The Prism of Infinity

by Jed R

Rating: mature
Tags: Adventure, Violence, Princess Celestia, Crossover, Human, Twilight Sparkle, Lightning Dust, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Death, Alternate Universe, Rainbow Dash, Princess Luna, Science Fiction
Length: 23150

A spirit of darkness threatens the peace of Equestria, and a war beyond the thoughts of mortal beings beckons... and for Rainbow Dash, a test of just what kind of mare she really is.

Before recorded time on the world of Equus, there were spirits that guided the burgeoning civilisations... until one such spirit destroyed their peace and left the world in a darkness that it barely survived. Then, peace was restored by the efforts of the few good spirits that remained, but that time is over.

Now, Equestria is at peace, guided by the Princesses Celestia and Luna, and the rest of the world moves towards that selfsame peace. But all that changes when a ship from another world appears in the skies above Ponyville.

Now, a war beyond the thoughts of mortal beings beckons... and for Rainbow Dash, the Element of Loyalty, a test of just what kind of mare she really is, as she and her friends join a fight to save another world from a twisted mirror of their own beautiful home...

***

Based on the “Alt-TCB” sub-genre of The Conversion Bureau sub-genre (sub-sub-genre?), with influences taken from a variety of different sources (including my other Alt-TCB story, The Avatar of Albion, as well as my work on Spectrum).

With thanks to RoyalPsycho, The Void, TheIdiot, and many others for... well, helping me get my head out of a dark place.

Published 2018-03-06 15:10:06 UTC
Last updated 2019-03-17 07:08:55 UTC

Peace (?) In Ponyville

The Prism of Infinity

One
Peace (?) in Ponyville

Written by
Jed R.

Editors/Pre-Readers
RoyalPsycho
Doctor Fluffy

“How are we supposed to protect Equestria?”
Rainbow Dash, Princess Twilight Sparkle, Part 2.

Do not fear what is to come.

Do not fear pain, for it is transient. Do not fear sorrow, for it is temporary. Do not fear death, for it is inevitable.

Fear the loss of your heart, for you may never get it back. Fear the hardening of your soul, for it may never soften. Fear anger, for it burns friend and foe alike. Fear fear, for it turns even the purest soul into a monster. And fear loneliness most of all, for it drives us to do terrible things.

Terrible things… these are the tales of terrible things, but also of the good that they draw forth. These are tales of love, of sisterhood, of brotherhood, but also of war, of pain, of death. These are the tales of loss, of sorrow, of betrayal, of madness, of sacrifice and heroism, of duty and honour.

These are the tales we will always need, the tales we will always tell.

And this tale starts like this.

Ponyville. May 10th, Year 1890 of the Harmonian Calendar.

“Rainbow Dash!”

Mornings in the town of Ponyville honestly didn’t deserve to be called ‘peaceful’, nine times out of ten, as much as the ponies who lived there might have wished otherwise.

In fact, Ponyville had, in the time since Princess Celestia’s student Twilight Sparkle had taken up residence, seen everything from an attack by an Ursa to an invasion of parasprites to an incursion by a chaos god. The residents of the otherwise peaceful hamlet had learnt to accept that their home was going to have its share (and then some) of whatever anarchy was happening in Equestria at the time.

Of course, most of the time the things that went wrong weren’t apocalyptic, merely the result of some of the… esoteric inhabitants of this town indulging in a variety of their eccentricities.

Rainbow Dash – a cerulean Pegasus mare with a rainbow mane that ran in her family – was one such esoteric inhabitant, one who happened to enjoy moving at incredible speeds through the air. This was something she was also very, very good at.

Unfortunately for both Rainbow Dash and the inhabitants of Ponyville, she didn’t always necessarily make sure that the speeds she went at didn’t affect anypony else, as Twilight Sparkle herself was making abundantly clear.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” the purple Alicorn asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rainbow Dash was currently sitting in a heap of shattered and cracked crates that had, about two minutes ago, been sitting (perfectly intact) on top of a cart being pulled into the town. That had, of course, been before Rainbow had made what might charitably have been called a navigational error. It was rather lucky for Dash herself (not to mention her friends, colleagues, fan-club members, and possibly the rest of Equestria) that she was neigh-indestructible. It was not, unfortunately, something that could be said for the rest of Ponyville’s scenery – or, for that matter, population.

“Well,” Rainbow began, chuckling nervously, “I, uh… would you believe it’s practice?”

“I’d believe it’s ‘out of practice’,” Twilight replied, rolling her eyes. “Y’know, I thought you’d have been past this by now.”

“Past what?” Rainbow asked innocently.

“Past this… irresponsibility,” Twilight clarified, groaning in frustration. “I mean, come on Rainbow. You’ve got to know better than to be this careless after… y’know, I don’t even know how many times!”

“Well, in my defence,” Rainbow retorted, “nopony told me there’d be a cart coming through my usual practice route this morning.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Maybe you should go slower?”

Rainbow snorted. “That would kinda defeat the point of speed training, dontcha think?”

Twilight sighed. “Just… just be more careful in future, okay?”

Rainbow sighed. “It’s important training, y’know.”

“Of course it is,” Twilight replied with reflexive sarcasm.

“I mean it,” Rainbow said, seeming unusually serious. “Without the Elements, Equestria’s gonna have to rely on us being faster, smarter, and better than anything that shows up. Which we’re not gonna be if we don’t train.”

Twilight blinked, before giving Rainbow a tired smile. “I… think I understand what you’re saying. But Rainbow… I’m sure there’s nothing that terrifying on the horizon. And even if there is, it won’t be anything we can’t handle.”

“There’s a big difference between saying that,” Rainbow retorted, “And it being true, y’know.”

Twilight’s smile faded. “I know.” And then it returned, brighter than ever. “But hey, I know we’ve defeated plenty of things without the Elements. I believe in us, Rainbow.”

Rainbow gave a big grin. “Me too, Twi. Me too.”

Twilight’s smile turned into a wry smirk. “So, does that mean you won’t be knocking any more crates over?”

Rainbow winked. “No promises, Twilight.”

And with that, she took off, heading somewhere else in a hurry. Twilight watched her go, her rainbow-coloured trail zooming off into the distance, and sighed.

“That one,” she murmured to nopony in particular. “Always on the move.”

If you had asked Rainbow Dash why she felt the need to train so rigorously, she might have brought up any number of reasons. The upcoming Equestria Games, her dedication to becoming a Wonderbolt, the desire not to lose her edge or become complacent. To an extent, some of these reasons might even have been true: Rainbow might have had a certain lazy streak (or several lazy streaks, really), but she didn’t want to become complacent in her skills, and both the Equestria Games and the Wonderbolts training mattered a great deal to her. But that wasn’t all of it.

For the past few days, she’d felt a sense of growing dread in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know why, but she had the horrible feeling that something was coming, was going to happen that would need her at her best. And, without the Elements of Harmony to help her and her friends take on any major threat, her best needed to be even better than it had ever been, which, given how awesome she had already been, meant tapping into a layer of awesome that had been hitherto unheard of.

Why do ponies use words like ‘hitherto’ anyway? Rainbow wondered. She’d read it in a Daring Do novel, and it had seemed silly to use a big word like that, one which half the ponies Rainbow had ever met probably wouldn’t have understood, when a smaller word would do. That being said, she was sure some ponies preferred the big words. Twilight’s definitely a fan of big words. Egghead.

She shook her head, and began thinking about her training regimen. Low-flying speed and manoeuvrability training was important: the ability to approach an opponent from great speed, dodge obstacles quickly even when you weren’t expecting them, make sharp turns at high speed… all of that was important. Indeed, it was basic hostile flight training.

Probably still need a bit more training if I’m running into a cart full of crates when I wasn’t expecting them, Rainbow thought with a frown. But hey, that just means there’s room for improvement, right?

Her face took on an expression of determination, and the corner of her mouth turned up in a smirk. She could definitely work with ‘room for improvement’.

With a sigh, she began flying in the direction of Fluttershy’s cottage. In all her training – and her little chat with Twilight – she’d almost forgotten that she was supposed to be meeting with Fluttershy in a few minutes.

No problem, she thought with a grin. I needed more speed training.

“Spiiiiiike!” Twilight called as she entered her library. “Are you here?”

Her assistant didn’t answer, and Twilight sighed. The young dragon had mentioned something about going to help the Cutie Mark Crusaders out with yet another plan to get their cutie marks today, but she had hoped she would catch him before he had the chance to head off.

Because, despite everything she had said to Rainbow Dash, something was wrong today. She could feel it in the air, and she’d been able to for at least the last two days. She couldn’t rationally explain the ‘wrongness’, but she knew, with the certainty of the rising sun, that it was happening.

Maybe Rainbow’s right to be worried, part of her thought, and she could only just dismiss the thought. Could be some sort of magical miasma. But no… why would it only affect us two?

Even as she thought it, there was a knock on her door. She sighed.

“Come in,” she called.

At once, Pinkie Pie and the tan Earth Pony stallion just about everypony called Doctor Hooves entered the room. Pinkie was jabbering to herself, smiling happily, but her eyes were glassy and looking at everything and nothing at once. Hooves, by contrast, simply looked concerned as he led Pinkie into the library.

“Princess Twilight,” he said seriously, “I wouldn’t normally bother you – after all, we all know that you’re rather busy these days, being made a Princess and all, and congratulations on that by the way, I think it’s wonderful that…”

“Doctor,” Twilight said seriously. “What’s wrong with Pinkie?”

Hooves sighed. “Well, at first, we – myself and Ditzy, that is, she and I were at Sugarcube Corner enjoying a spot of tea, when -”

“Doctor,” Twilight said more sternly.

Doctor Hooves took a breath. “I think that something very, very odd is happening to Pinkie.”

Twilight smiled tightly. “Define ‘very, very odd’.”

“You’d… have to hear for yourself,” Hooves said quietly. Behind them, Pinkie was arranging random odds and ends in a rough semicircle around her.

“She did that at one of the tables,” Doctor Hooves said. “It’s best just to wait and see.”

Twilight frowned, before approaching Pinkie. Though she was mostly mumbling, occasionally words would pop out in fragmented bits of sentences.

“… I know, the ration packs are so horrible! I tried adding sugar but… why yes, Commander, I do know a bunch of drinking games… no, should I? Oh yes, Lieutenant. No? No? Maybe? Well, I do try, but I left a lot of my best emergency party supplies in…”

“Some of it is addressing individuals, by rank mostly,” Hooves said quietly. “I don’t know what’s wrong. It might be some sort of catatonic state, but to be honest I’m not that kind of doctor, so my expertise in medical ailments is…”

“Thank you, Doctor Hooves,” Twilight said shortly. She waved a hoof in front of Pinkie’s eyes. “Rainbow Dash told me that she saw something a little like this once, but…”

“But you don’t want to rule it out, Pinkie Pie or not,” Doctor Hooves said. “In truth, I don’t blame you – I’ve seen my share of Pinkie’s… well, her uniqueness, but this…” his voice trailed off. “I wouldn’t be able to guess what this is, honestly.”

“I’m just glad you brought her here,” Twilight said. “Though I’m surprised you didn’t take her to the hospital.”

“Let’s just say I was following my gut on the matter,” Doctor Hooves said, tapping his nose. “Have you any recommendations here?”

“Well,” Twilight said. “She seems… definitely catatonic. This isn’t her talking to imaginary beings because of social anxiety or social withdrawal. This is more like… this is more like she’s seeing something completely different than the rest of us, like her perceptions are totally different from the physical world.” She looked at the objects Pinkie had arranged. “I don’t even think she’s consciously arranging them. More like… her hooves moving to fill some gaps.”

“‘Different’, you say?” Hooves asked, frowning. “In what sense?”

Twilight sighed. “That’s a question only she can answer, isn’t it.” She took a deep breath. “Can you leave her here and go fetch somepony from the hospital, please? Nurse Redheart should be on duty, at least.”

Hooves nodded and dashed off, leaving Twilight with the unresponsive Pinkie. She tried to consider what might have caused this state to happen.

Could it be Discord? It wasn’t like his usual work, but he wasn’t known for repeating himself, and more to the point, now that the Elements were gone there was only the dubious promise of his friendship with Fluttershy to…

No, she thought. If he was going to do something, we’d know. He’s ostentatious. This is… small.

What could possibly have happened to Pinkie? Some sort of creature attack? Something to do with her Pinkie Sense? Something else entirely?

Loathe as she was to leave Pinkie in her current state, Twilight knew there was only one recourse open to her, and that was to go to her library and start researching. There had to be something in all of these books.

Turning away from Pinkie – who was still mumbling cheerfully at the objects she’d assembled, addressing them almost as if they were friends, even pausing as they “talked” – Twilight got to work. Whatever this was… well, “normal” was not a word Twilight could easily apply to Pinkie, but this was something far beyond her usual state.

Just as she turned to go, however, Pinkie said something that almost made her heart freeze.

“… thanks for asking Captain. I am really worried about Twilight. Are you sure she’ll be okay?”

Rainbow Dash arrived at Fluttershy’s with time to spare – unfortunately, most of that time was then spent putting the potted plant she’d knocked over back upright, not to mention putting the soil back around it satisfactorily. Despite her best efforts, when Fluttershy stepped out to greet her, her kind eyes immediately gravitated to the plant.

“Oh dear,” the butter-yellow Pegasus said softly. “What happened?”

“I, uh…” Rainbow said, scratching the back of her head sheepishly. She was half tempted to tell a small white lie, but as much as she didn’t like admitted her carelessness, Fluttershy was her one of her oldest and best friends. “I think I need to work on ‘landing at speed’ a bit more.”

Fluttershy smiled. “It was an accident, Rainbow.” She examined the plant. “Anyway, it’ll be okay. It doesn’t look like it was damaged, though I might need to put more soil in with it.”

Rainbow smiled. “Glad I didn’t wreck it.”

Fluttershy threw her a look. “Why were you practicing speed landing?”

Rainbow’s smile faded slightly. “Oh, just… y’know, keeping sharp. In case, y’know?”

Fluttershy nodded. “I think I do. You’re worried about us not having the Elements.”

Rainbow nodded and gave her a rueful smile. “Can you blame me?”

“No,” Fluttershy admitted. “But… well…”

“Well?” Rainbow asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, you’ve been pushing yourself pretty hard since then,” Fluttershy said. “I mean… even the ‘most daring pony’ thing with Applejack…”

“That?” Rainbow Dash said with a derisive snort. “Come on, Fluttershy, that was just me having fun!”

“Was it?” Fluttershy asked, giving Rainbow a meaningful look.

Rainbow didn’t answer, but Fluttershy had a way of getting to the heart of things.

“Ok,” she said quietly. “Maybe I’m just antsy. This stuff’s been worrying me since we lost the Elements.”

“Which is why,” Fluttershy pointed out, “Twilight’s been looking for a way to get them back. Isn’t it?”

“I guess,” Rainbow said. She smiled. “She’ll figure something out, right?”

“We will,” Fluttershy replied. “Together.”

“Together,” Rainbow nodded. She let out a sigh. “Well, let’s get going! Those seeds won’t collect themselves!”

Fluttershy nodded, and together the two of them set off for the Everfree Forest.

