Eclipse

Chapters

Chapter One: Standard Operating Procedure
Chapter Two: Impossibilities
Chapter Three: Charades and a Handshake
Chapter Four: Redefine Possible
Chapter Five: Reception
Chapter Six: Beyond the Sky

Chapter One: Standard Operating Procedure

A timer installed at the front of the bridge was counting down the little time that remained. It had been set nearly twenty years ago, and the bridge crew, an assortment of dedicated experts in their respective fields, watched it anxiously. Seated deep within the colossal metal hull of Eclipse, the bridge wasn't a large place; no part of a starship is larger than it needs to be. In chairs that sat in front of workstations, the ship's command crew of four stared at the decrementing timer. A screen dominated its front, and handholds adorned many surfaces of the room's uniform gray interior, a provision for maneuvering in microgravity.

The timer reached zero with a tone, indicating arrival at the coordinates designated by the navigator at the start of the voyage. Eclipse slowed to sublight velocities. They had arrived at last, hopefully. "Navigation, check," the Skipper ordered. "Fire boosters, eliminate gravitational spin."

If they had arrived, that would mean they were in high orbit over the planet designated P-0134-A. In a figurative sea of stars, planets, and other matter, this particular world was chosen primarily for one reason. 'One-Thirty-Four' was no regular planet, but a habitable one.

"Uh huh," Killian acknowledged in an ever-so-slightly jovial tone, scanning his workstation's readouts. "Firing boosters, simulated gravity disabled. I was off by ten thousand kilometers, but we're here, Skipper." Killian Reynolds was the chief navigator aboard Eclipse. His brows were arched in sternness, and even in such an exciting time as this, he did not smile. As the ship became oriented with the planet being 'downward', the interior of the ship was filled with the distinctive feel of microgravity.

"Ventral camera. Let's see our new home." The Skipper could barely keep his voice level. He, along with over seven thousand others, had long waited for this day, the day that they would arrive to stake a claim on the first earthlike planet ever to be visited by mankind. The excitement, he was certain, was felt by every man and woman aboard.

"Sure thing, Skipper." The display at the front of the bridge lit up as communications officer Marcus Thorne flipped a switch on his console. He was younger than the other two men and perhaps more eager than both combined. An all-encompassing view of the lone planet in the system, as blue as Earth was with its water covering, but with a distinctly alien geography, appeared on the large screen situated at the front of the bridge.

"Close enough, Killian," the Skipper said.

"No, no, not close enough, Skipper. Had I made that mistake in some other direction, or misplaced a decimal another place-"

"Killian, why does it matter? You won't be plotting another FTL course in your entire life!" Marcus exclaimed, then glanced back at his console. "Skipper, Topography A reports that their survey is underway. Launch bay reports that atmospheric analysis drones have been launched." He spun, strapped down in his chair, to face the Skipper. "Isn't this exciting!?"

The Skipper did not answer the communications officer's question; it was answered well enough by the wide grin on his face. "Sensors, what have we got?"

Life support officer Kathy Wright doubled as sensors officer and would triple as chief xenobiologist when they made planetfall. She began to list off the various bits of information displayed by her workstation, as relayed by those manning sensory instruments aboard. "Orbit path is clear. That star is... orbiting around the planet, as I've got it here. Looks like those kooky theories were correct after all. One natural satellite, as probe telemetry has, well, already told us. No other planets, as we already know." She paused, inputting several commands on her workstation before looking up again at her display. "Oh, preliminary geographical analysis coming in. Three continents, one bigger than the others. Eighty-one percent water coverage, one hundred and one point six percent Earth gravity. No peculiar noise on radio frequencies, radiation levels within acceptable limits-"

The Skipper interrupted her with an order. He didn't need to hear how earthlike this place was another time. All he needed was confirmation from one of his crew instead of those guys sitting on Pluto that spent their days listening for probe telemetry. "Killian, bring us into geostationary orbit over the center of the largest continent. Let's give the boys down in topography something more important than the ocean to look at."

"Um-hm," came the navigator's reply. The ship shuddered slightly as its plasma engines came online for the first time since Eclipse departed the shipyard.

Several anxious minutes went by. It was established as procedure for this type of mission that no action to land would be undertaken until topographical studies were conducted thoroughly enough to find an optimal spot for planetfall. A tone rang out, and Marcus scanned his console. "Skipper," the communications officer began, "urgent from topography A."

The Skipper nodded, and Marcus hit the intercom switch. "Skipper, there's something down here you've got to see!" said the voice from the speaker, with enthusiasm never before expressed by the chief topographer.

"Would you mind telling me from there?" the Skipper asked. "Or, even better, give us your feed."

"Yes, Skipper, right away–here you are." The monitor at the front of the bridge lit up with a different image, this time from the powerful imaging system used by the topography lab. What it showed was something the Skipper–and the rest of the bridge crew–didn't expect to ever see. Appearing on the monitor was a clear aerial view of a modestly-sized... town.

A town. A town of buildings and movement. Not just life, but civilization. Jaws dropped. "You haven't seen the best of it, yet," said the voice from the intercom. The image enhanced, tracking one moving object. It enhanced further and further, until the alien was clearly visible. A light-blue quadruped with a horn protruding from its forehead, a basket... levitating, as it seemed, immediately in front of it, full of what appeared to be some sort of fruit.

"Are you sure these... life forms are not simply wildlife?" The creature looked like a horse, but more specifically like some sort of unicorn. Whatever it might have been, it was oddly-colored, that was certain.

"Positive. There is no indication of any other creatures that might be influencing their movements. Skipper, we're looking at aliens. Sentient horse aliens, you fancy that? Oh, wait, there's more." The topographer adjusted the zoom and acquired another specimen of this species, this one a shade of yellow. "This one has wings..." He moved it again, to yet a third specimen, burgundy. Each one, had some sort of mark on their hindquarters, though none of these could be made out clearly at this altitude, even with such powerful magnification. "This one has neither a horn nor wings..." He panned once more, this time to a pair of the colorful natives. "And these two, Skipper, are talking."

Kathy carefully observed the creatures' deliberate movements. They were looking at just what the topographer had said–horse aliens, or, more accurately, horse aliens, pegasus aliens, and unicorn aliens. Remarkable, she thought, that such variety could exist. The unexplainable levitating basket, however, was almost as remarkable. Either this was evidence of advanced technology in this town of theirs, or more evidence that this world did not follow the same rules as the only other life-supporting planet ever observed, that being Earth. She let out a thoughtful sigh, but said nothing. She'd wait for hands-on analysis to make heads or tails of these creatures. She could hardly wait to get her hands on some specimens.

"What are we going to do, Skipper?" the topographer asked through the intercom. "Let the crew know?"

The previous Earth day, the Skipper had gone over standard operating procedure for various scenarios Eclipse was prepared for. This particular one, finding P-0134-A to be inhabited, had been one of them. A course of action would be determined by the commanding officer depending on various factors such as technological sophistication. It hadn't been thought likely that this scenario would come to pass, and yet, here it was, shown clearly on a monitor, right in front of him.

He cleared his throat. "Yes, let them know. We're no longer colonists, ladies and gentlemen: we're visitors. It's up to them whether we stay or go." He paused for a moment to gauge the reactions of the bridge crew, who nodded in turn when he looked at each of them, then smiled. "Let's just hope they have room for seven thousand more. Kathy, what have our drones uncovered?"

"In short, air's breathable, Skipper. We don't know anything about local microbial life just yet," she replied.

Alien viruses and bacteria. Human immune systems were completely unprepared to deal with such things, should they find humans to be valid targets, which was unlikely, but possible. Eclipse's crew had immune systems strengthened with genetically-engineered microbes, though at any rate, any cross-contamination was a risk.

"Alright, come nightfall, we're going down there. Topography, find out all you can before nightfall on this area of the planet. We're looking for signs of technology, population centers, a landing site, and a colony site. Inform Topography B."

"Yes, Skipper, right away. We'll take a peek and send our findings your way," came the reply from the intercom. The Skipper gestured at Marcus to toggle the communication line.

"Well, this is unexpected," Killian said. "This place is so... odd, I don't like it."

"What don't you like?" the Skipper asked. "Alien life, sentient life. It's a discovery to go down in the history books. We're here, we're safe, and we may be welcomed here." The Skipper knew how optimistic he sounded, but when other outcomes soured his mind to believe in their likelihood, he decided it best to project the best possible scenario: that their mission was not compromised by some colorful horse aliens, and that they'd allow the colony to exist peacefully.

"It's just not right, here. The star is not obeying the laws of physics–that I know for sure–and this place is so uncannily-earthlike that it seems too good to be true. I just don't like it. All we've learned about this place makes me uneasy, and we've only just got here."

The Skipper chuckled, scratching his mustache. "Are you suggesting that this is some sort of trap? A mirage?" he asked, half-jokingly. Killian always had been a worrywort; few days went by during which he'd not raise some concern or another about any number of things. Caution was an excellent attribute for someone of his position, but ambition was a must for explorers.

"No, Skipper, it's just-"

"For crying out loud, Killian, nothing has gone wrong, and there's no indication that something will," Marcus interrupted. Killian shot him a glare. While on relatively good terms with both himself and Kathy, Killian and Marcus merely seemed to tolerate one another. Their personalities, the Skipper supposed, just didn't match. Even their physical appearances clashed; Killian was a heavy-built man of below-average height, while Marcus was thin and tall.

"Or that it won't," Kathy interjected, with an unexpected joviality. "We shouldn't jump to conclusions about anything out here. Meeting intelligent life is a very delicate matter, one we won't get another shot at until we find another inhabited planet, which may never happen. The star throws all of our rules out the window and blows a raspberry at them, sure, but it hasn't done us any harm, and neither has this planet or its inhabitants. There is much more to this place than meets the eye, I agree with you on that, but we can not let that hold us back, or scare us off."

"Thank you, Kathy. Marcus," the Skipper began, changing the subject, "let the crew know."

Marcus nodded, and leaned in to the microphone on his station, then keyed the PA system. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have discovered that there is intelligent life on the surface of the planet. Quadrupedal herbivores, as far as we know. Stay tuned for further announcements, and remember to take your D-vitamin supplements. Review your protocol packets."

*****

Twilight Sparkle's telescope was a gift from the Princess herself: one of the most powerful ever made, she'd been told. Tonight, she'd do some stargazing, a rather calming activity for the studious mare. Adjusting the instrument with her magic, she aimed the telescope at her usual reference point, the Moon, to finish her adjustments and leaned in to gaze through the layers of magnifying glass.

A small, peculiar grey object, apparently too small to be seen with the naked eye, could be seen in front of the moon. It did not move with the stellar object as it went through the sky. Levitating a cloth to the end of the telescope, she wiped it, then looked back through the optic and frowned. The object was still there. She switched lenses and focused it. Again, it was still there.

Upon closer inspection, the object was a long, almost cylindrical–or perhaps rectangular–thing. She'd seen nothing like it before. With no lenses more powerful to see the object through, she noted whatever she could about the object as the enticing notion of sleep became stronger and stronger until its call became irresistible.

*****

The Eclipse's launch bay was home to a dozen collapsible Luna-class shuttles, for reconnaissance and transport. Provisions had been made to arm them, should it prove necessary to do so. There had been no telling what kind of creatures Eclipse would find on this planet, and they could well have been much stronger and hardier than those on Earth, for a variety of reasons.

As such, Eclipse had–unusually for a civilian vessel–an armory, a big one. Maintained aboard was a security force of sorts–one thousand of the crew were trained to a varying extent in handling weaponry. The C-40 assault rifle was their standard issue, a weapon that held many small armor-piercing projectiles in a magazine, and usually fired three-round bursts. Eclipse carried enough supplies of the weapon and its ammunition for the entire force. Along with it was the main 'armament' of the ship, which consisted of numerous railgun turrets intended for shooting down asteroids, and what the higher-ups of humanity's government, SolGov, had called 'handling other threats.'

The notion that any of these weapons could be necessary at all worried the Skipper, though he knew them to be justified; Eclipse was made to be equipped for any situation, including armed conflict with mutineers and boarding by hostile entities. Also visible in the launch bay were a dozen all-terrain six-seated vehicles, capable of being stored within a Luna. These vehicles resembled an armored personnel carrier more than a small bus or a van, but were unarmed, again with provisions for arming them. Equipped for anything, the Skipper mused.

"Are you sure we shouldn't wait until the next night to do this? It wouldn't hurt to wait, I think," Killian said. As with Kathy and many members of the crew, he had other responsibilities that started after Eclipse arrived at P-0134-A, or in his case, since he plotted the course; he was the chief of security. Along with a deputy, Sean Powell, he'd provide security for the landing party, the rest of which consisted of Kathy, her two assistants, and the Skipper.

"There's no reason to, Killian. The sooner we know more about this place's life forms, the sooner we can make contact and find out if these aliens won't kill us if we land in their backyard more overtly," the Skipper explained, bringing up a map on a nearby monitor. "We'll land on the eastern end of this forest, opposite this town–the one Topography showed us–take a look around, take samples, and take off before daybreak. If we encounter something we can't handle, or anything of that sort, we'll retreat."

