricken area nearly vanished in a shower of blood, both legs detached and entrails spilling. Even so, he was still alive.

The metal being placed the pistol against its side, the weapon hanging on a magnetic field. It ignored the shouts and hurled stones from the mob, picking up the fallen caribou and taking hold of his neck. “Confirmation of execution required.” Casually, it tore the head from the body, dropping the twitching form and placing the head on the ground by it. “Further enemies confirmed. Genetic confirmation obtained. Electromagnetic resonance confirmation obtained. Confirmation of execution required.” The being took up both of the pistols it had on it's body, aiming low as possible as the caribou and stallions attempted to escape, each shot attempting to preserve the heads. “Qu'un sang impur abreuve nos sillons!”

The screaming parties made a game effort at fleeing but were held back by a new kind of metal being. They were waist-high things, with bodies like boxy spiders, skittering along on numerous metal legs. They scanned repeatedly, and used small energy bursts and sharp stabs of their appendages to shatter legs or tear at arms, climbing over the screaming fallen. They used small lasers to sear off the heads, cutting them off almost bloodlessly and carrying the severed things away.

The mares were mostly too stunned to do anything besides gape in shock and disbelief. The crowd of sneering, arrogant stallions and bucks had been swiftly reduced to headless, blasted-apart piles of gore. The small spider-like robots casually clattered to the line of stocks, their bloodstained legs smashing the locks and shattering the wood like it was nothing, wordlessly liberating all the mares.

The hornless unicorn fell from the shattered stocks and stayed on all fours for a time, staring in disbelief at the carnage, her face misted by the flying blood. She guessed she was not staring for the same reason as most others. The carnage was not troubling her; the killing was well-earned. She could not comprehend the sudden hard shift from hopeless and absolute captivity to freedom. The form it took would break upon her at some point, but it mattered less than the outcome.

The huge metal being, the slaughter concluded and heads arrayed in a loose pyramid, turned its attention to the fearful and disbelieving mares. It scanned them with its green laser grid again, securing the pistols to its sides once more. “In accordance with orders, and for the preservation of liberty, you have been saved from enemy control. Please follow the infiltration-slayer units to a central location to be given nutrition resources and water. Evacuation will follow.”

The small spider-like robots were surprisingly gentle, issuing chirping sounds and using their bloodstained legs to softly probe the mares to their hooves and in a particular direction. The unicorn, though, moved to the huge metal being, placing her hand on it. “Please... please, I have a child... is she alive?”

The great metal creature turned to look at the mare for a long while, the various sensors and optics seeming to flash and shift while they processed the question. “Not currently determined. But all recovered children, taken back in the first wave, have been brought to a common creche for care and nutrition. Genetic scans will determine familial bonds, with brain scans to determine truth of claims of relationship. Be assured, citoyenne, there was full recovery of captive young, and there will be a chance to recover them. Please proceed to the central location for hydration, provision and evacuation.”

The news of full recovery of the foals, with her daughter presumably among them, drove the mare to hug the bloody, solid robot. “Thank you. Thank you so much for this...”

Present

Out in the middle lands of Equestria, life had returned, in the old form and in a new. Close copses of trees were stitching themselves together into what would become a forest. Low shrubs were managing to spring up amongst the trees and the leaf litter was slowly starting to become a fungus-rich, healthy loam. Above, pegasi arranged clouds and occasionally kicked out small and scattered showers. Down below, earth ponies in yellow rain slickers and hard hats surveyed the scene, occasionally digging up and moving a small seedling or scattering some type of seed that they felt was necessary.

But also in that place, blinking lights grew up along poles of metal and plastic. Diodes flashed, parts clicked, and partially organic bits grew from the electronic vegetation. Plastic grass calmly intertwined with real grass, both types being mowed in the strange non-mouth mouths of low-lying, four-legged robots. Square bodies and boxy heads made them wholly alien, yet they were like any grazing animal. Tall, thin-legged creatures of articulated bodies and narrow, pointed heads gracefully strolled like deer, nibbling the bushes and plucking leaf and petal from the twirling, slowly flashing electric flowers and cybernetic greenery.

