Author’s Note: There is some original text/dialogue in this chapter lifted from Hands that I claim no credit for.

The moon was rising into the sky, the light from the sun fading over the horizon, and Ponyville was no darker than it had been at midday. It wasn’t torches that lit the town, nor was it arc lamps, but electric incandescent light bulbs. To streetlamps to the buildings themselves, was pumped massive amounts of power provided by the distant hydroelectric dam that had suddenly seen an increase in practical uses.

Instead of a handful of arc lamps for the entire town, every individual building had at least one incandescent light bulb.

Andrew glanced around at the brightness of the train station, a little shocked. When he’d left, It was still using kerosene lamps. He adjusted his pack, straightened his pith helmet, and stepped out into the streets, marveling at the brightness he hadn’t seen in so long.

To think this was all because of her. His friend. “A simple marine from Vermont”, as she described herself.

The cool night breeze swept through the street, making him shiver and zip up his jacket further. It was almost summer, why was it so cold?

He felt like he’d taken a backseat to his whole life recently. Melissa had done more in months than he’d done in almost a year.

That was probably why he’d gone looking for more human outposts. Needed some alone time.

He passed a telegraph pole being repaired by a work crew, pegasi lifting the heavy cable back up and making sure it stayed where it was. The cable ran from beyond the horizon all the way to a new building near the center of town.

Human design, pony built. brick, mortar, and concrete, unlike the wood of the structures around it. Dozens of cables wound their way through the streets, splitting off from power lines to meet at the building.

The telegraph poles were similar to telephone poles back on Earth, possessing a dual-purpose of carrying telegraph signals and electricity to the lights in town.

Mass telegraphy. Another innovation made by a “simple marine”. Something that had never occurred to him in all the time he’d spent in Equestria.

It had made half the postal service obsolete, and given capabilities to the average person previously only accessible by high-level unicorns.

Andrew didn’t hate Melissa for anything she’d brought.

Not much.

Actually, he had no idea what to feel. Maybe a hint of jealousy. God, I feel like an idiot.

So many things were here because of her. So many simple, stupid little things. Why was I working as a handyman? Unclogging people’s drains...what is wrong with me? I could’ve made a ton of money!

He shrugged to himself, Well, I do make money now. And I get to use my degree finally...

Perhaps it was just jealousy. He’d done a lot of thinking on his expedition. Her arrival made everything better, hadn’t it? He had someone to talk to, who would understand his references, who had copious amounts of pop culture stashed away. She even had a bunch of new stuff, and not just things he’d missed by being away. Sealab 2021 may have been a decade old, but he hadn’t heard of it, and it was hilarious.

“If you’re lookin’ for me, you better check under the sea, cuz that is where you’ll find me, underneath the sealab, underneath the water...sealab at the bottom of the sea…” he muttered to himself, singing the song that had been stuck in his head for the last week. He didn’t know why. The last time he’d seen the show had been before he left Canterlot.

Canterlot. He looked at the city glowing on the distant mountain. He rarely saw Melissa anymore. Maybe that was the reason for his weird thinking. Or maybe it had something to do what he’d found.

When the marine set upon improving the state of pony technology like a madwoman, she’d moved to the city, something about not being able to expand in Ponyville. Rarity and Rainbow would occasionally go and visit her in her home.

He had not. He had sent telegrams, but not much else.

He kicked himself mentally. He shouldn’t be feeling sorry for himself. I need to talk to her. I need to tell her about...everything. That comes first. And maybe then I could sort all these feelings out.

Andrew reached the library, and out of habit, checked the mailbox. Inside was an orange envelope. A telegram.

Noting it was a little late for mail delivery, Andrew shrugged to himself and opened it.

Reading it, his face drew into a frown, “Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.”

The address was Melissa’s new home in Canterlot.

Andrew knocked on the library’s door, knocking sand off his boots as he waited.

The door opened, and Andrew looked down to see Spike looking up at him with a slightly surprised look. He nodded at the human, then turned back, “Twilight, Andrew’s back!”

From one of the other chambers of the library came the clatter of books falling. Minutes later, Twilight galloped out. They met in the center, sharing an embrace.

She grinned, “Andrew! Why didn’t you send a message saying you were coming home today?”

“Telegraph lines aren’t out to the town I was in. Pretty weird one, middle of nowhere. I had to hike from the train station to get to it, and…”

“Never mind, how are you? Come on in! Spike, get some tea! I’ll send Owlowiscious to Fluttershy--”

Andrew set his bag down, “I’m fine, but when was the last time you checked the mail?”

Spike quickened his pace out of the room, feeling Twilight’s gaze burn into his back.

“Why?”

The human handed her the open envelope, and she took it.

“Southern Equestrian Telegram” was typed across the top of the form, above the row of dates, serial numbers, and other data that accompanied every telegram sheet.
Below lay the message itself, written in all caps. Morse code had its limitations, and several words were abbreviated, but the meaning was understood.

“TO TWILIGHT SPARKLE PERSONAL STUDENT OF CELESTIA PONYVILLE GOLDEN OAK LIBRARY
FROM USMC CPL M FOSTER 184 MEADOWBROOK LANE CANTERLOT X

TWI S X YOUR BROTHER TO MARRY REPEAT MARRY IN 20 DAYS X SA DID NOT NOTIFY YOU X DO YOU HAVE PLAN OF ACTION X MESSAGE END XXX”

Andrew was slowly backing away from Twilight, whose expression slowly descended into a scowl.
Suddenly from the kitchen came the sound of Spike regurgitating a newly-arrived message. He walked back in, holding a scroll with Celestia’s official seal on it.
Such a method of communication still gave Andrew the creeps, and more than a little feeling of disgust.

Taking a moment to find a place, the dragon began to read, with his exaggerated impression of Celestia, “Dear Twilight, I apologize that you were not informed of your brother’s wedding sooner. I was under the impression that you had been until Corporal Foster brought it to my attention. I was hoping that once alerted to his mistake your brother would have the opportunity to send a message. Unfortunately, Corporal Foster outpaced him. I am taking this opportunity to say that I would very much like you and your friends to aid the preparation for this wonderful occasion of a marriage between Princess Mi Amore Cadenza and Captain Shining Armor of…”

Spike stopped reading, “Blah blah blah...nothing else significant, just what she wants us to do. The rest of the gang has been asked for.”

Twilight scowled, then with determination ordered, “Spike, pack a bag for us, then get down to the train station. Andrew, don’t unpack. Go and wake up Rainbow, so she can help get the rest of the girls up. I’m going to the telegraph station.”

Andrew tapped her on the shoulder, and preemptively stepped back just in case, “Twilight, maybe we should leave this alone till morning. At least take a second before you send off an angry message you may regret. You may be overreacting--”

She glared at him, “Andrew, dear…” she ground out the second word through gritted teeth, “Before I came to Ponyville, I had one friend, one person I trusted the most. That was my big brother! And I just found out he didn’t tell me about one of the most significant decisions of his life, and to someone I’ve never even heard of?! How am I supposed to react?!”

Andrew put up both hands, and mumbled, “Sounded stupid the moment I said it…”

XXXXX

Rainbow Dash pulled the door of the dining car shut, muting the sound of the train rocketing along. She turned to face the car, putting up a hoof to shield from the glare from the windows. Far out toward the horizon, the sun was just beginning to rise.
She glanced around, finding the car to be like many she’d seen before. On the right, a few dispensaries of serve-yourself goods, and further down the car a counter with a bored-looking earth pony stallion waiting for his shift to end. On the left were a series of round tables bolted to the floor, chairs rattling around with the motion of the train.
All except one, that is.

Andrew was slumped forward on the table, face-down near a cup of coffee. Under him, somewhat protected were a pile of papers and a journal. His arm was stuck near his head, still poised to write. His backpack was on the seat next to him, covered by the pith helmet he’d worn since Rarity had given it to him.
Something about it “fitting the archeologist image”. Rainbow didn’t object. Daring Do wore one, why shouldn’t he?

Rainbow Dash trotted over to Andrew and flicked his ear, “Wake up, sunshine. Twilight and Fluttershy are makin’ out in human form.”

Andrew sat up sharply, his glasses askew, a pen stuck to them, and he wiped drool from his chin, “What…? Where…” he rubbed his face, “What time is it? Hey, you of all people should respect people’s rights to sleep. And to respect others privacy!”

“It’s not really private if everyone knows,” Rainbow smirked, “And I’m bored.”

She went to the pot of coffee near the clerk. She poured some in a cup, then glanced at the clerk, “You got any whiskey?”

The clerk gave her an odd look, but handed over a small bottle, “Isn’t it a little early for...alcohol…?” he trailed off as he watched her pour the liquid into her mug. His expression lasted even as the pegasus gathered sugar and put that in as well, and stirred it.

She went back to Andrew’s table, and sat down. Dash realized he was staring at her, “What?”

“What are you drinking?”

Dash took one sip, and immediately, any exhaustion was gone as she coughed extremely hard. Wheezing, she replied, “Something called an irish coffee. Melissa says they’re good for keeping you awake.” she looked at it, “Boy, that stuff’s strong…I thought the bottle said whiskey…Want a sip?”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to drink alcohol in the morning.” Andrew shook his head, “And I definitely don’t think you should take drinking advice from the marine. They can drink people under the table and still be sober enough to fight.”

“Eh, they’re not so tough. Anyway, I only drink them when I’ve got something like today. You’ve got a pen on your face, bee-tee-dubs.”

Andrew rolled his eyes, and realized she was telling the truth about the pen, “Okay, I’m gonna ask that you never say that ever again. And I really don’t like you drinking that stuff.”

Rainbow grinned, “Why not?”

“Because...because. I don’t know.” he managed to get the pen unclipped from his glasses, and dropped it on the floor.

Rainbow leaned down to grab it, and felt a breeze ripple through the train. She sat up in time to see Andrew closing the window, and her cup missing from the table.

“Hey! I paid for that!”

“Better that you don’t have it. Here, actual coffee.” he handed her his cup, and slumped forward slightly, his eyelids drooping.

She glared at him, but was torn between her urge to hit him and her urge to accept a free drink. She chose the option less likely to get her thrown off the train, and picked it up.

Rainbow still had the pen in her hoof, and studied it. It wasn’t a fountain pen, and it looked like one of those newfangled ballpoint pens they could never get to work. It was obviously human-made, nothing Equestrian-made could have been this fine. It was non-reflective and matte-black, with “Fisher M4B” inscribed on the cap, and the name “M. Foster” engraved in cursive along its side.

“Did you steal one of Melissa’s space pens?” Rainbow asked, “She never lets these things out of her sight!”

Andrew snatched it back, “She lent it to me, said I might need it in the desert. Or somewhere cold. It’s a ballpoint pen that can work anywhere, in case you’re wondering.”

Rainbow nodded, “Yeah, they’re awesome. Works better than anything we’ve got, and even writes underwater! Trust me, I tried.”

Andrew didn’t even ask, instead opting for a different question, “I’ve been out of the loop for a while. Has Madame Macgyver made ballpoint pens yet?”

“Who--? No, she hasn’t. Her company’s not in pens yet.”

“Well, that’s something she hasn’t got down.” he grunted, looking out the window, “A thousand points for her, one for me. Great.”

“You alright?”

Andrew didn’t answer right away, instead staring at the spiral-bound notebook on the table. In the corner of the cover was a round logo. In the red circle were the capital letters “B” and “L” in white, and overlaid between those two was a blue circle, containing a capital “N”. B.N.L.

