The alien sun stood high in the sky, bright and strong. Guy Vara assumed that it must have been around midday local time. His biological clock must've been slow, seeing as he felt like he had awoken not too long; cold sleep did have a tendency of doing that.

Guy had been on Krig 7B for a good three hours helping setting up camp Challenger in the wetland. By then three main structures had been set up, each with their own decontamination chambers. Had this been a few centuries back such a feat would have been impossible to be done in such a short time and with so few people. A barracks, science lab and main mess hall had been the first erected. Living quarters would be up later during the day and hopefully, by the following 24 hours, the first colonial housing. It was not the intention of the top brass to make this the first colonial town, but they needed to get the specialized colonists on the ground to help establish some of the more essential structures: a proper landing zone for future landings, a communication station to remain in constant contact with the colony ship, and above all, to clear the outlying woods to allow for expansion.

It saddened Guy that among the first thing that they would do was cut down trees. But he realized that it was a necessary sacrifice.

As of the last few minutes he had been patrolling the perimeter of the camp with two other infantry. There had been nothing to indicate that the local wildlife was hostile to the human incursion, but the scientists at Challenger had insisted on no alien life to enter the camp. Why exactly he didn't know. Those eggheads in their less-than discreet blue hazmat suits had been cooked up in the lab testing everything: the soil, the air, some of the plants... the list was ridiculously long.

In the woods beyond Guy heard the fluttering of startled birds. Or at least something that sounded like birds; the gas mask he wore was not exactly conducive to his hearing ability and it did not help him see any better. His field of view was very limited (he couldn't even see his own nose for Christ's sake!) and the tinted lenses darkened what he could see. Of all of the military equipment which was standard of the regular marine, he disliked the CBRN suit the most, regardless of the protections it provided him with. Not that there was much to need protection for anyways! No radiation had been detected and the chemicals found in the air and terrain were all innocuous. While everyone still waited on the results on the biohazard tests, Guy was hard-pressed in believing that there was anything that could've constituted as biohazard. He'd be willing to take off the damn mask if it weren't for the strict command ordering the exact opposite. Just one of the many perks of life in the Marine Corps...

"Goddamn," the soldier besides him exclaimed with his voice muffled by the air filters of his mask, turning with his rifle drawn towards the bird's direction, "it feels like I'm in one of them ol' documentaries about swamps of the Mississippi, with alligators ready tah jump me."

He was Clinton Reifstack, a good friend of Guy. He was of Texan origin as his drawl proved. 32 years-old, he was just three years older than Guy. He always had a tired look on his face; the bags underneath his eyes and the crows feet earned him the nickname of 'Old Sleepy' amongst his friends, which he detested with so much passion that the alias was mostly used when he was not around to hear it. He kept his dirty blond hair short but refused to shave off his mustache. He was quite a sight to behold; it was just too bad that the mask made everything about him but the voice anonymous.

"Look out Clint," the other infantryman said, mockery filling his tone, "those alien lizards are gonna get ya if you don't watch out!"

This was Neil Burbidge, but everyone in the company called him Joker for an obvious reason. Unlike Clinton, Neil took his namesake with pride and lived up to it continually, either by spouting jokes and puns or by pulling pranks on various members of the company. It had gotten him into trouble with the captain more than once, but even the captain couldn't bring himself to punish Neil too severely, limiting himself with extra chores or exercises. Neil was always good humored, to the point where he wore a smile nearly at all times. His cheery smiles went well with that smallish head of his. He had puffy cheeks which reminded Guy of a young child, and his dimples made him appear all the more younger. He sported jet black hair combed back and kept it slick. Neil was from the subterranean city of Goodhope in what used to be Kansas, and it was plausible that growing up underground with nothing to entertain him he had developed that characteristic prankster personality of his.

Both he and Guy chuckled as Clinton reacted as if he had just been affronted. "Y'all like that wouldn't ya?" he said in a smug tone, "gettin' rid of me ain't gonna be that easy, Ah'm too tough fer them aliens."

"Too tough to be chewed properly," Neil whispered to Guy, both of whom stifled a snort.

"What did ya say Joker?"

Neil answered back with a cheeky smirk, "Nothin' that concerns you, Old Sleepy."

Clinton snapped. In a split second he did a U-turn and sucker punched Neil in the face, sending the smaller man on the ground. Out of reflex from hearing Neil cry out in pain, Guy grabbed Clinton and kept him from doing any further harm. "Lemme go Guy!" he huffed, "I'm not gonna hit him anymore!"

"Not taking that chance pal." Clinton had a bit of a nasty reputation of never having and finishing a dispute with just a single punch. Guy knew that he was more than likely not finished with Neil.

