There were a lot of things the WSU wanted or needed to get done while they were in Cuba, both for their sailors’ sake to fill the growing need for R&R, and for the locals’ sake when it came to providing support and ensuring they would get a good footing to build trade capabilities on.

Roberto and Alej’ were still busy sorting stuff out at the hotel, but that didn’t mean the rest of the fleet had to remain idle.

Rhine and Amandine were still carrying the relief supplies they had acquired way back in Copenhagen, salvaged from the UNICEF depot. Containerized field hospitals, medical supplies in bulk, the sort of stuff they usually shipped to catastrophe-struck areas of the world.

Lacking any sign that the area had been visited by Equestrian relief teams, and given the rarity of doctors and other medical personnel in the current world, now was as good a time as it could get to use them and help out the locals.

Come to think of it, they hadn’t heard of the Equestrian relief teams in more than a month. In all likelihood they had all gone back to Equus when it became too hard to travel between the two worlds.

Which in turn meant Radiant Course really was stuck on Earth.

“So you’re not too hung up on that?” Angelo inquired to his friend as the two of them were backing up a truck to install the last part of the containerized hospital inside the cruise terminal Amandine and Fugro were moored at.

Fairly roomy, actually. The terminal was basically a converted warehouse from the late industrial period: stone pillars maintained a vaulting ceiling maintained by many steel beams, leaving enough space in the middle to let all of Amandine’s vehicles maneuver, while the sides consisted of old shopping galleries, abandoned restaurants and customs offices customary of a cruise terminal.

By the entrance where they had set up their checkpoint, some of the sailors on guard duty had reclaimed a coffee shop and found a way to fix up the machines.

Angelo didn’t spare them more than a glance. At least they wouldn’t nap on duty, not with how strong Cuban coffee was.

“I told you… I knew what I was getting into when I stowed away, and so far I’m not regretting it.” The much smaller pegasus told the minotaur as he hovered in place outside the truck’s window, guiding Angelo. “We’re all more or less cut off from where we’re from either way. Some of us are just a little bit further away.”

“Your call.” Angelo shrugged, stopping the engine at a wave of Radiant’s hoof. “So how does Earth feel for an alien?”
“Fascinating. All this tech, the ruins, and the ancient magics at play… There are authors back home who’d have a field day from all the inspiration it provides.”

“That’s not just Equestrian authors I think, but I catch the drift. You planning on doing anything while we’re in Cuba by the way?”

“No uh… not really.” The pegasus landed on the roof of the truck’s cabin, craning his neck down to look at the minotaur through the windshield. “Sandra said she had some plans though.”

“Oh right… forgot you and the DJ were an item. How’s she?”

“She’s a nice mare, I’ll give her that. Whether that’s to last… eh.” He ran his primary feathers through his mane. “I can’t really tell just yet. Hasn’t been long enough.”

Angelo eyed him dubiously.

“Pal…”

“Don’t start, please.” Radiant raised a wing to halt him mid-sentence. “I- I’m aware I’d gotten to a point where I was rather unaccustomed to ponies.”

“Weird given they’re your own species.”

“I’m trying Angie.” He sighed. “And it’s not like I’m using Sandra to get into ponies again. I genuinely like her, it’s just...”

“What? You still down because Aleksei blew you off?”

Radiant did a double take. “How did you even hear about that?”

“Just a rumor. Think I heard it from Carlos, but you pretty much confirmed it, sorry.”

“Look… I’m not using Sandra, I...” His wings sagged. “I’m only saying… I hung around Mount Aris too much way back. More than a pony should. You get to a certain point, you stop thinking ‘herd’. You’re… different. I’m just trying...” He trailed off.

“You feel like you have to go for ponies.” Angelo guessed as he pulled the truck’s door open and hopped out with a heavy thud. “Why you think that way I have no idea, since ponies are able to reproduce with several other species.”

“Ah… No… I mean...” Radiant stammered. “Look, back in Equestria inter-species relations are kind of a taboo. Mom was pretty open about this since we came from the Crystal Empire before we moved to Cloudsdale and with Princess Cadence it was fairly liberal, but inner Equestria is different. I promise I like Sandra...”

“But you’d rather be with Aleksei.”

The pegasus’ shocked face was telling. True though, the hippogriff mare was hard to miss ever since she’d become a cleric and Epona made her so… curvaceous.

“Can we talk about something else, please?” Radiant whinnied. “I’d rather not be discussing the ethics of my relationships while you’re somehow fine with eyeing Artemis like you’re not sure whether or not to approach her.”