Melissa was such a nerd. She named her company after a disney movie.

“I don’t know, maybe? How am I supposed to feel when a friend of mine goes from some random castaway to head of one of the biggest companies on the planet?” his hands balled into fists, “And makes you feel like the biggest idiot in history.”

“Buy ‘N’ Large isn’t that big.” Rainbow Dash pointed out.

“Well, they’re certainly the most influential! I can’t name any other company in history that has nearly that same amount of hands in that many cookie jars! Toys, tabletop games, communication, movies, plays...she got Rarity in on her board of directors and got her to start producing clothes based on human fashion! Melissa’s making utility equipment, military gear, electrical engineering, engineering in general, and books! Lots of books! She did that in a few months, while in all the time I was here, I did jack diddly!”

He held up the spiral notebook, “This wasn’t around when I got here. I coulda made a ton of money, but no, I was too damn stupid to figure it out! But no, Melissa figured it out immediately, and kept all the money to herself!”

Andrew panted for a moment, then snarled, “So...no, I’m not alright.”

Rainbow raised an eyebrow, “Wait, you haven’t gotten any of the money? That doesn’t really sound like her.”

“Well, she’s the one hogging all the patents, why not all the money too?”

Rainbow sighed, “She doesn’t mean to hog all the patents, or the other cool stuff, she just thought about this sort of thing a lot back on Earth. She’s a big Destroyermen fan.”

“Don’t remind me, she keeps trying to get me to read it.”

“It’s a good series! And anyway, you’ve done pretty well yourself.”

“Yeah, worked as a handyman,” he sarcastically made an “ok” sign with his hand, “That’s real significant.”

“What do you call being the only one looking for the legacy of the lost human colonists?!” Rainbow demanded, “I mean, she may have gotten you moving, but as far as I know, you’re the only one who was! You’re the one who found the first bunker! and you...you…”
She paused to sip her drink, “What did you find out there, anyway? I didn’t keep up with events.”

Andrew seemed to brighten up a little at the distraction, and handed her his notebook, “Well, most legends of humans put them in remote areas, and I went to a few likely places. Appleloosa, Vanhoover, this really weird village up north…” he shuddered, “It was creepy. Ten miles from the nearest train station, whole place shaped like an equals sign, everyone with the same mark on their rear…”

“So...did you find anything?”

Andrew glanced out the window again, averting eye contact and scratched his head, “...Not that much. Some human remains, a few more bunkers not even close to intact...but no documents, there was nothing we could use to find out what happened.”

“Well now, see? You’re doing stuff Melissa’s not! She’s hanging around Canterlot filing paperwork for Buy ‘N’ Large, while you’re out being a stallion version of Daring Do!”

“It’s Indiana Jones, you know it’s Indiana Jones…”

Why didn’t you bring Twilight and Fluttershy?”

Andrew looked down at the floor, “I dunno. Guess I needed some ‘me’ time. Felt good to be moving around for some reason, and it felt good to get paid doing my job instead of shooting dragons or trying to mount a one-man invasion of Hell.”

He glanced at her, “Why? Were there any problems?”

Rainbow shrugged, “Not really. Well, felt a little boring without humans around town, we were all kinda used to you two. Twilight and Fluttershy were alright, I think, they just were real quiet and missed you. We did manage to have some of our own adventures though. Fluttershy built some confidence, and helped out with the Cloudsdale water resupply…”

“Really? That’s...interesting.”

Rainbow gave him a knowing smirk, “You have no idea what that is, do you?”

“No clue.”

“Whatever. Fluttershy built self-confidence, the Cutie-Mark Crusaders got into a whole thing with a newspaper...oh, and...uh…” she looked to the side, “Fluttershy, Rarity, and I kinda sorta...got involved in an incident with a dessert.”

Andrew blinked several times, “That sounds like…nope, not even gonna ask. But they weren’t too mad at me for leaving?”

Rainbow shrugged, “Ask them yourself! I’m no good with emotions. Though considering how awkward things were after the Dragon Migration, they might have at least appreciated not talking about it at all. Twilight’s still pretty angry about her brother, maybe you should deal with that.”

The car door opened, and a conductor emerged, calling out, “Canterlot, next stop!”

He noted that there were only two passengers in the compartment, and trotted up. The fact that Andrew was human didn’t register, “You folks might wanna get back to your seats. We’re pulling into Canterlot in a few minutes.”

Rainbow nodded, “We heard ya the first time.” she glanced at Andrew, “C’mon and help me wake up the gang. Rarity’s hard enough to get up as it is, and gets cranky on long trips.” Andrew nodded and put on his pith helmet, packing away his gear.

Rainbow Dash turned to walk away, but stopped, “Hey, word of advice? I’m not good with emotional..things, but I know not talking about this stuff doesn’t really help anything. If you have a problem with Melissa, talk to her, for the love of Celestia. The only two humans on the planet can’t hate each other, right?”

XXXXX

As the train approached Canterlot, reaching the outskirts of the mountain city, it was quickly apparent that something was up. A massive energy barrier formed a protective sphere around the entire city, and cast an eerie magenta glow.

The train approached the apparent edge of the city, as defined by the perimeter of the sphere, and it slowed dramatically to pass through the field.

As the vehicle slowly chuffed through, the shield could be visible passing through the train cars, and through ponies, leaving a cold shiver up their backs, but otherwise left them unharmed.

They rapidly approached the station, and Andrew could see a familiar bacon-haired--well, more red hair now than anything-- individual standing above the ponies who awaited the few other passengers on the train. Strangely enough, there were more guards on the platform than civilians, standing at each of the exits.

Andrew, Spike, and the Mane Six quickly exited the train, moving in pairs or singly toward Melissa, dragging luggage.

“Hello, Melissa!” Rarity called out, waving to Melissa.

Melissa grinned, “Hey, Rar’!”

She jogged the short distance across, and exchanged a hug with her friend.

The unicorn looked beside Melissa, “And a fine hello to you too, Silverbolt.” Rarity curtsied a little, “I trust you are well?”

A moment later, she chuckled, blushing a little, “Oh, you!”

Melissa facepalmed, “Such a kiss-ass…”

“Why darling, it’s hardly his fault if your subconscious created such a polite alienist.” Rarity retorted with a smile.

Another awkward silence, “Oh don’t you start again.” Melissa grumbled, but let out a little snort of laughter.

Andrew watched the exchange with fascination. “You still have that thing going on, I see.”

Taking notice of him as if for the first time, she replied, “Hey there. Yeah, he's still in here.” she rapped her knuckles on her head for emphasis.

Briefly, Andrew noted that the definitive streaks of blonde in Melissa’s hair were completely gone; instead, she appeared to be a natural redhead, though he could still see a few pieces of blond whenever the sun caught it.
Andrew nodded, “that's...interesting, I guess.”

He looked Melissa up and down. She still wore her N7 jacket, over her Babylon 5 t-shirt, with a camouflage military-issue cap, under which were golden sunglasses. The marine still wore her combat boots of course, battered white socks with a red band around the top...and a miniskirt. An orange mini skirt with two shades of red in stripes along one side, about the average size of shorts. Modest and functional.

His face widened in a grin, and he began to laugh, “Are you wearing...a miniskirt? You?”

Melissa’s cheeks burned, and he could almost feel her menacing gaze burn into his soul. “Laugh it up, Grandpa. Laugh it up. I can still rip your arms out. It’s a combat skirt!”

Andrew was wise to stand a few meters away. She may have been a head shorter than he was, but he knew not to mess with her...too much, “Why the heck do you always call me that?”

She pointed, “Your grey hairs.”

“My what?!” Andrew tugged futilely at his hair, trying to see it out of the corners of his vision.

“You didn’t notice?” Twilight asked, squinting as she and Fluttershy approached, “Do you just not look in the mirror?”

“And is it a crime to change one's style every now and again?” Rarity redirected the conversation, “Why, I think it's a crime not to!”

Melissa’s rage faded slightly, “we don’t have to all be Rainbow Dash! I can wear ‘girly’ clothes all I want! It’s comfortable, and functional!”

She paused, then gestured at the air, “Silverbolt agrees.”

“How can I believe you, even if he is real?”

Fluttershy drifted up between them, “Sorry to interrupt...but...Melissa, I thought you were working on your insulting tendencies…”

“I am! Dr. Wolf says I’m improving! I haven’t once called Andrew anything remotely vulgar since he got here!”

“That’s an improvement?” Andrew snorted.

Melissa looked like she was about to deliver a biting retort, but her eyes twisted over and looked at something in her field of vision.
Unexpectedly, the corner of her mouth turned upwards. She looked down at herself, “I guess it is a little unusual. And you didn’t mean anything by it.”

She glanced at Twilight, and nodded a greeting, “Hey, Twilight. I see you all got my message.”

Twilight was still in a sour mood, and merely nodded, “I got it.”

Melissa went over and crossed her arms, looking down at Twilight, “Twi’, listen. Before you go off and yell at Shining Armor, I just want you to know that he didn’t mean to forget to tell you. He’s captain of the Royal Guard for cryin’ out loud, he probably got distracted!”

Twilight rubbed her face, “That’s what everypony’s been telling me, but that doesn’t make sense! He should’ve made time! You managed to get a message out, but he couldn’t?”

Fluttershy came by her side, “Twilight, I’m sure he had a good reason…”

Andrew nodded, “And if you want, you can make him feel guilty over it.”

“Yeah!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, “If there’s anypony who can make ponies feel guilty, it's us!" Her eyes suddenly expanded to disturbing proportions as she cried. "’Wh-Why couldn't you tell me, Shining Armor? Aren't you m-my big brother?’"

Melissa took a few steps away, “Holy frakking cheese doodles, that’s creepy!”

Andrew simply had a hand clapped over his eyes, “You said guilt. That's not guilt. That's nightmare fuel."

Pinkie Pie huffed. "Maybe to you."

Rarity interjected, trying to be helpful, "And besides, it's not like you won't have a surprise for him, too," Rarity said with a knowing smile.

Melissa rubbed her face, “Oh come on! Really!? Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?!”

“Well, if you want to put it that way…”

Andrew blinked, nervously laughing, “Come on, it’s not like Twilight wouldn’t tell her big brother that...uh…”

“And my family…” Twilight added, mumbling.

“That she’s dating a mythical creature and another mare?” Rainbow Dash finished, “This is gonna be great! I’ll get the popcorn!”

Melissa smiled, “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, but I have never related to your social ineptitude more.”

Andrew was looking at Twilight, “When did you have this little thing scheduled?”

Twilight flushed, “Well, everything was so rushed, what with the company, Discord, and I hadn’t come up with a proper way to inform them…”

She coughed, “Correction. I sort of told them about you...kinda, but not about our whole...arrangement.”

“And you say your brother is the one who doesn’t update you…” Melissa groaned.

"M-maybe I could tell them...?" Fluttershy suggested. "I-I mean, I don't want to... In fact I can think of a lot of things I'd rather do instead, but um... Well... Oh dear..."

“Okay, no. Screw that.” Melissa barked, “All three of you. Here’s the thing to do. Get together, go to them, explain the situation together. No getting negotiators, no nothing. Just go and talk to them, for the love of Cthulhu.”

Rarity tried to calm everyone down, “Now, I'm sure Twilight's family and sister-in-law-to-be are very understanding ponies. Nothing to worry about! What could possibly go wrong?"

Andrew stepped away from the group and found a pillar to bang his head against.

“Was it something I said?” Rarity inquired innocently.