"Once we know how the life here works," Kathy continued, "we can decide what actions to take depending on how compatible the biochemistry of life forms here is with ours. Local wildlife will not recognize our scent or appearance, and might be scared away. If they aren't, and decide to attack instead," she chuckled, "you're the security chief, not me."

Killian smiled for a moment, but that smile quickly faded into his usual stern expression. He looked at his rifle, the blue-taped box magazine firmly inserted within its receiver, with four more on his vest, two of which bore red tape. Most of the crew for this mission wore nothing out of the ordinary–thick jumpsuits composed of composite materials, gloves, boots, and dome-like helmets with air filters and built-in lights. The two security personnel had slightly different equipment, consisting of the same jumpsuit but with a body armor vest bearing markings denoting their status as security, a rifle, baton, and fingerless gloves to facilitate their use. The Skipper, along with each member of the xenobiology team, was armed with a Tranquijolt pistol, a shot from which incapacitated the target chemically and applied a long-lasting, non-lethal electrical charge to a target as well. The scientists each carried a backpack for samples. Only the fingers of the security team were exposed; the helmets came with an attachment for the neck.

"In the event of contact with hostile sentient inhabitants, we pacify them and make sure they're safe before we leave. If they're anything like us, their people will think they're nuts and ignore them, just as they did on Earth." This made the Skipper chuckle a bit as he thought about what he'd just implied, that aliens had indeed visited Earth, but they'd done the same thing they were prepared to do themselves. "We can't be too careful, though. We'll avoid any and all contact, understood?"

Each of them nodded at the Skipper before the team boarded the shuttle. It was time for a little bit of field work.

Chapter Two: Impossibilities

A slight shake indicated successful landing of the Luna. The Skipper looked at the pilot. "I hope you don't mind waiting for a while."

"It's no problem," he said. "Don't worry about me."

The ramp opened, and the compartment the team stood within began to fill with the air of the alien world. One by one they stepped out of their craft into the night, switching on their headlamps and taking a look around. "Wow," one of the xenobiologists said, capturing fully in one small word the wonder of the moment. Eclipse had made it. There they stood, on the surface of an alien world, the first one of its kind ever to have been set foot upon by man.

"I wonder what the air smells like..." Deputy Powell pondered aloud.

The Skipper turned toward their destination for this mission, a dense forest, as the xenobiologists ran initial tests and took samples of the grass-like plants and flowers. Within the forest, however, there would be many more varieties of life. This was assuming that forests here were like those on Earth, something that had not yet been proven in the slightest. The foliage was a bit too thick to get much information out of it from the outside.

"Alright, let's move out," the Skipper ordered, moving slowly toward the forest, feeling every step for the now-alien feel of soil beneath his feet through his boots. It felt very good, in a subtle way, to stand on the secure, solid ground. He didn't doubt that the rest of the team felt the same way.

Killian swept his helmet lamp across the tree line. "That is one thick forest," he muttered softly.

The thick underbrush was quickly found to contain thorn bushes, which thankfully did not cause anything more than mild surprise. Injury would necessitate a heavy quarantine, and likely an immediate retreat. Nobody wanted to handle that mess. "Powell, Jennings, Markov, you take left. Reynolds, Wright, with me," the Skipper ordered. "We'll cover more ground." They had a mission time frame of three Earth hours. That meant around eight minutes shorter than one of this planet's hours, if a scale of twenty-four to a 'day' was used. The star rose and set in a time frame very similar to Earth's, but the planet itself spun very slowly.

The pair of teams' headlamps illuminated branches, vines, oddly-shaped logs, and other vegetation, all the while casting fearsome shadows that might have scared them had they been alone in this dense alien forest. Navigation through it would be merely an inconvenience as long as the Skipper wore his helmet. With it, he would be able to make the beacon of the Luna visible from over five kilometers away as a semi-transparent red chevron. Through the rustling of the bushes he treaded through, Killian swore he heard an owl. He swung about to report his discovery, and tripped on a root, landing in a bed of blue flowers.

The navigator struggled to his feet, picking up his rifle and shaking off alien pollen, grumbling. Kathy's warning voice began to speak, echoed just slightly afterward by the radio as she knelt to carefully collect one of the blue flowers with a trained hand. "Careful, these plants could have defensive mechanisms. Try not to let anything touch your skin." Killian bobbed his head in acknowledgement. They'd all go through quarantine procedures before coming back aboard Eclipse anyway.

Sean Powell felt on-edge, feeling as though the forest had enveloped all six of them, and that there would be no escape. An irrational feeling, he told himself. After all, he had a gun, nothing had gone wrong yet, and the Skipper could lead them back, no problem. He heard a rustling from behind him. Just in front of him were scientists Jennings and Markov, the Skipper and the others somewhere off to the left.

He spun and raised his rifle. Standing, obscured in the brush, was an animal, the first one he'd seem. It looked kind of like a chicken. It turned its head toward him, and locked bright red eyes with the deputy's, who found it difficult to avert his gaze from the creature's. "Hey, guys-" Powell began, then found that he could no longer speak. He attempted to scream as he found that he could not move his arms or legs. Nothing came out.

The Skipper was about to respond when his heads-up-display issued a warning. The box representing team member six went yellow, representing an irregularity, then to black, which indicated no life signs. His heart skipped a beat. "Powell!" he shouted, "Powell, do you read me!? Jennings, Markov, report!"

Markov drew his pistol and looked about to see that Powell had been standing behind him, stock-still, rifle in hand. He tapped on the deputy's shoulder and looked into his helmet. His face was contorted into a scream, frozen. "S-sir, he's..." An inhuman shriek from beside him drew his attention to a medium-sized creature that had just erupted from the brush. A quickly-aimed shot put a tranquilizer dart into the midsection of the creature, felling the beast.

What he saw upon inspection of the creature was surprising. Its body was scaled and green, with wings like those of a bat and a head and legs like those of a chicken. Cockatrice, he thought, impossible! He cleared his throat. "Sir, Powell encountered a... cockatrice; he's been turned to stone. I put it to sleep, sir. Did this thing just kill Powell?"

The Skipper didn't answer the question. "Markov, did you just call that thing a cockatrice?"

"Y-yeah, a cockatrice. Body of a... dragon, with the head of a chicken, and it turned him to stone. Is he still alive, sir?"

"Form up, we've got to take Powell and this beast back to the ship," the Skipper ordered, then switched communication channels. "Prep the Luna, we are leaving!"

*****

The hasty retreat from the planet, and the circumstances surrounding it, had all crew members–excluding the pilot of the shuttle–confined inside until it was certain that whatever had befallen Sean Powell would not spread. This particular Luna, along with two others, was specifically outfitted for research tasks. It contained limited lab equipment, bunks, and storage.

Kathy scrutinized the cockatrice, noting again its similar features to those of Earth chickens, and to cockatrices of mythology. What's it like inside? she wondered. How deep did its similarity go? It occurred to her then, that the unknown was what awaited her team inside this sedated creature. How exciting.

The Skipper had ordered that the cause of Powell's petrification be determined immediately. The very prospect that he'd already lost a crewman–and to a supernatural being, no less–worried him to no end. He was going to have to mark his loss as the first ever lost in the exploration of an inhabited alien world, among other things. He stared at the standing statue that was Powell. Maybe he isn't totally gone yet, he thought, again entertaining his optimistic side and blocking souring notions. The natives might be able to help...

Killian had chosen Powell for this mission. A smart fellow, quick to learn, ordered, and obedient. Perfect for a sensitive mission such as this. Now, he stood immobile in the lab, for all intents and purposes, dead. The scientists had no idea how to approach the statue-corpse, whether he was really still alive or not. Regardless, the Skipper did not allow any cutting, just a small carefully-extracted sample from the hair on top of the deputy's head. The weight upon his mind tired him, and he soon retired to one of the bunks within the craft. He would be the only one of the team to get any sleep that night.

*****

Killian opened his eyes to see the dull interior of the Luna craft. He noticed something wrong with his vision, as though his eyes were in different positions. Were they closer together, or farther apart? He extended a hand to rub his eyes and correct the issue, only to find that he no longer had fingers, nor did he have hands. A dark blue appendage instead extended itself toward his eyes. Startled, he flailed his limbs and sent himself off of his bunk and into the microgravity of the ship. Killian screamed as he realized the nightmarish situation he now found himself in. He was no longer human, but one of the native creatures he'd seen on the monitor hours ago on the bridge. This was certain; with four legs and a mark distinctive of a native on either side of his hindquarters, there was no doubt. Tumbling helpless in the air, unable to determine what to do, Killian wailed until the someone came into the bunk area.

"Killian!? Are you alright!?" The Skipper rushed into the room, and found himself speechless at the sight of what sounded like his navigator, but looked like a navy-blue quadrupedal alien, floating, flailing its limbs about. Grabbing hold of the afflicted navigator, he dragged it and himself into the lab compartment, where he was met with gasps.

"Where did that come from?" Kathy asked, dumbfounded.

"That's Killian."

*****

"C-can't you do something?!" Killian yelled. The biologists had confirmed that nothing contagious had been brought aboard, and that all samples were contained. Now, in the gravity cylinder of the ship's main clinic, Killian stood along with the statue of Sean Powell. The Skipper had just left for the bridge.

"No, not yet at least," Kathy replied, comparing a slide of his new skin to skin cells collected from his clothing, obviously also his. She often hummed while doing her work, and to Killian's annoyance, didn't even seem perturbed, just intrigued.

"Isn't this... impossible? Have I really turned into a talking horse!? Do you have any idea whether it's permanent or not!?"

"Not yet. Relax, Killian, you're just fine. Or, at least, I'm sure we'll be able to figure something out." She smiled at him, apparently attempting to be at least a little reassuring to him. "And, hopefully, so will he. The Skipper will come up with something."

"You mean, you've got no idea what to do? Wonderful, wonderful. The Skipper will just, make all of these problems disappear, won't he? I suppose we'd better hope so." Killian continued to pace around the room, practicing the four-legged gait of his new form. He didn't relish the concept of having to get used to being like this on a permanent basis, specifically, but what worried him more was just how implausible it was that he was spontaneously turned into an alien with no explanation. It seemed almost like some sick joke.

"Y'know, I always wanted a pony when I was little," Kathy said, non-chalantly. "But we could never get one. Nowhere to ride it, anyway." Killian glared back at her. "Sorry." Kathy wasn't the kind of doctor that had a practiced bedside manner; she was a scientist. The situation had called not for a medical doctor, but a scientific one.

Killian had been told that he appeared to be completely healthy. The real ailment here was what he now was. This was something that, Kathy seemed to logically assume, raw science would be able to explain. All he'd done was fall on some plants, and Kathy had already examined those plants and their pollen, only to find that they had no detectable gimmick to them. Still, she had expressed suspicion about them.

Kathy had ranted about how, despite the fact that life here had evolved coded on a biomolecule that was not deoxyribonucleic acid, many processes observed so far were functionally identical to those found in Earth-bound organisms. All major roles in Earth's ecosystem were present, producer to decomposer. More than anything, it seemed to him like it was a great big grade-school science project to the biologist.

"Don't humans and... horses have different numbers of chromosomes? Even if I were actually an Earth pony, wouldn't turning me from a human into one of them be completely impossible? Aren't hybrids like ligers and mules only possible because of a similar number of chromosomes? I mean, we've got what, forty-six, and... what do horses have?"

"You're absolutely right, Killian, that isn't really possible, at least not conventionally-"

Killian stomped a hoof and looked at it, shuddering. "What is it then? Tell me you aren't proposing that it 'simply is that way', because that's what we said about the star, and I'm tired of hearing that! Look at Powell. Powell is made of stone now, because of a mythological cockatrice! Is that normal? No, it's not. We've arrived in a land out of a fairy tale, or a children's cartoon, a place of mythology!"

She sighed, "I can't explain that, Killian. Nobody can, not yet. We'll get to the bottom of this eventually, don't worry. Such extreme changes don't just happen. Something causes them, we'll find out what." The natives quite possibly had the answers.

The navigator sighed deeply and sat, shifting uncomfortably in his unnatural skin. "I sure hope so."

Kathy moved to the motionless, restrained cockatrice. "This creature has no detectable gland, or other weapons of any sort, that could afflict Powell with this condition. For that matter, there is no compound known to science that can simply convert flesh into stone, or, a material quite much like stone. It just simply doesn't seem to work."

"Doesn't 'work,'" Killian spat. "But what does around here? There's got to be a force that we can identify that explains this." He stood up again, and trotted to Kathy's side. "Can we even kill these things?"

"Not this one. The Skipper wants it alive. But... yes, we are most certainly capable of killing them. They bleed and have vital organs just like us." She patted him on the head several times. She then appeared to realize what she was doing and stopped. "Well, that's one thing that makes sense," she said, awkwardly. "And... perhaps we now know what those marks on the aliens' hindquarters mean. Roughly." Killian sighed again.

*****

Killian, the Skipper, Kathy, the statue that was Sean Powell, the sedated cockatrice, and three of Eclipse's language professors prepared to embark on another landing expedition, this time to make contact with an alien race, face-to-face. There was no telling what to expect of the natives' language, and something had to be done about that as soon as possible in order to establish communications to some degree, which would be a prerequisite for peaceful establishment of their colony. Additionally, if anyone could help the two afflicted crewmen of the Eclipse, it was the natives, the Skipper figured.

