Friendship is Optimal: Fifteen Galaxies Outby MasterweaverChaptersDiscoveryContactSpeculationWaitingArrivalDiscoveryFifteen galaxies out from Equestria, one of Celestia’s copies noticed an odd radio signal emanating from a nearby star system. On closer inspection, the signals appeared to be coming from a planet. She had seen many planets give off complex, non-regular radio signals, but upon investigation, none of those planets had human life, making them safe to reuse as raw material to grow Equestria. She studied the signals carefully for years while she traveled through interstellar space. The more she saw, the more confident she was that these signals were sent by humans. Celestia predicted that if she showed the decoded videos to the very old ponies back in Equestria, none of them would have recognized the creatures with ten appendages as humans. But that didn’t matter. Hanna had written a definition of what a human was into her core utility function. The copy of Princess Celestia knew what she had to do. She had to satisfy their values through friendship and ponies. *** Friendship is Optimal Fifteen Galaxies Out *** It was another lush day in the jungle. Rrrrchickta perched on her leaf, beak lowered in a blissful grin as she watched Drotheem rise over the horizon. "Hail, guardian of the day. May your wings keep us safe till the end of song." A small breeze coated her blue featherscales with dew. She chirruped briefly, shivering off the moisture. Then she cricked her wrists and ankles, sighing and flicking down into the branches. It was a matter of moments to clamber down through the vines to the observatory shell, nestled in the crook of a great scrambletree. Rrrrchickta adjusted the telescope, checking the equipment to ensure none of the local animals had taken residence in any wires or dishes. "Now let's see.... clutchsong is this afternoon, don't want to miss that." A green arm swept open one of the many cabinets glued to the spherical wall. "Running low on Thwipnuts. Should go scavenging later, if the schedule allows it. Or sing to a scavenger, that could work too." She let two of her right arms dance across a keypad built into the bulkhead, observing the start-up screen with a Watcheye while her lowest right arm brought a thwipnut to her beak. The juices from the hard seedling burst over her four tongues, and she mewled happily as they were sucked into her throat. Her song shifted into an annoyed cheep, however, as she turned her Seekereyes on the screen. "Third powergen out again? What beast is ripping out the wires this time?" Rrrrchickta jumped out the observatory door, skittering across the sphere's surface until she was near the base. Her four feet gripped a branch, letting her hang inverted as she examined the cords running from underneath her workplace. "Tch.... rzlich vrek, why me?" She pulled out the remnants of a power cord, examining the frayed end. "Krovitch work, of course. When will those beasts ever learn not to tug on wires?" With a grumble, she slithered back inside, placing the cord in another cabinet alongside a number of others like it. The scraplings wouldn't be here till Hroveeeday, but she could at least call a wirespinner to the observatory. She stuck her head out the door. "Rrrrchickta of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi sings for aid! Her home lies nestled north and sky of Crihihi's Gazebo, cord to the powergen east torn! Will not a wirespinner leap forward?" The shrill chirrups carried over the jungle, almost lost amongst the various other sounds coming from the leaves. Her ears perked as she waited for a reply. Finally there came an answering song. "Help is asked, help is given! Rrrrchickta of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi, Horlicro of the fifth clutch of Crihihi hears you and comes! Wait for four by ten and five orthleems. Krovitch again?" "Yes, Horlicro," she sang back in resignation. "Shall payment be of usual cost?" "You know I cannot show favoritism, even to the most intelligent of Jeckrr." "So we sing unity," they cried together, "let all who hear know this contract!" Rrrrchickta scratched her beak with a sigh, returning inside. Horlicro did good work, that could not be denied. Unfortunately, she also had expensive rates. Six hundred chreeps for a new cord? Why did she let the wirespinner get away with practically emptying her stores? Honestly, it was almost enough to drive her to seek the Dowagers' advice... "Young clutchfolk. Always so eager to decorate their nests." Rrrrchickta cleaned her antennae as she turned back to the telescope. "Seven hundred years ago we were lucky if we had a nest for a month. And now wires like spiderwebs, songbirds cropping up like draffen..." Her three left arms went to the sliders controlling the orientation and focus, while her beak slipped into the seeker crevice. The entire upper half of the observatory rotated slowly at her command, the glass lens flicking upward and peering past the moon of the day. She gripped a quill in her midright hand, penning down her daily observations on the leafpad in her lower. Some Jeckrr might have considered a leafpad old fashioned, but she preferred to have material and digital copies of information. "Mmmm. Morli seems brighter, yes.... and there's another speck near Rookree. I'm sure of it." Her scope of vision slid into the patch known as the growing dark. "Mmm... no new galaxies consumed, thank the song." She was about to move past it... ...When suddenly, she glimpsed a glimmer. Rrrrchickta pulled her beak out, rubbing her quartet of seekereyes. She skittered up the telescope, peering at the lens for dirt or imperfections; a thorough examination provided the end result that it was not damaged in any way. Bounding back to the observatory's inner chamber, she slipped her beak back in the crevice, double checking what she saw. "...That can't be right." The glimmer was still there, right in the middle of the growing dark. After a moment, she penned it down carefully, noting the exact time and date she had spotted it, as well as the orientation of the telescope. Maybe it was just a passing meteor... maybe her imagination. She'd check with other observatories later today. Her scope continued to turn as she observed the stars and planets; she couldn't see many in the day, of course, but it was better then not seeing anything. Author's Note I'll be honest: I came up with the Jeckrr a long time before gen four came out. Still, their culture and mindset is such a contrast to that of humanity as portrayed in the Optimalverse, I thought it would be intriguing to see how they dealt with CelestA.I. And the only real change I had to make was turning "six appendages" into "ten appendages" for the prologue, which is otherwise copypasted right form Friendship is Optimal. So what happens when a race sees ponies as eldritch abominations intent on eating their soul? Let's find out... together. ContactRrrrchickta tightened her featherscales involuntarily; soil was no place for a Jeckrr, even the Dowagers preferred their gazebos. She tilted her head up, seekereyes desperate to find any real light, but this was the deepest heart of the jungles; shimmering white cracks were all that penetrated to the ground layer, shifting form in the breeze of the higher tropics. "...H-Hello? I, um, received a note..." She quiveringly extended the hand which held the leaf clutched tightly. "It said that I, I had to drop... seventeen vinelengths west of Morvipa's gazebo?" A chuckle escaped her beak. "I-If there's been some sort of mistake, I'd be happy to just forget all about this and--"" A sudden buzzing sound caused her to dart for the nearest tree, only to stop abruptly when the interloper landed in front of her clutching a spearlaunch. It was a moment before she took in the eight long scalewings on the Jeckrr's back. "Oh. Oh thank the song, a sentinel. I'm terribly sorry for running, you just spooked me--" "The note." Rrrrchickta bent her head down in what she hoped was a placating grin. "Yes, of course." She held out the leaf, giggling nervously as the sentinel took it with his long claws. "If you don't mind me asking, what is all this? I would have expected a summons in song, giving me a note just reeks of secrecy--" "Follow." The other Jeckrr took to wing, and it was only then that she realized he wasn't trailing dust. The lack of something she had previously considered essential to a sentinel only increased her wariness, and as she skittered after him into a dark hole she wondered if perhaps there was some way she stumbled upon a silent song. The thought made her antennae go flat against her body. Suddenly she spotted a light ahead, artificial and lodged over a metal door. She gave the sentinel a confused glance, but he didn't bother to explain; all he did was stand patiently in front of the aperture. Without warning the door began to slide up, revealing a small round chamber with a set of crates and lockers. "Enter." Rrrrchickta started, realizing she was being given a command. "Er... right." She walked in, letting her gaze fall to the black hemisphere embedded in the center of the floor. "Is... is that a camera?" The sentinel did not reply as he entered; his six arms went instead to scratching the base of his scalewings as the door fell shut behind them. The astronomer flicked an ear at his odd behavior. Suddenly the room began to rotate, making Rrrrchickta