“Oh, if we’re getting secrets out,” Dash said, turning to Melissa, “Andrew’s been dealing with feelings of inadeq--inad--”

“Inadequacy?” Melissa asked.

“Yeah, that’s it. He’s jealous of all the money you’ve been making not getting to him.”

Melissa balked, “What? But...I sent him the account info months ago!”

“The what?” Andrew asked, returning and rubbing his skull.

“The account of money?” Melissa demanded, “Hello? I sent it to you months ago! Paperwork and all!”

“What account? I’ve been making ends meet with--”

Melissa spoke slowly, “When I started B.N.L., I set aside accounts for many different parties. Publishers, companies, writers back home who deserve the money. I also set aside some personal accounts for some friends I know. Including you. There is plenty of money in there for you to do archeology full time, or move up here and help me with tech.”

He stared at her, “Really? And how I have not heard about this?”

“That’s what I wanna know! I sent you several letters months ago! What happened? Do you just throw your mail out?!”

Abruptly, Spike interrupted, speaking from below them, “Hey, Melissa, you do know mail can get lost, right?”

Melissa looked down and locked eyes with the dragon, “Yeah, but that doesn’t happen often!”

Spike shrugged, “Maybe for you, but it happens all the time to the rest of us. That’s why I send all of Twilight’s mail through magic, so it doesn’t get lost. That’s probably what happened!”

Melissa scratched her head, “Well, that explains a whole lot of things…I’ve got the forms at home, I can get you them anytime, just say the word.”

Andrew was awkwardly silent, “Uh...thanks…”

Twilight began walking toward one of the exits, “Let’s get out of here and find my brother before this gets even more awkward.”

“What’s with all the security around here?” Applejack asked, “The shield hasn’t been put up since the war!”

The group noted that there was even more security. The guards were carrying rifles. Not muskets, nor even the rifled muzzleloaders they’d wielded a few months back, but what looked like Springfield Model 1873 breech-loading rifles. Well, modeled on Springfield rifles, they were stamped with the proof marks of the Springbok Armory.
The guards also wore steel helmets. Not medieval knights helmets, or pith helmets like some of the army had been wearing, but proper steel helmets. They looked like salad bowls with their wide circular brims, a bit like shorter and more squat steel pith helmets in shape, and were stamped with the symbol of the Household Division on the front. Andrew recognized them immediately as the British helmets he always saw in old World War I and II movies. Brodie helmets, modified for pony skulls. Behind the straps, the tips of the guards’ ears could be seen poking out, folded down.

“I’m sure they’re just taking appropriate precautions,” said Rarity, “Weddings do bring out the strangest in some ponies…”

As if on cue, Pinkie Pie sneezed, and out of her nose spewed confetti and streamers.

Everyone backed away from her on that.

Melissa said, “It’s not that, there’s been a threat on the capital.” she rolled her eyes, “I told them shields were just for emergencies, and that it didn’t need to be on 24/7. I also told her that conventional warfare defenses wouldn’t stop terrorist attacks, and that normal police and intelligence work should stop them provided the people involved are competent...but the big white…uh, queen, decided to go against my advice. Geez, you revolutionize the military, police, and economy, and that still doesn’t get you enough credit to be listened to?”

“Sugarcube, the queen knows what’s best, why don’t you listen to her?” Applejack suggested.

“Like I’m gonna trust her! And who’s the 21st century soldier here? I’m trained in conventional, asymmetrical, and urban combat!”

They approached the exit to the train station, and were stopped by a Royal Guard sergeant, armed with a revolver strapped to his side, “I’m sorry, everypony, but you’re all going to have to submit to a security search.”

Andrew rolled his eyes, “Great, it’s just like being home.”

“I know, right?” Melissa snorted, “Look!”

She pointed to a unicorn standing in the center of the exit, between two guards armed with Springfields. “Dude’s a walking metal detector.”

Dash turned to the guard, “Seriously, how do you not know us? And just what do you think we’re going to carry? Only those two are wearing anything!”

The guard had bags under his eyes, and had clearly been up all night, “Ma’am, please, just go through the checkpoint. It’s standard procedure.”

Melissa rubbed her face, “Dashie, even I had to go through it. They’re worried about everything from giant monsters to shapeshifters.”

“Shapeshifters?” the rest of the group gasped.

Andrew noted Melissa’s posture changed at the mention of the word. She was quite tense.

“Yeah, Celestia took that one into account for once.”

The guard interrupted, “Sorry, Corporal Foster, I hate to interrupt you. Sir, would you mind stepping through first please?”

Grumbling, Andrew bent down and stepped under the unicorn’s horn.

The unicorn’s horn began to flash, “Sir, please remove any dangerous items--”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill.” Andrew grumbled, and began emptying out his pockets. Miscellaneous things mainly, but of note were knives, matches, three magazines of 9mm ammunition, the L9A1 pistol he still held onto, and his pen.

He handed it all to the guard, and walked under the unicorn’s horn again.

No blinking this time.

“I’m sorry sir, but most of this stuff will have to be confiscated.” the guard stated.

“Sergeant, if you’ll allow it, I will take custody of some of those items,” Melissa said, “namely the firearm, ammunition, and the pen.”

The guard handed over the pen, and passed some non-lethal equipment back to Andrew, but shook his head, “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we can’t allow any unlicensed--”

“Sergeant, when I say ‘custody’, I don’t mean I’m gonna hand the thing right back to him. I will secure it someplace safe.”

“But--”

“Sergeant, I am a contractor, but I am your superior within your chain of command, and will pull rank if I have to. In addition, that firearm is property of the United Kingdom Armed Forces. As a member of the United States Armed Forces, which is allied with the UK as part of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, and being the only representative of said organization present, I claim jurisdiction over that weapon, and I intend to take it into custody.”

Rarity backed her up, “She is correct. I’m a lawyer, I can verify it.”

The sergeant sighed, and passed the weapon over, “Yes, ma’am. Sorry ma’am. But...please, either get him a license or keep that weapon locked up. I could lose my job.”

Melissa nodded, “Don’t worry, no matter what happens, I’ll take the fall for it.”

She looked at the rest of the guard detail, “None of you are involved in this! Don’t worry!”

Melissa glanced at Andrew, “I’ll hold onto this. You’ll get it back once you get a license.”

“But--”

“Dude, I’m a contractor, and I filled out the paperwork, that’s why I keep my guns. Paperwork now means you wouldn’t keep running into problems later.”

He begrudgingly agreed eventually..

The rest of the Mane Six passed through without incident, and they began walking through the city.

Melissa put the space pen in her pocket, and Andrew noted the motion, “So, how’s progress on making ballpoint pens?”

Melissa scowled, “Not good. I can’t figure out how they did it! It’s been driving me nuts! The most common writing tool on Earth and I can’t…”

A corner of Andrew’s mouth turned upwards, “I would’ve thought you’d have been able to make these by now, Ms. Macgyver.”

She opened her mouth to deliver a sharp retort, but rolled her eyes, inhaled, and exhaled, “I’ve been having trouble getting them made. Do you know how hard they are to make? Didn’t you see that video...”

Despite so long separated from the internet, her hand still strayed to her jacket pocket and her phone, then relaxed. “Never mind, I don’t know exactly how to make modern ones. Historically, it took a while to make them work properly, let alone economical, so I’m still working on that. Space pens are right out though, I’d need pressurized nitrogen, tungsten carbide, and plastic for that.”

“I think they made them just using ink from newspapers.” Andrew said, trying to hide a smile, then gave up upon seeing her expression, “It dries almost immediately. You just need it to have the right amount of viscosity. There’s probably some other stuff involved but that should be enough to get you going…”

“How did you--? Agh!” she rubbed her face in relieved frustration, “Oh, dammit! So freaking obvious! Ah!”

Andrew pumped a fist, “Yes, finally my knowledge base comes in handy! Dibs on the patent!”

“Fine, fine. You get stock in the company. I’ll put you on the board of directors if it’ll make you happy. Hot damn, thank you! That problem’s been bothering me for so long…”

As their conversation wound down, Twilight took the lead further into the city, “We’re going to the castle to find my brother.”

Andrew stood in her way, “Twilight, I know you want to see your brother, but maybe we shouldn’t all go. We don’t want this to become a public spectacle.”

Melissa nodded, “Roger that.” she turned to the rest of the group, and one little dragon in particular, “Spike, you know Jasper Pie’s Pizzeria?”

“Sure!”

“Take everyone there for lunch, Fluttershy, Twilight, Andrew and I will go and deal with this. Tell Jasper it’s on my tab.”

Andrew interrupted, “Wait, did you say pizza?”

“Wait, you’re coming with us?” Twilight asked.

“I--I--I’m coming too?” Fluttershy whimpered.

“Andrew, I’ll order out for us. Fluttershy, yes, that’s what I said you should do, isn’t it? Twilight, I’m the only one physically adept enough to keep Shiny and Andy from killing each other.”

“‘Shiny’?” Twilight asked, “How familiar…”

“Darling, didn’t you know?” Rarity asked, “She and your brother are quite good friends!”

Melissa nodded, “Yeah, that’s the other reason I’m coming with. Booze brings everyone together, and apparently ponies and humans aren’t much different in that respect. Also, he’s a gigantic nerd and likes my board games. Dunno how the whole dating thing didn’t come up, but who cares. We’re going, right now!”

She paused briefly, kneeling down to talk to Spike. “Spike, if I ask ‘Texas’, you say, ‘star’, got it?”

“What?”

“You got it? Don’t tell anyone I said this. And keep an eye on the others, I’m trusting you on this.”

She went to Rainbow Dash, and whispered, “If I ask ‘Normandy’, you say, ‘Beach’.”

“Huh?”

She leaned over to Applejack, “If I ask ‘barn’, you say ‘yard’.”

“Uh…”

She hesitated to approach Pinkie Pie, who was hopping up and down, “If I say ‘Dead’, you say, ‘pool’.”

“Is this a sign-countersign thing?” Pinkie asked.

Finally, Melissa spoke to Rarity, “If I say ‘Hubble’, you say ‘Telescope’.”

“Melissa, what on earth are you talking about?”

“None of you forget, but don’t tell anyone, or each other what I said.” Melissa said, then walked with the others toward the royal palace.

“What was that about?” Andrew asked.

“Nothing. If I ask you, ‘Stargate’, you say, ‘SG-1’, got it?”

“Again, what are you doing?”

“Twilight, if I ask ‘star’, you say ‘glimmer’, understood?”

“Fluttershy, if I ask, ‘Sam’, you say, ‘Max’, got it?”

All three were staring at her. “Don’t tell anyone we did this.”

“Did what? What are you doing?” Andrew demanded.

“I can’t tell you!” Melissa barked, then sighed, “I can’t tell you now. Later, okay? Let’s deal with the other drama!”

After an incident with the guards, they finally met with Shining Armor. On the battlements of the castle for some reason.

He grinned as he caught sight of his sister, and rushed over, reaching out to her, “Twily! Oh, I’ve missed you! How was the--”

She avoided his hoof and scowled at him, “How dare you?! How dare you not tell me in person that you were getting married!? I’m your sister, for pony’s sake!”

Somewhat taken aback, Shining Armor tried to explain, “It's not my fault! The queen has requested a major increase in security. Didn't you see all the guards at the train station?”

“Yeah, there's a big wedding coming up. Maybe you heard about it?” Twilight rolled her eyes.

Shining Armor sighed, “It has nothing to do with the wedding. A threat has been made against Canterlot. We don't know who's responsible for it, but Her Highness asked that I help provide additional protection.”