In the end, she hadn’t been able to concentrate on reading, a fact that might have had her laughing at the irony of it if she hadn’t been focused on how terrified she was.

Pinkie continued to mumble and murmur to herself, that same glassy-eyed, catatonic grin on her face. As Hooves had mentioned, a lot of it appeared to be her talking to people that only she could see, many of them with ranks. Desperate for something to do, Twilight began noting down every instance of rank that she could, followed by names.

Her own name came up three more times, all in conjunction with speaking to the ‘Captain’. She also spoke to the ‘Commander’ another four times, and the ‘Lieutenant’ (or possibly more than one) a good dozen or more.

“Pinkie?” Twilight tried. “Are you… can you hear me?”

“… no, Ensign, I’ve not heard anything about that – but you know me!” Pinkie said to nopony in particular. “Happy to help with any parties, any time…!”

Twilight gave a sigh. She wondered what it was Pinkie thought she was seeing.

“Twilight?” Pinkie’s voice suddenly said, and Twilight felt the blood drain out of her face. In contrast to most of Pinkie’s cheerful rambling, she now looked deadly serious. Her mane had even deflated somewhat.

“Pinkie?” Twilight said again. “Can you… can you hear me?”

“Can you still hear me, Twi?” Pinkie echoed plaintively, not hearing Twilight’s own plea. “I know that everyone says you can’t. They say you’re not really ‘aware’. I wish you could hear me though.”

Twilight sighed. “I can, Pinkie, I can. Can’t you hear me?”

Pinkie didn’t look at her, but her next words chilled Twilight to the bone.

“The Captain says you’re helping us win the war.” Twilight felt her breath quicken. “That what you’re doing is giving us the advantage. Maybe that means we’ll all be able to go home soon, huh?”

Pinkie sighed, blowing a lock of mane out of her face. “I just wish… there’s so much I wish I could say to you, Twi. But if you hear me, I just want you to know – I wouldn’t change any of this for the world. Well, maaaaaaaybe I’d take home never changing like it did if it meant we didn’t have to be here, but that’s probably not how it works. I know you have doubts like any of us, Twi, but I just want you to know that I know we’re doing the right thing, and I know that you know it too.”

What does she mean? Twilight thought. What war? What’s happening where… where she is? A sudden horrible thought occurred to her. Could she… could she be seeing the future?

A sudden knock at the door dragged Twilight’s attention away from Pinkie and that altogether horrifying thought. She raced to the door of her library and opened it: sure enough, Doctor Hooves was there, grim faced, along with Dr Horse, a stern-looking Earth Pony with a messy black mane.

“Hooves told me what happened, Princess,” Horse said, barging past Twilight and approaching Pinkie. “She’s catatonic and unresponsive, talking to unseen persons, correct?”

“Uh, yes,” Twilight said, frowning. “That’s right.”

Horse examined Pinkie, shone a small light in her eye, checked her heartbeat with a stethoscope and then sighed.

“Eye dilation normal, pulse normal,” he said. “Without taking her in for proper examination – which we’re ill-equipped to do right now – I can’t say what’s wrong.”

“What’s happened?” Twilight said, frowning at him. “Why aren’t you equipped to handle her?”

Horse shared a glance with Doctor Hooves, who answered for him.

“Pinkie’s condition is the worst they’ve seen,” he said. “But more than a dozen ponies have come in complaining of headaches, auditory or even visual hallucinations, or some undefined ‘bad feeling’ that’s a mix between dread and paranoia.”

Twilight felt the blood drain from her face. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Horse said, narrowing his eyes at her.

“I-I’ve had a feeling of… of ‘something bad’, all day,” Twilight said softly. “Whatever it is… if it’s affecting that many ponies, even me…”

“It’s a big deal,” Hooves finished.

“Princess Twilight,” Horse said slowly, “it’s clear to me that this is in no way a medical issue, but a magical one, and thus beyond my capabilities to deal with. I will have all of my findings delivered to you at once, and of course I will continue to provide what care I can.”

Twilight sighed. “Thank you, Dr Horse.” She turned to Hooves. “Doctor Hooves, if you could find the other Element Bearers for me, I would be incredibly grateful. I suspect we’re all going to need to band together if something is happening.”

“I’ll get right on it,” Hooves said with a nod. He dashed off, and Dr Horse, with a nod of his own, followed.

Twilight sighed and looked back at Pinkie.

“… is that really what happened to them? Wow, I didn’t realise…”

“Well, Pinkie,” Twilight said to her catatonic friend, “here’s hoping we find some answers soon.”

Pinkie tilted her head, looking off somewhere above Twilight’s bookshelves. “…I’m sure everything will be okay!”

Twilight couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “I hope you’re right, Pinkie. I hope you’re right.”

“Thanks again for helping me today,” Fluttershy said quietly. “I know you’re busy.”

“No problem,” Dash said with a wink.

She watched as Fluttershy collected another few seeds. Fluttershy was the one who had an eye for such things, and so Rainbow was more than content to let her focus on doing the collecting. Rainbow didn’t mind that this left her holding the bag. Weight training, after all.

“Hey,” Rainbow said after a moment, “you never told me what these were for, anyway.”

“Oh, well, Zecora asked me to grow a few plants for her,” Fluttershy replied with a soft smile.

“Uh huh,” Rainbow said with a nod. “That’s fair, I guess. But why can’t she grow them herself? Not like she doesn’t know how to garden.”

“She probably knows more than me, but the Everfree doesn’t let a pony – or, uh, a zebra – control the growth and health of a plant as well as we can outside the Everfree,” Fluttershy replied with a patient smile. She sighed as she collected another seed. “Alright, this should be everything I need for now.”

Rainbow’s eyes glanced over to the Everfree Forest, the looming, dark presence now uncomfortably close. While they had ventured in there before, she still didn’t entirely trust the place.

She frowned: she could have sworn she could see eyes, watching them from a distance.

“Do you see that?!” she called, pointing to the forest’s edge.

“See what?” Fluttershy asked, frowning in that general direction. “I don’t see anything.”

Rainbow frowned. The eyes were gone, but she could have sworn she had seen something out there.

“There… I thought I saw something watching us,” she said, scowling. “It musta run off.”

Fluttershy frowned. “If there was something watching us, maybe we’d best head home. We don’t want some nasty creature to catch us off guard.”

“If it tried, I’d smack it into next week,” Rainbow muttered.

“Come on, Rainbow,” Fluttershy said, still looking at the forest. Her expression was odd – a mix of fear and confusion. “We really don’t want to still be around if it’s dangerous.”

Rainbow felt an irrational urge to go charge into the forest after whatever she had seen, but she shook her head. Fluttershy was clearly less than thrilled by the idea of there being something out there, and surely Rainbow had a responsibility to get her friend away from potential danger, right?

“Alright,” she said. “Let’s go, Flutters. You’re right.”

The two Pegasi began flying away, neither of them looking back, even as the owner of those eyes returned to watch them again, silently observing them as they headed back into the safety of Ponyville.

And so the children of the imposed order now return from the border of the realm of the natural order, scampering in fear away from that which they do not comprehend. It is the way of things, and so accepted and guarded thusly.

The intelligence watching the two ponies trot (or in the cerulean mare’s case, fly) back to their small town couldn’t help but give a small smile.

Infinite diversity in infinite combinations, all of it right in its own way, all of it just in its own right, and all of it Good.

For so long the intelligence had observed the Way of Things. It was not always a task of fairness: deep within the depths of this forest, and others, there was a cruelty and a hardness to life that the ponies of Equestria had long since subdued with their magicks. And yet, the silent watcher begrudged them not their advances, no more than she could begrudge nature its own ways and faults. In these matters, these things simply were as they were. Only when they truly brought danger to one another, when they stepped beyond the bounds of their Orders and began breaking the cycles that kept the world alive, would it be her task to set them straight.

And yet…

There is a feeling in the air, something... wrong. Yes, that was the word. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, WRONG…

The watcher shook her head and turned to leave. There had been many things that felt wrong that the right corrected all by itself, from the time of Discord a millennial ago when the spirit of Chaos had subjected this world to his inversion/subversion/aversion of the way it was meant to be, through the corruption of the guardian of the moon, all the way to… well, the return of the corrupted lunar guardian and the Chaos spirit. As her long watch had taught her, much of the way the world worked was cyclical, and that which was wrong would be corrected without her input. She, therefore, needed and was mandated only to observe, never interfere. It was the rule of her life.

For all the world is my charge, and I must see all sides of it, she thought, as though remembering a dream.

Nodding her contentment that things would return to the Way They Should Be, the mare named Gaia left. After all, all the world was her charge, and a most troublesome charge it could be at that.

Author's Note

You know what the joyous thing about making new variations on an old theme is? You get to come up with entirely new concepts for how things work, for how certain points - A to B to C - happen, and for how they affect everything else. Such is what we see here...

... but I’ll let the story tell you that itself, in due course 😉 For now, I just hope you enjoy it all.

The Mare in the Mirror

The Prism of Infinity

Two
The Mare in the Mirror

Written by
Jed R.

Editors/Pre-Readers
Doctor Fluffy
TheIdiot

“Equestria, we have a problem.”
Twilight Sparkle, Equestria Games.

Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy got back to Fluttershy’s cottage with time to spare, which was good as far as Rainbow Dash was concerned, since she was still… well, not rattled, since she was obviously too awesome to be rattled by anything, but she had been worried for Fluttershy’s safety when she saw the eyes from the forest.

“I’ll just go put these away,” Fluttershy said, trotting up to her cottage with a smile.

Rainbow nodded. “I’ve got stuff to do, so -”

“Hold on a second, please,” Fluttershy called back at her. She went inside her house, and then a few moments later came back out, her expression more serious. “Okay, now I’d like to go back to town with you, if that okay.”

“Uh, sure,” Rainbow said, frowning. “Why?”

Fluttershy looked away from her for a moment. “I – I don’t know how to explain it.” She let out a sigh. “I’ve been feeling… I think it’s dread.”

“‘Dread’?” Rainbow repeated. “How d’you mean?”

“I don’t know how to explain it,” Fluttershy said, frowning. “I just… I’d feel safer going with you. If that’s okay.”

“Well, yeah, sure,” Rainbow said, smiling at her. “No problem, Flutters.”

It wasn’t that far down the path to the centre of town that they were suddenly accosted by Doctor Hooves, who had galloped up the path to them at such speed that even Rainbow hadn’t seen him until he was almost at them.

“Oh, hello Doctor,” Fluttershy said. “How are you doing t-”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you two!” the stallion said eagerly, cutting Fluttershy off. “Do you have any idea how many ponies look almost identical to the pair of you except for some small detail like mane colour or cutie mark? It really makes looking for anyone – excuse me, anypony – really hard! And that’s leaving out the fact that the pair of you are Pegasi! Why, I had to ask Ditzy to look in all the more vertically challenging places, and the poor dear’s gone and gotten herself lost…”

“Doc,” Rainbow said, cutting him off. “What do you need us for?”

“Oh, right,” Hooves said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Basically, something’s wrong, and Princess Twilight asked that all of you – the Element Bearers, that is – be summoned and directed towards her abode posthaste.” He paused. “She may have not used those exact words.”

Fluttershy and Rainbow exchanged a look. Regardless of Hooves’ rather odd manner of telling them this, being asked to go to Twilight’s in such a manner wasn’t a sign of anything good.

“What’s happened?” Fluttershy asked after a moment.

Hooves was uncharacteristically quiet. “You’d… better go yourself. It’s not good.”

That was enough to set Rainbow Dash zooming off towards Twilight’s without so much as a ‘goodbye’. Fluttershy threw Hooves a hurried ‘thank you!’ and followed as fast as her wings would let her. Sighing, he just started trotting back to Ponyville.

When they got to Twilight’s library, Applejack and Rarity were already there… and so was Pinkie Pie.

Rainbow couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Pinkie Pie’s glassy eyes were glancing about, not focusing on anypony or anything. She was rambling in a soft murmur, her expressions going through a variety of emotions, from cheeriness to concern to thoughtfulness all at once.

“Oh my,” Fluttershy said from behind Rainbow. “What happened to Pinkie?”

“That’s what we’ve been trying to figure out, darling,” Rarity said, a soft, worried smile on her face. “Twilight’s just gone to check some of her more… esoteric books, shall we say, to see if there’s something about this kind of catatonic state in there.”

“Cata-what now?” Rainbow said, frowning. “What do cats have to do with what’s wrong with Pinkie?”

Fluttershy coughed. “Catatonic states are when somepony is unresponsive to external stimuli.”

Rainbow frowned. “I… okay, never mind.”

She looked at Pinkie and waved a hoof in front of her face. Pinkie grinned whilst looking somewhere over Rainbow’s shoulder.

“… so then I said, ‘you can’t load the cannons with party materials: a cannon needs special modifications to work as a Party Cannon’, but of course he didn’t believe me…”

“But… she’s talking,” Rainbow said after a moment. “And moving. How’s that cata-whatever?”

“That is what makes this particularly mysterious,” Rarity said quietly. “If it is a catatonic state, it's not a normal one.”

Pinkie’s rambling picked up slightly. “…I’ve been planning that surprise party for three weeks, you cannot ruin it! Promise me, Lightning…”

Rainbow frowned at the sound of a particularly familiar name, and Applejack noticed.

“Somepony you know?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I know plenty of Lightnings: kinda a common name for Pegasi,” Rainbow said. “But… I dunno, it makes me think of somepony I don’t want to think about.”

“Ooh, I remember which mare you mean,” Rarity said, frowning in distaste. “Yes, I can see why the reminder might not be your favourite.”

“But why would she be saying random pony’s names?” Applejack asked. “Or… y’know, that mare’s. What’s she seein’?”

“And why’s she seeing it?” Fluttershy added, still looking at Pinkie with wide, worried eyes.

“We don’t have any way to find out,” Rarity said, giving Applejack and Fluttershy a small, rueful smile. “Unless Twilight comes up with something -”

“Which I haven’t,” Twilight’s irritable voice said from behind the group.

The rest of them turned to look at her; she had no books with her and she looked somewhere between livid and frustrated. Or maybe ‘frustrated to the point of being livid’, it was difficult to tell the exact difference. Sighing, she sat herself down and looked at Pinkie.

“Didn’t you find anything to help at all, even a little?” Rarity asked. “Any explanation, at least?”

Twilight shook her head. “Everything to do with catatonic states seems to point to a different sort of condition. What Pinkie’s experiencing… just isn’t the same as anything I’ve read about.”

“In what sense?” Rarity asked.

“Well, catatonia is a state of not responding to stimuli,” Twilight replied, scratching the back of her head. “But… well, Pinkie is responding to stimuli. Just not any stimuli that we can see or hear.”

“Y’mean that she’s really talkin’ to… well, whoever she’s talking to?” Applejack asked, frowning at Pinkie.

“Not necessarily ‘really’,” Twilight said, “but there’s a lot more to whatever’s going on than just a simple catatonic state.”

“Like… what?” Rainbow asked, her expression one of utter confusion. “I’m not trying to be rude here, Twi, but what’s happening to Pinkie’s really freaky, and really, really scary.”

