My Little Warhammer: Friendship is Heresy

Chapters

Prologue
Surprise
Naval Tradition
The Hangover
First Blood
Here They Be
Invisible Pink Unicorn
Rainbow Crash
In the Event of a Crash, the Toilet is the Safest Place on an Airplane

Prologue

Inquisitor Grimmus Darkium stalked the corridors of the Imperial Battlebarge Divine Right of Might, moving towards the bridge with an air of death about him. The crew who he passed averted their gaze, looking at the floor; best to avoid the attention of the Inquisition, no matter how brief. Grimmus felt a little twisted pride at the fear he evoked, but pushed it aside: there is no place for pride in the Emperor's service, he thought.

The wall fixtures were becoming increasingly ornate in this part of the ship. Great eagles screamed enskulled cherubim onto a field of grotesque, brutish people; Grimmus recognised them as Orks, or an artist's interpretation of Orks. As he walked he could see the alien vermin burnt by fire breathed from the Cherubim, speared by the weapons they carried. All were running in terror but for a lone, giant figure, screaming into the heavens. The final portion of the engraving showed one of the great eagles swooping down and attacking the Ork with it's talons.

The symbolism was not lost on Grimmus. The Divine Might of Right was built for the Third Armageddon war. It served as a battleship and troop transport; during the campaign on Gaudius V Imperial ground assets had been unable to break into the Orkish fortifications around Gargantua hive; the Divine Might of Right had entered the planet's atmosphere to unleash a full broadside against the city at the same time as the final push. A risky but decisive gambit.

There were two guards by the door, in full Naval dress uniform. They bowed to Grimmus, then pushed open the great double door. Grimmus walked onto the command chamber: a wide-open area, dominated by the grand podium upon which stood admiral Ray Kil-ban-Ocean, along with his personal bodyguard, a scribe and a pair of tech-priests. The guard standing on the inside of the doors shouted:
"Lord Darkium on the Bridge!"

None of the command crew reacted, save for the admiral himself. He turned and looked down.

"Lord Inquisitor! Please, join me up here! I am sending the lift down."

The admiral gestured to one of the tech-priests; moments later the lift on the side of the great podium began its slow crawl to the ground. On the way up Grimmus glanced up to the golden box containing the Navigator's room, directly above them; then around at the command chamber again. Every man was at his position. The techpriests and servitors were engrossed in their work and so payed him no attention, but the naval personnel had (he fancied) stiffer backs as his gaze passed over them.

Admiral Kil-ban-Ocean was a fat, flatulent and jolly man; the exact opposite of the stereotypical cold, trim, self-controlled captain. But Grimmus knew not to underestimate him: one does not rise to the rank of admiral through stupidity. Kil-ban-Ocean stood and stretched his back as the lift ground to a halt with a slightly-disturbing screech, then bowed.

"Good day, m'lord Inquisitor."

Grimmus responded with a curt nod and waited as the admiral sat down on his cushioned seat and breathed out heavily.

"So, Lord Darkium, to what do we owe the honour of your presence on my bridge? I do hope everything is to your satisfaction?"

"I am here for a report on our progress. How soon will we arrive at our destination?"

The admiral farted, then coughed a moment later in an attempt to cover it up. The midshipman standing straighter than is generally possible to his side (a boy of maybe fourteen) waved the thurible he was holding, distributing an over-strong whiff of perfume over the area and covering the stench.

"As I am sure you know, the currents of the warp are unpredictable at the best of times. We have been making reasonable progress and, assuming that we continue at this rate, should reach our destination in ... oh ... eleven days."

"And what of the other ships?"

The admiral shrugged in a nearly casual way. Grimmus fixed his steeliest contemptuous gaze on the man, the one that made most men break down before flaying knife ever met flesh. Kil-ban-Ocean met the look with no sign of discomfort, even smiling slightly. The sounds of clicking from consoles around the room lowered, and Grimmus was aware of eyes looking at him. He felt a fury beginning to boil within him for this slight.

"With luck, they should reach the co-ordinates two or three days after us. In all likelihood, I should think they will arrive a full five days after we do."

"Hm."

There was silence for a moment, then:

"If I may be so bold, my lord Inquisitor? If you know this world to be such a threat as to require the attention of five whole regiments of the Imperial Guard, might it not be prudent to rendezvous with the other ships before proceeding to orbit."

Grimmus showed a slight snear, communicating only a portion of his contempt for the admiral. Still holding his gaze, frustrated by the continued lack of effect, he said (more gruffly than usual):

"It would not be at all prudent to do so, admiral. These alien vermin were able to subvert the crew of the Loyal Speculator from the lowliest galley-slave to the captain. Even the Navigator was corrupted by the xeno heresy. They had time to send a warning. My interrogation of the captain implied as much, but he died of a slow-acting poison before I could gain confirmation. I will not allow any cowardice on your part to jeopardise the element of surprise."

Grimmus had expected the word 'cowardice' to shake the admiral, but the only reaction was a small increase in the fat man's smile. The entire chamber was silent, save for the quiet shuffling of the servitors and hydrolic toil of the tech-priests. A faint, high-pitched squeal of a fart emanated from his bowels; but this time his thurifer stayed deathly still, legs trembling.

"It was not cowardice that spoke, Lord Inquisitor, but concern for my crew and this crusade. It is, of course, your decision; but I do not think it wise to attack piecemeal."

"Fine words, Ray Kil-ban-Ocean. Captain Raleigh was a loyal servant of the Imperium for over a century before he gained his Marque. He had done great things. They subverted even him! These creatures are insidious, dangerous things, and I will not tolerate their existence for one moment longer than I must. Your recommendation - and your insolence - have both been noted. My orders remain. We will wipe these ... Equestrians from the face of the universe."

Surprise

Another hot sunny day, out past Fluttershy's, on the edge of the Everfree forest. Rainbow Dash had been there for half the day, at Cheerilee's request; What was that filly talking about? This teaching thing's easy-

"Okay - okay, kid, that's great! No! Don't look at me, just keep on- look out!"

Rainbow Dash rushed ahead and grabbed Scootaloo by the back leg; the filly jerked suddenly, saw the tree branch she had nearly just flown into and lost control, going limp. Slowly lowering to the ground, Rainbow Dash spoke again.

"You've gotta look where your going, pipsqueak! Could've done yourself some damage-"

"Uh- I'm sorry, Rainbow Dash, I'll do better next time-"

"Aahahahaa!"

Scootaloo dropped the last few inches, barely managed to regain her balance when she hit the floor; then Rainbow Dash patted her on the head, steadying her.

"Aw, kid, you crack me up! You did fine, at least you got off the ground this time."

Scootaloo (nearly on the verge of tears) looked up, saw Rainbow Dash smiling, smiled back. She laughed nervously.

"Y-yeah, that was pretty good, I mean, thanks for-"

"Aw, don't mention it kid." - she glanced up at the sky - "Just, uh..."

She flew up into the air, trying to remember something. Scootaloo watched carefully, seeing her mentor's face drop.

"Aw, horseapples! I-" - she looked back at Scootaloo - "I've gotta go, kid. Keep practising those jumps. And don't forget our agreement, okay?"

"No ma'am!"

And she was away, flying across Ponyville, rushing to the Sugarcube Corner. Watching her go with a grin so wide it threatened to split her face open, Scootaloo sat down and glanced at her flank (nothing...). So awesome, she thought, then looked around for her scooter and made her way back to town.

"...but Apple Bloom, I'm booored-"

"Ah know, Sweetie Belle, but it's hardly fair goin' off'n havin adventures'n maybe gettin' our cutie marks without Scootaloo around, now is it?"

Sweetie Belle snorted and rolled onto her side. Apple Bloom looked up from her drawing (of an apple tree).

"But it's such a nice day, and anyway Scootaloo's out having fun with Rainbow Dash, and she wouldn't mind us having fun and I'm just SO. BORED!"

"Well, ah'm having fun drawin' this tree-"

"But that's-"

"Oh hey in there!" called Applejack, standing (from the sound of her voice) at the bottom of the ramp, outside the Cutie Mark Crusader clubhouse; "Did ah just hear rightly? Are ya bored up there?"

Apple Bloom recognised the tone in her sister's voice, panicked, reached across to stop her friend responding, half-whispered anxiously:

"Oh, no, Sweetie Belle, don't" - but she was already at the door.

"Oh yes, really bored Applejack!"

Apple Bloom rested her head in her hooves, thinking Aw shoot, ah was having such a nice, relaxin' day an' all;

"Well then," called Applejack triumphantly; "how'd ya'll like to make yerselves useful'n help out down here? There's lots'a baskets'a apples need haulin' back to the storehouse!"

"Heeeeey, Rarity! How's it goin, huh? Huh?"

The pink Pony pranced around the boutique, peering into every nook and cranny, searching in her uniquely irritating way, filling the air with high-pitched noise.

"Huh? Hey, hey, Rarity, where is it? Hey, what'd you get-"

"Swee- I mean, Pinkie Pie, uhem." Rarity controlled her breathing, counting to ten in her head, looking up from her sewing; "Could you please-"

"Yeeeeeees?" Pinkie was suddenly right in front of Rarity, eyes almost touching; recoiling instinctively Rarity thought: how on Equestria does she do that..?

"Ah- Pinkie Pie, I am in the middle of a very important order, so could you be ever so kind and leave me to it, mmm?"

Pinkie stared, unblinking, for several seconds; then raised an eyebrow and pulled back.

"You're coming to the party, though, right Rarity? Me and Spike have been planning this for, like, a month!"

Rarity raised her head, cleared her throat.

"Spike and I."

"Whaa? You and Spike- two parties?"

Rarity hurriedly shook her head: "No, no-"

"Rarity, that's a great idea! Oh, we'll have so much fun - is that why I had such trouble finding balloons!? Oh, how did Spike keep this a secret, I mean, he's such a little dragon I can hardly believe-"

As Pinkie Pie was nattering away (gaze darting around the room), Rarity massaged her forehead with her front hoof, trotted over to her friend's side and lowered her head.

"Pinkie!" - she began pushing the pink one towards the door - "I have not planned another party,"

"But why-"

"I am very busy, and I have sent Sweetie Belle over to Applejack's so that I have the time to finish here in time for your party."

Nearly at the door, Pinkie stood aside; Rarity collapsed on her front, scrambled to get up with a semblance of dignity.

"Hrrrg, Pinkie-"

"So you've not planned another party!?"

"No. I have not planned another party. I am, as I said, very busy right now; but I shall be ready on time, in one hour."

Her horn glowed, the door swung open.

"Now please, leave me to it!"

Pinkie blinked a few times. Her little mind is whirring away, thought Rarity ...oh, that's too cruel- Pinkie threw her forelegs up in the air:

"Well, why didn't you say so! I'll see you later, 'kay?"

And with that, she bounced away.

"Come on, Angel, or we'll be late for the party ..."

Fluttershy hovered nervously off the ground, looking around for the rabbit; oh, where has he run off to?

"Angel? Angel! Please, we need to get going noow."

A rustling of leaves, and Angel emerged from the undergrowth. Fluttershy sighed with relief, then saw that he was dragging a gift-wrapped box behind him. She dropped to the ground, checked her saddlebags: empty!

"Oh, Angel, thank you, I'd quite forgotten! Oh, that would have been so embarrassing, turning up without a present!"

She carefully picked up the box in her mouth, placed it in the saddlebag and pecked a kiss on Angel's forehead; the rabbit looked embarrassed, started thumping his foot on the ground impatiently, crossed his forelegs.

"Oh! Yes. We should go now."

A sound from around the corner - a low-pitched growl - startled them both; Angel pressed his ears to his head, Fluttershy lowered herself to the ground. It was getting closer.

Scootaloo was buzzing along, going faster and faster; tight corner coming up, gotta- world moving past in a blur, she grabbed a tree branch in her mouth, swung around, nearly pitched off balance, regained it and what's that-

Fluttershy went flying through the air, landed on her back. She shook her head and opened her eyes just in time to see Scootaloo land on her stomach, knocking the wind right out of her. There they stayed for a long moment, until Angel dragged Scootaloo off.

"Ugh, sorry about that, Fluttershy; I didn't see you there."

"Th-tha-" Fluttershy sputtered, catching her breath and getting up slowly, testing her limbs for damage; then she looked right up at the young filly: "Sch- Scootaloo, you should look where your going on that thing. Please."

"Y-yeah, I know - I mean, sorry-"

"Are you okay, though?"

Scootaloo flexed her legs and wings.

"Yeah, I'm fine! Uh-" - she looked at the crushed box on the floor - "...but that's not."

"What..? Oh no! Twilight's present!"

Fluttershy ripped apart the paper, hoping that the damage was somehow not as bad as it looked; but the purple rose was thoroughly crushed.

"Oh, no..."

"Fluttershy!?" - it was Applejack calling from down the road, heading the same way, pulling a covered cart - "Scootaloo? What the hay - are you okay!? What happened?"

"It's my fault," cried Scootaloo plaintively; "I wasn't looking where I was going a-and, ah-"

"We're both okay, Applejack, but..."

Applejack cantered over to the scene of the crash and looked over Fluttershy's shoulder:

"Oh. That's yer present to Twilight, sugar?"

"Y-yes, I bred her a new kind of rose, you see the purple flower? But it - well."

"A rose? What a nice thought. But surely that ain't the only flower?"

Fluttershy looked up at Applejack, sniffing back tears and smiling weakly:

"Oh, you're right of course! But - I'll never make it back home and then to Sugarcube Corner in time for the start of the party!"

Applejack raised an eyebrow and smiled triumphantly, then slowly turned to face Scootaloo, who was busy testing the wheels on her scooter.

"Hey, Scootaloo, that thing okay?"

"Well, it seems okay-"

"You were goin' pretty fast on that thing? Reckon' yeh could make it to Fluttershy's'n then on to Sugarcube Corner in about thirty minutes?"

"Oh yeah, easily! I can do it in ten!" Scootaloo righted the scooter and got on it, straightened her helmet and felt Applejack's hoof on her back.

"Now you just hold on a second, filly. Fluttershy: where exactly is this rosebush?"

"Oh, um, it's at the back of my garden, right next to the chicken run."

"Right. So, kid, y'just make sure y'pick the best rose, alright?"

Scootaloo flexed her wings, Applejack removed her hoof.

"Okay! I'll see you in a second!" - and she zoomed away. Applejack called after her:

"Make sure ya look where yer goin' this time!" - then she turned towards Fluttershy. Together, they started walking towards town.

Sitting out on the balcony under the post-meridian sun, Twilight was reading through Old Magics of the World quite thoroughly. As the name suggests, it was quite an old book (a copy of a copy of a copy of the original); she was sure that she had glimpsed a book with a similar title on one of her occasional visits to princess Celestia's private library. How an edition had come to be in Ponyville was a bit of a mystery in itself.

The chapter she was currently reading related to communicating over large distances: a magic the the princess had hinted at a few times during private tutorials, and that which let Spike act as a convenient post-box. That's a thought - maybe I should try -

"Spike!" - she looked up from her book, waited for a little while.

"Spike?" - she called again, stood up, stretched her legs. Twilight walked inside. Everything looked normal; no books out of place, all the beds made. But there was a deathly silence in the library. Twilight felt an odd chill go through her as she walked down the ramp, to the lower level; to the door.

Now where could he have gone..? Twilight looked around, puzzling for a moment, and then: Of course! He'll be off bothering Rarity.

Delicious cupcakes! Spike thought, smelling the delicious odour emanating from the kitchen; she may be a bit crazy, but Pinkie sure can cook those things. He eyed the cakes set out on the table, tried to distract himself by looking at the decorations. Lots of balloons and streamers (this is Pinkie Pie, after all); but also wall hangings. Dark purple (bordering-on-black) silk with shimmering white diamonds inlaid in the forms of constellations; Rarity's really outdone herself this time.

He caught sight of himself in one of the mirrors distributed around the room, starting flexing his arms.

"Ooo, Spike," he said in a high-pitched parody of Rarity's voice; "Ooo, you're so wonderful Spike, would you like to come with me to th-"

The door slammed open; "Heya Spike!" shouted Pinkie Pie: "Who ya talking to?"

"Uh, er-" He spun around, clasped his hands behind his back, tried not to blush; "Uh, that is- uh, no-one."

"Oh."

Pinkie looked around, didn't see anything. She chewed on her lower lip, gazed up a the ceiling. Spike took a hesitant step towards her; she looked at him, leapt closer, conspiratorially stage-whispered:

"So Spi-ike - did ya deliver that message for me?"

"Oh yeah, it's a great idea inviting-"

"Ooo!"

"...what..?"

Pinkie licked one of her front hoofs, put it up in the air:

"Rainbow Dash is here!"

And with that, she bounced away. Spike looked at the delicious cake on the main table, felt his stomach rumble - there's so much, I'm sure they wouldn't miss just a little bit-

"Spiike!" called in Pinkie Pie, head poking through the door; "Ain't ya gonna come outside and say 'hi'?"

"...yeah, okay. I'm coming."

Reluctantly, Spike walked to the door and took one last, hungry look at the assorted treats as it swung shut behind him. He turned to face Rainbow Dash, was about to speak, but felt a familiar convulsion run though his body. She raised a concerned eyebrow.

"Uh... Spike, are you alright?"

