/mlpol/ - My Little Politics

>>371126
"There will ever be some whom are unfortunate to accept a fact of life, and those whom act irrationally. Those are the ones that must be watched carefully and 'treated' a bit faster than the rest."
>Pupils rapid flicking at the pistol multiple times, Nova allows herself a short giggle.
"Indeed. She will marenage how she always does: drag her opponents up a mountain and roll them off when they're tired. Then grant them the best possible treatmarents."

"They are indeed biologically fascinating in several mareners.. which reminds me. There have been reports of substantially more dangerous and physically larger Nickel, Silver, Gold, or Platinum Predatory-Elk encroaching into the native Copper Pred-Elk ranges and wiping them out.
The Minotaur Hegemony's marshlands and low forests specifically, though some have been noted throughout the eastern Moors regions and Ferron claimed lands as well."
>Hoof off the stasis, the Ward frowns at small tics in the static field surrounding her horn.
"Ten minutes was ever the maximum, though she could immediately resummon it for twenty, thirty hours straight. It should not be functional now, which is quite concerning. ..there is a signature which I am unfamiliar with."

>Performing indepth, layer-by-layer analysis from bruised hide, fat, soft tissues, muscle, down to bone, then into the brain, the worst indications Dr. Carlos expected were still visible:
>Non-vital tissues remained damaged while crushed neural pathways and collapsed arteries had been, mostly, restored.
>Post-set skull fractures around the horn would heal, albeit slowly, but the unusual copper composition would take significant time to regrow, if it could.
>Small arteries throughout the skull cavity and frontal lobes were less affected, these Pred-Elk biologically more robust than their wild kin, two tiny bleeds had been halted, unlikely to pose a threat.
>Examining the orbital socket, multiple severe fractures had occurred then partially set, the injuries more complicated and would require significant care to fully recover from.
>The eye itself suffered from compression shock, partially restored but would need to be closely monitored.

>>371129
>Turning around on bed to study the roof quickly, Nova's eyes glance downwards, then faces north.
"That is quite unfamiliar to me. It does not sound like the typical Lunar or independent Druid's name either."

>Sleeping soundly on her left side, Snowfall could easily tell Astral thoroughly drained herself, few sparks of lightning traveling across antlers and teeth.
>Her normal pattern of inhales and exhales was rough, though not physically injured.

"I beli-"
>A loud, bizarrely wet and hard thump on the Clinic's north wall interrupts the hybrid, head whipping to stare at the spot the sound occurred, then whispers quietly towards Carlos.
"Doctor, lock the door when I leave. There is a.. not a creature, it is partially sapient. One which I am entirely unfamiliar with, and it is HIGHLY angered."
>Streaking apart in bright crystalline blurs, tinges of lower spectrums darken her exit-
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <E.Assault
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <M.Casting: Voidshear
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <M.Teleport
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
>vs:
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <???
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <???
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9] <???
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <???
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15] <???

>>371791
"Gold and platinum too ey? They should call them Pred-Elkements, instead. Hehehe! Do they come in any non-metallic or conductive variedad?"
>Carlos examines the continued stability of the spell.
"At any rate, it is still operacional. We must use is for a long as posible."

>Blume Gales examination is fascinating, considering the amount of damage he can originate.
>Most, if not all, circulatory and nervous damage had already healed to the point of being very minor.
>The eye's restoration was fifty-fifty, but he's confident whatever this Lin had done would probably put it on the mend.
>He notes mostly the more complex fractures that, while already partially set, were still far from fully healed.
>The nature of the Pred-Elk structural makeup needed copper, no surprise.
>Perhaps an actual copper transplant into the fractures to help fuse bone back together? No, it's not like like putting a plate in. It needs to be a more cohesive homogenization. A high copper diet? He'll have to infer with Nova, when she is no longer on the hunt. Perhaps Snowfall would know.
>Carlos jots down more notes, juggling methods.
>Re-examining Blume Gale again in ten or fifteen minutes to see if there is any noticeable improvement could give him a rough time table on this Lin's recovery... he's not sure what to call it.
>>371129
>Deciding on seeing he was here, it wouldn't hurt to ask.
"Senior Snowfall, a moment of your time, por favor. Do you Pred-Elks ever suffer from copper deficiency? Siento... If you needed more copper in your diet, how would you normally go by doing that?"

>As he continues his note taking, Nova Flicker hones in on the intruder. He HEARD that thump on the North end as well.
>Whispering the game plan to him, he nods as she
"Entendido, Señorita Flicker. Keep it away from Taco Loco, si? Buane suerte, and stay safe. I will hold down the clinica."
>As the hybrid mare teleports out of the clinic, Carlos hurries over to the main door and locks it up tight.
>Heading back over to the care area with the patients, he looks over at Snowfall.
"It is just you an me, Senior Snowfall. Protect the pacientes, if needed, but I am aware how well fortificado this building is. We should be safe."
>Taking this Lin's restoration abilities into consideration for a quick round, Carlos decides to a quick monitor on SnakeBite and Lejura.
"I am going to check on the more injured patients from before you arrived. Please be mindful of the entrada."
>Starting with the human, Carlos checks SnakeBite's vitals, fluid and medicine levels, as well as a quick visual check og his body for any abnormalities. His samples were in his truck, still processing... no they would be done soon. Hopefully he can retrieve them, before they start to deteriorate. Taking any more samples from the already debilitated operators would only hinder his recovery.
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <M.Physician
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <M.Research
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <Teacher: Biology
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <Teacher: Human Physiology
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]

>>371787
>Still for a split-second, 'Shiibo' tosses a large warning sticker across the helmet's interior.
'I did not mean the giant whore-of-a-mare. My intention was to open a dialogue with Katyal as she has demonstrated relevant familiarities, more so than Hodch.
There is a cracked copy of the stated program in archives.. and corresponding unofficial patches.'
>Having packed a few of the best MRE's available from the Armory's stockpiles, you come across one of the more satisfying and hoarded ones.
>At least according to the contents, which had no synthetics or chemicals, also guaranteed to have a 10 year shelf life.
>As you eat, the avatar displays a reading of surrounding electromagnetic fields within the Room, pointing out deviations that mirrored twitching.
>Denoting individuals deliberately orienting in your direction, 'Shiibo' runs through comprehensive simulations before speaking.
'Unfortunate, but the data is excellent. Reactions begin occurring precisely at the apex of each attempt, possibly due to distance or preoccupation.
Probability of particle sentience is minimal at worst, negligible at best. Magical and modified analogues are possible.'

>Squinting as patterns dissipate from his coat, Hodch rocks from side to side in thought.
"Hm. I can indeed confirm that particular Rime Lattice is, rather passively and effectively, removing a constantly regenerating entropy-based effect which I believe is Anti, but I do not know which classification. It is adeptly destroying residual Rift corruption and negating Tallus-based essences which you are unattuned towards, though the-"
>Glancing you up and down three times, he experiences a brief, full body wince.
>But was more likely cringing internally.
"Hyfalgryph.. scales.. are halting further spread, however, not efficiently. I am unable to confirm the presence of a single or multiple Anti Cores, neither can I objectively state the opposite.
At a worst case estimate I would expect approximately twenty to thirty Anti Cores of standard play small marble size. There is a high probability they would not be spherical, a few of the defunct Cores we attempted to retrieve were geometric or featured native styled shapes. Those that Spiral did retrieve were naturally shaped according to their Elemarental property."
>Pausing, the sheer amount of existential questioning between the stallion's smile and speckles in both eyes causes a warning from 'Shiibo' as indicative of murder-through-nonstop-interrogation.
"You know.. there IS someone that should."
>Stepping out quickly through the portal while you finish, Hodch's low, definitely suspicious voice is overridden by Katyal's glee, but quickly stopped by Lonestar shouting angrily.
"Yeah? Yeah, I'll do it! Bitch can't read me, might get a few shots in her face if I'm fast enough."
"NOT INSIDE HERE DAMN IT! SHE AIN'T EVEN BEEN TESTED YET!"
"The fuck dude? I wasn't going to summon her ten ton ass here so chill! I'll do it outside.. where's the buttons at?"
"Left and right of each door. .....the DOWN button, obviously!"
>Sounds of quick acting hydraulics occur, and ten seconds later, muffled shouting.
"EMPRESS SILVER, EMPRESS SILVER, EMPRESS SILVER!
YOUR MANE IS SHAMEFUL, YOUR TEATS ARE SAGGY, AND YOU BELONG IN A PRESCHOOL!"

>Leaning forwards to plant both palms on her digital face, 'Shiibo' only shakes her head.
Why.

>>371791
>Snowfall listened intently as Nova Flicker and Dr.Carlos talked.
>It was one of his many past times after all to simply observe others interact. It was right up there cataloguing every type of snowflake, such fun activities.
>His ears did rise in alarm however at the mention of other Pred-Elk species intruding on his baser siblings.
>He wondered if there was something disrupting their native habitats, making other Metal Antler species migrate towards their smaller cousins.
>"Will need to investigate these encroachments."

>Snowfall shook his head, Lin was anything but typical.
"For the little time I was with her she had the aura of something far greater than anything I have ever witnessed, greater than Oldhorn even."
>It was more powerful than him, but he stood by that he was the more wizened one, which made his snoot wiggle in cheeky delight.
>Observing his sister, the Pred-Elk was content with what he saw and was about to tap his antlers to hers when something hit the Clinic wall from outside.
"Not good."
>Is all he said as he took an alerted stance. Closing his mystic eyes he went ahead and tried to discern -what- was out there.
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] >E.Druidry
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11] >E.Perception
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]

>>371792
>Ear turning to face Carlos, followed by his head to look at the good Doctor while one ear was swivelled at the door.
"Before Oldhorn we would go down to any moving body of water and smell for copper deposits and waterborne nuggets. Much like herbivores would sniff around for roots to eat."
>He thought for a second before adding.
"Or humans panning for gold."
>Stepping away from Astral, Snowfall stood between the doors and the reception desk.
"Now we actively dig out chunks of copper ore from the dirt and rock, grind them down and add them as seasoning for our meals."
>His tail wags slowly.
"Which makes me curious as to why other Metal Antler species are intruding into Copper Pred-Elk territories, since they cannot gain much benefits from eating lesser ores."

>>371792
>Shoving all five brightly marked, interlocking sections of the Clinic's immensely heavy sealed door into position, acoustic Void fractures north are overpowered by intensely shrill, long winded double shrieks.

>Returning to Operating Room #1, Snakebite had moved little.
>Arms and legs spalyed out into more comfortable positions, his head was turned right, eyes underneath the lids moving in slow-to-high, pre-REM twitches.
>Mentally noting the motions and positioning as relatively normal unconscious or subconscious behaviors, the Operator's skin was abjectly different:
>The external creases had solidified, visually thicker now with compact, small ridges pronounced.
>Comparing between the thousands of hours spent in his own practices and on-hand instruction in Canterlot's College of Magic, Snakebite had forcefully taken multiple drastic and extremely high grade Dracosine mutations.
>Checking the young man's pulse, it was marginally lower than normal though steady given the sheer amount of Dampener he'd been doped with.
>Feeling for fluid uptake across the neck, armpits, then stomach, slight subdermal swelling was increasing, though at a a glacial rate, yet had a comfortable temperature accompanied by above average human perspiration.
>The fluid wasn't sticky or acrid, but thicker than normal, it was clear enough to pass for sweat.
>Examining the IV line, it was clearly being considered a foreign object, but most bizarrely Snakebite's skin was tightly wrapped around the needle.
>While Carlos writes down minimal to maximal estimates for recovery, regaining full motion, sensation, and transcribes neural pathway regeneration figures, the Operator's skin changes coloration multiple times, finally settling on burnt bronze-white.
>Pausing to inspect Snakebite once more, a deliberate, slight tap was entirely stopped.
>Trying to poke him results in a near-completely unyielding barrier, acting more like solid steel than biological flesh.
>Odd.. wasn't even close to the proper word.

>>371794
>Easily gazing through evershifting panes of Nature into the native reality of Razorback Fortress, facing north of the Clinic, Snowfall... does not understand.
>Refuses to understand.
>Then tries.
>Far newer than Tallus itself was, the lack of recognizable organs and unrestrained, inorganic movements was worse than the few Abominations his sapient herd of Pred-Elk had survived against.
>The large crest running atop the head down to the being's neck, then from pelvis to tail, should have been aquatic, but would never be submerged in water.
>Hollowed, ichor-leaking sockets for eyes above a pronounced nose, then shearing teeth below, an external, oily structure from forearm to elbow lending extraordinarily powerful strength for false-muscles, seeking to grip and tear what the barely human-like hands could reach,
>Barely covered and exposed ribs ripple above rapid, uninterrupted moving legs, an external structure from the calf muscles to the heel aiding in oily, unpredictable strikes.
>A name surfaces, one older than all of the known Druidic earth pony, Ferron, Minotaur, and unicorn lineages combined, one that Snowfall could not speak aloud.
>Struggling to translate it, the concept was clear: slaughter.
>Neither Planar nor spectrum derived, it was not from Tallus, and could never fit here.
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <Horror
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <Terror

>Snarling between every short, spit out epithet in Kingdom Crystal pony dialect, Nova Flicker dives into successive teleports for one strike each, the Ward's unusually bright, enraged presence barely comparable to the being seeking to crush her.
>Soft, glowing carnelian sheathed by raw Void slams against solid white little-to-nothingness multiple times, the hybrid scarcely able to harm or effect it's movements.
>Returning her hoof impacts with attempted grabs, the being was unaffected by Tallus entropy, yet seemed to sneer amusedly, and derisively, at each touch of Void able to mar it's false-skin-
>Nova Flicker: 2 turns of Critical Enrage remaining
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <Vile Taunt
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11] <E.Assault
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15]
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <M.Casting: Voishear
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <M.Teleport
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
>vs:
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <???
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <???
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <???
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] <???

>>371798
>Staring down at the iron sphere for a lot longer than he would usually have to, it settles into the print of a small cat-sized lizard.
>Jeff picks up Anon's ball, eyes it for any abnormalities, then stows it back on his person.
>Either he's incapacitated, or this place is outside of the gestalt's signal range.
>Every time he heard a creature, so far, nothing sounded large enough to kill him. Smaller critters. Birds or... that sounded like a frog maybe?
>Then again, any real predators wouldn't be revealing themselves so easily. Or quickly.
>Whatever he needs to do he needs to be quick about it.
>Before he starts on his hand, he plucks Luna's feather out of his helmet and takes out his Moon Orb. He mentally calls into both of them simultaneously before storing them on his person.
'Luna, or whoever can hear me, it's Jeff. I've been kidnapped and trapped in an Ancient's reliquary, don't know where or how to get out.... I haven't stopped since the Basin Village was attacked. I'm spent, injured, and in grave danger. Someone, please hear me.'

>Waiting for any response from either, he starts thumbing over the updated medical pouch on top of his pack.
>It had all the latest pieces in it. Luckily, he at least knew how to deal with nettle. Special cocktail of it, aside.
>If he's going to be stuck here for a while, he needs the use of both of his hands.
>Slipping of his left gauntlet, he notices the hairs of the nettle still embedded in his hand. Lesions had formed all over the contact points. They were hyper sensitive, just getting his gauntlet off was a struggle and confirmed the were triggered by movement.