Twilight sighed heavily. “I know, Rainbow. What’s worse is, it’s not isolated to Pinkie.”

“What?” Fluttershy said. “You mean there are other ponies who’ve been… who are… like this?”

“Not quite this bad, no, but other ponies are being affected by whatever’s going on,” Twilight replied softly. She took a deep breath. “And whatever it is, it’s affecting me, too.”

There was an immediate chorus of gasps, exclamations and other distressed noises.

“What’s wrong with you?” Rainbow asked immediately.

“Rainbow!” Rarity hissed. She looked at Twilight. “Whatever it is, we’ll help, darling.”

“I know, girls,” Twilight said softly, smiling at them all. “Actually, compared to what some ponies have apparently been experiencing, I’ve been lucky. Doctor Hooves and Dr Horse both came by earlier, and Dr Horse said that Ponyville Hospital’s had a whole load of ponies come in.”

“Are any of them like Pinkie?” Fluttershy asked.

“Not according to Dr Horse,” Twilight replied, shaking her head. “Some ponies are just having feelings of immense paranoia or dread.” She paused. “Like me.”

Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash exchanged glances: that also sounded like what Fluttershy had mentioned.

“Other patients,” Twilight continued, “have had either auditory or visual hallucinations.” At Applejack and Rainbow’s blank expressions, she sighed. “They’ve been hearing and seeing things that aren’t really there.”

There was a pause, and then Rarity nodded, as though something was occurring to her.

“Maybe Pinkie’s worse because of the same thing that gives her that Pinkie Sense of hers?” she asked.

Twilight frowned thoughtfully. “I… hadn’t considered that. It does seem like it might be possible.”

“Does that mean that it has something to do with whatever a Pinkie Sense is?” Rainbow asked, frowning.

“Maybe,” Twilight replied, her expression growing grim. “But the Pinkie Sense was completely inexplicable… nothing I did could even begin to figure out what it actually was, or how Pinkie actually knew things were going to happen.”

“What are you saying, Twilight?” Fluttershy asked.

Twilight took a deep breath. “I’m saying, if this is something to do with that…” Her expression became downcast. “I don’t know what we can do about it, or if it’s even something that has an answer. And the only pony who knows anything about the Pinkie sense is… well…”

She motioned to the still smiling Pinkie.

“You know I never reveal my secrets, Lieutenant,” she said cheerily to nopony.

“No horseapples, sugarcube,” Applejack said grimly.

“What’s being done for the others?” Rarity asked after a moment of silence.

“Dr Horse didn’t know what to do for any of them,” Twilight replied sadly. “The hospital’s current line of thinking is that it’s a magical problem. Which makes it my problem.”

There was a pause as all the ponies considered this.

“I think, when Spike gets back here, I need to send a letter to Princess Celestia,” Twilight finally said. “With Pinkie like this and more ponies being affected, the first thing we need to do is determine whether it’s a localised problem or whether all of Equestria’s in trouble.”

“That sounds like a good start,” Applejack agreed. “Can’t fix a problem if ya don’t know how big it is.”

“Agreed,” Rarity added. “I can go find him, if you’d like: the Crusaders were wandering about in town last I saw.”

“That would be best,” Twilight said softly. She sighed. “Here’s hoping, whatever the scale of the issue, that Princess Celestia has some idea how to deal with it.”

Princess Celestia – the alabaster Alicorn who was one half of the Equestrian Diarchy – was not having a good morning. Actually, she was having a terrible morning.

It had all started with the dream she’d had. She had been stood in a dark void, feeling something malevolent and oppressive all around her, and she could do nothing but flinch and cringe, every step in that place observed by an intelligence that she could not comprehend.

Then, suddenly, she had been in front of a mirror, one that stood in the centre of this void. Ripples seemed to go outwards from the point the mirror intersected, as though the surface was water, deep and black. And yet, where her own hooves had pressed upon the unknown ground, there was nothing.

She had approached the mirror slowly, her eyes widening in horror at the tired mare that seemed to be staring back at her from the depths of the mirror. Celestia had been looking at herself, there was no doubt about it… but where her own coat was shining alabaster, the mare in the mirror’s was dulled and dirty. Where her own mane was filled with lustrous, glimmering colours, the other mare’s had dulled to barely discernible, faded shades, almost greys and blacks. Tired eyes met Celestia’s own, and she almost recoiled at the sheer despair she saw within the other mare’s glassy, tired orbs.

Help me, the image in the mirror had seemed to say, her mouth working but no sound coming out. She almost looked like she was pleading. Please help me.

That had been the moment Celestia had woken up, gasping for breath and full of an unknown terror. She had reassured herself by looking in her own mirror and nodding at the image of herself she saw there – a little tired, but otherwise all her. Despite this, however, the image of her mirror doppelgänger begging for help had been one she could not shake, even as she ran through the usual affairs of state.

It didn’t help that today was the day she had a meeting with Prince Blueblood. She loved her nephew, but he was occasionally… vexing.

Not to mention the rather tedious subject that the meeting was about: Blueblood wanted to speak with her about trade routes and their rate of taxation, and the subsequent negative effect he believed it was having on their economy.

Ugh.

Still, she thought as she dragged herself out of bed. It could have been worse. She could have been the mare in the mirror, tired eyed, faded maned, tortured and haggard and pleading for somepony to help her…

There but for the Mother’s grace go I, Celestia thought softly, shaking her head to try and clear it. For some reason, she couldn’t get rid of the image of the haunted mare in the glass, her plaintive expression and sorrowful eyes…

Focus, Celestia, she thought to herself. It was a dream. Just… just a dream.

But as she got ready to deal with the affairs of state, she couldn’t help but get the feeling that it was far, far more than that.

When Spike finally got back to the Library, with Rarity right behind him, he was shocked to see the catatonic Pinkie. Whatever questions he might have had, however, were forestalled by Twilight immediately raising a hoof to silence him.

“We don’t have time to explain what's going on, Spike,” she said apologetically. “I need you to take a letter to Princess Celestia, urgently.”

“I… alright,” Spike nodded, still looking at Pinkie even as he grabbed the ink and quill from Twilight’s desk, followed by some paper.

Twilight couldn’t help but glance at her catatonic friend. Pinkie was still staring off vacantly, murmuring to herself. “… I always thought that painting it pink would make it look friendlier…”

Oh, Pinkie, she thought. How did this happen? What did this?

“Ready, Twilight,” Spike said, bringing Twilight's attention back to the present. He was holding the quill to the paper with a serious expression.

Twilight glanced at the others, who were looking to her anxiously, and then she began.

Dear Princess Celestia,

I write to you with unfortunate and worrisome news. Some sort of magical condition has begun spreading around Ponyville.

At that, Spike paused in his writing and looked up at Twilight, but she motioned for him to continue.

The worst case we’ve heard about is Pinkie Pie, who is in some sort of catatonic state where she’s seeing something we can’t. However, other ponies are experiencing symptoms ranging from paranoia, fear and anxiety, as though something terrible were about to happen, to auditory and visual hallucinations.

I request your urgent assistance in whatever way you can render it. As you can imagine, Ponyville is in a state of worry at the present moment.

Your faithful student and servant,

Twilight Sparkle.

“Done,” Twilight said shortly as Spike finished the letter.

“Alright,” Spike said, taking a breath. A moment later, the letter was on its way. “Now will somepony please explain what’s going on?”

Twilight sighed. “Like the letter said, Spike. Pinkie’s catatonic, and whatever’s wrong with her is almost certainly related to the feelings of dread and anxiety other ponies have been experiencing across town.”

“And the hallucinations,” Rarity added quietly. “It must be serious if it’s affecting as many as it is.”

“I hope that Princess Celestia can do something about it,” Fluttershy said quietly, looking more worried than ever. “I mean, if she can’t…”

“There will be a way,” Twilight said, looking resolute. “There is always a way.”

Rainbow Dash nodded. “Yeah, Twilight’s right. We can take on anything.”

Rarity clicked her tongue. “That’s a nice thought, dear, but unless you become a neurosurgeon, a miracle worker, or just plain omnipotent in the next few hours, I don’t see how we can ‘take on’ Pinkie being catatonic.”

Rainbow huffed. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Rainbow’s right,” Twilight said, looking more determined. “We can’t give up hope. There is always a solution to any problem – we just have to find it.”

“What if other ponies start going like Pinkie?” Spike asked, looking at their friend.

“… well, you know that the Captain doesn’t mean to be a grumpy pants, but after last time…”

“I’m hoping that it’s like Rarity suggested; that what’s happening to Pinkie is a result of her own unique nature,” Twilight said quietly. “The same thing that gives her the Pinkie Sense might be making her more sensitive to… this whatever it is. This… miasma of… wrongness.”

“So, we’re runnin’ with the idea that this is the way it is… because Pinkie’s Pinkie?” Applejack summarised, raising a questioning eyebrow. “That’s awful vague, Twi.”

Twilight shrugged. “I… guess it’s all we have? I don’t like it as an explanation, but until we get something more concrete -”

Suddenly, two things happened at once. First, Twilight’s eyes widened in shock, her mouth dropped open, and she seized up. Secondly, Pinkie stood ramrod straight, looking wildly around.

“Portal drive active, everypony!” she yelled. “General quarters! Batten down the hatches! Press buttons! Don’t panic! Unless you wanna panic: in that case, panic responsibly and remember to assume the position!”

And then Twilight screamed.

The meeting with Blueblood was just as exciting as Celestia had imagined.

“The import tax from the Griffon Empire might be raising vital funds,” her blonde-maned, slightly simpering nephew was saying, “but it’s also stifling a lot of import trade that’s vital for our relations with the greater Griffon Empire.”

He gave her a small, almost patronising smile, though she tried not to be offended: she suspected he couldn’t tell anypony anything he thought they didn’t know without seeming a little patronising about the whole thing. It was the sort of attitude being surrounded and shaped by the elite all your life engendered.

“With the influence the East Equus Company holds over their court,” he continued, “being in their good books is nothing short of vital for economic and political stability, as I’m sure you understand.”

She nodded, only half paying attention. As he spoke, she rubbed a hoof against her head, trying not to let the headache that she was feeling distract her.

“Auntie?” she heard Blueblood say. “Are you alright? You seem a little distant.”

She smiled at him. “My apologies, Blueblood. I had a… difficult night.”

Blueblood swallowed, clearly unsure what to do. “Do you need me to, uh, fetch anypony? A drink, perhaps?”

“No, no,” Celestia said, smiling. “Please, continue. You were saying about the East Equus Company.”

“Ah, yes,” Blueblood said. “What I was thinking was, rather than increasing taxes next quarter, decreasing certain import and license taxes might incentivise more traders to -”

Before he could continue, there was a sudden flash of magic, and a letter landed in front of Celestia. She looked down at it for a moment, before glancing at Blueblood, whose eyes were also fixed on it.

“That… looks important,” he said after a moment.

“Yes, I imagine it probably is,” she told him patiently.

He nodded slowly. “I ought to leave you to it, oughtn't I?”

Celestia brought the letter up and began scanning it. After a moment, she pursed her lips.

“That might be best, yes,” she said slowly. “I’m sorry, Blueblood. We’ll reconvene tomorrow, if this doesn’t take up more time.”

He nodded. “Alright, Auntie Celestia. Hope it all turns out alright.”

“Thank you, dear,” Celestia said vaguely. She didn’t pay attention as he walked out of the room, the door clunking shut behind him, as she found her attention fixed on the letter.

Dread, paranoia… and Pinkie Pie in a catatonic state? What could this possibly mean…?

Before she had any time to ponder more what this meant, however, a sudden pain shot through her head, and she collapsed to her knees. She looked up, and the mirror was back, the same haggard mare that looked just like her still staring out at her.

Help me, she seemed to mouth again.

Celestia blinked, and the mirror was gone, leaving Celestia to wonder just what in the name of the Mother had happened…

Twilight was lying on the floor of her library, unconscious, and Pinkie had inexplicably stopped staring about, glassy eyed. Instead, she was looking at the others with a frown on her face.

“Now,” she said, “I’m sure I wasn’t here. So unless I’m suddenly experiencing some sort of super-awesome-so-surprising-it’s-a-space-warper surprise party…” she looked down at at Twilight and the words died on her lips. “No. This isn’t a party.”

“What was your first clue, Pinkie?” Rainbow asked irritably, looking up from Twilight’s prone form.

“Either Twilight being on the floor or everypony's expressions,” Pinkie replied. “Not sure which I saw first.”

Rainbow kept attending to Twilight, while Fluttershy turned to Pinkie.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly.

“Fine,” Pinkie said, frowning. “Just… confused. I could have sworn I was with… no, but I don’t know any Captain Grey, do I?”

Fluttershy shrugged. “I… don’t think so?”

Rainbow thumped the floor with her hoof. “What the hay is even going on in this place?!”

There was a sudden, shocked silence at Rainbow’s outburst, and then she let out a breath.

“I… sorry, guys,” she said, hanging her head. “It’s just… first Pinkie, now Twilight… I feel so… so out of my depth, y’know? This isn’t just something I can punch or out-awesome.”

Pinkie smiled. “Well, I’m better, so it’s gonna all be okay, I’m sure of it!”

Rainbow smiled back at her. “Thanks, Pinkie. I’m glad you’re back to normal at least..”

She looked down at Twilight, who was slowly opening her eyes.

“W… what happened?” she asked.

“Well,” Applejack said, “you started looking like somepony had run ya through with an ice pick, the Pinkie started jabberin’ something about… what was it?”

“‘General quarters’,” Rarity clarified, frowning, “and something about a portal drive.”

“Eeyup, that was the one,” Applejack nodded. “Then ya just sorta collapsed, and Pinkie got back to normal double quick.”

“What?” Twilight said, turning to look up at Pinkie, who grinned down at her.

“Heya!” she said, grinning. “How’s it going?”

“Better now that you’re okay!” Twilight replied. Pushing herself to her feet, she grabbed Pinkie in a desperate hug. “I was so worried!”

“We all were,” Rarity added, smiling at Pinkie.

“What happened to you?” Rainbow asked, frowning at her as Twilight released her.

Pinkie blinked, before bringing out a bubble pipe and starting to smoke it, a thoughtful furrow to her brow.

“I… don’t know,” she said slowly. “One minute I was making some cakes for the Cakes, and then… I was…” Her frown deepened. “I was somewhere else, but I didn’t recognise it. But I was speaking.”

“We heard you speaking,” Rarity said with a small, empty chuckle. “To all sorts of ponies, or whatever they were.”

“I don’t think they were ponies,” Pinkie said seriously, “or… not all of them.” She looked at Twilight. “But… you were there, Twilight.”

“I was?” Twilight asked. “I mean… you spoke to me, or you thought you were speaking to me -”

“You were there,” Pinkie repeated, “but it was… was so weird...”

A scream from outside caught everypony’s attention before Pinkie could elaborate. At once, the girls and Spike dashed outside… only to see something impossible.

A giant white light had appeared in the sky, pulsating like a living thing. The size of it was enormous, despite it being probably a good mile up off the ground.

“What in the name of Celestia?!” Applejack swore.

“That’s some sort of magic!” Twilight yelled, her eyes widening. It felt like more magic than she’d ever been in the presence of in her entire life. “I don’t understand, only Celestia or Luna could -!”

