I thank the wonderful Pon Katt, MisterMoniker, and InfinityXanadu for their time making this chapter fit to read. Enjoy!
Note that this chapter was originally going to be much, MUCH longer, but I decided to split it in half.

Up in the Nuclear Tears, Aldrich was telling his story to a rapt audience. "...and that's when I saw her. I don't know how I could tell, or guess, or whatever, that she's female- I just sort of know. Anyway, she seems sapient- she was definitely using a telescope. Our eyes met for a moment. I know it seems impossible but believe me, it really happened! Anyways, I think she was just as surprised as I was. Maybe scared, but I doubt it. It seemed like she was as curious as anything else." He paused for a moment to scarf down the salted and preserved steak that had been salvaged from the pantry, and to take a sip of Cognac. His cheeks reddened almost immediately- he was of slight build and never had much tolerance for alcohol. He continued speaking quickly, his auburn hair bouncing on his head as he opened and closed his mouth.

"Anyway, they seem to be relatively advanced. From what I saw, this creature’s house, or home, or nest, seemed to be what resembled a large tree with what appear to be rudimentary windows and doors, and this was at the center of what appeared to be a farming village. We need to go down there as soon as possible and make humanity's first contact with an extrater-"

"Hold it."

Hleid had spoken, raising a hand to silence him from across the slick black plastic table. She finished chewing a tiny morsel of meat, then spoke. "We have to be somewhat careful about establishing contact with another civilization of sapient beings. Who knows what their psychology is like- they could be docile as sheep or vicious killers. And they almost certainly will be both curious and fearful. When anything is scared, being to quick to approach is not wise. You don't need an expert on aliens to tell you that." She smiled across the table at Aldrich, clearly meant as a gesture that there was no ill will in her plea for caution. Michael spoke next.

"Nonetheless, I agree with Aldrich. We should get going after a good sleep. As long as we were frozen, I very much doubt that we actually got any rest. And besides, it'll take preparing to load up the Pods with everything we'll need. Right, Hleid?" He asked, directing it at the pilot. She nodded.

"So!" Michael said, picking up his plate and glass of brandy and making towards the sink and towel in a far off corner of the mess hall. "I think we all need a good night's-day’s, or whatever it is up in here- sleep. And," he said, winking at Luka, "I think i'll need a bit of time to sleep off this Cognac, after being so soundly beat by Luka." They all laughed, and cleared their own plates as well. Afterwards, Luka, Aldrich and Michael walked into the men's dormitories, discussing the events since they had arisen and making their excitement generally known. Hleid, Amelie and Donna were doing the same as they walked to their bunks far off in the ship. As they turned off the lights, all of their brains were reeling with anticipation of a brighter future.

"So, what do you think will happen down there?" Michael mumbled somewhat incoherently. He was obviously already drifting off.

"I know humanity won't survive, but we will live on eternally in memory of those creatures, if nothing else..." Aldrich spoke into his pillow, and then remembered nothing more.

Twilight had involuntarily fallen asleep. She cracked open her eyes and saw a beautiful pink sunset and felt warm, rested, and comfortable. But she was not in her own bed- why was that? And all of a sudden it hit her like a battering ram. The Record.

How could I have forgotten that!? How could I have let myself fall asleep! she silently raged at herself, and stood up, casting off a dark blue blanket. She looked back at it briefly. Spike must have thrown it over her sometime in the past hours, and she felt a surge of affection for her assistant. She wrote a note for Spike and left it on top of one of the library shelves, which she knew for a fact he cleaned three times a day. Then a glowing aura of amaranthine light surrounded her, and she vanished with a great CRACK! and a bang.

She landed at what must have been her destination, a quiet, crooked little alley with candles lighting up every door and rough cobbles on the street. She was in Old Canterlot, what used to be a bustling city but now was just a sleepy little hamlet at the foot of Mount Canter. Panting for a moment after using such difficult magic to travel such a long distance, she leaned against a rough facade of cobblestone. There was the smell of good food cooking, and her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten in almost a day.

She saw a white unicorn mare inside a building with grubby plate glass but a happy atmosphere to it, sitting on a stool and leaning casually against the wall while talking animatedly to another mare, this one grey and regal-looking. She could see the sun through one end of the alley, its pink rays shining warmly on her face, and she regretted that she was about to interrupt somepony’s romantic candlelit dinner.