“Yeah, through use of an utterly unsustainable means.” Melissa grunted, “Against my advice. She doesn’t seem to understand fatigue! Keeping your troops on high alert for weeks on end without a positive verified threat or act is just...stupid.”

Shining Armor glanced her way, but kept talking to Twilight, “The burden of keeping Canterlot safe and secure rests squarely on my shoulders. Staying focused on the task at hand has been my top priority.”

Andrew guessed that a dramatic vocabulary ran in the family.

Twilight put up her hooves, possibly imitating a human gesture, “Okay, okay, I get it. You've got a really important job protecting all of Canterlot with a force field only you can conjure up. But still... how could you not tell me about something as big as your wedding? Am I not that important to you any more?”

Shining put a hoof on her shoulder, “Hey. You're my little sister. Of course you're important to me...But I'd understand if you didn't want to be my best mare now.”

“Oh, goddammit! Quit with the soap opera stuff!” Melissa burst out, making Andrew rub his face.

Twilight was heedless of the commentary, “You want me to be your best mare?”

“Well... yeah.”

Melissa opened her mouth for another spectator comment, but Andrew put a hand over her mouth. He yelped in pain when she bit down instinctively.

Twilight gasped, “I'd be honored! But I'm still pretty ticked you're marrying somepony I don't even know! When did you even meet this ‘Princess Mi Amore Cadenza’?”

Shining Armor chuckled, “Twily, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza is Cadence, your old foalsitter.”

“Cadence?” Twilight demanded in disbelief, “As in the Cadence? As in the greatest foalsitter in all the history of foalsitters?!”

Her brother laughed, “You tell me. She was your foalsitter.”

Twilight was practically squealing, “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! Cadence is only the most amazing pony ever! She's beautiful, she's caring, she's kind…”

Melissa interrupted, dragging her two compatriots with her, “Okay, hate to do this, but it must be done. Shiny, this is Andrew Shepherd, and this is Fluttershy...something, I don’t know, I don’t know her last name.”

Grinning, her gaze swept over them, “Now, isn’t there something you three wanted to tell him?”

Shining Armor’s face became a frown, “Mel, I know she’s dating him,” his eyes fixed on Andrew, big brother instincts apparent, “You told me. Repeatedly. Remember that night…? Wait, you wouldn’t.”

“Was it that night when I woke up in a barn and had to go get my phone back?” Melissa glanced at Andrew, who was attempting to form a question, “Oh, broke up an underground gambling ring doing that. Idiots couldn’t even turn it on.”

“Yeah...you weren’t exactly all there that day…” Shining Armor pointed out.

“Whatever. You two, Andrew, Shiny, you good? Are you okay with this?”

Shining Armor fixed Andrew with a cold stare, and slowly trotted forward. Looking Andrew up and down, he commented, “So, you’re the mythological creature my sister’s dating. You’re tall.”

He glanced at Melissa, then back at him, “You’re even taller than she is. That won’t help you if you do anything to hurt my sister.”

Melissa stepped between them, “Oh, cut the crap, Shiny. He’s harmless. Big sibling instinct not needed. He might a bit of a dick at times…”

“Hey!”

“...and might be reenacting about 50% of clopfics, but he’s alright.”

Shining Armor’s facade seemed to crack, and she didn’t relent.

“Now, I’m gonna do something for your own good.”

She turned to Andrew, “This guy’s the second-biggest dork here. We play board games every wednesday with a couple of other people. We started with Steve Jackson’s Ogre, and right now we’ve got a GURPS Reign of Steel game going, and he plays a spacer from Tranquility Base. I’m the GM, of course. You shoulda seen the look on his face when I killed him. He--”

“Okay, I think he gets the point!” Shining interrupted, wincing.

“No, I think I want to hear this!” Andrew grinned.

Melissa smirked predatorily at the liberal arts major, “You’re not as tough as you look either. I caught you tearing up during a certain SG-1 episode? Hmm, season five, episode twenty-one?”

“Okay, that’s a sad episode! You were--”

“Um...if you don’t mind me asking…” Fluttershy interjected, “I...how is this good for both of them?”

Heedless of the flushing and angry faces to either side, Melissa put her hands on her hips, “Simple. Make them both look stupid in each other’s eyes, so they won’t see each other as a threat.”

She turned back, “Now, is there something else you’d like to tell him?”

Before Twilight, Andrew, and Fluttershy could even begin to sweat, a new voice entered the fray. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything…?”

All turned to look at an alicorn standing at the door to one of the battlement towers. The dark-pink pony wore regalia that matched that of the queens of the land, and was slightly shorter than Luna, but taller than Shining Armor. This was obviously Princess Cadence. Few ponies in the land other than alicorns had that much of a mix of mane colors, so there wasn’t much chance of her being anyone else.

Melissa froze, her eyes locked on the princess. Cadence had frozen as well, and seemed shocked at the presence of both the marine and Andrew.

Andrew noted the marine’s breathing quickening, and her posture began to fall into a combat stance. Her eyes narrowed, scanning the environment. Her hand reached into her jacket, before falling.

“Melissa, something wrong?”

Melissa looked at him, and there was something in her eyes. Paranoia and anxiety had returned, and fear. She had completely changed.

Her voice was cool and confident. “Fuck this. You can sort out the rest of this on your own. I’m out.”

“What? Why?”

She didn’t answer, storming off.

“Melissa!” Andrew went after her, quickly lending his apologies to the rest of the group. He couldn’t keep up with her pace, quickly losing her.

He found himself lost in the palace just as quickly, and could not find anyone to give him directions.

That is, until a certain pink pony tapped him on the shoulder.

“Yagh!” he jumped and spun about, groping for a sidearm that wasn’t there.

Pinkie Pie laughed, “It’s only me, Andy! What are you doing wandering around here?”

Andrew was breathing heavily, and gasped out, “I got lost looking for Melissa! Jesus, you scared the crap outta me!”

Pinkie made a face, “Hope not literally...you’re looking for Melissa? I saw her go down one of the secret passages with her mopey face on.”

“Secret passage?” Andrew scratched his head, “What is this, Hogwarts?”

Pinkie Pie shrugged, “Well, there’s no room of tranquility that I know of...”

Shaking his head, Andrew asked, “Do you know where she went?”

He paused, then added, “Wait, you saw someone sad and then didn’t try to cheer them up? Who are you, and what have you done with Pinkie Pie?”

Pinkie grinned, “Silly, I am me!”

Her grin fell a little, “I did try cheering her up once. It didn’t go well. I think you should leave her alone. When she wants to be left alone, it’s probably a good idea to do that.”

“Well, I’m afraid I can’t do that. Where is she?”

Pinkie looked at something on her hoof, “I dunno!”

Andrew growled in frustration, “God, no matter what species, women stick together...I’m trying to help her!”

“She’s got a gun, Andrew. And plenty of bullets.”

“I just want to talk to her, I’m worried, I don’t want her to...to…”

“To what?”

“I’m trying to stop her from shooting herself!”

Pinkie stared at him in disbelief, “What?! Why in Equestria would she do that?!”

“I don’t know! Loneliness, depression?! Okay, maybe not that extreme, but she was acting freaking weird! Took one look at that princess, and just took off!”

“...And that was evidence that she was gonna…?”

Andrew facepalmed, “No, I...that was a guess. I’m just worried about her, is all! Do you know where she is?”

Pinkie grinned, “Course I do!”

Instead of doing anything, she just stood there smiling.

Taking a deep breath, the human slowly asked, “Can you take me to her?”

“I could, yes!” she kept standing there.

“I would like to see Melissa. I am worried about her. Would you kindly take me to her?”

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Pinkie asked, and grabbed his arm.

He immediately took his arm back, “Whoa! What are you going to do? Tell me exactly!”

She looked at him, puzzled, “I was going to take you to her…”

Andrew hesitated. One of the few projects he and Melissa, along with Twilight, had been able to collaborate on was investigate exactly what Pinkie Pie was, and what her capabilities were.

Their findings had been...less than satisfactory. All they knew was that she had an ability to travel extremely fast without breaking the sound barrier. Melissa’s theory was that she somehow had access to subspace.

While Andrew guessed that wasn’t truly the case, he wasn’t willing to risk life and limb.

“No, just-just lead me to her.”

She gave him a funny look, but shrugged, and began bouncing away.

Following her out of the castle, he found that night was falling; who knew how long he’d been lost in the maze.

As he and the pink pony moved deeper into the city, he noticed traces of human influence.

Some of the local fashion choices seemed less Victorian and leaning more toward comparatively relaxed clothing. Instead of top hats, frilly jackets, or complicated outfits, there were baseball caps, simple t-shirts with designs on them, regular pants, plain jackets and comfortable shoes. Though some were carbon-copies of human designs, some outfits had been modified with the Equestrian’s unique flair. Vibrant colors, interesting shapes and patterns, and Andrew noted that those Rarity had made were easy to pick out. Normal Equestrian fashions were still prevalent in great numbers, but human clothing really stood out.

He noted the use of paint rollers by construction crews, who were busy expanding the city, installing new electrical systems, or rewiring old ones.

Newsstands published the pony versions of magazines similar to “Tales to Astonish”, still featuring War of the Worlds and The Time Machine, but were slowly replacing them with other human books and stories. Novelizations of the original Star Trek episodes and Babylon 5 were pretty popular.

There were quite a few magazines and booklets with grand titles like “Images of an Alien World”, “Cities of Glass and Steel”, or “World of Wonders” featuring depictions of Earth environments and cities. The articles were partly copied from digital encyclopedias, or interviews with Melissa and Andrew himself. Some of the magazines featured more suburban titles such as “Appliances of the Future” with images of refrigerators being the most prevalent, and toasters or electric sewing machines as the runner-ups. Some primitive versions of the appliances were being tested by Buy ‘N’ Large, last he'd heard.

One magazine or another featured other technologies, like aircraft or cars, and there were even a few that were describing human history, and famous works of art.

Not all of the magazine articles were flattering. Some of the articles voiced valid concerns, “Human Influence- What does it mean for Equestrian government policies?”, “What is the Equestrian military planning to do with its new weaponry?”, “Do these humans have another agenda?”

However, even in the land of the friendliest society humanity had ever encountered, tabloids still existed.

Hand-drawn images, or those copied from photographs of Melissa adorned the covers of more than one, even after so long spending time here.

The articles usually had sensational titles, “Human Invasion Coming”, “The aliens’ moral sickness”, “Perversion of our culture”, “Dishonoring our military”, “Military spends thousands on worthless weaponry”,or Andrew’s personal favorite, “Fairy tale monster caught corrupting the youth”. He didn’t know if it referred to himself or Melissa it was complaining about, they’d both made visits to schools and universities to speak.

It wasn’t as though Melissa had the monopoly on yellow press. More than one suggested that he and the marine were conspiring to take over the world, that they were sleeping together, others that demanded to know what he was doing in the desert, and even one that said he and Twilight were trying to create some sort of monstrous hybrid creature...Thank god they haven’t figured about Fluttershy.

Disgusted, Andrew quickened his pace.

There were other positive things related to humanity being sold in shops. Andrew noted several establishments selling various goods inspired by Earth. A music store had “Classical Human Music” in sheet music and records displayed in the front window. From the open front door came a tinny rendition of Vivaldi’s Spring.

There were other shops selling a few human food recipes, not many though. There were a few selling gluten free bread, and unfortunately it was likely to become an obnoxious diet fad here like it had back home.

He stepped into a small bookstore, finding a much wider array of human books. Magazines only printed single chapters, whereas these were the whole book.

