Mankind Triumphant: The Last Six

by BlueDWarrior

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark, Alternate Universe, Other, Adventure, Princess Celestia, Human, Main 6, Princess Luna, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 13456

Based upon the Mankind Triumphant short in Brave New Universe, set roughly 500 years afterward.

Loosely based upon the Mankind Triumphant short from TCB: Brave New Universe. Set 500 years after the events of the story. A group of Reclaimers set out on a nominally standard recovery mission. Go to an old abandoned laboratory, pick up some data and possibly some equipment, hand it off to the client, and go on about your lives.

Things rarely go as planned, as a discovery within said laboratory has the potential to turn the world upside-down and inside-out.

(05/10/2013) -- Minor update for re-tagging

Published 2012-08-11 16:14:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-08-11 16:14:02 UTC

Chapter 1: Eternity

=== Mankind Triumphant: The Last Six ===

== Chapter 1: Eternity ==

Time?
What is it truly?
Is it just the linear progression of events?
Is it, as one popular television character put it, a ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff?
Is it just the perception of creatures that need to organize what they experience, into some kind of mental file?
I thought I had these questions answered to some extent...
Turns out, I haven't even started asking them until now...

Luna sat at a short tea table; wondering briefly, how she would have never thought to design something like this before that day. She floated over to the patio in her pavilion, looking somewhat wistfully into the skies; a motion she repeated innumerable times over the last few centuries previous. Her current body was some strange mix of solid and ethereal, as were most of the spirits stuck in what Inter-Dimensional Spirit Bureaucracy delightfully termed Purgatory.

Typically, all beings that could be killed somehow entered the cycle of rebirth. Which basically meant that if you were good enough, you got bumped up a plane of existence when you were reincarnated. If you were evil enough: you were busted down to a lower plane or sent to a special Punishment Realm (most humans called it Hell or Hades for some reason). If you weren't filled with enough virtue or vice, well one of two things happened. One, you were just reincarnated into a mostly equivalent world with a mostly erased memory and you started over. Two, you were housed in a Rehabilitation Realm, where you learned whatever it is you were supposed to learn before you died, and then was allowed to reincarnate in the same tier of worlds normally. There existed a fourth and special category though: one that Princess Luna, the Six Bearers of Harmony, and every other living thing in Equestria from that day found themselves.

"Four hundred, ninety-nine years, eleven months, and three-hundred and sixty days ago. Funny how I'd still be using our regular calendar system after all this time," Luna started as she sat her current book down while looking over her pavilion. She decided to make do with the time as best she could, reading the various works of sapient species copied and collected over the eons, she much enjoyed the Yarinal playwrights form Dimension 4005/World 299348. She also found it strange how she could remember things with such precision, chalking it up to the nature of being a soul without a physical brain at this point.

"It's been nearly ten years since we were all together in my pavilion," she said out loud, beating her ethereal wings in the non-existent air. "The bureaucrats were nice enough to give us soul-bodies that were pretty much the same as our original bodies... but nothing can be the same. Even if this Purgatory were an exact copy of Equestria before that day, nothing could ever truly be the same. I guess everyone is finding that out in their own way."

Luna stared up at the false sky, knowing the infinitely upward stretch wasn't real. Then again, it probably was real, but it was hard to tell what actually counted for real anymore. "I wish I could have warned them all, in a better fashion, about how difficult it is to stare down eternity; though, even I have trouble truly reconciling it."

Luna kept looking out into the infinite horizon, she wondered just how long they would have to wait before anything could change. Before anything could be fixed. Short of that, before they could start to rebuild.

"Damn metaphysical bureaucracies..." she muttered, as she 'walked' back into her pavilion to continue reading.

===---===

Twilight Sparkle was thankful to the bureaucrats for allowing her access to the Inter-Dimensional Library. She really needed ANYTHING in any universe that could take her mind off the incalculable number of years in front of her.

A forever expanding library of books, materials, videos, experiments... everything... everything I could have always wanted...

She walked around, most of the regulars of the Library now used to the sight of the little more than 3' tall purple equine.

All the knowledge ever assembled by mortal mind, and a good chunk of the knowledge of the immortal mind...

She had gone through book after book, never needing to sleep, only really eating when it struck her fancy. She had entered a state that, while living, she would have thought to have been pure Nirvana.

There has to be a way... a way to fix what happened... a way to set what had gone wrong right...

She talked with all manners of patrons, the people who were in zen states fumbling around trying to find something. The eternal spirits, which she was now, who just wanted to accumulate as much as they could before their time for reincarnation came up. She was the envy of some of those spirits, who knew they would return to a world with extremely limited access to this place; possibly even being forced to relinquish the knowledge they had gathered to that point.

Where were the signs... where was the trouble... of course there would be resistance... but anything on that scale... it was unimaginable...

Twilight didn't feel herself lucky though. She was one of many millions, possibly billions, marked by the Bureaucracy to not be called for reincarnation until the Central Committee sorted out what the hell to do with them. It turns out that when Equestria was burnt to a cinder that day, the means by which the humans did it was not covered under a normal reincarnation policy. In fact, the Committee actually applauded the original designers of the weapon that managed to end an entire planet in a flash, using the Power of an Immortal no less, before promptly throwing their souls into a metaphysical black hole. It was a stunningly simple act for their punishment; but she'd have to suffer the repercussions of their act for the rest of eternity it seemed like.

At least the perps got the solace of oblivion, or whatever. Oh what am I saying... I'm still alive... I think? That has to count for something... right?

She wondered how long she'd stay this time. She was two years into this current session, reading whatever she could about the soul and how to contact and interact with the still living without breaking protocol. But even then, there was tons of bureaucratic red tape.

Why is that Earth even a protected zone to begin with?

She had thought to contact anyone willing on Earth, but there was a major snag. The Earth Equestria had contacted was under what the Bureaucrats called a 'non-interference order'. Short of some metaphysically shattering or planet-destroying event, it would take millennia to clear the paperwork to even start contacting Earth in an official channel.

I'll go completely insane by that time, probably multiple times knowing myself.

Not only that, but Twilight's own vanity was starting to bleed through everything. There was so much she wanted to do, so much she had to fix, so much knowledge she had accumulated in the last five centuries. Well, four hundred years because she lost the first almost a hundred as a writhing emotional and spiritual wreck after that day, like a lot of the victims.

All the knowledge in the known universes at my hoof-tips, and I can't do a damn thing with it... I know they said that none of us were going to be punished for what went on leading up to that day... but this feels like cold-blooded torture to me...

===---===

"I always wondered what it would be like to be a muse... I wish I had someone to call upon me though..." Rarity said out loud, by this point she really didn't care if anypony or anything heard her.

Given the infinite nature of the Purgatory they were in, every Pony pretty much had built up, by this time, a fairly sizable estate. Rarity was no different, building up a simply gargantuan replica of the Carousel Boutique. By this time Sweetie Belle had moved on to her little corner of Nowhere, writing songs that only other spirits would hear. Rarity was also faced with a similar situation.

"I want my art to be enjoyed and truly appreciated. But when you're an immortal spirit that'd seen everything, how could you ever appreciate it."

Rarity really didn't know how Luna or Twilight could stand reading book after book after book after book after book, figuring they'd want to create something of their own before long. She also didn't know if it was really impossible for immortal to appreciate created works.

"Living beings, and even spirits always have to be creating something new, don't they? Knowledge and Creativity doesn't cease when the heart stops beating, does it? I guess I'm just afraid; this is like my debut in Canterlot to the nth degree. How could I create something good enough for a creature that might have seen everything before, literally?"

Rarity threw herself on her bed, momentarily appreciating the feedback her soul-body gave her. It was a tiny bit of welcome respite from her situation, an immortal soul that felt endlessly creative, yet seemed to have no outlet for it at all.

