*** Somalia ***

It isn’t a boat that has been built for long voyages. But, of course, it hasn’t made the trip under its own power. Instead, it has been dropped off near the coast by a South Korean-marked freighter. The crew of the freighter only knows they are deploying a small boat for re-sale.

They use the ship’s crane to lower the small Chinese made landing ferry into the water. Even with the JAC 4R3 pickup in 43-foot boat, it still has no trouble lifting it off the deck and placing it in the ocean. Boarding the boat is easy enough as the ships ramp is lowered for the small boat’s crew to board.

The small boat makes its way to the Somali coast. The two-man crew watching the shoreline with binoculars. As they get closer, they see the flashing lights. The signal they have been looking for. Turning the bow of the boat to the shore, they run the small craft aground on the beach.

Moments later, a group of men run down onto the beach with automatic weapons in hand.

Calmly, one of the crew men walks down, lighting a cigarette, “Bashir!”

The men stop and look at each other.

“Bashir, which one of you is Bashir?” The man says as he pulls the lever, dropping the front ramp onto the sand.

“I am.” One man says, walking down the beach, “And who are you, Christian?”

“My name isn’t important, but we have what you need for the job.” Using his foot, he kicks open the top of a dark green crate. “One TY-90 Quad launcher, it should mount nicely on the back of the truck.”

Several of the men run over to look at the missile system. After they verify it is what they were told it is, they begin to carry some of the crates of missiles off the boat, laughing.

“And all this, for us shooting down one aircraft?” Bashir says, walking forward and looking at the Chinese made pickup.

“You will need to be camped out near the border, but we will contact you with flight information.” Smiling around the cigarette, the man hands Bashir a sat phone and GPS system. “We will provide you with the information as we get it. But if you succeed, another five million will be donated… to your cause.”

“These aren’t American missiles.” Bashir says curiously.

Shaking his head, the man grumbles, “Nope, we are supplying you with Chinese made. Always nice to be able to place the blame on them. They are the Tianyan series, Celestial Swallows.”

“Americans and their games. As long as the money is paid, all will be good.” It doesn’t take too long for them to load the gear into the truck, finally Bashir and his men drive up the shore line.

Nodding the two crew break out the dirt bikes. The boat is Chinese made, and has served it use so there is no point in bringing it. Someone will claim it and find a use for it, or it will be stripped for parts. Either way it would simply vanish in a country where ships and boats disappear all the time. They will be exiting the country via Kenya, their job done.

*** North America ***

“048 x-ray and 092 x-ray, I’m showing your signals merged, please maintain one thousand feet separation though controlled airspace.”

Masquerade blinks, then looks at Fleetfoot, “A thousand feet, how are we supposed to chat at a thousand feet?”

Putting a hoof over her headset, Fleetfoot shakes her head, “Control, this is 042 x-ray, we are authorized for VFR formation flying.”

“Negative 48, we do not show you as authorized, and have no tolerance for showboating. Separate by one thousand feet.”

Masquerade taps her coms, “Control, this is Pegasus 92 x-ray, request permission to exceed control airspeed, Pegasus 48 x-ray is a heavy and I don’t want to fly behind her.”

“Affirmative, you are cleared to accelerate to five hundred knots for separation.”

“Heavy? Heavy?!!?! How do you get me as heavy?” Fleetfoot says, looking shocked.

“Oh that’s easy, cuz your pregnant, heavy with foal.” Masquerade says, then she sticks her tongue out shooting ahead of Fleetfoot.

“Mask! Get your fuzzy butt back here!” Fleetfoot says before shooting after her.

***

Katie hangs up her phone and sighs, “I can’t reach him… her…”

“Who?” Ellen looks up, still terrified.

“My brother, he still hasn’t gotten his phone replaced. And he’s apparently in flight.” With a sigh, Katie sits down.

“Why would God do this? Why would he want to turn me into a pony?” Ellen whimpers, pulling her hair down to look at the new color. Soft blueish grey locks greet her eyes, more tears threatening.

Walking over, Katie sits beside Ellen, hugging her softly, “It’s… It isn’t God. According to my brother you were always one, but you were cursed.”

“Do you know how stupid that sounds?” Shaking her head, Ellen whimpers, “What are my parents going to say?”