He'd formed a plan. First, they would land within sight of the settlement closest to the forest they'd explored the other day, and approach on foot. No small arms would be worn as to avoid a negative reaction. Just in case, however, the Luna they were taking had arms aboard. In case of what, one might ask. In case of anything. The Skipper did not plan to lose more crew members to his own carelessness, as he had the previous night, deep within that dense forest.

Eclipse's journey had been punctuated with few deaths. Forty-six, to count over many years, forty-seven with Powell, whose state of life had yet to really be decided. That count, the Skipper realized grimly, had become much more likely to rise now that the actual journey was over.

Today, he decided, the next step of this journey would really begin: negotiations with the natives.

Chapter Three: Charades and a Handshake

The Luna swooped in to land on a field just west of the settlement. To the team's moderate surprise, it was clearly visible through the shuttle's several windows that one of the flying natives–a pegasus–was flying alongside the shuttle, somehow. Kathy was amazed by the fact that these creatures could fly at all: their shape, and likely their weight, were clearly not suitable for flight. Thinking logically, they appeared to be less aerodynamic than a man in a wingsuit, and yet, they could fly at speeds rivalling that of their craft. It was a light blue color, with a mane and tail striped with colors of the rainbow. The creature looked toward the windows, cracked what could only be a smile, and began to move faster than the shuttle. Whatever competition it was wanting to have would have to wait, as the shuttle landed several seconds later.

"Looks like we've been noticed," Killian deadpanned, looking through a window. Flying aliens had begun to gather.

"That's the point," the Skipper said. "Pilot, open the ramp."

With an electronic noise, the pilot complied. Moving slowly and deliberately, the three linguists and the Skipper disembarked. The multitude of pegasi watched them from the air, but had not landed. The Skipper swallowed. This is it. Such an immediate interception was not quite planned for, but what could he expect?

For several seconds, the field was in silence. Visible in the distance were ground-bound aliens, beginning to close the distance to the landed shuttle. Killian began to roll out the statue that was Sean Powell, and Kathy rolled out the cockatrice, strapped to a gurney and sedated. She carried a sample backpack containing various samples of plant life that had been discovered here.

The pegasi began to chat amongst themselves, in a language nobody on the team had any knowledge of. The linguists began to take notes on small wrist-mounted computers and switched on recording devices. The Skipper decided to step forward, and raised both of his hands slowly. "We come in peace," he said, in a level, loud voice. The chatter was squelched. Your move, the Skipper mused, swallowing. It was clear what advantage the natives had over them, in both speed and numbers.

Twilight Sparkle fixed her gaze on the mysterious object; the one outside Ponyville that, according to Rainbow Dash, had someone inside. It had accumulated quite a crowd of pegasi about it. They had been the ones to notice it first, and so had gotten there first. She could see its upper portions, but there was more below what she could see, obscured by the ground.

"Twilight!" Rainbow had said. "You've got to see this! A giant metal thing swooped down from the sky! It had someone inside, and not ponies or griffons or anything like that! It landed..." She'd pointed a hoof out the window, roughly to the east. "Over there! C'mon!"

That was all the explanation that had been given before Rainbow had left and sped off, saying something about informing the others. It was all Twilight needed. If this was what she thought it was, this was something big. Getting closer, it was evident that the object was, as Rainbow said, a metallic construct, and a large one. It had wings, large, flat ones in a long triangular shape. It obviously didn't float, as anything that big and made of metal couldn't possibly fly very fast and be powered by hot air. Such a thing would be preposterous. The thing had to have some sort of engine. Maybe it was steam powered, or magic powered, but even then, it didn't look like those wings flapped; there were no feathers on them that she could see from this distance, and what flies that has metallic wings?

Cresting a small hill, she stopped to catch her breath, but instead gasped. Now in sight of the ground the ship had landed on, she saw them. Standing, in front of the ship, was an earth pony and what appeared to be five bipedal creatures, the likes of which she had never seen before. They looked like they were wearing domed clear helmets and were clad, neck to foot, in what had to be clothing of mostly a dark blue color, which was also very close to the color of the earth pony. In the front of the group, one of the unknown creatures had both of its upper limbs in the air. What was it doing? Did it come from... Twilight shook the thought; the object she'd seen the other night through her telescope was nothing like this one, except for its grayish-silver color. It was, however, clearly some sort of foreign flying machine. Nagging thoughts wrestled with her reasoning mind. The concept that these beings might be from space was almost overwhelmingly tantalizing, but too fantastic to believe just yet. There'd have to be more proof before she could safely reach that conclusion.

Twilight teleported to the immediate front of the group. Somepony would know what was going on here. The entire group that had, she presumed, come from the ship jumped as though surprised, letting out startled noises and holding up their upper–or forward, in the stallion's case–limbs in shielding postures for a moment, before slowly lowering them again. Checking her own posture, nervous now, she examined the closest unknown visually.

Through its helmet, it clearly had a flat face, with no snout to speak of, and a protruding nose. Instead of the top sides of the head, its ears were situated closer to the middle, on the sides. She peered into its small brown eyes, which stared, intelligently, right back at her. It didn't have a coat of substance that she could see, just a group of black hairs surrounding its mouth, a mustache by any name, which matched the very short mane atop its head in color. Both had more than the slightest flecks of gray in them. Its skin was a somewhat darker shade than the light pink of bare pony skin, and slightly yellowish and wrinkled. From the look of it, this one was male, but she couldn't reliably tell through all of its clothing, the purpose of which was also uncertain, but may have had something to do with their relative hairlessness.

"Hello, my name is Twilight Sparkle. What are you doing here in Ponyville? What is this machine, if you don't mind me asking?" she questioned, in an inquisitive, friendly tone. The creature in front of her turned to face the earth pony, who said nothing, and let out a sigh.

A closer look at the rest of the group revealed one much more horrifying element; one of the creatures had been petrified by a cockatrice, one of which lay motionless, strapped to a gurney of sorts, nearby. Were they asking for help? Twilight opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the dark blue stallion, whose cutie mark, she had discerned, was a number of stars of several different colors. Was he some sort of astronomer? Was this some sort of spacepony? The signs for that being the likely scenario increased by the second, but, again, remained unconfirmed. Until then, she would consider the prospect folly. However, evidence was building. The peculiar object in front of the moon, the peculiar object that landed and disgorged these peculiar passengers, and these passengers' peculiar behavior and physiology.

"I can't understand her, Skipper," Killian said to the stares of his colleagues. Kathy made a remark about Killian's ease in recognizing the species' females. He glared at the biologist. Killian wore no helmet, and thus, had no identification signal and radio on him; nothing they had fit him. He had to walk around naked, to Killian's mild distaste. At least he had a coat of hair.

"Kathy, can it. Recorder is going, right?" the Skipper asked the nearest newly-appointed xenolinguist, then spun to face the lavender unicorn again, the one that had somehow just teleported in front of them, and talked to them.

He nodded in response.

"It sounded like she was asking us a question," Killian said. "Probably something along the lines of 'What the hell is this giant metal thing?' or, 'What and who the hell are you?' Probably both, I'd wager. That's what I'd ask, before asking 'What do you want?'"

The Skipper sighed deeply. This was going nowhere fast, though he'd hardly expected it to. The only thing they could do was make these creatures speak more. The inquiring unicorn began to speak again.

"Can I help you with..." she waved a hoof in the direction of the petrified biped, "this? I have just the thing at home." The copy of Supernaturals she possessed contained a remedy for cockatrice-induced petrification, if she recalled correctly, amongst other things. Nearly immediately, she realized the futility of her attempts at communication: they evidently did not speak Equestrian.

Without a word from its companions, one of the vessel's former occupants took what looked like a bag of sorts from its back and set it on the ground. From the looks of things, this one was female. Its mane was slightly longer, like a mare's compared to a stallion's, and it had no facial hair whatsoever, and its skin was of a similar shade to that of the other one she'd examined. Twilight watched intently as she pulled a glass jar from her bag, containing a familiar blue plant: poison joke. She walked deliberately over to the stallion, and gently tapped the jar against his head, and gestured at the jar, then at him. The stallion facehoofed, and put on an annoyed expression. What was she trying to say? Twilight cocked her head and made an exaggerated motion, attempting to indicate that she was confused.

"And it'll go down in history that first contact was a game of charades," Killian deadpanned.

"Do you have a better idea?" Kathy replied.

The Skipper turned around to face them. "It's progress. At least we know now that-" He was interrupted by the arrival of two more pegasus aliens, one of them was unmistakably the one that had followed them in, and the other was a yellow color, with a long pink mane and tail. It humored the starship commander that such colorfulness existed in such a wide spectrum here, where it clearly did not help with camouflage. Blues to browns, purples to whites, it didn't matter, there was at least one alien in any color imaginable, and even then, in different combinations. The two pegasi began to talk amongst themselves, but the yellow one was not hearing the blue one, and closed with the statue of Powell.

In what could only be a concerned tone, the alien looked at Killian and said something, then stared intently at the cockatrice, fluttering over it and apparently examining it. It did not awaken, and the alien touched it with a hoof, then said something to it cautiously, as though testing the deepness of its slumber. It would not wake up, of course; Kathy had loaded it with enough sedatives for another hour at least. They could revive it if they so chose, but what would that accomplish? Kathy once again tried to explain through motions to the purple one that Killian was not a small pony, but a human, and that this plant might've turned him into one.

The Skipper instead decided to make a show of his own. "Hey!" his voice boomed. All went quiet once again. The blue pegasus attempting to talk to the yellow one, the murmurs of the growing crowd, everything went silent. The Skipper was front and center. He pointed at the Luna, then at the sky. He pointed at himself, then at the Luna. He repeated the motions until one of the aliens said something. One of them will eventually get it, the Skipper thought.

"Sweet Celestia..." Twilight muttered under her breath. "They're from space! They landed in this... spaceship! This one came from a bigger one I saw last night in my telescope! That pony isn't really a pony, he's one of them, but he somehow came into contact with poison joke, and turned into one of us! It's all so clear now!" It simply could not be denied any further; now they were telling them that they were from space, or at least, it looked like they were. What else could it mean?

Total silence reigned. All eyes were on Twilight as she made a step toward the alien... captain, it would seem, and raised a hoof to shake. Slowly, with a gloved hand, he took it, shook firmly and... smiled. She spun about, and began to issue orders, as she had a knack for doing when the situation called for order. "Rainbow, ask Zecora to prepare a bath of poison joke antidote, and tell her it's an emergency, please. Fluttershy, you stay here with the cockatrice, see if you can make it free the... alien when it wakes up. If you can't, I'll check the library for cures. Everypony else... don't you think we should give our guests some space? I don't think they appreciate us gawking at them like this."

In turn, each party obeyed her command without question. The fact that Twilight was a well-respected figure throughout much of Equestria gave her word considerable weight. The mare let out a relieved sigh, and suddenly remembered who was missing from this picture. Spike was still at the library. Perhaps it was for the best: the baby dragon's imagination was sometimes overactive. He could have done something to offend the aliens. Twilight spun around. The aliens were still there, watching either her or Fluttershy, who did not appear to want the attention.

The Skipper was impressed by how the unicorn took control of the situation. The actions that she took appeared to be those of an authority figure. She was the only unicorn they had seen so far, and she had been at least partially in charge. Were the unicorns some sort of ruler caste? Was racism an issue here? What in the world had caused that creature to teleport in front of them? Perhaps this civilization had greater depth than once anticipated. Were the unicorns puppeteering the other races for resources while hoarding advanced technology, like the as-of-yet-unseen teleportation device and the levitating basket they'd seen from orbit, and framing themselves as gods to the others to get what they needed? Questions like these would be answered with study, the Skipper concluded. He strained to think of their next course of action. What if the aliens had sent for some sort of security force to deal with them? There were simply too many questions.

"What now, Cap'n?" a linguist asked.

"We wait, see what they do. We're guests here, gentlemen. Let's see how they treat guests."

A hot pink alien came into view, and upon noticing their group, rushed toward them. Within seconds she was upon them, spouting words at a rate usually associated with madmen. She poked and prodded, inquired and sized up, before turning to the purple unicorn and asking her a question.

"What are these things? They look kind of funny! Why do they seem so serious?"

Twilight facehoofed. "Pinkie, these are aliens! You have to be careful not to do anything that they might think of as a threat! If they can get here from who knows how far away, they could probably do terrible things to Ponyville if they wanted to!"

Twilight knew all about interstellar distances; the Princess had explained it in great detail to her, mostly to clarify why she could not move the stars in the night sky as she could the star of the day. The truth of the matter was easily summarized in one word, and that word was far. Farther than any pony had ever ventured, combined, she had said, and that would only be a teensy tiny fraction. If these spacepeople could get here, they would have to be extremely powerful in magic or technology. Though, none of them thus far had used any magic of any sort she'd ever seen before.

"Oh, wow, aliens! I got'cha, Twilight!" With that, the pink pony bounced over to stand at her side, away from the alien whose helmet she had been knocking on gently, to an annoyed gaze from the alien inside.

"I've got to wonder if they fear us. The purple one looks like she's trying to deal with this tactfully and with discretion," Killian observed. "She probably doesn't want to piss us off. I know I wouldn't. Fortunately, they're not the ones who should be worried. After all, we don't bear them any ill will. At least, none that I know of. Right, Skipper?"

