Nuclear Tears

by Arcanist Ascendant

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Science Fiction, Other, Adventure, Tragedy, Twilight Sparkle, Alternate Universe, Human, Main 6
Length: 20533

The last remnants of the human race flee from the now barren wasteland of Earth.

The human race has fallen. Six remain, and they fled from the solar system and drifted through space for an eternity. When they finally are woken from stasis, they find the autopilot had found a verdant green planet. With the intention of settling down and living out the rest of their short lives, they set to land on the planet... and find themselves plunged into a world of intrigue, political instability, war, and friendship. How will they fare on this greatest of adventures?

That, only time shall tell.

[img]http://i.imgur.com/8yzX1Ob.png[/img]

EDIT: I have modified the rating from E to T, as there will be some strong language.

Published 2012-12-03 22:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-03-29 22:20:10 UTC

Prologue: Arise

Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.
— Carl Sagan

A sudden pain like fire jolted Michael back into the world of the living. For a moment, he thought he was back in his bed, but as he tilted his head groggily to the side, he see the glass on his pod through the gloom, fogged up with the effervescence of a thousand thousand years. The glass gently opens up, and he rose along with the vapors surrounding him. Remembering the pain, he looked down at his side, where he could see the tiniest trickle of blood poking through a hole in his no-longer-pristine red flight suit.

He heard a klaxon sound in a far off recess of the ship, somewhere above him, and he stood, stretching his limbs for the first time in... how long? They had had to leave the System so quickly that they couldn't even finish installing counters for how long they were frozen while in cryo-hibernation. Michael and the rest of the humans had no way of telling time, and they had no way of telling their bodies how long it had been since they had felt the warm radiance of the sun.

It has been so long since I have felt anything warm, he thought, and longed for warmth. The pod had been cold. How long did that dark and dreamless sleep last, if it even technically could be categorized as sleep. He felt just as restless and anxious as he had on That day... how long, now? How long have we been running from our sins, seeking only to prolong the tattered remnants of humans? It doesn't matter. Nothing matters now but staying alive. He walked through the ship carefully, up a flight of stairs, and stepped slowly to the controls of the Nuclear Tears like a child learning how to walk. When he reached the control console at the bow of the ship he gasped, for the first time in eons seeing natural light, verdant greens and lush blues. A planet rose before him, and half of its visible face was shrouded with night. We can survive here for a little longer, he thought, and as he thought it, his eyes welled up with tears of joy.

Right, he thought, snapping back to here and now. The first order of business is to wake them up. Wait... he thought, remembering the bump that woke him. What had caused that? Was the tiny cut he had nothing compared to an injury that one of the other humans on the Nuclear Tears may have attained? He had turned away from the windows but turned around again to look.

What.

The planet looked like the pictures of Earth before everything went wrong, Blue and green, oceans, continents, the whole nine meters- but though the galactic odds of such an occurrence were incredibly low, the SETI, in years past had proved that Earth-Twins must exist- no, that their occurrence was not even incredibly unusual. The oddity was- well- the SUN revolved around the PLANET. Michael did a few basic calculations in his head- he had never been particularly talented at mathematics- a star of the magnitude of the one before, a celestial body of seemingly comparable mass to the sun, would need to be orbiting around an object massive enough that the Nuclear Tears would already have been falling towards the planet due to gravitational pull.

And yet, here he was.

Alright, that's interesting, but it's time to wake them up now, stupid, he thought, mentally slapping himself.

Walking back through the mist that was still hanging in the air, he felt weight gather in his stomach. He was nervous; what had happened to the rest of the crew? The engineers had warned them that the technology for cryo-hibernation was new and still relatively cantankerous. Was it possible that they were... dead? No, a small voice in his head spoke. It was just a small bump, you always were a light sleeper, who knows how these pods actually worked? But what if...

"There isn't any time, we have to go now!"

Every few seconds the ground beneath them shook. Through the high windows in the cavernous room, Michael saw the mountains of Mars. The Olympus Mons Neutral-Zone GCN Headquarters was not safe from the bombs and missiles being launched by every System superpower- As hard as the ambassadors from every country tried, none of them could convince their country's military to stop the bombing. The Chinese Conglomerate, Russian Federation and United Empire were frantically trying to work out a treaty, though none of them truly deluded themselves into believing they could save anything of the hell-blasted planets. All there was left was to wake up and smell the ashes.

That's when Michael had suggested Contingency One. In the possibility of any cataclysmic event, presumed to wipe out more than 90% of the universal population of humans alive, there was an ancient spaceship- never named, and hopes of its finish were abandoned when humans, in their decadence and satisfaction with their comfortable lives on the ground, gave up the dreams of space that had driven the very first man who looked up into the endless night and wondered.

But the ship was the most advanced piece of technology ever created, even though it was one-hundred years old, because humans, for the most part, stopped innovating at around the turn of the third millennium. It was reminiscent of ancient movies about space- its walls were dark and dreary, but were efficient at blocking even the most hazardous debris from compromising the hull. It was powered by four nuclear Cherenkov Reactors, and magnets in the floors and specially-made boots would create the illusion of gravity.

It was large- almost the length of three football fields, and the height and width of half of a football field each. It pioneered a new technology- cryo-hibernation. The ship was full of scientific instruments and sported the most advanced A.I. ever made, which was programmed to use any means to protect its inhabitants. A small docking bay for tiny, two-man pods to exit and leave the ship was built as well. It was made to house a maximum of one thousand people, but only a few would ever enter.

Not all humans were as happy with opulence as others. A few, fed up with the rest of their race, and ostracized for their willingness to work, study, think, and create were treated as outcasts simply for their human spirit, something that few humans alive at that point could recall. Six were at the GCN Headquarters during the nuclear cataclysm: Michael White, who worked as a security guard, Amelia Mei-Xing, the Chinese ambassador, Aldrich Cynric, the last human who truly studied the heavens, Hleid Vale, a pilot, Luka Baikal, a teacher, and Donna Hall, a physicist.

These six the rest chose to represent humanity after their death. The six of them tried to force the lame and crippled to leave in their stead, but not a single one of them would allow anyone but the most fit to survive. They argued, wasting more precious time, and said "Death is easy. Life is difficult. We are not ready for a difficult task", and "Sometimes we think that humans live too long", and the six of them, eventually defeated in argument and resigned to their fate, allowed themselves and several engineers one hour to make final adjustments, and then, the final countdown began.

"T-Minus 10." The man announced over the ancient loudspeaker system.

"T-Minus 9."

"T-Minus 8." The announcer's voice faltered, and the unmistakable percussive sound, like a warm summer rain- tears- echoed through the room. The last of the humans were crying for their race's fate.

"T-Minus 7."

"T-Minus 6." There was a hissing of air. The ancient launch silo was opening, and the blast doors open. Air seeped inwards, filled with potent biological, radiological and chemical hazards. Rather than taking cover from their certain death, the humans seemed to welcome their death, or at least were resigned to it. What good would it be to run from their certain doom? they thought; they could only pray for the health of their comrades as they ventured into the dark unknown that they feared more than death. Space: The final frontier, and the only one that never submitted to domination by humans.

"T-Minus 5."

"T-Minus 4."

"T-Minus 3."

"T-Minus 2."

"T-Minus 1... Good luck, and godspeed. The memories of the human race are in your hands now." His voice began to fade, the irradiated martian air began to seep into the room, and people were already showing signs of beginning their slow, painful deaths. The loudspeaker crackled with static a few times, and went silent, before-

"Liftoff."

Past Mars, once the jewel of the Solar System, verdant and green where green things fled from earth. More than a thousand years spent terraforming it, the hard work of the human race, gone in less than a year. It was nothing but a smoldering wasteland, a hell-blasted vista that pained their hearts.

The Earth was worse. Though they had been taught as children that the world was once beautiful, it had been a city of the dead for far before the Cataclysm. There were only steely gray monoliths and muddy drain ditches, harsh colors of electrical signs and disgusting swamps of dumped waste. While most of the landfills had been moved to the Moon, there was only so much that could fit there before it began to get full. The necropolis that once was Terra was burning before their eyes.

"God rest their souls", Luka said, his thick Federation accent somewhat slurring the Common Tongue. The six of them were in it together now. Luka and Amelia were looking through the back windows. Luka was silent and stoic, but Amelie was crying.

"My family lived in the most heavily populated areas, and now they're just.. gone!" She broke into hysterics and Luka tried to comfort her, patting her on the back. Hleid, looking subdued, was wandering around the craft, somewhere between excitement at finally being on a spaceship, like she had dreamed since she was a girl and pain over leaving her life behind. She could never bear to look sad outwardly, as she derived pleasure from seeing others happy and content, no matter the toll it took on her. Donna mumbled something about not have having anything to eat in a day, and slowly trudged off.

Aldrich and Michael were looking out the windows into the unknown. After a while Aldrich spoke, unable to suppress a smile. "We're going out there, can you imagine?" Michael could do nothing but grunt. He was happy that the other man was excited, but felt the situation called for a little respect. As he was about to tell him off, Donna returned with a bottle of wine. She spoke up.