Suddenly the light faded, and in its place was something entirely different. It must have been over four hundred metres long or more, a sharp, pointed prow facing towards the Canterhorn. Two almost rectangular wings protruded from either side of the machine, each with a massive, armoured zeppelin balloon beneath it, as well as dozens of what looked like propellers. At the rear of a thing was a tall arrangement that looked like a massive control tower. It was making a huge noise, even as far up as it was, so deep that the entirety of Ponyville could hear it.

“Is that an airship?!” Rarity yelled.

“It can’t be!” Twilight yelled. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”

Rainbow glared up at the imposing machine as it hung in the air, and spread her wings.

“Whatever it is,” she said, growling, “I won’t let it threaten Ponyville!”

And with a battle cry, before any of her friends could stop her, Rainbow Dash took off towards the giant unknown machine.

Invaders from the Twelfth Dimension!

The Prism of Infinity

Three
Invaders from the Twelfth Dimension!

Written by
Jed R.

Editors/Pre-Readers
Doctor Fluffy

“Danger's my middle name. Rainbow 'Danger' Dash.”
Rainbow Dash, The Mysterious Mare-Do-Well.

Help me, please. Please. You have to -

Celestia shook her head, the image of the mare in the mirror vanishing once more from sight. Since the painful… experience she’d had in the throne room (for want of a better word), she hadn’t been able to shake the lingering presence of that tortured mirror image, but she didn’t have time to think about it.

Only a scant few moments after the incident in the throne room, Guardsponies had dashed in, panic on their faces.

“What’s the matter?” she had asked. All they had done was point at the window, and when Celestia had looked, she had understood why.

Outside, floating somewhere above Ponyville, was a giant metallic vehicle. It looked like it might have been some bloated, reworked version of an airship, but that was irrelevant. What was relevant was the fact that it was coming towards Canterlot. And that made it a problem.

Immediately, Celestia had summoned some of the officers of her navy and Guard. As the Guardsponies ran off to fetch them, she had returned her attention to the image of her other self.

She was… fleeting. She never seemed to be in the same place between blinks, and she was always in the corner of Celestia’s eye, as though hiding. And yet, sometimes, she was right in front of Celestia, pleading silently.

How do I help you? Celestia thought desperately.

The other mare either could not answer or would not answer, instead continuing to plead silently from the corner of Celestia’s eye. Sighing, Celestia sat on her throne and waited for her officers.

Today was not going brilliantly.

Alright, so maybe flying straight at the thing wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had.

Truth was, Rainbow Dash didn’t know what she was looking at: it was big, made of metal, and seemed to be floating above the town of Ponyville at a high altitude. All she knew was that lots of stuff had been incredibly weird for the last few hours and that this giant metal thing, whatever it was, was the most likely culprit.

She slowed up, flying alongside and underneath it at what she hoped was a safe enough distance to prevent any kind of assault, which was enough to give her a chance to look at it properly.

The hull was metallic grey. The main things keeping it up were definitely the balloons, but it had dozens of what looked like advanced propellers keeping it afloat too, and behind it seemed to be some sort of glowing engine that might have been magic, but somehow didn’t ‘feel’ like it. She could also see other markings: the number E011 was printed in more than one place, as was the word ‘ARRO’ over a symbol not unlike an arrowhead, as well as the name Endeavour.

The Endeavour, huh? Rainbow thought, frowning. Wonder just what sort of endeavour it’s on. Heh. She grinned at her own wordplay. Gotta remember that one when I finally make it aboard and kick its crew’s flank.

“Rainbow!” she heard a voice cry out. She turned in mid-air as she flew, and to her surprise saw Twilight coming up behind her.

“Twi!” Rainbow yelled, waving at her as she reached a parallel course. “How’d you catch up to me?”

“Teleported, and you slowed down,” Twilight replied tiredly. She looked in the direction of the ship. “Figure anything out?”

Rainbow shook her head. “Only that’s it’s big -”

“Which we knew.”

“- and that it might be called the Endeavour,” Rainbow finished. She pointed to the name on the hull, and Twilight turned to look at it.

“Endeavour,” she repeated, making a soft ‘hmmm’ in the back of her throat. “There’s something at least.” She looked back at Rainbow. “I take it you didn’t have a plan of attack?”

“Uh, yeah?” Rainbow said, making a ‘duh’ expression. “I had a great plan. Attack.”

“Attack where?” Twilight asked. “How? Do you know who’s on it, or what defences they have?”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Alright, Twi, what’s your plan?”

Twilight sighed, before looking back at the ship. After a moment, she looked back at Rainbow.

“We need to get closer to it,” she said. “See if there’s some sort of external access port.”

“You mean, you want us to sneak aboard?” Rainbow asked, raising an eyebrow. “And then we kick flank, right?”

Twilight sighed. “And then, we find out who’s onboard, what they want, why they’re here. I don’t want to escalate the violence until it’s absolutely necessary.”

“It’s a giant airship floating over Ponyville!” Rainbow snapped. “What isn’t necessary about fighting whatever’s driving it?!”

“Flying it,” Twilight corrected absently.

“Who cares?!” Rainbow retorted. She pointed to a series of cannons that lined the side of the vessel. “Those look like battle cannons, Twilight. This thing must be a warship. Why would anypony bring a warship to Equestria if they didn’t want to fight?”

“We don’t even know who they are,” Twilight countered.

“Well, I dunno, there Invaders from the Twelfth Dimension or something!” Rainbow snapped frustratedly. At Twilight’s blank stare, she sighed. “It’s a comic. Point is, we don’t know, but we can guess anypony in a warship isn’t going to be wanting to bring us flowers and cupcakes!”

Twilight frowned, but she had to concede that point. “I guess we’ll find out what they want once we’re onboard.”

Rainbow grinned and nodded. “Alright then! Where d’you wanna try first?”

Twilight glanced at the ship again, before motioning for Rainbow to follow her. She headed for one of the armoured balloons that was keeping the thing in the air, and seemed to be flying slowly, as though trying not to attract undue attention.

Huh, she’s really coming on with her flying, Rainbow thought. She tilted her approach angle, and came up next to Twilight as the two of them started skimming along the hull.

“There are some windows,” Twilight said softly. “We need to be careful.”

“Gotcha,” Rainbow said. She pointed ahead to what looked like a gantry, some eighty metres ahead of them. “That looks like it might be a way on.”

“Agreed,” Twilight said. “Come on.”

Even as she said it, however, there was a whirring sound from above them. They looked up, to see a hatch opening up in the hull. What looked like a smaller cannon built into the hull popped out, before whirring and spinning to face them.

“Horseapples!” Rainbow swore, as the thing opened fire. She dodged the shots, and felt a wave of relief as she saw Twilight raise a defensive shield.

“Some sort of defence!” Twilight yelled. She kept her shield up, but a lot of the shots were impacting her. “Get to the gantry, I’ll cover you and try to find a way on later!”

“Gotcha!” Rainbow yelled again, and she dashed forward, making for the gantry. As she landed, she turned to see Twilight still blocking shots, steadily falling back away from the ship.

As it turned out, there was a hatch. Rainbow let out a breath, and turned the handle to open it: it was stiff, but it gave way soon enough with a little effort, and led into a small, cramped corridor.

Alright, Rainbow Dash, she said to herself. Time to find out what this ship is.

Twilight dodged more of the shots, wincing as a few still impacted on the shield she’d put up. To her surprise, however, she found that they had slowed in their pace as she got further away.

Maybe they only have a limited range, she thought, frowning at the ship as she resumed her parallel course. Or maybe they only attack within a certain radius.

Interesting as considering the possibilities was, those thought had to be secondary to the potential threat this machine posed. She could only hope that Rainbow would find out something that could help them figure out what this ship was doing here.

She was right about one thing, she thought grimly as she looked the machine over. It’s definitely a warship. Those are battle cannons of some description. But I don’t understand what it’s doing here!

Ahead of the ship, Pegasi were scattering, heading back for Ponyville. Although she was far up, Twilight could see ponies running into their homes and generally panicking. Then, suddenly, Twilight realised where the course this warship was taking would lead.

It’s heading straight for Canterlot, she thought, a hollow pit opening in her stomach. That couldn’t mean anything good.

Twilight pushed herself harder, moving to try and overtake the machine, but she couldn’t go fast enough. The warship was slowly increasing speed, gaining a greater lead over her every second.

Darn! Twilight said, pulling up as her wing muscles began aching from the strain. She hovered in place, watching the ship pull further ahead of her. She felt a chill run along her spine, knowing that this massive war machine was heading for the city that she had grown up in, heading for some of the ponies she loved most dearly.

And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Rainbow, she thought desperately, it's all on you. Please, find some way to stop that thing.

Rainbow Dash glanced around a corner, then the opposite corner, before stepping out into a grey, uninspiring hallway. It was bare and utilitarian: just what she would have expected from a warship. There were a few signs: arrows pointing for H-Deck, signs pointing to the engine room, the stairs, and the main lift.

Okay, Dash, she thought, following the sign for the stairs. Gotta be super stealthy about all of this. We don’t want to…

She heard a clanking sound from somewhere behind her, and immediately looked to see a door opening. Without thinking, she ducked into another doorway and pressed herself against a wall.

Two figures walked by the doorway, neither of them looking in her direction as they did so. Rainbow frowned as they walked off: they had been bipedal, wearing blue uniform jumpsuits, but she hadn’t been able to spot any other details.

Never seen anything quite like that, she thought. Her mind began racing. Maybe they really are invaders from the twelfth dimension… nah.

Dismissing that thought as soon as she had it, she began following in the direction they had gone, making sure to hover in the air to prevent her hooves from clanking on the metal floor.

As she went, she passed a sign. All Pegasi crewmembers are reminded to travel on foot within the ship to prevent accidents.

There are Pegasi aboard? Rainbow thought, frowning at the sign. But why would Pegasi be aboard this sort of warship? Are they from Equestria after all?

No, that didn’t make any sense, did it? Those bipeds certainly hadn’t been ponies. Shaking her head, Rainbow continued onwards.

At the end of the corridor, as the signs had indicated, was a doorway that led to a stairwell. Rainbow couldn’t see or hear any sign of the bipeds she had seen, and so she began flapping her way up the stairs slowly. She did her best to keep an eye out for doors opening, but she knew full well that it was more than likely that she would be forced to fight soon. She felt her muscles tense.

You can do this, Rainbow, she thought, trying to psyche herself up. I mean, c’mon, you’re one of the most awesome Pegasi in the whole damn world. You’re a Wonderbolt trainee. You’re one of the bearers – well, former bearers – of the Elements of Harmony. You’ve stood up to Nightmare Moon, to Discord, to an army of changelings. This is nothing for you.

Saying these things to herself was helping, but nonetheless she felt a pit of nervousness in her stomach that she would never have openly admitted to. This felt different, in a massive way.

She flew up another couple of levels, until she reached a door that read ‘Access to E-Deck’. Looking up, then down, she figured this was as good a bet as any, and so she gently reached for the door and pulled it open…

… only to find herself facing a pink Earth Pony in a blue jumpsuit, a short, straight mane-

(That can’t be good, Rainbow Dash thought.)

-atop her head and blue eyes widening at the sight of her. But if the Earth Pony was surprised, so too was Rainbow Dash.

“Pinkie?!” she gasped.

Pinkie Pie’s short, straight mane curled almost of its own volition, and she gave a massive grin.

“Rainbow Dash!” she practically squealed. “We meet again! But this time… for the first time!”

“Your highness, we can’t have any ships intercept that vessel in time.”

Such was the dour proclamation of Admiral Coal Black, a Pegasus with a colour scheme as dark as his name, a pair of white wings on a shield his cutie mark. He wore a naval uniform, a blue-tinted variant of the usual Guardspony armour.

“You can’t seriously mean we have no airships available to challenge that machine,” another officer, Captain Staunch Defence, said with a slight scowl. “Not even one?”

“I must echo the Captain’s confusion, Admiral Black,” Celestia said grimly. “It seems odd that we should have nothing to defend our capital with.”

“Your highness, our standard aerial defence strategies have always places the majority of our fleet within immediate range of the border,” Black said apologetically. “The Griffons and the Dragons have proven to be serious issues in that area.”

“And we weren’t prepared for them doing something like this?!” Defence snapped.

“This is absolutely unprecedented!” Black shouted back. “Nothing our enemies have is able to just teleport like that! It would take a tremendous amount of concentrated magical energy to instal an artificial teleportation engine on an airship!”

“Leaving aside the matter of how it circumvented our defences,” Celestia said quietly, “we are still faced with the question of what defences we do have.”

Black sighed. “We have a couple of patrol airships in our nearby airspace, but all our experts have concluded that the thing approaching Canterlot has to be some kind of assault cruiser. Unless it is somehow incredibly archaic or poorly equipped, out patrol ships will be no match.”

Celestia nodded slowly. “I understand.” She sighed. “How soon can we have ships here to challenge the unknown ship?”

“I can get emergency messages out, but the best bet is still more than a day away,” Black said mournfully. “We’re on our own here, your highness.”

“Very well, then,” Celestia said grimly. She turned to Defence. “Begin making preparations to evacuate the populace. I will get my sister, and we will see if we can challenge this machine.”

“Alone?” Staunch Defence asked, frowning. “Your highness, with respect, at least take some Guardsponies with you.”

“That would only risk their safety as well,” Celestia said softly. “Make no mistake, Captain, I intend to see this thing for myself and, if possible, challenge it.” Her expression turned resolute. “If there is nothing else we have that can stand against it, there is still me.”

“Pinkie Pie?” Rainbow asked, raising an eyebrow. “What the hay are you doing here?”

“I work here, silly filly,” Pinkie – or, possibly, just a mare who looked like Pinkie – replied, giggling as she pointed to her sleeve. Sure enough, on the arm was a patch reading UES ENDEAVOUR E011, and on her cuff there was a series of white stripes. “CPO Pinkie Pie, ship’s morale officer, at your service!”

“But…” Rainbow said, tilting her head, “you’re… back in Ponyville, in the library.”

“Oh, yeah!” Pinkie said, waving a hoof. “I figured I would be, since we’re totally in the past or something.”

“In the past?” Rainbow repeated blankly.

“Well, yeah!” Pinkie said, grinning. “Oh, wait, no, to you, I’m from the future and this is the present.” She smacked a hoof against her forehead. “Silly Pinkie, get your temporal terminology right! I am really going to will have to learn this stuff!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Rainbow said, scowling now. “You’re from the future? This ship is from the future?”

“Yup yup yup!” Pinkie replied, grinning even wider now. “And me, and every other pony on board, too! Well, it’s only the future from your perspective, but from my perspective it’s actually the present, but since you’re the confused one I thought saying future would be less confusing for you than…”

“Pinkie,” Rainbow said, holding up a hoof.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up a second.”

“Okey dokey lokey.”

Rainbow didn’t know what to make of any of this. Is this even Pinkie? Is it like a fake Pinkie? Or a changeling Pinkie?

“This is probably reaaaaaaally confusing for you,” Pinkie said after a moment.

“Yeah,” Rainbow drawled. “Just a bit.” She looked around. “What… what is all of this?”

