PPC Department of Floaters, SOD

Mission #4 - The Longing (MLP: FiM continuum)

Continuum: My Little Pony: FiM
Fic title: The longing
Reference: FFN
Notes: Nnnnnope!

The TARDIS rattled and shook as it materialised, the dimensional rectifier evidently not fully repaired yet.

The Fisherman rushed for the door before pulling up. “Disguise!” he said to himself, heading back to the console and jabbing at a few buttons. In a flash he was no longer humanoid but had taken on the form of an animated unicorn, with grey fur and an orange mane. “Cool! I’m a pony!” Picking up the bag in his mouth, he trotted outside.

The scene that greeted him was Princess Celestia’s throne room. The Princess herself was standing in front of an uncharacteristically frightened Twilight Sparkle.

Her long hair continued to flow even at the absence of wind, her golden armor glittered the sunrays through the chamber while her mane moved to a point of shadowing the trembling unicorn before she scrapped her face across Twilight`s cheek. The violet unicorn did not respond, too afraid of what would happen before hearing the princess gelid breaths.

“What in the world?” the Fisherman mused to himself. “I think this ‘Molestia’ thing has gone too far...” It was then that he noticed another pony’s head peeking out the other side of Celestia’s throne. She looked across at him and then leapt into the air, flying in a large arc above the Princess’ head and landing next to the TARDIS, which had taken on the form of a support column.

“Are you here to help me? Are you…” she trailed off.

“An Agent? Yes. I’m the Fisherman.” He extended his right front leg as if to give a handshake before realising that it wouldn’t quite work. “Heh, still getting used to being a pony.”

“Sakariel,” the pegasus replied. The unusual name coupled with her white fur, pinkish mane and vivid blue eyes set off a thought process in the Fisherman’s mind. He felt like he should know where the new Agent was from, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. “Thanks for coming, it’s my first mission and everything’s going wrong.”

“If you ask me they shouldn’t have sent you in here alone,” the Fisherman said in an attempt to calm Sakariel down. “But you seem to be doing OK, I mean there’s not much to do at the moment but watch and collect charges.”

“You don’t understand,” she replied, fishing around in her saddle pack and bringing out a thoroughly melted CAD.

“Eh, they’re quite prone to doing that. If you ask DoSAT nicely they’ll replace it. Hopefully. I even hear that they’re developing an improved version that doesn’t melt or explode. If you’re lucky you might get one of those!”

“But this is my first mission!” Sakariel almost shouted. “And I think the explosion took out my RA too! I can make contact with HQ, but any portals I open just feed back on themselves!”

“Hmm, you really have had a baptism of fire, haven’t you!” the Fisherman chuckled.

The Agents’ attention was dragged back to the fic by Celestia stamping her hoof inches from Twilight’s face.

"More than my student, you are my consort!" Celestia explained before resuming her casual self, nudging her face across Twilight`s watering one. "I know you`ve been delaying the reports and I do not blame you." She whispered with quietude, resting besides Twilight`s frail and shivering body.

"Why don`t you let me stay with them?" Twilight was angered, somewhat frustrated and that feeling could be witnessed by her tightened sobs.

“What the hell is going on here?” the Fisherman asked.

“No idea,” Sakariel replied. “The fic started as Twilight left Ponyville, then jumped to her being hauled in front of the Princess. Exactly what she’s here for I haven’t quite worked out.”

The Fisherman pulled out his CAD and pointed it at Celestia.

[Princess Celestia. Female alicorn. Non-canonnnnnnnnn ohgodwhatisthis. Character replacement. Love and tolerate.]

“I wouldn’t leave it on too long,” Sakariel advised. “That’s how my one… you know.”

The Fisherman quickly pointed the device at the floor, but not before noticing that it had begun to overheat significantly. “Wait… consort?” he said, his mind only just processing the replacement!Celestia’s statement. “What?”

Sakariel was distracted by the sudden appearance of a set of stairs off to the left behind the throne, leading up. “Er…? Are there stairs leading up from the throne room?”

“I don’t think so… oh, but there are now,” he said, eyes dilated to allow him to see the Words, into which the stairs had suddenly been introduced.

Rising from the ground, trembling from her small legs as she tried to avoid Celestia`s powerful magic that consciously forced the pony to climb the stairs.

