A thick folder slid in the center of the table around which several Officers from both Amandine and the Rhine were gathered, as well as Sidereal and Radiant. Raimund and Dilip were sitting at both ends of the table, the Indian Diamond Dog with his arms crossed and a frown on his features.

“So how far along was your research on what went on?” Sidereal asked.

“We have several observations of the wave effect that preceded the Event. Time of passage, the direction it came from, and we also plotted a couple points of origin on our charts.” Raimund told her, the young unicorn opening the folder to a page showing a map of Europe.

“There is also the matter of what was heard on the radio waves before the Event however…” Dilip trailed off.

“I’m afraid my progress on the conversion algorithm for the radio log is at a dead end.” Aleksei interjected with a sour look on her beak. “Despite my best attempts, my coding skills are not up to par.” The Latvian hippogriff conceded with a shake of her head.

“Can it be solved?” Dilip asked her.

“I may have an idea. Before the Event, I used to refer to several online repositories to write my code. I should be able to finish my task if we could salvage one such repository from a tech company’s database.”

“I’m afraid I don’t quite follow…” Sidereal said.

“Think of it like enchantment spells or talismans, only to make their machines work.” Radiant butted in. “At least that’s how I understand it once they told me.” The grey Pegasus shrugged with his wings. Angelo had mostly glossed over the subject, the Second Engineer being more familiar with hardware than software.

“Then that’s settled. One expedition to a tech company scheduled.” Dilip clapped the flat of his cream-furred paw against the table like a gavel. “Back to the subject, our observations established that the wave –or rather, waves- of the Event had some origin points.”

Sidereal took a look at a map which highlighted points of observations, wave vectors and (assumed) origin points all over Europe. It did remind her of something she had seen on maps of Equestria during her studies… Rubbing a hoof against her chin pensively, the Doctor pointed at a point on the chart near the English Channel.

“Do you know anything particular about these areas?”

Dilip leaned forward a bit to take a look.

“That’s Southampton. Not much particular about it, fair-sized port, rather industrial but that’s about it.” He shrugged.

“I didn’t take the bearing, but how accurate is it?” Raimund tried.

“Not much actually, I’d say it’s plus-or-minus four degrees, the CCTV footage wasn’t too good. Why the question?”

The German Captain levitated a pencil over the map and circled an area near a different town, some 50km North-West of the original point. At the range the bearing was taken at in Belgium, the difference was indeed below four degrees.

“There, Salisbury.” The mare stated firmly. “That would make a lot more sense.”

“What’s there in Salisbury?” Radiant asked.

“Near Salisbury.” Dilip corrected. “Stonehenge, an antique site with a circle of raised stones… and a couple ancient tombs too, I think...”

“How ancient exactly?” The Pegasus insisted.

“Thousands of years, I think it dates back to before we even discovered writing.” The pariah dog explained. “That’s a bold statement Raimund, what makes you think it’s tied to the Event?”

“Please…” She rolled her eyes. “With a site like that and magic involved, the correlation is too big to ignore. It’s not the only one either, look at the origin point you plotted in Brittany.”

“What of it?”

“I’ve been there on holidays, depending on the accuracy you either wind up in Broceliande, of all places, or in Carnac. That’s two more big places ley line nut jobs like to blabber about, and I’m pretty sure the intersection around Narvik will lead to something like Viking stones or rock carvings.”

“Did you just say ley line?” Sidereal interrupted her.

“That I did. I think I know where this is going…”

“They are a confirmed phenomenon in Equestria. The surge travelling through them... that would make sense.” The red made told.

“Called it.” Raimund sniffed. “So Doctor, care to tell us what they actually are, just so we’re on the same page?”

Sidereal started off by explaining how magic as a whole was an energy that encompassed everything around them and how it travelled. Equestrian mages had long made observations of how its intensity varied depending on the area, seemingly flowing in certain directions and concentrating in certain areas.

She likened it to a much more complicated variant of a planet’s magnetic field. Where a magnetic field could be summed up to two poles with vectors going from one to another, sometimes with a few anomalies, the ley line field was much more complex. The lines wove an intricate field of nodes and intersections, some more powerful than others but all having some form of a tie to magic. Be it a high intensity area or even a dead zone where the magic waves cancelled themselves.

“That’s nice and all but this leads to more questions than it actually answers.” Alejandro said. “I can visualize the Event creating ley lines, but the ancient sites on the supposed nodes imply they were already there to begin with.” He said, pointedly looking towards the Equestrians.

“To be fair the energy flow around this planet is quite chaotic.” Sidereal frowned. “But looking back at it, I may have indeed spotted hints of ley lines when using my mage sight. At first I assumed the chaotic flow was because they were still forming after the recent exposure to a magic surge but…” She rubbed a hoof through her mane. “…It could also be that it was an overflow.”

“Do explain.” Raimund beckoned her while quickly checking that one of her Officers had started taking notes.