=====--=====

"I wonder how many miles I'll fly this time? Maybe 100,000, maybe 250,000, who knows, this place is... infinite. Infinitely high, Infinitely long, Infinitely deep, and Infinitely BORING!" Rainbow Dash thought, as she streaked through the sky at a leisurely 90 MPH.

"Going faster than light was fun the first couple of hundred years, but now... ugh now..." the cyan spirit-mare thought, flapping her mostly redundant wings; just wanting to hear the sound as much as she could.

"I'm still conscious, I can still feel. But I'm not truly alive. I just don't feel that spark anymore. I wish I could just beat the hell out whoever made that bomb or whatever it was. I might have turned their soul into nothing myself," Rainbow Dash thought to herself, the anger welling up in her. Her tone turned dejected as she slowed down. "Maybe it would have made me feel better for awhile."

Rainbow Dash came to stop on a exquisitely large tree, just lounging in the branches. "I dunno why I flew away that day. I mean, we were all glad Pinkie had recovered, even though she took the longest. And that year-long party was pretty fun. But... I just took off, and from what I hear about Luna, it takes forever to get everyone back just to visit for a few months. Has to have been like, ten years since we're all at her Pavilion."

She wondered what she was going to do with herself for the rest of eternity. Even if she wasn't stuck in Purgatory forever, she still could never think of enough things to do to fill her mind from now until then.

"I guess I could join the Inter-Dimensional Arena. Beat up a few monsters or whatever. I dunno..."

Rainbow Dash set to the skies again, 'drifting' aimlessly as she had the last couple of centuries, not sure where the afterlife was going to take her.

=====--=====

Fluttershy walked around the Inter-Dimensional Zoo, looking at the innumerable examples of species from an incalculable number of worlds.

Did you suffer... was it swift... was it painful...

She knew none of the animals were real per say, but the ability of the Bureaucracy to copy living beings and make spirit duplicates was as close to perfect as one could think, so Fluttershy in the end didn't mind that much.

I wonder how many times you've lived and died since then...

Fluttershy had briefly wondered as a filly what it'd be like being immortal, when she learned of the nature of Princess Celestia in school. She wondered what'd it'd be like knowing you'd live long beyond everyone you'd meet, more times than not. It made her sad, but nothing like now.

I still miss you Angel... I miss you so much...

The yellow-furred and pink-maned Pegasus began crying right there, some of the passers-by stopping to console her as best they could. She appreciated their kindness, despite some, if they had met in different circumstance, that would have throw her into their maws without a second thought.

I guess this is what it's like... does it ever stop hurting?

=====--=====

Applejack overlooked the mother of all orchards. Every type of fruit producing plants the many Earths and Equestria ever produced, and several other plant-like lifeforms from other planets.

A darn shame... An orchard bigger than the Everfree maybe... and really nothing Ah can do with it...

Applejack strolled through the orchard, wondering if the scene would really smell like it did now if she were back on Sweet Apple Acres in Equestria.

Ah miss mah home so much... Ah miss everyone else so much... Funny how we could all be 'here', and yet not all be 'here'...

Applejack was just like any other Pony, struggling to come to terms with her new existence. She wondered if she really needed the orchard, if she shouldn't just stay with Luna a few decades to truly grasp what it meant to be immortal. She then figured that not even Luna could be prepared for something like this. The loss of your homeland and your physical body, and to be so unceremoniously stripped of your birthright. It was hard for Applejack - and everyone else - to accept.

Ah wish Ah could gut-kick all of them... each and every last one of 'em until they felt what we felt. Everything burned to the ground. All of us stuck in this... somewhere... for who knows how long. But what would that get me? Nothin'... just more hate... more anger.

She looked up at the endless sky of what she prayed was a temporary home, just letting herself be taken away by its expanse. She continued thinking in a clearing on a hill, one of her many 'thinking spots' in the expansive orchard she called home, for now anyway.

Ah wonder what they're all doin' now. Granny Smith, Big Mac, Apple Bloom, Pinkie, Twi', Rarity, Dash, 'Shy, Princess Luna... and whatever happened to Princess Celestia? Even the Burea'crats can't seem to figure out exactly what happened to her. Even if she somehow ceased existing, they could’ve recorded it... But nothin’... must be driving Luna nuts.

=====--=====

*tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock*

Pinkie Pie, mane somewhat wavy, not really poofy but not really straight either, just sat in a bed, looking out at the little 'village' that popped up near Luna's Pavilion. The clock in her room was one of a few adornments, along with a television that could pull up any video she wanted. She wondered what everyone else was thinking as she just looked out from her bed.

I guess this is the only way I can feel normal anymore. Even though I don't have to sleep like this, or at all really, this is the only way I can feel like the world is anything close to normal.

Pinkie Pie was always known as totally abnormal: somepony whose personality, knowledge, and abilities just seemed to defy everything that was expected of a Pony. Yet, the day before Armageddon, she was rendered entirely catatonic by her Pinkie Sense, her clairvoyant senses finally getting the better of her and leaving her entirely unable to act, or even comprehend what was coming. By the time she was able to recognize herself after dying and finding her and everypony else's soul in their little corner of the afterlife... she mostly went catatonic again, losing everything that made her 'her'. While most of the non-Draconic beings took anywhere between 80 and 100 years to finally re-assume a 'normal' frame of mind, it took Pinkie nearly 150 years before she could put together coherent sentences.

I guess everyone wants to make things feel as normal as they could be... even though nothing would ever really be normal again...

Another twenty years after that, she threw her first party since her death. It ended up being one of the most surreal and sublime experiences anything in that corner of the afterlife had ever experienced. Even some of the non-native goers, who just wanted to see why people liked going to that mare's parties, had to admit that the party was enjoyable, even if completely offbeat and just plain weird at times.

I wonder if I could ever get my mane normal again... maybe I just have to put up with this wavy style another century... definitely don't want to go back to straight...

=====--=====

Luna sat in her pavilion, still reading her play, wondering if it were her turn to try her hoof at the pen in this dimension. She constantly thought of her long lost sister, and why not even the Bureaucracy could contact her after all these years.

Where are the current Humans holding Celestia, to where even they cannot perceive. Nothing can move forward without you, 'Tia; but I don't know if you can even recognize that, as it is.

~====-====~

On Earth, deep underground, underneath layers upon layers of labs and security, sat a chamber. It was a plainly adorned cavern, filled with sinks for thaumatic radiation to be tossed back into the burnt out husk of Equestria when overused. There was a shimmering pool of a strange colored fluid. The blood of a goddess. It was said that to enter that chamber, one could hear a wailing, almost like a banshee.

These days though, it was quiet more or less. There it was, once proud and regal matriarch, the Avatar of the Sun of her world: Princess Celestia, or at least what was left of her. Her head and neck now rested in a coffin made out of D-Material, the powdered form of the petrified Draconequs Discord, the Incarnate Spirit of Disharmony and Chaos. Despite this, Celestia was not dead, although many a time she wished she could die and be spared the interminable suffering. Instead, she merely whimpered, like a mother who watched her children die before her eyes; and had long ago gone insane with grief, a broken shell of a proud mare.

My Sister...
My Herd...
Where have you gone?

Chapter 2: Reclamation

=== Mankind Triumphant: The Last Six ===

== Chapter 2: Reclamation ==

My dear girls... it will soon be time. The curtain on your grand production will soon be raised. I can only hope the playwrights will be kind to you all in the end.

-=---=-

"Alright guys, here is our assignment," said a man clad in black and gray camouflage. A team of three men, each of slightly different build, rolled up to a rather out of the way mansion in a black and charcoal gray van-like wheeled vehicle.