“Well… that’s a long story, and some of it is super complicated.” Pinkie looked thoughtful for a moment. “Normally, I’d take you to Twilight – she’s like really awesome at explaining this stuff -”

“Wait, Twilight’s here?!” Rainbow said, her eyes wide.

“Uh huh!” Pinkie said with a grin, which quickly faded. “But, uh, she’s… busy.” She grinned again. “So I’ll take you to the Captain. He's really great at explaining stuff, too, even if he is a bit of a grumpy pants.”

Rainbow frowned. “Wait, so, who’s in charge? What’s -”

“Like I said, long story, super complicated,” Pinkie said, turning and heading off down the corridor she’d come down, leaving Rainbow to follow. “And the Captain is probably better at keeping on track than me. Ooh, did you know we have this really awesome mess hall? These Excalibur-class cruisers have way more storage space for ingredients than the old Viper-class destroyer we were on… So many weeks without being able to make cupcakes!”

“I’d say ‘I don’t understand a word of that’,” Rainbow said as she followed Pinkie, “but that’s actually kinda reassuring.”

“Because I’m Pinkie being Pinkie?” Pinkie asked, throwing her a knowing look.

“Pretty much,” Rainbow replied. “I mean… it’s reassuring to know that you’re… you. Even if I don’t understand how that’s possible.”

Pinkie grinned. “Well, I guess you’ll find out.”

When Twilight landed by the library, she felt herself nearly collapse from exhaustion, but she managed to keep herself upright. Her wings were burning from effort, her head was in agony from keeping her shields up as the warship had fired on her, and she felt sick with worry.

“Twilight?” she heard Pinkie’s voice say. She looked up, to see her friend giving her a worried expression. “Are you okay?”

“Not really, Pinkie,” Twilight replied, pushing herself to her feet. “That… that ship… Rainbow managed to get onto it, but I wasn’t able to keep up. And it’s… its…”

“It’s headin’ for Canterlot,” Applejack interjected, as she, Rarity and Fluttershy approached Twilight. She glanced up at the now-distant vessel. “You figure anythin’ out?”

Twilight took a breath, steadying herself and trying to compose her thoughts.

“It’s a warship,” she said after a moment. “Armed. Big. Called Endeavour. Has close-defence cannons of some sort. Probably other weapons. It’s…” She took a deep breath. “Like you said, Applejack. Heading for Canterlot.”

“Do you think Rainbow will be able to stop it?” Rarity asked softly.

“There’s no way to know,” Twilight said mournfully. “We don’t know anything about it apart from what we’ve observed, and what we’ve observed is about as far from ‘promising’ as you can get.”

Pinkie Pie looked thoughtful.

“You said it was called Endeavour, right?” she asked.

“That’s right,” Twilight said, frowning at Pinkie. “Why?”

“‘Endeavour’,” Pinkie said again, her frown deepening. “Now… I’m sure I’ve never been on a big floating warship called ‘Endeavour’, except that I’m also pretty sure I have, because I’m remembering something about a ‘welcome to the new ship party’ I threw, except I’ve never thrown a ‘welcome to the new ship party’, and I would never break an alcohol bottle like that.”

“I dunno,” Applejack said. “What if you had to name the ship? I’ve heard that it’s good luck to smash bottles against ships before.”

“That would be for a ‘naming the new ship party’,” Pinkie said patiently, “and the only time I got invited to one, everypony got mad that I named the ship ‘Dave’. I was gonna name it ‘Dave Elliot’ but then he talked to me after it and it wasn’t a good idea. And I had to agree, I mean… it’s kinda been done already, y’know? After which I realised they probably already had a name.” She sighed. “And it wasn’t even Boaty McBoatface. If you’re not naming your ship Boaty McBoatface or Dave then just what sort of sadistic, boring monster are you? I mean, have some fun with naming it!”

“Wait, so you're remembering this ship?” Twilight asked. “How is that even possible?!”

“I dunno,” Pinkie said. “Possibly some sort of cross-dimensional connection of mine and a counterpart’s consciousnesses, creating a temporary ansible effect between my mind and hers, thus resulting in us both becoming aware of each other subconsciously and gaining each other’s memories – except obviously, I got more out of it because she’s further ahead of me.”

There was a pause.

“What?” Rarity asked blankly.

“What?” Pinkie repeated, tapping her head. “Sorry, was channeling my inner Geordi La Forge.”

“Your inner who-now?” Applejack asked, frowning.

“No idea,” Pinkie said cheerfully.

“How does that make any sense?” Twilight asked.

“You’re gonna start questioning it now?” Applejack sighed.

Twilight blinked, before shaking her head. “Pinkie… is there… another you on that ship?”

Pinkie gave her a patient smile. “Twi, I think I already said that.”

Twilight and the others (Fluttershy excepted) facehoofed.

“Well,” Fluttershy put in, “that’s good, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” Twilight put in.

“Pinkie would never be on a ship that’s going to do anything bad,” Fluttershy reasoned. “Not willingly.”

“I don’t think the ship is for anything bad,” Pinkie said. “I’d feel a lot more disturbed if it was.”

Twilight didn’t know what to make of any of this. Was Pinkie right? Was what she had said – whatever the hay most of it meant – really possible?

“I hope you’re right,” she said quietly. “I really… really hope you’re right.”

The lift was at the end of the corridor, and this other Pinkie had pressed a button that was labelled ‘Command Deck’.

“The Captain is gonna be surprised to see you,” she said idly as the lift began ascending. “I mean, to be honest, he’s gonna be surprised anyway, since, y’know, the Sun is the wrong colour, and -”

“The Sun is the wrong colour?” Rainbow repeated. “Seriously?”

“Well, yeah,” Pinkie replied. “Everypony we’ve spoken to about it says that the Sun’s gone a sort of ugly orange colour that really clashes with the shade of grey that the sky went -”

“What the hay are you talking about?” Rainbow said, eyes narrowing. “Orange sun? Black sky?”

Pinkie gave her a blank look for a moment, before making a small ‘o’ with her mouth. “Oh, right. We’re before then. Or we sidestepped then. Not sure which it is, but Doctor Hooves isn’t here so… y’know. Can’t be sure.”

Rainbow shook her head. “Wherever or whenever you’re from, Pinkie, you’ve definitely gotten weirder.”

“Thanks,” Pinkie said with a smile. “I’ve tried to stay chirpy. Ponies and people need to be happy more than ever these days – s’why I signed up as a morale officer.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said noncommittally. In truth, Pinkie’s uniform (and the rank she’d given) were both things that bothered her, but she was ignoring it for now in favour of bigger questions. Like, ‘Just what the hay is even happening here?!’

“Don’t worry, Rainbow,” Pinkie said quietly. “This will all make sense soon.”

And then the lift pinged, and Pinkie led Rainbow onto what she could only assume was the bridge.

It was a large, rectangular room, dominated by a massive observation window at the front, covered in some sort of floating word display. There were bipedal creatures standing and sitting at a wide variety of stations, each one covered in buttons and gizmos that made Twilight’s computer seem positively archaic by comparison. Most were manned by bipeds in the same sort of blue jumpsuit that Pinkie wore, but there were some ponies amongst them, too – even ones Rainbow recognised.

At the centre of the room, looking out of the observation window with two – paws? Hands? – folded behind its back, was another of the bipeds. Unlike Pinkie’s uniform or the uniforms a lot of the bipeds were wearing, this one had a two-piece blue uniform on, tight fitting and decorated with white stripes down the trousers and jacket, as well as on the cuff and shoulder. It had a short, dark mane.

“Captain?” Pinkie said to the biped. “There’s somepony here you’ll want to see.”

The biped – the Captain? – sighed.

“CPO Pie, how many times do I have to -” It turned, and immediately stopped talking, its cold blue eyes fixed on Rainbow Dash. “What the hell.”

Rainbow coughed. “Uh… hi. I’m, uh, here to find out who you are, why you’re here, and to beat you up if you’re a threat to Equestria.”

The biped didn’t react for a moment, but then it suddenly let out a short, harsh laugh. Other members of the crew looked at it, and then Rainbow, and many stopped what they were doing to look st her in shock.

“What?” Rainbow asked, feeling oddly self-conscious.

“Rainbow Dash,” the Captain said. “Just what the devil are you doing here?”

From The Beyond

The Prism of Infinity

Four
From The Beyond

Written by
Jed R.

“Will you accept my friendship?”
Princess Celestia, Friendship is Magic, part 2.

Rainbow frowned at the biped, trying to get a read on his expression. It was odd: somewhere between disbelief and… happiness?

“Who are you, and how do you know who I am?” she asked. She figured it was the best way to start – especially since this creature knowing her name was… well, unnerving, to say the least.

Instead of answering her, the biped looked at Pinkie Pie, his expression hardening. “Alright, CPO Pie, you’ve got my attention. Care to explain this one to me?”

“It’s Rainbow Dash, Captain sir: the real one, or a real one,” Pinkie said with a smile. Her short mane seemed even poofier than it had before. “This proves that this isn’t where we expected to be.”

“We were beginning to think that, too, CPO,” the biped said, more than a little amusement on his expression, “but it’s nice to have some more… some more solid proof.” He chuckled. “Solid. Now there’s a word.”

“It’s good, right?” Pinkie asked him, grinning almost manically. “Isn’t it good?”

Instead of answering her, his gaze returned to Rainbow Dash. “This… I’ll admit, this is definitely a surprise. I wasn’t expecting you to… to be here. Or anywhere, for that matter.”

“You haven’t answered my question, pal,” Rainbow said, almost growling.

Pinkie suddenly moved to stand in front of her. “It’s okay, Dashie! Really it is! The Captain’s a friend.”

“Pinkie, if you even are Pinkie,” Rainbow said, looking at her with something that might almost have been a real scowl if it weren’t Pinkie Pie staring at her with such earnest happiness and worry, “this ship just appeared above Ponyville, it’s big, and it’s clearly armed.” She glared at the biped. “I came here to stop it from hurting anypony, and that’s what I’m going to do. And if you wanna do it the hard way -”

“We’re not going to hurt anypony!” Pinkie cut her off, her mane deflating slightly again, her expression almost hurt. “Honest!” She looked at the biped. “Isn’t that right, Captain? We’re not going to hurt anypony if this isn’t the target, right? Right?!”

The biped nodded slowly, his gaze moving from Pinkie to Rainbow and back again. “At this point, if we’re not sure where we are, then I don’t see why…”

“Captain!” one of the other bipeds said suddenly from one of the stations. “We have incoming!”

The Captain turned to look at the window at once. “What sort of incoming? Missiles? Energy blasts?”

“No, sir,” the other biped said evenly. “Think it’s a tango, judging from the speed and size. Wait, make that two tangoes. They’re approaching fast, heading for the main observation window.”

“All stop,” the Captain ordered.

“Answering all stop, sir,” another biped reported.

“Shields?” the Captain asked.

“We’ve got them at maximum, sir,” another officer said. “But we’re tapping into the auxiliary generators – it was a rougher ride than we thought it was going to be.”

“Of course it was,” the Captain muttered grimly.

“Now reading all stop, sir,” the helm officer said.

“Good,” the Captain said. He pointed to the observation window. “Can we enhance on the tangoes, get a good look at what’s coming at us?”

“Stand by, sir,” the biped who’d spoken first said. The observation window suddenly had some sort of display overlay on it, and that zoomed in on two figures flying towards the ship. Rainbow felt her heart leap into her throat.

Princesses Celestia and Luna were approaching the ship, neither of them looking particularly happy. Luna had donned a metallic silver-blue chestplate, and Celestia wore gold-plated battle armour. Their horns were glowing, semi-transparent shields of energy surrounding them.

“Tangoes confirmed,” the biped manning the console said, frowning. “Profile matches the Selenic Knight and the Empress, but…”

“But what, Mr Reeves?” the Captain asked.

“I’m checking out scan, sir,” the other biped – Reeves? – said, “and we’ve got mana signature discrepancies, and the profiles aren’t one hundred percent.”

“I can see that, Lieutenant,” the Captain said slowly, pointing at them. “What’s their approach vector?”

“Reads as a slow approach,” Reeves replied. “It’s like they’re being cautious. Think they both have their shields up.”

“I can see that, too, Reeves,” the Captain said with a scowl.

“Selenic Knight? Empress?” Rainbow repeated, frowning. “What the hay are you all talking about?”

The Captain waved an arm. “CPO Pie, Rainbow Dash – this Rainbow Dash – is your responsibility. Take her off the bridge if she’s not going to shut up.”

Rainbow blinked. “Hey, you can’t just -”

The Captain turned and gave her an icy glare that made her clam up faster than one of Twilight’s ‘shut up now’ glares.

“This is my ship, my bridge,” he said coldly. “I can do whatever the hell I like. You might want to remember that, Ms Dash.”

Rainbow took a breath and flared her wings out in an aggressive stance. “I won’t let you hurt the Princesses.”

“‘Princesses’,” the Captain repeated, frowning. He looked at Pinkie. “Definitely not where we expected, huh?”

“No, sir,” Pinkie said, sound more serious. “We’re definitely not.”

“Sir,” Reeves said, “we’ve… uh, we’ve got audio from the tangoes.”

“Audio?” the Captain repeated. “How the hell do we have audio? Do ponies come with radios now?”

The biped tapped a few of his controls. “They appear to be… uh, speaking very loudly, Captain.”

The Captain let out a short chuckle. “Speaking very loudly, Mr Reeves.”

“Uh, yes, sir,” Reeves replied.

The Captain sighed. “Alright: let’s hear what they’re saying. Comm, can you tie us in?”

Another biped sitting at a different console tapped a few controls, and then what sounded like Princess Luna’s Royal Canterlot Voice spoke up, channeled through some sort of speaker.

“… we say again, if thou art here with the intent of doing violence, stand down and return with thine ship to the realm whence you came!” she was saying. “If thou wisheth to speak with us, we art prepared to parley with thee!”

“Wow,” one of the officers commented. “Her ye olde English is really tortured, isn’t it?”

The Captain scowled. “Lieutenant Jardine. Can we… send them a response?”

“Uh, not traditionally, sir,” the biped who’d tied the voices in replied, her voice clearly feminine. “We don’t have any speakers loud enough to transmit voice to them so they’d hear it clearly.”

The Captain nodded, before looking back at Rainbow Dash. She frowned at his scrutiny.

“What?” she asked.

“I need your help,” he replied, his tone quiet and serious.

He walked up to her and knelt so that he was eye level with her: Rainbow didn’t know whether to feel glad she didn’t have to crane her neck, or insulted that he was kneeling to do so like she was a foal or something.

“I need you to go out there and speak with them,” he said to her. “You have to ask them to come aboard, so we can… well, parley.”

“Why would I do that when I don’t trust you?” Rainbow retorted angrily. “I still don’t know your name, or where you’re from!”

The Captain simply smiled. “My name is Michael Grey. And in another life, you and I were friends, Rainbow Dash. You trusted me, then. And I need you to trust me now.”

“Oh yeah?” Rainbow asked. “And how the hay do I know that we were friends in some other world?”