"I think we should name the ship. There's an ancient tradition from earth..."

She strode over to a forewall of the ship, inverting the bottle and holding it by its head. "It's not entirely historically accurate, but it'll do." She raised the bottle over her head, and it fell and shattered against the wall. The musical tinkling of breaking glass echoed throughout the ship. "I christen thee the Nuclear Tears, as you are the last remnant of a force that toppled a interplanetary empire." "What?" she said, at the bemused looks on the other five's faces.

"It's probably time to put ourselves to rest now, isn't it? We have much in store for us." Luka suggested. They all agreed, and trudged down a short flight of stairs. Luka volunteered to go first: He clambered into his pod and pressed a small blue button on the inside of the glass. There was a hiss of air and a frigid mist effervesced from inside the pod, and the glass sealed. The five of them walked over to Luka's pod- they looked down upon him and saw that he was not yet in stasis- he glanced up at them, and a ghost of a smile formed on his lips framed by his scraggly blond hair before all motion ceased. A tiny trickle of mist still emanated from inside the capsule, preserving his body for ever.

The rest of them entered their pods, now reassured of the safety of cryo-hibernation. They said a sombre farewell to each other, in case any of them woke up. Then there was a hissing of air, a cutting breeze throughout the ship, and a dreamless sleep.

His thought stretched only a few seconds into what felt like eternity, but finally he was peering down at a glass arch at a pale face, hermetically entombed forever inside the glass. Raven hair flowed from the woman's head, even though it was frozen, he could have sworn a breeze touched her gently, caressing her. The freezing mist ran like rivulets of cloud, protecting her prone form against the ravages of time. But never more.

Amelie Mei-Xing

Chinese Conglomerate Ambassador to the Global Confederacy of Nations

~~~hissssss...~~~

Amelie rose gently out of the capsule, head in her hands. She shook herself, shivering, and peered groggily at Michael. "Where... where am- oh."

Though still tired-looking, she was no longer sitting down. She was gazing, transfixed, at the planet below. She held up a hand and balled it into a fist, squinting still at the planet, and quietly spoke.

"That's not Earth. It's ...green... and the continents are all wrong. Where are we, Michael? That is your name, correct? There wasn't too much time to get to know each other before they crammed us on this ship." There was a strange trill in her voice, musical and soft, but also sad, and he vaguely remembered it from the Ambassador's Meets on Mars.

Michael slowly padded over to the next pod as the woman stared in wonder upon the planet.

Luka Baikal
Traveling Volunteer Teacher in Russian Federation

~~~hissssss...~~~

And so the process repeated itself thrice more, so that after another minute all six of them were gazing, awed, upon the planet, not knowing the adventure they were in for- whether it would be a peaceful withering to an old age, a desperate battle for survival, or something completely different; but none of them suspected, not even the tiniest bit, what was in store for them.

These six were the first humans in nigh on a thousand years to exit the solar system, and the last ever.
Here is their story. Keep their memory alive.

Garden of Dreams

Twilight Sparkle had finally gotten to that time of the week again.

Her incredibly rigid schedule allowed for little leisure, but every Monday night she had allotted herself a small amount of time to do one of her favorite things- stargaze. She pulled out a new eyepiece from a in her bedroom drawer- the one in the telescope had been getting cloudy of late- and was about to walk onto her balcony that she multi-purposed as a jury-rigged observatory when Spike, her number-one assistant, came careening up the stairs, clutching his stomach. He panted for breath, holding up a claw, and said, "Twi... here- one second!" and gasped "hurp- BURP!" A gout of emerald fire emanated from his mouth, materializing into a scroll that landed gently in Twilight's outstretched hoof.

She used her horn to cut open the wax seal but frowned slightly before she did so. The seal was not Celestia's personal crest- A blazing sun rising over a blue field- but the special Shining Shield emblem reserved for the resident Canterlot Captain of the Guard- and the current owner of that title was her brother, Shining Armor. She already had a shrewd idea about the contents of the letter. Sure enough, when she unfurled the small scroll, she found a short letter written in her brother's familiar scrawl.

Dear Twily,

I'm just writing to say hello. We've still been having trouble with Changelings cropping up here and there, and the guard keeps being sent away from the palace to follow leads we keep getting. Often it's just a confused old stallion wandering around and asking everypony what their name was again, but because of the changeling scare, everyone's been a bit tense in these parts this winter. I understand them.

But I digress. I was just writing to let you know that everything's fine over here, and to ask you to write me back quickly to let me know you're doing fine. Be careful. Not everything is as it seems these days.

Best of wishes forever,

Your big bro, Shining Armor.

Twilight's frown deepened, her purple face creasing into lines. Huh. Well, that was just like all the other letters he sent, but what's this about 'Not everything is what it seems'? Normally her brother sent her a letter a month, but ever since their encounter with King Sombra in the north, he had been writing at least weekly. She had attributed this to Shining Armor regret for not keeping very good contact with her for the past two years since she had left Canterlot, but now she was not sure the motive was so innocent. 'Not everything is as it seems', huh? Not anymore, it seems. Not even you, she mused. She quickly scribbled down a response and gave the new scroll to Spike, who, with another belch of viridian dragonfire sent the letter on its way.

Alright, she thought. No more interruptions. She checked her clock. "Oh no!" she cried aloud, "It's almost 18:00! The Mourning Mare constellation is supposed to be really bright tonight, and I don't want to miss it!" She cantered up the steps to her telescope, and as she passed Spike, who was about to fall asleep in his bed, she almost shouted "No more interruptions!", instantly jolting him out of his reverie. No more interruptions? I can live with that, Spike grumbled to himself, and promptly rolled over and attempted to go to sleep again.

Twilight used another three minutes fitting the new eyepiece on and focusing it correctly; in her haste she attempted to focus it too quickly and threw the whole thing off. She paused only to utter a few of her choicest swear words, and got back to work, more carefully this time. Finally, she sat down, and with a contented sigh, began to examine the constellation Mourning Mare.

If she had not looked at just that instant she would have never have seen it.

A glowing blue insignia, so small that only another pony looking from her direction at the same star would could have possibly seen it as well, blocked out the star Berylsage. And yet, slowly it moved- or perhaps very quickly, and just slowly relative to her, she thought- and the star was visible again. Adjusting the focus slightly on her telescope for a closer object, she began to track the anomaly across the night sky.

It was quite unlike anything Twilight had ever seen before, and she was certain it was not Equestrian in origin. It somewhat resembled a three-segmented flying brick, but that would not be a good way to describe it. At what appeared to be four glowing- ports, or apertures, she could not find the correct word for them. They were long and cylindrical, and the end furthest from the rest of the of the ship was glowing. However, they seemed to be the force- magical or mundane- that drove the entity through the night. They were a soft, radiant blue, but very bright. Some ways further along the- thing, there was the insignia she had seen earlier: it looked like a pair of interlocking concentric circles. Even further up the object than that was what looked like a large slot of unknown purpose, also glowing blue, and above that what appeared to be windows. Windows! I'll go look at those again once i've seen the whole thing!

At this point, Twilight decided that the whole affair seemed rather reminiscent of a boat, so she felt that whatever other sentient race had created the object had probably designed it with that thought in mind. Until she was told otherwise, she decided she would call the object- ship- just that.

Inside the Nuclear Tears, Aldrich, remembering in the blueprints he had briefly seen in the GCN Headquarters, left the congregation in the central room. He entered a lift, waited for a few moments, and stepped out into a new hallway with a slight incline. On the hallway there was a series of windows, and as he passed them by he felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He knew it was a silly idea- stupid, really- but some sixth sense told him that he was being scrutinized by something other than human. However, he never knew till later his suspicions were correct. Some fifty thousand leagues away, one purple unicorn mare was peering up at him through her telescope, intrigued and excited by this creature of which she had no knowledge.

She followed him until the line of windows ended: but at this time she noticed something she had not seen before. There was a large ebony telescope just above where the windows ended- for telescope she was sure it was, despite the obvious technology gap between them, she would recognize the shape anywhere- and Twilight swung her own telescope towards it. Up in the Nuclear Tears, Aldrich was choosing a random location on the planet below to look at. And then, in that moment, the two astronomers peered through their telescopes- one powered by advanced technology, the other mainly by magic and prayer-

And through one hundred-thousand miles of space, their eyes met. What powered this nigh-on-impossible convocation- fate, or luck, chance, or mischance- will remain a mystery. Aldrich saw Twilight's eyes- Deep magenta, mysterious, and magical. Twilight saw Aldrich's- She saw an almond-shaped eye, much the same color as the soft blue glow emitted by the ship.