The three of them jumped out rather quickly; after of course ascertaining there were no vultures around to snipe their job, or themselves. They strode to the door with purpose, as the technical expert hooked a wire from his computer to a panel near the front door of the mansion/laboratory in order to open the place up.

"The Entry Codes and everything else look legit. That lady that commissioned our work knew what she was talking about," the technical expert explained, as he undid the electronic locks on the mansion with little to no effort.

"At least I don't have to try and jimmy the door open like the last time. Doors of the rich are always a pain in the ass to open when you don't have the key codes," a rather large man, in the same black and gray camouflage said, positively towering (in a relative sense) over the other two of his partners.

"Yeah. But this might be a relatively easy job. Apparently we're only supposed to be bringing back data and some light equipment, that's why we got Rich's custom data-van tonight," the team leader said, as they all went inside.

=---=

The looked around for a few minutes at the dark mansion. It really did look all the world like a normal rich person's house. Humanity had done quite well for itself in the five centuries since The Cataclysm as they called it, at least that is what those in charge told everyone. Life was still pretty damn hard for most, since either drones of the Slave Ponies, as most of them called them, handled all the manual labor. Therefore, especially if you weren't technically inclined, you had to develop some really worthwhile skills. The three of them had indeed made a name for themselves under the banner of the Eastern America Reclamation Corporation, as the best reclamation team under their employ.

Due to the nature and speed at which Humanity had progressed (at least materially) since that day, things tended to get... left behind. Or property changed hands, whatever have you. Therefore, in the last fifty years, the idea of the 'reclamation company' came about. Their mission was simple: hire some people to go and get stuff before vultures or squatters could claim it for themselves. Tonight's job for the intrepid crew: Thomas, the tactical leader, Richard the technical and computer expert, and Harold, the muscle and bit of a demolitions guy. All were in their early thirties, had graduated from the same school, pretty much had been together for most of their (young) adult lives.

"Man, this place is dusty. Though I'm surprised it isn't a colony for bugs by now," Harold said as he looked around the dark and dusty home.

"Yeah, I don't know when the agriculture colonies plan to start re-releasing insects into the wider world. It must be a pain trying to corral and direct the Slave Ponies all the time," Richard said as he began securing and encrypting the connections to the data-van parked outside.

Thomas just sat in a chair after dusting it off with his hand, contemplating the wider world they found themselves in. "You know what I've been thinking all this time: I wonder what really happened in those years after the Cataclysm. I mean everything is green again outside of the cities and colonies thanks to the Slave Ponies. But, I dunno man, it just seems like a hell of a price to pay to preserve ourselves."

Richard and Harold thought about it for a short while themselves, as Rich's laptop continued to synchronize itself with the data-van. As the synchronization neared completion, Richard offered his thoughts on the subject. "Well like anything else on this planet, it's kill or be killed. But, I guess this is the curse of sapience: to second guess killing something else to ensure your survival. What happened that day, even if the White Horse was an invader, just felt... wrong."

Harold never really cared much for history, and really didn't see a side worth taking in that conflict; yet, he to some extent agreed with the sense of wrongness Richard felt. "I mean it's easy for us to sit here and say 'Well that's good for her ass, she shouldn't have done what she did!' But it couldn't have just been that simple, could it?"

The three of them debated as best they could the scenario and whatever alternatives might have been available to humanity at that time. All of them felt that they did not have a complete story; but all the original authors and actors in that production were either long dead or locked in some kind of magically-laced coffin.

They were interrupted by a shrill beeping from Richard's laptop, signaling the synchronization was complete and the encryption was set. It was time to get to work copying whatever data and moving whatever equipment they could.

=-----=

"Alright, here we go. Eastern American Genetic Laboratories, boy you think they would have come up with more clever names for these companies. Then again since they are de facto government, it should probably stand to reason they'd want to project that," Richard mused out loud, as he began reactivating the main system's computers.

Harold scoffed a bit at the concern for aesthetics the tech-head was showing. "Yeah, watcha gonna do sometimes. Oh well we get paid pretty well for not being in the management class, all things considered."

"That we do Harry, that we do. Too bad we have to play nice to keep our little slice of pie," Thomas reasoned out loud. He hated dealing with his superiors and the seemingly pervasive and infectious smugness throughout the managerial classes.

Richard agreed with the disdain for their employers and their seeming nonchalant attitude regarding their 'lessers'. "'Do what you can to get by.' It's all we can do to avoid the deep urban slums. Boy you think we would have sorted that out since then."

Harold chuckled to himself a bit. "'More things change, the more they stay the same.' Heh, at least they thought to preserve the 'greater works of Humanity' before they smashed the big reset button."

Eventually their banter was quelled by the lab's central computers coming to life, lighting the windowless room up with the LCD lights along the ceiling.

"Welcome purveyors of Science, to the Eastern American Genetics Laboratories: where we are making a better world through the Code of Life," a rather dull masculine voice said as the pre-programmed greeting played through the computer room.

"Wonder how long since anyone alive heard that little message here," Harold thought out loud as he watched the mostly unreadable (to him) diagnostic messages scroll past the main monitor.

"According to the lady that commissioned our work for the evening, at least 70 years. Apparently her grandfather's crew were the last real workers in this facility. She didn't say what they were working on here, only that we were to bring back as much information as we could, and some of the physical equipment if we could manage it," Richard answered as we watched the booting computer for any oddities.

This is just plain weird, these computers should be producing some kind of errors or something in the last seventy-odd years... but it's like these computers haven't even been off for a day... Richard thought to himself as he saw absolutely no errors being reported from the system as it loaded swiftly into the base operating system.

Richard was still surprised by the relative easy by which he was accessing all the information. "Alright, according to her, the relevant files should be... in... this... directory. Boy for what seems like highly sensitive information, the protection on these files is relatively simple. I can only assume this place was under heavy guard in order to prevent outright access."

As he began copying the files into his laptop and transferring them back to the data-van, he and the rest of the crew were surprised by a sudden fanfare and mild pyrotechnic display on the main monitor of the system's computers.

I guess this is where the job gets interesting. Thomas thought to himself, as he searched for a chair to sit in.

"Greetings to the Future! If you are watching or reading this message, I'm in all likelihood dead! And, seeing as the exact information and means to unlock is only known to my family, that means either the viewer of this message is family, or has been commissioned directly by my family to access these files and records," stated a rather energetic elderly sounding male through the system's speakers.

"Uh, I'd wager this isn't supposed to be happening..." Harold said as he put a hand on a sidearm just in case any drones or anything started showing up.

Richard scratched his head as he found nothing wrong with the situation, other than the odd message they were all watching. "Well, it's hard to say. Nothing is interrupting the transfer of the information, nor is my laptop or data-van being compromised by some outside access. Whoever rigged this up intended to have a independent message for whoever accessed this stuff."

"So I guess we get treated to a little show while we wait for the data to transfer for our client. Well might as well, doesn't seem like there's anything else for us to do anyway," Thomas said as he reclined a bit in the cushioned chair he found.

The elderly male voice then started again. "First, a bit of a History Lesson..." The statement immediately met by a groan from Harold but the voice continued undaunted. "Everyone knows about the day that changed the direction of Human development forever: The Day of Fire, The Great Cataclysm, Equestrian Armageddon. According to the History Books, on that day, the culmination of all of human technology to that point single-handedly erased the threat of Equestria and her allies from the face of this and possibly any other world. From there, the remains of the White Horse, the so-called goddess that orchestrated an invasion of our Precious Earth was used to forge the new race of docile Ponies that help us reclaim the lands we sacrificed in our efforts to repel Celestia's threat once and for all."

"I wonder what kind of point he's making because he's just spouting what any kid in school would learn..." Harold thought out loud, as he was clearly chafing having to think about the subject.