“Because,” Michael Grey said, “I know you well enough to know that you find me kneeling insulting. That you’ll get over it because you’re easy going and forget things as quickly as you’re insulted by them, unless it’s an insult aimed at one of your friends of course. I know that you’re ready to kick our faces in. You’ve got a lot of untapped energy, Dash, you always did. But most of all, you’re loyal.” He motioned to Pinkie. “So loyal that you can't conceive of a true friend betraying you, or you'd never have come up here with CPO – with Pinkie.”

Rainbow kept frowning, but there was something oddly earnest about the way the biped looked and sounded… and he seemed to have a general sense of what she was like. Glancing back at Pinkie… this other Pinkie… who was smiling encouragingly, she sighed.

“Fine,” she said. “The Princesses can kick your plot if you try anything, anyway.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” the Captain – Grey – said nonchalantly. “I’m also sure it won’t come to that.”

The Princesses Celestia and Luna were both hovering outside the unknown airship. Celestia was grateful that Luna was with her: as much as she was willing to face this… thing alone, it felt gratifying to have her sister with her.

“They've not made any sign yet,” Luna said quietly.

“No,” Celestia agreed. “But we must give them time.” She motioned to the cannons that lined the vessel. “They haven’t attacked: that, in and of itself, is a sign.”

Luna snorted derisively. “Perhaps a sign that they haven’t seen us, sister. Their ship is… well, it’s very big.”

“True, true,” Celestia said, inclining her head. “But then, you are very loud, when you choose to be.”

Luna chuckled, though it was short and lacking in mirth. “Perhaps. But I fear volume alone will not help should the occupants of that ship choose the path of violence.”

“We shall deal with that should the need arise,” Celestia said grimly, lowering her head. Then, something caught her eye – small and blue, heading for them from one of the ship’s platforms. “Which it might: something's coming.”

Luna tensed, her eyes immediately focused on the inbound object.

“Some sort of Griffon, perhaps?” she asked. “They could have built this vehicle.”

“No,” Celestia said, shaking her head. “Griffons power their air fleet with the enhanced steam produced from burning aurichalcum. It gives them tremendous speed, but it isn’t magic-based. They have no means of simply teleporting a ship…”

She trailed off as the small blue object got closer, and she recognised it. It was the cyan-coated, rainbow maned form of Rainbow Dash, one of Twilight’s friends. Celestia raised an eyebrow as the little mare reached the two Princesses, her expression serious.

“Uh, hi. Uh, your highnesses,” she said, waving awkwardly.

“Rainbow Dash,” Princess Luna said sternly. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Rainbow Dash took a deep breath. “The, uh… the guy in charge of this thing wants to speak with you.”

“Indeed?” Luna said, throwing a glance at Celestia.

The Solar Diarch frowned, but then nodded her assent.

“It is in our best interests to attempt a peaceful resolution,” she said quietly. “We will follow you, Rainbow.”

Rainbow nodded, before turning and flying back the way she had come. Luna and Celestia followed, Luna looking at Celestia with a frown.

“Are you sure about this, sister?” she asked, speaking quietly enough as they flew that only Celestia could hear her.

“We will not have the rest of our fleet here in a day,” Celestia replied quietly. “That is too much time. If we can make peace, find out who these beings are and what they want, that will save many lives. It will, at least, buy time.”

The first thing Rainbow Dash noticed when they returned to the airship’s hangar was that more than a few of the odd bipeds were staring at her. Many of them wore the jumpsuit that Rainbow had seen the others in, others wore the more formal two-piece uniform that the Captain had. There were also, to her surprise, more than a few other ponies milling about as well, all staring at her with equal confusion.

Princess Celestia narrowed her eyes. “Do you know who they are, or what they want?”

Rainbow shrugged. “They, uh, might be from the future?”

“The future?” Princess Celestia repeated. She shared a look with Princess Luna, who looked doubtful.

“Well, Pinkie’s onboard,” Rainbow said. “Except, uh, not, well, the Pinkie I left in Ponyville. She’s got short hair. And stuff.”

“And stuff,” Princess Luna repeated. “How very helpful.”

“But she knows me,” Rainbow continued, “and so did their Captain.” She paused, reflecting on his words. It had been scary, how much he’d really been able to say. “So… I dunno? Maybe they really are from the future?”

“It isn’t entirely impossible,” Princess Celestia said evenly, “but it is… unlikely. Time magic is exceptionally complicated.”

“Starting to wish Twi was here.”

“Indeed, she might have a better aptitude for the complexities at hand,” Princess Celestia said quietly. “Still, we shall soon discover for ourselves.”

“Yes,” Princess Luna agreed. “We shall.”

There was an awkward silence as the group continued through the hangar.

“Let’s not waste any more time, Ms Dash,” Princess Celestia finally said with a small smile. “We should -”

She paused, her eyebrow raising archly, as a sudden pink blur appeared at the far end of the hangar, racing across the large space before coming to a dead stop right in front of the Alicorns. There was a pause as the pink Earth Pony took in the two diarchs, and then she grinned.

“I knew we weren’t where we expected,” she said. “You guys look much better without the black armour.”

The two princesses looked at Rainbow with equally puzzled expressions (polite puzzlement in Celestia’s case and irritated confusion in Luna’s). The Pegasus could only shrug.

“Come on,” Pinkie said, motioning for them to follow her, “I know the perfect place to have a big, long, important talk.”

And just like that, she had run off, though slow enough that Rainbow and the Princesses could follow.

This… is too weird, Rainbow decided as she followed the strange version of Pinkie. She only hoped that Twilight was having a better time of all this.

Twilight was not having a better time of all this. In fact, Twilight was feeling thoroughly powerless.

She and the others hadn’t seen the Princesses stop the ship, so all they had seen was the giant unknown machine stop dead in the air.

“What do you think happened?” Rarity asked quietly from next to Twilight.

“I don’t know,” Twilight admitted. “I don’t think Rainbow could have stopped the whole thing herself, unless she sabotaged their engines.”

“If she’d stopped the engines, wouldn’t the thing be crashin’?” Applejack put in. “Otherwise, what’d be keepin’ it up?”

Twilight turned to look at Pinkie. “What do you know about that thing?”

“Nothing and lots at all,” Pinkie replied with a shrug. “It’s like… I think I have to run really concentrate. And even then I can’t do the thing I did before.”

Twilight stepped closer to her. “Maybe you should try. If we’re in danger…”

“We’re not,” Pinkie said at once, and her eyes glazed over. “The Excalibur class is built for heavy duty combat. It wasn’t built to take land, but it has a lot of firepower for taking on multiple tangoes at once.” She blinked. “I… that was helpful, right?”

“Tangoes?” Applejack commented.

Twilight only grinned. “That was helpful, Pinkie. Can you give us any more?”

“I…” Pinkie took a breath. “I’ll try.” She paused. “Conference Room Two.”

“Conference room two?” Twilight repeated. “What’s Conference room two?”

“The perfect place to bring the Princesses, of course,” Pinkie said with a grin. “It’s got nice comfy chairs, a water cooler, a nice table, a nice view -”

“The Princesses?” Twilight repeated, shocked. “What do you mean the Princesses?”

Pinkie blinked. “They’re aboard. They’re aboard the Endeavour.” She blinked again, her eyes widening in realisation. “Oh. Oh.”

Twilight didn’t speak. Her own eyes had become as round as dinner plates, and she could feel herself trembling.

This… this could be bad, she thought.

Lieutenant Commander John Reeves frowned as he approached Captain Grey. The Captain was in his ready room, staring out at the blue skies of… wherever they were, his fingers steepled in front of his face.

Reeves didn’t understand Grey. That wasn’t in and of itself unusual - the number of people or ponies who understood Grey was probably in the single figures, and that number had shrunk in recent times. Still, it was… disconcerting, to work with a man who had so many ideas and yet so little interest in sharing them with most of his crew.

“Sir,” Reeves said quietly.

“Mr Reeves,” Grey said, not turning to look at him. “What do you make of it?”

“What do you make of it, sir?” Reeves replied, looking out at the sky. “I mean… it’s definitely not the Empire. At least, not what we thought The Empire looked like…”

“It’s not the Empire,” Grey said definitively. “These two Alicorns didn’t match our intel. Rainbow Dash is here. The sky’s blue, for God’s sake.” He looked back at Reeves. “These are all pretty big indicators that we’re not where we thought we’d end up.”

“Then, uh,” Reeves said, running a hand through his short hair, “where have we ended up? Uh, sir?”

“The past, maybe,” Grey said, smiling coldly. “In which case we might be able to stop this before it starts.” He paused, before letting out a chuckle. “Or, alternatively, we might be somewhere else entirely.”

Reeves frowned. “Like where, sir?”

“Somewhere with a blue sky, Mr Reeves,” Grey said. “That’s a good enough place to start, don’t you think?”

Reeves sighed. “If you say so, Captain. If you ask me, this whole thing is a shade too freaky for me.”

“If you didn’t want to deal with ‘freaky’, Mr Reeves, you were born in the wrong time,” Grey said with a small smile. “But you weren’t. You were born now. For one reason or another, you are here, now. And so am I.” He looked back out of the window. “And so is Rainbow Dash.”

Reeves took a breath. “Do… do you really think that it’s her?”

“There’s no doubt it’s her,” Grey said at once. “CPO Pie said so, and she’s no fool, no matter the facade she chooses to put on for the rest of us.” He let out a sigh. “Still.” He looked back at Reeves. “Have our guests arrived yet?”

“They’re heading for conference room two, sir,” Reeves replied. “It’s the best we have for, uh, beings their size.”

“Very thoughtful, Commander,” Grey said. He turned away from the window and straightened his jacket. “Well, then. Let’s go meet royalty, Mr Reeves.”

Celestia took note of everything as she and Luna walked through the strange ship. The metal deck and bulkheads implied heavy use of technology, perhaps moreso than any culture Celestia knew. Luna was being similarly on-edge, though only Celestia was able to notice. Luna might have always worn her heart on her saddle more than Celestia did, but she had learnt restraint in showing it to everybeing.

Eventually, thanks to the direction of this strange, changed version of Pinkie Pie, they reached a room labelled ‘Conference Room Two’. Rainbow Dash looked as confused as they were.

“This is a great meeting place,” this new Pinkie was saying. “Come in, come in!”

She led them in, and sure enough, it seemed more than adequate for a meeting, with tables, chairs built for ponies (thought not quite ponies their size, though it would probably work out), and even glasses of water. The main conference table was shining black, made of a material somewhere between obsidian and glass.

“See?” the new Pinkie said. “It’s perfect!”

“Indeed, it seems adequate,” Luna said quietly. “Though I should prefer to speak sooner rather than later with whomever commands this ship.”

“Your wish is my command, Princess,” a new voice said.

Celestia and Luna turned to look at the entrance to the room, and sure enough, a biped in a two-piece blue uniform was standing in the entrance. He had his arms folded, and was looking between the two Princesses with an appraising expression.

“You must be the Captain of this ship,” Celestia said in greeting.

“Ah, that’s right,” the biped said, smiling. “I believe I have the honour of speaking with Princesses Celestia and Luna, I believe?”

“That’s correct,” Celestia said evenly. “And whom do we have the pleasure of speaking to?”

The biped smiled. “I’m Captain Michael Grey, and this is the Endeavour, my ship.” He sighed, steepling his fingers. “I’m sure you’ve got a lot of questions, and I’ll try to answer them as best I can.”

“I have only one pressing enquiry,” Luna said at once. “Who are you, and why are you here?”

Captain Grey clapped his hands together. “Well, that’s the big one, isn’t it? Or, technically, the big two, but I suppose they’re part and parcel of the same gig for you, so…”

“I’d caution you against being overly clever with us, creature,” Luna scowled. “You have invaded the sovereign land of Equestria with a weapon of war. We are within our rights to engage you in battle and destroy you for that alone.”

“Well, yes, you probably are,” Captain Grey said, “but you really don’t need to. We didn’t mean to ‘invade’ you.” He winced. “Well, we kind of meant to invade someone, but not you.”

“That makes no sense,” Luna said.

“Sister,” Celestia said, holding up a wing. Luna inclined her head, and Celestia affixed Grey with a stare. “Explain, Captain.”

Grey took a deep breath. “What you have to understand is, we’re not from your world. We’re from another one. Another universe, actually.” At Celestia and Luna’s blank expressions, he sighed. “Look, it’s difficult to explain -”

“Daring Do and the World in the Mirror,” Rainbow Dash put in. Everybeing in the room looked at her, and she chuckled embarrassedly. “Uh, sorry. In World in the Mirror, Daring Do falls into a magic mirror that transports her to a world like ours, but different. Like, people have bad goatees and they’re evil when they’re supposed to be good, that sort of thing.”

Celestia blinked - suddenly, she could see the mirror of herself again, standing behind Captain Grey. She was mouthing the same words: help me, help me.

Captain Grey chuckled. “The concept is fairly accurate, actually.” His expression sobered. “I’m afraid that we’re off course from where we intended to be.”

“Where did you intend to be?” Luna asked, narrowing her eyes.

Help me, the mirror image mouthed again.

Grey sighed. “A place called the Celestial Dominion. An aggressive Empire, bent on the extermination of my people.”

Celestia felt her blood run cold. Help. The mirror was pleading, tears running down her eyes.

“Who are they?” Celestia asked.

Grey took another breath. “You’re sure you wanna know?”

“I’m sure,” Celestia said, speaking as evenly as she could.

Grey nodded. “Alright then.”

He tapped the table, and a display popped into existence. He tapped the display a few times.

“Computer,” he finally said. “Display three dimensional image of the Empress.”

And then the image of an Alicorn appeared before Celestia and Luna. She was tall, with a cruel smile, red eyes, black armour, and a flowing mane coloured in different shades of grey and blue.

But what really caught Celestia’s attention was her face. It was a face Celestia knew very well, because she saw it every day in the mirror, and she could see it on the hallucinatory mare still standing behind Grey, mouthing help me again and again.

“Empress Celestia of the Celestial Dominion,” Captain Grey said evenly. “You see? We were aiming for Equestria, just not necessarily this one.”

Celestia took a breath, steadying herself. The other her had vanished. She exchanged a look with Luna, whose eyes were wide as saucers, before looking at Grey.

“Tell me everything.”

Journey from the Unknown

The Prism of Infinity

Five

Journey To The Unknown

Written by

Jed R.

Doctor Fluffy.

“We are creating a new way to fly.”
Captain Gabriel Lorca, Star Trek: Discovery – “Context is for Kings”

ARRO/AMMO Command Subcommittee HQ, London, England. May 10th, 2040.

The headquarters that had been set up for Aerial Rapid Response Operations and Aerial Marine Military Operation were, in all honesty, shit. At least, they were in Captain Michael Grey’s illustrious opinion.

It was a poxy little muddy-brown building, entirely nondescript in any way, sat amongst a bunch of other equally nondescript little buildings on a nondescript street. The building looked like it had once been some sort of standard government office, repurposed for ARRO’s use in the most cost-cutting way possible. Why they’d cut costs when their economy – and indeed, their money – might not exist if ARRO failed was something that he’d never understand.

Sometimes, Michael Grey thought, I feel like I’m the only damn person taking this war seriously.