“Unconsciously, I think you mean there,” Sakariel said. “Are you feeling a bit… off?” she asked after a few moments.

“Yeah, it’s the tense instability. The fic doesn’t know whether it’s in the present or past and we get dragged along for the ride between the two. Hang on.” He turned the CAD back on and pressed a small blue button on the bottom.

[Attempting to enforce consistent past tense… warning, unit destabiliiiiiiiiissssssssing runfromthedesecration414-414-414-414-414.

Consistent past tense enforced.]

He quickly shut the unit off before its screws came fully loose, and beckoned Sakariel to follow the ‘Princess’ and Twilight up the ‘ivory stairs’ in the wall behind the throne.

The small room they emerged into seemed to be a bedroom, with a large four-poster bed covered in silk sheets as the centerpiece. Replacement!Celestia jumped onto the bed and picked a very distressed Twilight up by her mane with her teeth. The Agents decided that crouching next to a dressing table was the best, if not the only hiding place they could use.

"You will, submit." She hissed. Her demeanor was more husky and rapid, solely interested in approaching Twilight on a much more intimate level.

“So what, Celestia wants Twilight as some sort of concubine? How in the multiverse does that fit in at all with the premise of FiM?” the Fisherman muttered.

“It doesn’t. Could be wish-fulfilment, but I doubt it. Some sort of fantasy delirium, no doubt,” Sakariel offered. “Regardless, there’s a charge in here somewhere about ‘Celestia wanting to be intimate with Twilight’.”

From afar, hiding behind some pillows, stood another pony. She watched with fear, trying to bury her head beneath the pillows. So that she could not hear and see Twilight`s begging, the azure pony used a wing to cover herself. The Princess of the moon little could do considering her broken horn and her chained leg, but she had the courage that only a few possessed.

The combination of the room being described as ‘small’ and Luna supposedly watching ‘from afar’ led to a strange spatial warp in the area around the younger alicorn. When looking directly at her, the Agents saw her as being about 20 metres away, and yet she appeared much closer in their peripheral vision.

“We’ll have to get her to Medical as soon as we’ve cleaned up this insanity,” Sakariel said through gritted teeth.

“Low tolerance for spatial anomalies?” the Fisherman said, assuming the pegasus was trying not to throw up due to the instability.

“No,” she replied curtly. “Low tolerance for sibling abuse.”

“Hey, not the real Celestia, remember?”

“I know, I know, it’s just hard to keep it all separate. This thing is going down, hard.”

“Well, I’m the last person that’s going to hold you back when it comes to destroying uncanon,” the Fisherman said.

The white mare adjusted her wings to cradle Twilight towards her body, savoring the sensation of decrease from her shivers before licking her student`s mane. The warmth that Twilight released soothed the princess inner malice.

“Now, while she’s distracted,” the Fisherman said.

“Kill her?” Sakariel asked.

“Read the charge list first!”

“Oh, right!” Sakariel stood and walked to the foot of the bed. She coughed loudly, evidently dispelling the SEP field judging by Luna’s shocked reaction. “Princess Celestia, otherwise known as Mary Sue,” she began.

“How dare you interrupt my time with my consort,” replacement!Celestia said indignantly.

“Shut up and listen,” Sakariel continued. “As an Agent of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum I hereby charge you with the following: several counts of constructing confusing and meaning-deprived sentences, being a character replacement and thereby usurping the position of the canon Princess Celestia, twisting the personality and actions of said character to the extent that it melted a PPC analysis device, namely forcing Twilight Sparkle to be your ‘consort’ without explanation or motive, assaulting Twilight without reason and evidently doing the same to your sister, Princess Luna. Oh, and you can add distorting the spatial dimensions of Canterlot Castle for good measure. I believe I have to give you the opportunity to respond? That right?” She turned to the Fisherman, who was busying himself attempting to use magic to free Luna.

“Not really,” he replied. “I’d just get on with it.”

“Get on with what?” ‘Celestia’ demanded.

“This.” Sakariel retrieved a small cupcake from her saddle bag and tapped it. In a flash she changed form into a tall, thin girl with pale skin and the same pinkish-white hair. She wore an white uniform with an unusual cape-like garment draped over her shoulders. She retrieved a small grey alien rifle from a holster and aimed it squarely at the Sue’s head.

“Arume,” the Fisherman whispered, finally realising what Sakariel was.