"So then, what if I were to tell you that story was... incomplete?" the elderly voice then asked rhetorically.

Harold noticed this, and decided to answer the question at the entity that clearly couldn't respond. "Well, on one had I'd say you’re full of crap. On the other hand this has to be leading somewhere so whatever."

The voice then continued on. "Although everything went along more or less swimmingly for the last few centuries, Mankind was not content to simply rest on its laurels. Therefore, an idea began to be contemplated: what if the remains of Princess Celestia could be used for other means? With that, my team was commissioned to figure out an answer to this question."

"How is the data transfer looking, Rich? Looks like this little story is starting to get interesting..." Thomas asked, looking at Rich switching his focus from his laptop screen to the main screen of the labs.

"We're about 30% complete on the file transfers. Although you're right, I wanna know what this recording is talking about too," Richard replied, interested in the story from a scientific aspect himself.

The voice continued some more. "For ten years, we began applying various concoctions based upon Celestia's very blood. Very potent stuff that; a few ounces on the skin and the magic inherent would overwhelm a person's very genetics and transmogrify them into a full-fledged Pony. Some speculated that the original Ponification Program used during her, ahem, campaign was a generic equivalent of this. Who knows honestly? In any case, no matter what derivative or counter-agent we attempted to devise, the result was always the same. The subject would eventually turn into a Pony, and not just a Slave Pony either. Since it was Celestia's Blood and not the Neo-Ponification Serum with the magical counteragents, the resultant Pony would be one of the three original sub-species, and have full cognitive and magical abilities. Of course, the government corporations could not abide by that. All of the test subjects who underwent the procedures were summarily executed in cold blood."

"Ugh, the price of progress... it all just makes me ill sometimes." Thomas said as he cringed a bit at the thought of the newly-minted Ponies being shot in cold-blood, or worse.

"We're 75% complete on the file transfers, cap'n," Richard reported as the voice on the main computer started back to speaking.

"Personally, I nor my main assistants on the team could abide by this senseless waste of life. Even if the test subjects were convicts or those the ruling classes deemed expendable, it was highly unethical to say the least. Eventually, I registered my complaints with my superiors at the central office. Their response was very swift and curt. The project was completely shut down and anyone related to it directly were either to be Neo-Ponified or killed, whatever was more convenient at the moment. Of course I could not abide by dying or being Neo-Ponified by their hands, so I did what any sensible mad scientist would do. I attempted to end my life by my own hands and buried my research so deep not even they could find it. By the fact you are watching this message in the manner I intended, means I was successful in the latter. And most likely, successful in the former as well. I do hope that whichever family member that comes into possession of this data uses it wisely. What is contained therein has the potential that change the world. And quite possibly, if I may be so bold, to correct the devastating error that was made in our names all those centuries ago."

The voice then cut off, and a little while later a short fanfare played, denoting all of the files had been transferred into the crew's laptop, and thereby recorded into the data-van outside as well.

Well, all the files except... one.

"So we're good to go, although it looks like there is one file remaining. You think we should open it?" Thomas asked, looking at the lone cubic icon in the file explorer on the main screen.

"We can take a look at it once I de-sync the system. I don't get a good feeling from the fact the system let us have everything except it. If it turns out to be legit, I'll copy it manually," Richard said as the he started the de-sync to preserve what they had so far.

After a few moments, the de-sync was complete, and Richard strode up to the main computer's control panel to open the leftover file. "Let's see what the good professor left behind..."

As soon as he opened the file and it was processed, were they treated to another fanfare.

After a few moments of processing, the familiar elderly voice started up again, this time with a slightly different tone. "Hrm, there is one more thing that you all want to know, yes? I wonder what that could be, what that could be..."

"Man this guy seems a few screws short of a full do-it-yourself-set," Harold said, folding his arms at the deceased professors mannerisms.

"Ah! That must be it! You all must be wondering just what I could have been working on that I would be literally willing to die to prevent it from ending!" the elderly voice said, now far more excited than a recording should have been.

"Well we weren't wondering that, but let's go with it anyway," Thomas said as he rose up out of his chair.

"Well, we should discuss this matter in a more private setting, who knows what might be trying to pry in. You all, do come in," the elderly voice said, making a motion as if he wanted the three men he couldn't be seeing to come through the screen.

The three men in question looked around confused, until they heard the wall itself on the back end of the lab moving, revealing an elevator.

Richard looked at the floor plans of the building, confused to why there was an elevator where none was clearly labeled. "You know, the fact that this place has hidden rooms should not be surprising; and yet, it is."

Harold had his side-arm drawn, ready for anything that might have popped out, as he went over the elevator. The elevator doors opened automatically, revealing nothing except a fairly well carpeted car ready to take them down underground. He turned around at the other two to ask the obvious question. "So do we take the good professor up on his offer, or what."

Thomas thought for a few moments. "On one hand, every logical bit of my brain is saying 'Turn around, you have what you came for, just leave and forget it.' On the other hand, fortune favors the bold."

"So... that means?" Richard asked, as he folded up the portable computer and put it in his backpack.

Thomas answered curtly. "We go."

Richard merely shrugged as he and the other two men entered the car, and took long ride down.

===----===

After a couple of minutes of riding the elevator, the three men exited the rather spacious car, only to find something that blew them away.

"I... I don't even..." Richard stammered out barely, his team leader and the muscle left totally speechless.

The labs underneath the grounds looked completely state of the art, as if they never stopped running in the last seventy-some-odd years since the last officially documented day of operation.

"This place... this place..." Richard continued to stammer as the three of them walked through the labs, careful not to trip over anything.

The familiar elderly voice started up again, this time with a visage of a man in his early seventies on a giant monitor what looked like a video wall.

"Here is where the true magic was made during the active period of these labs. I believe you all are wondering 'What does he mean by magic and why would there be a lab underneath a lab to begin with?' Well I will answer that for you," the voice started. The three men each found chair, but didn't bother to sit as they were fearing they'd have to bolt for the elevator at any second. The visage continued speaking. "Down here is where we conducted the actual trials with the mixtures of Celestia's Blood. As you already know, each trial I stated, and if you had already skimmed the files I gave you the trials listed, ended in failure: none of the concoctions we devised resulted in anything except a Pony. At least... all but one particular formula,"

All three of the men wondered exactly what that could have meant about a formula that didn't result in failure. They all had their ideas, but were still in bit of shock over the whole finding a clandestine lab beneath another clandestine lab.

The old voice continued. "Yes, Formula #CLS-042. The results we achieved were nothing short of absolutely stunning." Video then appeared on the wall below the face speaking, as a visual aid to anyone watching. "As stated, all of the Formulas to this point only resulted in Ponies. However... this formula, was different. We ended up using it on six female test subjects, each one in their late teens. From all walks of life, one was the dispossessed daughter of a manager somewhere, another was a street urchin known for her already extreme strength given her age and frame. All probably would have ended up dead, Neo-Ponified, or in someone's service. Anyway, a long story short, when we applied this particular serum, we were stunned by the final result. A human!"

The three men sat there with jaws on the metaphorical floor as they watched the video. All six of the ladies were given the potion, and, judging from the time lapse, several months passed with no visible mutation except a change in hair and eye color. They had all sat down to try and process what the recording was telling them.

"As I stated. Physiologically, all of the ladies that were used as test subjects for this run remained human as far as we could ascertain. However, that was not the only shock. The six girls, roughly two months after the application of the serum, began displaying abilities that could only be described as Equestrian Magic."

Richard nearly fell out is his chair when he heard the face say that. "THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE! HOW COULD A HUMAN USE PONY MAGIC!"

"Calm down and let the good professor explain it..." Thomas said, as Richard sat back down in his chair, still in disbelief.