>He takes a dose of the anti-inflammatory and a high-dose pain-killer, sucking them down with water from his pack, and picks out a finer-sized tweezer and a anti-clot pad ready in case he starts to bleed.
>Placing his helmet back on his head he reattaches his combi-goggle to the tilt mount and gets into a more comfortable position.
>Taking his helmet's straps and firmly biting into the nylon and padding, he takes the tweezers and aims the red light at his left hand.
>Until he hears commotion to his left. Far away, but still unsettling. He rotates himself in its direction so he can keep an eye out of his peripheral.
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <E.Stealth
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]
>Now ready, he aims the tweezers at the tips of his fingers. Even if he gets interrupted and has to stop, at least he can get function of his digits.
>Starting on his thumb, and planning on working his way around, he starts to pluck out the nettle hairs. He tries to take his time, as quick as he could.
[1d6-3 = (3-3) = 0] <U. Medical
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <E.Iron Will
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]

>>371793
>He notes the warning sticker with a shrug.
"While that may be true, considering this mess is partly Silver's fault I think it's fitting to attempt to bring her in. She'll know more than Katyal about Anti and our target Ruins. We need to exhaust our best options for information first."

>Nodding at Hodch's analysis, he stows his gear before standing.
"Understood. Thank you."
>He pockets the Rime Orb once more after Hodch sets it down on the pelt.
>Looking over Hodch's devious grin, he leans away from him slightly.
"I'll leave you to that."
>He watches him leave, heralding an ensuing ruckus on the other side of the portal.
>Exhaling and picking up his pack, he focuses his mind again before stepping through the portal back into Lonestar's supposedly revamped carrier.
[1d6 = 3]<Gravitic Coaxing
>Arching the center of his brow in resignation at Shiibo, he remarks.
"Consider it a fair price for Silver to pay if nothing else. I'm certain she'll hate this interaction far more than any of us."

>>371800
>Still damp from constant exposure to Moors air, the Nightmare's feather was cold as usual cold but unlike previous uses had no reaction to your touch.
>Hundreds of rapid hoof taps on stone transmit through the Flawless Moon Orb, indescribable sensations felt in the Lunar Overherd's background as attempted connections pass down the chain of commard.
>That is until an exhausted, mid-50's or early 60's pegasi mare answers, her inflection either a Lunar cloud city, or possibly a Villager.
"Velvet Cloudstrike, Lunar Guard, Watchkeeper in Armistice Vault Two. I don't recognize your.. name, or codename."
>A loud thump occurs as multiple crunches follow, speaking stiffly in severe pain.
"Have you been able to identify the region you're trapped in? And can you locate any visible local structures, possibly landmarks? There's at least.. ..eight hundred to a thousand ancient Lunar reliquaries..... probably fifty times that around Tallus."

>Halfway blacking out from removing the gauntlet alone, the external damage wasn't yet beginning to swell but would do so soon.
>Tenuously slipping into the Void, you were far too wiped out to do more than enter the lower adherent spectrums.
>Mentally clouded by fatigue and unsure of what to do with an unknown strain, the first attempt at a likely one on the thumb provokes a minor, quickly searing flash of hot-cold.
>Ignoring the vast majority of pain responses, the second try results in the same as the first, as does the third and fourth.
>While you could deliberately focus on a single task, there wasn't enough mental coherence to concentrate on the same, motions sloppy and barely able to function.

>>371802
>Loading the game in a corner window, 'Shiibo' runs through the patch notes with a minute expression of distaste.
'In the unlikely margins that a Class Three, Four, or Five, is able to feel regret over their actions, should that place more blame on each willing participant or is this an attempt at looking a gifted horse in the mouth?'
>Taking on a short, self-chiding expression, the avatar makes a rapid, utterly graceless and sarcastic pirouette.
'I will not apologize for an unintentional pun even if I hate it.'

>Watching twinges of movements and EMF spectrum deviations, the AI slams her fist against the helmet's interior, a small feedback in algorithms erupting, then outfeeds a poorly translated insult.
<Japanese> EITHER JOIN RIGHT NOW OR STOP TOUCHING ME LIKE THAT YOU.. WEIRD, DEMEANING, UPSKIRT SEEKING PARTICLES!
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
>Holding off a glare, both arms fold as she takes on an attitude of molested umbrage.
'Good. She deserves to suffer.'

>Boot landing on an appreciably semirigid substance, as you exit into the crew compartment, the interior was vastly improved:
>Two feet taller than the cut-down original, the sides had been extended the same, now long enough to comfortably stretch out in or exercise without touching another passenger.
>The uncomfortable bench seats had been entirely replaced by twelve much better, heavy duty crash chairs with multiple adjustments, able to fold against the wall.
>The style a curious mix between aviation and naval, they were on obvious swivel mounts, yet you could sense the bases to be a non-ferrous magnetic composite.
>Clipped into the headrest side of each is an adjustable, one-size-does-fit all rubber mask, and below that was a fold out digital display, marked as a flexible, sensitive bioplastic.
>Both armrests now had a variety of protected electronic ports across the inner length of each, heavy duty albeit simple snap-locking mechanisms keeping those safe.
>The underchair lockers had doubled in size, next to each is a separated floor-to-ceiling locker, made from heavy gauge alloy that featured a glittering sheen in direct light.
>Partially recognizing the material coating the entire compartment, it was a drastic plus over the prior thin layerings.
>'Shiibo' points out a large number of heavy attachment rings, U-bolts, and eye-bolts at precise intervals through the interior, hidden yet easily accessible under cutout metaramid circles.

>The rear hatches were drastically upgraded, no longer several thin layers of titanium sheets, instead a solid, most likely ceramic coated monoplate; 'Shiibo' labels the obvious UP and DOWN buttons next to each as inaccessible in sincere humor.
>Eight pairs of high pressure hydraulic cyldinders on each assured rapid opening and closing.
>Standing roughly 20M inside the partial cavern, Katyal was constantly checking around her in quick 15-degree combat shuffling maneuvers, arms outstretched although her jacket was open, both gunbelts exposed wide.

>To the left of you, the original piloting cabin door had been moved to the center, able to slide either way either from one hydraulic ram in the floor and ceiling, or using a simple disconnect lever and brute force.
>Accessing revised schematics, the AI lists the vehicle as the newly renamed OT-4 'Landbarge', eyebrows lifting with an unrestrained smirk.
'They both lost. I am.. surprised. Personally I thought it would be the name of a preferred pond, stream, river, or ocean. ..I wonder what the cylinder's composition is and why Nightblade Hodch desires it so much.'
>Displaying a fully revamped pilot's seat on the left side, gunner-operator in center, and technician on passenger side.
>All three were inside a fully enclosed, individually temperature-atmosphere regulated cockpit, featuring a 360 degree radius, seamless internal screen.
'The material is a form of metastabilized diamond composite. It was created via particle synthesis, close to diamondine specifications.'
>A complex foldout seat that would be comfortable for a large human, unicorn, or pegasus, between each chair was listed in schematic form.
>Browsing through the electronic packages, the capabilities of each were increased by nearly 250% while the plasma weapons improved by 1/4, also having far less limited firing arcs.
>The PD laser systems had been slightly improved for lethality, armor penetration, and an additional hypercapacitor allowing for a second rapid fire cycle.
>Saving the best for last, 'Shiibo' displays the complete diagram of an 8-limbed, octopodal android exoskeleton and interface; six arms were dedicated to repair functions, and two multipurpose.
>Responding to a short communication from the avatar, the processing speed was slightly better than 'Shiibo', though had zero personality.
'Or tact. Meet the Rerculon Artificial Enhanced Hyper-Intelligence. It operates on brute force logic algorithms under a semi-energy post-quantum state. Octodecimal is indeed faster. Has no finesse and can be confused rather easily. It is capable of processing individual facial expressions to understand emotion when supplied with necessary data, though is incapable of forming a mood.
..would this be ten technological steps forwards and one back, or anti-Uncanny Valley?'

>Intercepting a technically lossless short range, direct-beam transmission from the pilot's cockpit, Lonestar was sitting back in a naval officer's chair, hands above his head and grinning.
*"Welcome to the OT-4! Calling her Landbarge. It ain't an insult, it's a threat now! Better range, bigger guns, lot better protection, hardened system packages, way more comfortable, got plenty of stowage. Itching to start up the repulsion lift but that can wait 'til Hodch gets his archaeology done."*
*"I heard that!"*
*"Of course you did. Also got him a sneaky little radio. So?"*
*"...haven't even seen them yet. Which way?"*
*"Further east then south, in a big pile next to a... tree that makes my old medium warcruiser look malnourished."*

>>371806
>Correcting Shiibo slightly after her slightly amusing outburst, he responds.
"It's still too early to apply Class designations to gravitons in this... dimension. The nature of their existence is too limited for that to apply. They're still following rules laid out by their respective Plane of origin. Apparently I have to persuade them to lend me themselves. Though if they were doing that as they left... it's best I didn't convince those ones."
>Giving a brief glance at the corner display of a game running, he involuntarily recalls a memory of one the station technicians sneaking installations of DOOM onto everyone's onboard HUDs.
"If you start taking an interest in retro games like that, just don't start getting too invested yet. I'd rather handle cultural dataset building for media when not on an active operation."

>Passing through the portal, a new spacious interior stretched out before him in a curious mix of styles.
(Ocean planet background must have dictated minimal delineation between airborne and naval operations... )
>Looking around the improved cabin, his helmet shifts in a firm nod of approval.
"Uparmored, improved functionality, expanded storage space. Starting to remind me of something reminiscent of a downsized combat Landship."
>Finding suitable give against the floor for his suit's boots, he makes his way towards his new storage locker and sets his pack away as Shiibo provides a schematics briefing.
>The unusual design of the RAEHI catches his attention and he checks its description three times rather than twice.
"I see. Appears to be a model suited to specific applications of combat with minimal questions. A design meant solely for war, rather than one to champion the humanistic strengths of the mind like your model. It cannot hold a spark to the fruits of Amadeus and Salieri systems. Five steps forward in a narrow band of weaponization application. Two steps back in the advancement of humanistic philosophy. Should be suitable for menial calculations you could save processing power on."
>Taking the opportunity to manifest his personal conceptual weapon in his gloved hand, he attempts to persuade any nearby gravitons.
(Maybe it will be more effective if it has physicality.)
[1d6 = 6]<Gravitic Coaxing

>Receiving the communication as he finishes securing his gear, he replies.
*"The upgrade was effective. Can only hope we won't need it. Has Silver responded? And where is Dul?"*

>>371774
>Snickering softly from the surprise reveal of Nao's sister's name, José would carefully peer closer on the globe where Argenta was supposed to be.
"What kind of 'access granted' are we talking about? Do you have the ability to outright teleport me there, schedule appropriate transport to authorized destinations or does it simply allow me to see the city states on the map?"
>He pensively tapped his chin as his gaze briefly went over the prohibited area before softly pointing at it.
"What does prohibitied mean in this context? Is it a simple matter of not being allowed to travel there or is it considered sensitive data that needs to be classified?"
>Hopefully Vortex Remnant was alright with all these questions about how it works.
>He's gonna need all the help he can get to properly set off to do some work.

>>371807
>Left side of her face twitching, the avatar appends her linguistic sections, adding the updated terminology, then searches through libraries and archives for more precise phrasing.
'I was referring to the as-of-yet unclassified individual known as Empress Silver. Sir, are you experiencing abnormal thought processes or patterns? This is the second time you have either lost or mistaken a direct topic of conversation.'
>Both eyebrows raise, biting her lips at the title screen while examining the game's processes on a side display.
'Noted. It functions at the least. The graphics could be greatly improved, and the coding.... there is more spaghetti than one hundred knockoff Italian restaurants.'

*"I'm trying to make her into a dual purpose asset, both land and naval, but that'll take a lot of effort. Long time ago my faction had a near completely energy-state ground hovering system that didn't rely on magnetic repulsion. Weighed about a third this one, but they also had way better particle synthesis systems, access to loads of trace elements, and lots of time."*
>Kicking back and swiveling around in the chair slowly, Lonestar's gaze quickly bounces across the multitude of readouts in visible familiarity.
*"Problem is balancing the fusion-core with energy consumption, maintaining fire support and PD weapon capabilities, and keeping weight scaled. She's currently sixteen tons, minus a bit here and there."*

>Shutting down the game and switching to the android model, the AI requests a self-diagnostic from it.
'Visually neutral. Easily visible yet non-threatening. Highly useful for intended roles. Logic faults are few in number. It understands a few complex illogic concepts: this statement is illogical, how can you be perfect when your creators are human, and similar with ease. Also some non sequiturs. An excellent support model within designated operating parameters. Outside the same parameters performance decreases by a factor of three.
The inbuilt limitations and aesthetics were designed by a human faction.. pseudo-Luddite in spirit, not nature or culture. Technological capabilities and applications are distinctly considered as tools first, weapons last. In their own words, they believed the Rerculon species would not accept similar-in-appearance artificial beings due their native partial energy-state.
A system and interface which would function in specialist support roles that a human could not, and would not cause conflict with the Rerculons themselves. An interestingly adaptive multispecies thought process.'
>Closing that screen down, 'Shiibo' returns to her former task of modeling equine cultural and civil interactions.
'With your permission I will assign marginal tasks and median to long term calculations to the AEHI interface.'
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]

>Stopping the spin to rotate facing directly forwards, Lone reaches out to tap nearly solid keys.
*"Same, but I'll always hope for the best and prepare for everything else. Dul's outside, hundred fifty-eight meters. And now I can actually pick her up on scans. She's taking Hodch to the cache she dug up."*

>Sensing the exact opposite of mood, a single Tallus-bound Graviton escapes it's position in chaotic patterns and streaks to the weapon's barrel, politely slowing to a mere several thousand miles per second in order to enter the containment chamber where it nestles.
>Comfortably.
>The avatar's expression is beyond dead flat.
'The second I collect data which confirms a probability of emotionally bonded particles acting upon perverse inclinations, sir? Delete me. Immediately. That is not a question.'