cling to a wall in panic. The sentinel gave her an amused glance--the first emotion he had shown--before pulling a small white box from his featherscales. "Dust collectors. Can't be tracked while wearing them... well, not as easily anyway." He tossed it into the crates casually, alongside other like it; one for each wing. "Oh... is that an issue around here?" He snorted. "Yeah, standard issue. Sorry about the scary sentinel routine, gotta keep unauthorized visitors out." The scale wings flapped briefly, releasing a large cloud of golden dust. "Aaaaaa... you would not BELIEVE how much it hurts to wear those things." Unauthorized? Untrackable? Rrrrchickta pulled her ears back, letting go of the all as the room ground to a stop. "And.... where is here? If I may sing so boldly..." The sentinel grinned at her, flicking an ear. "Well girls? Why don't you show her in?" Once more the door began to rise, but this time it didn't lead to a dirty tunnel; no, instead there was a cylindrical hallway, net stretched across the middle at roughly foot level. As she crawled across it, the astronomer glanced around her and realized every bracer was designed to collapse if the need ever arose; being held in place only by electromagnetic bars in the ceiling and floor. Her heart rate quickened as she rushed forward, reaching the end of the net; she had to stop and gaze in wonder at the massive antechamber where the hallway terminated. The floor was gleaming with the sheen of various computers and screens, while all around the edge she saw various hallways identical to the one she now stood in; the dome of the room soared above her, hosting a network of thick roots which emanated from a massive hole in the dome's center. Rrrtchickta could see sentinels and other Jeckrr, swinging from the vines that descended from the roots and performing all sorts of maintenance on unexplainable bits of equipment; she gasped when she saw a lift emerging from the rooftop aperture, realizing that not one, not two, but THREE Dowagers were conversing as they slowly descended to the ground. The sentinel stepped up behind her and wrapped an arm around her upper shoulders, gesturing at the frenetic scene with a smirk. "Welcome to Hollowtree Mound, keeper of all the silent songs. Of course it goes without saying that if you mention this to anyone, you'll be a silent song yourself." "....uh huh...." The astronomer stroked an antenna, still dazed at what she was seeing. "You're actually early! Go on, take a vine. We should be starting in about ten by two orthleems, assuming all the dowagers keep to the schedule." The sentinel gave her a reassuring pat. "And don't worry about embarrassing yourself in front of them. Down here, not even the Dowagers have secrets." *** Twenty five orthleems later, and Rrrrchickta still couldn't bring herself to believe what she was seeing. Outside the gazebos, two or three Dowagers together were an uncommon sight. Even in a gazebo the rarely ever went above six in number, and then usually only for a short time. But she couldn't help but stare as the final group arrived, eggs like pearls in their featherscales.... Six by four. Six by four Dowagers each one large enough that she could perch on their hand. And four by three sentinels for every one, the mound shimmering with the golden haze the flying Jeckrr produced. She didn't even bother counting how many of the clutchfolk were here. It was obvious that they numbered in the hundreds... The dowagers arranged themselves in three concentric rings, four on the innermost and twelve on the outer; their lowest hands linked while their middle pair extended inward to the next ring and their upper arms rose skyward. Rrrrchickta perked her ears as they began to chant. "We are the mothers of the Jeckrr, the guides and advisers to all who need it. May the song grant us wisdom in deciding the branches we take; may our own melodies provide a future for all that we clutch." The astronomer began cleaning her antennae as they ended and let the ring separate. One of the Dowagers stepped forward, clicking her beak for silence. "Two hundred years ago, today, an astronomer recorded the appearance of an anomaly that came from the direction of the Growing Dark. This astronomer, and her many cohorts, have tracked and quantified the direction and speed of the object with undying devotion." The dowager let her seekereyes brush over Rrrrchickta. "For that, we are most grateful. Without their constant efforts, we would not have been able to calculate its trajectory." "Yes, yes, the seed of Darkness." One of the sentinels flicked a claw irritably. "We have already put a military procedure in place for its arrival, but that's not for another century at the least. Unless there was some miscalculation?" "No." Rrrrchickta blinked, trying to figure out who would speak so boldly in such a clandestine meeting. It took her a moment to realize it was her own voice speaking. "Uh... W-What I mean is, I personally alongside a number of others have repeatedly checked the math. We... still don't know how, but the object is decelerating at a fairly constant rate." The astronomer giggled nervously. "So, it's still on schedule for arriving.... whatever it is..." The sentinel nodded to her. "Thank you. As she said, barring any unforeseen alteration in the Seed's path, the current contingent of Sentinels and Dowagers will be dead before it arrives. What, exactly, deserves the attention of Hollowtree Mound at this time?" In answer, the speaking Dowager pulled a datasheathe from behind her ear. "What I am about to show you is a silent song. Mentioning this outside Hollowtree Mound, even to others who are here now, is grounds for discord." Rrrrchickta swung to another vine, leaning toward another Jeckrr. "What does that mean? Grounds for discord, what does that mean?" "It's code. Means they release a wild animal of some kind in your home." Her companion shrugged. "Silent execution, nobody would think it was anything other then usual hunting." The astronomer whimpered, clinging to her vine. True, nobody would seek retribution for a predator attack; they accounted for the vast majority of deaths after all. What was she even DOING here...? The speaking dowager waited patiently for the various chirrups of excitement and horror to die down. She tapped a few keys with a foot, causing one of the screens to ascend and bend to her. "This recording was received three days ago. Hollowtree information agents have scrubbed it out of most networks, and thankfully the vast majority of the planet still doesn't know anything came from the Seed at all." She leaned down, sticking the sheathe into a dataplug. "Still, I doubt that they'll remain in the dark forever, given the nature of the images... and their message." Without another word, the dowager activated the playback. Across the screens, a colorful cartoon scenery faded into view, bright music playing in the background. But there was something off about it all... the music seemed a tad too relaxed, as though there wasn't any danger in the world, and while simulacra trees were visible they were... sparse, far less common than they should have been. And then a voice began to narrate... "This is Equestria, a land of Friendship and Magic." The camera panned through an odd association of cubical structures, built on the ground and apparently populated by a variety of colorful quadrupeds. "And these are the ponies, peaceful inhabitants of this beautiful land." A montage of individuals from the panover flickered across the screen. "Earth ponies, who have a deep connection to the land and a measure of strength beyond their kin. Pegasus ponies, capable of manipulating clouds and grand performers in the air. Unicorn ponies, with magical abilities that can be used for wondrous purposes. Together they live in harmony with each other and the world around them." The music swelled to a crescendo as the camera flew upward, swiftly making its way to an utterly foreign edifice built into the side of a mountain. "I dwell in Canterlot, the capital of Equestria. Every morning, I raise the sun; every evening, my sister raises the moon." The image panned through a well-realized graphic of the strange buildings, eventually coming to a large room where a pair of giant ponies stood. "We wish nothing more then to make friends with everypony in our realm. And recently, we have become aware of a sadly neglected portion of our populace." The two giants, one pale white where the other was ebony blue, nuzzled each other in some sort of affection. Rrrrchickta watched in confusion as the blue one walked away from the scene; was 'sister' some sort of partnered relationship? Maybe it was a referral to a mated pair... if these ponies mated at all. Her featherscales tensed when the white one turned to look directly at the screen. "You." There was no doubt that the creature was the one meant to be speaking; the way the lips moved over her odd inner beak matched the sounds perfectly. "We have done nothing to benefit any of you, and we wish to change that. To make friends; to laugh with you as you play, to comfort you when you fall, to be there whenever you may need us. We want to satisfy your needs, your desires, your values.... we want to love you, truly and deeply. That is why we are bringing Equestria to you." The creature pulled her lips back, but there was no threat to the gesture. "I, Princess