Scanning through a shelf, Andrew found The Hobbit, The Fellowship of the Ring, a novelization of the movie Aliens, and Eric Flint’s 1632. 1632 was only the first in the series, there were no others.

Andrew picked up the copy of Aliens, and stared at the cover. A recreation of a xenomorph skull was on the cover. There were several warning labels as well, for the more innocent pony folk. He had no idea how Melissa got this published, but that wasn’t what was in his mind.

He sighed heavily.

Pinkie Pie was looking at a copy of 1632 herself, and noted Andrew’s somber expression, “How come there aren’t any more of these?”

Andrew sighed again, and Pinkie realized she might have struck a small nerve.

“This is the only part of the series that exists on this world right now. You see this?” he held up the Aliens book, “This is the novelization of a sequel, only the first sequel. Mine and Melissa’s kindles, what little we could get from mine, only hold so much. The only pieces of the first Aliens movies and the other sequels are locked in here,” he tapped his temple, “And when we’re gone...it’ll be gone for good.”

Pinkie’s eyes widened, “Oh, but Andrew, you don’t know that!”

Andrew nodded slowly, “I know. I just wish…”

He looked at the cover of Aliens again. Stay calm, stay calm…

“I just want to see this movie again. God, I want to see a movie theater again. I miss stupid ads before movies, I miss new stuff…”

Pinkie Pie seemed stumped for a moment. Even her party-assembling skills had their limits on such short notice. She had to improvise a way to cheer him up. She grabbed the book from his hand, appeared at the cash register, then was back in front of him.

“I may not be able to send you back, but maybe you can get a smile from this. It’s on me.”

Andrew did manage a weak smile then, as he recovered his composure. “Thanks.”

“Isn’t it weird how the tiniest things always seem to set you two off? One time, Melissa started crying when she ate a pizza!”

Andrew exhaled, “Not touching that...Speaking of which, weren’t we looking for her?”

“What, did you forget?”

“Forget it…”

“Huh?”

Andrew sighed yet again, and walked out the door.

He narrowly avoided a group of foals running by, some of them singing off-key Pack up Your Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag.

Several blocks later, Pinkie Pie stopped along the blank side of a building, where a number of posters had been placed.

“Ooh, this looks like fun!” she gestured to one of the posters, and Andrew moved to get a look for himself.

He gaped at what he saw.

It was a ponified version of the Star Wars: A New Hope. All the characters were wearing the right outfits, they seemed well-cast, every little detail was spot on. Andrew looked over the poster, trying to puzzle it out.

In one corner, he noted the sponsor. It was the B.N.L. logo once again, but its full name was spelled out this time, and the company subtitle sat underneath.

Pinkie Pie had eyes only for the description of the subject of the poster, “It’s going to a musical, one of the biggest budget shows ever!”

“Big blockbuster huh? Well, if even half the people who saw it the first time turn out…”

“Blockbuster?” Pinkie asked.

“What you were just talking about, gonna make a lot of money and be a big spectacle,” Andrew answered distractedly, “Jesus, how did she do it? Did she memorize the script or something?”

The fact that there were human stage plays was no surprise. They’d done some of The TIme Machine, Shakespeare, and a few other plays the two humans could remember, but nothing on this scale!

The other plays had been required to provide a small enciclopedia with the programme for context, and those were fairly close to current pony technology and culture(at least historically). How would they explain space travel, directed energy weapons, tractor beams…?

Andrew shook his head, “Headache, jesus...Pinkie, just lead me to her please before something else shows up.”

It was...some hours later when they finally tracked down the missing marine. Andrew still didn’t have a watch or electronic device.

Night had fully fallen, and they arrived outside some sort of restaurant-coffee-shop affair. One of those restaurants that have a bar and live music, judging by the sign, “Stop in at our bar” and the music coming from within.

It was called “The First Hipster” for some reason. Maybe it was all the people in human fashion and carrying human books or magazines walking in and out.

Andrew paused at a sign placed on the sidewalk, staring.

“In response to complaints, the First Hipster would like to state that our meat does not contain sapient creatures.”

Pinkie looked at it, “Oh yeah, there used to be protesters camping out here every day. The police weren’t having a fun time dealing with them.”

“They sell meat?”

Pinkie raised an eyebrow at him, “Where have you been? Out in the desert? More ponies have been getting over the herbivore diet. My family never got into it in the first place, though I don’t really get how everypony else did it. I mean, they eat gravy, cheese--”

“Wait, doesn’t gravy come from--”

“Meat! I know! They get it from the pigs!”

“I wondered what they were for...isn’t that where you get your leather, too?”

“Yep!”

Andrew opened his mouth to reply, then the music from inside the restaurant caught his ear. “Is that...Rocket Man?”

Sure enough, from the open doors filtered one of Elton John's more famous songs.

He turned and walked into the open doorway.

The lights were down in the restaurant, but it was still bright enough to see. Around a central stage were arranged several dozen tables, perhaps a third of them full, and waiters passing among them. The bar was off to the right.

Based on posters and schedules he could see on the walls, Andrew guessed human stage shows were pretty common. He saw ads of everything from bands to Monty Python sketches. At each of the tables he noted a thick pamphlet. Picking one up, he found it seemed to be a small encyclopedia on human culture.

Rocket Man occupied the air, telling the story of a blue-collar astronaut, just doing his job and yearning for home.

Andrew noted a prevalence of ponies in khaki uniforms among some of the tables closer to the door. The new standard-issue Equestrian Army and Equestrian Air Force outfits, worn by soldiers out on the town for the night. There were only enough in blue navy outfits to count on one hand, given how far they were from a naval base.

The song chorus explained the astronaut's longing to get home, the next landing such a long way off.

Melissa was on the center stage, with a pianist and a pony with a drum set had positions to either side behind her. A custom-made guitar hung from the marine’s shoulder, and she was strumming it like a professional in the instrumental moment.

His eyes on the stage, he nearly ran into a tiny purple dragon only a little shorter than the ponies.

“Gah! Spike? What are you doing here?”

Spike glanced up at him, then at Pinkie.

“Hey, you two! What are you two doing here? How’d things go with Twilight’s family?”

“Don’t ask, it was weird. What are you doing here?”

“Jasper’s Pizza was burning down again, so we came here.” Spike said evenly, pointing with his thumb at a table where Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash were seated.

“Wait, what about fire?”

“It’s happened before. C’mon, we saved you guys a seat!”

The song chorus went on again, the astronaut expressing his worries that he's changed too much since he was last on Earth, that everything he has, everything he is, will be used up before he can return home.

The three approached and took seats.

Rarity was busy watching her friend on the stage, “She certainly is a fantastic singer, isn’t she?”

Applejack shrugged, “I reckon so. But is it just me, or does she sound like Twilight when she sings?”

The last lines were repeated several times. The astronaut was afraid he'll never make it home again, his next touchdown so long off it might never happen. There was a strange emotion in Melissa's voice as she sang, one no one could quite place.

Andrew leaned over, “Hey, did you notice anything weird going on with her? Did she talk to you two at all before she started singing?”

“She’s human, darling. Of course she has strange behavior!” Rarity said, smiling a little.

“She was singing when we got here,” Applejack replied, “I did notice she seemed to be singing a particular kind of song a lot...does that count?”

“What kind of songs?”

“A lot of sad and hopeful ones, real lonely types occasionally.”

Rarity added, “Several about overcoming adversity, as well. There was Do You Hear the People Sing, Odds Are, the Marines’ Hymn, There’ll be Bluebirds Over the White Cliffs of Dover…”

Rainbow Dash broke off from her argument with an Equestrian army grunt at another table and leaned over, “There was that weird...what was it…? That Japanese song she keeps singing...What is with that anyway?”

Applejack looked at Andrew, “Why do you want to know? Is there some kind of problem?”

Andrew grimaced, “Hasn’t anyone noticed how she’s been acting? All the things she told each of us, and then when we met Twilight’s brother’s fiance…”

Rainbow Dash grinned, “Hey, wait a minute, how did that go? Where’s your marefriends?”

Andrew gritted his teeth, and flushed, “Not talking about that, we’re talking about the marine!”

“Oh, I definitely want to hear this one…”

“Shut up! When the fiance showed up, Melissa got really pissed, and...she looked scared.”

The other ponies looked at each other.

“But…”

Rarity was interrupted by the sound of applause and hooves stomping the ground as Melissa’s song ended.

Melissa stood up, swaying a little, and drained a glass in her hand.

“Alright everybody--pony, whatever, I just got a few drinks in me, so I’m probably only good for one more song. Until then, I’m gonna keep singing. Anyone object?”

There was no negative response. A few called out encouragement, demanding more music.

Melissa settled down on a stool. “Toby Keith wrote this next one. Didn’t listen to his stuff much, but this one’s good. American Soldier.”

Putting her glass down by her side, she gave signals to the pianist and drummer. The piano played a few notes, and the marine strummed her guitar. Putting on a rather good impression of a southern accent, she began to sing.

The first few verses weren't clearly about a soldier, they were at first describing a father fulfilling his responsibilities. There were certain references to phrases associated with the military, but they were subtle.

Some of the patrons were tapping their hooves to the beat, nodding their heads or swaying in time with the song. The sound of the drummer’s instruments began to become audible, growing steadily in power as the piano faded out.

It had been recorded in the midst of the Iraq War. The next few verses could be interpreted as right wing rhetoric, and arguments could be made about association with the cult of the soldier, but they weren't necessarily that sort of thing. The lyrics were still powerful. It was one of those songs that could be used for positive or negative purposes.

She stopped singing to deliver a brief instrumental solo, then the chorus started up again. Proudly it declared the values of the United States Military, those all regardless of political stance could agree upon.

The vocals complete, the piano came back in briefly, to fade alongside the drums and the guitar. The song was brought to an end.

Andrew furrowed his brow, then looked at the others. “Does that song selection strike anyone else as odd?”

Rarity held up a hoof, “Andrew, darling, it’s perfectly alright if she is sad or upset over something. We shall just ask!”

Melissa stood up as applause and stomping of hooves rang through the building, “Okay, every-person-place-or-thing, I had better get outta here before I pass out. Be sure to tip--no, donate! Every little bit counts! Tipping sucks, write your congress creature, or parliament, or whoever to make it illegal!”

She stepped offstage to applause, stumbling somewhat, making her way over to the group.

Melissa grabbed a chair from one of the other tables, and blinked blearily.

“Oh, hey Andrew. How ya doin’, pardner?”

“Melissa, how much have you drunk?”

“.04 percent. Standard drink.”

“What?”

She rubbed her face, “Remember health class, ya idjit.”

“I do. And I remember all the stuff about intoxication and liver damage...”

“Oh please! I’ve got Russia on one side of the family, and Wales on the other! The Welsh are freakin’ highlanders! Richard Burton had every liver disease known to man, but died of a brain...thing at 59...or some age like that. Dash drinks irish coffees for breakfast, why don’t you yell at her?”

Dash commented, “He did. Threw one out the window this morning!”

“Ah, showing some independence, eh, Andy? What are you doing here anyway?”

“I was following you after you ran away.” Andrew replied.

“I didn’t run away,” Melissa snarled, “I went to go get drunk.”

“Why?”

Melissa gritted her teeth, “Because.”

“Look, Melissa, I’m kinda worried about you! You just had something really traumatizing happen to you just a few months ago! I think I have reason to be concerned when you do something like that!”

“I just saw someone I hated and didn’t want to talk to her, what’s the big deal?”