“I don’t think we should tell your parents yet. They might do something… like trying to have demons exorcized from you. Really, that’s not what you need.”

“Then what do I need? What do I do?” Ellen looks to Katie desperately, her eyes searching for any answers.

Looking down at her phone Katie sighs, “I… I…” Shaking her head, she takes a deep breath, “Trust me on this.” Looking at her phone, she cycles through, then she searches the phone book, looking for phone numbers.

Ellen stands up and starts pacing the apartment again, “You’re the only one I can trust right now.” Looking at her face in the mirror Ellen shivers, “So your brother went through this too?”

“Kind of.” Katie sighs, then she gets up, “Be back in a moment.”

Walking into the bathroom, she closes the door and locks it before sitting down on the toilet. Taking a deep breath, she dials the number and waits for an answer. It only takes three rings before someone picks up.

“I know you can trace this call, and I know this is going to sound crazy but, I need to be transferred to someone who knows about the ponies from Equestria. I have a friend that’s changing and I don’t know what to do.”

*** NCIS/CID/OSI Headquarters Quantico ***

“Is Fleur around or is she still at the boot camp, Agent Wilks?”

Anthony blinks looking up from his desk, “Yes sir. She’s taking a few days off for a wedding.”

“She’s getting married?” The director asks.

“No sir, Velvet, her teacher is. Why, what’s up?” Anthony leans back from his computer.

The director shakes his head, “Have someone on the switchboard calling in for help. A friend of theirs is changing.”

“Who’s turn is it?” Anthony inquires as he stands up.

“I’ll give it to OSI, Goldie’s the only pony we have right now.” The director says as he taps something on his phone.

“When is NCIS getting any pony staff? We can’t have all the fun.” Anthony says as he walks over to Fleurs desk to get a file.

“So far, never. Navy and marines don’t keep ponies.” The director says.

Huffing, Anthony shakes his head, “Elite racists… or should I say speciests. I’ll take the call if Goldie isn’t available.”

***

“US Airforce Office of Special Investigations, very special agent Goldie speaking.” Crossing her forelegs Goldie adjusts her headset as she lay on the pillow beside her desk.

“I… I have a problem. Do you know anything about the ponies from Equestria?”

Looking at her hooves, Goldie tries not to giggle at the question, “I know some things, I can find more if needed, who am I talking with?”

“Oh, my names Katie Sanders, my brother changed, now my best friend is changing, I need help. I don’t know what to do or how to handle this.”

“First thing to do is to breath, don’t panic, and don’t let your friend panic.” Goldie sighs and checks her book. “Is your friend in the military?”

“No, and she can’t go home. Her parents…”

Goldie puts a smile on her face and tries to sound confident. “Don’t worry, its something that happens. Would you like someone to come over and help?”

“I don’t know how she’d take to that. She was scared to even let me know.”

“Do you know her name?” Goldie inquires as she checks her computer.

“Ellen.” Katie sighs.

Goldie shakes her head, “I mean her pony name, her true name.”

“Oh, no, no idea about that.”

“Okay I’ll have someone over to sit with you two till I get there. Don’t worry, it will be someone safe.” Goldie says, “Do you want me to stay on the line with you or leave now?”

“I… I guess I’m ok.” Katie says, worry evident in her voice.

“Just remain calm, and have her stay calm too, give her some tea, maybe some carrot cake or something like that. Try cooking something together. She should stay off of meat, so work with her on some veggie comfort food.” Goldie says as she downloads directions.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you too, all ponies need a friend, especially at this time of their lives.” Goldie says, getting up.

Hearing the other party hang up, she shakes her headset off and logs off her computer. Pulling up her socks, Goldie grabs a scarf and snaps it around her neck before calling out, “John, I need car and driver out front.”

“Umm, Why?” The agent looks over and down at the pony.

“Because I can’t drive any of our cars, the trip is too far to walk, and at three and a half hours’ drive, its quicker than driving to the airport, waiting for our jet, and such.” Goldie says as she turns sideways and sticks her hind leg out, “My legs are just too short to reach the pedals.”

Covering his face, John shakes his head. “Why are you going?”

“Because a pony is needed, I’m asking the 520th to send a pegasus over, but they can’t stay too long. So I’m going to go help them and figure out what the best route is for them.” Goldie says, “Besides the call came in from family of an Air Force member.”