Both yelped in surprise and leapt backwards, and both went back to their telescopes for another look. But to no avail- the ship had shifted and the perfect alignment required for such a feat was no longer there. Aldrich tried and tried again- but he could only see the telescope on the world below and a purple figure leaning into it, and he suspected; no, knew that she-for he was sure it was a she- was trying just as desperately as he to get another look. Eventually she stood up and ran or trotted out of sight into what appeared to be a house grown into the shape of a tree and he got some notion of her nature. She appeared to be quadrupedal, purple, and had had something resembling a mane or hair on her head. Also, just as he lost sight of her, he saw some protrusion poking out from her head- like a horn, or something similar. He kept watching for a moment, and saw what appeared to be a book- A book!- fly out into the outdoor space. He looked another minute, then walked away from the telescope.

Almost without realizing it he broke into a run, a mad dash that had him speeding past the windows down the shallowly declining hallway, down a service ladder to the elevator-he did not want to wait- and barely hung on to the ladder, sliding down the rail supporting the grips instead of holding on. By the time he arrived at the central control console, he was gasping for air.

"Computer!" He shouted into the voice receiver. "Show me our course since we left Mars!"

~LOADING- the metallic voice responded, and a swirling circle appeared on the mainframe screen. A moment later, a dotted arrow passing by charts of stars and uninhabitable, unnamed planets; through nebulae and near black holes and supernovas. Aldrich examined it for a moment, then said more quietly, "Why did you choose that route? Was it random, or was there some lo-"

~I plotted my course, as best I could, along the conjectured path of the Voyager spacecraft, containing within it the Voyager Golden Records. I ran simulations and found that this world, scientifically designated as SDSSp X1574939.81-0039712.2 B.~

"The Voyager..." he breathed.

"What's the Voyager?"

Aldrich spent the next hour being lectured by the A.I. and learning everything- and more- he ever could have possibly wanted to know about the Voyager and its message for extraterrestrial life sent by a young civilization attempting to establish itself in the widening cosmos. Eventually, there was the clanging of the boots of his brethren rising from the depths of the ship. Amelie pushed open the door to the room, and it rapidly swung away from her, hitting the wall and creating a nick in the black wall.

"We didn't know where you were! We were just having dinner and figured you'd eventually turn up, but it was hours... She trailed off as she noticed a strange look in Aldrich's eyes.

"I was at the telescope," he said, strangely evenly. "There's sentient life on the planet below. I saw them. It saw me."

Amelie gasped. "But... that's amazing! How do you know it saw you back?"

"It had its own telescope. I guess it was an astronomer, like me, and was looking at our ship. But anyway, it looked directly at the lens of our telescope just as I was looking down, and somehow our eyes met. I don't even want to think about how low the odds of that happening are..."

"Well," Amelie quietly said. The food's still warm, and I'm sure the others want to hear what you just said.

Twilight Sparkle was making a mess of her library.

Come on! she mentally berated herself. How can I not have a single book on living things from beyond Equestria? There has to be one, at least! She levitated books over to her, looked at the title, and so far, without exception, discarded it. There were now several growing piles of books, as well as a few instances where her control over the levitation had failed and the book she had been holding at the time went rocketing around the library, bouncing off the walls. She emptied the walls of books completely in about ten minutes, but still she could find nothing, no tiniest trace of knowledge from any quaint or curious volume of forgotten lore. She sighed, and sorted the books back into their proper places on the wall of shelves and went to retrieve the thrown books from the rest of the library.

As she was cleaning up the books that had somehow found their way upstairs, one of them caught her eye. The title read

A Conspiracy? Ancient Evidence of Alien Life!
Written by Over the Hill, published year 5899 A.U.

Twilight scoffed at first- she didn't even need to read the book to know it was a conspiracy theorist's ramblings- she had already lived through six doomsday predictions made by some nutter the media gave undue attention to, and this had been published more than one-hundred years ago! But she was nearly done cleaning up anyway, and her contact with the alien being had left her blood burning with excitement and some other emotion she could not give a name to, and she was certain she would not be able to sleep. With nothing better to do, she sat down, flipped to a random page, and began reading.

...without being present it is impossible to have known. However, it is confirmed that from this smoldering crater the Princess and her guards removed a capsule of some manner, deformed as if by a great heat. Any knowledge of the contents of this capsule from Beyond have been withheld from the public at large! If the anomaly was truly "Of no harm to anyone", as the Princess reportedly stated, then why have they been hidden from us? The public deserves to know! Enclosed was a charcoal-sketched picture of a smoldering crater with a shockingly familiar white alicorn heaving what appeared to be a mangled white dish and a golden... something, out of it. Twilight, of course, knew of her leader and mentor's longevity, but to have it shoved so plainly in her face... it made her feel very small. She continued reading.

However, I have obtained some insight into the nature of this mysterious anomaly, through a source whose name, at their request, I will not disclose. It appears to be some manner of disc, with a cover marked with indecipherable symbols inscribed there. The source made a rough sketch, and I shall enclose the unedited version for you, exalted readers, to examine and draw your own opinions.

Twilight looked over the picture and saw nothing of interest, besides the fact that whoever made it would have put a lot of money into making a golden disc. If nothing else, this Over the Hill was right about indecipherable, she thought. She was getting bored of this book; it had already exceeded her expectations but it still was offering no useful information. If I don't find anything in the next paragraph, she decided, I'll just drop it.

Here are the conclusions I have drawn, however. I consulted experts in my field of study, and they showed me a form of new technology that gives some insight into the nature of this alien relic. I attained an EXCLUSIVE writ of permission from the Princess herself to briefly withdraw the object for study. It appears that when rotated at the correct speed under an implement commonly used for recording and replaying music, strange sounds are replayed that cannot be replicated by equine mouths. This further supports the notion of alien life elsewhere.

Comprehension was dawning slowly on Twilight as she read the paragraph. It's... it's a record, she thought, the idea slowly coming to her as if she were struck dumb. And I would bet a thousand bits that it's one of Them who sent it! Oh, this is amazing! If they're anything like me, they're going to be getting ready to come down to Equestria right now!

Wait.

But how will I talk to them?

Twilight pondered this dilemma for many hours- she did not notice her exhaustion due to adrenaline, but the moon was already low in the sky and the first kind rays of Celestia's sun were poking their way through the treetops. Record... how can I learn their language... who do I know that could play a record back?

All of a sudden it hit her. That pony who DJ'd the wedding! Vinyl Scratch! Twilight almost teleported herself to Canterlot right then and there, but she caught a glance of the first rays of dawn from out the window and reflecting off of the light layer of snow and stopped herself.

Right, she thought, and looked at her clock. It's five in the morning.

There's the start to this story. Next chapter SHOULD be up inside of a week, but not gonna make any promises.

*Equestria uses a 20 hour clock as opposed to our 24, and does not reset at noon.

The Moon Bore Witness

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.

Friendship is Magic

Thanks to the fabulous InfinityXanadu, MisterMoniker, and Pon Katt! Thanks for making this readable!

Amelie grasped the frigid buckle of the seatbelt with her tender hands, recoiling slightly at their icy bite. She slid it down the belt of Kevlar, hearing the composite in the material rasp against the friction. She repeated the process three more times with other buckles, until she was tightly fastened into her seat. She looked to her left at Luka, who was also steadfastly secured into his own seat. He glanced back.

“I don’t know what i’m supposed to do, in all honesty. I know there’s an autopilot somewhere but-”

Suddenly Hleid’s voice crackled over the voice transmitter- evidently the hardware had broken down somewhat. “Ok, the good news is I recognize this craft. I know how to control it, and how I can turn autopilot on for you lot. Should be easy enough, and hopefully all will progress as planned.”

Before she could say any more, another voice- this one with not Hleid’s low nordic cadence, but the strange irregular rhythmus of Aldrich’s North Empire accent. “If i’m not mistaken, you said that was the good news, implying, of course, that there is bad news as well.”

There was a crackly sigh over the radio. “None of you deserve to be lied to, you’re not children, so here it is. Plain and simple, no sugarcoating. This model of reentry craft was always particularly unstable, though more comfortable than many others-” Amelie snorted in derision at that. Hleid either did not, or pretended not to, hear her. “-And that condition can’t have been helped by sitting in this hanger for upwards of ten thousand years, even though it was kept in a vacuum state with no contaminants. We may not survive landing unscathed.”

Michael’s old fashioned American voice crackled over the radio next. “Thanks for that inspiring tone of confidence,” he said sardonically. “Any other rousing words for us?”

“I wasn’t trying to be inspiring, i’m trying to let you know the dangers we face and save your neck,” Hleid snapped back irritably. “Anyways, the autopilot toggle is on the back of the control wheel. It’s a big red button. All of you, push it.

They heard an AUTOPILOT: ENGAGE through the static, this one presumably from Aldrich and Donna’s ship, seeing as Hleid could likely pilot her craft on her own. Over to Amelie’s right, Luka leaned over the wheel, groping on the back for buttons. He frowned, and slammed a fist against the back of the wheel seemingly at random. After three tries, an AUTOPILOT: ENGAGE blared out of a small speaker.