“So you caught that?”

“I did. But I’ll be the diplomatic pony and offer a skillful topic shift: what were you planning to do in Havana then?”

Angelo went silent for a couple seconds, though only as long as it took him to move over to the truck’s trailer and start dropping the container’s stilts.

“Beyond work you mean? Not sure. I had an idea of geeking it out with Carlos in my free time, but Vadim’s been nagging me that we should pull some strings and get ourselves some of those antique cars. Been told they were a piece of work to fix though… You?”

“If you two don’t mind, I’d be happy to play along with the geeking… and help out with the cars if you get some nice ones. I like those machines. Such an impact on your civilization, you see it in all your cities. It’s like every family has their own piece of high-tech machinery they can use on a whim to go wherever they want. You don’t get that on Equus. You want to travel, you gotta find room on a train or airship. It’s never quite as convenient as what you got.”

“Right…” Angelo blinked. “You mind checking the fitting on those stilts? Don’t want the mobile lab to fall over when I remove the trailer from under it. Bit of warning though: me and Carlos, we got our playlist planned out for the geeking. It’s gonna be gory, and I know you ponies ain’t fond of that.”

“I’ll bear it.”

That would come later, however. The fleet’s arrival in Cuba was still recent, and much had to be done before anyone could catch some respite. Engine room maintenance, security details, the usual fresh coats of paint necessary to combat rust, their work schedules were far from empty.

That didn’t change the fact that there was a shared sentiment across the fleet. A sentiment that Havana would be more about R&R than usual, which soon led up to all three Captains having little ideas and projects landing on their desks such as ‘rum soirees’ and ‘beach parties’.

They’d get around to it. Sure.

But first they had to loot commie guns. To fortify Havana.

“What do you mean by ‘I don’t know’?! Concord!”Starswirl cried out. “The artifacts, we need to know where they are! To locate them!”

In front of the ghost, the little cloud of magic that was the Golden Tree’s projection flickered and almost recoiled at the outburst.

“I- I’m sorry Mister Merlin… I know the artifacts all exist, but I can’t point you to them.”

“But why? Concord, I was there when we planted you, I was one of the bearers for your… ahem ‘sister’s’ set of Elements. I’m teaching one of your own bearers! Are you really telling me you won’t say anything about which artifacts you picked?”

The little cloud shrunk a little and hovered from side to side repeatedly, its hue darkening ever so slightly. Was he… was he shaking his head? Hard to tell a cloud’s body language.

“It’s not that I won’t. I trust you. I really do. But Harmony… she’s like me, and… I mean no offense Mister Merlin, but she probably knows better. For one, I shouldn’t tell you because destiny wills that they be found by their own bearers – Martin raised the stone on his own, I felt that-, and for second: even if I wanted to tell you, I can’t. Because I don’t know where they are either.”

“Hold on- you don’t?”

“I never had any idea Martin’s artifact was your staff. He found out on his own. I’m only aware there is a… a destiny bond I think it’s called? I know it’s there, but I can’t track it. All I know is: it will happen. At its own pace. You can’t force it.”

“B- but! Urgency! The Demons! Charybdis and Scylla a- and… their goons!” The old ghost of a mage stammered uncharacteristically, for once coming up short.

And why did it always have to be destiny? Even Princess Sparkle repeated that whenever it was about the Elements of Harmony, but why did Concord have to indulge in such… such…

Not unlike Concord’s cloud that would flicker when under strong emotions, Starswirl’s ghostly form shimmered. Except in his case it was frustration.

“Do you at least have an idea as to when they might appear?”

For some odd reason, he was pretty sure the little magic cloud grinned slyly.

“In time. They won’t be late. But if you were hoping to get rid of them in short order...”

“I know I know...” Star raised his hoof to halt him. “My pupil isn’t ready yet anyway. I’m just asking so I don’t sit around in expectation for a couple months when they won’t be there for another five years.”

He had to give it to Concord, for a tree restrained to expressing himself through a magic cloud, he could make it pretty expressive. Never in his life did Star think he would see a magic cloudlook at the sky sheepishly.

“I’d tell you… but it’s hard to tell to begin with. Some I know are here but aren’t at the point in their life where they’ll be ready yet, some are too young and poorly trained, some have yet to reappear at all. I… you know what, five years might actually be a safe bet. Yes, five years. Leadership looks like it will take time to come around.”

