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0610 HOURS
ABOARD THE HMS ILLUSTRIOUS
NORTH SEA, OFF THE NORWEGIAN COASTLINE, BOUND FOR KARELIA
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Princess Celestia of Equestria was used to being held prisoner. Surprisingly so, for an ultra-powerful princess ruling over a nation of harmony and light, which in turn was known all over the world for its power and magical prowess. There was the changeling invasion, Tirek’s attack on Equestria, Prince Umbra’s Rebellion of 349. Yes, there had been a whole mess of different scenarios that she could have gone on about for hours, detailing the different accommodations she had received in each (changeling cocoon, the summit of a dark mountain in Tartarus, and a leather BDSM outfit with spreader bars, in that order), but this was the first time she had been held in a land as strange as this.

From the moment she had woken, she hadn't been able to sense even a scrap of magic anywhere around her, although that could have been the restraints. Some weird metal tube was clamped around her horn, locked in place in such a way that no matter how hard she tried to scrape it off, it never even budged. It almost seemed made for an alicorn’s horn, feeling it. So did these creatures have experience with alicorns? Or more accurately, with restraining alicorns? There was a scary thought: these creatures had experience with ponies, and yet she hadn’t even seen a single pony since being bought to this place. She prayed this was just because she hadn’t seen much of anything of this land or its people. She’d only woken up while being dragged along a hallway by two of the creatures wearing cloth masks, her hooves bound and the ring locked around her horn. She hadn’t attempted conversation. The way her captors carried themselves just screamed “soldiers." Probably under orders not to talk with her, too, and based on the sheer ferocity of the attack, there was a good chance any attempt at conversation would have ended in a blow someplace where it would hurt.

She pulled at the metal casts locked around her legs that kept her bolted to the floor, and as with the previous attempts, she got nothing. Whatever metal this was, it had to be incredibly powerful. Ugh, if she could only stretch out her wings, they desperately needed a good crack! But the chains binding them didn’t have an ounce of give in them, probably made of the same metal as the casts. These creatures were thorough, she would give them that much. It might take even one such as her years to escape, if it was possible at all. At the very least, they could have allowed her some mobility to clamp her hooves into her ears. The beeping from the collar around her neck was driving her nuts!

She scanned deeper into the room, at the clear box surrounding her on all sides that looked like glass, but was too strong to be glass. At the strange, whirring and beeping doodads and lights that seemed to be watching her somehow, as if a few beams of light could track her. At the miles of tiny, little cables that seemed to hold it all together, but at some points came loose, so that wasn’t right…what were all these little cables for, then? And why did they run to every little gadget in the room, to the corners of her box, up from slots in the floor and in the shadows, just everywhere she looked? At least the gadgets supplied some light: otherwise she’d be standing in total darkness with nothing but that infernal beeping!

Keeping herself occupied, her mind wondered back to the initial attack that saw her imprisoned. She remembered the objects rolling out of the portal, then white light, and then pain, but that was all. Just what had been the motivation for such a brutal raid? The precursor for an all-out invasion? She shivered at that thought. If that was these creatures’ intent, they were off to a great start. Technology that could nullify magic and the kidnapping of their targets’ leader: she couldn’t even think of a better way to begin a war. Why, she wouldn’t be surprised if Canterlot had been overrun by now. Horrified, of course, but not surprised.

Something shifted in the darkness beyond the circle of lights and beeping. She braced herself for what was to come. What tortures would she be subjected to in this prison? What would these creatures want? In fact, what would they even look like? She only knew that they were bipedal and possessed fingers. Like diamond dogs, but much less bulky. Whatever was hiding under that armor was still a complete mystery. What was under there? Hideous, tentacle-covered faces? Insect-like mandibles? What horror-movie looks would be staring at her in mere moments?

Whatever it might be, she could not afford to recoil, could not afford to show any sign of disgust whatsoever, no matter how hideous they might look to her. There might still be a chance to salvage the situation, and helpless as she was, she needed every diplomatic advantage she could get her hooves on. No matter the situation, she still needed to play the game of diplomacy for her little ponies. She would meet her enemy’s eyes as equals, even if those eyes were compound or at the end of slug-like stalks. Surely they would understand that, these creatures still had to have some good in them.

