† Read the stardate: "U" designates universal time, "04" is the month, "21" the century, "27" marks the year, ".02" defines the season.

Report from Terran Imperial Expedition Fleet Compatriot, Captain Jacob Stewart, cmnd. of Terran Stellar Vehicle Stalwart, Stellar Navy Registry, Alpha One Two

Stardate U04112127.02†,

It's been one year since we shoved off from Terra Firme. At the suggestion of the Equestrian Royals, and from no small amount of prodding from the Imperial Archmage, we set off with twelve of our fleetest and most advanced ships to Terra Firma. In the days of the old Terran Empire, such a feat would have take ten years, Firme time or about 1,000 years Firma. We've made incredible strides since those earlier explorations. While the Terran Empire was only capable of .97 of light speed, we are now currently capable of C2 in speed.

Our journey was not without incident. Midway to our target destination, we encountered a rather jarring cosmic phenomenon: a quasar. Our instrumentation failed us when we passed too close and artificial gravity went offline until we were able to refire thrusters away from the star. There were some injuries, namely contusions and a few concussions, but nothing all that serious. Our course did need adjusting after we we flew through a highly ionised nebula in another quadrant, but afterwards, it was smooth sailing, so to speak.

That said, we are now parked on the dark side of Terra Firma's moon. We are awaiting official orders from The Matron herself to break cover and head for high Earth orbit. The Compatriot Fleet consists of one carrier (the Aegis), three destroyers (the Anvil, Hammer, and Chisel), four corvettes (the Joyeuse, Durendal, Excalibur, and Curtana), two cruisers (the Steadfast and the Goodspeed), a battleship (the Leonidas), and the Stalwart (Wayfarer Class). Our intention is not to sow hostile intent, but to demonstrate the power of the Empire. For the task of bringing Terra Firma into the Terran Imperial fold, all but the Stalwart and the Aegis will be hanging back.

Our mission profile, per se, is to announce the reformation of the Terran Empire to Last Chance, including negotiations/discussions with world leaders, establish diplomatic ties with the nations of Earth, and invite it's denizens to Terra Firme. According to scans made when we entered the system, Terra Firme still uses internal combustion engines, still has a pollution count significantly higher than is healthy long term, and currently has a populace of well over eleven billion humans. It is our hope that we can convince many from the planet to join us in establishing colonies not only on Terra Firme, but other Imperial colony worlds. (Preferably some of the worlds like Threshold around Alpha Centauri.)

All ships are present and accounted for; personnel are in fine condition and morale is high. We presently are making preparations for Primary Contact. To the glory and majesty of the Empire!

Capt. J. Stewart, cmdr.: T.S.V. Stalwart.

"Captain on the Bridge!"

"As you were," announces Captain Stewart to his crew, "Helm, what's our status?"

"Still parked, sir," Lieutenant, Junior Grade Emiko Nazawa explains, "sensors show we are still undetected. Our surveillance of the planet goes on unhindered, sir."

"Excellent," Capt. Stewart says, "Ops, are we green?"

Lieutenant Commander Tatiana Sokolev answers, "Captain, Engineering reports that all primary systems are go. We have full capacity on all engines and our reserve fuel is at full capacity."

"Best news this morning," Capt. Stewart remarks, "Tactical, report."

Lieutenant Silver Star replies, "We have a full compliment of proton torpedoes and concussion missiles, plasma beam emitter banks are at full capacity and on standby, all Albatross dropships are fully fueled and powered, and our particle/ray deflector shields are at maximum."

"Perfect," the good captain says, "now all we need is word from on high…"

At the moment, the aft starboard side hatch opens.

"Archmage on the deck!" bellows the Sergeant-at-Arms.

"At ease," the House of Endymion Elder states, "Captain, how goes your war?"

"It goes well, Archmage," the captain replies, "getting a little restless, though. I don't know about you, Mr. Ambrose, but I'd like to get this done and over with. The sooner, the better."

Steven Ambrose nods, "Same here. It's Matron Williams who has the issue. She seems to be in the midst of writers block. I keep telling her I can do all the talking but she insists. I wonder if I was ever that stubborn at sixteen…"

"Weren't we all," Capt. Stewart says, "by the by, Doctor Lulamoon was looking for you."

"Oh?" remarks the Archmage, "did the mare say why for?"

The captain shakes his head, shrugging, "Not a clue. She's been a huff since first light. Maybe she hasn't had her coffee this morning or maybe she's just on the rag…"

Both the Helm and Ops officers give the captain a stern look. The Archmage isn't looking to pleased, either.

"Captain," Steven starts, "it isn't in my purview to tell you how to do your job. I do have the prerogative to remind you that such sexist statements are unbecoming an Imperial Naval Officer. Also, Trixie has already been through her estrus. That was nine weeks ago. And as far as I know, Equestrians mares don't premenstrual syndrome like human woman do. No offense, Officers."

"None taken," Lt. Nazawa says. Lt. Cmdr. Sokolev replies in her native Russian, "Tam net obid , kotoryye budut imet'sya."