One earth mare, with a reddish-brown coloring, slowly stroked her fingers along the back of the electric deer closest to her. She stopped her inspection of the replanting to pet the elegant creature, and to stroke the back of the strange metal sheep. They were not afraid. They were tame and sedate, sound chips within letting off artificial bleats and bells, acting for all the world like creatures in a petting zoo.

She flinched, if only momentarily, as a bush rustled, but it was only the leaves parting as small, colorful creatures emerged from within. The silicon and scale beings fluttered filmy-looking wings of great size and delicacy before they gracefully lifted from the leaves. Small circuit patterns occasionally flashed through the large wings as electricity moved through their metal veins. The technological butterflies flapped with no real purpose, but straight paths all the same, lights bright at nodes on the wings, and on their antennae tips. They were only in the primary colors, but their procession was a colorful parade all the same, each beautiful in its own way.

Nature and technology intertwined in beauty, in perfect peace and harmony. The earth mare sighed as she admired the wonder. There needn't be conflict between the artificial and the natural. They had managed the land before, they had teased order from chaotic nature. It was even more beautifully orderly in the wake of the liberation. It was not taking over, it was symbiotic with nature. Others coming in to be in harmony. A welcome change.

Past

”The frozen north was our home, a superior place, a perfect place!” A caribou commander shouted his words over a chattering rabble of brainwashed ponies and caribou underlings, all celebrating the sight of a small stand of trees on fire. “Expanses of desolation, perfect in their purity and austerity! We have extracted all the trees we need, these worthless twigs represent the soft and inferior pony obsession with beauty and wonder. Let their old thoughts, their soft, female, cuntish thoughts burn with these useless sticks!”

“No! You northmen scum! You worthless, ice-minded sub-sapient beasts!” Stripped, branded, beaten, bloody, the reddish-brown earth mare was a true citizen through and through, still loyal to her occupation as tender and guard of the forest, a minder of natural beauty and resource. She would not be broken by such simple methods. “The environment requires this! And it isn't in the fire-seeded zone! You pig-ignorant shit-for-brains!”

The caribou responded with the unsubtle and cliched response of his kind, slapping the bloodied mare with a contemptuous backhand, following with a punch to the cheek. “Silence! You dare to speak to a male in such a way? You will be properly broken soon enough, so do not think this is any threat to us! Your ways are dead now, dead as these worthless things! They will all burn once we have extracted what we require from them.”

The mare could only look on in horror as the woods which had been in her charge burned on the orders of a thoughtless child of a living being. All her hard work literally going up in smoke, years of dedication and care eradicated with thoughtless speed for no reason other than arrogant egoism. She struggled to get to her hooves, despite being bound, her arms secured behind her back. Her efforts were in vain, as another swift strike knocked her off balance and she tumbled to her side. “No... no...”

The gleeful enjoyment of burning the forest was interrupted by a sudden, loud crash, along with a cry of, “Allez! Allez! Feu!” The flaming trees were hacked down like wheat under a well-sharpened scythe, with the flames smothered quickly in a pink-tinted and expanding foam. With the fire going out the light of the darkened scene fell precipitously, creating confusion and chattering in the gathered troop.

“Light! Light! Bring the torches!” The caribou commander screamed, scraping a dagger against a flint, striking up his own torch first. “Who dares? What insolent creature dared to undo my will, in line with the will of our god?!”

A huge ax-blade nearly the size of the caribou's torso suddenly swept out of the darkness, cleaving the screaming commander in half. The light of his fallen torch illuminated huge metal legs tromping up into the scene. The further torches, hastily lit and tremblingly thrust forward, lit up a great, mottled green titan. The metal surface was covered with netting, artificial leaves making it look like a walking bush on first viewing. One hand held the tremendous, bloodstained ax, the other empty, with a hose coming out of the back of its fist. It scanned the scene with a grid of red lasers, ignoring cries of alarm. “A Pionnier. This is an inappropriate treatment of vital woodland. Executing primary directive.”

The ax swung out and cut smoothly through several of the bucks and stallions, the others making an effort to flee. All of them, in their night-blind panic, ran directly into crushing metal fists or more swinging axes. All of the mechanical pionniers activated floodlights, illuminating the single, fallen mare. “Captive identified. Recovery complete.”