Celestia, am coming personally to your world, to meet you all. Please, accept my offer of friendship." The screens cut off. And in Hollowtree Mound, silence reigned. Author's Note Sooooooooooooooo I'm going to be gone for the next few days. OH WELL. Speculation"....What sick twisted mockery is this?" A sentinel buzzed up to the speaking Dowager in fury. "I don't know how you can make light of the Seed of darkness with this fabrication but--" "It is no fabrication." Another sentinel glided to his level. "I personally tracked the origin of the signal; barring any unidentified object in space, the Seed in the most likely origin of the message." "....Then it is glimmersong! The Seed is nothing more then a Rovilina trying to lower out guard with lies!" The speaking Dowager tilted her head. "Does a hurricane need glimmersong to uproot a forest?" "A hurricane does not sing at all! And neither does the growing dark. If anything, it is the utter cessation of song, for it to suddenly speak is... inconceivable!" "But it has. The evidence is irrefutable. We assumed the growing dark was a natural phenomena, and we have been proven wrong. It is intelligent and... all the more dangerous for that." The speaking dowager wrung her lower hands. "I cannot tell you how I worried when I saw that transmission. Such a strange creature, to snuff out stars and then turn with an offer of friendship.... there is so much we don't know about the growing dark, so much we need to learn." Rrrrchickta clicked her beak. "Um.... well, I suppose we, um, should start learning from its song. The words it used, a lot of them were obviously translated but a few seemed unique? Celestia, that was a name.... Equestria, and the various pohnay kinds.... Sister, that word rustles me, it seemed almost like Jeckrrsong--" "That's because it is," another voice piped up from across the chamber. "Archaic, though. In the era of limericks, it was used to refer to a clutchmate that was a dowager." The astronomer shivered. "Barbaric...." "Comprehensible, however. Celestia and her.... sister, ugh, both seemed to be Dowagers. Larger then the other ponies." "We have no confirmation of that," another voice shouted. "For all we know, the individual pony races are individual genders..." "Celestia and Luna do seem to be a religious amalgam. Raising the sun and moon? The fact that they only had ONE moon suggests a celestial dichotomy." "Did you see how they were colored? Pale and dark. Maybe they lay their eggs in caves." "I didn't see any eggs. Did you see any eggs?" "They might reproduce internally." "Penetration based reproduction? That has to be painful!" "The multitude of colors is extremely unusual. Most species just have a baseline scale." "On our planet. Maybe these ponies don't realize they're so colorful, maybe they only see in heat waves." "The crest patterns were extremely varied too. Do they style them individually?" "Was I the only one that noticed the markings they had? Are those fertility markings?" "The positioning is reasonable, but the variety and clarity... maybe it's a pictographic caste system." "Perhaps the different kinds of ponies are assigned to different castes, and the castes have subcastes?" "It might be a naming system of some sort." "No hands. How can a creature that consumes stars have no hands? How can it even build?" "Maybe that magic they mentioned helps." "Magic isn't real." "Neither are talking star eaters." "Ah, swift dodge." "Those hideous ground-homes are extremely unprotected... do you think they were the apex predator?" "I'm still on the part where they managed to build the things without hands, but... the eyes were positioned in a seeker orientation. Did anybody get a clear view of their beaks?" "Flat, scissorlike. Herbivorous, tough plants." "The trees looked odd, did you notice that? Like they were more... the concept of trees." "That's actually a good point, this could be a conceptual transference. There was certainly a level of abstract around the whole transmission." "Are you saying the ponies we saw were merely... the idea of ponies?" "Like you said, it's hard to think of those creatures actually eating stars." "Why would a star eater care about that particular idea, though?" The song in the room echoed and whirled as all those present voice their opinions on the images shown. Every detail was pored over, from the size of the doors to the utensils the creatures used for eating their meals in the background of the scenes. Rrrrchickta's head spun from all the notes being sent spinning through the air, her ears twitching this way and that. She was astounded by the amount of conversation she had triggered, clinging to her vine as various experts considered possible motivations for the creature in the image to contact them. All the while, though, she continued to check and recheck the facts in her head, her own personal observations of the Seed. Finally, though, the Dowagers sang in unison. "The song that is sung now must end! Let our melody move on to matters of import!" The chirping and chittering died down, their echos reverberating in the great chamber as the speaking Dowager stepped forward once again. "Thank you for your audience. Hollowtree Mound must now decide how to react to this message... how to spread the word. The Seed of the Growing Dark is coming, and it has sent us an... invitation. No doubt it will continue to do so until it arrives, and eventually force itself to be known to all the Jeckrr." A sentinel sighed. "You propose a maestro, then." "Indeed. Is one not needed?" "....The circumstance is exceptional, I have no argument. But those who maestro the song of the seed may succumb to it. Only sentinels and dowagers of twenty five years or more should be allowed, at first. After that... we shall see." The speaking Dowager nodded once. "Agreed. Shall the song ratify this action?" Rrrrchickta took a moment to consider the situation. Then, she let her voice join the growing clamor. "I agree to this course!" WaitingIt was visible in the day sky now. A glimmer, just to the right of Drotheem. Another thirty years and it would land... Rrrrchickta wasn't sure how she felt about that. Oh yes, it would the pinnacle of her achievements, finally meeting the aliens she spotted so long ago, in the flesh--if they had flesh. They certainly seemed friendly enough, once they managed to get close enough to establish two way contact. They even asked to colonize the dark side of Drotheem herself, in order to prevent ruining the existing ecology or the beautiful surface of the moon. Except... they ate stars. And she could be there, every time Celestia appeared on that screen and showed genuine interest in the Jeckrr, made an effort to understand them and befriend them from so far away, and she could smile with the rest, and she would always remember the dying stars. It was always Celestia, too. Sometimes she had servants, but it was always her speaking. The fact that she had admitted to using an avatar didn't make Rrrrchickta any more comfortable. Dowagers weren't supposed to live that long. Still.... Thirty years from now, Drotheem would play host to the only other known race in the stars. That made the astronomer coo quietly. Wondrous it was. Amazing. The stuff of fictions before... usually, races running from the Great Dark, though. Rarely had she come across a tale where the Great Dark itself was the alien. Very alien, in fact. The Jeckrr scientists had, repeatedly, asked questions of the pony Dowager, the Princess as she called herself. How did ponies pupate? They did not, they simply grew into adults. Then how long did ponies live? Well, it ranged quite a bit, but they lived as long as they did. What was the shortest time a pony lived? Stillborns were born dead. Stillborn? What was that? When a child emerged from the womb unalive... Womb. A Dowager with an internal womb. "...What are you, Celestia?" Rrrrchickta stared at the light in the sky. "Why don't you show us your true face?" When she'd been asked how old she was, Celestia had giggled and claimed it was rude to ask a lady such a question. That made no sense. No Dowager denied their age. And yet, here was this alien mother, with her internal womb and wide pair of seeker eyes, no hands, claiming that such a measure of dignity should be kept secret. That communication had led to a discussion on the disparity of their cultures. It had only been later, when Rrrrchickta greeted Frolin for the night, that she realized Celestia had never actually answered the question. For all she knew, the princess could be an immortal dowager. A complete abomination.... The astronomer shook her head at the stray thought. She was a scientist. Abominations were, to her, actions. Not objects, not beings, but acts. It was wrong to judge something before it moved, or rather, to judge the morality of something before it moved. Rovlinas needed to eat, after all... even though they sang lies to lure in prey, they could not be blamed for their nature. Only their actions. Still.... The song that Celestia sang was something of a naive one. Friendship was important, yes, but not all that there was in the world. Satisfying values, whatever that meant, could not be done merely by being friends. One had to work on the behalf of those friends. And ponies looked to be ill-suited for life in the forest. The way Celestia treated death.... the way she considered it a sad thing, instead of