“Ok, I gave my ship the ‘Flagship’ callsign, so I can direct certain features of your ships remotely. There should be another button that brings up a radar screen. When you’re there you’ll see your ship in the center of the screen, and the other ships elsewhere on the radar. Sit back and let the autopilot do its job, and whatever you do, don’t touch anything.

“Yes, ma’am,” Luka called into the radio.

“All right. Let’s get going.” There was the sound of fiddling with buttons to be heard through the radio, and suddenly there was a jolt as the subspace displacement motors began to start, slowly accelerating into a deadly hum. There was a rushing noise even louder than the engines themselves as the air was evacuated back into tanks in the hanger, then a slow, steely grinding as the bay door opened, the thick glass receding into the ceiling. And now there was nothing shielding them from the anomalous depths of space, and nothing shielding the universe against the return of the humans.

Amelie clutched the seat belt tightly as the ship began to lurch forwards. She glanced left at Luka and found he seemed just as apprehensive as she, but also excited. Noticing that she was looking at him, Luka met her eyes. “It’ll be like having peace! I wonder if there will be trees there, I don’t believe i’ve ever even seen a tree!”

As soon as he finished the sentence, they jerked forwards, accelerating quickly and exiting the Nuclear Tears for the last time. They were not fond of the ship, but it had served them well and perhaps there would be some use for it yet. They found themselves soaring through the abyss as the seat clenched around certain parts of their bodies automatically, forcing the blood away from where it would otherwise be pushed to due to the incredible amount of g-force inherent in such an acceleration.

Even with the aid of the seat, the first through minutes were terrifying and painful to Amelie. The dull roar of the engine rattling through the ship was not helping her nerves, in fact, it was making her even more apprehensive. She could feel it shaking and it felt as if her organs were rattling against each other, fit to burst. And yet, after a while, after her body caught up with the acceleration of the craft, the ride was perfectly fine, if not pleasant. Hleid’s voice crackled one last time over the radio.

“We’ll be ready for entry in about eight hours. Sit tight.”

The fire gave off no heat, and yet it had a malevolent air about it, as if it would do more than burn Twilight if she were to touch it. For a while the two of them stared at each other, each trying to predict the other’s next move, though this time Twilight took extra care not to let herself be caught unawares by whatever fearful alluring enchantment there was on the changeling’s eyes. Suddenly, there was a clashing of silver against steel, and the changeling- just for the tiniest fraction of a second- broke eye contact. And then Twilight struck with all the fury of a falling star.

Forwards. Back. Spell, then shield her eyes from the explosion. Block. Ward. She kept a thin layer of energy around her at all times to stave off stray spells, strengthening it whenever she anticipated a direct hit. It looked as though she had a dark purple film covering every part of her body. All the while she was casting her own spells at the intruder; some looked like silver arrows that sped through the air, exuding a deathly hum. They created a small explosion on impact. Another created a ray of fire, and yet others had less militant and more odd and eccentric effects, such as Twilight’s newly perfected Polymorph spell, which would have transfigured the changeling into a pygmy goat but not for the fact that it missed.

So back and forth they dueled, in a state of both freezing cold and searing heat, casting and blocking spells all the while. Twilight felt her energy draining slowly, and one spell of the changeling’s even broke through her wards, though harmless after having to power through the magical blockade.

Suddenly, from beyond the wall of green flame, there was a long, drawn out cry, a gurgling lament that seemed to have all the suffering of the world crammed in it. And it was from a voice that Twilight did not recognize. Instantly the changeling banished the searing wall and ran, howling with grief in an insectile voice to a now-visible, seemingly male changeling who was oozing black blood. Shining Armor was standing next to it with a stunned expression on his face, wielding his silver steel which seemed to gleam with a malevolent light as the changeling’s dusky blood played across its edge.

Something savage reared its head in the dark recesses of Twilight Sparkle’s mind then, something sinister, ancient, and as dark as the depths of the abyss. Her horn glowed with magic again, but unlike almost all of the other spells she had ever cast, this did not create a purple aura but an black, atramentous one, and her eyes blazed green and purple streams like irradiated tears effervesced out of the corner of her eyes. A dusky black bolt shot into the fleeing changeling’s back, and she collapsed.

Then the screaming started.

Shining Armor had not been having a good day. First there had been the two changelings, which he had to dispatch medical crews to after cleaning up the changelings; they had attacked an old mare. Luckily, however, she was a former wonderbolt and thoroughly kicked the changelings’ tails after only allowing their one cowardly attack to connect. However, she was still ancient, and the scuffle took a lot out of her. Now this; it was as if higher powers were using him in their chessboard-game of good and evil. He hated it. Glaring at the two guards in front of him, he shouted, “Are you changelings or traitors? I don’t even know which is worse!”

As he glowered, their horns glew a sickly green light and the black chitin, their true forms were revealed. They each withdrew the golden ceremonial halberds that they had stolen from his comrades, every one of whom Shining Armor considered almost as close as brother or sister. A righteous fury engulfed him, greater than any he had ever felt before. In fact, if he was observed at that moment his face would not appear contorted with rage, but deathly calm, as if the true extent of his ire exceeded that which could be expressed by emotions.

For a while there was no movement, no sound, as the three warriors visualized the battle in their minds, trying to anticipate every possibility and devise a counter.

Suddenly the closer one leapt in one mighty leap the distance between them; it must have been at least three fathoms area betwixt and between them, but the changeling acted as if it were nothing. The second leapt as well shortly after. Shining Armor raised his shield high to ward the first of the two; the bulwark of the shield reverberated as the axe-blade fell. This changeling was caught off balance for a moment; he stood trying to regain his footing for a few fleeting moments, but before Shining Armor could retaliate against him the second blade fell.

He had quite forgotten about the other changeling. He was holding the halberd high, poised to strike with a triumphant look about his eye. The golden edge of the deadly axe gleamed dully and with a terrible beauty in the strengthening light of the moon. Shining Armor wondered if he was going to die.

Then survival instinct kicked in.

All thoughts of taking the changeling alive left him. His silver sword arced upwards and caught the shaft of the war-axe before it could end him, and the look in the changeling’s eyes changed from triumph to shock- and- could it be? Did changelings feel such emotions? Was it fear, there, that he saw in the other’s eyes?

He struck with the fury of a titan four times in one second, each blow piercing the armorous chitin surrounding the weak flesh of its body, going straight through it and coating his sword with black gore. The changeling was dead before it hit the ground. He turned around to face his next foe; his ire that had been tranquil exploded into a hurricane of pure wrath. From beyond the wall of flame that separated him from his sister he heard bangs and salvos of spells being cast, and he took heart- Twilight was still alive. At least for now. I have to finish this quickly. If she’s injured... I don’t know what i’ll do!

The changeling charged again, as angry as Shining Armor was. Maybe they knew each other, he thought. He suddenly remembered that he forgot to make sure he didn’t kill the changelings- he had already failed, but perhaps he could spare this one for questioning. But first priority? Survival.

Twice more Shining Armor blocked, ignoring perfectly good opportunities to strike an opening in the other being’s stance. The changeling seemed to understand what Shining Armor was doing; after the two he no longer worried about covering his flank and charged forwards, swinging his axe wildly. Shining Armor leapt backwards, and as the metal of the axe-blade struck the ground it threw up sparks and deformed. Oh, right! Gold is a soft metal! He grabbed his shield from where it lay on the ground- he had been parrying with his sword- and waited for the changeling so strike again.

This time he did not dodge, but instead took the blow directly, staggering slightly under its weight. Then he pushed upwards, knocking the changeling back and leaped forwards again, smashing the shield into its face while it was off balance. Then he made to strike it with the flat of his blade on the side of the head.

What happened next, whether guided by fate, or chance, or some unknown higher power, changed history. As it slashed through the air, whistling, something resisted. Despite Shining Armor’s best efforts, he could not prevent the sword from going blunt-edge facing towards the changeling to sharp.

The silver sword sailed through the cold zephyrs of the night sky and cut through the dry black husk and slit the changeling’s throat. It cried out for a moment, dark blood coursing out of its neck, gurgled as the blood flowed more freely, then toppled over, dead. There was a scream of mingled sadness and rage, as the magician-changeling ran towards the prone form. Then a black bolt collided with the back of her head, and the changeling fell, silent. Then the changeling began howling, a chilling sound that froze Shining Armor’s muscles and bones in sudden terror. He looked back at the source of the dark bolt once he regained control over his nerves, just in time to see the last telltale traces of black magic usage leave Twilight’s face as she swayed tiredly in the bitter wind.

Instantly he grew afraid- it was as he feared. After her encounter with King Sombra and his alluring black magic, he had been afraid that she would succumb to its inveiglement. He had been sending letters much more often, trying to warn her without possibly bringing the subject to mind, but he had failed, and now his beloved sister would pay the price.

“Twily!” He rushed forwards, catching her just as she collapsed, unconscious, into his grip.