“Bear with me, observations of ley lines and the global magical field through the ages have revealed that it does fluctuate in intensity over the course of several centuries. This may be why I wasn’t told the whole story and your species was so vulnerable to magic… I mean, you could have hit a sort of… long-winded magical drought, the deprivation making humans vulnerable to magic after living without it for so long. But really, it’s just a theory…” She shrugged. “The ley lines would still be there, like irrigation canals during a dry spell, gathering what little magic was left in the world. Then the surge comes and it naturally flows through the lines.”

“That makes sense… I think.” Josselin said, the French unicorn busily writing things down on a notepad. “Gives the whole notion of Disenchantment a literal meaning.”

“Disenchantment?” Radiant cocked his head quizzically.

“Entzauberung in German. It’s a concept established by Max Weber, a German sociologist, around the end of the 19^th century. I don’t remember too much about it but he went on about the development of civilization and rationalization around the globe doing away with traditions and old beliefs.” He waved a brown hoof in the air vaguely. “Gone are all mysteries of magic and religion, we have science now, and as civilization and the scientific mind develop, superstitions are debunked and disappear. I mean… the guy was right in a way; you just have to compare us as sailors now with our equivalent a hundred years back. A lot less mystical and superstitious I’d say. And it’s been happening over the course of centuries.”

“That just means the theorized magical drought is echoed culturally…” Dilip mused. “To the point where it was reduced to nothing in the last century. This reminds me, do you all mind if I have something fetched from the armory? An artifact we retrieved in Belgium.”

They accepted to take a brief break to allow him to get what he wanted to show them. Cups of coffee and tea were passed around the table while some fell into idle talk, the siren they had killed the day before still present in their minds. Raimund stayed silent and carefully surveyed the mood of the Officers present in the room.

Most seemed relieved the threat of the siren was gone, but Josselin and Valentyn were having a chat with Radiant. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but it was clear his two Officers were worried about something.

Chances were, if they were talking with an Equestrian about it, it was all about monsters.

Not that they didn’t worry Raimund either. Sidereal had showed her an Equestrian bestiary when Dilip brought up the subject to recoup it with his own experiences. The kinds of beasts that could possibly be roaming Earth at the moment…

Let it be said that the retrieval of the CV90 was a great reassurance to the teenaged mare considering how big some monsters could get. Some may say the 40mm gun was overkill, she’d tell them to look at drawings of a cave troll. They definitely should give a cursory briefing about that bestiary, if only to clear up some misconceptions.

A rating eventually came back with a package wrapped in canvas he gave to Dilip. Sidereal visibly recoiled when the object came close to her.

“Captain, what in Tartarus is this?” She loudly asked.

“A sword.” Dilip stated, unrolling the canvas packaging and setting it down on the table. “What’s wrong about it, I’d very much like to know.”

Everyone came closer to take a look at it. It was the Congo Sword Bart had obtained at his unit’s regimental museum, but now the weapon was glowing even brighter. The pinkish light coming from the jewel in its power was about as strong as that of a chemlight, as well as that of the blade as they saw when Dilip pulled it out of its scabbard.

And of course there was the deep feeling of wrongness every single one of them felt when they looked at it, as if the sword was staring back at them in malice. Not that it would have surprised them if it did, what with its history…

“According to Corporal De Mesmaeker, it can either be called the Congo Sword or the Heart of Darkness, depending on who you ask.” The Indian explained, fingers drumming against the table. “He brought it to the armory a few days ago reporting it had started glowing and that it was particularly hard to lift with his telekinesis.”

“This sword is enchanted.” The red mare stated, conjuring up her mage sight. “I don’t recognize the enchantment’s type or make, but it clearly is, and it absorbs magic.”

“That would explain why it resists telekinesis…” Radiant commented, the Pegasus hovering above the assembled Officers to get a better look.

“Most likely.” Sidereal scowled at the sword. “Captain, as admirable as the craftsmanship of this sword is… it’s a magical aberration. The magic woven into it screams of pain, misery and resentment. How did this come about?”

The Captain cringed. Guess it was time to tell the ponies about the more… unpleasant aspects of human history. His eyes surveyed the attendance and landed on Erik, the centaur mare serving as the Rhine’s Chief Engineer who just so happened to be Belgian.

“Jakobs I believe? Care to tell our dear equine visitors the tale of the Congo Free State?” The dog asked her with a predatory smile.

That was going to be hard to explain…

At the same time, the veterans were doing some weapon cleaning inside Amandine’s armory. Bart was behind a workbench, busily cleaning the powder residues off of the .50 cal he had used to bring down the siren.

Artyom was working on another bench a couple meters off to the side, trying to fix the scope on his SCAR. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but firing his rifle at the range after the whole siren ordeal revealed it was off target. Considering how far he had been thrown, it really was no surprise the gun’s optic would have been damaged.

“That was a nice shot yesterday.” The dragon commented, screwdriver in claw and carefully inspecting his scope. “How far was it?”

Bart paused for a second, his dirty rag halting midair over his machinegun, wrapped in the telltale glow of his telekinesis.

“760 meters, min of meer. Easy shot with the fire control.” He shrugged. “Hoe is your injury?”

“Just a scratch.” Artyom gingerly brushed a claw over his chest. He had to remove a few of the broken scales after the incident, but there were already a couple new ones growing in their stead. No reason to be worried, he had cleaned it, put a bandage and called it a day.