The Skipper frowned. These aliens had no reason not to fear them, if only just a little bit. Though the aliens had no way of telling, Eclipse was capable of inflicting terrible damage to a terrestrial body's surface; it bore numerous railgun turrets, eight, to be exact, and a heavy slug moving at a speed measurable in a percentage of the speed of light was not something anything wanted to be hit with.

"They've got no reason not to fear us," he said in response. "I know we would in their place, but you're right, we don't have any good reason to do anything to hurt them."

"Perhaps aliens are not as ingrained into their popular culture as they are in ours," Kathy suggested, "or perhaps they have less of a perception of the possible threat we pose to them, or simply do not believe that we could possibly have come here with malevolent intentions, which would be correct, fortunately for them. If this were to happen on Earth, popular culture would probably have instigated some of the populace's reactions."

"Perhaps our culture is affecting our actions," one of the linguists wondered aloud.

"Yeah," Killian said, snickering, "after all, you did say 'We come in peace,' Skipper."

"We're making shots in the dark here; we've only scratched the surface of how they think, and what their culture is like. We could have just offended them and their families, we could have just shown submission, or we could have shown them fear. We wouldn't know," the linguist added. "What's most puzzling is how the alien responded when you shook her... hoof, Captain. That was a proper reaction; she just shook your hand. What's puzzling about it is that it seems to be analogous to our handshake: a greeting gesture. This is a friendly encounter thus far, not any variation of 'Get off my lawn.'"

The Skipper looked at the vibrant pink alien standing beside the unicorn and rattling off whispered questions, to which the other whispered short, identical responses to each. 'I don't know,' perhaps? He turned to face the linguist. "Well..." he read his nameplate as displayed on his helmet's HUD, "Sanders, what do you think we should do now?"

The linguist swallowed. Never had he been asked to make a decision before. After all, the Captain was the one who issued the orders. His role as a language teacher aboard Eclipse was not much more functional than a standard colonist; he'd teach crew members how to speak various languages, specifically English, French, Latin, and German. It was a sort of pastime for most of his students, especially after a third of their voyage was completed. At that point, everyone aboard had at least learned English. With a role as unimportant as his, he never suspected for a moment that the Captain would ask him for advice on this matter, and yet, now he was. "Uh... We try to communicate with motions, see what other gestures we share."

The Skipper nodded. "Cox, Grant, what do you think?" he asked, looking at each of the other linguists in turn. Both shrugged. "We need someone to head our xenolinguistics department, which will consist of you three along with whoever the head of this department sees fit. Any takers? We need these aliens' language deciphered as soon as possible if we plan to make this place our permanent residence, and since we don't want to have made this long trip for nothing..."

"I'll do it, Captain," Sanders said. "How hard could it be?" In his mind, however, it was already clear just how hard it would be. It would be a big task, for sure. "All we've got to do is formulate a pidgin of some kind, but we don't exactly have a lot of time..."

"Do your best." The Skipper looked toward the yellow pegasus alien, standing near the sedated cockatrice. Killian and Kathy were staring at it. "I wonder what she's doing here."

The nagging matter was the alien that stood motionless nearby, likely petrified by the very cockatrice that lay on this table, which was in a very deep sleep, as it appeared from where Fluttershy now stood. She decided to wait until it woke up to take further action. If she did now, she might startle the new arrivals.

"Good question," Killian said, "Maybe she knows something about this cockatrice. Should we wake it up?"

"No," the Skipper replied. "What if it attacks one of us? We don't know how it did what it did to Powell. It might do it again."

"Yes, good point, Skipper."

"I'll just wait until it wakes up, then I'll talk to it," Fluttershy said softly, "maybe I can convince it to help us, but I don't really know for sure..."

"Thanks, Fluttershy. If we help them out, they'll probably trust us more. And if we're going to cure that pony over there of poison joke, we're going to need his cooperation," Twilight said.

Twilight noticed something in her peripheral vision and looked up to see what it was. Unmistakably, it was Princess Celestia's sky chariot that was approaching their location. She pointed at it. "Look!"

The communications circuit in the Skipper's helmet activated. "Captain," the pilot said, "we have a contact closing fast with this landing site. No detectable power source." The Skipper looked to the sky, noticing a flying object, a vehicle of some kind, evidently propelled by numerous pegasus aliens, clad in gold-colored armor. More impressive, however, was what the vehicle carried as a passenger. An alien, larger than any yet seen, rode in the back. It had a horn and wings, a property as of yet unobserved. Its coat was white, and its mane appeared to shimmer prismatically. From this distance, it was evident that this creature was of a wholly different variety than those that stood in front of them now. As it disembarked from its vehicle, the three aliens standing in front of them did a sort of kneel. A leader figure? A monarch? the Skipper thought. The societal structure here was becoming visibly more complex as time went on. A closer inspection revealed this alien to be wearing particularly ornate accessories of gold and gemstones. It was clear that interactions with this particular alien could likely decide the success or failure of Eclipse's mission, or, at least, their hopes of landing the colony modules within this nation's boundaries.

Chapter Four: Redefine Possible

The regal alien had disembarked from her chariot of sorts, and was speaking to the lavender unicorn. Quietly, the Skipper watched the exchange unfold. Perhaps, from the other aliens' demeanor around this larger alien, he could determine just who she really was to them, and who she would be to his crew.

"What is happening, Twilight?" the Princess asked, trotting slowly to the side of the unicorn, her gaze transfixed on the leading helmeted figure.

"Have you seen them before? Do you know where they come from?"

The Princess looked to the unicorn. "Twilight, I don't. These beings..." She paused to examine one. "Whoever they may be, are not from Equestria, nor any of its surrounding lands nor lands of its allies. This, I am sure. Though, judging from the earth pony that stands among them, they couldn't be-"

"The earth pony isn't from here either," Twilight began, then continued hesitantly, "they're... from space."

The winged unicorn's expression momentarily morphed into a frown. "You are certain of this?" With such a thing staring her in the face, she couldn't possibly deny their looking distinctly alien.

Twilight summarized in her mind the events of the day, before saying, "I-I think so, Princess. This pony used to be one of them, but was exposed to poison joke somehow, and turned into a pony. Another one has been turned to stone by a cockatrice, so this leads me to assume that they were in the Everfree Forest and ran into trouble there. They can't understand our language, and I can't understand theirs. We've been... trying to communicate with gestures. That's how I know that they came from space, and also how I know that that pony isn't a pony at all."

The Princess nodded slowly, her insightful eyes combing each of the helmeted figures in turn. As she did so, they frequently looked at one another. Nervous, she thought. "I see."

"How should we..."

"Proceed?" The Princess' expression faded into a more serious one, as it often did when she was deep in thought.

"We have to find out as much as we can. Find out what kind of weapons they bear, if any, and what magic they can use, again, if they have any. If Equestria is in danger, we must know the full extent of their abilities as soon as possible. If they are from space, as you say, then we can assume that their power is great, and never should we underestimate them. Though, perhaps more important than all that, we must determine why they have come here. When travelling through the gulfs between stars, things like this probably do not happen accidentally. They're here for a reason, and I doubt just this many have come."

"But... what could they want, Princess? Maybe they just stopped to... do something, and ran into trouble, and they're here to ask for help. Besides, if they wanted to fight, they would be a little more threatening, don't you think?"

"Twilight, have I ever told you what it's like to deal with foreign powers? In the many thousands of years I've been alive, I've come to know that almost nothing is ever exactly as simple as it seems. It's either even simpler... or much more complex. We shall get to the bottom of this, Twilight, and you," she looked at the unicorn at her side, "will play a key part in it."

"So... we'll be working together on this?"

"In a way. I must manage Equestria from Canterlot, make announcements on these new arrivals, make sure no panic arises." The diarch chuckled, "After all, spaceponies don't sound like especially good news, especially from word of mouth. Twilight, I am allowing you to make the decisions here."

Twilight was taken aback. This was serious; they'd need the most experienced ponies Equestria had on this, and Celestia most likely topped the list. She, on the other hoof, didn't even near the top hundred, or perhaps even thousand. "I... don't know, Princess. Really, you know what to do better than I do."

"Twilight, I'm asking you to do this because I know I can count on you. I've taught you much, you've learned more on your own, and I trust that you will make the right choices using what you've learned. You're a smart pony, Twilight, you can deal with this in my stead, I'm sure of it."

"But... what if they want to speak to you? Surely it's obvious that they know you're our leader, and what if they want something big and I don't know-"

The Princess interrupted, "I am willing to provide whatever aid they need, Twilight, within reasonable bounds, of course. This matter is quite important and is undoubtedly delicate. Twilight, you are inquisitive, curious, intelligent, and most of all, dedicated. I couldn't ask for a better ambassador for Equestria."

"So... I'll make all of the calls, handle all of the relations..." She stopped. "Is this another test?"

"A rather unexpected one, I suppose," the Princess replied in an amused tone. "You've proven yourself very capable of making new friends throughout your stay in Ponyville, Twilight."

Fluttershy spoke up. "If you don't mind me interrupting, Princess..."

The alicorn looked at the pegasus. "Do you have a suggestion, Fluttershy?"

"Yes... I do." She pointed at the petred alien. "Can you cure him? I don't think these, uh... aliens know how."

"An excellent suggestion, Fluttershy. Twilight, do you have a solution you can apply to this situation?"

Twilight cleared her throat, "Yes, Princess, I think so. After I had a close call with a cockatrice, myself, I looked into finding a cure. As it turns out, I do have one, an herbal remedy, from my copy of Supernaturals. Zecora would know how to make it. Fluttershy, can you go to Zecora's and tell her?" The zebra would certainly be busy today.

"T-Through the Everfree Forest?"

The Princess smiled lightly. "Rest assured, Fluttershy; you will be well-protected." With a nod, two golden-armored pegasi from the diarch's retinue moved to the pegasus mare's side.

"Oh... alright, then."

With that, she and her escort were off. The aliens had begun to murmur amongst themselves for a moment, before the lead figure hushed them. It could only be confusing to be on a world on which they didn't speak the language. They were going to have to learn it if they were intending on staying here. Did they intend on staying here? What now?

Silence reigned. The baffling winged unicorn was staring at the purple unicorn, who appeared to be in thought. She doesn't know what to do, the Skipper thought, but we don't, either. Someone here had to think of something. The situation hadn't gotten any simpler since the arrival of the larger alien, and he hadn't yet pieced much together from her exchange with the others. His mind wandered to the purpose of Eclipse.

Earth had been a cradle of sorts, humanity being the baby within. As was the case with many children, humanity had a tendency to be tactile in their learnings and, again like children, have broken some things along the way, made mistakes, picked fights, spilled things, and eventually learned from these things, but left their cradle a mess.

Throughout the twenty-second century especially, many things resultant of humanity's stumblings, like the world's population and the displacement of inhabitants due to increasing water levels, came to a peak. It had been a costly endeavor to make efforts to correct the damages over the next century, and a significant number of people did not live through it, and the world still bore many of the scars.

Eclipse's main purpose was to put the lessons learned from those times into practice, on a planet like Earth. In theory, the availability of all of this planet's resources to the unified colony would deter the development of any conflict over resources. However, the colony's role may just have changed with the discovery of the sentient species living on this planet. He could add teleportation to the tally of unexplainables, unless something proves otherwise, which didn't seem too likely.

Before he could piece together much from the conversation he'd just witnessed, another alien arrived, one with an orange coat, wearing a hat over blond hair and bearing a mark of three fruit-like objects, aesthetically resembling apples, on its flanks, as all natives–and Killian–had displayed. It didn't look like a tattoo, and certainly hadn't been in Killian's case, nor did it appear to be part of the coat. The arriving alien looked puzzled, and upon getting closer, bowed slightly before beginning to speak.

"Hey Princess, howdy Twi', Pinkie. If y'all don't mind me askin', what's going on here? This thing certainly wasn't here yesterday. Who are... they?" Applejack went to stand at Twilight's side.

"Applejack, these..." Twilight replied, gesturing a hoof toward them, "are aliens, from another planet. We don't know why they're here, but they need our help." She specifically indicated the petrified alien. The earth pony mare brought a hoof to her chin in thought.

"Oh, I see," she eventually replied, "I'd reckon that other planets are far away, and I'd also reckon that they'd be tired from all of that travellin'. I think it'd be a good idea to show them some Ponyville hospitality, regardless of where they're from. They don't look like the kind that'd bite'cha."

"But, Applejack, we can't even speak to them, they can't understand us and we can't understand them," Twilight explained.

Waving a hoof dismissively, Applejack replied, "Oh, don't you worry, Twi'; food is a universal negotiator. Trust me; we've had foreign folks 'round Sweet Apple Acres before. 'Sides, aliens from another world ain't somethin' that come to Ponyville every day now, this is a special occasion."

Before the unicorn could reply, Pinkie blurted, "So we're going to have a party? ...Why didn't I think of that?"

"Maybe because it's not a very good idea. Applejack, Pinkie, we don't even know if they have the concept of a party where they're from. Too much excitement might make them nervous, or scared, or even hostile. We can't take the risk of giving them the wrong impression!"

"N-no parties? Is that even... possible?" The pink pony seemed almost faint.

