Author's Notes:

Theme for this chapter:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ty6wNt1bdto

Hope you enjoy.

In this chapter, see the beginnings of the storm to come, a storm that was foretold.

"Spike!" came a call from upstairs.

The dragon paused mid-bite, his jaw hanging precariously open as he enviously eyeballed the potato salad sandwich just inches in front of his nose. The wish he'd made the night before had come true; the day had been free of chores so far, but now he dreaded whatever task Twilight might have for him. She'd been locked in her study since before he'd awoken earlier in the morning, and hadn't emerged yet; it was already mid-afternoon, which meant that whatever she was doing was either important or confusing enough to keep her undivided attention. In short, if he ended up helping her, it would not be simple nor easy.

"What?" he responded, salivating a bit as he eyeballed the morsel between his talons.

"Could you come here?" came the muffled response from above, "I need your help with something."

The drake sighed and let the sandwich fall to the table, coming undone as it landed, and vacated the kitchen.

"Coming!"

As Spike began his march up the stairs, he could hear the not so soft hoof steps of Twilight doing something frantically from behind the closed door of the study. He figured she'd probably made some breakthrough in magic or something of the such, but when he opened the door to the room, what greeted his eyes was enough to make him freeze.

It was dark, the curtains drawn over the window with the only light being from candles and lamps, and the entire room was covered in papers, each with myriad notes and numbers scribbled over the entirety of their surfaces. Recently dried inkwells, quills worn down to the nub and still more notes littered the desk. On the walls were pinned maps, charts and graphs, each of them also adorned with still drying ink. On the far side of the room was a massive global map, which Twilight was standing before, her back facing the dragon.

"Umm, Twilight," he said slowly prompting the unicorn to spin around, revealing that she was wearing magnified spectacles to no doubt inspect the minute details of the map; the resulting effect made it seem like her pupils took up the entirety of her eye socket, and the dragon visibly recoiled upon seeing it.

"Good, you're here," she said, relieved as she levitated the many lenses off of her nose and onto the study's desk, "I need you to write a letter."

Her words fell on deaf ears, as Spike was taken aback with the sheer amount of knowledge compiled in every corner of the room.

"I never even knew we had this much paper," he said, oblivious to Twilight's request.

"I broke into the reserve supply in the basement," she admitted, turning her nose up a bit with pride, "That's where I dug up these old maps too."

"We have a reserve stash of paper in the basement?"

"Well not anymore," the unicorn responded, "but nevermind that. I've discovered something important and the princess needs to know."

"What did you find?" asked Spike as he tried to make sense of a titanic line graph looming on the nearest wall.

"Well I'm glad you asked," she said, standing tall as her horn sparked a glow and myriad papers began orbiting the two of them.

"You remember that meteor shower we saw last night?"

"The shooting stars?"

"Yes. Well, I didn't remember anything about them in this year's almanac," she said as she opened one of the spinning books, titled 'Poor Richie's Almanac', showing it to the dragon, "So I double checked, and sure enough, there wasn't anything both notable and natural going on in the stars last night."

Spike looked at her confusedly, and uncomfortably folded his hands behind his back.

"What makes you think that the scientists that wrote the almanac didn't mess up?" he asked, unsure that he could even contribute anything worthwhile to the conversation.

"They haven't made a mistake in, well, forever," Twilight admitted, "The Canterlot Observatory is one of the best space studying organizations in the world, and they didn't predict a meteor shower for last night. Not a single one anywhere in the world did. The sky is very predictable, down to seconds and inches, which can only mean that whatever happened last night wasn't natural."

"Okay, so there were some shooting stars that the scientists never saw coming," Spike said, "That's not that big of a deal, right?"

"Not just that," Twilight said with a grin as she brought another paper to Spike's nose, "but look at this. Those stars came out of the Orion constellation from about twenty-two degrees south of east, and shot straight over the Macintosh Hills, where we lost sight of them at about ten degrees north of west."

The dragon's eyes went blank.

"Um."