"Oh no," Neil uttered with a startle, his voice wavering, "oh no, oh no, Clinton what did you do?"

Guy and Clinton looked at their downed comrade and saw that he was covering his face: Clinton's punch had somehow made Neil's mask slide off and now hung loose from his face, revealing his terrified expression. He was exposed.

"Ah fuck!" Guy exclaimed. He let go of the Texan and squatted down by Neil to survey the damage. Neil fumbled with his gas mask, too startled and scared to get it back on properly; he was shooting off worried cries and began to hyperventilate. What was happening to him?

Clinton stood above them, aghast at what he had done. "Ah-I..." he was at a loss for words.

"Calm down Joker," Guy attempted to say, despite Neil's anxious ramblings, "just calm down and let me help you get your mask on." With some effort he had managed to strap it back on Neil's face, even with Neil squirming and flailing about. He began to lift him up when he heard Clinton stutter. "Ah d-didn't mean to…"

Guy, infuriated at the Texan's inaction, yelled at him. "Don't just stand there fucking about! Grab his rifle and help me get him to a doctor!"

Clinton paused; he was still shocked at the consequence of his actions, but soon snapped out the trance and after grabbing the dropped weapon he lifted Neil to his feet with Guy's help. They passed by other patrolling marines, gaining a mix of confused, curious and worried stares from them. They brought the panicking soldier quickly to the lab, and after going through the decontamination chamber they burst into the rudimentary medical bay. A lone doctor stood inside and was startled by their dramatic entrance.

Seeing that Neil was being supported by the other two soldiers the doctor asked them, "What happened to him?"

They set him on the examination table before Guy replied. "His mask got loose."

Both Clinton and he stripped Neil's mask off and let the doctor to examine him. Neil's face was both sweating and trembling, his eyes were bloodshot from crying and his breathing was still rapid and shallow. Opening the CBRN suit to reveal Neil's chest the doctor began to ask him a series of questions:

"Do you feel faint or nauseous?"

"Ah-a bit…" Neil said half-heartedly.

"Any chest pain?"

"It-it feels uncomfortable," he responded with a sniffle.

The doctor strapped a device on Neil's chest and began to monitor his heart rate. "He's got an elevated heart beat," he stated to nobody in particular.

Neil crying suddenly intensified. "I am dying!" he cried out in fear, sobbing heavily all the while.

"When did he lose the mask?" the doctor asked Vara.

"About ten minutes back," he answered, terrified by the cries of his friend on the table, "but it was off for just a few seconds!"

"How did he lose it?"

"Ah punched it off accidentally," Clinton replied for Guy. "What's wrong with him?"

The doctor didn't oblige him with an answer and instead went to a medical cabinet. He picked out a syringe and after removing the seal he injected the fluid into Neil. He soon began to relax. The two soldiers were confused as to what the doctor had done, but they were extremely thankful.

"I'll keep him in under observation for a few hours, but I believe that your friend has suffered a panic attack."

The two soldiers' reaction was a mix of surprise and of immense relief. It seemed as if it had been something much worse.

"How can you be sure doc?" Guy asked the medical professional, "I mean, it could still be something biological from out there."

He gave a smug before responding. "We've got word back from the lab about the biohazard tests: all negative. I have to admit that I was worried that the results were wrong when I saw him, but the symptoms which your friend displayed were telltale sign of a panic attack.

"Clearly, when you," he pointed to Clinton, "punched him his body began the flight-or-flight reaction which put his mind in a vulnerable state. When he realized that he could've breathed his last, he went into shock, causing the panic attack."

Clinton walked over to Neil, who had dozed off, shaking his head in disbelief. "Dammit Joker," he muttered, "don't scare yer friends like that."

Guy had half-a-mind to tell Clinton off but decided that they all have had enough excitement for one day and relished in the fact that the company's prankster was going to live.

Spike awoke with a startle from a sudden crash. The baby dragon, with the skills conditioned by years of being Twilight's personal assistant, sprang out of his bed and made for the source of the noise which was... upstairs! He flew up the steps and came barreling into the library and was surprised to see two ponies: the first was the all-familiar Twilight, the second was...

He widened his eyes in amazement and quickly bowed. "Princess Luna!" he exclaimed, "I didn't realize you were here."

The two ponies seemed to have been surprised by the dragon's sudden entrance; tomes of all shapes and sizes were laid scattered about the library floor (whatta mess! Spike thought to himself), indicative that the two of them had been studying hard.

"Spike?" Twilight asked with a yawn, "what are you doin' up at this hour?"