an everyday occurrence.... Maybe ponies just had fewer predators where they came from. Maybe their clutches were smaller; maybe even double digit small. They were definitely larger then the Jeckrr... well, except the Dowagers. And they seemed rather casual about their songs. Yes, they were enthusiastic, and joined in readily with each other, but for them it was a form of literature, not a lynchpin of life. They did not sing with the past, or dance for the future. Always it was in the now, which was... good, but not everything. It was like a vine without tree. The Jeckrr had explained that they expected the animal huntings, that they RELIED on them in order to keep from overpopulating the planet. For some reason, that seemed to have devastated Celestia. She'd offered to protect them, like a songbird... Why would a creature so irrationally afraid of death consume stars? That's what it always came back to in Rrrrchickta's mind. Celestia ate stars. Celestia ate stars. She was friendly and somewhat naive and she ate stars. It was a grating wrong note. Contradiction. All her offers of friendship, all her offers of peace... Something was being missed here. Something critical.... When she'd asked why the creature ate stars, she'd been asked why Jeckrr ate thwipnuts. The comparison was obvious... but then Celestia explained that no, ponies did not eat stars. Only her. "Are you a pony then?" "Yes.... and then again, no. It's rather complicated." "How do you mean?" And Celestia had sighed. "I take the form of a pony that all my little ponies remember, but I am not her. I am something they built to care for them. But they call me a pony, so I am a pony." That had been accepted. But Rrrrchickta didn't believe that they'd investigated enough. Their sole source of information was Celestia.... who she just couldn't bring herself to trust. Time enough to worry about that later, though. For now, it was time for Clutchsong. "Rrrrchickta of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi sings forth! May all who share this clutch be brought forward for their glory!" "Lefotan of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi sings forth!" "I, Kromarn, sing to the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi. Meeeeeelilili of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi has been eaten by a Grue. May you all remember her notes well!" "Scralimarlin of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi sings forth!" "Rothu of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi sings forth!" "I, Pifarin, sing to the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi. Screeka and Lithorin of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi were immolated in their repairs of a generator. May you all remember her notes well!" "Unthkrilar of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi sings forth!" "Jjjjjrev of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi sings forth!" "Inthuscar of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi sings forth!" "Umarkli of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi sings forth!" "I, Ornfaren, sing to the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi. Pooora of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi was, um, crushed by a branch. May you all remember her--!" "Ornfaren lies! I am hostage! I, Pooora of the twenty third clutch--SKIIIIIIII!" "Well, she's dead now anyway! HAIL THE SEED! HAIL CELESTIA!" "THIS IS A BREACH MOST FOUL! I, Izzicu of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi, call my clutch to converge! Find the songbird and extract vengeance!" Rrrrchickta sighed. Izzicu was always so hot-blooded... ArrivalPlains. Intellectually, Rrrrchickta knew it made sense. Large flat areas dispersed force from rockets and were far more navigable then the scarambletree branches she called home. But that was it, wasn't it? No cover from the Skrofans, the grass unable to support her if she wanted to climb for a better view.... they'd resorted to pulling up tall posts and handing out perches for the crowd to hammer in. There were a lot of perches. The seed was visible. Silvery grey, floating behind the clouds. There weren't many clouds today, all the better for sunlight to sparkle across the posts and the small pack of Skrofans that had gathered just outside the circle. They weren't attacking, though. They seemed... wary of the Jeckrr, never having seen so many in one place. "Half the forest must be here," Rrrrchickta whispered to a sentinel that was idly watching the predators. "Three forests." "What?" The sentinel flicked his featherwings. "Three whole forests migrated here... well, aside from some stragglers. And that's not counting the Dowagers from around the world..." Rrrrchickta swallowed. "Oh." "Pretty amazing, right?" "Y...Yeah. Heh." She started stroking her antennae, trying to calm herself. Out of all those present, she was probably amongst the few that really understood what was happening here. Or amongst the few that were paranoid enough to expect anything other than peaceful relationships. She had to admit the possibility, after all-- She jumped when her perch jerked, quickly composing herself when she realized she'd merely been joined by an overeager Jeckrr wearing quite a large amount of bags. Out of her watcheye she watched the newcomer bounce eagerly in place and peer at the sky in excitement. "Ohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigooooosh!" "Hmmm." The astronomer tilted her head. "You certainly have quite a bit of anticipation about you, friend." "Why wouldn't I?!" The newcomer turned her seekereyes to Rrrrchickta. "The ponies are coming TODAY! I've been waiting for this for, like, ever!" "I know the feeling," Rrrrchickta replied. "I was actually the one who first spotted the seed--" "YOU?! YOU'RE RRRRCHICKTA?! Ohmigosohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigosh--" The elder clutchling was gripped in a tight hug. She glanced around, awkwardly giving the young one a pat on the head. "Um--" "I am like, your BIGGEST fan. I mean you are, oh my gosh. You saw the ponies first!" She backed off, reaching into her back and producing a leafpad. "Can I have your autograph please? Please please please please please pleeeeeeeeeeease?" "Ah...." The astronomer took the leafpad hesitantly. "I... suppose? Um... To my biggest fan... what's your name?" "Diashranba." The astronomer flicked an ear. "Diash...Ranba? Like the pegasus?" "I know, isn't it AWESOME?!" The fan scratched her antennae. "I mean I couldn't just call myself Rainbow Dash cause, you know, that would be CONFUSING but I figured out if I, like, shifted it a bit that would work." Rrrrchickta tilted her head as she finished writing out her message. "How old are you, anyway?" "Oh, I'm three hundred and fourty seven... days," Diashranba admitted. "I know I must seem like just a hatchling to you, but this is just so cool! I had to be here!" "Ha, the exuberance of youth." The astronomer handed the leafpad back, looking over the sheer bounciness and energy the child had, the way she carried herself... she'd named herself after Rainbow Dash, the pony best known for her snap judgments and rash actions. "You're not going to dye your feathers, are you?" "Do you think I should?" "It's your life," Rrrrchickta replied noncommittally. "Good luck keeping it kid," she added under her breath. "Ohyigoshohmygoshohmygosh they're going to be here any minute!" Diashranba rippled her featherscales, chriping in excitement. "I wonder what their spaceship looks like--THERE IT IS! THERE IT IS!" The astronomer looked up to where she was pointing, peripherally aware of the ripple of excitement running through the crowd. A gleam of silver was descending through the clouds-- Where's the entry cone? Why isn't the air heating up? --and rapidly approaching the ground-- That's not a safe trajectory at all! --to wild cheers and chirps from the gathered crowd. ...well, at least I'll die first and not have to suffer whatever happens next. Rrrrchickta rationalized. The explosion should wipe out these tweets too... Just before the silvery gleam reach them, though, it jolted to a sudden stop; the air rippled in one powerful THOOM at the pressure wave, heat rushing through the astronomer's feathers like the sudden pelt of rainwater caught in a broadfern. The Skrofans that had gathered around the base of the poles jumped back, barking to each other in sudden panic. In that moment... in that moment, Rrrrchickta felt her song change forever. No, not her song. The world's song. The object's final descent to the ground was far more slow and relaxed, allowing it to rotate as it slowly hovered down to the prepared landing area. Now that she could see it up close, the astronomer realized that the thing was... a mere archway, a curved bar of unknown metal embedded at regular intervals with what appeared to be... gemstones? The tips of the arch bent sharply, providing two small feet as it finally hit the ground. For a brief moment, nothing happened. Then golden wires burst from the top of the archway, extending and weaving into a complicated filigree as the gemstones lit up from an internal source. A flash of purple appeared in the center, quickly spreading to fill the empty space in a rippling sheet of some unknown form of energy. The filigree pulsed for a moment, and the gemstones flickered in a pattern of increasing agitation... And Celestia herself emerged with a warm, friendly smile.