The mare sighed as a bloody ax cut her ropes, allowing her to push herself up onto her hooves. “Better cut and doused than burned to the ground. Thank you so much for the rescue. Where did you come from?”

“Dispatch from the central staging area, to administer justice, protect resources and rescue captives of the occupying regime. Phalanges mercenaires. The mismanagement of natural areas has led to tremendous damage. It must be arrested and recovery efforts begun. Secondary directive, recover and return captives to an evacuation point,” the first robot declared.

“Mysterious robots with axes are a little strange. But I'm a ranger. I see things like animated wood and multi-headed critters all the time,” the mare said. “Plus, you're pioneers. I can respect the likes of you. Lead on.”

Present

In Manehattan proper the mood was light and happy, as it had been before the invasion. Hired hansom cabs zipped along the now steel-plated streets, vendors cried their wares from carts and storefronts, the Diamond Dog district rang with forges and chipped gemstones, and all over hulking metal guardians strolled the streets while the spider-like smaller robots skittered along, weaving around the legs of pedestrians.

At the intersection of two fairly nondescript streets, a huge monument had been raised. A brass and steel depiction of one of the metal defenders, a long, lithe one with a long rifle, stood triumphant, with the corpses of caribou cast in metal at his feet.

The plaque, placed on all four faces of the dais, read, From here began the liberation of Manehattan, by the work of a metal defender, saving lives without selfish ends.”

Past

”This slave will learn the price of trying to get free!” The arrogant caribou bellowed his cry as he held a knife up to the throat of a captive pegasus, holding the shackled mare close to his chest. “Her wings were shaved but it was not enough. Perhaps she should be like so many others, and love them entirely!” The call was met with cheers form the gathered stallions and bucks, piled into a small intersection in Manehattan, located where two nondescript streets met.

The sky blue mare with a periwinkle mane struggled as much as she could in the oppressive grip, trying to avoid nicking herself on the semi-rusty cheap caribou iron knife. Without proper healthcare that was asking for trouble. “Let me go! You can't do this to me! I'm a Manehattan skybound copper! I have a job to do! I've gotta take out the trash like you!”

The caribou pushed the knife more insistently into the mare's neck, flatter than before to keep from directly cutting into her. Yet. “Insolent cunt! You have no job and you do not threaten your natural superiors! You will suffer another shaving of your wings before the cutting! You must learn your place!”

“I belong in the sky taking care of scum like you and your dickless wonders!” The mare shouted. She glared hatefully at the cheering stallions. “Traitors! You were happy enough to sing and dance with us before! I hope somepony guts you like a rogue manticore!”

The crowd roared with laughter, mocking her loudly and thrusting their crotches in her direction. The buck snorted and pulled the knife away from her throat, gripping one poorly-feathered wing and cruelly yanking it taut, preparing to scrape the regrowing feathers off of the flesh.

Before the knife could make contact a soft thump sounded from above and in short order a vague sphere of energy slammed into the ground, digging out a gouge in the pavement. Following in the wake came a huge, metal beast. The titan held aloft two pistols, washing the gathered collection with green laser grids. “Genetic confirmation obtained. Electromagnetic resonance confirmation obtained. Hostage in immediate danger of death detected. Emergency interdiction required.”

“What in Hel are you? How dare you interrupt us with threats of force! Leave here or this worthless bitch will pay! Get back!” The buck had the knife back at the mare's throat, pulling his considerable bulk far behind her, exploiting as much of her capacity as a living shield as he could manage.

The metal being lifted the pistols up and stepped back slowly. “Hostage situation escalated to imminent threat. Weapons insufficient to neutralize situation. All appropriate units approach, all others remain in position.”

“Ha! What a pathetic creature! You showed great martial force and yet you fold like a weak, inferior bitch when one of these cunts is threatened! How easy it will be to get around these...” His speech stopped short when he was forced to blink thanks to to a shockingly bright, focused light passing over one eye. “What was that? Is this a tri-?”

The question died with the questioner, the back of his head letting off a small jet of blood and gray matter, while his forehead showed a small spot of charring and a deep hole. His body loss all muscular rigidity and he fell with a heavy thud, blood pooling beneath his through-and-through ventilated skull.