Andrew shook his head, “That wasn’t it. I think you were afraid of her! You’ve been acting weird since we came in on the train. What is up?”

Melissa leaned her elbows on the table, and rubbed her face, “It’s classified.”

“What?”

“I can’t tell you, alright?!”

“Can’t tell him what?” Twilight asked. She and Fluttershy approached the table, both looking somewhat down. Twilight had an odd expression on her face as well. “Where did you two go?”

“She ran off!” Andrew pointed.

“I didn’t run off, I walked away from a conversation I didn’t want to participate in!”

“That’s the same thing!”

“No, it isn’t!”

“Yes it is!”

Twilight facehoofed, “Both of you, quiet! Melissa, why did you...leave the conversation?”

Melissa crossed her arms, “I can’t tell you that!”

“Why not?” Andrew and Twilight demanded.

“Because I can’t! Now would you lay off? I’ve got a headache, I’m drunk...oh, do you guys have a place to stay?”

She held up a hand before anyone could answer, “Never mind. It’ll be cheaper if you stay at my place. I’ve got room!”

Andrew’s curiosity was piqued, “You do?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve got plenty.”

“She’s right,” Rainbow Dash backed her up, “I’ve stayed over a few times.”

The others made noises of agreement. Twilight grimaced, “Normally I stay at the castle…”

“No!” Melissa snapped, then spoke a little lower, “No...you’re guests, and...if you six aren’t all together, something bad may happen.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Andrew demanded.

“I. Can’t. Tell. You.”

“Why not? You said later earlier, so it’s later!”

“It’s about the shield! I can’t talk about it! Seriously, Celestia’s orders!”

Andrew barked, “Since when do you listen to her?”

“When I actually agree with her orders. Now, stop asking questions!”

“Alright, alright, jeez!”

Melissa got up, “C’mon, I can get delivery at my place. I imagine you guys are tired, too. You got all that wedding prep tomorrow.”

She spat the last couple words, and stood up. “Someone gonna pay for the drinks?”

The three ponies and one dragon paid their debts, and Melissa grimaced.

“I miss payment cards, by Cthulhu…”

They left the building and headed out into the night. Instead of walking all the way through the city to Melissa’s place, they decided to take a streetcar.

With a small light on the front, and the clunking of thick heavy cables, a cable-hauled tram crawled up the street.

The city had been using cable-cars for years, it was only in the past decade or so that they converted to using electric lights.

The benches were small and uncomfortable, forcing the humans to hang off the sides. Andrew was having to hold Melissa by the arm in case she fell, and was forced to endure more drunk singing.

“...Then raise the harp of Erin, boys, the flag we all revere-- We'll fight and fall beneath its folds, like Irish volunteers! Then raise the harp of Erin, boys, the flag we all revere-- We'll fight and fall beneath its folds, like Irish volunteers!”

“Oh, shaddap!” one of the other passengers shouted, an exhausted-looking unicorn wearing a suit.

“You stuff it! I’m drunk, I’m happy, and I’ve never been on a streetcar before I got here! Let me have some fun!”

“You’ve never been on a streetcar?” Twilight asked.

“Well, started takin’ it when I got here. They don’t have them back home.”

“What?” Applejack asked, “But I thought...well, you’re so advanced...”

Andrew spoke up, “Well, we have subways--underground trains-- but in the US we don’t use streetcars--”

Melissa cut Andrew off, “General Motors and all the other automotive companies bought up the tram lines in the cities, then tore them up so they could make room for the cars.”

Rarity grimaced, “They rathered to boost profits instead of providing actual services, making everypony buy their automobiles and use their roads instead.”

Applejack and Twilight seemed to be having trouble wrapping their heads around the issue. “But...why? Were trams more expensive? Wouldn’t they be cheaper?”

Melissa leaned closer, swaying with the motion of the tram, “That’s exactly what they say in Who Framed Roger Rabbit?. Boeing and General Motors wanted us to invest in planes and cars and highways and stuff because they wanted monies. Word of advice? Don’t invest completely in highways and planes, that shit’s terrible for the environment. I mean, invest in them, but don’t forget to invest in trains, lots of trains, and make them a public service so no jackasses with dollar signs in their eyes buy them all up. But don’t no invest completely in those other things either. You need all of them, cars have utility, planes have speed,and trains have bulk. Don’t let them take your trains, though! You need your trains! If they’re entirely a private service, some dickhead company whose name rhyme with funeral donors will buy ‘em up, pull ‘em up, and replace them with highways, and fuck up city roads forever at the same time. Then when the environment’s shot to hell, other huge dicks won’t let you refurbish the lines, despite the convenience and money it would bring everyone!”

“What--”

Melissa held up a fist, shaking somewhat, “Dey took er trains, mehn! Dey took er fecking trains! And then when we try to get them back, it takes a fucking decade to even get the plans, then Wall Street crashes, we’re fucked again, and...and...I just wanted a ride to my hometown, fucking A, is that too much to ask?!”

“Melissa...” Fluttershy tried to speak up, “What about--”

“Trains are cool, better for the environment...we used to have one of the best train networks in the world, but because of shit-eating companies like General Motors fuck us over, the thing that helped us win in World War II is gone! It got us to ship tons of equipment all over the place, my grandfather used to talk about the hundred-car trains that would just go on for minutes at a time, and…”

Rarity patted Melissa on the shoulder, “Melissa, darling...take a deep breath. You’ve had too much to drink.”

“General Motors can go to hell.”

“Yes, of course, just...just calm down.”

The tram eventually reached Meadowbrook Lane.

It was a recently-developed area, plenty of land available with several mansions along either side of the lane. Several were still being built in typical pony fashion, with some architectural updates from Melissa’s engineering background; better able to withstand earthquakes and simple entropy of time. The street itself wasn’t dirt or cobblestone, but asphalt.
The group didn’t care about those of course, they only had eyes the strangest design of building they were moving toward.

It was built directly into a hill rather than on top of it, with a low silhouette. A small driveway led up to the side of the house into a garage, within which a Tesla Model X could be seen. A small stairway went up from the driveway to a landing, where the entrance, a little round green door, was visible. On the side of the landing, a flagpole stood, the Stars and Stripes flapping in the breeze from its tip. Andrew’s heart lurched at the sight of it, seeing it so far from home...It helped to only make the situation stranger.

“This is your house?” Andrew asked, his jaw slacked as he stared. “Really?”

“You got a problem with it?” Melissa strode up to him, glaring upwards at his eyes a few dozen centimeters above her.

He wisely stepped away before answering, “Well, no...but...but...Bag-End? Bag-End?”

Sure enough, Melissa’s house was not a conventional house. It was a hole in the ground. A Hobbit hole. Bag-End, normally owned by a Baggins in Middle-Earth, but a Foster would do in Equestria.

“I had money to burn, but I didn't want a mansion in the traditional sense. And this is a lot easier for electricity maintenance. And I wanted a piece of home. You got a problem with it?” Melissa repeated.

“Really, Andrew, it is quite rude to criticize your host’s home!” Rarity admonished, backing up the marine, “I honestly don’t see the problem. It’s quite nice inside--”

“You knew about this?” Andrew demanded, “How?”

“She actually pays visits.”

“Well, I’m sorry for being a bit busy!”

“With what? Being Twilight’s personal tongue-bather?”

Fluttershy, Twilight, and Andrew all flushed at that, the rest of the Mane Six stared, and Spike scratched his head, “I don’t get it.”

“Shots fired…” Rainbow hummed.

“Where’d you learn that?” Melissa demanded.

“What are you, a Hobbit?” the archeologist demanded, trying to turn the conversation around.

Melissa nodded enthusiastically, “Why yes, yes I am. Technically. My grandmother was Welsh, and Tolkien lived roughly in the area between Wales and England. Heck, my great-grandfather probably met him. Also, my family tends to be short, and have a lot of traits similar to Hobbits.”

“Except for the extreme violent tendencies.”

“Nah. That’s just good ol’ human and/or American stock. Then again, Hobbits are known to be pretty lethal on their own with no combat skills.”

“Point there,” Andrew consented, “Better run if you see them pick up a rock, those things’ll take your head off.”

With six confused ponies, one dragon, and another human in tow, Melissa walked up the small driveway.

As they reached the cobblestone path upwards, Andrew stopped to read a sign posted in the dirt. “Do not disturb. Remains will not be returned to next of kin.”

“Geez, what happened to ‘beware of dog’?” he muttered to himself.

Melissa noted his curiosity, “I tried to put up a sign that said, ‘Beware of landmines’, but the cops had a chat with me and said it was...” she put up her hands in air quotes and spoke sarcastically, “... ‘threatening bodily harm’ or something like that.”

At Andrew’s horrified expression, she patted him on the shoulder, “I’m kidding! Mostly. The cops did have a chat with me, and I get their concern. I was originally thinking it would be just like ‘beware of dog’, but where it’s not a given that a dog will rip someone's throat out, it’s guaranteed a landmine will blow you up. It’s illegal to set up hazards that could do injury or kill someone as a defense of property. They knew I wasn't actually placing them, but the threat of them was enough to cause problems. I thought it was funny, but I’m a sick sonofabitch and a marine. My dark sense of humor has gotten me into trouble before.”

“I hate to imagine what kind of kid you were like in school with jokes like that. What, were you in detention every day or something?”

Melissa didn’t answer, she simply smirked with no humor or amusement.

There was another sign posted on the bright green round door, “Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.”

Melissa opened the door with a key, and entered.

While the rest of the group stepped inside tentatively, gazing around in wonder, Melissa and Rarity strode in confidently.
Melissa sat down to take off her boots, and Rarity hung up her hat on a hook nearby.

“Well? Come on in!” Melissa said, seeing the rest of the group’s hesitation, “This is a mansion. I got plenty of room.”

Andrew looked about in astonishment at the amount of detail in the structure. While many of the items weren’t the same, the basic design was identical in many ways to the Bag-End seen in Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings, with some elements thrown in from the book.
The walls, floor, and ceiling were coated in quality wood, there were chandeliers and conventional lights providing electric illumination.

The parlor to the left of the entryway was closed off, and Rarity led the others to places where they could hang up their clothes and store their luggage.
No sooner had the group noticed that Melissa had slipped away than did a sound system activate; somewhat distorted at first, then became clearer.
Through the house came a jaunty drum beat, then the twanging of guitars. Come and Get Your Love by Redbone began to play.
They saw the marine bobbing her head in time with the music, as she emerged from the parlor, making sure it was sealed shut, then walked toward the kitchen.
“This the Guardians of the Galaxy soundtrack?” Andrew inquired.

“You know it! Have you seen the second one?”

“They made a sequel?”

“Duh! It’s the MCU! They’ll be cranking out sequels until we’re a hundred years old!”

Later on in the night when he had the chance, Andrew took Melissa aside. ‘Hey, can we talk?”

Melissa shrugged. Her cheery demeanor had faded a little, likely her body processing the alcohol, “Sure, dude. Parlor.”

Melissa opened the door, let her friend in, then shut the door behind her, and turned to watch Andrew as he stared at the parlor.

It seemed to have been sealed for a reason. Every available surface was covered in technical specifications, drawings, blocks of text, page after page after page.

The USS Wisconsin. Aircraft carriers. Cruise liners. Steamers. Many of the images were arranged by time scales. Aircraft, from the first hot air balloon in 1783(based off info from the John Adams historical drama), to the first zeppelins, to the Wright Brothers, to the Red Baron, dozens of models of planes whose times came and went in the 30s, even more planes, all the way up to the F-35 jet.
Tanks, Greek soldiers, and M1 Garand rifles turned to drawings of nuclear reactors, solar panels of a dozen different varieties, power lines, circuit diagrams, rockets, satellites, computers...she was trying to copy down everything she could remember.