They stayed up the whole night long? "Uh... Twi? It's already daytime." He opened the curtains to let the sun's rays bask the dark room. The two ponies winced at the abrupt burst of light. "In fact," the dragon added after looking at wall clock, "It's nearly midday."

It was only then that he saw how exhausted the two ponies were: their eyes were reddened with the lack of sleep, their manes were a mess and they seemed to be barely up on their hooves. Princess Luna blinked wearily, her eye lids droopy and heavy. "How did we not even notice that we spent so much time?"

Spike crossed his arms. "Studying I take it," he pointed out, "both of you ought to get some rest now."

Twilight yawned again. "But it's imperative that we must continue-"

"He's right Twilight," Luna chimed in, "we're in no shape to continue. We'll meet again later this evening." Before Twilight could object, Luna disappeared in a flash of light with a distinctive pop. Spike began to place the discarded books and volumes back on the bookshelves with a comforting smile on his face.

"Don't worry Twi," he grunted as he lifted a pile of tomes, "I'll put everything back as it was while you take a nap. And I'll have something ready for you when you're fully rested."

She was about to retort but gave out a yawn instead. Eventually she gave in and made for her bed downstairs. Spike felt bad for having scolded Twilight for not having taken a break; granted that studying wasn't a bad habit to have, but sometimes she could be obsessive with it to a fault. And just what was it that she and Princess Luna were so mesmerized by that they forgot about the time? The books he collected had various subjects of astronomy and philosophy. What did these two fields of knowledge have which they possibly shared with one and the other? He couldn't come up with an adequate response to his own query. He opted for finishing up clearing the clutter in the library.

Spike finished cleaning up within moments and decided to get some food done for his sleeping friend. He got out some flakes of hay and fodder and made a few sandwiches with it, leaving them on a plate on the dining table. A low grumble from his stomach compelled Spike to poach for some gems from his stash. He grabbed some opals from the cabinet with the precious gemstones and ate three stones in one go. Spike wasn't exactly one for table manners, so he figured that since he was snacking alone it didn't matter. He had a few sapphires, emeralds and bloodstones before finishing with a cat's-eye, his hunger now fully satisfied.

He was cleaning up after himself when somepony knocked at the door. "Twilight!" a familiar voice rang out, "I know that you're in there!" Spike hurriedly made for the door and opened to find Pinkie Pie.

"Oh hi Spike," she squealed with glee, "is Twilight home? 'Cause I gotta talk with her and tell her something that she'd want to hear about, and I bet that if she figures out what I had to say later she'll be all upset with me for not having told her earlier and then everyone will be sad an-"

"No!" Spike blurted out without warning, interrupting Pinkie's long-winded ramble. He brought his voice down to a whisper, "I mean yes, but she's really, really tired right now and needs to sleep."

She let out a gasp and frowned. "Is she sick?" she asked, her tone far more muted and her words were loaded with genuine concern.

He shook his head. "Nah, she just spent the whole night studying." Then Spike thought up of a suggestion: "Say Pinkie, how about if you tell me what you wanted to tell Twilight, and I'll tell her when she feels better?"

Pinkie's face lit up and she began hopping in place. "That's a great idea Spike!"

She continued prancing excitedly about and around the little dragon, giggling at the thought of telling him. Spike was getting slightly impatient though. "Well? Are you gonna tell me or not?"

"Zecora's holding a party at Ponyville's square soon!" Pinkie beamed, and before he could say anything else she trotted off, skipping all the way.

Spike cocked his eyebrow curiously: usually Zecora kept to herself whenever she visited the town. To say that throwing a party in the middle of town for no reason was out of character for her was an understatement. A more likely scenario was that she probably had something to say to the ponies of the town through a meeting or something. He was done with the day's chores and Twilight was gonna sleep for a while still.

Spike decided to see what Zecora was up to.

Rarity was returning from her trusted cloth merchant with a cart full of fabrics and other cloth materials. She had received a personal order from Hoity Toity for twenty-three new outfits which were to be showcased in the upcoming Canterlot's fashion show within next week. After a morning of brainstorming, Rarity had a very definite idea of what she was going for and what she would need. A shopping trip later and there she was.

Fantasizing on her outfit designs, Rarity stumbled into a large crowd of ponies gathered quite by accident. It seemed to have been an unusual gathering, and as far as Rarity was concerned, there was no holiday or event that had been scheduled for today. Perhaps there was an impromptu town meeting by Mayor?

With curiosity peaking within her, she decided to take a look and see what the fuss was about, her outfits could wait.

Among the other ponies, Rarity found Applejack, Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy together. "Hey girls!"