The instant the caribou's hand dropped the knife the large robot brought its pistols down and began firing low, blowing off the legs and lower torsos of the screaming, scrambling stallions and bucks. “Situation neutralized. Executing primary directive. Confirmation of execution required.”

Almost unnoticed by the screaming, dying males was a motion from the top of one of the buildings. The large mass fell from the roof and landed with a crash, creating a small crater in the ground. It was a long, slender robotic being, the vaguely face-analogous region packed tightly with a multitude of sensors and optics, a long, black rifle held in both hands. “Anti-hostage action completed. Released hostage, please remain here. Further operations will proceed from here. Rations will be brought by logistic forces.”

The mare moved in close to the long robot, watching with some small sense of satisfaction as the cruel bucks and stallions met their end. “Now that's a hostage interdiction. I don't know where you came from, but you're some fine peace keepers.”

Present

“Let us never forget our captivity! All the pain and misery, the hate and abuse, it will always remind us of the horror of losing harmony and peace. It will stir empathy and drive us all to be better, to never give in to selfishness or single-minded abuse of others. No exploitation, no shrugging off consequences, no stealing the rights and freedoms of others! We must remember, or we will be thrown into Tartarus again!”

Princess Celestia basked in the hearty cheers of the crowd, her shorter horn showing her slow and real recovery from her own captivity. She smiled to the crowd, and the two giant robotic beings standing beside her, both hefting up titanic, broad shields in one hand and hefty pistols in the other. “But as well, we should remember those that helped to sweep the caribou away. True promoters of harmony and peace. These were and are friends to the end. They are those to whom we owe our new safety. We are fortunate to have them, and thank our good luck that they came to us.”

Past

“Here! Over here!” The brutish voice cut above the din of angry cries, all shouting to each other. The huge, powerful buck pointed down into the well-worn cleft of the earth, which led into the odd and unnatural abyss. The location reached something deep in the brainwashed stallions in the group, making them waver between obedience to their programming and natural reticence. “I tell you the cunt went down there! Go! What is the matter with you fools?”

“This place... it has not been visited by ponies or anyone since... ever. Before there were even ponies, this thing has always just kept everything away. It's not natural,” One of the stallions replied, staring into the cracked earth. “It's like nothing else on the entire planet. The geology makes no sense, not even for something like a meteorite or comet. Magic can't even account for it. No simple, inferior bich would dare have the nerve to enter it. She must have doubled back.”

“I tell you she could not have! I was watching all the possible escape routes, and you were there as well! If you foolish ponies cannot catch a single cunt then I think you will ALL need reassignment! Go! All of you! I will lead the way if you are too female to dare lead an assault!” The buck charged into the looming darkness, reluctantly followed by the stallions whose brainwashing was fighting their natural desire to avoid the unnatural place.

The crevasse cut deep into the earth, formerly sharp edges weathered by centuries of erosion. The angle of incline was not that steep but it was unusually made. The walls seemed unrelated to the pitted ground, like they had collapsed in on a wider divot, creating the narrow expanse. As well, the whole area showed lingering traces of melting and charring, not affected overly much by the passage of time, and not disturbed by any living being.

The low light of the surface grew dimmer and dimmer as the winding and jagged path slipped into the depths, forcing the collection of males to scrape their flint and light torches, illuminating the strange passage. The oddity of the location came through more clearly, as the greater light showed off the lack of things they would have expected. No fungus, no spiderwebs, no trace of anything remotely biological.

After a surprisingly long descent the path ended abruptly at what looked like a flat expanse of dull metal, with a split in it which led into a red-washed passage. The red light dully pulsated, on no real beat, illuminating a strange place, all composed of metal. The floor looked like thick mesh, showing a network of tubes and wires beneath, while the walls were entirely smooth, bent out at the middle, making the passage hexagon-shaped, and all sized seemingly for giants.

“What... what is this? How is it here in this cavern?” The Buck stared in great confusion as he stepped into the gap.

“This is... this thing looks like something out of a movie!” One of the stallions cried, the sound echoing down the halls. “This thing is ancient. It... it must have fallen out of space and dug itself into the ground. That's why the ground was melted and charred.”