That, and he had found himself nibbling on some waste metal and looted jewelry (but not the Crown Jewels this time) they had lying around. According to Equestrian books, his scales were rather weak for a dragon his age, something he intended to correct.

“Still, glad to find we’ve one more competent fighter on the crew.”

“It’s my job.” Bart said. “Been in the army since I was eighteen. I went… places.”

“Saw a lot of action?”

That actually got a genuine laugh out of the sky blue unicorn.

“Sorry… I’m Belgian, not American.” He told Artyom with a shake of his head. “I went to Afghanistan, yes, but my country doesn’t fight much. It’s always…” He hesitated. “Guard this airport, watch that checkpoint, train those militia guys, but we don’t go out looking for fights. French do, Brits do, but we?” He chuckled. “Only the luchtmacht attacks, the landmacht guards. If any of us fights, it’s because someone attacked us first, and it doesn’t happen often.”

“Sounds pessimistic.”

“Realistic.” The unicorn countered with a derisive snort. “My people don’t die often in foreign wars, and when they do it’s always very bad press. Belgium…” He sighed. “The army isn’t… wasn’t liked. Someone dies, just in an accident, and the nieuws go: don’t enlist, you’ll die, the pay is bad anyway.”

“That bad uh?”

“I’ve served during the time of the militia and the professional army.” Bart explained, looking down at his brown beret he had set down on his workbench. “When we transitioned and removed military service, it became very difficult to get new soldiers. Always was actually. Dus… most Belgian soldiers are old like me.”

“Can’t be that bad.”

“In Belgium you can only enlist if you are younger than 35. Guess the average age in the army?”

“35 I guess?” The ex-VDV shrugged.

“43 actually.” Bart smiled grimly. “Belgen never were big warriors. What about Russia?”

“What about us?” Artyom quirked his head.

“Just curious. It’s a new world, why be enemies anymore? You’re… were VDV, elite unit. I’m interested.” He said, pointing a hoof at Artyom’s beret which was poking out of his coveralls’ pocket.

Artyom paused to consider his thoughts for a moment, distractedly twirling his screwdriver in his claws.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of having been a paratrooper but… it didn’t end well and I don’t like talking about it ok? If you’re curious, just look up the First Chechen War.” The screwdriver in his claws halted its motion abruptly. “The reason I keep the beret you gave me? That’s because the rest of the crew look up to us veterans. It’s good for morale.”

“Ah… sorry. No ill taken?” Bart excused himself.

“None.” Artyom shook his head. “Leaving the past behind, you think we can get the tank to work?”

The Belgian looked off towards where he knew they had put the combat vehicles with a frown.

“No idea. We can make it work… but work well? It takes training, ervaring-err sorry, experience I meant-, and nobody has that.” He said. “I can help with the Piranhas, but that? Training takes time, and a lot of the time we have better things to do than playing with tanks.”

“Ain’t that true.” The dragon sniffed, releasing a small puff of smoke out of his nostrils. “To be honest? I doubt we will get to use it anytime soon for anything other than training.”

“No argument there.”

Much later in the afternoon, a lone Defender stopped in front of an office building. It was situated in a fairly recent, high-value quarter south of downtown Copenhagen.

Built on reclaimed land, it was very clear by the looks of the area that it had been a recent addition to the cityscape: brand new grey bricks, high-tech window frames, modern energy-efficient architecture… the whole nine yards with wide streets and freshly-planted trees all around. The sides of the canals were even filled with those modern Dutch-built houseboats, the ones that were basically a house on top of a floating concrete box. Aleksei knew the stuff; she had checked the prices of such houses in a couple countries before the Event.

Needless to say, the Latvian didn’t bother checking twice. Way too much for a concrete box in a crowded quarter. She’d rather stick to her shoddy apartment in Riga, at least that one she owned.

That didn’t mean the area didn’t bear marks of disuse, in particular when it came to the houseboats. Some of them had broken out of their moorings and drifted into others, puncturing their brittle hulls and sending them to the bottom of the shallow canals, their upper floors still above the surface. The banks of the canals now looked more like a ship graveyard than the expensive city dwellings they used to be.

The streets didn’t fare too well either. A spring tide had brought layers of silt and sand onto the asphalt, paired with clumps of seaweed some flocks of seagulls were now sifting through in search of shells and crabs. The birds had even pulled trash from nearby garbage cans which now littered the area.

“Something tell me rent would drop significantly if people came back to witness that.” Carla joked.

“Uh, they always were overpriced anyway.” Aleksei replied as she exited the 4x4 and looked at a couple seagulls ahead of them. “If I were to buy something expensive –and trust me I’ve looked around-, I’d rather take something in the countryside. You get much better surface area for the same price.”

“Hmm, dunno.” The cadet hippogriff said, sweeping the entrance of the office building with his SMG. “I’ve always rather liked the city life. Not that it matters anymore either way.”

“I think it still does. You don’t think we will keep roaming around forever do you?”

“Of course not… but will we really get a choice when we settle down?” Carla said.

“Come again?”

