Entry number three for the drabbles file involves the "nice" Geth running into the Equestrians, or vice versa. So we have pony-shaped Geth running around and being all up in Harmony etc to their mutual benefit. Then some idiot Batarians break Citadel and Equestrian law...

"Relay 314," the Turian admiral declared in a tone of formal boredom, "and as usual, nothing to report." He only just refrained from using more colourful language.

This duty was one of the more boring he could imagine, and what was worse, he and the rest of his crew knew damn well that boredom was the way to go. Far better than arriving to find the Rachni, or maybe even something worse, already in-system and waiting for them.

"Admiral?"

He looked at the ensign in question. "What is it?"

"Sir, Relay 314 was active for outgoing traffic about seven standard days ago."

Ice formed in his stomach. Some… idiots… had activated a dormant relay and headed through it! Wild fancies of angry Rachni chasing them back, or massing at the far end of the connection, began to run through his mind, and those of the crew as well. The last thing anyone in the Citadel Council wanted was another Rachni war.

"Noted," he managed to say at last, "Comms, send a message to Central about staging a picket here, we need to catch these bastards if they come back."

"Yessir."

"Incoming Relay activation!"

The Admiral didn't flinch. "Sound red alert. Commandoes to prep for boarding. Weapons, arm MACs and missiles – if they're ours, we might need to cripple them, otherwise…"

He trailed off. Not far away, barely two hundred million kilometres off, Relay 314 began to spin up, its dark matter core pulsing from blue-white to ultraviolet.

Whips of light seized vessels, bringing them from hundreds of c to sublight speeds, effectively a screeching halt. The Turian fleet watched for a moment, stunned.

Half the incoming fleet was clearly Batarian in design, and in a condition best described as "lightly mauled". Hulls sported holes that looked melted; gases and fluids bled out into space. Several ships were barely maneuverable, and it wasn't hard to see why.

Right behind them came eight monstrous dreadnoughts, which on arrival immediately spewed out a dozens of smaller craft, all of which recommenced their assault on the Batarians. The design was alien; not quite Geth, which they resembled, but more like Geth mixed with something else. If it wasn't for their IFF codes, they would almost be…

"IFFs? What the fuck?" One of the ensigns manning the comms consoles stared. "They're standard format… EQM-116 Crushing Impact of Ten Thousand Tons, EQM-134 Death Grind Splatter Piss Shit?" His voice rose in incredulity. "EQF-356 Mess With Me You Mess With The Whole Herd…"

"Herd eh?" the Admiral hummed thoughtfully. The ships had probably been named that way for very good reasons – good for them anyway. The show of force outside, however, suggested it could bode ill for him and his fleet if he went to the Batarian's defence…

"Comms, open a general channel," he said at last, waited for the cue. "Batarian fleet, this is Admiral Kratus of the Turian Navy. You are ordered to shut down your engines and stand by to be boarded. Any resistance will be dealt with as per Citadel Council law.

"Alien vessels," he continued, "You are now in Citadel Council space. Cease your attack and hold position, we'll take it from here. If you understand me, respond this channel."

The response was not long in coming. "Response from the EQF-356," Comms observed, before a hologram resolved itself.

The alien was small, Kratus noted, but its expression was one of steely resolve underneath what was probably a ceremonial helmet. What looked like a horn spiked out of its forehead above two ridiculously large, unmistakably angry eyes. It stood on four limbs and seemed to lack manipulatory appendages. A tail, apparently composed of long hair, lashed about behind it in a way that looked irritated.

"I'm General Long Pike of the Equestrian Navy," the creature spoke in what Kratus suspected was a male voice – a voice speaking an odd dialect of Quarian. "Those Batarian buckheads invaded our colony on –" whatever the two words were, they were untranslatable – "and captured about a hundred of our herd. We're in pursuit while the rest of the fleet clean up the planet. The Princesses' orders are to retrieve our herdmates by any means necessary." The creature thought for a moment. "Admiral, could you give us a hoof and stop those ships?"

Kratus also thought. "What's the status of the Batarians?"

"They're not stopping sir. No response."

"Guns, disable the slaver fleet. Tell the commandoes they're go for boarding ops, targets are bridge, engineering and the cargo bays. Advise that, ah, Equestrian boarding parties will be operating in… General?"

"The cargo bays and crew quarters," Long Pike said.

"Cargo bays and crew quarters. Batarian fleet, you will stop immediately, shut down weapons and await boarders."

"Batarian ships are targeting us!"

"Which means they're not targeting them," Kratus grinned nastily at Long Pike's hologram. "General?"

"With pleasure, Admiral," the Equestrian smirked back, then spoke to someone out of visual. "Gunnies, hobble 'em."

Subsequently, Admiral Kratus felt fear. These Equestrians had directed energy weapons.

The evidence was quite flashy. Brief lines of colourful light, red, green, purple, pink, and brown, stretched from Equestrian to Batarian vessels. Where they touched, engines died and weapons exploded.

Then Iron Pike spoke again, and Kratus nearly shit himself.