“Out of space? What nonsense! Such things cannot be,” the buck snorted.

The party walked down the corridor, noting the strange markings all around, the whole interior looking largely unharmed. The colors blue, white and red were much in evidence, along with markings probably meant to be some language none could even begin to figure out.

The buck leading them was following the slight trace of cast-off dirt, spots of blood on the mesh floor and the disruption of what dust and detritus that was along the path. The path wound through the strange metal halls, past broken walls, cracked pipes and broken wires showing metal or fibers of glass. The trail plunged deep into the alien vessel, and closer to soft sounds they could hear in the distance.

The winding corridors finally ended at a huge doorway, whose sliding doors had been broken and were open, both askew. The new place into which it led was much darker than any other place, all the light coming from multiple screens that occasionally flickered with images from the corridors or long lines of the alien writing. In the center of the room was what looked like a huge orb of light suspended between two pillars of metal. The escaped slave, a cut-horned unicorn mare, was kneeling before the orb, while wires touched her head and entered the orb.

The buck could barely comprehend what he was seeing, his experiences providing no previous examples for comparison. He squinted at the light, just making out that within was something that looked like a very rough skull made of dark metal, what would be its neck and spine leading into the lower pillar, while its eyes were merely masses of variously-sized circles of glass.

“You! Thing! Give us our slave! You have no right to touch caribou property!” The buck drew a knife from his belt and strode toward the glowing orb.

Several strange noises reverberated in the air, possibly some form of unknown language, while the orb's color flashed to red. Finally, comprehensible words emerged. “Speech core updated with Common Equestrian. Hostile intent detected. Initiating interdiction procedures.” A small port opened in the upper pillar and a single flash of light emerged. There was an explosion of red mist from the caribou's chest, his face a mask of pain and shock as his entire upper torso was reduced to gore. He dropped like a rock, vaguely twitching as the shock set in and his blood poured out.

“Run! Everyone for themselves! This is crazy!” The stallions cut and ran, charging away from the chamber and teir dead leader.

“Activating all units. All units, begin start-up sequence. Prepare for counter-invasion and peacekeeping duties. Biological lifeform known as a pony has given notice of hostile enemy known as caribou. Phalanges mercenaires.” The fallen commander was washed with a number of laser grids, each one minutely scanning his body. “Genetic information stored. Unusual brain-state noted in fleeing figures. Electromagnetic resonance stored. Enemy units now identified. Further enemy units may be added as information arrives.”

The stallions tore through the corridors, noting the sounds of sirens and the scape of metal against metal. Huge, hammering thumps rang out as they grew more and more lost in the labyrinthine vessel. They could hear the call to action, as well as a low and ominous rumble, with occasional shakes. The ship was moving. It must have been trying to surface.

Still lost, and desperate, the stallions finally turned a corner and encountered a single, hulking mass of metal, with two pistols at its side. The robot washed them with a green laser grid, taking up its two pistols immediately after. “Electromagnetic resonance confirmation obtained. Confirmation of execution required.” The stallions could only scream in terror as the impassive being aimed low and turned the ship's thrashing corridor into a bloodbath.

Present

In the reclaimed city of Canterlot, a huge festival was in the process of being set up. Freed ponies and others, along with the robotic protectors, got things ready. The huge robots were setting up many of their own alien items, looking very like a merging of the biological and the mechanical. All the ponies not engaged in activity were fascinated by them, the spinning plastic flowers and glittering trees with their crystalline leaves marked with circuit patterns. Penned in with the natural animals were the odd mechanical animals, giving out little sound-chip-created noises. Tiny, scuttling wheeled mice-like things, blocky electric sheep, and even one thin-legged giraffe-thing with a telescoping neck.

Two mares watched their little foals playing with the animals, petting the sheep, both biological and mechanical, the happy earth ponies being quite amused by the artificial bleats from the mechanical sheep. The two mares were pegasi, both with the scraggly start of regrown feathers. The one on the right, with a cornflower blue coat and pinkish mane, turned to the other and smiled. “I can hardly believe we're able to have peace and happiness again.”

The other, who was more uniformly puce all over, nodded in agreement. “It's wonderful. From utter hopelessness to more than abundant potential for the world we knew before.”

