"A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it."

- Jean de La Fontaine

Gaia, "New Pangaea" Ground-Zero. July 1st 2038. 0800 Hours.

Sergeant Edward Snowden awoke with a groan, the soft rays of the sun cutting through the tent and casting long shadows across the room. His back ached slightly, a dull, persistent reminder of the fierce battle at the Indian cement factory days before. His eyes flickered open, meeting the familiar but empty rows of beds around him. The quiet was oppressive. Half of his team—Private Karl Sulzberger, Sergeant Denijs Veenstra, and Private Gregor Staebler—were still recovering from their wounds in the military hospital. The empty space beside him felt like an unbearable void, the kind that gnawed at him during the night when sleep failed to claim him.

Rubbing his eyes and wincing from the tightness in his lower back, Snowden slowly sat up. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. His boots, polished but slightly scuffed from the last engagement, lay neatly next to the cot. They were always prepared, ready for the next mission, even when they didn’t know what it was.

His muscles stiffened as he stood up, testing his back again, and after a few moments of stretching, he began his morning routine. His military training was deeply ingrained, a well-oiled machine that guided his actions with precision. He made his bed, tucking in the corners with military perfection before moving to the small table in the corner where his personal effects were kept. There was no room for the comforts of home here—just essentials. His gear, his weapon, and a few small mementos, including a faded picture of his younger sister. The quiet of the morning was interrupted only by the soft rustling of his movements and the faint hum of distant generators outside the FOB.

As Snowden performed his stretches, the battle that had taken place only days ago seemed to replay in his mind. The cacophony of gunfire, the screams of soldiers, the frantic orders shouted into the comms. His breath caught as he recalled the explosion near the cement factory, the smoke rising like a tombstone marking their progress. A few of his men had come back with more than just physical injuries—some were haunted by what they'd witnessed, others by what they'd done. Snowden himself carried the weight of those memories, but like all soldiers, he buried them deep.

“Hey, Ed, you up?” The voice startled him, and he turned to find Corporal Jimmy Barnes standing in the doorway, his face uncharacteristically serious but warm with concern.

“I’m up,” Snowden replied, forcing a grin. “Morning.”

Barnes stepped into the room, leaning against the doorframe. “How’s the back?”

“Still there,” Snowden said with a shrug, though he was clearly in some discomfort. “Ain’t going to be the last time either.”

Barnes chuckled, but there was something else behind his eyes—a quiet understanding that only those who’d fought beside each other knew. He straightened, tapping his pocket. "You hear the news?"

Snowden shook his head. "What news?"

“They’re finally coming clean,” Barnes said, his tone lowering to something almost reverent. “The UN high command’s made the public announcement. The aliens are real. The Equines… everything. We can finally talk to our families. Get access to Wi-Fi again.”

“Damn,” Snowden muttered. “It’s about time.”

The announcement was something they’d all known was coming. The secrecy surrounding the first contact with the equine aliens—who were living on Gaia—had been suffocating. Everyone who’d been directly involved with the initial encounters had been quarantined for fear of foreign diseases, and, of course, for the sake of secrecy. Now, with the information finally being released to the public, life would begin to shift back toward some semblance of normalcy. Families would be contacted, the reality of their existence on another world would be known, and maybe, just maybe, they could breathe a little easier.

“I’ll be able to contact my sister soon,” Snowden said quietly, his voice distant. “It’s been… too long.”

Barnes gave a nod of understanding, his usual smile replaced by the quiet of their shared experience. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’ve got work to do first. Speaking of which…” He hesitated, then added, “We should go visit the others in the hospital, right? See how they’re doing.”

Before Snowden could respond, the sound of boots on gravel drew their attention. Lieutenant Liu Pengfei stepped into the room, his face grim but purposeful. "Captain Hill wants all teams on the field at 1000 hours," he said. "It's important. Get your gear and meet us there."

The weight of his words hung in the air. A sense of urgency. No time for rest or family calls—not yet. Snowden exchanged a glance with Barnes. It wasn’t like them to get orders like this, especially with half of their team still in recovery.

"What's going on?" Barnes asked, but Liu just shook his head.

“Don’t know yet,” Liu said. “But we’ll find out soon enough. Just be ready.”

By 1000 hours, the team had gathered on the field, the sounds of the FOB’s daily operations fading into the background. The weather was calm, the sun rising steadily and casting a golden light across the compound. The air had a crispness to it, the breeze carrying the faintest scent of dust and machinery.

In the distance, Snowden could see the Humvees lined up, their engines idling in the morning air. Nikolayev and Liu were standing next to one of them, their gear strapped tight, looking as ready as ever. Not far from them, First Lieutenant Alex Hill was in deep conversation with a female officer leading a team similar to theirs. As the minutes stretched on, Snowden observed the other team—an eclectic mix of soldiers from various nations, their vehicles parked in formation near the Styriker APCs. A dozen different uniforms, a dozen different nationalities, but all of them were here for the same reason: to serve.