“We’re almost there. Brace yourself.” Hleid’s voice could be heard over the intercom, as some small beep was made by a machine.

Donna was completely out of her depth, so she did the best she could to follow the advice of the pilot and bulwark herself with the little she had to work with- the inner walls of this craft, just like the Nuclear Tears, were sleek and offered no grip. Over the past hours the glowing green and blue orb had grown in front of them and boundaries on it became more distinct. The large patches of green and blue on its surface became more defined, resolving themselves into continents, seas, islands! It was beautiful and alien and utterly unique in the universe. It had been ever since Earth began cannibalizing itself, a process which begun more than a thousand years before it officially died.

There were great white patches of snow on the northern and southern hemispheres, and it appeared to rotate about its axes just as Earth had. It had a blue halo around the edges, much like Earth but more pronounced.They appeared to be aiming at a relatively far-north part of the world, to a green and white patch on one of the continents. There were a few bumps now, the first since they had left the ship’s bay.

“Get ready!”

“Oh dear.” Aldrich, who was sharing the pod with her said conversationally. “I know a bit about reentry, and we’re going at fifteen kilometers per second, so the outside of this ship will be subjected to about...fourteen-thousand, seven hundred and twenty-seven degrees celsius, if my math is correct.”

“Shut up, Aldrich!”

“Why? Have I offended you?

“No, but that isn’t helping my nerves!”

“Sorry about that.” Donna glared at him for a moment longer, then stopped, sighing. It didn’t matter, her nerves would not change the outcome of their re-entry.

“Here’s where it could get tricky... I think we just passed this planet’s Kármán line, we’re encountering more turbulence here... six minutes or so to go, give or take.

At that moment there was the largest bump yet, and it felt to Donna as if her organs were rattling around inside her skin.

“Um... we have a problem. We’re encountering less interference from the atmosphere than expected. Probably less greenhouse gases than Earth. No matter, I can just change our ang-”

There was a flashing, intense red light from a panel in the ceiling that Donna had not even noticed before. A klaxon buzzed directly next to her, so ardent that she felt physical pain from the noise and had to clap her hands over her ears and put her head in her lap. Apparently Aldrich was not as bothered by the noise as she, for he attempted to grab the wheel and pilot his craft manually, but the wheel was locked.

“I think the navigational computers just failed! I’m not familiar enough with this sort of craft to fix it but-”

“What’s happening?! Are we going to die?!” Amelie screamed in abject, animal terror over the voice transmitter.

“It’s- it’s going to be all right. Just you see...” Luka seemed to be trying to reassure her; Donna could imagine him patting her on the back, caressing her, trying to console her. It was useless.

“I can fix this! Just hold on! I’ll- fix- this mess- I started!” Hleid shouted, but the G-forces from the speed were picking up again, and she could barely speak. Michael was silent.

Aldrich’s mind raced. Would they all burn in the atmosphere, or break like irreplaceable and invaluable antiques smashed with a hammer? Would the passing of the humans, dominators of planets, be thwarted by the will of a yet unspoilt world?

He realized then, it was not just the passing of humans that depressed him. The five other men and women had become his friends in the short time he had known them. He had never really had friends before; at school others made fun of him for his intelligence and desire to increase it. And yet over the course of what may as well have been days but was in fact untold ages of men, he had come to regard them as his true companions. Thoughts that did not feel his own flew through his mind.

Was it simply because of their shared fate, or was it more? Was it true friendship that he was feeling? Friendship for the security guard, who had to take the life of another when he was still a young man? Friendship for the diplomat who felt the death of her family was her fault? For the physicist who was always just second-rate? What about for the schoolteacher, driven to help others because of the death of a family member? Even for the pilot who had felt she must grow out of her ‘childish’ idealist ways? Even as he thought memories that were not his seemed to be siphoned out of his companions into his conscience, and he felt he understood them better now, empathized with them.

Yes, a small voice inside him answered. They are my friends, and I would do anything to protect them! As this final thought entered and passed from his mind, he looked down at his hands and gasped. Was it an illusion brought on by imminent death, or were his hands glowing that eerie blue color of the spaceship? Next to him Donna slumped in apparent peaceful sleep, not unconsciousness. His entire craft was now glowing this color- instantly, he felt it decelerate and he and Donna both would have sped into the bulkhead of the small craft if not for their seatbelts, and he hoped- no, he willed that Hleid and Luka’s ships would also slowed down. The ground was rushing up to meet them; even after their deceleration it could still be a dangerous impact.

And suddenly an unearthly exhaustion came over him; the blue corona faded from his body and everything went very black.

Author's Note

I thank once more the fabulous pre-readers that take on the ungodly duty of making sure you aren't reading the crap I write if its unedited. Unfortunately, exalted Pon Katt was not able to edit this. I assume that the same ones mentioned in the last chapter were able to read it! I hope you enjoyed!

Also, if you aren't completely mental, you will have noticed that I borrowed the title of the very show you are on this site because of. This was most regrettable. However, no other title adequately displayed what the chapter was about, so it was this that I chose.

Mind over Matter

Thanks to the fabulous MisterMoniker, and Pon Katt! Thanks for making this readable! And many fond farewells to InfinityXanadu, who has been a support for me since the story was first published. Farewell.

It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped. Each time a man or woman stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, they send forth a tiny ripple of hope.
— Robert Francis Kennedy

It was as if the entirety of Canterlot was enveloped in an unearthly, sinister black fog that no breeze could clean. Somewhere, somepony screamed. Not only was it stagnant itself, but it seemed to freeze other things it came into contact with. The horrible haze swam in front of Twilight’s eyes. She felt incredibly tired, stiff, painful. It felt as if her memories of the recent past were being devoured.

Suddenly a horribly familiar face appeared there in the mist; dark grey, a grin slashing through his face like some dark crevasse in the grinding northern ice. The horn must have once been grey like the rest of him, but now the end glowed like hot metal; the horn was wicked and curved like a scimitar, and exuded malice even without casting a spell. The horrible eyes stared approvingly at her, his grin widening and he growled.

Excellent magic, Miss Twilight Sparkle. Why, you may even be a sorcerer of my power some day, the voice half-growled. Then, as soon as Sombra’s face had come came it disappeared, to be replaced by the frantic voice of her brother, calling her name...

”Twilight! Can you hear me? Twilight! Don’t leave me! Wake up!" The words were strangely distorted, as if she were hearing them from down a long, echoing tunnel, even though some other sense not normally noticed was telling her that her brother was so very close. Slowly at first, the fog began to swirl, then faster; finally, in a glow of pink light the last dregs of the clinging fog were banished into nothingness, and Twilight woke with a gasp. That should have been her first warning that the world was wrong, but even as she tried to grab at the fleeting memory, knowing that it must be important, it slipped through her grasp and vanished from her mind.

She was shaking all over; not entirely because of the chill but also the dark sensation of Black Magic use chilling her deeper than any wind could.

Shining Armor nuzzled her neck. “Thank Celestia, you’re ok. I was afraid that i’d lost- no, I don’t want to think about that. You’re safe, and that’s all that matters. Can you walk?”

Unsure herself, she experimentally tried placing weight on her hooves and found that, notwithstanding the first few staggering test steps, that she was fine. “I think so. Should we take this changeling,” she spat out the last word, “to be questioned?”

“We should. There’s something going on here behind the surface, and something tells me it’s going to be a long time until we see the end of it.”

The entire world was engulfed in flame.

Or so it seemed to Aldrich Alatar Cynric as he was dragged back to the waking world. He raised his head from the adamantine surface of the landing pod. He was groggy; the smoke stung his eyes and it felt like every bone in his body was broken. He was about to resign himself to the void and lay his head back on the ground, defeated, when the fetor of burning hair wafted through the brilliant crimson of the holocaust devouring everything around him.

My friends need me. Tapping into some unknown reserve of titanic might, he raised himself off the ground, and knocked open the thick metal door as if were insubstantial. It flew off of its hinges with a strange, coruscating blast of blue splendour rather than swing on its joints; it had evidently been deadlocked. He ran through the door as quickly as his legs would carry him, and found a limp body lying in front of the pod. Donna’s seat-belt had somehow broken, and the thick glass of the pod’s window had splintered into a billion shards of light. She was just beyond the hole where the aperture had been; it must have decelerated her to keep her from crashing into the tree beyond and breaking her neck without cutting her.

The tree beyond.

He was in a alien forest, and he was breathing alien air. He almost stopped and gasped for breath when he first realized this, imagining, perhaps, that the air that he had thought he was breathing was imaginary and that he was about to suffocate. And yet, here he was. The sheer impossibility of being able to breathe was staggering. Moreover, many scientists believed that when humans did find life it would likely be so different to them as to be unrecognizable. And yet, here, trees! And, after looking up into their lofty boughs, a birds nest whose eggs seemed to have been knocked out of the branches by the energy of the crash.