She pushed open the wood door with a bit of effort- it was mounted somewhat tightly in its frame. A filing of paint on the brick facade came off with as it opened. A slightly overweight colt looked up at her from a desk, and smiled, saying “Ah, hello Miss Sparkle! Would you like a table?”

Twilight was momentarily taken aback by the fact that this pony she had never met knew her name, but remembered that many considered her a war hero of Equestria. It was something that she had not, and she suspected, never would, get used to. “No, i’m sorry, sir. I just really need to talk to one of your customers. That white unicorn mare over there? Could you fetch her for me, please?” The earth pony looked somewhat bemused, but did not question her. He walked over to Vinyl Scratch and began speaking to her and gesturing over at Twilight. After a few moments, she stood up and walked over to Twilight Sparkle, beginning to talk fast.

“Why are you here? Is there some problem? It’s not about the noodles, is it? Oh, please tell me it isn’t about the noodles!” Twilight looked at the DJ incredulously.

“What noodles?” She said, somewhat suspiciously, and saw a nervous half-smile form on Vinyl Scratch’s face.

“I never said that. And I doubly didn’t say that if Octy- Octavia, that is- ever asks.”

Twilight grew slightly impatient with what she saw as frivolous distractions from her point, although she had to admit she was curious about these ‘noodles’. “No, it’s nothing like that. I just need to borrow one of your turntables. Official business. Of course, I can pay if you so desire.”

Vinyl’s face was momentarily confused, but she masked it quickly. “Of course you can borrow one. And I would desire payment, but it doesn’t seem right to ask for handouts from you.”

“Excellent,” Twilight spoke crisply. “Could you show me where they are?”

Vinyl Scratch glanced back at the gray earth pony, who was staring over at the two of them curiously with her head cocked in their direction, evidently trying to listen it. Vinyl gave her a warm smile and she responded in kind, and then the unicorn turned back to Twilight. “I hate to delay you, but I’m in the middle of something. Would you mind meeting me by the statue of the Mourning Mare in the town square, in about three hours?”

Twilight was sympathetic to the DJ’s plight, though she was quite impatient for the records and the prospect of getting permission from the Princess for borrowing something from the Canterlot Archive was not pleasant. She smiled at Vinyl Scratch, and said “Deal. I’ll see you soon. Have a nice dinner,” At that she walked away and Vinyl, seeing the conversation had ended, waved a farewell that Twilight never saw, and sat back down with her date.

“So,” Octavia said in a somewhat bewildered tone. “What did Twilight Sparkle want with you?”

In the Nuclear Tears, Donna had awoken. For a moment she forgot where she was and why she was in such an uncomfortable bed, then she remembered with a start and, slowly and ponderously, she rose out of bed, floating for a moment, and she put on her boots. The cold soles froze her feet, but she didn’t pay attention. Afterwards, no longer subjected to the aggravations of zero-gravity, she dressed quickly in her clothes and shook Amelie on the bunk above her, and Hleid on the bunk below. “Wake up, sleeping beauties,” she said, though she felt rather groggy still herself. Hleid woke up the instant she was shaken, looking about wildly for a few seconds, and attempting to stand up but hitting her head on the steel composite of Donna’s bunk.

“How is it,” she grumbled, “that I always seem to end up on bottom, regardless of how hard I try otherwise?” Amelie gave a half-laugh, half tired grunt of exhaustion, and muttered something about being “curious about the physics of showers in zero-G”, walked out of the dormitory like a zombie, shuffling her feet. Donna called after her, “Leave the physics to me, dear, and just get a shower! We should leave soon, or Aldrich will leave us behind, you know!” Another grunt was her only reply.

Donna, after making sure Hleid was safely out of bed and not liable to fall back asleep, decided she probably needed a shower herself and followed Amelie out of the door, a small spring in her step.

While she was walking the short distance to the bathrooms, she passed the men’s dormitories. Knocking on the door, she called, “If you aren’t up in five minutes I’m going to turn on the klaxon and one of you will have to turn it off, because I won’t!”

Inside, Luka grumbled something incoherent and stretched out his arms in either direction, standing up a moment later and arcing his back, stretching his colossal body entirely. He was well over six feet tall, and muscular every inch of his frame. He poked Michael and Aldrich in the sides, saying, “Wake up. Donna is impatient.”

Michael groaned. “I’m starting to think that maybe the drinking game was a bad idea... do you... why is the room spinning?”