“I thought about it, really.” He said. “I bet you at some point we will wind up establishing some kind of HQ somewhere, if only to use it as a depot to drop off stuff we salvage from abandoned cities. So maybe we’ll wind up using a city block as a ‘sailors’ village’ so to speak. No pick on where you get to live, and no country mansion for you either.”

“Or you could just choose to live in a colony we come across.” Sandra butted in, the dark purple batpony walking inside the lobby after them.

Yeah, they had her tag along as a translator. Aleksei didn’t really speak Danish and she’d rather have her by her side than bring a dictionary. The lobby that greeted them left her little doubt this was the tech company she aimed for, what with the modern white furniture and numerous screens around. She just had to find the switchboard and their server room, and she should be able to get the coding repository she needed.

“Sure feels like we have a lot to pick from as of now.” Carla said sarcastically.

“Give it time. I for one am looking forward to when we hit Havana.” Sandra said.

“You do know it’s not going to be a holiday visit?” Aleksei warned her.

She moved over to the receptionist’s desk and started looking for a floor plan of the building. With a bit of luck a tech company would do most of their work in English.

“I’ll make do.” Sandra smiled, revealing her batpony fangs. “I know we’re very busy but it doesn’t mean we can’t spare a bit of time for leisure.”

“The Captain doesn’t like wasting time. And neither does Schmitt. Understandably so when you think about it: us not working doesn’t mean the ship stops running, and to them it feels like fuel burned with nothing gained.”

“Yeah, and there are still things that need to be done either way. We can’t just drop everything for a day. Gotta keep the kitchens staffed, the terminal guarded, someone sober on the bridge with a couple assistant in case shit goes down and so on…” Carla added to Aleksei’s explanation. “Not that you’re wrong, but it’s more complicated than just decreeing nobody’s gonna work on a particular day.”

“My bad, sorry.” She apologized sheepishly.

“Don’t be.” Aleksei patted a wing over her back. “You’re new to the industry. Usually in port we do shore leave in shifts. Not that it’s ever particularly long with Amandine considering the number of ports we gotta hit in short order. I guess now it will get a bit quieter even once we assist enough colonies to get a proper circuit. Shore leave aside, can you translate that floor plan for me? I need the switchboard to restart current in the building, and the server room.” She asked, holding out a folded piece of paper to the radio operator.

“Right, on it.”

Getting the power grid back online and finding the server room didn’t pose too much trouble. Aleksei didn’t even have any difficulty rebooting them once she found it. Rows of led lights lit up inside the room the moment she pressed the button once she got inside, revealing rack after rack of carefully wired servers whilst cooling fans spooled up above her with a loud whirr.

Numerous transparent tubes connected to the back of the servers, each filled with coolant that circled back to a cooling system suspended in a wire cage above her.

Someone had been paid a whole lot of money to make that setup. Now she only needed to figure out how to get in and copy their data…

…Which required her to figure out how to log into the system. Of fucking course she had to. How did she even forget about that part?!

“Kuces Dçls!” She screamed to the skies in frustration at her own oversight.

Or the ceiling rather. A bit less classy.

“Something wrong?” Carla asked her.

“Forgot about the whole login part.” The Latvian muttered dejectedly as she sank down to her haunches, wings limp.

“Can’t you… hack your way inside?” The other hippogriff asked, drumming his talons in a typing motion.

“Need I remind you we’re here so that I can figure out how to code properly? If I could hack into the damn thing we wouldn’t be here in the first place damn it!” She cried out, rearing up on her hooves and swiping her claw against the side of one server rack in frustration.

Carla recoiled slightly at the display, an awkward grimace on his beak. Aleksei fell back down on her haunches with a sigh, head held low. She brushed her talons through her white crest of feathers pensively for a minute or so before finally turning back to the cadet.

“Ok, new plan but this might take a while. You keep an eye on the Defender and tell the ships we will be late on the radio, Sandra and me will start looking around the offices. I bet there must have been an intern or secretary that wrote down their ID and password somewhere.”

“Wait, you’re going to rely on them being sloppy to gain access?”

“It’s not like I got a better idea.” The light-green and white hippogriff told the other. “Only chance I got at getting into that database is hoping they left a key under the metaphorical carpet.”

“Your call, I’ll be outside.” Carla shook his head and headed for the exit, leaving only Sandra and Aleksei inside.

The offices were pretty much the standard fare you would have found when searching for modern hip companies in the tech industry: roomy, with lots of plastic plants and soft tones. The furniture was fairly modern, with many workstations being equipped with those so-called ergonomic ball chairs.

It was so stereotypical the Latvian even found rolled-up yoga mats under a couple desks, and there were others that also had miniature Japanese gardens next to the computers.

“God, I know you Danes are famed for your ‘work-life balance’ but that here is just over the top.” Aleksei scowled after discovering some flyers for a ‘cornflakes saloon’ in the drawers of a desk. “So much hipster shit in there.”

“Eh, don’t mix up hipster city lifestyle with Danish culture.” Sandra replied just as she was flipping through a notebook held in the digits of her wing. Not finding anything, she tossed it aside. “A lot of us are more traditional than that, me included. I find these… trend-obsessed guys to just be vapid and devoid of any actual creativity.”