The Archmage nods, "Well, I see nothing that should cause me concern. Captain, you're doing an excellent job, despite some rather revealing male chauvinism. Keep up the good work. Please alert me or The Matron if anything in our status changes."

"Of course, Archmage," the captain replies, "goddesses be willing, I won't have to."

"Blessed be," the Archmage adds, "well, I better go tend to some personal business. Good day, ya'll."

Steven Ambrose sweeps from the bridge, receiving nods of acknowledgement from the bridge staff as he leaves. He enters into the port side lift and is gone.

Meghan Williams is sitting at a desk in her palatial quarters aboard the Stalwart. For the last seventy-six hours, she has poured over a speech that she intends to use for her introduction to the people of her former home world. In those seventy-six hours, she has managed to write six paragraphs. Six very short paragraphs, consisting of no less then four sentences apiece. She knew when she took on the title of Matron of the Empire, she would need to make a number of public appearances; public appearances required some public speaking skills. She lacked, according to her perception, the graces of a true leader and thus was more than aggravated that her attempts to write a halfway decent speech were coming to naught.

It didn't help that only other member of the High Council she could rely on, The Imperial Archmage Steven Ambrose, she didn't completely trust yet. She would have gone to her step brother, General Daniel "Danny" McAllister, twenty, but he was no great shakes at public speaking, either. She had considered consulting her half sister, Grand Sage Molly McAllister, for advice on speech writing. Molly is a genius; her I.Q. is over 186 and she uses hundred dollar words so easily. And she's only eleven years old. Meghan's pride got in the way, though… None of the others in the Council has the sort of resumé she required now. She also didn't want to admit to the Archmage, a rather comfortable orator by her estimation, that her skill in public relations was rather wanting. Her missives on such a dubious task were interrupted by a shrill melody; someone was ringing her doorbell.

"Who is it?" The Maiden Matron asked.

"It's me," came a tenor voice with a an Irish lilt from beyond the door, "can I come in, sis?"

"Door's open," Meghan responded.

The entrance hissed open, a la Star Trek, and walked in a lanky young man with a carrot top head. His right arm was covered in a matte silver finish; it was the arm he lost whilst in trapped in the Griffon Kingdom.

"Having a wee bother over yer speech?" the young man inquired.

"'Wee bother' doesn't begin to cover it," Meghan answered, "I'm totally stumped. Thank the Goddess that you don't have to write speeches, General Danny."

A smug grin grew on Danny's face, "Aye, 'tis not in me job description, is it? Mine's is ta bust sum heads, ennit?"

Meghan nods, "That it is. Life must be so simple for House Praetorian…"

"Aye, it can be," Danny affirms, "until some crisis or 'nother comes callin'."

Sighing, Meghan looks at her step brother a moment, worry etching itself into her face, "What am I gonna do, Danny? We're supposed to go live in a few hours. I can't even string six sentences together for a decent paragraph, not to mention a ten minute speech!"

"I was a-wonderin' why we was parked up here fer so long," Danny muses, "why not let the Archmage help? He's almost as good as wee Molly, maybe better, with the words."

"Right," Meghan growls, "like I'd let that House of Endymion tell me what to say! I'd rather catch a UTI."

"Ew, gross!" declares a voice from the doorway.

"Molly?" both siblings ask.

"Right-o!" the First Sage answers, "I came down to see if'n you wanted a kipper. Bonbon has some tasty sweets all cooked up and she asked me to come down an' see if you wanted enny?"

"Bonbon made sweets?!" Meghan exclaimed, "why am I the last to know anything?! Come on, before she runs out!"

Bulkhead Two, Bow Twelve marks the location of the Ship's Lounge. It isn't always in that location, but for the Stalwart, that is its precise location. The Earth pony Bonbon is hard at work in the bakery, making confections of all kinds for the pleasure of the crew. Next to Berryshine's Pub, which is in the same space, it's the most popular spot aboard ship. It's not even nine hundred hours, and already a sizable crowd has amassed for some of her sweets. The only other baker on board is Applejack, but she is- indisposed of for the foreseeable future.

The Archmage was already there, having dropped by his quarters to check on his wife. She was still a little tired (to be expected after only given birth two days ago) but she was in good spirits. He promised to check back in later, once the hoopla of Primary Contact was over with. Which, if current estimates are to be believed, will be in eight hours. That is pending whether or not Matron Williams has her head back in the game. Steven can't seem to shake her belief that he was poised to take over the Empire. I have power, Steven mused, and I don't want more. The dumb girl is paranoid…

"Oh, Steve, there you are!" came a young female voice.

The Archmage scanned the human crowd before reminding himself that there was more than humans here. Looking down, starboard, and slightly aft, his eyes fall upon the visage of an violet alicorn trotting cheerfully through the crowd. Twilight Sparkle is wearing a wide smile on her muzzle as well the Crown of Harmony on her head. Riding on her back is her assistant, and adopted brother, Spike, although given his current age now, it won't be too long before Twilight will be riding his back.

