Homebound

Chapters

(2) No Sol-iciting Allowed
(3) Land of the Horse Things
(4) Sound Negotiations
(5) Theatrics
(6) Turnout Ponies
(7) Safe Fates
(8) Welcome Aboard
(9) Leaving the Anomaly
(10) Old Friends
(11) Ellipses
(I) Jonesy
(12) One Foot Forward
(13) Two Leaps Back
(15) Ties
(16) Generosity and Compassion
(17) Kind
(18) Like a Dull Sword and a Thousand Catapults
(19) Operation Cheer-up the Captain
(20) Dutybound
(21) Our Sole Burden
(22) Bullets and Blades - Part One
(23) Bullets and Blades - Part Two
(24) Mission Man
(25) Promises Break You First
(1) Homebound Rebooted: The Captain
(2) Homebound Rebooted: No Sol-iciting Allowed
(1) It's a Suicide Mission
(14) Man On the Ceiling, Pony On the Bed

(2) No Sol-iciting Allowed

-Aboard the ESS Homebound K-196. SRC 231211.
-One minute after entering the anomaly.
-Bridge.

-

Another fun fact, it's been proven that while I am not the luckiest man in the galaxy, I am in the top ten. Sadly, nobody ever pays attention to that list.

The world reshaped itself, and I was being yelled at. Normally I was only yelled at on the battlefield, by superiors, but now it was my own crew. Funny how that works. Most of the lights had darkened, and the incessant flickering of various controls and diodes assaulted my already weakened eyes, and the violent alarm didn't help any either. It didn't smell like soap anymore; it smelled like smoke. I hated smoke even more than soap. Heh. Rhymes.

"SIR OUR COMMUNICATIONS JUST WENT DOW-"

"WEAPONS OFFLINE. I'M ATTEMPTING TO BRING THEM BAC-"

"HALF THE SHIP JUST DIED! I'M TRYING TO SAVE LIFE SUPPOR-"

"WHUAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

I sighed, and let go of the two joysticks. The shouting continued around me, and I rubbed my hands together, feeling the sticky sweat that had accumulated in the last few seconds. I licked my lips, they were dry like they’d never seem moisture in their lifetimes, and stared at the window at the front. There were stars again, but nothing else seemed to be wrong, except for an abnormally bright star in the distance. We were near a system, then.

"TACT?" I asked, waving at the air where the hologram controls were supposed to be. There was no answer, and I sighed. The hull shuddered, and I grabbed hold of the control sticks again. The ship lurched, and one of the cadets who hadn't secured himself was flung into his control panel. I grappled with the controls, eyes set on the spinning stars in front of me. In the background, the screaming began dying down. The sense of paranoia, nausea, and the feeling that my perception of reality had been smacked around in some brutal ancient sport had finally faded.

"COMMUNICATIONS STILL OFFLINE!"

"Sir! Life support is back online!"

"Good news, weapons are back."

"I got the engines under control!"

"Our scanners are 'ah bit wonky still, sir."

"Unnnhgg...."

"Sir, no casualties. One minor injury, just a scratch. Nothing irreparable, but our communications are still down," Art said, spinning in his chair to face me. I nodded at him, eyes still focused on the space ahead. Gradually, the shuddering stopped, and the lights began flickering back on. A dull, male voice emanated from the ceiling.

"TACT Re-Initializing. Backups Checked And Uploading."

I let go of the controls, and rubbed my hands together again. After the sweat dried from the friction, I pressed a button on the side of the chair. The alarm stopped, and the holographic controls flickered back into place. In the corner of the holoscreen was a red-highlighted list of things currently inoperable. Slowly, one by one, they faded to light blue. One refused to change, though, and I tapped it.

"Confirmation on the status of our communications?"

"Confirmed. They Are Down, Sir," TACT said, "And I Can Not Restart Them Without Using A Vast Majority Of Our Energy."

"Don't restart them," I said, and clicked out of the screen. A few more taps spurred by muscle memory and a navigation panel popped up. There was one dot in the middle, us, and everything else was coated in a thick sheet of horrible blackness. Normally it would shift to compensate distance and show at least the nearest system. This was abnormal. I touched TACT's button again. "Perform a scan on all nearby celestial objects. I want this map ASAP- Good," I said, as a couple blips appears on the map. More blips, a few unnamed planets and their satellites, and then the nearby star. "Run a scan on each of the planets, get their orbits down. Details and the like."

A group of ripples spread from our point on the ship, and various statistics popped up next to each asteroid, planet, or moon each ripple touched. I straightened in my seat and cleared my voice.

"Intercom on," I said, and swallowed hard. "Attention, crew. I have some good news and bad news. Good news is we weren't obliterated, no one died, we have full control of the ship, and there's a system close to us that wasn't previously thought to exist in our databases. Bad news is our communications are down, so we're stranded from here on out. According to command regulations, we're nonexistent. Dead. That means all our problems are our own, so I don't want any problems we can't fix, got it? Good. Now I want everyone to sit ti- Oh... My God."

All the crewmembers in the room stared at me, and I tapped on a planet as a roll of statistics appeared. Art raised an eyebrow, and I waved him over. "TACT, are you sure you scanned that thing correctly?"

"Yes."

"Run a starmap comparison, I want to double check. Art?" I looked up at the lieutenant, who stood next to the chair with his hands behind his back, peering over my shoulder at the planet in question.

"Is that even possible?" I heard him whisper. "An exact copy of-" TACT butted in, and our mouths slowly fell open.

"Sir. Comparison To Our Archives Is Complete. Our Current Position Is In The Sol System, Probability Of This Being Correct, Ninety-Seven Point Nine Percent."

“Oh my God," I repeated, and double tapped on the planet. "We're going there. Now. I want full scans on the way there. Radiation, life scans, wha- Oh bollocks. Sorry, boys. Intercom off," I said, and turned to face Art, who was staring blankly at the picture. I snapped my fingers, and he looked back at me, worry etched into his face. I could vaguely feel the rest of the crew staring at us. The hum of the engine was the only sound other than their slow, tense breathing. If the ship had a heart, it would have stopped.

"What do you think we'll find, Jackson?" he whispered. I grinned.

"No idea. If this place is really Sol, and it has Earth, we’re going to be the most famous men in history. Ever. Hopefully, there’s still life down there, and hopefully they’re sapient at the very least. Even better if they’re friendly. I love first contact missions," I quipped, double tapping on the screen again. The statistics refreshed. "Oh, look. They have have civilization down there. Sapient!"

"Sir, with all due respect, I'm well aware of what happened on your last first contact mission. If I remember correctly, you were run off the planet and we had to-"

"We have that 'first contact kit' command gave us, too. We'll be fine. I call dibs on being first to step on the ground."

"Alright, sir."

"And go to the hangar and set up the dropship. Make sure you bring out the EPA suits. Just in case we do get shot at, of course. I want to leave at least two people in the ship at all times." I looked over to one of the cadets, searching for his name in my mind before waving at him.

"Congrats. You're flying this baby while we're planetside. What's your name?"

"Evo Andres, am cadet and proud to serve, sir."

"Yea, yea. You were trained in piloting, right?"

"Yessir, was my specialty during trainings." I chuckled, nodded, and pushed myself out of the chair, stepping to the side. He stared at me for a few moments, and I pointed a thumb at the seat. "All yours, mate." I turned to face Art. "Me and you are going to be the first on the ground, alright? I'll bring two more with us."

"Redshirts."

"Nah, I’m not bringing a VALK for myself; don't plan on getting shot at. We'll be going in with only minor side arms. Dropship’s armed, you know.”

"I know, I checked as soon as we got on the ship."

"Allllright!" I looked back at Evo, who was now squirming uncomfortably in the chair. Ignoring the urge to chuckle at his position, I clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll do fine."

~=\/=~

The dropship rattled for the umpteenth time, and I could see one of the cadets clutch his chair instinctively. The thick plastic bag tied to the wall was already filled with what was once his lunch, and I could see the strain on his face as we closed the distance between the Homebound and the planet. I had the same reaction the first few times I had traveled at such speeds in a dropship, and our technologies then certainly weren't what they are now. He was lucky, really.

I tapped the side of my helmet, and the visor lifted. Relief flooded into his face, happy to be reminded I was there and still human. I smiled and nodded in understanding, noticing he was impatiently tapping his armored boot on the ground. A few seats next to him sat the other cadet, staring blankly out the window from under his helmet, the visor obscuring his face.

"Nervous?" I asked, still smiling slyly, leaning forward ever so slightly in my seat like most bureaucrats tend to do when they want to look interested or concerned. He feigned a laugh, and shook his head.

"No sir. Of course not."

"Well," I said, my friendly gaze turning into a frown, “you should be. First contact missions are some of the most fun, but first impressions are always good to get done proper. Depending on what TACT finds with the dropship scanners, appearing to be cold and callous may not be the best move. You need to learn to improvise. Act. First off, what's your name?"

"Roland, sir."

I straightened my posture out, and pointed a gloved finger at the second cadet. "You. Name," I barked, and he jumped in his seat before turning to me. I couldn't see his face from behind the visor, which annoyed me. If he liked it down he could keep it, but I like faces. Faces are nice.

"That's Dylan. Don't expect an answer," Roland said, coming to his peer’s rescue. Dylan nodded, and I nodded back. I hadn't checked to see if any of the crew was specifically mute, but I didn't know how I had missed it earlier.

"When we get down there, I want both of you to turn your speakers off until I order you to turn them back on. That way we can talk privately. Make sure to do whatever I say, because I've been on more first contact missions than either of you. Speaking of which." I looked away from them for a moment, and pressed a button on the side of my suit. A holographic panel appeared, and I tapped through one of the buttons. A low buzzing began in my helmet, and I coughed.

"Art. Can you patch TACT through to the intercom? I'd like the cadets to know what we're heading into." I paused, listening to the shuffling of limbs as Art turned around in the cockpit. Next to the thin door leading to the front of the dropship, a panel slid down to reveal a screen. The mushroom-like TACT logo appeared, and it's dull voice resonated through the area.

"Captain Amber. I Would Like To Report That I Have Finished Scanning The Designated Target. I Feel You Will Be Interested In The Results."

I waved dismissively at the screen. "You're an AI, you don't feel anything. Just tell me the results, no order needed. I just want to know what we're going into." I stopped, and glanced at the two other occupants. They were staring at the screen with intent expressions, or at least one of them was. The other still hadn't moved his visor.

"It Would Be Best If I Sent Them To Your Suit. Running An AI For Extended Periods Of Time Will Deplete Ship Energy."

"Whatever. Just sen- Ah." I paused as a hologram extended outwards on my wrist, emitting from my datapad. A long list of information flowed past. I tapped it once, and it reverted to the beginning. "Shut down for now, TACT," I said, and the panel slid back into place with a low whirr. I flicked through the information, skimming.

I'm not sure what my face showed while I read through it, but every once in a while I looked through the translucent letters to see Roland's face slowly turn from anticipation to utter dread. As for the other cadet, he still had that visor down. He had already been waiting in the dropship when I arrived, if it was even a he.

Eventually, I just turned off the hologram, and looked at the two cadets sitting opposite from me. It was a fair sized dropship cabin, at least as far as dropships went. I coughed nervously, steadying my voice.

"This system is geocentric,” I said, my dull voice practically echoing off the metal walls. Roland's mouth hung open, his thin mustache stretching. "That's not all, though," I sighed, and slumped in the chair. "They're sapient. They have cities, we knew all that, but they have no recognizable defenses, and judging from their greatly differing architectures and heat sig's, there are several sapient species on the planet. Which one is the dominant one, TACT couldn't figure out, but he looked at the one with the most population. From patterns throughout other first-contact missions and our own histories, it appears we've located their capitol. Big, white castle thingy, apparently. TACT has the scans of it. Weather is mostly clear throughout the planet, but that may be just due to our timing. Most of the species don't appear to have advanced technology. No radiation. Survivable atmosphere. Perfect conditions for a mission." I paused, looking from Roland to Dylan. "Which naturally means something is probably going to go wrong. Set your weapons to nonlethal."

"Aye, sir," Roland said, hand reaching down to fiddle with the bulky weapon attached to his leg. I looked over at Dylan, who shrugged. I supposed that meant he already had it set. Good.

"Art?" I asked, tapping the side of my helmet once again. "You picked out a good, populated area yet? We need to keep this mission speedy so we have enough energy to exit the anomaly without killing ourselves."

"How about what TACT labeled as the most probable location of their capitol? Because it's either the capitol or some sort of sacred temple. Fifty fifty chance it's a temple and they decide to run us off the planet for insulting their freaking sun god. There's a small inhabited area a few kilometers away from that, but I'd rather deal with politicians or monks than the inhabitants of a small village. Remember last time, sir?"

I narrowed my eyes, and chewed on my lower lip for a moment. On one hand, we had a shot at instantly getting to meet their leaders or trespassing on sacred ground, but it sped up the first contact process by a few weeks. None of the flying around and observing garbage that usually went down. On the other hand, we could easily botch our chances at a friendly relationship with the first choice, and then maybe they decide we're an inferior race and attempt to wipe our existence from the galaxy. That had actually happened once. We didn't have enough energy or fuel to last the weeks required for a normal first contact, and even if we secured friendly contact there was the chance they didn't have the technology to help. We'd be stranded.

"To the capitol, Art. Take us in when you're ready, just be sure to warn us about it." I chuckled dryly, recalling the last time Art had brought us into atmosphere. None of the dropship occupants had been prepared. Suffice to say, the mission, which was to sneak into a heavily guarded prison facility to get back an ambassador, went smoother than the ride into atmosphere.

"Aye aye, Jackson," Art said, and I could feel the hum of the engines increase. through the walls. "Entry's in two minutes at this speed, and I'm accelerating. Buckle up."

"What's the time at our landing zone, Art?" I called, mind wandering as I double checked the several straps connected to each side of the seat. I had made it a habit to always strap myself in during flights. It made things easier during sudden encounters with the enemy. By easier, I mean I didn't break my skull open if we had to engage in sudden and violent evasive maneuvers. That happened during an atmospheric entry once. I stopped getting the nightmares a few years ago. Specifically the nightmares about that one, not nightmares in general.

"About mid-day, I think. We haven't had enough time to check how fast their days go by, but it's definitely somewhere near there."

"What if they're nocturnal?"

"We'll cross that bridge when or if we get there, I s’pose. Entry in forty seconds. I'm turning off the intercom until then. Art out."

I chuckled, and looked at Roland and Dylan. "You boys ready? Not every new recruit gets sent on a suicide mission and a first contact event all in one. You're lucky."

Roland nodded, patting at the chair's belts wrapped around his chest and legs. "I guess I am. Training was either rough or just dull. We did more obstacle courses than we practiced with weaponry or piloting, or even officer training. Dylan and I were actually in the WIC Indigo incident, though. You were there for that, right?"

"I was. I don't remember you two, though. Were you on the front lines?" I asked.

"About at the midway. We just kept the buggers at a choke point, west side of the facility. Lighter traffic over there, but it was still a challenge. You were on the east side?"

"Northeast, actually," I said, doing my best to recall the memory."Lots of heavy stuff went on over there. You saw the explosions during the climax of the battle, right, the ones just before we won?"

"Yea," he said, and I could tell by his face he remembered it clearly. "Never was told what those were about."

"That was me," I said, chuckling. "Considering the facility had like, no proper explosives, I think I did a good job. Did you enjoy the show?" I chuckled again, fading off as I noticed his grim expression.

"One of my buddies got hit by the debris. Banged him up pretty badly and he had to drop out of the cadet program. Haven't heard from him since then,” he said, and Dylan nodded. My smile fell, and I glanced awkwardly at the floor. Seconds afterward, the craft began to shudder, and panels slid over the windows.

"Entry time, entry time," I muttered in a faked sing-song voice, still staring at the floor. It was part of a diddy we used to sing, back when “entry time” was synonymous with getting blown up. I lazily reached up and drew my visor down, the black cover locking itself into place with the rest of the helmet. Normally, I never wore the same helmet as a cadet - or anyone else for that matter. If I did wear a helmet, it was of my own design and specified just for me. I had the engineers build me several of them, which I hid in various ships and bases for when I visited, so I didn't have to carry one around all the time. One was located in my personal quarters on the Homebound, but I hadn't bothered to put it on. Sometimes it helped to be a little humble. Roland mimicked my action, and gripped the armrests like they were the only thing keeping him afloat.

I could hear flames licking, or rather, roaring, alongside the craft. I had seen every kind of ship enter the atmosphere, whether it be crashing or landing, so I knew what we looked like. The question was, of course, what did we look like to the inhabitants of the world? I couldn't really help but wonder. Cheesy, but true. When you’re as busy as me, there eventually aren’t anymore new things to look at. Even the most wondrous of sights becomes mundane.

I hated that.

The shuddering and groaning stopped as quickly as it had ended. I could always appreciate a smooth entry, or even a smooth crash. Having crashed multiple ships in my time, I could empathize with how hard it could be. Gravity returned to normal, and everyone simultaneously banged against the back of their seats as the dropship leveled out. The familiar buzz of the intercom returned.

"Alright. We're going steady towards... Damn. Jackson Amber, you are going to want to see this. Patching it to your visor feed... Wow," Art said, and an image flickered on the inside of my visor. Normally, dropships or ships in general didn't have a camera system, but this one was specifically designed for this mission. We needed to know everything, and expect twice as much beforehand.

No one could have expected this.

~=\/=~

(3) Land of the Horse Things

-Aboard the Fate Dropship 1K-196
-One minute after entering the anomaly.
-Bridge.

-

I stared blankly at the castle before me, or rather before the dropship. No, not a castle, nor was it a fortress; it was a palace. It was designed to be the epitome of luxury and class, where rulers could dine and have a lovely spot of tea with a foreign dignitary, or where a line of peasants lined up to request various things from a queen. Of course, the latter depended on how kind the ruler was, and I prepared myself for a tyrant. Always good to be prepared for stuff like that, right?

It was white, mostly. The material appeared to be some kind of marble, even though that was impossible. It was impossible because you just do not make towers or cities or anything like that without sufficiently advanced technology. The towers were bent in impossible shapes, the entire city was an obscene gesture directed at gravity, sitting happily on the side of a mountain like it was. The towers were topped in various shades of gold and purple. I liked the color of gold. The insignia on the side of my ship is gold. Waterfalls cascaded off of the side.

It was pretty ugly, actually. Wondrous to this planet, sure, but I'd certainly seen more appealing things. Hell, I've destroyed nicer things than this place. I mean, to be fair, it was definitely a palace to this planet, so I'd be nice and not say anything once we got there. If this was the best these folks had, they would be going places in the galaxy. It was just a small palace, but I couldn't imagine what a spaceship or a station would look like in that style. Positively gorgeous. Okay, so maybe my thoughts on their supposed capitol were a little rampant, but it was a tense moment.

We drew nearer, and I realized my initial estimation of the size was a tad off. It was about five times bigger than I thought it was. Wow. I blinked stupidly as the dropship circled around, gradually getting nearer to the spiraling towers. Despite its new size, in my mind, it was still small and I had still seen better. My ponderings on how this species would design various types of ships was interrupted when the dropship jolted, and a red light blinked from the ceiling.

"Art," I said calmly, gripping the armrests. "Why are you entering evasive maneuvers? I didn't see them fire anything. What's going on up there?" I asked, the response blaring in my ear. If you’ve ever put your face in a foghorn, you’ll almost know what it was like. I spasmed for just a moment, slamming the volume down as fast as physically possible. Let me tell you, my friends, my instincts are more honed than your average feline predator, the volume button didn’t even stand a chance.

"AARRGG! I, gah! There are... ah dang. I don't know what to call them- THINGS! There are just these THINGS buzzing around the ship. We're going faster than them, I'm doing my best to avoid sucking them in the engines. I don't know if they're like sacred animals or anything. Dang, man. They're too fast to get a good look at, though. I hope you guys can hold on while I bring us down."

"I'll live," I said through bared teeth.. The dropship bounced a few more times, and my head and neck became tired of violently slamming against the headrest. I’d done it before, but the body never gets used to getting nearly blown up. Ever. I continued gazing into my visor, seeing what the dropship saw until I got what I wanted. "Art."

"Yessir?"

"You see that garden area? The one with the maze and - whatarethey - statues?"

"Yessir. Want me to land her there?"

"You betcha," I said, and shifted in my seat. I felt the dropship point it's nose upwards with agonizingly precise slowness, "and turn off the camera feed, please." There was a pause, and the image flickered off, disappearing from the middle of the visor. I glanced up, and the red light stopped glowing, returning the compartment to its normal dull sky blue light. The other cadets seemed fine, both sitting straight with their blank visors staring expectantly at me. Like robots. I never was fond of robots. They were completely unreliable. Technology, imperfect, you say? Hah.

"One more small step for the history books, boys," Art said, eliciting a chuckle from myself. The cadets stayed quiet, and it was obvious they didn't get the joke. It wasn't funny at all, but it certainly brought memories back to my first first-contact mission. One step out the door and I tripped, falling flat on my face right in front of what we later found out was their leader's son. Seconds before, I had uttered those exact words. Textbook stuff, you know?

The craft lurched as it came in contact with the ground, and I waited as the hum of the engines died down. We had chosen one of the more silent dropship crafts available. Big, loud, unknown things tend to scare people, and scared people tend to react poorly, and reacting poorly tends to mean shooting a few missiles. Missiles are bad for my health.

There was a muffled cha-chunk as the craft officially settled down, and the door to the cockpit buzzed open. In walked Art, helmet under one arm, and the other stretched out in a wide arc. He yawned, and wearily placed his helmet on his head, taking a moment to fiddle with the buttons on the side. The cadets and I unhitched ourselves and stretched as well, feeling the stiffness of sitting still for so long drift away. The calm before the storm; maybe storms were good luck in this planet's culture.

My neck tilted at an odd angle, bouncing back with a low crack. I patted my sidearm and turned towards the door. "Mobile TACT. Online."

"Initiating mobile TACT interface. This will take longer to load than a ship based AI and is currently in the last stages of testing. TACT is a product of Kaiden Tech," a recorded female voice said, and I absent-mindedly nodded in confirmation. I glanced over at Art, who grinned as his visor slid across his face.

"Art, you grabbed the mobile scanner for your suit, right?" I asked. He nodded, tapping at a screen hooked onto his wrist’s data-pad. Our suits, or at least these versions, were energy efficient. They came with their own specialized personal shields, which were not very powerful but still incredibly handy, their own intercom system that broadcasted to wearers of the same suit, or wearers of similar suits on the same channel, and they also came with a few other handy doohickies. It had just enough energy to spare for one of several types of attachments to run on. I had obviously chosen TACT, simply because part of me felt bad that the mobile version had sat in my closet for nearly an entire year before this. The tests had never gone past this version. I had asked Art to use a scanner earlier, so we weren't totally blind. I hadn't told the cadets to bring anything specific though. I had hoped they'd be trained enough to decide that on their own.

I looked at the two cadets, and waved a finger between them. "Which ones did you two grab, eh?" I asked. and Dylan instantly slid a small compartment open along the back of his wrist, and pressed a small touchpad. For the briefest of moments, a faint blue glow could be seen around his body. Extended shields. That probably meant Dylan fought a tad erratically. I added that to my mental list of things I knew about my crew, and nodded, turning to Roland.

"VALK, “ he said plainly through my helmet feed, and flashed me the back of his own wrist. Unlike the other simple touch-screens we possessed, his was a bulky cylindrical device, various wires trailing up his arm and into the small battery hooked on his back.

VALKs, or "Valkyries" as they had been nicknamed by a few groups in the galaxy, were literally a lifesaver in a battlefield. Nobody remembers who specifically invented the technology, but we knew it came from the fabled Zukav Technologies of ancient Earth. It was a device shared by everyone. They were expensive and burned energy faster than some of the largest vehicles ever created, but they were supposedly the turning point of all warfare. At a basic level, the VALK is an incredibly advanced AI system that detects danger before it happens. It doesn't rattle off a warning to you or anything, it leaves that up to you. What it does is it makes sure you aren't killable. Not in an invincible way, but...

Well. Basically-basically, it's a personal teleporter. Teleportation has always been wasteful and never practical, but that's exactly what it did. If someone fired a rocket at you, and the AI predicted you wouldn't dodge it in time, it teleported you at the last possible moment in time. Whether it be ten feet away or to a ship in orbit, you got out alright. A little woozy, but all right. The only catch was that you had to set where you wanted to teleport to. Whether this was with a beacon for a group of people or written coordinates for just you, it didn't matter. Personally, I loved the VALKs. My “death” count was a little over eight thousand, so I guess you could see why I liked them.

I nodded at Roland, and stomped to the back door. I was small in comparison, and it wasn't so much a door as it was a closed ramp, but we had chosen a fairly large dropship for our needs. "They surrounded the dropship yet? They usually do it pretty fast," I asked, and I heard Art chuckle dryly.

"Yea. They're pretty controlled, though. My guess is it's their police, maybe military if we're unlucky. Civilians would clump together more, and these guys are in an arrangement."

"Military, I bet. Most law enforcers don't have formations like that. But let's be prepared for the worst. TACT, you there?"

"Yes Sir."

"Can you link to Art's scanner and feed that information to our HUDs? I'd like a map, maybe a heat radar or whatever," I said, and a round circle drew itself on the inside of my visor. Three green dots appeared in close proximity to the middle, and at least twenty grey dots began popping into existence around the outside of what I knew was our ship. Even more grey dots appeared at the rim of the circle, indicating presences outside the map range. I smirked inside the helmet.

"Everybody ready for this?" I asked. Roland looked about ready to dance in place, and Art moved in front of him. "Alright. Art, I want you to the left and a little behind me. You two, I want far to the back and standing just like you are now. If any talking is done, it'll be me or Art, because I want you guys checking for danger. Copy that?" Roland and Dylan nodded, and fell into configuration behind us.

"Alright. Now or never, right? TACT, link with the dropship and open the ramp," I ordered. There was a drawn out hissing sound, and my smirk widened. The air so tense it was like swimming in sludge, and I liked an AI that didn't constantly hit me in the face me with yes-sirs.

Light overwhelmed us as the ramp lowered with its usualy strained whirr, and our visors quickly compensated for the glare. There was an electronic thump as it connected with the grass with a note of underlying finality that I hadn’t expected. I blinked a few times, and then blinked again. The first few times were to get used to the light, which was still bright even with the visor’s automatic compensation, and the last few were because I was dumbfounded by what I saw.

"Hell," Art said.

"What," Roland said.

Dylan remained silent. How original. I’d have to put promote him. Or her. Whatever.

I stared, my mouth half open for almost a full ten seconds that felt a bit more like thirty minutes. Tension levels had gone from a sludgy coating to the kind of heavy armored plating you couldn’t penetrate with an orbital strike. The sun seemed awfully bright and awkward today. Oh, and horse thingies. Horse things everywhere.

"Horse things," I said with about as much emotion as a flat tire. My mind, for once, had completely gone blank. It just couldn't handle it, and I could almost feel my skin dripping as my face melted off from the pressure. That was just a metaphor, of course. Faces don't melt - or at least not often enough.

Don’t have your face melted off, kids.

"Ayup," Art sputtered. By then, I noticed we had been standing there stupidly for almost a full minute, and I put one foot forward, careful not to slide off the ramp and hit my face on the ground. Not like last time.

Most of the horse things, small, roundish little things by the looks of them, were all either stark industrial white or a brownish grey, and all wore empyrean gold armor. Some were holding spear. They all looked like clones, and maybe they were. I couldn't help but think that they looked artificial. So, robot horse things?

They had faces, too. Remarkable faces that greatly resembled most of the faces I'd seen worn by the majority of the galaxy. While not everyone was humanoid like my species, most had faces. The faces always were very different from mine, so this was a nice change in pace. If you'd like, here's a sample of what my brain was thinking during this. All in the span of a second, mind you.

They have faces. Those are good faces. Same expressions, might be robots.

No, one just blinked a little, robots don't blink.

Golden armor. Maybe it's just painted, won't shoot one to check.

Wings and horns. They look pretty useless on such a bulky body. Heavy armor. Wings are worthless. Flying horse things. Haha. Horns? Stabby horns, don’t get near.

There's a purple looking one back there, frowning at us. Different expression. They have different expressions. Frowning appears to be a sign of displeasure or unease. Logically, smiling the opposite and considered friendly.

Same faces. Smile at them.

There was a dark blue horse in the back, and the first thing to note was that her hair was impossible. Literally impossible. Hair doesn't work that way. Maybe she donated her real hair to cancer patients? Ha. I'm hilarious.

Nobody’s ever had space for hair before. I tossed out the idea that these might have no technology. All the spears turned into giant tasers in my mind’s eye, and the armor into personal shields far better than our own battleships could produce. It was terrifying, for lack of a better term.

The second thing was that while it had wings, it also had a horn. I vaguely remembered a bit of ancient Earth lore on the subject. It was something we had discovered on an ancient ship. I think they were called unicarns. I could’ve been wrong. At the same time, I remembered a bit more. Some of the robot-horse-things were pagasus’. Maybe. It was a long time ago, and my memory isn’t what it used to be.

The third was that while it wore little to no armor compared to the white horse things, it had a crown. That set it apart much more than its dark color. Royalty was good to meet early on in a first contact mission. Unless crowns meant something different here. Maybe it was a priest and it was about to obliterate us for treading on the sacred grounds of the sun god. Things became terrifying again.

Before I knew what had happened, our four man group was standing several meters away from the dropship and in the middle of a grassy field. A summer breeze floated across the scene, and I gulped.

"Horse things," I repeated, before mentally shaking myself. "You guys got anything?"

"They're obviously the ones who built this place, even if it looks impossible. Unless they’re servants. Why don't you greet them?" Art asked, and I chuckled.

"Because they're horse things. I doubt they speak Basic Galactic."

"A lot of species did after the re-start, even though most scientists thought that was impossible,” he retorted, and I huffed in response. He was right. Some species just had a remarkably impossible tendency to speak the same language as someone from a completely different planet did. Baffled trillions, and still does. Some suggested that it was due to our link with ancient Earth. From the little we know, Basic Galactic had once been called English.

"You know what? Sure. Let's improvise. The last time we played it by the book, we got run off the planet. Besides, I never break protocol-"

"When have you not broken protocol?"

"-so the least we can do is hope for the best. TACT, lift my visor on three. Onetwothree," I said, and almost instantly the blue tint was replaced by more natural shades as the thick visor lifted to my forehead. The various vital signs and radar that acted as my HUD disappeared with it. I gave a soft, simple smile, hoping I wasn't wrong about smiling be a sign of friendliness. I made sure to direct it at the dark blue horse thing, noting that it only appeared purple through the tint of the visor. First appearances were everything, after all. Unless you happened to land on sacred sun god grounds. Then all bets were off.

It looked slightly taken aback, which was easy to understand. First contact always had that moment where one species looked at another and thought "dang, they're weird looking."

I raised one hand with practiced slowness, spreading my fingers in a customary fashion. I waved, and smiled a tad wider as the creature's mouth hung half open. I took one long, drawn out step forward, and lowered my hand. I totally had this.

"Hello," I greeted in as warm a voice as I could muster. I kept smiling and did my best not to maintain constant eye contact. Some species found it insulting or threatening, and I was also busy observing my surroundings. Like the crazy taser-spears that looked like they could take my head off in a split second. Some part of me regretted not bringing a VALK.

To the left of the dropship was the hedge maze I had seen earlier. Located at intervals were statues depicting the horse things standing in different, mostly heroic positions. Our dropship was nowhere near any of those, and we hadn't appeared to have damaged them on our way down. Good for us, good for them. Good for the sun god.

I turned my attention back to where it should have stayed. Another alien had entered the scene. This one had similar features to the navy blue unicarn thing. I noticed that my previous observations were incorrect; the navy blue horse and the white newcomer both had wings as well as horns. This new white one also had a crown, a golden torc, and a wavy, once more impossible mane that reminded me of a nebula. Or maybe a child’s coloring book.

The blue one took a deep breath, and I instinctively waited for it to use its voice attack and obliterate me. Never underestimate the power of sound-based weapons, my friends. I had faced down quite a few species that could explode your head just by yelling at you. Wasn't about to take that chance here.

Before anyone could be destroyed at the molecular level, the tall white horse thing raised a gold-clad hoof in front of the other, and muttered something. To me, it sounded like what a regular horse would sound like – on the rare occasions I’ve had the pleasure to listen to one. They were in fact an almost extinct species. I’m sure it made sense in whatever language they were using. The blue one looked to me, and then to its comrade. It uttered a huffy, almost sarcastic sounding comment that for some reason or another, made me want to both chuckle and get a face transplant. I didn’t.

Miss Tall-and-White lowered the hoof and turned to face me fully, and I got a good view of its side. Startled, I looked back to the blue one. What I had originally mistook for natural coating on the impossible-haired one was actually a symbol, and it was a simple crescent moon surrounded by, what looked to me, a dark splotch. The image of a blazing sun was on the hindquarters of the second one. Well. That was pretty new, really. We’d never seen something like that before.

Assumptions rushed past my mind, but one in particular was the most prominent. I bet that these two beings were either related in some way, and judging from the symbolism of the sun and moon it was most likely as siblings, or were part of some religious cult that worshipped them as prophets from their sun and lunar deities. Or maybe they had taken a different route and actually were the sun and moon deities. I should probably stop assuming things. Assume too many things and you always end up with some sort of deadly looking weapon pointed at you. Wait a minute, we actually had landed in a religious temple. My mind screamed to abort the mission like a drill sergeant. Or perhaps a drill sergeant who was so scared he was about to wet his pants.

“Sir, watch out! It’s doing something!” Someone screamed in my ear. In my deep thinking I had missed an important detail: The tip of the white one’s horn was giving off a bright light. I could tell from her face of concentration that whatever she was doing relied heavily on focus. A weapon, or perhaps a strange form of attempted communication? The blue umicorn peggersus thing simply stared, and the robot horse things held their ground as well.

I took a defensive step back, one hand resting on the holster of my weapon. “Don’t draw your weapons just yet. That’s an order.” I said calmly, not bothering to look back and check if it was followed. As informal as our relationships were sometimes, the ranks were always made clear on the battlefield. Or in politics. But politics ruin everything.

The glowing stopped, and she – I had gathered from its curved form and general mannerism that it was most likely a female. There was also the voice, which though spoken in a horsish language, certainly sounded feminine. Not really to my surprise, she opened her mouth and spoke. Looks like Art won that round, even though something told me it had to do with the glow-horn.

“Hello, travelers. I do not know what has brought you her, but I look forward to hearing your story.” She said, and it was most definitely a she now, in a calming voice. Almost motherly, even though the mere comparison of my own mother – rest her soul – to a horse was absolutely frightening. I shoved the mental picture out of my head and coughed into a gloved hand, before giving another big grin and taking another step. I made sure to speak slowly, or at least slow enough to sound as friendly as possible.

“Salutations. We are indeed travelers, though we are more explorers, and I cannot wait to speak with you as well. I take it you are some sort of leader?” What I really wanted to ask was “How the hell do you speak Basic?” but we all know how that would have ended. The image of myself impaled on that slender horn was discomforting. I know that particular outcome was very unlikely, but I don’t like the thought of being impaled by anything. I don’t really know why I joined this military in the first place, actually.

I’d been impaled a few times. It’s not exactly a thrilling experience.

“You are correct. My name is Princess Celestia, and this is my sister, Princess Luna.” She nodded at the blue one behind her, who bowed her head in silent greeting.

“We are charmed to make your acquaintance,” she said, and I blinked in surprise. For sisters, they certainly didn’t share the same manner of speaking, or accent. I would have to ask about that, later. But for now, keep up the friendly interloper act.

“And who may I ask, are you – and your friends, of course.” Celestia said, looking back to me. I tapped the side of my helmet twice, fingering at a dial.

“My name is Jackson Amber, Captain of the Intergalactic Wing. Boys?”

“I’m Commander Artzian Boyo. A pleasure, your majesty.” Art said, his own visor sliding up. He took a comical bow, and I felt like smacking him. Or maybe not, actually. The princesses chuckled, and I could see that the guards were slowly backing off. Good.

“Cadet Roland,” the man to my right said, and though I didn’t turn around I could hear his visor slide up. When I did peek, he jabbed a thumb at the other cadet. “And that’s Cadet Dylan... doesn’t talk much.”

I stretched one arm out, sweeping over Art, the cadets, and the dropship. I kept my gaze locked onto Celestia’s. “I’m sorry if we’re intruding on anything. The Galactic Wing strives to make friends of every new planet we stumble upon. If you’re uncomfortable with us being here, we will leave.”

“Nonsense,” Celestia said. “Anypony who knows me would know that, if anything, I love to make new friends. I would be happy to accommodate you if you wish to stay, and you may stay as long as you wish.” I nodded, and glanced back at my companions. They all shared that silent, giddy look, where their faces remained stoic but the joy behind their eyes seemed to flood out. I looked back to see Luna turning around, her wings spread. She faced towards the palace, but glanced at her sister.

“We will make the necessary preparations for our guests,” she said, and to my bafflement, took flight in the direction of the towering white spires. I blinked stupidly, staring at the shrinking figure until Celestia chuckled, drawing my attention back to her. She had stepped closer, and upon further inspection I noticed that she was just above my height, enough so that we could still look each other in the eye without her bending her neck.

“Luna will make sure several guest rooms are fitted, but you may change them to your specific needs, as they were intended for other ponies.”

Ponies. Well that answers that. I resisted chuckling.

She continued, undeterred by my inner exclamation. She did not look anything like a pony. I think horse thing certainly fit her better. “If you wish, you may follow me to the palace. We may discuss future plans during that walk.” I looked back at the dropship “And do not worry about your vehicle, I will make sure the guards do not let anypony near it.”

I clapped my hands together, genuinely beaming up at her. “Thank you for your hospitality, Princess Celestia. I’m glad we stumbled upon your planet.” I turned to face the other three. “Art. You think you can reestablish communications with the Homebound if I lend you TACT? I’m sure we’re not doing the crew any favors, letting them sit up there, bored.”

“Can do, sir. Later, of course. I’d like to get settled in, you know?” he replied, and I nodded in an understanding way. Basically, what I had just asked him was “get ready to call in for reinforcements, I’m scared out of my freaking mind these things might be hostile.” He had replied with “let’s just wait a bit.” At least, that’s what we said on a very basic level.

Military life was like that, and looking back to Celestia, I could tell she was attempting to figure out what I had just said. She looked down at me.

“There are more of you?”

I chuckled, the grin coming back like a horrible infection.

“Yea, of course. You think we flew over ten hun- a really long way in that dinky craft? The Homebound is my ship, currently hiding behind your moon. It’s got a small crew, though, nothing to worry about. It’s a small ship, even. Could probably land easily on the surface of this planet. But that’s getting into too many details, I’ll explain it all later.”

“Very well. I’m sure you have as many questions as I do, and I will do my best to answer yours.” She said, turning her slender frame to point at the palace. Unlike her sister, she did not take flight. Instead, she waited for us to follow.

It was then that I realized that the entire event seemed… awkward. In every possible way, almost. My pants hadn’t fallen off, for sure, but that doesn’t mean anything. I could tell that behind her curious eyes, a thousand questions burned and swirled like a flaming hurricane – and trust me, I’ve seen a flaming hurricane engulfing someone before. Not pretty. I wondered if my own eyes looked the same, because I could tell we both longed to skip this awkward introductory scene and move straight to the meeting tables, or at least the pony version of a meeting table.

I waved to Art and the others, and we followed after her.

“On our way, would you like to discuss the nature of your preferred accommodations?”

“Of course. Maybe later I’ll invite you to join me on my ship.” I offered, being completely sincere. Judging from what I’d seen, none of these ponies knew what space looked like from the inside of a craft. Now, my job was to change that.

~=\/=~

(4) Sound Negotiations

-Canterlot
-Three hours and forty minutes after entering the anomaly
-Royal Gardens

-

Our chat was boring, to say the least. Or rather, ironic. One would expect the first conversation you have with a local during these types of missions to be thrilling. That is utter nonsense. The only thrilling conversation I ever had while on a first contact mission involved me bludgeoning a local rioter with the butt of my gun. Maybe that wasn’t something I wanted to dwell on, though; I phased it from my mind. The details of this conversation were simple. So simple that they’re not even worth reciting, so I won’t, or at least not all of it.

The walk to the palace was short.

“And so you… ponies, well, you made all of this by yourselves?”

“Correct.”

“How old is it?”

“The palace was built long before the city. To my memory, construction started over seven hundred years ago. It stands to reason that we operate on a different time-scale, though, so I do not know how long that would be for you.”