“Do you really think that will work against a Princess?” the Sue said.

“Let’s find out,” the Arume replied, squeezing the trigger. A bolt of blue light shot out from the device and struck ‘Celestia’ below the horn. She recoiled back, but seemed otherwise unhurt.

“I can’t get this thing off!” the Fisherman said, realising that the Sue must be exerting some kind of magical force over Luna’s restraint.

Sakariel fired continuously as the Sue struggled, flapping her wings and jumping to avoid the shots in the confined space. Initially she was able to do so, but as Sakariel got used to the Sue’s movements she was able to land shot after shot. The alicorn collapsed to the floor, exhausted. Her horn began to glow with yellow energy, and Sakariel’s weapon was ripped from her hands and clattered against the far wall.

Meanwhile, the Fisherman had also deactivated his disguise and was fiddling with his Remote Activator. He pointed it at the far wall, but before he could activate it he found himself levitating three feet off the floor and unable to move. Sakariel dove for her rifle, rolling and aiming it at the Sue in one fluid movement. She fired wildly, but enough of the shots struck home to cause the mare to lose concentration. Gravity reasserted its control over the Fisherman, and he dropped to the floor, only just keeping his balance.

“There might be a bit of a breeze,” he shouted before bracing himself against the bed, pointing the RA at the ground under the Princess’ feet and activating it. A portal opened and there was a sudden gust of wind, so strong that it pulled almost all the loose items in the room toward the hole in the floor. However, barely a second had passed before it had dropped and the portal was gone. So too, was the replacement!Sue.

“What?” was all Sakariel could manage after taking several seconds to catch her breath.

“Appropriate and effective,” the Fisherman said smiling, easily releasing Luna from her chains.

“A portal to space?”

“To the moon.”

“Where did you learn that?”

“A little trick my partner taught me,” a twinge of concern creeping into the Time Lord’s voice as he thought of Evie.

“So is she dead then? The Sue?”

“Dunno. I mean poor Luna was trapped in the moon, but whether ponies can survive an actual vacuum… we’ll have to go find out. Anyway, before that, a brief trip to Medical is in order. No need for the neuralyzer, the docs will take care of that.”

“Wouldn’t the ponies come under Veterinary?” Sakariel wondered as she scooped a dazed Twilight into her arms.

“Probably,” the Fisherman replied absent-mindedly as he carefully picked up a grateful Princess Luna. “Now, back to the TARDIS.”

“TARDIS?” Sakariel repeated. “You’re a Time Lord?”

“And you’re an Arume, what of it?” the Fisherman replied, grinning.

“Wha… how did you know?”

“The angelic-inspired name gave me a clue, but the clincher was that crazy white uniform of yours.”

“Heh, I’ve never liked it.”

“So change, you can wear pretty much what you like here.”

“I will when I get the chance!” the alien replied with a chuckle.

After a short detour to the Veterinary Ward, the two Agents found themselves staring out of the TARDIS doors at the surface of Earth’s moon. Floating seemingly immobile. several feet from the time machine was the replacement!Sue.

[Subject: Regula fictus specimen. Overall status: Living. Immediate status: Dormant owing to oxygen starvation. Recommendation: It survived a gorram vacuum, try a railgun or something!]

“You know a railgun might not actually be such a bad idea,” the Fisherman said after about a minute.

“And you just happen to have the parts to build one?” Sakariel replied.

“You still got that rifle?”

“Yes…” The Arume handed it over somewhat reluctantly.

“Give me five minutes.” The Fisherman got to work wiring the advanced weapon into the central console, the barrel pointing toward the doors. Ten minutes, several wires and lots of cursing later, the device was declared ready. As they lacked a proper round for the improvised weapon, the Agents settled on using three of Sakariel’s hair pins bound up with some spare copper wire.

“Is that thing really going to be able to kill the Sue,” Sakariel asked. “I mean it’s hardly a MAC cannon…”

“One way to find out,” the Fisherman replied, pressing the trigger and initiating the charging sequence. A hum filled the control room before building to an almost deafening whine. Suddenly there was a blue flash and a crack. When the Agents’ vision returned, the Arume weapon had disappeared. “Ah,” the Time Lord continued, rushing to the door. “It appears to have launched the whole thing.”

“How is that even possible?”

“No idea… but it seems to have worked.”