"Bro," Spike says, lifting a clawed talon in the air.

Steve matches his gesture with a fist and bumps the proffered appendage. The pair shared a smile; it had been too long since they had done that.

"Morning, Spike; morning, Sparklebutt!" The Archmage said.

Gritted teeth and narrowed eyes marred Twilight's face, while Spike staved off the uproarious laugh he had with a taon over his snout.

The Princess of Friendship growled, "If I've told once, I've told you twenty thousand times: my name is not Sparklebutt!"

"Oh come on, Twilight," Steve exclaimed, "you know I'm just yanking yer chain!"

Twilight responded with a "hmph," while Spike slid of his adopted sister's back. His smile was threatening to break his face; he was still holding in a chortle against his talon.

"So," Steve began, "what brings The Princess of Friendship and her adjunct drake down to Second-Twelve? A little early for lunch, aren't you?"

"Actually," Twilight begins, "we were looking for you. Matron Williams told me that Primary Contact is scheduled for 1600 hours. I was wondering what was taking so long; I've had my speech written one month into the journey. I know Princess Luna had hers written as soon as we were out of system."

"Ah, I getcha," the Archmage says, "blame Meghan. She wanted to write her own speech for Pee-See, but is overcome with writers block. It maybe the most important announcement in the entire galaxy, but she's making it sound like her entire life is dependant on this one speech. Frankly, it's annoying, her insistence that she can do this on her own. It's a pride thing, I'm sure; First Sage McAllister could've written for her but the girl is too stubborn to ask for help."

"Boy, why does that sound familiar?" Twilight muses.

"Comes with the territory," Steve remarks, "she's from Colorado. The state is supposed to be known for independence and stubbornness. Wouldn't really know; I grew up in Texas."

Twilight doesn't respond to this; her attention is drawn to a group of new arrivals entering the Lounge. A troupe of three humans and a single unicorn mare arrived. The humans in the crowd parted for the young woman leading the troupe; many heads bowed as Matron Meghan Williams marched forward to Bonbon's Bakery Basket.

"Ah, Archmage," The Maiden Matron said, "it's good to see you this morning."

"Likewise, Matron," Steve replied, "although, I didn't know the Quorum was having an impromptu. First Sage, General, how fare you?"

"I'm well," answered Danny McAllister while his sister, Molly, merely smiled sheepishly. (It's a known fact that Molly harbors a minor crush on the Archmage, although it's not known if it's for his body or his intelligence.)

"Matron Williams," Twilight says, "I didn't expect to see you here, either."

"Twilight!" Meghan beams, "It's good to see you! Wearing your crown again, I see."

Twilight nods, even as Spike and Steve stifle giggle fits, "Luna insisted. I'm not a pony to wear much in terms of regalia, but on this point I can't really refused. By the way, Steve, you really need to see your wife. She frets something awful."

"I knew I was forgetting something," the Archmage wonders, "I guess that happens when you have a herd of mares."

Twilight gives him a death glare until Steve clarifies, "I just mean, between all the preparation between Primary Contact and the various meetings that will take place afterward, I haven't been able to get my head straight. I love all my girls; I wouldn't be married to them I didn't. I am not Lone Star."

"Nice recovery, bro," Spike needles.

"Anyway," Meghan says, changing the subject from awkward romanticism, "something smells good. What is that mare making, anyway?"

Twilight and Spike sniff the air before Twilight declares, "Mmm, gingerbread…"

"Gingerbread…" continues the Archmage, "and chocolate!"

The Matron and The Grand Sage eyes grow wide with anticipation; the General is stoic, like he always is.

"I expected more," Danny says, "given Ms. Bonbon's reputation as a confectioner, I was hopin' for somethin' else."

"Wait, Danny," Steve interjects, "you mean to tell me you've never had some of Bonnie Lass' sweets?!"

"No," Danny states, pushing up his glasses with his thumb and pointer finger, "I h'ven't."

Steve stares at his compatriot for a moment and then says, "What's wrong with you, boy?"

Danny glares at the Archmage, neither with contempt nor curiosity, but simply stares.

"I donna believe there be anything wrong wit' me. I donna normally abode by Equine food."

"Danny, Danny, Danny," Steve chides, "You have not eaten until you've had something from Bonbon. Trust me, her baked goods and candies are several orders of magnitude better than anything the Replicators can make. They are to die for!"

"Even so-" Danny begins, but Steve cuts him off, "'Even so,' nothing! You have to have some Bonbon goodness. Hey, Bonnie Lass! You got any caramel apples for my boy here?"

A beige coated mare with a pink-on-blue-mane emerges from the kiosk of her bakery, holding in her hooves three of the named treat, "With or without cinnamon, Steve?"

"With!" the Archmage confirms.

"Comin' atcha!" replied Bonbon, as the crowd parted for the mare.