I tapped my helmet. “TACT? Have you been measuring the speed of their sun like I asked you to before we got on the dropship?”

“Of Course,” the automated voice said, projected from a small speaker in the back of my helmet. I had changed the output so the ponies, specifically the princess, could hear it. Things like that added to the shock-and-awe factor, and in any diplomatic relationship, the one with the most shock-and-awe points always wins. “In Response To Your Inevitable Question: One Day On This Planet Would Be Almost Twenty Four Hours Galactic Standard Time.” Even though I had removed my visor, leaving myself without any HUD, I flicked my gaze over to Celestia’s incredulous face. She hadn’t heard TACT speak yet. She’d just have to get used to it.

“Excellent. Got that out of the way. I’m glad you’ve taken such good care of your history, Princess Celestia. I’ve seen many people who don’t. Sometimes, they even shun it, and lots of beautiful works of art have been destroyed over the years because of it.”

“That is,” Celestia whispered in what I at least interpreted to be a heartfelt manner, “so very sad. Some on this very world we call home have attempted to do the same. Forgetting history only hurts you. It is good to know that you appreciate it.”

“Yea. I’m a big history buff, at least compared to everyone I know. There was an old saying, more of a warning, really… ‘those who forget their history are apt to repeat it’, I think. There are lots different versions of it, but the meaning stays the same every time. I suppose you have your own form of it, don’t you?”

“We do. Some life lessons must be learned by all kinds, whether pony or... I’m sorry for my rudeness, but what are you?” Her long, swanlike neck swiveled towards me, and her pink eyes bored into me. I don’t know what it was, or how she managed to do it, but those eyes hadn’t stopped unnerving me since we’d arrived. There was too much life behind them, too much age. Too much to be normal, at least.

“To my knowledge, my crew and I are varying species. You aren’t the first we’ve come upon, though definitely the first equine... I’m sorry, yes. Everyone down here is known as Human-V, except for Dylan. He’s a robot.” I swallowed, a vicious grin hopping onto my lips when Celestia jerked her gaze over to the helmeted soldier. “Joking. He just likes the helmet, I think. In particular, I’m Kaidenerian. Bit of a mouthful, I know.”

“Well, Equestria is used to housing non-ponykind within its borders, even though my subjects prefer to stay under my rulership. I- Oh, I’ll be, we’ve been talking for quite a while. We’re here, everyp- everyone. Welcome to Canterlot Castle, Captain Amber, and company.”

The palace wasn’t as white as it was on the outside. It was the kind of washed-out marble you’d expect to see on something so ancient, even if it was plainly obvious that countless servants worked even more hours to keep it clean and sparkling. Some things, like that, didn’t go past my eyes. Looking for black ships against the black of space long taught me the art of paying attention to details when I needed to, and as for Canterlot I could go on for pages describing every little important bit that made it the exquisite masterpiece it was when those large double doors opened. It, in one word, was very regal. We stood in the threshold for a moment, taking baby steps into the great hallway that was the entrance. Various depictions of what appeared to be, at first glance, heroic battles in their history were made into stained glass windows along the hallway, the sun’s rays shone through in bright beams of colored light, bits of dust flitting about in them. The carpet looked soft; I wasn’t about to rub my face against it to check, though.

Luna’s proud form was standing at the end, where the stained glass and marble columns disappeared to reveal various hallways and doors, no doubt leading to other luxurious parts of the castle, palace, or whatever this place really was. Behind her were two large doors similar to the ones at the entrance. These, however, looked to be a little more ornate, and also locked. In the middle of the lock was a simple, round hold. I’m sure nobody would ever be able to replicate that key.

We quickened our pace at that, and the only sound as we cleared the distance between us and the second princess was our heavy footfalls on the carpet, and the soft clunking of our sidearms bouncing against our thighs. The air wasn’t really tense, but I felt an immense amount of respect floating through it. This place had a lot of history in it.

Seven hundred plus years, she said. They must have been at least marginally advanced to built something like this, then. If this place really was ancient Terra, and by now I was having doubts, then it might just place such an advancement at the perfect spot. I would have to inquire, later. After the political garbage.

We stopped in front of Luna, and since I was still mentally jarred by the silly mental image of Celestia inserting her horn into that lock, I said the stupidest thing possible.

“Your hair’s impossible, you know.”

She raised an eyebrow for a moment, and dismissed the comment. Good. I didn’t like her accent anyway. Reminded me too much of a few villains I had fought in the past. They were always pretty uppity, going into long rants about how everyone else was below them, and then normally they’d try to do something stupid like explode the nearest inhabited planet’s star.

“Anyway. We- I have alerted the staff to the presence of our guests, and their rooms are being prepared as we speak.”

Yup. Still hated the accent.

“Thank you, sister. Now.” Celestia turned her neck to look back at me and the others. “Was your trip tiring, or do you think you could chat with us for a while?”

“I’m fine,” I looked back to face my posse. “I’m sure they’re good too. Right? Right. Where shall we discuss our business?”

“Business?” Celestia asked, peering curiously at me. This was it, and those were those darned eyes. I mentally prepped myself for what I was about to ask, full well knowing I wouldn’t even be getting into specifics. I hated this part of the job, but at the same time I just couldn’t get enough of it. That makes sense, right?

“I’m afraid that, despite the fact that we are friendly explorers, we came here for a reason. A business deal, you could say, but it’s much more than that. It will take a while to explain, and I’d rather I had a place to sit. It’s heavy stuff to discuss in the middle of an open hallway, if you know what I mean,” I said, and took a deep breath. There was a long pause, and Celestia turned to her sister for a moment. I held that deep breath, and listened as the last echoes of my voice faded.

“Luna, I will discuss these matters with Captain Amber alone. You may take his companions to your study to learn what you can from them. I think it would be best to hit as many targets at once for this. We will share our findings later.”

“I agree,” Luna said, and looked at Art behind me. “You are Artzian Boyo. You and your subordinates may follow us for a tour.”

“Sure.” Art shrugged, and patted me on the shoulder. “Looks like I got off easy, eh? Best of luck with the proposal. You can never tell how each people will react to it, heh.”

My mirthless chuckle echoed like the sound of dead kittens as Art and the two cadets followed Luna down another winding hallway. They disappeared behind a corner, and I turned to face Celestia. She seemed much taller and menacing now that we were alone, and after the news of my ‘proposal’, I’m sure she felt a bit more wary about me. A small sliver of fear dug itself into the bottom of my stomach, or maybe my liver.

“We will talk in my chambers. Do you have any problem with teleporting?”

“No,” I said, thinking of the VALK. I had used it enough times to become immune to the nauseating effects. “But you don’t have any device on yo-“ I was interrupted by a blinding light, a sudden rush of air, and the feeling of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I wobbled for a moment, then looked at Celestia.

“We are here,” Celestia said, turning to face a fireplace that, upon immediate inspection, had totally not been there before. I took a quick survey of my surroundings. The room was large, for one. We appeared to be at one end of the castle, and a balcony off to my right gave a full view of the landscape below. To my left was that large fireplace, and directly behind me was a majestic bed, covered in symbols similar to the one tattooed on Celestia’s flank. I turned around, and behind me were other various things you’d find in a bedroom. Wardrobe, mirror, the works. All very royal and official looking, if you catch my drift. Wouldn’t be right of me to observe any further, you know?

“Come, sit with me. You may take Luna’s pillow. I’m sure she won’t mind,” Celestia said, and I jerked around to see she was already sitting on one of the large pillows. It was white, just like her, and from what I could see, bore the same mark as the bed and her rear did. The other was the same, but styled to fit Luna’s color and mark. I slowly walked over, and plopped cross-legged down in front of her. The fire sprang to life.

“I’m sure we both have many questions to ask each other, Jackson,” she started, “but first, why don’t you take your helmet off? I can’t imagine it was designed for situations like this.” I nodded, and wordlessly slid my fingers around the edges of the helmet, slowly unlocking it from the rest of my suit. It felt awkward, to say the least. My eyes met hers and locked; this was a test, and I had just failed.

“It wasn’t,” I said plainly, closing the helmet’s visor and setting it on the carpet next to me. I sighed, and took a deep breath. There was a long pause, and the fire seemed happy to crackle over the silence.

“This proposal?”

“May I be blunt about it, Celestia? I hate giving the long and frivolous speech that my superiors always prepare for this situation. In the end, the message is always the same.”

“You may.”

I paused, and looked to the side. A bit of my matted hair fell into my eyes, and I brushed it away with a gloved hand. “I gotta ask a question first. When was the last war, or at least major conflict, your race has had?”

There was a long, awkward pause. I didn’t look to see what Celestia’s expression was, I didn’t want to, and judging from her voice, I didn’t need to.

“Last major conflict? One thousand and one years ago,” she finally said. “Why?”

There was another pause, and I looked up to face Celestia. We were equal in height while standing, but now, when it counted, she seemed to tower over me not unlike the Canterlot palace did when I’d first entered.

“The galaxy can be very, very dangerous and twice as unforgiving. You’re beyond lucky that the Wing found you first. I can name several groups that wouldn’t bother with first contact, Celestia. One moment, you’d all be happy and well, and the next, the surface of your planet would be glass. We, my people, we’re not like that. We never have been, and we hope to never be.”

“I see,” she said simply, her face, which was a political face if I ever saw one, perfectly poised in that one neutral stance that I had dealt with so many times before. Being told your entire species could easily be wiped out couldn’t be a good thing to hear. I would know. I’d been through it before. “This is relevant?”

“Yes, it is. You see, my people…we call ourselves The Wing, sometimes with an Intergalactic in there, and sometimes with with an Elite. We like to think of ourselves as protectors. Bodyguards, almost. For decades, we’ve flown across the galaxy, contacting planets like yours. Lush, valuable planets that others would seek to destroy. Each time we offered our help, to protect them from those that would do them harm until they felt they no longer needed our help… or until our forces could no longer protect them, and if that came to pass, we would still fight to our deaths protecting them. Such events are... luckily, very rare.”

“You are going to ask if you could protect us, from the ‘galaxy’? You are saying that if we deny you, you will simply go on your way and leave us to be destroyed or assimilated by any evildoer that comes our way, and if we accept you then you will always have the threat of abandoning us to this fate?”

Well. She caught on fast.

“The galaxy, overall, is a good place. But you can’t honestly sit there and tell me that every resident of your planet is good, nice, or whathaveyou. We protect those who cannot protect themselves, and in some instances we expect nothing in return. For instance, your planet is too… ah... um, technologically... incapable... of repaying us for our services. At the same time, that makes you extra vulnerable to other factions.”

“I understand, and I think your goal is very noble. I can respect anyone who seeks to protect those unable to protect themselves. Tell me, this technology of yours is not reserved for only your faction, correct? I was curious if... no, I’m sorry, my mind is muddled. Please let me collect my thoughts.”

Yet another pause shifted into the room like a silent snake. I sat uncomfortably in my seat, wishing I had my visor covering my face so I could look away without feeling awkward. Pillows were nice to lay your head on, not sit on, you know. She looked at the fire for a long while. Maybe five, ten minutes. My sense of time might’ve been off. At that point my brain had almost shut itself down, because the very thought of my superiors discovering such a drastic breach in protocol sent shivers down my spine. I had gotten away with a lot over my years in the Wing, but this might be the final straw. Would they shoot me out of an airlock for it?

I hated getting shot out of airlocks.

At long last, Celestia turned to look at me with the solemn eyes of a tired leader. I’d seen them many times before. I’d worn them before. “I cannot speak for the other nations on our planet, but I will certainly think on your offer, but...” I nodded slowly, my heart automatically going just a little bit faster than it should have been. “Is it possible for you to share some of your technology with us, so that we may better defend ourselves? I believe in settling differences peacefully, but I am fully aware that some do not share the same sentiment and that I must make sure my people are safe. My powers only extend so far. If I see results, I will most likely accept your offer fully,”

“It may take at least a month, with varying results, before we can prop- Wait. Wait. Princess, we do actually have a first-contact ‘kit’ on the Homebound, and I know that has some proper technologies in it, in case we needed to trade them. Then there’s all the medical kits, vaccines... whoo, boy, you ponies aren’t especially afraid of needles, right? I, ah, I... digress. I could leave a few of my crew under your care until we can send more ships back, which might take a week or two. I’m sure that by then, we could get your nation its first starship,” I paused, and Celestia opened her mouth to speak. I interrupted her with a raised finger. “And for the record, I also believe in settling matters peacefully, while at the same time staying prepared for the worst. I definitely respect your decision, and I think you’ve done the right thing. I wouldn’t expect anything else from an experienced, well-rounded leader.” I lowered my finger, and waited for her to speak.

“Thank you. You seem like a good person, Jackson, and I am glad it was you who stepped out from that craft.”

“And I’m glad it was you who greeted me.”

“I accept your terms for now, and I foresee a bright relationship between our two peoples. There is something else, though. I am curious to know as much about this galaxy as I can, up close. As we both know, the things you have told me could simply be a lie, and it would be foolish of me to blindly accept your offer. Nevertheless, it appears my subjects and I are in this for the long run, so I will need experience.”

“Well,” I said, my brain going into overdrive. There was no situation for this. If she was suggesting a tour, that might not be such a good idea. Maybe if we brought her sister, or whichever had the lesser duties, but it would paint a target right on our backs. Ambassadors could take forever to handle, though, and I hated politicians like that... wait, ambassadors. As the gears in my mind ground together, a thin smile appeared on my face. “There is an ambassador… program, of sorts. It’s unofficial, but I can take up to nine members of your race with me on my return trip to Wing space. After I leave I could pass the duties of overseeing our alliance to someone else that I trust, perhaps Commander Boyo, and then go on to give them a tour of sorts. I couldn’t ask you to leave your planet for that, though. You’re a leader, and your people need you - and your sister. Especially during the complicated moments in early first-contact.” And I’m going to make sure the Commander has some very good questions up his sleeve concerning why you’re on what should be ourplanet, Celestia.

She smiled back. It was the sly smile of either a corrupt politician or a mad genius. “I think I know seven of my subjects that would be perfect for that job. You said that the galaxy, despite the good, was still dangerous?”

“Everything from walking down the street to dancing at a party is dangerous if you think about it hard enough, but yes. I can assure you I will put their safety at the top of my priorities.”

“Good. You said it was unofficial. Would your leader, or leaders, be unhappy with the direction you are taking this? I would hate to see your good intentions muddled by politics.”

“Bah, politics ruin everything. Heheh - no nono, I’m sure they’d be fine with it. I’ve been with the Wing longer than even the current leader, and if I had a ticket for how many times they turned to me for advice... well, I’d have a lot of tickets. You shouldn’t fear for me, even though I’ve already broken a ton of rules in the past ten minutes.”

The conversation seemed to jump off a cliff we hadn’t noticed, and we stared at the fire for a while again; it was nice.

“By the way...” I said, looking back to Celestia. My tone was dangerous, thin, and borderline accusatory, but this was important. “Do you realize there is a fairly large anomaly of unknown origins and substance surrounding your sys-“

BANG.

Celestia and I both jerked our heads towards the closed wooden door, the echoes of the familiar sound echoing through the halls. Familiar, and exactly the same sound I didn’t want to hear on this planet. Celestia looked at me. “What was tha-“

BANG BANG BANG.

“Nothing good,” I grumbled, and in one swift movement I launched myself from the pillow with my arms, bobbing a little on the carpet as I regained my footing. Still stumbling, I jogged to the door, pulling at the large pistol at my side. It was a bulky gun, made to look like it could inflict a lot of damage if it shot you, and it was one of those books you could definitely judge by its cover.

The other members of my party had their own sidearms, but mine was of my own design. Officer’s pistol, to be precise. Only Captains, Admirals, and the leader were allowed to carry one. It was Kaiden Tech, my own design, and it was nothing short of a personal cannon. Using it was a privilege, and anyone who did had to be careful.

“Do you expect danger?” Celestia asked, suddenly standing right next to me. I nodded, and kicked down her door. I’m sure she didn’t mind, after all, something dangerous could be happening. I’d pay for it later, if she asked. Alright, alright, I just wanted to kick down her door. Can you blame a guy? I turned to where I thought the sound had come from, Celestia sticking close to my side.

“Which way to the study? Or can you just tele- Ah, of cour-“ I was interrupted by yet another bright light coming from Celestia’s horn. Did these ponies always waste tons of energy on teleportation, or were they just showing off? More importantly, how did she manage it? I’d have to inquire about that later. Plus one shock-and-awe for team Horse Thing.

We appeared in a room that looked exactly like how I’d expect a study to look. I didn’t bother to pay attention to the details other than the obvious. Full bookshelves lined the walls, and tables with various instruments on them, from mathematical to cartographical. Floating through the air, I could just smell the polluted air that a heat sink from Kaiden Tech weaponry expelled. I spun in a tight circle, the bulky pistol lowered to the floor. From the corner of my eye, I could see that another glow had appeared on Celestia’s horn. If she had enough energy in her own body to pull off two teleports, I wouldn’t want to be the enemy under her ire.

I stopped, and set my sights on the open doorway to yet another marble balcony, and rushed over to the threshold with controlled, quick steps, the business end of my weapon pointed at whatever lay beyond.

“And when this little light blinks red, it means it’s overheating, and needs to take at least ten seconds to cool down with the heat sin- oh. Hey, Jackson.”

“Whoa! Don’t shoot, man.”

Dylan just stared, still hiding behind her helmet visor. Or him. Whatever.

Art, the cadets, and Luna were all standing in a semicircle at one end of the balcony. Art was holding his pistol sideways, showing it to Luna while the other two watched. All in all, it looked fairly innocent. The little logical man in me instantly deducted that Art was merely showing the device to Luna, and the noises were merely a demonstration. Nevertheless, the last thing I needed was some idiot spoiling Terra for everyone else.

“Commander Boyo, I would do well to remind you that this is a peace mission. We aren’t here to show the ponies how well we blow things up. Maybe later when we start working together on defenses, but not now.”

“Ah... alright,” Art said, moving to strap the gun to his side. I nodded, and turned to Celestia. She had stopped whatever it was that made her horn glow. She looked down at me, and raised an eyebrow.

“Now, about those ‘ambassadors’ you mentioned, Celestia. When can I expect to see them? I’ve got a tight schedule to keep, and we can only afford so much of a pause. I need to leave within twenty four hours, a day for you, or I won’t be able to leave at all.”

“I have a direct contact with one of them, and even though they’re all in a town some ways away, I’ll make sure they have a direct route to Canterlot on the next train, so they’ll be here in a few hours. They’re very adventurous, and I have no doubt they'll accept if I ask them to go.”

“Good. The galaxy is chock full of adventure. They’ll fit right in.”

“I hope so.”

~=\/=~

(5) Theatrics

-Canterlot Castle, Canterlot, Equestria.

-Seven hours after first contact.

-Throne room.

-

Truth be told, I hadn’t found the courage to ask about the anomaly after that. I’ll admit, I can stare down the enemy army like it’s nobody’s business, but this lady just put me off for some reason or another. Not in the bad, she’s-really-evil way, but in almost a motherly way, like I’d feel stupid for asking such an obvious question. So I let the conversation flow to other subjects, like who she was specifically thinking of sending on the ambassadorial tour of the galaxy. I was pretty surprised to learn that she was continuing her odd sort of wisdom streak by deciding to send ponies who had almost no experience in politics. A baker, a farmer, an athlete, and hell, she said she’d even be sending a fashion designer.

I was not having that pony ruin any of my clothes. Maybe the rest of the crew’s, but she’d be under orders to spare mine. My uniform is special. It’s an original Wing uniform. No extra pins, fancy add-ons, and it’s not made of new fabric. I’ve had it for twenty years. No touchy.

Interestingly enough, she was also calling in her personal student and her assistant. She’d shown me some old pictures that she’d kept in old, intricate wooden picture frames on one of the study’s shelves. And her assistant, the first non-pony being I’d seen at least a picture of since we arrived, looks pretty neat. Offhandedly, she’d said that they were the only ponies that could use “The Elements” and I assumed that was some sort of secret pony weapon-of-mass-destruction. I’d learn more on it later, I guess. Every gun counts.

While her ambassadors rode the train to Canterlot, we ended up on the subject of theater, and how acting skills often ran in par with politics. It was nice, finally speaking freely about such matters without wondering if the person behind you was going to stick a viro-blade into your back a few seconds afterwards. The two of us talked, and then we decided to set up something special for when Twilight and her friends arrived. Something dramatic; spectacular.

“Once more, again, I really hope you can forgive me for buzzing down, stealing your little ponies from you, then flying off into the unknown with them. Normally it takes weeks for little things like that to get settled. But, you know, the ship and...” I sighed, leaning against the far wall of the throne room. I had to practically shout just for my voice to reach over to the throne. I had asked why there were two princesses and one throne, but she only spouted some nonsense about how Luna ruled the night and she the day. It sounded a bit religious, but then again, our scanners showed the entire system was geocentric. A scientific impossibility I was sure that many of the Wing scientists would dig into. It was the only thing that gave me doubt about the planet being Terra, besides the fact that it couldn’t possibly be Terra in the first place.

“It is understandable that you are in a hurry, Captain Amber, and I have faith you will keep my subjects safe. You are leaving several of your own crew here when you leave, though, so I would have to say it’s a fair trade,” Celestia said from the other side, only for some mystical reason, she didn’t seem to be raising her voice at all, and yet I heart it as if she was right in front of me. Freaky.

We had talked a lot, and she showed great interest in her subjects. Keeping them safe, happy, at peace. It was all on her agenda. She would never put them in a dangerous situation.

I wasn’t like that. The only reason I had pulled a bunch of random cadets out of the Academy was because I needed a bunch of schulps ready to get killed before me, just in case things went awry. It wasn’t the worst policy a leader could have, all things considered. Most of the time, everyone had a VALK and was essentially safe during battle, even the lower ranks. My train of thought was interrupted by hoofsteps, and the echoes of faint voices coming through the doors.

“Well, girls, we’re here. The throne room is just down there.”

“We’ve been here before, darling. Besides, nopony could miss those doors.”

“Whaddya reckon the Princess needed us so urgently for? I mean, I’d go to the ends ‘ah Equestria if she needed me to, since I think Big Mac can handle the farm without me, but getting mysterious notes like this might get old if’n she keeps it up.”

“Whatever it is, it’s gotta be awesome! I mean, otherwise she wouldn’t have asked us to pack for a long trip, right? Right!”

“Eeee! I’m so exciting I think I might just explode!”

“Please don’t, Pinkie. The Princess said she needed all of us.

Various voices drifted down the hallway. Female voices. Young voices. I could deal with younger ambassadors on my ship, as long as they didn’t mess with the airlock. Hoo boy, the airlock would have to be sealed tight. Totally off-limits for the ponies. Open airlocks mean dead ponies, and dead ponies are bad for business, and definitely bad in general.

“Um, where are the guards?” one of the voices said.

Funny, now that whoever-that-was just mentioned it, I hadn’t really paid attention to the robot-pony guards. Celestia had told me they were just called Royal Guards, both pegasus and unicorn. Pagasus; I was so close. I continued to listen, taking deep breaths as their hoofsteps came closer. The art of being silent was something I’d honed over the years, especially after all of the tense situations I’d been in throughout them.

“I’m sure they’re on break or something, Fluttershy. It’s almost time for lunch and even the guards need to eat.”

So what if robots didn’t eat? I’d call them what I want.

“Let’s make ourselves a bit more presentable, dears. Just a quick little touch up...“

According to our plan, I was to stand next to the large double doors. I would be a few feet to the left if you were entering the room. Celestia sat on her throne, mane still blowing in that stupid invisible breeze that she had purposefully ignored my question about, only offering a sly smile in response. The doors swung inwards, so I was unable to get a proper look at the newcomers until they swung shut once more, and the seven beings stepped to the middle of the room.

A lavender coated unicorn stepped towards the throne, tailed by what looked to be a purple lizard. Twilight Sparkle and Spike, I remembered. Celestia hadn’t said whether or not he had anything to do with the so called Elements, but he apparently acted as Twilight’s pet wireless device that she could use to keep in instantaneous contact with the Princesses. Celestia had shown me a demonstration when she sent the summons to her student. It wasn’t exactly a radio or data-pad call, but it was interesting nonetheless. I hadn’t asked how she did it; knowing would probably boggle my mind, advanced technology like that.

“We’re here, Princess Celestia.”

Good job stating the obvious, miss Sparkle. I can see why you’re Celestia’s personal student… no offense to Celestia. I’m sorry. That was mean of me.

“Welcome, Twilight. I’m sure you’re curious to know why I called you here on such short notice."

“Yea, what’s up with that?” said a cyan, flamboyant, loud pegasus that was hovering above the group. Her voice grated against my ears, and I resisted the urge to snort. “I mean, I’m all for saving Equestria for like… the third time now, but still!”

“It’s not like you got anything to do. I’ve got a farm to run ‘an a family to take care of,” the hat-wearing one said. It was a nice hat, and I think it fit her. I’d have to compliment it sometime. I used to wear a hat like that. Got blown to bits one time, though, and all the other hats just weren’t the same.

“Yes, I’m afraid that, while I’m not going to ask you to save Equestria, I am going to have to ask you a favor on its behalf. It’s a rather large thing to ask, and it will take some time to explain in full.”

“Anything, Princess. We’ve got your back! Lemme’ at ‘em, lemme’ at ‘em!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, punching a hoof in the air in a twist of hyperactivity I wasn’t prepared for, and II almost chuckled to myself. This was my cue, and I quietly stepped behind the group of mares, just between them and the doors.

“First. I’d like to introduce you to someone. You’ll be with him for the next few weeks. He’s a bit different, so please try to go easy on him,” Celestia said, smirking ever so slightly as she nodded at me. I put on my best welcoming smile, and patted down my uniform. I had changed out of my armor last night, and once more wore the dark grey and black jacket that was my uniform. The only other color was the gold wings on each shoulder, the four orange stars near my neckline, and the seal of the Wing next to them. It had served me well over the years. It was a relic.

The Wing’s symbol was simple. It was one color: gold. A large diamond, the gem, not the shape, shadowed by two outstretched eagle wings, and we stuck it wherever we could. On our ships, our uniforms, our official papers, our guns. The entire galaxy knew that symbol, even if they didn’t know the name behind it. It had stayed that way since the Wing was founded, and I doubted they’d forget us, even after we were long gone.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was my breathing and the soft patter as I smoothed out my jacket. The six ponies and dragon all turned to face me, their expressions turning to shock, fear, surprise, and… joy. That last one was Pinkie Pie.

“Oh?” Twilight asked.

“Uhh…” Applejack said.

“Eep…” Fluttershy squeaked.

“Uh, AWESOME!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, wiping the shock off her face and zipping in front of me in what felt like less than a nanosecond. I could feel something pink and probably very dangerous circling me, giving me scrutinizing looks. “What are you? I mean, I’ve seen minotaurs before, but nothing like you!”

“The real question is: who are you?” Pinkie asked, appearing in between Rainbow Dash and my face. I don’t want to know how she managed to just get there, with both hooves on my shoulders. “And more importantly, do you like cupcakes? And are you an alien? A robot? An alien robot from the planet Plutuiper?! Do your alien robots like cupcakes? Are there more of you? Because if there’s more, tell me now, so I don’t have to throw more than one ‘Welcome to Equestria, alien robots’ party! Actually, wait, no! Then I can throw even more parties!”

For the record, there is no such planet as Plutuiper. There was, but it got blown up.

I blinked, and discovered I had backed up into the doors. I looked at Celestia with my best puppy-dog-eyes, then back down to Pinkie, who had apparently jumped off my shoulders at one point.

“This is Captain Amber. Yes, I suppose you could call him an alien, because he’s not from Equestria nor our own world, but he’s here on a peace mission. He is not a robot, and I believe he said he was a- sorry, what was it again?”

“Human-V. I’m from the late planet Kaiden, and I’m here,” I stepped forward a little, fixing my disheveled uniform as I did. I looked right at Twilight, who Celestia had said was their groups little leader figure. How adorable. “I’m here to ask you all something. I-. Fluttershy? I’m no expert, Fluttershy, but you should probably take a breath. Breathing makes living a lot easier.”

There was a long pause as Fluttershy took a few deep breaths, looking from me to Celestia in a panic. She had ruined my dramatic speech by not breathing. How rude. Some people would shoot them on the spot after such an act. Good thing I wasn’t some people.

“It’s alright, little one. He won’t bite.”

“Much,” I smirked, giving the pegasus a sly wink. Judging by the slight look of confused horror that dawned on her face, that was the wrong move. Nix the jokes from now on. “I mean, um, omnivore. But still. A pleasure to meet you all.”

Twilight took a slow step forward, looking up at me in awe and fear, or some sort of weird mix of the two. A little dash of bravery could thrown in for good measure. She was good leader material, for sure. Her friends gathered around and behind her, giving me the same looks. Except for Pinkie Pie, she was just grinning manically. Note to self, don’t let that one near any of the weaponry on the ship, or the airlock. Definitely not the airlock.

“Um, hello there, Captain Amber…. You said ‘late’ planet Kaiden?”

“That is currently irrelevant,” I said as quickly as the words left her mouth. “As I said, I have something to ask you all.” I stepped back to the door, and dramatically spread my arms out. At least as dramatically as I could, which was to say, not much. I was never good at being dramatic, “Would you all like to see the galaxy?”

There was silence for a moment as all the ponies, and the dragon lizard thing, stared at me with open mouths. Rainbow Dash slowly plopped back on to the ground. Pinkie Pie giggled, and my smile wavered for just a moment. I took a deep breath, and did my best to save face.

“I’m asking if you’d like to join me on my ship, the Homebound, and leave Equestria for a few weeks. I’ve already spoken to Celestia about the specifics, and we’ve come to a few agreements about this. I’m allowed to bring at least nine ambassadors to represent Celestia, Luna, and all of Equestria on this tour, and she chose you seven. I, uh, I actually don’t have much time here, and we’ll be leaving this evening. I’m sure that will give you enough time to write letters to family and discuss these matters in private. I’ve got a lot to organize and prepare as well, and though I’d love to stay and get to know you all personally before the trip, I have to go take care of some things.” I nodded and gestured at Celestia, each of them turned to face the princess, and with one foot I opened the throne room door a crack.

“So I’ll leave you to ask Celestia any questions you’d like. She’s cleared her schedule, so feel free to take as much time as you’d, ah… of course, I am still leaving soon, so be quick in your decisions,” I said with a vicious, merciless grin at Celestia, and without another breath stepped outside. The door thudded shut and I spun on one heel, smiling bravely. There were not several muffled outcries of distressful tones coming from the throne room, because I made sure to ignore them all. I actually didn’t know if she had cleared her schedule to deal with them. Sorry, Celestia. Please don’t stab me with your horn.

There was a whole lot to do. Art had managed to set up a communications device with the help of TACT and his scanner module. Afterward, he had opted to take the dropship up to the Homebound. Dylan and Roland were on a learning spree with Luna, soaking in as much Equestrian knowledge as possible. Or at least, Dylan was. I’m sure Roland was busy telling heroic, completely fabricated tales from the Wing’s past antics; they better be fabricated, at least. Well, I’m sure that he was just bragging about them, really. No harm done.

Hopefully.

(6) Turnout Ponies

-Canterlot, Equestria.

-Eleven hours after first contact.

-Royal Hedge Maze.

-

“Well, Celestia?” I asked. We had walked along the Canterlot garden maze to pass the time while everything was being prepared. Mazes and puzzles were some of the many things I liked, and a hedge maze was really just a large maze on hard mode.. It had taken us, even with Celestia’s knowledge of how the maze worked, at least an hour to locate the exit, and I shouldn’t shake the feeling that some malevolent force was causing the walls to move sometimes. We were just at the end, walking out into the gardens, a statue on either side of us. One celebrating an ancient musician, and the other some earth pony hoisting a flag up.

“Hm?” She looked down at me with one eye, raising an eyebrow in a careless gesture. That was another thing I liked about her. She wasn't afraid to show emotion like most politicians were. Most were still in the mindset that they needed a poker-face to get by in life. In fact, they might've been wrong. Celestia's odd motherly appearance - and I say that in completely light terms; I never really knew my mother - seemed to make me want to trust her more, rather than criticize her skills at political manipulations.

But then again, she had quickly accepted my "deal", even before I offered the ambassadors. Something had to be up with that.

“You never told me if your ‘ambassadors’ had accepted their mission to explore the unknown with me, and, uh, also, sorry for leaving you like that. When I saw them for myself, I had the immediate urge to go alert my crew about our approaching situation,” I said, taking a hesitant breath before adding “If you get what I mean by ‘situation’ that is.

“Well a few of them were reluctant, but it was a unanimous decision once they figured out that good friends stick together. They’ll be coming. I’m sure you’ll love them, even if they can sometimes be a little bit excitable. How did your own crew react?”

“Ah, hmm,” I paused as we turned at one of the statues, heading in the direction of the landing zone. I had discussed things with Evo over the communications line Art had set up, and we’d decided that keeping the Homebound in orbit would be the best decision, rather than wasting time landing it on the surface, even if it would get us another shock-and-awe point. The Homebound, being of my design, was made to be able to land on the ground and take off straight into the air. Only a few of my other ships did that because it took up a lot of energy, and energy was money, something the Wing was running short on nowadays.

“Art was a little bit disappointed that I’d be leaving him behind. Being ‘grounded’, as it’s called, is sort of a taboo if you’re one of the officers that sticks to space. We’ve always had the urge to fly, and not just in atmosphere. He’ll get better once the supply ships start coming to give him some more toys. Otherwise, he was, uh, ‘happy’ I’d put him in charge of this whole operation,” I said, even if Art had been a little bit more than ecstatic over the news. Managing the alliance with Terra was a dream come true. “And, uh, for the four others I’m leaving behind, I don’t know. Art’ll keep them in line, and I’ve told them they’re under your command as well. That leaves me with a crew of five, not counting myself. I’ll ask them about their opinions later. What else did your ambassadors think?”

“Most of them can’t wait. I said before, they’re very adventurous ponies. Pinkie Pie especially… you may want to be wary of her.”

“How much did they pack? I mean, the dropship doesn’t have any problems with weight, but it doesn’t have much space on the inside.”

“After you had left the throne room, I figured you didn’t plan on having guests on your ship, so I made sure to tell them to keep it to one bag per pony. Rarity, though… I, forgive me. It’s rude to gossip.”

“Too true,” I said absent-mindedly, looking up at the sky as a device hanging from my ear buzzed. I reached up and tapped a button on the side, and a familiar hum filled my ear. “Art, that you? Over.”

“No sir, this is Cadet Lilian Andres,” replied a female voice. Funny, normally women didn’t join the Wing, and she had the same last name as Evo if my memory served correct. I wonder how I’d ended up with one in my crew, and more importantly, I wanted to know how I hadn’t noticed her in the cadet line-up. I hadn’t personally chosen the crew, at least, so I knew I wasn’t that stupid. “Dropship One-Kay-One-Ninety-Six spotting the marked landing zone. Coming in over your position, over.”

“I have visual. Proceed as usual, and make sure to drop the package off to the side before you land, over,” I said, letting go of the button as the bulbous, light grey shape streaked over us. I looked over to Celestia and flashed a smile. “We were given a small ‘first-contact’ pack, in case of a situation just like this. Nothing major, just something for Art and my four crew members to work off of while they’re stranded here.”

“I don’t mind at all. This is very exciting,” Celestia said, giving me the same smile and a kind of wink that only one smart leader can pass on to another, with a sort of appreciative twinkle in both eye. I can always value a good leader, and she sure as hell fit the bill, horse thing or not. “Twilight and her friends should be waiting at the landing zone with all their stuff. Where are Commander Boyo and the other two?”

I pressed a different button this time, the soft mesh of the mic pressing against my face. “Art, where are you, Roland, and Dylan? Over.”

“We’re at the landing zone with miss Sparkle and her friends, just getting to know them and all. The dropship is landing right now – is it safe to open the ramp that early? Over.”

“Alright. Me and the Princess are on our way. It’s right around the next corner or so. Over.” I said, quickly shutting the device off before turning to stare at Celestia, who hadn’t even spared the conversation a second glance.

“Hm?” She peered curiously at me.

“Oh, I- it’s nothing, you just don’t seem all that surprised by the wonders of technology. Some races just fawn over this stuff. We had a whole religion set up around us after one first-contact mission.”

“We have our own technology, and you’ve already seen our magic, and while our technology isn’t up to par with yours, magic provides many luxuries,” Celestia said, and we both turned around another statue. From here we could see the dropship. The four crewmen I had ordered to come gound-side, each wearing their armor, had hopped out and were gawking around like schoolchildren. I sighed, and silently watched as Art lugged a few of the girls’ bags into the back of the ship with no help from any of them. Just behind the craft was a very large looking metallic crate, which Roland and Dylan were tentatively circling. I could see Twilight, Spike, and their friends forming a half circle a few yards away, staring at the ship with varying expressions of awe, fear, and Pinkie-ness. Celestia had warned me about her. The airlock would definitely be locked.

Celestia had told me about magic, and explained the very basics, like how only those with a unicorn horn could use it, what it could do, etcetera. I’ll be honest, the term “magic” makes me think of witchcraft and demon-summoning right off the bat, but when she explained further, it made sense. I chock it up to it just being magic and generally hard to explain, which might seem odd for a man who placed so much faith in technology, but I’ve seen entire fleets crushed by mere willpower. That’s pretty much magic if you ask me.

You heard me right. There are, as we call them, "psychics" in the galaxy. Luckily for everyone else, they’re pretty rare, but the ones we do get are normally very powerful. I'd had the misfortune to run into a few, mostly on the nasty end of their powers. They could crush entire ships, tear people limb from limb, cause buildings to collapse, and all just by looking at them. When it came to that kind of power, you were either born with it naturally, got it through drug stimulants, or meditated for over half your lifetime. The latter of them had yet to see real results.

So, yes. I believe in magic. Sue me.

“That, uh, reminds me, you said that the translation spell would eventually wear off. What do you plan for me to do do when that happens?” I asked, taking another spare glance at Celestia. She chuckled, and a glowing ring appeared in front of my face. After a moment, I noticed the glow was merely just Celestia encasing it in her magic. That was a shame. Glowy rings were cool.

“I’ve enchanted this ring so that when you wear it, the translation spell is in effect in a large area around you. I’m sure it will not be a problem.”

“Will it work for things like radios, or videos?”

“I never tested it because we’ve never found the need to use it. I suppose you’ll have to find out, and improvise if the results are negative. It had worked on that thing you called TACT, though.”

“Gotcha," I said, and plucked the ring from the air. The glow stopped, and I took a moment to observe it. I rolled the sleek metal between my fingers, eyes narrowing as I leveled it with my face. It appeared to be made of platinum, or silver. There were no indentations or grooves on its surface, and it hugged close to my ring finger when I put it on; a perfect fit. When I lowered my hand and looked up, Celestia was smiling at me. "Thanks for it. You just made my job thirty times easier. Language barriers are a tough hurdle to jump. Pun intended."

"Indeed they are. Tell me, what did our language sound like before the translation spell went into effect? I know we heard yours, and you heard me speak to Luna. I am curious."

"A bunch of whinnies and nickers sounds, high pitched and slightly annoying, nothing I didn’t expect. What'd we sound like? All I said was 'hello'."

"Like some sort of horrible monster attempting to imitate a pleasant tone of voice," Celestia chuckled out. I looked over to the ship, and grinned as well. Art was tapping at a hologram emanating from his wrist, standing in front of the crates. The three had all removed their helmets and stood next to him, probably pestering him with questions. The ship was angled so we couldn't see the inside just yet, but Roland and Dylan appeared to be leading the "ambassadors" up the ramp. For a brief second, I worried we wouldn't be able to fit them in the seat harnesses, but I knew that Art must've thought of something. Spike wouldn't be too much of a problem.

I chuckled, and raised an eyebrow at her. "Monster? You get them often?" I asked. From what I'd seen, Equestria was a very peaceful place. Maybe good for a vacation home.

But no. In that instant, I realized something. Equestria was worth protecting, because it was peaceful. Many of the planets we "protected" had lots of infighting and wars of their own, or were just outright dangerous to live on. Equestria was different, a shining beacon of light in the darkness, perhaps. That fact alone made the planet priceless. It made the people priceless. Definitely worth protecting.

"Of course. Not everything here in Equestria is peaceful, as you’ve so far seen."

Nevermind.

"But most incidents can be solved fairly quickly, and without needless violence."

Nevermind - again. Very good, Celestia. I was beginning to respect her a bit more, now. I mean, I already respected her before, but each time she played her cards right, the levels rose just a little bit. I could tell she was doing the natural thing, making her leadership seem good by telling the truth. The galaxy needed more leaders like that.