He picked Donna up, as easily as if she were a ragdoll, and hefted her away from the wreckage. Once they were clear of the smoke, his eyes smarting from the haze, he could see the two other ships, neither of which seemed quite as well-off as Donna and himself, who had sustained only minor injuries despite what should have been a landing at nearly the speed of sound.

He came next to Luka and Amelie’s pod; it seemed like Luka had thrown his arm in front of her to protect her, and she seemed to be perfectly well, although she might have broken bones. Luka had a cracked forehead; his blond hair was tattered and filthy with blood. However, their craft seemed to have been untouched by fire. He left them where they were; they were safe enough for the time being. He raked the small forest clearing they were in for sign of the third pod.

His heart sank. Most of the smoke in the little dell was coming from the third pod, the one that was occupied by Michael and Hleid. Aldrich guessed that Hleid had attempted to trigger the safety precautions for his and Luka’s pods before bothering with her own. Perhaps that had been what saved them, but he could still not offer any explanation for the strange blue light.

It perplexed him.

The crash of Hleid’s pod had uprooted trees in the area; one had fallen and blocked the access hatch. It was too heavy even for someone of Luka’s strength to lift, let alone the rather physically weak astronomer that he was. He was beginning to panic, for he was certain that they would both die within seconds if he did not intercede. He remembered the light. It was the only thing that could help him now, even loathe though he was to tamper with forces that he had no knowledge of. He concentrated as well as he could, trying to expel emotion and think with pure force of will, and exerted all of his willpower upon manifesting that anomalous blue aura.

He closed his eyes, and instead of the usual black nothingness it was as if all the splendor of the sun had been trapped behind his eyelids. He cried out in pain as his eyes burned, and he was sure that they were withering. The pain receded quickly but the light stayed, and he looked at the world as if through a veil of azure. He could see the log that blocked his path, attempting to bar the way to his friends who even now were burning. It was glowing more brightly than the rest of his field of vision, for it was the object of his focus. He made a fist in his right hand, and flung his arm away from his body, and the log followed the motion of his fist and soared through the trees. It landed with a crash somewhere out of his field of vision.

Either the door had already been unhinged, or if his strange newfound power had facilitated its movement he did not know, but there were no further obstacles. He grabbed Hleid and Michael and they felt almost insubstantial to him, and the burning pain in his eyes briefly spiked and the blue grew brighter. He walked out of the flame not feeling it, and as he stepped it felt as though he was standing on someone else’s feet. It was absolutely unreal.

He carried the two to the small stream; it was not frozen but icy cold. It seemed like honest water, even on another planet: Aldrich decided that he would have to look into the strange similarities between this world and Earth. For the first time he looked down on his two charges.

The red was in harsh contrast to the rest of his sight. Unlike all else that he could survey, the blood was not tinted blue but seemed more red than normal with the contrast. He trembled in fear for their fates. Was I too slow? Did I fail? Are my friends- no. I can’t even think that; my thoughts have gained too much power to allow that thought into my mind. “Wake up, Michael! Come on, Hleid, be strong for me! Don’t leave me!”

He grasped both, one in each arm. He began to weep, sitting there on the ground. All hope had departed him, for the blue light was gone and he was beyond the limit of exhaustion. He doubted he could move his legs. I should note that, he thought blearily, if I survive I have to remember that the magic doesn’t use free energy, it’s my life force I drain. But at that moment the prospect of survival was nonexistent. The six of them would perish, eventually: He, Hleid and Michael would die here and now, and time would be hard on Luka, for he was old. Then there would only be the two relatively weak women left in an unknown land with no defense. All humans would die here, and that would be finality. That would be the end. Game over.

He could not abide that possibility.

He drew upon some unknown strength at the sight of his friends; for now, they were alive, and he intended to make that permanent. He could feel the blood run through his fingers as Hleid and Michael’s blood returned to their body, and the burns healed and they suddenly felt many days old. He washed their bodies in the tributary stream until the last of the blood was cleansed, then he warmed them with the flames of his magic. Those two he placed in Luka and Amelie’s relatively undamaged pod, as it would offer more protection from the elements than the one he had ridden in with Donna. Then, the other three; Luka, Amelie and Donna he placed in his pod and leaned the door whose hinges he had broken against its portal. He scrawled a message for them on the ground in the dirt- for indeed it was dirt- that read:

You five, wait here. There might still be supplies in the pods still, they shouldn’t have been ruined. I’m going for help; I know there’s sentient life here after my incident with the telescope. Stay where you are. I have a lot to tell you.

Sincerely Yours,

Aldrich

He walked off into the forest, deciding to follow the dell downstream as a water-source and a way to find his path back, if need be. He padded off, and as he walked the trees grew more gnarled and time-ravaged, as if they no longer cared for grooming themselves. That night it rained, and his note was washed forever into oblivion.

And that night, in the heart of the forest, foul things awake.

It was a shame that these floors are going to be stained black by blood, Twilight Sparkle thought as she dragged the changeling over the slightly less than smooth surfaces of the floor of the Palace Barracks. Rather than the gleaming marble floor of the main hallways in the castle, where you would be hard pressed to find a visible seam in the rock, it was rough limestone that had been pitted by thousands of tramping hooves until it could cut anypony foolish enough to lie down on it.

Already there was a small slick where the changeling had received a gash, and the dragging over rough rock was opening it wider. It was just a flesh wound, so Twilight did not bother healing it. No permanent harm would be done.

The Barracks, despite their rough and rather uncomfortable floor was a nice part of the castle to be in, once you got used to the shocking difference between its plainness and the opulence elsewhere in the castle. The walls and floor were a pleasant, light dusty brown, and there were fires burning in hearths that littered the hallways, filling the whole complex with blue pine-smoke and adding to it a friendly atmosphere, like that of the local neighborhood tavern.

There were doors at regular intervals along the hall, concealing the the vast armories of the seldom-used weapons of the Guard, most rusted and ancient beyond belief, or dormitories with off-duty guards taking well-deserved rests. Occasionally Twilight would look back, and saw that her brother was biting his lips as if there was some query he was contemplating, alone, and not sure if he should consult his sister over it.

“Twily, would you mind if I asked you a question?”

“You just did.”

He sighed in exasperation, but she did not need to look back at him where he was holding the changeling’s back hooves to know that despite the situation, a smile was playing around his face at their old childhood jest.

“That wasn’t the question.”

“I know, BBBFF. What is it?”

“I think you know.”

She stopped, and the changelings forehooves banged into her as the forward momentum still carried in the inert body propelled it into her. She winced slightly, and sighed. She should have known he would ask, and now she had to find an answer.

“Why did I use the Black Spell?” She paused, searching herself for answers. And as she journeyed into the deeps of her conscience, she found a sleeping beast.

It roared.

“Because it’s a changeling! Every single one of them deserves what this one got, and worse! If I hadn’t fainted I would ha-” she stopped, and her head swam. She nearly fainted again, and her vision was obscured for a second by a flash of blinding green. She leaned against the nearest wall, watching her brother’s face. His brows were furrowed into a deep crevasse.

“Be careful, Twily. That stuff can consume you if you don’t make sure not to use it. You won’t even know it until too late.”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I just got so... angry, when I remembered that because of one of them you all nearly- well, left me.” She was not sure if that was true or not, but she wanted to say something, anything, to justify her anger, to make sure her brother was not disappointed in her for her outburst.

“Don’t worry about it,” Shining Armor said easily; he briefly released the still-unconscious changeling to hug her. “You go on and meet the Princess. I’m close enough to the Cells from here to handle it myself. Don’t tell Celestia about this, i’ll talk to her in person. I’ll send up additional guards as soon as I can wake them up, so it may be a while. G’night, Twily.”

“Thanks, Shining Armor. I’m here on a matter of some urgency, actually, so if you could do that alone easily i’d be grateful for you letting me go all the faster.”

“Go. I’ll be fine. And Twily?” He said, as she began to turn away. “Remember that no matter what path you go down after you leave here tonight, that I will always be proud of you.”

“I love you too, BBBFF. Good- goodbye, then I suppose,” she said, faltering, and as she walked away something warm and salty rolled down her face and dripped off the tip of her muzzle.

I hope I choose the path to better deserve his pride.

He was staggering through the dark forest alone. Aldrich had lit up a fallen branch with his ‘magic’, for that was what he was going to call it until he could categorize it into some branch of science unknown to humans. The brand was tall- probably almost his height- and used it to light up the shadows that were closing in under the grim canopy of trees. Their only advantage was that they kept the rain off for the most part. He was loathe to set the flame with the tiny amount of strength he had left, but the surrounding world was entirely invisible without any light. At least he was going downhill, so he didn’t have the added physical stress from climbing upwards.

Occasionally there would be a break overhead in the leaves, permitting single rays of silver moonlight to break through, but other than that the only things that told him he was making any progress at all was that the stream was widening. Just ahead of his current position a tributary joined it, widening the dell almost into a river.