No shit. Of course the future wielder of Excalibur would take his sweet time. The one bucking Element they actually had the artifact for! But hey, on the bright side, if this cruel mistress that was Lady Destiny thought five years weren’t long enough for Demons to take over the world and sweep them into a millennium of darkness, then at least he could tell Rockhoof his new fiefdom was safe.

-ish.The Fomorians had yet to show their ugly mugs.

“Thank you Concord.” Starswirl nodded curtly, already conjuring up the teleportation spell that would take him back to his tower. “I’ll tell Martin he can come by sometime soon. I know you like his visits.”

“Oh yes-yes!” The little cloud fluffed up in a show of joy that actually denoted how young he still was. “Tell him he can come and go as he pleases! It gets so dull here without anyone!”

“I will. Promise.”

And then Star vanished.

A few kilometers away, Trecesson was yet again showing further signs of progress. More than just farming and lumber, life was well and truly setting into its own marks in the recently founded village whose looks blended medieval architecture with odd technological outbursts such as the electric poles that ran alongside the narrow streets and the tall radio tower that poked out through the castle’s roof.

It had been a little over a week since the locals were done with the palisade that surrounded the village as well as the fences that protected their fields and cattle.

They couldn’t just sit on their collective rumps farming though. Yields were high enough that it wasn’t a concern: Broceliande’s magic made it so plants grew so fast, they were already on their fifth harvest. Their stores were full.

Unicorn telekinesis helping, many of the craftier locals had taken to improving the dwellings and building more. Some only settled with adapting the ergonomics to better fit the deer/unicorn majority of the population, others…

Lionel had been one of the first returnees to arrive in Trecesson after Meadowbrook and Rockhoof. He’d come along with Sandrine, the same lazy doe Rock had been forced to toss in the moat before she got to work, manning their charcoal kiln.

A mere barman as he used to be, the unicorn stallion was nowhere near as lazy as his girlfriend. His former hobby of carpentry, in the past contained to his toolshed, had first been turned into being the colony’s resident handyman, before becoming something more. He had been the one to go into details as to how the palisade and the watchtowers should be built, and he had been the one responsible for the conversion of one of the outbuildings’ lower floor into a proper schoolhouse (leaving the upper floor free for the village’s teacher). And he had his share of projects at the ready too.

Trecesson had a lot more potential than you’d first think. More than just the admittedly roomy castle that could house a fair amount of settlers in its own right, the outbuildings were what he thought truly held potential.

A taste for aesthetics had pushed the previous owners into toppling some of the least used buildings to create room, leaving just the essential farm buildings along with a couple houses for tourists visiting the region. And it did achieve its goal: the sturdy gray stone buildings with their shingled roofs were nice to look at, with plenty of room to breathe between them.

It also left plenty of unused plots of land. In a steadily growing village that saw returnees join the fold on a weekly basis.

Of course they wouldn’t stay empty for long. There was already one plot reserved for the temple they were due to build come next year – and that they’d need to get around to collecting the stone for at a nearby quarry, that wasn’t going to be much fun either-. Lionel was already drafting some plans for it. Maybe something inspired from a stave church? Wood was easy to get, so maybe the style would cut down on the amount of stone they needed to get.

No, no… Too much wood wouldn’t fit. A stave church would look out of place. Maybe with just the lower third of the building as stone and supporting stone pillars all around? They might work nice, like Menhirs… He’d find something.

But the temple was only one plot of land.

Others… he was doing his best to convince Rockhoof there was a need for. More than just houses mind.

“So… you drafted plans for what exactly?” The large Earth Pony repeated as the two of them settled at a table inside the castle’s library.

Neat place too. Varnished woods panels and tinted windows warmed up the atmosphere considerably when paired up with the thick reddish carpets and dark furniture, bookshelves notwithstanding. Were it not for the vaulted ceilings above them you wouldn’t even notice you were in a big hulking medieval castle.

The previous castellan sure had taste. Only issue was the furniture was a bit too tall for quadrupeds, and the doorknobs… weren’t ideal for deer.

“For you, I got some simple houses, modifications to add wooden floors to existing stone buildings to enlarge them and get us extra accommodation, some drafts for a workshop that blends a smithy you’d already be familiar with modern machining tools...” The unicorn said as he lit up his horn and lifted the plans and drawing out of his satchel. “...and I made a tavern too.”

“A tavern?” Rockhoof deadpanned. “You drafted plans for all essential buildings, chief of which would include... a tavern.”

