Day Five of Seven

Uggghhhh! What a weird fucking dream! I can't begin to understand half of what went on…

Klaxons blare all throughout the facility. As I run, several others in the House of Praetorian rush around with me, some still slipping into techno-kinetic combat armor. The Ancillary Unit in charge of Harvest Station is repeating the report from Nexus: a massive energetic surge was detected from the center of Bedlam Woods. Spikes run all across the spectrum. My heart beats in triple time, and I wonder, not for the first time, why I ever considered transferring from House of Intelligentsia to House of Praetorian. I'm as much as artist as I am a soldier. Still, the Empire needs me; I would be remiss in answering it's summons.

Upon entering Central Command, I see that Valeria standing at the Console, coordinating with the command of troopers nearest to Bedlam. Atlas House is investigating as well, but they are too far away at the moment. I give her a slight nod while I retrieve my particle plasma rifle and electron blade. I doubt that the anomaly is any danger to the Empire, it's sudden appearance could be trouble politically, though. The House of Proletariat is always looking for an excuse to wage a war…

"Hail, Ambrose." Valeria calls to me.

"Well met, Valeria," I reply, "it isn't a morning until a crisis calls, eh? What have we this morn?"

Valeria frowns and calls up the holographic display. She then informs me of the issue:

"About a standard hour ago, members of the Energy Bureau detected a sizable discharge of ambient particles at coordinates one-two-eight mark six-three-four, Grid Seven. Spikes from the emissions are off the scale. Alpha, Gamma, Theta, Omega and Phi emissions are surpassing any known reading. Intelligentsia is suggesting we have a Surge Break."

"Surge Break?" I question, "Valeria, you must jest! The last time a Surge Break occurred, those Goddess awful lizards emerged. House Caduceus spent years pouring over the bodies of the dead!"

Valeria shrugs, "I wish I had better news, but the signals are relatively similar. The Surge Break is small in origin, but the energy dispersal is spectrum wide. I need your team to investigate."

Sighing, I relent, "For the Honour, Glory, and Sovereignty of the Empire, it shall be done."

I turn to see my team already assembled in tactical armoured carapace. As professional as ever, given our ofttimes strange assignments.

"Gentle Folk, we have report of a Surge Break deep inside the Wood of Bedlam. The energy transmissions are off the scale, so temper your armour with ray shielding, level ten. I don't think I have to remind you of the last time a Surge Break like this happened?"

One of my troopers, a slight young woman with a Specialty Weapons Badge on her shoulder says, "Those dragyns emerged… Should we go for particle shielding, too, My Lord?"

"Nay," I answer, "whatever is causing the disturbance is relatively small, albeit it's dispersing energies across the whole of the spectrum. I want full radiation countermeasures before touchdown. Understood?"

My team replies, in unison, "Heard, Understood, Accepted."

"Excellent," I beam, "rotors up in five. Make the wind envious."

A half hour passes before the Albatross VTOL we ride descends on Bedlam Wood. It is called such because the flora and fauna here are tamer than in any forest within the Empire. The climate, though, is often chaotic. It's not unusual for a freak twister or sudden thunderstorm to break out over these woods. The sky this dawn is as turbulent as always; the winds are gusting past sixty knots and sandy particulate is striking heavily against the fuselage.

"Lords and Ladies," calls out the pilot, "we have just arrived at the drop zone. Winds are strong, so keep low to avoid detritus. We have your disturbance at mark eight-seven-two by one-seven-nine."

"Copy," I reply, "House of Praetorian, fall out!"

My squad and I hit the ground as a powerful gust hits the drop zone. No sooner do my own feet touch Earth do my sensors pick up the disturbance. My compass ring points out the direction the pilot indicated, but now shows where the trouble is emanating from at least twenty meters away on the diagonal. I point in that direction and we march off.

Ahead of us is a structure. The building is a long abandoned House of Mason campus. They were trying to coax medicines out of the local flora but to no avail. The Proletariat pulled the funding for their research and they filed back to the Capitol. My sensors give me a false-color reading from the very center of the building. This looks ominous…

"Overwatch," calls my platoon sergeant, Castor, "check those corners."

As pairs peel off from the squad, I catch up with my Sergeant and decide on a private chat.

"Tell me, Castor," I say, "does this feel at all frightening to you?"