"Also, given the acceleration due to gravity and the atmospheric factors, considering that we had a barometric pressure last night of about 1.02 kilograms per cubic centimeter, there should not have been a natural thunderstorm last night. There wasn't rain in the forecast either, which means the weather ponies definitely weren't involved."

"Uh."

"I was confused at first too," Twilight continued as she began pacing back to the massive map on the far wall, "but then I thought that maybe, a large displacement of air could have caused a pressure difference and a large increase in static energy, which could have produced the heat lightning we were seeing last night. Also, a large heat source passing through the atmosphere could have caused the water vapor in the stratosphere to condense, thus, creating last night's storm, which originated along the bearings of the meteorites."

Spike sighed, his head beginning to hurt.

"If I'm right, then it's possible that an extraterrestrial object penetrated our atmosphere last night."

Spike, his brain pulsating, finally spoke his mind.

"Twilight, you do realize that it's somepony's job to do this, right? There are scientists in Canterlot that get paid to make these types of connections."

"I know but this could be important," Twilight reasoned, "If something did get through the atmosphere it could be the scientific discovery of the century. Imagine if it were a rock sample from another planet, or..."

She was cut suddenly off by a low-pitched growl, and both of them looked down at her rumbling stomach.

"Have you eaten today?" asked Spike.

Twilight shook her head and Spike sighed, rubbing his temples free of the throbbing feeling they'd recently attained.

"Okay, I've got a sandwich downstairs. I'll go get it for you. And here," Spike said as he went to part the curtains drawn over the window, "this dark can't be good for your eyes."

Light rushed in through window like a flood, and Twilight squinted and looked away as her eyes adjusted to the morning's radiance. Eventually, the world refocused, and the unicorn blinked away the sun's glare to look outside. She could hear Spike's steps receding away from her, no doubt heading downstairs to retrieve the sandwich he had offered. But, outside, she saw something that seized her attention.

"Spike..."

"Twilight, you need to just relax," the dragon sighed as he turned back around at the threshold of the study, "Besides, even if something did fall from the sky, imagine trying to find it. It could be anywhere, literally."

"Is that smoke?" Twilight asked aloud, peering outside.

Spike trotted up to the fixated equine's side, and followed her gaze to the West. Back, deep into the embrace of the mountains, exactly where they'd lost sight of the meteorites the night before, a column of black smoke was rising into the clear skies.

Spike looked up at Twilight, and she down at him.

"I think we should get started on that letter."

Meanwhile...

The nerve center of the Shadow of Intent was filled, several high-ranking Sangheili gathered around the room's central star map. The map, a massive holographic projection that reached to the ceiling, portrayed the entire galactic quadrant in a vast collection of infinitesimal lights, each tiny dot representing a singular star system. Each of the individuals around the table-shaped console in the center of the room were fixated as they waited for the entirety of their company to arrive.

The blast doors to the room parted suddenly, and all present turned to see the Arbiter stride in, the light of the star map glinting off of his sterling armor. The respect he commanded silenced the room in an instant, the only sound in the newfound quiet being that of his own footsteps.

"You say you have found them?" the Arbiter asked as he joined the congregation.

"Yes," came the reply from the Shipmaster, his arms crossed over his chest as he stood at the star map's interface, "But our situation has been... complicated."

"What is it?" asked the Arbiter, his voice lowering.

The Shipmaster looked down for a moment as he worked at the console's interface, highlighting two individual stars on the expansive hologram in bright red.

"My technicians have detected not one, but two slip space ruptures on opposite sides of the quadrant."

"'Mdama's fleet did not stay together?" the Arbiter asked, concerned, "Why?"

"We do not know," admitted the Shipmaster as he highlighted their own fleet's position on the star map, "The most likely possibility is that our jammers interfered with their battle-net, thus preventing them from coordinating a destination when they retreated in their rush."

'Vadum paused, light from the hologram shining off of his lustrous white armor, as he considered the staggering distance between the trio of crimson points, each representing a different concentration of warships in the quadrant.

"The majority of 'Mdama's capital ships emerged here," he continued, pointing at the red point nearest the ceiling, "in the Epsilon Indi System."