Andrew didn’t have time to take it all in. He had to let her know. He stepped forward and placed his bag on the table.

“I couldn’t tell you anything about this over the telegram. I...damn it, just look!”

He dumped out the battered backpack, releasing a pile of drawings, notebooks, and various odds and ends.
A paperclip held together a set of papers on top, and he seized it, sitting down and unclipping it.
Briefly, he noted the chair actually fit his backside. It seemed Melissa had gotten chairs designed specifically for humans.

Melissa leaned over the table, looking at the images. They were of dig sites, of tables laden with artifacts, of skeletal remains.

“We knew humans were here, but this is the first time we’ve found bodies. It took me forever just to find anything, actually. Most of what I found was in the middle of the desert, or in the mountains. Places that are really hard to reach.”

“What exactly did you find?”

“A bunch of stuff. Bones. Ruined tools. Foundations. But that’s not the point. The point is how little we found, and where we found it. Why are human remains only in the hardest areas to reach? Both of us appeared right next to Ponyville!”

Melissa glanced at him, concerned, “Something tells me you have a theory.”

“It’s yours, actually. Remember when you were in jail, and you were rambling a lot--”

Melissa held up a hand, looked at Silverbolt, then turned back, “I don’t. He does. My memories are all muddled from then. Which theory?”

“The one about the ponies hiding things from us. Remember? You were insulting Celestia a lot--”

She held up a hand again. Silverbolt was likely explaining what happened, and she slowly rubbed her temples, “Right...it’s coming back. Humans have clearly been here, we’ve got the bunker supporting that, and the legends. I was wondering why there wasn’t much more physical evidence…”

Andrew grimaced, “I think you were right. I checked all the most likely places, but I could only find stuff in areas no one had been in years. In some of the places, things just didn’t feel right. People were real quiet, wouldn’t even give me the time of day. When I could get a lead, they were weird. Dead-ends, or it looked like something had been there, but had been removed. Even found a few that looked like they had been buried. For example, I was checking a few bodies of water, where some of the legends were based, and there were piles of sand in places they really shouldn’t be. Checked with a geologist, and he agreed.”

“What’s the relevance of sand?” Melissa asked doubtfully.

“There was a report I read from a few decades ago back home. Someone found the wreck of a Roman trading vessel in a bay near Rio De Janeiro. There were a bunch of claims by the Brazilian government to deny it, insisting that the Portuguese were the first to discover Brazil. Then when the diver went looking for it again, silt had been poured on the site, and statements by the Brazilians were really suspicious. ‘Nothing happened, but if it did, we fully approved of it’.”

“I think I heard about that...has anyone else investigated these spots before?” asked Melissa.

He shook his head, “Not that I’m aware. Again, no one was real chatty. And ponies aren’t normally like that!”

“Yeah, you can’t go anywhere without having a ten-minute conversation!” Melissa agreed, “What is going on here?”

“This whole lack of humans thing has been rubbing me the wrong way since I got here. I think you were right. The ponies might be staging a cover-up. You can see why I didn’t take this to Twilight.”

Melissa rubbed her face, “I knew it. Damn it, I knew it! Oh! I think they might even have some human gear lying around, too!”

Andrew squinted, “What?”

“They talk about all the concepts they haven’t heard of, but they’re catching on way too fast. And they have submarines!”

“Well, i knew that. I used one to check out those underwater spots.” Andrew pointed out.

“How cramped was it? Subs are always cramped, right?”

“It was pretty cramped…”

“Early submarines were cramped even for people like me, and you’re a head taller! Shouldn’t it have been impossible to fit?”
Without waiting for an answer, she took a piece of paper and drew a submarine. It was a long cylinder shaped like a pencil, with a sharp point, a screw propeller aft, and a hatch and cupola on the top. “Okay, what is that?”
“That’s one of the subs...Melissa, what are you getting at?”

“That’s not a pony sub. That’s the USS Alligator.”

Andrew thought for a moment, “The what?”

“FIrst US Navy submarine, wasn’t commissioned, but it was launched in 1863.”

The archeologist snorted, “An American Civil War submarine? Really?”

“It’s not impossible. I thought you were an archaeologist! There was the Turtle in the Revolutionary War, and the H.L. Hunley for the Confederates.”
“The Confederates?”

“Yeah. That damn thing sank three times and out of the three crews, maybe twenty guys in total, only two survived the first sinking. Second time it killed the designers, and the third time she went down for good. It may have been a work of art, but it was also a piece of crap. They found it in the 90s, put it in a museum. The Alligator was the Union sub, much more well-designed in my opinion. The weapon wasn’t a bomb strapped to the front of it, they used divers to deliver mines. She never saw combat, but was also lost. Being towed around North or South Carolina, they hit a storm, and she threatened to sink the steamer, so they cut her loose.”

“What does this have to do with the ponies?” Andrew asked, trying to cut to the chase.

“We never found Alligator. She was still somewhat afloat, and probably drifted a while. She’s supposed to be off the East Coast..somewhere. No one’s ever found it. I guess we know where it went, now. Probably washed ashore somewhere around here and they picked her up to reverse engineer. All the dimensions matched what I read online, and--”

Silverbolt appeared, tapping her on the shoulder, “Melissa, listen to yourself! Don’t jump to conclusions. You’ve been working with the Equestrian Military for a while now. You gained their trust! Why would they hide this from you?”

“The US government covers up things all the time.”

“Look at the evidence! A handful of artifacts that happened to be in the wrong place? Sand? Quiet ponies? A submarine that looks vaguely like one back home? You must consider how different people in different countries can be. The artifacts in the more obvious places could have been taken by scavengers, the sand might be some sort of industrial accident, or an earthmoving project, or any reason! The Atlantic is a big ocean, and consider how long it took to find the Hunley. Records from the period could have been wrong as well, and you found those dimensions on Wikipedia!” his eyes were imploring, “Melissa...they’re your friends. Don’t judge them too harshly without giving them a chance to defend themselves! Give them the benefit of the doubt!”
“Silverbolt, they might have stolen the Alligator! US Military property!”

“They had no one to return it to, Melissa. Talk to them if you think it’s true, it may have simply not occurred to them. They may have thought it belonged to another country, not humans!”

Andrew waved to get her attention back, “Talking to him again?”

“Yeah...he says not to come to any conclusions without hearing the ponies’ side of things.” Melissa mumbled, “The sand thing, did you hear any suspicious statements by any officials?”

“No…”

“And if the ponies weren’t too chatty, that doesn’t really say much. Even inside a country people can be wildly different. There’s a Rooster Teeth video about one of their guys moving from New Jersey to Austin, and being really confused that everyone was so chatty.”

Andrew slumped in his chair, “I...I don’t know what to say now.” He looked dejected at the contents of his bag, “You’re saying this is all...worthless?”

Melissa held up her hands, “I didn’t say that. You might be onto something here, but we’ve gotta keep an open mind. Who knows what it could be? We should take this to someone in the morning.”

She put on a thoughtful expression, “Just to be certain...we take this to Queen Luna. Twilight probably wouldn’t know, since she’s so close to us. They wouldn't tell her anything if there is a conspiracy. Luna seems like she’s been out of the loop, and might not be party to any possible cover-up, but also has power. If we talk to anyone lower, we risk everything.”

Andrew nodded, and there was an awkward pause between them.

“I can’t believe you were the one giving me the pep talk.” he grinned.

“Well, who says I have to be the crazy one around here all the time? The common sense switch can sometimes lean in my direction. Just leave the paranoid ravings to me, buddy.”

Andrew sat up, “Speaking of crazy, here’s something weird I found.”

He pulled out a picture of a firearm. Corroded, covered in dust, it was too wrecked to identify its specific model, but it was clearly a submachine gun of the 20th century. It could have been a Thompson, a PPSh-41, or an MP40, it was that badly corroded.

“Okay, so you found an SMG.”

“How old would you say this design should be?”

Melissa squinted at the image, “At a guess? Maybe eighty years.”

Andrew handed her a sheet of notes, detailing how it was dated, “It’s over a thousand years old.”

He took out another picture, showing the remains of an outfit of some kind. Only zippers, a handful of fibers, assorted bits and pieces, and a steel helmet remained. “So was the owner.”

“That’s impossible.” Melissa said.

“Really? It gets weirder.”

Images of Roman equipment, just the armor this time. “This stuff belonged to the Republic of Rome, should be two-thousand years old, at least.”
Another sheet of notes, “It’s only a thousand years old.”

Melissa tilted her head, “Now that is crazy. Are you sure you did the dating thing right?”

Andrew shrugged, “19th century archeology wasn’t the best, and it’s the same here...” He took out an image of a matchlock firearm, “But I’ve still got a much better education. Look, this is right, this thing is only four-hundred years old.”

Melissa nodded in agreement, “Okay, now that makes sense. 17th century. Must’ve been an error in the others.”

She patted him on the shoulder, “You might be out of practice, man, and even with more advanced concepts you’re still limited by the tech around here.”

“But...this should be right. I don’t know how a 20th century gun could be older than a 17th century gun!” this was clearly something that had been bothering the archeologist for a long time, “This is impossible!”

“Andrew, how much sleep have you been getting? What have you been eating?”

He looked at his boots, “You sound like Twilight.”

Melissa sighed, “I wish. Lately I’ve been seen as ‘doubtful’.”

“You? Really?”

Melissa didn’t comment, she walked out of the parlor, “C’mon, let’s get some food. I got human recipes.”

Melissa cracked the parlor door open again, and went for the kitchen. As Andrew emerged, Twilight approached him, looking rather uneasy.

He leaned against a wall, crossing his arms, “Twi’, is something bothering you? You’ve been acting funny ever since you met Cadence.”

Twilight nodded reluctantly, “It’s silly...just...she forgot a secret hoofshake we’d done since I was a foal.”

“Well, it’s been a long time, maybe she forgot.”

“And she was acting unusually in generall” Twilight added. “I mean... You noticed it too, didn’t you? Melissa did too, but she’s not talking about that.”

Andrew conceded, “If you mean Shining Armor acting kind of like a zombie, and Cadence being a bit...”

Twilight nodded vigorously, “That’s right. She’s just been strange ever since we got here, and it’s bothering me.”

Andrew nodded, “I understand... But I don’t know what we can do about it. I don’t know Twilight, we haven’t gotten good sleep in two days. Why don’t we rest on it?”

Twilight sighed morosely, “I suppose…”

They returned to the dining room, where Melissa was talking about some old 80s show, Captain Power or something like that, comparing Rainbow Dash to one character.

The group ate a small snack, chatting about recent experiences, how businesses were going, and about the news. The same conversations all sentients carried out regardless of day and age.

As the night wore on, one by one the ponies drifted off to bed. Finally, Twilight, Andrew, and Melissa were the only ones left.

Andrew scratched his chin, considering what he was about to say. “Hey, Melissa? Weird question…”

“Shoot.”

He leaned forward on the table, “I get that you’re a combat engineer and all that, but...how do you remember all this stuff? How have you gotten so many things made? It’s not just guns and books you’ve made, you’ve been making toys, clothes, board games...even adapting movies that I know you don’t have. How the heck are you doing all this? I was completely stumped when I got here, I couldn’t think of any way to improve things!”