“Yeah, maybe it was at that. But I won, so don’t whine.”

“Prick. I need a cold shower to clear my head.” He stood, slightly unsteadily, and shook his head quickly, as if to shake befuddlement out of his mind like so much water off of his head. He unsteadily stood, stretched out, and gave a small sigh. Aldrich had still not responded to Luka’s jab, so Luka poked him again. At this Aldrich spun off a long and excellently-chosen string of the choicest curse words, and Luka decided to leave him be for a bit. Michael laughed at this, then almost tripped almost his own feet in his dizziness.

“Need a hand there?”

Michael looked uncertain for a moment, as if he wanted to lie and say he was doing fine, that he needed no help, as to preserve his honor. But, as he opened his mouth to reply, he wobbled particularly wildly and almost fell. He seemed to cave at this.

“Fine”, he grumbled. “I need a hand.”

After their showers, all of them redressed and walked into the mess hall, their hair still wet and still in the air was the ambrosial smell of the soapy abstergents applied in the shower. Amelie wandered to a kitchen to a small interface, where she pressed a button. A few moments later a thick, yellow something appeared on plates, along with forks and knives. It seemed to be a pâte of some sort, but of what manner exactly was unknown.

Amelie frowned as she walked back into the mess hall. “That’s certainly not scrambled eggs. It’s not an egg of any flavor at all! What is it?! I pressed the button for eggs and I get this?” Luka was staring dourly at his plate, head down with fork and knife in hand and fists clenched.

“I hate artificial eggs.” He looked up at the rest of their confused and unhappy faces, and explained, “In less well-to-do parts of the world, places none of you have ever visited, they don’t have access to the premium advantages of wealth and contentedness as some of you. For example, eggs are extremely expensive for the less well-to-do, but they still need protein. The solution?” He poked at the pâte with a knife, and it wobbled like jelly. It was supremely repugnant. “The only reason we have had the pleasure of being stocked with it is because it is virtually imperishable. Not that you’d know, eating it a million years after it was made is no happier experience than eating it right after it was cut into sheets in the factories.”

He wrinkled his nose, a smell of rubbery shoe-soles and old socks was permeating the air. Luka stood up, picked his plate and the other five, and flung them into a disposal heap. No one objected. Then he walked over to the same interface Amelie had used and pressed a different button. Within seconds, new plates, now with freeze-dried salted meat, appeared from the mechanism that delivered the food. This smelled like real food, and all of their stomachs were empty, so they dug in. Hleid recoiled slightly with her first bite, however. Luka looked up, seemingly understanding. “It’s really salty. Sorry, but you need this much preservatives for a long journey, even with freeze-drying.” She paused, and continued eating, but retrieved a glass of water from the central unit at the table.

When they had finished eating, they walked together to the crew’s lockers to retrieve the few personal effects they were to bring with them to the planet. Luka opened his locker before the others- it was closer to the door. He withdrew an ancient leather jacket, with a small medal on it near the breast pocket. Aldrich, who was withdrawing a tiny collapsible telescope and fitting it into a pocket of his flight suit, noticed a glint of gold in his peripheral vision, and looked over at it.

“What is that?” he asked.

“It’s a medal. I was awarded it a couple years ago... well- you know what I mean. Not years in time, but by our perception- for helping the needy. It’s an old tradition, almost obsolete, but I still treasure the thing more than anything.”

“What’s the medal called?” Aldrich asked again, intrigued. Luka puffed up his chest in pride, making him look even more huge than normal.

“The Nobel Peace Prize. You may have never heard of it, but it’s appointed to those who the Nobel Foundation believe have done ‘real and permanent good’... or something like that. I don’t remember. But it was awarded to me after I left my university to teach children in the slums. I spent a year in the Chernobyl Zone, and then I was awarded the prize. The GCN took notice of me after that, and apparently they needed teachers for the ambassador’s children on Olympus Mons, and I was beginning to fear for my health, so I took the job. That’s how I was there when... well. You were there, and it doesn’t bear repeating.”

Aldrich was impressed. “I didn’t know you had such a caring and generous heart. You deserve that prize.”

“Thanks” Luka smiled. “I just wish my parents could have seen me. I may be generous, but I came from their mold.”

Michael had noticed their conversation. He sauntered over, a small holster at his side. “Just in case,” he said at their furtive glances at the concealed weapon. Donna had a baker’s cap on, Amelie with a small GCN emblem pinned to her flight suit, and Hleid had a aviator’s jacket on over her flight suit.

