Sub Sole Nihil Novum Est

Its host had cancer. Very early, only a few uncontrolled cells, but still there. The invader did not replace these, their damaged genes and uselessness prompted only consumption. The malignant units were well imbedded in the soft tissue of what must have been the host's stomach, far enough from the surface to avoid detection. The fix was easy, a plan long encoded into the alien's very being. Quickly, the cells surrounded the tumor were assimilated, breaking the steady expansion other colonies employed in an attempt to prevent the disease from spreading. In much the same manner as the original invader learned to copy its host's antigens and avoid detection, it would purge the filth that dared threaten its new home.

Tendrils lashed out against the cancerous cells, piercing even the warped membranes with uncanny ease. Exposure to the unhealthy tissue's fluids was all it took to set off a chain reaction in the attacking cells. As soon as the malignant cytoplasm hit the aliens' membranes, apoptosis ensued. The invasive cells ruptured, spilling a substance that would have been toxic to unfamiliar cells. The host would be unaffected, but the parasite's fluids latched onto destructive tissue's surface, and began a chain reaction of suicide, a weapon of massive cell death. In the right dosage, that which kills, cures.

Meanwhile, near the host's genitals, a colony found something needed for further survival: a stem cell. The invader could not produce such cells on its own, and needed them to forge its own reproductive system. The unique body was not assimilated and replaced, so much as enslaved. Like the initial infection, a tendril pierced the cell's outer layer, but very gently injected a reader organelle into the unsuspecting builder. The black ovoid contained not just the tools to read the genes of its host, but also to write. Stealthily, the invasive body nestled against the nucleus, biding it's time until the stem cell's next division.

That patience was needed to combat such a glaring flaw, but reaching fully control was never an intended outcome for an infestation. Under normal circumstances, a host would be colonized by multiple invaders, which would than compete for resources. It was invariably fatal for the host body, often liquifying the soft tissues and leaving any skeleton covered in thick, flammable sludge. Only a rare minority ended up unopposed, reaching maturity in a matter of days or weeks, depending on the host's size and shape. Even then, it did not seek its own kind; the disguises were far too perfect to bother added such a ability to its arsenal.

As such, it did not mate for purposes of reproduction at any point in its life. Dietary needs and chromosome count nearly always prevented it from breeding with the species it mimicked. Spores had to be created from basic materials, although more spores could be released into the wind in hopes of landing on a suitable host. Pandemic levels were nearly impossible; spreading itself became more and more difficult with every generation, not including local the populace's attentions.

The stem cell's nuclear membrane disappeared; it was time to strike.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Caramel was relieved to find he hadn't suffered a concussion, even if the stitches were annoying. Nurse Redheart had tended to him with all the professional graces one would expect from a healthcare provider; the businesslike mare had been so kind as to wash the stallion's eyes for him. Apparently, it had been a slow night.

“And you're sure you didn't ingest any of the meteorite, right?” The white pony had asked that question, in some form or another, at least eight time already, as though the answer would change. This was a formality, in case the head injury had fogged his memory.

“Yes, I'm positive I didn't eat some space rock.” Caramel was being civil, of course, as any stallion would. Still, the amber pony was of the opinion that attention to detail could sometimes obscure the bigger picture. No, he had not heard any ringing in his ears. No, he was not tired or groggy. No, he had no conditions which may be worsened by his recent blow to the head. Really, every trip to the clinic was the same as the last.

“I ask to rule out the possibility of you developing heavy metal poisoning.” Nurse Redheart gave Caramel a tired, understanding smile. Both of them were up later than they would have liked, and this meteor shower was developing into a rather large problem. In the time it took to treat the amber stallion, three more patients had arrived, sporting various injuries. It would greatly benefit the nurse's sanity to stay with Caramel for as long as possible. “Well, we're done, if you have no further complaints.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Twilight Sparkle looked over the meteoric iron with fascination. She had seen the element before, everypony had, but never shaped like this. Regular material crystallized when rapidly cooled; the faster the temperature  drop, the finer the grain. The geometric patterns in the metal were simply fascinating, and reflected light in a multitude of ways whenever she changed her position. It must have melted and just as quickly frozen in the void of space to have looked so beautiful. Still, as much as it pained her, it was an obstruction protruding through the Golden Oaks Library's wall, and had to be removed.

The hunk of space metal slid from it's wooden hold almost too easily, hinting at a sharp edge. The shard was tapered at one end, finer than a needle, and probably thin enough to puncture whatever it touched. The unicorn gently set the large piece of extraterrestrial metal on the floor, ready to observe the specimen much more closely. The hunk was larger than Twilight, and half of it was actually stone of some sort. Part of the librarian's mind giddily pondered the possibility of the bit of iron being from some distant planet rather than some wandering meteor. The rock portion was actually fitted against the iron like a puzzle piece, hinting at a similar origin.

It snapped off without the unicorn doing anything, and broke in half when it collided with the wooden floor. While normally a cause for alarm, the rock proved to hold a wealth it hadn't hinted at before then. Glittering, neon blue crystals shimmered in the candlelight, almost possessing a light of their own.