On her back was a tray of caramelized apples. Tiny sprinkles of cinnamon sparkle in the goldenrod sauce each fruit is emblazoned with. Danny's eyes, while still disbelieving, did betray a small degree of hope. When Bonbon stops in front of the Archmage, the four humans look to the confectioner. Twilight and the the unicorn mare share a brief nod and smile upon the scene.

"There ya go, Danny Boy. Fresh from the oven: one caramel apple, from the hooves of Bonbon."

"Resistance, as it was said once, is futile," says the unicorn mare, whose bright yellow coat and flaming tongue mane seem to shimmer even in the artificial light of the ship, "my fianceé can be quite persuasive."

"Thanks, Shimmy," the Archmage says, "so, Danny, you gonna try one?"

The Imperial General-of-the-Armies gives Steve a hardened look, but nods anyway, "You won't give up til I try one, anyways."

"Eyup," Steve says, "besides, you owe me one."

Now the hardened look is replaced by one of incredulousness, "What chu talkin' 'bout, Willis?"

Steve points to the General's arm, the one with the metallic sheen.

"… I hate you." Danny says, then takes the proffered treat. He looks at at the apple from several angles, deciding where best to bite. The he opens his mouth wide and sinks his teeth into the confection.

Sunset Shimmer tries her best to suppress the anxious shiver she has; even after knowing Steven for so long, she still can't get over the look of a human eating. Meanwhile, Meghan Williams and her half sister Molly McAllister are watching their brother in anticipation. The twenty year old man chews on the candy apple with absolutely no change is in his hardened expression. Until he swallows the piece he bit off, he remains expressionless; afterward, his face softens, if but a little.

"Hmm, not bad." Danny says.

"Wow. Is that all?" the Archmage goads.

"Trust me, Steven," Meghan says, "this is about as much as you're gonna get out of him."

"So noted," the Archmage says, "you gotta admit though, Danny, that was better than you imagined it to be."

The Imperial General nods, "I was expecting something less than palatable. My assumptions are proven invalid."

"Speaking of assumptions," Twilight adds, "Primary Contact is happening today, right?"

Meghan gives her Equestrian counterpart a nod, "I don't know how well it will go down, but Phase One should be an eye opener."

When Twilight gives the Imperial Matron a confused look, she has to add the explanation, "Phase One: Pardon The Interruption? You do remember that one, don't you, Princess?"

"Oh, yes," Twilight interjects, "the global broadcast! I didn't know if that was still in play."

"It's very much in play," adds Steven, "we just tweaked it a bit. We're going for a universal message in all of Terra Firma's major languages. The West is getting English, Spanish, French, and Portuguese. The East is getting those as well as Farsi, Arabic, Swahili, Mandarin as well as Cantonese Chinese, and Japanese. Places like India are getting the Message in Hindi Proper, not any of the minor dialects. By the way, Shimmer, did you ever get that interpreter spell to work for ya?"

"Yes, I did," replies Sunset Shimmer, "I did have some troubles with the Asian languages, but I've adapted enough of them to be at least ninety percent accurate."

"B'tt'r'n anticipated," Molly adds, "just how many dialects were ya able to interpret, Sunny?"

Shimmer thinks for a moment, then says, "Roughly one thousand, though I'm sure there a few I may have missed."

"Wow, Shimmer," Twilight coos, "that's amazing!"

Shimmer blushes a little, as her eyes drift to the Archmage's face, "Well, I did have a little help."

The Archmage winks, while The Grand Sage and the Princess of Friendship look on confused.

Molly asks, "What're you two goin' on about?"

"It's grown up stuff, Molls," answers Meghan, while Steve adds, "unless you want a lecture, I suggest keepin' your nose out of it."

"But-" Molly protests before her brother steps in, "maybe a little later, Molls. This stuff is- sensitive in nature."

"I'm not a wee bairn, Danny."

"You're right," Meghan says, "but neither Danny or I are well versed in this arena. You could ask Mom or George, but I bet their reaction will be mortification."

Molly huffs, "Fine! Can we just got some sweets and get on with it? The longer the delay, the more irritating this all becomes."

There are several nods amongst the group. Molly still looks annoyed, but at least she isn't complaining anymore.

For anyone watching prime time television at eight o'clock, Eastern Standard Time, their normal programming may have seem a bit- odd. The message above, in gold lettering, as well as the Beastie Boys "Intergalactic" playing in the background, was all there was too see. It wasn't just TV watchers getting this treatment; all visual media was getting the same. The Internet also seemed broke; all websites showed the same black frame with a coursing gold trim on it. Numerous security officials believed it was a hacking breach on a global scale after reports of the same image arose from out of Europe and Asia. Australia and the more industrialized parts of Africa were reporting the same. The black frame stayed in place for several minutes until 8:15, EST, when the screen changed.

The world simply stopped. Confirmation of intelligent life outside their solar system caused the entire planet to pause. A moment passed, then two. Within a minute of the broadcasts end, the world powers were on the phones, making the most vital call they would ever make.