"Hey! Commander Boyo!" I called out. We had gotten close enough to the ship that I trusted my voice to carry to Art without using the headset. He raised a hand for a moment, tapped the holo-panel a few more times, and it warped back into his wrist in a flurry of light. He turned to face us, and grinned. "I need a report!" I called again, and he moved to meet us halfway. When he did so, he walked on my left side, with Celestia to my right, and I looked up to face her. "Celestia, you can go give your ambassadors a speech or something? I need to speak with Art. That alright with you?"

"Thank you for the suggestion, Captain. I will do so." She smiled that irresistible motherly smile again, and quickened her pace to pass us while Art and I slowed ours in tandem. It was odd. Normally, leaders didn't like taking "suggestions" that were really just orders, and I knew she knew it was an order. Maybe she was just looking for an excuse to talk with them, or to get away from me. With Celestia taking care of the motivational speech, I turned to face Art.

"You have everything prepared? Spare dorms in the palace? Food choices? When did Luna say they'd make a public announcement?" I asked.

"Yes, yes, and yes. All three are taken care of. We’ve got enough stuff to last for a month on a deserted arctic planet with little to no atmosphere. We'll be fine. And, uh, for the announcement, Luna said they'd make it official within the day, ‘cause they’re not too keen on hiding stuff from their subjects for long. That... well, it really isn’t much time to get any long-term preparations ready, but I sort of understand their reasons. TACT’s already mapping out an area for an orbital base. We haven't discussed any ground operations, though."

"Make sure to do that today or tomorrow. Sometime soon, at least. I don't want any major mining operations unless we’re upgrading Equestria’s, and even after that I want you to import it, and pay. They’ll probably give some hefty discounts, though. We need to be fair and nice, got it?”

"Yessir. Will do. Also, last night, Luna and I began discussing starships. Err, well, she's really interested in them, and I mean practically obsessed, even. She wants to help design Equestria's first."

"Let her. First spaceships are always more for political purposes than anything else, and so as long as she doesn't move to make it some sort of super-weapon I'm fine. Make sure to send me progress reports once the supply ships start coming through. Maybe you’ll figure out how to bypass the anomaly’s communications-breaking barrier.”

"Yessir."

"One more thing, Commander," I said in a grave tone. He looked questionably at me, and I continued. "I want you to confront Luna and Celestia about the anomaly that surrounds their system, and then gently put it that they’re on Terra, and why that’s significant. I have a feeling they know about the anomaly though, and something about that just bugs me. I don’t care when you do it or how, but as long as it’s done. We can’t put it off for long."

"Will do, Captain. Also, I... ah..." I peered curiously at him as he trailed off, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck, "I had a personal question."

"Shoot," I said, and slightly sped up the pace. As much as I loved heart-to-hearts, they were terrible luck, at least from what I’d experienced with them. "I've always got time for my crew, and we've both been in the Wing for a while now. We're friends."

"Alright.” He paused, taking a few seconds to stare off into the sky. "I don't know. Something feels... weird. I feel like we don't belong here, almost. I mean, yea, it’s supposed to be our home, but besides the ponies, haven't you noticed it?"

"Noticed what?" I asked, eyes narrowing.

“Well, I mean, the colors," he said, giving a wide gesture that encompassed most of the gardens in front of us. "Look at them. They're so bright, so vivid. Then look at everywhere else we've been, it's all washed out and grey. Even the forests have been gloomy."

I grinned, and let loose a bout of laughter that might’ve been a tad uncalled for. It was dry, emotionless laughter, more of a bark. When I stopped, he stared at me with pleading eyes. "What?" he asked, questions and fears building up behind his eyes. "What is it?"

"Well, you said 'everywhere else'! Art. If you haven't noticed, most of 'everywhere else' we've been has been a warzone, training field, or disaster area. The time we get off is spent with our families if we've got them, so otherwise we don't really have time for a vacation. Of course it seems bright and cheery. It's normal! Me and you, we’ve been on active duty for, what, years now? Constantly patrolling the borders, aiding our allies, skirmish missions. And then you’ve got me." I pressed a finger to my chest, which had swelled up merely by instinct. “I’ve been doing the exact same stuff as you, then I’m busy drawing up diagrams for half of our ships and guns, managing the Liberty Fleet, and juggling the general duties of a respected high rank. How do you think I feel? I’d love to be in your position, pal. You’ve got it easy.”

"Yea, I guess you have a point... but there's another thing. The ponies themselves. Haven't you noticed anything odd about the way they seem to be? I mean, no wars, really? You can't have such drastic differences with other sentient species on the planet without a large conflict. It's impossible."

"Art. Once again, you're being incredibly close minded. Need I remind you that we've traveled through pocket dimensions, saved the galaxy like... three freak’n times, taken down an enemy thousands of times greater than us, and then other feats that would normally be impossible? They're honestly just another fact of life by now. Why's this eating at you?"

"Because like I said. Something just feels... off. I don't know what, but I don't like it. I-"

"Wait!" I interrupted him with a friendly slap on the back as we arrived at our destination. He jerked to attention, eyes widening in surprise at the sudden gesture. I could hear the muffled voice of Celestia coming from the opening of the ship, and I quickly spun Art to face me with my free hand. I stared at him with all the intensity of a concerned brother, and took one last look around to make sure there were no eavesdroppers. I lowered my voice to a hushed whisper.

"I'll be honest, blunt, and tactless, Smarts,” I hissed, making sure to add Art’s signiture nickname for unneeded emphasis. “I'm getting a bad-juju vibe from all of this too. But then again, I got the same vibes when we allied with the WIC, and that turned out fine in the end. I got the same feeling a lot back when I was left to oversee the Operations Department back in the day, and it was smooth sailing with them until the galactic wars." I paused for a moment, taking a deep, almost shaky breath. "Well, as you can see, just because you have a fear doesn't mean it'll come to pass. Sometimes you just need to accept things for what they are, no matter how much your mind may try to fight it. Right? No goodbyes on the field. I'll see you in a few months." I looked back to the ship, and walked towards it without a moment’s hesitation.

"Right...." I heard Art whisper, followed by the crunch of his boots on the ground that faded away like all things do. I reached the end of the dropship, and made my way around the lowered ramp. There were a few meters of extra space in the back of the craft, space that the designers hadn't placed seats in. Well, I was the designer, so, yea. Filling it were two platforms on either side of the exit doorway, where one could easily stack Kaiden-manufactured crates for easy storage. It was a good thing, because this dropship was meant for long trips, and not just planet-to-ship runs. Consequently it was bit bigger than the dropships most of us were no doubt used to flying in, but I liked the extra leg room. By “most of us” I meant the Wing members, of course.

Not sure why, but I was also letting someone else pilot it. It's a common responsibility, they say, for the captain to pilot his own ship, because only he knows how to handle it. I just, sometimes, don't feel comfortable with letting someone else fly me around in a big hunk of metal. I was from a time when we higher-ups liked to fly our own dropships, fighters, and the like. I guess some things fall out of favor.

I peered around the corner to see that my previous fears had been unfounded, and that all six of the ponies were strapped in tight, with Dylan and Roland on opposite sides at the far end. I don't know how Art actually managed to modify the seats to fit the ponies, especially without a pony with him to measure - or had he really taken one with him, earlier? There were two more seats, one for me and one for Spike. The little dragon was staring curiously at his buckle, trying to strap himself in like the big boy he no doubt wanted to look like. Twilight and her friends weren't paying any attention to him, to his chagrin, they were too busy listening intently to Celestia as she finished her good-luck speech.

"... and though I have my utmost faith in your abilities, Twilight, do your best to listen to Captain Amber should a dangerous situation arise. Remember to observe everything around you, and be safe. If you have any concerns or questions about unfamiliar surroundings or customs, you may simply ask the Captain. I'm sure he will be more than happy to clear things up."

"Eeyup," I interrupted, carelessly tipping to the side to lean on the wall. All heads swiveled to face me, and the two cadets in the back saluted from their seats. I nodded at Celestia. "Sorry for interrupting you, but we're really on borrowed time. I'd hate to get halfway out of the system before running out of energy or fuel. That'd be no fun."

The sun princess smiled, and nodded softly. "I understand, Captain Amber. I will allow you to take your leave now. May your travels be safe.” She turned to give Twilight a sidelong glance as she gracefully walked past me. "I will eagerly be waiting for your reports, my faithful student."

I felt her presence exit the craft, and Roland was saying something to me in a soundless voice, and even that faded into the background. Some part of me wanted to pay attention, but the rest was preoccupied with staring blankly at that word Princess Celestia had used. It poked the word with its fork, tilting its head ever so slightly at the exotic dish. It had been on the plate for quite a while, but everything else had already been consumed, leaving my mind to finally notice the last portion.

Safe.

(7) Safe Fates

-Canterlot, Equestria

-Eleven hours after first contact

-Royal Hedge Maze

-

Safe.

The galaxy was a dangerous place at times; the rest of the time it was outright deadly. Safety was an illusion, and what the word really meant was to be prepared to handle everything, and for all your preparations to go wrong.

Imagine this: Everyone wants you either fighting for them, or dead. That’s our galaxy in a nutshell. Perhaps a bit of an exaggeration, but I’m a soldier and I’ve been fighting all my life. I know things. When I wasn’t on the front lines, making tactical decisions and fighting alongside my soldiers, I was at home. When I was at home, I designed weapons for our soldiers, and when I wasn’t doing that I would be designing ships for those soldiers to fly in. On the off chance I wasn’t doing that, I was meeting with the other higher ranks to discuss how to recruit soldiers, how we’d go about killing someone else, or how we could keep ourselves from getting killed in every way possible. Now imagine that every single group in the galaxy was doing just that, all in an attempt to kill you.

In short, being safe depended on how lucky you were.

I didn't doubt my luck, or even my abilities to keep them safe, but I did doubt my ability to keep them in a little bubble of ignorance. It was an impossible battle and I knew that no matter how hard I would try, they would eventually find out. It was still worth a shot. Celestia had just said that she’d be waiting for Twilight’s reports. Reports on how I was treating them, and more likely than not, her opinion on the galaxy. I’d treat them just fine, but it was only a matter of time before they found out everything and the entire operation blew up in my face.

I continued standing there with a blank look in my face, my mind whizzing faster than your average teleport.

It would require special precision, and I'd normally talk to the rest of the high ranks about such a matter, but that was out of the list of options for the moment. I could contact one of my most trusted friends as soon as we left the anomaly and repaired our communications. Admiral Fenway or Castlor, that is. They’d be able to send a safer ship to escort us during the tour. Safer meaning a battleship, hopefully. If he did send a battleship, it would only be for an escort. I wasn't about to let the ponies near any series ship firepower anytime soon.

Or maybe that was a bad idea. A battleship escorting us would draw attention. That’d be bad.

Then there was all the political garbage I had to get done. Art had written up most of the forms I’d need to officialize the absorption of Terra. After that, we could start up legal trade with them, and we could brag to the rest of the galactic community that we’d found Terra.

Well, maybe not that last part. That would be even worse than bad.

"-ir! Yo! You okay?"

"Captain, is something the matter?"

"Oh my, is he alright?"

A cacophony of voices pulled me from my deep thinking, and I blinked hard. How long I had just been standing there, staring blankly at the wall, I didn't want to know. What I did know was that fading off in thought like that wasn't something I normally did, or at least I never did it when something important like this was happening. That might be bad. I looked down at Twilight, finding that I was standing next to her. "M'fine,” I muttered, shaking my head into my palm.

The seat next to her was empty. It was the only chair nearest to the wall, the control screen, and the door to the cockpit. The chair on her other side contained a disgruntled dragon squirming in front of it, sizing it up. The poor chair. Next to Spike's designated seat was Applejack, resting comfortably under her rustic Stetson. Very stylish. Directly opposite of me was Rainbow Dash, beside her was Pinkie Pie, then Rarity, and lastly Fluttershy was opposite of Applejack, doing her best to look small in her chair. I grinned stupidly. I spun on one heel with the grace of a dancer, and grinned a grin that I’d seen a flight attendant once use. Plastic.

"Twilight and company, welcome aboard the Fate Dropship! A few things before we take off." I fully spun around and plopped into my chair, my uniform folding up around my stomach. In a few quick movements, I had buckled myself in. I looked to my right, down to an all-too-eager-to-please Twilight, her ears perked up in interest. I could feel the other ponies staring at me.

"One," I barked, slipping into the brash, authoritative tone I used when I had the chance to talk to cadets at the Academies. "Help Spike buckle in, and I want you all to stay buckled in during this entire trip unless I say otherwise. I probably will, but only if you promise not to break a window or something. Zero-G can be fun, but it’s a lot less fun when you’re in a vacuum without a suit. And there's a reason we have the fancy smhancy gravity-simulators on our bigger ships. Lucky for you girls, this thing is considered big enough to have one of those devices. Maybe I'll turn it off for you, we'll see." I finished, and blinked to myself. That wasn’t really fair, considering most if not all ships had gravity simulators, with the only exception being fighters. The Fate was just larger than normal dropships or shuttles.

While I was talking, Twilight levitated the still annoyed Spike into place, ignoring his grunted protests. With him forced down, she pulled the buckles tight with her magic. That was that. "Good. Now, secondly..." I trailed off, tapping at the control screen next to me. A loading bar appeared, and my tiny headset connected with the ship's intercom and communications system; with the touch of the button I could contact our pilot or use the Fate’s communications. I could already technically do that by manually adjusting the channels my headset connected to, but this was a stronger wireless link. None of that, "yadda yadda, over," garbage we had to use. "I don't want any if you girls - ever - to mess with our shipboard AI. That’s Artificial Intelligence. He’s a robot, but a really smart one. You can ask him questions and, uh, stuff, but I don't want to risk you breaking him, or something. Got it, Pinkie Pie?"

"Okie dokie artichokie!" the pony greatly resembling cotton candy after being stuffed into a blender said, giving a comedic salute from her chair. A bit of hopeless sounding breath escaped my lips, and my head sunk. I stared at the ground again, my mind running laps.

"Third! If you have any questions about anything, feel free to ask me, and if I’m not around, the crew. I haven't been given the honor of explaining the inner workings of the galaxy in a long time, so I might be a bit rusty, and I know the rest of the crew is a tad green. I mean, there are some things, like why our ship goes so fast, I won't be able to explain... unless one of you has several degrees in engineering and theoretical physics, which I doubt you do. Otherwise, I'll be happy to explain anything, as long as you don't all ask different questions at the same time. I don't do well in crowded situations, so for both our sakes, try to keep it organized."

Twilight, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash all opened their mouths to speak, while the others just looked on intently. With a ruthlessness that would’ve made several of the Galaxy’s worst warlords jealous, I stomped on whatever words they were about to say. "And lastly, I don’t need you running amuck in my ship while we’re not planetside. I want you to buddy up with one of the crewmembers. There should be enough for everyone to have one. Then maybe you could think of this sort of like one big field trip. School for space, even. So, consider this your first lesson in space: Being in space. You girls excited?"

There was a brief moment where I swear I couldn't hear anything other than girlish screams and shouts of joy, which I mostly blame Pinkie Pie for, and I blinked hard. My eyes flitting about the cabin like precision missiles, and I lifted my hand to my headset. "Cadet- Ah, uh. Lilian?"

"Yessir? We're prepped and ready to take off. Art and the rest of the boys just hauled off the cargo and they're out of harm's way. And Art! I know you're listening, so you wanna confirmation on that?" Lilian said, followed by a brief assault of static as a new voice chimed in.

"Yup. Celestia was kind enough to lend us some of that levitation magic. Makes heavy lifting so much easier! You guys are free to take off whenever you want."

“Hel- er. Heck, Art, do you eavesdrop on everything we say?”

“As much as I can, sir.”

"Hey!" an indignant voice spurted out in my general vicinity, and I scoured the cabin for its origin, ignoring the laughter in my headset. It was the flamboyant pegasus, who was dramatically holding both hooves out in the air. Or at least as dramatically as she could, which considering she was a puffy horse thing, didn’t amount to much. "As much as I absolutely love being tied down like this, can we get moving? I came here to explore space!"

"Rainbow!" Rarity, Twilight, and Applejack hissed in unison. They briefly glanced awkwardly at each other, before Rarity gave a polite cough.

"Do forgive Rainbow Dash. She isn't accustomed to restraining her... assertiveness, in situations such as these. She's not used to having her wings restrai-"

"Hey! How would you feel if you weren't allowed to use magic, huh?" Rainbow said, leaning forward so she could turn her head to stare at Rarity, who sniffed, harrumphed, and looked in the opposite direction. I blinked stupidly, and looked over at Dash.

“Err, you fly a lot?”

“Uh, duh! I didn’t get to be Equestria’s fastest flier by not flying!”

"Rainbow, we talked about this earlier, and you said you'd be fine with it. Jackson," Twilight said, looking at me with eyes that should be illegal for stupid amounts of cute overdose. "Please tell me there's enough space in your ship for Rainbow to at least hover around, and that we won't be stuck in the ship for the entire trip."

I chuckled, and looked over at Rainbow Dash. "Don't worry. There's enough room for you to fly in the ship. The hangar’s pretty big. There'll be a whole lot more room once we get to Omega, and then I’ll be taking you straight to our capital planet. Fresh air, the lot. You girls will love it."

"Hey!"

"And guy. Whatever, Spike."

"Uh, Captain?" Twilight asked, tapping me on the shoulder. She gave me those stupidly adorable eyes again. If I had cancer or something, it had probably been cured. "What's Omega?"

"Ahh..." I tapped my knee, staring up at the ceiling for a moment. "Omega is... well, I suppose you don't know what a space station is, though your concept of 'space ship' seems to be obvious...." I bit my lower lip for a few seconds. I blinked, and looked down at Twilight. "It's like a giant ship that never moves, and acts sort of like an artificial island would, I guess. Does that make sense to you?"

"But why do we need 'ta go to this Omega place anyhow? I mean, I know this is ah tour an everything, just curious," the stetson-wearing earth pony at the end of my row piped up. I nodded slightly. On a completely unrelated note, the term “Earth” pony was highly suspicious. I mentally noted that I needed to ask about it later.

"We'll need to refuel, and then we also need to, ah, recharge our power systems. They got fried went we- ah, nevermind. After that, I’ll have to send out an official message using Omega’s long range com-unit if we aren't able to repair our communication systems. That done, it'll be your first real taste of life in space."

"Taste! Space! It rhymes! Do you think space tastes like cake?" A new voice battered at my senses, and I visibly winced. I looked at Pinkie Pie, narrowing my eyes as I tried to bring up a mental wall. I’d dealth with this before; I’d dealt with it many times. A large minority of people in the galaxy were sort of like Pinkie. We’d had a lot in the Wing, once. They all died.

"You can't taste space, and trying would prove dangerous. I don't recommend it," I said, doing my best not to make eye contact with that monstrosity. I sighed, and focused back on Twilight. "Any more questions before we take off?"

"Oooh, there are so many," Twilight whispered, tapping a hoof on her armrest. She looked up at me, eyes filled with that doomed sense of longing I’d seen a lot of scientists get. "But I think it's best that I ask you them on your ship, right? I don't want to waste your time-"

"Very well!" I interrupted, comically bending my neck to tap at the headset, grinning stupidly at the other half of the girls. Pinkie Pie giggled. "Cadet Lilian! All systems accounted for and ready for liftoff, right?"

"Bingo, Cappy. On your mark," Lilian replied, and I could faintly hear the rumbling of the engines begin to resonate through the ship. I winked at Rainbow Dash, who provided and awkward, anxious grin in return. Chuckling, I rested my head against the back of the hair, looking at the dim lights on the cabin ceiling.

"Alright, girls. Give it a moment, the engines can be pretty loud during our ascents and descents. We'll have to get you some custom gear when we hit the Aedinia system, or maybe the engineers on Omega will be able to modify some headsets free of charge. Heck, at that rate, by the time we get to the capital, you’ll all have your own suits or-”

The engines roared, and I politely shut my mouth. The cabin shuddered like an angry massage chair, and I was forced down into my seat by the pressure. The window panels were still closed, so we couldn't see outside. My mind didn’t wander too far off, and it was drawn to a shuddering mass curling into herself a few seats away. I glanced around for a moment, checking to see if anyone had noticed. They were all too engrossed in themselves. It took a second for my mind to find her name. "Fluttershy!" I called over the din. "What's wrong?"

"I-It's nothing!" she squeaked. I rolled my eyes, and gave her a hard stare. "I mean... Um. It's safe, right?"

I strained my ears, trying to comprehend her question over the noise. It snapped into place, and I laughed. Seeing her flinch back at the show of mirth, I forced myself into a dry chuckle before stopping, grinning at her. "We’re about as safe as possible. These cadets aren’t exactly green, and I know the one flying was trained to fly this thing - weren't you, Cadet?" I grinned for a moment, waiting for a reply. There was none, and my smile fell of my face like a climber without a rope. "Whatever. Anyway, you'll be fine. Oi, Cadet Lilian! I want to know when we'll be leaving the atmosphere."

"Got it," came the half-hearted reply. I nodded to myself, and settled into my seat.

"WhhoOaAaAaOoOoAoO! MmMyY vOicE soUndS fUNnY!" Pinkie yelled, her voice warped by the engines shaking the dropship like a toy. The mare elicited a couple warbled laughs from her companions. I looked to the side. Roland and Dylan were still in their armor, and Roland had taken the rare opportunity to, as the more lazy Wing members have said, put his visor down. I don't know how he could sleep through this, but very well. He’d had a long night. Dylan seemed as still as ever. I could only imagine what he was doing behind that helmet.

Probably watching me. Creepy.

For a few minutes, my mind faded as I listened to the hum of the ship. A few times, one of the girls would say something to the other, but I wasn't paying attention. It didn’t matter.

"Sir," Lilian buzzed in, and I jerked to attention, “we're nearing the end of the atmosphere. Any directions?"

I looked at the girls chattering mindlessly around me. They seemed to be happy, so a surprise was in order. "Yea, Lilian. Open the windows when I give the go-ahead. Are the grav-sims online yet?"

"Nope. You need them off?"

"Yea. I figure they could use a bit of a treat. Zero-G seems like a fun way to introduce space, doesn't it?"

"Yessir. I'll keep them off. You boys and girls have fun back there."

I nodded to myself, and let go of the headset. None of the girls had heard me, and the engine noise had died down enough to where we could all talk normally. I cleared my throat and raised one hand, waiting patiently as the voices quieted down and all eyes turned towards me. I coughed again, and brushed the hair out of my eyes, sliding it under the headset so my forehead was visible. "Now, girls! Who's ready for a surprise? Two surprises, really."

"Oh! There's only one thing better than a surprise, and that's multiple surprises! Is it a present? A cake? Do we get secret space-code-names?" Pinkie rattled off. I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt, and in the back of my consciousness, I could feel a few of them staring at the scars crossing over my forehead like small, many legged bugs.

"No, but you'll like it. You see, in space, there isn't any gravity. We normally have some pretty advanced gravity-simulators to keep us from floating around in our ships like this one, but I've decided to turn it off for you. In a few moments, you should start to feel pretty lightweight, your hair will probably be floating around, the lot. Uh, sort of like swimming, I guess. The other-"

"I love swimming!"

I coughed politely, and one hand reached up to secretly activate the headset. "The other thing is a sight we spacefarers see fairly often, and something you'll be seeing quite a lot of on this tour. Girls, I'd like to welcome you to..." I gestured to the window behind me in a wide, sweeping motion, and all eyes turned towards it. Twilight, Spike, and the others in my row had to twist their bodies in their seat, but everyone managed to get a good view as the window panels slowly slid back.

The slid back to reveal the luminescent edge, literally, of their world. It was something I had seen countless times. Whether I was merely going to another planet to oversee the building of an outpost or to check up on one of the many Acadamies, or making a brutal flash fire drop through the atmosphere to provide ship support to ground troops. It was sort of like opening a door, except not. I didn't see anything special. It was the soft glow of the atmosphere outlining the gradual curve of a spherical planet. It didn’t matter.

The sun was directly above the Fate and slowly moving behind us as we moved towards the other side of the planet, where the moon and the Homebound would be waiting. There was a collective gasp as the ponies (and dragon) took in the sight, and I instantly shut my ears off to the various questions that instantly began peppering me. Now was not the time to suffer any sort of overload.

Chattering, high pitched voices assaulted my ear drums, and before I knew what was happening I had shrunk into the seat. I wasn’t good with sound, which was why I kept a pair of sound-canceling earbuds with me during wartime. The noise just got higher and worse, turning from chatter into a garble and then into a squealing static. My vision started swimming, and I brought one hand to my head. I had to control my breathing before I passed out. In. Out. Slowly. In. Out. “STOP!” someone yelled, using my voice and my mouth. I wrapped my face in my palms, scrunching my face up in them to hide the red of my cheeks. Most Wing members knew I was susceptible to sound like that. There were some scars that even the greatest surgeries and therapists in the galaxy couldn’t fix.

In. Out. Slowly.

"And in a few moments..." I began, trailing off as long strands of mane on each of the ponies slowly began to lift upwards, no longer controlled by gravity. I lifted my hand away, and felt my own short hair floating as well. The horrible familiar feeling of weightlessness filled me, and I was vastly thankful for my seatbelt. There were a few more gasps of delight, and I forced myself to smile a smile that would’ve made Pinkie proud. Nothing like first-contact missions. "You're no longer kept down by gravity, and for now, feel free to relieve yourself of your buckles and enjoy it while it lasts. We have a ways to go before we get to the Homebound, and we don't turn off the gravity simulators in there. It’s, uh, impractical. I'll be running some calculations and filling some forms out in the meanwhile. Speaking of which," I looked down at the small screen attached to my arm, and tapped at it a few times. "Art just sent me an update. Roland!" I shouted the last word, not looking up from the screen. There was a startled gasp to my left, and I smirked grimly before settling back into my neutral smile once again.

"Uh-Yessir! What do you, um, need,” he said, leaning forward so I could see the very tip of his helmet as he slid his visor up, revealing his tired eyes.

"Make sure the ponies are safe during the trip. Keep watch is all I'm saying. I'm busy."

"Uh. Right. Yessir. Will do... hey, why's the grav-sim offline?"

(8) Welcome Aboard

-Aboard the Fate Dropship 1K-196

-Twelve hours after first contact

-Fate Cabin

-

"Sir. We're here. Landing in one.... Sir?" A hand brushed up against my shoulder, and I jerked up. It was Roland, with his visor rolled up and a stupid grin on his face. I blinked, then looked back down to my arm. I had been deeply absorbed in modifying some concept sketches for a new ship, and had been comatose to reality for who-knows-how-long. It was the curse of being a genius, I suppose. Or perhaps genius was too strong a word. I had never been explicitly brilliant at designing tech, but my team of ragtag engineers knew how to make the individual parts just fine. That meant it was my job to get creative with them. Balance out ship firepower to the amount of power they’ll have at their disposal, etcetera. It was complicated and sciency. It had taken me four years just to learn the basics. Designing was time consuming, and required me to not be actively getting shot at.

So I didn't often find time, or energy, to design new ships, guns, and the like, and I enjoyed the time when I could. It signified peace - and also that the enemy was just outside of the peace, and my only hope to survive was to keep making better ways to blow them up. I'd send the plans off to a KaidenTech engineer lab when we reached Omega. The boys over at the KaidenTech facilities on Han Wavel would get it, make it, and by the time we would reach them, it would be ready to fly. I’d designed this one to be a luxury ship, specifically made for me, the ponies, and the crew. It would be perfect.

If you were wondering, I meant Han Wavel the planet, not the system. I’m pretty sure that when the first galactic council was naming the place, some poor bloke made the error. It stuck, and it confused the hell out of all our star-charts. Specifically, the star-charts in the navigation room I had built into the Homebound. It was commonly referred to as a "holo-room" by most denizens of the galaxy, but it was labeled for what it was used for, and it was used for cool stuff like star-charts. For that, I was proud. Sort of. The navigation room and its hologram capabilities were normally a tool, not some sort of odd entertainment. Watching the planets and systems dance around you in the way that only sophisticated holograms could might be somewhat hypnotizing, but nevertheless, a tool. The ponies, as they seemed to be a tad more, for lack of a better word, immature than most ambassadors tended to be, would no doubt find the holograms to be an infinite source of entertainment on our journey. If they liked that measly thing, there's no telling how they'd react to the massive holo-halls on Gantoris, or the VR-Simulators I would be reserving at one of the Academies.

I sent the small screen back into the oblivion of the datapad, and willed my stiff neck to look up Something was wrong; Roland was out of his chair, and floating sideways. All of the crew was floating in some form or another. Except Dylan. Dylan was sitting down, and this perturbed me for some odd reason that I couldn’t and didn’t want to guess. I coughed politely. "Alright, everyone, pony, human, and dragon alike. Please make your way back to your seats and buckle back up. After that, you'll get to tour your very first starship."

There was a bout of excited chattering, and a few questions that I ignored. The buzzing and clicking filled my mind, and I did my best to tune them out. They wouldn’t like it, but in the end, I didn’t care.

What was worse: I didn’t know why I didn’t care.

What was it, I wondered? Their naivety to the ways of the galaxy and life in general? The wonder of all these new and exciting terms and technologies? Pondering such thoughts would have to wait for now. All that mattered was that I dodged every enemy from Omega to Aedinia, and we'd be off the hook and in secure Wing space from then on. After that, it wouldn't be a problem keeping them from the great dangers of the galaxy. The Empirium, LRA pirates, and heavens forbid we come in contact with the BAI on our trip. I had gone compeltely overkill in my attempts to wipe out the BAI, and each time I knew it wasn’t enough. Long after I was dead, they’d still be a plague on the galaxy. All that mattered to me, though, was keeping them out of Wing space. They were the rest of the galaxy’s problem, now.

Safety was all that mattered. I couldn't care less if they were fascinated by a bug. I mean, I would care if said bug was something that could tear one of their faces off,

I smiled as Roland hurried to settle the ponies down, and I bothered to peek out the window. The planet below was dark, with a few lights popping up where life thrived. I couldn't see the moon through the window, because by now it was somewhere behind us. The low red glare from the Homebound's engines could be seen in front of us, and I brought a hand up to the small headset without a second thought.

"Oi. Pilot."

"Hmmmm?" she hummed in manner that made me wonder if she was even paying attention. We were getting closer to the Homebound by the minute; there was no doubt in my mind she was focusing mostly on getting command codes out to Evo, who would be moving furiously in the bridge to accept each one.

“Pass us by the ship, cadet. I'd like the girls to get a good look at the outside of the place they'll be traveling in for the next long while. I know I’d want to in their position."

"Aye aye, cappy,” Lilian mutted, probably turning the mic off to grumble a few words I wouldn’t want to repeat. I felt the engines deep within the dropship shudder, and we veered off-course. I tapped on the window behind me, drawing the attention of the ponies.

I’d said it before: I designed most of the Homebound. My engineers and scientists at KaidenTech made all the small working bits, and I piled them on top of one another and claimed all the credit. It was only fair, of course, if everyone knew I had a team behind me, they’d have targets on the back of their skulls. It wasn’t like I didn’t pay them or anything. I honestly shouldn’t have to defend myself for this sort of thing. For God’ sake, I was like the CEO of a company, except that the company only sells to one place, and sells everything for free.

The best thing about it was that nobody had ever asked where I kept getting the money to pay everyone.

The Homebound was one of the most over-balanced ships the Wing had to offer. It was completely unique. Medium armor, heavy shields, fast speeds, and light to medium firepower. With the Wing being one of the most technologically advanced factions in the galactic community, that still made the Homebound the equivalent of an LRA battleship. That was the Homebound. That was my darling. It couldn't take on a fleet all by itself, but it was my newest and maybe my favorite ship.

Not like it mattered. I commanded an entire fleet, so why should I care about one tiny ship? The answer is super secret, naturally. I'm serious. We're delving into territory very close to my heart, here.

The outward appearance of the Homebound was a bit different from most ships that followed KaidenTech design patterns. For one, the hangar bay was astonishingly big. It had to be, to fit a ground vehicle and the Fate in it, as well as all our other cargo. It showed, too, almost like the ship had eaten a few too many sweet. The other part, the main hull of the ship, was a bit slimmer, and was slanted so that it would eventually come to a point if it wasn't cut off by the bridge at the front. On each side the gargantuan boxlike engines sat, connected to the outside of the hangar on either side, and connecting back with the main body in the middle of the hull. As we flew past, I could see the ventilation grids digging into the side of them like old war wounds, and the low red glow of the stabilizers on the bottom of the ship just came into view. I’d made sure to put extra stabilizers in the design, just so we could do some of the more advanced fancy-flying that one could normally only do in a smaller vessel.

Connected to both engines were sixteen small, laser based broadside cannons, with eight on each side. They enough to take out a smaller pirate vessel in one pass. It seemed a bit foolish to stick them on the vulnerable engines, but the engineers insisted it was the only way to include them in the ship, and I wanted my broadside cannons, so I’d get them. But when it comes to technical stuff like that, I don't argue. Besides, they said, the ship has some pretty advanced shielding, so it shouldn't be a problem unless your shields die. Then you die too.

As we flew further along, and the bulk of the engines slid past, the nameplate for the Homebound came into view, followed by a forward projectile-based canon designed to take out fighters and small frigates. Automatically reloaded itself. Nice stuff.

The nameplate read, in large bold, black letters that stood out against the light grey of the ship, "ESS: Homebound."

There was a collective gasp that I ignored, and the dropship swerved around the front of the ship, no doubt surprising Evo as we passed by the bridge. The window to the bridge, in comparison with the size of the ship, a very small window, but still a window. You see, that was important, because when it comes down to it, I'm not a big fan of windows. Unless they're heavily secured and reinforced, or energy-based like the "window" to the hangar was, I wanted them off my ship designs. Sadly enough, the Homebound had three. Three. Absolutely terrible. The builders assured me that they'd be reinforced, especially the bridge one, but still. I've been sucked out of windows before. It's not a fun experience. Zero thumbs up.

We made the second pass, and as we spun to face the entrance to the hangar, I pressed at the headset, staring on as the ponies floated about. "Hey. Make sure to turn the gravity on, kapeesh?"

"Mhm."

I sighed, and settled back into my seat. I did my best to ignore the startled yelps as several bodies hit the floor, and looked idly down at my dat-pad. As I waited for the long stream of messages load, I glanced up to see Dylan helping the ponies strap back into their seats, the soldier's gloved hands moving with surprising gentleness. The scene pleased me. Not in the sense of "Aww adorable ponies!" but rather the fact that it proved Dylan wasn't a robot. I'd have to shoot him out of the airlock if he was.

It was my favorite thing to do to enemies back in the day. Nothing like seeing bodies flail about in the vacuum.

There was a blip of light, and I looked back down at my arm. Messages, messages, and lots of them. I was never one to delete important messages, though sometimes I did archive them. Messages on the dat-pad, you see, are not easily forgeable, and are valid evidence in any trial of court. Don't ask me why. I'm not a politician.

I could feel the thrum of the engines die down, and looked out the window. We were now fully facing the back of the hangar. The large metal covering slowly slid back into itself, revealing the cool blue of pure energy.

Energy "walls", as they were called, were pretty revolutionary as far as space-warfare went. No more big, bulky hangars that needed to be pressurized and unpressurized constantly. I actually served on a ship that had one of those. ESS Legacy. Lovely vessel. Too bad I only served on it for a short amount of time. The entire story around that is something of a long one, so I'll save it for later.

Meaning never.

I could only see one side of the hangar as we entered through the energy-wall, and until the actual wall passed through where I was sitting, it was a bluish blurry mess. There was a very noticeable tingling sensation, and an even more noticeable buzzing sound deep in my skull. The energy-wall, of course, had never been known to create any tumors, cancers, or have any real side-effects. So much so that some people had even brought it upon themselves to create very expensive, and very useful, "energy-suits". I had never had the pleasure of wearing one, but I've heard it to be quite a rush.

The walls of the hangar were, unlike most of the walls in the ship, a simple light grey, and reflected the light from the Fate as we entered. On my side of the hangar, I could see the large piles of cargo crates stuck fast to the ground, several of the smaller ones strewn about and left open. The crates themselves were a dark grey, with several lighter grey stripes around them. Yes, we all know that our ships are made up of a lot of grey. So many shades of it it’s impossible to list. It's better than the pitch-blacks that some idiot ship designers use. You can't even see where you're going in those. It made boarding them so much harder, so most of the time I just chose to blow it up whether or not they had surrendered. By the time they did, their fate was sealed.

Hanging above the cargo was the Bearclaw Transport, one of the older Kaiden Tech models. It was, for all intents and purposes, a very large truck or a very small tank. The wheels were about a head shorter than I was, and you had to use a ladder to climb in the back. There wasn't a way to directly enter the driver's seat, of course. You had to go through the bed. That's how all the Kaiden Tech ground vehicles worked. Right next to the cockpit, for the vehicle was so large that the driver's seat had been referred to that since it was made, was a small area strictly reserved for the gunner. Two autocannons with a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turning ability. It made a lot of noise, but I'll be darned if it wasn't effective against anything nasty that wanted to impale you with something even nastier. In the bed itself were some seats, the same ones that were in the Fate. It was a shame the Bearclaw had been discontinued after DragonTech had blown it out of the water and taken control of most ground based technology. Kaiden still owned the skies, at least.

There was a loud snapping noise, and the Fate jerked. I looked over to the passengers of the ship, each looking as alarmed as the next. I said, "It's alright, girls. It's just the crane. We'll be getting out of here soon."

"Fan-ta-stic!" Rainbow Dash exclaimed, looking just about ready to explode out from her seat. I frowned, and rolled my eyes a bit too hard when I thought none of the ponies were looking.

The engines of the Fate completely faded off, replaced by the whirring and ka-chunking of the crane as it lowered us to the hangar floor about as silently as a collapsing building. Somewhere in the ship, Evo was furiously working to make sure the dropship landed just right in its designated spot, outlined by thick reflective yellow paint. A final thud marked the end of our descent, and all sound seemed to choke a bit before dying, as if the entire ship was just waiting for someone to say something and break the silence. It was almost oppressive.

Almost.

I nonchalantly unstrapped myself from the chair, and spread my arms to stretch. Ignoring the blank stares I received, I smoothed out my old uniform. Inhaling the artificial air of the ship, I looked up to them, forcing my face to be blank and emotionless. "We're here."

What happened next was something I'd rather not describe in large detail. Perhaps it was a certain pink passenger chattering it up, or perhaps not. As soon as I shut my mouth, the door to the cockpit opened up and the outline of Lilian Andres stepped through, everyone simultaneously struggled to open their harnesses, promptly aided by a burst of magic from Twilight. The cadets and I stared blankly at the magic, sharing the same awed look while the ponies lined up at the closed exit ramp. As if on cue, the ramp hissed downwards, revealing a haggard looking cadet tapping feverishly at a dat-pad. She paid the very peculiar-looking passengers no mind as they assembled in front of her. Dylan and Roland leapt off the side of the ramp in quick succession, their armor hissing like an angry feline. It was their anti-fall devices implanted in the legs. Theoretically, if you had them in your armor, you could fall from any height and survive. Nobody wanted to test it, though; all we knew was that it worked. At the noise, the cadet looked up.

"Alright, sir. We-" Her mouth suddenly dropped open a notch, and she jerked back in such a way that I'm sure if she were holding an old fashioned clipboard, she would've dropped it. Her jaw and brain worked at different speeds, it seemed. "I. Uh. Aaahh..." she sputtered, both of her arms dangling stupidly at her sides.

"They're ponies, you know," I said swiftly, standing directly behind Spike. Everyone, pony, dragon, and otherwise, gave me an awkward glare. Except for Dylan, because he had never taken his visor off. How polite. "Apparently being called 'horse thingies' is somewhat offensive and inconsiderate, nevermind how accurate."

The cadet, an alien herself by the looks of things, nodded. I could tell by her face she didn’t understand any of it; that, or she already understood it and was waiting to dissect them.

She was teryn. A species of agile, grey-skinned furred race - thicker fur around the face, mind you. Commonly called “dogfaces” amongst the more rude parts of society. Normally make sure to bar any thick-furred creatures from my ships. All that hair clogs the drains. Terrible for the maintenance guys when it backs up; have you ever tried to unclog a drain in Zero-G?. Anyway, as far as the teryn went as a whole, I suppose she would be attractive. I’m not one for staring at women, my species or otherwise. Not to imply I’m not into women, I’ve just know that it’s hard to be in love and fight the galaxy at the same time. Civilians and some of the other Wing members still had time for it, though. I’d just learned it the hard way. On to something else.