The rifle had struck the Sue-pony with enough force to embed itself into the creature’s flank, doing considerable damage in the process. ‘Celestia’ began to glow with an intense light, prompting the Fisherman to slam the TARDIS doors shut. There was a whooshing noise and then silence.

[Subject: Regula fictus specimen. Overall status: Dead. Immediate status: Entity split into component subatomic particles. Recommendation: Don’t eat particle soup. Not good for you.]

Both agents breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now then,” the Fisherman said, picking singed bits of wire out of the control console. “Do you have an RC I can return you to?”

“14359. They said that I was supposed to meet my partner there, but once I’d found the place, the console was already beeping at me. Do you think I should have waited?”

“Probably not. It’s best to answer the call when it comes, lest the Flowers that Be decide to send you into anything truly nasty.” He flicked the dematerialization handle and started their journey back to PPC HQ. “Or force you to eat the Canteen food.”

“Why is the door sideways?” the Fisherman asked as he stepped out of the TARDIS. He turned his head sideways to read the sign. “14359. We’re here, but… yeah, any ideas?”

“None. It was like that when I got here.”

“I would say to ask Building Maintenance to have a look, but knowing them they probably put it in like this in the first place?”


“Some vastly complex structural reason involving several floors, three marmots, a cybernetic pigeon and the possibility of a large section of HQ collapsing. Possibly.” The Fisherman made a goofy grin.

Sakariel looked shocked for a moment before rolling her eyes. “You’re mad.” She stepped forward and opened the door.

“Guilty as charged. So, looks like your partner still hasn’t shown up...”

“Useless forime… by the way, where do you get that Bleeprin stuff from? If it’s always like this, I think I’ll be needing a large supply.”

“General Store,” the Fisherman replied. “Or…” he dashed back inside the TARDIS and returned a few seconds later with two small white pills. “A magic box.”

“Replicator,” Sakariel said, accepting the pills. “Star Trek was one of my favourites back in FicPsych.”

“Oh,” the Fisherman replied, somewhat disappointed. “Well, ‘magic box’ sounds cooler, so—” he was interrupted by a ringing noise from the control console. “Er, I should probably find out what that is before something blows up. Best of luck, you’ll need it!”

“Thanks, and… thanks for saving me.”

“Meh, no problem. I got to be a pony, that’s enough reward for me!”

As the Fisherman approached the viewscreen he noticed what the ringing noise was connected to.


He pushed the green button on the side of the screen and the black readout was replaced by Evie’s smirking face.

“Evie!” he half-shouted. “You’re awake!”

“Yeessss… at least I was the last time I checked,” she replied. She was sitting on her bed in Medical, using some kind of mobile transciever to make the video call.

“So are you better now? All that Sue-energy-goop gone?”

“So the Doc says, and I certainly don’t feel like collapsing again! Done anything interesting?”

“Ohh, probably poisoned several Cafeteria patrons, saw a pink Evangelion destroy a wall, became a pony, met an anime alien, shot a princess with a railgun. Not much.”

“Wait, you became a pony?”

“Eeyup. Mission, well, a sort-of-mission in the MLP continuum. When in Equestria…”

“Get out as soon as possible.”

“Why? Ponies are cool!”


“It’s true! Anyway, what do you say we take a break somewhere sane before Upstairs realise that you’re better and decide to give us more brain bending fics?”

“You’ll get no argument from me!”

“Here we go. Earth, Star Trek continuum. Safe, sane and plenty of things to do. If I’m right we should be just outside Starfleet Headquarters,” the Fisherman announced after the TARDIS had landed.

Evie looked somewhat skeptical but headed for the door anyway. She pulled it open.

The buildings outside were heavily damaged, several of them on fire. The Golden Gate bridge had collapsed in several placed and the general vicinity looked more like a warzone than the peaceful ideal Evie was expecting. After a second or so, she realised exactly what she was looking at. “2375. Of all the times you could have chosen, you went for November 2375.”

“What’s wrong?” the Fisherman said, wandering over to the door. “Oh… of course. The Breen.”

“That would be my guess,” Evie snarked back. “Oh well!” She headed out toward the closest building, with her partner following on behind.

“You don’t mind? I can try again, go for an earlier point.”

“No, this is fine. More interesting this way, something’s actually going on. All that utopian wonder… not really my style!”