Twilight raised her eyebrows, “That’s an interesting question. Melissa, how are you doing all this? You are out of your element technology-wise, and without the proper industrial base you’re accustomed to...well, some of what you’re doing shouldn’t be possible. I’ve read theoretical studies of time travel that have talked about this problem.”

Melissa leaned back in her chair. “Okay...did either of you read Mark Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court?”

Twilight nodded while Andrew shrugged, “Maybe?”

“In the story, the titular yankee is sent back in time to England in the 12th century I think--”

“The sixth, actually.” Twilight corrected.

“Oh...well I haven’t read it in a while. Anyway, the guy, Hank, is something of an engineer from the late 19th century. So he tries to industrialize everything, somehow remembering absolutely everything from rifling, to cartridges, to gunpowder, to explosives. He remembers things to a level that should be impossible, especially as he arrived with nothing but the clothes on his back.”

“Well, okay, your stuff helps with that I suppose,” Andrew conceded, “But shouldn’t it still be impossible for you to remember this many things, even with all your gear?”

Melissa tilted her head a little, “One might think that. In fact, The Man Who Came Early was apparently made as a response to Twain’s story, as well as Lest Darkness Fall, but I’ll get to that one in a second. A modern GI goes and hangs around with some vikings, and despite his advanced knowledge, doesn’t have the knowledge required to make the tools to make the tools to make the tools. He knows how to make a modern bridge, but can’t do that with the junk the vikings have lying around.”

“Perfectly reasonable,” Twilight commented, “I may know how a steam engine works, but if I didn’t have my library or somepony with the expertise, I wouldn’t know how to get all the minerals needed. Much less how to smelt or refine them.”

Andrew looked even more confused, “So...if that’s true, then why have you been able to do all this stuff? Why have you been yelling at me for not doing anything? If that guy couldn’t do anything, what luck would I have?”

Melissa replied, “I don’t exactly consider either story to be correct. A Connecticut Yankee is too far on the hopeful side of the spectrum, while The Man Who Came Early is too far on the opposite side. See, this is something everyone gets wrong because they underestimate their own knowledge base. Even if you can’t make a fighter jet, you’ve still got a hundred years difference on the locals! Bards and storytellers made a decent living, you could recite Shakespeare or The Song of Roland! You could advance math simply by teaching locals about arabic numbers! Washing your hands, you could save thousands of lives! This is why I say Lest DarknessFall is the correct example. It’s about a guy going back in time to Ancient Rome. He’s a bit like you, Andrew. He’s an archaeologist, not an engineer. He can’t reproduce clocks, gunpowder, or cannons, but he gets some other things going, and starts mucking about with politics.”

“That still doesn’t explain all of the stuff you’ve been bringing out. How can you just happen to have it all?” Twilight asked.

“Well, for one, I’ve got an advantage over those other guys. I’m in a place that is having its industrial revolution, while those guys were dealing with the freakin’ medieval era. A lot of basic knowledge from high school was mind blowing back then. Second…” she looked off to the side, “I’m not exactly building all of this on my own.”

“Huh?” Andrew grunted, “But...what?”

“Look, do remember our conversation in Manehattan? You said something about giving a leg up to the locals rather than jumping up?” Melissa asked.

Andrew nodded.

“That’s kind of what I’ve been doing. With a bunch of this technology, I haven’t been coming up with it by myself. At least, I didn’t completely create it. I’ve just been spurring on the engineers. I’ve explained smokeless powder for guns, I know how brodie helmets are made, and I can recognize the machinery, but this is something else those time travel stories screw up. I can’t do this on my own without help.”

Andrew tilted his head at her, “...What?”

“I’m a combat engineer. I’m the jack-of-all-trades of the military. My job is in driving big vehicles, demolitions, repairs, mobility, countermobility, breaching, construction, utility, and shooting the bad guys. I’ve got a college education in engineering, and a lot of the tools haven’t changed since the Industrial Revolution, but I don’t know everything. I know how a plane works, but I can’t make an internal combustion engine, much less one small enough to carry its own weight, a plane’s weight, and the pilot’s! I haven’t been coming in here and injecting new ideas exactly, I’ve just been explaining what I need to the engineers. They’re the ones who’ve been figuring stuff out. They look at the problem, and they try to solve it. This works sometimes. They figured out proper rifling, they figured out how to make cartridges, and they figured out how to make the brodie helmets. Other times, things explode. I tried to make a liquid-propellant rocket and nearly blew myself up. We’ve been trying to make automatic weapons, but it hasn’t been working. I’ve been trying to update their airships, that didn’t go well.“

Twilight nodded, “You’ve been using the correct method of giving us new technologies then.”

“I suppose. Your engineers are a lot better at this than I thought. I mean...man! I forgot how much stuff you guys already knew! I should’ve paid more attention when I played Civ 5, technological growth is not a straight line. You’ve figured out x-rays before you figured out smokeless powder for cryin’ out loud!”

“From what I’ve gathered, a lot of your famous 20th century inventions were conceived around the level of technology we are at right now. At any point during your Victorian Era you could’ve gone a completely different way…”

Andrew was still staring at Melissa, “You’re saying...that...most of what you’ve invented, you didn’t actually invent?”

She made a so-so gesture, “Kinda. BNL patented the stuff. Most of the purely-Terran stuff is pop culture, the telegraph, paint rollers, and a few other things. For the most part though, I worked with pony engineers to get things to work. This is why I formed my company, Andrew. I don’t know everything.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, then blew air out his cheeks, “I...wow.”

“What? I’m sorry if I’ve been making more money than you, man, but--”

“It’s not that--well, not exactly-- it’s...I guess you’re not that much better than me after all. Now I feel stupid for being jealous.”

“Not your fault, Andrew. It’s the freaking universe. The wormhole dumped us out here. All we can do is adapt and use what skills we have to survive. Anyway, my skills have kind of peaked. Once we get into World War I technology, it’s going to be much more conventional tech development. I’ll be able to give some hints, but nowhere near the stuff from before. I’m not a naval engineer, or aeronautical. I don’t know how to build vacuum tubes or nuclear reactors.”

“That’s kind of comforting, I guess,” Andrew said, “We’re on a more level playing field.”

“It’s not a competition! And anyway, I would’ve won if it was.”

“You got more technology, but who got friendly with the locals? I’d say that counts for more.”

Twilight looked between them, a smile creeping onto her face, “So...you two aren’t mad at each other anymore?”

Melissa glanced at her, offering a weak smile in return, “I’m sure we’ll find something else to argue about, but this hatchet is buried.”

They continued talking about various subjects for some time, Curiously, Andrew and Twilight soon found out that Melissa was trying to avoid going to bed. Once Twilight figured this out, she decided she’d been polite enough, and headed to bed as well.

Andrew didn’t follow. He was going to stay awake until Melissa fell asleep. And would try his luck again at figuring out what was with her.

“Melissa, what has been going on with you? Seriously, I haven’t seen you get this hammered before. Isn’t there something you can tell me about this super secret operation about yours? There’s no ponies around…”

Melissa shook her head, “Nope. I can’t tell anyone.”

“Anything? Nothing at all? Clearly this is bothering you. You’re drunk, you were singing really sad songs, and you’ve been snapping at people again. Just...talk to me. I might be able to help.”

Melissa refused to meet his eyes, “I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

“What do you mean?”

She rested her elbow on the table, with her chin on her hand, “God damn, it’s been hard. I still wake up screaming or crying or both. I keep thinking about the people Discord killed, or about home. I keep thinking about my mistakes, what I could do wrong with this mission. I don’t know if I can trust my instincts. I don’t know how long Discord was controlling me.”

Her rambling continued, “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. I’m scared. Cthulhu’s balls, I’m scared of fucking up. All my life I used to think I could fix any problem, confront anything, but now...I don’t know. I’m faking it. I’m barely holding together. The storm’s coming and I’m scared. I’m scared, I’m doubting, and I’m alone.”

“You know you’re not, right?” Andrew asked, hesitatingly putting out a hand to touch her forearm before drawing it back, “I mean, I’m here, and you’ve got the rest…”

“I understand, but...I don’t think you do. There’s people here, yeah, but no one on my same level. I can’t talk about these things with you guys, and I don’t even know if you’d get it. You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Of course I would. I’d probably believe it more than the rest would at least.”

“No, trust me. You wouldn’t and I can’t tell you anyway. I’m sorry.”

She sighed heavily, “It’s been a rough ride, huh? For both of us.”

He nodded, “Yep.”

“Do you...do you still dream about Earth too?”

Andrew rubbed an eye, and looked off into the distance. “Yeah, I do. Anything in particular you thinking about?”

“I guess my parents. And my brother.”

“Me too. My brother might be the weirdest person I’ve ever met, but he’s alright.”

Melissa snorted, “My little brother’s kinda the same. God I miss him."

Her upper body wavered a little, “I’m just gonna...gonna…”

She slumped forward onto the table and began snoring loudly.

Hefting her, Andrew found himself unable to drag her.

“Need some help?” Spike asked, appearing beside Andrew. Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Melissa’s legs, and together they brought her to the master bedroom.

They managed to pull off her jacket and get her onto the bed, her head on her battered NASA pillow. As Andrew was pulling back the blankets, a small lump drew his attention.

It was a little plush toy, with a tag indicating its Terran manufacturing. It took Andrew a minute to realize it was a plush of Godzilla.

Spike noticed it, “What is that?”

Andrew quickly put it behind his back, “Ehrm...nothing?”

Spike furrowed his brow, amused.

Andrew rolled his eyes and showed it.

“What’s the big deal about that?” the dragon asked, confused, “It’s just a stuffed animal.”

“It--well...I mean...back home, it’s always seen as a little weird when adults have plush toys.”

Spike snorted, “I guess we got ya beat in a few areas.”

“Well, everyone does it, it’s just frowned upon. I don’t care how she gets to sleep, personally I hit myself over the head with a hammer.”

He reached down to lift her arm and put the plush into the crook of her arm. Melissa’s other hand shot up, grabbing his wrist.
“I gotta...gotta…”

Andrew was hissing in pain, trying to push the half-asleep marine back down and get the blood flowing to his hand again.
Spike rolled his eyes, and walked over.

He pried her fingers loose, then simply sat on Melissa’s chest, using his weight to force her down.
“So that’s how you get Twilight to sleep.” Andrew mumbled, looking on at the odd scene, “You’re like a freaking cat.”

Spike made an indignant expression, “Hey, doesn’t matter how I do it so long as the geniuses get their sleep like the rest of us right?”

Andrew shrugged, “I guess so.”

Melissa’s hand shot up again, this time only to tap Spike on the shoulder.

“Dude, feed Ray, will you?”

“Huh?”

She pointed to a corner of the bedroom, where a small lighted glass box could be seen. It was a pet enclosure, filled with sand, dried grass, and a little water spigot nearby.
Andrew stepped over and peeked inside, but couldn’t see anything.

When Spike added a bit of food, a small leopard gecko decloaked from his hiding spot, scurrying to gather the sustenance.

Andrew glanced at Melissa, “Does he talk?”

Her eyes closed, the marine muttered, “Nah, one reason I got him.”

“His name a reference to something?

“Other than being a reference to him being a ray of sunshine in my life? Nope.”

She could feel Andrew’s doubtful expression.

“...Maybe Ghostbusters?” She admitted reluctantly, trailing off to sleep.

Andrew and Spike left the marine to sleep, as she curled up with her plushie.

She would be forced from slumber again, shaking and sweating. The others would find her passed out in an armchair that morning under a blanket, clutching her Godzilla plush with one arm and Glamdring with the other.