“Fine, just don’t forget to file the travel expenses and such with HR.”

Nodding, Goldie makes a break for the door, almost bowling over an NCIS team as she runs past the elevator. “Coming through, hot hooves!”

“That patented stare still doesn’t work on the ponies’ boss.” Was about as far as he got before correcting himself, “Not that it ever stopped working on me, of course.”

*** South Pacific ***

The destroyer cuts a swath through the water, its massive General Electric turbines screaming at full power, while its Caterpillar Bravo engines pound away with every gauges maxed out. Every scrap of power the ship can generate is being diverted to its twin propellers that spin madly though the water leaving a trail of bubbles that mix with the ships wake.

Engineering staff watch closely, trying to keep as much coolant, or cold water, going to the engines, with sea water being flushed through the pipes at maximum capacity. Even the ships own water stores are being used to help cool the massive engines. The noise is deafening in the engine room, and every crew member there has ear protection on.

“Meteorologics says the storm will hit this area in eight hours.” The XO says, watching the captain pace on the bridge.

Stepping onto the bridge, an engineer gives a quick salute, his ear protectors still on. “Sir, we are holding just under the redline on all four engines, we can’t push them any harder, safely. The chief says he doesn’t want to stay at this level longer than thirty more minutes.”

“How long till we reach the debris field?” Captain Stevenson asks, looking over at the navigator.

“Cutting it close, maybe an hour? But that will only give us six hours, at best, to look. We’ll be pushing the towfish to its limits.” The navigator says as she plots a course on the table.

“Chief’s not gonna like this.” The tech says, “Why are we pushing it so hard?”

Captain Stevens looks out the window. “I… I don’t know… Maybe Do left some of her magic on this ship. Left some of her magic with us. I just know we have to hurry, I know we are going to find something.”

Commander Cruze looks over at Captain Stevenson sternly, “Keep talking like that and people will start thinking you’re going pony.”

Looking over, the Captain shakes his head, “Can’t you feel it though?”

Commander Cruze sighed, “I think we all can, that’s why no one’s seriously questioning the urgency. I think we all feel that need to be there.”

Reaching up, the navigator gives the stuffed Daring Do a squeeze as she stares at the map. Closing her eyes for a moment, she quickly opens them, checking one of the other charts before making an adjustment to the course on the map. “Sir, given the wind and waves we have, I think I have the best area we can search in the time we have.”

Looking at the XO the Captain shakes his head, “Even the new crew can feel it in the ship.”

*** Pennsylvania ***

Katie smiles at Ellen, noting the slow changes in hair and eye color as she works. She had grown up Mennonite as well, so both of them knew their way around the kitchen. They were not chef trained or anything like that, but both had parents who followed the belief that women should cook.

“But why carrot cake? I never liked it.” Ellen says with a huff.

Katie laughs, “That’s simple, because it’s a recipe that I don’t have to shop for goods for. I don’t have any fresh berries.”

“I noticed, what is with you and frozen strawberries and frozen bags of mango, orange, and lemon wedges?” Ellen inquires with a smile.

“I like my smoothies, okay?” Katie huffs, “Its my idea of a treat.”

“No meat, no fish, just fruit and vegetables.” Ellie says wistfully, looking at the food.

“Oh come on, you didn’t eat much steak or bacon to begin with. Chicken isn’t that big a loss either.” Katie says as she works on the cream cheese frosting before stepping aside to let Ellie put the cakes in the oven.

“It just seems so bland, so few options.” Ellie says and picks up a raw carrot with a sigh, starting to munch on it. “Besides I still can’t believe I’m a pony. There must be some mistake.”

A knock at the door causes the two girls to pause and look at each other. Gulping, Katie walks up to the door, looking though the eyehole turning side to side a bit. Turning she looks at Ellie, “it’s fine, no ones…”

Another knock at the door cuts off Katie’ speech, followed by a happy voice, “Hello? Katie? We’re friends of Masquerade.”

Carefully opening the door, Katie looks down, standing at the door are a pair of pegasi. Both look up and smile brightly, both are wearing what looks like flight uniforms, complete with goggles, while one actually has an insulated pizza delivery bag strapped between her wings.

“Hi, I’m Drizzle, this is Jetstream, we were asked to stop by and check up, make sure you’re doing okay.” Drizzle says, smiling.