"Hey, yeah, Spike, you look kinda funny-"

"Mm-m-b-" - and then he belched loudly, shooting out a jet of green smoke which swirled around and concentrated to a point; then a scroll bearing a horseshoe seal popped into existence. Spike grabbed it before it hit the ground.

"It's a letter from the princess," mumbled Spike, unspooling the paper.

"What does it say?"

"Dear Spike,
A surprise party for Twilight Sparkle sounds like an excellent idea. I have deposited a certain rare book in the Ponyville library to keep her distracted- huh. So that's where that book came from!"

"Wow!" shouted Pinkie; "That's a pretty weird letter-"

"He's not finished, Pinkie. What does the rest say, Spike?"

"Uhh... to keep her distracted, though I am sure she will have read it from cover to cover by now.
As per your invitation, I have decided that I shall attend in person. I shall also be bringing my sister, Luna, with me. We will be travelling alone, and do not want any fuss whatsoever. See you soon."

"...an' ah was runnin' low on time, so ah got Apple Bloom'n Sweetie Belle to drag th'apples back to the storehouse!" - Applejack and Fluttershy were walking around the edge of the centre of Ponyville, nearly at Sugarcube corner; "Haha, the look on that little filly's face when ah told her-"

"Um. Do you mean the look on Apple Bloom's face, or..?"

"Nah, she's used ta helpin' out. I meant the look on Sweetie Belle's face when ah asked her to help out - ah could see that she didn't want to, but she's just too dern polite ta turn me down!"

"Oh, Applejack, isn't that a little bit, um. Mean?"

Applejack stopped and looked askance at Fluttershy.

"They were just wasting time otherwise, and besides it'll do her good fer Sweetie Belle t'do an honest day's work instead'a runnin' around playin' cowponies'n buffaloes fer a change! Ah swear, ah think Rarity spoils that filly something rotten."

Fluttershy was almost lost for words: "I-if you don't mind me saying so, Applejack, I think you're being a little bit uncharita-"

"Hey, is that... Twilight?"

"What..?" - Fluttershy turned on the spot, saw the purple unicorn heading towards them - "Oh, no, what - what should we do!?"

"Well, ah can't talk to her, or she'll wonder what's in the cart!" - Applejack started to hurry off as fast as she could, hid behind a house; "You go distract her, ah'll go round the long way."

"What!? No. I-" - Angel tapped her rear left leg, pointed to Twilight, who had just noticed them. Fluttershy looked in the right direction just in time to see Twilight speed up from a trot to a canter.

"Hey, Fluttershy!"

"U-oh, uh, hi Twilight."

"I don't suppose you've seen Spike around anywhere?"

"Um. Ah, I - I mean: no."

Twilight eyed her friend warily; "Uh... are you okay, Fluttershy?"

"N-no - yes! I mean, uh, nothing's wrong." - She backed away, head lowered; then forced a smile onto her face.

"Oookay... well, I'm on my way to Rarity's. See you around-"

"Ooo! Twilight!" - it was Pinkie Pie, bouncing towards them - "Am I glad to see you! You've gotta come quick - it's Spike, he-"

"What!?" - Panic rising in her voice, eyes widened, Twilight took a step towards Pinkie Pie - "Is there something wrong with Spike!?"

"Yeah, he's, err ... really sick! Come on, we gotta get to the Sugar-" - Twilight broke into a gallop, heading towards the Sugarcube Corner; surprised, Pinkie had to scrabble to catch up. Angel followed a moment later and, as soon as she noticed this, Fluttershy glided along after him.

Twilight barged her way through the door; the inside of the Sugarcube Corner was black.

"Spike!" - She created a ball of light to search the place; what is all this? - walls completely covered in hangings that looked very much like the night sky, and there was Spike standing with Rarity and Rainbow Dash, and he looked completely fine; "Hey, what's going on-"

From in front and behind her came the cry: "Happy birthday, Twilight!"

"What-"

"Oh, Twi," laughed Spike; "don't tell me you forgot your birthday again!"

"Haha!" - Rainbow Dash looped the loop overhead and landed close by; "Typical egghead Twilight, I bet your head was buried in a book the whole day!"

"But- but Pinkie said-"

"Oh," Pinkie half-sang as she pranced next to Twilight; "I had to tell you that, to get you here without your guessing the surprise! And it worked!"

Twilight walked towards Spike, concern still written all over her face.

"You are okay then?"

"Uh, yeah? What does it look like?"

"Spike, why did you wander off like that? Without even telling me you were going? I was worried all the way here, and then Pinkie Pie said-"

"Chill out, Twilight," said Rainbow Dash, half laughing; "Pinkie does this kind of thing all the time!"

"No offence, Rainbow Dash," snapped Twilight; "but you wouldn't understand. Rarity, how would you like it if Pinkie Pie told you Sweetie Belle was ill to get you to a party?"

Clearly amused, Rarity raised a hoof and smirked; "Why darling, she has done exactly that before."

"But- I-" Twilight sputtered; Pinkie Pie entered her field of vision from a corner, eyes wide.

"Aw, I'm sorry if I worried you Twilight, but me and Spike have been planning this for ages, and it was supposed to be a surprise and - well, SUPRISE!" - she smiled widely, eyes closed, and party music started playing from the gramophone on the central table. Twilight felt her anger subsiding. She glanced up at the wall hangings; they were certainly impressive, even if the effect was diminished somewhat by the pink and purple balloons scattered around the room.

"Wait. Pinkie Pie, did you do all this?"

"Well, I organised it and got the balloons and the streamers and baked the cake and the cupcakes, but Spike and Rarity put together the ... uh ... well, I don't know what you'd call it, but it's great!"

"Yes," murmured Twilight, fully taken in by the effect of the light playing on the diamonds; "it's ... beautiful."

"Isn't it just, though? It took me simply ages, darling, but I think the effect was well worth the effort!"

"It's... it looks real. Well, accurate; is that-"

"Yeah, Twi; you remember you were asking for that book - The Rudiments of the Night Sky? Well, I lent it to Rarity, and-"

Rarity coughed (so gracefully, thought Spike, his throat feeling like it had swelled, unable to speak), walked towards Twilight; she levitated a perfectly gift-wrapped box trailing behind her: "That is the first part of my gift. In this box is the second part which, I am sure you will agree, compliments the first quite nicely."

The box landed precisely in front of Twilight. The purple unicorn began unwrapping, hesitant at the fear of ruining Rarity's finely-made wrappings, but with a thrill of excitement running through her body. Finally she saw what was there: a perfectly formed diamond, nearly as large as her head, connected to a fine golden chain.

"It's ... lovely, of course, Rarity. But what is it?"

"Oh, it's something special. I cut it in a very specific way, so that - well. You'll see, if you let me move it-" - she levitated the gem, dangling from its chain, into the centre of the room; "Pinkie Pie, could you please turn the light off? Spike, be a dear and close the door, please."

The room was plunged into darkness once more.

"Now, Twilight, if you create a ball of white light; and float it up into the centre of the diamond - yes!"

Floating there, the diamond cast a full spectrum of light in an off-centre circle around the room. Rarity started it rotating; each colour of light reflected in a different way on the diamonds; one moment each of the little stars was chalky blue, then green, then yellow; cycling through the whole spectrum. Everypony was gazing up in amazement, and so didn't register the flash of white light in one corner of the room.

"Well now," spoke princess Celestia, drawing gasps out of everypony; "that is pretty."

Rarity dropped the stone with a start; it fell to the ground with a satisfying thud. Twilight's globe-light fizzled out and Pinkie Pie switched on the light. All turned to face Celestia, and lowered their heads in a bow.

"Princess Celestia! I had no idea-" -Twilight spotted a dark blue, slightly smaller pony next to her mentor- "A-and princess Luna! It's such a- a- I mean, it's great to see you both, I wasn't expecting-"

"Oh, I shouldn't want to miss this birthday party of yours, Twilight Sparkle. And please, my little ponies; I would rather if you would not bow to me today. I am, after all, not here on official business. Say hello, Luna."

Everypony stood up. Luna spoke, in an almost-whisper, not catching anypony's eye: "Hello."

There was an awkward silence, broken by the door slamming open and Applejack walking in.

"Phew-ie! Ah tell you hwut, it was not easy sneakin' in 'round the long way trailin' that cart behind me, but- oh, Twilight ... ah see y'all started the party without-" - she stopped, wide-eyed, as she spotted Celestia; "Uh. Um, p-princess! Ah didn't know you'd be, uh!" - she remembered to bow - "Gracing us with yer presence here, today!"

"Please, Applejack, don't bow to me today. This is Twilight Sparkle's birthday party, and I'm only here to wish her well. Now, what's next?"

It was, of course, Pinkie Pie who was the first to get over her shyness towards the princess and speak.

"Weell, we were just giving Twilight her presents (my personal favourite part of the whole thing) - I was going to go next, but if you want to, you just go on ahead!"

"Well," the princess said softly; "I suppose we have two gifts for you, my student. There is this-" an sturdy wooden box popped into existence, covered in ornate gold leaf. Everypony crowded around to get a closer look at the royal gift; it had some strange writing on the top, along with what looked like a stylised double-headed eagle.

"Open the box, Twilight Sparkle."

Twilight nodded, concentrated momentarily; and the lid swang open. Inside were a pair of strangely-shaped sticks, made of a material Twilight didn't recognise. One end of each stick was quite thick, but rapidly tapered off. There were two strange straight petuberences on one side; the other end was a tube about as wide as the base of a pony's tail. Twilight attempted to levitate one, but found a force holding it down.

"Be very careful with these, for they are possibly the most dangerous things you have seen. You should leave them alone for now."

Twilight stopped trying to move the stick, turned to face Celestia.

"What are they?"

"Weapons. The ones who made them call them lasguns."

"Las...guns."

Rarity made a polite coughing sound.

"Your majesty, I hope you don't mind me saying so, but we have no need for any weapons in Ponyville. Especially ones so - and I hope you will forgive my bluntness - crude. How could such misshapen things be a threat to anypony?"

Celestia's smile lessened slightly. Quietly, she spoke: "I am very much afraid you will find out soon. Rarity, these weapons were not made to be used by Ponies ... but enough of that. I don't want to darken your day. - she looked back at her sister, who nodded slightly; "Now, on to our second gift, the most valuable thing there is: knowledge. If it is acceptable to you, Twilight, my sister would like to stay with you for a while, to further your magical training."

Naval Tradition

The air was cloyingly hot in the main hold of the Divine Right of Might. The 9th Akarak "Demoralisers" had been there for the better part of a month, at the command of Inquisitor Darkium; by the Emperor, when will we get there? thought custodian Khofi, standing from his bunk and moving to the door. He opened it and the stench of sweat assailed his nostrils; earlier in the month this would have made him step back in disgust, but by now he had adjusted. He straightened his uniform, checked that his painstick and set of keys were in position; started walking down the walkway and looked to the barracks-cages on his left.

Inspecting the cages was his daily routine, and his assistants knew to leave him to it: ten minutes before the official wake-up time, he expected the inmates to be standing to attention in two rows (as there was not enough room for them to stand single-row), with their uniforms in order. As he reached the third, final cage of ten men under his command, Khofi saw one man's collar was slightly asymmetrical; stopped in his tracks, smiled sadistically. He took a single step towards the cage gate, breathed out. Everyone in the cage stood a little straighter; a trickle of sweat ran down the shaved brow of the man in Khofi's gaze.

"You." spoke Khofi, raising his arm to point at the man; "Madrin. Come to the front of the cage."

This had only happened twice to unit 14c, but they knew well what to do and stepped aside as Madrin moved to the front of the cage, his eyes fixed at a point beyond the custodian's head. Two assistant custodians walked briskly to each of Khofi's sides, painsticks armed and in hand.

"The rest of you: compliance position three."

Everyone but Madrin sat cross-legged, hands placed flat on their heads. Khofi took another step towards the cage, looked straight into Madrin's eyes.

"Hal Madrin, prisoner number 14c09; for infraction of the uniform codes, I sentence you to a level two punishment beating. Compliance position two." - breathing heavily, Madrin placed his hands behind his head, threading his fingers together. Khofi selected the appropriate key from his keyring and unlocked the door.

"Come out here."

Khofi felt a sense of satisfaction at seeing how Madrin's legs trembled as they moved. He looked the man - more of a boy, really, he mused to himself - up and down, wetted his lower lip in anticipation. The custodian closed the sliding cage door as soon as Madrin exited.

"Turn to face the door," he said, the contempt dripping from his voice disguising his sense of arousal; "and take off your top - leave it on the floor."

As Madrin unbuttoned and removed his top, Khofi walked around behind the man and took off his belt; looped it to create a sturdy club. He took a moment to admire the man's supple, smooth back; then he pulled his arm back and brought the belt down in an arc, gently tapping Madrin's back - though the man flinched as if he had been hit full-on. Khofi sniggered.

"Hold on to the bars of the cage, Madrin. The next one will be harder."

Just an instant after the young man's hands made contact with the bars, the first blow struck. After the third blow, Khofi started watching unit 14c in their cage. Some of them were sitting with their eyes closed, trying to ignore what was going on; most were flinching in time to the sound of the blows (like a rock hitting raw meat); one - Vimel Casari - was looking straight into Madrin's eyes, with an inscrutable, blank expression. On the fifth blow Madrin let out a low, pained moan. After the eighth blow his breathing deepened; he swallowed, trying to hold back the tears already beginning to stream down his face.

After the twelfth blow Khofi stopped. He looked at Madrin's back, now a mass of swollen red flesh. He ran his hand slowly down the man's back, savouring the way Madrin convulsed and tried not to make a sound. He took a step back and stuck again; this time Madrin cried out. Thank the Emperor for this uniform, thought Khofi, hitting again, and again. Madrin's knees buckled; he tried to steady himself against the cage, but another blow came, and another; his palms were covered in sweat, and he collapse onto his knees. Khofi hit him one more time for good measure. Madrin was sobbing, tears and snot combining to form a shiny film over his lower face.

Slowly, Khofi put this belt back on. He pushed Madrin aside with his foot and opened the cage door.

"Get in."

Slowly, holding onto the edge of the door-frame for balance, the man obeyed. Khofi kicked his top in after him and slammed the door. He looked at his watch, then back at the quivering body, then around at the unit.

"All at ease. ALL AT EASE." - he shouted for the benefit of 14b and 14a, who he was sure would have stood to attention throughout the whole thing.

"Morning fire drill is in fifteen minutes. Make sure he is able. Madrin, check your uniform this time."

Admiral Kil-ban-Ocean yawned loudly, stretched his arms. The air in his cabin (it pleased him to think of his four-room suite in such terms) was refreshingly cool against his naked flesh, the excess heat being dumped in the main hold. It was made all the sweeter by the Inquisitor's complaints on the issue; oh I am sorry, Kil-ban-Ocean had replied; but it is an unavoidable malfunction. I am quite sure the tech-priests will have it fixed in a few days. Of course the truth was that the admiral had been the one to alter the heat distribution in the first place.

It had occurred to him that the regiment staying down in the hold might not appreciate a five-degree increase in temperature, but he had taken a dislike to their colonel when he referred to his men as 'the worst dregs of subhuman scum ever to be collected in a single place'. Ah well, he thought happily; with an attitude like that, the man will be dead within a day of landing.

The thought made the admiral chuckle merrily; that (not inconsiderate) movement of mass made him realise that he was feeling hungry. He pulled on the soft rope hanging from the ceiling; not two seconds later one of the cabin-boys entered his bedroom. Kil-ban-Ocean smiled at the boy's complete lack of reaction to his nakedness.

"Why hello there ... Regalis, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir." - his voice was half-broken, on the cusp of adolescence.

"Mm, be a darling and fetch me a chocolate cake from my holy refrigeration unit."

The boy walked swiftly into the next room. Kil-ban-Ocean could hear the automatic Hymn of the Open Door ('By the holy machinations / of the blessed omnissiah / may this machine never falter / may He guide us to the future...' and so on, for three more increasingly tedious verses); then he heard footsteps coming towards him. The boy was carrying a silver tray with the cake on top; next to the cake was a small silver plate, a cake knife and a tiny fork.

"Shall I cut the cake, sir?"

"Yes, Regalis; a large slice, please."

Kil-ban-Ocean farted with excitement as the boy put the tray on the table and cut it so efficiently. Regalis handed him the plate and watched intently as the admiral ate the delicous slice of cake. Kil-ban-Ocean noticed that the cabin-boy's gaze wandered to the cake, how his nostrils flared up at the sickly-sweet smell. When he was finished, he passed the plate back. Do net let it be said that I am not generous, he thought.

"You may eat the crumbs, Regalis."

"Th-thank you, sir."

Kil-ban-Ocean smiled magnanimously; watched Regalis' lips as they brushed against the fine silver of the plate. It is going to be a good day, he mused.

"You missed a spot, you shit-eating son of a whore!"

"A-ah, I'm sorry, chief, please, I haven't slept in-"

Dutal saw the booted foot coming towards him, but he couldn't move out of the way in time (though doing so would only have made things worse). He was sent sprawling across the corridor, hit his head on the bulkhead. He didn't move, except to look at chief petty officer Travis with nervous apprehension.

"You dare- You dare talk back to me, you worthless little scrap of nothing!?" - Travis took a step towards Dutal; "What are you?"