A tapping noise echoed throughout the chamber, growing closer. She held her breath, her heart beating in her chest, only slowed by a conscious effort she’d perfected through centuries of meditation. A figure stepped into the dim light, clad in a tan shirt, black pants, and impeccably shiny black shoes. Okay, so they had a sense for fashion. That would be great news for Miss Rarity. If she ever saw her again.

The creature stepped lightly, the heels on its handsome shoes tapping away as its head ducked into the light. For a second, she saw the monstrosities in her mind made real, tentacles writhing out of a misshapen head, surveying her with beady, predatory eyes. But then her mind adjusted to what she was seeing and revealed…

Actually, it was rather cute.

Now, it wasn’t as adorable as, say, one of those parasprite pests, but it had these colorful eyes that were small without being beady, much like a newborn foal’s, and there was a little tuft of hair on its head. Aww, and there was even some fuzz on its hands, and a teeny, weeny, button nose!

Recomposing herself, Celestia met the creatures widdle...little eyes and cleared her throat. "I am Princess Celestia of Equestria," she announced. "You have attacked a sovereign nation without declaration of war and without provocation."

Suddenly, the creature's eyes ignited with rage unlike any she had ever seen. For a second, it was not the cute, bipedal monkey that had walked into the room. It was some horrible predator from the dawn of time created for nothing more than destroying anything that got in its way, aimed at nothing short of total destruction. Then the cute little monkey was back, as if nothing had happened to it.

"You're one to talk," it muttered.

”Keep it together,” a tiny, buzz-filled voice said, so small she could barely hear it. The creature nodded once and held one hand over its head, its thumb and forefinger closed in a circle. She didn’t know what that symbol could mean, but knew it had to be a signal to more of its kind.

We’re being watched, she realized. Still, that just distracted from a massive revelation: despite being a completely alien species, she had understood this creature perfectly well. "You speak?" She asked.

"It's some magic voodoo horseshit," the creature replied, pulling a small chair out of the darkness and setting it up right in front of her. It crossed its legs as it sat, eyeing her coldly with its fleshy hands folded in its lap. "Whatever magic created the portal between our worlds also allows you to speak in the most commonly-spoken tongue of wherever it is you appear. Hence, English."

"English," she said, playing with the way the word rolled off her tongue. It did have a catchy sort of cadence to it, even if it was utterly meaningless to her. "Alright, I can understand you, and you can understand me, does your species have a name?"

The creature looked at her, its eyebrows hunching. "Humans," it replied, as if her question had revealed something extraordinary.

"Humans..." she said, again playing with the word. "Now, may I assume you humans all have names?"

"You may."

"May I know your name?"

"No."

Something was wrong. This creature was being overtly hostile. Was it biased against quadrupeds, perhaps? Or it could be the magic thing. She sensed no magic within it, while even Earth ponies from her home held at least some residual traces of magic absorbed from the environment around them. Did this world have no magic? That could explain some of the reactions she had received here. Magic could be quite frightening to a species that had none, and she knew how powerful a weapon it could be in the wrong hooves. Perhaps these humans knew that too, hence the fear. "I can assure you that, no matter your assumptions, we wish no harm upon your species."

"So you say," the creature replied, its arms crossing in front of its chest.

Hold on, she was going about this all wrong. There was something else going on here: that was obvious now that she focused on the human. Her eyebrows furrowed as she faced the creature down, her confusion growing as her keen senses drank in every motion and every little twitch of muscle on the human’s face. "Why are you so afraid of me?" She asked.

The creature looked taken aback, nearly falling out of its chair. "Who says I'm afraid of you?" It spat, though the quivering in its voice told her all she needed to know.

"You do: the narrowed pupils, the reserved speech, the way you were sitting so far back in your chair that you almost fell out of it just now," she continued by trying to meet his gaze, only to watch his pupils dart away almost imperceptibly, just enough to avoid making direct eye contact. "You're doing your best to avoid eye contact...combine that with the fact that these restraints were obviously made specifically for alicorns, and I can only conclude that there has been some traumatic encounter between our species in the past."

The creature stared at her, eyes nearly bugging out of his skull. She had to fight to suppress a smile. She didn't get to show off the intellect she'd built up over the centuries often, but when she did, it always left everyone reeling. “Or perhaps you would like to tell me your name?” She asked, knowing what the answer would have to be.