Poking her head over Drizzles flank, Jetstream smiled, “I brought pizza, if that’s alright.”

“Oh my gosh.” Ellie stands there, blinking. “They are just. Too. Cute.”

Jetstream squeaks and hides behind Drizzle as she starts blushing.

“Ohh. No Ellie. Ponies can call other ponies cute, but when humans do it…” Katie tries her best to look stern as she says that.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I… hey wait, I’m becoming a pony too.” Ellie says.

Drizzle puts her hoof over her muzzle, shaking her head. “And that’s bunnies. You can’t call bunnies cute, ponies it's fine. Can we come in?”

Smiling, Katie opens the door, stepping aside for the two little ponies. “Welcome in.”

Drizzle trots in and stops, turning to help Jetstream unload two large pizzas from her backpack. “Sorry we were stopping off for dinner before we got the call. So how’s Masquerade doing?”

“I… I don’t know, I haven’t really talked to him since the change.” Katie says, looking away for a second.

“Its hard to adapt to at times. I saw Masq a few days ago, and she seemed as silly as she was before the change.” Drizzle says.

“I don’t really want to talk about it right now.” Katie says softly and sits down.

Streams looks between the two, then up at Ellie, “Um, would you like some pizza Shoeshine? It’s apple, caramelized onion, fennel seed, and cheese.”

“Pizza?” Ellie looks down at the pizza, blinking, “With apples?”

Streams nods, “Pizza is the greatest thing ever, it solves all problems, and makes everyone feel better. It can be thin or thick crust, stuffed or not, it could be topped with anything. Then its able to be eaten as anything, breakfast, lunch, dinner, desert, treats, snacks, or such.”

“Shoeshine?” Katie blinks looking confused as her brain catches up to what was said.

“Oh that, um, it means Streams likely knew Ellie in her pony form back home.” Drizzle fluffs her wings as she sits down, “I don’t know how it works. But, we can see humans, even pictures of them and remember who they were as ponies. If we knew them, that is. Its like something in our minds still recognizes other ponies.”

“Oh goodness, Katie, you have to try this.” Ellie says, holding out a piece of pizza. “It’s incredible. Thank you Streams, you’re such an angel.”

Groaning, Streams covered her muzzle with a foreleg. “No, I’m not an angel.”

“Face it Streams, that this is the point where we are going to give you the call sign Angel.” Drizzle says, laughing.

“Oh please don’t… I don’t want to be associated with that psychopathic bunny.” Streams whimpers as she lays her ears down.

“So will I have wings?” Ellie asks, looking at Jetstream’s wing curiously.

“Umm.” Drizzle sits down on her haunches and starts nosing her PDA a few times before clearing her throat. “Shoeshine.”

Her PDA cheerfully answers back, “Showtime.”

Blushing a bit, Drizzle looks up, “Sorry, it still has trouble sometimes with my accent. Shoe Shine.”

“Shoeshine.”

“Could be worse, think of Thistle Whistle trying to use it.” Jet Stream says, spreading a wing out to poke Drizzle.

“Do you two usually come out to help new ponies?” Ellie inquires as she looks at the two.

“Nope, we were just in the area, so we got dispatched for this. Usually we do things like handing out tickets.” Jetstream says, holding up a ticket book.

“Tickets?” Both Ellie and Katie look at each other, blinking.

“Yeah, for ponies speeding, flying through restricted air space, causing traffic jams. That sort of stuff.” Streams says.

“Got it, Shoeshine, female Earth pony with a light blue coat, periwinkle mane, fandango eyes, and a cutie mark of two interlocking horseshoes; one gold and one silver.” Glancing between the information and Ellie, Drizzle smiled brightly, “Yep, its you.”

Drizzle shows Ellie a picture for a moment, then she gets back to reading, “Lets see now, second in command of the plant team, you like, or have a thing for carrots. Well now.”

“What?” Ellie blinks, looking over, “And what, an earth pony?”

“It means your good with planting and growing. Your special talent isn’t listed, but I think you’re actually a teamster.” Drizzle adds.

“Special talent?” Ellie and Katie blink, looking at each other again.

“Each pony tends to have something they are really good at, and love doing. Not always as a job but still. In your case linked horse shoes, and references to pulling carts. I think you were part of the teamsters. Working with other ponies to pull massive loads. It means your legs are going to be super strong. You make reference to having extra cartloads of goods. So you worked with the farmers.”