“You and me both. By the way, how do you find life on Amandine?”

“I’m getting used to it.” The batpony said. “I’m not a fan of the noise you know…” She rubbed a wing against the headphones she was wearing nearly 24/7 by now. “Bat hearing and loud generators don’t get along too well, but it sure is interesting. Many different nationalities to learn about, I find it fascinating.”

“It gets old quick. After a while you just put it aside because everyone speaks English anyway and we’re actually pretty similar from doing the same job.” The hippogriff said after she moved over to the next desk. Funnily enough, the contents usually could tell a lot about the former owner of the workstation. “Don’t get me wrong, we’re very different culturally and it’s easy to notice, but as far as work goes? Anyone that’s been in the industry long enough essentially thinks and works the same way.”

“Really?”

“Okay, maybe there are some small factors but rank and role have more impact than nationality. Officers and Engineers? Educated folks with at least a bachelor’s degree. Take the ratings? Blue collar workers, experienced and trained to work with highly technical machinery. And we’re all firefighters too. Cultural differences only start coming into play once we hang our hardhats.” Aleksei mentioned. “You’ll see once we get more sea time. By the way, I was told you were given a radio station?”

And Sandra had indeed been given the consoles for her radio station which she had set up next to her newly acquired computer inside her cabin. It still wasn’t operational because they needed to install additional antennas above the bridge, just so she wouldn’t be hogging the bridge’s when she made her broadcasts. Not a big deal really, it ought to be finished in a matter of days and she already had a couple ideas.

The dark purple batpony told Aleksei about her dreams of having her own radio station. She already had her ideas for programs and broadcasts, and her job at the maritime radio station had been intended to later lead her to entertainment radio stations.

So now she had drafted a couple ideas about a radio station meant for survivors. She could start giving advice on survival over the waves, tell them how to set up solar panels, fix up a car and even relate all the stuff they had been told by the Equestrians, or whatever they discovered. Of course, considering how spread out colonies were according to the intel they had on American colonies as of now, she had to come up with a plan to make her station available worldwide.

Satellite radio was one such plan. The ‘alliance’ of sorts they had with the HPI meant they had access to a lot of satellite services she could use to make her broadcasts. So her idea was to make use of that system to send her broadcast up to a set of geostationary satellites in orbit, which would then send it back down to receivers all around the globe. Problem was, compared to FM/AM radios, satellite receivers weren’t that common. Without an alternative, few would be able to get her message, so she needed to come up with something better.

Relays. They were still in the conceptual stage, but Sandra had started drafting a system she could use to increase the coverage of her broadcast. It was rather simple, and meant to last without the backup of a functioning power grid. A few solar cells, a small-sized wind turbine and a couple batteries would ensure it always had power for the satellite receiver which would repeat her broadcast on FM and AM waves. Not really that complicated and the unit she had drafted by then took up a fraction of the volume of a TEU. She was pretty sure making it wouldn’t be too complicated either, so they could ‘seed’ the relays wherever they went.

Of course she was no electrician but the Rhine’s had been able to provide her with some valuable insight in the matter. Johann, a German batpony, had been a tremendous help to her pet project.

“You do know…” Aleksei began.

“Ja, of course I do.” Sandra rolled her eyes, tail flicking slightly. “He’s a batpony stallion, I’m a mare, I can put two and two together thank you very much.”

“Are you leading him on?”

“Nej! Of course not! I’d never do that.” Sandra shook her head firmly. “I’ll admit though… he is a pretty sweet guy.” She smiled.

“Cupid strikes again, and here I thought spring was over…” Aleksei drawled. “Listen, I don’t want to be mean but watch what you’re doing ok?” She warned her, talon pointed at a point between the shorter pony’s eyes.

“Come again?”

“Even with the Rhine in the fleet, we’re still a very small group. I won’t stop you from fooling around, I have no right to do so… but sexual tension and relationship drama is about the last thing we need.” The hippogriff said. “Maintaining cohesion in mismatched crews like those is hard enough as it is, we don’t need love triangles and lovers’ spats driving a wedge between sailors.”

“So? What about Vadim and Micha?”

“Come on, the last thing I’d expect with those two is to split up. They were already friends before the Event, and if anything Andy will make sure they stick together. No risk of baseless drama with them.”

“So what’s your point?” She tilted her head, squinting at the hippogriff.

“Sailors may be known for fucking around, but not on our own ship, don’t shit where you eat they say. There is an advantage to being able to sail away. Don’t go spreading your legs –or maybe I should say lifting your tail- on any of the ships, not when you’ll wind up meeting ex-lovers at every turn.”

“What kind of slag do you think I am?!” Sandra raised her voice in anger, hints of the batpony scream attack seeping in her tone.

Aleksei stoically withered the outraged cry and looked the shorter mare in the eye.

“I’m not calling you one. Just making sure you’re warned. You pick a partner, good for you, but stick to your choices.” She said before lifting up a post-it note between two talons. “Found a login by the way.”