"Aye," Castor confirms, "I pray it isn't those dragyns. I was there when Bountiful was razed. I'll never get the smell of burning flesh out of my nose."

"I'm going to scout ahead," I tell him, "have Alpha and Beta Lance on standby. If things get hairy, get Gamma and Delta Lance in and neutralize any- opposition."

"Yes, My Lord," Castor says, "by the by, are you checking these readings?"

"Aye," I reply, "Alpha is off scale. So are Theta and Sigma. Omega is fluctuating so badly, I don't think the register is capable of reading it anymore."

"A psionic event?" Castor asks me.

"Likely," I answer, "but we need to confirm."

It's then that I march into the building. The place is eerie in the worst way. The House of Mason usually kept immaculately clean facilities, but time and tide have allowed Nature to take over here. Thick tendrils of ivy coat the walls; cracks are creeping up the concrete walls and onto the ceiling. The power generator has long since failed, but the event we are investigating seems to give power to the remaining lighting. As I move down corridors and descend staircases, I see stuttering flashes made by faulty luminescence panels.

Then, just as I am nearing the source of today's crisis, my sensors read that it has stopped. Ahead of me, the luminescence panels go dark. I kick on my portable torches on my shoulder just to cut through the gloom. As I do so, the active motion detection ring on my heads up display goes live. Something is in the room with me…

"Hail fellow!" I call, "We come in peace."

More movement, coming from my ten o'clock and quickly.

"Do not be alarmed," I call out, "we are here only to investigate a disturbance."

I have to admit to myself that my appearance does not engender much confidence. Clad in fully assembled tactical armoured carapace, wielding a particle plasma rifle, I might instill abject horror to simpler minds. It's then I notice the the motion detector has spotted movement again, from behind me. And moving slower… I turn to the source of the movement, slowly and with great caution.

Standing in one of the portals of the room is a pony. It is not like any pony I have ever seen before, though. The body is slim, the eyes wide and expressive, the posture one of both curiosity and fright. Most intriguing about this creature is the protuberance sprouting from the forehead. It spirals from it's base to the tip of the horn. Said tip is almost as sharp as a sonic pike head. I trust not to scare it further.

"'Tis alright, little one." I say soothingly, "no harm shall come to you."

"Who-" the creature says much to my astonishment, "Who- are you?"

The creatures voice is feminine. Would I be right in assuming this pony is a mare?

"Who- Who am I?" I question.

The horned pony nods, "Yes, who are you? What are you?"

"I am Ambrose, from the House Praetorian, of the Terran Empire. I am a soldier in service to his Matron."

"Are you-?" the pony asks, "Are you a pony?"

"A- pony?" I reply, "No, no, I am a human."

"Hoo-man?" the pony says.

"Yes, Human." I confirm, "Praytell, who are you, little pony?"

"Who am I?" the pony asks, "I am Astraeus."

The pony Astraeus then turns it's head, looking back down the corridor that that I assume she emerged from.

"Eos, Eos!" she calls, "Come. There is no threat."

From behind Astraeus comes another pony. This one is absent a horn, but what alarms me is that it sports wings. Following in the wake of this Eos, is a smaller pony, bearing both horn and wings. How very curious… A foal, mayhaps, maybe their offspring?

"Darling, is all well?" Eos questions; it's voice is masculine so an assumption of this one being a stallion wouldn't be far off.

"Yes," Astraeus confirms, "and we have a visitor."

Eos looks me up and down, a look of consternation on his face.

"He is not a pony." Eos says with a huff.

"No, Beloved," Astraeus says, "He is a hoo-man."

Astraeus then bends down to the little foal sitting besides Eos. She nuzzles the little pony motherly.

"Celestia, can you say 'hoo-man?'"

The little foal Celestia does nothing but gurgle, her muzzle clamped onto a protein stick no doubt nicked from stores in the cafeteria.

"She is still young, Astraeus," Eos says, then adds disdainfully, "She should not be exposed to this- beast."

I'm affronted, but show no sign of it.

"I assure you, sir, we mean no harm." I say, "We, my squad and I, are investigating a strange electromagnetic phenomenon. Our equipment says it's-"

I was going to say "here," but at that very moment, the foal named Celestia had her horn light up. The register in my armor lights up again, just as it had before. The signature was the same. Now I knew the source. I watched as the foal jabbered, eyes locked on a familiar object: my knife.