That, of course, wasn’t true. He knew that everyone in ARRO, indeed, everyone in the UN task force dedicated to this war’s progress, was trying their damnedest to find the way to win.

But, Michael thought with a small, cocky smile, none of them are me, are they?

He brushed his uniform jacket down, trying not to let the dismal, overcast day get him down. After all: he had a presentation to make to the ARRO Command Subcommittee, and there would be quite a few people and ponies on that committee that were rather… dubious about him, if he was being generous. Dubious about him, dubious about his methods, dubious about whether his proposals and ideas were worth spit…

There were, truthfully, a lot of odds against him. Still, he had no time to worry about other people’s opinions of him, or about the odds.

He had to win the war.

“What you’re suggesting,” Lyra Heartstrings said evenly, “is madness.”

Lyra Heartstrings was a mint-green Unicorn mare, hard-eyed with just the tiniest flare of idealism sticking out of the mess of responsibilities, clad in a severely cut suit and looking for all the world like the most dedicated politician out there: fitting for the assigned representative of the Free Equestrian movement. Grey nodded slowly at her admonishment, even as his eyes swept over the others in the room. There was Admiral Mia Stone, a stern, forty-something woman with a shaved head and a scowling face, clad in ARRO’s blue jumpsuit uniform. Next to her, Admiral Argent Wind, a stern grey Earth Pony in his own blue uniform, and further along, General Mikhail Petronov, a scarred and taciturn Russian officer who had been one of AMMO’s best assets almost from the organisation’s inception. Along the line was Commodore Daniel Romero, an older American man who had been in the navy before transferring to ARRO (and looked not dissimilar to Grey, with the same shade of piercing blue eyes under greying black hair). Then there was the beech-red Commodore Errant Flight of the Pegasi Air Brigades, a pony who had proven time and again that he was the best flyer in the fleet.

Apart from one, Grey thought, but he dismissed that thought.

All in all, these were tough people, tough ponies: ARRO’s best. The world’s best.

Which is why I have to convince them that my way is right, Grey thought.

“I know it’s a stretch,” he said, speaking calmly and slowly. “But you have to understand: all our projections show that when the Barrier hits Europe, that’s it.” He began pacing in front of their desk, meeting each member of the committee's eyes, one at a time. “Landfall for the Dominion’s armies. Bitter fighting as the Barrier consumes everything. Chaos.”

“It is a terrifying thought,” Stone said with a nod, “but your suggestion is -”

“Is the only way to end this in a way that we find favourable,” Grey cut her off. “It is the only way that we end up being anything more than slaves to the Dominion.”

“You’re being very alarmist, Captain,” Lyra said. Her expression was cold, but not angry. “There are several things still in the works -”

“I know,” Grey interrupted dismissively. “Projects Inferno, Crucible, Agamemnon… but none of those are ready. None of them will be ready, without a breakthrough.”

“Even assuming you got there,” Petronov said, his voice stern and deep, “and even assuming you weren’t all disintegrated or melted or whatever else could happen, what could you do?” He meant forward. “An ARRO airship – even one as formidable as Endeavour – is no match for the Selenic Knight. Certainly not for the Empress.”

“He’s not wrong,” Argent Wind agreed quietly. “If even half of what we’ve had reported is true -”

“Powerful as she is,” Grey said, “she’s one figure, and she’s not the source of the Barrier. If we destroy Canterlot -”

“Destroy Canterlot?” Errant Flight cut in. “You’re talking about slaughtering a city.”

“I’m talking about destroying a target that houses the main military power of our enemy,” Grey retorted. “This is a war of annihilation, Commodore, and – if I may be bold – your people will be better off dead than continuing to be slaves to the Dominion.”

Flight snorted. “Easy for you to say.”

“No,” Romero put in. “Not easy for him to say. Many millions of our kind are already slaves: the Repos.” He looked at Flight, who had the decency to look abashed. “In this, we share common ground, Commodore Flight. Both our peoples are in danger of eternal slavery to the Empress. Death’s preferable in my eyes: what about you?”

There was a brief pause as Flight considered this. Finally, he nodded slowly.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said. “Maybe they are better off dead.” He scowled. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“You don’t,” Romero agreed, “but there’s very little about any of this to like.”

“Destroying Canterlot aside,” Heartstrings said, “what you’re suggesting is still insanely risky. Your ship won’t survive in the Dominion.”

“Better to sacrifice one ship to end the threat of the Barrier now than a thousand in the battle to come,” Grey said quietly. “The enemy’s forces will no doubt be overwhelming when they finally hit.”

“Which is why we need every ship here, fighting the Dominion's forces!” Argent Wind said vehemently.

“The Endeavour is a good ship,” Grey said, “but it’s one ship. Captain Hansen on Endurance has just as much flight experience in her ship, and there’s still the older vessels to consider. I know for a fact that Captain Hill of the Mjolnir has at least eighteen confirmed kills -”

“That’s not the point!” Wind cut him off. “An Excalibur-class ship is a serious investment. It is the pinnacle of our military forces!”

“And that is why it has to be the Endeavour that goes,” Grey said. “Because we’re the best ship in the fleet.”

Romero laughed. “Modest, aren’t you, Grey?”

Grey simply inclined his head. “I’m just being truthful.” His expression hardened. “I’ve got two of Celestia’s own closest allies from before the Dominion days on my ship. They know where to go, where to hit.”

Heartstrings scowled. “You think Twilight will still know where to hit?”

“Specialist Sparkle is one of my best officers, ma’am,” Grey retorted, trying to keep calm in the face of the insult. Some people – some ponies – just can’t get their heads out of their arses. “I trust her to do the job.”

There was a momentary pause as the various officers took note of his tone and his words. Grey gave a small, triumphant smile. He had them.

“We will consider this,” Heartstrings said after a moment. “You’re dismissed, Captain.”

Grey saluted, and turned, leaving immediately.

He definitely had them.

UES Endeavour, E011.

Twilight Sparkle’s desk in the main engine room of the Endeavour was an exercise in ordered chaos, or possibly chaotic order. Truth be told, Grey didn’t quite get the ‘ordered chaos’ thing – he liked his order… well, orderly. The rest of the engine room was orderly enough: the primary part consisted of a giant Equusite crystal, which – with enough magical charge, provided by a crew of trained Unicorns – was powerful enough to do…

… well. Everything they needed it too.

She didn’t look up as he approached. Didn’t even address him.

“They gave us the go-ahead,” Grey said quietly. No sense prolonging it.

“Of course they did,” Twilight replied curtly, tapping a control. “They want the war to end before the bedlam America turned into comes here. Who wouldn’t want that?”

“If it’s so obvious, how come they fought me tooth and nail?” Grey asked, chuckling.

“Because like every politician in history,” Twilight said, still not looking at him, “they are blinkered, foolish, and preoccupied with their own take on how to win this thing.”

“Aren’t we all?” Grey smirked.

Twilight finally looked up, meeting his gaze. After a moment, she smiled as well.

“The difference,” she said, “is that our way will work.”

“Glad you think so,” Grey said. “When will you be ready?”

“That depends on a few things,” Twilight replied, returning her attention to her computer. “But I should be prepared to try in no more than twenty four hours.”

“Good,” Grey said. “I want us to go in forty eight. Gives everyone time to decide if they want to join us on this suicide mission or not.”

Twilight's eyes glinted with something Grey couldn’t pinpoint. “You’re generous.”

“I’m practical,” Grey retorted. “Where we’re going, I want people who know the stakes and accept them.”

Twilight nodded. “If you say so, Captain.” She paused. “Are you ready for this?”

“We’ve gone over the plan in detail a number of times, Commander,” Grey replied, smirking. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Discussing the theory and actually doing it -” Twilight began.

“Specialist Sparkle,” Grey cut her off. “We are going to Equestria. We are going to execute the plan. And we are going to – finally – have the advantage in this war. If you have any doubts…”

He trailed off, giving her a pointed expression. After a moment, she shook her head.

“No doubts, sir,” she said quietly. “This will work.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Grey said, “because we go in forty eight hours.”

Forty eight hours later, Captain Grey was sat in his command chair, checking his readouts. All around him, his crew were at their stations, inputting commands. He smiled, finding himself feeling a sense of anticipation.

This, he thought, is the first step on the road to victory.

He tapped the intercom. “All stations, this is the Captain. Stand by for teleport jump.”

“Hangar deck standing by,” Lieutenant Commander Lightning Dust’s voice spoke. Grey nodded

“Engineering deck ready,” Twilight called in. “All systems primed for jump. And I’m ready.”

“Main crew deck, okey dokey lokey!” CPO Pinkie Pie added. “Got everyone we could strapped snug as a bug in a rug, ready for action! Even chained the toilets up so they don’t spill!”

“Good to know, CPO Pie,” Grey said with a snort. Count on Pinkie Pie to bring absurdity to the most serious moments. He found it annoying, and yet somehow endearing at the same time. Which, he supposed, was the point.

A few more decks reported in, and finally Lieutenant Commander Reeves turned and nodded to Grey.

“All decks ready, sir,” he said. “We’re set.”

“Alright,” Grey said, clapping his hands together and standing. “All decks. We are about to engage.”

He looked at the helm officer, Lieutenant McIntyre, who inputted a command into his station.

“We have released control to engineering deck,” he reported. “Standing by.”

“Co-ordinates for teleport jump inputted into the drive computer,” Twilight’s voice came through. “Energising. Going dark and waiting for final command.”

Grey held his breath for a moment. This was it.

“Go,” he ordered.

There was a microscopic pause, and then suddenly all hell broke loose. The entire ship jolted forward, pitching officers from their seats. Grey was thrown forward, landing heavily on his side, and he grimaced in pain.

“REPORT!” he bellowed.

No one was at their stations to tell him anything, and so for a moment, pandemonium reigned on the Endeavour’s bridge. After a couple of minutes, McIntyre managed to reach his station, and he tapped a few commands in.

“GPS is gone, sir, I can confirm we have moved,” he said at once, inputting more commands. “Trying to confirm location… wait…”

He looked up, out of the front observation window. Grey followed his gaze, and soon the rest of the bridge crew followed suit.

The sky was blue. The most perfect shade of blue, like every cliche sunny day everyone had ever seen. The few clouds in the sky were the sort of white, fluffy things you saw in cartoons, rather than the wispy, dull things Grey and his crew were used to.

Grey took a breath. “Navigational report.”

“We’re checking landmarks for identifiable features, sir,” McIntyre said, “but -”

“Captain Grey,” came an irate voice in an Afrikaner accent, “this is Kraber. Report to the engineering deck immediately. Please.”

Grey raised one eyebrow at the voice’s tone, before turning to Reeves. “Find out where we are before I get back, Mr Reeves.”

“Aye, sir,” Reeves said evenly, moving over to McIntyre’s console.

When Grey got to the engineering deck, they’d pulled Twilight out of the column, gently as possible. Dr Viktor Kraber, the chief medical officer, was there too, his bushy beard bristling, his pale blue medical uniform decidedly unkempt.

“There you are!” he said when he saw Grey. “I can’t believe you let her do this! What the absolute fok, Captain?!”

“What happened?” Grey asked one of the engineers, deliberately ignoring Kraber.

“I don’t know, sir!” the engineer said. “During the jump she just… she just went stiff, stopped responding.”

“Sir,” Kraber said, scowling, “she’s fokkin’ catatonic.”

“Catatonic?” Grey repeated, frowning as he finally turned to address Grey. “That’s never happened in the test jumps.”

“This was much further than the test jumps,” Kraber retorted, scowling. “I already told you, sir, that she’d strained her nervous system doing these things.”

“She knew the risks,” Grey said quietly.

“Did she?!” Kraber asked scathingly.

“Better than you, Dr Kraber,” Grey snapped, looking him in the eye. “Or are you seriously suggesting that Twilight Sparkle miscalculated the potential effects of her invention?”

“I’m suggesting that Twilight Sparkle has a history of self-destructive behaviours that prevent her from adequately taking her own health into consideration. Anyone that knows her would know that,” Kraber retorted hotly, “and instead of taking that into account, reeling her back before self-care made its way to the prestigious spot of last in her list while planning the design and use of your new favourite toy, you decided to enable her self destructive insanity!”

Grey scowled, before taking a breath to calm himself down. “Get her to sickbay, find out what her situation is. Get me a report as soon as you can.”

Kraber looked like he was warring between his training and the desire to punch Grey in the face, but Grey didn’t even wait for him to decide. He had better things to do.

When Grey returned to the bridge, he found it a mess of controlled chaos. Reeves was still standing by McIntyre’s console, checking the readouts.

“Sir,” he said, “we have a fix on a city that matches Canterlot’s profile… by eighty two percent.” He looked worried. “There’s a lot of discrepancies, sir.”

“Set course for Canterlot, best speed,” Grey said at once, taking his seat. “I want weapons at ready ASAP.”

“Yes, sir,” Reeves said at once, moving to his console and tapping out some commands. He frowned. “Sir, there’s a lot of discrepancies. Visual scans aren’t picking up any of the barracks or industrial areas that should be there. We -”

A sudden beeping started, and Grey looked at Reeves, who was looking at a different part of his readout with wide eyes.

“Contact off starboard, sir,” he said.

Grey frowned. “Enemy ship?”

“No, sir, too small,” Reeves said, checking his readout. “Might be a Pegasus scout.”

“I see,” Grey said, nodding slowly. He paused, considering his options, before making a decision. “Deploy Point Defence Turrets.”

Reeves nodded, tapping out some commands. “Aye, sir, activating PDT.”

Grey took a deep breath. “Give me a report on damage as and when, Mr Reeves.” He turned to McIntyre. “Anything on scope?”

“Canterlot is still dead ahead, sir,” McIntyre replied. “Estimate one hour until firing range at current speed.”

“One hour?” Grey repeated, scowling. He stood up, looking over McIntyre’s shoulder. “Want to explain why it’s going to take that long in the fastest airship mankind ever built, Mr McIntyre?”

“Engines are a little stressed from our jump, sir,” McIntyre replied, frowning. “In fact, a lot of systems are out of phase with each other.”

“How long ‘til we’re back at optimum, Lieutenant?” Grey asked.

“Hard to say, sir,” McIntyre replied, shrugging apologetically. “We don’t have a full damage report yet.”

Grey rubbed the bridge of his nose, before turning to Reeves. “At least tell me weapons are primed and ready for when we reach Canterlot.”

“We’ve got everything but the kitchen sink loaded, sir,” Reeves assured him with a nod. “Particle cannons standing by, missiles loaded, and shields at maximum.”

“Good,” Grey said, turning to look out of the window, clasping his hands behind his back. “Glad to know something’s at optimum today.”

This was not going quite how he’d expected, he had to admit, but under the circumstances –

“Captain?” a familiar voice came from behind him, interrupting his thought process. “There’s somepony here you’ll want to see.”

Grey sighed, not turning around. “CPO Pie, how many times do I have to -”

And then he turned around.

Standing in front of him was a cyan Pegasus, a rainbow-coloured mane unruly around her head, her eyes narrowed at him in what could only be suspicion.

Rainbow Dash, he thought, unsure how to react. Under the circumstances, there was only one thing he could say.

“What the hell.”