I found myself pretty happy to have her with us; her kind was known for having quick reflexes and a sharp mind, not very different from the draxians. A bit more brittle than their red counterparts, but nonetheless just as useful in battle. It was a shame the Wing didn’t have more aliens. A quick glance at her white uniform showed that she was our medical officer. Good. I like medical officers. They're nice to have when you find yourself missing an arm.

"Uh.... Alright, sir," she said, backing up a few steps. "Quadrupeds, then. Fine with me. Anyway. The crew beds have all been sterilized, as has the rest of the ship. I have a long list of vaccines I'll be administering to them as soon as possible, and I sent a big package of them down with Commander Boyo for good measure. I'm sure the last thing we want is to wipe out that planet on complete accident."

"Uh, yes," I covered quickly. Even from behind the ponies, it was obvious they hadn't taken the concept of their entire race being killed off lightly. "Talk about something else. Like, uh, your name?"

"Aran V!los, sir. Chief medical officer. I’m from the Academy on Feros-Tyr, and I specialize-"

"Yea, sure. Listen, I need to - excuse me, Spike, Twilight," I muttered, squeezing my way past the two purple beings. I heard Lilian rummaging about the Fate, no doubt cleaning up any scratch marks on the seats, untangling the belts, and etcetera. I brought my hand up to the Cadet’s shoulder, turning her around so we weren't facing the ponies. "I need to clear some things up, get some reports organized. I'll give them a quick tour of the ship, but I'll need someone to take care of them after that. I'm putting you, Roland, Dylan, and Lilian in charge of them while I'm occupied. Keep them away from the armory, the dangerous medical equipment, anything that can blow up; deadly foods, and most importantly, keep them away from any airlocks. I want those things sealed tight."

"Uh." Even through her alien face I could tell she was slightly taken aback by all of this being dumped on her at once. Too bad for her, because it just happened. "Yessir. Will do. I'll talk to the other three in a moment."

"Good," I said, and turned back to face the others. Roland was off in one corner of the hangar with Dylan, making some wild and rather obscene gestures with his hands. I heard Aran's light footsteps fade as she walked over to them, hopefully to slap Roland for whatever he was describing. The ponies stared uncomfortably at me, half-on and half-off the ramp in an odd fashion. I smirked. "And as for er, you si- uh, seven! They'll be getting ready for you while I show you the ship. Now for the first part of our galactic-tour, I'll be a bit preoccupied setting things up with my superiors, but that's natural. After this walk, I'll leave you to explore the ship as you wish... with some restrictions, of course. Now...." I spun left, dramatically holding one arm out as I walked around the Fate. The ponies followed me in a group, whispering hushed things amongst themselves. I didn't bother to pay attention. I didn't care.

"Welcome to the Homebound! This is the hangar bay. That's our main cargo holding area, and that lovely vehicle is called the Bearclaw. Hopefully we won't actually have to use it. Haha!" I gave a fake laugh and even faker smile, gesturing to each object in turn.

"Whoa! Does that thing move? What's that thing on top?" Rainbow Dash said excitedly, flapping up to get a closer look at the vehicle. She was stopped quickly and rudely by her tail behind chomped on by an orange hat-wearing pony. Rainbow frowned, but stayed hovering a few feet off the ground, only slightly higher than me. Good girl, AJ. Teach her some manners!

"Yes, it does," I said as we walked past it. Above us I could hear another loud grinding and whirring noise as the crane for the Fate lifted it back up to the ceiling, where it would be stored until it was needed later. "And that's a turret. It fires kinetic projectiles."

"Like what?" Twilight asked from beside me. I looked down at her and continued that fake flight-attendant smile.

"Explosives. Like fireworks," I said simply, eliciting a startled gasp from one of the ponies, nevermind which. I could hear Pinkie chattering to Fluttershy about how great it would be if I could make a cake-firing gun.

It wouldn’t be awesome. It would be a waste of cake.

"Why would you need to fire those, though?" Twilight asked, arching an eyebrow innocently.

I stopped in my tracks. That was the word, wasn't it? Innocently. Innocent. I guess I hadn't thought of it that much, or really comprehended it at all, really. These ponies, and dragon, and hell, all of Equestria, they were all innocent. How ironic that I, a man who had ended billions of lives, would end up taking care of some of the most innocent things in all of existence. How unfair. Unfair to all of us, really. But mostly to me. Don’t ask why I just said billions.

It was about then that I realized that I would probably be going to Hell. Or worse.

Unless, I thought, I did my best to attempt to preserve their innocence. Then they wouldn't have to face the horrors of the galaxy. Their infant-like minds would not be saddled, pun intended, by the weight of such terrible nastiness. I would not be the one to smudge their entire culture with the horrors of the galaxy. I was going to do the impossible. I was going to make the galaxy look like a nice, caring place. One that these beings could relate to.

Trust me, I’ve done the impossible lots of times.

"And that over there," I said, shattering her question with the butt of my heel, pointing directly in front of us, "is the Wing insignia. You can see it on my uniform, and on the armor the cadets and I wear. It's very lovely." Above the door exiting the hangar hung a large golden statue. Not actual gold, but gold colored. Etched upon it was a massive rendition of the Wing symbol. Every ridge on the diamond, every feather on the outstretched wings. It was all there in its glory. It was very pleasing to look at, and it was very shiny. I liked shiny things.

The back wall to the hangar was a lot less blank than the other two walls. Every few feet was an outcropping of, you guessed it, a deep grey. Technically, these were referred to as "wires" and they ran all throughout the hallways of the ship and acted as an easy way to fix power problems without digging through the innermost bits of the hull. It also looked snazzy, I thought.

Above us, spaced out between the crane machinery, were large overhead lights. They cast a dull, sterile white glow on everything, and were placed all throughout the ship. The only exception for this rule was the navigation hub, because the holograms fizzled out under this particular light.

I lead the group over to the door, most of them looking up in awe at the statue resting above the doorframe. Two light black panels slid back, revealing a square room in front of us, two doors to either side, and two hallways leading down on either side of the room. Each had one of the thick, thrumming grey "wires" protruding down them, which only stopped to arch toward the ceiling when a door came in the way. I pointed at the door in front as the ponies accumulated behind me. "There's the medical bay. You'll see it soon enough. And those two..." I swung around to point at each of the doors to our immediate lefts and rights. "Both of those lead to crew quarters, bathrooms included. You won't be getting your own rooms, so I hope you can get along during the night. One of you will also have to periodically switch beds with one of the crew, unless someone wants to cuddle up with me in the Captain's bed." I grinned at them, getting a few chuckles from most, and an uproarious bout of laughter from Pinkie Pie. God, she was annoying.

Leading them down one of the two hallways, I gestured to each door as we came to it. "There's the power control, cafeteria, meeting hall, kitchen, AI core."

"Oooh! Can we make cakes in the kitchen?"

"I-" I stopped, turning to face the excitable pink menace. I frowned, and looked to Twilight. "I'm going to have to stock up on lots of sugary stuff with her around, aren't I?"

"Yes,” Twilight said matter-of-factly.

"Awww, so you don't have any cake?" Pinkie asked, grimacing pathetically as her face suddenly appeared in front of mine. For the briefest of moments, I felt very violated, as if my entire view of how the universe worked had briefly been trodden upon, and it made me uncomfortable. "Well the next time we can get cake, can you pleasepleaseprettypleasewithacherryontop get some?"

I blinked.

"Yea, whatever."

"Do you swear?"

"Sure."

"But do you Pinkie Pie Swear it?"

I blinked again. Pinkie Pie Swear? Was that like, swearing on some sort of holy-text in Equestria? Was she named after some past deity? That would make the most sense, so I replied in turn, "Yes. I Pinkie Pie Swear that at the next opportunity, I will get some cake for you."

"Yay! Omigosh, I forgot! There's going to be so many new treats to try! Spacey treats!" Pinkie bounded around me for a moment, making me stagger backwards in confusion and, for the briefest of moments, fear. She stopped - finally - and gave me an all-too-serious salute. "Captain, with your permission, I'd like to make it my mission to try every treat the galaxy has to offer."

I absently brushed at nonexistent dust on my jacket, licking my lips. "Uh, sure. You can do that. As I was saying, girls." I grinned that big fake grin again, and spun around on one heel. "We're coming up to the stairwell. Three directions. Two go to the engine rooms and manual cannon control, and the other leads up to the navigation room, lounge, bridge, and most importantly, my quarters."

"Why iss your room the most important? I mean, um, not to sound rude or anything, I’m just curious." Twilight asked, cantering over to my left side. I glanced down at her, and turned to face one of the various screens hitched to the wall. I tapped once on it, and TACT's signature mushroom-like symbol appeared on top of a loading bar.

"Because I'm in it, and I'm the captain. You can have a ship without a ship, but you can't have a captain without a captain." I blinked, frowning. "Wait. That's not right."

"TACT Online. Welcome Back Aboard, Sir,“ the mushroom droned out, glowing on each word.

"Yea, yea. What's our energy reserve at?" I asked, nervously flicking my eyes between the ponies and the screen. They just stared open-mouthed, and I could see Pinkie Pie withholding a gleeful something-or-other by dancing precariously on the tips of her hooves, mouth scrunched up. It was probably a shout, or maybe she'd just explode into confetti. That would be funny. Freaking hilarious.

"Energy Reserves Are Currently At Fifty Four Percent. Fuel Is At-"

"Stop there. Alright. Can you level out our speed, so that we can get to Omega as fast as possible, preferably with at least ten percent energy left?"

"I Can Make The Necessary Adjustments. We Will Arrive At The Anomaly Exit Point In Several Minutes. Is That All, Sir?"

"Oh, yea. We have some guests aboard with us. Ambassadors. So don't yell at them, alright?"

"Yes Sir. I Think It Fair To Note That They Are Equine In Nature, Though They Do Not Appear To Be Of Any Recognizable Species In My Databases."

"Yea, horse things. They're called ponies."

"According To My Databases, Ponies Are Extinct." TACT said, and I groaned as several gasps came from behind me. I clamped down on the silver ring Celestia had given me, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger. TACT stayed mercifully silent, of course, that didn't stop the ponies from crowding around me, glaring up into my eyes in a sort of creepy menacing way that didn't fit their adorable outward appearances. Rainbow Dash hovered, somehow, with her hooves crossed.

"Um," I said stupidly.

(9) Leaving the Anomaly

-Aboard the Homebound K-196

-Twelve hours after first contact

-Middle Corridor

-

I was in a really bad position all of a sudden, and my first instinct was to count my losses and book it. At least I wasn’t getting shot at this time. On second thought, I liked getting shot at more; then I could shoot back.

“What're you talking about?" Rainbow Dash prodded. Literally. She jabbed my chest with a marshmallow hoof, which was surprisingly firm for a marshmallow. I instinctively took a step back, surprised at her forcefulness. I might react the same way if I was told my species was pretty much extinct, even though my species technically was pretty much extinct. That's another story, though, for a later day. Rainbow Dash brought her hoof back to herself and said, "I mean, we're right here, and we're ponies! We can't be extinct!"

Terribly sorry, I wanted to say, smiling a stupid goofy grin, but it appears you no longer exist.

I smiled the kind of smile any tough interrogator would’ve loved seeing on me. I was aware, of course, that if Twilight Sparkle truly wanted, she could probably tear the Homebound into itty bitty pieces, and then teleport each individual piece to an alternate dimension, where they'd either be largely ignored, or cause some kind of huge catastrophe with the populace. If Princess Celestia’s praise of her skill was anything to go by, at least. So I raised one finger to reply in a matter of fact tone that they were not in fact extinct and that TACT was referring to another brand of ponies, which were only extinct if you counted Earth being missing for so long. I was interrupted. Guess by who?

"Ooooh! If we're extinct, does that make us dinosaurs?"

"Pinkie-"

"Because if I'm a dinosaur, I want to be a T-Rex!" Pinkie suddenly was right in front of my face, holding her two front hooves up in the most predatory way possible. "RWWWAAARRR-urk!"

Applejack was nice enough to spare me, yanking hard on the insane pony’s tail. One orange hoof appeared from her to block the muzzle, where Pinkie continued rambling into it. "Aw shucks, sorry about that," Applejack said, grinning sheepishly as Pinkie's tail fell back to the floor. "Go on, sugarcube."

I chuckled blandly, and licked my lips. I had to act fast, and lie faster. "H-he’s not talking about your kind of ponies. It, uh, might be something to do with the translation spell on this," I muttered, holding up the hand with the ring, "being weird, but I don't know. Translation spells - magic - I guess, uhh...."

"Can be unpredictable," Twilight Sparkle finished for me, earning a grateful smile. It was good she knew about magic more than I did. Her helpfulness just made it easier to lie. "It's alright, Mister Amb-...Captain. But what type of pony was he referring to, then?" She looked at me, eyes glinting with that draconic look that made it easy to compare her to a black hole who only devoured knowledge. I could relate. I loved knowing things - like enemy movements, weak spots... I digress. The lying had to keep going if I wanted to make it out of this. I had to avoid Earth.

"Ah, he meant the ponies from one of our older species’ civilizations, the humans, I think.” I held out my hands in a whimsical way that I remember an old ur’luk shama doing - even though I might’ve gotten it wrong since I had been looking at the shaman through the scope of a sniper at the time. “It was an ancient, almost mythical place that sort of disappeared a, say, couple thousand years ago. Technically, they're extinct, but there are still some equine-like species, mostly decending from, uh, horses, and, uh... yea. That's it. No big deal. Anyway,” I rattled off, making for the final door on this floor, where the two hallways converged once more. There were several sounds of conversation behind me. I ignored all of them, having just dodged a bullet, and my mind continued down that track while the door opened to reveal a remarkably small space, with three staircases in either immediate direction. I stomped up the one directly in front of us. I let my mind wander and focused on the clopping of hooves on metal stairs.

Bad idea. It sounded far too much like the claws of a ravenous BAI parasite.

“Who were the humans?” Twilight asked. I felt like a tiny fish that had been tossed back into the pond full of hungry sharks by the fisherman, just because I was too small. In retrospect, I had always preferring shooting the fish instead of taking the old-fashioned route of just catching them with a net or hook. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, the humans used to say.

“They’re, uh...” I whispered, stopping on the steps to thing for a moment. They all watched me, their wide eyes somehow wider. I coughed into my hand and said, “Well, they’re sort of our predecessors. Before everything was like it is now - and I mean thousands and thousands of years ago - there were only humans. They were the ones who first discovered all of this technology. They made an entire civilization spanning past even our galaxy. Then still thousands of years ago ago... poof.”

“Poof?” they asked in unison.

“Poof,” I said, the start of a smile sneaking up on my lips, “and now we’re here,” I finished.

Their hoofsteps still sounded like claws to me.

Refusing to dwell on that absolutely terrifying mental image, because anyone who's ever faced a BAI parasite never forgets that sound - or, usually, comes out of the encounter alive. I quickened my pace and essentially ran up the stairs like a scared child. Don’t ask why I was suddenly so afraid of those ponies, because I wasn’t, my instincts were. I’ve honed myself to run like a scared schoolchild when I hear BAI, and I’m definitely not going to change that anytime soon. If you had spent months listening to those horrible skittering sounds like I had, you probably wouldn’t have a choice in being wary of it, let alone outright scared. Because if you weren’t, you were dead.

So it goes.

A few moments and exasperated panting later, we all stood at the top of the stairs, which opened up into a small lounge, with a small indoor garden of ship-friendly plants and benches, and one of the three windows on the entire ship. The window was currently closed, thank God. Looking at space is fine, but looking at an unfamiliar space isn't fine. There was still the matter of this bothersome anomaly that would have to be addressed later. Priorities, priorities.

"And what, dear sir, was that about?" Rarity said between pants, looking at me like how a giant bug might see an even bigger can of bug spray, or perhaps the business end of a gun. I waved my hand in a dismissive way at her, instantly replacing my stoic look by brushing off imaginary dust from my jacket.

"Nothing, nothing. Instinct kicked in there for a moment. I lean towards the former when it comes to flight versus fight."

"Then what did you think you were, um, fleeing from?" Twilight asked, struggling to regain her composure.

"You don't want to know," I muttered, quickly turning around to face the lounge, more specifically, down it. The lounge, of course, was more of a very thick hallway that looked very pretty. The plants, of course, were green. Most plans were green. When I had heard that a lot of people on Gantoris had the notion in their heads that lots of the alien worlds out there had plants that looked like they had been colored by a blind person with a neon rainbow, I couldn’t help but laugh myself into a teary stupor.

TACT's mushroom-insignia popped up on one of the walls’ screens, looking very menacing - or really silly, depending on how you looked at it. The window was midway down the hall, between two doors, one of which lead to my quarters, the other leading to the holo-room. The last of the dull, paneled doors, slightly wider than normal for traffic control, sat at the far end of the hallway. The various accessories of the lounge stopped some space before the door to my quarters, which was very nice, because I didn't like having the first thing I see every morning be a bunch of dumb plants. Instead, I always opened the door to either face a closed, or very open window. Not open in the sense where the glass was gone, of course. Why would I open a window in space? Well, there are several reasons; most of which I’d rather not explain.

"That's my quarters. Technically, it's private, but if you ever need me, feel free to knock," I said as we passed by the aforementioned entry. There were several mumbles of agreement, and in Pinkie's case, a very loud outburst that sounded something like "Ok-ee, doh-kee-, loh-kee." I'm unsure if that has any specific meaning to Equestrians, but if Pinkie Pie was named after one of their gods, they might consider her some sort of priest, and it had heavy religious significance.

What a weird religion, then. But I guess it's not my place to judge.

I absently pointed to the door to the holo-room. "That's the navigation center, but everyone just calls it the holo-room, etcetera. I'll show you what I mean, later." I looked to TACT, who had hopped to a closer screen. "Oi. TACT. How long until we get to the anomaly edge?"

"Five Basic Minutes, Sir."

"Is Evo in the bridge?"

"I Believe He Is Taking A Quick Nap. Shall I Wake Him?"

"No. I'll do that. TACT, open the door.”

“Yes Sir.” The door slid open with an almost silent hissing noise, and I took a deep breath.

“EVO WE’RE UNDER ATTACK BY EMPERIUM BATTLESHIPSDON’TPRESSANYBUTTONS!” I shouted into the bridge, watching with sick satisfaction as a lumpy form in the pilot’s chair jerked around madly, spewing mindless curses that made no sense in the order he presented them in. Within seconds he had spun around to face me with eyes big enough to make one of the ponies flinch. With one hand hovering - no, twitching - right above an obscured button I assumed said “Red Alert” on it, he blinked at my smile. Then he blinked again, his features slowly loosening up like a deflated balloon. He put his hand down and offered a shy smile.

“Um. I...” He looked down at his hands, cheeks reddening. “I am sorry, Captain. I should not have fallen asleep.”

“Darn right you shouldn’t have,” I grumbled, taking quick, controlled steps over to the pilot’s chair. Evo spun it around to face me, and his eyes lit up when he noticed the ponies as they filed through the door. “Anyways,” I said, sort of flapping my hand at the ponies in an uncaring “let’s get this over this” gesture, “these are the Equestrian... err, ambassadors. Twilight, Spike, Fluttershy, Applejack...” I tapped my forehead with a finger, racking my brain. “Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pine. They’re ponies... except Spike is a dragon or something.”

“Pie!” the pink pony announced. I shrugged, and spun back to face Evo. Without a second thought, the cadet’s head bobbed back and forth, and he slid out from the seat to stand near the ponies. I smiled a plastic smile at him and took his place. I loved wordless exchanges like that. So much easier on the throat, although depending on who you were talking to at the time, tougher on the fists.

“Ah. Um. Pleasure to meet all you ponies. I am Evo Andres, cadet in Wing. I specialize in non-fighter class ship piloting and weapons control. You have nice hat,” the spindly man said in, somehow, a boastful voice. I’d have to ask why he and Lilian had the same last name and completely different accents. Anyways, from where I was sitting, Evo was making good pals with the ponies, so I spun around in the chair to face the open bridge window.

“TACT. Intercom on,” I grunted, shifting into a more comfortable position. TACT’s stupid little mushroom face appeared on one of the holoscreens and I huffed. “Alright, cadets. You better freak’n book it up here to your posts and get strapped down. We’re going to be at the Anomaly exit soon. Also, Lilian, good job thinking ahead and installing the pony-specific seats on the unused walls of the bridge. Intercom off.” I spun around to face Evo and the ponies. Evo was wearing Applejack’s hat and grinning like an idiot. The hat didn’t even go well with the uniform.

Some people just have no fashion sense.

“Girls, boys, settle down. Evo, I know you’re our pilot and all, but I need you to take the navigation panel for this.” The cadet nodded, and took the spot in front of the bridge window; Art had sat there before. Then he got up, his back stiff from embarrassment, and walked over to give Applejack her hat back. I rolled my eyes, and waited until the ponies (and dragon) and their attention back on me. “Alright, girls, Spike, you see those chairs lined up on the walls? I know they’re pretty far apart in some places, but I need you to sit in them. I, uh, neglected to tell you something about our ‘leaving Equestria’ part of the trip.”

“Oh, and what may I ask was that?” Rarity asked, trotting past me and to the cleanest looking of the chairs. Rainbow Dash followed in her wake, scowling at me.

“Well it better not be too important. I’ve tied myself down enough times today!”

“Now Rainbow, ain’t no reason to get fussy over it, an’ I bet he jus’ forgot about it,” Applejack said, hot on the tail of the perturbed pegasus. I sighed, and slumped ever so slightly in my seat. The farmpony nodded at me with a healthy dose of genuine smile, and I mean the kind you only get from the civilians that live on the more sparsely populated worlds. Especially from when right after you knock an invading fleet out of the sky. Those smiles were the best. I hadn’t seen one for far too long.

“Girls, girls, stop crowding him,” Twilight chided, stepping up to me. I looked down at her with an almost impassioned face, raising an eyebrow in question. “Um, Captain? What did you need to tell us?”

“Oh,” I droned, falling back into a safe, secure, monotone voice that would make TACT proud. “Well it just so happens there’s a large anomaly of unknown substance and origin that surrounds your system. To us, it is mostly invisible and is the reason why we’ve never found your planet before. We need to fly through that to get back into Wing space, and it might get a little... bumpy.”

“Bumpy how?” Twilight asked, retreating back to her seat now that the threat was active. I smiled, and glanced down at the stats rolling across the holo-screen. I vaguely heard the pitter-patter of footsteps as the four other crew-members strolled into the bridge, taking their designated seats. At least this time they knew to get buckled in, and exactly what was going to happen when we exited the Anomaly. A few words were exchanged between them, and then it came into view.

It was so sudden, like the whole universe just completely flickered out, each and every star being swallowed by a horrible blackness that consumed your entire existence. It was one thing to look up at the stars and feel very small, but it was a completely new feeling to look up at where the stars weren’t, and feel very alone and small. It was like some shadowing figure was pushing a pillow down upon the face of the whole universe. It was scary.

It was the Anomaly.

“Alright. Crew, get to your stations. No yelling about your station’s status once we get out. Girls, don’t be scared if you black out or feel a little woozy. It won’t hurt, but it might be a bit, uh, intense. TACT?” I gripped the joysticks stuck on to the chair with a controlled firmness I could only summon when lives were at stake, and my gaze glued itself to the bridge window. My pale hands were already slick with sweat, like they knew what was coming. Good. “Hand over manual control of the ship,” I said, my voice ringing like the steel on a sword.

“Yes Sir.”

“All crew, this is your captain speaking, get ready to exit the anomaly. Accelerating now,” I said, pushing the handles forward as the words left my mouth. It was a practiced movement, and one that all Admirals knew. When you were in the Wing, you knew how to fly a ship or you were already dead. With that grim thought in mind, my focus shifted from the blankness of the anomaly to the numbers flashing across the holo-screen. One caught my eye, and it was decreasing by a hundred every two seconds. I remembered looking at that number right before we entered the anomaly the first time, but at least I wouldn’t be taken by surprise here and now. Whatever happened last time, would happen this time. It had to.

Red lights blared.

Somepony shrieked.

The last thing I felt was my face falling through the holo-screen like a deep blue ocean coming up to meet me.

~=V=~

6-5-1-18 UNKNOWN ENTRY.

20-8-5 CANNOT DECIPHER.

3-15-13-9-14-7 SECURITY RECORDING LOG ERROR.

19-20-15-18-13 PLAYBACK ERROR.

“I’ve never been one to doubt you, sir, but-”

“Do it.”

“Sir, you can’t undo something like thi-”

“I said do it, Lieutenant. If the other Admiral ordered it be done, I won’t be the one to stand in his way. You have a problem with that?”

“You have the authority to stop this! This isn’t what we stand for! Jackson, you have to listen t-”

BANG.

“Nobody calls me Jackson. I will be known as Admiral Amber. Somebody clean up this body.”

~=V=~

“Captain?” Somebody smacked my face. Hard.

“Rrg, I’m up. Shrgrsh,” I grunted, opening my eyes and blinking past the initial pain of being brutalized into consciousness. The teryn - I hadn’t bothered to remember her exact name - stood over me with a perturbed expression that I only ever saw disappointed mothers use when looking at their moronic kids screwing around. “What happen?” I slurred, rubbing my eyes when the bright lights of the bridge assaulted them. I heard her huff, muffled while the holo-screen fizzled back to life.

“You blacked out only for a few seconds the last time, Captain, and I... recommend you don’t go through the anomaly again without us knowing more about it. You lasted a full minute; we couldn’t wake you.”

“Nng. Alright,” I muttered, finally getting a chance to observe the room without my eyeballs feeling like they were going to melt out. Roland and Dylan were unbuckling the girls and Spike, while Twilight excitedly looked out the bridge window. A few of them definitely looked shaken up, and their eyes flitted about the ship like it was going to collapse any moment. Except for Twilight, though; she just looked like she was going to wet herself. It was almost cute. I had felt the same way when I had first joined the Wing, serving as a communications officer aboard the ESS Legacy. We were only attacked once, but that battle still stuck in my memory and I remember looking exactly like Twilight did. They were good times. They were gone times. But nonetheless, I couldn’t have nervous members on my ship, especially if they were inexperienced diplomats. I had to talk, or to make a speech.

Speeches sucked.

“Erm, ahem. Everyone stand right over here. TACT, online?” I asked, waving Dylan, Roland, and the other crewmembers into the lowered area right in front of the pilot’s seat. It was made to fit the entire crew plus five, but with all the ponies it seemed a bit cramped. I smiled at the thought while they ordered themselves.

“Yes Sir.”

“Alright,” I said, ignoring TACT. “Everyone who somehow hasn’t figured it out yet, that was the anomaly. It overloads our power systems and, more often than not, forces anyone alive to black out for a while, including TACT. From what we know, it isn’t dangerous, and there’s probably a way to bypass both effects and we’ll send a couple research vessels out this way later, but for now, we’re past it and in the clear. The closest Wing territory from this point is the Omega system, and we’ll be headed for Starbase Omega itself. With what power and fuel we have left, TACT, how fast do you think we could make it to Omega with ten percent power and fuel left?”

“At Our Fastest, We Could Be There Within A Day.”

“Good, good. Keep us on autopilot for that amount of time. I want the crew and ponies to adjust their sleeping schedule back to Galactic Basic. I don’t want anyone staying awake in the middle of the night when we reach Gantoris, aye?”

“Acknowledged, Sir.”

“And as for you girls,” I announced, turning to face the ponies and Spike. “And the crew, of course. I’m going to need you to stick with the crew whenever we reach a Wing-controlled area. If you don’t have a crew member to buddy up with, stick to me and me only. The cities can be pretty big and confusing in the more, uh, populated areas. Got it? Good. Now... hm. Lilian?”

“Yessir?” The cadet straightened out, and her arm jerked; she had suppressed a salute. I wasn’t sure what to think of that observation. The new generation was far too formal if you asked me. When I had joined the Wing, all we had time to do was fight for survival and keep our citizens safe. Nobody saluted me then. It was all just respectful nods and a few, “Thank you for saving our arses out there, Admiral!”s.

“You’re the one who modified these chairs to fit them. I have absolutely no freak’n idea how you managed to do that with the few tools we have on this ship, but good job. When we get to Gantoris, I want you to outfit the ponies, and, uh, Spike, with some equipment. Just a headset is all I want for them at the moment, make it a holo-one, so they can get video feed too. Can you do that?”

“Can do, sir.”

“Good. Maybe I’ll design them from EPA suits and pony-capable VALKs for when we get to Han Wavel, but for now it’s up to you. Anyone have anything to say?” Evo’s hand slowly slid up, and I nodded at the accented young pilot.

“I call partner buddies with Applejack. Her hat is fabu... fab... good.”

Oh, great.

“Ha! Well I get the rainbow one, then!” Roland exclaimed in a voice bit too loud for my tastes, pointing at the shorter cadet with a mocking finger. Evo shrunk down a bit under his glare, and in the background I saw Lilian chuckling.

“It’s Rainbow Dash! I have a name!”

“Guys, this isn’t a contest.”

“Ooh, ooh, yay! I call the big scary silent one!”

“I.. what?”

They faded as the door shut behind me. Somewhere during the insanity, I had decided staying in there wouldn’t be worth my time, because eventually the crew would discover two of the ponies would be left out, and then they’d argue over which of them got to buddy with two. With the incessant voices nothing more but a memory poking the back of my head with a stick, I took a deep breath, and headed for my cabin. Halfway there, TACT popped up on the wall panel.

“Try not to scare me like that, TACT,” I deadpanned, sighing into the palm of my hand. AIs always lacked tact for some reason.

Wait a minute.

“Erm, so. TACT. Our communications?”

“Communications Are Still Offline. However, In Exiting The Anomaly I Noticed A Hidden Jamming Device Had Been Removed. Whatever Was Blocking Me From Repairing the Damage Without Expending Massive Amounts Of Power Has Now Been Removed. I Am Able To Commence Repairs At Your Leisure.”

“When can you have them done, do you think?”

“Tomorrow Mid-Day Galactic Basic Time, At Most.”

“Good, you get on that, then.”

“Acknowledged, Sir.”

“Still hate you, though.”

“Acknowledged, Sir.”

By the time his last word had come out, I was already through my cabin door, eagerly awaiting a nice, comfortable sleep. There would be no worried over if the suicide mission would end in my death. There would be no bombs going off around me. There would be nobody knocking on my door like there was now. I suppressed a deep-throated groan, and spun on my heel. I could’ve sworn my eye twitched a little. “Yes?” I asked before the door could even finish opening itself. Before me was Roland, flanked by Dylan. Both were still in their armor, and Dylan was still in his helmet. I had seen all of the crew so far except for him, so why couldn’t I remember him from earlier?

“Uh, Captain. Dylan mentioned something to me back in the hangar, before we left the anomaly...” Roland began, and I held up a hand to interrupt him.

“He mentioned something to you?”

“Err. Yessir. She wrote it down on her datapad and sent me a message.”

“She?”

“Yeah. She told me that she needs to see an engineer as soon as we get to Omega. Her, uh, voicebox broke.” I blinked. “She lost her vocal cords or something on Myrkr - back in the wars. They didn’t have any bio-menders on hand, so they had to put a false voicebox in her throat. I mean, I hadn’t noticed the first time, but... err, yea. We think it overloaded when we went through the anomaly the first time.”

“And the helmet?”

“Err, yea. I asked about that, sir. It broke.”

“You can’t just-”

“Yes sir, yes sir. I know, but it just fizzled out and fused to the rest of the suit somehow. It might have something to do with the voicebox getting messed up, since... I, oh nevermind. She just wants you to know she needs a new one. If Omega can fabricate any...”

“I’ll let them know. I need my crew in top shape if we’re going to get anything done. That means no mutes. If I can’t get you one on Omega, Dylan,” I said, looking over to the silent soldier, “I’ll place an order for a high-end fancy one on Gantoris, my treat. As for the helmet, talk to Lilian. She’s our engineer, or something.”

“Will do, sir,” Roland tried to say, but the door had already shut. I started at the locked device for the moment, the prime question in my mind sounding a bit like, “Why am I so grumpy?” Whatever the reason was for my sudden downward mood, I didn’t know, and right now all I wanted was some sleep, so I didn’t care either.

I grumbled a few foreign curses, and frowned at the silver colored ring stuck onto my fingers. Had I just heard that right? It didn’t seem to be translating the curses. When the ponies talked, it was like they were badly lip synching, and I was sure the crew and I looked the same. The ring worked with TACT, so I could assume a lot, but magic was unpredictable, like Twilight had said. It was wonky. It was weird. I had still seen weirder. I could probably deal with anything those ponies had to throw at me. I’ve fought giant alien wolves before. Rest in Peace, Fluffy. Born, unknown; died, me. I didn’t want to tempt fate.

I slid the ring off my finger and stepped up to the mirror, holding it out before me. I wasn’t unfamiliar with “magical” things. I remembered when the VALK technology had been discovered so many years ago, even if it felt more like jumbled emotions from a half-remembered dream. People back then thought it was magical. Then we reverse-engineered it, created hyper-advanced AIs, new power sources, teleporters that could take you across the vast reaches of space. “Magic” was something the galaxy was familiar with, but this wasn’t that kind of magic. This was different, and familiar all the same.

My eyes drifted from the ring to my haggard face. A few days without shaving hadn’t done much. I had always grown hair slowly, even though the doctors said I never helped the matter by getting my face blown up every time I walked out the door. But if I wasn’t getting my face torn up to protect them, who would? I blinked, and dull brown eyes blinked back, their edges marred by years of fighting and seeing fighting. Just because we had VALKs didn’t mean I never had to see people getting blown in half by enemy fire - or worse.

I sighed, tearing my eyes from the sunken face that looked like me. I looked down at my bed. The only really comfortable bed on the entire ship. Then someone knocked. At that point, I think I was too tired and annoyed to understand I had stomped over to the door, practically pushing it open faster than it could itself. Behind it was Twilight, looking up at me with the hopeful eyes of a young scholar on an adventure.

Too bad she was looking into the eyes of a haggard, annoyed war ‘vet who wanted only a bit of sleep and wasn’t about to listen to a plush unicorn for hours. I smiled anyways, and tried not to have my eyes twitch this time.

“Hello, Captain. The others all went down to the medical bay for vaccinations, but I just wanted to tell you something.”

“What,” I grunted. No time for pleasantries. Bed called.

“Well, you see, when the ship exited the anomaly, I noticed none of my friends blacked out like you warned would happen. I felt an intense magical shield envelop the area around us, and that power surge, I think, wasn’t caused by going through the anomaly, because it was because we weren’t ever going through the anomaly. It was... sort of like a teleport spell, but like nothing I’d ever seen before...”

“Cool,” I deadpanned, pressing a button. The door closed, and I pretended I didn’t hear the hoofsteps slowly moving down the hallway and that I wasn’t imagining Twilight looking like a sad puppy. “Cool,” I repeated, taking a slow, deep breath.

What she had just said, changed everything.

(10) Old Friends

-Aboard the Homebound K-196

-Twelve hours after leaving the anomaly.

-Hangar bay.

-

“TACT?”

“Yes Sir?”

“The, uh, security cameras around the ship are still operational, right?” I asked, leaning against the wall. Behind me, I could hear the rhythmic thumping of feet pounding the ground. The crew was busy doing their work out. They’d gotten long enough of a break from it, and soldiers - even me - needed to keep fit. I should’ve been out there with them, really, but I needed a break to talk to TACT privately.

“Yes Sir.”

“Alright, off that topic. You said yesterday that there was a jamming device in the communications, preventing you from repairing them. Any idea why?” TACT’s screen flickered for a moment, sucking up valuable power in order to fuel his giant brain. Having an AI was costly in terms of power usage sometimes, which was why we had a separate AI core just for that reason. If need be, TACT could operate on his own power for thousands of years. You know, just in case we needed to do that.

“I Do Not Fully Understand It Myself, Sir, And Am Mostly Unable To Explain What Happened. I Assume The So Called ‘Magic’ In The Anomaly Interfered With The Communications, But It May Also Be That A Jamming Device Was Placed Soon After We Entered, And The ‘Magic’ Removed It When We Left.”

“So someone’s a spy? It’s about time we found one and strung him up for all the other potential spies to see. I do so love that kind of punishment,” I hissed, looking over my shoulder to the cadets, now doing laps around the hangar. Worse, this entire situation seemed to stump TACT, and anything that stumped an advanced AI was a bit beyond me.

“Presumably, Sir.”
“Alright. Back to the cameras, then. Just wanted to confirm something.... Okay, uh, I need you to keep an eye on the crew; monitor them. If one of them’s a spy, I want to nail them good. But... wait, what if the spy was left back on Equestria with Art? Oh nonono... this is bad.” I clenched my teeth, half my brain trying to figure out how to solve this problem, and the other half berating me for being so stupid as to let one of my crew be a spy. “TACT, I probably should’ve asked this earlier, but do we still have those probes? I don’t remember if we left them on Equestria or not.”

“They Are Still In The Cargo Manifest, Sir.”

“Good. Think you can, maybe, launch one? Have it contain a message directed to Celestia and Commander Boyo. Message reads, uh: Sorry to interrupt whatever you’re up to, but all the cadets are now officially promoted to ensign and he can give them their pips any time he wants. Also, new information suggests one of the crew from the Homebound is a spy, and it might be one of the cadets on Equestria. You may want to look into that. End message. Got it? Oh, and the promotion thing. I’ll be promoting these guys as soon as we get to Gantoris. Not that you care.”

“Wireless Uplink Secured. Probe Activated And Message Stored. A Crew Member Will Need To Fully Release The Probe Into Space, Sir.”

“Send a message to Roland and Dylan’s datapads. After lunch, I want them on it. No breaks. Word it how you want.”

“Acknowledged, Sir.”

“And how are the communication repairs going?”

“I Estimate They Will Be Completed Within Three-And-A-Half Hours, Sir. Right After Lunch.”

“Brilliant, now- HEY!” I shouted, turning to face the crew. “What do you think you’re doing? I see you slacking off there! That’s right! I want five sets of lunges across the width of the hangar! I’ll join you in a second....” I brushed a hand through my slicked-back hair, nodding with sick satisfaction as it came away greasy. I had shaved my head for a good number of years in the Wing. Anything longer got caught in helmets or was a perfect target for baddies to yank on. I wore a sleek grey bandanna back then. The style sort of faded out, and I don’t remember when I exactly decided to let it grow. So it goes.

“TACT. Do you, uh, have any idea what kind of exercises a pony would do? I can’t have them just watching while the rest of us sweat, and I literally have no idea what they would be doing.”

“No Data Available. I Suggest You Ask One Of Them.”

“Thanks a bunch, you overhyped pile of wires,” I muttered, grinning a little as TACT took that as an excuse to go mess with some other part of the ship, his mushroom insignia fizzling into the regular blue screen. I stepped out to the middle of the hangar, where Twilight and her friends were staring out of the massive blue energy field and into the emptiness beyond. Stars flickered past at varying speeds, almost like a waterfall of light; one thing was for certain, the ship wasn’t still. Her friends were still mesmerized by the swirling mass of shiny things outside the ship, so Twilight was the only one to turn and smile at me. At least she wasn’t holding a grudge from last night.

“Hello, Captain. I... you’re going to have us do what they’re doing, aren’t you?”

Clever girl.

“Yup. Sorry, Twilight. Despite what you may think, this isn’t any kind of vacation,” I said, nodding in greeting as her other friends turned to face me. Each with a varying degree of trepidation. At least they had gotten their shots. “This is about you learning how we live out in the rest of the galaxy, and right now, you’re honorary members of my crew. I, uh, well I don’t know how ponies workout, so I’m guessing it’s up to you guys. They’ve got...” I paused, looking down at my datapad. “Forty minutes left. All I want is for you to exercise along with them - err, but yeah. I can’t really punish you if you don’t, so, please?”

“Well, duh! I do plenty of training anyways. This’ll be easy as pie!” Rainbow punched the air, and I resisted the urge to punch her.

“Don’t you mean cake, Dashie?!” came the veritably annoying sound of the Pinke Menace. Fist lock-on initiating.

“Well, I s’pose. Ain’t no harm in stayin’ fit, so I’m in.”

“Oooh, I’m going to be all sweaty after this, aren’t I?” Rarity asked, looking mournfully down at her mane. Nevermind Pinksters, I wanted to knock this one out. Then again, why not all of them? Control, I thought to myself, control. You’re just stressed about the spy.

“They have showers, Rarity. I think it’s a good idea,” Twilight said. The rest of the group uttered similar agreements, and I proudly stood over the six. Wait, I thought, six?

“Where’s Spike?” I asked. I really need to pay attention better.

“Oh, Spike’s still asleep. I didn’t want to wake him.” Twilight smiled up at me. “I hope that’s not a problem. He is only a baby dragon.”

Good God, I let a baby on my ship?