Finally, Alex Hill finished speaking with the female officer and turned to address his squad. He waved them in, his voice firm but calm.

“Alright, listen up, everyone!” Hill called out, his gaze sweeping over the team. “High command’s decided to reorganize our scout teams, especially after what happened with our casualties in the last operation. We’re merging with other teams, including Team Seven—they suffered just as many losses as us. Our mission is to locate and scout the area where our recon drones detected unusual activity. There are some who believe this is the area where the alien forces might be coming from.”

His words cut through the quiet, and Snowden felt a chill run down his spine. A scouting mission, to the edge of alien territory? It felt like they were walking straight into the unknown.

The female officer from the other team then stepped forward, her presence commanding attention. “I’m First Sergeant Karliana Mauser,” she said, smiling broadly, the silver gradient in her hair hinting at years of experience with the German Bundeswehr. “Looking forward to working with you.”

Behind her, a friendly-looking Indian officer stepped forward. “Sergeant Kusika Anagal, Indian Armed Forces,” he introduced himself warmly. His smile was broad, and he had a calm, compassionate air. “It’s an honor to be working with all of you.”

Next, a calm, confident voice broke through the chatter. “Corporal Musa Ngozi, Nigerian Armed Forces. I’ll be doing my part to ensure our success.”

From behind him, an Australian officer spoke up, his voice laced with intelligence and experience. “Colonel Carter Murray. You can count on me, mates.”

Lastly, a Chilean officer with a more neutral air stepped forward. “Jose Nuñez,” he said, his tone distant, almost indifferent. “Let’s get this over with.”

Edward and his team introduced themselves in kind, exchanging pleasantries as they prepared for the mission ahead.

The teams began to settle into their roles, ready to deploy. The mood was tense, but there was also an undercurrent of camaraderie. They had all fought together before, but this was different. This mission had the potential to change everything.

As Edward climbed into the back seat of their Humvee, the familiar weight of his rifle at his side and his Kevlar vest snug against his chest, he felt the calm of the morning give way to a growing anxiety. They were on their way. Towards what? The unknown.

Liu’s eyes were focused on the road ahead, and Nikolayev sat beside him, while Jimmy gripping the .50-cal machine gun tightly. The vehicle hummed steadily beneath them as they drove toward the FOB exit, the sun beginning to rise higher, casting long shadows on the horizon. Edward stared out the window, his thoughts still drifting back to the battle at the cement factory.

They had survived that, but what would this next mission bring? Would it be a peaceful encounter with the alien equines? Or would the first direct contact turn into something far more dangerous?

Only time would tell.

But Edward Snowden wasn’t ready to find out just yet.

As they continue forward towards their destination, an uneasy silence filled the air. The world seemed to hold its breath.

They were about to meet the six mares who would challenge everything they thought they knew about the universe.

Whinnypool, Southwestern Equestria. July 1st 2038. 1100 Hours

The train rattled along the tracks under a radiant blue sky, sunlight streaming through the windows of the passenger car where Twilight Sparkle and her friends sat. The mood inside was tense yet resolute, each pony reflecting silently on the task ahead. They felt the train slow down, its rhythmic clatter giving way to a screech as it eased to a halt at the platform of Whinnypool Station.

Stepping off the train, they were greeted by a bustling scene. The Royal Guard, resplendent in their golden armor that shimmered in the sunlight, disembarked in ranks, spreading out across the village to establish defensive positions. The sight of their disciplined maneuvers was a stark contrast to the disarray among the villagers. Ponies hurriedly loaded belongings onto wooden carts, their faces etched with worry. The warm sun seemed almost indifferent to the tension below.

Twilight exchanged glances with her friends, their expressions mirroring her own mixture of resolve and sorrow. 'These ponies are losing their homes, their livelihoods... we have to fix this quickly.' she said in her mind.

The six mares moved through the village, their hooves crunching on the dry dirt roads. Everywhere they looked, the consequences of the river's pollution were evident. Once lush and fertile fields now lay barren, the grass withered. Twilight could see the urgency in the villagers' actions, each pony scrambling to salvage what little they could. The sight only strengthened her resolve.

They reached the modest town hall at the village's center, where a small group of elderly ponies awaited them on the steps. Elder Maple, her silver mane gleaming in the sun, stepped forward. “Twilight Sparkle,” she said with a tired smile, her voice warm but strained, “thank you for coming. My name is Maple sunleaf, i hope your arrival will bring an end to this turmoil.”

Twilight dipped her head respectfully. “We’ll do everything we can to help, Elder Maple.”