“Why yes!” Lionel laughed. “Peeps need a place to relax, and with Meadow pregn-”

“You noticed?”

“Bump’s showing.” Lionel pointed out. “And as I was saying… maybe a lady like her doesn’t need a bunch of folks boozing up in the castle’s kitchens and banquet hall every day after work. It’s good for dinner so far I’ll give you that, and eating together works wonders for colonial unity, but even then there is only so much we’ll be able to cram in the castle before it gets crowded.”

“And a tavern would help?”

“Somewhat, at least. It would help with morale across the whole village and make it roomier than having everyone eat in the castle most of the time.” Lionel said.

“Didn’t you work in a bar before?”

“Eeyup.”

“And you wanna do it again?”

“Maybe, I’ll admit it.” He rubbed a hoof through his white mane. “I mean… that ‘cutie mark’ on my flank is supposed to mean something, and last I checked-unless I need glasses- it’s a beer keg. I like the job. I know the handyman stuff is more useful as a whole but… you know the apiary?”

“The apiary we built that other day? What of it?”

“Just telling you I know how to make some pretty sweet stuff with honey. You’ve ever heard of chouchen?” Lionel asked Rockhoof, punctuating his question by pulling out a little glass bottle from his satchel.

The large Earth Pony eyed its contents curiously, watching the rich golden liquid inside it shimmer slightly as it hovered in front of him, safely held in Lionel’s telekinesis.

“Today’s the first time… Mind if I taste it?”

“That’s the whole reason I brought it.” Lionel beamed. “And for your information, there is more we can make as alcohol than just beer from the extra wheat. Chouchen is our regional liquor in Brittany. It’s a kind of mead we make by fermenting honey with just a hint of apple juice to start the process.”

“You had me at mead.” Rock’s smile matched the other stallion’s as he downed the whole bottle in one go, fully taking in its odd blend of honeyed flavor with an aftertaste of cider. “Faust’s engorged teats!” He cried out boisterously. “That’s a good one if I’ve ever drank any. You say you can make more?”

“Chouchen I can make and keep you a steady supply in the fridge. I could also make some blends of beer and cider with all the extras we get from our harvests and…”

Lionel hadn’t finished his sentence before he found himself enveloped in a beer hug courtesy of one happy Rockhoof who he honestly hadn’t ever seen smiling so widely. The bright-eyed stallion kept a hoof wrapped around the much smaller unicorn, looking up as if he were posing for a painting, thick ginger beard blowing in the breeze.

Wait, weren’t they inside? Lionel blinked owlishly.

“Buddy… that here just secured you your tavern. Anything you want to get it done, you come by and I’ll make sure you get it.”

“You really like mead then?”

“Yes! And I hate wine. Do you have any idea how many casks of the stuff there are in the castle’s cellars?” He paused to look off in the distance thoughtfully. “Neither do I, it’s mostly Meadow that goes to the basement since she put her potions lab there, but I know it’s too much wine and not enough mead. Or beer for that matter.”

There was a bit of praise after that, encouragement to get the project going and complete it soon, Lionel had never seen the usually stoic stallion behaving so… effusively. He wouldn’t complain. He had a beer keg tattooed on his butt, and the pony motto was to follow the butt tattoo.

Words to live by.

At about the same time on the castle’s ramparts, Miles was just looking down into the moat glumly, the pegasus comfortably lying down on her belly atop a piece of cloud she’d plucked earlier that morning.

She had stopped even caring how pegasi could even do that. She just wasn’t in the mood.

Earlier that day, before Starswirl/Merlin even went to visit Concord, the wizard had made his first attempt at turning her back into a male.

If it had worked she wouldn’t be in this mood to begin with. Or a she.

Right back where she started. Merlin had thrown a quick transformation spell. For a couple seconds it had actually worked. She had grown a couple inches, bulked up to the point that the collar of her poncho almost popped, even grown back her dick – equine or not she wasn’t going to be picky-.

She should have paid attention to his warnings.

Transformations were hard to pull off to begin with. Not only were the spells finicky, but then came the matter of making the transformation last. Most creatures had some form of internal magic, and that magic most often rejected transformation spells. In most cases? Beneficial. It ensured hexes didn’t last forever unless extremely elaborate spellcasting was used.

Bit of a problem when you want the contrary to happen.

Thing is… were it only human or Equestrian magic present at a time, Starswirl would have been able to turn Miles male without too much hassle. He had done it in the past, with both kinds of magic, in Equestria and on Earth.

Now though?