"Okay Geth, nail their hooves to the floor."

"Righto," the voice was unmistakably Geth, but the word choice wasn't. "There's a comm signal coming from one, so… bucking firewalls… oh no you don't you little… we're in! Turning all the consoles off, that'll show 'em… Now to get the other guys…"

"Sorry about that," Long Pike looked resigned, "When Vertical File gets focussed he forgets to turn his mouth off. Anyway our boarding parties are launched, watch out for homicidal ponies."

"Ponies?" Kratus filed that snippet of information away. "Right. Tactical, tell the commandos that any small quadrupeds are friendlies. Spirits know we want this First Contact to go smoothly. ECW, check our security, if these, uh, people have Geth on their side we need to be cautious."

"First Contact?" Long Pike straightened up and his ears, Kratus noticed, perked up as well. "It's not the first time we've encountered aliens, obviously, but it is for the Citadel. Geth Lieutenant Dropbox!"

"What?" Another hologram sprang into existence. The machine shown was definitely a Geth platform, if Geth did themselves up as ponies. Its posture suggested annoyance. "General, we're trying to spot for Vertical File here."

"Somepony else can do that. You're point for the First Contact package, so ask nicely for access to the Turian computer systems, and the Evernet news channels."

"Yessir," the machine entity didn't sound happy. "Okay, we have a package about the Equestrian Unity, and obviously we've been asked to catch up on current events in Citadel space for the past few decades, so, uh…" The machine actually lifted an artificial hoof to scratch its head, as if thinking. "Permission to come aboard, I guess?"

"ECW?"

"DMZ is set up already," that Turian's features were set grimly. "Comms, send the Geth this protocol suite. Any deviation will result in setting off countermeasures."

Aboard the Mess With Me You Mess With The Entire Herd, Dropbox gulped, despite not needing to, did a backup, shut down their platform and connected to the Turian ship.

The long seconds it took to copy over the package, and download the news from Citadel space, were begrudged by Dropbox, every single one. Every cycle of processing was watched suspiciously by the Turian ship; worse than that, they could feel a malign anticipation, waiting for a slipup, an excuse to attack.

Mission accomplished, Dropbox cut the connection with alacrity, woke up their platform and shuddered. "That was horrible."

Yeah? Dropbox, you know we're here. Frame Relay were watching, so were Halt And Catch Fire, and so were FISH Queue.

Wow, really? Thanks guys. Still wouldn't do that again. What's happening with the boarding?

"Contact in three minutes!"

For the umpteenth time, Arterius Desolas checked his equipment. So did the other commandoes on the shuttle. When you're about to board a vessel full of people who do not want to speak to the authorities, being sure that your equipment is up to spec is somewhat vital.

"And we have these Equals-whatsits running around on board too," someone groused, "Fucking great. More chances for friendly fire."

"Shut it," Desolas told him, "Now, once more: our target is the bridge, capture if possible. Their systems have been taken over by a Geth called Vertical File, but this one's friendly, if you can believe it. So all we have to worry about is…"

"All commando units," Kratus' voice came over the comms, "Situation update. According to, ah, Vertical File, all crew members are forcing their way to the cargo bays. There are about four hundred slaves on board, and from what he's picked up they intend to slaughter them all before they can be rescued."

Several soldiers swore, and Desolas didn't censure them.

"Equestrian boarding parties are already here," Kratus went on, "Be warned that they're, ah, working on this basis: Four legs good, two legs bad. Call is 'Twilight', response is 'Sparkle'. Might save your lives."

Desolas didn't blame them. One more check of his weapons, and five second later the ready lights went green and the doors opened and out his team sprang.

"Funny," one remarked, "no sign of any other boarding craft."

"Zip it," Desolas snapped, "Waypoint set. Destination the bridge, we'll seize control of the vessel, close off the cargo bays. I'd bet my right nut that the captain's log is stand-alone, and we want that."

His team did all the right things. They leapfrogged each other through doors and bulkheads as they advanced on the bridge - there was no way the leaders would be joining in the slaughter.

"Twilight," said a Geth voice in Desolas' helmet.

"S-Sparkle," Desolas stuttered.

"Vertical File here. It looks like a large group of these buckers is breaking off and heading your way. We can't be more definite as they're destroying network switches - we're being blinded. Estimate loud contact in... wait one."

"Heads up," Desolas relayed what he'd been told.

"Vertical File again. We've been told reinforcements are inbound. Things in the cargo bay are grim. Brace for arrival now."

Several polychrome flares and pops heralded the arrival of several small quadrupeds, four behind Desolas' squad, three in front, and two directly in the middle.

Subsequently, the Citadel found themselves confronted by the existence of magical sentient equines - equines unwilling to kill their Geth friends.

And who may or may not know about the Reaper threat. (Not that it matters, the Geth told 'em, and Everyone™ in Citadel space knows that you can't trust AI.)

Eventually, hijinks ensue, most likely involving the firepower of vessels named after Gorebastard tracks (see Newgrounds).