“I want to eat them, but I don't.” Spike had an internal conflict over tasting the alien gems. On one claw, he would probably be the first dragon to ever consume something from space. However, it might turn him into a bodysnatcher like in that movie he and Twilight had seen last summer. Well, the alien in The Thingie had come in a spaceship, not a geode, so that gave him cause to grow slightly hungry at the tantalizing sight.

“Spike, we don't even know if these are toxic or not.” The purple unicorn cast a slightly annoyed look at her adoptive little brother. While it was unlikely, the possibility remained that the gems have been poisonous in some way or fashion. This was definitely within the realm of scholars, and most certainly something to be kept from baby dragons, regardless of their maturity. A gentle tap against her door drew Twilight's attention from the extraterrestrial geode.

“Twilight Sparkle, I need a word.” That was a voice she hadn't been expecting, and the lavender mare practically ran to make sure it was who she thought it was. Princess Luna stood in the doorway, flanked by four of her Nightguard. “I am pleased to see you are unharmed.”

“And you as well, Princ-... Luna.” Twilight stumbled for only a moment before she remembered the princess's preferences. The unicorn was met with a semi-stifled giggle from the ruler. The Element Bearer could not help but notice the alicorn's eyes lance to the space rock every chance she got. “Would you like to come in?”

“Ah, yes, thank you, Twilight. Though I trust you know why I'm here?” The princess gave her sister's apprentice a teasing, amused look. While still serious when times called for it, Luna was an easygoing mare, and enjoyed more personal time than Celestia. This leisure gave rise to a growing penchant for pranks. However, she rarely enjoyed conversations with other ponies with whom she could discuss the night and astronomy.

“The explosion?” Twilight asked sheepishly, as though it was somehow her fault. Princess Luna solemnly nodded, already aware of the injuries caused by the event. There were thankfully no deaths, but quite a bit of property damage. “Was there something unusual about it? Did magic cause it?”

“No, it's just something that happens on occasion, though I won't hesitate to say it is most unusual. Normally, they don't contain crystals.” The alicorn motion with her head, pointing in the general direction of the split geode. Even Twilight was willing to believe the minerals had something strange about them, but there was nothing supernatural or fearsome that she could sense. “In fact, I can't recall a single occasion when a meteorite bore anything other than metal and stone.”

“Is there something wrong with them, then?” The crystals were in her home, so the unicorn had more than a right to know what sparked the diarch's curiosity. Normally, this wouldn't have rated a full royal inquiry, but here Princess Luna was, ready to go. “They're not radioactive, right?”

“No, but I’m not quite sure what they are.” On a whim, the Princess of Night went about fixing that little problem. Sensing no harm in it, she snapped the tip off one of the crystalline spires finding them oddly brittle. It was strange that the deposits could survive atmospheric impact, yet crumble at the touch. The blue stones were not minerals at all. In fact, they answered a question that had been raging for decades. There was the faintest flicker of something more than cold blankness, a feeling a magic wielder experienced when scanning an object from deep space. No, there was something almost magical about this, encoded with the most powerful reagent in all creation. “Twilight, I think you have just proven the existence of aliens.”

“I don't follow.” Twilight was justifiably stumped at the revelation. After all, it was a long jump from alien crystals to extraterrestrial life. Still, she supposed it was possible, on a microscopic scale, for living being to survive on distant worlds. Invading space monsters with ray guns was a bit of a stretch, but thankfully Princess Luna wasn't suggesting anything near something so ludicrous.

“Perhaps it would be better for you to see for yourself.” The blue alicorn held her fragment toward the purple unicorn, who had absolutely no idea what she should do. The only material she knew that would react in any noticeable way was blood, and only dragon's blood crystallized when it dry. Hesitantly, Twilight's magic took hold of the alien material, and felt the very same spark. Indeed, it contained the essence of life, though eons old and slightly stale from its containment. “I am considering using visceromancy to find what its owner saw in its final moments, though it would be more interesting to know how its blood ended up so far from home.”

“I almost ate blood? Ew!” Spike was more than disgusted at the idea, though being a child, something else struck his mind. “I almost ate crystal alien blood; awesome!”

“Well, shall we, Twilight Sparkle?”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Its host was sleeping, or possibly hibernating. Neural taps revealed diminished activity near every colony, though internal organs remained near full speed. The stem cell was fully serving the invader now, and lay dormant until needed. The host's digestive sac was close to full compliance, and the tubular organ that stretched from one end was next on the list. There were colonies of other microbes contained within the host, each with their own roles. There was likely a mutual advantage that rose from the partnership. This dual existence was a bit puzzling; the invader was designed to eliminate competition but there was nothing coded within its genes that specified proper use of a host's relations in the natural order.

Until a better conclusion could be drawn, the bacteria would live. Sapience would be required for such decision making, and it thankfully wouldn't take much more biomass. Once the facial and gastrointestinal colonies joined, there would be enough cells to form the network, and the other Colonies would be joined as they expanded. But the extra energy would require increases in consumption, which may draw attention to the invader. Programming indicated this was an acceptable risk, and the growth was allowed to continue.