That same jumbled mess of manas that made Broceliande so damn powerful and hyper-charged the entire planet had thrown things for a loop. Any returnee’s magic included a blend of both Earth and Equestrian mana that not only rejected spells and transformations on their own (something he could work around), but combined together to work against his efforts of turning back (that one he couldn’t work around, not yet at least).

As a result, the ‘test spell’ he had tried out to see if the transformation was possible hadn’t lasted a quarter of an hour as it should have. She had shrugged it off in seconds.

But hey, there was an upside: Starswirl was more or less certain returnees wouldn’t be forever petrified by cockatrices, or even gorgons, if any fool ever became too nosy in Greece.

“Looking like somebody murdered a puppy in front of your eyes there, Miles.”

That was Emeric. The wiry unicorn had managed to sneak up on her while she was busy moping about herself. He trotted over to her side, horn lighting up to reach into the cigarette stash she kept hidden under a loose bit of masonry.

“Yeah… so close yet so far they say. Never figured it was so darn frustrating.” She whinnied. “For a couple seconds I was male again… and then poof. Back where I started.” She made a blowing-up motion with her forehooves.

“If I recall… you were warned it wasn’t gonna last the first time around.”

“Doesn’t help.” She leaned further into her bit of cloud and flicked her mane to the side. “Believe me. I’ve kept telling myself since this morning and it’s done jack shit to improve my mood.”

“That bad uh?” Emeric stuck a lit cigarette in his mouth and took a long drag. “If it comforts you, it’s Merlin after all. Ain’t nothing but a matter of time until he figures out something… and then it will not only help you, but all the folks that have had their gender swapped too. It’s alright.”

Miles frowned. Sure it would be a solution… and she wasn’t the only one to have had her nethers swapped around by her transformation…

But she was the only one to be somewhat proactive at turning things around. All the others, male-turned-female or female-turned-male, they didn’t seem to want to bother. Hell, some of them had already found partners.

“What if the cure comes out too late?” She muttered under her breath.

“You were saying?” Emeric asked, the unicorn draping a hoof over her shoulder.

The gesture didn’t help her state of mind. She had slept with the stallion. For a first with their equine bodies… the experience, in the intimacy of the castle’s thick walls and her chambers… it had been downright breathtaking.

If odd. Emeric had felt compelled to bite her neck for some odd reason and she didn’t even mind. Equine instincts, probably.

“What if I reach a point where I don’t feel it’s necessary anymore? That I get… too acquainted to femininity.”

“You’re thinking about this too much.” Emeric shrugged. “Unless you wanna say something else, all we did was fool around. And you’re not gonna get stuck either, or enslaved to your bodily needs. We have protection, Meadow can make you potions to combat the effects of heat cycles, you’re good.”

“Yeah...” She sank deeper in her piece of cloud, relishing in the contrast between the chilly dampness of the water vapor and the relative heat of Emeric’s hoof over her shoulder. “I’m good.”

Down below in the moat, there was some wild flapping of wings and quacking. Martin had just tossed some bread crumbs in the water, and the resident mallards began a race for the best bits.

Way to the north in Narvik, morale ran high in the colony.

Their recent first contact with the dwarves from the mine high up in the mountains had come with the news of one of their first trade opportunities. In practice it wasn’t very easy to manage since the little creatures from the underworld outright refused to come out of their galleries so long that the sun was up, but the resources they offered to trade were well worth the trouble.

Unsightly as they were without their armor, they made up for it in spades through sheer craftsmanship that saw plenty of uses among the locals who bought their goods those few times the dwarves journeyed to Narvik for a night market. Many of the items, components and tools they sold came with enchantments that put them above their mundane equivalents, pricey as they were. Language barrier was a thing though, but Agmund was there to translate every time one of the stout little miners was in town.

And the dwarves, they were fascinated by human technology. Centuries of advancements had been missed due to the disappearance of magic, and they were eager to catch up. Technical manuals, syllabi, even old editions of Popular Mechanics regardless of the language, anything they could get their little hands on to catch up with the humans, they bought regardless of how expensive it was. And salvage too, obviously.

In addition to that, many of the local farmsteads and fisheries had found they also had a thirst for the exotic. Production of anything organic in the underworld was limited, and dwarves relished a good meal and drink to light up their days. Folks such as Gunnar – who was already selling them some very lucrative mana stones plucked straight from the convergence point near his farm, since the dwarves apparently used the stuff for their enchantments- would thus regularly sell them anything from meat to milk along with leather, lumber, fish.