*"...nothing."*
*"What do you mean?"*
*"I don't feel her. The so-called Empress? Not even a shift in the world. The absence of some THING and SOME thing in part, sum, and totality. She used to be the opposite of a gigantic black hole, a... million villages on a million roads branching off a million pathways, always leading to her."*
>Glancing up at a display off screen, Lonestar frowns, right hand reaching out to center the forward view on Dul and Hodch close together.
*"Look, I know how touchy Ferron, batponies, and unicorns get when they start talking about ka, the soul, spirits, and other stuff, but that don't sound right for her."*
*"Because it is not. By now she would have arrived to humorously punish and mock Katyal in equal measure for her own flaws."*
*"Thanks for the vote of confidence. I guess? ...why don't y-"*
*"No. I only want to kill her through endless interrogations."*
*"Fiiine. ..hey Lone. You got a minute to spare? Try calling out to the biggest bitch in the whole wide world! It's a lot of fun, I promise!"*
*"... sure, why not. Ain't even the weirdest or craziest thought I've had this week.
Empress Silver, Empress Silver, Empress Silver, you're a real cryptic bitch when you shouldn't be, your skin makes me wish I never saw it because that STILL creeps me out, and I hate the fact that your posterior is forever burned into my brain.
Also don't land on my Landbarge or I swear to every God and Goddess of this world that I'll throw ground hot pepper mixes in your face every time I see you!"*
*"See? That wasn't hard at all!"*
*"That was kinda fun."*
*"Wait.. the wh- damn it! Hodch, we both lose this round."*
*"Then, next time?"*
*"Sure."*

>>371804
>Luna's feather turns out to be a dud, as well. Any times he has used it, there was a response of some sort. Either its signal could not reach past here, or the Princess was still in critical condition from... that was HOURS ago. He hopes she's okay.
>However the Moon Orb takes his message in, feeling himself being transferred to and fro until it settles on an older mare from the sound of it.
>He apparently didn't give her enough identification.
'My apologizes, Watchkeeper Cloudstrike. I am Nightblade Jeff, from Razorback. The one human that got initiated, a while back. I know my creds are good with the Councilmembers, if any of them are available to vouch for me. Can't really think of anypony else, right now.'
>Looking around at the forest, he wasn't going to get any good land-wait she thinks he's in a Lunar reliquary.
'No, I don't. I was taken... transported inside here directly from the Basin Village. And it's not a Lunar reliquary. It's owned by a very old Druid. Calls herself Linear-in-Nature, Lin for short. She says the Moors is her home, that she was born into being when it first emerged from Tallus. She even attests to creating all the plants and animals within it. That old! I can try and triangulate my position. I tried calling for Luna but she didn't answer. I know she's been hurt really bad since the siege, but what's going on up at the Citadel? Last I heard something about the Nahtmare Flowing Spark, but that was a few hours ago. You don't sound too good yourself, ma'am. Are you alright, on your end?'
>Grabbing the TacPad, he opens the GPS to try and pinpoint his position on Tallus. Knowing Lin's reluctancy to leave the Moors for whatever reason, he should at least be somewhere there. He calls out his position the best as he or his tech could.
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <TacPad: GPS
'Here's my coordinates. Do what you can with the info I shared with you. I need... a minute to try some impromptu field medicine. Please stay connected. I don't want to be alone, right now.'
>It was less out of fear, but more of a small comfort that he can talk to someone. The last company he has was less than pleasant.

>The process of trying to remove the nettle was excruciating. Everytime he tried on one it was like it was reactivating all over again.
>He was already too tired mentally and physically to keep doing this. At some point he's going to injure himself more.
>Jeff decides to stop after a handful of attempts, stashing the tweezer and wound pad back into the med pouch and attaching it to his hip for quick access later. He can try again, if he finds himself in better shape.
>He touches base with Cloudstrike on the other end of the Moon Orb.
'Cloudstrike, you still there? Sorry if you heard any of that. I was... unsuccessful. This Lin caught me with what I swear is weapons-grade stinging nettle.'
>Strapping the TacPad back onto his arm, he's reluctant to slip it his gauntlet fully back on over the barbs. Instead, he just fastens and stickies the forearm section back on, the gloved end slumped limply over the uninjured backside of his hand. At least this way can can still use his left to block.
>Finally carefully slinging on his pack, he looks down at the stream.
'I need to get moving. Not feeling safe where I am. I was told there was a hidden exit out of here, but I would still have to climb out once I did. The reliquary is bowl shaped, going off the acoustics. At least twelve hundred meters in diameter, assuming I'm in the center. There's a huge emerald in front of me, maybe around eightish tons worth. Giant crystalline trees that were glowing but have dimmed out. And a stream in front of me filled with emeralds of all different sizes. There are signs of life, small. So far. She mentioned she bred the meanest the Moors has to offer in here.'
>Letting Cloudstrike sink his descriptions in, he inches toward the only light source available to him. At least it was a constant source, and an easy guide so he won't get lost. He observes the direction of the flow, downstream would be the gamble pond Lin mentioned earlier. What would happened if he followed it upstream? There would have to be a source, somewhere. Perhaps the source also held the potential exit?
>Signs of obvious life on the banks an a clean flow told him it's probably drinkable. No way the Druid would let dirty water flow through her home, right? She did warn him of touching anything.
>Then again, wasn't he touching the ground? If something happen to attack him, he'd be touching that too.
>His hand was killing him. Leaving it open to the air should help, but he wanted to flush it out at the very least.
>It wasn't the pond. And it wasn't his own drinking water. And she wasn't here, right now.
>Unless she was silently observing him. No time for THAT level of paranoia, yet.
>He keeps his ears open around him, now that he's calmed down enough to get his senses in place again.
>Although anything he's heard earlier were a ways off, he could be getting honed in on.
[1d6 = 5] <M.Perception
[1d6 = 2]
[1d6 = 6]
[1d6 = 4]
>The only weapon he could think of handling right now would be the tomahawk, Lunarite blade, or the Spellslinger. The Honeybadger needed two hands. And he didn't want to spill any blood if he didn't have to.
>He checks the elemental chambered, rotating it to the Air element and cocking the hammer back.
>Jeff kneels down next to the bank, reaching out and over the surface of the water.
>And skims the top of the water with enough of his hand to wetten the afflicted areas for a few seconds.

>>371772
>Lont was about to turn away, to go back to the Fortress, to sleep away the rest of this awful night when he saw the Lead Spireguard march towards him from the corner of his eye.
>He didn't really expect that to happen, he wasn't sure what to expect anymore.
>He was going to take a step back if she got any closer but she stopped far enough away.
>His mouth opened, then promptly closed as she spoke.
>The Operator listened to the mare with as much focus he could muster. She didn't leave room for him to talk much and he didn't have much to say or ask.
>No. There were a few questions he needed to ask.

>Lont picked up the blue crystal ball when he felt it bounce off his boot. He was slow when picking it up, his knees audibly popping. His fatigue was an oppressive weight on him now intent on dragging him down to the dirt where it'll force him to sleep. He fought it off with what little energy he had left in him.
>He spun the orb around in his hand a few times before looking back to the Spireguard mare. Stressed and tired human eyes met hers.
"I will tell these Generals that, maybe they have been doing there own research already."
>"Unless they didn't detect Anti either."
"And I will endeavour to not contaminate the Crystalplates with too much of my Anti."
>He said with a small wry smile.
>It didn't last long.
"I need somepony to seek out Matron Farezith of the Conclaves, there is a high possibility of Anti contamination with her. And in the Conclave that she resides over there is a Shell by the name of Shattered Glacier, she and her foal are definitely contaminated. You might find Grand Champion Belregard there still along with one Shining Armour, they too might be contaminated."
>He only hoped somepony had already checked on them in the interim.
"Also, I wish to know a few things. Firstly; the number of ponies contaminated. And-"
>His grip on the Rime Orb grew tight, so tight the sphere threatened to slip out of his grasp.
"-Were there fatalities?"
>Lont stared at the orb before focusing on his sword. His contaminated Mural Blade left clattered on the hallowed Basin Village ground.
>Again he bent down, but this time with the aid of his sword he stood up much faster. A perfect allegory of himself really.
"What of Cadence? Was she contaminated too? Did she...Did she know? Know about Razorbacks negligence, about my own?"

>The din of chatter going all around him by his fellow Operators finally registered in his mind.
>He could not recall what happened to Emerald, so he turned his head to sweep his vision across the Basin to see if anything or anyone was amiss.
[1d6-3 = (2-3) = -1] >E.Perception
[1d6-3 = (3-3) = 0]
[1d6-3 = (3-3) = 0]
[1d6-2 = (2-2) = 0] >H.E

>>371799
>The young being, the novice Druid and freshly sapient Snowfall could not move.
>Something instinctual had bolted him down in place. All his muscles were locked up. Eyes unblinking as he stared north.
>The only thing he could hear was his heart pounding in his chest.
>This thing.
>This utterly unnatural thing was here, in the Fortress, in his home.
>His home.
>That thought brought some lucidity back to the Pred-Elk.
"Calm down, breath, think."
>So he attempted to do so by breathing deeply through bared copper teeth. He was eventually able to break eye contact with the northern wall of the Clinic, and dared not to look out of the Clinics' doors. He did listen however.
>Shakily stepping backwards then turning around he made his way towards the Clinics desk, there he would have more protection if/when this Horror broke in.
"Nova can hoofle this."
>Snowfall said to himself as a measure to calm himself down some more.
>Nova was powerful. And not wholly alone, nor was the Fortress completely unstaffed. If she needed backup she will get it.
>The question that made him gnaw at his lips and tap his hooves on the desktop, would he and his herd b part of it?

>>371810
>Stopping on the other side of the portal, he gives Shiibo a confused stare.
"I won't discount potential confusion from recent events, but Silver is already classified hence why I assumed you were referring to the gravitons. Silver is a Class Two, formerly Class One or on the verge of becoming a Class One."
>He shakes his head before moving on.
"Or the temporal discrepancies Katyal had mentioned are creating further miscommunications."

>Finally receiving a graviton, he deconceptualizes the weapon and tests the chair nearest his storage locker.
"Noted. And permission is granted, so long as the information offloaded is of non-classified clearance. Since this 'Rerculon' species is somewhat emulated in this design, then it seems Lonestar's origin faction attempted some level of integration with them. More adaptive than I was expecting. Likely still problematic, but technologically I'll give them credit."
>He quickly stands again however, as Katyal's reply brings an uncomfortable premonition to mind.
(First the Nightmare's critical status with those clouds... now Silver's complete non-presence. This feels like a nonsensical portent.)
*"There isn't anything out here strong enough to block out Silver's presence entirely, is there? First the Nightmare, now this, it all seems too coincidental."*
>With a vague sense of unease, he makes his way out the rear hatch to survey Katyal and the nearby surroundings in the massive den.

>>371799
>Now able to focus on Snakebite, he makes little of note to his more comfortably neutral position on the table.
>His skin, now much thicker than before and reminded him of more lizard-like.
>Checking his pulse through the new dermal layer, he found his pulse was keeping up well with the drugs in his system.
>The levels were measured for regular human tolerances. Would the infusions have given him a heartier constitution, higher metabolism to handle more?
>Observing and also feeling a slight increase in fluid buildup, along with more-than usual sweating, Carlos gets a sample kit for a nearby supply station. No temperature change meant no inflammation or infection. He collects several generous vial samples of the thicker-than-usual perspiration.
>Certain reptilian species prefer to keep their skin constantly moist. He wonders if his body is overreacting to the liquification of the fat layer, and is taking in extra fluid to build it back up. He'll mark the new absorbtion rate of the saline/dextrose solution for an earlier change-out.
>As he check the lines, he notes Snakebite was subconciously forming a combative layer around his IV. It reminded him of a tree growing around an object in contact of it.
>Skin change fluctuates as he updates his notes. Fascinating! Chameleons are known to change their skin tone based on their emotions. Pair that up with the pre-REM sleep, Snakebite's skin may be reacting to him dreaming.
>And a tap on his skin made it tense up. No, harden? Almost completely.
>He wasn't sure how to put it.
>When he was palpating before he didn't experience this. Hmm... perhaps a sharp strike over a certain force threshold activates a sort of reactive dermal hardening. Muscles under the skin could be hyper-contracting along with an instantaneous no tolerance alignment of skin laminars.
>He would have to test it, during outpatient recovery. With Snakebite's permission, of course.

>>371813
>As he wraps up their human patient's current status, he looks over at Snowfall.
>The Pred-Elk must be able to sense the entity that Nova Flicker is now facing. He's definitely shaken up a bit, as he cowers behind the front desk.
>He takes a concerned pause, before he goes and checks on Lejura.
"Is it that powerful, Senior Snowfall? The Fortress is rather undermanned. Should I radio for help?"
>He idles up with the Pred-Elk at the front desk, before continuing his rounds.

>>371333
"Well I still feel pain and stuff so I know it isn't. You usually don't feel anything in dreams."
>Probably the case here too.
>PROBABLY.
"Wild do not have an existential crisis right now, that can be postponed indefinitely."
>Or occur at a more convenient time and place.

>While I had no real basis of how she looked besides the Mini-her, I knew she was pretty fucked up.
"Well uh..."
>I mull my words over for a moment.
"You wouldn't be able to get a first date with anyone, I'd say."
>..
"Yeah you're all kinds of fucked up, aside from your legs which are mostly intact. Aside from the seams. And cabling that's exposed."
>I grimace as I inspect her upper body a bit.
"You're going to have a lot of work replacing all of this."

>>371768
>Hmmm...she's speechless
>But hopefully she understands and stays away from the Riftseeker or the Constructs
>Watching the screen form from the two cases, he still has no idea what the symbols mean
>The cultist mare has more of a idea than he has though but it ain't much
>Clemency flinched at the mare shrieking in frustration
>The fatigue fully set in and was making Clemency jumpy
>But she is hatching a plan at least
"Lann's shop? I know where it is. But I didn't know she had a Moon Orb."
>At the mention of a berry name, Clemency tried to remember who she is referring to
>It had to be somepony back at the Citadel
>Basin City?
>He was unaware that a city exists in the Basin
>Maybe it's just a very good secret
>More code words though
"Ok, 20 charcoal sticks and 5 tomes. Anything else to expect from them?"

>After asking the question, Clemency winces against the harpy's screaming
>He didn't realize the sarcophagus still had some effect considering it was dead
>He instead deigns to not even enter it
>As much as he want to sleep, he rather have one he can wake up from and not be comatose
>"So, no and no. But she also mentioned the Basin City."
*"Don't worry, I won't. I'll be waiting in the meantime."*

>>371809
>Either unable to resize, or refusing to, the map's northern edge was centered on two broad regions, Mareixico and Mexicolt, sharing a thoroughly unmarked border, excepting small villages and a few towns.
>Hundreds of clustered islands and a wide variety of archipelagos dot the western ocean off Argentum's Lands, the majority listed as unknown, prohibited, dangerous, tainted, corrupted, or both of the previous two statuses.
>More than 40% had previously inhabited markers, current indications of lightly inhabited below 2%, and only the largest archipelagos or island chains were moderately inhabited.
>In total, the uninhabited number was nearly 98%.
>Far west however, Cuteba is listed as the largest Caribean Island, mostly jungle with a broad, wide beach that looked uninterrupted around the landmass, and currently inhabited by numerous Ferron Clans spread throughout.
>A mixture of smaller islands around Cuteba weren't individually distinguished, instead, patches of claims by the main Ferron and two sister clans, the Malurians and Arkadians.
>On the eastern side of Argentum's Lands, of the approximately 600 islands, less than than 50 were inhabited, entirely functioning as small military ports, research outposts, or both.

>Sorting through envelopes once more, Starglow emits a moderately snide snort as the metallic eye twists around in a full rotation.
>Sighing and folding her lift wing over her head, Shanis speaks in a slow, nonchalant tone before the Crystal mare can cause further damage.
"That stone circle covered in symbols and runes you're standing in front of is a translocation matrice. Translocation is a near-instant dimarensional travel through the Vortex Remnant's network across Tallus. It's safe unless you're carrying a Planar being or creature that thinks, 'hay, this would be a good time to dive back home real quick'. Worse case scenario, everything inside that tunnel gets spit out to where they entered.
Each matrice is usually connected to all other matrices, but the owner of one can set any limitations or stipulations they want. For example I've limited the two major matrices on Tartarus Island to only accept translocations that've been verified by the Remnant and and deliveries from direct allies. The rest are used for inter-island transport.
The map is accessible by everypony and everyone so long as they ask first. Each matrice has to be accessed by the Remnant, so some aren't up to date. If possible ask a sub-Remnant to provide an immediate view.
Most regions that aren't listed, darkened, sectioned off, marked with large borders, and so on, either have a travel ban, are prohibited, or restricted. That region's been prohibited for.. over a decade."
>Pausing to blink upwards, the pegasi's snout twitches morosely.
"I think. Nopony knows why and asking questions about it is probably a bat idea."