“Last night I thought I was raped, now I’m turning into some kind of freakishly strong earth pony?” Ellie sighs and rubs her face.

“Could be worse, at least you’re not changing genders.” Streams says, looking hopeful.

“Yeah…” Katie says, looking down and sighing.

“Oh… Katie. I’m sorry I didn’t think…” Streams sighs and turns her head away, flattening her ears.

“Its okay. I just… have to figure that out still myself.” Katie says somberly.

***

“Well you’re a braver mare than I am, wearing that.” Lightning Dust says as she looks at me.

Dusts living room is just packed with all of the mares and fillies, a final gathering before the wedding. Pillows have been tossed around on the floor since there aren’t enough chairs or sofa spots. The room itself is starting to look a little small with all the bodies.

I droop my ears in a blush and look down, pawing at the ground with one hoof. “This wasn’t my idea.”

Ah-Pee laughs cheerfully “Darn tootin’, if it was up to her she’s be in pants and a jacket.”

Fleur walks around me slowly with her tongue sticking out, “You put on a little weight since the last fitting.”

Stomping my hoof, I let out a huff. “I’m pregnant! Its not my fault. And I can hardly walk in this.”

“Hey, you just need to make it down the aisle.” Mindy says with a laugh as she bounces on the spot. “This is going to be the best party the farm has seen. It’s the exact morale boost everypony needs.”

“My mom’s here. Everyone and everypony is all showing up.” I say and sigh, “The Lt is giving me away. Why am I so worried?”

“First, this is Princess Twilight Sparkle, and Rainbow Dash of the Wonderbolts parents getting married. It’s a big deal to everypony. Humans, not so much.” Fleur says as she moves up to give me a nuzzle.

“Except for bronies!” Cipher pipes in, bouncing, “Bronies everywhere would love to see this too.”

I just cover my face with a groan.

With a glair to Cipher, Fleur continues, “Second, it’s your first true love. Of course your going to have butterflies. If someone tries to say that butterflies are so pretty in Fluttershy’s voice I will zap them.” Fleur says, looking at Mindy.

With a glance to Mindy I can see she’s biting her tongue, her ears perked as if she’s fighting the urge.

Sea Swirl giggles, “Oh Celestia, I know I’m the newcomer here but this just feels so much like home. So much like Equestria all of a sudden.”

“Wait till the singing starts.” I say with a smile. “Us ponies do actually do group singing.”

Helen laughs softly, “I know, some sing more than others, but I’ve watched songs spread.” Scratching Dust behind an ear she sits down a tray of mixed vegetables and dip.

Trotting over to the dressing horse I touch my horn to its forehead and do a quick teleport. With a flash of light, the plastic and wire horse is standing where I was, and I’m standing where it was. The only other difference. Its wearing the wedding dress.

“Okay, now you’re showing off.” Sea Swirl laughs.

“Nope, all the girls know how to do that.” I say, and before I can finish,

“Week four.” Comes as a chorus from all the unicorn club.

A tap at the door has Dust looking up, “Who is it?”

“A cold, tired, and pregnant mare.” Fleetfoot calls back.

“Sorry. We already have one.” Cipher calls back with a laugh.

Rolling her eyes, Dust walks over and opens the door. “Hey you two, how was the flight?”

Masquerade smiles as she steps in, “It was okay, a little bit of turbulence, and as always the food was pretty bad. They need to serve better food on those long flights.”

Fleetfoot gives Masquerade a light smack with her wing. “It was an okay flight, Masq’s just complaining because I wouldn’t let her stop at an IHOP on the way.”

As I lay down I find myself almost instantly at the center of a pile. With Ballad and Sugarberry snuggling against me, “Girls, come on, its not cold in here.”

Helen steps into the kitchen and brings back hot cocoa and marshmallows for everypony. Her home made hot cocoa smells wonderful, with a dusting of cinnamon.

Cipher lowers her head for a moment before looking back at Helen, “No alcohol in this?”

Helen shakes her head, “With pregnant mares? Not a chance.”

“Thank you everypony and everybody. Ugg, can I just zap Hellen into a pony for tonight? Make it ponies night?” I say with a smile.

“No, no zapping.” Dust says firmly.