By rule of thumb, if it was organic, you could barter a dwarf into buying it at the night market.

The increased economic activity also spurred further changes in the colony. Gone were the temporary stalls usually raised near the marina on market days, now replaced with a more permanent trading hall raised out of a converted warehouse, with solid stalls, refrigerated storages and even a handful of actual shops manned by those few locals who weren’t working on farmsteads or salvaging.

Narvik was once more blooming into a town proper. They even had an actual doctor now!

Ok, maybe the doctor in question was just a reindeer that used to be a veterinarian, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to start being picky. She toured the fjords to go after patients, she treated cattle, she treated people, she even did dentistry!

Yeah, you try to find a dentist after the apocalypse. See how much luck YOU have!

Dilip sat down at the table only once he got his paws on a cup of Darjeeling, much to the annoyance of his fellow Captains as they looked at him expectantly. The three of them had settled down inside one of the ultramodern meeting rooms the Fugro Symphony had available for the company executives she would sometimes transport. Arrayed between them on the table were several folders filled with intel reports, including Roberto’s first assessment of Havana now that the cat was back from the hotel.

So now it was up to the three of them to set a course.

Which wasn’t going to be easy with their limited resources.

“And it’s why I think we will have to split up the fleet once we leave Havana” Dilip enunciated after taking the first sip of his tea.

He frowned slightly.

Maybe he’d have to ease off the Darjeeling while they were in Cuba. The whine of the A/C fighting off the tropical heat was hard to ignore, creating a fresh breeze that blew through the meeting room, ruffling the bronze fur on his neck before it escaped through a nearby porthole left halfway open.

Green tea maybe? Moroccan green tea was pretty good at combating the heat after all.

“Why would we have to split up?”

“Recent intelligence. I think we need to attend to local colonies in as short order as possible before we head back to Europe and set up a base of operations.”

“Whose location has yet to be decided as of now.” Skinner reminded, the hedgefog punctuating his words by tapping a digit against the table for emphasis. “Lots of candidates to sort through.”

“And it’s not why we’re meeting today.” Dilip clarified. “The HQ, we will decide the location of later on, with proper consideration for all our needs. Today is about what happens after Cuba.”

“Weren’t we due for Mexico? The fuel refinery?” Lorelei inquired quizzically. “In my books that was pretty straightforward.”

“And since your ship has the largest capacity to carry liquid cargo and fuel, youwill go to Mexico, rest assured. Plus intel and satellite pictures indicate it’s a decently big colony, so it’s high on our list.” Dilip acknowledged. “What I’m wondering about...” He looked pointedly towards Skinner. “… are the other colonies we have data on.”

“You want me to reach those?” The hedgefog guessed in a flat tone.

“Possibly.” Dilip nodded as he set down his teacup and reached for a specific folder. “Intel shows two colonies south of us. Sao Paulo is way too far and they have stabilized their situation since the pirate attack, but we have another colony in Brazil. Belem. And there’s another smaller one on the island of Dominica.”

“Dominican Republic you mean?”

“Not that one. You’re thinking about the large island in the Greater Antilles. Dominica is in the Lesser Antilles, just north of Martinique.” His fellow Captain corrected. “One of the islands hit by a hurricane recently, sat pics show a refugee camp that was gathered in a stadium prior to that has moved further inland. Roughly fifty people. None of our ships can dock in Roseau though… Except for Fugro.”

“I get it. Dock, find the locals, help them get their footing.” Skinner stopped Dilip with a raised hand. “I guess that’s what I’m going to get up to while you’re in Mexico.”

“Pretty much, yes.” Dilip confirmed. “As for Belem… satellite observations point to increased activity in the outskirts of the city as of late when the jungle’s overgrowth picked up noticeably. I don’t think you’ll find any problem with pirates there, but… we got objectives still.”

“Which are?”

“Armament, mostly.” Lorelei explained. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s still all about helping the locals get a footing, but where we’ll be busy getting the fleet a supply of non-recycled fuel and setting up a refinery in Mexico, you will need to get us guns. Big ones.”

“Hold on a sec...” Skinner quirked his head and pointed out the porthole. “Aren’t we already helpin’ them Cubans get cannons for the fort?” He asked, his Scottish accent finally rearing its head.

“Yep, but it ain’t what we need.” Lorelei shook her head. “Heavy guns like a 130mm are way too big. We need something more reasonable, and multipurpose. Easy to install too. You’ve seen the CV90 they got on Amandine? That’s the guns you’ll need to keep an eye out for. Bofors 40mm.”