>>371811
"You're a Starborn then."
>Constant paper noises are accompaneighed by short, hard three-hoof steps, then a partial tap after.
"Four of the Lunar Council are deceased. Three are awaiting their last hour or less. One is in critical condition. One is severely crippled, unlikely to recover. One is moderately injured, currently absent. One is lightly injured, also absent. The last has been missing for over four hours, possibly five.
Until replacemarents are vetted, approached, questioned, then accepted or rejected, five previous Lunar Council members have been brought from stasis to assume temporary duties. One more per each will follow. We ha-"
>Crystalline fractures in the background and a distant explosion drifts, the mare quiet for some time, then speaks in low, firm tones.
"I'm stating the following so that there are zero future consequences, ramifications, and repercussions: I have no idea what you are speaking of, and I do not understand the same. For the purposes of not being dragged in another shitshow... everything you have seen and will experience is to never be shared. Not a single bloody word shall ever be spoken aloud. Do you understand?
If you do, and accept my words have been spoken as significant matters of existential security, continue speaking. If not then I will disconnect you from the Lunar Network.
.......a ritual is being prepared to aid the Lunar Princess. I am not allowed to speak on that matter further.
...that one. Beyond insane. Dreams that shouldn't occur when awake. Half-alive in unreality. Half-dead in mind, spirit. Sings for the flames that can't speak any longer... carves names for each one. Only cares for them now.
She pushed together most every piece of Construct debris, hulls, fluid, and everything, then proceeded to melt most of it, but not all. The lowest tunnels are flooded, entire Underworks is filled with cooling orange metal. There were a few parts she.. 'prevented from being touched by extreme force'.
........I was supposed to be off the Citadel three hours ago. Medical retiremarent. Permarenent. In short, a complete mess all the way around.... we didn't even have time to enact catastrophic measures, that's how quick the Constructs burst down and through."
>Wingblades clack together followed by loud tearing, Cloudstrike huffing irritably.
"Horseasses, this map's at least five years old. Some of the new ones are marked, should work. You're in the Deep Moors, trying to find latitude and longitude, need a few minutes. ..I'll be here."

>Hoof clicking on stone and barely muttering now, her tone shifts to brief accusation.
"Awake for now. Alive, not so much. Unless Heartbreak storms in for another useless check up..
...Nigthblade, if you're in such bad shape that you can't even treat yourself, moving is the worst option. Then again mostly I ca- ...nevermind. Hold on, let me see if these open-"
>Metallic and crystalline locks clicking multiple times, she exhales calmly at a dull thud.
"Nope, don't even know where the slots are. ..the good and bad news: I've found your probable location-"
>Reading off a series of coordinates which you compare to the TacPad, the entire central Deep Moors grids matched them.
"Been little explored before the Early Dynasty, majority is prohibited. No Warp Gates, and no teams are willing to set down translocation matrices.
..and I've just confirmed the last orbital crashdown pod was taken a few hours ago... there's not even a horsefucking name on the log sheet! Why do someponies never follow protocol?! Those are for emergency use only!
I know this much: the Lunar Druids, their warclans, orders, brotherhoods, sisterhoods, allegiances, and allies disappeared before 29,400 or shortly after. They claimed the Deep Moors and parts of the New Everfree. Few descendants remain in Equestria, and weren't fond of Malurians. There might be some records left in the Hall's Archives, will bitchfit someponies into going down for a search.
They left behind all of the.. ‘modified’ Warguard and Vanguard Wolves in specific locations. Independent Druids use those as neutral trading grounds sometimes. They can inherently detect sapience but won't willingly help an uninjured non-Druid, so if you see one they might let you stay with until recovering. ..do NOT piss them off for any reason, they were.. 'shaped' to kill Minotaurs and similar equivalents during the Middle Dynasty.
Tidelock Bog's in the southernmost Deep Moors, close to Ferron lands. Could be anywhere from two to four thousand miles south. Mirekeep is west, three to five thousand where Central touches Deep. Nothing southeast, east, or northeast, those are the Crags. North.. twenty to thirty medium Ferron villages, loads of smaller ones. Lot of batpony colonies; dots, campfires, or outpost signs. About the same distances.
Look, Nightblade, I can't even tell you what my duties are but that whole region is NOT a place to be in, much less wandering around. Could travel a hundred miles in any direction and not be seen by a living, but most importantly untainted AND uncorrupted batpony. There's enough insanity near the inhabited regions they won't even fly twenty miles over the Deeps.
Unless I can find or force another crashdown's production, you'd better have a fourth or fifth option available.. and I don't mean suicide."

>Focusing on the last echoes bouncing down into the Reliquary, whatever had occurred wasn't being repeated.
>Ebbing to a bare few lumens each, diffracted traces of green were all that marked the crystalline trees while the boulder and gems in the stream remained bright.
>The water was freezing, numbing palm, fingers, and thumb, intensity welcoming enough to blunt the constant pulsing.

"..I think you're inside a spawning chamber. That's where young are created, fed the first few times, then released. That'll be the safest place until noon, after that reptiles, insects, hybrids, and big predators start hunting. Look for a small place you can hide and defend from if need be."

>>371812
"It is improbable they will be aware of Anti contamination as each General's ExoFrame is thoroughly examined by Princess Cadenza. Likewise I do not believe Crystalplates will degrade unless subjected to prolonged direct contact by Class Four or worse exposure."
>Glancing over her back at the Conclavists and Kingdom adherents, her head swivels about to give a firm nod.
"You have my word we will search for Matron Farezith and her Conclave, but we must undergo precise decontamination procedures before a next course of action may be approved. As for the Crystal-Revenant, he and..."
>Taking on a thoroughly dumbfounded face, the Spireguard squints before returning to a neutral tone.
"They will be unaffected, that is assured.
While we understand that the majority of Razorback is exhausted or worse, fatigue should not resemble being incapable of remembering previously marentioned facts.
As was previously stated: we have shared what we positively know; numbers and individual statuses are as of yet unknown.
It is unlikely Princess Cadenza can be negatively affected due to her..."
>Turning a derisive sneer downwards, she snorts in a flatly hostile marener.
"Prior history with a certain incomprehensible silver-skinned whorse, may all suffering be etched within that one's crooked mind one hundred thousand times over.
Similarly improbable she was or is contaminated, and the latter questions do not have sufficient facts on hoof to answer. I am most tired of endless speculation, guesswork, and quarter-flanked calculations with which to throw hypotheticals or theories upon."
>Offering a slight, formal bow, the Spireguard swivels on hoof in short measured hoof steps, calling over her shoulder as she clanks towards the Crystal forces.
"Warn Razorback of the words we have shared-"

>Blearily surveying around Basin Village, there was no sign of the short Korean woman, her prominently fashionable white coat missing among the thousands of Day and Watch Guard still exiting south of the fountain.
>Surveying the Operators arranged in groups, most sitting down, kneeling, or standing close to the east building walls, you try matching known armors, helmets, preferred colors, patches, weapons, and other identifiers.
>Besides Clemency occupied with the unusual aircraft, it seemed all of Razorback was still here.
>...except for Jeff, his helmet and mask would've been highly visible from where you were.
*"I've got nothing."*
*"No sign anywhere?"*
*"There's nowhere to hide and we've have seen her moving around real easy."*
*"Nada. Bunch of those cold armored unicorns though."*
*"Can we be sure she didn't, y'know, fall in a swamp or bog?"*
*"If she did, and I'm playing along here, there'd be twenty to fifty ponies dragging her out immediately afterwards."*
*"What about some Void critter that could've grabbed her?"*
*"I'm cutting you off right now. There were Lunar unicorns and psions in the thousands, they knew EXACTLY where everything bigger than a micrognat was at all times."*
*"Crystal ponies too..."*
*"Where's Jeff?"*
*"What?"*
*"JEFF, YOU MORON!"*
*"He was.. with us at the the south entrance?"*
*"When?"*
*"Right before Lont radioed in."*
*"Saw him there too, had one of those blades in hand, scarring himself."*
*"Yeah, same."*
*"I got out of there around the same time he did."*
*"Hold on, I saw him starting to get up when I was leaving."*
*"....then what?"*
*"I don't fucking know, was thinking about checking the rooftops."*
*"Didn't see him when we left either."*
*"That's two people missing now. Is there anyone else?"*
*"We made roll call right after getting in, so, all squads sound off, Rooks first."*

>>371813
>Huddling in front of Tipper's strongly scented wood desk, the level of safety was a marginal increase.
>Except the surface clutter and interior contents would have to be removed, then filled before it could be turned over, around, and shoved against the door.

>Nova Flicker 1 turn of Critical Enrage remaining
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <Vile Taunt
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14] <E.Assault
[1d6+9 = (4+9) = 13]
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <M.Casting: Voidshear
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <M.Teleport
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
>vs:
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <???
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <???
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <???
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14] <???

>>371816
>Nudging open the #2 Operating Room to peer in, Lejura was still on her side, little moved from earlier.
>Forelegs tucked into a comfortable crossed, calm, moderately deep, rumbling inhales and exhales are accompaneighed by slow, minor ear twitches.
>A heavily drugged, albeit standard rhythmic sleeping pattern for a full dose of Dampener.
>Taking a quick feel across the mare's soft neck from throat to below her skull, each pulse was average for heavy sedation, though considerably stronger than normal, a definite response from being critically overdosed by potent restoration mixtures.
>Performing a snout pinch test, then a ten second frog hold to check proper blood flow, each was within satisfactory conditions, though her bodily temperature was closer to 105, within normal for a Saddle Arabian.
>Waiting to overhear possible lung constrictions, nasal hitching, teeth grinding, whistling, and other disruptive sounds for two minutes, none occur.
>Peeling open the mare's left eyelids, the pupil remains fully expanded.
>Testing the responsiveness with a split-second penlight check, delayed minor dilation occurs and is subsequently restored in nine seconds.
>Performing the same test, this time the dilation and expansion occurs in eight seconds.

>Rotating through the remaining patients, the earlier two injured humans had long since left, clipboards with affixed charts marked by Nova Flicker's neat writing; times, later treatmarents, and scheduled checkups were more constricting than standard, but otherwise workable.
>Returning to the heavily distorted stasis capsules containing Kraut, Novus, and Caliya, visual examinations reveal no changes or alterations of the temporal containing field.
>Panning the diagnostic disc over the first..... Carlos bleakly wishes he hadn't.
>And that anything resembling minced meat or corned beef hash could disappear. Forever.

>Taking a bit to recover from those wholly unforeseen shocks, a base layer inspection of Novus was barely distressing in comparison.
>Far less tenderized, but equally unsurvivable, the entire combined medical staff of Canterlot College and the Crystal Empire's alchemist teams would never be able to safely restore Novus' vital organs in the half-second or less it would take to physically expire, even with significant temporal delay.
>Considering the man's apparently conscious state at his technical time of pre-death, Carlos notes a number of significant, yet barely studied and poorly understood, parameters that weren't possible to replicate in lab conditions.
>Taking in the conditions of combining extremely violent force and speed-induced fractures, impact deformations across bone, muscle, tendon, nerve, and blood vessel compactions, along with shearing forces to all of the same, a suitably comprehensive human physiological study could be made.

>Deliberating on whether or not to attempt surveying Caliya, the beyond-first-degree burns, visibly charred exposed musculature, near-carbonized bone, and whiplashed tendons alike were beyond any method of categorizing.
>And stomach churning.

>>371815
'Testing both the prototype's theoreticals and my records for clarity.'
>Setting up six windows, two for video, two for audio, and two for text, 'Shiibo' sets the last five minutes into extreme playback speeds.
>Slowing down multiple points of each for comparisons, the avatar's face creases scorfully.
'Temporal divergences are not what occurred sir, rather, the opposite. A correction is necessary: my algorithms blended together causing me to speak of both Empress Silver and Tallus-linked Gravitons at the same time; whether intentional or not is unclear. My original processes intended information solely on the individual known as Silver. The second was spoken in a near-failure state specifically focused on Graviton particles.
I do not have sufficient data to determine a likelihood or potential cross-contamination of future incidents. The best I can offer is: possible yet unlikely.
Clarifications have been archived and should not fail when subjected to temporal anomalies. Pattern and divergent vector studies would be recommended... but you do not have the necessary equipment to conduct such indepth analyses, sir.'
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8]
'Understood. There are numerous data volumes contained within the AEHI interface to peruse.. approximately four thousand near-standard years of surface level information is publicly available.'

>Stepping onto the deployed hatch, the ambient light level was below dim though comfortable enough to see by.
>Wide, blunted, 10' to 12' claws, or extremely crude scraping tools, had widened out a cavity between two of the gigatrees, the cavity sheltered by three smaller ones piled atop.
>To the right was, mostly, evenly flat, the ramp leading up and out looked to have weathered a number of recent heavy rainfalls, deep semicircle impressions barely able to be called tracks.
>Left and deep inside the den was an irregular, elongated bowl, partially filled with loam colored water, the same peculiar markings surrounding it.
>'Shiibo' marks out the dimensions for an estimate while you notice there were no stones, boulders, sticks, or plant life inside.

>Katyal's arms drop to her gunbelt, head swiveling towards the OT-4, then turns in quarter-circles as she speaks.
*"If there was, Hodch and Nibbles could tell immediately. Might take me a few minutes, but so far, not so much as a twitch. Maybe Dul can sense what we don't, or can't. Don't know how she experiences Tallus though."*
*"Other than worldwide Construct jamming in effect? It's gotten stronger but otherwise nothing on scans. Been in a few places where I can feel making enchantment work's more difficult than normal. Has this hard to forget tingle in the mind, between an electrical sting and a resistor not quite blowing out. Here? I feel good. Normal's a stretch."*
*"No, not in the slightest Pare. This region is among the least tainted and corrupted I have felt."*
*"Through all four hooves, or just you?"*
*"Both, in fact. Here reminds me of.. certain locations which are best described as pure. Freed from all non-Tallus essences, influences, and traces; harsh or primal Elemarentals, Planar, Otherworld, Spectral, Animus, a list of lists that are often negative in association and totality. If there is a proper name for this sensation, I do not know it."*
*"Then that brings us back to the same problem: if Silverbitch isn't listening like she should be, then what?"*
*"I do not know. It is both a sincere, vast relief knowing that Tallus is not currently suffering from her vagaries.. and an iota concerning at the same time. Unfortunately that means lacking information which we deserve access to, especially given the precarious objectives and nature of our mission. The- oh, there it is. That is...... quite the pile. Hm.
And quite fortunately for you Miss Alvugarde, she will not be here to offer sincere advice on choosing an excellent stallion, or colt, using your womanly attributes, and most certainly will not be commarenting on your fairly lacking hip to teat ratio."*
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] <GM.Mysticism: Reveal-Thy-Secrets
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14]
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12]
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15]

>Scrambling Katyal's half-laughing, half-shouting before she could flood the current channel, Lonestar sits up in his chair, frowning painfully while thumbing controls on the right piloting stick.
*"Why'd I have to be stuck with the two biggest jokesters around? At least Finny doesn't ask if she should walk or fly behind me ten paces any more."*
[1d6+8 = (2+8) = 10] <ExoTech Optronic Particle Scanners
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14]
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9]

>>371863
>Standing at the foot of the ramp, he folds his arms and scuffs the soil once with his right boot.
>He listens on as everyone offers their considerations.
>Despite Hodch's good humor to Silver's lack of presence, the sense of uncertainty does not dissipate in his mind.
>Responding first to Shiibo, he blinks in acknowledgement.
"AEHI data likely pertains to world history relevant to Lonestar's background. Not a current priority for analysis. Will be relevant in future technology and cultural risk vector assessments for his profile. And yes, current equipment suites are substandard given the total strategic goals dictated by the Protocol. Noted for if this operation succeeds."