”Holy motherfuck,” the buzzy little voice whispered.

“D-Dave,” he replied, sitting back up in his chair. He was very good at hiding his fear. Supremely good, in fact, keeping his emotions buried with the kind of skill it would take years of training to attain. Assuming, of course, these humans lived for years, like her little ponies. Either way, there was no hiding it from a being that had needed to read the ponies hiding behind titles and lordships that she had dealt with for the past millennium. “My name is…David.”

“David,” she played with the word on her tongue again. “Odd, seemingly meaningless, but then, meaning can always be disguised.”

He said nothing, making it a point to keep staring at her through the glass that wasn’t glass with those cold, fierce eyes, (though never directly into her eyes, she noticed). “Does this place have a name, David? Can you tell me the name of your lands?”

”Go ahead,” the buzzy little voice said.

“You’re on Earth,” he replied. “And as for where on Earth, well, I’m afraid that’s privileged information.”

She frowned, not even bothering to play with that word. Her language already possessed a word just like it for a certain race of ponies: a link she would have to investigate at some other time. She watched patiently as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small, light-blue notebook. She squinted at it, seeing a logo that consisted of landmasses and forms she didn't recognize, as well as lettering that was, at once, both totally alien and recognizable. UNCDI? She thought. What in Equestria could that be?

“We have some questions for you, and you are gonna answer them,” he said, his voice stern, but still wavering with that slight tinge of fear amplified by the metal walls.

She shrugged and motioned with a nod for him to continue. “Ask away.”

“What are your intentions with Earth and its populace?”

She furrowed her eyebrows at that, honestly confused. “None. We didn’t even know this place existed until a few hours ago! Or…however long ago it was since you 'procured’ me.”

The human nodded, marking down her choice of words in his notebook. She took the time to evaluate her surroundings. If this human was here, there had to be more, perhaps standing in the shadows, evaluating her every move. She made sure to stand as tall as her bindings would allow, her wings stretching as far as possible to make her already imposing frame appear even larger. She could only hope this would help her.

“Next question,” he said as his pen ceased movement on the little pad of paper. “What do you know about the presence of other alicorns in your Equestria?”

Her teeth clenched, her jawline visibly tightening for only a moment. The names of three of the most important ponies in the world to her rushed through her mind, before she shoved them away. They couldn’t know. She wouldn’t allow them to target the ones she loved. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. Other alicorns, you say?”

“Oh?” The human arched an eyebrow, a smug smile crossing his face. Not a mean smile, mind you, but the sort of look one gets that just screams "checkmate."

“And what of the other alicorn we captured? The smaller, purple one?” He asked, that smug smile never leaving his features.

For the first time in over three centuries, Celestia’s heart skipped a beat. A cold finger of dread washed through her body, and she trembled. Whether it was this, or the stress of the past day, or the knock to the head she’d taken when she was first kidnapped, her entire façade came crashing down as her head bowed and she shrieked, “DON’T HURT HER! PLEASE!”

Once again, the human nearly fell out of his chair, his arms and legs splaying out comically in his surprise. He blinked at her a few times as she fought to regain her composure, struggling to retain her stance, then he sat up again, leaning a bit more forward in his chair than he had been. Celestia, for her part, rapidly regained the confident posture and air she had held and switched into damage control as swiftly as possible.

“That pony…is…responsible for quite a few administrative affairs back in the palace,” she said. “I’m just not sure what I’d do without her.” There. Usually, a lie sprinkled with the truth was the most believable. Hopefully, her outburst wouldn’t seal Twilight’s fate as a way for the humans to get to Celestia, because if it had and she’d just doomed her student to Heaven-knows-what torture, that would be it. She would be finished. She wouldn’t be able to stand Twilight’s screams if they were piped into the room, she would give in, she would crack, she couldn’t stand…

Celestia shoved the thought into the back of her mind as the creature nodded. “We will do our best to make sure her internment here is as comfortable as possible,” he said. “And just so you know, that same courtesy will be extended to you.”

Though I have no idea why… he so obviously wanted to say. Oh sure, the fear was still there, but hatred was welling up now. Each moment that passed where she didn’t do anything was, apparently, helping to abate his fear, only for hate to rush right into its place. The way he looked at her now, she felt like the slimiest, most disgusting insect ever seen, crawling across someone’s dinner plate.