"As you can see from the video below you, the girls were indeed utilizing Equestrian Magic. None of the researchers dared to speak of this to anyone outside of the labs, hiding the girls in plain sight as assistants or whatever have you. However, not every researcher could be so tight lipped. Eventually word leaked back to the main laboratory of the success of CLS-042. When word started coming back down about beginning trials to use the formula as a super-soldier program. Well safe to say I completely lost it. No corporation or government entity, even though in most cases they were one in the same, were going to use my girls as some kind of military experiment. Perhaps the idea was selfish, in hindsight, but I saw those girls as my daughters. As time went on, thought, it became harder and harder hide their existence as successful trial subjects. Meanwhile, what I could only surmise was a Pony-like mentality was starting to emerge in the girls. However, I was absolutely stunned to see it did not cause any active mental conflict, instead it was as if the Pony mentality and the Human mentality were complementing each other.

"I was at a loss, these girls could prove to be the beings that could have finally rectified the error we had committed collectively so many centuries ago. At the same time, if they fell into the wrong hands, they could have been killed or reprogrammed as some kind of living weapon. I couldn't have it, and I wouldn't have that. Eventually, I resolved to not going to let this opportunity go to waste. I had the girls placed in stasis pods, their bodies and minds hopefully would be preserved until a later date. I also instructed my true biological son to escape the labs with the only bits of information that could have begun to undo the locks I placed on this underground facility. No one besides myself, and now whoever is watching this, would know of the exact nature of this facility. As a final act of defiance, I destroyed every record and every trace of CLS-042, so that it would not be reverse engineered and used for dark purposes. I suspect I met my demise, since I am telling you all this through a recording. I will now show you all the final proof that all I have asserted is indeed true."

The video wall then lowered, to reveal six stasis pods. The three men rose up to look at each of them, and what they saw shocked them to the core, or at least even MORE than they were already.

"Mother of God..."

"I... I'm seeing it with my own eyes, but my mind just won't process it..."

"This... this is... crazy..."

A warning sign then flashed across each of the video monitors on the front of the panels.

Please give 2 meters clearance. Final checks are about to be conducted.

The three men all backed up the requisite distance, as they saw some more monitors light up with the apparent conditions of all six of the ladies in stasis.

"Stasis Subjects One through Six: Condition All Green. Brain functionality All Green. No cellular damage reported. Beginning revitalization sequence," a rather shrill computerized voice reported.

"Gents, it looks like we're about to see the reawakening of six Sleeping Beauties," Thomas said, somehow finding it in himself to make light of this dramatic situation.

Something not lost on Harold. "Man if I had a credit for every time you made a joke in this type of situation, I could probably BUY the whole damn company we work for."

"Revitalization complete. Brainwave sequences All Green. Subjects regaining consciousness," the electronic voice reported again, as the six pods began to open.

What laid before the three men who entered the compound were six girls, all apparently ranging in age from their very early twenties to their late teens. All builds, and most striking of all, hair colors in seemingly every hue of the spectrum.

The first to wake up, as it were, was a sky-blue-haired girl with yellow and white streaks all through. "Ugh, what decade is it, I feel like I've been asleep... for... ever..." She almost fainted right then and there but Thomas caught her before she landed on the floor.

As the other girls were waking up, he sat the sky-blue-haired one in the chair he was just sitting in. "Well, little miss. Um, the Year is 499 A.C. if that helps any. New Year's Day is in 3 days last I checked."

"That means, we've been asleep for... um..." the sky-blue-haired girl thought before it struck her, and her eyes went wide. "SEVENTY YEARS! WE'VE BEEN ASLEEP FOR SEVENTY YEARS, well give or take a few months. BUT STILL!!!" Thomas quickly grabbed her hands to try and calm her down before she got overexerted flailing about in surprise.

"Well to be honest it doesn't feel like it's been that long... although the fact there is no one here except these men in camouflage implies otherwise," said another of the ladies, possibly the oldest of the group; her hair a more 'blue' blue, fading into white ends.

"If it has been that long, then I guess Gramps has already passed on. I honestly don't know how to feel about that," a muscular girl with orange and gold hair rather sternly. She looked around as if she were being annoyed by something, which the three guys found mildly unsettling.

"It's sad, but inevitable. I wonder what happened to the assistants after we were put in the pods. Since it's been seventy years they've probably all had children and passed on as well," a quiet looking girl said as she patted her clothes down, knocking out the wrinkles, hair green as grass mixed with sunflower yellow 'patches'.

"Ahh, that's too bad. I thought we could have spent some time reminiscing. Maybe if we find their kids or grandkids we could. Then again none of them would probably know what went on down here anyway. Oh well..." said another girl, curly red and pink hair all over her head.

"I just want to get back into the rest of the world. Even while we were awake we hardly set foot outside this place once we got here. And now we've spent the last seventy years asleep down here? I'm ready for a change of scenery, a MAJOR one," an ill-tempered girl with indigo and platinum-blonde streaks said as she looked around at the lab and her fives compatriots and the three strangers.

The six girls eventually began talking to each other, as the three reclaimers huddled up to figure out how exactly to proceed in this situation.

"Well there is very little protocol on how to handle the reclamation of humans. Even if they are human experiments," Richard said, scratching his head all the while.

Harold, similar to the rest of the evening, felt absolutely torn. "Ugh, a part of me wants to leave them. But if they are who the ol' man on the computer says they are, we can't. I mean even if they do use Pony Magic... somehow... they are still young women, girls even."

"I can't believe there are absolutely no records of this experiment that have not survived those seventy years. I'm thinking we just ask them and if that fails we try and convince them," Thomas mused out loud.

"Convince us of what?" the curly red-head asked, peering over into their huddle somehow.

The three men looked at the smiling girl, probably not a day over sixteen, and figured they might as well ask.

"Uh... Okay, I'm not even gonna ask how you snuck up on us like that, so I'll just get to the point. We want to ask the six of you to return to our home and I guess base of operations. We are part of a reclamation crew, and we were sent to reclaim information regarding this facility. And it appears we got way more than we bargained for," Thomas said matter-of-factly, hoping the girls were understanding.

The six ladies quickly huddled themselves, and after a few moments of deliberation, the sky-blue-haired girl reported their collective answer. "We've decided that you got a deal. I guess after seventy years, there isn't anything left for us here. And we're gonna need to get caught up on things." The other five nodded in assent.

Maybe the thing about them being part Pony mentally is true... I wouldn't know of any humans out there that'd just agree to go with strangers just like that... Thomas thought to himself.

"Well that's all well and good. But don't you think you're forgetting something?" the familiar older voice asked, face reappearing on the large monitor above the pods.

"Um... I... don't know?" Thomas asked, the other two men looking as confused as he.

"Old Man Eastson? Is that you? In the computer?!" the sky-blue haired girl asked, the other five girls showing the same confusion as the other four there.

"Wait... how? That..." Richard stammered, he knew that brain uploading technology was heavily restricted, due to it being rather unreliable.

"Of course there were some things lost in translation. But I feel that 90% of me is more than enough proceed on," Eastson said, smiling a rather eerie smile all the while.

"I always thought you were a crazy old man, but this just takes the cake," the orange-haired girl said, arms folded across her rather impressive frame.

"Anyway, I heard you all discussing allowing my girls to return with you to your 'base of operations' as it were. Well I do not think any father, or I would guess now grandfather, would allow such of a thing without a proper chaperon?" Eastson then asked of the nine arranged before him.

"Let me guess, you'd be the chaperon?" Thomas asked, wondering what the old bat was thinking with all the processors behind him.

"And what if we refuse your services?" Harold asked, just wanting to get home and crawl in the bed.