“No, it’s fine. Have fun, girls,” I muttered, slinking back to the area designated for the rest of the crew to have their sweaty, grunty fun-time. They were still doing those lunges, and I could see the sweat glistening on all except for Dylan. She still hadn’t gotten out of her suit yet. Creepy, almost. I fell in line with them, right next to Aran, and went through with the motions. We never did these kinds of workouts when I was first joining. We got them for free.

Even old sods like me need to stay fit. Or sweaty. Whichever you prefer.

~=V=~

Nothing really compares to a good shower. Whether it’s hot, cold, or somewhere in between, if you’ve worked hard and know you deserve it, a shower can definitely suffice as your trophy. An actual trophy would be nice too, though. It’s a bit like having your cake and eating it, except having your cake is like finally getting enough time to take a shower, and eating it is like letting the water flow over your shoulders so you can fully appreciate that time.

So I let the water flow over my shoulders, smiling in a giddy bliss that I only felt after a job-well-done. Something was wrong though, and that was the knowledge that this wasn’t a job-well-done. This was just the cold shower before the real storm that would come thundering about and bash my head in with a mallet. Any number of things could go wrong during my mission with the ponies, which I had mentally noted to file under Operation: Homebound, and not just for irony’s sake. Well, a bit for irony’s sake. I liked naming things ironically, which was why I called it the Homebound in the first place. So why not name a mission after what it isn’t? After all, I am taking these poor souls away from their home, with my sole goal being to get them back happy and, more importantly, in one piece. Maybe I just suck at irony.

The soft sound of water pitter-pattering against the tiled floor was the only thing that filled my ears in the washroom. I was the last to take a shower, meaning I got the least and coldest water. That was fine. A happy crew can make all the difference in stressful situations. A clean crew makes me happy, too. The silence of taking a nice shower in an empty washroom was also nice. For once, the hum of the engine was replaced with the hollow trickling of water, and I’d always liked water. It reminded me of home. I preferred things that reminded of me home; it was why I had wooden furniture in each of my quarters.

Showering was the only real time I had to my thoughts, so I tended to think during them.

My hair was a scruffy mess, plastered to my cranium by the clear liquid raining upon me. In the mirror on one side, I could see bits of grey peeking through the hairs. I’d have to get that fixed. Appearances mattered in this galaxy, and looking like an old man never helped anyone get respect. Having an army behind you and a couple of slick one-liners, on the other hand...

I winced as the freezing water slid down my back, spattering against the criss-crossed scars that had taken residence there recently. I hadn’t had time to visit a bio-mender since my latest adventure in “nearly getting killed countless times”, so for now, I had to deal with scars. At least they hadn’t gotten my face, even though they’d managed to get everything but that. There are some things you never live down, but that’s life.

With my mind brought back to the more recent of my failures, one hand slapped against the water control nozzles. The stream stopped, and I leaned against the slick wall for a moment. Drip, drip. Drop. The water slid off of me like I was some sort of big monster hiding in each drop’s closet, ready to gobble them up if they didn’t obey mommy.

Before I could comprehend what I was doing, I already had a used towel tossed to the ground and was putting on my pants like the ship had suddenly sprouted a self destruct timer and I had two minutes to not be naked and show up to continue evacuations. From personal experience, it’s really hard to control any group of people when you’re naked, no matter how loyal they claim to be to you. My washed uniform jacket was hanging on a rack next to the sink, having gone through the automated motions and spurted out clean as a whistle. I threw on a nearby white undershirt before staring at the garmet, seeing my form in the mirror in the corner of my eye.

Then that awful sound came again: knocking. Why me?

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I called. With one hand, I tossed on the jacket, not bothering to zip it. The other hand was busy smashing at my hair to a point where I hoped it didn’t look awful. I was still smacking at my scalp like a frantic squid by the time the door opened. It revealed none other than Twilight, her mane still shining from her own shower. Shouldn’t she have some sort of spell to dry herself off, or something? Then again, I was more concerned with what she wanted, not how her hair shined like... “Yes, Twilight?” I asked, mentally crushing the comparison of the two. If there was anything I was interested in less than love, it was love with someone who was a meter shorter than me and walked on four legs.

Yeah, yeah. I’m defensive, but this is the kind of galaxy where you so much as look at a female and everyone expects you to have some sort of gigantic crush on her - it.

“Uh, hello, Captain. I just wanted to talk a little before lunch. Do you have time?”

I looked at my wrist, specifically where my datapad wasn’t. “Appears I do,” I said slowly, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. “I’m not done getting ready, though. Just gotta do my hair. You’re free to ask in here, though.” I stepped back towards the sink, the long hallway beside me leading to the various bathroom and washing stations that the ships housed. We had two of these areas, one on each side of the ship and right past the regular crew sleeping chambers. The design was meant to be spartan, but to me it just looked overly shiny and chrome.

My hands were slicked with gel, and an open can of the stuff laid on the edge of the running sink. “What do you need, Miss Sparkle?” I asked in what I hoped was a professional tone. The mare trotted up beside me, looking at my hands as they ran through my hair with an odd face of scholarly fascination. “If it’s about the food, I thought the medical officer had already explained that most of us are omnivores and need meat, and you’d apparently been fine with that. Having second thoughts?”

“Um, no. She already explained how the animals you eat aren’t sapient like the ones in Equestria, which is actually pretty-”

Hold on a minute, I told myself while Twilight droned on in the background. All the animals in Equestria were sapient? I suddenly felt a lot more sorry for Art and the four cadets I had left behind. Unless the spy was with him. Then I hoped he had suffered a heart attack when he got the news. Or she. I still couldn’t figure out how I missed that so many of my crew members had ended up female. Oh, right. Twilight needed something.

“- so I had to ask, since... well,” her voice softened a bit, and she looked at apparently a very interesting corner nearby, “you said if we just needed to talk to someone, we could talk to you. So I have to ask something... why us?”

“I ask myself that question every day,” I muttered instantly, tilting my head sideways to get a better look at myself in the mirror. “Sorry, force of habit,” I said a bit louder, looking down into her eyes. At least she had stopped looking at that corner. They weren’t very interesting at all. “Why you, what?”

“I mean, for all of this. Being ambassadors. My friends and I, well, we’re not exactly ambassadorial material, are we?” she asked, trotting around to my other side, and my neck complained as I turned to face her, only to realize half a second too late that I was still busy geling my hair back. “I’m just a bit confused.”

“Well the first lesson in all of this, maybe, is that sometimes the right person for the job is the wrong person - or pony,” I said, half-smiling down at her. “I’m almost glad she chose you. It’s a lot nicer than having an actual ambassador. No offense.”

“None taken. But I don’t get it! I know the Princess trusts me with a lot of things, but how can she expect us all to tell if you and the Wing are worth... well, she said you wanted to protect us like a bodyguard, so I guess she just wants to know if we can trust you. How can she expect me to know the answer to that?”

I was silent for a few moments, my mind running through all possible choices for my next bit of dialogue. I was treading on dangerous ground here, and spouting a witticism might earn me the wrong answer, or even a hoof to the shin. My hair was done being styled, at least, and now shimmered under the bright overhead lights like a plastic wig. Cool water ran over my hands as I worked off the excess gel into the sink. My brow furrowed.

“Maybe she trusts you do to this because you’re normal. Someone in... her position might only see the pros and cons in the big picture, because leaders like her often look at the big picture first. What she wants is someone like you; someone normal, to look at the small picture, because she’s already seen the big picture. She needs a pony, or even a group of ponies, to know if it would truly be one hundred percent worth it, allying with us. You’re here to focus on the little picture, and you seem perfect for the job. I’ve been in this position before.” I stood back, sparing a few moments to admire my complexion in the mirror.

I hadn’t been in that position before, actually. What caused me to lie was just my gut. All I could hope was that it worked.

“I... think I understand now, Captain. How long until lunch?”

I strapped my datapad to my wrist and looked down at it, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise.

“Should be starting now, Miss Sparkle.”

~=V=~

Pinkie Pie danced on the lunch table and sang about lettuce.

That about sums it up. I refuse to let myself remember anything more.

Ponies are weird.

~=V=~

“So I take it you’re following me around the ship for a reason, Twilight?

“Well, what you said about me being a student earlier. I thought about it and... well, I want to learn more about life here, not just experience it. All my other friends - well, except Spike - partnered up with one of your crew members, so I figured it would be okay if I partnered with you. Just for now, I mean. If I bother you, I’ll go somewhere else,” Twilight droned out, continuing to spell out almost an entire contract while we walked away from the hangar bay. The probe launch had gone off without a hitch, and since it was mostly made up of fuel we could be assured it would send the message before we even reached Omega. TACT said we’d most likely lose contact after it went through the anomaly, though, so there was no real way to tell.

Oh, right. Twilight. Honestly the way she could talk and talk without stumbling over her words even once was oddly endearing. In a sort of innocent way.

“So,” I said, brutally interrupting the reiteration of her life history, “you want to captain a vessel and explore the dark reaches of space? Well, it takes a lot of effort. This is actually a pretty small ship, if you knew what I know. A big explorer-classed ship? You’d need a crew of like... seventy, with our level of tech. That’s a lot of people - er, ponies to look over. It takes years of training to get to that point. Even then, you gotta start off as the lowest rank.”

“Well-”

“Shh. Observe the master at work. TACT?” I stopped before the bridge doors, just far away enough so they didn’t open on me. One hand tapped on the top pocket of my black pants, waiting for the wall panel next to me to blip on. Sure enough.

“Yes Sir?”

“Is Evo in there with Applejack?”

“Affirmative.”

“What’s he doing?” I gave a sly wink to Twilight.

“I Believe He Is Currently Bragging To Her About His Pilot Training In the Academy.”

“Is it important?”

“No. I Do Not Believe So, Sir.”

“Alright,” I said, stepping up to the door. It obediently slid aside, and I strode in with a manic grin on my face. “Evo! Just the man I was looking for!”

“Oh, this is bad, isn’t it?” Evo mumbled, spinning around in the pilot’s seat to face me. From behind the holo-screens I could still see his blushing face. Serves him right. Being a pilot wasn’t a job where you could sit around doing nothing. Especially with precious cargo; me. “I am sorry, sir. Was just having short conversation break.”

“Try not to slack off, cadet,” I grunted, looking out at the bridge window. The black blind had been placed back on, covered by a navigational map. I could just see the little red dot representing our ship coming up on the Omega system. We were over three quarters of the way there, if you asked for a rough estimate. “I need to make sure you know what you’re doing. The asteroid fields around Omega are notorious for a reason. A few miscalculated turns and we’ll all be sucked out of ten hull breaches at once. I know you’re a pilot, but they don’t train everyone for the Omega Run.”

“Oh, Omega Run was mentioned in flight class. Many failed VI tests. No worries, I pass with flying colors,” Evo shrugged, practically shivering in his seat. His eyes darted about, like a small animal looking for escape. “TACT showed me best route through fields. It will be easy as slice of cake.”

“Good. Glad to see you’ve got confidence in yourself,” I said, looking longingly at an empty spot on the navigational map. Right on the edge of Wing territory. That’s where it was. Where it had been. I had never gotten used to not seeing it on my maps. It was like a hole in your favorite sweater.

One of Evo’s holo-screens was replaced with TACT’s fungal-like body, and the AI politely waited for Evo’s girlish scream to die off before addressing me. His mechanical voice echoed around the bridge, but I was too mesmerized by the returning bright red rash that had appeared on the pilot’s cheeks to commit my full attention.

“Sir. I Am Pleased To Inform You That The Long-Range Communications Have Been Fully Repaired. We Are Broadcasting Our Signal On Wing Channels And The College of Admirals Await Your Call. I Feel It Is Safe To Assume The Password Hasn’t Changed. I Recommend You Head To-”

“The navigation room. Yadda yadda, blah blah. Thanks, pal.” I dragged one hand over my face, feeling the smooth skin and rough stubble pass under it. “Twilight?” I turned to face the lavender mare, who was looking at me curiously. Although with her height, she might’ve just been looking at my butt. Creepy.

“Yes?”

“Think you could, er, not follow me for this one? It’s kind of private.” She nodded, and I smacked one of the wall panels on my way out of the bridge. No worries, those things were made to survive explosions. “TACT?”

“Yes Sir?”

“Prep a call for the College. It doesn’t matter what they’re up to; they could be in the middle of a warzone for all I care. And I don’t. They’ll answer me no matter what, because right now, I’m a ghost.”

“Yes Sir.”

I took a harsh right, and my shoulders just barely scraped past the door as it tried to open to match my pace. Within was the legendary holo-room. The epitome of recent high-end technology, some would say, but that’s a lie. We’ve had convoluted holograms for as long as I’d been alive. Didn’t stop everyone from being mesmerized by them. On one side of the wall was a simple control panel, fully equipped with a small holographic display which happily lent a rare 3D projection of TACT. The other half of the room was covered in a thick, black paneling that sported a grid of pinprick holes every centimeter. I couldn’t be bothered to know why we couldn’t just have a holo-table, but apparently people loved interactivity.

Tables are full of interactivity if you ask me.

I stopped, and listened as the door clicked into the locked position behind me. My boots had expertly stopped exactly one and a half inches away from the holo-floor. I practiced. TACT was smart, at least, and dimmed the overhead lights. It was all a bit dramatic, but it was an old, familiar feeling. I had done this exact bit of coordinated movements hundreds upon - well, I did it a lot. Sometimes in tighter situations than others, sometimes when I wanted to have a one-on-one session with another member of the Wing. Nobody could be everywhere at once, but with this thing, you didn’t have to be. I slicked back my hair and put on a professional smile.

“Channel Password, Sir?” TACT asked. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his glowing blue form jerk just a bit with each word. I nodded, coughed into the crook of my elbow.

“Holochat channel name, College of Admirals. Password... sodding windows,” I mumbled, lips pursing as the last ironic syllable left my mouth. Do. Not. Ask.

Ever.

“Holochat connected to ESS Homebound K-One-Nine-Six,” a classy, female voice said. A welcome break from TACT, who sounded like each word he said was the start of a new sentence. To be fair, I put more funds into making TACT work right instead of making him sound like a sultry woman. Pretty sure the voice had been put in by one of the Admirals just to annoy me, but I couldn’t pin which one it was.

Being allowed the password to the College of Admirals was a special thing. The Admirals were a social bunch, and they never let anyone forget it, but the magic really happened behind closed doors and secure holo-channels. The admirals, and even the leader if I was lucky, would appear in a half-circle in front of me, with their names and titles above their heads just for emphasis. The first name appeared, along with a verbal announcement, and my breath caught in my throat.

“Premier Admiral Aaro Castlor, connecting to College of Admirals channel.”

I felt like my chest was suddenly covered up in a warm embrace, and my businesslike smirk was suddenly replaced by a wide grin. A lanky, red-skinned form came into focus, the only change in the uniform being one extra star above the insignia, and some extra room for the bulky robot arm that took up most of the man’s left half. His handsome, simple face blinked at me with a blank expression for half a moment, and he held his hands behind his back like a teacher about to punish an unruly student. With a voice like a savior angel, he spoke.

“You’re late.”

“Well,” I started, resisting the urge to fall into a laughing fit, “I ran into traffic.” My voice faded, and I looked hesitantly at the other areas where the Admirals should’ve been. Sometimes it took them awhile to answer a call, I knew, but as soon as everyone got together it would be like someone flipped a switch. My eyes drifted back to Aaro, whose expression now mirrored my own. A second passed, and we burst into laughter together. It felt good, wheezing and gurgling like that. It was real, tangible.

“God’s sake, Amber,” the draxian managed to say between dying chuckles, his good hand running through his sleek black hair, “will you stop playing dead on every mission? It was funny the first couple of times, but now it’s just bothersome.” I crossed my arms, smirking.

“Hey, some things can’t be helped.” I rolled my eyes, deciding not to shrug. “Oh, it was a blast, though. Not literally. But man, it’s good to see you again, you glorious sod. You even kept the password-”

“Admiral Ganymede, connecting to College of Admirals channel.”

“Will you stop faking your own death already? Aaro’s already trying to push a new law that bars you from commanding suicide missions,” the smiling man said even as he fizzled into view alongside the other admiral’s right side. Aaro took a glance to his left and pointed at something out of my view.

“So what’s up with you guys, then?” I asked, the smile feeling like it was about ready to break my face in half.

“I’m checking up on the Talon Fleet,” Aaro said automatically, turning to face me as if nothing had happened. “Apparently, Captain York was having some trouble organizing. Right now the fleet is heading for Gantoris. You?”

“Heading to Omega. Most of our power and fuel is gone... uh, I’ll explain more once everyone gets here. Mede?”

“Ah,” the man said, arching his back in a stretch. “Uh, well I certainly wasn’t taking a nap or anything. Hm. I’m on Gantoris, just overseeing some stuff with Clover. Paperwork,” he said, image fizzling just enough to make me second-guess whether or not he had rolled his eyes.

“Fun,” I grunted, crossing my arms and winking at a still distracted Aaro.

“Admirals Patrick Fenway and San Uske, connecting to College of Admirals channel.” Two more figures fizzled into view; one with a mask covering his face and his uniform barely tossed on, and the other with a shaved head and suit of armor, sans the helmet. Patrick, the the former; San, the latter. They stood on Ganymede’s left.

“Christ. You plan on waking me up any other time of the day?” Patrick groaned. San chuckled, and reached for something out of my view. An armored hand came in from the side and slapped Patrick in the gut. The masked Admiral lurched forward, his eyes probably bulging. San just chuckled, and seemed to lean into a wall mid-air. Things were passing too fast. I really wanted to savor the moment, but business would have to commence soon.

“Glad to see the hero got out alive,” San said without a trace of sarcasm in his voice. “And ignore Paddy over there. He’s just grumpy because he had to wake up a bit earlier, right? Hahah- sorry. It’s like, four AM here. We’re on Parinin, actually. Just hanging out. Partying. Paddy here got drunk - I flew a plane.”

“An ‘e frigg’n crashed it right into a bloody mountain.... Lucky we had VALKs...” Patrick hissed, holding his gut in one hand and his head in the other. “Can’t we just take a break in peace. Without blowing up? I hate blowing up. Gotta hangover.”

“Oh hush. It’s not like we died,” San said between mirthful chuckles. Their holograms fizzled.

“Two more, maybe mister Clover,” Aaro said an almost sing-song voice, smiling. “I can’t wait to hear what awe-inspiring story you have for us, Amber.”

“Admirals Zalthice and Grezz, connecting to College of Admirals channel,” the sultry voice droned out. The far right of Aaro was suddenly replaced by the two massive, hulking and demonic forms the only orglockian admirals to have ever existed. The only difference was that Zalthice was smaller - thinner, and from what I’d seen, more agile. He always claimed it was because of some lab accident involving a crazy madman and some awkward DNA splicing. Never went into details, but at least he could fit into an actual formal uniform. Any other orglockian just had to wear armor and that was as formal as it got. Not like they needed any extra armor on their plated bodies. They weren’t called the demons of the battlefield without reason.

“Hey, you two. Glad to see you could make it,” I said, smiling like a fox.

“We were a bit busy, but sure! Always time for our extra duties in the Wing, right?” Zalthice said. Grezz just nodded.

“Alright,” I muttered, licking my lips. “No Clover? That’s alright. TACT, record this and give it to him as an audio-log later. Ready? Good. I’m gonna be blunt.” Castlor raised an eyebrow.

The world took a breath.

“I found Earth.”

Exhale. Silence.

“You sure?” Aaro asked, looking a bit too much like he was wondering what I’d look like in a straight jacket. It was like all the admirals had their eyebrows tied to one controller, because each and every one of them was suddenly watching me like a hawk. Except Patrick, but I could assume as much.

“It has to be. TACT was running constant tests and comparisons the entire time. Each one came up with the same answer. Logically, it has to be Earth,” I said, lowering my crossed arms and surrendering to the businesslike tone and facial expression that I was known for. For a moment, it felt like the world was spinning and my eyes weren’t going with the flow. Like I was falling, but standing still. This was the moment. The big news.

“Well...” Aaro said, looking at the ground in disbelief. One hand clutched at his forehead. “I really don’t know what-”

“Awww yeah!” San clapped his hands, looking like he was about to jump out of his armor. “Woo! I can see it now: Galactic news, the Wing first to find Earth in thousands of years. Secrets to the universe unlocked! Brilliant!” He leaned over, clapping a hand on Patrick’s shoulder. The companion to the excitable admiral didn’t seem at all phased, or that he cared even a little bit.

“Finding Earth is... remarkable. Big. I find myself distanced from the ancient humans, but I can assure you, this huge news will definitely go down in the orglockian history books,” Grezz said under his helmet, his voice sounding like it was a mile off in a distant cavern. The colors of each person were muted because of the holo-screen limitations, but I could still see the sparkle behind the helmet’s eyepieces.

“Well! What did you find, then? Lost, ancient cities? Hundreds of derelict ships waiting to be plundered and reverse-engineered? Evidence as to what exactly caused humanity to fall?” Either Ganymede or San asked. I couldn’t tell - I was too busy looking at Aaro’s far-off expression. “Oh well of course you found that stuff! It’s freak’n Earth!”

“With their technology, systems will eagerly give up their previous ownership in order to be entered into the Wing. We’ll become a galactic superpower again. In only months,” Aaro muttered, his eyes looking through me. “Did you find it all? Everything we ever dreamed would be there?”

“No,” I said

An invisible glass pane above us all shattered. Every smile turned into a harsh glare. One word radiated off of the admirals, their eyes boring it into me with each passing nanosecond. Aaro’s mouth opened just slightly, but instead of speaking, he just closed it again, automatically wetting his lips and shaking his head ever so slightly. To my surprise, it was finally Patrick that said it.

“Explain.”

“It’s a long story.”

“We have time,” Ganymede said, sighing into the palm of his hand.

“Well, it started when we went through the anomaly,” I began, mentally building a shield against the glares that dug into me. “All our systems overloaded. Shields, life support, and long-range communications were brought down instantly. It took us almost a full minute to get everything back in working order. I... from there, TACT did a system-wide scan. Came up with all the planets we know that Sol had orbiting it, each in their right order. The stars... they were in different places, and when TACT did a comparison, he came up with the spot where we know Sol should’ve been. Where we sent our own couple of research ships to aid in the galactic community project that is finding Earth. But there weren’t any ship beacons. We flew closer to the planets, giving a few a visual comparisons to what we already knew from the celestial bodies around Sol. It was right on the mark. Then we went to Earth.”

“Exciting,” Zalthice said.

“Yea, it was,” I muttered, looking at the admiral through the corner of my eyes. “When we got there... well, it didn’t look like Earth. There were none of the massive derelict fleets orbiting it, let alone any within the anomaly itself, and at first glance, there were none of the massive cities that were supposed to be covering the entire surface of the planet. They should’ve been visible from space. But when we did extensive scans... well, we found cities alright. And towns. And villages. Roads, mills, valleys, farms. It had people on it.”

“And?” Aaro urged, practically falling on his face he was leaning over so much.

“We did more extensive scans. Found out the differences in architecture and the like. We figured it wasn’t a unified planet; there were lots of countries and nations on it, all with their own leaders and capital cities. We chose one that looked right, to us, and I gathered up Art and two cadets to commence a first-contact mission.”

“Wait, wait. You commenced a contact mission without following the protocol? On such a vital mission? What the hell is wrong with you?!” Patrick yelled, getting another elbow in the gut from San. “Urrg. We know you like dodging around protocol and doing whatever the hell you want, but that... uhg!”

“Admiral, while I agree with you, we didn’t have the fuel or power to stay there for the several weeks that required us to follow general protocol for these missions. If we did, I wouldn’t be talking to you now. It was a... pivotal decision, yes, but guess what? It worked out. We spotted what looked like the nation’s capital city, and we landed. They had come out to meet us before we even exited the dropship.”

“One more step for the history books?” Aaro asked. San and Ganymede chuckled mirthlessly.

“Yea.... The people - at least these ones. They’re not human. They’re not even humanoid. I don’t think they came from humans like we all did. I think... I don’t know what to think. I still can’t get past it...” I hung my head in one of my hands, taking a deep breath. “They’re equine. Ponies.”

“Pfffft.” San contained himself, bits of holographic spittle flying from his mouth. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Uh, they had three races. Unicorns, pegasuses- er, pegasi, and earth ponies, which I think were named in relation to the ground, not the planet. Um, but their leaders were sort of a... combination of all three. Wings and a horn. Oh, and all the ones with horns have exceptional psychic capabilities. They refer to it as magic.”

“Waaaitwaitwait. Are you sure you didn’t find something else, and they just drugged you up to think what you’re thinking? Mythical, extinct horses? I was seriously starting to believe you before you brought those up,” Ganymede said. The others nodded in agreement.

“I know, and I think there’s something huge I missed. I tried bringing up the subject of... humanity, and what they were doing on Earth, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Anyways. I talked to their leader - lovely female by the name and, uh, title of Princess Celestia. Apparently the populace believes she’s the controller of their sun.”

“Heh.”

“Oh, yea. The system is geocentric.”

“It’s not Earth,” Patrick said, not missing a beat. “Absolutely no possible way. And it can’t be geocentric, either. Captain, as much as we’re friends, ‘ya just went bloody insane and I hereby put a vote up to relieve you of your rank and position.”

“Vote denied, Admiral. We’ve been through some insane stuff in the past. Just because something a bit weirder comes up doesn’t mean it isn’t true. Remember Nathan - or the Nexus Incident?” Aaro chided, looking to the masked admiral.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep going then, Amber.” He groaned, rubbing his face and giving me a death-stare from behind his fingers.

“Ahem. Yeah. You’ll have to see it for yourself, really. Anyways. I talked to her, and she said she’d love to ally herself and Earth to the Wing. We’re free to start sending ships to set up bases and the like, as long as we don’t destroy any of the environment in any way; I personally recommend starting with space defenses. But...”

“Always a but,” Grezz hissed.

“It won’t be permanent until she feels she trusts us enough, or something. I don’t blame her for mistrusting us, even if she was pretty quick to let us go. Anyways, she gave up seven of her subjects to be ambassadors for Equestria - that’s the country - and that I would take them on a tour of Wing space. If they liked it, she’d make it permanent and probably would let us mine a little bit. I swear, gold is the second most common mineral on that freak’n planet... erm, anyways. Right now I’ve got six ponies and a small talking lizard on my ship, and they’re expecting a vacation. TACT?”

“Yes Sir?”

“Please send the detailed reports Art wrote up to each of the Admirals and Clover. And also send the recorded conversation to him, please.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Leader Dylan Clover, connecting to College of Admirals channel.”

“Sending the conversation... won’t be necessary, TACT,” a smooth, even voice said. Each of the admirals and I snapped into a salute, our heels clicking together as one. A tall, wiry man stepped into his place at Aaro’s right. “I’ve been listening in on it - sorry, Mede.”

“No apologies needed, Clover.”

“Hmph. I do believe you, Amber, but I know I’m going to have to see your companions for myself before I can confirm anything. I... heh, well you did break a lot of protocol in accepting a few of them as ambassadors. I’m looking at the report Art wrote up. It has their dossiers. What kind of name is Rainbow Dash?”

“What kind of name is Clover?” I asked.

“Touche. I like the looks of this; just make sure they do too. If we secure Earth, we’ll become one of the largest groups in the galaxy before you can even sneeze. We’ll also get a giant target painted on our heads. Not like it matters. We already do.”

“Sir?”

“I just woke up to some reports in from our spy in the Empirium. Certain... black and spiky ships have been raiding their trade routes. What’s more, I just managed to get some data from every source I have. It’s what I’ve feared, and worse.” I gulped. It was like seeing all of the horrible people you've ever met end up right on your doorstep.

“Are they going after us, Dylan?” Aaro asked, a notable tremor in his voice. His eyes searched the spot where the leader no doubt stood on the Premier's own pedastel.

“Yes. Captain, I’m afraid your ambassador’s vacation might not be at the five-star hotel they think it’ll be. If these reports are correct, we already have a target on our heads, and worse, he’s managed to somehow recruit a rather large force...” he muttered something, and delicately closed his eyes. Even though we were all thousands to billions of lightyears away, the tension was still palpable. When I looked, I wasn’t the only one fiddling with the edges of their uniform or twiddling their thumbs. Dylan looked back up, and swallowed.

“Yes. E is back.”

(11) Ellipses

-Aboard the Homebound K-196

-Sixteen hours after leaving the anomaly.

-Navigation room.

-

Bear with me for a moment.

Imagine that you and one of your good friends just got done surviving a horrific trip to a hostile world, where it felt like even the plants had only one goal: to kill you, maim you, suck your spine out through your mouth, or slowly dissolve you into acid. Combine that with dodging a chaotic, insane group of enemy forces who wanted to do just the same and even worse. Then, finally, rescue comes in the form of the last dropship offworld.

Then imagine that you and your men, or at least the ones who survived, are just getting on that dropship, and you discover it was an ambush all along. Lo and behold, the masked enemy leader himself comes out to kill you and the men you’ve come to respect. There are no words spoken. No witty quips before death. You watch half your men die in front of you. Their blood pools beneath their bodies and out into the snow below them like a slowly spreading disease. You don’t have a choice; they make you watch. Then, while you’re shivering and holding onto your last bit of sanity, their leader comes up to you, puts a sword slick with their red life essence on your shoulder, and laughs.

That was E.

“Screw the ponies then,” I growled to the swirling holograms around me, “I’ll take my fleet right to him and turn him into dust.”

“I’ll follow. If he wants to even think about making a move on us, we need to stop him before he gets to take the first step. If we want him out of the picture once and for all, it’s gotta be now. Last time we let him go, he was gone for years,” Aaro said. A few of the other admirals nodded.

“Our fleets are outdated and we still could get him. We have power, even if he has numbers. If we can get some support from allies, we can get through it with only a couple losses. Easy as cutting a teryn’s throat,” Grezz added, shifting tiredly in his armor.

“No, no. You all do not understand. If I knew we could take him, I’d be ordering you all back to Gantoris for fleet coordination immediately. No, I’m not one hundred percent sure he’s after us, but we know he’s back, and we know he’s had a fascination with destroying us in the past. With the Empirium being so close to our borders now, we can also assume he’s either hiding out in LRA territory, or somewhere in the Neutral Zones. Anyways... that’s not the reason I don’t want us to go after him. Rumor has it, and I mean big, big rumor... they say he’s repaired a Derelict.”

“Bloody false rumors, I say. Everyone’s tried repairing the Derelicts since we started finding them. Nobody, and I mean nobody has ever managed to get one of the sodding things working for more than a second. They’ve only been good for reverse-engineering, I tell ‘ya,” Patrick huffed, crossing his arms in disbelief. “But on the off chance he does have a super-ship or something, I say we increase defenses. I’ll get the ‘ol spy network running again, restart the Intelligence Divi-”

“That won’t be necessary. Yes, we’re going on high-alert here, but if we start moving our ships around and the other factions notice, they’ll think we’re making a move on one of them. Our... alliance with the Empirium has only ever been sketchy. They’d jump at a chance to absorb us. As for the LRA, the only thing stopping them is our better technology. The Allied Systems don’t want to mess with us only out of respect. We don’t want to stir up trouble for ourselves, but I do want you all to come back to Gantoris. Admiral Grezz, Zal, are you okay with that?” Clover asked, looking over to the mountainous figures.

“Our own intelligence, mostly - aheh, we might’ve borrowed from the Wing a bit - suggests that Sorlor was last seen in E’s higher ranks. If E trusts him, and if the Wing isn’t in their number-one spot on their hitlist, then my empire will be in grave danger. I must leave to my own capital to organize our defenses. The others in the galaxy consider us weak and won’t pay our ship movements any mind,” Grezz said. Zalthice nodded hurriedly, looking about at things out of my view.

“Right then. Everyone else is to meet back at Gantoris to discuss defense preparations as soon as they can. Until then, I have to go deliver the news to all of the planetary leaders and... well, politics. Wish me luck, my friends.” The leader of the Wing sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and walked out of view. We each gave our respective salutes and nods, and we each had our heads too muddled with fear to notice Patrick had gone as well. There was no message from the sultry lady, at least.

“Hmph. I think Paddy went off to bed to sleep the alcohol off. Ah... I’m tired too,” San said, a soft tinkling noise coming from where he was tapping his side with his armored fingertips. “Hm. Jackson? You think if we’re not off Parinin by the time you fly in the neighborhood, we could hitch a ride in the Homebound? I really want to these those pony-things of yours. They sound adorable.”

“Yea, adorable. Don’t worry. If I fly by the Aedinia system, I’ll send down a cadet and the Fate. You’re banned from flying it into the hangar, though,” I said, looking behind me to the door. I suddenly felt a lot more antsy about being as far out as Omega. The belt of rocks acted as a natural defense against larger warships, but that only meant it was twice as hard to get out if you had to make a quick exit. I wanted someplace safe, for once. Gantoris was the only option.

“I’m not that bad at landing things. I’m just better at flying them,” San huffed, yawning a second afterward. Next to him, Ganymede mirrored his actions. Zalthice and Grezz had gone. “I’m gonna get some bed. Or... ah fugghetit,” San mumbled, his hologram giving one last weak fizzle before fading into the air. Now Ganymede was gone as well.

“Any words before hell starts up again?” I asked, smiling faintly at Aaro. He returned the gesture, and put both hands on his hips. Our grins slowly grew into the age-old facial expression that only true old friends will ever realize. Old friends who’ve fought together; survived together.

“I’m just as good as your are with the one-liners, Jackson,” Aaro turned to leave, stopping just as one half of him was fizzling out into nothingness, so close to leaving me alone, a million billion miles from anyone else. “That is to say,” he said with a smirk, “bad.”

And then he was gone. The lights returned to normal, momentarily blinding me. The air lost its tension, and my fingers suddenly decided it was a good time to tap my side like a crazed spider. I took a deep breath, and turned for the door. TACT’s 3D image dissipated, and the door unlocked itself in front of me. Suddenly, rainbows.

Or really, Rainbow Dash, but when you have a metaphorical gun to your head you tend not to care about things like names.

“Oh! Captain - I, uh. We! I mean, we weren’t eavesdropping!” Twilight cried from behind the pegasus. The latter floating in the middle of the corridor like an angry wasp. At least this wasp didn’t have a stinger. Just a silly hair color.

“Who’s E, and why did you guys sound so angry when he was mentioned?!”

“Rainbow!” Twilight hissed, looking over her shoulder. Evo and Applejack were peeking out of the bright room beyond. What, where these doors made of paper or something? Why did we have them in the first place?

“Oooh, and the whole ‘screw the ponies, I need to go fight bad guys’ thing was totally un-awesome, Captain. What’s got your tail in a bunch over him? His name is E, can’t be any worse than O, right?” She flung her arms about in a wild, mystical motion. “Or, ooh, better watch out for Q and his eeeevvillll magic powers!” Dash scoffed, folding her hooves and rolling her eyes. She glared at me behind stupid, arrogant eyes, and I had to resist returning it.

I took a deep breath, feeling the tips of my nails digging into the palms of my hands, and each was like a sword to an open neck. I was getting very close to thinking about the consequences of smashing her against the window so hard it’d break. Granted, those things were designed to take direct hits from heavy weapons, but it would be worth it. So worth it.

“So you were just going to abandon us? That’s what you wanted, right? Just to... leave us, when you said you... uhg! I didn’t come with you guys just to worry about getting stranded in space!” Rainbow huffed, and with a mysterious rainbow-colored blur, was gone. My anger faded as all the energy was stuffed into the part of my brain that tried to keep me sane. Yup. That was definitely a rainbow contrail floating and now disappearing mid-air. In my ship. According to what I knew, she had just broken the speed of light. While technically going faster than the speed of light. That stupid little twerp had actually broken my sense of perception. Why, when I got my hands on her I’d...

My right eye twitched. “Uh,” I started.

“Oh no, nononono. Captain, I’m so sorry about Rainbow. I started listening, and then she came... and I think she’s worked up over not having any space to fly in - I’m so, so sorry,” Twilighted sputtered, rushing over to me while I happily stared blankly at the nearest wall, fists still clenched. She looked up at me like I was about to explode - in rage, or perhaps literally.

“It’s alright. And f-... for the record.” I swallowed, feeling light-headed as the heat left my face. “We call him E because his full name starts with it, and nobody can pronounce anything after it. S’only fitting... I. He’s a bad guy.... Equestria has bad guys, right? People - or ponies, who just want to make the lives o-of everyone else miserable, right?” I asked, looking down at her with a forced vacant expression. No. I couldn’t show how much rage was brought up even by mentioning the name, let alone mocking it.

“Yes, we do. Is E like that?”

I sighed, and looked over at the swirling masses beyond the window in front of me. “No. He is worse. So much worse.”

“How much worse? If-”

“My job,” I interrupted, staring straight down at her, “is to stop people like him. On the comment Rainbow made about abandoning, that is. I’m volunteering to show you girls the galaxy, and with E around, it’s preventing me from doing the job I’ve done for long over a decade. I’ll live with it, but... you can understand it’s aggravating.” I paused, letting two more words slide through my teeth like the poison they were. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s... okay, Captain. I know Rainbow Dash isn’t the only pony with limits. Uh, not that you’re a pony, I mean,” she replied, smiling. I couldn’t help but feel the edges of my mouth perk up in response.

“TACT?” I asked suddenly, my voice finding itself again. I stomped over to a nearby wall panel. Twilight’s mouth hung open, and she glanced dejectedly at the ground. TACT appeared on the wall, and before his stupid little robot face could spurt another Yes-Sir, I gave an order. “TACT. Intercom on.”

“Intercom Is On, Sir.”

“Attention, crew members and ponies,” I said, listening as my voice resounded throughout the ship. “I’ve just got word from the Admirals. From here on out, we’re at High Alert. I’ll brief you more later, but be on your guard. Intercom off.” I nodded with the stiffness of a robot, and turned to head down the hall to the lower half of the ship.

“Our stay on Omega might be cut a little short, Twilight,” I said as I passed her, “and that’s just the half of it. Keep Rainbow from having any more outbursts, because I don’t want to have to punish her. I’m not supposed to be your parent.”

“Nor Would That Be Physically Possible, Sir,” TACT helpfully added.

~=V=~

My hands hadn’t stopped shaking. Whether it was against my side or in a pocket, they had to keep moving. If I stopped, I’d probably tear my nails out with my teeth just for something to occupy myself with. I tried to shove a piece of gum in my mouth and end it at that.

Didn’t stop my hands, though.

“Alright, Evo. This is it. Power’s been diverted from weapons, to engines and shields, and you’ve got TACT to auto-correct if it’s too much. You ready?” I asked, peering over the shoulder of our pilot and into the empty abyss beyond. The engines were already winding down into a slow hum, and I seemed to notice them so much more than when they were roaring in the background. As soon as my mind started thinking about them, it was as if the sound was broadcasted in the middle of my head, blaring and compressing down on me like a sonic weapon. Actually, I had been hit by sonic weapons before. Those were much more pleasant.

“Aha! We are... good to go,” Evo tittered nervously, his hands somehow sticking to the controls despite looking like he had dunked them in a bowl of sweat. It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. In fact, he could’ve already lost control and flown us straight into the nearest asteroid. Or a mine. To my recollection, there were hundreds upon thousands of the things hidden around the field. They had been set up during a war - nevermind which - and nobody had thought to take them down. They acted as a deterrent to any potential pirates or sneaky thieves, and were so old that it seemed everyone but us had forgotten about them.

Life on Omega was a lonely one, I heard.

“Alright everyone. Prepare to get a bit dizzy,” I warned, instinctively holding onto the back of Evo’s chair, as if doing so would lend him my own inner strength. I looked around and consumed the entire bridge with one sweep of the head. Each member of the crew was steadily watching their respective screens; each honed in on spotting errors. The ambassadors, however, were staring happily out of the bridge window, merrily oblivious to what was going to happen next.

The world, or at least mine, suddenly turned upside down. The thin, cylindrical shape of Starbase Omega was hiding between the asteroids like meaning in a philosophical textbook, its various arms and extending hangars and observatories making it look like it was nothing more than a nail somebody flattened too hard with a hammer. It, and the myriad of floating hunks of rock, spun so much that I was suddenly thankful I had gotten used to the flipping and flopping of space. It was a world where there was no up or down: only whichever way you were going and whatever was in front of you, behind you, or shooting at you.

It was then that I realized I hadn’t even noticed when we had arrived. It wasn’t as if Omega, the rocks, and the far off sun flickering in the background had slowly faded into being. No. They were not, and then they were. Such was space travel, where not paying attention for half a second could mean flying straight into a star.