"Ah- I'm a worthless li-little scrap of nothing, chief."

Travis placed his foot on Dutal's thigh, just below where the dirty rags the man was wearing ended. Dutal could feel his bladder screaming for release, tried with all his might to avoid soiling himself.

"That's right. That's right. You are a smear of shit on the face of humanity, Dutal. But I am a man. You will spend your whole pathetic life toiling down here, but I have no intention of ending my days in your company. The admiral could come down and inspect here at any time, and I won't allow your incompetence- is that blood!?"

Travis leaned down, pulled Dutal's head away from the bulkhead wall. He quivered with anger, breathed heavily; then slapped Dutal's face with the back of his hand and let go of his hair.

"You are bleeding on my corridor? You worthless, donkey-fucking whoreson! Get up!"

Dutal scrambled to get up off the floor; Travis pulled a knife from his belt, placed it at Dutal's throat.

"Ch-chief-"

"Don't you speak - you breathe one more word today and I'll cut out your tongue. Just listen. I'm going to go and inspect the work of your fellow bastard slaves. When I'm back, this floor will be suitable to eat off of; or I will slit your throat. Do you understand, fuckwit?"

Dutal nodded slowly, horribly aware of the blade at his throat.

"Good," spat Travis, spittle sprinkling Dutal's face.

Midday feeding (not lunch, they had been told; lunch is what men get; animals just get fed) in the main hold. Unit 14c were sitting around their table (a plain, cold metal table with hard steel benches), hunched over their bowls of thin soup and single slice of bread. Madrin was sitting next to Casari, but everyone was avoiding his gaze. Conversation was muted but constant, and there were two topics that kept coming up: exactly how long custodian Khofi would last planetside; and what, exactly, they were going to fight.

"I know," said Larek Dag; "I know what we're fighting. Cyril Slani, he's one of the colonel's personal men - he overheard a meeting, and he told me."

Dag stopped, took a sip of his soup; then another, eliciting a groan from the man sitting opposite - Fier Caman, the smallest man in the group; but someone the others knew not to mess with. Dag ignored him, ate a mouthful of the sour bread.

"Well?" snapped Caman; "You gonna share with the rest of us, or what?"

"Mm. Okay. So he told me: we're going to be fighting little flying horses."

"Horses. Fuck's sake, Larak - you shitting me, or are you that stupid?"

"Well, not actual horses, you know; shaped like them, though. But that's not the best bit, not by a long shot."

"Go on then, what's the good fucking news?"

"Well-" - he took a slurp of his soup, leaned a little closer; "-you'll love this: their population is nine-out-of-ten female."

Caman snorted with laughter, nearly spilled his soup.

"You'd do the little flying horses, Larak? You're fucked in the head."

"Hey, yeah I'd do the little flying horses. I mean, unless you're volunteering, Fier."

Dag realised his mistake a second after he spoke. Ashen-faced, he looked at Caman; saw that the other man had lowered his spoon. Casari was looking at both of them, his face (as always) a mask of indifference. Caman spoke with a tone of barely-controlled anger.

"You fucking watch yourself, horse-fucker. I could snap you in-"

"Unit 14c!" - it was Khofi, striding towards them, flanked by his assistant custodians; "Compliance position three!"

They all placed their hands on their heads, stayed exactly still. Khofi walked around the table, behind Madrin and Casari.

"Madrin. Stand up. You're coming with me."

Everyone there recognised the sadistic glee in Khofi's voice. Madrin and Casari glanced at each other as the younger man rose. A flicker of emotion moved across Casari's face - anger, perhaps - and he turned around to face Khofi.

"Custodian. How long do you think you'll live, when we get where we're going?"

Khofi drew his painstick from his belt; it crackled into life, electricity arcing over it's surface.

"What did you just say?"

"You're going on like this: how long-"

Khofi slammed the painstick over Casari's face, then pulled him back and hit him again. Casari was laying on the floor, blood leaking from a thoroughly broken nose; Khofi stamped on his chest.

"Insolence and threatening a custodian - that'll be a level three beating, and your unit will be on half-rations for a week, you walking piece of shit." - he looked up at the assistant custodians; "Take him. We're going to the stockade."

After they had left, dragging Casari's numb form behind them, Madrin sat down. He started to sob quietly; the rest of the unit tried their best to ignore him.

The Hangover

Twilight could hear a slow rhythmic thumping somewhere to the left of her head. She started to open her eyes, but the light burned them; she pulled a pillow over her head. The thumping got louder and louder; and then she realised that it wasn't a sound at all, but a throbbing sensation pulsing through her head. Trapped under the pillow, her breath warmed the air she was breathing and she started to feel bile crawling up her throat.

The purple unicorn tentatively removed the pillow: the light hitting her face made the pain in her head go from irritating straight to jackhammer-of-the-soul. She rolled onto her side, screwed her eyes as tightly shut as possible; but this only made things worse. For an awful moment Twilight was acutely aware of her body touching the sheets and mattress of her bed, which was touching the floor of the library, which extended down to the roots of the tree, which were intermingled with a system stretching out over-

She fell off her bed, hit her head on the floor, felt a sudden flare of pain.

"Uhh..."

Hey, I don't remember getting here, how did- - she heard the crinkle of a page being turned and was suddenly very still. Her throat was sore and very dry, but she somehow managed to croak out:

"Spike..? Is that ... Spike?"

No answer was forthcoming. Twilight staggered to her hooves and half-trotted-half-fell down the stairs, tripped, went flying off the edge of the turn in the stairs. In the moment before she hit the ground, Twilight just had time to think, oh, horseapples-

She felt a familiar pressure all over her body, saw a shimmering light playing over her hair - Twilight was gently lowered to the ground. She blinked once, de-blurred her vision; saw the princess Luna sitting on the ground, book open in front of her, looking at Twilight with a curious expression on her face and forelegs tucked underneath her body. A merest glimmer of purple light moved over Luna's horn, and she spoke:

"Are you feeling better..?"

Twilight's ears twitched with each word, trying to block out the ice-shards of pain stabbing into her brain. She shook her head, nearly lost balance, sat down in a way that could not be called elegant. Her throat was very dry.

"N-no, I ... your majesty, what-"

"I never liked all that."

"Never ... liked ... what, princess..?"

Luna stood up in a single, smooth motion and trotted to the door; pulled it open. In floated a large wooden bathtub, steam roiling off the top.

"Oh, your majesty, that sort of thing. There's a jug of water over there."

The bathtub settled on the floor in the middle of the library. Twilight inched her way over to the jug of water and took a sip; then a gulp. After a moment of silence, Luna spoke again.

"That was good cider your friend brought over. A nice break from the wine my sister normally has. It reminded me of ..."

Her head was slightly clearer now, but Twilight could feel an all-over ache that went straight to the bone. She looked around the room (everything in place), then at Luna; the princess cleared her throat quietly.

"The best cure for a hangover is a long, hot bath. And plenty of water to drink."

"Hey-a Applejack! Hey Fluttershy!"

Applejack forced her eyes half-open to see Pinkie Pie looking right into her face, smiling widely. Fluttershy shivered and whimpered lightly, lying next to her on the bed.

"Pinkie ... Pie-"

"Ooo!" - her high-pitched voice sounded like a hoof being dragged over a blackboard, and she was entirely too happy considering the amount she had drunk the night before; "So you're awake! WAKEY-WAKEumphf."

Applejack shoved her hoof into Pinkie's mouth with a little more force than was strictly necessary.

"Sugar. Just ... calm it down, ahkay?"

"Mn mnph mn mnph umph!"

"Okay. Ah'm a-gonna let you speak. Quietly, now."

Applejack pulled out her hoof slowly; Pinkie Pie massaged her jaw. She opened her mouth to speak, took in a deep breath.

"Quietly, now."

"But Applejack," stage-whispered Pinkie Pie; "You said you really needed to be up for market day, so I thought-"

Applejack shot out of the bed, stumbled a little, fell flat on her face.

"Aw, no! Aw HORSEAPPLES, how could ah forget!?"

Fluttershy whimpered pointedly and pulled a pillow over her head. Applejack staggered to stand, then noticed the quality of the light coming from the window.

"Pinkie Pie ... what's the time'a the day?"

Pinkie Pie looked up, eyes narrowed, chewing her lip for a moment. Applejack picked up her hat from the bedpost, put it on; she could hear Pinkie counting under her breath.

"It's, umm ... it's about eleven thirty-four and nineteen seconds. Oh! Twenty seconds. I mean, not now: now it's eleven thirty-four and twenty-three seconds."

"Con-SARNIT! Aw, ah'm never gonna make it home'n back to town in time ta sell any apples!"

"Could you please keep it down..?" whispered Fluttershy, but Applejack was too agitated to notice and Pinkie Pie was intently watching a fly buzz around the room. Applejack hurridly stumbled towards the stairs, to get out through the Sugarcube Corner, then stubbed her hoof on the room's doorframe.

"Youch!" - this seemed to make something click in Pinkie Pie's head, because she just then appeared right next to Applejack.

"Oh, you don't need to worry about that, Applejack! I saw Big Macintosh sellin' apples at you stall earlier!"

Applejack sat down heavily, shot Pinkie Pie a (completely wasted) dirty look.

"Then why- why d'ya wake me?"

"Uh, DUH," (another pitiful moan from Fluttershy); "Because you ASKED me to, last night!"

"But, sugarcube, ah only needed to get up so ah could get to the market on time'n ya didn't wake me up early enough for that!"

"Oh! Well, uh, do you want to go back to sleep then?"

Applejack adjusted her hat, then carefully stood up. She looked out the window on the far side of the room, at the clear blue sky.

"Nah, ah'm up now, ah gotta go help Big Macintosh. Uh ... ain't we supposed to be havin' rain tonight? The sky's mighty clear-"

Pinkie spun on the spot, bounded to the window (the creak of the floorboards where she landed eliciting another pathetic whimper from Fluttershy), looked out at the sky.

"Oh, yeah, not a cloud in the sky! Oh! OH! I remember!" - she looked at Applejack again, a broad smile painted across her face; "Princess Celestia took Rainbow Dash with her when she left! Hmn, I wonder what that's all about..."

Rainbow Dash glided past the late-morning sun, casting a shadow over the walkways of Cloudsdale. She breathed in the crisp, cold air and labouriously looped-the-loop to change direction and head towards the town hall. It's good to be back here, she thought, briefly glancing up at the compressed-cloud columns at the front of the building as she landed.

The town hall was very spacious; large enough to hold a few hundred standing and about the same amount flying. It was almost empty as Rainbow Dash entered, but for the single orange pegasus talking to- Is that ... Gilda..?

Rainbow Dash blinked, rubbed her eyes; it was not Gilda - the griffon Spitfire had been talking to (walking away now) was slightly larger, with a lighter plumage. Rainbow Dash felt a slight disappointment, but this was replaced with excitement as the Wonderbolt turned to face her and started walking slowly over.

"Hey! Rainbow Dash, is that you?"

The blue pegasus' mouth dropped down to the ground. Spitfire stopped for a moment, raised a hoof, a look of concern mixed with amusement crossing her face.

"Are, ah - are you okay..?"

"Y-you ... you know my name!?"

"Well, sure," chuckled Spitfire; "Winner of the Best Young Flier competition? You saved my life right there, plus we met at the Grand Galloping Gala, plus Princess Celestia told me to be on the lookout for you - why wouldn't I know your name?"

"Yeah, I guess, but I- I mean, just ... you know my name!"

"Ahahaha!" Spitfire was right in front of Rainbow Dash now, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of her eye; "Oh, kid, you crack me up!"

"Ahe-he..." Rainbow Dash laughed along nervously; "So, uh, how's stuff in the Wonderbolts going?"

"Oh, you know: performing for crowds of thousands, doing tricks, spinning around and having kicks. It's a lot of fun. So, uh, how much have you been told?"

"Told..? Oh, by the princess, yeah! Uhm ... not much, really. She just said that there was something she needed good flyers for, so I said-"

"She really didn't tell you anything?"

Rainbow Dash tapped her mouth a couple of times, trying to remember through the alcoholic fog of the night before.

"Well ... she might have told me something, but I can't remember, so maybe you should fill me in?"

"That's what I'm here for, kid. Okay, you're not gonna believe this. There's other planets out there, whole worlds like Equestria, around each star in the sky, okay? And there's life on some of these other planets, alright? All scattered throughout the night sky, all sorts of different shapes and sizes. Some of them can travel between the planets on sort of ... huge ships. You with me so far?"

Rainbow Dash blinked once, looked at the floor, then at Spitfire. This was not what she had been expecting.

"Is this some kinda joke?"

"No. Not even a little bit."

"But there's no air when you get up that high! How do they-"

"I don't know how it works, that's not the important bit. There's one group out there, called the Imperium of Man."

"They are ... from what my sister has told me, they are not nice people. Did you ever study history, Twilight?"

Sitting on the grass in the midday sun, Twilight took a sip of ice-cold water before answering.

"Yes, but not in much depth."

"So you know what Equestria used to be like, before ... a long time ago?"

"Uh ... it was lots of little countries, wasn't it? Always fighting each other, until princess Celestia united them all?"

Luna smiled vaguely at the mention of her sister. She had been staring into the mostly cloud-free sky while talking - she won't make eye contact for more than a second, thought Twilight.

"It was horrible. One lot would chase other ponies out of a town; or they would trap them and ... kill them. Or worse."

Twilight raised an eyebrow, nearly smirked at such a suggestion.

"What could it be worse than killing them?"

Luna's head snapped around to face her, a haunted look in her eyes; she looked straight though Twilight.

"Plenty of things. I won't - you don't want to know. Anyway," she turned back to looking at the sky; "There was one group of ponies, they decided that everypony different from them ... had to die. They thought they couldn't trust anypony else, that that was their only chance to survive."

"But that's crazy!"

"I'm glad you think so. They eventually collapsed in on themselves - they stopped trusting each other, which was inevitable, I suppose."

Luna rested her head on the ground, eyes closed, remembering something unpleasant. Birds chirped in a nearby tree, causing Twilight to flinch slightly; she took a sip of the water from the jug in front of her.

"So. What does that have to do with this Imperium?"

Luna opened her eyes, but kept her head in the same position.

"As Celestia described it, the Imperium of Man is like those ponies. They hate all living things, but themselves. They teach their children to hate." - Luna shuddered - "But Celestia learned this by befriending one of them. Wel Raleigh, and his crew. Apparantly they were last here seventy years ago."

"So ... are we friends with them, or..?"

"Wel Raleigh was an ... explorer, and a travelling merchant." - Luna stood up, started walking towards town; Twilight got up and followed: "He promised he would keep us a secret from the Imperium. But a few days ago, we received a warning that they are going to attack Equestria soon."

"What?" sputtered Twilight; "But- but shouldn't we be preparing!? When are they going to get here!?"

Luna glanced at Twilight; is this filly really so powerful as Celestia says?

"Preperations are being made. Celestia's gathering pegasi, and the griffons have agreed to help, to trap them as they try and land. That is why I am here to train you: in preparation. How are you with moving small things?"

Twilight sped up to catch up with Luna.

"What, with my magic? I'm okay, I guess. I mean, it takes a lot of concentration, but-"

"You can teleport, right?"

"Um, yes."

"Can you teleport things other than yourself?"

"Uh, well, I can take stuff with me when I teleport somewhere-"

Luna stopped abruptly, surveyed the scenery: they were nearing the centre of town. A few ponies were passing on the road, some giving the winged unicorn uncertain looks, but most were already at the market for the day. Her gaze settled at the foot of a tree.

"Twilight, do you see that rock, by the tree?"

"Yes?"

"Bring it over here."

"Ookay..."

Her eyes narrowed in focus, Twilight's horn glowed. An aura floated around the rock and it levitated in the air. It started moving towards them, then suddenly dropped to the floor. Twilight concentrated harder, tried to push all her energy into the thing, but it wouldn't budge. Panting and sweating, she finally gave up.

"I-I'm sorry, Luna, but it must be-"

Turning to face the princess, Twilight saw that Luna was looking straight at her with a strange expression - something between surprise and fear. Luna was breathing a little more heavily than before, and a few beads of sweat had formed on her brow.

"Did you- were you stopping me from moving it?"

"Yes. I want you to try teleporting it here."

"O-oh. Oh, okay." - Twilight nodded, turned to look at the rock. She had read about this in Advanced Magic, but had not had the time to try it. I've got to imagine the rock being here, but not how it should move here...

For a few minutes nothing happened, save for a few sparks shooting off Twilight's horn. She was acutely aware of Luna's intense gaze focused on the back of her head. Then, with a sound somewhere between an imploding paper bag and an apple crushed underhoof, the rock disappeared and flashed into existence, right in front of Twilight. Smiling widely, she turned to face Luna again. The princess nodded, smiled wanly.

"Good, but you need practice. Come on ..."

Side by side, they continued walking towards the market.

"Let's see ..." - Spike examined the list of ingredients, checking for what he had in the cart already; "Eggs, check; strawberries, check; a bottle of milk, check; banana, check; apples, ch- oh."