"It seems Tia has found a new toy." Astraeus coos.

"Not my first choice," I say, "Is she doing that?"

Astraeus and Eos look upon their child; it is Eos who answers, "Yes, she certainly is. She takes after her mother in that regard."

I look to both the unicorn and the Pegasus and say, "With a attitude of thanksgiving, I welcome you to the Terran Empire."

Like I said, strange dream…

I have only one complaint about hammocks: they make waking up exceptionally painful. When I woke up this morning, I turned to get out of the hammock, only to fall flat on my face. My nose is still sore from where I smashed into my porch. Next time, i'm going to lay down a mattress or something under the hammock to make sure I don't injure myself. Now that I'm thoroughly embarrassed, it's time to get on with my day.

I start by getting in a shower. Thankfully, Big Mac hasn't gotten his in yet, so there is plenty of hot water this morning. I don't feel like serving Biggie with a taste of his own medicine, so I keep the shower short. Once I'm done, I dry off and notice the whiskers forming on my chin and jaw. I've never grown a full beard before; I have a wispy mustache and some sparse whiskers and that's it. Biggie offered to cut them down for me, but his straight razor looked more like a machete to me, so I declined.

I did have the good fortune of having some tools on hand to clean me up. Fluttershy and her friends were able to recover some more human artifice after I was brought in. The pile of tablets, smartphones, and other assorted doodads filled Flutters coffee table. I took to calling it the Artifact Pile. Among all the useless pieces of machinery in the pile, I found some rather interesting things, stuff like a Samsung GalaxyS Four (a nice upgrade to my faulty Galaxy TXT phone), a Norelco Razor, some poor kids 3DS-XL, an Apple iPad and set of Monster headphones. Many of those devices needed charging. Thankfully, a geek was among the passengers of my flight and brought with them a solar charger and more than twenty bits to attach to these desperate devices.

I used the Norelco to give me a clean shave, then I got dressed. Most of the clothes I have are new acquisitions made by Rarity. Some of them, though, are clothes found in suitcases discovered in another part of the Everfree. Twilight's good friend, Zecora, found them all and told her that a swatch of forest two miles long and three miles wide was littered with the stuff. What the zebra brought in were the most intact of the luggage. And now that I'm slimming down (I've gotten to 160 pounds, so far), I can fit some of the more normal clothes. I say normal because the ponies didn't have a clue about human fashion and at first tried to dress me in a woman's evening dress. Less said about that, the better.

As I head out, I see Applejack on her front stoop, twiddling around with a haystack. In her hooves is a letter. If Applejack isn't reading it, I bet it's for me.

"Hey there, sugarcube!"

"Howdy, Ayjay! Got somethin' fer me?"

"Sure do," the orchard owner says, "have a gander."

Sure enough, I do have mail. I don't recognize the script, though.There's also a wax seal on it. Where did this come from?

"Wow, Ah didn't think you'd get a letteh from Princess Celestia so soon."

"W-w-wait," I stammer, "this is a letter from Princess Celestia?"

"Sure looks it," AyJay confirms, "why don't ya open it?"

"Okay…"

Once open it, I see a rather elegant hand (hoof) has written to me in English. Apparently, the Sun Princess knows I can't read Equestrian.

Dear Mr. Steven Ambrose,

It has come to my attention, from my faithful student, Twilight, that you have arrived in our world. With your arrival, many strange and wondrous things has occurred. I wish to welcome you to our land of Equestria. I also humbly request your presence in Canterlot for a formal audience as soon as you are able. I am sending a chariot to collect you from your residence at Sweet Apple Acres. Please send your reservation of attendance through Spike the Dragon.

Co-Ruler of Equestria, and a potential friend,

Princess Celestia.

"How about that?" I quip, "Any idea how I present myself to Her Royal Highness?"

AyJay gets a snide smile on her lips before saying, "Don't think too much about it. Princess Celestia is pretteh laid back for a royal."

"I gotta keep that in mind." I say, "Guess I need to send off a letter then… One question, though: why do I need to reply via Spike?"

"He sends off all of Twahlahghts mail." AyJay answers, "His flames send letters out to the Princesses. Twahlahght told me his flames are enchanted to do that or somethin'."

"Well, that is intriguing." I muse, "Better go pay my dragon buddy a visit, then."