All of the doors to the lab immediately slammed shut, including their only way out in the elevator. Blast shutters then covered up the outer walls of the lab, and red klaxons appeared. "Then I blow everything to kingdom come..." Easton stated rather non-chalantly.

"WHAT! WAS THAT 10% YOUR SANITY?!" Thomas yelled, wondering just what in the hell the uploaded man was thinking

"Just agree to what he said" the blue-haired lady said, whispering into Thomas's ear.

"What?"

"Just agree to what he said, I don't think you or the rest of us are in a position to argue, and I think we'd all want to get out of this rather dank place," she responded, with a stern look in her eye.

Thomas cleared his throat, to get Easton's attention. "After very careful consideration, we have decided accede to your request and allow you to accompany us as well. Although, we don't know exactly how we're supposed to accomplish that."

"Oh that's simple," Eastson started as he turned off the klaxons and reopened the doors. "In the room to your right there should be a black cube about half a meter on each edge. Simply disconnect the cable from the cube and carry that with you."

"Richard, if you don't mind?" Thomas asked of his tech friend.

Richard just threw up his hands and walked over into the indicated room. He returned a couple of minutes later, struggling with the cube somewhat. "Damn, this thing is heavy, what the hell do you have in here Dr. Easton?"

"Oh, it's basically the very 'living' core of my AI-self. I would not suggest dropping it if you want to get out of here in any kind of reasonable timeframe," Eastson replied, his face on one of the sides of the cube facing everyone else.

"May I?" the orange-haired girl asked, indicating she'd be willing to take the load off Richard's hands.

"Sure, knock yourself out," he replied half-thought out. The three men were stunned at the sheer ease by which the girl held the heavy cube.

This is going to be a hell of a ride... Thomas thought to himself as they all walked to the elevator to leave.

Eventually, the six girls climbed into the back of the van with the cube containing Eastson's mind. They then took off on the hour long drive back to the East America First Cluster, where New York once proudly sat.

"So guys, what do you think of tonight's little excursion," Harold asked as he looked back though the bullet-proof window at the six girls apparently just chatting each other and the black cube up.

"I would like to say it wasn't the most insane thing we've found ourselves caught up in, but something tells me we're about get in it deep with those seven," Richard said, going over all the data.

"Yeah, who knows what we might get into with all of them. But, I guess that's just how it goes when you're reclaimers. Sometimes you end up dredging up way more than you bargain for," Thomas said, as he oversaw the autopilot, there being no obstructions or anything on the road.

===== ----- =====

MISSION JOURNAL: DEC 28, 499 A.C.

Well, tonight was certainly an interesting night. Supposedly we were to just go into this old mansion/laboratory and gather some data. We ended up with the data, six young ladies, and the lead professor's head in a box. I don't know which of the last two is more strange, six healthy young ladies in stasis pods for seventy years... or a professor that managed to upload his mind into a literal black box. Either way, there is definitely more to those girls than they let on just meeting them. Honestly, I went against all my better judgment in letting them accompany us back home to meet our client; but the good Professor Eastson, despite being in a black box, is a good negotiator. The one thing I notice about the girls though: they do have a different air about them. I can't really say for sure if they are really part Pony like the good professor claims. Then again, between the hair and eyes in all colors of the rainbow, well, there is something different about them at least. Anyway I guess I should note down their identities so me and the guys and keep them all straight.

[ Dawn, Age 18 ] Let's see here, Dawn I guess is the unofficial group leader of those six ladies, or at least the one on point. She's about moderate build and measurements. Her hair is, I would guess you can say sky blue, with horizontal streaks of yellow and white; her eyes are the same sky blue, which doesn't seem like a strange eye color on a human, except the blue looks a bit more rich. One of the things I notice about her already is an incredibly inquisitive nature. She spent much of the time walking back to the van talking to Richard about how much technology had and hadn't changed since roughly 430 A.C. when she was put into stasis. I'm guessing Rich is going to have a fun time with her getting her up to speed on how to use current tech should we decide to let them stay.

[ Jewel, Age 21 ] Alright then, Jewel. Well the first thing you notice about Jewel when compared to the other five of them is that she's clearly the oldest of the six of them, although it couldn't be by too much. The thing is she carries herself with an definite air of confidence and authority. This leads me to suspect she is truthful when she said that before the experiment, she was the daughter of a prominent manager for a Western American mega-corporation. I didn't bother to pry what happened, although I can surmise there was a falling out and she figured it was either this or live on the street, or worse. Anyway, she is built like a typical fashion model you see in the holo-magazines in the upper-crust homes. I think only Peaches is taller than her. Her hair is a more rich blue than Dawn, and the tips seem to fade quickly to white though, as if she constantly dips her hair in bleach an inch or so up. Her eyes are the same rich blue, definitely not a normal human hue but, like the others, you adjust to seeing it after awhile.

[ Stormy, Age 17 ] Hoo boy, Stormy. Little Miss Snarky this one. Well she definitely will tell you exactly what she is thinking when she thinks it. I'd assume she means well, but she definitely needs to learn a little tact. She also has a definite impatient streak, and maybe some mild claustrophobia; it took us a good five minutes to convince her to get in the back of the van. Although, when you're around her, she just seems to give off this... electricity. I wonder if it's actual electricity or just some strange passive psyche effect. Anyway, she's the second shortest of the six, I think only Bubbles (odd name that) is shorter than her. Also a bit flat chested, might be some of the source of her consternation. Her hair is a pretty dark blue-purple color, I think she calls it indigo, with some streaks of very pale platinum blonde; her eyes seems to mimic that color pattern, mostly indigo with a bit of pale yellow mixed in.

[ Demure/Demi, Age 20 ] Well whatever Stormy is, Demi isn't. She's almost apologetic and passive to a fault, compared to how aggressive and forward Stormy is. Despite this, I will have to say she is quite the looker. Definite model material, but most definitely not a model's personality. Who knows, it might be why she attempts to be so non-descript, avoiding attention and whatnot. Demi also seems to share some of Dawn's intellectual traits, particularly interested in history. She's about medium height, roughly the same as Dawn which puts her in the middle of the pack; although, truth be told, she's probably the most stacked of the six. I hope that doesn't reflect too badly on me that I noticed that, but, well sometimes I can't help it. Anyway, her hair is kinda, grass green with bright yellow blotches, like sunflowers growing in a open field. Hah, look at me the poet. I just hope our Pony 'housekeeper' doesn't try and eat her hair while she's asleep.

[ Peaches, Age 18 ] Boy, now this girl is a real piece of work. Peaches is a definitely an imposing figure, despite her gender and age. Built like a cage fighter, quite muscular while retaining her curves; on top of that, she's the tallest of the entire group, and is even taller than Rich. Myself and Harold thought it was just a fluke that she was able to carry Prof. Eastson's cube without much effort, so we tried it for a few moments. That cube must be filled with lead or something, I couldn't believe how heavy it was. And us without our strength-enhancing gear. Yet she, again, lifted and carried the cube like it was an empty cardboard box. To be honest it made us feel a little inadequate. Anyway, before I forget, Miss Peaches has orange and peach colored hair, with some golden yellow tips like Jewels. I wonder if they styled each other or something before going under.

[ Bubbles, Age 16 ] Well, this girl is also a piece of work, and for completely different reasons. She's a true motormouth; though somehow she manages to remain on topic no matter how many words leaves her mouth. She also has a fairly laid-back attitude, like she doesn't have a care in the world. It would be unfair to call her silly or truly uncaring, however. Anyone can look into those rose-red eyes of hers and see a million gears turning. I do hope the spunky-but-otherwise-laid-back red-head routine isn't just some kind of facade, otherwise the rest of us might be in some real trouble. Anyway, like I wrote already she's a redhead, although some bits of her hair looks more of a magenta or rose-red color. She's also the shortest of the six girls, but still has a relatively nice figure. I seriously hope I'm not going to get myself in trouble talking about how each of them look, but whatever the professor did or whatever force got them into his lab certainly knew how to pick 'em.