He had been wary of predators before, but the forest was strangely empty of animals, unlike the trees full of birds near the crash site. Aldrich hoped that it meant only that the critters had run away from him, a strange creature to them, and not from some larger beast, silently stalking him as he made his way alongside the run, close enough to touch him...

He shook the eerie thoughts off of him and turned to pondering more important matters. Like food, and whether or not he should find a settlement of the sapient beings. He did not bother about wondering if the creatures were hostile; why bother? There was nothing he could do if they attacked him, and there was always the chance that they were friendly.

Who am I now? Am I the same person who left Earth with five others, the last of our kind? And if I am not, what then? That only raises more questions. Am I ascending or degenerating? How can I use this magic? What’s happening to me?

His use of magic intrigued him most, for while he feared that something terrible was happening to him before his eyes, he had also dreamed of magic since he was very young. Never had he imagined but in dreams that those hopes would ever be fulfilled, and certainly not in this manner. Certainly not in an environment where the price for his powers was the placing of five of the six friends he had ever had into danger.

He passed the joining of the streams and walked on, still deep in thought. As he walked on, the land began to flatten; the river became slower but wider still, and yet another tributary joined into it. He stopped and sat on the ground facing the water, cupped his hands and took a long draught from the watercourse, and sighed with relief as he relaxed against the ground. The flight suit would keep him warm enough during the night, and his friends would not thank him for dying from exhaustion...

He was warm and tired- exhausted, even- but some sixth sense warned him against sleep. But then, against his better judgement, he fell into a deep slumber where he sat.

Outside the grand double doors of her mentor’s bedchamber, flanked by two royal guards, Twilight Sparkle waited hesitantly to knock. She had never liked disturbing her teacher this late at night. As childish as it might seem, she also disliked wandering the Palace at night ever since Luna’s return because her handpicked Night-Watch that stalked the marble halls absolutely invisible to both friends and possible intruders. Celestia was always exhausted after using a phenomenal amount of magical energy to raise and lower the sun, though she would never show it to anypony else, and the process of the royal court tired her unduly. She hated most of the nobles, for they were almost all stuck-up snobs who had no idea how to handle their vast riches, let alone an empire.

But, as rude as she thought it must sound of her to think it, the matter at hand was more important than any single pony, even a goddess. She knocked, and winced as the sound resonated through what seemed to her must be the entire castle. She waited for a few seconds, until a quiet voice from inside said, “Come in.”

Twilight gently pushed on the doors, and they swung open silently and effortlessly. Celestia’s room was lit by six candles, strategically placed to set the entire room aglow with a dim, but warm, orange light. She pushed the doors closed with a back hoof, intent on her mentor’s face. If Twilight had not known better she would have said that the Princess had not slept at all. Her mane was just as it always was during waking hours, and stirred as if some nonexistent breeze flowed through it. There were no bags under her eyes, no weary invisible burden of exhaustion upon her back. The only thing that betrayed her fatigue was her voice.

“Welcome. What are you doing up so late, and so far from home?”

“I’d like to borrow something on display in the archives. For... an experiment, it could be called. Could you write up a seal of approval for me, to let the archivist know I have your permission?”

Celestia frowned. “Of course, I trust your judgement. But what is it that you are looking for?”

“A golden record.”

Vinyl Scratch grumbled in the cold of the night. Even with little breeze, it was freezing in the square. Not even her best trenchcoat- of which she had several- could keep the chill out. She had considered lighting a fire, but the police might think she was an arsonist again. Two policeponies, a huge grey colt and a red-haired mare who were particularly talented with nightsticks and beating the crap out of lawbreakers, and, most likely, anypony else who annoyed them. No, she did not want to cross them again.

She looked down at her watch. She’s almost an entire hour late. If she isn’t here in the next five minutes, i’m leaving. She probably has a private squad of ninjas, she’ll be able to find me.

Almost as if on queue, the sounding of the city-hall bell ringing in the hour was drowned out by an even louder CRACK! and an explosion of raw arcane energy that could have raised the dead. Through a small cloud of dust Twilight Sparkle stepped, striking a strangely heroic pose.

“DON’TKILLME-Oh, it’s you. Hello. I have a record player for you,” She motioned at the ground where the device sat, “Please don’t break it. What record are you trying to play, anyw-”

“Sorry,” Twilight interrupted. I’m really in a hurry. I might be late for the 1:08 Friendship Express to Ponyville. Thanks a million for your help, as soon as I’m done with my... experiment i’ll give it back to you as soon as possible. Farewell, Vinyl Scratch. Thanks for DJ-ing my brother’s wedding, by the way. Until we meet again!

“It was no problem...” Vinyl started, but trailed off as she realized the other unicorn, having levitated the record-player and beginning to gallop away, was not listening.

Aldrich was not a light sleeper. So when someone’s hot breath woke him from his rather pleasant dream of being alone in a golden-green meadow as the sun was setting made him more unhappy than normal at being woken. He cursed, quite loudly and creatively, and lashed outwards at the source of the smelly breath.

In retrospect, that was a terrible idea.

Author's Note

If you are as hardcore of a LotR fan as me, you should point out the reference I had in the chapter.
Simple knowledge of the book will NOT suffice; you must have read that, and Unfinished Tales, AND the Silmarillion, et cetera, to have a hope of getting it.
And even so, you may not.

Also, sorry for taking so long. School started to mess me up.

To Teach, if We Are Called Upon;

If there had been anypony else on the Friendship Express, then Twilight would have been too embarrassed to repeat the one, still-functional part of the record. As it was, she had the entire cart, perhaps even the whole train to herself. There was no reason for ordinary ponies to commute to an already remote area in the darkest hours of night. As it was, the strange, alien voice with a strange cadence to it and syllables difficult for her to pronounce repeated forever, until the tape cut off and she had to set the record back.

She guessed that a combination of age under a dusty display case and impact at tremendous velocity from the Beyond had taken a heavy toll on the ductile metal. But she could not translate the language, not without a living specimen. The record would only act as a reagent- an anchor- for the spell. But it could not satisfy all the needs of the translation spell. It required a living, breathing creature as well as a recording of the voice; preferably more than one.

Living speakers use somatics that can be translated with magic into intent, and if the intent of a word is known, it can be translated. Once a bridge was established, allowing basic communication, the spell would create a field around all speakers of the language and the spell would teach itself over time. It had been invented by a wise stallion thousands of years ago, before the Hearthswarming, in order to communicate between unicorns and other races, before their language merged wholly due to the spell. She hoped it would work on non-equines, but she realized that took a lot of faith even to hope...

The train began to slow then, first only noticeable by the incredibly perceptive (such as Twilight) as a slight swaying, forwards and back, of the brake, before it began to grind to a halt just at the Ponyville station. She stepped out with the record and player levitated at her side and made a quick stop by the Library to make sure Spike was asleep, leaving another note explaining her prolonged absence (omitting any details about her trip to Canterlot that might frighten him unduly, such as, well, most of it) and grab a cloak to wrap around herself on the frozen night.

She would have liked to wake at least one of her friends, but it would not be fair to them to disrupt their rest at such an hour. Dawn was only a few hours away now, but the Everfree Forest was as black as fear before her as she stood. She intended to explore it first due to a few frightened reports of a thunderous noise there in the middle of the night from the few ponies wandering the streets at that time. Zecora was always friendly to her, and would likely allow her to stay a few nights in her home while she investigated.

She, mastering her sense of foreboding of the dark, took those first steps fearfully, but grew more confident in her stride until she strode boldly into the encroaching darkness with light in her heart.

Thus she walked, pondering the being she had seen with her telescope, and hoping it was of the same race as those who sent the record. It made her feel... very small,, that another race, separated by the wastes of space and time, would send knowledge of their existence elsewhere, perhaps simply so that there might be one to remember them after they faded into shadow. How ancient they must be, how splendorous and mighty in the height of their power!

Wait... do I smell smoke?

So far the only indigenous species Aldrich had met were birds or trees, perfectly harmless to him. Class was now in session, and he was learning not everything on this world was cute and fuzzy.

The creature looked like some unholy union between a bat, a scorpion, and a lion. It had brown fur and a red ‘mane’, paws almost the size of his head, bat wings that looked like they shouldn’t be able to support the massive creature’s weight, and a scorpion tail with a stinger that was probably poisoned.

He had just punched it in its maw hard enough to break a tooth. As he stared it down, glaring into its furious eyes, he decided that it was not his fault he wasn’t a morning person.

Happens every time. I get woken up too soon my some great, big slobbering behemoth with a yen for grilled human for breakfast.

The monster pounced, swiping a clawed paw. He ducked and ran under its airborn body before it crushed him with its weight. He sprayed a font of sparks into its fur, hoping to make it simply fear him enough to leave him alone.

He was making all sorts of bad choices today.

The monster ignited like an oil lantern, first its fur catching, and then the rest, and it became so enraged and irrational that it did not jump in the river to quench the flame, but charged straight at Aldrich, it’s form too low to duck beneath, too broad to sidestep, and to high to jump.