Maker above, she thought. As far as she was concerned, this human apparently had two settings: nearly cowering with fear, and visibly trying to imagine how many times he could stab her with his pen before being stopped by the other humans waiting nearby. But why!? What could ponies have done that might be so terrible!?

“Next question,” the human continued, keeping his eyes on the paper as much as possible, if only to remain focused on the task at hand. “What do you know about the process used to force a human to turn into a pony and its negative effects upon the psyche of the affected individual?”

Her frame nearly shrank at that, her façade of power dropping for a heartbeat just in sheer surprise. “What was that?”

His eyes darted to her, then back to the paper. “I said…”

“No, no, I have it,” she replied, studying him closely. “You said you had a way to transform a totally alien creature into a pony?”

His eyes widened, his lips pulling in over his teeth. He looked up at her, then back at the notepad, then back at her, before he all but threw himself out of his chair. “We’re…uh…we’re done here, good day.” He said quickly before heading for the door.

“No, wait, WAIT!” She called after his retreating form, a thousand years’ worth of political wisdom and maneuvering flying out the window as her head spun with questions. “What was that about forcing a human to turn into a pony!?” He didn’t even turn, still barreling for the door.

“What about the other alicorn!? The purple one!? Her name is Twilight Sparkle!” She called, hoping that some small detail would not only satisfy the human’s need for information, but also endear her beloved student to her captors. But still, the human stormed away.

Finally, practically out of cards to play, Celestia desperately screamed: “What did we do that was so terrible!?”

The human stopped abruptly. His hand clenched the pad of paper until his knuckles turned white. That tiny, buzzing voice returned, only now it was just a faint hum from where she stood. After a few minutes of standing there, his back to her, his entire body tensing and relaxing repeatedly, the human spoke, its voice faintly shaking, but with an iron beneath the surface that spoke of a placid ocean surface moments before a predatory shark broke the surface.

“Nothing much,” he said. “Just betrayed our trust, promised us a new era of peace, and then immediately tried to use your incredible powers to wipe us out, except that didn’t work, see? We were smarter than you. So you had to settle for the booby prize.”

“Booby prize?” She asked, unable to keep the tense shake from her own voice. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t respond, just strode right out into the darkness, his shoes tapping against the ground until they faded behind the pneumatic whine of a door somewhere whirring open and slamming shut again. Once again, Celestia was left alone with her thoughts, only now even more questions buzzed through her mind. What did these humans want? What did they mean by a “process” for turning them into ponies? How was that even possible? If she were to be really honest with herself, though, she would know these questions were only there to distract her from the one she needed answered, the one she knew would drive her mad if she wandered about it too long:

What are they doing to Twilight? Oh Maker above…what in Equestria could they possibly want with her?

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David stepped through the door, listened to the pneumatic whirr and hiss of twelve-hundred pounds of titanium steel slide into place, and nearly collapsed onto the floor. As it was, he just barely managed to keep himself supported on his hands and knees, panting like a dog onto the white tile. "Oh God," he gasped as the second door to the airlock whirred open. "Oh Jesus Christ..."

"You did good, kid," Anton said, stepping into the lock and offering his hand, which Dave gladly accepted. "A lot better than most would have."

"I think I'm gonna puke," Dave replied.

"You’re not gonna puke, just sit,” Anton said, motioning for him to enter. As Dave pressed himself back to his feet, consciously reminding himself how to walk, the Russian added, “Oh, before you go in…” he motioned to his ear.

“Right,” Dave reached behind his ear and handed over the little plastic bud. “And thanks for the advice. Probably helped keep my sanity in there.”

The Russian nodded and stood aside to let him pass. Dave walked in on legs that quaked like the San Andreas fault during a meteor shower, but still managed to cross the threshold and reach the plush carpeting of the control room. Once again, he felt oddly comforted by the room, set up more like a living area than some ultra-secret military containment facility. Most of the others were seated in the leather armchairs gathered in a circle around an oak coffee table, arranged before a massive flatscreen TV (which only received CSPAN, CNN, and FOX, he'd checked). Honestly, between the stainless steel fridge stocked with water bottles and fresh fruit, the mahogany conference table that dominated the floor, and the fake wooden paneling along the walls, the only thing that felt out of place was the massive airlock leading into the cell he'd just left and the control panel set in the wall next to it, both of which looked like they'd be more at home at Cape Canaveral than here.