“Better than before, I think,” the first mare said. “These new protectors and their new things are a wonderful addition. It's like the old days but better somehow.”

“It took a little getting used to but now, I can't imagine it any differently,” the second confessed.

“Change is hard, even good change. And this was a very good change,” the first sighed. After a short bit of silence she remarked, “Can you believe the monument is finished? I never would have imagined they could get it done so quickly.”

“I know! But, these new protectors are very efficient, even if they're not built for that kind of work. But their assistance must have been very effective for all the ponies involved. Once we set up this festival we can all enjoy the sight of the brand new monument, and savor what it represents.”

Past

The outlying areas of Equestria, and all other locations of caribou aggression, had been swept clean in a tide of bloody vengeance delivered by the robotic soldiers. The last target was the heart of the failed and fleeing caribou regime, Canterlot. What few surviving caribou soldiers and brainwashed stallion followers who did not surrender remained all crowded into Canterlot ahead of the robots, most having left the back lines of those sent out to stop them, showing off the cowardice of the allegedly superior beings.

The robotic horde ringed in the mountain of Canterlot, joined by the rebellions of the many lands. The angry collection of rebels fought hard alongside the robotic tide, venting their spleen against the presumptive masters. Those who could not flee fast enough faced the consequences of their fiat, the fate they presumed could never befall them.

The robots carried a giant metal box with them, which floated on its own, needing only several of them holding bars to pull it along. The whole surface was covered in markings, from the strange alien alphabet to signs and symbols broadly indicating warnings, along with more bands of blue, white and red. They had given no indication what it was when it was removed from the damaged ship that had laboriously been brought up from the depths of the earth. It was too damaged to do more than push itself free of the ground, forcing the robots to remove what was still viable from within, including the hovering box, whose size dwarfed even dragons.

In Canterlot itself the panicked caribou used all of their best primitive techniques to stave off the coming tide of war. They brought down statues and used them as blockades, they created simple pit traps and snares, they even laid out captive mares in dangerous situations to be used as bargaining chips. The dread king looked on with disdain, holding his creative and mature masterpiece the Crystal Cock and cursing the corruption of weak femininity that had clearly infected his formerly masculine and superior soldiers. To his mind, seeing hundreds slaughtered should have not moved them at all.

“If they fear the force of these strange soldiers, these tricksters, mere lowly Loki-spawn, then I will show them force. I will give them power, and show them why they should fear me alone. No tricks with light and force will stand against pure strength. Magic, tamed and whipped into obedience, like a female, will give me the power to destroy these foolish things, these aides of the lowly, the cunt-bought. They will be crushed, like the insects they are...” Power surged over his form as he focused his fiat powers into the immature totem, and he smiled a humorless, joyless smile while he considered his coming domination.

Down in the city proper, the northmen savages found their unsophisticated strategies entirely worthless, as the flesh-and-blood rebels dropped back to let the indomitable robots carry the invasion. Those few units that could fly came over the top of the walls and barricades, while the rest punched or blasted their way past any obstacles. The daring and most foolhardy of the caribou performed elaborate ritual blade displays of intimidation, though they never finished, being hacked or shot in the middle of their performance.

The great floating container levitated up at the command of a few of its bearers, being directed toward the palace. “Electromagnetic scans confirm surge in ambient energy, combined with planet-specific energy type identified as thaumatic force. Large-scale gathering necessitates abundance of caution.”

One of the upper balconies of the palace practically exploded in a surge of black energy, crackling with forks of red and purple. In the midst of the surge, the accursed Stag King. Disdain marked his cruel and hideous visage, vaguely obscured behind his ever-present magical shield.

The metal defenders opened fire with all they had, aimed perfectly and directly at the hexagonal scales of the shield. Nothing harmed the field of willful fiat, pure contrivance made real. Laughter, mirthless and cold, emerged from the hateful king, who clutched his creation tighter. “Insolent metal-clad creatures! I know not your magic or your strange weapons, but I know your inferiority! You support these worthless cunts! You fight a battle you cannot win for the natural inferiors! You have dared aimed your arms against those headed by me, a living and invincible god! My rule is absolute and my power impossible to oppose! I have conquered this filthy land of worthless bitches! My kind are invincible and eternally superior to any other creature, even whatever creature lurks behind those cowardly shells of metal!”