Inside the council chamber, the other elders—Willow, Birch, Pine, and Thistle—sat in a semi-circle around a weathered wooden table. The chamber smelled faintly of dried herbs and parchment, a sharp contrast to the somber atmosphere. Twilight and her friends took their places, their expressions serious.

Elder Willow, a stoic stallion with a heavy brow, spoke first. “You’ve seen what’s happening. Our river, the lifeblood of this village, is poisoned. Crops fail, ponies fall ill, and now these... these invaders build their strange... facility on our land.”

Elder Birch nodded. “The Princess Celestia send the Royal Guard to confront them, but you’ve heard how that ended. Two-thirds of Equestria brave soldiers gone.” Her voice wavered with emotion.

Rarity shivered slightly, the memory of the wounded guards in Canterlot still vivid. The council waited expectantly, their eyes on Twilight.

“We understand your frustration and loss,” Twilight began, her voice steady. “But I believe the confrontation with these creatures was a misunderstanding. They’re scared, just like we are. They didn’t know how to respond to armed soldiers. That’s why we’re here—to try a different approach.”

Elder Pine raised an eyebrow. “You mean to reason with them? After what they’ve done?”

“Yes,” Twilight affirmed. “I don’t believe in violence. We’ve faced many challenges before, and I’ve always found that understanding and friendship can overcome even the greatest divides.”

The council exchanged skeptical glances. Elder Thistle, the youngest of the group, finally broke the silence. “You’re asking us to trust that these creatures, who have already killed so many, will suddenly listen to reason?”

Twilight nodded earnestly. “I believe they will. We just need to approach them differently. If we show them that we mean no harm, they may respond in kind.”

The elders were silent for a moment. Finally, Elder Maple sighed. “You’re right about one thing, we are a nation of harmony. Violence should never be our first choice. Very well, we will give peace a chance. But if this fails...” Her voice trailed off, heavy with unspoken implications.

Twilight bowed her head. “Thank you for trusting us. We won’t let you down.”

After receiving directions to follow the river southward, the six friends departed the town hall. The path took them through the heart of the village and toward the forested outskirts. Along the way, Rainbow Dash broke the silence.

“I still don’t get it, Twilight,” she said, hovering just above the group. “These things attacked our guards and poisoned the river. What makes you think they’ll just sit down and talk?”

“Because they’re scared, Rainbow,” Twilight replied. “And scared creatures lash out. If we approach them calmly, without weapons, we might have a chance.”

“I hope you’re right,” Rainbow muttered. “But if they try anything, they’ll have to deal with me.”

Fluttershy whimpered softly. “I-I just hope they’re not as terrifying as Bon Bon described. Giant metal monsters... it sounds like something out of a nightmare.”

Pinkie Pie bounced along, her usual cheer somewhat make a comeback. “Maybe they’re just grumpy because they haven’t had any cupcakes. Everyone likes cupcakes, right?” Mentally, she is still coping very hard.

Rarity huffed delicately. “While I admire your optimism, Pinkie, I doubt cupcakes will solve this. Still, I agree with Twilight. Dialogue is our best chance, even if it seems unlikely.”

Applejack, who had been silent, finally spoke. “Ah just hope we’re not bitin’ off more than we can chew here. If it comes to fightin’, we ain’t got no armor or weapons.”

Twilight stopped and turned to face them. “Listen, everypony. I know this is scary, but we’ve faced worse before. Nightmare Moon, Discord, Sombra... we’ve always come through because we stuck together. This is no different.”

Her words brought a measure of confidence to the group, and they resumed their journey. Yet, as they approached the river and the dense jungle beyond, a shadow seemed to settle over them. The air grew heavy, and the distant ripple of river began to filter through the trees.

Twilight glanced back at her friends, determination etched into her features. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

Unbeknownst to them, their hopes for peace and triumph over this new threat will not come true. And in the end they will find that Friendship isn't really that magical after all.

Michoud Assembly Facility, New Orleans, Louisiana. July 5th 2038. 2300 Hours.

The NASA headquarters hummed with activity, but the night shift was always quieter, the vast rooms of engineers and scientists far fewer in number. The building was practically a ghost town at this hour. Only the faintest buzz of machinery and the soft clicking of keyboards filled the silence, but Lewis Mack was far from the usual humdrum of his daily routine. His mind was elsewhere, weighed down by the enormous task that lay ahead.

He stood in a dimly lit room, the walls lined with charts, blueprints, and models. A large holographic display hovered in front of him, showing the intricate plans of the new satellite. It was unlike any he had ever worked on before. This satellite wasn’t destined for Earth's orbit like the dozens of others he’d worked on in his career. No, this one would orbit a distant planet—a planet that was not only unknown but also inhabited by sentient beings. This satellite would serve as humanity's eyes on Gaia, a world that seemed to beckon with both the promise of salvation and the uncertainty of the unknown.