He sighed and started walking, pulling the cart awkwardly behind him, across Ponyville's town square. He had to stop every few seconds to let an oblivious pony cross his path - it was busy, even for a market day. It took him nearly five minutes to reach Applejack's stall; he was taken aback to see Big Macintosh standing there (the usual neutral expression on his face). Oh yeah, he thought; Applejack did challenge Celestia to a drinking competition, she's probably got it even worse than Rarity.

"Hey, Big Macintosh, how's it hanging."

"Eeyou know. Same old, same old. You lookin' to buy any apples?"

"Yes. I need a bag of, uh ..." he checked the list; "Golden Delicious?"

Big Macintosh chewed absently on the piece of straw dangling from the corner of his mouth, nodded at the cart behind Spike.

"You fixin' up a hangover cure for Twilight?"

"Oh, no. Rarity sent me to get this stuff for her."

The red pony raised his eyebrow, the faintest trace of a smile moving over his face.

"Well, that'll be three bits for a bag'a six apples."

Spike payed and took his apples, then turned around to see a familiar figure making her way towards him.

"Hey! Twilight!" - he noticed the taller, dark-blue form of princess Luna walking besides Twilight; "And princess Luna! How's it hangin'?"

"Spike, where did you get to? And ... what's all this?"

"Oh, and good morning to you, too! After Luna took you home, the party wound down. I walked Rarity home, and this morning I helped Pinkie Pie clean up Sugarcube Corner. Rarity asked me to get all this stuff for her."

Twilight eyed him suspiciously.

"Where did you sleep, then?"

"Oh," chattered Spike nonchalantly; "On the floor. Rarity has pretty thick carpets, you know."

He was suddenly aware of Luna looking at him, a bemused expression on her face. Big Macintosh started chuckling softly; Spike spun around to face him.

"What?"

"Oh, nothin'. You lookin ta buy any apples, Twilight? Or, uh, princess Luna?"

Twilight looked at Luna, who nodded. She walked closer to Big Macintosh.

"Hmm ... how much for two dozen?"

"Well, o'course that depends on what kinda apples you're lookin' to buy."

"Well, I'm going to be practising my magic on them, not eating them, so I guess whatever's cheapest-"

"Here, let me help ya'll with that-" - it was Applejack, staggering up to the stall. She leaned against the side of it, closed her eyes for a long second; "alrighty, now-"

"Little sister, just what do you think you are doing?"

Applejack tried to fix him with a serious stare, but the sun was in her eyes so she had to keep blinking.

"Ah'm here ta help, o'course-"

"Applejack, you don't look well. Go and have a rest."

"Why, of all the-"

"I think he's right, Applejack," interceded Twilight; "You really don't look very well."

Applejack snapped around to give Twilight a dirty look but instead managed to trip over her own legs and fell flat on her face.

"Hrmph. Maybe ya'll have a point..."

Spike relaxed at last as he got to Rarity's front door; just as his hand touched the doorknob, he heard Sweetie Belle's voice piercing the upper frequency of audibility and flinched:

"Hey Spike!" - she was suddenly right behind him (how do those ponies do that?); "Do you know if Rarity's up yet?"

He turned around, then jumped backward a foot and hit his head on seeing all three of the 'Cutie Mark Crusaders' standing a few inches from his face, smiling freakishly large smiles. He rubbed his head, stood up, saw Scootaloo sniffing around his cart. Spike took a step forwards, putting himself between Rarity's ingredients and the curious little unicorn.

"No, I don't think so. You'll have to try again later."

"But she's supposed to be taking us to Whitetail wood!"

"Well, maybe you could ask Twilight to- urk-"

Apple Bloom leaned in closer; Spike didn't look well.

"Are you okay, Spike?"

"I- uck-" with a loud belch, a plume of green smoke shooting out of his mouth, curling around in a spiral until it reached a point and - poof! A standard scroll popped into existence. Spike caught it, but stopped himself from breaking the seal; he looked at the cart and thought: if I read this and it's important, then I'll have to leave Rarity alone and go find Twilight...

"Hey, girls; if you can get this letter to Twilight for me, I'm sure she'll take you to Whitetail wood!"

First Blood

Nine days had passed, and things had got worse for unit 14c. Casari had returned after his beating, his nose flattened against his face and several teeth missing; the sound of breath moving through his shattered face (a sort of wet rattle) kept everyone from sleeping properly, Casari included. Khofi, increasingly paranoid in his interpretations of the unit's every glance, had added another week to their period of half-rations, and the air was far hotter and more stifling than it had any right to be in a controlled environment. The heat exhaustion, sleep deprivation and lack of food were combining to make them fall far behind the other units on their combat training, which lead to more punishment beatings.

At twenty minutes to official wake-up time, Madrin sat up. He looked around the cell and saw that the other nine were still lying down. He blew out through his nose, trying to stop the stench of urine from the piss-bucket by his bed from infiltrating his nostrils. It didn't work - it never worked. His gaze settled on Vimel Casari and he felt the familiar stab of guilt at the sight of his friend's face. He looked at the floor, then at his hand; his stomach rumbled audibly, drawing a breathy laugh from the man sleeping next to him, Ginyard Salsot. Madrin stood, carefully picked his way across the prone men to get to the coat-hooks on the wall, took his and Casari's jackets.

Over the next few minutes everyone in unit 14c got up and got dressed: with a tired carefulness they checked that their uniforms were in order, then checked each other - Khofi had taken to punishing them collectively, so nobody could afford a uniform violation. At twelve minutes to the official wake-up time, unit 14c were standing to attention in two rows. They stood there, still and silent, for the two minutes until custodian Khofi's walked into view: they took care then to stare directly ahead, to make sure their backs were rod-straight.

Khofi walked cockily into view, flanked by two assistant custodians. He snapped smartly around to face them, malicious grin plastered over his face. Madrin noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that one of the assistant custodians was holding a large bag.

"Right then, you scum. Today is a very important day. We are almost at our destination, you see. Compliance position two, all of you."

They all placed their hands above their heads, fingers threaded. The assistant custodian to Khofi's left unlocked the door and slid it open. Khofi reached into the bag and pulled out a thick metal collar; it was hanging open at a hinge.

"So far, we have been keeping you in line with fear of pain," - his gaze lingered for a moment on Casari - "But in the heat of battle, that is sometimes not enough. These collars will provide a greater fear: they are packed with enough explosives to take your head clean off. And I can trigger any one of them with this." - he waved a little shiny remote control - "And before any of you vermin get any funny ideas: if I die, then three random collars will explode."

Khofi put the remote into his pocket, looked over unit 14c. They were still standing to attention, but he could see the nervous fear radiating off of them.

"Prisoner 14c01. Larek Dag. Get over here."

Dutal was on his knees, scrubbing the floor of the same section of gun-deck corridor that he had cleaned daily from the last three years - not that he knew exactly how long it had been since he had been pressed into service. It was a lonely, mind-destroying task: the only real human contact he had was with his supervisor, and the seven other men who shared his cabin. He hadn't had a proper conversation in all the time he had been on board.

The sound of boots on the metal floor, getting closer: Dutal started working faster; this time, if he sees how hard I'm working, maybe he'll leave me alone. The footsteps stopped at the end of the corridor behind Dutal. For a long moment there was no sound save that of the bristles of the scrubbing-brush rubbing against the floor.

"What are you doing?"

Dutal continued scrubbing, closed his eyes tightly. The footsteps started again, then stopped: Dutal could feel Travis looming over him. He could feel an ache over his back - a memory of old beatings. A part of him wanted to run away, but he knew that would only make things much worse. Another part - a tiny, almost-crushed inch of his being - screamed out to turn around and fight. But it was a very small part.

"You're going too fast, you ... you idiotic shit-head!"

The kick hit Dutal in the stomach, sent him sprawling on the floor. Dutal looked up at Travis, resigned to receiving another beating: he made no movement. Travis spat a green gob of phlegm at him: it clung to his ragged work-clothes.

"Fucking slave. No fucking pride. Stand up, you dog-fucking piece of shit!"

Dutal stood slowly, watching Travis for an indication of another blow, bracing himself against the wall. When Dutal was fully standing, Travis took a step towards him, smiling as the other man flinched at his approach.

"See, now: you've had plenty of time to get used to the job. Keeping the corridor clean, I think that should even be within your sub-human capacity. So that only leaves one explanation." - He delivered a quick jab to the gut, making Dutal double over - "I think you're fucking with me. Stand- STAND THE FUCK UP!"

In spite of the acute pain in his gut, Dutal stood. He felt nauseous; he sputtered:

"N-no, ple-ease-"

"No? Did you just- did I hear right? Are you trying to tell me what to do? Bastard!" - he slapped Dutal's face with the back of his hand - "Whoreson!" - and again. He let out a scream of frustration and kneed Dutal in the groin; Dutal threw up over him.

"You- you dare- you fucking dare to vomit on me, you fucking parasite!?" - he pulled his knife out from his belt, brought it up to Dutal's face:

"I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget." - he cut across Dutal's cheek, leaving a nasty gash; a flash of white light filled the corridor, though Dutal couldn't see it's source through Travis - "Hm. I wonder if you'll do your job any better with one eye-"

"Stop." - It was a woman's voice, a voice used to command. Travis spun around to face-

It was an impressive sight; the snowy white fur and feathers, the shifting borealan mane blowing in non-existent wind. Celestia walked towards him, hooves making a sharp click as they collided with the metal floor.

"What are you doing to this poor man?" - she was less than a foot from Travis now: panicked, he lunged with his knife; but his arm stopped mid-arc, a shimmering white light surrounding it. He looked at his hand and the winged pegasus in horror as his fingers were pried off of the knife - it didn't hurt, but it was an irresistible force. The knife floated up high, and then flew off behind the alien creature. He felt the pressure on his arm release; the creature turned to Dutal.

"Oh, my, that's a nasty cut ... here, let me-"

Her horn glowed, and so did the cut on Dutal's face. First the pain dulled, then he felt a strange sensation: as though his flesh was knitting together. He reached up and touched his cheek - it was slick with blood, and the flesh felt a little tight, but there was no wound. Dutal looked at Celestia, smiled weakly.

"Uh- ah, thank you."

She nodded.

"You're welcome. I don't suppose you could give me directions to the bridge..?"

"Uh-uhm, I ... I don't know where that is, sorry, I've only ever seen these sections of corridor. A-and the broadside guns."

"I see." - she turned to face Travis - "And do you know where the bridge of this ship is?"

Travis backed away from her, fear in his eyes, urine trickling down his leg. He opened his mouth, but only a quiet whimper emanated. Celestia raised an eyebrow.

"Never mind, I'll find it by myself. And I'll be watching you, so don't do this again."

Her horn glowed, a sphere of bright white light appeared around Celestia, and she disappeared.

Breakfast at the custodians' mess was of higher quality to the rank-and-file: today they were being served reclaimed sausages and fried red potato, as opposed to the prisoners' thin algae soup and lentil-bread. Most of the custodians were finishing their meals and getting up to leave, but colonel-custodian Mangum had not had time to eat: he was receiving a very disturbing report.

"All of it?" he was fanning himself with a sheaf of papers, looking at the senior vat-minder disbelievingly. The vat-minder - a lanky, bespectacled man of perhaps forty, with a nervous disposition quite unsuited to space travel - shuffled his feet, forced himself to meet the colonel's gaze.

"S-sir, it's an ongoing situation, with the emperor's blessing we might s-salvage one of the vats, but..." he trailed off, feeling foolish at the colonel's unblinking stare. Mangum leaned forwards in his chair.

"What exactly does this mean?"

"Er, a-at current rates of spoilage, the regiment will have enough food to last for ... maybe a week. Plus their emergency rations, of course-"

"Shut up."

Mangum considered the implications: if the algae vats were spoiled, then the Divine Might of Right would not be able to supply his soldiers with food; not without breaking into the ship's own supplies, which he doubted the fat admiral would countenance. The colonel had no qualms with his prisoners starving, but he had an emperor-sworn duty to make sure they were up to the fight. Maybe we can procure food on the alien world? - he didn't fancy trying whatever monstrous half-formed abominations doubtlessly passed for food amongst these 'Equestrians', but having his soldiers try it-

Mangum's train of thought was interrupted by a commotion outside his door: he could hear the unmistakable sounds of a panicked mass, and his blood ran cold. Are the prisoners rebelling? Surely not-

"Colonel!" - the scared cry from outside snapped him out of his building panic. He picked up his laspistol and walked to the door (ignoring the trembling vat-minder), swung it open and stepped into the custodian's mess.

The entire room was bathed in light; at the centre of the commotion, surrounded by a wide circle of custodians (some staring slack-jawed, some aiming at it, some looking to their weapons in confusion) stood the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. It's wings were flared open, horn glowing, a single front hoof raised curiously. She looked at him and spoke clearly in a woman's voice, with a tone of strained patience.

"You. Are you in charge of these?"

Mangum almost took a step backwards, but the weight of his laspistol gave him strength.

"Yes." - he swung the gun up to shoot-

-and the pistol was pulled out of his hand, thrown across the mess by an invisible force. Celestia started walking towards him, slowly, voice trembling with rage.

"You are in charge of this? You keep these people in cages, brutalise them, injure them!? Is this the camaraderie of the Imperial Guard that I heard so much about?"

She was looming over him now, looking down into his eyes. He could feel his knees going weak. He started patting his belt for his painstick. She continued:

"I will remember your face. I will find you, personally, if you step foot on-"

He swung the painstick up, electricity crackling over its surface, aiming for the creature's neck; it made contact and she screamed, took a step backwards. Mangum could see that he had cut the creature, there was a small amount of red blood seeping from the wound. He stepped forwards to press his advantage: there was a retina-scarringly bright white flash, and the creature disappeared.

"Lord Darkium on the bridge!"

The guard's shout made admiral Kil-ban-Ocean jump, releasing a small amount of gas and causing his thurifer to move. The admiral crane his neck to confirm, yes, that damned Inquisitor really is here again, then opened his mouth.

"Ah, Lord-"

"Send the lift down now, admiral."

Kil-ban-Ocean hesitated for a moment, then turned and nodded to one of the tech-priests.

"It's sending it down now, Lord Inquisitor; to what do I owe the honour of this visit?"

There was no reply, only the high-pitched hum of the lift's struggling old motor. Perhaps he's come to complain about the cold again? ...no, he's probably been monitoring onboard communications, he knows about this little problem! The admiral forced his face into the practised idiot grin that had led many to underestimate him, and the lift shuddered to a halt. Darkium stepped forward, anger painted over his face, loomed over the admiral. Kil-ban-Ocean widened his grin, met the Inquisitor's gaze.

"Why was I not informed immediately of the situation?"

"I assume you are referring to these reports of an alien on my sh-"

"You know damned well what I am talking about, admiral. Why was I not informed the instant you heard about this intrusion?"

"Lord Inquisitor, I was about to contact you. I did not wish to warn you until I was sure that these reports were accurate-"

The Inquisitor took another step forwards, hand resting on the butt of his pistol.

"It is not for you to make those judgements, admiral. This ship is seconded to me, and you command it by my sufferance. Do you understand?"

The admiral narrowed his eyes, dropped the smile. He felt his lip twisting into a snarl of contempt, but had enough self-control to stop that.

"Yes. I understand."

"When was the first report of the alien's presence?"

Kil-ban-Ocean glanced at the gold-plated Holy Timekeeper to his side, then back to the Inquisitor.

"About forty minutes ago."

"Within an hour of returning to realspace."

"Yes."

Darkium gave him a cold look.

"That was not a question. How far are we from the planet?"

"At our current speed, we should be in position to deploy the soldiers in just under seventeen hours."

"Can we-"

White light and a sound of held breath being released both came from behind Darkium; then there was the sound of regularly beating wings.

A long while ago - when he was barely a fully-fledged Inquisitor - Grimmus Darkium had killed a daemon. It had been on the garden-world of Gaiala, in the aftermath of a foiled Eldar plan: of course, it had turned out that they were the only thing holding back the warp-spawned monstrosity. The daemon - a vast, wriggling mass of slime and toothed tendrils - had seemed fundamentally unreal; sickeningly out-of-focus.

The alien creature hovering in front of him, beating it's wings to keep level with the admiral's podium, gave quite the opposite effect. It looked somehow more real than the command chamber. The white of it's hair and feathers, the clear pink of it's large eyes, the shifting colours of it's mane and tail; all contrasted strikingly with the foreboding darkness and garishly-impressive gold of the surroundings: but something else drew his gaze. It was as if the alien was bleeding into the foreground.

It had an impressive, regal presence. Grimmus took a second to glance around: the admiral and his thurifer were gazing, slack-jawed, in awe of the alien. Kil-ban-Ocena's bodyguard was slowly lowering his arms, trying to take in what was going on; one of the tech-priests was looking, confused, while another was too engrossed in whatever systems he was monitoring to pay any attention. The alien spoke with the voice of a woman, and Grimmus' attention snapped to it.

"So," she said in a calm tone that (Grimmus suspected, from the heavy bruise on the neck) hid whatever emotions she was feeling; "which one of you is the leader?"

The question snapped Grimmus out of the daze the alien's appearance had caused; in two jerking, lightning-fast movements he pulled out his plasma pistol and took aim.

"SHOOT IT!" he shouted, a fraction of a second before his finger recognised a disturbing smoothness where his pistol's trigger should have been. There was a horrible weight in the pit of his stomach that only grew heavier as he looked at his gun, confirming that the trigger was missing. A quick glance over the side of the podium told him that the command chamber's guards were experiencing the same problem.