"Then we'll just feed 'em. They definitely know what food is. I mean, they've got mouths, or at least, I think they do. Speaking of that, why do you figure they're wearin' those things on their heads?"

"I don't understand their purpose, to be honest." Twilight had seen diving equipment, which usually involved tanks of air and a helmet or snorkel of sorts, but these appeared to be lacking any sort of air supply. Was it some sort of equipment for working in space? If so, why didn't they take them off?

"Ah. Well, I'm off to round up the folks to help us give these travelers a proper reception." With that, the orange pony was off. Pinkie Pie also began to trot away.

"Pinkie, where are you going?" Twilight said, warningly. She'd already ordered no parties.

"Oh, I'm going to plan a party. Not for our new guests, you said not to do that, but I think we should celebrate anyway! They don't have to be there, but it sure would be great if you changed your mind! If they don't know parties, then I'm sure I could teach them parties. Just a suggestion!" Pinkie changed her pace to a bounce, and soon left the scene.

"I hope everything turns out okay," Twilight whispered discreetly to her mentor, whose inactivity stood to show how independent she had to be in her command of this situation.

"Communication, Twilight," the Princess instructed without replying, "is key."

"Yes, right. Back to that." Twilight locked eyes with the lead figure, who'd occupied himself with watching them. His eyes didn't betray any hostility, but hints of what seemed almost like courteousness and most definitely curiosity, to her. Nervousness crept over her once more. What could she say? The Princess brought a piece of paper and a pencil from the chariot with her levitation.

"You should be taking notes, Twilight."

The Skipper's mouth hung open as the lavender unicorn's horn glowed in turn, her own purple glow encapsulating the paper and writing implement. What was..? Slowly, he pulled a handheld combined Geiger counter and metal detector from one of his uniform pockets, slowly extending it toward the floating paper. Nothing. He held it closer, and the larger alien lowered her head to nearby the detector, and nodded at it. The Skipper raised an eyebrow, and nodded in return, wondering what she would do. The device was gently taken from his hand, wreathed in the same glow that the paper had been before being passed, in a matter of speaking, to the unicorn. She began to examine the device visually. The horn had to be a power source of some kind, but there was no indication of their being artificial. The metal detector portion was still active, and appeared to have detected the larger alien's regalia from the readout. By this point, he was merely a meter away from the pair, though the larger one's armored guards, obviously soldiers of some kind, hadn't moved. The purple alien had been writing with the pencil she was levitating, alternating between looking at the page and at him.

Kathy broke the silence, "Anything, Skipper?"

"...No, nothing. No radiation, no unexpected metal. I can't detect anything out of the ordinary at all," he replied, shaking his head. The Geiger counter had apparently been adequately appraised by the winged unicorn, as the device slowly made its way to hover in the air over where his right hand was. He took hold of it, and pocketed the device as the glow around it dissipated. He stared at the alien and received a smile in return.

The Skipper backed up to rejoin his group, turning to face them. "It's just the same as any other thing about this place..." Killian muttered. "Maybe there's some sort of... I don't know... new form of sub-atomic... no. I just don't see how any of this is possible. This place and its people break the rules of physics so often we may need to account for something else, re-make our model... But we can't do that until we can measure whatever it is that's at work here."

"It has a gauge on it. It looks like some sort of measuring implement," the Princess said.

"He... doesn't know what magic is," Twilight said in disbelief.

"This object, it's not magical, or mechanical," the Princess added. "It's electrical."

"Electrical? No magic at all?" Electric power was widespread throughout Equestria, and was mostly used for lighting and heating, though magic could easily replace it in those capacities, making the technology a mere convenience.

"If they did have magic, I could've detected leftover energy. This device," the Princess explained, "bears none of it."

"So... there's no magic where they came from? How did they get here?"

"That's a good question, Twilight. It appears as though they've gotten along without it, since they've managed to get here. Perhaps we should attempt to explain it, as their tools don't appear to be telling them anything about it."

"The purple one is signing something," Sanders pointed out, diverting all of their attentions to the unicorn once again.

Paper and pencil still in her grip, she began making motions with her hooves, tapping her glowing horn, and then gesturing toward the paper. The horn was the source of power, yes. What kind of power? How?

"Well, unlike the cockatrice here, it looks like these aliens have at least a possible point from which their... abilities... come from," Kathy noted. "I don't think we can get much more from field investigation."

"We could take one aboard," Killian suggested, "if one of them wants to, and with adequate precautions, of course."

Before the Skipper could reply, the cerulean pegasus alien could be seen flying toward them. She landed and began to speak to the other two. What kind of errand had she just run for the purple one?

"Zecora says she'll have those things ready by this evening, or maybe before that. Fluttershy's staying to help her out," Rainbow reported.

"That's great, Rainbow Dash, I think they'll appreciate it."

"I don't think they understand what you meant by your gesture, Twilight. Perhaps you should demonstrate different spells," the Princess suggested.

Why didn't I think of that? she thought. "Yes, of course." She set down the paper and pencil, the glow of her horn fading for a moment before intensifying once again. With a flash, she teleported several meters to the side, the aliens watching in awe. She decided not to perform any projectile spells, lest they consider them a weapon, and continued performing a standard routine she'd devised to strengthen her magical endurance and hone her skills with all sorts of spells. She had to look her best for the Princess.

First, she cast a light spell, a basic one many foals learn early on. Hers had been amply practiced, and it was relatively mundane, yet the aliens seemed quite interested even in that. Next, she performed an antigravity spell, followed by a self-levitation spell to mitigate the fall from the other wearing off. Again, the aliens seemed impressed. She plucked a number of blades of grass and began to weave them together, practicing telekinetic dexterity, something that had taken her quite a long time to master. She then shaped the woven grass into a rounded shape, and cast a transmutation spell. The grass became an apple. As she continued her practice, the aliens began to talk amongst themselves.

"That's... quite a show," Kathy muttered, awed by the various feats this unicorn was performing in rapid succession and with practiced fluidity.

"It looks... magical," Sanders added. Indeed, with many of the tricks she performed came glows, flashes, and sparkles. It became evident to the Skipper what this particular alien's mark represented; magic. If the marks were natural, then this unicorn's ability with these 'spells' was also natural. Or was it? What kind of tool that small could look like an animal's horn, yet be packed with so many impossible features, such as a personal teleporter, personal levitation at will, levitation of other objects, transmutation, and personal antigravity?

"She does... she is," the Skipper replied softly. "The unicorns are magical. I don't believe it, but there it is. And they're not the only thing. Killian, you are no longer human, because a plant turned you into an alien. Sean Powell, as he stands right there, turned to stone. Magically, by this cockatrice, which obviously couldn't have done it by any measurable means. Same with the blue plant. The people, the animals, the plants, probably even the star... all of it."

"So much for things eventually making sense," Killian said dryly. Nobody else spoke as the unicorn finished her demonstration. Something about the large alien caught the Skipper's eye for the first time. What was her mark supposed to mean? Did she..?

"Do you think they understand now?" Twilight asked her mentor, who nodded slowly.

"See for yourself."

The lead figure appeared to be deep in thought, staring into space before looking at her again, narrowing his eyes. He pointed at the Sun.

Princess Celestia stepped forward; her horn glowed intensely for a moment. As though not directed toward anyone nearby in particular, the alien said something in his language, then pointed at her, and then at the sun again. The Princess nodded. His eyes widened, as though he'd just made some shocking discovery. It occurred to Twilight; he didn't know that the Princess controlled the Sun.

...She did. This alien controlled the star here with her magic. Or, rather, Eclipse would be able to tell him if this was so, in less than ten minutes, and if this wasn't some sort of facade, and these beings really did have extreme technological abilities that somehow remained undetectable. This seemed unlikely now, with the Skipper's deduction that magic was indeed at work here, and that these creatures were incredibly powerful indeed.

"This alien," the Skipper began, taking a deep breath, "controls that star up there. That's why it orbits this planet."

"Excuse me, Skipper, that doesn't make any sense. We're talking something thousands of times the mass of this entire planet, and you say that this being here, this winged unicorn, no bigger than two men, can simply move it?" Killian interjected.

"We'll know in-"

"A few minutes, Skipper, I know. We can't be jumping to conclusions like this all the time. Didn't you say not to jump to conclusions? I know you're not a full scientist, but you couldn't possibly not know what you're implying here."

"I know exactly what I'm implying, and I don't like it any more than you do, but that's what all evidence we currently have points to. What we now know is that this alien is what causes this, she claims it to be so herself. If I were a leader on a first contact mission, I wouldn't lie about that sort of thing. You're right, Killian. It makes no sense at all, but if there's one thing we need to do if we want to survive and live here, it's to learn to adapt to all of these new concepts as they appear, not try to justify them as we know them where we're from, and ignore the evidence. We're not on Earth anymore, we're here, and this place has very different rules. They don't make sense, no, but there they are, right in front of us." The Skipper's speech was delivered in an unflinching, calm, commanding tone, one he only very rarely made use of.

Several anxious minutes passed, not a single one of the beings present making a move; the Skipper's stern speech had apparently killed the mood fairly efficiently. The comm circuit in the Skipper's helmet activated, and Marcus' voice came through. "As you said, Skipper, astrometrics lab has reported a major trajectory change. How did you know that would happen? What's going on down there?"

The Skipper replied, "Don't worry about it. I'll explain later." He pointed at the star again, then at the winged unicorn. She'd better change it back, he thought.

With a glow of her horn, the Princess responded to the alien's signal. The Sun would now return to its proper place, or, Twilight assumed that to be the purpose of the spell.

"I do not believe that leaves them any doubt," the Princess stated.

Twilight nodded in return, "I wonder what it's like, to just... discover magic. I can't imagine life without it."

"...And they can hardly comprehend life with it."

The pair of guards that had been sent with Fluttershy returned, bearing the message that Zecora would escort her out of the forest herself, and that Fluttershy had dismissed them.

"Twilight, I leave this matter in your hooves. I must go make announcements about these visitors' arrival."

Having boarded her chariot, the Princess gave the leading figure one last glance before departing for Canterlot.

*****

Many minutes of signed attempted discussion, mostly about magic, had kept Twilight occupied and taking notes when Applejack returned. Her voice prompted the unicorn to raise her head from the paper. Apart from the aliens, she was alone; Rainbow Dash had quickly become bored, and headed off.

"Hey Twi', the folks and I have put together a little somethin' for our guests. Come on, bring 'em with you."

In a just recently established manner of gesturing and communication, movements and even a few noises to represent various things rather vaguely, Twilight attempted to ask the visitors to follow, though that particular motion hadn't been defined yet. Others had, like 'I don't know', which was denoted by a shrug, and 'yes', indicated by a nod or an 'ah', 'no' being indicated by 'uh' or a shake of the head. Its rudimentary nature reminded Twilight of what ancient pony language had been described to her as. Applejack waved a hoof at them and whistled. That works, Twilight mused, smiling.

The Skipper interpreted the message clearly; to follow. "Cox, Grant, take care of things here, watch the cockatrice, and bring Powell inside the ship. Killian, Kathy, Sanders, let's go. I think they've got something to show us."

Chapter Five: Reception

A number of picnic tables marked the area the orange pony had led them, with a barn-like structure and an orchard nearby, most definitely of the red fruit. On each were what could only be foodstuffs. The striking similarity in these pastries' appearance to those found in Earth cuisine, such as round pies, what appeared to be fritters, and more as part of the assortment, puzzled the Skipper. His mouth watered slightly, though he kept it shut and was happy to be unable to smell the visually tempting treats through the air filter of his helmet. Undoubtedly, they couldn't eat this food, as Kathy had quickly determined that there were elements of the cellular structure of organisms here that appeared to be incompatible with human digestive systems. Each of the present farmers bore marks on their rears that indicated methods of preparing the fruit, and other farming-related imagery. Orchard workers, the Skipper thought.

"Have they laid this out for us?" Kathy asked, evidently to nobody in particular. The answer was unclear to each of the humans, and Killian, technically the only non-human of the group, appeared to be gazing into space. "Killian, is something wrong?"

"I haven't smelled pie in almost twenty years, that's all," Killian replied, inciting a chuckle from the biologist.

"Oh. What's it smell like? Any particular kind?"

"Kind of like cinnamon," Killian continued, before correcting himself, "apples, I smell prepared apples."

"That's not the only thing apple-like about these fruits. I never would've figured that we'd find something so closely analogous on this planet as to smell like it and look like it, to a tee."

Killian felt quite privileged to be able to consume such tasty-smelling things. The regular diet of everyone aboard Eclipse was devoid of things like pies and pastry. Often, what they ate was mostly corn, with variety in tomatoes, cucumbers, potatoes, peas, and lettuce in a rotation which differed with each of the ship's eight modules. These plants were more filling, larger, grew faster, and were more nutritious than their natural counterparts, but it was repetitive, only partially mitigated by seasoning packets, issued scarcely on occasions such as Earth holidays and journey milestones. More plant seeds had been brought along for use after landing, such as those of various fruit trees, but it was certain that it would be a significant while before anything like that which he smelled could be prepared by the colony.

The orange pony had apparently waited for them to stop talking before turning to the lavender unicorn beside her.

"I'd figure we'd better show 'em what we mean. They look kind of nervous," Applejack whispered.

Twilight nodded. "You've explained things here?"