Pinkie Pie, her face full of delight, greeted her first. "Hey Rarity! Glad you made it to the party!"

Rarity blinked. "Party?"

"Nah, this ain't no party," Applejack replied, "Pinkie's been gatherin' everypony in Ponyville tah git here, seems like somepony's here tah meet with all of us."

"Yeah!" Pinkie cut in excitedly, "Zecora's come over to town!"

"Zecora?" Rarity asked, now even more bemused than earlier.

Applejack nodded, "Yup, seems like it. Say, have ya seen Dash today? Pinkie Pie's been lookin' all over fer her, and none of us have seen her."

"No I haven't," she answered with a shrug of her haunches, "I've been busy working on some new dress designs." After a quick look around, she asked them, "Where's Twilight?"

With her usual quiet voice, Fluttershy responded, "She's sleeping. Spike told Pinkie Pie that she's been up all night studying."

Applejack shook her head in disappointment. "That girl oughta stop studyin' so darn much. All-nighters ain't good for nopony."

Before anyone of them could continue, a deep voice rang out, silencing the group of friends and the crowd of ponies.

"Lend me your ears Ponyville!" it called to them, earning a collective gasp as they saw Zecora on a stand, her expression grave, "something comes this way, something evil."

The mass of ponies gave out another shared exclamation. "They came in a machine, where from I have no inkling," she continued, "but whatever created it is surely no weakling!

"Believe you me, massive unlike anything else is its size;
The beings even stranger, their intentions unknown to even the wise.

"You must heed those from Everfree!
The animals, all they do is cry and flee!

"Mind the forest, they have planted themselves there;
Keep away, for if you meet one will you have a tale to tell your heir?

"'Beware, beware,' says this mare.
Stay out, away from the nightmare."

And with that she left the stand, casting aside the herd of ponies. They all stood in place, aghast at the appearance of the elusive zebra and of her grim rhymes. Not a single one of them knew how to react to the grisly news from the resident of Everfree Forest. The Bearers of Elements too were at a loss for words or for an adequate response. Silence ruled the square, none of the ponies able to do anything other than to share shocked looks with others.

"Excuse me, pardon, coming through," a small voice said. From the crowd came Spike, eager to see what the excitement had been about. When he saw nothing he frowned.

"Did I miss it?"

Now that you have gone away,
I feel so cold, why did I stay?
Remember, I'll remember your face so pale,
When you left me on that gloomy day…

The song stopped. Angus had paused the stereo player: he couldn't listen to it anymore. He lay on his bed in his personal quarters feeling nostalgic of the life he had left behind: his country, his city, his home, his friends, his family... his wife… None of whom were likely to have survived after all those years he had spent traveling.

He let out a long sigh; he sacrificed much for a fool's hope, and even then he wasn't sure that it had been worth it. The logical side in him told him that it was still too early to judge the success (or failure) of the mission. Still, too many things had gone wrong; the explosions, sentient life forms... He wished that he was the better man but ultimately he too was only human. Such stress from trying to lead nearly half a million people into an unknown planet and being responsible for them was simply too much for him. Addens practiced Yoga and exercised regularly and strived for a healthy lifestyle, anything to keep his mind and consciousness at peace. Yet nothing worked for long.

There was always the more artificial alternative to clear his mind, but Addens had sworn long ago to never return to the path of drugs. It had nearly ruined his career were it not for the immense support provided by those close to him. Had it not been for them…

I'd probably be dead before even coming close of reaching 50, he thought glumly to himself.

The prospect that those same people who had helped him so much were now dead and thus unable to see his accomplishments (none of which would have been possible for their intervention) tore him apart. He was depressed in every sense of the word. Some of those who had helped him were far closer than he wanted to admit to others and to himself.

Angus unconsciously played with his wedding ring. It was nothing ornate: just a plain gold ring, easily the oldest and simplest of ring designs. He rubbed it, feeling the now-faded inscriptions Regards, Janine. It brought the memories of a past life into his mind, a happy one. He would give anything, even his own rank to go back to relive those days again. He had no regrets about living with her except for one thing: having lived with her for such a short amount of time.

The commodore kept moping on his bed reminiscing on simpler times for what seemed like hours. A chime from his PC grabbed his attention. He went over to take a look and saw that the Chief of Security – a certain Fosse – wished to contact him. He sat down on his padded couch and took the call. A video of a uniformed officer appeared on his screen. The man saluted.

"Good afternoon, Commodore. I hope that I am not disturbing you."

Angus returned the salute. "Not at all mister Fosse. What did you call me for?"