"That would be you, then. What is your name?"

The alien was slowly moving closer. Grimmus dropped his pistol, moved his arms to be ready to grab his sword and strike; I'll play along, to buy time...

"I am Lord Darkium, of the Holy Inqui-"

"You're an Inquisitor? You were the one to find out about us?"

It knows of the Inquisition? That traitor Raleigh must have told them ... she's nearly close enough now...

"That I was."

"Wel Raleigh didn't give you this information freely. Is he dead?"

"YES!" - Grimmus pulled out his sword and lunged at the creature; but a sudden force acted over his whole body. He was stuck mid-arc, a pale light playing over him. Celestia looked at his sword with an expression of disdain: with a creak the blade began to bend - all the way around, until the end was pointing at Grimmus's eye, mere inches from his face. She landed on the lift platform, but kept her wings erect. She looked to one of the tech-priests and clicked in the static-esque secret language of the Mechanicum. The tech-priest was stunned into silence for a few seconds, then replied; the alien let out another short burst, and the tech-priest turned to his console.

"What are you- how do you know the language of the tech-priests?" - it was Kil-ban-Ocean; "What did you say!?"

The winged unicorn ignored him and looked at Grimmus. Suddenly he felt the pressure holding him in place leave; he stumbled uncouthly and dropped his sword off the side of the podium.

"How did he die?"

Grimmus met her gaze, his upper lip curved up with contempt.

"Slowly."

"And his daughter?"

"Hah! It's only a matter of time before my agents find her-"

"In the Emperor's name," - it was Kil-ban-Ocean; "What is going on!? Who- what are you?"

"She's a- a daemon!"

This elicited a snort of laughter from Celestia.

"Oho! Daemon! You are a very limited little person, aren't you? I'm no daemon. There is a word to describe me, but daemon is certainly not it."

Kil-ban-Ocean was on his feet now.

"Then what are you?"

She finally deigned to look at him now, the slightest hint of a smile emerging on her face.

"I raise the sun every morning, and I raise the moon every night. That is not a boast, or a metaphor: I have just told your tech-priest to look at the orbital mechanics of this system. When he is done he will tell you that they do not make sense, not without some outside force. I am that force. What do you think would be the right word?"

"Heresy!" sputtered Grimmus; "The God-Emperor of Mankind is the only true god! I know what you are, I name you-"

Celestia took a step towards the Inquisitor, looking deep into his eyes.

"You do not know what I am. If you did you would turn this ship around, and run back to your home, and hide in your bed, and pray to your corpse of a god that I do not come to seek revenge for the murder of my friend!"

Grimmus fell flat on his arse; for the first time in a long time he felt fear. He opened his mouth to speak, but his lips felt numb; there was a flash of light over his lower face, and they had been transformed into two tracks of a zipper, which promptly closed. Celestia rested a hoof on his chest.

"That's enough out of you." - she turned her head to face the admiral; "I know that you are here to kill us all. Before you make the attempt, you should know something: the value we place on friendship. We are kind and generous to strangers: we offer them food, and shelter, and whatever we can afford to give. But if that stranger were to harm our friends, we would not be quick to forgive. If someone was so foolish as to kill one of my friends - well. I would make sure they were unable to do so again. Wel Raleigh was my friend. I helped to raise his daughter - and if anything had happened to her, it would be the worse for you. His murderer will be punished."

She took her hoof off of Grimmus and turned to face the admiral fully; she spoke louder now, making sure the whole command centre could hear.

"The only thing stopping me from tearing your Imperium apart is the knowledge of the toll it would take on my little ponies. But know this, admiral: for every hair put out of place on the manes of every pony killed, or hurt, or inconvenienced by your invasion; I will rip a whole world out of your reach."

There was silence for half a minute; Kil-ban-Ocean was speechless, and nobody else would dare speak up. Celestia smirked; her horn glowed brightly for an instant, and then she and the Inquisitor disappeared in a flash of light.

Here They Be

The Cloudsdale town hall was almost packed with pegasi and griffons; some standing, some hovering in the air; the only free space was the conspicuously-empty raised stage at the front of the room. The low murmur of rumour permeated the air.

Rainbow Dash was standing very near the front of the hall, bunched up with the rest of Spitfire's team. She glanced backwards, could pick out a few familiar figures (the Wonderbolts, of course; and other famous fliers, and some other competitors from the Best Young Flyers competition). Everypony was in the group they had been training with, and the griffons (around a quarter of the crowd) were mostly in their own groups; the bulk of them had arrived the day before, ready just in time for princess Celestia's scheduled announcement.

"Hm." - Spitfire's voice pulled Rainbow Dash's attention away from the crowd; the Wonderbolt was looking, head tilted, at the empty stage; "I wonder what's keeping her..."

"Aw, I'm sure she has a good reason, Spitfire."

Spitfire turned to look at Rainbow Dash, paused for a second, nodded.

"Yeah, I'm sure you're right. Anyway, where were we?"

One of the other team-members spoke up: "Uh, you were telling us about the, uh, guns again."

"Oh! Right, so these guns, they're kind of tubes that shoot lightning, okay? Except the lightning doesn't go to ground, it travels in a straight line. What I've been told is that these guns on their ... flying ships are all facing forward, so you should make sure you get in plenty of movement parallel to them if you end up in front of one, and try not to stay in front for any more than a second or so. Got it? Just drop your cloud and get out of the way..."

"Ah- Rainbow Dash?" - a familiar voice; Rainbow Dash spun around to see her old friend Gilda standing there, obviously uncomfortable.

"Oh. Hi, Gilda."

"Yeah, Rainbow Dash, I- uh." - She scratched the ground, obviously embarrassed; "Uhn ... I wanted to apologise. For the way I acted when I was in Ponyville."

Rainbow Dash took a step backwards, tilted her head slightly, nearly laughed.

"Apologise? Gilda, since when do you apologise for anything?"

Gilda looked straight into Rainbow Dash's eyes, an unfamiliar look painted across the griffon's face.

"Since ... you know, since all this, I mean ... I don't want to leave things like- look, are you gonna accept my apology, or what?"

Is she ... scared..?

"Uh, yeah. Of course."

Neither of them spoke for a few seconds (though it felt like longer). Rainbow Dash could feel the whole team looking at her, but she couldn't think of anything to say, and Gilda was scratching the ground awkwardly. Then Spitfire spoke up, breaking the awkward moment:

"Hey, Rainbow Dash, aren't you going to introduce your friend?"

"Oh! Right! Everypony, this is Gilda, a friend of mine since forever," - Gilda smiled a little, raised her head; "Gilda, this is Spitfire - the leader of the Wonderbolts. And this ... is ..." - a bright white flash and it's accompanying sizzling sound interrupted, and Celestia appeared on stage.

"But sis, it'd be more, ah, e-fish-ant."

Applejack tipped a load of apples into the cart, looked at her sister askance.

"Ah-what-now?"

"Uhn!" - Apple bloom stamped her front-right hoof - "C'mon, Applejack, you know what ah mean! We could have loads'a more apples down every day if you'd just let me put up this zipline system!"

Applejack narrowed her gaze; oh, so that's what she's so excited about.

"A ziplahn system."

"Yup! An' we'd put the baskets'a apples on the zipline'n they'd slide on down to th' barn!"

"Apple Bloom." Applejack sighed and walked over to another basket; "Not all the trees are uphill from the barn, and besides, alla the apples'd get bruised goin' on a zipline." She started pushing the next basket towards the cart.

"Well, ah - ah guess ah'm not explainin' it right: it wouldn't be an actual zipline, it'd have ... what're they called ... pullers, 'n' little wheels'n stuff - oh! And maybe it could be powered by a water-wheel in the river!"

"Uh-huh."

"Is that a yes!?"

The basket was next to the cart now. Applejack braced herself against it and started pushing it up.

"Nope. Even if ya could get alla that t'work, ah reckon it wouldn't be done in time t'help any with this harvest," with a grunt, she got her front hooves under the bottom of the basket; "And it sounds like you'd need an awful lotta rope and timber and Celestia-knows-what else - and that stuff don't grow on trees."

Applejack tipped the apples on top of the cart, took two steps back and appraised it, nodded silently to herself.

"But, sis, timber does grow on-"

"It's a figure'a speech, Apple Bloom, it means that it'd be mighty expensive. Now, get haulin' that cart down to the barn and then go find Big Macintosh."

"Mm-mh!" - Pinkie Pie had her nose about an inch from the freshly-baked cakes, licked her lips; "Pinkie Pie, you've done it again!"

She opened her mouth so wide that on any other pony it would have been a sign of serious injury. She was about to take a bite when a rasping little voice interrupted:

"Um, Pinkie Pie, I don't think we're thuppothed to eat them..."

Pinkie's mouth slammed shut, she turned her whole body to look at Twist.

"What're you, the cake police?"

Twist took a step backwards, tilted her head back, unsure of what to say.

"I-I'm thorry?"

"Aw, don't worry 'bout it!" - Pikie was all smiles now, trotting across the kitchen to look at the mixing bowl Twist was using; "How's all this going, anyways?"

"Oh," Twist, still unused to Pinkie's rapid mood changes, moved nervously towards the bowl; got up on the stool and put her front hooves on the table: "It'th going thwimmingly, the mix ith nearly ready to go in the oven!"

With her mouth Pinkie gripped the wooden spoon, swirled it around and pulled it up; a clump of dough stuck to the spoon for a few moments and then fell into the bowl with a light thud. She put the spoon back and nodded happily.

"It seems really good, Twist! Maybe the best I've ever seen!"

"R-really!?"

Pinkie pondered this for a moment, tapping her jaw with her hoof.

"Well, no. But it does look really good. I can see why Mrs. Cake wants you to help out!"

"But, sis... there's ponies all around here!"

Rarity sighed - oh dear, her grammar has really gone downhill lately; forced a smile on her face and fixed her sister with a benevolent gaze.

"Sweetie Belle, I believe you mean that there are many ponies in the town square this afternoon, not that there ... is ponies 'all around here'; and that is rather the point of this little exercise."

"But-"

"Yes?"

Sweetie Belle scratched the ground, looked down, ears lowered.

"I..."

"What is it, Sweetie Belle?"

Sweetie Belle could feel a lump growing in her throat. She glanced nervously around the town square, looked into her sister's uncomprehending face, spoke quietly (almost to the point of a whisper):

"Sis, I can't sing in front of all of these ponies!"

Rarity rolled her eyes, took a step closer.

"Sweetie, darling, you have a simply fabulous singing voice; but you must get over this problem of performing in public. What exactly are you so afraid of?"

Sweetie Belle opened her mouth to speak, closed it again, took a few moments to think.

"What if ... what if they don't like my singing? What if they hate it? What if they hate me!? I mean-"

"Don't say such things!" - the defensive anger in Rarity's voice shocked her sister; "Sweetie, everypony will love your singing. And if anypony didn't - well, they'd have me to answer to! Now, come on, you need to get plenty of practice in for your school recital!"

Sweetie Belle lowered her head a little.

"I just ... can't. Sorry, sis."

Rarity shook her head; How did this get so bad..? She took another two steps towards her little sister, placed a hoof under Sweetie Belle's chin.

"Sweetie, always - always hold your head up high! Look in to my eyes. Good. Now, repeat after me: I, Sweetie Belle, have a fantastic voice; and I'm not afraid of anypony. Say it!"

"I-" she stammered; "I have a fantastic voice a-and I-I'm not afraid of anypony."

"Say it again, but louder this time."

"I have a fantastic voice," - Sweetie Belle could feel confidence building in her heart, as though by magic; "and I'm not afraid of anypony!"

Rarity removed her hoof, smiled and nodded.

"One more ti-"

"I have a fantastic voice," (a wide smile had spread across her face, her tail raised, ears pricked; in this moment she could do anything) "and I'm not afraid of anypony!"

"There, doesn't that feel better? Now - don't think about it; just sing."

Sweetie Belle nodded, closed her eyes, breathed in deeply, and began to sing.

Twilight Sparkle was standing with some unicorns from Celestia's school, waiting for princess Luna to arrive. The past two days had been a strange experience - when she had been living as Celestia's student in Canterlot, Twilight had always been too shy to make friends, always hiding behind the excuse of her studies; but now that she was open to talking to the other unicorns, most of them seemed intimidated by her as Luna's student.

Luna had left her here two days ago, flying away for what she would only describe as 'important business'. The little encampment was about halfway between Canterlot and Ponyville latitudinally, but quite a way east - a desolate, sparsely-populated scrubland in the middle of nowhere; too cold and exposed for anypony to want to live on, but perfect for Celestia's plan.

Twilight peered into the crowd, trying to spot Spike; about an hour ago he had started looking for Moondancer, the pony who had been second in Twilight's year at Celestia's school, and who had made the most concerted effort to break Twilight out of her shell. A few unicorns Twilight knew were not present, and Moondancer's absence was the most puzzling.

"Hullo there, Twilight Sparkle." - she recognised the voice (old and male, with an unusual croaky breathlessness) and turned to see one of the teachers from the school (small, grey; mane brown with a streak of white, cutie mark a book behind a lamp).

"Oh! Hello, Mr. Bookbright."

"Ehehe," he half-croaked half-laughed; "It's been a while since magic kindergarden; please, my dear, call me Bookbright."

"Oh! Yes, sir-" - she smiled, mentally correcting herself; "I mean: yes. Bookbright."

"Eheh, just so. Just so. I was very impressed with that display this morning. With the apples, I mean."

One of the other teachers from Celestia's school had thought to test Twilight's abilities that morning: she had hidden three dozen apples in the southern side of the encampment, challenged Twilight to remove the pips from all of them. Not only had Twilight succeeded, but afterwards she was able to point out where each of the apples was hidden.

"Thanks." She said, nodding.

"So, eh- ehem, so what are you doing standing around here?"

"Well, Spike's out looking for Moondancer - do you remember her?" - he nodded; "Well, she was always one of the more talented unicorns in class, so I'm surprised she's not here- oh, there's Spike! Spike ... SPIKE! Over here!"

"Ehehe, Moondancer; yes, I remember her. Lovely young lady. You won't find her here; special mission for princess Celestia, I believe."

"Really?" - Twilight noticed the hurt, jealous sound in her voice; coughed and tried to hide it: "What kind of mission?"

"Oh, something above my pay-grade, m'dear; I don't know the exact details, but it's something to do with the, eh - ehem, human space-ship; the big one. Oh, and here comes your dragon friend - hullo there, ehem, Spike!"

Spike slowed his pace slightly, raised a hand.

"Uh, hey, um..." - he looked to Twilight desperately.

"Oh, Spike, this is Mr. - ah, haha, sorry; this is Bookbright, one of the teachers from Celestia's school. He was just telling me that Moondancer is away on some kind of special mission for princess Celestia."

Spike scratched his head.

"Really..." - he crossed his arms, raised an eyebrow; "You know, it would have been nice to know that before I spent an hour trying to find her!"

"Spike!" - Twilight stamped her front-right hoof; "Don't be so rude! I'm sorry, Bookbright-"

"Oh, eheh; no problem, I suppose you must be tired after all your travelling, little dragon."

Spike thought for a second, looked at Twilight (who was glaring at him), sighed.

"Maybe you're right. Sorry for- uch!"

Twilight looked askance at him. Something about Spike clutching his throat prompted Bookbright.

"Eheh, yes that was the reason I had to come over to talk to you, Twilight Sparkle." - Spike fell to all fours, coughing green fire, but Bookbright somehow managed to stay oblivious; "I was told to inform you that you have been assigned to team one, concentrating on destroying the engines at the rear of the human flying ships, before moving on to..."

Twilight ignored the old pony's talk, inched cautiously towards Spike; he coughed more green fire - smoke was everywhere, circling them. Several unicorns had turned to look at them.

"Spike, are you-" - the dragon coughed one final time, and all the smoke swirled together to form a large cutting of tree bark. There was scratchy writing in charcoal on the inside curve; it was like a scruffier version of princess Celestia's elaborate cursive. Grumbling and holding his belly, Spike got up off the ground and brushed himself off. Twilight levitated the bark in front of her, the better to read it.

"What," asked Bookbright; "is that?"

Twilight glanced at him, smiled.

"It's a letter from princess Luna. Let's see...
To my student, Twilight Sparkle;
You know, this is the first letter I've written in a thousand years? I'm so out of practice, sorry for the scruffy writing. I also apologise to Spike for having to pass such a large message, but there isn't much paper available in the Everfree forest (as I believe it's called now - I remember it as the Princess forest).
I shall be returning to the encampment by tonight. My business here was more successful than I anticipated, so I shall be bringing a few friends along - make sure that all my little ponies know this, so they won't be panicked. Look to the air, and to the west. I'll see you soon.
Princess Luna."

Grimmus looked around at the strange creatures filling the white hall; all different colours, and smaller than this one. His forearms were tied together with a soft but strong rope; his legs were tied together above the knee. He was on his knees. A while ago - when he was being tied up - his mouth had returned to normal; but he didn't want to speak out: I'll need any information I can gather...

Celestia flared her wings and looked around the room. Everyone was completely silent. She took a step forward, folded her wings, and began to speak.