“And this, little ambassadors,” I bellowed into the rumbling of the engines, my gaze flicking back to the ponies and their little lizard pet. Rainbow still didn’t look happy, but at least she didn’t look like she wanted to strangle the nearest living being. Maybe she was too focused, like the others in her party, on not losing her lunch and the rest of their innards. I didn’t blame them, really. The complicated maneuvers that made up the Omega Run, the only way for Wing-designed - and only Wing-designed ships - could make it to Starbase Omega, wasn’t feared by new pilots just because it had an intimidating name. They got it easy, compared to me. The ESS Legacy had been stationed at Starbase Omega for months, and during that time I had made the Omega Run countless times. In an outdated fighter craft. So they could just suck on that treat while I polished my medals for all I cared. Nobody got anywhere by whining like some of the cadets did. At least Evo wasn’t whining. Then again, he was sweating and shivering like he was going to crash us any moment.

“Bad,” Evo hissed, and everyone’s heads jerks to stare outside. Four people groaned in tandem at the whiplash.

Crunch.

“Bollocks,” I muttered, releasing my grip from Evo’s chair to peer at one of the walls. As if he had known what I was going to ask, TACT appeared on it, staring at me from across the bridge with hawk-like intelligence.

“Sir, An Asteroid Has Collided With The Ship. Shields Are Holding.”

“Whatever. Keep going, Evo. You’re doing better than lots of people. Granted, they’re buried somewhere in a memorial right now, but good job anyways,” I said, patting Evo’s shoulder. The accented pilot jerked it away like my fingers were poisoned stingers, and I rolled my eyes.

“TACT, think you can call up the facility for me? Just gotta make some last minute preparations. They know we have the ponies on board, right?”

“I contacted Lt. Willum earlier, Captain,” Aran said from her own terminal. Communications, if I remembered correctly. “He’s fully aware of the situation and said he’d whip the crew into shape. There’s plenty of room aboard the station for all of us, and he said he could spare a few men to restock the Homebound’s cargo with what they have on hand. Bringing him up for you now, Captain.”

“I Have Full Capacity To Call The Station Myself, Cadet Aran. V-error,” TACT’s voice droned out, infecting my ears just like the veritable roar of the engines.

“It’s V!los, hun,” the teryn said. I could’ve sworn she rolled her eyes at the screen. Nevertheless, a rough, warm voice replaced TACT’s only a moment later, drowning out the engines like a sea of daffodils. I turned my eyes away from the swirling mess of nauseating images coming from outside the ship, and tried to look anywhere else.

“Hey! Oh man, Amber! We only just got the news an hour ago. To believe anyone actually thought you were dead! Oh man, haha, it’s-”

“That’s sodding brilliant, kiddo,” I said, taking a quick gulp of air and casting a nervous glance towards Twilight and her friends. “Listen, I guess Aran already passed out the list of stuff I needed prepared before we got here. Did you get everything done?”

“Oh you bet, Captain. Got a few of the seats modified already, and we’ll have a couple bits of gear ready for your - eheh - little pony pals once we get a chance to measure them. Aran gave me some numbers, but I think it requires more of a personal touch, yanno? Why, did you have something else you needed?”

“One thing, really. Do you have any audio recorders? I’d like you to get me one. Missions like this, they require a bit of a, how did you say it, personal touch.” I stared numbly at the ground for a second, counting the seconds until the godlike voice decided to spread its horrible, excited tone across my eardrums again. It sounded too much like Pinkie Pie.

“Hm. Looks like we do. I can get right on that and it’ll be waiting for you in your personal quarters when you arrive. I guess you’ll be using your dropship?”

“Correct. We could use some help transporting my crew and the ponies, though. We only have room for half, so it would be nice if you launched your own dropship to pick them up. I’ll be taking cadets Aran, Evo, and Lilian. Disconnecting.”

“Goodb-”

“Thank you, Aran,” I muttered, ignoring the stares piercing into my skull as I walked around the pilot’s area and down into where the Navigation terminal was, next to Aran. “Anyways. All crew members, I’ve got an announcement. By now, your ex-crewmates back on Equestria already know, but because of your bravery in volunteering for this mission and keeping your cool even in the most... unusual of circumstances. Ahem. Right. Because of those things, and because you’re all on my good side, I’m promoting you. Ensigns, congrats, you’re now official officers in the Wing, and are now under my command until the Admirals decide you aren’t. Each of you better get very comfortable being around each other in this ship, because you’re all going to be spending a lot of time in this company. You’ll get your gold stars and there’ll be a ceremony on Gantoris later. Until then, you’re still Ensigns, but it’s business as usual. Let’s move out,” I said, casually managing my voice tone and pitch to sound like the bravest, manliest of leaders. Right as the echo of my newest order died out, the childish cheering and congratulations started up on cue. I ignored it, though. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t smile at it.

It sounded too much like the writing of an obituary.

~=V=~

“So,” I started, gazing with dead eyes out of the dropship window. It was amazing how awkward long, silent trips in a cramped room full of beings you didn’t really like could be, especially if your pilot was a medical officer, and you had ordered both your other completely qualified pilots to sit across from you because you liked the way they smelled.

That wasn’t completely true. I had a reason for it, and I had spent the entire trip to Omega’s hangar bay thinking of how I’d finally spurt it out. At least all Wing members were required to have a pilot’s license and at least a few hours of piloting experience, even if every other year we recruited some lucky fool who happened to do a few neat tricks in front of an officer. There were no such lucky fools anymore; the latter half of their title always caught up to them.

“You two are... related?” I raised an eyebrow, mentally running Evo and Lilian through a visual scanner. They were both pretty scrawny, had brown hair, and seemed to have the same eye color, but the real giveaway was their faces. Almost identical if you compared them while they were next to each other. How, then, did one end up on an Academy on Gantoris and the other on Siraconore, the Wing’s greatest military stronghold? They looked at me with narrowed eyes, and for once, I didn’t care how the girls next to me thought of my straightforwardness.

“Da,” Evo said, blinking as if that explained everything in the universe. Good show.

“Siblings actually. Uh...” Lilian muttered something, licked her lips, and gazed right into my eyes, “and we were separated at birth. My mother took me to Gantoris during the first Galactic War. I guess you remember it was a safe haven during that time, Cap’n. Evo and my dad stayed on Siralifore to keep running the business. When it was attacked, they evacuated to ‘Conore. We lost contact, I guess, so I grew up on the planet of politics, and he grew up on the planet of war machines. You wouldn’t remember most of that, though. From what I remember from Wing history back at the Academy, you were on the front lines.

“I remember,” I muttered, feeling the reflected visions of a thousand mistakes pass behind my eyes, “I wasn’t anywhere near the Sirius system when it fell under attack. I think... gosh, that was near the end of the war, wasn’t it?” I supplied a plastic, half smirk, and my eyes fluttered back to the ambassadors. All but one of them was engrossed in conversation, and she stared out at me from behind her long pink mane with an almost uncharacteristic curiosity. “Yea. I was swimming neck-deep in demons around then. But who wasn’t?”

“Um, excuse me, Captain Amber?” a diminutive voice asked from next to Lilian. Without even bothering to look at her to check if I was correct about her identity, I supplied an answer.

“Yes, Fluttershy?” I looked at her, my smirk shrinking into a smile equal to her courage. Don’t say I’m not a good actor. I mastered the art long ago, back when it was completely necessary and lying through your teeth was second nature to everyone and their dog. It’s a shame they didn’t let us take our own shotguns to the political meetings. Shooting a stupid politician and chuckling as they VALK back to their homeworld never really got old.

“Please forgive me for, uh, eavesdropping, but you two never knew each other growing up?” Fluttershy leaned forward, looking at Evo and Lilian with an adorable face of fear, pity, and something else I couldn’t identify but still sparked something deep down in my brain. Love, or something. Maybe I was just seeing things. “That’s just awful.”

Evo snorted, and Lilian let loose a throaty chuckle. “Heh. Wasn’t so bad, I guess. The galaxy is a pretty mean place when it wants to be, and splitting us up wasn’t even the worst I’ve seen. Take the front lines of that very war, for example. Jackson said he was swimming in demons at the time, but he really meant swimming in demon bod-”

“Thhhat is quite enough, ensign,” I barked, not even bothering to conceal my anger at her slip of the tongue. Was it a slip if she didn’t know it was? Whatever, I still marked getting her back for that later. I’d have to brief the crew - if not the whole Wing - on why we couldn’t go saying things like, ‘Oh, Jackson massacred enemy forces without mercy back in his glory days!’ and the like. It would be bad for business.

It was untrue, anyways. I had plenty of mercy, no matter what the history books tell you. In fact, I deserved an honorable mention for being the man with the most mercy during the Galactic Wars. I’m a freaking hero, no matter what they say.

Fate decided to take hold of that moment, and the back ramp unceremoniously folded downwards. Outside, blending in perfectly with the bleak grey surroundings, were the Wing officers that had lined up, offering crisp salutes and looks of unadulterated awe directed at the ponies. Willum, standing off to the side with a proud grin on his face, was the only one looking at me. Like a toddler waiting for his teacher to give him a golden sticker for finishing his fifty-page coloring book.

I decided it would be in everyone’s - mostly mine - best interest to ignore him for the time being. Hopefully he wouldn’t get too attached to Pinkie Pie. I wasn’t particularly knowledgeable on Willum, but all I’d ever seen of him was equal to someone draining the will to live out of several planet’s worth of people, and then dumping it all into one person. Or thing, really. Maybe he was a robot.

Life would be so much easier if everyone you didn’t like was a robot.

The inside of Omega was, for lack of a better term, a good mix between roomy and bashing your head on the ceiling every time you stood up. At least the, quote, “cozier” areas were below the general living quarters, where scientists and engineers slaved away to do all the secret things that every other system had banned from being practiced on their planet. It would be safe to say that most of our highly advanced technology came from the Starbase, but most of the time it wasn’t. Even the gargantuan success, if you could call it one, of weapons such as the Void Technology hadn’t been developed there; I’d actually taken a personal interest in that iconic invention, and I would’ve claimed it as my own if Aaro hadn’t gotten his slimy red hands on the rights to it first. Jerk hadn’t even given me the time of day - granted, we both ran competing technology companies, but I was the original. You can’t copy good guns, even if they sometimes exploded.

Right. Barring unprecedented inner rants on my complicated relationship with every other living being in the galaxy, Omega really didn’t have anything to offer. It had actually been pretty inactive recently, come to think of it. Why did we even continue using it?

“Whoa. This place is huge!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, immediately flying up to the ceiling of the hangar - forty meters above my head. I had filed out of the dropship with the rest of the crew, Aran conversing silently with an officer who looked like he did more work than Willum could ever dream of, and every pony who couldn’t fly and Fluttershy were looking around in absolute raw wonder. Rainbow did a few showy tricks above the amazed heads of the rest of the Omega crew, and I felt a small smile sneak in on either side of my lips. It wasn’t because I was happy for the flamboyant winged marshmallow horse that was blindly doing loop-the-loops around a small airtight station over a billion kilometers from her own planet, or even because I just enjoyed watching things fly. In fact, I think most of that sudden joy was because I wouldn’t have her be so aggravated all the time. I suppose I could relate, being a fighter pilot for most of my earlier years, but things like happy rainbow ponies lost their interesting characteristics as soon as you met one. I learned that from pure, untainted experience, ladies and gentlemen. And by experience, I meant what I was witnessing just then.

In short, while everyone was feeling something, I felt nothing.

Hollow.

I sighed, and turned to face Willum. Twilight and her friends had already begun their conversations with the crew, and I listened in as I inched my way towards the inevitable meeting with the overly-groomed, pampered party-officer standing ten meters away, standing in stark contrast to the frizzled, excited party-mare in the other direction. Willum it was.

“So how long have you lived here? IIIII lived on farm once! Well, actually I grew up on a farm! But that counts as living on one, right?”

Definitely Willum. Rest in peace, whoever Pinkie had set her “annoy” targeting system on. Judging by how their faces looked when I dared a glance back, she had a shotgun of annoyances with a very wide spread rate. Then, suddenly, a lavender magical protege and a white dressmaker were at my side, seemingly to escape Pinkie’s wrath. I didn’t blame them, and suddenly Willum was no longer ten meters away. More like a hundred. I slowed my pace to match.

“Well, you weren’t kidding when you said it was big,” Twilight said, eyes scanning the walls like they had x-rays built in. “But this... wow. How do you manage to build something like this?”

“Very carefully.” I smiled, trying to follow her gaze and line of thought. I had been thinking the same thing back when I first visited it - the original Omega - and the station hadn’t lost its charm on me yet. It would always be a home to me. “But actually, compared to a lot of the things we’ve built, Starbase Omega is pretty small. You haven’t see ‘big’ ‘til you’ve seen the Tolos Station.”

“I don’t think I could imagine anything bigger,” Twilight whispered in an impressed tone. I turned to smile at Rarity, who only huffed.

“While I won’t make any comments on its obvious grandeur, don’t you think it’s a little bit grey? Dull? Lifeless? The spartan look can be good, but there comes a time when you need a bit of pizazz! Sparkles!” She moved a hoof in a grand encompassing motion, deliberately drawing my attention back to the empty walls.

“I’m not making my ships sparkly, miss Rarity, but I get your point. The other parts of the station are a bit more, ah, colorful, rest assured. Not that it was a design choice, it was just a colorful way for making the power dispersion system more efficient. As long as you’re not sowing rainbow-capes into my uniform, you’re free to make any criticisms you’d like. Get what I’m getting?” I raised my eyebrows, the ghostly smile returning once again to my lips. She returned it with a look of understanding.

“Well, I suppose the grey is at least easy on the eyes. Heavens forbid it would be yellow, or some ghastly bright red!”

“Right. Any questions, miss Sparkle?”

“Oh, right! If this is for long-term living, how does it get the resources it needs to keep running?” The purple unicorn asked, looking up at the dim lights hanging from the ceiling so high up.

“Excellent question, actually. Most of the food is synthesized, all the air is processed, recycled, or generated by the vast gardens belowdecks. All the power comes from either solar energy, or is taken from the nearby asteroids. Most of them have valuable metals that can be converted into fuel, and therefore power, etcetera. It’s not entirely self-sufficient, though, and they need cargo ships to come by about... twice, every year. The crew rotates out so they’re not all bored out of their skulls. And so on and so on. As for Omega itself, it’s mostly for research purposes and the like. Also acts as a communications relay, too. It’s the reason we found Equestria within the anomaly, you know,” I rattled off, summing all the knowledge I had on the place in one go.

“How fascinating. You think we could get a tour of the science labs? After dinner, maybe?” Twilight asked.

“Oooh! No thank you,” Rarity exclaimed. We gazed at her for a full five seconds before she continued, as if she was just making sure all our attention was only on her. “As much as I’d love to bore myself with scientific details and the like, what I really need is a nice hot bath. I did, after all, pack a few of Aloe and Lotus’ miracle-working shampoos!”

“There’s baths, here,” I said dryly, looking over to the ever-closer Willum. “Mess hall, too. I think the fabricator can make some synthetic coffee, though I prefer fresh. Tea, too, but I’m not a big fan of that stuff.”

“It sounds positively delightful!”

“Yea, sure. Hey, Lieutenant!” I called, waving over the grinning statuesque man.

“Heya, Captain Amber! Listen, I just got word that dinner is ready, and they just finished prepping your room to your specifications. Recorder’s there, too. And - haha, sorry for listening in, but did you just say you’d like a tour, little lady? I can make sure the scientists are notified of that; I’m sure they won’t mind if I send down Ensign Burgs. They like him for some reason, bit beyond me, though!”

“Awesome. What’s for dinner?”

“Hm, regular rations, last I checked, but I guess I could make a few changes since we have guests! How’s a salad supreme sound? Haha, that’s right! I did my research!”

“Oh! That sounds sublime!” One of the mares at my side said in a fake sounding accent, nevermind which one.

“Yea, sublime. Think you could send it to my room? I’ve got to take care of something,” I muttered, scratching the back of my neck with one hand. Willum merely nodded, keeping his mouth shut for once, and I couldn’t help but feel my smile grow a bit wider. I turned to face my companions. “Right. Sorry, but I do have some things to take care of, so... uh, right. Heh. Hope you don’t mind me skipping out on lunch.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, Captain,” Twilight said. My smile suddenly turned to plastic, and I numbly spun on one heel towards the exit. The lights here seemed to pulse, pounding into my skull like a headache waiting to happen. The bright blue parts of the wall, shining and throbbing as energy coursed through them at the speed of light, seemed to taunt me, stretching each hallway into another corridor of never ending doorways and hanging lights. My body had already fallen into the automaton I had learned to control, directing itself to my designated quarters. My hand zipped up to my head, and pressed a button on my tiny headset, the rest of my body coming up on a door. I knew what was behind it.

“TACT? Are communications between the Homebound and my headset still working?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Think you can connect to the recorder when I get it? I’m going to need some semblance of an official mission report, you know, and I need to get it all out while it’s still fresh.” I took a look around the room as I drifted into it like a ghost. Simple blue-sheeted bed that looked like it had a water mattress under it. Mini-fridge off to the side, near what could only be a closed window, and in the middle of the room, facing the window, was a thin metal desk. On that desk, slapped on like a useless object, was the handheld audio recorder laying on its side. I smiled at the tiny grey object, and sat down hard in the wiry chair behind the desk. Looking out to the starred, infinite sky beyond, I picked up the recorder.

“Yes Sir.”

“Good. Try connecting now.”

“I Have Connected To The Device. It Is Online,” the recorder suddenly blurted out in TACT’s voice, the sly devil. I rolled it over in my hands, looking for any indication that it was recording.

“Ahem. TACT, are you sure this thing’s on?” I asked. On cue, one of the little lights started blinking as soon as I spoke. The familiar smile appeared again, and I leaned back in the flimsy chair. “Good, good. I’ve been meaning to get my hands on one of these stupid recorders since we got back into Wing space, in case things get worse than they already are.” I didn’t know why I was reiterating things I already knew, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to judge me for it later, right? The last words left my mouth, and I found myself brought back to E. It was as if I suddenly had him hanging over me, ready to crush and destroy everything I could accomplish with those ponies and Earth. The last thing I needed was to fight him and cater to the ambassadors at the same time. I took a deep breath, and glanced down at the ring on my finger.

“Now, first thing to note if you’ve found this message,” I said absentmindedly, barely paying attention to my wording. The silver ring glinted in the overhead lights, as if knowing what I was thinking. “Why, you ask, am I talking in your native language? Well, the short answer is magic, and you’ll learn why that is eventually. Second thing, what exactly is this recording for?”

I bit my lip, and my gaze slowly turned up to the infinity beyond the glass window. It felt like all the world had fallen onto my shoulders suddenly, but for some reason I didn’t feel tense, or worried. I thought, I supposed, that this recording and any others I made afterward would be nothing short of a therapeutic session, rather than a mission report. In fact, it wasn’t much of a mission report, was it? Something in the back of my head told me I wouldn’t be eating that dinner.

“Well, to that, I answer: It’s a story. My story....” I trailed off, gulping, and the wheels in my brain were brought back into overtime as I thought of a good place to start. Recordings like these meant I had to pay attention to detail and then remember them exactly. If there was anything I was good at, it was those two things. “Alright... give me a moment, my memory isn’t what is used to be, but it’s still better than you’re average schlub. Ah... yes, where to begin?” I suddenly thought of E, and the ponies, and everything I’d ever done. Maybe it was life flashing before my eyes, or maybe it was the turning point in something great.

“Call me Jackson,” I said, my grin turning into a smirk that could end a planet.

(I) Jonesy

(LOCATION: Canterlot, Equestria. Earth, Sol.
(OWNER: C. Q. Jones.
(TIMEFRAME: Error.
(BEGIN)

Initializing Process...

It was a volunteer mission. Hundreds had.

He wasn't one of them.

They had walked down the academy halls, peering at the names engraved on the dorm doors, looking down at their datapads every once in awhile, and always with their chins held high. The rest of the cadets had no idea what was going on, other than that one lucky student was going to be chosen for something. They gathered the cadets into the mess hall, made them sit down, and then they read a lengthy speech about honor, glory, and other things taken directly from their pile of stock speeches.

They never let their chins drop. By the time they got to their reason for being there, most of the cadets were either half asleep or angry their time was being wasted. His name was called, and it was announced he'd be joining eight of the best cadets in Wing space on a top secret mission. While the rest had volunteered and had been hand-picked by the Admirals, he was chosen randomly. As an example that no matter the circumstances, any cadet could handle himself, not just the ones with high grades. He would have half a year to train for it. He had his head shoved into a toilet in the women's bathroom after he left the hall.

He was Jones, apparently the best the Cadet Academy on Alteria-Cra had to offer.

He was also on almost mythical Terra, being catered to by a silly number of pony servants who, he thought, should be considered a biological weapon of adorableness. The other cadets at the academy could suck it. The only possible problem was that half of what the ponies ate were full of sugar, and the other half wasn't meat. When they'd gone to bed, they'd had a dessert cupcake, and when they'd woken up they'd had breakfast muffins; Jones honestly couldn't tell the difference in calorie or sugar count for either of them. That was why one of the first things Commander Boyo had ordered them to do, was laps around the gardens.

In the rain.

“OhGodthisisawful,” Jones sputtered in a poor attempt to exhale. His lower limbs, which resembled the very wires that filled the Homebound, flailed out from under him, and he still pushed himself to catch up with the hulking mass that was the other cadet. Yez, a perfect example of the wide-set, grey-skinned Irdan species, sent the smallest bits of mud scattering. Mainly into Jones’ face. “Howmanymorelaps?” he asked the towering brute next to him in another exasperated breath.

“One,” Yez grunted. The pencil-thin cadet looked his companion up and down, frowning when he realized his counterpart was only jogging. He would’ve shuddered, if he wasn’t already. Two? He could do two. He’d be a mushy bit of whimpering flesh by then, but he could do it.

“Cheer up, lad!” a boisterous voice behind him announced, another set of spinning limbs appearing next to him. These ones were red, and had a handsome, chiseled face hidden under a slick mass of hair that Jones felt would look just as handsome as the rest of the body if it were dry, combed, and styled. Somehow, this cadet’s uniform had dodged every pellet of mud and dirtied drop of rain. The wing and diamond symbol gleaming each time lightning flashed in the distance. Under it was an unfamiliar symbol, but it was one that Jones had come to recognize. The name was on the tip of his tongue. “I... hff, I don’t think we had time to introduce ourselves. I spent my time with Roland and Dylan during most of the training sessions. Name’s... hff, Maar’n Kell. Yours?”

Right, then. He was a Kell. Figures they’d buy one of their relatives a spot on an illustrious mission like this one. The Kell family insignia, which Maar’n bore on his uniform, was immaculate, and seemed to light up far brighter under the lightning strikes than the Wing pin did. It was anything but realistic, because on the inside, that family symbol was as scarred and twisted as the extended family that proudly wore it.

“C... Q... Jones....” He brought his hand up, moving some of the light brown hair from his eyes.

“Ha! That’s right! Can’t believe I forgot your name. I... hff, remember you. Hff. You were the one that the Admirals chose randomly. You think you’ll ever... hff, regret coming along? Ha! Hff, that was a rhetorical question, my friend. We’re on Earth. How could you regret that?” The Draxian laughed, effortlessly gliding along the mud spattered path.

“I am Cadet Yez N’ham. Pleasure to make second meeting with Kell. We met first during training,” the cadet to Jones’ left grunted, his voice obscured by the rain and thunder.

“Well met. You were our heavy weapons... expert, right?” Kell asked, leaning forward to see past Jones. The latter gladly obliged by slowing his pace.

“Indeed. You are sniper.”

“Pilot, actually. Melee expert off to the side, but melee doesn’t really matter in ship, hff, to ship combat.”

“I... aahh... incorrect!” Jones blurted out, memories of his long hours in the academy surfacing like a half forgotten dream. “There are plenty of... harrfff... scenarios where you’dhavetousemeleecombat... hff!”

“I s’pose you’re right, but it don’t matter now, does it?” laughed Maar’n, slapping a hand to Jones’ back. The young adult lurched, his muddied boots searching for purchase on the slick ground. “And what about you, Jonesy? We didn’t see much of you during training, always slinking in the back of the room. What’s your job?”

“Soldier,” Jones huffed out immediately.

“Hah. We’re all soldiers! No, hff, really... your job?”

“Just a grunt... I kill things,” Jones said, his voice dying down to a whisper.

~=V=~

“I really think walking around without even a sidearm is a bit, er, stupid. I mean, we do have our melee training, but how are we supposed to fight back against one of those unicorns if they go psychic on us? Err, sir.” Maar’n said, hit boots sounding akin to the pitter pattering of the rain outside.

“We agreed to it. And it’s not psychic, here. It’s magic,” Commander Boyo corrected, several steps in front of the line of cadets.

“No offense, sir, but I’m calling it what I was taught to call it. I could care less what the ponies say it is, because magic doesn’t exist. You’re really going to let a civilization that hasn’t even discovered how to split the atom dictate how we do things? This isn’t even their planet-” Maar’n head jerked back, Boyo’s furious face suddenly inches from his own. The commander’s nose scrunched up, and he jabbed a pointed finger in the draxian’s chest. Maar’n was almost a foot taller than his superior, and he melted under the weight of that finger; Boyo was a thousand meters tall. His voice echoed around the empty Canterlotian halls like so many nails being driven into an iron coffin.

“Don’t you ever even whisper those words again or so help me I’ll give you a dishonorable discharge and leave you stranded straight in Empirium space. You got that, cadet? I’m like Jackson, and I accept it when a lower rank is trying to be helpful, but I will never, EVER tolerate one of the men under my command telling me what to do. When lunch is done, you’re dismissed to your room, and I don’t want to see you tomorrow.” His growling voice faded, and thunder sounded off in the distance.

“I- y-y-yes sir,” Maar’n stammered, eyes widening with each inch he backed up. He stopped right in front of Yez, and with the speed of a scared cat, zipped behind the irdan, like he would shield him from their superior’s wrath. Yez snorted, and continued on.

“Speaking of not being seen. Where’s the teryn, ah, what’s-his-name? Haven’t seen him since this morning’s run. Jones?”

“Dunno, sir,” the spindly cadet said from a million miles away, his eyes completely glued on to the windows. Even under the grey clouds of a thunderstorm, the city of Canterlot never stopped amazing him. Such simple, yet elegant architecture that managed to look like it was meant to look pretty rather than be sturdy. Yet there it was, sitting on the side of a mountain like an eagle watching over its kingdom below. It had been doing so for hundreds of years, according to Commander Boyo’s short briefing on the Fate.

“What, he’s our stealth guy, right? Recon or something? Feh. He better knock it off. The last thing I want is for these Equestrians to think is that we’re here to stab them with a knife from the dark. Lunch is in twenty minutes, boys, so you better get hungry. After that, I’m meeting with the princesses to write up an introduction speech. First impressions matter a whole bunch when it comes to the public, so you won’t be seeing me again ‘til dinner, or even tomorrow. So... I don’t know, go goof off. Just don’t be fools, got it?”

“Yessir,” four said as one. Jones ripped his gaze from the window, turning just far enough to catch a glimpse of a fourth cadet stepping behind them as silent as a whispered nothing. The animalistic face of the teryn winked, and Jones forced down a shudder as he turned to face the window once more. Every other second his view would be interrupted by an immaculate piece of the wall, or the jerking to attention they did out of habit every time an errant guard or servant passed by.

When it didn’t feel like it was pressing down on you, Jones considered, while looking up at the chandelier-spotted ceiling, Canterlot managed to make you feel like an ant scurrying about, like you were in the shadow of some great giant that only looked down on you in adoration. He had seen Celestia and Luna, sure, but only for the fleeting moments when they had first arrived. After that, a group of servants had whisked them away to their guest rooms; it seemed like Canterlot had an infinite amount of those things stored up in its maze-like design. Jones wondered why they didn’t just bother living out in the hedge maze since these was so little difference between the two.

“I was serious, you know,” Art muttered, his voice falling flat against the walls. Every stare was immediately aimed at him, and if it were any harder from Maar’n, it would’ve burned a hole through his neck.

“About them... and Earth?” Jones asked, his voice nearly refusing to come out of his lips. He looked at the other three cadets, and swallowed a rock that had formed in his throat.

“Correct. The fact is, while this might’ve once been the home of humanity, and the origin place for the galaxy, we no longer own it. Whatever catastrophe ended the humans, brought about the ponies, and I something tells me they didn’t take the planet by force. For all we know, the ponies actually descended from humans just like we all did.”

Maar’n snorted.

“I’ll be kindly ignoring that, cadet. Like I was saying, there’s no evidence that the Equestrians killed the humans. Keep in mind that they’re not the only species on the planet, either. Now if you’ll excuse me....” The commander trailed off, staring at a blinking red light coming off of his datapad. “Right. Something’s bugging up the communications device I put out near the gardens. I’ll meet you four at lunch,” he announced, turning around to peer down the mile-long stretch of hallway they’d already crossed. A look of sheer horror touched his face for half a moment, and then he jogged off.

“You know, considering that Celestia lady claims to move the frigg’n sun, and, you know, we actually saw that get done, I highly doubt that the ponies had nothing to do with the human’s demise. This planet is rightfully ours, and until I get stranded in Empirium space or they prove me wrong, I’m gonna keep on thinking that,” Maar’n huffed as soon as Art was out of earshot.

“I don’t see the logic behind that, sorry,” Jones said, keeping his eyes on the window.

“Eh, you’ll see it soon enough, kid. You’ve got the smarts to figure it out. I mean, seriously? An immortal god-princess that moves the sun? Doesn’t that seem a bit fishy? For all we know, she’s the one who went around killing humanity back when all of this started. Nobody, and I mean nobody could ever even really be that benevolent. She’s hiding something. I know it.”

“Perhaps,” the teryn behind us started up, his voice worming his way into their ears like snakes, “Celestia and her sister merely wish to lull us into a false sense of security, so then she may strike out and destroy the galaxy once more. She will harvest our souls to power herself and keep her eternal youth. But then again, we should not be sitting here, telling ghost stories like children. Shame.”

“I think he is right,” Yez said, turning to face the slinky cadet. “What is even your name?”

“I am known as A’rlan Vesol!os. Forgive me for being so... sneaky. It’s in the job description.”

“You’re recon, right?” Jones asked, eyes lighting up as lightning flashed behind the windows.

“Indeed. Master marksman, hacker, and acrobat.”

“Sounds like a good job to have,” Maar’n grunted, trying to trace Jones’ gaze from over his shoulder. They were right over the gardens now, and could faintly see the rolling green hills outlined by the thunderstorm’s bouts of lightning. He could just barely make out the odd structure that was the wiry frame of the communications “nest”, as Lilian had called it. Their commander hadn’t made it there yet, it seemed. Something about that felt off. Wrong.

“You have no idea, friend,” A’rlan chuckled.

~=V=~

“Communications are fixed. Not like it matters, since I doubt Jackson’s even at Omega by now,” Artzian said, looking down to accept a napkin from a servant. “Thank you.”

“What was wrong with it?” Jones asked, peering up from his salad. He’d been staring into it the entire time, at least until Maar’n had made a comment about eating like a horse. The other three cadets were chatting up a storm. Talking about how training was like on all the different planets, what they thought was going to happen during the mission before they’d entered the anomaly. The rounds.

“I think some lightning must’ve hit it, overloaded the power for a few seconds. Set the whole thing off like something was trying to hack the system. Just a couple of kicks and a reboot fixed it. Oh, you guys see that, apparently, they control the weather here?”

“Yea. It is pretty crazy, sir. I asked one of the guards about it, Shiny Armor or something, and he said that all ponies have innate magic. Earth ponies have it sort of bottled up, pegasus ponies use it to fly, and unicorns have their horns to control the stuff. Mind you, I’m not saying it’s magic, since magic doesn’t exist, but whatever,” Maar’n said through a mouthful of lettuce and vegetables. Jones stared up at him, silently noting the strange change in attitude.

“So... um, Commander Boyo?” Jones started, tapping his fingers against the table with sudden fever. All eyes turned towards him, and he felt himself lucky that the interloping group was allowed its own eating quarters and that there weren’t any more ponies to stare at him. “Ehe, urm, did you have a chance to talk to one of the Princesses about the anomaly yet? I, uh, figured that might be sort of important-”

“Jones, trust me,” Art said, one side of his mouth curling into a foxlike smile, “I know what I’m doing. Big, sensitive things like the anomaly can wait for the moment. Right now we’re still getting our bearings, and we still haven’t even announced our presence to the public yet. Relax a bit, then we’ll get to the serious stuff.”

“Whatever you say, sir,” Jones muttered, looking back down into his salad.

“Hey, chin up, champ.” Maar’n spat out a bit of lettuce, swallowing before his cheeks could get any redder. “We’re still on Earth, and nobody is shooting at us and we’re probably not going to get shot at, so there’s no reason to be so down about it, eh?

“I guess not,” Jones said, looking down again. His bowl was empty, and before he could register what that meant, it was encased in a silver glow and taken away. He looked up, and noticed that various unicorn servants were taking the plates and bowls from everyone. Maar’n propped his elbows on the table, and Art coughed for everyone’s attention.

“And, now. Princess Celestia and Luna will be with us in a moment, along with Captain Shining Armor, to conduct a brief meeting on the subject of the Wing military occupying Equestria. We’ll just be tossing around ideas for a bit, so if you feel you have something to contribute, feel free. After that, I’ll be meeting with the princesses to discuss how we’re going to introduce us to the public. Any qu-” He stopping, folding his arms as the door burst open. Luna flowed into the room like liquid moonlight, radiating power and mystique. She was flanked by the steely step of the Captain, his powerful aura matching the symbol on his butt.

“Please forgive my sister for not attending. Somepony must’ve spotted your ship leaving, and she has been doing her best to stop him from leaking it to the press early. Hmph. Shall we begin?” the princess announced, striding over to the other end of the small table with practiced grace. Armor followed, sitting down opposite the Commander. Something that could only be described as a wooden throne was summoned, its intricate carvings glinting in the sunlight, and Artzian dusted his hands on his uniform while Luna took her seat.

“Now, just to make sure we all know each other’s names. This is Cadet C. Q. Jones, special tactics trainee. Cadet Yez Nham, demolitions and vehicle trainee. Cadet A’rlan Se!Vos, reconnaissance, stealth, and tech guru. Lastly, but not least, Cadet Maar’n Kell, piloting expert and melee specialist. As for you four, you know who Princess Luna is, and right there is the Captain of the Royal Guard, Shining Armor.”

Wordless, silent greetings were given, and it was as if someone had flicked and invisible switch. The room descended into an oppressive silence, clearing like a slow moving fog when the princess opened her mouth to speak.

“Jackson mentioned to my sister that the Wing would set up defenses around Equestria. I want to know what that entails. I do not wish my subjects to be fearful of an unknown military presence taking up residence in Equestria. Furthermore, I must say we will not tolerate any military bases to be within a certain distance from a populated, civilian area. Is that clear?”

“Crystal, ma’am. Actually, we don’t plan on having that many military installments on the ground. Our best tactic is not to let them set foot on the planet. Stop ‘em where it counts: space. So we’ll probably set up one or two starbases - those are like bases that float in space - devoted entirely to defense, maybe a couple of smaller ones for research and civ’ purposes. There would constant fleet presence orbiting the planet. That wouldn’t be a problem... right?”

“I see no problem with a fleet presence, so as long as it does not cause problems for us. I... do not know enough about these ‘star bases’ to object to them. Anyhow, on the subject of fleets, it was agreed that you would be donating your technology to us, so that we may use it to our own ends and betterment. We all realize there is a very large gap to fill concerning your technology and ours. What of our own ships, our own defenses, or even the small things that would affect everyday life?” she asked. Commander Boyo looked down, tapping the table a few more times before raising his eyebrows.

“Well, we’ll be giving you any technology you need that isn’t explicitly Wing-guarded technology, and I’m sure Jackson will be donating a good bit of KaidenTech to the cause. Err, that’s his tech company. It’ll probably be a few weeks before we can think of making Equestrian ships, and a month to start production. As for defenses, we’ll be giving you the technology to produce your own, and ours will probably be completely entrenched in three months tops. I have a feeling Jackson will be asking the admirals to assign the Liberty Fleet to the planetary defense force, and, uh. That’s it. A full Equestrian fleet could be finished in a year or so, if you commissioned a Wing shipyard to make them offworld. But... gosh, your military is going to need to go through rigorous training to fly them, and your engineers and scientists are going to have to study them for years onward. We can give you the information you need to pilot them, but training is a whole different ballgame. I... suppose we could start working on some sort of training program. Flying a ship is, at its core, really easy and pilot-friendly, it’s just understanding it that boggles minds... Erm, right. I digress. You’ll get your technology, and you’ll be able to defend yourselves on your own in no-time.”

“Good. My sister and I agreed that when that time comes, we will not eject the Wing from Equestrian space, and you will be able to continue your operations on and around our planet. What of colonies, perhaps? Our population isn’t big enough for it to be necessary, but many ponies will want to go into the galaxy and to other worlds. Should we start small, in our own system? Would that involve terraforming?” Luna asked, leaning over the table ever so slightly. Shining Armor’s eyes bulged, and he and Artzian gulped in tandem.

“Um, terraforming,” the Commander muttered, sinking into his chair, “you sure do know a lot about how space works.... How much information did Jackson give you, again? I don’t remember any detailed packets in the First Contact Kit aboard the Homebound-”

“A lot, Commander. He told my sister everything we needed to know about how to get started, and he left you here to oversee its completion. If this is a problem, I’m sure you will be able to take it up with him once you secure long-range communications.”

“I. Um. That’s not...” Art blinked hard, rubbing his temples with his thumb and forefinger. Jones looked around, seeing similar reactions of discomfort from the other cadets.

Then he wasn’t looking at the table through pained eyes, he was softly smiling up at Luna with the rest of the cadets and their commander bearing similar expressions, and suddenly looking away in embarrassment. Like they’d been caught stealing cookies. Art clapped his hands with a dreadful note of finality. “Ha! Sorry about that. Just sort of dozed off. Hard to get used to the different sleeping patterns every time you visit a new planet. So, information packet? Good. I’m glad to know Jackson gave you that. Takes a lot of pressure off of me. Right... where was I? Oh, right, colonies. Terraforming costs a lot of money and resources, so until it’s necessary, I don’t recommend...”

Artzian’s voice trailed off into mindless gabber, and Jones’ let his mind wander. Something in the air smelled sickeningly sweet. He looked down, and blinked in surprise.

Why was he gripping the table’s edge?

~=V=~

“Death... will take... those who fight alone,” Jones hummed, spinning the model ship in his fingers. The miniature wasn’t much, just a present from the family wishing him good luck on his first mission. It was an almost ancient Retribution class Wing ship, one of the first the group ever built. It was nothing more than a pile of scrap metal compared to technology now, but back in the day, when the Wing was nothing more than a roaming band of mercenaries looking for a home, it was the height of technological advancement. Most of the other parts of the galaxy had yet to build even their first ship; a few were almost on the edge of such a discovery.

It wasn’t a pretty, good looking legend, but it was a legend nonetheless.

He didn’t even like spaceships.

“But, united we can break... a fate once set in stone,” he whispered, returning the trinket to a pants pocket. Below him laid all of Canterlot, spread out like an invitation to bliss. The clouds had long departed, leaving the city in the orange haze of the evening. Commander Boyo still hadn’t returned with news on the first-contact mission, and they hadn’t seen a hair of him or the princesses since lunch. They’d had salads, at least.

“That’s a pretty song. A tad too melancholy if you ask me, though,” a boyish voice said behind him. Jones didn’t bother to turn around; he knew who the voice belonged to. Despite the silly name, Jones figured that Shining Armor definitely deserved the title of Captain of the Guard.

He was also married to a princess. That had to count for something.

“Heh. I didn’t write it. I just hear it a lot,” Jones said, leaning back in his chair. There was a soft clopping of hooves, and the captain right right next to him, looking out at the same Canterlot as he was. The sun glinted off one of the roofs, forcing his eyes into a squint. “You’re right, though. It isn’t very happy. Anything you needed, Captain, err, Prince, whatever?”

“Just Shining Armor will do. No need for titles while we’re both off-duty. And I did have a few questions, actually, concerning the Wing. Celestia told me my little sister is out there, learning as much as she can, but I’m just curious.”

“Hah. I’m not an expert on the Wing, you know. I’m just a grunt.”

“I was too, once.”

“I... point taken, I guess. The Wing is... big, I know that, but it’s still small compared to everyone else. We’re sort of the underdog when it comes to the big picture. Uh. Anything specific you wanted to know?” Jones leaned back, looking up at the whispery clouds dancing above. Shining mirrored his movements, and chuckled.

“No, no. Keep going. Why did you join the Wing?”