The Shipmaster again let his hands drop to the console's interface, and the third point, representing the rest of the enemy forces, became larger to represent a map of a single solar system rather than a quarter of the galaxy. The new map displayed small red ships above the third planet in the system as they emerged from slip space portals.

"However, a congregation of capital vessels emerged here," the Shipmaster said as he pointed to the map, "on the brink of this planet's gravitational influence."

All assembled of every rank focused on the map, some silently so, others quietly voicing their thoughts to those at their sides.

"We lack the surprise we had when we engaged the entirety of the fleet," admitted 'Vadum, "We cannot risk going into battle with a prepared enemy larger than we are, and inaction is not a wise decision."

"You suggest engaging the smaller of the two groups?" asked the Arbiter; the Shipmaster nodded, and the quiet commotion among the echelon increased in excitement ever so subtly.

"What do we know of this planet they have fled to?" asked the Arbiter again, causing the commotion to halt.

"Nothing, save for its existence," answered 'Vadum, turning his head down and slightly to the side, "We first learned of its location in the stars three years ago, when its presence was revealed by an artifact on the cleansed human world called New Harmony, when an expedition on pilgrimage unearthed a holy site there. This world has not been visited by any of our kind, nor our allies of disparate species; it has not even been named."

The Arbiter stepped closer to the hologram, studying every aspect of it closely as his eyes grew intense in ambition.

"Tell me more of the ships that emerged near this planet," he said, his voice lowering.

"A single battle-group survived the jump," said 'Vadum from the interface, narrating the hologram as it displayed his words, "One battle cruiser serves as this task force's flagship, with four light cruisers and six corvettes beneath its command. What would have been the fifth cruiser entered slip space with its shields down. The damage we inflicted unto this singular vessel corrupted its hull integrity; we believe only pieces emerged on the other side."

"Did they make for this planet for a purpose?" asked the Arbiter as he began pacing slightly.

"We do not know," came the response, "It is likely the jump was random, meant only for a retreat, but it is possible they know something we do not."

"Have they since landed on the planet," the Arbiter pressed, prying for any further information, "or have they amassed above it?"

"They have reactivated their cloaking devices since they were detected," said 'Vadum, prompting a slight growl from his counterpart, "However, we do know they are still in the system. We have not detected any further slip space signatures."

"Can we deduce anything more about our quarry from here?"

"No."

"Then we must make for this planet," said the Arbiter, pointing at the map with newfound vigor, "We will emerge farther from this world than they did, so that we will have time enough to assess the best route of attack before we initiate contact. Prepare the jammers aboard the Testament of Zeal, and orient two of the cruisers around her. We will scramble their battle-net, and prevent them from calling for help when our battle commences. We cannot afford to have 'Mdama come to their rescue. If he does, we will be outmatched."

The energy among the amassed officers increased, whispers and nods reverberating through the group.

"You seem to be recalling your days as Supreme Commander," said 'Vadum amusedly as he watched the Arbiter's eyes light with internal fire, "Have you anything else to contribute?"

"Our capital ships will linger outside the range of our foe's weaponry," the Arbiter said, his voice firm and strong, "From there, we will launch Phantoms and boarding craft to infiltrate and destroy as many enemy vessels as possible. Two corvettes and our Seraph squadrons will cover the insertion, and pull back once we have passed through hostile jaws. From there, we will plant the bombs, and fall back. Should anything fail, Shipmasters will take charge of assorted forces. Follow the carrier's lead; the enemy will likely have jammers as well. This will be our course of action until adaptation is necessary."

A few growls of determination sounded from those gathered, and the Shipmaster nodded as he considered his brother's words. Eventually, he nodded, blue light redirecting off his alabaster helmet.

"A fine plan," 'Vadum admitted before addressing all present, his voice changing from contemplative to authoritative as he switched from a friend to a leader, "Fall out to your battle stations. Prepare for a slip space jump."

The room emptied quickly, until only two remained. The Arbiter, following 'Vadum, brought up the rear of the procession as the nerve center was vacated, the blast doors sealing shut behind them as they prowled out the way they'd come. The hall was nearly empty as each of the Sangheili made for their stations with haste, leaving the Shipmaster and the Arbiter to walk shoulder to shoulder.