"Hello, everyone. You all know the situation. I have just returned from the human space-ship, where I have tried to make peace. I was ... not successful. You may have noticed that I have their leader," she nodded to Grimmus and a thousand pairs of eyes shifted to look at him (he saw a mixture of expressions in the crowd - nervousness, curiosity, bravado - but only a handful of fearful gazes; bravery, or ignorance?); "But that will not stop them for long. I am sorry..."

Celestia closed her eyes, cleared her throat. Grimmus looked at her out of the corner of his eye; she looks worried, he thought. His upper lip curled into a snarl; she should be terrified. Alien bitch, I'll give you a death stretching over months for that stunt on the ship! Celestia breathed out once through her nose, continued with the speech.

"It has been so long since we have had a war." - she opened her eyes, looking around at the assembled pegasi and griffons; Rainbow Dash instinctively held her head a little higher as Celestia's gaze passed over her; "So long that only a few of you will have studied any detail. Many of you might hesitate in doing what must be done, so I will have to make this clear: these humans are here to kill us all. They have been abused and lied to all their lives by leaders like our guest here, and now they believe that they have to kill us - all of us! Sisters, brothers, parents, friends: all gone, murdered and burned to ashes and blown away."

Celestia paused to let her words sink in. Rainbow Dash thought of her friends back in Ponyville and images flashed though her mind: Pinkie Pie lying in a red puddle, her face obscured by shadow; the trees of Sweetapple Acres ablaze, Applejack's hat caught on a branch; yellow feathers scattered around the entrance of a burned-out husk of the Carousel boutique; flies buzzing around rubble, a purple hoof just visible. She shuddered, glanced at Spitfire; the Wonderbolt's jaw was set, her face as a mask of determination. Rainbow Dash looked at Gilda; the griffon was staring right at her, the flicker of fear Rainbow Dash had recognised earlier now a mask of terror. Their eyes locked; Rainbow Dash smiled faintly.

Ignorance, then, thought Grimmus with more than a little satisfaction; These abominations have no martial tradition! No memory of war, no sustaining hatred ... maybe I can use this to my advantage...

"I wish I could tell you that they are simply monsters, that they live only to kill, but the truth is so much worse than that. The truth is that they think and they feel, just as we do; they have friends and family, just as we do. But from birth they have been taught to hate; their whole society is built around crushing brutality, and so they think that they have to kill us. You should pity them, oh yes - but you must not hesitate! You will have to kill before this is over, and it will be natural to hesitate - but to do so will mean death! For you, for your team-mates, for the world! I wish I did not have to ask this of you - war is a horrible thing: but remember that they have brought war to-"

"Liar!" - it was Grimmus, his shout designed for equal parts desperation and frustration; "We are here on a peaceful mission of contact, but you abducted me! Return me to my ship and we'll leave at once!"

Celestia laughed mirthlessly, glared at Grimmus (he reciprocated).

"You really are an insidious little man, aren't you Inquisitor?" - she looked out at the crowd again: one or two were looking doubtful, but the vast bulk of the crowd were clearly on her side - "You see what I mean, when I say that they are led by liars? Do not listen to him. His army will be here soon; he is just trying to distract you, hoping to make you hesitate when the time comes-"

"They will come looking for me, but there will be no invasion! Please, bring me back to my ship before there is any-" - with a flash of light he disappeared. Celestia snorted. There was a low murmur from the crowd.

"Maybe..." - Gilda spoke, almost under her breath; "...what if he's telling the truth?"

Rainbow Dash looked at Gilda, shocked. "What? C'mon, G, this is princess Celestia you're talking about!"

"But what if she's wrong?"

"She wouldn't make a mistake like that!"

"But what if she did make a mistake, Rainbow Dash?"

"What- but- I-"

"Ah, Gilda?" - it was Spitfire - "If the princess is wrong, then we'll lose a couple of days. But if that human is lying ... I mean, you heard what the princess said, right? And what's more likely - that the princess made that up, or that this human's trying to spread discord?"

"...so, ya see, we'd put the apple baskets on the line, 'n' they'd get pulled along to the barn'n it'd be much more, uh ... e-fish-ant!"

"...hmm..."

"So - what do you think?"

"Expensive."

"Yeah, that's what Applejack said - but it'd save us money, in the long run!"

"The princess wants all these apples on the road by tomorrow morning, so we don't have the time right now to build anything like that."

"But - maybe later!?"

"Mm. I'll tell you hwut. When we've got this shipment out, you draw up some plans'n then I'll talk it over with AJ and Granny Smith."

"Oh - gee, thanks Big Macintosh!"

"No promises, now. Now take that-" - Big Macintosh squinted at something in the air to the west, coming from the Everfree forest; "What in tarnation..?"

Apple Bloom turned to see what her big brother was looking at: huge things, each bigger than a house, and heading rapidly towards them. She tried to count them in the sky, and to make out some detail; but it was hard when they were moving so fast. In a few seconds they were overhead, casting building-sized shadows over the orchards of Sweetapple Acres, heading in the direction of Ponyville.

"Well. Um. What did Rainbow Dash tell you to do?"

"Oh she was getting me to jump - here, I'll show you!"

Scootaloo crouched down, tension building in her legs, then jumped up as high as she could; flapping her little wings as hard as possible, she hovered in place for nearly a second before tilting off balance and falling flat on her back. Scootaloo was back on her hooves in no time, dusting herself off and looking expectantly at Fluttershy.

"Oh. And ... how many times have you tried that?"

"Um ... I- I don't know, I lost count at around sixty..."

"I see." - Fluttershy turned and started walking to the town square again, Scootaloo trotting to keep up; "Well, how about we try something different-"

"But! I'm getting better at it, and Rainbow Dash said I should keep practising!"

"Scootaloo, you may not believe this, but when I was your age I wasn't a very confident flyer. Now, that meant that I got taught all sorts of exercises and little tricks ... I, uh ... I think you should try something different."

"Well, gee, I dunno; I mean, Rainbow Dash said-"

"I'm sure she did, but she also asked me to help you out while she was away. I, um - I really think you'll enjoy what I have in mind."

"Well, I guess..." - she smiled suddenly, looked up at Fluttershy; "What've ya got in mind!?"

"It's this way..."

As the pair walked through the gap between two houses, they could hear a beautiful young voice spilling out from the town square. They started walking a little faster - Fluttershy with her eyes closed, following the sound; Scootaloo's eyes held wide open with recognition.

"Hush now, dry your eyes,
It's not so bad, it's not so bad.
Hush now, it's all okay,
Oh don't be shy, oh-"

"Sweetie Belle!" - Scootaloo broke into a gallop, raced towards her friend. Fluttershy opened her eyes, took off from the ground and glided after.

Sweetie Belle blinked twice, smiled.

"Hi, Scootaloo!"

Scootaloo came to a stop about a foot from Sweetie Belle, little wings flared open (Rarity suppressed a scowl; well, there goes the rest of the day, she thought).

"Your singing - that was amazing!"

"Oh! Thanks. I'm practising for the school recital. Hello, Fluttershy."

Fluttershy came to a graceful landing.

"Hello, Sweetie Belle. Hello, Rarity."

Rarity took a step forwards

"Good afternoon, Fluttershy; I take it you're here with my sister's friend?"

Fluttershy raised her front-right hoof, nodded.

"Yes. Rainbow Dash asked me to fill in for her with Scootaloo's flying lessons and - well, we're going to use that ramp..." - she pointed to a recently-constructed wooden ramp on the other side of the town square, which was in front of a large sand-pit; then she lowered her head down to the little fillies' level: "...but when we heard your singing, I think we both had to come over and congratulate you on such a beautif-"

"Hey, Scootaloo, is that true? Are you gonna jump off that ramp!? Can I watch?" - she turned to Rarity; "Hey, sis, can I take a break to watch Scootaloo?"

Rarity didn't answer; she was staring at the sky, mouth wide open. The others followed the line of her gaze: Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle sat down, amazed at what they could see; Fluttershy began to shiver, sunk low to the ground. Other ponies in the town square began to notice; a few screams rang out as the large shadows played over houses.

With princess Luna at their head, a dozen dragons were heading east.

Invisible Pink Unicorn

Colonel-custodian Mangum took a glance up at the arched ceiling of the corridor, shook his head and kept walking. The height of the butressed, ornate ceiling (as intricately designed as anything Mangum could remember from Akarak) made him feel very small, so he tried to ignore it. To his right was major Garald; to his left custodian Faral Mangum, the colonel's cousin and aide-de-camp.

The three of them had met the admiral the day after the regiment embarked on the ship, and had met him five times over the month-and-a-quarter they had been aboard. Colonel Mangum had an austere upbringing; he held self-discipline to be (second to obedience to the Imperium, of course) the most important virtue, and so found the fat, smelly admiral both disgusting and morally abhorrant.

They were nearly at the command centre now, walking past the engraved mural of - so far as colonel Mangum could tell - angels fighting some kind of goblins. He didn't doubt that it had some symbolic meaning, but he didn't care for such things; and even if he did, it would rankle him to have to ask admiral Kil-ban-Ocean for an explaination.

At first the naval guards had been somewhat wary of Mangum, but by now they fixed him with a stare that was not quite contemptuous, but certainly not respectful. Those at the door (four today; it's usually two ... the fat man's probably nervous that the xeno scum will attack again...) at least had the manners to salute him, even if they did so far slower than he'd allow any man under his command to get away with. One of the midshipmen (a child of thirteen; while the uniform he was wearing was scrupulously tidy, it was also just slightly too big for him) stepped forwards and gave a quick salute.

"Colonel, admiral Kil-ban-Ocean awaits you and your staff in his void-cabin. Please follow me."

The boy turned sharply, and the great doors to the command chamber began to swing open. As the three officers followed him, major Garald whispered into his ear:

"They really like their theatrics, don't they?"

Mangum nodded, glanced over his shoulder at his cousin, whose moth was open slightly.

The admiral's void-cabin was towards the front of the command chamber; to get to it, they had to walk the length of the room. It taller than a cathedral hall - it rivalled even the reception hall in the Lord Governer's palace, which Mangum had visited to recieve his commission as colonel of his regiment. He felt even smaller than before, but pushed that emotion away. He could hear his cousin's footsteps faltering, no doubt the idiot's impressed by all this...

The command chamber was tall, but fairly narrow: it only took them two minutes to reach the admiral's void-cabin. They waited for the midshipman to enter and announce them to the admiral; the boy came out a few seconds later and held the door open for them.

The admiral's void-cabin was almost spartan compared to his regular suite: it was a single room, with a relatively plain (but still quite ornate) table and three chairs; a sink and mirror (framed with an elaborate gold frame, inset with many skulls and topped with the double-headed Imperial Aquila) by the wall; on the far side was a deep red curtain, trimmed with gold, obscuring his bed.

Admiral Kil-ban-Ocean was sitting behind the table, the top button of his uniform undone, collar pressed down to cover a recent food stain. Disgusting, thought colonel Mangum; he glanced down at the tabletop - the baroque, carved dark wood around the edge of the table belied the archaeotech holo-display, projecting a miniature topography of the world below. Kil-ban-Ocean gestured to the two empty chairs in front of him.

"Colonel, major, please sit. Regalis, be a dear and fetch a chair for the colonel's aide."

The door slid shut; the midshipman scurried off. Mangum sat down, Garald gingerly followed suit; Faral crossed his arms. The colonel looked at Kil-ban-Ocean expectantly; the Admiral began to speak.

"Now, colonel, we need to decide when and where to attack - and, indeed, if we should attack-"

"If!? With all due respect, admiral, we must attack, and right away!"

"Oh? You yourself encountered the creature that attacked my ship. By my evaluation, and that of my mental-savants and all the measuring instruments under my control, it seems to be as powerful as it claimed."

"That-" - Mangum sputtered, his fists clenched in rage; "are you afraid of this alien vermin!?" - he stood up, the high-backed chair falling backwards in a crash. Major Garald was vibrating with anger; Faral was looking, puzzled, at something behind the admiral.

"I took an oath when I took command of my regiment: by the Emperor, to fight all threats to Mankind and the Imperium, no matter how mighty they might seem!"

Kil-ban-Ocean was not intimidated or impressed by the colonel's outburst; if anything he found it amusing. Cute, even. He replied calmly:

"As an admiral of the Imperial Navy it is my duty to evaluate the facts before committing a warship of this value to battle. And the fact is that the alien vermin could crush this ship like an insect-"

Mangum howled, slammed both his fists down on the table.

"The Inquisitor ordered us to attack!"

"The Inquisitor is not here."

"We have a duty-"

"Do not-" - the admiral sat forward; "-think to lecture me on duty, you jumped-up prison warden. Listen! To. Me. As I was going to say before your outburst, I have evaluated all of the facts, and I have determined that we must attack - but not now. Not piecemeal, as the Inquisitor insisted on. We must wait a week for the rest of the forces to arrive-"

"We cannot wait that long. The algae vats that feed my regiment have been completely polluted by some kind of poison. The emergency rations we have will last at most two days."

"Ah- uh, Admiral?" - it was Faral; "Is there anybody else in this room, apart from us? I swear I saw something-"

"Faral!" the colonel shouted; "Shut up. Well, admiral, do you agree that we have to attack? Unless you can feed my three thousand men-"

"Yes, yes," the admiral waved an arm dismissively, sat back in his chair; "Or rather, no. I simply haven't got the resources."

"Very well," he sighed; "Since the when has been decided for us, we shall have to concentrate on where to attack. You can see here a holographical map of the alien world. One of my mental-savants has marked the areas that he intuits are important cities..."

Moondancer stayed as still as she could. This was not easy: the smooth metal of the floor was unnerving underhoof, made it hard to keep balanced. She slowed her breathing, trying to stay quiet, concentrating on the human soldiers in front of her and on maintaining the invisibility spell.

Unit 14c were lined up with the rest of block 14 in the armoury. The regimental quartermaster and his two assistants were standing behind a long metal desk, giving out the necessary kit as the prisoner-soldiers shuffled past. A buzz had been growing all day: excitement that they were finally to be allowed off-ship, tinged with fear. With her highly-public appearances throughout the ship, there had been no use in trying to hide the alien's incursion. There was a strictly-enforced eyes-forward rule, intended to reduce conversation between prisoners, but the armoury was not silent.

Keeping his head as still as possible, moving only his eyes, Madrin glanced around the room. Larek Dag, standing in the line just behind him, had been whispering to him for nearly half an hour; and Madrin was worried that custodian Khofi (or one of his assistants) would notice and punish the whole unit.

"I tell you what, Madrin, this whole situation - I mean, at first I thought 'oh shit, Larek, this is another fine mess you've gotten yourself into', but the way I see it, this whole thing's an oppertunity, right?"

Dag paused for a moment, as if waiting for a reply. Madrin cursed silently - he knew where this was going, everyone in unit 14c had heard Dag's heretical ramblings. He studied the far wall as best as he could, trying to ignore Dag. The wall was covered in propoganda but, along with two-thirds of the regiment, Madrin could not read the messages. He liked the pictures though: a giant-sized strong-jawed clean-cut guardsman in a uniform he barely recognised saluting the room; a boot stamping on the face of some ugly green alien; a row of guardsmen, much healthier-looking than anyone in the 9th Akarak, standing strong against a wave of hulking, misformed aliens holding sticks. But...

What's that..? - some of the posters were slightly blurred, as if there was slightly-imperfect glass in the middle of the room. Despite himself, Madrin turned his head a little: there was definitely something there, only ten feet from where he was standing.

"...I mean, shit, if they turn out to be good, there's no reason we couldn't keep some around, ya know? Just for f-"

"Do you see that?" - Madrin nodded at the blur. Dag turned his head slightly.

"See what?"

"That ... blur, in the middle of the room."

"I-" - Dag fell silent. Footsteps echoing on the metal floor, approaching Madrin: he looked straight ahead, his mouth dry. Custodian Khofi took a step in front of him, smiled his humourless, sadistic smile.

"Were you saying something, 14c09?"

"Cuh- custodian, I thought I saw something-"

"Oh really," sneered Khofi; "and what did you think you saw, Madrin?"

Madrin looked at the custodian, then turned his head slightly. It's still there-

Moondancer had never felt so scared in her life as the moment when that guardsman looked her right in the eye (she looked down quickly to check that she was still invisible) and pointed at her. The man standing next to him - the custodian, she reminded herself - first looked like he was going to laugh. But then his face dropped, he drew his pistol and pushed through the line, striding towards her.

She took a step backwards, and her the sound her hoof made startled her out of her invisibility. The custodian shouted wordlessly, the entire room turned to look at her: the custodian raised his pistol and fired at Moondancer.

It was not a well-aimed shot, but it grazed the top of her leg and produced an explosion of pain. Moonadancer felt her leg go weak, fell down; she could feel blood seeping from the wound. Her first instinct was to work some healing magic, but she could see the custodian levelling his pistol to deliver the coup-de-grace. Only one thing for it...

The wounded little unicorn was enveloped in a ball of pink light, and then disappeared.

Since the alien creature's intervention, things had been more pleasant for Dutal. He still had his floor-scrubbing duties, but Travis was ... not nice, exactly, but less actively beligerent. When the chief petty officer came around on his regular inspections, he normally found some imaginary fault with Dutal's work, and used it as an excuse to berate and belittle and beat Dutal. But not today. Today he had been left in peace to get on with his work, with Travis only making a token appearance when he had to. Dutal was sure that Travis was being careful with the other men under his command, wary of intervention.