One of the metal defenders, the type that carried a long gun, fired a shot at the king's chest, the powerful laser hitting the shield and making no impact save for a small waver. “Field does not respond to standard weaponry. Enemy intends to remain. The claim is invalid and harmful to local inhabitants.” It fired again and again, precisely striking the same place to no avail. “Mais si les corbeaux, les vautours un de ces matins disparaissent le soleil brillera toujours!” One final shot struck. “Runaway energy influx must be arrested for security of all. Sans-culotte activation required.”

A kind of sound moved between the collection of robots, which culminated in several typing commands into screens found on different parts of the huge container. As they did that, the horrid caribou bellowed, his bones cracking and muscles creaking, snapping and reforming in grotesque parodies of their former selves. He grew with shocking rapidity, the crystal mockery absorbed into his body, seeming to push the growth even more.

The box hissed thunderously and the top split wide, segmented metal plates sliding to either side to reveal the curled shape of a titanic robot. Like some of the others it was built bulky, with thick limbs and a blocky head-analogue. The numerous sensors and optics slowly lit up, and its rose to show off its gunmetal gray body, which had been molded to give the impression of feet in sabots, and the back of its head-area looked like the trailing of a Phrygian cap. All over were alien letters and more colorful insignia of its long-ago makers

“No matter the size of this cowardly creature, it will die!” The king brought a huge hoof down onto a metal defender, crushing it with a loud pop and a sharp discharge of energy. He repeated the action and snarled. “I don't know what creature you have under that metal or how you built it so fast but you will not win! I am king! Tyrant lord! I! Am! God!”

The gargantua strode forth, scanning the king repeatedly as it went. When it spoke the voice rumbled out, reverberating through the area. “Ni Dieu, ni César, ni tribun. No gods or tyrants will be allowed to live.”

“You cannot harm me! These pathetic creatures die the same as any weak and feeble bitch!” He crushed another defender, ignoring the stream of energy blasts pounding his shield. “You are no different, and will be destroyed.”

“Shield scan complete. Course of action transmitted. Influence of thaumatic energy unlikely to halt response. Raising internal EM barrier,” the titan intoned. Its optic ports went dark, the figure slumped, and became unresponsive. All the other robots suffered a similar effect, becoming little more than metal statues scattered around Canterlot.

“Surrendering already? Without fighting? You must be lowly females beneath the armor!” The arrogant king savagely crushed more of the unmoving robots while approaching the giant one. He hammered his fists into the dense, unmoving form, the repeated hits through his unbreakable shield denting and deforming the exterior.

In the middle of the one-sided fight, the chest of every robotic being opened up, to reveal a glowing orb of energy. Each one surged up in synch with a terrific whine, all popping off at once. The air became thick with the smell of ozone and the buzz of electricity, the biological rebels just past the edge of the area of influence. The huge pulse collectively washed over the attacking caribou giant, throwing him back and making his shield warp and distort, huge cracks and gaps moving through it, as though the thing was decaying.

“What? What is this? How is this possible?!” The huge caribou staggered back, calling on the Crystal Cock within him to try and repair the flagging shield.

The still and silent robots moved once more shortly after the massive energy pulse, taking a short space in internal consideration before firing on the staggering king once more. The beams and bursts of energy slipped through the gaps or shattered the warped shield, ripping into his flesh and drawing forth massive bellows. Though numerous, the blasts did little total damage, only leaving him covered in seared, bleeding spots.

It took the great robot more time to recover, standing steadfast before the assaulted caribou until the light returned to its artificial eyes. “Internal check complete. No EM damage to systems. Scans indicate pulse has performed needed task. Tyrant confirmed. Executing primary directive.”

Though it appeared that it had weapons, both in the original container and along its body, the titan, Sans-culotte, rushed forward and smashed its metal fist through the damaged shield, shattering it like brittle glass and forcing its unforgiving hand into the startled caribou. The earth-shattering gut-punch brought a look of nauseous disbelief to his face, the pain the first he had been forced to feel in a long time of executing fiat and living without consequence. A second strike pushed him back more, followed by ever more, pummeling him with mechanical precision and no trace of mercy.