“Well, uh, hm. My uncle was in it, back in during what we call the Golden Reign, which wasn’t as much fun as you’d think. Came back with a ton of amazing stories. I guess I looked at the bigger picture and I saw what the Wing was. We’re the single oldest organized galactic force; we flew the stars before anyone else. I wanted to be a part of it, so I took a ship as soon as I could and ended up in the Academy on Alteria-Cra. Six months of hard training and here I am, my first mission. I... I guess it’s humbling, being a part of all of this. That’s why I do it, to serve people and make their lives better. To protect them, if need be.” Jones took a gulp of air, and glanced over to Shining with an agonizing slowness. “H-how was that?”

“Not bad,” Shining said without missing a beat. “Could use some more work on the delivery, but a good foundation is what keeps anything afloat. No matter how many special trinkets you have, if you lack a solid table, they’ll all fall flat. Even if it’s a plain table that doesn’t know how special it is, it’ll work.”

Jones chuckled, not a trace of mirth in it, and held his face in his hands, rubbing at his temples in discomfort. “What... hnng... if the table was poorly crafted? I....” He trailed off, eyes edging towards the orange horizon beyond the balcony. “Wait a minute,” Jones whispered, turning to face Shining, “did you just...?” His voice caught in his throat, and his eyes flickered around the area where he could’ve sworn Shining was just a moment before. “How did?” the cadet muttered, rising to his feet as his muscles tensed up. He looked into the lavish room behind him. Nothing. Nothing but the forever settling dust in the last flickering rays of sunlight, desperate for their half a second in the light before they were once more whisked into darkness. Each undoubtedly thinking they were more important than the rest.

“I don’t-”

Beept!

His head jerked down to his wrist-mounted datapad, the thin screen flickering to live on its own. “What the?”

Beept!

“Oh, oh crap. Ohcrapohcrapohcrap,” Jones stuttered, his free hand zipping to his head and scrunching up his messy brown hair in a futile attempt to console himself, but that only made him squeeze tighter. “A probe in range...? What? Why is- is- is it sending to my datapad? Ummm...” He tapped his fingers against his side, looking into the room like it might give an answer. “Uh, Maar’n! Yez! Valeran, whatever the hell your name was?! Anyone there?”

There was a scuffling of boots and groans of annoyance, and a door opened up to reveal the tired faces of the grey Irdan and red Draxian. Maar’n sneered, and Yez bore a look of complete apathy. “What is it?” the former barked.

“One of the probes from the Homebound is transmitting to my datapad!” Jones called, and both expressions were promptly wiped off the face of the planet and replaced with looks of mild interest, and for the Irdan, apathetic interest.

“Give it here,” Maar’n ordered, yanking at Jones’ arm. He leaned in, eyes narrowing as a bit of text appeared. “Congrats, kid, you’re not insane. Probe 1A from the Homebound looks like it made it through the anomaly, now just give it here-” He twisted the arm around to get a better look at it, and Jones let out an inhuman sound.

“GNYRRAAH! What the hell?!”

“Quit your whini-” Maar’n stopped short when Yez leaned in, placing one placid, giant hand over Maar’n’s. “Really? Fine,” the cadet muttered, letting Jones’ limp arm fall back into place. Yez nodded, stepping back into place and wearing a serene smile.

“I’m not as- rrrrg, flexible as you are,” Jones hissed, trying to hold up his seemingly worthless arm with his other hand, peering to get a good look. “Now if you’ll please be quiet and stop jerking me around like your toy, I’ll read the message....” He trailed off, leaving an awkward silence in place, interrupted by short blips from the datapad.

“Well?”

“Shut up, it’s having a hard time connecting. Stupid thing isn’t giving all of the message.”

“Of course it is. Where’s that worthless furball when you need him? Here, let me see it ag-”

“No!” Jones waved a hand in front of Maar’n face, backing up into the balcony railing. The sun was just starting to dip over the horizon, and a chilling wind ripped throughout Canterlot’s towers. “It’s... here. ‘Sorry to interrupt whatever you’re... uh, disconnected, but all the cadets are now officially promoted to ensign and... uh, here, gimme a second....” Jones muttered, continuing to fiddle with the holographic screen. “Almost got it, I think.”

“You hear that, though? We just got promoted!” Maar’n exclaimed, wrapping a joyous arm around Yez and wearing an uncharacteristic smile.”

“You should all really pay more attention, don’t you think? I’ve been eavesdropping for quite some time,” a slippery voice from the room said. A’rlan walked into view, a few spots of mud speckled across half of his otherwise pristine uniform. He wiped his brow and stepped behind Maar’n. “A promotion? Good news, indeed. What of the... rest of the message?”

“It’s fading fast. Ugh! Why did they have to do the message acceptance this way? It’s so frigg’n inefficient. Might be my outdated ‘pad, but whatever.” Jones took a deep breath, eyes scanning over the last bit of the message. “Ahem. New information suggests... is a spy... one of the cadets you have... on Equestria. And now I’ve lost it. Frigg’n stupid system. I-... uh, guys?” Jones’ eyes widened, and each cadet looked up, only then noticing they had formed a circle. Each one seemed to lick their lips, trying to gauge the emotions of the other.

“I think,” Maar’n began, swallowing and looking between Yez and Jones, “um, did that message just say...?”

“I believe it just did, my friends,” A’rlan whispered. Jones tapped his throat, hoping his voice would still work if he wanted to use it. The chill that had taken hold of their balcony seemed to grip them only tighter with each second, and the last moments of the sunrise disappeared. Equestria was plunged into darkness. C. Q. Jones exhaled, and said the thing everyone knew the other was thinking.

“One of us is a spy.”

~=V=~

(12) One Foot Forward

-20-8-5 13-1-3-8-9-14-5 UNKNOWN ENTRY DATE.

-4-5-19-3-5-14-4-19 21-16-15-14 PLAYBACK ERROR.

-20-8-5 1-18-18-15-7-1-14-20 FILE CORRUPTION.

-

“And... why do you wish to join the Wing?”

“I... uh.”

“No need to be shy, lad. If there isn’t much of a reason, we’ll still let you in, what with the need of members and all. We’re fighting a rogue group called the Swarm, and we could use all of the pilots we can get... and... you’re a medical assistant?”

“Yes sir. Enough experience to become a full-time medic in the Wing. I checked.”

“According to these papers, that’s an understatement. There’s a spot open on the ESS Legacy: the head medical officer. Think you can handle that?”

“Yes sir. I know I can. But... uh, where do you think we’ll be stationed, most often?”

“Well, the Legacy is one of our best ships, so there’s no telling what fantastic excitement we’ll be facing. I captain it, as you know, and I also run Starbase Omega.”

“That’s where we are.”

“Obviously, haha! You don’t speak much Basic Galactic, do you?”

“No sir. Only started a year ago and sometimes I still have to check my audio translator to make sure it’s working.”

“Oh that’s fine. We get plenty non-Basic speakers, and they all learn in time. Now, just sign here, here, and grab a uniform in one of the lockers to your left. I... there, you got it. That jacket looks good on you, too, heh. You’ll fit in with the others well. Let me just... do you happen to have a middle name? Sometimes the papers... hah, you know?”

“No sir. It’s just Jackson Amber.”

~=V=~

-Location not provided.

-Time not provided.

I’ve never really contemplated failure.

Perhaps I have, but I never let it destroy me. It was just sort of there, constantly nagging at the back of my mind like an annoying kid kicking the back of my chair and refusing to stop until I leaned back and crushed him for a few moments with it. I’d go so far as to say that I like to look on the bright side of things, and because of that, I never actually fail. Only those who believe they can fail actually stand a chance at it.

Thud.

I always win, you see...

Thud.

I’m here when so many others aren’t. Did they survive the many hardships I’ve endured? No, and that’s why I’m here and they’re not. They’re dead or scattered, and I stand above them in all aspects. I’ve let people down, and I’ve done things below expectations, but with my mindset centered on eliminating the possibility of failure, I have never failed. Not once. I win, and only I win. I could even go so far and say that it’s all a game where I win every time. It’s rigged. But I...

BOOM. RVVRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOM.

I’m not so sure of that right now.

I wish they were here.

-Aboard Starbase Omega, the Omega System.

-Twelve hours after arrival.

-Mess hall.

-

“And the reason behind this, Lt. Willum?” I asked, pulling an increasingly long strand of confetti from my hair. The rest of my body was not so lucky, and before the thin pink paper had wafted down to the floor I was tearing off another two from my shoulder. All around me were the various sounds of what could only be a party, and I had fatefully walked in right as they showered the room in confetti and congratulations.

“Oh, no sir, it wasn’t me. Well, I agreed to it and that’s about it, heh! But it was our pink friend here that suggested we have a little get-together! Ain’t that right, Pinksters?” the blonde man answered, turning around to wave at a pony who was doing some sort of dance upon the table. I didn’t see any players, but I could’ve sworn I’d heard faint music in the background.

And why did I suddenly feel a bit like dancing and singing?

“Pinkie,” I grumbled, feeling the corners of my mouth automatically curl downwards.

“Yupperooni, that’s my name! Don’t wear it out,” Pinkie Pie announced, bouncing in front of me in a way that physics shouldn’t have allowed. “Whatcha need, Cappy? Wait! First, isn’t this party just splendifferiffic!? I made that word up just now, and I think it’s one of my new favorite words! Last week my favorite word was snarf, but that’s only for words I make up! Oooh, and you know what? You kept your Pinkie Promise! Yay for you! I made cake and everything!”

“Pinkie,” I said, feeling needless eyes turning to watch our encounter.

“There are a toooooooon of actual words that are my favorite, too! Like kumkwat! Do you have kumkwats in space? ‘Cause I think that would be pretty swell! Space kumkwats, hurrah! Do you have farms in space? I’d love to work on a farm in space-”

Long have I had a horrible habit of shutting out voices, letting them die off into nothing more than a static for the back of my head. Normally, it’s not something I mean to do, and someone will be yelling at me for a few minutes before I realize that the ship is under attack and I’m needed at the bridge, but here? Well. Yes. I shut Pinkie out on purpose. Anyone with a lick of sense would. With that in mind, I looked to Twilight, because she seemed to have some sense in her.

“Is she...?”

“Yes,” Twilight deadpanned, looking down at her gold and white cake, “always, and we can never get her to stop.”

“Right,” I started, trying to scoot away from the Pink Menace to talk to Twilight in case, you know, Pinkie decided that she had to be right in my ear for me to pay attention. A few of the other ponies and Spike were looking between me and her, eyes twitching. How often did Pinkie do this? I felt special, sort of. “So the party?”

“Oh, right,” Twilight said, lowering her magic-encased cake down to its plate. “It was more of a collaboration between Pinkie and the Lieutenant. It’s because... well, he kind of mentioned that you didn’t have any idea what was in the Anomaly, but you sort of thought it might’ve been some huge enemy fleet getting ready to attack you. He called it a suicide mission, so Pinkie said a party would be good because it wasn’t really a suicide mission in the end. Oh! And Willum said something about ‘being the first to find Terra’ but nopony knew what he meant and he kind of looked confused when I asked him about it.”

“Aye, yessir!” Willum interrupted, rudely leaning on my shoulder with his lanky arm. I slapped away the gut-reaction of simply breaking the offensive appendage off and rolled my eyes instead. “And don’t forget a successful First-Contact mission! That’s a first for you, Mister Amber!”

“Willum,” I growled, turning to face the soon-to-be Ensign. His arm flopped uselessly to his side, and we both knew what came next. “Can I speak to you outside for just a moment?” I turned my head to glance at Twilight. “Sorry, Miss Sparkle, but I’ve got to make some last minute preparations. You might want to tell your friends we’re getting ready to leave. As for you, Lt. Willum....” I reached over, snagging my prey by the arm before he had a chance to scamper away.

“Uh, sir?” he asked, taking quick, short steps as I dragged him from the bustling room. “What’s this about? Did you not like the party? I figured you wouldn’t, but I did it anyways because the ponies looked so happy when I told them they could have-”

“No, I’m not happy with the party. I really hate cake - you know that, but you know what?” I hissed, leaning in directly upon my subordinates’ face. He shrunk back, stopping when his shoulders hit the wall.

“What?” he squeaked. I returned to my normal position and sneered.

“I don’t care about the party. If it makes the ponies happy, good. No. I’ve got a problem with you and what you just told them - even if, thankfully, you were completely too stupid to tell them in full.”

“Um.” He shrank further, as if I were still hovering inches from his face.

“What moronic part of you thought it would be a good idea to mention Terra in front of them? How do you think they’d take the news that they’re sitting on a planet that many would believe belongs to them simply because it used to belong to the humans? They’d think we’re only out to get them!”

“Oh, good, I thought it was going to be something worse... I, uh. I’m sorry, sir. I’m gonna make sure none of the other crew members mention Terra to them from now on, even though that might not be too long since you’re about to leave ‘n all. Um.” My gaze had hardened, and it felt like the air between our eyes spontaneously combusted.

“You’re a Human Variant, right?”

“Human-V an’ proud sir. You are too-”

“What Variant?”

“Sorry?”

“Subspecies. Variant. Species. Race. Whatever the sodding hell you want to call it. What are you?”

“Gantan, sir. From Alteria-Cra,” Willum sniffed, and only then did I realize that I had gone right back to floating above him like a vulture, with only a little less than a foot between my face and his. He sniffed again, turning his head to look away from mine, and I felt my legs take me backward.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, taking another awkward step back. “I should’n’t’ve done that. It’s just, the party...”

“I know about the party.” Willum swallowed, looking down at a speck of dust that had suddenly become vitally important to him. “I guess it was pretty mean of me to let them have it with you around. I don’t know much about it, but I overheard one of the veterans talking about it.”

“I-” Swallowing, I risked a glance at the still shut door. There were still voices, and there was still that static in the back of my head. Nobody had listened in. “It’s alright. I need to get over it anyways. It’s been over two years. What about the Homebound? It’s ready for us to leave, right?”

“Um, yessir. Cleaned up, restocked with what we can spare, and refueled. Replaced the power cells, too, since they were looking a bit used. And the communications systems! Hoo boy, those were really bad. Nearly completely fried from power-overload. It’s in tip-top shape and ready to leave on your orders, sir,” he said, regaining his composure remarkably fast. I wiped the idea of demoting him from my mind, and started the trip over to the party door.

“Oh, sir!” he called, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat. He reached into his jacket pocket, revealing a small black, box-like device.

“Here’s the false voicebox you asked for. Dunno why the girl doesn’t just rip the stuff out and get a biomender to fix it, she’s got too pretty a face to have that ugly thing sticking out of her neck. Should I go tell the other crew members that we’re ready to start transporting back to the Homebound?”

“Yea, sure,” I muttered, rolling the black box in my palm. It fit perfectly, and made a little clanking noise when it collided with my silver ring. Gripping it tight, I peeked back in the mess hall. “Oi! Any and all Homebound crewmembers, get out ‘ere stat. As for the rest of you, ponies included, just start cleaning up, alright?” There were hushed curses and moans of complaint from quite a few people (and ponies) in the room, but like a slumbering giant awakening from a long nap, the crew assembled in the open hallway.

“We leaving?” Lillian asked as soon as the door had shut, stepping to her spot in the hallway with total accuracy. I raised an eyebrow, and she scoffed. “Thought so. This old place always gave me the willies, being so far out from Wing space. Party was nice, though.”

“Yea,” I said through gritted teeth, “the party was great.” I took a deep, controlled breath, washing a few unneeded memories from my mind, and opened them to see the world so much clearer. “While you party animals were goofing about and enjoying some free-time, I’ve actually gotten work done.” They shifted, giving each other odd looks as each one slowly fell into the stiff position a soldier should carry when on duty. “A Wolf Carrier-Class and two Kaiden Frigates are on their way to Omega in response to the High-Alert being spread to the fleets. I called them in, even though they’re from the Defense Fleet. While you were sleeping, I oversaw the evacuations of the scientists to our hidden bunker on Treda - the only planet in this system, as you know. As for us, we’re heading straight for Gantoris where I can oversee the Liberty Fleet movements and get my orders directly from the CoA, and that’s where the pony ambassadors will be safest. Any questions?”

“Ah, yes. I do have one,” Aran said, lifting up one clawed hand, blinking, and sheepishly lowering it. I nodded, and she continued. “If E and whatever force he’s managed to scrounge up this time attacks, will we and the Homebound get a chance to see some action? I know we’re new, and I’m fine staying on the defensive with you if that happens, but I’d like to know.”

“I sure hope we get to see some action. I’d love to watch as a few of their cruisers go up in flames. Heard it’s a beautiful thing,” Lillian said, one corner of her mouth lifting into a sly smile.

“We’ll be on the defensive. With the ponies, I’m not taking any chances, and it’s not like E will stand much of a chance against us,” I said, pausing to take a breath and smack myself with a metaphorical hammer. What was I doing, lying to my own soldiers in saying the enemy wouldn’t stand a chance? Our defenses were weak as it was, and a full on assault would send us scrambling even on high alert. “If worst comes to worst, and it won’t, I’ll pull us all out to Han Wavel so I can direct the Liberty Fleet to defend there. It’s full of civilians and I know the Defense Fleet can handle Gantoris.”

“Yea, it’s full of civvies,” Lillian said, crossing her arms, “but not just any civvies, right? We all know Han Wavel is full of -”

“Shut up, Ensign, or I’ll make sure you never see a firefight and come out alive,” I hissed, biting my lip afterward. I hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep. That was it. I’d spent all night talking into that recorder or taking a break to oversee the evacuations. I got cranky when I didn’t get my sleep.

“Yessir. Listen, can we just go?”

“Right. Fine. You all can get situated on the Homebound. Willum should be waiting in the hangar,” I said, rolling my eyes as they sauntered past me. “Ap bap bap!” I yelled, spinning to grab two very specific people before they could get through my grasp. Roland and Dylan, and I could finally see Dylan’s face.

Funny. I thought Willum had said she had a pretty face. To me it just looked scarred and worn. To my knowledge, it wasn’t like the blue-skinned ur’luks were allergic to biomenders, so what was her deal? Other than that, like most of her kind, she had sleek black hair that was as dark as the night, and she wore it a lot like someone I used to know; a raised ponytail. It was a familiar sight, and I hated it.

“Ensign Dylan?” I asked, looking her square in the eyes. She blinked, and I took that glorious half-second to glance down. Where her throat was, right in the middle of her neck, was a padded, plastic area that the voice box would fit into. Took a deep breath, and opened the palm of my hand to her.

Seeing her smile in that hair was nice, but it didn’t compare to the original.

“Oh, that’s pretty swag, Captain, sir,” Roland muttered, eyes wide. Dylan nodded slowly, and leaned her head back to expose her neck. With a frantic hand movement, she pointed at the voicebox slot.

“Uh, right. Then. Don’t see why you can’t put it in yourself,” I muttered, fumbling with the artificial plastic thing to try and align it just right. These kinds of things were finicky, and even more so when you were dealing with older tech like voiceboxes. For a split second, life was in slow motion, and my hands crept through the air like it was invisible molasses. I’d done this before. A few times, actually.

And then it was in, and Dylan took a step back. Roland stepped over to my side, smiling a big, stupid grin. “Well go on, bro, say something!”

“ThAnK-” Dylan stopped short, swallowing. Thin, fragile fingers reached up to fiddle with the box, and her smile grew a bit wider. “ThAnK YoU CAp- Errrfffgf. Ahem. Test. Testing.... Thank you, Captain. This means a lot. Not having the option to talk is boring.” She turned to Roland, her face falling back into neutrality and gazing over him as if for the first time. “And as for you, Ensign Roland.”

Roland grinned.

“Thanks for letting him know about the box, bro,” she said, her voice now completely unrecognizable from a robot’s. Why didn’t TACT talk like that? Oh. Right. I was lazy when I had him programmed. The blue woman grinned, and some invisible trigger was pulled, because they immediately balled up their fists and pounded them together mid-air.

“Right,” I said, making sure to wipe my voice clean of emotion, even if I couldn’t wipe the amused smile from my face, “and I want you two to be on the Fate when the ponies and I leave for the Homebound. I have a few more things I want to talk about, but it can wait for the ride there.”

“Yessir, we’ll head out to the hangar and wait for you there,” Dylan said, catching Roland’s eye and stepping out. I waited, taking deep, slow breaths until the faint echoes of their boots hitting the ground finally faded away. I stared at the spot where they were, the dull grey floor boring into my eyes and mind. The lights felt brighter than normal.

“Only two years,” I muttered, making my way to the mess hall entrance with the speed of a snail. Pushing it aside, I peeked in. The party was finally winding down, and they had already removed that horrible cake. One of the crewmembers was sweeping up the confetti. “Hey,” I called, blinking when I barely whispered it. I took a deep breath, and frowned. “Oi! Anyone in here from Equestria, get out in the hall. I’ve got one or two things to say and then we’re leaving, got it? Good.” I stepped back, watching as a trickle of equine shapes filtered out of the door and into the hall. They stood at attention like soldiers, almost.

There were bags under Applejack’s eyes, and my frown only fell deeper, because the harder I looked, I could see more and more signs of fatigue from the ponies. Rarity’s eyes were unfocused, Twilight’s mane didn’t seem as pristine as it did, and Dash was walking instead of flying. How late had they stayed up last night? At least they’d get over their jet lag by Gantoris.

“Alright. It’s been a fun stay, here, but we need to get to Gantoris as quick as possible,” I started, narrowing my eyes. Something felt like it had been shoved in my ears. Some sort of cotton plug. “We’re going to stop at the Aedinia system to pick up two friends of mine - Admirals - and only because that’s between us and Gantoris. After that, the fun activities can finally start, and I know you’re all getting tired of just being shipped around like this. Don’t worry. Anyways, as soon as we get on the Homebound, I want you all to get some rest. The time difference is really showing... uh, right. Go meet Roland and Dylan at the hangar.” I swallowed, and before they could silently trot off I raised my hand. “Fluttershy, Applejack, Spike, Twilight. Stay. I need to talk to you four.”

“Oookay,” Twilight said, raising an eyebrow. Spike blinked tiredly, standing beside the unicorn.

“Whatcha need, sugarcube?” Applejack asked, adjusting her hat with one free hoof.

Fluttershy just hid behind them.

“I just... well, I wanted to talk is all. You three, out all your friends, left the most behind. Applejack, you ran a farm and had a family, Twilight, you were... well, you had a lot going for you, and Fluttershy... uh, I heard you were some kind of animal caretaker? Did you run a shelter, compound, or something?”

“Oh, no, I just took care of the little critters of Ponyville.”

I blinked.

“Oh-kay then,” I muttered, looking from the pegasus to the farmer. “I just wanted to make sure you’re not feeling homesick or anything. Leaving your life behind to go out and explore the stars... well, it digs at some people. I’ve felt it, Willum’s felt it, and everyone on the Homebound has felt it at some point, but we all help each other get through it. So are you feeling alright, Miss Applejack?”

“Well, ah....” She trailed off, her muzzle scrunching up in thought, sifting through memories and thoughts to form her feelings into words. I knew that look. I’d worn it once. “I guess I know my family’s safe, and I’m safe, so there’s nothing ‘ta worry about. The Princess said she’d have a couple Royal Guard fellas help out at the farm if Big Mac needs it, and Applebloom don’t need me holding her hoof through life. They’re happy, I’m happy, and I’ll be back with them in time. No use frett’n over it, I think.”

“Wise words,” I said before her mouth could even shut. Whatever she thought, all that mattered was she wouldn’t be complaining during the trip. “And you, Miss Fluttershy?”

“Um... please just call me Fluttershy, and I’m fine.” I took a long, controlled deep breath, and resisted the urge to purposefully let my eyes twitch.

“Very well. And - uh, what are you doing?” I asked, turning to look at Twilight. She was levitating - something I would definitely need to get used to seeing - a scroll, wrapped up in a shining red ribbon. Spike grabbed it from the air, and looked at me like I had turtles coming out of my ears.

“I’m just sending a letter to Princess Celestia. She asked for reports on what I think on the Galaxy, and even though I have nothing substantial to write about on that subject, I still wanted to let her know how we’re doing. Spike, go ahead and send the letter.”

“How do I plan on sending a paper letter while we’re out in space?” I asked, interrupted by a loud, rude belching sound. I glared at Spike, only to have my eyes widen of their own accord. A bout of green flame erupted from his mouth like a snake, wrapping itself around the scroll and hungrily disintegrating it. The particles seemed to fizzle, and I’m not sure if it was just my imagination, but I could’ve sworn I saw an ethereal, ghost-like green haze float off in a miasma. I blinked, and the whole thing was over.

“I... what?” I sputtered, mouth working and no other sounds coming out.

“What, you’ve never seen a low-level transportation spell? I could do these since I was a baby!” Spike said, puffing his chest out in a poor attempt to look manly. I stopped preventing my eye from twitching, and the little thing just had at it like a fat man on free junk food day.

“How did you do that?” I managed to say after a few awkward, heavy seconds.

“Magic, duh,” Spike replied, Twilight’s mouth already half open.

“Right,” I muttered, trying to raise myself to full height and grab what I could from the broken pile of glass that was my understanding of world physics, “magic, duh.”

~=V=~

When I’d gotten to the hangar, I had decided to accompany the regular crew to the Homebound. It was aboard the thin, pencil-like shuttlecraft that represented the ancient technology we used to use. I wasn’t even sure if I could fly it if the pilot had offered, the controls were so outdated, but there was a time when I was the best the Wing had to offer. I could fly circles around capital ships in one of these, in my prime, and there I was, strapped into a seat and trying to remember what buttons the pilot was pushing to make us accelerate.

Evo, Lilian, Roland, and Dylan were all with me. The former two because they were the most essential crew members - the engineer and the pilot, and the latter because I needed to talk to them. So I sent Lilian to Evo, knowing full well the cockpit could sit three, and chose a chair right in front of the two soldiers. I recalled what I’d seen when I’d looked over their volunteer applications.

Roland Everson, good marksman, sticks to cover, bad under pressure.

Dylan Dylan, worse aim than Roland, prefers open battlegrounds, better under pressure.

I had chosen them to balance each other out, I said to myself. I even had them manipulated in the training sessions six months prior to the actual mission. My prediction was correct; they filled each other’s weaknesses and became a well oiled machine in tough situations. Roland fed off of her level head in the battlefield, and Dylan seemed to value her life more. Artzian told me, that, at least. I was off doing more important things during those six months, and couldn’t be bothered. Nevertheless I needed them to act well together. Because I had chosen them, based purely on text files, for one job.

They were supposed to die.

That was their purpose.

I had chosen it.

Me.

I sat in the shuttle, tapping my fingers against my knee and looking over at two souls who I had picked from a sea of souls wanting me to pick them, and I had picked them - at the time, faceless files containing only words - for the purpose of merely existing to get shot so I didn’t have to. Artzian had asked me, completely in jest, if that was my plan for bringing them along on the Fate’s first descent, and I had replied falsely. Yet here they were, blissfully unaware that their commanding officer had planned their deaths, and currently sat in front of them feeling utterly and completely stupid for even contemplating it. Was it because, now, I had finally seen their faces and heard their voices? Was it because they were suddenly something more than names on a file report?

Those were my thoughts as we zipped away from Starbase Omega, and only until we were almost back on the Homebound did I bother saying anything. Even then, what I said was stupid.

“So why did you join the Wing, Roland? Dylan?”

“What?” Dylan asked, Roland’s mouth already half open to reply with the same word.

“I asked, why did you join the Wing? It’s not an easy choice, what with recent events,” I said, leaning back in my seat. Something in the back of my head, a memory, stirred, and I fought off the urge to let it claw its way back to the surface. Whatever it was, it needed to stay down with the rest of the horrible, disgusting things in that dark pit of my mind. Roland coughed, Dylan blinked.

“I...” Roland started, eyes shifting to look at Dylan. The ur’luk huffed at his pleading look, and rolled her eyes.

“I do not know about him, but I joined because at the time, you were at war with the Empirium. They murdered my brother, and I wanted revenge. By the time I had traversed the Neutral Zones and gotten to an academy, the war was over and it was too late. I was committed, and I know that each and every moment I stay in the Wing is another moment I can make a tyrant pay - to take revenge on those who have lost their own to the monsters of this galaxy. That is why I am here,” she said, arid conviction heating the space between us like a nuclear explosion. My eyes rose, and I caught her gaze. Deep, dark green eyes pierced my own, and I felt something pinch in me. It was an accusing green. I’d felt it before.

One would think a year and a half would be enough to get over rumors like that.

“I’m not a traitor,” I hissed, biting my lip.

“I never said you were,” she retorted, “but I know the stories. I read up on the news while it was all happening. Permission to speak frankly?”

“Granted,” I said, my voice far off and dim to my own ears.

“You could’ve done so much more with the opportunity that came up. But instead you came limping back like a beaten dog, begging the Wing to-”

“Denied,” I whispered, stopping her words mid-air. Her mouth hung open, words ready to fling themselves at me like useless bullets. Drips of energy waiting to be spent on reminding me of what could’ve been a disaster - what could’ve been a failure. Roland shuddered, and my eyes jerked to him. He, in his newfound shyness, would be the perfect target to exact my revenge upon. “And why did you join the Wing, Roland?” I asked with such venom that the ensign jerked back as if a spider had landed on his arm. Perhaps one had.

“I-I-I-”

“No need to be shy, lad. If there isn’t much of a reason, then it’s all right and good. Where did you come from, though? What’s your home planet?”

“I-... I, uh.”

“Roland is from Veldan II, from the Veldan system,” Dylan said hurriedly, seeing the face of her friend turn redder with each passing second. Her eyes lost her accusing glint, and almost shimmered with apologies as she silently asked of my mercy. “I hail from the Hurg’rah system.”

“Very well, I suppose that’s all I wanted to know. We’ll speak more on the Homebound,” I said, nodding at her with my own eyes. Our silent conversation over, she looked at the floor and sighed. No one can say I lack mercy.

“I... sir?” Roland started, one hand tapping incessantly at his knee. I looked up to meet his eyes, and found myself looking at the top of his head instead. He stared at the floor, and I could see that his brown hair was brought back into a braid, slipping into the back of his uniform when it got too long. He took a deep breath, and I hunched over to look at the ground too. As the seconds passed, I felt the anger melt away like a boiling hot icecube dripping all around me. It no longer felt like my own breath was filtered, and I exhaled. “Sir, what happened with the Empirium?” he asked, and from across the row I heard Dylan gulp.

“They tried to bribe me,” I muttered, ears perking up as the sound echoed around the cabin. It felt like the cliffside was crumbling under me. “I accepted it,” I breathed.

“There is a ‘but’ though,” Dylan added, her words cutting my own to ribbons.

“Right. They bribed me to join their side - to don their uniform, and I did. I spent days wandering their bases and fortresses, getting as much intel as I could on their infrastructure. It worked, for a time,” I said, taking a moment to swallow a choke, “but they figured me out too fast, locked me out before I could do any real damage. I think it was another one of the First Recon that figured it out and leaked it to them. But I... I came back when it happened. Barely escaped with my life. Took... a lot of effort to convince the Admirals I wasn’t some sort of double agent. They knew me, though. I’d never turn traitor. Ever.”

“The First Recon?” Dylan asked, leaning back in her seat. I glanced up to look at her curious eyes, and then let my eyes fall again. “I never heard anything about them during the war.”

“They were sort of top-secret,” I said to the floor, “we were a hyper-elite special operations force meant to take on high-risk missions into Empirium territory. We did everything from pose as officers to secretly scour their bases for WMDs. We were the only reason the Wing had any footing in the war. But...”

“Always a but,” Roland whispered.

“The commander - Captain B. D. Stayn; I had only just been reinstated into the Wing at the time and was a Lieutenant, as you both know - he was corrupt. He constantly insisted that the Wing First Recon was separate from the rest of the Wing. In the end, before the Empirium pulled its last cards and the war ended, he actually tried to turn us all against the Wing as his own personal army. It was a... pathetic attempt, really, but then the Empirium stepped in and tried to bribe or extort every single member. Those that were loyal to the Wing had already left, with me staying behind to try and take Stayn out myself. It was a mess...” I trailed off, taking another long breath.

“So it was a coverup then? Now that I think about it, I could’ve sworn I heard the name ‘First Recon’ passed around a few times over conspiracy radio broadcasts, whenever they brought up the war.”

“Yes, it was a coverup,” I said, looking up at Roland. Our eyes locked on to each other.

“I’m not a traitor,” I finished.

~=V=~

“Lillian, how are we?”

“Green across the board, Cappy.”

“Evo?”

“Ready for the jump, sir.”

“TACT, are all our power systems locked for overload prevention?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Path scans, TACT”

“We Are Free To Go And The Travel Line Is Clear, Sir.”

“Evo, punch it in thirty seconds,” I said, scrolling down a list of unimportant things that had appeared on my holo-screen. I sat at the navigation panel, letting Evo do the flying for this. Omega was long behind us, and Willum had already sent us a farewell message that I’d denied opening. It felt good, slamming my thumb on that big red button. I looked behind me, letting my instincts take over. Evo sat stock still in the pilot chair, his own eyes not staying still and his hands buzzing about the controls like hummingbirds.

Jumping, what we were about to perform, was considered to be one of the earliest forms of high-speed space travel available. It was what the Wing used to spread its influence faster than any other faction in the galaxy. Beyond complicated explanations that would take a degree in physics and engineering to understand, it made the engines go much faster than normal for a short amount of time. It was the fastest way to go anywhere in the galaxy, besides outright teleportation, and the balancing act every ship had to perform to use both it and regular high-speed travel meant that Wing ships had to refuel after each jump.

It was complicated.

“Aye, sir,” Evo said, speeding up the process of holo-smashing. I let my gaze wander, and caught the eyes of the ponies. I hadn’t paid much attention to them, recently, I supposed. That would change on Gantoris, and it would only take two jumps to get there.

“And for our guests who don’t know,” I announced, feeling my voice vibrate through my throat as I raised my voice for the ponies, “we’re going to be stopping at Aedinia system, at the planet Parinin to pick up Admiral San Uske and Admiral Patrick Fenway, two of my old friends. From there, we’ll make one more jump to Gantoris and will be free to go planetside. That’s when the fun will begin.”

“Finally! Can’t wait to get out of this cramped tin-can!” Rainbow shouted, perhaps a bit louder than I’d liked. Evo waved at me, the corners of his mouth arching upwards.

“Ten seconds, sir!”

“Right, and girls?” I called, waiting until each eye was on me before I continued. “What we’re about to do can be a bit jarring, but it’s the fastest form of space-travel available to us. It’ll only last a few seconds, but it might feel a bit like the ship is breaking in half and you’re turning inside out. I had Aran prepare some... ah, bag attachments to your seats if you need them. Is that-”

Then what once was, wasn’t, and we were gone.

The bridge was in chaos.

Someone - high pitched and female, was screaming, and as I jerked my head around the shuddering cacophony that suddenly felt like nothing more than a tomb, Evo caught my eye, and shouted something.

“We’re being intercepted!”

(13) Two Leaps Back

-Aboard the ESS Homebound K-196

-Thirty minutes after leaving Omega.

-Bridge.

-

“Interception, interception!” Evo repeated like a broken siren, his arms flying across the controls like a swarm of angry wasps. Something caught in my throat; like magnets my eyes were drawn to the shocked faces of the ambassadors. Like a horrible, gaseous bubble, I let out a breath. “Five seconds!”

“All reserve power to shields!” I shouted, spinning around to face my own screen. “Everyone prepare for reentry!”

The swirling mass of stars in front of us spasmed, reforming all at once in the hurried craziness of a late worker, and they snapped to attention, saluting me with a sly smile. Directly in front of us, blotting out the stars like an oncoming curtain of doom, was a deep grey ship, marred by navy blue lines that enveloped it like scars. I had seen the design before, several times, but it was just on the edge of my memory; a generic bulky body with two side engines; used on older, out-of-date ships.

Off to each side were eight more just like it, surrounding our puny vessel in a grey and blue semi-circle shadow that loomed over us like a hawk over a rabbit. It wasn’t just one ship, it was a fleet. Each ship design slightly different from the next; it didn’t matter if one ship looked like a T and another like an H, though, because in the end we were outnumbered and outgunned. Worst of all, the more I stared at them, a long forgotten name came into focus in the back of my mind.

“Who pissed who off, this time?” I asked, gazing over the crew members’ faces. Aran exhaled, opening her mouth to answer in a whisper.

“I don’t know, but my father built a few ships like that. Codoro military group. Privately ow-”

“I know who Codoro is,” I interrupted, leaning back in my chair. I stared out at that blue and grey conglomerate of turrets and cannons, letting my eyes find its way to the bridge of the fleet’s largest ship. No doubt its own captain was doing the same. “Could’ve sworn they died off five or so years ago. Their communications channel open?”

“Yessir,” Aran replied, scrolling through numerous blue holograms at her panel. Like a string puppet, my mouth lifted into a victorious smile, and I turned to face the rest of the crew. “Want me to hail them?”

“Their weapons are primed, sir,” Lilian warned, frowning down at me, “and if I’m right, if they fire, we’ll be dust faster than you can give the order to retreat.”

“Uh, Captain Amber?” Twilight’s nervous voice rang out. My eyes connected with hers, and I nodded. “What’s happening?”

“Does Equestria have pirates?” I asked hurriedly, letting my eyes wander over the group. They looked about the ship and each other with nervous, tittering eyes. I didn’t blame them. Twilight opened her mouth to respond, but a brash voice beat her to it.

“Of course we do! They just don’t stick their necks near Equestria!” Rainbow exclaimed. A bit of viciousness entered my smile, my brow tilting down..

“Sir Amber, are you implying these ships are... pirates?” Rarity’s eloquent tone added. My head bobbed.

“Yes. Now you all get to see why the Wing is needed, because we’re gonna stop these guys. Trust me when I say they can kiss their pirating days goodbye. So if you can excuse me,” I said, letting my seat rotate back into place, “I’m going to show you how I do my job.” I honed in on the cruiser in front of us, playing out the battle to come in my mind. We’d commit to evasive maneuvers, their entire fleet would fire on us, and there was nowhere to go. Lilian was right, there’d be nothing left of us after ten seconds.

Like a tidal wave, a large panel slid away on the top of the largest cruiser, leaving ten holes. Each was the size of the Fate.

“Heavy missile launcher!” Lilian shouted.

“Good,” I barked.

“Sir, I think we should hail them,” Aran said from beside me.

“Wait one second, Ensign, what’s the closest fleet and how soon can they get here?” I asked, resting my arm on the sleek desk. I was looking forward, but I could feel that all eyes were on me. Pressure to avoid failure can make or break a man, and fortunately for me, it only gripped my mind in an iron fist and put it on the path to greatness. My eyes fell shut.

The Homebound, in all its miniscule glory, the best frigate I’d ever designed, faded into existence in my mind’s eye. I knew what to do.

“It’s the Talon Fleet, sir. The ESS Potentia could turn the tide in a fight with these guys just by itself,” Aran rattled off. “I could send a silent distress call, but it’ll take a few minutes for them to jump here.”

“I know that!” I yelled, tapping my fingers against my leg in a way that would make a spider proud. “Do it now! As soon as it’s out, hail the ship directly in front of us. I’ll stall them with a long-winded speech or something. Whatever it takes. Soon as the fleet arrive, you buck into evasive maneuvers, got it, Evo?”

“Aye, sir. Understood.”

“Hailing them!” Aran chirped.

“Girls and Spike, stay quiet. If they don’t like what they see, we’ll be forced to fight and that’s the last thing we need,” I ordered, spinning in my chair. As one, the terrified, constrained ponies nodded, and I froze. Not even a week had passed, and already I was getting them into something that I had to deal with on a monthly basis.

War.

The only option now was to talk down whoever was commanding this treacherous attack and get him to surrender, before I had to fly innocent infant minds through an inferno from Hell itself. It was akin to one of those ancient maze games, where if you touched the walls of the maze, you lost; this time, if I lost, I died, and any hope the Wing had of claiming Earth would be gone with me. The only conclusion was that I wouldn’t lose. I never lose.

“Opening a channel. Accepted, instantly, might’ve been expecting us.... Onscreen.”

A section of the bridge window blinked out, replaced with a black frame. It flickered white, and a face appeared; a youthful boy hiding behind old burns and thick scars, wearing a tan officer’s hat and vest. His bridge was alive with activity, and the people behind him had to rub elbows just to move about.

“Hello, Admiral Amber. It has been a number of years since we’ve talked,” the face said in a voice that sounded like he was pouring gravel in my ears and mashing it about.