Anyway, we should be arriving at 'home base' before long. There should be enough sleeping bags and blankets to have the girls sleep relatively to themselves if they so choose. I can't think a few hours have to waking up from a seventy-year stasis they'd want to share a bed with a guy.

This is Squad Leader Thomas Pullman signing out...

Chapter 3: Acclimation

=== Mankind Triumphant: The Last Six ===

== Chapter 3: Acclimation ==

So I get to meet the ultimate fruit of my grandfather's work soon. I wonder what they are like...

====---====

The 'home base' of the Thomas's reclamation team was nothing more than a over-outfitted standard house. In an era gone by, it would have outwardly looked like the pinnacle of suburban life with a modern twist. The house was fairly large, enough room for the six girls and their sleeping bags to have some room while the guys kept their normal rooms. The last week or so was full of a lot of acclimation for everyone involved. The girls, having been sealed in those pods for the last seven decades, spent most of their time learning the new iterations of the technology since then. The guys spent most of their time going to pick up the clothes they let the girls order, thankful the 3D Printers made clothes quite cheap relative to their pay-scale. Besides being runners for their new house guests, the guys had to get used to the fact the Equestrian Magic was starting to reassert itself in those girls, much to the delight of Professor Eastson.

"It's been too long since I've seen you work your literal Technical Wizardry, Dawn," Prof. Eastson said, getting used to the less robust systems of Thomas and crew's home.

Dawn was fiddling with some leftover electronics that Richard had salvaged, seeing what she could restore/upgrade with her magic and technical skill. "Well, it's taken awhile to link ourselves back to what little Equestrian Mana is left. Oddly enough, Choco helps quite a bit in that regard."

"Choco always helps!" the Slave Pony said excitedly, bouncing up and down like a little colt. The six girls couldn't help but feel queasy around the foal-like chocolate brown and white-maned stallion.

At the same time, however, his presence was comforting in another sense; it was proof that Ponies still existed in this world. The internal contradiction only served to confuse the six ladies even more.

Jewel came back into the main room where Dawn, Richard, and Eastson were fiddling with the house's computers. "Choco certainly means well, but I see the Slave Ponies haven't gotten any smarter in the last 70 years."

"Yeah and I guess the Powers-That-Be would like it to stay that way. We try to treat Choco as best as we can given the circumstances, but it's hard to look at that face and not be disturbed," Richard said, as he examined another processor panel to see if it was worth letting Dawn and Eastson upgrade.

Eastson sighed as he switched 'faces' on the cube in order to look straight at Jewel and Richard. "It is truly a terrible situation everyone finds themselves in. If it weren't for the Slave Ponies, Humanity would not have been able to reclaim the lands they sacrificed to execute their campaign against Equus as a whole. But, in my opinion anyway, it really should not have degenerated to that point to begin with."

Dawn sat Indian-style on the floor as she levitated a circuit-board in her sky-blue aura. "I could sit here and continue to be mad at the state of the world, but just doing that isn't going to get me or the rest of us anywhere. I guess we'll just have to continue on as we were until we can figure out if anything can be done about, well, everything."

---=---

Peaches, Bubbles, and Harold were in the basement, which had been converted into a training room and the sleeping quarters for the orange and reddish haired ladies. Bubbles was stretching on a machine built to help improve flexibility, while Peaches had a pair of gloves and shin-and-foot-guards with sensors to test her punching and kicking power.

"Well I'll say this about you two, and I guess I can extend this to the rest of your group: you all are in peak physical condition given your frames and personalities. In fact, if I dare say I think Peaches here might have been at least a semi-professional fighter in a past life," Harold said as he looked at results from the strike power tests.

Peaches gave Harold a bit of playful look as she started to recount a bit about her life before she arrived at the Eastson's lab. "Like I said before, I was a cage-fighter in the border areas of the main cities. Ya know, the space where the slums meet the more, I guess middle-class areas. They said I set records in the women's division for wins and knockouts; even got over on a few men slightly below my weight class on top of that. Then... some things happened. Next thing you know my hair looks like fruit and I'm throwing around 50 Kg weights like it's nothing."

Harold could tell by the tone of her voice in the last statement whatever happened to her was quite painful, so he didn't pursue the issue.

Bubbles perched herself on one of the pieces of equipment, her relatively small frame keeping her from banging her head against the ceiling of the basement workout area. "Yeah, she might be a good striker, but she can also stretch you out pretty bad. Although I can slip out most of her holds. Unless I eat one of her pies, or take too long in the shower..."

"Uh, I think I get the idea Bubbles. At the very least, you have good hand-to-hand combat instincts and skill, those hands and feet of yours are wicked" Harold stated after managing to cut Bubbles off from blabbing too much. He noted himself that her striking power was well above average for a male of her size and build, let alone a woman.

"The thing that truly pisses me off though, is how this world is both doing better and worse in the years since we went into stasis. Yeah, everything is more green, and there seems to be more to go around. But it doesn't look like the slums have gotten any better," Peaches said, striking the bag even harder than she was before.

Harold was a bit rattled, not used to Peaches invoking some of her Pony Magic. Looks like she has a bad temper too, we're gonna have to watch that if trouble comes calling... Harold thought to himself as he watched Bubbles hop down and move on to a different piece of equipment.

---=---

Stormy, Demi, and Thomas were along the top balcony, on a second floor patio overlooking the general neighborhood. Thomas had the patio built overlooking the greater city of the East America First Cluster, once apparently known as New York City. The cluster is what the old societies would have termed a megalopolis, an urban area stretching an inordinate amount of space, as if a bunch of smaller cities merged into one big super-city. Thomas's Reclaimer group, being of modest means, managed to scratch together enough to move from the slums into what was a nice little enclave of green, compared to the gray of those slums.

"I look out at all of that, Tommy, and it's strange how there are these islands of green in the middle of all that neutral gray and whatever," Stormy said, already having made up nicknames for the her three Reclaimer hosts.

Thomas just chuckled at the braggadocio of Stormy as he continued on with the discussion. "Well, the Powers-that-Be said they wanted to construct these suburbs and Green Islands as sorta, I dunno how they termed it. I think it was 'Morale Boosters' and 'Goals to Shoot For'. I guess they figure everyone in the slums could pull themselves up high enough to buy something like this. I think me and my crew got lucky at first, we happened to get an assignment where he made a damn good haul, and from there we got the best assignments. Which means we got the best pay. And now, here we are in this reasonably nice house."

"So what about Choco? Did he come with the house or was he a gift or a purchase," Demi asked with some bit of trepidation. She was the girl who felt the most towards Choco, and the condition of all of the Slave Ponies.

"Well, Choco is a bit of an odd situation. Usually having a personal Slave Pony is only for the upper-middle class and the upper classes outright. We literally found him on a mission. He was left behind by his previous owner I can only assume; heard this whimpering, and there he was, sickly but still alive and breathing. Eventually we nursed him back to health and we couldn't bear to turn him in to a facility. So now he's our one-Pony house and yard maintenance crew," Thomas answered, rubbing his hand along his face and chin.

Stormy looked on at Choco in his shed-come-personal-barn, humming happily as he tended to his little personal flower garden. "Yeah, Choco isn't too bright by our standards. But, he means well enough, and does the best he can. I guess in the end that's all you can ask for. Just wish it'd hadn't had come to that. Who knows what he did in his past life: he could have been the worst of murderers, or some guy caught in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Thomas just put his head in his forehead to telegraph his internal consternation at the thought. "That's one of the things that always drives me crazy about the Slave Ponies. There shouldn't be any reason why they should be kept so... stupid, to be perfectly blunt. But girls, do you want to know what I believe, as crazy as it might sound?"