"What are your thoughts?" asked 'Vadum, his eyes locked forward though his audience was to his side.

"Our lack of knowledge concerns me," the Arbiter admitted as he strode through the smooth, glossy hall, "We know not what waits for us on the other end of this jump. What if this cruiser, the one that was destroyed as it fled, has created a debris field above the planet?"

"It is not likely," answered 'Vadum, "They emerged very near to the planet, relatively speaking. It is likely that what did make it to the other side was pulled from the heavens by the planet's gravity."

"This does little to comfort me," grumbled the Arbiter, "We still do not know if we have charted a course for a prepared foe, if they linger, waiting for us, or if they lay weary, licking their wounds. We know not if we are heading into an ambush. If we could detect 'Mdama's slip space signature, it would be foolish to think that he could not detect ours, and come to his comrades' rescue, if he is not already waiting for us."

"'Mdama is no fool," said the Shipmaster as they rounded a corner in the hallway, "He has proven his worth several times over when the Covenant was ours to share, though his recent bout with the humans on that Forerunner world may have humbled him."

"'Mdama, humble?" countered the Arbiter, stopping midstride as he turned to face his company, "We are talking of one who has named himself the hand of a god."

The Arbiter quickly stalked farther down the hall, leaving 'Vadum a few strides behind him.

"Would a humble warrior have contributed his forces to a siege of my home, and planned to do the same to yours?"

'Vadum's voice slowed as he tried to reason with his impassioned ally.

"This is more than retribution for the attack on 'Vadam Keep, just as this is more than the up-keeping of our alliance with the humans," he caught up to the Arbiter, and placed a hand on his shoulder, turning him to look into his eyes, "All these things are part of a battle to save our race, and to attain a lasting peace. When we allied with the humans, 'Mdama and those like him saw us as traitors. While they live, we will never live in peace, and Sanghelios will remain a battleground, our children and wives in the crossfire."

The Arbiter sighed as he shrugged slightly, causing the hand on his shoulder to fall. He looked down, his breathing uneasy.

"Do you ever worry about the matters of home?" asked 'Vadum, knowing full well the answer.

"I trust my council members will watch over my hold for me."

"I wish I could say the same," admitted the Shipmaster, laughing slightly, "But then again, I am no Kaidon."

"Let us talk no more of memories and wishes," said the Arbiter, his voice between frustration and pain, "We are on the eve of battle. Our minds must be here and now."

He turned suddenly and continued down the hallway.

"What will be your station when the fighting commences?" asked the Arbiter, becoming a battle-oriented warrior once again.

"Would it not be in the control room?" came the response from slightly behind.

"It is always wise for those in positions of power to undergo the same trials as those they are appointed over," the Arbiter counseled, "To not do so would be to forget the consequences of one's orders."

"I have not forgotten the smell of bloodshed," countered the Shipmaster harshly, "nor the heartbreak of loss."

"Have any of us?" asked the Arbiter as he rounded the final corner to the elevator banks.

"I no longer crave battle, as I once did."

"And you are not alone," said the Arbiter smoothly, "You are wise to recognize the atrocities of war, but our cause is just. The coming battle will be as treacherous as it is critical. Imagine the vigor our warriors will fight with upon seeing their Fleet Master at their sides. This fight will not be fought with flagships and plasma, but with swords and bombs. Your skill will not be needed aboard this ship, but will be put to use in combat."

The Arbiter paused before he continued, contemplating his next words.

"Regardless, it would be beneficial to renew your honor in the eyes of our brothers. Commanders are merely obeyed, but leaders are followed. The respect commanded by the first cannot hope to rival that of the latter."

The conversation paused as they reached the banks, the Arbiter pressing the console to summon an elevator for his counterpart.

"I will consider joining you in your Phantom," the Shipmaster yielded, "But do not wait for me. For this attack to work, we must be swift."

The Arbiter nodded as the doors to an elevator opened, and the Shipmaster stepped inside.

"This is where I leave you," 'Vadum said as he turned back around to face the Arbiter before the doors sealed once again, "Marshal your warriors in the hangar. I will be in the bridge, to catalyze our coming victory."