At half past three, a flying chariot settles in front of my apartment. I don't know what I was expecting, but this wasn't it. I'll need to keep my eyes closed so I don't vomit all over the carriage. My acrophobia is gonna take one Hell of a hit today. The Pegasi roll up to my porch. I'm dressed like I usually am: blue jeans, compression shirt under a thermal hoodie, and one steel toed boot. ('Cause the other leg is missing some parts, yeah.) I gingerly get in the chariot and off we go.

It doesn't take us that long to get there, but the sensations of being in flight, coupled with the lurching about of the chariot, keep my gorge risen and my fear at lengths I've never heretofore seen. I don't know how I stayed upright through that ride. But, oh, wow! The magnificence of this place! Canterlot is like Paris, Las Vegas, New York and Japan's Akihabara District all rolled into one!! I've never been one for big cities, but this place… I could spend a year exploring every street and shop and I'd never get bored.

Unfortunately, I'm not here for the dime tour. No sooner am I dropped off at the palace does a contingent of guards come up to escort me. All that gold and silver, though… I've made the erroneous assumption that Equestria is a land simple creatures with simple desires. One look at these unicorn soldiers, and I realize, these people are awash in precious metals. I am disappoint, son. Not just precious, I see. Marble, granite, jewels of every shape and color, and the odd precious stone as well. My inner architect is screaming in delight.

Wow, is this the throne room? High and holy fuck! The vaulted ceiling here… I bet the acoustics are amazing! (Damn, why did my inner monologue go all Rob Dyrdek just now?) The pomp and pageantry in here is just simply unbelievable. I'm surprised none of the lower class ponies are starving! How do they manage the upkeep of this place?

"I see you're enjoying my home." says a soft regal voice.

Well, now, look at this! There's a pristine ivory alicorn mare waltzing up to one of the thrones. She has golden ornaments on her legs and around her hooves. I see a stylized sun on her flank; that must be her brand or "cutie mark" as I've heard Sweetie belle say. This has to be Princess Celestia. I get a powerful sense of déjà vu; the last time I saw this alicorn, she was a foal in my dream. My, my, has she grown! Her eyes are large and properly expressive, her horn has grown to length I find intriguing, and the tiny wings her younger self had are now long and wide. I wonder how long it took for her to get that way…

"I am," I say, "This place is magnificent! Never seen the like before…"

Princess Celestia issues a tinkling laugh, "Well, I'm glad you appreciate it. Though, I think you should close your mouth before flies settle in it."

I do as suggested then make a deal of bowing. It's many times harder than you can imagine with crutches.

"You don't have to do that," the Princess tells me, "I know of your injury. And I have to admit, getting bowed to everywhere I go can be very upsetting."

I have to smile about that, "I think you're the first royal entity I've met that prefers to go without wholehearted veneration."

"Yes, yes," Celestia says, waving a hoof, "I'm cool like that."

I have to laugh at her attempt to be- I don't know, Ms. Popularity. I didn't know how she would react to that, so I stifled a small chortle. I get a smile in return. It seems the Princess is of good humor.

"I would like to talk to you, Mr. Ambrose," the Princess says, "my protegé has told me quite a lot about you."

I laugh, "Whoa, dude, Mr. Ambrose is my father. The name's Steve."

Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha! I can't believe I just paraphrased Crush the sea turtle's line! That is so fucking epic; I've been wanting to say that for a while now.

Laughing, Princess Celestia says, "Okay, Steve. Before we talk, I believe we have one more member of this discussion who needs to arrive."

I give the Princess a puzzled look. I assume this third party is gonna be Sparklebutt. Truesbob, I'd rather not have to deal with her. To my surprise, the pony that next comes into the throne room is NOT Twilight and thank the Maker for that! The pony that walks in is- fucking Hell, is she beautiful! Midnight blue, with a mane that flows a lot like Celestia's but in a monochrome cobalt. Her cutie mark is a moon wrapped in shadow. Next to her sister, she is both alluring and imperious.

"Sister," the midnight alicorn says, "is this guest you were speaking about earlier?"

"Yes, Luna," Celestia answers, "I would like you meet Steven Ambrose, the first intelligent human in Equestria in more than eight centuries."

Luna turns to me (Christ save me, she is even more beautiful than I ever imagined!) and gives me a once over.

"Hail, fellow." Luna speaks.

"Well met, Princess." I reply.