“That’s the stuff you want to arm the fleet with?”

“To be fair, it’s an excellent gun. Good rate of fire and range with the proper optics, enough piercing power with the APFSDSto punch through any monster at sea or ashore, and small enough to be mounted on merchant vessels without requiring… well, I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy…” Dilip scrunched up his muzzle. “… but it’s going to be easier than trying to mount howitzers. At least it shouldn’t require any stop in a dry dock. Data reports the Brazilian marine corps used them, and there just happens to be a base in Belem, near an airfield.”

“Ok… so… Get Bofors guns for the fleet, with ammo of course, help the locals however they need it, and… ya said sumthin’ ‘bout overgrowth?”

“Ja, Belem isn’t on the Amazon, but it’s still a gateway to the jungle. With all this magic in the air, I wouldn’t be surprised if something’s changed.” Lorelei told.

“Great.” Skinner commented acidly. “Fun-fun times ahead. Findin’ survivors in the hills of Dominica and figuring out what’s weird with the Amazon.”

“We’re not forcing you.” She pointed out. “We really can’t. If you want to come along to Mexico it won’t be a problem. It’s just going to delay our plans.”

“Ah know that. But it’s necessary and me and my men will do it. Got some Portuguese folks on board anyway, language ain’t gonna be much o’ a problem.” Skinner sighed and shook his head ruefully. “At least morale is gonna be good when we leave. Havana… pretty quiet place all things accounted for. Worst thing on the block I heard of was packs of feral dogs. That true?”

“The grapevine didn’t lie. Monsters have yet to reach the city.” Lorelei stated carefully.

“Good. Crews could use the rest before what’s comin’. Setting up stuff ‘round here should be a cakewalk. Quick question: Dominica and Brazil, was that all the intel you...”

“Bought from the HPI?” Lorelei completed. “No, there is info on more colonies than just that. It’s just close enough that we can spread out to attend to that and regroup before we head back to Europe. All intel we bothered to buy so far was about the Americas, and there’s one more colony in...” She trailed off. “Quebec I think it was? Too far north to bother with just yet, we’ll reach out to them eventually, but only once we’ve set up a HQ.”

“Will do...” Skinner stood up slowly. “Now it ain’t that you’re both are annoyin’ or anything like that, but I’m trying to get as much work done as soon as possible so I can join in on the R&R once it’s all settled down.”

“The tourists though?” Dilip pressed.

Skinner paused for a couple seconds.

“Way I see it… for the Americans and Canadians we can just dispatch some of Rhine’s auxiliaries to drop them off in Florida. It’s not like there are that many of them anyway, and they’d have to sort it out for the rest of the way. Mexicans you’ll probably bring along to that refinery of yours which leaves… well, the Europeans ought to stay put while we’re busy in Brazil and Mexico.”

“Stop by and pick them up on the way back?” Lorelei guessed.

“Stop by and pick them up on the way back.” He confirmed.

Through the porthole, they heard the roar of an airplane engine. Right, the Tucano. They were still flight-testing that thing.

One day had already passed since she got Petra’s bloodwork and Naomi was still pacing around the lions’ den. Her guilt-riddled mind just wouldn’t let her sleep. She had even accompanied the rest of the pride on a hunt to buff up her food stores and help soothe her mood, but ever since she’d gotten the lab results and thus the revelation that her little stunt had worked… she couldn’t even look in the other lioness’ general direction.

Petra had yet to show signs of her pregnancy.

Had she still been in the US, then she was pretty sure her father would have taken his old-and-dying F100 all across the country from Texas just to slap her in the face and teach her a (perfectly deserved) lesson about playing God.

But… Petra’s hybridized offspring… her own offspring technically… it should be the last piece she needed in the puzzle of big cats’ heightened intelligence and their relations to sphinxes like her.

“Yeah keep telling yourself that...” She berated herself as the zebra stew simmered in a pot across from her, suspended over a fire pit she had dug soon after settling down at the den. Last thing she wanted was to set the entire savanna on fire. She had dug it near the trough she used to provide the pride with drinking water, thus finding herself pacing in the middle of the whole pride as they looked down at her from their sunning spots.

Little winged lioness was weird. Made weird roars to herself and liked to burn her food for some reason.

One of the cubs that had been eyeing the fire with his little curious eyes approached her and chuffed, patting her leg for comfort.