“Ready to go?” Hleid said in a commanding tone. It was almost time to fly, and she was in her element. “Yes,” they all said, and followed her down the ladder.

“Ladies first,” Donna said. “I don’t trust you men to keep from ‘accidentally’ looking up.” Nobody laughed. Hleid was too busy rehearsing her flight school training and the rest of them felt queasy at the prospect of having to repeat the stresses of takeoff so many eons ago. They followed a glowing blue line on the floor through the slick metal corridors with their perfect angles and straight cuts, knowing they may never see the place again and not feeling at all resentful over the fact. It had saved them, and protected them, but it was no home.

The blue line, the exact same color as all the other lights on the ship, was casting a sickly, deathless light upon their faces that seemed to have no shadow, as the light reflected off of the slick black walls. They passed an oxygen vent and felt air blow their hair in a false wind. They all wondered if they would be able to feel a true wind on the planet below, something that had always been rare on earth, and mars had not the fabled gusts of old, but a tiny breeze only.

They arrived at the hanger, cavernous and dull. Black and blue. The same routine. The six of them, in pairs, stepped into small ships with a large single engine taking up most of their volume. Hleid and Michael stepped into one pod. “I still don’t trust you with a ship going upwards of mach twenty-five after your little game last night,” she said, the two of them seating themselves in the capsule. She pointed at the compartment upon which his seat was situated.”Anything happens to any of us-”

“That’s not going to happen.” Michael interrupted dismissively. Hleid stared at him with steely eyes full of sadness.

“There aren’t any humans left, Michael. Do I have to remind you? You have no respect for human life, including your own. We have to take every precaution, especially if any natives that Aldrich believes to exist are hostile.”

“All right, all right.” Michael said, looking thoroughly ashamed. “So, what is in these cabinets?”

Motioning for him to open up the cabinet, “Life vests for water, hazard suits for, well, hazardous environments. It’s all too likely we’ll encounter chemicals our body cannot process on the planet. Also, in the event that we should need protection...” she trailed off as he pulled out an assault rifle, slick black and glowing blue. Like the ship. Everything came back to the ship. “There’s a different weapon in every compartment. I think I have a rifle.” Hleid said.

Michael did not respond. He looked dumbly at the weapon in his hand, sleek and black, almost beautiful. And yet it was a lifeless machine with only one purpose- to end the lives of others. And it looked so much like his first gun. His first kill. He almost started himself down a long path of painful memories, a path lined with thorns. But he shook off the remembrances like the water, and stowed the sleek gun in its container.

He looked out at the hanger. The seal that covered one end was being furled up, and the air being vacuumed out of the chamber now that the six of them were safely in their pods. The moon watched, a silent sentinel to their forms.

“Let’s go.”

Twilight Sparkle was climbing Mt. Canter. The path was disused, though it had been a major road once, but everypony took the train up the mountain these days. But Twilight Sparkle had time, time to think and reflect as she climbed up the mountain’s frigid slope in the dead of a silent winter night. It was tranquil, and peaceful on the slopes. Nopony there to interrupt her constant chain of thought. Her first memory was her mother carrying her up the mountain slopes on a winter’s night much like this. But that was a long time ago.

How can I communicate with this strange creature? Normally I’d suggest the magic of friendship, but how do I know that friendship is a universal force? Does this creature know friendship? Can it be taught?

She was left alone to the shadowy regions of her mind, left to walk in utter solitude for an hour, thinking of language and magic and friendship, but also darker things from uncharted deep places of her cogitance. What about the Want It Need It spell? she thought, and her eyes flashed green, though neither she nor anyone else would ever know. Nopony but the moon was there to bear witness.

Eventually, she passed through the white gates of Canterlot, nodding at two guards in golden armor. They broke their stoicism for once to acknowledge her passing, then went back to their silent vigil. As soon as she passed into Canterlot proper the air warmed. Many occupants of the capital took for granted the spell that Celestia was always subconsciously casting, to make the air breathable and the nights less frigid. The paths in the city were far better maintained than the ancient cobbles on the path to it. These flat, comfortable stones were dull. They had not the rugged soul of the cobbles of Old Canterlot, a place that she had always loved for its ardor.