Luna turns back to her sister, "This one is versed in the old ways." She then turns back to me, "Praytell, Steven, how didst thou learn Equestrian? 'Tis no record of any human that could thus."

I would speak, but I'm partially stunned. Luna's voice has me enraptured. It's almost as if Zooey Deschanel and Charlotte Church are speaking in lovely hymnals to me.

"Did we- I do something wrong, Tia?"

Celestia, to my astonishment, is wearing a great smile on her muzzle, "No, Lulu, but I think you may have hypnotized poor Steven here."

"I'm okay," I exclaim quickly, "I'm okay."

"Ah, good!" Celestia beams, "Let's take a walk. I have no doubt Luna would like to take in a late afternoon snack?"

"Indeed," Luna confirms, "this is much earlier than I would usually wake for the night court."

"Ladies first," I say and the two alicorn royals proceed to walk ahead out of the throne room.

I follow in their wake; our procession passes through many halls, just as grand and jaw dropping as the rest of the castle. This place is indeed vast, because it takes us a whole forty-five minutes before either princess stops. The room we are now is- well, I'd like to say it's like a dining room, but I'm not sure that's accurate. (If it were a dining room, it'd be one from Warren Buffet's mansion.) The long dining table in front of us is covered in velvet and lace; there are silver and gold candelabras spaced evenly along down the center, and long backed, silk lined chairs are drawn underneath the table. Of course, Princess Twilight is here already. Yay, me…

"Take a seat, Steven," Princess Celestia tells me, "I'll call on the wait staff."

While Luna and I take positions flanking Sparklebutt, Celestia's horn glows a brilliant gold; several ponies, ranging in coat and mane color but all adorning aprons, pour out from a hidden door. They bring forth silver platters which are covered. When the the pair of waiters serving Luna uncover her platter, both our jaws drop. Luna's has fallen due to gluttony, mine in a no small amount of shock.

"Oreo's?" I ask, puzzled.

"What did you say, Steven?" Twilight asks.

"Oreo's," I repeat, "Luna is eating Oreo's?"

Said alicorn is currently muzzle deep in her foodstuffs, yet her eyes swing back my way with curiosity.

"Waf dif youf caffed dese?" she asks, in her mouth still masticating the chocolate-and-cream sensations.

"B-back h-home," I stammer, "We call those Oreo's."

"Argh dey deliffous?" Luna wonders.

I nod, "The most delicious things ever!"

Oh, now what is this? I, too, have some Oreo's. They're not exactly the kind I'm used to, but the could be their twin.

"O-re-ohhhhhhs!" I beam; I've suddenly become all stomach.

"Please," Celestia says, "dig in."

I can't stop myself; I'm stuffing Oreos in my face so fast, I almost look like Luna. She's got so many of the cookies in her mouth, she resembles a chipmunk in late fall. I try not to laugh, but my mouth is also filled to bursting with Oreo's; minute Oreo crumbles fall from my mouth while I suppress a laugh.

"Wow, you really like those, huh, Steve?" Twilight asks; I nod.

"Well, this is off to a better start then I thought," Celestia comments, "color me surprised."

"I can haz milk, plz?"

Every head turns to me when I ask the question. Luna swallows and and seemed mildly confused.

"What did thou- you say?"

I clear my throat (I lapse into meme-speak when my throat is dry. A Freudian slip, I'm sure.) and ask again, "Can I have some milk, please?"

"That's not what you said," Twilight tells me, "you said something else."

Gulping, I respond, "I tend to go into a silly form of speech when I get cotton mouth. Meme-speak or sometimes elite speak. And right now, my throat is drier than El Paso."

"What is El Paso?" Luna asks.

"It's a desert town where I come from," I answer, "it's stuck in a valley at the lower end of a mountain range. Little vegetation grows out that way and the heat spikes really high."

"I'll see if the kitchen has any milk for you, Steven," Celestia says, then she summons a waiter to order it; when she speaks, she's addressing me again.

"Now Steven," she begins, "Twilight informs me that you are not from our world."

"That'd be right, ma'am." I answer, "Humans are the predominant species back on Earth."

The three princesses share a look.

"But," Luna says, "you ARE on Earth."

"Wait, what?" I say.

"This is Earth," Luna continues, "that is what we call our world."

"That's funny," I muse, "that's what we call our planet, too. Humans, I mean."