A harried man, overweight, balding, and wearing a fraying corduroy suit said, "SETI satellites detected movement just beyond the moon. Two large objects, closing in on Earth. They're emitting both radio and microwave signals on all bands. They aren't disrupting communications like last night, but they are giving the NSA a massive headache with intercept duties."

The President of the United States took this in while nursing her coffee. The idea that under her historic administration, she would be witness to another historic event was unfathomable. The point was self-evident, though; she and about 450,000,000 Americans saw the same broadcast. The newspapers littering her breakfast table were splashed with headlines about aliens, first contact, numerous references to The Day the Earth Stood Still and War of the Worlds. On any other day, this would have been humorous. Now, it was a matter of national, if not global, security.

"Other than that stunt from last night, what else do we know about this 'Terran Empire?'" the President asked.

"Not much, I'm afraid," said her national security advisor, "beyond the fact they are capable of interstellar flight, it's presumed they have faster than light capability…"

"Presumed, Mr. Foster?" the President mused, "I think it's a foregone conclusion that they have FTL capacity. What else can we presume?"

"Not much," confirmed Secretary David Coryn, "all our scanning equipment is useless on their hulls; their ships are made of an alloy that absorbs all radar and lidar sweeps. Ground based telescopes are able to get a clean look at them, but the ships are bigger than anything we can ever conceive of making."

"What about the transmissions?" the President asks, "Just what exactly are they saying in those broadcasts?"

"That's the interesting part, Madam President," answers Admiral Michelle Howard, "the message is an invitation to meet the Terran Imperial leadership. There's also instructions on how to contact them. It's actually very eery."

The President looks uncertain when she inquires, "How so, Madam Chairwoman?"

"The communique said to just-" it's here the Chairwoman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff hesitates, "'tell the wind the date and time.' The implications are rather incriminating."

Secretary Coryn chimes, "They're listening in to our conversations?! Admiral, how quick can we get our forces to DEFCON two?"

"DEFCON Two?!" exclaims Adm. Howard, "Have you lost it, Coryn? I know you're dad was Grade A crazy, but this is nutso on a whole other level!"

"Ladies and gentleman," the President chides, "we are supposed to be adults here. Petty squabbles can wait until end of business day!"

"Sorry, Madam President." both combatants sigh.

"Now, who here can tell me anything definitive about our guests?" the President asked again.

"They say they don't wish to harm us." answers the Security of Interior, Adam Postlewaite.

"That was what the message from last night said," countered the President, "how do we know that."

"It's confirmed by the Empire itself," replied Sect. Postlewaite, "in the transmission bursts, they claim to have numerous combat ready vessels on the dark side of the moon, but the only ships coming out to greet us are their exploration vessel and their lone carrier."

"Well then," the President scoffs, "why don't they just come down now? It's not like the whole world can't seem them from orbit."

"Don't mind if we do, Madam President," comes a young female voice, "by the way, the name is Meghan Williams, Matron of the Empire."

The President and her staff all turn to the other end of the Oval Office to see a quartet humans dressed in Raygun Gothic attire and something resembling a horse. The humans include a young girl clutching a staff, a slighter older girl wearing a tiara, a young man bearing a scabbarded sword, and another man, slightly shorter than his younger counterpart, who holds a quartz embedded stave. The small pony-like entity wears gleaming silver glaives on its fetlocks, a bright silver collar with a six point star on it, and a crown wrung in platinum bearing a similar star; it stands amongst them with a keen interest in it's nearly human visage.

A beat, then the younger girl asks with an Irish brogue, "Do ya think we broke 'em?"

"Nah," replies the Matron, a Midwestern accent in her voice, "they're just stunned to see us here."

The oldest of the quartet says, a Texas drawl lilting in, "Maybe we should set down. Let 'em know our intent ain't hostile."

"Agreed," says the younger man whose Irish tenor is a match for the younger women in the group, "'specially seein' as we missed th' red carpet."

"Our apologies, Matron," said Madam President, as she and her staff bow, "we didn't think you'd arrive so- suddenly."

Ms. Williams giggles lightly, "You don't have to do that, Madam President. We are equals here, after all."

"W-well," the President responds, "I guess that introductions are in order. I'm President Wendy Davis," She then points to her left, this is my chief of staff, Linda Killian," then to her right, "this is Secretary of State, David Coryn, and to his right is Admiral Michelle Howard," motioning to the man on the far right, "this is the Secretary of the Interior, Adam Postlewaite," then to balding man in the opposite corner, and my national security adviser, Lewis Foster."

"Thank you, Madam President," says the young Matron, "as I said before, I'm Meghan Williams, Matron of the Empire," then pointing the young man beside her, "this is my step-brother and Imperial General-of-the-Armies, Danny McAllister," pointing to the young woman adjacent, Matron Williams says, "my half sister and First Sage of the Empire, Molly McAllister, and lastly," pointing to the man with the stave across his lap sitting directly in front of her, "the old guy-" "HEY!" "is Steven Ambrose, Archmage of the Empire."