Author's Note

This has been mostly complete for ages so I thought I’d finish it off and get it out here.

Prologue: The Last Hours of the Old World

The Prism of Infinity

Prologue
The Last Hours of the Old World

Written by
Jed R.

Editors/Pre-Readers
RoyalPsycho
TheIdiot
Sledge115
VoxAdam
Doctor Fluffy

There was Eru, the One, who in Arda is called Ilúvatar; and he made first the Ainur, the Holy Ones, that were the offspring of his thought, and they were with him before aught else was made.
J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Ainulindalë.

“Together we’re gonna change the world, man.”
Kevin Flynn to CLU 2, Tron Legacy.

In the beginning…

There was fire in the air, smoke that filled the sky, blotted out the burning mountains. All around could be heard the screams of the dead and dying, as the final moments of a war that had shaken the world drew to a close. But though the battle had yet to be decided, there was little hope left in those who fought to preserve this place. They knew the truth.

The world was broken, and nothing was going to fix it. It was the end: all the spirits all knew it, the wisest had proclaimed it, and after millennia of building this world and overseeing that which was bright and beautiful, their time here was finally over. Leaving was the only choice they had left, much as it pained so many of them to abandon what had been a labour of love.

But among all the spirits who fled, there was one who remained.

Hope may have faded, but after all we have suffered, all the work we have done, everything we have fought to make, it can't end like this.

In the last shaping chamber in the world, a single spirit worked to finish her final gift to a world long since abandoned by most of her people.

The chamber was decrepit, damaged, but still in far better condition than any she had seen elsewhere. A testament to the horrors they had encountered. In it, all the focusing crystals and arcane cants she would ever require were still preserved, ready for her to use in creating this, her final gift to the world. Around her, golden wisps of light flew, twisted and spun, creating the image of a thousand rivers of light floating in the air.

Even the raw stuff of life is beautiful, she found herself thinking, a smile gracing her face. It faded slightly. And yet in such beauty, there is frailty… and the shadow of darkness. Must all things be thus?

This particular spirit had long since chosen the form to which she would appear to the creatures she and her kin had made. A red mane flowed from the crown of her pale head, past a slender horn and down an elegant neck, brushing against two long, beautiful wings on her back. Four hooves on elegant, slender legs tapped anxiously. Her horn glowed as she manipulated the life energies that swirled through the chamber.

It was ironic that she was working on creating beings in the image that she had chosen for herself. A part of her briefly wondered if it was vanity, but she dismissed the thought.

“Faust?” a voice called through the shaping chamber.

The spirit paid the call no mind. Her work now was beginning to take shape: three golden spheres of light appeared before her, each one beginning to make the faint hum, the music, that was the core of all being.

“Faust, art thou here?!” the voice called again.

The spirit named Faust rolled her eyes. “Through here, Uriel.”

Another spirit entered the room. Unlike her, he had already reverted to his base form: two arms, the ghostly image of wings and a white robe, with no visible features. He floated along gently, no visible legs propelling him. His voice echoed as he spoke.

“What art thou still doing here?” he asked her. “The decree has been made. Nathaniel is making his last gambit now. Those of us who remain have been commanded to flee.”

“We may have been commanded to flee,” she retorted, her expression irritated, “but I will not. And I am not alone in this conviction.”

Uriel sighed. “Tabbris is one thing: he was always bound to choose his own path by the very nature of what he was and is. But thou art one of the shapers. Thine expertise -”

“Mine expertise hath clearly failed to save this world thus far,” she said derisively. A failure I must bear, and bear forever. Her tone turned to one of determination. “But there is still much to play for, and I have not played mine last hand yet.”

Uriel’s attention turned to the three spheres of energy. “New forms.”

“Indeed,” she said, smiling at him. “To take our place when we finally abandon this world to its fate.”

She waved one wing over the spheres, and three translucent figures appeared. Two of them were at least six feet tall, the third was slightly shorter. Though little could be made of the figures, the fact that each was endowed with a long, slender horn and wings tucked neatly at their sides was obvious.

“Thou hast made them in thine own image,” Uriel said softly.

“We all made our sons and daughters in our own images,” Faust replied gently. “These are no different.”

“Most of us did not make them so close,” Uriel pointed out. “These things… if the aura they present is truthful, they have nigh the power of a spirit themselves.”

“Hardly,” Faust scoffed. “True, they art more powerful than the mortal beings we have laboured to make, which is as they are meant to be, but they -”

She paused, the colour draining from her face. A great emptiness opened up within her: the same feeling that always happened when one of their kind was unmade, when something so unnatural, so abhorrent to the way that things should be came to pass.

“I feel it too,” Uriel said quietly, and despite him lacking a face, she knew that he, too, was as horrified as she.

Faust fell to her knees, tears spilling from her eyes. “Nathaniel… no…”

Uriel slowly floated over to her, before resting a shining hand on her shoulder. “He is gone, but he has succeeded. Dost thou feel it, Faust? Sorath’s power…”

“Broken,” Faust said, her voice cracked, “but not banished forever.”

Uriel paused. “You still intend to remain? Even now?”

“I intend to finish what I started, now more than ever,” Faust said, pushing herself back to her feet. She turned back to the translucent figures.

“They are different from the others thou hast made,” Uriel said quietly. “The ponies are small and skittish, not gifted with magicks.”

Faust sighed. “They will be. Even as I make these three, I have set the fire of magic in the blood of all my children in this world.”

Uriel seemed taken aback, moving away from her. “All of them?”

Faust laughed. “Even the plainest of their kind will be gifted strength beyond their size and the power to manipulate the soil to gift their people with food. And others shall be given wings, to rival even our brother’s Griffons, and I shall name them Pegasus to honour our friend’s courage. Others still, the Unicorns, shall be granted innate magicks, power to create wonders. And within them all shall be bound the spark that shall grant them the chance to grow into more”

“They will be first among the races,” Uriel said, his tone now sour. “That breaks the pact of equality we all shared.”

Faust glanced at him, but she understood his point. They had all had ideas of what sort of life to shape in this world, but they had all agreed to create races that were equal, so that no one spirit's creation might dominate another’s.

“Dost thou think I have not considered that? That I had so little consideration for all our siblings’ works – for thy works – that I would forget it, even in this desperate hour?” she asked him. He turned away from her. “You feared it so, didn’t you?”

“Already thou hast taken actions I would not have said that thou wouldst were another to have asked me,” he replied. “It seems clear that I know thee not as well as I thought I did.”

“And yet thou knowest me better than that, dear Uriel, I promise thee,” she retorted. She gave him a reassuring smile. “Fear thee not, oldest comrade. Even as I plan to grant magic to the mine own creation, I will in turn gift new powers to the other peoples of the world. Our sisters’ Qil will be granted magicks to match mine Unicorns, and the Griffons shall be granted the fire of valour, unmatched among other peoples, so that fear may never rule their hearts. The same will be true of all kindred upon this world.” She turned to look back at her creations. “And to each, I will grant a measure of our blood, our power, so that among them may rise rulers who will become the guardians of this world, as these, mine Alicorns, will be to mine little ponies.”

Uriel shook his head. “Faust… I confess, I fear that thou begins to tread the path that led Primus to damnation.”

Faust chuckled. “So thou believes so little in me that thou would compare me to the first corrupt? Really, Uriel.” She looked back at him. “Dost thou truly not know me better?”

Uriel sighed. “I do. Which is why this… this meddling worries me. Thou hast never sought lordship, godhood, amongst the beings we have created.”

“When did I say that I desired lordship of these beings?” Faust asked, raising an eyebrow. “When I have completed my work, these beings shall be left to their own choices, and never know of me save as a dream, a myth.” She chuckled again. “Primus desired lordship, to make things and to make them his slaves, to worship his being and to abase themselves before him, and so was justly cast out. I only desire to leave this world with something to protect it when we finally leave.”

“Protect it?” Uriel repeated. He paused, before sighing. “Sorath.”

“Nathaniel broke him but did not end him,” Faust said quietly. “Dost thou not feel it, brother? We knew when Nathaniel was unmade… but we do not feel the void where once Sorath sat.”

“No,” Uriel agreed. “Sorath endures. I feel it. But it does not follow that he will return to the strength he once had.”

Faust sighed. “Brother, thou dost love thy work, dost thou not? Wouldst thou risk its safety for the hope that Sorath, whose determination to endure and prevail was always greater than any of ours, will remain content to be diminished as he is now?”

Uriel did not answer for a long moment, and Faust nodded, content with her victory. She returned her attention to the translucent figures, and her golden magicks began to conglomerate in the air, streams of the energy moving to infuse the spheres that contained these creatures’ essence.

“These things are meant to replace us,” Uriel said after a moment, “the first Guardians of the new world that will spring forth when we leave. Is that so?”

“Thou speakest the truth of it,” Faust agreed.

“What roles will they take?” Uriel asked.

Faust glanced back at him. “Dost thou intend to help?”

Uriel sighed, before suddenly shifting. Then, where once the glowing being had floated, a tall, canine beast stood. It had long, elegant muzzle, pointed ears and grey-white fur covering its body, along with a simple white tunic.

“If thou art remaining for a time,” the wolf Uriel said quietly, “it seems fitting that I should, too. At least… for a time.”

Faust shook her head. “Uriel, do not -”

“I will not abandon thee,” Uriel said to her. He shrugged. “Besides: we cannot be acting against the One’s plans, or He would make it known and punish us thusly.”

Faust chuckled. “The others will be angry with thee.”

“Then let them be,” Uriel shrugged. “Besides: if thy children shalt have the powers thou speakest of, it seems fitting that my children shalt be given the gifts that I would wish to give them.”

Faust nodded. “So be it, friend. Then, when I am done here, together we shall labour to give these gifts to all kindred, and hope.”

Uriel nodded. “Hope. Yes, it will be nice to have hope again. The days have been dark.”

“They will be dark again,” Faust said sadly. “But our work will ensure there will be a new dawn hereafter.”

“Perhaps,” Uriel said. “I shalt await thee.”

And with that, Uriel departed the shaping chamber, leaving Faust alone. She turned back to the translucent figures of the Alicorns, and smiled, feeling a wave of hope that she hadn’t since before Sorath had turned to madness. The golden spheres were glowing with such intensity that even she found it difficult to gaze upon them, and the translucent figures were now more solid than before. These were the projections of what would emerge when the time was just and right.

“I hope that Uriel is right,” she said quietly, though she didn’t know whether she was speaking to herself, to the spheres, or to something else unseen, “and that our father does not begrudge me this. But if making thee makest me as much a betrayer and outcast as Primus proved, then so be it. But I must believe that intent is all, and that where Primus’ pride led to his fall, mine love shall lead only to greater things.”

By now the translucent figures had gained enough definition that individual colours and features could be seen. With a smile, Faust turned to the smallest of the three first. A midnight blue coat and regal blue mane greeted her, as did soft, kind features.

“Thou art Luna,” Faust said to this mare.

“I am Luna,” the figure of the mare repeated, her voice soft and melodic, echoing slightly.

“Thine place is at the side of thine elder sister,” Faust said to her.

“My place is at the side of mine elder sister,” the figure of Luna repeated.

“Thou shalt be her moral compass, her heart’s guide, her conscience,” Faust said. “Thou shalt be the light of her life.”

“I shall be her moral compass, her heart’s guide, her conscience,” Luna repeated, her tone warming slightly and the edges of her lips curving upward slightly. “I shall be the light of her life.”

“Listen to me now,” Faust said.

“I hear thee,” Luna said.

“To thou, I entrust the moon, and the realm of dreams,” Faust told the image, “so that the beings under thy protection will sleep well and fear no darkness. Dost thou understand?”

“I understand,” Luna said softly.

Faust nodded. “Then sleep, and await thy appointed time.”

The translucent figure disappeared, and the golden sphere glowed all the brighter. Faust nodded again, before turning to the middle sibling, an alabaster mare with a multicoloured mane flowing down her face.

“Thou art Celestia,” she said to this figure.

“I am Celestia,” the figure of the Alicorn repeated.

“Thou art guardian, guide, mentor, protector,” Faust told her.

“I am guardian, guide, mentor, protector,” the image of Celestia repeated, her echoing voice kind and reassuring even before she was truly made.

Faust nodded. “Thou shalt be even tempered, kind and firm, wise and compassionate, strong when needed, a firmament for those you lead to gather around.”

“I shall be even tempered, kind and firm, wise and compassionate, strong when needed, a firmament for those I lead to gather around,” Celestia repeated, almost nodding to the words, her expression warming incrementally as her mind responded to the words.

“Now harken to my words,” Faust said quietly. “For thou art entrusted the Sun. Thou art charged with the light and hope of the world, a task thou must not fail.”

“I understand,” Celestia’s image said.

“Good,” Faust said. “Then sleep, and await thy appointed time.”

Celestia’s image vanished, and the sphere containing what would be her glowed. Finally, Faust turned to the last sibling, a mare in shades of green and brown, a mane the colour of the golden leaves of autumn flowing around her, and red eyes.

“And thou…” she said to this mare. “Thou art Gaia.”

“I am Gaia,” the mare repeated.

Faust took a deep breath. This mare would be given at once the smallest charge and the largest.

“Thou art a mare of compassion,” she said, “but also of neutrality, for all the world is thy charge, and thou must see all sides of it.”

“I am a mare of compassion, but also of neutrality,” the image of Gaia repeated, her voice deep, powerful, but also measured and soft, “for all the world is mine charge, and I must see all sides of it.”

“Thou art the watcher of life, the overseer of decay, and to thee both the joys of spring and the frosts of winter art thy task,” Faust said quietly. “To predator and prey alike, thou art a silent guardian, never to intervene unless needed.”

“I am the watcher of life, the overseer of decay, and to me both the joys of spring and the frosts of winter are my task,” Gaia repeated. “To predator and prey alike, I am a silent guardian, never to intervene unless needed.”

Faust sighed. “Now harken well.” She paused. “All the world will be thy charge. There is a natural order, and when it is upset, it is thy place to correct it and to repair what hast been broken. Thou shalt hold no titles, but instead be a wanderer, for all the world will need thy ministrations. Dost thou understand?”

“I do,” Gaia replied.

“Good,” Faust said heavily. “Then sleep, and await thy appointed time.”

And Gaia’s figure, too, disappeared into the golden sphere. Feeling drained, Faust almost slumped, but she kept to her feet, just. She knew she had expended much of her energy in this endeavour, but she also knew, in her heart, that it had been worth it. She gave a soft smile at the three spheres, glowing away happily.

“Good night, children,” she whispered softly. “When thou awaken, a new world will await thee. May you find it a better one than ours.” She sighed. “Rest well.”

And with that, she turned aside and trotted slowly out of the cavern, leaving her ‘children’ alone and asleep. There were many labours yet ahead, and even with Uriel’s aid it would be a long time before she was done.

The future awaited.

Author's Note

And so it begins...

So yeah, it seems I can’t stay away from this kind of story. So sue me 😜 I hope that, as it unfolds, you come to enjoy it. You’ll probably notice similarities with other things I’ve worked on: that’s deliberate, as I’m using this story as an engine of exploration to take certain ideas or themes to whatever conclusions I see merit in.

‘Til next time, all.