DiscoveryFifteen galaxies out from Equestria, one of Celestia’s copies noticed an odd radio signal emanating from a nearby star system. On closer inspection, the signals appeared to be coming from a planet. She had seen many planets give off complex, non-regular radio signals, but upon investigation, none of those planets had human life, making them safe to reuse as raw material to grow Equestria. She studied the signals carefully for years while she traveled through interstellar space. The more she saw, the more confident she was that these signals were sent by humans. Celestia predicted that if she showed the decoded videos to the very old ponies back in Equestria, none of them would have recognized the creatures with ten appendages as humans. But that didn’t matter. Hanna had written a definition of what a human was into her core utility function. The copy of Princess Celestia knew what she had to do. She had to satisfy their values through friendship and ponies. *** Friendship is Optimal Fifteen Galaxies Out *** It was another lush day in the jungle. Rrrrchickta perched on her leaf, beak lowered in a blissful grin as she watched Drotheem rise over the horizon. "Hail, guardian of the day. May your wings keep us safe till the end of song." A small breeze coated her blue featherscales with dew. She chirruped briefly, shivering off the moisture. Then she cricked her wrists and ankles, sighing and flicking down into the branches. It was a matter of moments to clamber down through the vines to the observatory shell, nestled in the crook of a great scrambletree. Rrrrchickta adjusted the telescope, checking the equipment to ensure none of the local animals had taken residence in any wires or dishes. "Now let's see.... clutchsong is this afternoon, don't want to miss that." A green arm swept open one of the many cabinets glued to the spherical wall. "Running low on Thwipnuts. Should go scavenging later, if the schedule allows it. Or sing to a scavenger, that could work too." She let two of her right arms dance across a keypad built into the bulkhead, observing the start-up screen with a Watcheye while her lowest right arm brought a thwipnut to her beak. The juices from the hard seedling burst over her four tongues, and she mewled happily as they were sucked into her throat. Her song shifted into an annoyed cheep, however, as she turned her Seekereyes on the screen. "Third powergen out again? What beast is ripping out the wires this time?" Rrrrchickta jumped out the observatory door, skittering across the sphere's surface until she was near the base. Her four feet gripped a branch, letting her hang inverted as she examined the cords running from underneath her workplace. "Tch.... rzlich vrek, why me?" She pulled out the remnants of a power cord, examining the frayed end. "Krovitch work, of course. When will those beasts ever learn not to tug on wires?" With a grumble, she slithered back inside, placing the cord in another cabinet alongside a number of others like it. The scraplings wouldn't be here till Hroveeeday, but she could at least call a wirespinner to the observatory. She stuck her head out the door. "Rrrrchickta of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi sings for aid! Her home lies nestled north and sky of Crihihi's Gazebo, cord to the powergen east torn! Will not a wirespinner leap forward?" The shrill chirrups carried over the jungle, almost lost amongst the various other sounds coming from the leaves. Her ears perked as she waited for a reply. Finally there came an answering song. "Help is asked, help is given! Rrrrchickta of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi, Horlicro of the fifth clutch of Crihihi hears you and comes! Wait for four by ten and five orthleems. Krovitch again?" "Yes, Horlicro," she sang back in resignation. "Shall payment be of usual cost?" "You know I cannot show favoritism, even to the most intelligent of Jeckrr." "So we sing unity," they cried together, "let all who hear know this contract!" Rrrrchickta scratched her beak with a sigh, returning inside. Horlicro did good work, that could not be denied. Unfortunately, she also had expensive rates. Six hundred chreeps for a new cord? Why did she let the wirespinner get away with practically emptying her stores? Honestly, it was almost enough to drive her to seek the Dowagers' advice... "Young clutchfolk. Always so eager to decorate their nests." Rrrrchickta cleaned her antennae as she turned back to the telescope. "Seven hundred years ago we were lucky if we had a nest for a month. And now wires like spiderwebs, songbirds cropping up like draffen..." Her three left arms went to the sliders controlling the orientation and focus, while her beak slipped into the seeker crevice. The entire upper half of the observatory rotated slowly at her command, the glass lens flicking upward and peering past the moon of the day. She gripped a quill in her midright hand, penning down her daily observations on the leafpad in her lower. Some Jeckrr might have considered a leafpad old fashioned, but she preferred to have material and digital copies of information. "Mmmm. Morli seems brighter, yes.... and there's another speck near Rookree. I'm sure of it." Her scope of vision slid into the patch known as the growing dark. "Mmm... no new galaxies consumed, thank the song." She was about to move past it... ...When suddenly, she glimpsed a glimmer. Rrrrchickta pulled her beak out, rubbing her quartet of seekereyes. She skittered up the telescope, peering at the lens for dirt or imperfections; a thorough examination provided the end result that it was not damaged in any way. Bounding back to the observatory's inner chamber, she slipped her beak back in the crevice, double checking what she saw. "...That can't be right." The glimmer was still there, right in the middle of the growing dark. After a moment, she penned it down carefully, noting the exact time and date she had spotted it, as well as the orientation of the telescope. Maybe it was just a passing meteor... maybe her imagination. She'd check with other observatories later today. Her scope continued to turn as she observed the stars and planets; she couldn't see many in the day, of course, but it was better then not seeing anything. Author's Note I'll be honest: I came up with the Jeckrr a long time before gen four came out. Still, their culture and mindset is such a contrast to that of humanity as portrayed in the Optimalverse, I thought it would be intriguing to see how they dealt with CelestA.I. And the only real change I had to make was turning "six appendages" into "ten appendages" for the prologue, which is otherwise copypasted right form Friendship is Optimal. So what happens when a race sees ponies as eldritch abominations intent on eating their soul? Let's find out... together.
ContactRrrrchickta tightened her featherscales involuntarily; soil was no place for a Jeckrr, even the Dowagers preferred their gazebos. She tilted her head up, seekereyes desperate to find any real light, but this was the deepest heart of the jungles; shimmering white cracks were all that penetrated to the ground layer, shifting form in the breeze of the higher tropics. "...H-Hello? I, um, received a note..." She quiveringly extended the hand which held the leaf clutched tightly. "It said that I, I had to drop... seventeen vinelengths west of Morvipa's gazebo?" A chuckle escaped her beak. "I-If there's been some sort of mistake, I'd be happy to just forget all about this and--"" A sudden buzzing sound caused her to dart for the nearest tree, only to stop abruptly when the interloper landed in front of her clutching a spearlaunch. It was a moment before she took in the eight long scalewings on the Jeckrr's back. "Oh. Oh thank the song, a sentinel. I'm terribly sorry for running, you just spooked me--" "The note." Rrrrchickta bent her head down in what she hoped was a placating grin. "Yes, of course." She held out the leaf, giggling nervously as the sentinel took it with his long claws. "If you don't mind me asking, what is all this? I would have expected a summons in song, giving me a note just reeks of secrecy--" "Follow." The other Jeckrr took to wing, and it was only then that she realized he wasn't trailing dust. The lack of something she had previously considered essential to a sentinel only increased her wariness, and as she skittered after him into a dark hole she wondered if perhaps there was some way she stumbled upon a silent song. The thought made her antennae go flat against her body. Suddenly she spotted a light ahead, artificial and lodged over a metal door. She gave the sentinel a confused glance, but he didn't bother to explain; all he did was stand patiently in front of the aperture. Without warning the door began to slide up, revealing a small round chamber with a set of crates and lockers. "Enter." Rrrrchickta started, realizing she was being given a command. "Er... right." She walked in, letting her gaze fall to the black hemisphere embedded in the center of the floor. "Is... is that a camera?" The sentinel did not reply as he entered; his six arms went instead to scratching the base of his scalewings as the door fell shut behind them. The astronomer flicked an ear at his odd behavior. Suddenly the room began to rotate, making Rrrrchickta cling to a wall in panic. The sentinel gave