"By the way," the Archmage adds, "the critter that came with us is one of the entities that shares our homeworld. Twilight, do you wanna introduce yourself?"

"Certainly," the pony being said, surprising the other humans in the room, "My name is Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Magic, former protegé to Princess Celestia, from the Kingdom of Equestria. It's a pleasure to meet you all."

After the initial shock wore off, there were several hellos and other greetings made and then all parties sat down. President Davis asked her guests if there was anything they wanted to eat or drink. The McAllisters asked for tea and biscuits, Matron Williams declined any refreshments, but Archmage Ambrose did want two cans of Monster® and some Oreos®. While a page was off to acquire refreshments for the two groups, the two leaders began to talk.

"You guys caused quite the scare last night," President Davis claimed, "care to explain that?"

"We apologize for that," Matron Williams answered, "but we were certain that if we turned up up in atmosphere, with no prior announcement, we'd have an Independence Day scenario. As cheesy as that movie was, I had no desire to reenact it."

The President mused on that for a bit before she asked another question, "And what exactly is it you want from us?"

"Actually, we want nothing from you but a little understanding," Matron Williams responded, "this may come as a shock to you, but your world has nothing that we want. Imperial technology is several orders of magnitude above what your people currently have. If our scouting reports are to be believed, your world has just begun using holography for your extensive global communications. The Empire has been using that technology for millennia and we are now moving, after significant delay, into using trans-dimensional hard light for long terms communication."

"I think you went over their heads there, Matron," says the Archmage after the Presidential team's collective jaws drop, "Esmer, I need you."

The bluebell ancilla emerges, hovering just above the Archmage's head. The Presidential Staff gawk at the newcomer as it floats towards them.

"Hiya!" the faerie figure says, floating to the Commander of Chief, "I'm Esmeralda, an Imperial Artificially Intelligent Ancillary Unit, Level Ten. It's a pleasure to meet cha!"

The ancilla holds out a hand, to which President Davis holds out a tentative finger. The ancilla, despite having a very ethereal presence, grabs hold of the proffered finger and shakes it vigorously.

In a whisper to her handler, "I like her, Boss; she's silly!"

"I thought you might," the Archmage says, "and for our audience at home, that was but a small sample of the sort of gear the Terran Empire uses."

"Impressive," says Madame President, "In your message last night, you said you were willing to pursue mutually beneficial agreements. What did you mean by that?"

Matron Williams answers, "Well, The Empire, in it's current state, is rather bereft of populace. After a dormancy of 25,000 years, we have a very limited number of citizens residing on our homeworld of Terra Firmé. We were hoping to, if any party were willing, to allow migration from Terra Firma to our world. We also would like to share our knowledge of more advanced technology and materials, within reason, mind you."

"Wait a minute," said Adm. Howard, "what do you mean, 'a dormancy of 25,000 years?'"

"That's a good question," the Archmage says, "there's a whole story to it all, but it takes forever to tell it. I can summarize if you like."

When the President and her staff nod, the Archmage begins, "About 'round 26,000 years ago, The Terran Empire came in contact with the first of the Equestrians. Relations were actually pretty good for a while until certain parties starting mucking up the works. Eventually, The Empire and The Equestrians started fighting each other. The Empire had technological superiority, but Equestrian Magic nullified a great deal of it; whatever gear that could be used against the Equestrians was either short range or had limited targeting capability. Equestrian magic, Arcanus Equus has no real range, so the Empire was beaten further and further back. Soon, the Empire fell, and the remains of key leadership was forced to evacuate the planet. If you're wondering, they evacuated to here, Terra Firma. It's estimated that something on the order of 85-97% of the humans here are descended from Terran Imperial families."

"It should be noted that there were humans here already, but they were nowhere near as advanced or as educated as the Imperial Terrans," adds First Sage McAllister, "it's likely that Imperials and Native Terra Firma mingled and thus- humanity, as you know it."

"So," President Davis muses, "what does that mean?"

Matron Williams answered, smiling, "It mean that virtually every denizen of this planet is a member of the Terran Empire already," then after a beat, "you're welcome."

Our meeting meeting with POTUS went better than expected. We discussed a lot about what the Terran Empire could do for the planet, the country, and society in general. No doubt the men in the room perked up a bit when they heard that the male-to-female ration was something like one for every fifteen. When news of this gets out to the public, I bet there's going to be a mad dash for immigration forms…

We also discussed meeting the United Nations Assembly. While the world crisis management firm was still holding on, many of the dynamics that I remember existing twenty years ago are no longer in play. Although some things haven't changed much. (I was somewhat relieved to hear the Vladmir Putin got assassinated about three years after I left the last time. I was dismayed to hear that Kim Jun-Un was still out and about. And worse, he was even more bat shit crazy than before. How that worked out, I don't wanna know.)

In order to make sure we got the whole assembly gathered in New York, President Davis gave us a window of forty-eight hours to prepare. That was more than enough time for me, although by the end of it, Matron Williams was looking to punt anyone dumb enough to disturb her ass-over-teakettle across the moon. (And not Terra Firma's moon, either. We're talking Luna's Moon. Kee-riste!)