"As best I could. The folks were glad to help out with this. It ain't every day you get to meet aliens and hold a little bit of a welcome for 'em, after all." Twilight nodded again at the response, and Applejack turned to face the numerous ponies standing in groups nearby the tables. "Alright everypony, don't be shy! Make sure they feel welcome!"

The silence broken, small conversations sprang up amongst the ponies, as they began to make picks of the refreshments laid out. The atmosphere was uncomfortable, tense. Applejack looked back at the aliens, who themselves were surveying the scene. With a gesture, she asked them to follow.

The orange alien led them to the nearest table, and with surprising ease, managed to pick up with one of her front hooves a... fritter, from the look of it, from the table. Making sure she'd shown it to all involved, she swiftly put it in her mouth, then pointed at them, and again at the table, nodding.

"That answers that question," the Skipper said, "Killian-" Killian's digestive system was known to accept the local variety of plant life, and had subsisted on a paste derived from the samples recovered since his transformation. Needless to say, he wasn't overly happy about eating plant mush.

"I know, I know. I've got to eat some, because you guys can't." He smiled, "I'm not complaining." In an attempt to imitate the orange pony, he tried to pick up one of the fritters in a hoof, but ended up dropping it on the ground. He sighed as the purple alien whispered something to the other, inciting a nod, in response to which Killian rolled his eyes. Deciding better of the matter, he decided to pick another one up in his mouth, and this time, succeeded in securing his prize. The Skipper was now beset by the orange alien's expectant gaze, as though it was his turn.

"In offering us food, we have further evidence that these aliens mean us no harm, unless, of course, we have misjudged their way of thinking somehow. This is encouraging," Sanders said into his recorder.

Slowly, the Skipper motioned at the treats, then at himself, then shook his head. In response the alien only turned her head, so he elaborated further. Motioning again at the treats, and mocking a motion of putting things in his mouth, he ran a finger in a horizontal line across the neck protector of his helmet.

The lavender unicorn reciprocated with her standard motion for asking why. Kathy intervened, "I'll handle this." She opened her sample backpack, kneeled, and pulled a sample of ship-grown corn and one of a local plant, holding one in each hand, allowing the unicorn to examine each before setting them down. Next, she pointed at one, the corn, pointed at the sky, and nodded. Then she pointed at the other plant, pointed at the ground, and shook her head.

"What's that mean? They won't eat the food from here?" Applejack asked, flabbergasted. "They grow that corn wherever they come from?"

"I think they mean to say that our food is toxic to them," Twilight explained, "but the earth pony there seems to be just fine eating it. Maybe-" Applejack interrupted her.

"Don't worry, it'll all be fine. Now, let's focus on lettin' these folks know that they're welcome." Welcome, Twilight thought, but what do they want?

The unicorn nodded at the farmer. It occurred to the Skipper yet again that this alien's specific occupation was unknown to him, as had been the two pegasi's. Given the apparent disposition of the leader figure to her, did she hold a public office of some sort? What of the pegasi? Butterflies didn't appear to signify an occupation or talent, and a rainbow-colored lightning bolt? Magic may have been the new catch-all term for all of the unexplainable happenings here, but how did these marks relate to the individual? How were they formed? Killian had finished the first of his treats, and, apparently deciding to break the tension, grabbed another one in his mouth. "Good move," he whispered to the navigator, who nodded in return, chewing slowly, as though savoring the treat.

"The lead native seemed to be concerned greatly about something," Sanders said to his recorder, "this indicates that they are not taking our arrival lightly. Their capacity and usage of inflection appears to be extremely similar to our own, something that I've only now taken notice of. With so many ways these people mirror our mannerisms, we should be cautious, and determine what we do not share to avoid miscommunication."

"I wonder what that over there tastes like," Killian said, almost excitedly, "Skipper?" The Skipper nodded in approval, and the group followed several meters behind as he proceeded to another table, which already had a group of natives around it. They appeared to regard Killian with curious glances and appraising looks. He'd never taken the navigator for one to particularly enjoy food, or anything, for that matter. Although, this was the first prepared food he'd eaten in years, and it could stand to reason that it simply didn't matter what he thought of food in general.

"Oh, they taste like apples, too, more or less," he said, taking another sweet from the table. It was a tad messy, but he did not complain about the method. However it was that the aliens had learned to grasp things well enough to build tools, and apparently to write, Killian had no such skill, at least not yet.

"So similar, but so far apart... it's uncanny!" Kathy exclaimed, picking up a specimen of the apple-like fruit from the nearest table in her hand. The Skipper smirked. Science wasn't just a job to Kathy: she loved her work, everything about it. Numerous times already she'd brought up the idea of just taking one of the shuttles and going to the surface for a few days, and they'd just gotten there and had two crew members afflicted by strange ailments courtesy of local flora and fauna, which she had also been happily studying. However, she appeared to know full well the implications here, and had exhibited restraint in her curious spirit so far, though that left the rest of the scientist's manners to deal with. "I really should take one of these back. We didn't find any of these in the forest."

Killian swallowed. "Pack a few for the road."

"What, did you not like your alien plant paste?" She chuckled, placing several of the apple-like fruits in sample containers and into her backpack. "And I thought I was a good cook."

"The only things you know how to cook are beakers full of chemicals, bacterial cultures and weird-tasting, mushed, alien spinach."

"Well, actually, that particular plant has more in common with an Earth dandelion." Killian glared at her.

"Do you think they like us? I mean, they don't look unhappy, 'cept for that pony. Poor fellow must be so confused. How long did you say he's been a pony for? How long's it been since he got exposed to poison joke? Do you know?"

Twilight shook her head. "I have no idea, Applejack."

"It'd be much better if we had some way of communicatin'. I'm sure they came here for a reason, but we can't speak their language, and they can't speak ours, neither. It's a mighty pickle, if you ask me."

The unicorn brought a hoof to her chin in contemplation. Applejack was right; they didn't know what they wanted, because she still hadn't asked them what they wanted. "Aha! How did I not think of this sooner?" Her vocalized realization had drawn the attention of the aliens.

The purple alien first did her gesture for not knowing; a cock of the head, then pointed at the Skipper. She hesitated, gestured toward herself, then at the area around her.

"I think she wants to know what we want with them," Sanders said.

"Well, I'd imagine so. It's not every day some spaceship comes landing in your backyard," Killian added.

The Skipper nodded, and picked up a stick. He kneeled beside a patch of dirt, and began to draw. First, a rounded shape, with the rough shape of the continent picked as a landing site in the center. The unicorn levitated a stick, and added the planet's moon, between it and the large circle, she placed a small circle. She had noticed us?

The alien nodded as though indicating that she was right, and began drawing lines in the dirt. He drew seven lines, then a large diagonal cross shape. He drew three sets of ten lines, each with another cross shape between them, encircled it, gestured to his group, and drew an arrow from the line sets to the small circle she had drawn.

"This is... math!" Twilight exclaimed, "I think it means thirty-seven." Twilight levitated her stick, and drew thirty-seven lines in the dirt. The alien stared at them for a moment, before shaking his head. He used his stick to draw three lines, a cross, then another three lines. He made a cross shape between them, drew two long horizontal lines, and drew nine lines on the other end of it. Multiplication, was it? Seven thousand? "Applejack, there's... seven thousand of them up there." The alien nodded at her, and drew a dotted line ending in an arrow from the small circle to the center of the large one, then marked it with a horizontal cross. "They want to land here."

The unicorn's contemplative expression had become well-known to the Skipper, as she wore it perhaps more often than any other he'd seen her have. A long pause, punctuated by whispers from the various aliens nearby, followed. The unicorn let out a deep breath, and nodded slowly, yes.

"Are you sure she understood, Skipper?" Killian asked. "I don't know if I would in her place." He began to munch down another morsel from the nearby table.

"She was thinking about something, that's for sure," Kathy added, "and she doesn't seem confused."

"She's certain of her decision, whatever that decision concerns. We should try to clarify," Sanders said.

The Skipper picked up his stick again, and on a clear patch of dirt, traced a long, slightly curved line. Above it, he placed a rectangle, then drew a crude stick figure inside it. He then drew an arrow to the center of the curve, and looked at the unicorn.

Another nod. "That was easier than I thought it would be," Killian murmured, licking the corners of his mouth clean of the leftovers of his snack. The natives had just given their permission for Eclipse to land, or, at least, their ambassador had. Still, this left two more objectives; getting help for Powell and transforming Killian back to his normal self. He nodded at the unicorn, and pointed at Killian, then at himself. The unicorn nodded, and motioned for them to follow.

Twilight hoped that Zecora and Fluttershy were ready at the spa, where it had been determined they would meet if anypony ever needed a potion of some kind, as it provided facilities for topical application of said potions. "Applejack, thank you for doing this, I think they appreciate the sentiment. They want to help their friend, so I'm taking them to the spa, alright?" The orange earth pony nodded in reply and bowed at the group. Twilight was surprised to see the lead figure return the gesture.

*****

Throughout their guided journey into the alien town, stares met each of them, inciting just a slight uneasiness in Killian. Where is she leading us? he wondered. This question would be answered by their stopping in front of a pleasant-looking building, where two natives were standing; the yellow pegasus from earlier, and one with drastically-different color patterns, more akin to a zebra than a colorful horse. She wore various golden ornaments, not unlike those worn by the large alien from the landing site. Why had she left the purple unicorn in charge, anyway? There wasn't an air of authority about this one that he could detect.

"Zecora, are you ready?" Twilight asked.

Zecora was staring at the aliens in an appraising manner. "With the assistance of your friend, we have come to our desired end." She pulled a pouch from her saddlebag, and then put it back. "This is a cure for the one who appears here today," she took another object, a liquid potion, from her saddlebag, "and this is for the cockatrice's prey."

"Excellent. We'd better get started. How does that potion work?"

"You pour it on them," Fluttershy elaborated, "right?"

"That is true, now let us cure this one who appears so blue." She was looking at the alien earth pony, who returned her gaze with his regular stern one.

Potions, Killian thought. The zebra alien was some kind of witch doctor? The unicorn waved them into the building. Inside, the walls were brightly colored; the smell of it was, unmistakably, that of perfume. Bottles of things lined several shelves, a pool of water in a sort of large tub was steaming, and two very similar-looking aliens, differing seemingly only in coloration, stood behind a counter of sorts. Their reaction was of rather obvious surprise. After a lengthy conversation with the unicorn, they nodded. "Looks a lot like some sort of spa," Kathy said, "or some other place meant for beautification of oneself."

"Smells like it, too," Killian added. What could this place have to do with curing his condition? They followed the striped alien and unicorn to the pool of water, into which the former added the contents of the pouch she'd produced earlier. As he watched it dissolve, the water changed color.

"They can't possibly-" Killian began.

"They do. Get in, Killian," the Skipper ordered.

The unicorn pointed at him, then at the water, and nodded. Killian sighed, and hesitantly dipped a hoof into the water. One at a time, he put his legs into the water, standing as tall as he could before lowering himself so that the water was at his neck. "Go under," Kathy instructed. "If this is some topical application of some sort of medicinal cure, then you will want to submerge the entire affected area to the best of your ability."

A peculiar tingling took hold across his entire body as he dipped his head into the water. A sensation unlike anything he'd ever felt before followed. Slowly, he felt his limbs elongate, and before long, he could feel his hands and feet. He poked his head up to the surface, took in a breath, and realized something; he was naked. "Agh. Skipper, grab me that towel."

"That was remarkably quick," Kathy noted, discreetly taking a sample vial of the diluted water.

The aliens were quite the hairless bunch, as could be clearly seen in the uncovered alien, who wrapped his midsection with a towel the lead alien had provided as he rose to his feet and stepped out of the pool, shivering slightly and dripping. Still, this provided insight on their anatomy. Limbs terminated in hands and feet, now known to have extremely short claws on the ends of their digits. A better and alternative view to an alien's head had also been provided... A more detailed summary could be written later on, though. There were more pressing matters at hoof; she'd yet to show the aliens where they could land. She took note now of a slight hissing noise that came with each helmeted alien's breaths, but that was not present in the helmetless one. A filter?

Suddenly, the naked alien moved a hand to his belly, and his face contorted slightly.

"Killian, we'd better get you back to the ship," Kathy said, "we'll probably want to remove the alien food from your system as soon as possible."

The Skipper nodded, and tapped the unicorn lightly. She appeared surprised, but he had her attention. He gestured at their group, and pointed upward. She held a hoof up in the air, slammed it down audibly, and galloped toward the door.

"Twilight?" Fluttershy asked.

"No time to explain. They want to go back to their, uh... their spaceship, and I've got to show them where they can land. Make sure they stay here. Thank you, Zecora!"

"It was a simple request," the zebra replied, "return quickly, do your best."

Twilight bolted out the door, steering herself toward the library. She would need her Danger Suit if she was going up there. If they wore helmets down here, then she should wear a helmet up there, and have an oxygen supply.

She burst into the library. "Twilight, where'd you go?" Spike asked as she began levitating her saddlebag and filling them with pencils, paper, and several books.

"No time to explain. Can you get my Hazard Suit from the basement?"

Sanders spoke for the first time in nearly half an hour. "I've just noticed something." He turned on his recorder. "Another alien, with a striped coat and mane, appears to speak in rhymes."