"Lest we lose our way, without your hand's guidance."

The door's shutting interrupted the Shipmaster's chuckle, and now solitary, the Arbiter summoned an elevator of his own. He strode through the doors upon their opening, and waited in silence for the ride down to the hangar to be complete, all to gather his brothers for death, whether theirs or their foes', and to prepare them for the coming of the unknown.

It was a long ride down.

Elsewhere...

The royal chambers were quiet, the only sound being that of a quill scratching against parchment. One princess sat at her desk, writing a decree by the light of her midday sun as it poured in through the expansive, elaborate window. The other of the room's inhabitants, the younger as well as the darker, sat in a large velvet chair in the corner, diligently reading a scroll held in a deep blue aura.

The room was regal in every sense of the word; every surface was beautiful, created with the finest craftsmanship and material imaginable. The mahogany desks and end tables shimmered with a polished luster, and the spotless floors reflected the ceiling in their wax. Even the walls reflected the riches of the palace, every picture and painting framed in gold and silver while the granite mantle displayed a collection of trinkets and treasures from all corners of the world.

Both of the royal sisters were diligent in their work and study when a sound like a wind, accompanied by a green flame, came in through the fireplace, and a sealed scroll rolled out from the cold hearth. The pair stopped their tasks when they heard the mail's arrival, and Celestia, after letting the quill drop back to the wood of the desk and allowing her horn's glow to die out, levitated the parchment from the fireplace to herself.

"What is it?" asked Princess Luna, her curiosity peaked as she too strayed from her reading material, a document marked with the seal of a foreign government.

"A letter from Twilight," came the response as Celestia smiled to herself, undoing the bindings as she did.

"Read it aloud," petitioned Luna, smiling as well, "Perhaps something interesting, or even comical has occurred in Ponyville."

"Let us hope that whatever it is," began the princess as the letter was unfurled in her magic's grip, "it is nothing dire."

"The realm has been quiet for long enough," admitted the Princess of the Night, "For irony's sake, the time for something malicious to happen could be nigh."

"No such thing," Celestia said as she laughed quietly to herself, "The writing is too legible for it to have been written in haste. Perhaps another letter regarding a friendship lesson, or a question she couldn't wait to ask."

The scroll levitated in front of the alicorn's nose, and Luna waited eagerly from her seat for her sister to begin reading.

"Dear Princess Celestia," the ivory mare said theatrically as she began narrating the letter.

"I do not know if you could see it from Canterlot, but we had a meteor shower last night."

The princess paused as she finished the opening sentence, furrowing her brow as she looked, concerned, to her counterpart on the far side of the room. Her sister spoke her thoughts exactly.

"There should not have been a meteor shower last night," Luna said of equal concern, "I had no part in it, and the observatories predicted no such thing."

"I know," admitted Celestia slowly.

"Could this be..." Luna said quietly to herself before refocusing on the letter, "Well go on, keep reading. What else does it say?"

Princess Celestia inhaled deeply, and continued in earnest, trying hard to remain objective.

"As I was unaware of a meteor shower predicted for last night, I investigated every record and document at my disposal, and was not able to find anything confirming that last night's meteor shower was a natural event. As a result of this, I felt predisposed to try and find out what did cause this phenomenon. Based on my calculations and reasoning, I believe it is possible that an object, or several, of a massive nature entered our atmosphere last night, causing the subsequent 'meteor shower' Spike and I observed. To add to the sighting last night, we witnessed a column of smoke in the mountains a few miles outside of Ponyville this morning. On the off chance that it may be related to the events of last night, I have taken it upon myself..."

"What does it say?" asked Luna concernedly as her sister trailed off, her voice no longer accompanying her reading eyes.

She stood, vacating her seat as her deep blue eyes filled with a dull fire.

"Sister," the dark alicorn pressed, her tone grim, "if this is in accordance with Star Swirl's predictions of old, we could have a crisis to worry about."

The white alicorn turned to her sister with a look of worry, the letter falling to the desk.

"She's going to investigate."