As his stomach settled, the American made a beeline for one of the recliners, ignoring the young Latino man who stood at the control panel, as most in the office were accustomed to doing. He might have noticed the intensity with which the young man glared at nothing in particular, gazing over the dials and knobs and gauges with a look of hatred so intense it would have made Dave do a double-take, but at that moment, Felipe was just another part of the background noise, not even worth looking at until the American could get something soft and expensive between him and the ground.

He collapsed into an empty recliner, sticking a leg up on an armrest as he was so accustomed to doing on his own couch at home. He let his breath out in a long sigh, his eyes closing, his fingers pressing into them. As he sat, Lisa reached over and flicked a little switch on a small speaker box sitting on the table. Dave grimaced. “Didja guys get all that?”

“Every word,” Lisa replied. “As I’m sure the men upstairs did as well.”

“Great,” he groaned, sitting up and letting out another sigh. “I know Anton tried to doll it up a little, so how did I do? Really?”

“You…did not piss yourself. That’s something!” Liu said encouragingly.

“That bad, huh?”

“Maybe, and maybe not,” Anton said, striding over to join the group. “We all heard her reaction to that last question, right?”

“Of course,” Akshat said, his arms and legs crossed as he sat up straight in his armchair. His brow was furrowed with either worry, concentration, or a combination of both. “If we are to believe what we all just heard, this version of Celestia has no knowledge of the crimes of her predecessor.”

“That is a big ‘if’,” Franz put in. “We all know how damned smart she is. She could just as easily be faking.”

Dave closed his eyes again, steadying himself, controlling his breath the way he’d been trained in Basic. His mind circled back to the final moments of the interrogation, highlighting every tiny detail from the blinking of the thermal scanners locked on the prisoner to the way her shoulders rose and fell with each breath. Most of all, he recalled the look of surprise in her widened eyes at the moment he informed her of The Potion, the way her breath paused for a moment, the questions she had asked immediately after. “I don’t know,” he said. “Her reaction seemed genuine.”

“For once, I must agree with my German counterpart,” Andre said, his legs crossed, his chin held thoughtfully in his hand. “Loathe as I am to admit it, the Princess has had over a thousand years to perfect her ability to lie right to our faces. Surely, she could feign surprise well enough to fool us.”

“I still don’t…”

A deep thud, followed by the shattering of glass, cut the conversation short. David’s heart leapt into his chest as, for a terrible moment, he believed that thud had been one of the restraints around the prisoner’s cell giving way, or one of the Tachyon Inhibitors keeping her magic suppressed shorting out. Instead, he turned and found Felipe standing at the control panel, his fist knuckles-deep in one of the glass gauges. Even from where he sat, Dave could see blood sprouting out in tiny streams and dribbles where the shattered glass had broken through skin.

“Oh Felipe, honey, here,” Lisa gasped, springing to her feet and heading for the console.

“Let me take a look at that,” Anton said, striding up next to her as she reached under the panel for the first aid kit. Of course, David didn’t question this. It was standard practice in all NATO ships to have a first aid kit underneath every control panel large enough to hide it, and that Lisa knew this never struck him as odd. He did think it a bit odd to watch Anton gingerly remove Felipe’s closed fist from the shattered display and begin analyzing it with the placid, analytical eye of a combat medic, but he quickly shoved this back as one of those things the Russian was just good at.

“Here,” Anton said flatly, reaching into the kit as Lisa held it open in her arms. “We’re lucky. You didn’t open any veins or tear any muscle tissue. Looks like you just cut open skin over fatty deposits. The damage shouldn’t be that bad.”

For a few moments, Felipe didn’t respond. He just kept studying an empty patch of carpet somewhere off to the side with a tired, vacant look, even as the first painful drops of iodine were squeezed onto his hand. Eventually, he half-mumbled, half-whispered: “The damage is already done.”

The pair kept working as the others fell strangely silent, David included, watching as the last few layers of gauze were wrapped around Felipe's fist. "There we go," Lisa said, giving the wrapping a final pat. "Is that better?"