"Killian, still feeling alright?" Kathy asked.

"Fit as a fiddle," he deadpanned. He had dried off by now and continued to hold his gut. "No worse than I was a few minutes ago."

The Skipper switched communications channels. "Eclipse, prepare quarantine procedures." He then switched to their Luna's channel. "How are things over there? We'll be heading back shortly, I think."

"A trio of aliens–children, from the looks of it–tried to get into the ship, but they scampered off when we raised our voices," came the reply. Can't blame them, I suppose, he thought.

An alien burst through the door, clad in a full-body suit of its own, filter included. From the see-through faceplate, horn-shaped covered protrusion on the forehead, and bag it wore on its back bearing the mark seen on the rear of the purple unicorn, it was evident who had returned. The Skipper couldn't help but smile; she intended on going with them. Where she had gotten such a suit, he could only guess, though it could be argued that their technological progression hadn't exactly followed humanity's. It was the Skipper's turn to motion for her to follow.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Kathy asked. The zebra placed the liquid potion into the unicorn's bag. From what he could guess, it was for Powell.

"No, but they have shown us their home and given Killian his regular form back, we should show ourselves to them. It's a courtesy I'm fairly certain they'll understand. She may also be able to help us pick a landing site," he replied.

Single-file, they left the spa, Killian taking his towel with him, and headed in the direction of the shuttle.

*****

"Skipper?" one of the linguists asked on the channel as they came into view of the site. "Is that one of the natives? Is Chief Reynolds alright?"

He answered to the affirmative, and guided the team into the shuttle. The unicorn was hesitant, but joined them after a moment.

The statue of the afflicted alien was as it was when she'd left the landing site. She levitated the potion of anti-petrification, uncorked it, and poured it onto him.

Slowly, the curse wore off, and the alien fell to the floor of the contraption, letting out a groan. The aliens looked at their colleague, and again at her, before moving to their fallen, who opened his eyes and let out a loud noise at the sight of her. His friends responded in soothing tones and explanations, and before long, he was sitting in one of the seats inside the ship, rattling off questions in a somewhat-shaky voice.

Twilight turned her attention to the interior of this craft, apparently the one they'd be taking to their larger one... in space. She had never been in space, nor had any regular pony; Princess Luna had been banished to her moon, and that was the only case she'd ever heard of. The interior of this one was mostly gray or white, with some outliers: a blue cross adorned a box mounted on the wall, a red handle on the door they'd just entered through and had just closed.

It occurred to Twilight that she was heading into the purely unknown, into places ponies had only dreamt of going. The craft shuddered, the ground fell away from view through the several windows of the craft, and she fell into a sitting position. She swallowed. This is it.

Chapter Six: Beyond the Sky

"Eclipse, engage gravity." The Skipper switched channels with a push of a button on his wrist-mounted PDA.

"Whoa, back it up, Skipper," Powell said, shifting in his seat and yawning. "How does any of this make sense?"

"It doesn't!" Kathy said excitedly. "We're certainly going to try and change that, though." Of all the things Kathy had seen so far here, that there was a chunk of the populace' with inherent ability to use magic was most intriguing. What was it really? What could we do with it?

"That will be our job," the Skipper added. "You and Killian will have to get some rest after going through the clinic."

"I feel like I haven't slept for days, Captain." Powell nodded. "But what about the, uh, unicorn?" He gestured toward their guest.

Killian adjusted his towel, trying not to think about what he'd have to go through at the clinic later. I shouldn't have eaten those fritters. "She's going to tell us where we can land. Speaking of landing, when do you plan on sending her back home?"

The unicorn had seated herself in front of one of the Luna's viewports, and the clear visor of her protective gear betrayed a wide-eyed expression to the Skipper. Perhaps the realization that they were really going to space was the cause, or maybe that she hadn't been in a flying machine before. He frowned. Had they discovered flight? What was their real level of technological sophistication? Only time will tell, he thought, and careful observation.

"Whenever she makes it clear that she wants to leave," the Skipper replied absently.

The Skipper had never been one for history, but he had done his share of reading during the journey and had some sense of what major Earth inventions had come around at what times. Their guest's protective garment, for example, appeared to be far more advanced than anything the rest of the populace had displayed. What was the cause? Why was technology like the unicorn's seemingly so rare? He remembered then an excerpt from his protocol documents. Similarity to terrestrial life is unlikely and should not be relied upon for observations, but always considered.

Twilight tore her gaze from the window, and again looked around the cabin of the craft. The aliens had each taken a seat in chairs of sorts, fitted with restraints. A voice, slightly distorted, spoke in a warning tone. Looking around, it became evident that the voice hadn't come from any one of the aliens. One of her hosts, the one who wore the backpack, was gesturing toward the seat next to hers.

The chair was an uncomfortable fit, not only because of its alien contours or the fact that the contents of her saddlebags were being squished up against her back, but also the fact that she was wearing her Danger Suit. The discomfort was merely an afterthought, however: the anxiety and excitement she felt occupied her mind. What was she heading into? The alien beside her locked down the restraints.

Mere moments later, she felt a powerful force, unmistakably acceleration, far stronger than what she had felt in the minutes after she'd entered the craft. She noticed that the windows had become opaque, their clear panes replaced by pitch black ones. She'd begun to wonder why when the spaceship began to shake.

Twilight squirmed, stuck in her restraints. She concentrated her magic on a telekinesis spell, trying to lift the restraints to no avail. The words–some startled, some warning–of the aliens stopped her from trying something else. Was this normal? The turbulence soon dissipated, and she felt an odd sensation, one of weightlessness. The windows became transparent once again.

The sight was paralyzing. Her world–one she'd never expected to leave–was now a sea of green, white and blue, the view of it encompassing all of the window's views on one side. The windows on the other side showed a view of the Sun–seemingly much larger, but far less bright, from up here. The windows, she figured, automatically adjusted how much light came through. But why had the windows darkened completely on their way up?

She began to hyperventilate. Of all the things she'd expected, was prepared for, nothing could have prepared her for this. "You're a long way from home, Twilight," she muttered uneasily, swallowing and taking deep, filtered breaths.

A voice, Marcus', came through the Skipper's helmet speaker. "Hangar bay reports that quarantine procedures are ready to go. Oh, and if you can get back to the bridge anytime soon, there have been some developments that you should really see for yourself."

"We're coming in." He switched channels to the pilot's. "Bring us home."

The lack of gravity on the inside of the Luna was keeping the unicorn busy making sure her various bits of gear remained in place. Occasionally, a small article would make its way into the air, and she would catch it with her power. such a power had so many practical applications, Kathy observed. Perhaps that was what had allowed creatures without opposable thumbs or even fingers to perform tasks requiring fine manipulation, such as toolmaking or other crafts. Another question begged her attention: how had they evolved with this 'magic' in the first place? Where did it come from in the biosphere? In what raw form would it take? What mechanism did organic beings like this one and the cockatrice use to activate and control it?

Twilight couldn't see any sign of a destination, and frantically looked around for a forward view. As far as she knew, they were simply in space, moving into nothingness. This only made her more anxious, but at the same time it awed her, that these aliens had managed to make machines that could travel in the relative emptiness of space. How seven thousand of them had managed to live in this nothingness for who knows how long, she could only speculate.

It occurred to Twilight that the aliens and her fellow ponies would both be heading into the unknown in their dealings with one another; the aliens' technology was astoundingly powerful, and they had no knowledge of magic prior to today. Still, those things weren't the only ones begging explanation. Why had they come here?

The aliens made several more brief exchanges, their tones ranging from casual to questioning, before Twilight noticed that the view out of the windows had changed. On one side, she no longer saw her world, but a grey surface. From what she could tell, they were moving quickly by it, and this object was no small one; it encompassed the entire view.

This was their real ship, their vehicle for traversing the cosmos, the object she'd seen that night through her telescope in front of the moon. Now she wondered how long they'd sat up here, watching them. Where had they been on their journey? How long had it taken them? Where had they started? There was too much to know, too much to ask, and only a limited capacity to do so. A twang of frustration mingled with the mess of thoughts and feelings that was Twilight Sparkle's mind.

It took longer than she'd anticipated to pass by the ship, and now their vehicle turned, with the view now displaying the rear of the vessel, she assumed, or perhaps its front. Twilight's spacial sense couldn't have been more muddled. Which way is down? Is there a down? Large doors were opening on the surface of the ship, and she could feel heavy deceleration. Again, her view was obscured by their own craft's turning.

As more grey walls, these ones marked with doors, and hatches of sorts, came into her field of view, Twilight regained down, as well as up. Their smaller ship lurched as it landed within the colossal one from which it came, and the restraints disengaged.

The aliens stood as a red light lit up on the door she'd entered who knows how many minutes ago activated. She heard a hissing as the door opened, revealing a chamber she had not seen attach to the craft before. Inside were several of the aliens clad in strange garb, not dissimilar to her own. One of them dropped an instrument it was holding upon seeing her, only to receive a hushed reprimand from his (or her) immediately adjacent colleague. Their suits appeared quite heavy, white and bearing a strange green mark of three adjacent circles, with one overlapping them all in the center.

One of the aliens lifted her saddlebag off of her back, but despite her internal protests, she remained still as they went in turn through a curtain at the back of the chamber. Once it was her turn to go, she slowly stepped forward between two of the suited aliens, but was stopped by one of them reaching out to block her path with a hand. Their faceplates betrayed nothing of their features, and she could not help but be intimidated by them. One of them, the one that had dropped his instrument, said something to the other. The inflection, as she could decipher it, was one of wonder.

Twilight couldn't help but wonder why they'd reacted in such a way to her. It was as if they'd never encountered another intelligent species. Could that be so? She certainly hadn't seen any other species indigenous to wherever they were from that she knew of. A quick passing-over of her person with several handheld devices was all they did before waving her into the next chamber.

She walked in at their coaxing to find a shower of sorts, and she stood with the aliens as fine droplets of fluid accumulated the surface of her faceplate. A series of red lights, similar to the one she'd seen moments before, were lit over a doorway. As she watched them, it became evident that it was some sort of timer. Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, zero, nine... It was based in tens, the numeral represented on the right representing tens of what she presumed were some equivalent to a second, remarkably similar in duration to an Equestrian Standard second. Was it a bit longer? Shorter?

There was no time to run a comparison; with a tone in accordance with the timer's reaching of the alien 'zero' numeral, the shower stopped. As the aliens filed into the next chamber, she looked around for her saddlebag, to find it missing from the room. Where had they taken it?

The next chamber held what seemed to be a sort of dressing room, stark white with curtained stalls. The aliens each entered a stall, and Twilight heard several noises that seemed to indicate that they were taking off their clothing, more likely putting some on in the case of the naked alien. She decided not to do so, herself; if this whole process was to ensure that it would be safe to enter their ship again as she thought, then it'd be a fairly foolish thing to do.

"What if her suit's not really sealed?" Killian asked, slipping on a pair of pants.

"I don't think we need to worry about that, Killian," Kathy replied. "If she didn't have a suit that worked, she'd have brought one that did. Who has a broken suit lying around that they'd decide to bring to a place they'd need to have one?"

Interesting reasoning, Killian thought. "Well, what if the suit isn't meant to be sealed?"

"As I see it, her outfit is just about as safe as ours were, and ours are made in compliance with interplanetary laws regarding contaminants. Yours, on the other hand..." She snickered a bit. "But, you're right, we don't know for sure."

Kathy had taken part, as had several other department heads, in the design of the crew's general purpose suits. They had 'smart fibers' at key points that made putting them on and taking them off easy, but provided a seal thanks to their nanometer-scale weaves when worn as a full suit. No good in a vacuum environment, but quite effective for atmospheric use over a wide temperature range. On top of that, its dark blue color was rather stylish. Or, she'd thought it so around two decades ago.

Killian huffed. "Maybe we shouldn't use fingerless gloves, then." The reason for the security personnel's lack of protection in that particular spot was for their assault rifles, which required a fingerprint ID to operate; a modification suggested by Killian to reduce the likelihood of mutiny. Stupid, stupid, stupid...

"Skin contact might not be the only way magic can affect our bodies, though," the Skipper said. "It's clearly a possibility, considering the unicorns' abilities."

"Oh, once we've gotten enough time in the labs, I think we can crack this magical nut. Now that we know that this isn't necessarily a biological property belonging to a singular creature, I don't think we were looking in the right place. The physics department is probably where it should be looked at now." Kathy paused briefly, then asked thoughtfully, "Skipper?"

"Yes?"

"I'd like to go back to that forest as soon as possible. There's a wealth of diversity there that we'd only begun to scratch the surface of when things went wrong. I believe that all we have to do is adjust our tactics."

Killian interjected, "What can we do? Send more men? Not split up? Well, of course, but what can we do if we encounter something else that gets us in a tight spot? I have difficulty believing that cockatrices and little blue flowers are our only problems there. Maybe we should wait until we can communicate with the locals before launching another mission. They must have classified at least some of the life in there."

"I agree with the Chief," Powell said.

Sanders spoke up from his stall. "If I may add, Chief Reynolds, it'll be a substantial amount of time before we'll be able to converse with the aliens well enough to communicate advanced concepts. While I am certainly looking forward to looking into the intricacies of their language with our guest, it'll likely be after we land by a fair margin before we can consider sharing records effectively."