>Fishing into his pack for a flashlight, he slaps it twice before turning it on, Sticking it to the top of his helmet, and pointing it towards the pool of water.
>Scanning around it and the edges of the den, he checks for anything unusual or out of place.
[1d6 = 3]<Expert Perception
[1d6 = 6]
[1d6 = 6]
>Once finished, he would then shift his pack again to find and turn on the 5CTA tablet.
"This should have fauna detection functionality and additional sensory tools... "
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]<Flora Detection
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]<Fauna Detection

>Sighing, as he uses the tablet he speaks into the helmet radio.
*"Then it seems we have no additional options at present other than asking Katyal to probe the function of the Rime Lattice Orb's enchantments in an attempt to find a property capable of cleansing the probable sources of Anti in our equipment... and this den is devoid of any expected debris. Is that something to note for what kind of creature would make a den like this?"*

>>371862
>Giving Lejura a comprehensive once-over, he is satisfied with her progress.
>Despite the Dampeners and toxic-levels of Restoration, the Saddle Arabian was faring quite normally.
>Blood flow, temperature, breathing, reaction, and dilation under sedation were satisfactory.
>He updates her chart with his check-up, and moves on.

>The next three... were still in stasis, at least.
>He doesn't even know what he was expecting looking at Kraut. Just as bad inside as he looked outside.
>The doctor was literally at a loss for words he even remained intact. Just ground meat, in a skin suit, at this point.
>Assuming his ka was still with his body, it was going to be a tough position for him to be in. Some sort of transfer into a shell body, would be the only viable option, at this point. Or allow the man to pass, naturally.

>Novus was not as bad, but the damage to his body was beyond fatal as well. At least there was more substance to observe. He did all he could to take plenty of notes on what could be salvaged information-wise from the Operator's body.

>And last, Caliya, who may as well have been third degree barbecued. Fourth degree, if it can be categorized.
>Charred and flesh and bone along with flayed tendons and ligaments...
>More reactionary than a conscious act, Carlos makes a sign of the cross with his pen hand.
>The fact that at some point, the stallion was probably awake and feeling every bit of that...

>>371813
>Having completed his rounds on all current patients' recoveries... or barely alive in stasis, Carlos looks over at the Pred-Elk.
"Senior Snowfall, how does Seniorita Nova fare? You seemed nervous, earlier. Like you could see la lucha unfolding."
>He starts heading over to the Clinic's radio.
"Shall we call in for assistance? I am not much of a fighter, myself. If whatever it is gets in here, well... I guess you'd be our last line of defensa!"

>>371853
>Now having confirmed his identity, Cloudstrike gets down to the meat and potatoes of the Citadel's situation.
>They were some pretty depressing meat and potatoes...
>The entire council was either dead, dying, or missing.
>Chuz`Ain, Cracked Eye, Oranti, Ridgeback, Sleethoof? He was well enough with them, especially after their training. The others were less, unfortunately. There was the baticorn that berated him at the crypt, and an earth pony he swear he hasn't seen since she voted against him at his induction.
>And going off of what Clem mentioned... that was hours ago. No way Twisted was part of the casualties.
>And pulling more out of stasis, of all things, just to keep things together. He was aware enough of such emergency procedures, just never thought it's get that bad to implement them.
'Shit... hmm. I was acquainted with most of them. The... I forget the bat unicorn's name right now. She came crashing down to my aid along with Marshmallow Moon uh... four and change hours ago actually. Unrelated to my current predicament. She was barely standing, but left on her own power and left Diplomat Marshmallow with me and my team. Not sure where she went after that.'
>After leveling his predicament with the Guardmare, he could feel he may have divulged too much. Her voice shifts to a no-nonsense tone. Either out of disbelief, or the implications were far too fantastical to quantify.
>Once she gives him an ultimatum to keep his mouth shut or lose her aid, it was the latter.
>Jeff clams up, not wanting to squander the only aid he has right now. But what Lin said to him regarding Vulgroz and the reliquaries weighs heavy on his mind.
'Understood. I don't think Lin would let me live long if I was blabbing her existence to everypony I bump into. However, she did express two unknown dangers to me that could threaten every human's life in Razorback. Unless if there's an acceptable way to pass those warnings on without divulging my current situation...'
>Jeff sighs through the Network to the older mare, conflicted.
'Consider myself classified, ma'am. As much as I want to help the others, you're my only life line out here right now.'
>She continues on about Luna, and Flowing Spark in greater detail. It seems the Nahtmare was truly raising hell in the Citadel's underground, slagging
'Here's good luck to the Princess then... Jeez, she's really razing hell up there. I hope you're able to evacuate, before things get any worse. No wonder Clem-'
>He pauses for a second, cutting himself off. His inner voice becoming concerned.
'Clemency. Another human from Razorback, General Twisted Wing's mate. He's not a Starborn member, but he's in the know. I've been gone long enough for the others to have probably noticed. Once they have exhausted any immediate means to locate me, he's probably going to try and contact me through the Network. What's the play, if-no when he does?'
>Cloudstrike finally gets a bead on his general location.
>The Deep Moors. Fantastic.

>She continues to dial him in as he calms down from the freezing coolness from the stream. He wasn't expecting a miracle cure, but it didn't harm him further.
>Lin hadn't showed up to mock him for touching something. She wasn't observing him from the shadows at least.
'They're all in my left hand. I can still move and defend myself, if needed, just may as well have a clipped wing. It doesn't help that I'm somewhat... egh medically inept.'
>As Cloudstrike begins detailing his current position, he stands up and places a pin at his current location. The giant emerald can serve as a set point, in case he starts to explore.
'Okay, so definitely Deep Moors. These Wolves... are they actually wolves, or is that a title? Just so I know what to look out for. I'll have a hard enough time trying to explain I'm NOT a Minotaur to them. Humans, myself included, have been mistaken for... heh calves before. So other than that, middle of nowhere in every direction. Got it. Still figuring over long term. There IS a being that should be able to reach me here, in theory, but either my request isn't getting to them or they're unable to right now. The only other way would be to connect with Clemency and try to get a direct line to them that way.'

>Letting his hand drip try to refrain from agitating the nettle any more, Jeff checks the time on his TacPad. He remembers it being early morning at the Village, once he arrived there.
>A spawning chamber, huh?
'Makes sense. There's no natural light in here, only what the crystal trees were giving off and they've dimmed out a few minutes ago. Only real light source is the giant emerald, and the stream.'
>He takes note of the direction of the streams flow, and decides to follow it up.
'There's only trees from my position, no topography worth taking shelter on or in. I'm going to follow the stream up. I was told at the end of it was a pond that could potentially liquefy me into a puddle of my own biomass, if I drank from it.'
>He shudders at the thought.
'There was also mention of a hidden exit, one I'd have to climb out through. If the stream originates outside of the reliquary, that could be my way out. If not, there might be more suitable shelters near the edges of the chamber.'
>He starts off upstream as fast as he could without agitating his hand or his stealth.
[1d6 = 4] <E.Sprint
[1d6 = 3]
[1d6 = 4]
>Despite the lack of surroundings around him, he does keep an eye out for anything he'd possibly consider to be a shelter.
[1d6 = 3] <E.Wilderness Survival
[1d6 = 3]
[1d6 = 5]

>>371862
>The latent aroma of Tipper helped calm the young elk down, he sat up higher with a straight posture as he recomposed himself as if she was with him now.
>He wondered where the old mare was at this time.

>>371816
>Snowfall glanced away from the Clinics front doors to the human doctor for a moment, carefully considering if he should tell Carlos to call for help.
>"The sooner Nova defeats this horrid foe the sooner she can return to helping all those in the Clinic."
>His gaze moved from Carlos to all the patients, his vision lingering on his sisters before turning to the inquiring doctor again.
"It is best you call in reinforcements. I believe Shanis' Mercenaries are around."
>His ear flicked quizzically.
"Around somewhere."

>>371871
"She is holding her own. Whether she can dispatch it by herself in a timely manner is beyond me. If only Tipper was here to care over the patients, it would free up Nova Flicker."
>He exhaled, dropping his head against the desk making all the loose appliances clatter about.
"I have only heard of such a thing. And now I wish I did not know what it looked like in the flesh."
>The Pred-Elk watched as Carlos made his way to the radio.
"Humans are otherworldly beings, and to an extent so am I and my family. Yet I can see both of us joining in the harmony of Tallus-"
>Snowfall stabbed a foreleg towards doors.
"-However that thing out there is truly unwelcomed here. It must die tonight."

>>371854
"I see. I will nonetheless keep contact to the bare minimum, better safe than sorry."
>Lont was...Not spiralling down into total abject depression anymore.
>He was still exhausted in all forms. Still emotionally drained.
>Yet he saw the light at the end of the tunnel. It is accepted Razorback are guilty of merely being ignorant of the dangers of Anti towards themselves and the Empire, and innocent of any malicious intent on using Anti too. Cadence was most likely unaffected by Anti and was just as ignorant of it as they all were. He knew when she had time she will be one of the first to study it in-depth. To help the ponies effected. It bothered him that the exact numbers of ponies was an unknown, but that too won't be a problem for long.
>And knowing all this will lead Razorback to being decontaminated and allowed entry back into the Empire, for himself to be allowed back in to continue with his help.
>Without the unwanted baggage of Anti.
>"Even seemingly good deeds will lead to more harm."
"Be safe, to you and the rest of your Host."
>His weary eyes looked up from the marching away Spireguard mare to the floating ghostly forms of the Crystal Moor Batponies that as of yet have not been noticed by anyone.
>Anyone except him.
>He gave the Batponies a knowing wink before turning his attention elsewhere.

>Putting his sword away he used his free hand to listen to the radio. Voices buzzed away at how Jeff was now missing too.
>His brow furrowed deeply at this.
*"I believe Emerald was waving around a box, no? Look for that box.*"
>The winged Operator looked towards the Lunars. Jeff would of been with them, or at least they would of seen him last if none of the other humans saw where he went.
[1d6-3 = (4-3) = 1] >E.Perception
[1d6-3 = (2-3) = -1]
[1d6-3 = (6-3) = 3]
[1d6-2 = (3-2) = 1] >H.E

>>371834
>Taken away from his studious nature considering all his questions and snooping, José would turn his head towards Shanis with a couple of blinks before offering a grateful smile.
"Ah. Appreciate the help, Miss Shanis. This is my second time using this."
>Having said that, his feet would ensure to be in the matrice as he rolled the pressure off his shoulders.
(Okay. Momento de la verdad.)
>After one long, deep inhale followed by a steady exhale, he cleared his throat to utter what he thought were the magic words to start off this new experience.
"Vortex Remnant. I wish to travel to Marequipa."

>>371819
"Usually? That's acceptable, but if I ever dream of aquatic creatures then I'm going to construct the biggest possible warhead and launch it straight into the nearest body of water."
>Swinging around with precision cut metal sheets, four of the repair tendrils halt, twitching uneasily at the chest cabin's voice breaking down.
I CAN HAVE A CRISIS WHENEVER I WANT!
>Externally groaning, quietly, Wild forces her repair systems to continue their work.
"Panic is temporary, stupidity is forever.. wait, that seems wrong. Panic is momentary, stupidity can be learned from. And internal. Or would that be eternal in this case?"

"From what I've accessed in my data nodes there are few beings or creations I would WANT to interact with, especially those categorized as other. And don't even think of setting me up on a date."
>Hand lifting higher and curling in closer to the remains of her head, the little finger stops below where the eye would have been.
"I know, but reconnecting those isn't important right now. Less than twenty percent of the head unit's lower components remain intact."
>Taking another look, the Rilvenni's still glowing core was set atop what looked like a custom pilot's seat surrounded by debris, mostly scraps of odd metals.
>While you could climb to it easily, there was enough damage that the words 'structural integrity' would probably kill Wild.

"Update: eighty-nine percent of my legs have been replaced.. maybe I should downsize some, I feel far too tall."
[1d6+14 = (6+14) = 20] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21]
[1d6+15 = (3+15) = 18]
[1d6+13 = (3+13) = 16] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6+13 = (2+13) = 15]
[1d6+13 = (3+13) = 16]
[1d6+20 = (2+20) = 22] <Tryptaran Autorestoration
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <RT-#2
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <RT-#3
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <RT-#4
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <RT-#5
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <RT-#6
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <RT-#7
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <RT-#8

>>371829
"This is definitely out of my league. I can understand four letters, one character, and what I think are two numbers, but that's it."
>Visibly playing connect the dots in her head, the Cultist nods slowly, splaying left wingclaws outwards and pulling the robe, then smoothing it with her right.
"Lann's done a lot of textile work for Lunar Guards, Starborn, but mostly us since she moved here. For example this wonderfully soft piece took her five minutes. Other than that she gets special orders from the City whenever they need protective work clothing, a particular style and diameter of rope, woven metal cables or meshing for some crazy project, that sort."
>Head raising to stare upwards, the mare freezes, crashes, and reboots in the space of ten seconds.
"...there's one thing that might help. Request a hoofheld inspection mirror, preferably white platinum or clear diamondine. They should have at least two rattling around down there somewhere. If not there's a few dozen craftsponies that can put one together."

>Airspace over Basin Village briefly illuminates in bright silver, Guillotine's pockmarked lower hull smoothly, and this time much more carefully, entering realspace from a gleaming ring.
>Gliding to a halt directly overhead at nearly 40M, a low pitched, comfortable thrum from the destroyer occurs, rolling 90 degrees left.
>Stabilizing and holding still, faint streaks of blue haphazardly wash across the armor.
*"Nae calmed they yet be, peace needest time tae heal thee Airstreams."*
>Silent for a short time, a third screen takes shape in the center above the two hardcases, the Harpy's voice deeply somber, yet wistful.
*"This vessail be thrice times thrice old tae use Mama's Tone, mineself nae hearest asince thee Ninth Fleet formed. Long afore mineself interred, shaped an' renewed aplenty t'was, piece by piece.... 'built', t'was thee word. Oft untouched mine logistics be, but farest well they yet be."*
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Intact Communication Protocols
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]

>Head craning up to study the archaic exoatmospheric vessel briefly, the Cultist's snout twitches.
"Is it just me or is there somepony talking?"

>>371884
"There is a fountain in the middle of Razorback, I do not advise bombing it. The fillies will be pretty upset if you do."
>Yes but now is NOT a good time!
"When we aren't potentially going to get murderfucked by anything is a vastly better time for a crisis, not right now!"
>She'll have to learn how to not have a crisis at inopportune times.

"You're less than a day old, you won't have to worry about me setting up dates for you for a long time."
>Pause.
"Even if you're some sort of eldritch robot thing, still."
>While I've never really touched welding gear, I knew that we'd need more than a few torches to get her up and running again.
"You'll uh... definitely need some work. All over."
>Grimacing, I looked down at the ground below.
"Eh, you're not as tall as some buildings, you're fine."