"Better..." Felipe gazed off into space, his rich, dark eyes locking on to nothing in particular. Lisa's smile faded as the moments crawled by before he finally spoke up again. "She was supposed to be better."

"Who?" Lisa cocked an eyebrow at him, then her gaze drifted to the airlock door. "Oh...you mean...oh, honey."

She smiled and leaned in to wrap her arms around his shoulders, immediately making Dave feel grateful that there was at least one woman in the group. Sexist or not, there was a marked difference between a comforting hug from a woman and the awkward pats on the back from a male friend trying his best to console you in the least homoerotic way possible. “I think we all expected something a bit different from a pretty pony princess from another dimension. Or, at least, something other than genocidal rage.”

Felipe just shook his head, his entire body tensing. "No, she was supposed to be the paragon of light! She was supposed to be the wise ruler of all Equestria! She was supposed to be better than everything and everyone, this wonderful, awesome…this…”

He trailed off, his vacant eyes finally wondering over the airlock, as if trying to memorize every rivet, every ding, the way the light shone off the gray metal, everything he could about the door. "We shouldn’t be standing here, debating whether or not she’s lying to us. None of this should have ever happened. This isn't right...this wasn't..."

Seeing a lull in his tirade, Anton circled around to meet the Brazilian's eyes with what he hoped look like a comforting smile. "My friend, perhaps I should inspect your hand?" Anton pointed at his closed fist. "You're clenching it rather tightly. Perhaps you still feel some pain there?”

Felipe's eyes darted wide open as he cradled the clenched fist to his chest like an infant. He pursed his lips, shaking his head.

“My friend, if you are cut, then we must close the wound,” Anton insisted, reaching for the closed fingers again.

“Not this wound!” Felipe gasped, taking a step back. Everyone in the room gawked at him, and his lips pursed again. “I mean…no, just not now. It’s fine. Really, nothing to be concerned with.”

Anton looked the younger man over, trying to lock eyes with Felipe even as the Brazilian looked side to side, always averting his gaze. He was hiding something; it couldn’t have been more obvious if a question mark tattoo lit with LEDs had appeared in the center of his forehead. Before the Russian could press on, however, the speaker phone in the center of the control panel crackled to life.

Anton kept his gaze on the younger man, still glaring even as the electronic ringing cried out in all their ears. Still keeping his eyes on Felipe, he slowly reached over and pressed the button to activate the speaker. This isn’t over. Far from it. Those eyes said.

Felipe just smiled at him, the death grip on the mysterious object in his hands relaxing. For him, it was.

“Da?” Anton asked.

“I don’t care what the hell happened,” the voice of the Admiral crackled from the other side, distorted by some of the most sophisticated encryption methods on the planet but still easily identifiable to every man and woman in the room. “Somebody talked, and I wanna know who, and I want his or her balls served to me on a silver feckin’ platter come dinner!...Whazzat? Girls don’t have balls? Congratu-fuckin’-lations, Einstein, you want a fuckin’ gold star?”

“Um…hello?” Anton repeated, visibly trying to stifle laughter.

“Fuckin’ hell, almost forgot I called you lot!” The Admiral returned. “Yeah, you got a nice, big surprise headin’ your way, thought I’d give ya a heads up! You’re gonna hafta deal with ‘im, I’ve gotta figure out how in the fuck he found out we’ve got the Solar Princess onboard!”

“He?” Dave stepped away from Felipe, walking up to the speaker. “Sir? Who’s he?”

“Izzat the Yank? Aw hell, it don’t matter: it’s Shining Armor! The fuckin’ Prince of Equestria is headin’ your way right now, and he looks like he’s got a bone to pick with you-know-who! Take a guess as to why! Good luck, you lot!” And then the intercom clicked off.

A stunned silence fell over the room, lasting a solid five minutes. No one talked. No one moved. David felt weird just breathing.

“Well, shit,” Felipe said eventually.

Author's Notes:

At last, I know.

Sorry for the wait on this, guys. It took a while to figure out what I needed here, and then commit it to paper. Hopefully, the next chapters should come more easily

Thank my prereader, DJK, for this :) Without them, I'm not sure if I would have gotten this right.