She moved off towards the server room, picking up a couple USB keys and a hard drive on the way, Sandra following silently behind her with a frown.

“What about you?” She finally broke the silence just as the hippogriff was beginning to dig into the database.

“What about me?” The hippogriff’s ears rose up.

Aleksei hit a key on the keyboard in front of her and started downloading a couple files. Behind, the batpony loudly plopped down on her belly.

“You heard me. Oddly enough considering many of us have had their gender change along with their species, couples keep popping up on both ships.” She tilted her head. “If you’re going to give me a warning you should probably heed it as well.”

“I don’t need to heed it. Contrarily to most it seems I’m actually determined to get my dick back. Don’t get me wrong, it’s cute to see a couple like Vadim and Micha or Carlos and Danny, but I’m deeply disturbed by how quick they actually got together.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” She pulled out the first USB stick and shoved another in the port. “I’m no fool, I know if I want to live outside and not in a shielded bunker I’ll have to stay a hippogriff as is… but I want to and I will be male again.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with relationships.” Sandra pointed out.

“Please.” The Latvian snorted. “It has everything to do with relationships. Do you really think that Micha, who basically made herself a new family, will actually want to go back to male if someone offered her? I read the Equestrian books, griffons, they pair bond, hard.”

“So you’re just gonna stay alone? That’s sad.”

“Alone is relative.” She waved a wing dismissively. “It never bothered me before, it shouldn’t now. And considering what I got out of the Equestrians, I ain’t gonna find a solution anytime soon.”

She had cornered Sidereal one evening, having figured the Doctor would be the most knowledgeable when it came to transformation magic.

Not much luck with that however. While Sidereal did acknowledge that such changes were possible, she was in no shape or form to be able to pull such tricks with her magic. She had gone on to explain with several examples to the Latvian how most transformation spells were temporary both by design and actual limitations. Even the most powerful of unicorns would be unable to make a transformation last forever. Something about the magic of the spell lattice laid on the target wearing off overtime. Exceptions to the rule were spellcasters so powerful they were the stuff of legend, and magical surges so powerful they could affect entire planets.

Guess which she had been subjected to. Why reality had to conform to the most basic tropes found in media, she had no idea, but anyone who knew the kind of stories she read online would call her situation ironic. Sidereal had further quashed her hopes of a temporary solution by pointing out that she and all former humans produced magic, unlike Equestrians, which meant that their transformation spells would be even less effective. Talk about a downer…

Yet there was hope. Sidereal recognized that Earth and her own planet’s (Equus it was named, if she remembered correctly) magic were different. The discussion on ley lines they had had that morning and the recognition of the Heart of Darkness as a magical artifact supported that theory.

What it meant was that she would have to look for ancient artifacts that may help her with that. Not exactly the most encouraging of prospects, but as long as she had a course to follow she had no reason to give up.

Eh, for all it was worth she could go to Greece and kick a couple of mating snakes. With her luck she could piss off a God and pull a Tiresias.

“Who’s Tiresias?” Sandra asked.

“Just an old Greek myth about a dude that got turned back and forth between man and woman before pissing off Zeus and getting his eyesight taken away.”

“Wait, so you’d rather have your dick than your eyes?”

Aleksei rubbed the underside of her beak. That was a fair question.

“So where were we last time?” Angelo said, the minotaur stopping to crack his knuckles and reach for a can of energy drink in his desk.

He had a pleasant ache in his muscles from an hour-long session spent pumping iron in the gym. He had never been particularly fond of exercising before the Event, but it now felt so damn fulfilling to get some use out of his new muscles.

Carlos wasn’t as… enthused by the activity, what with parrots not being as strong as humans, but at least he did show up.

“I think we were about to enter the industrial era?” Pulp reminded him, the Earth pony pulling a chair closer to Angelo’s desk.

Radiant Course was already sitting on the other side of the minotaur who pushed the start button of his gaming rig with a thick digit. The cooling fans started rotating with a soft buzz, just as the LED lights on the rig lit up much to the awe of both Equestrians, Radiant in particular.

It always brought a smile to the Greek’s face seeing the Pegasus almost childish awe and curiosity every time he showed him a new piece of tech, however anodyne it may seem to him.

He had gone through with his idea of showing them a simplified version of human history by using one of his favorite strategy games: Civilization 5. It may not be the best, nor was it accurate by any stretch of imagination (cue Napoleon denouncing Attila in 500BC), but provided he gave them explanations, it could act as a decent support.

The ponies were no fans of the war aspect of the game, but they showed genuine interest in the development of technology, culture and the growth of empires the game displayed.

“Right, industrial era.” Angelo flicked the tip of one horn distractedly just as he clicked on the game’s icon. “Bit of problems with the Ottomans but we were starting to get our first factories.” He paused to load up their save game. “You got any of those in Equestria?”

“Not many. They’re still fairly new and ponies prefer artisan labor to manufactured goods.” Radiant told him. “Most factories are in very large cities like Manehattan and they make goods for export. Canneries and industrial looms for instance.”

“Yeah, my family operates one of those.” Pulp said. “We get our fruits from the hinterland and have them canned near the docks. Then it’s off towards less fertile lands and even some colonies.”