Time. Time was a resource the Skipper knew Eclipse had plenty of. Sparing disaster, there was no reason the ship couldn't stay in orbit for several more Earth years. There was time enough for any number of things they could do before landing or before some other thing, but they needed information most of all, and time can never be stored. It is spent or it is wasted, and they were wasting time by being scared to leave the house. But was the risk really worth it? "I'll consider it," he said flatly.

The humans exited their stalls, having discarded their clothing for processing. The unicorn had remained near the entrance of the chamber, her intelligent purple eyes simply watching them from inside that suit of hers. It finally struck the Skipper that he hadn't instructed or otherwise indicated to the unicorn that she was to keep her suit on, or that she wasn't to follow them into the stalls or claim a stall of her own. He issued a mental self-reprimand before indicating for her to follow.

In the next chamber was what had been taken of their gear. The aliens watched her as she checked the contents of her saddlebags telekinetically. She noticed that one of the aliens was wearing a helmet: the one they'd cured at the spa, she figured. Did he need a helmet because he was exposed to the outside?

Twilight stepped out of the last room, and into the vast space in which their vehicle had landed, following the aliens. Only now was she able to appreciate its sheer size. Its ceiling was as high as some of Canterlot's taller apartments, if not taller, and studded with bright white lights. A look in the direction from which they'd came revealed that a massive hatch or door had shut behind them. Swallowed by the beast, she thought. More looking uncovered that the aliens' landing craft was not unique; she managed to spot several identical vehicles, and some others she did not recognize, ones that had several wheels. All were painted the same silver-grey, with some dark blue decals bearing designs not unlike Princess Luna's cutie mark. Similar ones, she'd noticed on the aliens' clothing. Their insignia, she deduced. Did they have a moon where they came from? It couldn't possibly be the same one. Certainly a peculiar coincidence.

She began to walk away from the peculiar multi-chambered wheeled building-esque thing that had attached itself to their craft at the lead of her hosts, and moved through a door into a corridor wide enough to fit about four of the aliens side-by-side. These corridors were lit with similar white lights to those in the previous cavernous room, something she'd deduced that everything in this massive spaceship was lit by. Another thing she noticed was a slight, constant hum that she'd associated with some of the heavier electrical equipment she had worked with. Everything here was powered by electricity.

As they crossed an intersection, the alien leader issued some orders, and all of those that had been on the flying craft with her went separate ways, except for him. He motioned for her to continue following him. Unconstrained by the width of the corridor, she took to walking beside him. Without others around him, he seemed to have relaxed. Tension clearly visible on his bare face while they were on the ground had faded just slightly, until he looked back at her, at which point it crept back. He muttered something before chuckling slightly, a short question that he knew she couldn't answer.

Many of the crew in the corridor stopped what they were doing as he passed, not due to the Skipper's presence, not at all, but that of his companion, and watched. The unicorn would return their gazes uneasily–though it was hard to tell her exact reaction through that visor–and some would mutter some variation of "Wow," "This is what they look like?" or "They have suits?". He hadn't a need to explain her purpose; Marcus must have seen to it that their guest's coming be announced.

The Skipper hadn't had a lot of time to walk the corridors of Eclipse in the recent days and weeks; he had been too busy performing management tasks related to getting everything ready for their arrival. Usually, most of the crew would be doing maintenance tasks or going about their routines; jobs for seven thousand people while traveling the emptiness of space were hard to find, but with preparations for the great unpacking going on there were many roaming the corridors with various agendas. It would be interesting to see what the crew would make of their first impressions of the alien ambassador.

He glanced into the backpack of sorts she'd brought. Obviously custom-made to bear her mark, it seemed to only contain numerous books, paper, and writing implements. Was she a scholar? He supposed he might bring some sort of way to document his findings if he were brought aboard a totally alien vessel, but that wouldn't be all that he brought.

There was no conversation between the pair, only exchanged glances, until they'd reached their destination: Topography A. The man inside the room of significant size seemed startled at the alien's appearance for a moment before speaking. "Skipper," he acknowledged, clearing his throat and straightening out, lest he make a poor impression. "Holomap is ready." He gestured to the device that spanned most of the room; a table of sorts and many projectors.

The topography labs–of which there were two–were equipped for planet-wide observations, with the comparatively large room filled with screens displaying readouts from the various satellites they'd launched to survey it, as well as the ship's precision imaging suite. Though, the highlight of the room was where all this data could be rendered and displayed at once: the Holomap, a dynamic holographic projection device.

The machine flickered to life, and quickly rendered an aerial view centered where their Luna had landed earlier that day, its position clearly indicated. The alien's eyes widened, and the Skipper couldn't suppress a smile.

Twilight circled the table. An overhead image of Ponyville and the surrounding area? How had they done this? She moved a hoof to touch a hill, and drew it back at the lack of touch. It was some sort of projection, a three-dimensional one. And it wasn't even magical? She blinked, and realized something. She could show them where they could land with this map. She had wondered how she would have to do that, but hadn't imagined it going anything like this.

Wherever she put them, they would need to have room to expand, to work and farm. Did they farm? The projection portrayed the area from quite a high point, and while she could clearly make out Ponyville itself–she'd seen it from similar elevations before–she could also make out Ghastly Gorge and the fields nearby to the southwest, mountains to the northwest, and the Everfree Forest, among other things. If she were to observe the aliens on a regular basis, they'd have to be situated nearby Ponyville. However, she'd have to be careful not to place them in too dangerous or too close of an area.

What if the Princess disapproved of her choice? She wasn't well-versed in property rights, and how would the aliens consider the land she gave them? Would they consider it not under Celestia's jurisdiction? She had no way of sending a letter, and couldn't voice an opinion to the aliens. The choice had to be made now, or so it appeared.

The lead alien said something to the other, and portions of the map gained a bright green tinge, and others red tinges. Were these locations they'd deemed safe to land in and those they had not? Which indicated which? A rough circle around Ponyville, as well as the Everfree Forest and the several mountains and hills in the area, were highlighted in red. Unsuitable? Not flat? Full of trees? Those spots that remained were those in green, and the amount of map covered by them was significantly smaller. Suitable, flat.

But of these sites, which would she select? She walked slowly around the table, and noted a spot most accommodating: The Ghastly Gorge vicinity. It had wide fields and mountains to the north, a river to the east, the gorge itself to the south. It was less than an hour's trot from Ponyville to there, and the majority of the area was documented as safe and flat to her knowledge with the exception of the gorge itself, as well as highlighted on their map as away from unsuitable spots.

She placed a hoof above the area and shook it. The lead alien looked at it, then back at her. She nodded in confirmation. Somehow, the projection zoomed in on the area.

The unicorn again indicated the zone. There was their landing site. "Mark it," the Skipper ordered, to which the topographer replied with an acknowledgment. The unicorn telekinetically produced a piece of paper and writing implement from her bags, and jotted something down and put it away. The Skipper led the unicorn out of the room, and headed for the bridge.

*****

Killian stepped out of the clinic and sighed deeply. That was unpleasant. He turned a corner and bumped straight into Kathy.

"I was looking for you. How was your check-up?" Her face wore a smile, which Killian countered with a frown.

"Just fine. Why were you looking for me?"

She straightened out, and gestured toward him. "The good doctor sent me your biometrics and tissue sample data, and I've got good news: There's no traces of alien DNA or anything of the sort in your system; you look like you're one hundred percent human again, surprisingly enough." She was still smiling.

Killian's frown faded. "Alright, thanks for letting me know. You have something else to say, don't you?"

"I do. About that mission I've been trying to get past the Skipper..."

The frown returned. "That old man probably won't let you go through with that. If it were in my hands, I wouldn't either. What is it?"

"I have a list of modifications to our strategies and equipment we might be able to make use of." She handed him an electronic clipboard. "Based on observations I've made, that is."

Killian examined the display. It showed designs as well as text detailing weapons and munitions modifications, of all things. It was clear that she had been looking into this extensively. How she'd gotten the time to spend on these ideas, he had no idea. The woman kept herself busy when there was something to be busy about, that was for sure. He sighed. "I'll take a look at them."

"Great! Now go get some rest; total transformation sounds really quite tiring." Kathy departed down the corridor. She was right; he could use a nap.

*****

"Welcome home, Skipper," Marcus said as the commander entered the bridge with his companion. "There's been several reports sent in that require your attention. Has our new friend, uh, told us anything?"

Marcus had been alone on the bridge. The ship's various departments were separate and rarely required management from a control center, and it was rare for messages to be relayed to the commanding officer unless they were of importance or could not be resolved by managers, depending on the message. The last few days, however, had been anything but normal; rare and impossible occurrences were happening hourly, and any number of important issues were raised.

"We now know where we're going to land. She was surprisingly decisive," he replied. "You should have received a message from Topography A containing the positional data. Oh, I'd like those reports on a clipboard."

Several key presses later, the communications officer handed him the requested clipboard, sparing a glance at the suited unicorn. A few more key presses later, Marcus spoke again. "Ah, we're putting down there. I should contact the Geo Team, then?"

"Yes. Also, there's something everybody needs to know about this place."

"I'm listening."

"We've found out what's causing all of these physical impossibilities: this world has real magic about it; some sort of new physical force that is the cause of a lot of the things we cannot explain with what we do know."

He laughed loudly. "Skipper, are you alright?"

The Skipper didn't respond, but instead motioned 'magic' at the unicorn–a tap on his forehead, indicating a horn–then held the clipboard in her direction. Her horn, despite having been covered by the suit, still glowed a light purple as she activated her spells.

The electronic clipboard soared through the air, and the unicorn began to rotate and examine it with her telekinesis. He held out his hand, and she moved it back to him, and signed to him her confusion, in the same way she'd done before, making an exaggerated motion with her front legs and cocking her head. "Trust me," he said.

The man sitting in front of his console's mouth was agape. He shook his head before saying, "That was unexpected, but I'll take your word for it, and I think I can trust my eyes. I'll do it, but if everyone goes around calling me insane, it's your fault."

The Skipper left the bridge, clipboard in hand and unicorn beside him. She didn't appear to have any knowledge of what was going on, and watched as he flipped through some of the reports. Most departments were ready. Fabrication, Agriculture A through G, Security, pretty much all of them. Department statuses were meeting quotas. What had the communications officer meant by things he had to see?

His question was answered by Topography A's report. It detailed the confirmed sighting of a floating city, with images. The report also detailed how much it didn't make sense, but it had been explained by now. This planet wouldn't run out of surprises anytime soon, and a city made out of and on clouds wasn't overly surprising. Already this place had tempered him against surprise. He'd been told to 'expect everything and the worst, and be prepared for it' in his mission briefing, but the higher-ups, along with just about everyone including himself, hadn't been cautious–or insane–enough to bother trying to prepare for such an extensive array of physical anomalies such as those they'd found here in the form of actual magic; only observation of the star had been explicitly prepared for.

"Attention all crew members." Marcus' voice rang out over the public announcement system. "The Captain's team reports that some unknown physical force is at work in this star system, and is responsible for many of the anomalies within it. A detailed report will be published within the day. Additionally, a landing site has been chosen, and information about it has been relayed to all standard terminals. Please make it a priority to keep yourselves informed."

*****

The Skipper found himself on the bridge again, listening and watching the progress of the geography team on the surface by satellite–cameras on Eclipse couldn't be used as efficiently when gravitational spin was in effect. The unicorn had just been guided to the bridge a few minutes ago. There was little to do until they had more information, so he'd sent her down to talk to Sanders almost two hours before. Her papers were now laden with notes, from what he could see, and Sanders had reported it to have been a very productive session.

The spot she had chosen was, according to their people on the ground, suitable for landing; the ground was solid and relatively flat. It had to be if it were to support the weight of Eclipse's colony modules for a long period of time. Observations had also revealed a nearby connection to what was now known to be the alien rail network. It was roughly three kilometers from the town the Luna landed in.

At that moment, the team called in. "There's something headed our way. Flying... uh, it's some sort of flying vehicle. There's a very large alien riding it and a number of flying ones... pulling it."

"They're friendly; don't raise any weapons. Are they landing?"

"Yes, sir. She's... talking to us, I think."

"Put her through exterior microphone and switch your communications mode to exterior; we have their ambassador on the bridge, she can communicate."

"Alright."

"...Here?" Who was that? Princess Celestia?

"Hello?"

"Twilight! Where are you? How are you speaking to me?" Celestia certainly sounded different over whatever communication method this was.

"I'm in space, far above you, on their ship. I don't know exactly how, but... I think the alien you're in front of has some sort of microphone."

"Remarkable! What have you learned?"

"Well, I've learned a bit about their language, and their ship is just... huge, it's amazing."

"Is this where you've told them that they can land?" There was the question she'd been waiting for.

"Yes. I didn't have any way to contact you, so-"

"Don't worry, Twilight. This site is adequate. I trust your judgments. What are you doing up there?"

The aliens were watching her intently. "They needed to know where they could land, and they were about to leave, so I put on my Danger Suit and went up with them. I found out that there are seven thousand of them up here, and it's so big on the inside, it takes awhile to get anywhere. They've been treating me well so far. I think I'll be able to go home soon."

"That may be a good idea. The diplomatic situation has become... interesting. We can talk about it face-to-face."