As the engineers' voices carried in the distance, Lewis couldn't help but pause for a moment, glancing out of the tall windows into the inky blackness of the night sky. The stars stretched out in every direction, silent and endless, much like the daunting task before him. The lights from the launch facility reflected faintly in the glass, casting long shadows across the floor. His fingers traced the lines of the satellite’s design—sleek, compact, and efficient. It was packed with state-of-the-art sensors capable of mapping vast stretches of terrain in a matter of minutes. But those sensors, he knew, would face a world far more difficult to navigate than any satellite he'd launched before.

Gaia was not Earth. The satellites that had been sent to orbit Earth were designed with predictable variables in mind—solid launch infrastructure, satellite control centers, maintenance protocols—all tested and refined for decades. But on Gaia? There was nothing. No infrastructure. No launch pads. No trained technicians to keep things running.

The complexity of mapping a new planet was overwhelming. Earth had been mapped meticulously for centuries, and even with modern technology, there were still vast areas left unexplored. But Gaia was different. They didn’t have the luxury of years to refine their maps. With Earth’s asteroid clock ticking, every second mattered.

But this wasn’t just about finding out where rivers and mountains were located—this was about identifying the alien civilizations, understanding the lay of the land, and preparing to establish first contact. The government had been scrambling to know where the population centers were, where the cities and military bases were, if they existed at all. It was all about preparation—for what? A peaceful settlement? Or perhaps to strategically position themselves for a future they could not yet predict? Lewis didn’t know. But whatever the reason, the urgency could not be overstated.

Yet, sending this satellite was just the beginning. The complexity of launching a rocket into orbit from an unscharted world was unlike anything Lewis had dealt with before. Even with the contract they had with SpaceX, the task was monumental. SpaceX had agreed to supply a rocket capable of lifting off with minimal infrastructure—nothing like the well-established launch pads of Earth. The rocket had to be tested, recalibrated, and launched into the unknown. Even if everything went perfectly, it would take months—perhaps even years—before they could map the entire planet.

Still, Lewis was focused on the satellite in front of him. He carefully folded its solar panels, pressing them into compact origami shapes to fit it snugly inside the payload bay of the rocket. The satellite was a masterpiece of modern technology, a far cry from the massive, cumbersome machines of the past. It would provide high-definition mapping with unprecedented detail. But even as he worked, doubts filled his mind. Was this really the answer? Could this satellite truly solve the problems they were facing? Could mapping a world give them the answers they desperately needed to prevent humanity’s extinction?

He let out a deep sigh. There was no use in worrying. The asteroid would still come, whether they were ready or not. Perhaps, just perhaps, if the space race had not been stifled by political maneuvering and bureaucratic neglect, humanity might have had the technology to stop the asteroid. If the budgets allocated for wars or personal gain had been invested in space exploration, they might have already colonized Mars. The asteroid could have been stopped, and Earth might not have been facing its final days.

But those opportunities had passed. Political shortsightedness had ensured that Earth’s future was doomed. The money that could have saved them was wasted—spent on the wrong priorities, under the guise of national interests and partisan greed. Now, humanity was left to pick up the pieces, forced to embark on an uncertain journey to an unknown world. The path to salvation lay beyond the stars, under the light of a strange alien sun, and the decisions of a few men and women would decide the fate of billions.

The more Lewis thought about it, the more he became disillusioned with the system that had led them here. The truth was that humanity could have been exploring the galaxy by now, reaching out to other sentient species, and building a civilization that spanned the stars. The dreams of children who had once looked up at the night sky and wondered about other worlds were now dashed, their hopes replaced with the cold reality of survival. The fate of an entire species had been altered by the stroke of a pen—by the decisions of politicians who never thought beyond the next election.

He looked down at the satellite once more. There was no turning back now. The launch was set. The rocket was ready. It would go, whether he was ready or not. He had to focus on what was at hand—the mission, the mapping, the future of Earth and Gaia.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Lewis placed the final piece of the satellite into its protective casing. The night outside seemed even darker now, as if the universe itself had taken on a more ominous tone. The stars shone with an indifferent brilliance, their distances too great to comprehend. As he finished his work and stood up from the table, a heavy weight settled on his shoulders. Humanity had come so far—but now, it was an entirely different world they were headed to.

He paused, staring at the satellite, as the realization struck him again—fate was cruel. A single, insignificant decision could change the entire course of history. And now, they were left to face whatever awaited them on Gaia.

They would have to face the unknown.

And they would have to do it alone.

Author's Note

Sorry guys, our galaxy spanning Empire seems to be postponed, permanently.