The display on screen changed to reveal a map of the world, still with some dark areas they had yet to discover. Angelo had set up the game so the parameters were as close as possible to reality, with historical start locations on the Earth map.

He had them play as Greece, obviously, so he could tell them about ancient history in the beginning phases they had already done earlier (that and he felt like stroking his shriveled patriotic streak). By some stroke of bad luck, they wound up near the Ottomans who wound up pestering them for most of the game and fouling their strategy. Vienna has been conquered by Suleiman.

Angelo carried on with the game like he had earlier, taking frequent pauses to tell the two ponies about history in the 19^th century, the technologies they had developed in that time and what had actually happened in real history (as in: Alexander the Great didn’t really vanquish the Ottoman Empire using Gatling guns in 1860).

Turns out, Equestria and most of Equus were actually in the middle phase of their own industrial revolution. The inventions they had didn’t completely match (for instance Equestrian knowledge of firearms was basically nonexistent, though they had developed basic electrical installations rather early) but the similarities were there.

Other similarities including a really fucking weird habit ponies had of naming their cities after English or American towns with horse puns in the name. Were they aware of it? Yes. Why did they do it anyway? Pulp and Radiant just shrugged.

Just as they were starting to go into tech the ponies didn’t have, Angelo paused after giving an explanation on the importance of oil to most of their industry to grab a new can of energy drink.

“What is this? You drink a lot of that stuff.” Pulp poked the now crushed can with a hoof.

“Energy drinks. I drink coffee sometime but I prefer that when I’m just chilling. It’s not healthy, but then again neither is my job.” He shrugged. “Red Bull aside –pun intended- I got to hear Pulp’s life story but not yours Radiant.”

“It’s not exactly interesting.” The grey coated Pegasus muttered. “I’m from Cloudsdale like the overwhelming majority of Pegasi. My mom isn’t though, she immigrated there from the Crystal Empire. Never told me much about it either, and it’s so far up North I never bothered to visit.”

“Surely it gets better at some point.”

“How I got my Cutie Mark maybe.” He smiled. “Always been a fan of airships so… I snuck aboard one back when I was a foal.”

“Buck really?” Pulp laughed. “You mad colt! What happened?”

“They were only going to Canterlot so not much, but their Chief Officer showed me some of the ropes in the chart room and then…” He pointed to the vintage chart symbol on his flank. “The usual. Moral Compass that stallion was called; gave me a long talk about prospects in the industry and then pointed me to the nearest airfleet academy once we were back. Oh… and of course my mom had my hide over the incident.”

“Did you see him again?” Angelo asked.

“Moral Compass? I still see him whenever the winds bring me back to Cloudsdale, he’s become the airship dock’s Captain. Pretty sure he’s a figure most of Cloudsdale’ pegasi got to know at some point. And if you’re an airship sailor? Old stallion’s gonna treat you like family.”

“So wait… Cloudsdale is mostly pegasi?” Angelo asked.

“Well… not entirely. More like, nineteen out of twenty are pegasi, the rest are species that can cloudwalk, mostly griffons, they’re rather common there.”

“Cloudwalk?”

“We didn’t tell you?” Radiant wondered.

“Tell me what? Am I missing some big thing?”

“If by big thing you mean one of the biggest advantages pegasi have in life.” Pulp chuckled. “Winged species like pegasi and griffons can walk on clouds. Cloudsdale? Guess where the ‘cloud’ part comes from.”

“Pardon the pun, but I call bullshit.” The Greek minotaur crossed his arms, giving the two Equestrians a thoroughly unconvinced look.

“Yet the whole city floats a thousand meters above ground.” Radiant told the Greek. “It’s not even the best part. We pegasi can control weather, better than any other winged species.”

“Wha- uh… how?!”

“For one we can move clouds around, get them to drop their rain, divert storm fronts. Cloudsdale also houses Equestria’s weather factory.” The Pegasus smiled.

“Take it from an agronomist, most ponies say the Earth tribe is the reason why our crops are so damn good, but I’d say at least a third of our crop efficiency is owed to optimal weather conditions provided by the pegasi.” Pulp spoke up.

“I can imagine.” Angelo laid back in his chair. “So… what is it like? Are we speaking flying skyscrapers or…”

“More like buildings overwhelmingly made out of clouds. We do use other building materials but they need to be enchanted to connect to the clouds so they’re kind of expensive.” Radiant cracked his wings. “Lemme tell you, best bed you can find will always be a good cloud. If you want Gust and I were going to start showing the flyers tomorrow.”

“And here’s one thing I sure as Hell am going to show up to see.” The minotaur shook his head ruefully. “You know, with all the talk we’ve been having I tend to forget about magic.”

The game started going a bit faster as they snowballed through the Ottomans and started developing more modern technologies. At the ponies’ behest, Angelo stopped the war against Suleiman before they could finish him off and steered their nation towards a scientific victory. The ponies were amazed at some of the technologies humans had come up with like aviation and the internet but some…

The subject popped up the moment one of their cities exploded in a ball of nuclear fire courtesy of one ill-programmed Hindu ‘pacifist’. Angelo had cautiously avoided the topic knowing how the somewhat pacifistic ponies would react to the notion.