"How curious," Celestia muses and for a fleeting moment, I'm reminded of Professor Dumbledore, "and are there ponies on your earth?"

I admit, "There are, but nothing like what is here. They're- they're more like service animals. Don't get me wrong; I'm pretty sure they're intelligent creatures, but they don't speak, or read, or sing. They certainly didn't build a global civilization and I can't think of a single pony back home the resembles any of your people."

"Hmm," Celestia muses.

I'm thinking what else to tell the three royals around me when a glass on top of a saucer comes floating in my general direction. Just before it reaches me, it's about eight inches away at that point, the saucer and glass begin to fall.

"Fuck-!"

I'm lucky that I have just enough agility to grab it before it shatters on the marble floor. When I come back up from capturing the glass, I get three very bewildered stares.

"I like milk." I sheepishly say.

Luna blinks, then turns to her sister, "Tia, did you see that?"

"I did," Celestia replies, "he- canceled a unicorns magic."

"He's been doing that since he arrived here," Twilight tells Celestia, "every spell I use on him either fails or causes him immense pain."

"Uh, hello!" I interrupt, "I'm right here!"

"Is this true?" Celestia asks me.

"Yeah, pretty much," I confess, "So far, none of your pony magic works quite right when I'm nearby. Lyra, you know Lyra Heartstrings right?, she tried to magic a notebook into my lap, only for it to end up on a bookshelf."

"Fascinating," Celestia says, "Tell me, Steven, is there magic where you come from?"

I shake my head, "Unless you count those illusionists like David Blane, then no. Certainly not like what you all have."

Luna then peers at her sister and Celestia stares back. In the next moment, both princesses horns light up. I feel my brain getting peeled back, an orange ripe for picking. I sense that every memory I have ever had is getting reviewed. Not just memories, though, my dreams are getting looked over, too. The sensation is overwhelming; it only stops when both sisters horns stop glowing. They look unnerved; Luna is, if possible, looking enraged. It's strange that this magic works on me. Stranger still, I'm not in any pain. <Was is das?>

"Terran," Celstia says, "You are a Terran."

I nod, "Yeah, I guess. Though, I only really hear that term used in sci-fi novels and movies."

"You don't unders-" Celestia starts, but Luna interrupts.

"A Terran? That cannot be. They fled from this world. There hasn't been one in Equestria since after the Poni Empire failed."

"Weren't all Terrans extinct by the time of the Griffon-Minotaur Accord?" Twilight asks.

"They were," Luna answers, "those that remained were either slaughtered by Imperial forces or went into isolation well away from Equestria."

"So there's no way that Steve is one of those Terrans?"

All of this is going over my head and I can see Celestia tensing up considerably.

"Luna, Twilight, please-" Celestia growls, "Steven is certainly not one of the Terrans of old. And he does not appear to be from any of the remaining tribes on the Fringes."

"Excuse me," I declaim, "but this is all a little overwhelming for me. Would anyone care to explain just WHAT IN THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!"

There's a silence that none of the princesses care to break. I'm angry and a great deal bemused. Ever since ending up here, I've been suffering with unanswered questions. I was hoping not to open up any further inquiries, but this just too much.

"I'm sorry," Celestia says, finally breaking the quiet, "I understand you have been separated from your home, your family, and your culture. There is much that is left unexplained about your arrival here. You also bear a striking resemblance to- somepony I used to know… Needless to say, to answer your most pressing question, you are a Terran, the first to come into Equestria with their mind intact. The Terrans existing now on OUR Earth are- less evolved than yours. They originate from the olden house named Proletariat. I'm sure you recognize that name."

"Actually," I admit, "that names DOES sound kinda familiar…"

"The dreams you've been having," Celestia continues, "are actually memories. Genetic memories from those that fled our world for another similar to it. I believe you are descendant of those houses that left here. And your presence is more than highly fortuitous."

Care to run that one by me again?!

I should note that the Greek I put in here is related to cosmic rays. The human brain emits these on an everyday basis and if some of these are abnormal, it would show on an Electroencephalograph. In my head canon, Alpha waves show telekinetic potential, Sigma show telepathic capability. Theta and Sigma are outliers for those abilities. (Theta is in use during Ominpathic dispatch; Omega during Ominkinetic.)

More stuff about the Terran Empire. Also, a visit to the Sister Princesses!

I swear, I didn't take the title of this chapter from CogWing.