“Yeah, magic doesn’t solve every friendship problem.” Cipher says with a firm nod.

“Friendship problem?” I find myself asking. “I’m not my daughter.”

“Nope. But we know where she gets it from.” Mindy counters causing an uproar of laughter.

“Your special day.” Masquerade starts to sing, then does her best to try and look innocent. Unfortunately, the damage is already done.

“We celebrate now, the pony way.” Ballad picks up the song cue as the music starts filling the air.

All the girls lean against me a moment, “Your friends are all right here.”

Helen smiles and takes a picture with a camera before heading to the phone.

Dust spreads her wings, pointing to the camera, “Won’t let these moments disappear because…”

All the girls chip in singing, “Love is in bloom, a beautiful bride…”

***

“It’s okay Helen, let Pat know I’m fine.” Chuckling, Tommy turns his truck down the side trail, “I’m just checking up on the foals.”

The small Lightning Electric pickup truck makes its way down by the lake, its lights illuminating the path way. “Yes I know Helen, but they are still foals. We built the club house, I don’t want something breaking and them getting hurt because of it.”

Pulling up, he parks the truck, “I’ll call you when I get back to the barn.”

Hanging up, Tommy gets out of the cab and picks up his flashlight. The clubhouse is dark, but that doesn’t mean the foals aren’t there, they could simply be taking a nap. Walking up the ramp, Tommy calls out, “Feather? Cookie? Candy?”

There is no response, but the door had been left open a bit. Blinking a bit, Tommy kneels down and opens the door, “Girls are you in here?”

Shinning the light across the room, Tommy sees the three ponies laying on the floor, not moving. Blinking he takes a step forward before he feels something. An amber glow quickly surrounds him before he is flung backwards out of the house.

Slamming backwards against a tree the loud crack of his hard hat hitting the wood sounds like a baseball bat hitting a fast ball pitch. Tommy tastes copper in his mouth as he slides down the tree, the flashlight slowly rolls out of his left hand.

The unicorn steps out from the tree house, holding the three foals in his magical grasp. Glancing towards Tommy the unicorn shakes his head. “She’s too distracted about her own affairs, to concerned with herself to even notice her foals. What a pitiful mare.”

Turning, the unicorn walks off carrying the foals, his chuckling filling the night as he vanishes into the darkness.

Slowly, as his consciousness fades, Tommy’s right hand opens, his phone sliding out of it as darkness envelopes him. The faint sound of a phone dialing coming from the speaker, then a click.

“Hello? Hello! Tommy, is something wrong?” Comes the tinny voice.

***

“Captain, debris! Port side, bearing 032.” Calls out a lookout.

Captain Stevenson looks at the map, “Make speed eighteen knots, drop the tow fish.”

“More debris, light stuff! Bearing 116, starboard side.

Grabbing his binoculars, Captain Stevenson walks up to the window, “Have the RIB teams ready, we’ll deploy them when we start seeing larger items.”

“Aye sir.”

Looking up from her maps, the navigator shakes her head. “Sir, I’m curious, are they going to keep pulling staff out of active duty for their 25th birthday?”

“I hope not, at this rate though, they might end up putting a minimum age of 25 to join service.” The XO says, looking across the bridge.

“What is the admiralties fear of the brumbies?” The navigator asks as she checks her charts again.

“Ponies, neither the admiralty nor the politicians will even dignify calling them brumbies, they’re ponies.” The Captain says, putting his binoculars down and rubbing his eyes. “Essentially they want to deny their existence. Anyone that changes are no longer considered citizens of Australia, so they can’t be part of the military.”

“Sir, given the waves, I think we should change our heading to 017, to run the edge of the field first.” The navigator says, “I think the debris is drifting east south east.” The Navigator says, looking up.

XO Cruze makes a face for a moment, but Captain Stevenson raises his hand, “If the debris is being pushed that way, a tow fish run along the edge will give us a baseline and might pick up the airplane’s transponders. Let’s give it a try.”

“No debris on port side.” One of the spotters calls out.

“Concentrate on starboard.” XO Cruze says, walking over to the windows himself.

“Belay that, lets keep two spotters on the port.” Captain Stevenson said, “Just to be safe.”

The XO nodded looked back at the Captain. “Yes sir.”