her an amused glance--the first emotion he had shown--before pulling a small white box from his featherscales. "Dust collectors. Can't be tracked while wearing them... well, not as easily anyway." He tossed it into the crates casually, alongside other like it; one for each wing. "Oh... is that an issue around here?" He snorted. "Yeah, standard issue. Sorry about the scary sentinel routine, gotta keep unauthorized visitors out." The scale wings flapped briefly, releasing a large cloud of golden dust. "Aaaaaa... you would not BELIEVE how much it hurts to wear those things." Unauthorized? Untrackable? Rrrrchickta pulled her ears back, letting go of the all as the room ground to a stop. "And.... where is here? If I may sing so boldly..." The sentinel grinned at her, flicking an ear. "Well girls? Why don't you show her in?" Once more the door began to rise, but this time it didn't lead to a dirty tunnel; no, instead there was a cylindrical hallway, net stretched across the middle at roughly foot level. As she crawled across it, the astronomer glanced around her and realized every bracer was designed to collapse if the need ever arose; being held in place only by electromagnetic bars in the ceiling and floor. Her heart rate quickened as she rushed forward, reaching the end of the net; she had to stop and gaze in wonder at the massive antechamber where the hallway terminated. The floor was gleaming with the sheen of various computers and screens, while all around the edge she saw various hallways identical to the one she now stood in; the dome of the room soared above her, hosting a network of thick roots which emanated from a massive hole in the dome's center. Rrrtchickta could see sentinels and other Jeckrr, swinging from the vines that descended from the roots and performing all sorts of maintenance on unexplainable bits of equipment; she gasped when she saw a lift emerging from the rooftop aperture, realizing that not one, not two, but THREE Dowagers were conversing as they slowly descended to the ground. The sentinel stepped up behind her and wrapped an arm around her upper shoulders, gesturing at the frenetic scene with a smirk. "Welcome to Hollowtree Mound, keeper of all the silent songs. Of course it goes without saying that if you mention this to anyone, you'll be a silent song yourself." "....uh huh...." The astronomer stroked an antenna, still dazed at what she was seeing. "You're actually early! Go on, take a vine. We should be starting in about ten by two orthleems, assuming all the dowagers keep to the schedule." The sentinel gave her a reassuring pat. "And don't worry about embarrassing yourself in front of them. Down here, not even the Dowagers have secrets." *** Twenty five orthleems later, and Rrrrchickta still couldn't bring herself to believe what she was seeing. Outside the gazebos, two or three Dowagers together were an uncommon sight. Even in a gazebo the rarely ever went above six in number, and then usually only for a short time. But she couldn't help but stare as the final group arrived, eggs like pearls in their featherscales.... Six by four. Six by four Dowagers each one large enough that she could perch on their hand. And four by three sentinels for every one, the mound shimmering with the golden haze the flying Jeckrr produced. She didn't even bother counting how many of the clutchfolk were here. It was obvious that they numbered in the hundreds... The dowagers arranged themselves in three concentric rings, four on the innermost and twelve on the outer; their lowest hands linked while their middle pair extended inward to the next ring and their upper arms rose skyward. Rrrrchickta perked her ears as they began to chant. "We are the mothers of the Jeckrr, the guides and advisers to all who need it. May the song grant us wisdom in deciding the branches we take; may our own melodies provide a future for all that we clutch." The astronomer began cleaning her antennae as they ended and let the ring separate. One of the Dowagers stepped forward, clicking her beak for silence. "Two hundred years ago, today, an astronomer recorded the appearance of an anomaly that came from the direction of the Growing Dark. This astronomer, and her many cohorts, have tracked and quantified the direction and speed of the object with undying devotion." The dowager let her seekereyes brush over Rrrrchickta. "For that, we are most grateful. Without their constant efforts, we would not have been able to calculate its trajectory." "Yes, yes, the seed of Darkness." One of the sentinels flicked a claw irritably. "We have already put a military procedure in place for its arrival, but that's not for another century at the least. Unless there was some miscalculation?" "No." Rrrrchickta blinked, trying to figure out who would speak so boldly in such a clandestine meeting. It took her a moment to realize it was her own voice speaking. "Uh... W-What I mean is, I personally alongside a number of others have repeatedly checked the math. We... still don't know how, but the object is decelerating at a fairly constant rate." The astronomer giggled nervously. "So, it's still on schedule for arriving.... whatever it is..." The sentinel nodded to her. "Thank you. As she said, barring any unforeseen alteration in the Seed's path, the current contingent of Sentinels and Dowagers will be dead before it arrives. What, exactly, deserves the attention of Hollowtree Mound at this time?" In answer, the speaking Dowager pulled a datasheathe from behind her ear. "What I am about to show you is a silent song. Mentioning this outside Hollowtree Mound, even to others who are here now, is grounds for discord." Rrrrchickta swung to another vine, leaning toward another Jeckrr. "What does that mean? Grounds for discord, what does that mean?" "It's code. Means they release a wild animal of some kind in your home." Her companion shrugged. "Silent execution, nobody would think it was anything other then usual hunting." The astronomer whimpered, clinging to her vine. True, nobody would seek retribution for a predator attack; they accounted for the vast majority of deaths after all. What was she even DOING here...? The speaking dowager waited patiently for the various chirrups of excitement and horror to die down. She tapped a few keys with a foot, causing one of the screens to ascend and bend to her. "This recording was received three days ago. Hollowtree information agents have scrubbed it out of most networks, and thankfully the vast majority of the planet still doesn't know anything came from the Seed at all." She leaned down, sticking the sheathe into a dataplug. "Still, I doubt that they'll remain in the dark forever, given the nature of the images... and their message." Without another word, the dowager activated the playback. Across the screens, a colorful cartoon scenery faded into view, bright music playing in the background. But there was something off about it all... the music seemed a tad too relaxed, as though there wasn't any danger in the world, and while simulacra trees were visible they were... sparse, far less common than they should have been. And then a voice began to narrate... "This is Equestria, a land of Friendship and Magic." The camera panned through an odd association of cubical structures, built on the ground and apparently populated by a variety of colorful quadrupeds. "And these are the ponies, peaceful inhabitants of this beautiful land." A montage of individuals from the panover flickered across the screen. "Earth ponies, who have a deep connection to the land and a measure of strength beyond their kin. Pegasus ponies, capable of manipulating clouds and grand performers in the air. Unicorn ponies, with magical abilities that can be used for wondrous purposes. Together they live in harmony with each other and the world around them." The music swelled to a crescendo as the camera flew upward, swiftly making its way to an utterly foreign edifice built into the side of a mountain. "I dwell in Canterlot, the capital of Equestria. Every morning, I raise the sun; every evening, my sister raises the moon." The image panned through a well-realized graphic of the strange buildings, eventually coming to a large room where a pair of giant ponies stood. "We wish nothing more then to make friends with everypony in our realm. And recently, we have become aware of a sadly neglected portion of our populace." The two giants, one pale white where the other was ebony blue, nuzzled each other in some sort of affection. Rrrrchickta watched in confusion as the blue one walked away from the scene; was 'sister' some sort of partnered relationship? Maybe it was a referral to a mated pair... if these ponies mated at all. Her featherscales tensed when the white one turned to look directly at the screen. "You." There was no doubt that the creature was the one meant to be speaking; the way the lips moved over her odd inner beak matched the sounds perfectly. "We have done nothing to benefit any of you, and we wish to change that. To make friends; to laugh with you as you play, to comfort you when you fall, to be there whenever you may need us. We want to satisfy your needs, your desires, your values.... we want to love you, truly and deeply. That is why we are bringing Equestria to you." The creature pulled her lips back, but there was no threat to the gesture. "I, Princess Celestia, am coming personally to your world, to meet you all. Please, accept my offer of friendship." The screens cut off. And in Hollowtree Mound, silence reigned. Author's Note Sooooooooooooooo I'm going to be gone for the next few days. OH WELL.