At the moment, the entire Quorum of Twelve is locked into harnesses onboard the courier shuttle Friendship. A Dove class vessel, it has no weapons on it and only basic shielding. Given that Meghan wants to project an air of benevolence, I don't blame her in the choice of transport. I highly doubt coming down in an Albatross class dropship would endear us to the nations of the world. I would love to see nations like Iran and North Korea shit bricks when they see the sort of firepower The Empire wields, but that come some other day. (I'm hoping sooner rather than later.)

We're touching down in front of the UN Building now. I look to my right and see Matron WIlliams; she's hates flying so this trip has been especially bothersome for her. To my left is Danny McAllister, snug in his Imperial Army officers uniform. Next to him is his half sister, Molly; she's wearing the vestments of a sage. (She is of House Intelligentsia, so that's fitting.) Her good friend and fellow bookworm, Princess Twilight, is sandwiched between The Grand Sage and First Surgeon, Kevin Lopez. His scrubs are pressed clean and white, the House of Apollo sigil gleaming of his lapel; the smile on his face hides just how anxious he is. Next to him is Kim Su-Yee, of the House of Mason. Her hands are busy with a hard light tablet; I see she's working furiously to concoct some new formula. I think I'll ask her later just what it is she's working on. In the last seat on this side is Nefertiti Goni'yo, of the House of Anthro. She is the Great Scribe of our Quorum, so she's has a HLT on her as well, although she uses hers to record the minutes of meetings and any additional Imperial business.

Across from her is the Quorum representative for House Hephaestus, Executive Engineer Abbas Sub-Nir; he's reading his Koran right now and very much invoking the spirit of his Moorish ancestors. To his left is Pierre Francois, of House Flora and our leading vineyard master. I know he complains about the lack of good wine on Terra Firme, but even he knows that alcohol is best not mixed with Imperial business. Next to him is human wife, Jeanne, of the House of Fauna. She is leading veterinarian and is here to assist her Equestrian charges. Speaking of which, the next to seats are occupied by three ponies: Princess Cadence, in a rare out-of-the-Crystal-Empire excursion, her husband, Shining Armor, and Princess Luna. (Luna and I have been exchanging goofy faces all the way down. I just hope she doesn't panic from being away from Arcturus; that time last that happened, the griffons holding him captive suffered major losses and at least two mountains were razed. (The first one was Luna's fault, but I take blame for the second one. No one messes with my son, damn it!) The very last member of our entourage is the Quorum member from the House of Genial, Koribuki Akemi. I don't know why our resident psychiatrist decided to dress in Sweet Lolita style, but I don't hear anyone complaining about it. (Especially my buddy Kevin, who is sweet on the Japanese cutie.)

Ah, finally, we've landed!

"Milady," i say, as the safety harnesses come off, "my I take your hoof?"

Luna smiles widely before offering her left forehoof and saying, "I am glad to, milord."

Despite being larger than your average Equestrian, Luna is still quite dainty in my mortal hands. I don't know if that's her magic making her so or what; even if it is, I appreciate the gesture. (The one time I was pinned under Celestia during an impromptu hoofball game, I discovered, the hard way, just how heavy an alicorn can get. I did have the tact not to mention to Sunbutt or her sister.) Every human and pony aboard disembarks behind Matron Williams and we all march out. Our pilot seems to have a sense of humor about this; I can hear The Prodigy's Stand Up as we approach the building. Although, I have to admit, it makes our entrance that much more epic; The Terran Empire arrives on Earth like a boss!

The doors of the UN Assembly Hall are opened before us by a pair of U.S National Guardsmen. Both look awestruck by our procession. I don't think I blame them; I mean come on, aliens from another world, coming up like they own the place. Our entrance to the Assembly Chamber itself is no less attention grabbing. Like outside, the floor is teeming with not only delegates from every nation on Earth, but also reporters from every other news organ on the planet. I see an MSNBC journalist trying to get a statement from Twilight to no avail. Over to my right and ahead is a CNN reporter laying down color commentary. A gaggle of different cameramen and journalists are swarming in front of Matron Williams, yet with practiced ease, she ignores them all. Luna is besides me and I can see that she is completely out of her element. I don't blame her; paparazzi here on Terra Firma are just as bad as the ones back home in Equestria. (Maybe even worse!) I give her nuzzle and an affectionate scratch behind her ears to let her know everything's alright. She returns the nuzzle as cameras snap shots of us that no doubt will be making headlines news later on today.

The ushers for the Assembly are taking us to a row of seats right in front of the speakers podium. I see that Ban Ki Moon is still Secretary General, although he now looks extremely aged and worn. Taking on the cares of the world can do that to a body, I guess. When all of us are seated, Luna having the biggest trouble because the seats are stadium styled and she can't get her hindquarters properly situated, the whole room goes quiet. Sect. Moon has the floor. He gives some pleasantries to the assembled nations here today, declaims this hour as the historic event in human history, then calls up Matron WIlliams and Princess Luna to the podium. Luna is glad to get up but I see the Matron looking several leagues beyond nervous. I get up with the two, so that I can help out Luna; even with all the etiquette she possesses for a millennia old mare, she still has trouble addressing groups.