"One of the colonists on the ship was caught with a large stash of illegal narcotics sir," he replied, "the smuggler has been put under arrest and the narcotics have been seized. As per protocol I have-"

"…sent them to me for deciding how to deal with them," the commodore finished for the security officer, "I gather that you just wanted to give me forewarning about the delivery, correct?"

The officer nodded. "Yessir. That's all I wanted to share."

"Very well, I'll take a look and send you my decision when I'm done. Until then, good afternoon mister Fosse."

Fosse gave one more salute before the image feed closed and the call ended.

Angus slouched on his couch, visibly irritated. He could've done without having to deal with a stash of drugs. Protocol dictated that any illegal drugs seized from suspects would be sent for the commanding officer, deemed the most responsible, for him to determine whether they could be used as supplemental medical supplies or had to be disposed of completely. As a commodore he was required to be able to distinguish such drugs and to deal with said decision. It would otherwise have been a decision to be made by medical staff. If only there were the many allegedly 'potent' drugs which were controversial for medical use: some doctors would welcome a powerful anesthetic while others would condemn its use, deeming it too dangerous. Thus it had been decided that the commanding officer would have the final say on the matter. He would have to take into consideration the good the drugs seized would do as well as the damage if abused as well as the amount: larger stashes were more prone for abuse than smaller ones.

Addens both respected and hated the fact that he was considered as the most rational and neutral out of the entire crew for such a decision. He definitely wasn't the best choice from his point of view, what with his troubled history with drugs. Unfortunately for him protocol did not make any exceptions to this rule. As such he waited for the package.

Within minutes his door bell called for attention; it had arrived. He went over to open the door and was greeted by a young security officer holding a parcel in his arms. "Afternoon Commodore."

Angus greeted back. "Good afternoon mister…?"

"H-Herrold sir," the officer answered with a slight stutter, "Officer Dave Herrold."

"Very well then, mister Herrold; do come in."

The young officer did so and presented the parcel to him. "I have been ordered to show you this, sir: the stash of drugs confiscated from the smuggler."

Angus took the parcel and realized that it was filled with some kind of glass containers when the contents in it shook and jingled. Curious, he laid it on his desk and opened it. At least two dozens of glass vials with an attached inhaler and blue fluid stared back at him. The glass containers must've contained no more than five milliliters of the liquid, but he immediately recognized the potency of the drug and just what it was.

"Triptocaine…" he muttered in astonishment. The officer behind him seemed as amazed as Angus was if not more.

Triptocaine was a very powerful military-grade liquid narcotic designed to ease pain for soldiers in combat situations. It was a closely controlled drug which had at times found itself in the black market when its use as a recreational drug was discovered by some soldiers looking for a joint or a quick buck. Overdosing on triptocaine had been proven fatal nearly on a one-to-one case and its addiction came from the painful withdrawal symptoms: Epistaxis, involuntary twitching in the limbs, temporary weakening of vision, mild impairment of hand-eye coordination, hallucinations, and temporary weakening of muscle functions. The only sure-fire way to stop the attacks is to either wait it out and endure the pain, or to take the drug. With such a choice, nearly every triptocaine user decided to take the easy way out and consumed more of the narcotic, which more often than not led to an eventual overdose.

Unable to help himself, Herrold blew a low whistle. "How the hell did he manage to smuggle so much of this stuff on board?"

That was a good question, but irrelevant to the decision that Angus now had to make. Triptocaine had proven its use various times before as a legitimate painkiller, but there was always the risk of someone taking advantage and abuse the sedative. Not a huge decision as some he had done as commodore but not any less significant.

"We'll keep it," he told the officer, his mind made up, "I'll personally take the triptocaine to the medical bay."

The security officer gave one last salute and left the commodore alone to ponder on the gravity of what he had just decided, suddenly regretting his judgment:

What did I just do?

AN: This chapter was a PAIN to write, in particular the middle part when everypony gathered to see Zecora. While Zecora's own speech was challenging in itself, what happens just prior and after was hell for me to write. I felt like I rushed it, it looks rushed, and overall I am not happy with how that was written. Everything else is fine for me: got to introduce some new human characters and develop a certain someone.

Keep reviewing people! My will to keep this going feeds on user reviews.

TheArchive: Magic will help bring down the language barrier yes, but it won't be 'oh I got an insta-translator spell which will work on everyone at any given time': what I've got in mind is a tad more complicated than that.

Major Simi: Thanks, the idea of humans colonizing an alien planet but finding it populated had been on my mind for a while and once I saw MLP I finally got down to write it. Personally though, there are some areas in my writing and story on which I could improve on but thanks for the vote of confidence!

Can you spot the references in this chapters? There are two main references: one is to an upcoming movie and the other of a game...