There was a quiet fizzing pop noise from behind Dutal. He turned his head, then his whole body, to see the pink little unicorn slumped on the floor, bleeding onto the deck. She looked up at him, scared. He raised his hands to show he had no weapon.

"I- It's- It's oh- okay, I'm a ... friend."

She nodded, winced, looked to her leg. Her horn emitting a pink light, a similar shade to her skin and hair. Dutal watched, fascinated, as the skin either side of the nasty gash on the side of the unicorn's leg pulled together and fused into one. He touched his cheek absently; that is what it must have looked like...

She turned her head to face him; there was a sleepy look in her eye. There was a lot of blood pooled around her.

"H-help ... I need somewhere to rest."

Dutal's mouth opened and shut a few times, and he nodded slightly, as he tried to think of somewhere. If Travis sees all this blood... - it needed to be somewhere close by, to let him get back in time for the chief petty officer's inspection.

"Can you walk?"

Moondancer struggled to stand, the deck slippery with blood, took a hesitating step towards Dutal - and nearly fell over. He rushed in and grabbed her round the neck, steadying her. Glancing down, he could see a red smear across the front of his ragged, tea-coloured clothing.

"W- where are we going?"

"To the gun deck. There are plenty of places for you to hide for a while, and it's close by ... this way..."

The plans were set. The admiral had given the order for the landing craft to be prepared: they were currently being towed into place in the launch bay by galley-slave-gangs pulling long chains, the automated system having been destroyed in the ship's famous attack on Gaudius V.

The admiral was standing by the door to his void-cabin, and the three Akarak officers were about to be on their way to co-ordinate the regiment's disembarkation, when a naval rating

"So, what - we're overrun with these things?" - Mangum

"I- I don't know, sir, we've only spotted one - and that was shot by custodian Khofi-"

Mangum turned to the admiral.

"Well, what are we going to do about this!?"

"We? Well, you are going to lead your men down to the planet, as we have decided."

"But, surely you'll want to use my men to search for-"

"Colonel, I have no desire to see your ... men disrupting the operation of my ship. I have my own security people, who are a great deal better trained and disciplined than your little gang of rapists."

Faral: "Sirs!"

Mangum: "Oh what is it, Faral!?"

"I- I think I saw something back there, in the admiral's office. Sort of a ... shimmer."

The colour drained from Mangum's face. Kil-ban-Ocean brought his hand to his face, a disbelieving look on his face. It was major Garald who first managed to speak.

"By the Emperor ... if one of those things was in there, it would know all of our plans!"

Colonel Mangum drew his pistol, pushed the admiral aside, strode back into the void-cabin. He screamed wordlessly, and fired two dozen wild shots in rapid succession: large chunks flew out of the sturdy table; the chairs closest to him were destroyed utterly; the sink shattered and the mirror's glass boiled away; the curtains separating the bed from the front section burst into flame from the heat. But there was no yell of pain, no quadrapedal alien corpse.

"Stop him!" - one of the admiral's guards hit Mangum on the arm, touching a nerve and forcing him to drop his laspistol; two others takled him to the ground.

"What are you-" - Mangum struggled to get up, but one of the guards got his arm pinned up behind his back and pushed his knee onto Mangum's head.

"Hey!" shouted Garald, pulling out his laspistol (Faral Mangum following suit a second later) and pointed it at the guards: "Let him go!"

One of the guards looked to admiral Kil-ban-Ocean, who nodded a confirmation. "Let him up," he said cooly; then, to Garald: "Put your gun away, or I shall have you shot."

One of the guards offered his hand to help Mangum up; the colonel ignored him and angrily struggled to his feet. Another guard picked up Mangum's gun, looked to Kil-ban-Ocean; the admiral glared at Mangum's subordinates until they holstered their pistols, then turned his gaze on Mangum.

"Colonel, what the hell do you think you are doing!?"

"I'm... if one of those xeno scum was there, listening to our meeting, then they must know our plans!"

"And for that, you destroy my void-cabin? I have my guards armed with autoguns rather than las weaponry for a reason! The holo-matrix in that table was worth a dozen of your shit-stained prison regiments!"

"But- if they have our plans, it changes everything-"

"It changes nothing, except that we need to act now, before they have time to react. Guard, give colonel Mangum back his pistol. Colonel, get your 'soldiers' into the landing craft within the hour. And somebody put out that fire!"

Rainbow Crash

Grimmus blinked a few times, but the white dot floating in front of his eyes wouldn't disappear. He shook his head, looked around: the room he was in was dark (not the cavern-black darkness of an Inquisitorial holding cell - he could just about make out details by a dim light filtering in under the door) and plain. There was a raised platform to his left and a toilet and sink attached to the wall to his right; in front of him was a large door.

He twisted his hands around a few times for the sake of blood circulation: the rope was still tight. I could chew through it... - his teeth had been replaced twenty years ago with ceramite dentures. He looked around again, then nodded to himself.

"Hey!" he shouted, doing his best to sound terrified and desperate; "Help! Hey, anyone!"

He listened for a reply, but there was no sound. He closed his eyes and concentrated, activating his aural enhancements: there, in the distance he could hear a clip-clop sound getting closer.

"Hey! Anyone, please, I really," he sobbed; "-h-help, p-please-"

The clip-clop sound was moving slightly faster now. Grimmus suppressed a smile: amateurs. A high-value suspect of the Inquisition could be left for days in the cold and the dark. He thought about the best course of action: once he was untied, he could kill the guard and escape to... where? Alone in some prison, somewhere on a world full of hostile xenos without any means of escape, he'd not last long.

He remembered the curious, unafraid faces. Soft faces. Soft eyes: and that had been some kind of military rally. The clip-clop sound stopped, just outside the door. A hatch slid open on the door, letting in some more of the weak light. A beam of light shot in (an electric torch?), dazzling Grimmus. He squinted and cowered.

"H-hey you there, p-please- help me-"

The light disappeared. There was a scraping sound of bolts being pulled back, then the door swung outwards to reveal one of the aliens - a large one, grey, and without a horn. It was wearing a bronze helmet and armour; in the low light Grimmus couldn't quite tell if it had wings or not.

"What are you-" it's voice had the quality of a human male; "how did you get down here!?"

Grimmus raised his arms slightly, as if shielding himself. He made his body tremble.

"I- I don't know, I was on my- on my ship, and then one of you- p-please don't hurt me, I..."

His body shook with a sob. He was not sure (one never can be with aliens), but Grimmus thought that the xeno's body language indicated empathy. It stepped forwards, and again. Grimmus flinched visibly.

"Don't be scared," it spoke, softly; "I won't hurt you. Where are you from? You mentioned a ship - are you a sailor, from a foreign country?"

Grimmus looked up into the creature's eyes: it was only three feet away. The eyes were so large, and concerned, and friendly. Shifting backwards, feigning fear, he composed a story in his head.

"...okay, you're scared," the alien sat down on its back legs; "but at least tell me your name. I'm Prison Gates."

"I ... I am Grimmus Darkium, of the Inquisition. My ship, it's ... up there," he gestured up to the sky, "in space. I'm from another world."

Prison Gates nodded slowly. Grimmus let a little confidence into his voice, as if he was reciting rote-learned prose.

"The Inquisition, we seek out new worlds. New life and civilizations - we meet in peace, in the name of the Emperor."

"Emperor?"

"Oh, he's a great man. A visionary. He united so many worlds in common purpose," Grimmus thought back to what his kidnapper had said; "In the cause of friendship."

"Ah. Like princess Celestia."

Is that her name?

"Is that your leader?"

"Yes. She makes the sun rise every morning and rules over us. Along with her sister-"

"Is she ... big? White, with a horn and wings..?"

Prison Gates nodded enthusiastically, smiled.

"Yes, that's her!"

"She- attacked me, on my ship. She kidnapped me and put me here."

The pony's brow furrowed.

"Well, I'm sure she had a good reason-"

"There is no reason! And if I can't get back to my ship, my people will come looking for me. Prison Gates, she could start a war!"

Lieutenant Sal Del-ban-Barley took another drag of his cigarette and looked down at the shuffling mass of people making their way onto his transport. As he blew a smoke-ring he heard the clanging of his co-pilot walking up behind him.

"Those'll kill you one day, you know."

Sal waved away the words, spreading thin smoke overhead.

"Emperor willing!" he chuckled; "I'd rather these things kill me than some xeno filth."

His co-pilot snorted.

"I'm going to double-check the instruments before launch."

Sal ignored him, looking down at the pinched, hungry faces lined up around the room. He'd seen Cadians and Mordians and soldiers from dozens of worlds: but regiments like this, prisoner-regiments, were the worst. He could smell the fear and barely-repressed desire roiling off of them.

The Blessed Communications Device attached to his belt crackled into life.

"Kfft- hello? Is there anyone there?"

Sal flicked his cigarette away, down to the slow-moving mass of humanity below, and grabbed the radio-transmitter.

"This is Liuetenant Del-ban-Barley."

"This is commander Kat-ban-Ocean. How is progress going at launch bay secundus?"

"The Valkyries are mostly filled up. The landing ship should be ready within half an hour."

The landing-craft were huge: easily as big as Ponyville's town hall (maybe even bigger? - it was hard to tell from the distance), and obviously dangerous; covered in gun-turrets. There were five of those that Rainbow Dash could see, plus some other, smaller machines.

"Rainbow Dash!" - she recognised the voice as Spitfire's; "Come on, stick to the plan!"

She steeled herself, tore a chunk off of the cloud she had been clinging to/hiding behind, and started flying upwards to meet the Imperial craft. Glancing quickly around, she could see dozens of ponies and griffons; the first wave. Most were carrying clouds; some carried blankets treated with tree-sap. There were so many of them - how could it go wrong?

Then she looked ahead again, and saw the behemothic flying-machines bearing down on her. Rainbow Dash almost stopped where she was; but then she remembered Spitfire's words: keep moving, don't stay in front of their guns. She dropped her cloud right in front of the oncoming craft and kept on flying; there was a warmth in the air just behind her, and a sizzling sound. Rainbow Dash curved around (slowing no more than she had to) so that she was flying towards and above them.

Th guns were firing out at all the ponies; there was a sinking feeling in her stomach as she saw a dozen points of fire falling from the sky. She glanced left and right: everypony in her team, the first of the first wave, had made it through. Spitfire waved to her, and then exploded into a cloud of pink vapour.

"NO!" shouted Rainbow Dash; another pony's head exploded into a fountain of gore. A beam of red light, a pillar of heat, appeared just above Rainbow Dash's head. She could feel the hair of her mane sizzling, but there was no real damage done. Tears already building up in her eyes, she screamed, dipped down low, and then flew in a loose arc towards the Imperial craft - one of the little ones, that had escaped the blinding attentions of the first wave.

Something scraped her right foreleg; she could feel the cut, but didn't care. She built up as much speed as she could and smashed into the bottom of the thing.

She forced herself to stay level with it, scrambled along and found something to cling on to. The guns on this craft were all facing forwards: one on each wing and one on the nose. She had caused a dent where she had impacted; she pounded at the metal with her hoof a few times before realising that this was having very little effect.

Someone else hit the craft, behind Rainbow Dash, causing it to shake, nearly causing her to come loose and fall off. She shuddered, her bowels shifting like jelly. Slowly, she turned her head. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the second (or third?) wave - there were a few little points of fire visible, falling out of the sky.

"Hey, Rainbow Dash!" - the voice was familiar. Gilda. But the face looking at her was caked with blood.

"G-gilda, are you- are you alright!?"

"What? Oh-" she reached up with one of her talons (Rainbow Dash glanced down briefly and saw that the claws were dug into the metal) and brushed off a piece of gore, flinging it into the air; "Don't worry, it's not mine!"

The plane shook from side to side, and one of the guns fired in a rattle as loud as anything Rainbow Dash had ever heard; she flinched and lost her grip, started tumbling backwards, but Gilda caught her and pulled her in.

The griffon smelled foul - smelled of blood. Rainbow Dash's face was shoved right into Gilda's neck, and the stench was overpowering, and she could feel vomit working its way up her gullet, and then she threw up over her friend.

"Oh, Dash, that's just gross..."

"Sorry, G..."

Gilda swung around and pinned Rainbow Dash to the side of the craft.

"We've gotta take this thing out-"

"What? But, G, these things are made of metal, how-"

Gilda smiled (a terrifying sight with her features picked out in red).

"Oh, but they have glass canopies. Are you okay now?"

Rainbow Dash squirmed around, balanced and braced herself against the bulkhead. She nodded.

"Let's roll."

Twilight looked down the row of unicorns. Most of them were standing to attention with determined looks on their faces, and she tried to copy that. She turned her attention to the sky, gulped - any moment now...

With no warning, there was a blinding white light - it was as if the sun had appeared on the ground. In a sense, it had - princess Celestia and two dozen pegasi appeared. Several of them were injured - one had a whole wing burned off, though the little blackened stump that remained was moving jerkily, by reflex. Twilight's eyes widened as she saw that Celestia herself was hurt - there was blood on the princess' front hooves and horn - and she rushed forwards to help.

"Princess! Are you alright!?"

The other unicorns followed Twilight's example; they galloped to the wounded and started healing with their magic. Celestia looked disoriented; she blinked a few times before answering.

"Twilight. Yes, I'm fine - where is my sister?"

"You don't look fine - how's it going up there?"

"It-" Celestia hesitated; "It's going better than I expected-"

"BUT IS IT GOING AS WE HAD HOPED?"

Twilight turned around; Luna landed softy on the ground. A look passed between the princesses that Twilight couldn't decipher. Luna lowered her head slightly. Celestia spoke:

"Is the final wave ready?"

"Yes, sister. We only await thy presence."

"Then let's do this-"

"Princess!" pleaded Twilight; "You're covered in blood!"

Celestia glanced at her student and breathed out through her nose.

"And yet I am not injured."

After a few seconds, Twilight nodded, understanding.

"You healed yourself?"

"Y-" the princess stopped in her tracks and turned around to look at Twilight, studying the unicorn's face for a second; "Sometimes I forget how young you are. No. It is not my blood. You must have read books about war, Twilight Sparkle."

Twilight took a step backwards.

"Y- you mean-"

"Yes."

"My sister, time is of the essence."

Celestia nodded and turned away from Twilight.

"Get in position. Things are about to get..."

She opened up her wings and started flying. With a force of projection from over a thousand years of rule, she called out:

"EVERYPONY, PREPARE YOURSELVES."

Lieutenant Del-ban-Barley sat back in his seat. He couldn't see a thing.

"Well, this is new."

He reached into a pocket to fish out a cigarette; his co-pilot waited until he had it to his lips and was about to light it up before objecting:

"That's against regulations, Sal."

Del-ban-Barley fixed his co-pilot with a venomous look for a few seconds before continuing to light up.

"How about you keep your eyes on the instruments, Rikyard. Wouldn't want us crashing into any mountains."

"Please don't joke about that..."

This earned a raised eyebrow from Del-ban-Barley.

"Are you scared? On a lactase-run like this?"

"We've lost visuals, Sal."

The pilot shrugged. He looked to the front of the cockpit, coated as it was with blankets and... clouds? No, that's stupid, clouds aren't sticky, and mused to himself that this was, indeed, a unique situation. The communicator flickered into life.

"AAGH! EMPEROR PROTECT-" - and then white noise. Del-ban-Barley sat up.

"What was-"

"One of the Valkyries, I - oh, no, what-" the co-pilot slapped the side of the radar system; "Uh, Sal, there's ten - no, twenty... things, they just appeared. They don't read like fighters, they look... I don't know-"

"They're organic. Like on Caligulon V. By the Throne, they're coming-"

There was a sound of metal bending, and the landing craft shook to the side.

Rainbow Dash had blood on her hooves. Human blood. The look on his face flashed through her mind - no, can't think about that! She looked at Gilda, flying parallel - they'd known each other practically their whole lives, but Rainbow Dash had never seen the griffon so happy as she was now, with gore caking over her face.

It was scary.

A beam of red light passed over Rainbow Dash's head, burning some of the hair off of her mane; she dipped down and glanced behind her. It was another little one, almost identical to the one they had just destroyed.

"Gilda!"

"YEAH!?"

Rainbow Dash tilted her head to indicate what she was thinking about. Gilda's grin widened.

"Right! Let's-"

There was a loud, sharp crack and two giant spheres of light - one white, one dark purple - appeared in the middle of the sky; after a few moments they both faded to reveal a dozen dragons of various sizes and shapes. They hung in the air for a second, and then swarmed forwards. One of them - a red, sleek, huge and angry-looking monster, flew between the pegasus and the griffon and sent Rainbow Dash tumbling in its wake.

She managed to right herself and saw it grabbing the craft that had just fired on her; it tore off one of the wings, breathed red fire onto the remains, and then dropped it like a pebble. Then it changed direction and flew onto one of the three huge craft.

"That's pretty impressive," said Gilda, hovering next to Rainbow Dash.

"Yeah. Impressive."

"It looks like they're going after the big ones. Plenty left for us. Look! There's one!"

"Uh, Gilda, I think maybe we should go now..."