>>371864
'Histories, cultures, full pantheons of living deities on each world inhabited by sapients, descriptions, elemental and conceptual alignments of each, specific artistic styles, sciences.. limited technological excerpts. Some recordings.. equally limited explanations. Curious.'
>Examining rapidly scrolling directories, articles, then pages, the avatar's face tightens in heightening confusion.
'And incomprehensible. High brane functions interacting with unknown interdimensional waveforms. Cross references to a pangalactic feature known as skipspace. Artificially projected wavelengths between the same. Controlled interstellar travel below or above speed of light... no. No more. I am done.
Placing that last archive on the LOWEST priority until thorough explanations are obtained.'
>Tapping her chin before taking on a philosophical front leaning pose, 'Shiibo' nods to herself.
'The rest are of moderate to extreme interest. Checking.'
>Running a series of modified simulations in the background, the advanced AI frowns sharply.
'Rerculons. Neither hive mind or collectivist. A frightening species were they not peaceful. Dissimilar to... all known beings. Logic first, reason and rationale second or third, interchangeable metrics. High objectivism to violent conduct without well supported logical necessities.
Could be swayed to act in well defined parameters when exposed to reasonably logical arguments. Using one's moods and emotions was considered a substandard method of honorable interaction. Humans excluded. As partial energy-state beings they exhibited paradoxical yet rigidly defined principles, mentalities, moods, and functionality.
Tallus equines do not function similarly to Rerculons. In fact, they are.. entirely opposite. ......sssssir. I may have stumbled upon a significant cultural breakthrough. It will take some time to explore the ramifications and potential consequences.
Standard psychological predictive models for humans and equines updated.'
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]

>Sticking the heavy L-flashlight bottom on the helmet's top, then sensing it gripped firmly, sweeping its visible beam across the pool shows a perfectly flat surface.
>The loam coloration was natural due to surrounding earth leaching in over time, while the mixed sediment was long settled.
>Studying a number of heavily washed out prints, an equal number were close to 2M in diameter, the others barely 2.5M wide, and sunk in nearly 3M.
>On much closer inspection there was no debris whatsoever, not even a small leaf or pebble.
"Hey Pare, you look more like a unicorn every time I see ya! Do you get bigger and badder when engaged or is that just on the first date?!"
>Katyal cackles at the obvious physical image you were presenting, 'Shiibo' holding her face while the word SUFFERING covers her.

>Fishing the heavy crystalline device out, tapping the screen once into active status, then selecting the two functions, the surface unfolds a series of small hololiths around it while surveying the local 900M.
>A vastly scaled down gigatree, 2 types of vines, 3 miniature fruiting vines, 4 archaic ferns, 9 species of grass, 11 berry bushes or shrubs, 18 mushrooms, and 29 shrubs appear in a large external ring.
>Rotating through the specifics of each, one vine, three berries, one grass, fifteen mushrooms, and half of the shrubs were listed as either poisonous, toxic, containing hazardous elemarents, Elemarentals, or combinations of the same.
>In the center six species are displayed: house cat sized armored beetles, individual tunnels running deep under half the surrounding trees, and, unfamiliar, angular proto-termites with extended jaws the size of a standard rottweiler in giant clusters underneath every other tree.
>Two species of ants, the first 5-11" in length, the second 15-28", from drone, digger, planter, harvester, worker, guardian, warrior, noble or royal guard, and queen, were likewise under each tree, much deeper than the previous.
>A 6-toothed, potentially non-Elemarental armored wurm estimated to be 18' long was currently lying in the vines atop the center log above the den, the 3 internal eyes triangular ovals.
>High and south in a large nest was a poorly defined avian with a wingspan from 30-36', listed as either a predator or scavenger.

>Staring up for a moment, the woman shrugs, turning around to gaze up the earthen ramp.
*"I'll try to at least. Not feeling sick or ill. Yet."*
*"As stated last night, an Abomination, unique. Originally an herbivore, now thoroughly mutated beyond recognition. Those markings on the walls are not from teeth nor indicate a tail. Modified hooves are most likely."*
*"And it hasn't returned in weeks?"*
*"Three months, give or take a week. The clumping grass species here is similar to one we studied on expedition. In this region it would take that long to fully develop a root system. Had the Abomination returned numerous clumps would be dead."*
*"Unless it could fly."*
*"Doubtful. There are no landing sites or significant impacts close to the entrance. Based on the better preserved tracks I would estimate it to be from fifty to eighty tons.
...now THAT is a surprise. Raw falkite, and barely damaged! There's only five known examples in Equestria, and two of them are in Stallion... grad.... this isn't raw at all. It's been refined.. twice? And.. functional. Lonestar, please meet us out here, there is too much for me to bring back and Dul is rather limited."*
*"I thought you said it was a pile?"*
*"Yes, however I... did not know how large. The majority is Middle and Late Dynasty coins, gems, a number of trade items, but there are three quite intriguing objects here. ...Dul, you discovered this cache and committed the work to bring each piece out. Would you care to take any? ....no, I understand. ...of course, I will create an imprint once we are safely inside the vehicle."*
>Flicking a switch ahead of him, Lonestar's eyes roll.
*"All right then. Pare, Kat, if you two are done, load up please."*

>>371888
>Closing his eyes, he replies to Shiibo.
"Noted. Save the explanation for after the operation unless relevant for immediate situation."
(Wish I had Command's Operators for data analysis. Sheer amount of information is staggering.)

>Opening them after feeling the slight weight of the flashlight firmly mounted on his helmet, he looks over the nearby earth and incredibly large prints.
(Massive mega fauna... even a section would be hard pressed without specialized weaponry.)
>Hearing Katyal's snickering, he turns to face her while keeping the flashlight active and on his helmet.
"Don't compare unicorns to humans. They don't deserve that. And I hope you never need to find out that answer."

>Turning away and looking down to the tablet he had taken out and activated, he scrolls through the listed species displays.
(Equipment appears functional. High proportion of inedible plants. All fauna just as large in size standardization as flora. Subterranean scans also functional.)
>He looks upwards towards the indicated position of the wyrm, apparently just beyond the thick trunk of the mega tree serving as a roof.
(Lucky we didn't need to deal with any local animals... )

>He turns back, powering down and stowing the tablet as he steps back up the ramp of the Landbarge.
>As the radio chatter continues, Hodch's remark on a refined ore being 'functional' catches his attention.
*"Onboard."*
(Falkite... if it is 'functional' now, does that mean it can be used?)
>Once past the ramp and inside, he turns off the L-flashlight on his head, unSticks it, and clips it onto the front of his vest.
>His pack is stored into his locker along with his P90 and SPS-18.
(If there are other underground caches, scanning with the tablet may be prudent.)
>Moving to his seat, he seats himself and Sticks to it.
*"The 5CTA tablet I brought with may be able to locate more caches, if they're buried near the surface. Though I don't know how Dul found this one."*

>>371872
"Malformed don't have names and may all of them rot for what they've become!"
>After snarling the words out, the Lunar pegasus is quiet for nearly twenty seconds, flipping through heavy pages before speaking again, this time firmly neutral.
"Diplomat Marshmallow Moon is mostly regarded as an Independent regardless of her direct lineage from Princess Luna.. fourth or fifth generation descendant I believe. She prefers mediating between Ferron, Lunars, aligned, and unaligned Independents. It's rare she takes an active stance. On anything. ..other than baking mallow into funny shapes or wearing hats.
......she must've taken that last fucking crashdown without so much as leaving a hoofprint-"
>Angrily cutting herself off, Velvet returns shortly to mutter.
"In the fewest number of words possible.. yes. But I won't have the Citadel being attacked on account of your prior history, current predicamarent, negligence, failures, and whatever else might or might not have occurred.
Underworks were going to be overhauled starting next week, but they don't matter much. And Moonborn don't evacuate, they either die here or are laid to rest around the Citadel.
..only share strictly necessary information."
>Pages folding in the background, the mare sniffs several times.
"What i- ..hm. Both. Warguard and Vanguard Wolves were developed by crossbreeding more than four hundred species originating from the Old Everfree Forest. Started in the middle 25,000's. No records on which lineages were involved. We do know most of the armored, Major, Greater, noble, royal, metallic, magical, and Elemarental species were used.
Roughly a third of the earlier hybrids had specialist roles among Druids, Lunar Guardians, Arkadian Divides Ferron, two or three batpony clans, and.. that's all. Some of their descendants can be found in parts of Equestria; guards, scouts, hunters, or trackers mostly.
Stack two to five earth ponies on top of each other, then three to eight in length in the shape of a large feral canine, that's what to look for. Possibly natural or living armor covered in plants, Elemarental effects, glowing blue eyes.. and the sense of creatures that know exactly what, where, when, who, and how you are."
>Pausing for six seconds, her voice tightens harshly.
"A hand is nowhere near close to losing a wing."
>Flipping through pages again, numerous dull thuds in the background are talked over.
"Not marely details to offer here but that's Druidic from start to end. Couple of notes regarding ponds partially match that description. Don't approach, that's where flora and fauna shaping occurs.
Stream could be an underground pressure seep or from a near-volcanic upswell, there's hundreds of those in the Central Moors alone. Most of the larger Equestrian volcanoes feed out through underground tunnels towards the ocean, often push a lot of water upwards. If the water's cool then it's a seep, if warm or hot that's from an upswell."
>Tapping the screen once, the clock showed 8:04AM, slightly after Dawn.
"...shit, none of these are useful. I'm going to take precisely two risks. One, check if there's a damaged crashdown that might have been restored and simply wasn't listed in logs. Two, send somepony to jump into the Archives and see what they can find regarding Lunar Druid activities in the Deep Moors. If both turn out negative, then I have no means to aid you further.
I'll check back in... five to twenty minutes. That is if neither of us are caught."

>Taking off in a fast jog and keeping close to the stream for illumination, the ground was thoroughly rigid, harder than clay though not sticking.
>Turning around a partial bend into a widened out section, spindly clumps of green, faintly bioluminescent water grass was clustered in the middle, barely visible webs trailing off each.
>Passing close to one of the crystalline trees, the thick, cylindrical heartwood, or similar, deep within brightens fractionally, a low pitched, raspy chitter occurring well above.
>Rounding a half-bend, a wide, shallow and highly reflective pool was ahead of you, smaller emerald boulders, chunks, pieces, and hundreds of large gems scattered throughout.
>Now facing what felt like southwest, the pool's center was a 4 to 6M tall cone, water exiting it in a constant stream.

>>371879
>Receiving no further answer from the Spireguard's leadmare, the Crystal forces scatter into mixed squadruns with no apparent basis on presumed rank, species, weaponry, armor, or specialties.
>Disorganized wouldn't be the correct word, and chaotic was a stretch.

>Noting six of the Crystal Moorites staring at you, several more surrounding them speak.
>....which you couldn't hear or recognize.
>In less than eight seconds a raging scuffle breaks out between three apparent crystalline plated militia and, presumably, an officer covered by an ultralight weave.
>Which doesn't end well for the last mare.
>Plenty of frontal hoof stomps, headbutts, fruit-eater wingclaw 'punches', shoulder smashes, snapping rear kicks, and bodyslams are rapidly delivered.
>Ending with the more official looking crystal-batpony savagely mauled, armor dented, and thoroughly unconscious on a superior float two feet above stone, the three flip middle wingclaws at each other.
>While no blood was spilled, there was deep consternation among the crystal-unicorns, deliberately staring in any direction, other than their volatile charges.

>Surveying the dwindling number of Lunars south, each making their own appreciation to the lances and spears, there was no sign of Jeff, his weapons, identifiable helmet or face mask.
>Likewise there wasn't a single sheen of whitesteel in view, the closest approximation coming from hundreds of streamers and ribbons adorning weapons.

*"Ain't a white box around here."*
*"Nothing in view north."*
*"Or gray, platinum, silver, steel. East is clear."*
*"I've got Jack and shit, but Jack's starting to fall asleep. Anyone got smelling salts?"*
*"Don't do that, seriously."*
*"Not even a pebble or leaf south."*
*"Zero tracks, skid marks, hoof, boot, or shoe prints-"*
*"No clay, mud, or dirt either."*
*"Got no traces north."*
*"Emerald's been missing how long?"*
*"Little over three hours now."*
*"Jeff's been missing less than five."*
*"Fuck. Anyone with mounted radios and comms take 'em off and start checking. Step by step, run through each band for distant spikes, traffic, network signals, the whole works."*
*"What if we set up a repeating signal?"*
*"And let the orange fucks that AREN'T currently hostile know where we are?"*
*"...right. Nevermind."*

>>371883
>Raising her free wing and flicking it in a human-like dismissive motion, Shanis offers a dry expression.
"Don't mention it. Been asking Naliyna for months now on putting instructions of how to use the translocation system. Can't blame her though. She does more for Razorback every hour than I sign off in a week."

>The dull metallic eye rotates again, this time counterclockwise.
>Pitching forward a degree, then sinking down into the translocation matrice, the map zooms in to display a southwestern oceanic locale.
>A long, capsule shaped town roughly 500M west from a thin, spread out jungle-lined coast featured well organized, short, one story buildings arranged in rows.
>The appearance was remarkably similar to the top level of a grounded ocean superfreighter, only much more inhabited.
"Nonspecific location request accepted. Random destination chosen. VIP passage granted to Shoalbarge."

>Catching Starglow raising a hoof in farewell, streaks of every metallic color you knew, and dozens more inbetween, flick by.
>Arriving on a flat, hard steel deck without any sense of motion, the air was fairly cool albeit salt-laden, the surroundings quite familiar:
>Orderly lines of barely waist height, single pony stalls and stands, mostly comprised of thin wood slats, a few having bamboo trim, in front of small, barely lit warehouses behind each.
>Dimly colored earth ponies, the vast majority being mares due to their rounded snouts and far more appealing visual characteristics, also a bit shorter than the few you'd seen in Razorback Fortress, wandered with utterly carefree attitudes from stall or stand to the next.
>Scents of grilled arepas, roasted ensalada, cheese enpanadas, gallo pinto, feijoada, pastel de choclo, fritos platanos, and pico de gallo waft about, half of the stands specializing in one specific dish, though you quickly realize there were no meat scents in the air.
>Proudly, and visibly loud, signboards proclaimed what was being cooked at each, the dialect an easy to read form of Simplified Spanish.
>Or as a few helpful ones noted: Common Spaneigh.
>Half of the remaining stands and nearly all of the trade stalls were materials: bagged charcoal, driftwood of numerous varieties, organic creature plates, and incredible selections of bright, neutral, dim, or gleaming sea shells.
>A few stalls held only produce:
>Sacks of maize, whether on cob, sheaved, or ground, whole, preservedm, and glass-like canned chiles, bundled coca leaves, chayote, sacks of jicama, large glass canisters of over twenty tomatillo species, stacks of cilantro, sacked mama and papa cribolla, pickled and whole purpara, then ulluco in colors that definitely weren't native to your homeworld.
>Tiny to giant cassava roots, shoots, clusters, and seedlings of thirty varieties, cactus leaves and fruits from hundreds of species, at least a hundred tomato variations, about the same number of squash, then pumpkins, oca, yacon, achojcha, then callaloo, amusingly named as 'efflo'.
>Colored papayas ranging from tiny to basketball sized, guava berries or fruits, barely identifiable feijoa, profuse strains of pozzifloras, around forty bola verde, thirty plus avocados, pineapples both archaic and exotic, five dragonfruits, six chañar, nine carob, twenty barberries, ten fuchsia, insanely packed clusters of myrtle, nine separate yerba flowers and fruits, more sweetsops and soursops than you could name, then three strains of sumac round out the identifiables.
>Stacks of tightly woven, sacked and dried quinoa, dozens of beans, ten long grained rice species, taro, a perplexing array of wide leafed grasses, swamp grains, peanuts, Brasil nuts, sorghum, then further legumes, nuts, and more that weren't familiar.
>Large glass canisters with bronze or steel lids containing rica-rica, pingo-pango, canelo, and hundreds more spices, the minority familiar to you, seemed to be the major takeaways,
"Hello hu`um!"
>A deep, teenaged mareish Spaneigh voice from behind you speaks out, the second word stretched into 'hyu-oohm'.
>Clopping into view, one decidedly average mare barely 3'6" tal, unusually a dark, reflective brown with a dirty gray mane and tale.
>Friendly burnt red pupils glance you up and down, eyes closing merrily as a broad smile creases her entire face.
<Spaneigh> "Enns'k'ta vul-nal!"
>You recognized the up-down phrasing, sharp pronunciations, and linguistics as a late Mayan Era dialect translated into a comfortably Spanish-simplified language that you had no issues translating, but had no idea what the words meant.
<Spaneigh> "Welcome to Shoalbarge! Fifth biggest trading villa in Marequipa, in case you haven't been here before."
>Eyes opening to gaze up at you, both of the younger mare's ears fold backwards, flicking rapidly in reasonable excitemarent.
<Spaneigh> "I'm Sallinas Pren, greeter and sometime courier. No relation to the Pyren or Poran familes among the Ferron clans. What brings you here, and can I help you find anything?"