"Huh Mr. Pullman?" Demi and Stormy asked in unison.

"Not every Pony on this planet is in that condition. I don't know, but something just... it just tells me Celestia isn't the only right thinking Pony in existence. Although given what my ancestors did to her... might be hard to say she's right-thinking right now," Thomas responded, almost looking beyond the stretch of buildings and past into the vast wilds there were just now becoming wild again.

Stormy and Demi looked at each other for a few moments. This was one of the few times that they heard any human talk about Celestia, the White Horse Invader from Equus, without being metaphorically spitting upon her ‘grave’. At the same time, despite what they felt when the serum was used on them, they knew something was wrong the former matriarch. But all six of the girls were hard-pressed to figure out what exactly that something was.

===--===--===

The next hour or so was spent cleaning up the main area of the house, with Bubbles and Demi helping Choco in the task. Thomas and Professor Eastson were expecting a guest this afternoon, Eastson's granddaughter and geneticist in her own right, Diana.

"So when is she supposed to get here?" Stormy asked while perched up on the balcony near the staircase leading up to the second floor.

"According to her last call, within the next few minutes. She usually works and lives in the industrial part of Cluster-One so she doesn't get out to the Green Islands that much," Eastson replied, as his cube sat on a pedestal.

"So what is she like, Professor Eastson?" Dawn asked as she paced around a bit, brushing some of her tri-colored hair out of her face.

Eastson replied quickly, also while trying to calculate when exactly she should arrive given the prevailing travelling conditions. "Well, honestly it's been hard for me to contact her in the last ten years. Any message I send out from the labs had a potential for back-tracing. But while she was in the university she was like any other bookish girl."

Everyone just shrugged their shoulders as they began to formulate the mental images as best they could.

As Easton predicted, a nice looking car was heard pulling into the driveway of the Reclaimer's home. Everyone wondered if their quickly formulated mental images would come true. The lady then walked through the door, her hair somewhat messy, clothes a tad bit oversized given her figure, and lab coat still on. Her glasses also showed the signs of someone working around goop and chemicals all day, bits of green and red all over the frames.

"Ugh, I hate it when they try to get me to work overtime, I told them I was taking off at 3 PM but they simply insisted that I run a couple of trials on the bee prototypes again," the woman said as she was still clearly angry about not having a chance to get herself in better straits.

Professor Eastson chirpped up as the other nine just kinda stared at the woman who looked like she just walked through a wind tunnel. "So dear Dianne, how are you doing today? It's been far too long since we've talked."

"Other than the minor overtime, just fine grandpa. Anyway, I have a change of clothes in my car. Would you mind if I delayed for a while to get cleaned up?" Dianne asked as she frowned at how rough she looked, looking back at herself in a compact mirror.

"Oh yeah, Jewel can show you around upstairs, right?" Thomas asked when he finally snapped himself back to the present.

"Yes, yes I can," the blue-haired dame stated, got up and went next to the stairwell.

After a few moments, Dianne walked back in with her change of clothes that Jewel went to put in the automatic presser, while Dianne herself went upstairs to shower and get her hair straightened out.

The next 45 minutes were passed with various side discussions and games, most notably Demi playing checkers with Choco and Choco keeping up a little bit with Demi.

Afterward, Dianne finally came back downstairs. She looked much more 'normal', wearing blouse and a knee length skirt with stockings and flats. To her and most outside observers, it was semi-conservative, but still far better at showing off her figure than her normal work clothes. After a few minutes of introductions, they began talking more earnestly.

"Well it's nice to see that you clean up well, almost literally," Harold said somewhat jokingly.

Dianne just sighed and chuckled. "And it's nice to see that you're a pretty honest guy. Truth be told, I don't like dressing like this while I'm on the clock. The boys tend to pay too much attention to me versus their work. And with the sensitive things we work on, that really can't hold."

That last statement perked Dawn's attention. "Oh? So what do you and your lab work on, Miss Eastson?"

Dianne crossed her legs and thought a few moments, deciding to go ahead an answer. "We are working on bio-mechanical equivalents of various dead or low-population species in order to get the Earth’s biological environment working in a more independent manner."

Most of the non eggheads in the audience were visibly confused by the statement, so Dianne proceeded to clarify. "Well, insects and other tiny actors are needed to make sure the world keeps turning, metaphorically. Pollination, corpse decomposition, so on and so forth. We cannot be so reliant on active management of Slave Ponies and larger machines."

Everyone began to nod in various degrees after thinking about it for a few moments.

"Are you all willing to indulge me while I step on my soapbox for a bit?" Dianne asked, while looking at the group for any dissent or the like.

"That is why I requested this little meet and greet," Professor Eastson replied. "I wanted you to tell the girls here the condition of the wider world in the current day. I think you'll be a little better, no offense, than the Reclaimers at giving the macro picture."

Thomas just shrugged while he continued to listen to the good miss Doctor.

Dianne then continued. "Well part of the problem, as far as I can see, is that the world outside of the purview of the City Clusters is still in very poor conditions. It is almost impossible for anything to live far away from a Cluster, and this feels like a grave problem to me."

Everyone looked at each other, trying to figure out what exactly the problem was.

"It means that the Powers-that-Be basically have too much direct control over things. Think about the forced Slave Ponification for minor offenses, along with the lack of ability for more people to live a decent life and truly pursue what they want to. All of it just implies that they want to keep the clamps on the population at large so that they can continue on their glide path. The problem is, that aside from the accumulation of wealth and social power, I have no idea what the end game is."

"You'd think already being on top of the world would be enough. I guess if you got everything but still want something, you have to start making up some kind of goal to achieve," Richard mused out loud.

Dianne nodded in agreement. "You know, you might not be too far off the mark, Mr. Richard. The rumors are rampant that the odd requests are starting to come from the upper echelons. If said rumors are true, then it appears the Powers-that-Be are growing bored with the state of things."

"I would say that so long as it stayed in the upper circles it'd be fine. But it won't be fine until things start to get, I guess, unclogged in the lower echelons. A lot to think about as we try to find out way out here," Demi said while stroking Choco's mane.

Dianne nodded again in agreement. "Indeed, Demi. What you all and my grandfather have said about your, peculiar circumstances, has piqued my interest. I'm afraid that any extensive interviews or in-depth demonstrations would have to wait until I can get a weekend off, though."

"I believe we could still show you some things of interest," Dawn said, beaming with pride in the gifts bestowed upon her and other five.

"Since I do have the rest of the day off, that would be nice," Dianne said as she went into the kitchen with Bubbles to looking for something prepare for a late lunch for everyone.

===---===---===

Meanwhile, in a nice office in the Inter-Dimensional Spirit Bureaucracy Central Committee there 'sat' a rather curious looking figure. He simply watched various footage of the Ponies-in-exile wandering about trying to figure how they were going to deal with eternity; incredibly amused by the entire spectacle.

"Oh dear Luna, what are you and your cohorts going to do with the rest of Time staring you all in the face..."

In another direction, he could 'see' the thoughts of the imprisoned Princess of Equestria, buried deep under the ground of the Earth-8437. He could not figure out what was more amusing: Luna and the other miscreants in Purgatory trying to wander through the mists of time, or Celestia trapped a glorified coffin.

"And dear Celestia, how it must plague you not knowing what happened do your Dear Sister and your subjects, how it must plague you indeed..."

He simply laughed for the next few minutes, before an attendant knocked on his door. It was time for him to attend yet another of the imminently boring Council meetings.

"Well my two favorite former Council-members, I do have work to do!"