"What!?" Gilda flew around in front of Rainbow Dash; "You scared, Dash!?"

"No! I just-"

"Last one there's a gnarly dragon egg!" the griffon shouted as she sped off in a line straight to the human craft. Rainbow Dash hesitated for a second - there was nopony else in the sky, only dragons, so far as she could see - but I can't leave Gilda alone...

The pegasus bolted off after her friend. The sky was much clearer now - all the humans seemed to be shooting at the dragons. Gilda had already grabbed onto the front of the human craft, and was smashing away at its cockpit with her free talon. There was a loud sound from behind Rainbow Dash; she glanced backwards to see a pair of dragons holding a large landing craft upside-down; then she turned back and could not see Gilda.

She panicked; an image of Spitfire flashed through her mind; she shook her head. Another beam of light flashed above her head - as she swung away, Rainbow Dash could see that the cockpit was shattered - and the craft flew just under her. Rainbow Dash looked down, and could see in the distance, a flailing, falling brown-and-white figure - Gilda! She must have been hit!

Mustering all of her strength, Rainbow Dash dived - I can do this, I can do this! - she'd done it before, but that had been in a clear sky... she felt an ache in her overly-taxed muscles, but pushed through it; she could feel the air warming around her and forming a cone around her downward-pointed front hoof; the air pressure was pushing back against her, but she remembered Spitfire and her friends back in Ponyville, and found an extra reserve of energy...

Del-ban-Barley flicked on the internal communications system.

"All right, this is going to get bumpy, but we should be fine."

He flicked it off again, then ripped the reciever out of its socket - he needed to concentrate, no time for questions from a bunch of groundpounders.

He tried to ignore the gurgling sound of his dying co-pilot and concentrated on the view in front of him; with the glass from the cockpit mostly gone, he could see a lake. He glanced at the instruments in front of him: half the engines were out, and the remaining ones could go at any time.

Bumpy, he thought grimly, is one hell of an understatement.

He was still flying by wire, for the most part: the clouds and the smoke only parted occasionally. He turned the landing-craft (one more of the engines exploded from the strain) and started the descent. A dragon - a different one from before - started flying straight towards him. The readouts showed that all his weapons were destroyed, but he tried pulling triggers anyway - and one lascannon cut a gash across the beast's wing.

Del-ban-Barley smiled to himself.

There was a flash from below, and a multi-coloured explosion. All his dials and screens went wild and died.

He was flying blind.

In the Event of a Crash, the Toilet is the Safest Place on an Airplane

There was another loud bang from the sky; Applejack flinched, then trotted a little faster. She looked up: she could just about make out some shadowy objects, too large to be flying by wingpower, and they were moving too fast to be balloons. Over the morning she had seen some flashes on the horizon, and they had been getting closer; she had seen dragons and things that might have been pegasi.

She had also seen little points of fire falling to the ground, and she didn't want to think what they might be. Rainbow Dash, she thought, ah hope ye're okay ...

"Sis!" -- Apple Bloom's cry snapped Applejack's attention back to the ground. The filly was standing outside the barn, and from the way she had her left foreleg lifted and the slight tremble in her voice, Applejack could tell that something was wrong. Applejack increased her pace and called down the hill:

"You alright, Apple Bloom?"

"Ah am, but ... well, ah don't think she is."

Applejack slowed a little as the ground levelled out, careful not to tip the cart full of apples she was hauling.

"Who are ya talkin' about, sugarcube?"

"Well, Big Macintosh found a pegasus fallen outta the sky, and she's pretty hurt so he took her into the barn, and Granny told me to wait out here for you to get back."

Applejack came to a halt a few feet in front of her sister.

"Fallen from the sky? Apple Bloom, help me outta this harness, ah'll go an' have a look."

"Can I come in too?"

The little points of fire played across Applejack's mind, and her stomach lurched.

"No, Apple Bloom. You take this cart up to the house 'n' put the apples in the cellar, alright?"

"But Applejack, I wanna see-"

"Ah said no. Ah don't reckon this is something you should be seein'. Now, scoot!"

Apple Bloom opened and closed her mouth and then pouted, but Applejack ignored her and walked to the barn door. As soon as she was past the threshold a smell hit her. Something burned, badly.

Big Macintosh walked towards her, head held low. She could see a tear in his eye.

"Big brother, what's wrong? What's this ah hear about a pegasus you found? Is ... is she alright?"

He looked up at her and blinked; the tear in his eye rolled off his face and onto the ground.

"Nope," he said. Granny Smith was beside him now, and put a hoof on his shoulder.

"We did what we could," she said, "but it ... weren't enough."

Applejack walked past them, slowly. It's her, she thought; Oh, Celestia, let it be somepony else, not Rainbow Dash -- and then she felt a pang of guilt at wishing ill on some stranger. She had to see.

There was a blanket covering the body. The smell of burning -- of burning flesh -- was stronger here, almost overpowering. Applejack lifted one corner up and saw feathers charred black on a wing bent in the wrong direction; and the base of the feathers were green. She sighed and put the blanket down again, and then turned to leave the barn.

Just as she was leaving, there was another boom, louder than anything she had heard all day. The walls of the barn shook, and she looked up at the worn-out old roof warily. She went up to where Big Macintosh and Granny Smith were standing; they were both looking up.

"Ya'll alright?"

Big Macintosh glanced down at her, and then looked up again. Applejack turned around and saw a sight she had seen twice before: there was a multicoloured explosion in the sky. A sonic rainboom.

"Well now," muttered Granny Smith, "Ain't that a thing ..."

There was something else in the sky: a giant, ugly, wounded metal beast falling down and towards them. Applejack backed away a little, but it passed clean over them. The three of them turned around to watch it head on over their farm, until it dipped too low and was cut off by the tops of the trees.

They all stared into space for a few moments, until the sound of a crash to the east snapped them out of it.

"Ponyville," said Applejack. She started cantering off -- they've got to be okay, she thought; Ah've got to see that they're okay. -- and she called back to her brother and granny: "Ah'm just gonna -- ya'll check Apple Bloom's alright, ah'm gonna see what's what."

And then she broke into a gallop.

"Hold still, Sweetie Belle."

"But, sis, I-"

Rarity snorted and narrowed her eyes, focusing on the seam of the dress.

"If I am to complete this dress in time for your school recital, I need to concentrate, so please stay still. It's hard enough working with all that commotion in the sky."

"Gah! Rarity, don't you want to see what's going on?"

What is going on? Nothing good, thought Rarity, and she said:

"Never you mind about that, I'm sure the pegasi have it under control."

"But- OW!"

"Well I'm sorry, Sweetie Belle, but if you insist on distracting me when I'm working on this dress then you just might end up getting jabbed with the needle."

Sweetie Belle sighed and lowered her head.

"Fine."

Rarity continued in blessed silence -- punctuated by the occasional thunderclaps -- for a good five minutes, tentatively closing up seams and experimenting with different gemstones. Sweetie Belle was a good model when she wanted to be, and Rarity was just getting into the zone when the door slammed open behind her and an unmistakable high-pitched voice shouted:

"Rarity! Are you alright?!"

Rarity shuddered, placed the needle down on the floor, and breathed out through her nose. She turned to face the pink party pony and smiled.

"Pinkie Pie. Don't you have some cupcakes to bake?"

"Oh, no, no, no," she trilled, clip-clopping across the shop floor; "Well, I was trying to make some soufflés, but the sky's all like boom! Whoosh! -- and the soufflés all collapsed. And then my tail started a-twitchin' -- what're you doing, making a dress?"

"Well, this is a dress shop-"

"Yeah," said Sweetie Belle, "She's making me a dress for the school recital!"

"Oh wow," said Pinkie Pie, dancing around behind Rarity and looking the dress up and down; "It looks really good!"

"Well, thank you, Pinkie. I want it to be as beautiful as Sweetie's voice, and to do that I need to concentrate, so could you please come back later?"

Pinkie Pie stood there thinking for a few moments, and then said:

"Okie dokie!" -- and she started trotting off towards the door. Rarity smiled and levitated the needle once more; she was just about to continue with her work when Pinkie Pie piped up one last time:

"Oh! I almost forgot -- my tail's been a-twitchin' all day, so look out for stuff falling out of the sky. It's gonna be a real doozy. See ya!"

Rarity started again with the dress and bit her lip. Things falling from the sky? With everything that is happening up there?

"What do you think that was all about?"

"Hm? Oh, I'm sure it's just Pinkie Pie being herself. Don't ... don't worry about it."

Sweetie Belle sighed.

"Sis, I know what you're doing. You're trying to distract me, but I want to see what's going on!"

"Sweetie -- darling -- you just stand still. We're having fun, aren't we?"

Just as Sweetie Belle opened her mouth, there was another boom, louder than anything that morning. All the bits and bobs on the shelves rattled; Rarity could feel the vibration going through her bones. Before she knew what was happening, her little sister had jumped down off of the fitting podium and was trotting towards the door. Rarity gasped.

"Sweetie Belle, don't you-" -- but the filly was already at the door. Rarity burst into a brief gallop to catch her up; with her magic she grabbed the hem of the dress, but her sister was not moving. She was looking up at the sky.

Rarity tracked her gaze and saw a huge metal monster swooping down at them, spewing smoke and fire from its sides. It flew overhead, and she could feel heat bearing down on her, and she could hear a crack as it smashed through the very top of the Carousel Boutique. The two of them turned and watched as it glided over Ponyville; a few seconds later there was a loud crashing sound, and black smoke started spewing up into the sky.

"What was that?" said Sweetie Belle, and started walking towards the crash.

"No, Sweetie Belle. Stay here."

"But -- Rarity, I want to see what that was!"

"No! I absolutely forbid it! Sweetie Belle, it could be dangerous. I'll go and check if anypony is hurt, but I need you to promise to stay here."

Sweetie Belle looked at her sister for a few moments, judging whether she could push her luck, and then she looked at the ground.

"Okay."

"I need you to stay safe, and stay indoors, alright? I'll be back soon."

Sweetie Belle nodded sullenly and walked back indoors. Rarity used her magic to close the door and then looked to the pillar of smoke. This is crazy, she thought, and broke into a gallop.

Moondancer drifted back into consciousness. For a moment she wondered why she wasn't in her bed; then she remembered. Moondancer moved her leg experimentally -- it was fine, so far as she could tell. She looked up -- the room was very dark, and small, and smelled of an unhealthy mixture of chemicals. She lit up a very small light on the end of her horn and got up on all fours.

It was some kind of storage room. She was hidden behind a large rack holding multi-coloured metal cones; some kind of weapon..?

She let the light fade and sat down. She could send a message to the team leader, but that would risk exposing him. Not doing so would mean she would be on her own -- she had missed the meet-up, so he would have no idea where she was. Or if she was alive. She would have to improvise.

There was a quiet clatter from beyond the rack. Moondancer stood and looked; she could just about see a figure in the distance, a silhouette broken up by half a dozen intervening weapon-racks. And another, and another -- at least four humans were creeping up on her. Moondancer concentrated hard -- she felt light-headed and empty-stomached, but she still managed to cast the invisibility spell on herself.

"I tell you," came a male voice that Moondancer recognised but could not quite place, speaking in a hushed but excited tone; "She's here, and we've got to-"

"Are you sure about this, Dutal? If Travis finds us-"

"Or anyone! This is a bad idea, do you know what they'll do to us if-"

"Shh!"

A familiar face peered around the corner: it was the human who had helped Moondancer, who had hidden her when she was injured. What in Equestria is he doing? she thought, and nearly laughed because she wasn't on Equestria.

"M- my name is Dutal," he said, walking slowly towards her, looking from side to side; "Are you still here? I helped you, um."

Two more men came round the corner. Moondancer glanced around; this was a dead end, but if she dropped her invisibility she would be able to manage a teleport to the other side of the weapon rack -- and then what? She was too weak to run.

"I- I hope you don't mind, but I told these -- my ... we share a cabin, and I've never really talked to them before, but I told them about how your friend helped me, and how she made Travis be nicer to us, um. I hope that's okay. Are you there?"

Celestia, thought Moondancer; Oh, thank you, princess. She had an idea -- an inkling of a shadow of a plan -- and she committed before any niggling doubts could creep up on her. She dropped the invisibility spell and spoke.

"I'm here, Dutal. Thank you ... for helping me. I am glad that princess Celestia was able to help you. And hello to your friends."

Dutal mouthed the word "friend" a few times, as if it was new. He turned to his companions.

"Are we friends?"

The tallest one answered and took a little step forward.

"I guess ..."

Moondancer smiled; she couldn't have planned a better opening.

"I would ... like to be your friend, if that's alright. Please -- tell me about this Travis -- you say he was not being nice?"

The creaking-metal sound had ceased, and Madrin opened his eyes. How am Ii still alive? he thought, and moved his arm. His chest and neck hurt when he moved, but he didn't seem to be injured. Madrin fiddled with the straps around his chest for nearly a minute, trying not to panic.

Smoke was starting to fill the area; the man next to him coughed. Madrin looked and saw that Ginyard Salsot had coughed up blood. He managed to detach the safety belt and stood; he nearly fell over, but balanced himself against the seat in front of him. The man sitting in it didn't say anything; Madrin could see a deep gash cut into his neck.

Salsot was trying to undo his own belt, but his hands were moving clumsily. Madrin leaned down to him and did it for him; Salsot smiled, and stopped moving.

"Shit," said Madrin; just before he squeezed past, he remembered to grab his lasgun.

There was moaning emanating throughout the cabin; both from the injured passengers, and the more mechanical whine of the dying engines. The smoke was thickening by the minute; Madrin could see no more than a foot in front of him.

"Casari!" he called, looking from side to side -- seat to seat; "Vimel Casari!"

"Madrin-"

He stopped. The voice had come from his left.

"Are you there, Casari?"

"Yeah," came the reply, and Madrin could just about make out an arm waving up at him. He leaned down and saw his friend's smashed face. His seat belt was unclipped, but he was still sitting down.

"Are you hurt?"

Casari nodded and winced.

"My leg," he managed. Madrin hesitated for a moment -- he'll slow me down, he thought -- but then he leaned down and looped his arm around Casari's shoulders, and pulled him up.

They staggered slowly, trying not to breath in the foul, acrid smoke. Madrin could see a few other figures stumbling blindly around.

There was a hiss and a creak: a corridor of light shot through the smoke. Someone had opened a hatch.

Lieutenant Del-ban-Barley opened and closed his fists. How am I still alive? he though, and moved his toes. He could feel blood slick all over his face, and he could barely hear anything over the booming sound of his heartbeat echoing in his ears. His eyes and nose were stinging from the smoke that was streaming out of the landing-craft.

The floor beneath him had been ripped away during the crash-landing; the only thing holding him in place was his safety harness, and it was a fairly long drop to the ground. If he was careful and lucky, he might survive it.

He sighed: all the instruments of control were gone. He could not even open the hatches in the rear compartment. Poor bastards are probably going to choke on the fumes, he thought, and fished under his chair for the emergency landing kit. No such luck: it had been ripped away along with the floor.

Del-ban-Barley sighed again, shifted as best he could, and released the safety harness. He fumbled the landing and shouted:

"Emperor's teeth!" -- his ankle twisted around, and he became aware of the gash in his side. He stayer there, on his knees in the mud, for a few seconds; then he got to his feet and staggered over to a rock.

He sat facing the landing craft, wondering what to do next. The communications devices on the craft were beyond his ability to repair, he was sure, and with his emergency kit gone there was no way to get in contact with anyone. If victory came quickly, there would be a rescue effort mounted, but that was seemed unlikely given how the aerial battle had been going.

"Hey! You the fucking pilot?"

Del-ban-Barley looked to the side. Two men in shoddy uniforms were walking towards him, around the side of the landing-craft. He felt relieved and scared in equal parts. He stood up.

"Yes, I am-"

He felt the punch hit his gut before he saw the shorter of the two men move.

"You call that a landing, you fucking stupid cunt?" he said, and then headbutted the lieutenant, sending him sprawling on the floor.

"Shit," he gasped; "By the throne, stop!"

"What? You don't tell me what to do, you fucking piece of shit!" -- he emphasised his point by kicking Del-ban-Barley in the side.

"Fier," said the other man, "I think that's enough-"

"Oh fuck off, Larak! This bastard nearly fucking killed us!"

"Yeah, but -- listen, I think maybe he can help us, right?"

"You two!" -- it was another voice, one used to being obeyed. Del-ban-Barley sat up and looked -- it's one of those ... prison warden officers, he thought; Emperor's skull, why couldn't I have crashed with some Cadians instead of a fucking prison regiment?

"C- Custodian! We were just ... helping the pilot to his feet."

Del-ban-Barley could see more men -- maybe a dozen out of the hundred and fifty he had been transporting -- walking and shambling in his direction. He closed his eyes for a second, and then looked past the opposite side of the landing-craft.

A pair of xeno were standing at the top of a hill, watching them. One of them was wearing a hat.

The two men grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him to his feet. The custodian looked at him.

"Are you hurt?"

Del-ban-Barley blinked. The two men still had their hands on his shoulders. He shook his head.

"I'll live. But -- over there."

The custodian turned to look where Del-ban-Barley pointed.

"Oh, shit," he muttered, drew his laspistol, and fired.