>>371890
>Cloudstrike appeared to have had an issue with a unicorn batpony... baticorn? Baticorn existing. He's heard of Malformed before, saved for true taboo oddities. Most ponies seemed to feel that they were not worth existing, in the first place.
>Mercy acted oddly hostile toward the mare, as well, THAT entire hostile assistance situation aside.
>Obviously a batpony unicorn was considered a taboo pariah, even more interesting she was capable of acquiring a council position.
>Marshmallow on the other hand, Cloudstrike doesn't bring up any new info on the Lunar descendant. Was Razorback considered an aligned independent? No, definitely a dependent. And she didn't like dealing with mercenaries.
>It was an odd condition to force her into being their new upstart maretriarch.
>Jeff internally sigh in relief for the small leniency.
'Thank you. No, I don't want to put the Citadel in any jeopardy. If you don't wish to hear, I will save it for Razorback. I know Clem and a few others will trust me at my word, and carry the warnings along without much else to hang onto.'
>Almost feeling a little silly for asking, Velvet replies with a clear and detailed description of the Wolves.
>They sounded like something out of ancient mythology. Elemental giant wolves able to see your entire being.
'Okay. I'll definitely know when I see one then. Thank you for clarifying.'
>The awkward silence on the other line, along with the sharp intake was more than enough for him to take his wording back.
'My apologies, poor comparison.'
>As the pain begins to radiate through his palm again, he gets a good warning on the pond. He'll stay away from it, unless needed. No wonder Lin had challenged him to drink from it.
'No pond, got it. Also the water's ice cold, so it's a seep. I'll follow it to the end, and progress from there.'
>Checking the time, having just under four hours until it got real dangerous in here, Cloudstrike makes some plans over the network.
'You're risking a lot for me, Cloudstrike. I truly appreciate it, even if you come up empty hoofed. I'll try and get my bearings in here0 and try to find some shelter. If we don't hear from either in thirty... good luck to both of us.'

>The connection going quiet for now, Jeff starts to follow the stream flow upward.
>He's got less than four hours to either escape or find somewhere to hide and wait out the bigger fish in this underground pond.
>Gotten tired of slinging the Gepard under his shoulder he sticks it lengthwise onto his right side in line with his pack. He could have done without the heavy rifle, but ditching it in here might not have been the best idea.
>Other than being a bit lopsided, it freed up his good hand for now.
>Taking a couple bends and turns following the lit body of water, he finally comes across the end- or starting point.
>Opening up in to a pool with a tall cone-shaped protrusion in the middle, water flowing out of the top like a natural fountain.
>This must be the seep Cloudstrike mentioned.
>Realizing he hadn't walked that far to reach it, it meant he clearly hasn't hit the edge of the chamber.
>A little discouraged, his only option now is to venture out and into the crystal trees and in the darkness.
>He checks his heading on the TacPad, deciding to continue in a soutwest direction until he is stopped by a wall. From there he'll follow it clockwise until he can find a place to hold out in.
>If he's going to leave what he hoped was the safety of the stream and light, he needs to do something about the nettle first.
>Approaching the pool the seep resided in, he dips his hurting palm into the water again for some quick relief while he thinks over his options.
>Trying to pluck them out is out. He's too tired to concentrate enough to remove them conveniently or consistently.
>Not really coming up with any other method or tool that he thinks could reliably remove them.
>Damn this nasty druidic nettle.
>...
>He has that one ability he could try. The one Silver bestowed upon him, along with the the others. He's only practiced it a handful of times to get the hang of it. He recalls it can deflect attacks of Druidic nature, among other types and extends outward instantly from his center.
>If he can't pluck out the nettle from outside, maybe he can push them out from the inside?
>Moving away from the water, he finds a clearing nearby with over twenty meters of space.
>Not too bothered by the darkness, still within the shallower veil, he stops at the center and kneels down. He reaches for his medical pouch to pull out the wound pad from before as well as the smaller roller bandage. If it's a clean removal or not, the bandages will help. Not to mention the Dusk Film. It's more than dark enough in here for that to kick in and start healing him.
>Here's hoping doing this in here won't upset anything. Or anyone. Nothing's happened, so far. It's just a barrier, it'll go away after a bit.
>Jeff extends his left arm out halfway while bracing the wrist with his right hand and bends his palm upward so the barrier will extend flush across the back of his hand; the nettle facing outward and away from him.
>Taking a deep breath in, he mentally prepares to slow the barrier down once it activates so the nettle doesn't get ripped out of his hand too fast.
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <E.Iron Will
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
>He activates the barrier, picking its starting point at his center. Prepared for however it affects the nettle.
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <Anti-Surge
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]

>>371885
>Clemency nods at the cultist mare
"Yeah, that would make sense."
>He waits for the mare to seemingly come back from her stupor
"An inspection mirror, clear diamondine or platinum. Also, got it."
>Thinking for a moment to remember all the info given to him, including the passphrase for the Citadel, he looks up at the cultist mare
"Oh, before I forget! What's your name?"

>Looking up, Clemency again sees the Guillotine enter realspace and maneuver towards them
*"They should be healed sooner or later. As long as no other disturbances occur."*
>The little one is even older than the Guillotine and seems like its language is an older dialect
>Even if we did know harpy, it still would've given us issues
>Looking over to the mare, Clemency checks the volume of his radio before answering
"Is the "talking" a little hard to understand with the language it uses? You might be hearing the Guillotine."
>For emphasis, Clemency points up towards the ship
"She might help out with the glyphs but I'm still going over to Lann's."

>>371854
>The radio chatter from the rest of Razorback finally registered with Clem
>Jeff and Emerald's missing?
>The last time he saw Emerald was during the battle yelling at her box and warning against the use of radios
>Jeff though, he was sure he went with them through the gateway then back
>Last time he was seen was at the spear wall memorial
>While he gave the memorial a salute fit for fallen pilot's, Jeff took one of those scarring blades
>Clemency left him alone out of respect but he didn't expect him to go missing
>Turning to the mare, Clem gives her a farewell wave
"I'll be back soon."

>>371893
>Walking away, he navigates through the village towards Lann's shop
>During the walk, Clemency continues listening in to the radio chatter
>Both of them are now completely missing
>No tracks or traces
>Now he's getting concerned
>Clemency keys into his mic, checking all radio bands
*"Jeff, this is Clemency. Status?"*
>He made sure to repeat the message a couple times before switching bands
>To make extra sure, Clemency takes out his personal Moon Orb
>He uses it trying to locate Jeff's orb and contacts him
*"Jeff, this is Clemency? Status...where did you go?"*

>>371893
>As Lont slowly walked around aimlessly while listening to the chatter from his radio, he took care not to get close to anyone or anything, giving them all wide berths.
>Movement. Violent movement was happening in his periphery. And it was coming from Crystal Host' direction.
>He turned his head and bore witness to an invisible beatdown. It made him stop and stare, he was utterly confused by it.
>It was for but a moment however, and with a headshake he returned to acting as someone who couldn't see the Crystal Moor Batponies.
>"I don't know what the hell that was about."
>Nor could he do anything to help, for it would blow the Batponies cover and he would contaminate the victim with Anti. He would just have to leave the poor mare to be healed by somepony else.

>The Operator clicked his tongue upon seeing the Lunar's behaviour. It piqued interest and he made up his tired mind.
>He marched towards the Lunarites. The need for an answer to this mystery gave him a boost of energy, enough to straighten his back and stop his wings from dragging across the ground of the Basin.

>Jeff (and Emerald) disappeared. He was with the Lunar ponies. He was scarring himself. He was right under their noses when he disappeared. Yet they seem nonplussed by his absence.
>"Surely they must have taken notice of Razorback looking for our missing members?"
"Excuse me."
>He called out to the closet Lunarite before stopping. Keeping a good 5 metre distance.
>Should he tell them that Razorback is Anti contaminated? Perhaps it was for the best. Why should one ally of theirs be in the know and not the other? This of course relied on them not knowing about that already, he thought dryly.
"Have you seen Jeff? He was last seen with your group not 10 minutes ago?"

>>371898
>Dazed, José blinked several times as his body refused to move until all those streaks of colors faded away.
>He promptly exhaled sharply and sagged his posture the momarent only the tropical sights encompassed his vision.
>It might be a simple trick of the mind who's not used to teleportation.

>Taking a second to compose himself once more, he properly took in all the sights he was surrounded in, taking tentative steps to get a full panorama.
"Woah~"
>It's as if he somehow found some sort of portal back to his reality, only enhanced to a ludicrous degree
>Even with all the dangers this world may bring, it sure can provide with unmatched beauty.

>Catching himself from mentally gushing any further, he was about to start checking out the various stalls until the friendly voice called out to him.
>He promptly turned around and smiled earnestly, practically raiding joy at hearing his mother tongue in such a warm, inviting locale.
<Spaneigh> "Greetings, amicable Pren. It's a pleasure to meet you. I came here to learn, make friends and find opportunity."
>He was incredibly tempted to outright pet her head, fingers wiggling on his sides.
<Spaneigh> "Could you please tell me about Shoalbarge? Maybe walk around and show me some points of interest around these parts?"

>>371887
"Fountains are too small and vital, therefore I will not damage it. If there are no sufficient ponds available, then a medium stream or small river will suffice."
IT HAD BETTER BE!
"Shut up.
According to my previous environmarental scans there are no hostiles large or close enough to injure you. I will double check to be sure."
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Arcanum Sensors Array
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Omni-Sensor Arrays: Close Range Scan
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]

>Hearing the inside voice fully melting down, it stops long enough to crack.
THIS IS THE PERFECT TIME! STOP TELLING ME WHAT NOT TO DO!
"This is inane. We are the same existential being. Cease being a pain in, on, and around our collective flanks or I will silence each and every component allowing you to speak."
>Swinging around a single tendril to, probably, stare at you, Wild's external speakers rumble briefly.
"Fine, but I will hold you to those words."
>While you couldn't see them, the electrical cables sparking below had finally ceased.
"I'm trying. But if a certain annoyance continues her resistance then the first bomb will be lodged in her face."
>Gazing around from the much too tall hand, and realizing you were at Wild Ride's chin... there were definitely large scale problems that hadn't been taken into account for a bipedal transport.
"Mom, the top of my head unit was precisely twenty meters of height, excluding antennae, which makes me a far larger target. My skin is from one to two-point-one millimeters thick, meaning external armor integrity is minor. My hull, endoskeletal structures, and motivation systems are adequate yet can be degraded and destroyed with relative ease due to their size.
I am much too tall to mareneuver effectively. I have few means to retaliate, which includes BREAKING EVERYTHING FROM MY HANDS TO MY SHOULDERS after a few strikes.. and a small cannon with limited range. Among other weaknesses, those three are concerning.
Should I reduce my height by five meters, my armor and internals can be reinforced by approximately thirty percent. That is why I am calculating the necessary modifications to downsize. And before you say the cabins require a specific amount of space, the interior size of each can be safely reduced by fifty-five percent.
Update: I have REPLACED all necessary interfaces, cables, systems, and biomechanical components throughout my legs.. excluding armor. Now attempting to... I don't have a word for this yet. Would you like to return to the cabin, or stretch your legs?"
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <Sensory Node #2: Ratio Scaling
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <Sensory Node #3: Ratio Scaling
[1d6+14 = (6+14) = 20] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+15 = (2+15) = 17]
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16]
[1d6+13 = (5+13) = 18] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6+13 = (5+13) = 18]
[1d6+13 = (1+13) = 14]
[1d6+20 = (3+20) = 23] <Tryptaran Autorestoration
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <RT-#2
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <RT-#3
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <RT-#4
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <RT-#5
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <RT-#6
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <RT-#7
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <RT-#8

>>371889
>Nodding, 'Shiibo' steps aside into a desk platform and reduces her avatar's size by half.
'Understood. ...insufficient cultural and cross-species data available to continue refining predictive algorithms, returning to human-interfaction dispute simulations.'
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]

>Performing a rapid gunbelt, vest, and pouch check, the woman spins around, tossing a rough grin at you.
"Just keep acting like one, that'll attract either the cutest super-genius, softest snuggle friend, or the prettiest walking war crime around. Maybe you'll get real lucky and find one that's all three!"
>Glancing up, Katyal shrugs to herself after a few seconds, strolling back towards the hatch and around you as she walks up the ramp.
*"Hodch, couple background flickers and distortions here. Can't tell what, or when. Know what it is?"*
*"-ome of these coins ha- what? Yes, ten seconds please. A few of these have seals. Not the sapient and adorable pinniped variety. Dynasty City-State seals, noble and royal both, mint marks, years, and their damned engrammatic language. Rather unusual. Then again there aren't marely examples in Equestria anywhere.
That one is a Coldlands neytarm, not a threat. Scavenger, minor nuisance category, will flee from loud noises.
Veyurms are the original species, most of Tallus had fifty variants or more. Frequent and long distance underground travelers, not so much on land. Large numbers spread on boats, both water and sky, some survived river and ocean traversal on logs, and for the rare Air Elemarental ancestors, the Airstreams. Dusk Strider records state some of the Harpies, native, Extra-Planar, and Otherworld, kept them as companions. A few still do as they are easy to train and not picky.
Their descendants are known as wurms. You know them as having eight, twelve, or sixteen blades, stone or metal, protecting three, six, or nine eyes. The majority are considered degenerate subspecies due to mutation and surviving in suboptimal conditions. Nearly all have an Elemarental alignmarent. Feral and destructive without exception."*
*"Meaning the one around here isn't degenerate?"*
*"Correct. I must advise leaving it be, their numbers are unknown but presumably threatened."*
*"Hey, I'm all for keeping native populations safe, you know that!"*
*"Does that exclude the Bronze Guardians?"*
*"....looooow shot there, spikehead. True, but still. Damn."*

>Trying to match the wurm's position on the underside without an indicating distance showed clustered growths on the dead tree where bark had long since fallen or rotted off.
>Sweeping flashlight beam across each one, they looked to be fairly large asymmetrical burls, without holes to indicate pest damage.