“Sonar, anything on passives?” Captain Stevenson asks the sonar team. Normally used to detect submerged threats the system could be dialed into the frequencies the black box pingers used.

“Negative, no contacts other than surface traffic.”

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like?” The navigator asks.

“What what would be like?” The XO says, looking over the charts.

“Becoming a pony?” She inquires as she looks around the bridge.

The Captain shakes his head, “You weren’t here when Do changed, it was pretty scary and hectic. We didn’t know what was going on at that time, but even then.”

“Don’t look at me.” Commander Cruze says, “I’m a career officer. I’d never give this up for a set of hooves. Besides, its only those who are turning 25 that have to worry. You still have a year or so to go. So don’t worry about it.”

“Captain! Debris, port side. Bearing 355, range 500 meters. I think there’s a pony on it.”

“A pony?” The XO breaks out his binoculars and matches bearings. “I think he’s right.”

“Get a RIB in the water, now! Helm slow us to eight knots, make course 040, keep our broad side to it. Don’t loose sight of it in the swells.” The captain’s orders are met with a flurry of activity as the small inflatable boat is dropped off the side of the destroyer and begins racing towards the debris.

The RIB’s hydro jet shoots the boat through the waves as the rescue and recovery crew ducks down, holding on to the crash bars. Slowing as they approach the wreckage, a pair of sailors pull the body onto the boat. Moving the foal to the back of the boat, they pull the wreckage onboard to before heading back to the ship.

“Captain, they are bringing back a foal. They think it’s actually alive.” The radio operator says in shock.

“I’ll meet them at the hoist.” The captain says sternly.

Blinking, the navigator smiles, “Wow, I wish I could see one.”

“You’re with me then, nav.” The captain says, smiling and headed down to the boat winch.

The RIB is hoisted up and locked in its cradle on deck. One of the sailors carefully picks up the foal wrapped in a rescue blanket. The little peach pink foal is drifting in and out of consciousness as the Captain takes a hold of her.

“She’s probably been without food or water for days. We’ll need to get her to the ships doctor.” The Captain says as he turns.

Turning her head for a moment to look at the navigator the foal whimpers, “You came for me Meadow Flower.”

***

The white pickup truck rolls to a stop a few miles from the border. Quickly, three men dismount, all members of the Al-Shabaab. Working as a team, each knows their job. They begin by quickly extending the outriggers and using the hand crank to lower the pads to the ground. The second is laying out a heat defusing camouflage net over the front of the vehicle. The third jumps into the back of the pickup to start up the generator.

As the generator comes to life, so does the QW launcher. Four missiles mounted in two box launchers on either side of a center post. At the top of the post, a camera and laser ranger finder allow for 360 degree targeting. Servos hum as the camera tilts up and down with the missile launchers mimicking the motions. Internal diagnostics check all the systems as the deadly machine comes to life.

These missiles could intercept and destroy anything from a cruise missile to a jumbo jet. Fired from close range, an airplane would have very limited response times to such a threat. And unlike other missiles of its type, it uses an image of the aircraft, rather than infrared, so flares won’t work.

The beeping of the phone catches the attention of the man working on the launcher. Reaching down, he pulls up the antenna before answering. “Yes?”

Smiling he picked up the binoculars. “Yes, I see it, It’s a business jet.”

A plane is most vulnerable during take offs and landings. At low altitudes, low speeds, a planes options are very limited. An aircraft in landing configuration takes time to accelerate and climb away.

“It has been a pleasure doing business with you, American.”

The man who had been laying the camo net picks up a small TV screen and kneels beside the truck. Wiggling a few controls he smiles and makes a few adjustments. He can see the image of the S-21, its landing gear down as approaches the airport.

The launcher spins as the camera locks onto the plane, feeding information to the missiles, a quick pulse from the laser lets the launcher know the target is in range. At under five miles, the Sukhoi aircraft won’t have a chance to get away.

Smiling, the man flicks off two safety covers over switches, “Ready.”

Hanging up the phone, the man hops off the bed of the truck, taking cover behind the cab. “Fire.”

As the first switch is thrown, there is a loud pop. The missile bursts from the launcher and accelerates towards the business jet. A trail of white smoke following it as it accelerates. A moment later, the second switch is thrown. That missile arcs up a bit before zeroing in on the jet as well. The hiss of their engines filling the morning air as they snake out, hunting their target.