She walked through the nigh-on deserted streets, the few ponies either scuttling away into the gathering shadows, or bowing regally to her as they passed. The whitewashed buildings with their elegant verandahs and balconies seemed to glow softly in the rising moonlight, shining just barely over the tops of other edifices in the night. The moon was now peering down at her, watching her every move. She looked skywards up the slanting city slope at her destination, the Princess’s Palace. It would be a long walk yet.

Eventually she arrived at the Princess’s Palace. Once again, the guards recognized her and waved her on in. Not a second after she had first stepped foot upon the immaculate navy blue carpet in the welcoming hall was there a clacking of sharp hooves on the marble of the floors, rising steadily in volume and coming closer. Twilight stopped dead, not sure to make of this new turn of events and whether she should run. If it’s the guard, then it’s business at usual at Canterlot. If it’s one of Luna’s physicists, then perhaps there's a reason to be running in the Palace, she thought, and waited.

An instant later a flash of white and blue careened around the corner. It was Shining Armor. Twilight began to call out in friendly greeting, but cut herself off after seeing the cold look in her brother’s eyes. “What is it? What’s wrong?” She asked, bewildered. He answered in a cold, flat voice.

“The day you left Canterlot for Ponyville, I saw you off. If you are truly Twilight Sparkle, recall my words.”

Twilight was astounded. What is the meaning of this? Is everything all right? She was so taken aback that she stuttered for a moment before speaking, in which time Shining Armor tensed further and, seemingly subconsciously, slowly began moving his left foreleg back towards an immaculate silver scabbard mounted upon his steel armor, as if to be ready to withdraw his sword in a moment’s notice.

“You said that it was good that I might finally see the value of friendship,” she said, nervously. What if she had forgotten something? What then would happen?

To both of their reliefs, the answer seemed adequate to Shining Armor. He relaxed, no longer intimidating, his voice no longer hiemal. He leaped forwards and hugged her tightly, almost crushing the air out of her lungs with his muscled forelegs. Before she could ask any questions, he spoke up, overriding her. “I’m sorry, Twily. Remember that letter I sent you, about the changeling scare? We got two real ones earlier today, and we’re still reeling. Somepony almost died.” He shook his head sadly, eyes downcast. “We’ve stepped up security around the Palace... security... around the...”

He trailed off, was silent for a moment, then lifted a foreleg and slapped a hoof over his eyes. “If the guards were supposed to be on higher alert, then why did they just let you in... did they? Did they just wave you on in? She nodded in affirmative, not quite sure what he was talking about.

If his white face normally had any color, it would have paled. As it was his skin took on a gray, deathly pallor and he looked bleak. “Come on! The guards must be impostors; no soldier of mine would disregard direct instructions!” He clattered through the hall, and Twilight followed. Through the entry hall they flew, their resounding hoofbeats echoing. Then through a smaller hallway, this one normal sized, and out a magnificent oaken door inset with precious metals and gems of every kind.

Twilight stopped dead, finding herself gazing directly into her own eyes. It was a strange sensation, not used to seeing her own reflection. She had outlawed full-bodied mirrors in any residence she had ever lived in, due to a childish fear, and the habit had never truly worn off. She gazed deeply into her purple eyes, and wondered, for the first time ever, if anyone thought that she was beautiful.

Then the trance broke, and she realized what she was looking at. A changeling. But what are they- oh no. Are they here to- they wouldn’t- kill the princess? Her reverie was interrupted by her brother stepping forwards, sword unsheathed, as if to shield her from her- no, the changeling’s- gaze. There was surprise in the shadow-her’s eyes, but it quickly evaporated. The changeling’s horn glowed green, and a gout of emerald fire erupted from it. Shining Armor’s eyes narrowed, and instantly his own horn glowed in amaranthine hue as a wall- a solid, impregnable wall- had been conjured in front of him, giving him a second to talk to his sister.

“Take it alive.” That was all he could say before the Twilight-changeling shattered through the ward, and cast another line of fire, not at the two of them, but at the ground. Before they could even blink it had wound between the two of them, and in a green flash, a wall of beryl fire separated the two of them. Twilight was on her own with this changeling-mage of unknown skill, and Shining Armor with the two traitorous- or changeling as well- guards. They both gulped in anxiety, but then a courage like a lion came upon them.

“Let’s do this!” they shouted, as naught but the moon bore witness.

Author's Note

I made a musical selection somewhere through this chapter when I was writing it that really inspired me. Try listening to it when you get to the hyperlink however-far through.