There's a line from The Princess Bride I'd like to use here, but I'm not gonna. It would cheapen the experience. So let me sum up what happened at The UN Assembly. Matron Williams gave a brilliant speech about how Terra Firmé and Terra Firma are intricately connected. She let the people of Earth know that The Terran Empire was not out to conquer the planet. We welcomed anyone that was willing to come meet us as we held station just above the District of Columbia. (This no doubt disrupted air travel out of Dulles and angered the CIA and NSA with our intrusion into Washington airspace. I bet the General of the Air Force was fit to be tied by the Stalwart parked over the Washington Memorial.) Meghan then welcomed the people of Last Chance to the Terran Empire, explaining about the origins of the peoples here as descendants of the Old Imperial refugees. She then gave a stern warning to the despots of the world: the Empire would not brook any hostility towards itself and all of its citizens. (Kim Jun-Un was hit with a Neural Disruptor beam early on when he shouted, in relatively good English, that he wanted Imperial Technology and Weapons immediately. Russian and Iranian officials wanted to protest this, but shut the fuck up after Jun-Un got hit. I bet the disruptor pulse took all the "fuck you" out of 'em.)

The last thing Matron Williams mentioned was a bit of wisdom: The Terran Empire was open to lending whatever help was asked of it, but would not willingly provide support for any tyrannical or megalomaniacal scheming. She let it be known that we have weapons of terrible consequence and allies with the Equestrians whose magic will cause even greater damage. Luna demonstrated that by using her magic to knock a Peoples Republic of China aircraft carrier out of the ocean and land it, very gently, in the middle of Shanghai. I don't think I have to explain the sort of fright this caused, having a honest magic user teleport of a multiple ton naval vessel several hundred miles inland with nary a thought. We made a promise that we would only use such power and weapons only as a last result. I'm certain the NATO nations took rather kindly to this thought…

After making the rounds with the major powers that day, we were escorted, under heavy guard, to the Towers Hotel in Manhattan. (The Equestrians had a little shock to hear the name of the borough we where being taken to. Twilight made a comment about the similarity to our two worlds. Both Luna and I shook our heads at the studious princess.) I made a note to take as many pictures as possible so we could show Rarity some human fashions. I bet she'll want to come on the next expedition when she sees that! We were given numerous suites to stay in. Luna and I were placed in the Royal Suite, which the Night Goddess took to immediately. Meghan got set up in the Champagne Suite and Cadence, Shining and Twilight were placed in the Jewel Suite. (I heard that Twilight and Shining got into a small shouting match to determine where everypony would sleep. Cadence, great mediator that she is, declared that Twilight would share the master bedroom with her while Shining would be spending his nights on the couch. Although, I never heard him complain it it though. I can see why; those sofas are really plush!) Everyone else were placed in the Triplex Suites. From what In saw of them, the rest of the Quorum members were getting just as much luxury as the rest of us.

As planned, our seven day venture came to an end. Danny had the Aegis return to fleet while Molly and Meghan checked us out. When we left The Towers, we were once again escorted back to the UN Assembly Building on the East River. Friendship was still there, though our pilot had taken some local accommodations closer to UN Headquarters than ours were. A brief press conference was held (I did the majority of the talking) and then we boarded. Once airborne, we received a Marine escort to Washington. The escort broke off when we approached the Stalwart. A good thing, too, as Capt. Stewart reported that several individuals were seen hovering under the ship. The FBI came around and arrested a few of them on suspicion of terrorist activities. (Oh, that forsaken Patriot Act! Why didn't Congress just let that thing die already?!) From what I gathered during our stay, Islamic extremists still existed. The news of that angered Abba pretty badly…

Back onboard Stalwart, I got a summons back to my suite. I had learned that Applejack and my twins were just starting to walk. I couldn't keep a smile from crawling across my face. I got back to the suite just in time to see Ambrosia, the filly and the colt, Honeycrisp, taking tentative steps on all four hooves. Ay Jay watched happily as they waddled over to me, repeating their very first words as well, "Papa." I held them close while I kissed Jackie on her forehead. The last few days have been trying for all us, but this little moment made it all worth it. Then I got an even bigger surprise. Fluttershy came in as Ay Jay and I were playing with the twins. She emerged from the water closet just off the sitting room. She had been sick for a little while, vomiting at random intervals over the last few days. Ay Jay got a smug look in her eyes while I attended my beloved Pegasus. When I asked her if she was okay, she smiled despite evidence to her illness was still present. Then she said six words that made my day.

"Stevie, we're going to have a foal!"

Flutters will be giving birth to a colt by the time we return to Terra Firmé. Yaysies!