On one strike the metal hand opened, slightly pointed fingertips digging into the hammered abdomen and passing straight in. Ignoring the blood and gore he performed some internal motion that sent a muted, but still audible, wet snap through the air, a sharp and agonized scream following, along with the king losing all strength to his legs. He was held up by the hand in his abdomen, and then by the other hand clamping down, vise-tight, on his neck.

Feebly, the once-invincible caribou king swatted and shoved at the immovable metal being, barely able to let out whispering grunts and coughs of pain. His tongue hung out of his mouth and his eyes practically bulged as he fought off the encroaching darkness. The last thing he heard before the end consumed him was his opponent neutrally intoning, “Confirmation of execution required.”

Present

The festival in Canterlot dwarfed the smaller celebrations held in other regions to mark the liberation of the world from the caribou. It was populated by all classes, including the heads of state, old or newly placed, from all the affected nations. While the celebration was spread across the whole face of the city, in every terrace, the main attraction was the gargantuan, sheet-covered thing standing on the palace grounds.

Princess Celestia stood at a dais at the base, while her sister stood at the top, Princess Luna nodding to her sister to indicate she should go on.

“Citizens! Guests! All of you who came here to celebrate the true end of this terrible time, welcome! As I said to you before, we must never forget the evil which was visited on us, so it may never be repeated. As well, we must never forget or neglect these wonderful new arrivals. These friends, here for ages but unknown, need a suitable monument, a means of honor that shows respect for their ways and gives them the glorious praise for victory over the filth that had polluted our lands. Their efforts were great, and gave results. For this, we honor them. Sister! Show them!”

Luna lit her horn and focused all the magic she could into the sheet, finally forcing enough through the shorter length to send a flashing surge along the surface of the sheet. “Behold! The titan savior, Sans-culotte! All honor to the slayer of the tyrant-god!”

When the light of the flash cleared the monument to the savior appeared, bringing cheers, applause and even weeping from those saved from the excesses of the caribou. It was Sans-culotte itself, standing in much the same posture as it had the day it defeated the caribou king. The lights were out in its optics, and it gave no indication of still being activated. The damage inflicted on it had been repaired as much as it was possible to do so, the whole surface sealed and polished to shining perfection. Every letter of alien script had been carefully repainted, and every little symbol reapplied, making it look as new as possible. The titan stood as its own monument, but it did not stand alone.

Over the course of long, busy weeks the robots and ponies had carried away the huge corpse of the caribou king, stripping and immolating the flesh, cracking the bones and packing them into cement-filled containers buried in undisclosed locations. They had destroyed everything of the accursed monster, except for the proof of execution.

Sans-culotte had forcibly cracked the creature's pelvis in his quest to fully detach the tendons and muscles at the base of his spine. That had been a crude beginning for the much more refined work that had taken place in the intervening weeks. Teams of ponies and robots alike had carefully removed the skin, pulled off the ribs and wired every last bit of the vertebral column together. With fire, disinfectant and a clear lacquer each one had been meticulously preserved, from the first cervical to the final one on the tip of his tail.

As well, the head had been prepared in just the same way. Stripped, scrubbed, sealed, preserving every last inch of the skull, including the antlers. The hateful set of the jaw and the shape of the optical orbits made the skull look to be perpetually scowling at the one who had defeated its possessor.

The molded sabots of Sans-culotte stood on a newly erected pedestal, a plaque made of polished electrum set into it. It was etched with letters filled in with carefully shaped and set diamonds, to enhance the words. The surface was largely covered with the alien language, but below it provided a translation in Equestrian.

Sans-culotte, Champion of Harmony, Bane of the Caribou, Friend to all the Innocent. For it and all its kind this monument stands. Eternal, unwavering thanks and honor to those who slew the caribou and the one who cast down the horror of the Tyrant-God.

Le Soleil et la Lune brillent pour toujours!

Author's Note

For anyone interested about the title go here. It informs the point.

Also, stylistic italics are not allowed. So if you get confused, blame site rules. I had flashbacks in italics, but I moved to a clunkier system because it's either do it or scrap the whole thing.