“Don’t worry kiddo...” Naomi smiled awkwardly as she patted him on the head and sent him back towards his nearby mother. “… it’s just adult worries. Keep your innocence.”

Her wings sagged at the thought of how people may regard her for what she’d done if the truth ever came to light.

But it wasn’t like she was going to tell anyone. Not even Sandra on the radio would ever know, and the batpony had been her long-distance confident for a while already. Nobody could know.

A thud behind her signaled Kiba was making yet another attempt at stealing her food. With a resigned sigh, she flipped around and used her telekinesis to grab the male by the mane before he could get to her food.

“Fuck’s sake, you want food then go hunt your own otherwise you won’t be nothin’ but a horny ball of lard.” She snarled as the male reared up on his hind legs with a roar as she tugged him backwards. “That’s my share, ya lazy shithead!” She roared at him.

Male of the pride or not, he didn’t respond to her challenge and opted to retreat behind his harem before she could relieve her pent up frustration on him. Going by the rumbling that came out of the lionesses that had observed the altercation, they found it amusing. Weird winged lioness was fierce.

Naomi just threw Kiba a withering glare, the male wisely deciding he had pushed his luck for the day. She waited a couple more minutes for the stew to finish cooking, then, after a quick spell extinguished the fire, she retreated inside her cave.

Aggressive white neon lighting and the sound of the water pump accompanied her as she set down beside her cot with her pot of meat between her paws. A mirror hanging on the wall across from her sent her back an image she would have thought completely ludicrous in another life:

Here she was, a slightly smaller than average lioness with an expressiveness to make Disney’s lions envious, bright yellow eyes, a lush red mane draped over her neck like a shawl, its tone matching the reddish hue of her belly fur; and of course the wings that denoted her status as a sphinx. Behind her, her tail lashed from side to side as a sign of her state of mind, its red tassel brushing against the furniture with a swish every so often.

Of course she didn’t go around in the nude either. She couldn’t exactly dress like a human anymore, but she still had her dignity. A photographer’s vest adorned her chest, its pouches filled with most of the stuff she’d need on errands out in the savanna like darts for her air gun and a water canteen, while not being so restrictive that she couldn’t fly with it. Its make was… shabby. Naomi was no seamstress.

To go with that, she had a pair of binoculars hanging from her neck, some khaki shorts with a hole for her tail, and a hat with the star of the Dallas Cowboys right in the middle. A gift from her father before she left for Tanzania.

“Look at you girl...” She chuckled, already digging into her zebra stew. “… park ranger of the apocalypse or some shit? Beats being a pony I guess.”

She would have spent the afternoon berating herself some more and documenting how the newly-born cubs were showing signs of more expressive facial features than their parents before a blood-curdling scream interrupted her work not two hours after her meal.

A scream that didn’t sound anything like what a lion or the local fauna could make.

In a beat of her wings and the clatter of spilled office supplies, Naomi was out of the cave and up in the air, to see…

A tiny zebra… no, not a zebra, a zebrican… He was wearing what from afar looked like the olive green set of uniform Tanzanian park rangers wore on duty, and the old AKM on a sling across his back seemed to point towards the same thing.

Except he couldn’t really use it. Not given how he seemed to have just reappeared and struggled to stand on his four hooves in his oversized uniform. By the looks of it, he had just emerged from the smoking wreckage of a Jeep that had fallen into a ditch, cracking the dry crust above the mucky soil.

But he wouldn’t get to experience his new form for long. Already some of the lionesses had noticed the foolish prey venturing close to their den, they were circling. And he had noticed, hence the scream.

But that voice… she vaguely recalled…

Naomi’s eyes widened. Her wings angled in a dive.

“Hang tight Adé I’m coming!”

Author's Notes:

I only now realize ponies have the convenience of the Cutie Marks as an excuse to stare at a mare's rump. Never crossed my mind before, felt like that was worth writing down. The stuff insomnia makes you think of I swear...

Anyway, with medics... come to think of it, are veterinarians really that bad of an idea to treat returnees? Regular doctors only ever trained on humans, but maybe vets would be better suited to treat all these new species? Just a stray thought.

Plus you can't exactly be picky after the Apocalypse. I mean... Vadim acts as a doctor for Amandine and there's a world of difference between the medical certifications a 3/O gets and an actual medical license. It's... sort of an odd lapse in legality that goes off the assumption you're not always in range of an actual doctor.

Extra note: Hot damn, took me as much time finding a title for that chapter as I needed to edit it in the first place, and it's still kinda shit.