*"A.. what tablet? Some kind of detection alchemical or drug?"*
*"No, a crystal device in service with biotechnicians, armorers, explorers, surveyors, scavengers, and the Underground's Pathfinders. I did toy with one some time back, has several functions quite similar to what the OT-3 did."*
*"Good, great, or amazing?"*
*"The second since there's a 6CTA undertaking trials right now. Better clarity than the previous model, multiple language translations, and, as always, quite durable. Exorbitant cost however, they were sixty thousand Bits each when introduced. Perhaps the price has dropped by now.
I would suggest keeping it on hand, but now is the best time to travel. Most creatures are either settling in, finding a safe location to sleep, not quite awake, or leaving.
Miss Dul, how did you find these? ...........really? ....Of course, the simplest methods are usually the best to use no matter how complicated a situation is. ....no, I thank you, this is highly interesting.
She patrolled the surface in a clockwise spiral outwards for threats, went around, up, then into the trees. Dul then explored underground, starting with the outer roots and finishing at the taproot. Two of the local.... antilar colonies guarded their nests, the rest did not seem to view her as a threat or take notice.
This tree however grew atop a large rectangle, sinking it deep underground. I know the shape well; heavily built trade containers used from the Early to Late Dynasty Eras. Quite difficult to break those damned locks. Could be any number of materials but it is too deep to excavate and I am not about to initiate a teleport without an absolute necessity.
.....Dul describes the material as hard, able to bend greatly without shattering, and caused a buzzing sensation when she attempted to phase through, but did not cause harm nor hinder her efforts. Two cycles, rather, two hours was spent bringing objects to the surface between further patrols as she is unable to carry more than... four, perhaps five pounds during continuous solid-phasing."*

>Settling her kit bag into the upright locker, Katyal leans over to push the UP button.
*"We're in and down navy man."*
*"Just say hatch sealed."*
>Lounging onto the chair next to the ramp as it closes, she snickers as a potent EM field accompanied by peculiar low pitched whines emanate from the Landbarge's subframe.
*"Got it. Say, if I paint a bunch of cute seals on this thing will it swim faster?"*
*"...please don't. .....shouldn't need seatbelts this time, if Green Man got his calculations right and tuning to spec. "*

>Finding the revised, actual seat rather comfortable, and highly adjustable, a solid holographic display in the center unfolds, showing the OT-4's current state in exacting detail.
>Lofting upwards to remain at 2M off ground for ten seconds, the Landbarge twists around in a smooth 180 turn, pitching back five degrees, then skims up the ramp with barely any sensation of gravity or speed.
*"Damn dude, this is smoother than.. words I probably shouldn't say out loud."*
*"Good. Also purrs like a sleepy Moor cat. Can't change the screens back there much, let me know if you want 'em facing a certain direction."*
*"Eh, I'll take the passenger side once we stop."*
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11] <M.ExoTech Optronic Particle Scanner
[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12]
[1d6+8 = (2+8) = 10]

>>371919
>A twinge of disgust crosses his face as Katyal leaves with her parting jab.
"Pairing with a pony would be the opposite of luck. Misfortune, which this world has enough of already with humanity on it."
>He shakes his head and turns back towards his tablet.

>Multitasking between the tablet's display and listening to Hodch on the radio, he gives a long look towards where the apparent Wurm was resting.
(Best not to interfere with local wildlife then. Unclear just what will upset the Druidic factions that likely claim these locations and species. Assuming they even have any logic beyond their nature obsession.)
>He exhales in an attempt to loosen his brow and consider something other than Druids.

>Leaning back in the appreciably more comfortable seat, he manifests his unchristened graviton weapon in his hand to stare at it.
>Hodch's explanations providing commentary that piques a potential option.
*"I have... a weapon that may be able to bore a path to or into the container. If it's within subterranean scanning range of the tablet, I should be able to plot an accurate shot. Situation permitting, it's something to consider. Would allay the need for constant phasing from Dul."*

>Glancing up as the hatch seals, he watches the holographic display of the Landbarge's new ascent.
>Instinctively bracing for a sensation of movement or weight that never came, his shoulders take a second longer than normal to relax.
*"Impressive. I can only imagine the logistical cost of having to maintain the repulsor systems for this, but the ride is smooth."*
>Squeezing the grip of his conceptual weapon, he looks down at it once more.
(The weight of this weapon and the weight of a human's intent held in my hand. I'm no Oppenheimer or Leskinen, but this feels... only a few steps below. Need to ensure I don't contribute to further destabilization of Tallus' cultural ecosystem while somehow integrating into it. Need to check possible factions, if I survive. Ones capable of handling such potential power.)
>He closes his eyes and cocks his head while running a thumb over the containment chamber of the device.
(Fundamental strength, inherent power, discerning usage... dragons? Potentially accessible. Better option than Minotaurs at least. All this just to avoid erasure by an arbitrary god.)

>>371904
"Please do so, I have enough problems trying to find a replacemarent. .......have a small piece of news for you: Lunar Councilmare Vestal Gardenia of New Canterlot was listed as comatose... little over two hours ago. She has no family there, relatives in Stalliongrad ar-...... Starborn or not, all further details are classified."
>Letting out a sharp exhale, Cloudstrike can be heard sorting through rough paper sheaves.
"Wouldn't suggest trying to bribe or make friends with them either. Few scattered reports from Ferron subclans.. Vanguard and Warguard strains get real pissed when offered food. More I read, less I want to remember.
...think first, act second, apologize later."
>Hoof stomps and shuffling in the background occur, heavy doors closing, then a low, barely recognizable voice speaking.
"Half? No, I've been locked in here since the first few Maniples were distracted. The Medical Wing was evacuated but... yes, get them checked out. Send anypony else straight to... I... wouldn't advise it, but if they refuse slash a few throats. Gut one if you feel like it. If they won't listen to reason, make 'em suffer. .....no, I'm closing this place down. Go on ahead, I'll be out of here once these are set."
>Metallic locks shattering, the mare snarls aloud for a few seconds, spits, then is quiet until a door slams, speaking in a harsh subtone.
"Look, if keep the damage from none to minimal at most and you won't ever hear my voice again. I'm not keen to go on reliction duty. Keep that in mind.
First of rule of survival in a hostile region: a reasonably defensible location is worth more than having unlimited food and water without shelter, and.. did you say 'the water is ice cold'? That's... not possible. ...then again the central Deep Moors regions are basically unknown. Study that when or time permits.
......also, don't make contact on the Lunar Network unless it's from or to a specific individual that you know. Most connections are registered in the Archives, just not all of 'em. Winging off for now-"

>A loud click of hoof on stone confirms the dismissal, leaving the Moon Orb firmly silent.
>Making out what you could from the screen, on approaching the geyser-like seep it was clearly shaped at some point in the distant past, no projections or sharp edges, though appeared entirely natural.
>Feeling your exposed hand chilling slowly in air, the locale was nearly freezing.
>The same image of the unusual trio flickers across your consciousness, defending their home from an invasion that was much harder to recall now, fuzzy and barely recognizable.
>Directing the ruthlessly efficient hybrid shield to expand under firm control, streaks of unrecognizable agony jolt through the entirety of palm, fingers, and thumb, much faster than you can process.
>Maintaining nearly solid willpower as the barrier streaks into its predefined shape, as you mostly disconnect from your own body, intensely bright blue energies splash forwards, spraying the pool, stream, and ground to both sides in a wide cone.
>Where the blue touches, water immediately flash boils, chunks of earth vaporize before chain detonating, and miniature airbursts rebound throughout the Reliquary.
>Both the pain and erratic surging had been removed, but loud chatters, hisses, and mixed, low roars in the distance are immediately followed by an extremely high pitched, keening shriek far to your right.
[1d6 = 6]

>>371926
>Jeff does a mental spit take at the news Cloudstrike had just divulged to him.
>Vestal was a Lunar Council member? Why does he never recall seeing her around...
>He goes all the way back, back to his induction hearing. Most he knew by name and face.
>The one earth pony on the voting board, that down-voted him and left immediately after he was accepted.
>Shit, no wonder he doesn't remember her. Either they're paths have failed to cross, or she has actively avoided him this entire time.
>And he gave her so much of his bullshit, yesterday. That interaction was already plenty bad on his part, now he'd had done it to a superior. Why didn't she identify herself at the beginning? He would have kept his mouth shut real tight then.
>How could she also be a Chairmember of the Councilerge? Seems like a conflict of interest.
>It ultimately didn't matter. His actions to her were wrong, now matter who she is. Hopefully, he can get out of here and help make amends.
'I see. Thank you for sharing that. Here's hoping she recovers.'
>Taking in the latest info on the Wolves, the conversation shifts from him.
>Cloudstrike was conversing with someone else.
>Quite dubiously forceful, things were going. Yet again the situation on the Citadel was far worse than what he was presently dealing with. Whatever it took to get everyone moving, he figures.
>She then addresses him again, and he gets the warning.
'Understood. I have a short call list I can trust, anyway.'

>As the barrier activates, any attempt to slow it down was futile.
>It generated so quickly, he barely registers the nettle popping out of his hand. Before he knows it, it was over. His hand was freed, if bleeding a little.
>But despite having cleared the area around him, the ability had traveled far enough to affect the pool. Water instantly converted to steam, and loose earth explodes. What sounded like a barrage of fireworks echoes through the chamber.
>That was the least of his problems. The following uproar of unseen creatures obviously reacting to the commotion was only the beginning.
>His small victory turned into a shorter race against the clock.
"Shhhhould have seen that coming."
>Wasting no time, Jeff stows the bandage roll and opens up the wound pad. For now he adheres it against his hand to stop any bleeding and sterilize it. He'll get his hand back into the gauntlet once it's healed up. For now he keeps a grip on the wound pad, until the Dusk Film cleans up whatever remained.
>Standing up, Jeff places a marker on his current location. The seep would make a good reference point, as he navigates. Checking his heading on the TacPad and sticks to his earlier plan. Head SouthWest and keep going until he hits a wall. Hopefully he can lose whatever he managed to piss off.
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7] <E.Stealth
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <TacPad: GPS
[1d6 = 5] <E.Sprint
[1d6 = 4]
[1d6 = 5]
>As he moves forward, Jeff flips down his Combi-Goggles and sweeps the area ahead of him in both night vision and thermal.
[1d6 = 1] <M.Perception
[1d6 = 2]
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <AdvNVG
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <AdvThermals

>>371907
>Feeling his Moon Orb activate, he expected Cloudstrike with an update. Instead, it was Clemency!
>Still on the move, he response back to his friend mentally.
*'Clem, great timing! I'm in a hell of a pickle. First off-'*
>He recites his current grid coordinates, same he gave Cloudstrike.
*'That is where I am right now, also underground at an unknown depth. Middle of nowhere, Deep Moors central. Thousand of miles to the nearest matrice, hundreds from anything civilized. Share it with the others, locals, that satellite of your's, whatever helps get the ball rolling. I can't divulge who or how I was taken from the Village for everyone's safety, so just trust me what I have to say from here on out.'*
>Jeff pauses as he huffs through the chamber. He attaches his deathmask as he continues on.
*'I've already got a handler on the Citadel checking if there's a crash pod available for me but I'm not holding my breath. I can't get a hold of Anon, his iron ball isn't responding. He got partially spaghetti'd earlier, so maybe he's healing from that still. Need to check on him pronto. Other than maybe Hodch, I can't think of anyone or thing that can get to me urgently. I've got more, so get something to write on. By the way, what's going on at the Village? Anyone else disappear, or is it just me?'*

>>371907
"Stellar Claws."
>Left set of wingclaws lifting, the Cultist flicks them from side to side, the sweeping motions creating small, dark nebulae lit by tiny moonbeams.
>Gazing fondly at the esoteric displays, she turns a highly scrunched snout towards you, motioning at the web-like scars across her face and wings, lips pulling back in a warm smile.
"But you can call me Skitter. Used to be real stupid as a filly, always running around without a care in the world. That's what caused these. Got tangled in an abandoned Spectral orb-weaver nest and couldn't get out for a couple hours. Spent the whole time staring at the Oceans Above.
Might not be as dumb as I once was, but I'm certainly not pretty like modern mares these nights.. unless you happen to like that sort of thing."

>Frontal weapons brightening quickly, then darkening, Guillotine's point defense systems glow in sequential measures, though her transmitted voice is calm.
*"Canst only hope 'til then. Awash they were 'tween hybrid chiropteran, pegasi, Germane, an' mineself's flows. Voices tae speak they havest... somber, forlorn, an' quieted.
Simple codices translated, ye grace. Transcribed they not be yet. Mama's Tone be not concise nor modernized tae Common Equine. Atime mineself needeth tae register meanings."*
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Intact Communication Protocols
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]

>Pursing her lips twice, Stellar Claws lifts a hoof at you, then gazes back up at the archaic Harpy Destroyer, left eyebrow raised humorously.
"Yep, real similar to the First Independent League cloud-town pegasi dialect, but the tones and inflections don't match."
>Flicking her right wing out in causal acceptance, the batmare snickers quietly.
"I'll be here. Wish I could talk to her.. but watching is neat, too."

>Striding towards Lann's formal shop, the second building east from the north entrance, informal squadruns of Crystal ponies, Conclavists, Kingdomites, Imperials, and small numbers of Crystal Minotaurs march south towards the fountain.
>Receiving a puzzling number of passing hoof, wing, and massive hand salutes, it was apparent they recognized you as both an ally and a welcomed friend.
>Entering the cleared out trade post, there wasn't a single bolt of cloth in sight on the tables and racks the chunky earth mare regularly kept track of.
>Reaching her low, rather normal height counter and spotting a brightly glowing Flawless Moon Orb on the second shelf, Jeff's transmission was spotty and fragmented.

>>371934
>Stellar Claws
>Apt given the little astral flourish she does
>Clemency didn't even notice the scars on her face until she motioned towards them
>There not thaaaat bad
"Well, considering who my mate is..."
>Clemency then shrugs and flashes a sheepish smile

>Looking up at the Guillotine, is relieved when the Guillotine translates the runes from the hardcases
>However, the Guillotine also needs the understand what the message is
>Maybe it's like reading very VERY old English
*"I appreciate the help. When ever you get it transcribed, contact me..."*
>Whatever these hardcases say, they better help against the Constructs
>These ones at the Moors are the only ones that can communicate as far as Clem knows and at least they learned how to make agreements
>He hopes there's still a Citadel by the time Clemency is able to get up there

>>371932
>Passing all the groups, Clemency does make an effort to salute them back
>As he enters Lann's store, he sees how empty it is compared to the last time he was there
>No doubt part of the evacuation before the battle
>Spotting the Flawless Moon Orb, his own responds back
>"Jeff! Finally!"
>Clemency quickly focuses on Jeff's message but notes the spottiness
>If he's that far out for comms between orbs to be scrambled, the he's really far away from us
>Through it all, Clemency does hear coordinates
>Trying to piece it together, Clemency flicks his visor down and access the M-S.O.L.G
>With what he hears, he begins to move the satellite over the coordinates he can make out
>The rest of the message only concerns Clemency more
>He thinks he heard "Deep Moors" and he's far from civilization
>The rest is him talking about what he's done
>Hearing about something to write on, Clemency does get a notepad and pen out but speaks to Jeff
*"Before you start, communications is spotty for you. Gotta make sure I get those coordinates. Repeat those grid coordinates."*
>That one statement of trust was concerning but Clem is going to have to roll with it for now
*"Ok, trust. It took a good moment for the groups to notice you AND Emerald missing. We have no trace of you two. For the armies, they seem to be forming back into their factions but that's all I know."*
>If he was in a dangerous situation, he can only hope that he stays safe
*"Remember your SERE training now. I've got the M-S.O.L.G en route and I'll get the message about you out."*
>Clemency then waits and listens to Jeff's reply