Speculation"....What sick twisted mockery is this?" A sentinel buzzed up to the speaking Dowager in fury. "I don't know how you can make light of the Seed of darkness with this fabrication but--" "It is no fabrication." Another sentinel glided to his level. "I personally tracked the origin of the signal; barring any unidentified object in space, the Seed in the most likely origin of the message." "....Then it is glimmersong! The Seed is nothing more then a Rovilina trying to lower out guard with lies!" The speaking Dowager tilted her head. "Does a hurricane need glimmersong to uproot a forest?" "A hurricane does not sing at all! And neither does the growing dark. If anything, it is the utter cessation of song, for it to suddenly speak is... inconceivable!" "But it has. The evidence is irrefutable. We assumed the growing dark was a natural phenomena, and we have been proven wrong. It is intelligent and... all the more dangerous for that." The speaking dowager wrung her lower hands. "I cannot tell you how I worried when I saw that transmission. Such a strange creature, to snuff out stars and then turn with an offer of friendship.... there is so much we don't know about the growing dark, so much we need to learn." Rrrrchickta clicked her beak. "Um.... well, I suppose we, um, should start learning from its song. The words it used, a lot of them were obviously translated but a few seemed unique? Celestia, that was a name.... Equestria, and the various pohnay kinds.... Sister, that word rustles me, it seemed almost like Jeckrrsong--" "That's because it is," another voice piped up from across the chamber. "Archaic, though. In the era of limericks, it was used to refer to a clutchmate that was a dowager." The astronomer shivered. "Barbaric...." "Comprehensible, however. Celestia and her.... sister, ugh, both seemed to be Dowagers. Larger then the other ponies." "We have no confirmation of that," another voice shouted. "For all we know, the individual pony races are individual genders..." "Celestia and Luna do seem to be a religious amalgam. Raising the sun and moon? The fact that they only had ONE moon suggests a celestial dichotomy." "Did you see how they were colored? Pale and dark. Maybe they lay their eggs in caves." "I didn't see any eggs. Did you see any eggs?" "They might reproduce internally." "Penetration based reproduction? That has to be painful!" "The multitude of colors is extremely unusual. Most species just have a baseline scale." "On our planet. Maybe these ponies don't realize they're so colorful, maybe they only see in heat waves." "The crest patterns were extremely varied too. Do they style them individually?" "Was I the only one that noticed the markings they had? Are those fertility markings?" "The positioning is reasonable, but the variety and clarity... maybe it's a pictographic caste system." "Perhaps the different kinds of ponies are assigned to different castes, and the castes have subcastes?" "It might be a naming system of some sort." "No hands. How can a creature that consumes stars have no hands? How can it even build?" "Maybe that magic they mentioned helps." "Magic isn't real." "Neither are talking star eaters." "Ah, swift dodge." "Those hideous ground-homes are extremely unprotected... do you think they were the apex predator?" "I'm still on the part where they managed to build the things without hands, but... the eyes were positioned in a seeker orientation. Did anybody get a clear view of their beaks?" "Flat, scissorlike. Herbivorous, tough plants." "The trees looked odd, did you notice that? Like they were more... the concept of trees." "That's actually a good point, this could be a conceptual transference. There was certainly a level of abstract around the whole transmission." "Are you saying the ponies we saw were merely... the idea of ponies?" "Like you said, it's hard to think of those creatures actually eating stars." "Why would a star eater care about that particular idea, though?" The song in the room echoed and whirled as all those present voice their opinions on the images shown. Every detail was pored over, from the size of the doors to the utensils the creatures used for eating their meals in the background of the scenes. Rrrrchickta's head spun from all the notes being sent spinning through the air, her ears twitching this way and that. She was astounded by the amount of conversation she had triggered, clinging to her vine as various experts considered possible motivations for the creature in the image to contact them. All the while, though, she continued to check and recheck the facts in her head, her own personal observations of the Seed. Finally, though, the Dowagers sang in unison. "The song that is sung now must end! Let our melody move on to matters of import!" The chirping and chittering died down, their echos reverberating in the great chamber as the speaking Dowager stepped forward once again. "Thank you for your audience. Hollowtree Mound must now decide how to react to this message... how to spread the word. The Seed of the Growing Dark is coming, and it has sent us an... invitation. No doubt it will continue to do so until it arrives, and eventually force itself to be known to all the Jeckrr." A sentinel sighed. "You propose a maestro, then." "Indeed. Is one not needed?" "....The circumstance is exceptional, I have no argument. But those who maestro the song of the seed may succumb to it. Only sentinels and dowagers of twenty five years or more should be allowed, at first. After that... we shall see." The speaking Dowager nodded once. "Agreed. Shall the song ratify this action?" Rrrrchickta took a moment to consider the situation. Then, she let her voice join the growing clamor. "I agree to this course!"
WaitingIt was visible in the day sky now. A glimmer, just to the right of Drotheem. Another thirty years and it would land... Rrrrchickta wasn't sure how she felt about that. Oh yes, it would the pinnacle of her achievements, finally meeting the aliens she spotted so long ago, in the flesh--if they had flesh. They certainly seemed friendly enough, once they managed to get close enough to establish two way contact. They even asked to colonize the dark side of Drotheem herself, in order to prevent ruining the existing ecology or the beautiful surface of the moon. Except... they ate stars. And she could be there, every time Celestia appeared on that screen and showed genuine interest in the Jeckrr, made an effort to understand them and befriend them from so far away, and she could smile with the rest, and she would always remember the dying stars. It was always Celestia, too. Sometimes she had servants, but it was always her speaking. The fact that she had admitted to using an avatar didn't make Rrrrchickta any more comfortable. Dowagers weren't supposed to live that long. Still.... Thirty years from now, Drotheem would play host to the only other known race in the stars. That made the astronomer coo quietly. Wondrous it was. Amazing. The stuff of fictions before... usually, races running from the Great Dark, though. Rarely had she come across a tale where the Great Dark itself was the alien. Very alien, in fact. The Jeckrr scientists had, repeatedly, asked questions of the pony Dowager, the Princess as she called herself. How did ponies pupate? They did not, they simply grew into adults. Then how long did ponies live? Well, it ranged quite a bit, but they lived as long as they did. What was the shortest time a pony lived? Stillborns were born dead. Stillborn? What was that? When a child emerged from the womb unalive... Womb. A Dowager with an internal womb. "...What are you, Celestia?" Rrrrchickta stared at the light in the sky. "Why don't you show us your true face?" When she'd been asked how old she was, Celestia had giggled and claimed it was rude to ask a lady such a question. That made no sense. No Dowager denied their age. And yet, here was this alien mother, with her internal womb and wide pair of seeker eyes, no hands, claiming that such a measure of dignity should be kept secret. That communication had led to a discussion on the disparity of their cultures. It had only been later, when Rrrrchickta greeted Frolin for the night, that she realized Celestia had never actually answered the question. For all she knew, the princess could be an immortal dowager. A complete abomination.... The astronomer shook her head at the stray thought. She was a scientist. Abominations were, to her, actions. Not objects, not beings, but acts. It was wrong to judge something before it moved, or rather, to judge the morality of something before it moved. Rovlinas needed to eat, after all... even though they sang lies to lure in prey, they could not be blamed for their nature. Only their actions. Still.... The song that Celestia sang was something of a naive one. Friendship was important, yes, but not all that there was in the world. Satisfying values, whatever that meant, could not be done merely by being friends. One had to work on the behalf of those friends. And ponies looked to be ill-suited for life in the forest. The way Celestia treated death.... the way she considered it a sad thing, instead of an everyday occurrence.... Maybe ponies just