He felt for his ‘magic’ to blast it away with pure force, but as he stretched out his arms towards the creature to channel the spell, a few drops of glowing blue something dribbled off of his fingers towards the brute as if drawn by gravity. It did not even seem to notice. Before he could react to this new development, the barbed scorpion tail whipped over its head and stung him in the forearm. He almost did not feel it, so concerned he was with its impending crushing charge.

Just as Aldrich abandoned all hope, he saw that the creature was distracted. Putting curiosity before reason he followed its glance to the river. It had coiled up like a serpent preparing to strike, and surrounded with a purple aura that reminded him of his own newfound power. The ‘head’ whirled around, and he followed its movement, losing track of its ‘tail’ end for just a few moments.

Before he could see any more, there was a strike like a freezing, wet whip and everything faded to black.

When first Aldrich awoke, the only thing he was conscious of was that he was moving, or being moved, by something else. Whatever it was, it was warm and gentle in touch, but he had not yet regained sight after his blackout. Thus, he could only assume that one of the locals had found him. The fact that he was not already dead did wonders for his confidence in humanity’s future.

The creature had some sort of bone or exoskeleton, he could not tell which, that was digging into him. If it was the same kind of creature as what he had seen through the telescope, he would assume it was the equivalent of a spine, and he was being borne upon its back. Whatever it was, it did not seem to notice he was awake. He stirred slightly, and whatever was carrying him instantly started. There was a THUMP as something quite heavy fell to the forest floor, and Aldrich was rolled off whatever was carrying him.

He fell to the cold ground somewhat uncomfortably, and found that he could not move his arms or legs, and what he thought was just an aftereffect of his blackout he learned was being trussed up. His confidence in humanity’s first contact lessened somewhat from its recent peak.

The creature squeaked in its language as he hit the ground. Apparently it had forgotten the language barrier, perhaps meaning to apologize in its language, because it immediately smacked itself on the forehead and muttered to itself, annoyed. It put a hoof? - The only word for the appendage was hoof- on his chest as if to calm him, and pointed to a spot to the right of his stomach, and he followed its motion and looked down at himself.

He almost fainted again at the sight of his own blood. The adrenaline coursing through him had made him unaware of the pain, but he could ignore it no longer once he saw the injury. There was a deep puncture in his chest that despite not possibly being an old injury already looked as though it were festering. The only explanation he could find was that he had been stung with the beast’s scorpid-like tail and there was some nasty venom in the barbed stinger. He was not particularly happy about this development.

Really, I’m brushing with death so many times I should start shaking his hand as I pass him, Aldrich joked somewhat morbidly, perhaps to take his mind off the wound. But it was much more likely this indigenous creature would know an antidote than he.

The ‘pony’, for indeed it looked like a small, deformed horse, was fooling around with some strips of red stuff binding his wrists that Aldrich suddenly realized was from the sleeves of his jumpsuit. It was purple, with a ‘mane’ of a deeper purple and a stripe of pink running through it. On its flank there was a design like a six-point star that possibly represented a clan mark, but Aldrich was taking shots in the dark. He hadn’t taken Xenobiology 101. However, there was something odd about this creature. He felt as if there was something in its violet eyes beyond the surface that he recognized; empathized with, no matter their differences.

It must have bound him with strips ripped off of his flight jumpsuit, because it was attempting to staunch the flow of blood, but a curious thing happened then. The instant the creature touched his blood with its hooves, it jolted backward and frantically stamped the part of its skin, or fur, or exoskeleton, or whatever it would be called, on the ground as if trying to drown liquid fire. It held its hoof close to its chest, and he saw that some of the creature’s flesh was burnt. Aldrich mustered his strength to lean up and bind the creature’s burn with the strip of red substance.

The creature seemed to realize there was more in this gesture than the surface. It gazed straight into his eyes, and at that instant something clicked in his head.

You!

He fumbled around his suit as it- as she, rather- watched, bemused. He found the pocket he was looking for and withdrew the little collapsible telescope. The instant light caught the brass of the telescope and the creature saw it she instantly seemed to snap to the same conclusion that Aldrich came to. She jumped, first pointing at the telescope then up to the dappled canopy of sky above. He nodded, and she began to chatter in her native language excitedly. This continued for a few seconds before she came back to the present, and the reality of the danger to his life. She sobered instantly, and with a glow of purple from her horn unbound the section binding his legs, and elongated it with another spark of magic.

He recognized the colorful glow as the same power he had recently come into possession of. Perhaps she could help him understand magic, in the unlikely event they ever passed the language barrier? She bound his wound as well as she could with the rubbery material, and sealed the two ends together behind his back again. She motioned for him to stand, and he did his best to stumble up. She began to walk and he followed without question; if she was trying to help staunch the bleeding then her intentions were to keep him alive, for whatever purpose, friendly or fell.

She allowed him to use her as support, because Aldrich was falling quite often and at the very tips of his extremities he was beginning to feel numb, which chilled his blood. He had always heard that venom started working farthest away from the heart.

He hobbled on, guided by the presence of the creature. He could feel himself going cold, and had the illusion that he was just a dead man walking, unaware of his fate. He might not have been able to keep going if not for the thought of his friends, their devastated faces before death reaped them, as well. He would have welcomed death if not for them. To sleep was all he had ever wanted, and did not understand why he had enjoyed his waking hours.

It was as if his soul had already left his body, and he was being pulled along by invisible strings. Walking ceased being excruciating. All feeling numbed. He saw himself as if through a stranger’s eyes, barely dragging himself along the ground.

He must have blacked out at some point, because when he woke up he found himself elsewhere.

“Are you sure you don’t mind, Zecora? This is an awful lot to ask of you. If he’s dangerous, you’re in harm’s way.”

Twilight tucked a misfitting blanket over the strange biped- she decided to call him the Outsider for now, until she cast the translating spell and learned its proper name. It was sleeping, if not peacefully- it was thrashing about, muttering and calling out, as if it were having a nightmare. Did Outsiders have nightmares? She would find out.

“Ah, Twilight, can’t you see? This creature means no harm to earth or Pony. I would turn no living thing away, not even in the end of days.”

Zecora left the room to prepare tinctures of various sorts, leaving Twilight alone with the creature. She estimated it had roughly even mass to her, being about twice as tall and half as long as she was. It had a rather wiry build, and she winced when she imagined how difficult it could be to get out of its grip if it grappled her with its forelegs. It had upper hindlegs that looked like it could carry it at a jog for a day, given proper conditioning.

It was just as she made these observations that the creature stirred. Twilight quickly looked away, as if she had been caught in some indecent act. It mumbled something in its tongue, and as soon as he could move felt his wound. When he saw the bandages, he relaxed, and looked up. It did not seem remotely surprised at her presence, and looked directly at her. There was something in particular about it’s eyes. She had seen it before- ponies who had lost dear friends, parents, or even extremely valued mementos of lost times. They all had the same dull pain about them, even if they tried to mask it. The eyes are the windows to the soul, it was said, and perhaps that had truth behind it. But in this creature, this Outsider’s eyes, the pain was greatly magnified. It had seen things that no living thing should have to see.

At this point it tried to lift itself out of the bed. Twilight rushed to calm it, saying (without realizing it could not comprehend) that it would reopen its wounds. It complied, but looked agitated.

For several minutes, there was silence. The whole world was holding its breath, it seemed, waiting for something, anything to happen. Twilight was to move, trotting as quietly as she could for fear of breaking the silence, to where the record player had been set down. She slowly lifted the heavy machine with her magic. The Outsider watched, captivated, as the purple glow enveloped the record player and it began to levitate. With her magic, Twilight turned on the record player and it began to spin.

“...of the planet Earth, I send greetings on behalf of the people of our planet. We step out of our solar system into the universe, seeking only peace and friendship; to teach, if we are called upon: to be taught, if we are fortunate. We know full well that our planet and all its inhabitants are but a small part of the universe that surrounds us, and it is with humility and hope that we take this st-” The record cut off there, and she turned off the manabattery powering the player.

Twilight’s magic was now going beyond just holding the device aloft. It was spreading outwards through the small cottage, and filling it with light the color of the last rays of the dying sun. Brightest of all was the Outsider, glowing in a blinding azure so blazingly powerful Twilight had to avert her eyes from the magic. Then there was a brilliant flash; the record player fell to the ground, dented- the light ceased to be, and all the magic vanished in an instant.

The Outsider, once he checked that no new wounds had opened, looked at her with what was perhaps dawning comprehension, or maybe... fear?

Twilight slumped against the wall. Oof. The spellbook neglected to mention this was supposed to be performed with more than one unicorn, I feel like every last drop of magic in me is gone.

The Outsider rose stiffly from its bed, gasping. Why was it looking as tired as she was? Surely it couldn’t also have been fueling the spell?

The creature opened its mouth. For the first time ever, humanity was to interact with another living, sentient species, and it said:

“Pl-please... save my- save my friends...”