Of course Civilization’s Gandhi would throw a spanner in his plans, that’s what he always did.

“What the hay was that? The city’s gone!” Pulp cried out, watching the orange tint of the fallout settle on the land around the formerly bustling city.

“That… was a nuke. Remember what I said about nuclear power plants?”

“Of course. Dangerous, but their raw power is a boon to industry. Are they related?” Radiant’s ears twitched.

Another explosion popped up on screen, wiping out a minor coastal city Pulp had unfortunately chosen to rename Manehattan. The Earth Pony’s ears flattened against his head.

“They are.” Angelo muttered somberly. “In fact, nukes were invented before we started making nuclear power plants. They’re mankind’s most powerful weapon by far as you can see… and also one of our greatest fears. The immense power of a nuclear plant I spoke of? Picture that condensed in one bomb so powerful it can flatten a city.”

Both ponies were aghast at his description. They looked back and forth between the sullen minotaur and the screen before Pulp finally spoke up.

“Why?”

“Good question. They were conceived during a time of war no one had ever seen before. The entire world had been ablaze for years, with one faction refusing to surrender despite mounting losses and the death of millions. So their adversary –the United States of America- came up with nukes. And they were successful.” Angelo rested his muzzle on his fists and stared off at the screen just as Thessaloniki was destroyed as well. “They only had to use two of them before their foe finally surrendered. And once the deed was done… the world was horrified. Beforehand, weapons were powerful, yes, but never to that extent. To think that a single object could achieve such amounts of destruction… it started a primal fear in the hearts of people.”

“I can see the reason why.” Pulp drawled.

“It gets worse… or better depending on how you see it. Some of the bombs’ creators realized how significant the weapon was and started passing information on how to make them to America’ biggest rival. What ensued once they had bombs of their own… is called the MAD doctrine. Aptly named if you ask me.”

“What does it stand for?”

“Mutually Assured Destruction. Each side started making so many of the weapons they numbered in the thousands, if not tens of thousands –pardon me if I’m mistaken-. Far more powerful than the first two, and each faction had enough of them to destroy the entire planet several times over. The MAD doctrine? It means nobody ever dares going to war with the other, because if they do, nobody will win and everyone will die.” Angelo theatrically pressed a finger against a key on his keyboard. “And all that power was in the hands of a few individuals who only needed to press a button to wipe us all out.”

“But that’s crazy!”

“It is. But it worked in a way. With the exception of small-scale conflicts, no large war has ever been waged since then. Sure, you’ve got the odd civil war, independence conflicts and some insurrections but it worked overall.” Angelo rapped a knuckle against the side of his head. “People remember the day they were first used, they remember the tests made in empty wastelands with much larger bombs, that leaves a mark in their heads. I wouldn’t say most humans are particularly clever, but nobody’s dumb enough to start playing with the world-ending firecrackers.”

“You humans are crazy.” Pulp shook his head.

“Yeah, I ain’t gonna contest that.” The minotaur chuckled somberly. “If anything I’d say I’ve spent enough time on the internet to figure out we’re just as capable of achieving dumb shit as we are of doing great stuff. Hell, sometimes it’s even both at once.”

He looked back towards the screen to see that Gandhi’s nuke frenzy had abated… for now. Idly, he started up the production chain for the spaceship parts they’d need to finish the game and get their science victory.

“You know, the same tech that allowed us to fire nukes all over the globe stems from the same branch that sent some of us to the moon. It’s not a unique case either, many discoveries we’ve made in the past have been used both for ill and for good. Take chemistry for instance, that branch of science helped us sanitize our water and save millions of lives from dysentery while at the same time leading to the advent of deadly chemical weapons that can literally make your own blood turn toxic.”

Radiant paled at the mention of chemical weapons, but to the pegasus’ credit he shook it off and focused back on the screen while Pulp reclined back in his chair, deep in thought.

They were just about to finish the game when the Earth pony rasped his throat.

“The nukes… are they stored safely?”

“I think most of them were on warships but some were… oh son of bitch!” He stood up, throwing his chair back.

Sure, a lot were on board of warships but it was just as likely that many of them would be in airbases and nuclear silos. Stuff that hadn’t been taken away along with its caretakers. This meant that there were now thousands of unattended warheads all around the globe, just waiting to be swiped away by some of the intelligent monsters like the siren they had just killed.

The HPI had better have something in store against that.

Author's Notes:

If anyone was wondering, Broceliande is the enchanted forest in Arthurian Legends, nowadays it's assumed to be in Brittany. As for Carnac, it's a site with over 10.000 standing stones all lined up, along with a couple burial mounds and ancient tombs.

All in all, exactly the type of stuff you'd expect at a node in the ley lines.

On the matter of shore leave, that's one thing I found differs vastly between military and merchant sailors. Back in the navy I could reliably expect at least a day of shore leave when we stopped in port, but as a merchant? More often than not the leave doesn't exceed the twelve-hours treshold.

Eh, when it's not the taxpayer that's paying your harbor fees you don't waste your time.