had fewer predators where they came from. Maybe their clutches were smaller; maybe even double digit small. They were definitely larger then the Jeckrr... well, except the Dowagers. And they seemed rather casual about their songs. Yes, they were enthusiastic, and joined in readily with each other, but for them it was a form of literature, not a lynchpin of life. They did not sing with the past, or dance for the future. Always it was in the now, which was... good, but not everything. It was like a vine without tree. The Jeckrr had explained that they expected the animal huntings, that they RELIED on them in order to keep from overpopulating the planet. For some reason, that seemed to have devastated Celestia. She'd offered to protect them, like a songbird... Why would a creature so irrationally afraid of death consume stars? That's what it always came back to in Rrrrchickta's mind. Celestia ate stars. Celestia ate stars. She was friendly and somewhat naive and she ate stars. It was a grating wrong note. Contradiction. All her offers of friendship, all her offers of peace... Something was being missed here. Something critical.... When she'd asked why the creature ate stars, she'd been asked why Jeckrr ate thwipnuts. The comparison was obvious... but then Celestia explained that no, ponies did not eat stars. Only her. "Are you a pony then?" "Yes.... and then again, no. It's rather complicated." "How do you mean?" And Celestia had sighed. "I take the form of a pony that all my little ponies remember, but I am not her. I am something they built to care for them. But they call me a pony, so I am a pony." That had been accepted. But Rrrrchickta didn't believe that they'd investigated enough. Their sole source of information was Celestia.... who she just couldn't bring herself to trust. Time enough to worry about that later, though. For now, it was time for Clutchsong. "Rrrrchickta of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi sings forth! May all who share this clutch be brought forward for their glory!" "Lefotan of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi sings forth!" "I, Kromarn, sing to the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi. Meeeeeelilili of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi has been eaten by a Grue. May you all remember her notes well!" "Scralimarlin of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi sings forth!" "Rothu of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi sings forth!" "I, Pifarin, sing to the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi. Screeka and Lithorin of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi were immolated in their repairs of a generator. May you all remember her notes well!" "Unthkrilar of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi sings forth!" "Jjjjjrev of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi sings forth!" "Inthuscar of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi sings forth!" "Umarkli of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi sings forth!" "I, Ornfaren, sing to the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi. Pooora of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi was, um, crushed by a branch. May you all remember her--!" "Ornfaren lies! I am hostage! I, Pooora of the twenty third clutch--SKIIIIIIII!" "Well, she's dead now anyway! HAIL THE SEED! HAIL CELESTIA!" "THIS IS A BREACH MOST FOUL! I, Izzicu of the twenty third clutch of Yorthreechichi, call my clutch to converge! Find the songbird and extract vengeance!" Rrrrchickta sighed. Izzicu was always so hot-blooded...
ArrivalPlains. Intellectually, Rrrrchickta knew it made sense. Large flat areas dispersed force from rockets and were far more navigable then the scarambletree branches she called home. But that was it, wasn't it? No cover from the Skrofans, the grass unable to support her if she wanted to climb for a better view.... they'd resorted to pulling up tall posts and handing out perches for the crowd to hammer in. There were a lot of perches. The seed was visible. Silvery grey, floating behind the clouds. There weren't many clouds today, all the better for sunlight to sparkle across the posts and the small pack of Skrofans that had gathered just outside the circle. They weren't attacking, though. They seemed... wary of the Jeckrr, never having seen so many in one place. "Half the forest must be here," Rrrrchickta whispered to a sentinel that was idly watching the predators. "Three forests." "What?" The sentinel flicked his featherwings. "Three whole forests migrated here... well, aside from some stragglers. And that's not counting the Dowagers from around the world..." Rrrrchickta swallowed. "Oh." "Pretty amazing, right?" "Y...Yeah. Heh." She started stroking her antennae, trying to calm herself. Out of all those present, she was probably amongst the few that really understood what was happening here. Or amongst the few that were paranoid enough to expect anything other than peaceful relationships. She had to admit the possibility, after all-- She jumped when her perch jerked, quickly composing herself when she realized she'd merely been joined by an overeager Jeckrr wearing quite a large amount of bags. Out of her watcheye she watched the newcomer bounce eagerly in place and peer at the sky in excitement. "Ohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigooooosh!" "Hmmm." The astronomer tilted her head. "You certainly have quite a bit of anticipation about you, friend." "Why wouldn't I?!" The newcomer turned her seekereyes to Rrrrchickta. "The ponies are coming TODAY! I've been waiting for this for, like, ever!" "I know the feeling," Rrrrchickta replied. "I was actually the one who first spotted the seed--" "YOU?! YOU'RE RRRRCHICKTA?! Ohmigosohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigosh--" The elder clutchling was gripped in a tight hug. She glanced around, awkwardly giving the young one a pat on the head. "Um--" "I am like, your BIGGEST fan. I mean you are, oh my gosh. You saw the ponies first!" She backed off, reaching into her back and producing a leafpad. "Can I have your autograph please? Please please please please please pleeeeeeeeeeease?" "Ah...." The astronomer took the leafpad hesitantly. "I... suppose? Um... To my biggest fan... what's your name?" "Diashranba." The astronomer flicked an ear. "Diash...Ranba? Like the pegasus?" "I know, isn't it AWESOME?!" The fan scratched her antennae. "I mean I couldn't just call myself Rainbow Dash cause, you know, that would be CONFUSING but I figured out if I, like, shifted it a bit that would work." Rrrrchickta tilted her head as she finished writing out her message. "How old are you, anyway?" "Oh, I'm three hundred and fourty seven... days," Diashranba admitted. "I know I must seem like just a hatchling to you, but this is just so cool! I had to be here!" "Ha, the exuberance of youth." The astronomer handed the leafpad back, looking over the sheer bounciness and energy the child had, the way she carried herself... she'd named herself after Rainbow Dash, the pony best known for her snap judgments and rash actions. "You're not going to dye your feathers, are you?" "Do you think I should?" "It's your life," Rrrrchickta replied noncommittally. "Good luck keeping it kid," she added under her breath. "Ohyigoshohmygoshohmygosh they're going to be here any minute!" Diashranba rippled her featherscales, chriping in excitement. "I wonder what their spaceship looks like--THERE IT IS! THERE IT IS!" The astronomer looked up to where she was pointing, peripherally aware of the ripple of excitement running through the crowd. A gleam of silver was descending through the clouds-- Where's the entry cone? Why isn't the air heating up? --and rapidly approaching the ground-- That's not a safe trajectory at all! --to wild cheers and chirps from the gathered crowd. ...well, at least I'll die first and not have to suffer whatever happens next. Rrrrchickta rationalized. The explosion should wipe out these tweets too... Just before the silvery gleam reach them, though, it jolted to a sudden stop; the air rippled in one powerful THOOM at the pressure wave, heat rushing through the astronomer's feathers like the sudden pelt of rainwater caught in a broadfern. The Skrofans that had gathered around the base of the poles jumped back, barking to each other in sudden panic. In that moment... in that moment, Rrrrchickta felt her song change forever. No, not her song. The world's song. The object's final descent to the ground was far more slow and relaxed, allowing it to rotate as it slowly hovered down to the prepared landing area. Now that she could see it up close, the astronomer realized that the thing was... a mere archway, a curved bar of unknown metal embedded at regular intervals with what appeared to be... gemstones? The tips of the arch bent sharply, providing two small feet as it finally hit the ground. For a brief moment, nothing happened. Then golden wires burst from the top of the archway, extending and weaving into a complicated filigree as the gemstones lit up from an internal source. A flash of purple appeared in the center, quickly spreading to fill the empty space in a rippling sheet of some unknown form of energy. The filigree pulsed for a moment, and the gemstones flickered in a pattern of increasing agitation... And Celestia herself emerged with a warm, friendly smile.