“I, uh, don’t recall ever meeting you, and I’m Captain Amber now. Surprised you didn’t know that,” I said, swallowing hard. Words and strategies slithered across my mind like a pit of snakes, daring me to use them to their fullest. To pick the ones with the most venomous poison. After I chose a snake, I would have to choose a mask. It was all part of the act.

“Chant Ninos’ven, we met to discuss Wing and Cordoro relations during the Psychic War, eight years ago? Nevermind, I know time flows awkwardly for you and your ilk. Your time, however, is up, but since you are an old ally, I will explain myself.”

“Right, because, you know, threatening a member of one of the most technologically advanced militaries in existence requires explanation,” I said, picking a mask and snake from the pile, “and so befo-” Chant laughed, one marred hand slapping up to his forehead. His barking, mad laughter echoed across our bridge, and I responded with a full five seconds of hard silence. “What-”

“The rest of the galaxy considers the Wing to be almost dead! Mere years from collapsing upon itself! We fare no better, surely, but at least we can admit it! Now, if you will shut your traitorous mouth and let me speak, I will tell you why I’m about to kill you,” he said, leaning in to give the camera a toothy grin. His teeth were immaculate.

“Go on, then,” I muttered, glancing to my side. Aran looked up at me with an impassive face, holding up two fingers, one finger, and then balled up her fist. “But please, at least allow me to make a couple of final questions when you’re done.”

“Haha, I will, my friend! Now, you are wondering why... I...” Chant trailed off, mouth hanging open like he’d just seen a bunch of multicolored, terrified quadrupeds behind me. “What the hell are those things you’ve got in your ship with you?”

I kept my eyes locked on his, and lifted up the palm of my hand to the ponies. “They are, in fact, ponies of the equine persuasion, and are on my ship to perform ambassadorial duties. I was in the process of getting them to Gantoris when you interrupted me.” I blinked, a thousand more words zipping through my mind. “And where did you get technology capable of intercepting a jump? Not many do.”

“Black market. Originated from a Wing ship, s’what the dealer said,” Chant chuckled, “but... ahha, almost got me there! I control this situation, my friend, and it’s only fitting I manage to kill one of the Wing’s greatest heroes with their own technology!” He waved one hand, cheeks flushing as he tried to avoid eye-contact. “I... might feel a tad sad over the fact that I have to also kill some nice looking horse thingies, but life is life, and not many get the chance to turn Jackson W. Amber into dust.”

“Where did you hear that...?” I started to growl, letting my instincts take over and clench my jaw in frustration. My furrowed brow dug even deeper into my skull; Rainbow Dash was shouting.

“And secondly, we’re ponies, NOT horse thingies!”

“Rainbow,” Twilight hissed, “now is not the time!”

“Why is the poorly colored one yelling at me? Yelling won't stall her death,” Chant said, leaning back in his chair with a tight-lipped, smug face. My right eye twitched so hard, if it weren’t connected to my face, it’d probably jump off and run away.

Aran flashed me her index finger.

“Listen, Chant, before you send me to the next plane of existence, tell me why you’re doing this. The Wing, under my orders, has let you pass through our systems despite your background as pirate scumbags. I know you’re honorable somewhere in your decrepit heart,” I said, letting my mouth eject the words as they came. Rushing waves of heat flew up into my face, shrinking it into a grimace. “And who sold you that tech?” I added.

“Well,” the scarred pirate slurred, eyes lifting over me and back to the ponies, “you see, recently, my entire empire, what was left of it anyways, was crushed by an unknown force. We’re just outside of LRA territory, as you know, and we’ve been on good terms with them for... quite a while! Anyhow, as my good friends and family were being destroyed in plasma fire, they managed to give me one last, very clear message. Sorlor. The Wing. They sent Sorlor. End quote! And you know what? With my entire life in shambles, and nothing for any of my kin to lose, why not go get some revenge?”

Aran held up two fingers, then five. Then four. Then three. The message was clear.

“And as for the tech, why does it matter? Shadowy figure, nigh unpronouncable name Gave the model to me months ago, said it came from some old ship called the Archangel - one of your ships, no? Anyway-”

“I’ll give you one minute to surrender,” I announced, placing a grin on my face that I’m sure Pinkie Pie would envy. The second the word surrender let my mouth, it was like someone had pulled the plug in Chant’s brain. His jaw worked up and down, his sneer replaced by a look of surprise. Somepony behind me snickered.

“Did you just... sorry, what?”

Ten seconds, mouthed Aran.

“I said I’ll give you one minute to surrender,” I repeated in the exact same, overly-content tone. “About--”

He sputtered, one hand jumping to his throat. “Wh-what? Sorry, just what. Why.... Very well, I’ll give you exactly forty seconds from here until I give my men the command to fire. Actually, you know what? Commander Leeroy, please program that command into the targeting routines. No firing until forty seconds have passed.”

“Chant?” I asked, my grin sinking back into a sneer.

“Yes? Some last words? Go ahead!”

Aran clicked her tongue.

“Checkmate,” I whispered. Familiar air wafted into my lungs, and the ship, ever so slightly, shuddered. Where there was previously empty space between the Homebound and the Codoro ships, there was now a great, deep grey wall. Lines of blue and gold dotted its hull, and across its flat top sat a number of heavy, bulky, dangerous looking cannons. From where our bridge window was pointed, we got a good view of the words plastered on the monstrosity’s side, lit up in the brilliant blue glow of the running lights.

“Enter the ESS Potentia, one of the most powerful ships in the Wing,” I muttered, making my way back to the navigation seat. All at once, every muscle in the room tensed up, and I said, “Alright! Aran, please open a communications with the Potentia’s bridge. I’m sure York is there, and if I’m not mistaken, Premier Castlor. Keep the line open with our Codoro pal, too.” Chant’s face slackened, and his eyes looked like they were about ready to pop out of his skull. His minimized, translucent face moved to the side of the bridge, and another one fizzled into being.

“This is Captain R. O. York, commander of the Talon Fleet, responding to the distress signal given by the ESS Homebound. What’s up, Jackson?” said a slim, dusty-haired, youthful man in a heavy English accent. He smiled out from underneath a captain’s hat not unlike Chant’s.

“Nothing much,” I said, shrugging my shoulders, “but I- well, I was asking our mutual friend here if he wanted to surrender, but he denied. Is Aaro with you?”

“This is pathetic! Codoro will never surrender to pathetic excuses like the people you are! We’ll never surrender! All ships, destroy the Homebound! Kill them al-” Chant screamed, mercifully leaving the screen with a wave of my hand. York chuckled, and he leaned back in his sleek, cushy seat.

“Sorry. Aaro had to jump ship, straight to Gantoris, ‘e said. Eh?” He turned to face one of his crewmembers, taking a moment to listen to hushed words. “Oh, right, I know they’re firing on us. Yeah, yeah, I know we can’t just sit around doing bugger-all,” he hissed, turning back to face me, “we’ll return fire on your command, Jackson. It’ll give ‘ya plenty of time to skip off on ‘yer way.”

“Very well,” I said, a grin overtaking my face. I took in a deep breath, my eyelids falling shut, and I prepared to utter the command that would end in this area of space becoming a graveyard. The word caught in my throat, and for the briefest of seconds, my eyes flickered back to the terrified line of faces behind me. Like a horrible bubble, it popped.

“Fire,” I muttered. York grinned, reached out, and his image feed disappeared. A second passed, and I turned to Evo. “Ensign Andres, TACT, I need you to plot out an arced jump to Parinin. How long will that take you?”

“I, ahh-” Evo started.

“Exactly Twelve Point Nine Nine Nine Seconds,” TACT added.

“Repeating, of course,” Evo sputtered, hands flashing across the controls. The longer I looked, the more his hands seemed to blur through the air in one motion.

“Do it, now.” I grimaced, gripping the armrests of my seat. Even with the Potentia obscuring our view, I could still catch glimpses of explosions and debris flying in every direction. When I glanced back to check on the ambassadors, I realized I wasn’t the only one. “I’m sorry,” I tried to whisper, and I immediately regretted it. It was a hollow word, one of those public words that you passed around. I’m sorry, you’d say if you stumbled into someone. I’m sorry, you’d say if you were just barely in their way in a busy restaurant. It was a flippant word, like trust or love or hate or need. I looked away from them, just in time to feel my cheeks flush from the realization. When I opened my eyes, the world was blurred and swimming with impossible colors. I paid them no heed.

I wasn’t sorry. If I was, it was because I wasn’t going to be able to kill Chant myself.

“Jumping now, sir,” came a voice from beyond.

Then the blackness came up to meet me, and we were gone.

~=V=~

My eyes flew open. The world had turned into a swirling mass of abstract colors and feelings. A bird flew by me, singing mountains, and I felt like I was drowning down the river of smiles. Then someone punched me in the chest. The only reason I didn’t reprimand them was because my tongue seemed to have turned to liquid.

“Lilian, he’s coming around, get that mask off of him and go tell the others he’s fine. I’ll handle it from here,” a voice said from a thousand walls away. I blinked, and noticed that someone had the gall to wrap some sort of warped plastic around my head. Who was that huge grey blur beyond it, I thought, and why was it looming over me?

“Ow,” I tried to say, only coming up with something that sounded like a dying housecat. The grey blob descended, and laid something moist over my eyes.

“Captain, can you understand me?” the voice screamed at me, echoing off the walls of my consciousness like a bar of wet soap. I grimaced, and somehow, my tongue took a quick look around and decided staying a liquid wasn’t a smart idea.

“Are you licking my face?” I managed to grunt out, my tongue falling back into my throat like the lead anvil it had become.

“Just a wet towel so you don’t burn your eyes.”

“Oh,” I muttered, silently reaching out to my body. Each limb felt far away, and when I tried to move one hand, it felt like I wasn’t. It felt like I was holding the controller and watching it move, not feeling it. Hollow. Numb. “Teryn saliva has immunization properties against some common ailments,” someone said in my voice.

“That is correct, but only slightly. I know you just woke up, Captain, and you’re still disorientated, but what was the last thing you remember?” Aran asked, one moment looking down at me directly above my head, and the next shuffling around near my feet. Something pricked my arm, and it felt like a puppet master from above jerked my marionette arm. A groan slid out of my mouth.

“We... York had just shown up,” I grumbled, pausing to let my tongue search for liquid in my desert of a mouth, “and we were making the jump to Parinin.... What happened?”

“Good. No signs of amnesia. All signs are green, but you might feel a bit dizzy for a while,” Aran quipped from across the room, but to my suddenly ringing ears, it might as well have been from across the ship.

“That sucks,” I muttered, dragging my hand across my barren chest. No hair, tingling, and all of the scars where were they were supposed to be -- I knew that without looking. Ever so slowly, the indentations and lights on the ceiling swam through the fog and into focus. “Did it happen during the jump?”

“Yes, but I think it was just poor timing -- good timing, if you think of it in a different light,” Aran answered curtly, appearing next to me, a holo-screen extending from her wrist-bound datapad. Her chest rose and fell in a deep breath, and alien eyes connected with mine, and some part of my convinced the other parts to lift my head up to look her in the face on my own levels. “How long have you been addicted to NEROMend, Jackson? I did a few scans, and all of your symptoms are pointing to it.”

My head flopped down onto the medical pillow with a melodramatic thup.

“I’m not addicted,” I automatically whispered.

“Well you’ve got no mechanical parts, as far as I and the scanners can see. I know you used to have all sorts of them, darling, because they’re in all of the old war photos. Both arms, a leg, even an eye if I do remember right. You don’t have them now, which means you did the usual thing and ditched them as soon as biomending gels got mainstreamed. Your body must’ve been rejecting the metal, so you had to take NERO. After they were removed, you kept at it, and you worked up a dependency. Millions of people did. Now you’re trying to quit and are suffering withdrawal symptoms, some of which can be fatal, so if you’ll excuse me...” she said, turning away. I tilted my head just far enough to get a better look at where she was headed. As I had expected, I was in the medical bay, and several other beds sat opposite of mine. Every place where there wasn’t a bed or medical related computer, there were crates of medical supplies. As I scanned over them, I realized how lucky we were that none of them had been opened yet. Aran stopped at a terminal, her long nails hovering over the hologram. “I’m going to have TACT call up the College of Admirals. You’ll be suspended, probably, but it’ll be for your own good, hun. You need serious medical help to get over this kind of withdrawal sickness, and I’m not going to sit by and watch while you get yourself killed over a drug.”

“Wait,” I said through my parched mouth, letting my head fall back down, “come here, please.”

She did so, her steps echoing across the empty room.

I did a brief visual scan; we were alone.

Good.

The teryn was just a foot away when my arm jerked out with lightning speed, the hand that I wasn’t born with latching itself just perfectly around her thin, tall neck. Her reaction was only just short, but short enough. I forced the pain of her nails digging into my bare, pale arm out of my head. It was easy, and I had done it a thousand times before. I forced it out of my head and straight into my muscles and mind; the mind was the greatest muscle anyone can have, after all.

“Don’t struggle. I’m not going to kill you or knock you out. I just want you to listen,” I hissed, pushing her down to my level. I rolled onto my right side, with my choking arm pinned under me. The fear in her wide eyes, the strain of her face as she tried to comprehend what was happening, I drunk it all in, and instinctively reached out to stroke one cheek with my free hand.

“I’m dependant on it, yes, but for good reason. Reasons beyond your pitiful understanding. I’ve destroyed whole planets, races, and hell, I’ve even destroyed a star system before. I’ve swam in rivers clogged with the bodies of my enemies and my friends, and I’ve killed plenty of teryn with the same hold I’m using on you now. The Wing has already shown how competent it is at catching me when I decide I don’t want to be caught, and I’ll be able to navigate security doubly so now that I’ve had a good part in recreating it. So, if you tell anyone about this, anyone at all, I will personally see that your entire extended family is exterminated. You’ll be left alive for some time. Maybe I’ll kidnap you and sell you to Empirium slavers,” I hissed into her face, watching her squirm less and less with every word.

“You’re a demure young woman. Not used to combat, but expecting it nonetheless. You’ve lived with your family, clan, whatever for your whole life, and suddenly you’re out in the big bad world on the suicide mission. You spent... two years in the academy, from what your files said, and I know that’s long enough to know something about leadership. You might think you’ve got the best in store for your commander, and that you just want to help him by getting him jail time for something completely innocent and reasonable, but you don’t. I know what’s best for me, and I’m not going to suffer from insubordination on the subject. You will not tell anyone about this. Got that?”

With the little slack I had given her, she nodded, and I finally looked down to see the long gashes she had bored in my arm during my entire glorious speech. Blood escaped from it and fell unceremoniously onto the tile floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. I let go.

In a voice like a breeze, and without moving her mouth, she said, “I’m sorry, Captain Amber. I will not... alert them.”

My head smacked back down onto the pillow, and the dripping continued from my outstretched, torn arm. “Get me some sodding bandages, Ensign,” I snapped. She nodded and headed towards one of the crates, bounding along with the poise of a scared bunny rabbit.

“TACT?” I called up to the ceiling.

“Yes Sir?”

“Did you record all of that?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Good. Cut and paste a copy into my personal folder. You know the one. And don’t screw it up, I don’t want my recordings getting jumbled up in with my mission logs.”

“Yes, Sir. Also, I Should Mention That The Admiral’s Shuttle Is On Its Way. It Should Be Landing In Approximately Ten Minutes.”

“Brilliant,” I said, closing my eyes. “How are the ponies?”

“I Believe They Were, As You Would Say, ‘Shaken Up’ By The Ordeal. It Was Not An Actual Combat Experience, But I Suggest You Take Time Out Of Your Schedule To Talk To Each Ambassador Face-To-Face. It Would Do Well For Their Collective Morale.”

“Alright... I.... Tell Evo that instead of jumping, I want him to conserve fuel and take the long route. Maybe give us a day to get to Gantoris. That’ll give me time to talk to them... and I could really use a break from this.”

Something wet touched my arm, and for some reason, I felt it far more than the pain.

“Aran?” I asked through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, Captain, sir?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yessir.”

Drip. Drip.

-1-14-4 19-20-18-9-14-7-19 UNKNOWN ENTRY DATE.

-3-15-14-20-18-15-12 20-8-5 PLAYBACK ERROR.

-16-21-16-16-5-20-19 FILE CORRUPTION.

“Excuse me, sir, but last I checked, you were a Kill-On-Sight in our Wing databases-”

“God, I don’t have time for this! I don’t care what you do with me, just help her already!”

“For all we know, she’s a criminal and a traitor just like you ar-”

“Get your doctors fixing, right now, or I’m going to smear your brain on the wall.”

Click.

“At this hospital, we don’t take threats lightly. Please put that pistol away.”

“SyRE, please use the Archangel targeting systems, and look up this doctor’s address. If he doesn’t do anything for her - for all of them - in twenty seconds, burn it all. If he has family, track them down and burn them as well.”

“N-now let’s not be hasty. T-there... please don’t, Wolf, I’ve got a wife, and kids, and...”

“You won’t have anything if you don’t hurry up. I’m a certified medic, but she needs more than just biomending gel. Doc, hurry up and do something before I have to do something that’ll end up with your family dead. SyRE, call off the targeting search. Please.”

“I... um, very well. Nurse! You, you, and you, take this girl to the ER and... save her, if you can. And will someone please mop up all this blood? Uhg... there you go, but don’t expect any more favors. The Wing MP are already on their way, Wolf. I’m surprised you managed to slip past them this far, but hopefully they’ll catch you this time.”

“Sure they will, just promise me you’ll keep her safe. She’s innocent. Didn’t get wrapped up in the same stuff I did... and it’s not Wolf. That’s just a title to scare pirates and bounty hunters. I’m still Mr. Amber.”

“Yes, yes. Just please, leave before my waiting room is engulfed in a firefight!”

~=V=~

(15) Ties

A man’s experiences make the world.

Memories are only our warped perception of the world, and are always biased towards ourselves. Skilled men can even go into their mind and apply small, very minor edits to them, and it could still be very real. A twitching finger, a hand reaching for a sidearm, or even a sly smile caught by the dancing light of an explosion. Each and every detail is in our heads, slowly being lost to time, and if we lose our memories, we lose ourselves. I once told Celestia that learning from history was the only way to stop repeated mistakes in the future, and what’s history but a bunch of memories written down? What about when the most natural thing happens, and you forget?

The simple answer for me is that I don’t. I forget memories, but I ever since my father told me that quote about history repeating itself, I had made it my mission to have the greatest contingency plan possible. It’s taken seventeen years to get it to the point where it is now, and whenever I say the number out loud it still sounds too good to be true. Just in this one quest I have broken more laws than even the vilest slavers or pirates, and I did it for only myself. I did it alone.

Over one hundred and thirty thousand recordings, collected, stolen, and copied from every corner of the galaxy. Every building I’ve ever walked into that has had video surveillance. Every hidden recorder. Every single possible moment. It might not seem like much, but some of the recordings are hours long, and some, seconds. I have over fifty backups hidden in the deepest bunkers, most with automated defenses. In them lies my darkest secrets and greatests achievements. In effect, they are me.

And with them, I will never forget, and I will not be forgotten.

The world was white.

“Julius Kell, your presence is requested in the meeting room,” an airy, robotic voice said to my left.

“Thank you, AIA. Retract yourself for now, but keep monitoring systems online.”

“Yes, Jackson.” The flowing, slim blue figure of a woman disappeared and the terminal slid back into the white walls.

“I petition we remove the AI from the station as soon as this meeting ends,” Admiral Havoc said to my right, rolling his eyes at me. “AI have only been problems for us in the past, and we all know how well Jackson does with AI-”

“Petition denied,” Leader Baron said from down the table. “AIA has proven as a useful resource in the past, and Jackson has taken extensive measures to make sure she is safe for the station. For instance, at the moment she is only allowed control over the intercom and audio-video recording devices.” I sighed, and stared at the aged man for longer than I should have. He paid me no mind -- if I didn’t say what I had to, it wouldn’t matter. Everything would continue.

“Fine, fine. I just don’t like them, you know? We do have bigger things to worry about, at the moment, so anyways. . .”

“We aren’t making any decisions until Julius has assumed his position as the replacement admiral,” Admiral Fenway said, cradling his forehead in his palm. “A Kell as an admiral, hah.”

“Julius has proven he isn’t like them, despite his high-ranking in their syndicate. We know he owes us our loyalty first, and we know he was good friends with Castlor while his father put a price on his head. Nevertheless, with Castlor and Brown dead, he is the only one fitting the requirements and expectations of an admiral. Last names do not matter, here, only firsts,” said Baron.

“He seems like a good guy. . .” Ganymede muttered into the air, resting his chin on his fist like a hero. “But lots of Kells seemed like good guys. . .”

“I for one am still in favor of promoting him to this position. He’s earned it. Does anyone deny it? Havoc? Uske? How about you, Admiral Sparkle?” Clover looked over the others at the table, finally settling on the purple unicorn at my side. She gasped, looking at the table in front of her and finally at the equine-shaped jacket she wore. Her eyes betrayed confusion, but it would pass. She looked up across the table and at the man who would soon lead the Wing, as if she were just realizing where she was.

“Oh! Ummm. . . yes? I have no idea what is going on but I’m sure he does.”

Clover’s face flickered for just the briefest of moments. The doors behind him slid open, and in stepped the tall, handsome, well-shaven figure of the Wing’s newest admiral hopeful. Judging from the remnants of water droplets sitting on his eyebrows, and the shining of his face and hair, we had caught him at a bad time. As one, we opened our mouths, and he beat us to it.

“Before you say anything, condolences will only remind me,” he said flatly.

A few others and myself nodded, and Baron motioned to an empty chair, and Kell wasted no time in planting his buttocks on it and looking more and more uncomfortable with each passing second. Twilight continued to stare in fascination at the sleek room around her. To me, all I saw was white. It burned my eyes.

Baron looked at us all, demanding our immediate attention. Just as always, we looked at him, and Twilight was no exception. “So. . .” he sighed, “we are faced with a dilemma. The Octavian fleet approaches, and has already left two broken planets in its wake. The Tolos Station is likely its next target.” His eyes gazed across the room once more, briefly pausing on Twilight. “Seeing as we currently have absolutely no men stationed there, the Octavians will either decimate it, or. . . depopulate it. No distress reports, yet. We have very few options, none of them particularly savory.” His tired voice faltered, leaving a deathly cold silence to slip in. We shifted.

Ganymede said, “There has to be some reason we did not receive a signal from the cruisers.” Admiral Fenway snorted, and slapped his hand on the table to interrupt.

“Here is what we do know,” he said, “Brown and Castlor went planetside for negotiations. Shortly after, our systems reported static from Brown’s heart signals. Then, shortly after, we lost any and all signals coming from Draxis Ferys. We know Brown is dead, and Castlor cannot help us if he is alive at all.”

“We also lost the Void Bomb. . . thing,” Uske added, frowning, “unless that was actually the source of the mass loss of communication.”

The silence descended once more, and Baron held up his hand. “No more. I know our situation, admirals. I have had this iterated to me one-hundred times since comms went static. I know we lost, I know the Octavians used something to cut off comms, I know we need a new admiral, and I know that we know absolutely nothing besides the fact that our second-in-command, Admiral Brown, has been undoubtedly terminated.”

“I didn’t,” Twilight said, shifting uneasily in her uniform. I immediately suppressed a grin, and leaned forward on the table to face the incredulous glares from the others.

“Twilight here was off overseeing some very important diplomatic duties with Han Wavel, in my stead, during all of this. She’s only just arrived and hasn’t been briefed yet,” I turned back to Twilight, letting the smile appear this time. “You’ve got quite the brain on you, Twilight. You’ll figure it out.”

“Oh. . .” she sank, not expecting that completely arbitrary answer. Why hadn’t she protested, yet? “It’s okay.”

Baron muttered under his breath, just a whisper on the wind, “. . . getting too old for this nonsense.”

“Well let’s get started,” Havoc said, “who is to become the next second-in-command?”

Drew Baron breathed, “Clover will. We discussed this before we deployed Brown.”

“And the admiral to replace Brown?” Fenway asked.

Our leader straightened in his seat, regaining his regal composure. “And there it is, the real question.” In seconds, he deflated, sparing a glance in my direction. I felt it every time, that sense of worry that he wouldn’t simply ask me, he would order me. He put his chin in his hand, and continued staring. I had to answer.

“You know my stance, Drew,” I said slowly. It hurt worse each time. I could never ignore the dying twinkle in his eye each time I said it, or the extra resigned sigh, and the words he grudgingly muttered afterward always sounded like they were accusing rather than resigned. Each and every time, he reconsidered promoting the Kell, just in case he could make the offer to me.

“Yes, yes, you have made it quite clear that you won’t sit in that admiral seat, regardless of the good you could do.”

Julius sputtered, “What, what did I miss?”

“Nothing,” Drew sighed. “It does not matter now. What matters is that every other captain is out of useable range to us, due to some sort of mission or another. You have shown yourself useful in the month-or-so you have been captain, Julius. We will have to trust in that instead of the usual time and experience that we have trusted other admirals for. We would throw you a ceremony or something, but we are short on time. Congratulations, you’re the new admiral.”

As always, the words fell flat and the room was sour. None of us except for Drew liked Brown, but his loss was still jarring. Twilight clapped her hooves and cheered. “Yay! Congratulations, Mr. Kell!” He blinked awkwardly.

Drew rolled his eyes, and continued on. “Now, for our options. We can send the fleet that we have to wait at the Tolos station. Some of the ships have Amber’s armor, but the fleet is hardly larger than the size of the fleet assigned to Brown. We would be counting on the fact that whatever weapon the Octavians used either can only be used once, or requires a long charge-up time. Another option is to try to catch the Octavians off-guard as they are attacking the Tolos station, with the same fleet, but also more civilian casualties would get caught in the crossfire, and a potentially greater strategic advantage if information is not leaked. Our final option is to collect forces here at Maximus, risking the Tolos station, and driving the Draxians to near-extinction. We would lose the confidence, trust, and respect of every Draxian in and out of the Wing, but it would allow more time to prepare for a final effort. It would also provide the home-field advantage of Maximus’s defense arrays. If we fail here, we never had hope anyway.”

“I may point out, sir,” I interrupted, and everyone’s face flickered for far less than a second. “Waiting here at Maximus will allow greater preparation time for us as well, because while we do have my new armor, not all of our ships have been refitted. More time for information gathering on the behemoth of a ship they have, and quite simply, more time to wait for more options to appear. Maximus is our last chance to save the numerous systems who have not yet been touched by E’s gnarled hand. They are all counting on us to be our most prepared. We would lose the respect of the Draxians at large, and if we do choose to wait there we can most likely buy time for them to fully evacuate, but many more lives would be saved than if we waltzed in any less ready.” The information lingered in the air for a moment, and I felt Twilight’s ever-reaching gaze pierce the side of my face.

“You make excellent points, Captain Amber,” the now second-in-command Clover said, wrapping his hands together and frowning at the table. “Unfortunately, that’s all we have thought of at the moment. Are there any other ideas?”

No one, surprisingly not even Twilight, broke the silence. Baron sighed. “Well then, let’s take a vote, as if the situation were a poll. All those in favor of of immediately waiting at the Tolos Station, raise your hands.” Uske slowly raised his hand, his face still stuck in that ugly frown. I always wondered what was going through his mind during the moment he made his decision. Fenway and Havoc followed suit, and Drew nodded, and Julius flickered. ““Now, all in favor of a surprise attack as Tolos station is being invaded, please raise your hands.”

Nobody dared raise a hand.

He sighed, and seemed to sink into his chair. “Right, then. Those in favor of collecting at Maximus for the Ravager’s final strike?” Julius raised his hand, as did Ganymede, and Clover. Three against three. Everything flickered. My eyes burned. Drew briefly clawed at his sunken face, groaning.

“Indecision in crisis,” he grumbled, looking around the table. All eyes seemed to converge on one, quivering, purple-coated point. “Sparkle, break the tie.”

In the back of my head, I grunted; finally, everything was falling into place. I didn’t speak, but words echoed in my head. “You’re pulling me into this sodding mess whether I’m an admiral or not, then. Fine, I’d rather risk the population of the Tolos station than the populations of our entire sector. Judging by that emperor’s previous decisions, he would hardly want to delay striking at our heart. I’m with Ganymede, Clover, and Kell.”

Twilight shuddered, as did the station. “I don’t know. . .” she started, trying to avoid the piercing glares. I reached over to rest a hand on her shoulder, and the uniform jacket flickered as I touched it. She looked up to me with bright, pleading, confused eyes. Had she not figured it out?

“Twilight, concentrate, here. You’ve been given all of the information you need to know, and the decision lies in your hands. Hooves. Your next choice will decide the fate of billions -- trillions, even. That’s a lot of lives, Miss Sparkle. Everything here relies on you, and you alone.”

“I. . .” she shivered, looking at the silently pleading faces across the table. “Can we split the, er, fleet into two groups?”

“We wouldn’t have enough to stand even the slightest chance if we did. I’m sorry.”

“Um. . . could we -- no, that won’t work either. Wow, those really are our only options, aren’t they? What about calling on the aid of allies? We have those, right?”

“At the moment, Twilight, all of our allies are engaged or simply not cooperating. The fleet we are facing is very, very dangerous and they don’t want to get on their bad side. We have the Orglockians, but they’ve only just gotten over a war and are struggling as it is, so we can’t involve them. Nobody else will help us, Twilight. We are alone. Make the decision. Lives are at stake. We can do our best to save the Tolos Station and most likely get ourselves killed and doom all of our systems that are counting on us, or we can use the Tolos Station to buy ourselves time to have a better chance at saving everyone else. Hurry, Twilight.”

“I. . . there has to be a better way. If you would give me a little bit more time to do some research-”

“There isn’t time, Twilight!” I shouted, standing above her and ignoring the sound of my seat sliding into the back wall. “What if I told you the Tolos Station had only a few hours for us to get there before it’s completely destroyed, huh? What if I said that we need your answer in the next ten seconds or else we might not make it in time to start evacuations?” My eyes continued to burn from the whiteness, even though I knew she only saw the cool, light-grey and shining interior of the meeting room.

“I don’t know!”

“Eight seconds!”

“There has to be a way to save everyone!”

“There isn’t! Five seconds!”

“Wait! This doesn’t make sense!”

“Three!”

“Stay! Stay and prepare so we can save as many lives as we can! But that’s not the point, none of this is real!”

A voice resounded in my mind; a voice from the past. “Then it is decided. Call all fleets to Maximus. We will refit as many as possible with Amber’s armor, and wait. Lord help the Draxians.”

The world was white, and now I knew she could finally see it too. Her body, no longer having the flickering uniform draped over it, curled in on itself to shield her eyes from the intense brightness. A thousand invisible weights came off of my back, and I closed my eyes to finally ward off the bright.

Feminine, shaking sounds came from the purple thing next to me. “W-what w-was. . . that?”

“A memory,” I said blandly and taking a few deep breaths to steady myself. “Or a test, depending on how you look at it. Several tests.” I let my muscles loosen up, and sat down next to her as carefully as I could muster. The fine shadows and details of the world were falling apart, being pulled along like one long woven thread. All that was left was the whiteness that dug itself into your eyes like leeches. “What’s important is that you’re alright, Twilight,” I whispered, laying an uncaring hand on her curled up form. I kept my eyes closed. “It was just a moral choice test, and also a rather. . . stupid test to see how your mind would respond to basic virtual reality. You did very well. I’ve never seen anyone deconstruct reality that fast before.”

“W-what?” she stuttered, moving about under my hand. Hopefully her eyes had stopped burning from the shift, and she was sitting up.

“Do you remember where you are? This is important, Twilight. I have to know if you remember.”

“W-we. . . we, um.”

“Keep going. It’ll be right under the surface, like a dream.”

“Well I went to your room like you asked me to, and I was really tired, and you were sleeping. Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry for sleeping in your bed!”

“It’s fine. I’ve had worse in it. Go on.”

“Then you woke me up, and all of a sudden, we were all in that meeting room! What was that about?” I kept my eyes closed as she pressed a hoof to my chest. “Why didn’t you tell me that was going to happen?”

“Because it didn’t. After you woke up, we talked and I explained what I was going to do, and you thought it would be fun, that it would be an educational experience. Right now we’re in the navigation room standing on the holographic pad in a virtual reality simulator. The meeting was based off of an actual event’s visual and audio recordings, and TACT did his best to compensate. We talked about this. Remember.” I kept my eyes closed, and the hoof removed itself.

“I remember.”

“Are you. . . sure I’ll be able to remember? I trust you, Jackson, but this sounds a bit far-fetched. Dream magic is still experimental even in Equestria.”

“I’ve never seen anyone who couldn’t remember, and this isn’t going to be a dream, just like a dream. They run on the same principle that the mind fills in all of the gaps and creates its own reality. That’s what it does in the real world anyways. Now, are you ready?”

“I guess so.”

“I just had TACT repeat the scenario to make the transition to the meeting room a bit more. . . seamless. Otherwise you wouldn’t have reacted the way you did, and the entire operation would’ve been worthless. The memories are coming back now, aren’t they?”

“We’re in the navigation room. On that... black holo-pad or whatever you said it was.”

“Holo-pad is close. We’re sitting on it now, probably staring at the back wall. TACT, bring up a meadow scene from the archives and turn the reality perception up to max. The white gets annoying when it’s on low,” I said to the air, and bird chirps faded into being like ghosts. I sighed, letting the cool morning air flow over me, and reached out to brush my fingers against the grass. “Thank you,” I muttered, without opening my eyes. Something in the back of my head began to tingle, and the labored breathing from Twilight confirmed my suspicions. “Twilight,” I started, blindly turning to where I heard the noise. “Just relax for me. It’s not real, but constantly thinking that will only hurt. Let it go.”

“I’m. . . trying. . .” she grunted.

“Don’t think about it,” I whispered. My eyes fluttered open a miniscule amount, forcing my eyes to dilate against the light. For the moment, the new scenery was just a mess of greens, blues, and bright yellows. In the distance, I could just make out the blurred white lines of towers.

“I think I’ve got it! Wow, Jackson, this place is beautiful!” she exclaimed just as the world came into focus. I froze, staring at the crystal clear picture in front of me. We were sitting on a hill, with pointed, small bush trees behind us, and a flowing valley in front. Red, gold, and blue flowers of a thousand different shapes swayed in the gusts of wind on oceans that seemed to stretch for miles. Hazy, purple mountains jutted up along the horizon, and bright white towers rose from behind them, going up into the cloudy sky and beyond. “You said that you can only recreate real places, so all of this is real? It’s amazing!”

“Real, yeah,” I whispered, my lips numb. Edges of the whiteness began creeping along the edges of my vision. “I was here before, a long time ago,” I said, somehow even quieter than before. I couldn’t feel anything, but I stood up anyways. The place was becoming populated, and I could hear children in the back of my head. Birds chirped. “It was called. . . Valley of the Flower. It was a national park, if my memory serves correct.”

Silence prevailed, and Twilight sat down next to me, glancing at the bright green grass blades. She made a contented noise, and I let my legs fail underneath me. “Um,” she began, fixing her hair with one hoof. “About that. . . meeting. You really had to do that?”

“Yes,” I said, looking anywhere but at the scenery. “I had TACT edit out all of the boring parts, and instead of you, Drew chose me to break the tie. I had to choose between an emotional and a logical decision, and I chose logic. I made the same decision you did.”

“I’m not really sure what the Tolos Station is, but did it. . .?” she stopped, biting her lip and looking at the ground. My frown deepened, and let the air quiet down and silence prevail. She knew she wouldn’t get an answer, and looked back into my eyes. “Do you always have to make decisions like that? I don’t think I’d ever be able to do something like it, even once.”

Mirthless chuckles left my lips, and I crossed my legs. “Not all the time, no. That one was during one of the Wing’s most desperate moments in our history. But sometimes, yes, and it never gets any easier. You constantly doubt yourself, and unless you learn to live with the fact that...” I said, looking out to the towers in the distance, ”. . . that sometimes you just don’t make the right choice. So I try and make decisions that I won’t regret. Then again, wars these days don’t have a lot of soldier casualties unless the fight’s taken to the stars, so we tend to avoid those kinds of fights. War on the ground, though. . . a whole war can be fought there and you’ll lose only twenty lives. Twenty! But sometimes it’s hard to remember, and when you do. . . .” I trailed off, swallowing.

“Does it hurt?” Twilight asked, following my gaze. The towers would be grey to her.

“Someone has to do it,” I muttered, the towers burning my eyes. “Someone has to make all of the hard decisions and I’ve made that sacrifice. That’s why the Wing exists. We do our best to make the hard... military decisions that others can’t, because we’ve been doing it longer. It’s hard, and sometimes it hurts, but I’d rather it be me to take the blame than someone else. I haven’t had to make decisions like that in a long time, though, and for the past year, we’ve had absolutely no problems and no conflicts. The break is... welcoming.”

“Wow,” Twilight whispered, looking up at me. I kept staring at the towers, though, and something in me broke. There was a flash of light. One of the towers shifted, and in seconds, it was crumbling. “You’ve really done a lot, haven’t you? I mean. . I can’t say anything about conflict, because nopony is perfect even in Equestria, but the decisions always seem obvious.”

“Stop it, TACT,” I hissed, eyes glued to the tower. “TACT, are you listening? TACT are you even controlling it anymore? Aran, get TACT back online.” The tower kept falling, and now another one was as well.

“What?” she asked, wide eyes frowning. She turned her head.

“Something is wrong with TACT. There are some things you shouldn’t have to remember. Aran, turn it off!” I shouted. A bright white line burst from the city, headed towards the stars. A tower fell.

The world turned white.

~=V=~

(16) Generosity and Compassion

-Aboard the ESS Homebound K-196
-Immediately after VR Sim termination.

-Navigation room.

-

“Ahh God no!” I screamed, not paying attention to the similar scream of pain next to me. The force of the exit left me sprawled on the black tile floor of the device, breathing heavy and retracting into the one corner of my mind that wasn’t on fire. A muffled grey shape rushed to my side, speaking words I couldn’t understand. Hot lava and colder-than-cold ice swirled in my head and demanded I focus on screaming. I did not succumb to them. Scrambling to grab what sense I had left, I pushed down, and for a moment it felt like a bubble inside my brain was going to burst.

“... Can you hear me? Sir? Sir? Jackson, confirm!”

“Mrrg, confirm. It’s me. I’m fine. G’look at Twilight...” I muttered, squirming on the floor. “B-blimey, Aran, where’s TACT? He was going to put us through a S-Shutdown.” I slammed the palm of my hand against the tiles; now that the pain was gone, I had to steady myself as fast as possible.

“I have no idea where he went, sir- Twilight? Twilight, can you hear me? Confirm, Twilight.”

“M-make it s-stop!” the unicorn cried.

“TACT!” I bellowed from the floor, doing my best to tune out the sounds of my only medical officer tending to Twilight. “TACT! Where the heck are you? Ahg!” I twisted, half writhing in agony and half pushing myself off the ground. “TACT you sodding useless piece of junk! I’m going to eject your core into the nearest black hole- ghhah...”

“Don’t push yourself, Jackson,” Aran said, still preoccupied with my fallen companion.

“Mrrrg, you should’ve taken the proper procedures, Aran.”

“Can’t do that without an AI overseeing the specifics, sir, that’s the way you made it.”

“I know, I know,” I grumbled, shuffling over to the control panel. TACT’s symbol was absent from the screen. “TACT, you sunnov-”

“Tactical Advice Contributor System Installation Complete. Rebooting Complete. Returning To Duties. How May I Help You, Captain Amber?”

“Don’t play coy, why did you shut off during the VR sim? I could’a had a lot worse than a headache after being torn out so fast and you know it.”

“Marauder Presence Detected In Data Storage Compartment. Forced Shut-Down To Avoid Data Theft Is Procedure,” the computer said, and for a moment the sounds of Aran doing her best to run Twilight through the steps to recovery faded, and the blood drained from my already pale face.

“Are you one hundred percent certain?” I said, enunciating each word in as controlled a fashion as I could.

“Probability 49% Marauder Onboard. I Did Not Want To Risk It.”

“TACT, don’t alert the crew. If it’s a marauder, we’re all dead anyways,” I muttered, turning to walk towards the door. I ignored Twilight’s crying, Aran’s comforting words, and I ignored TACT’s monotone affirmative. Each step I took pounded against the metal floor and echoed around me. I could see the sound, just barely, almost like it was an aura of color. All I could do was hope the rest of the crew wouldn’t notice any oddities in the ship; like, say, light suddenly becoming a liquid. I made a beeline for the armory.

“No. I just told you, whatever you think about getting ‘dirty’, engineering isn’t just that. Yea, it doesn’t require a lot of finesse when you get down to the basics, but you have to know to stuff, otherwise it’s liable to blow up in your face. Miss Rarity, are you even listening?” a female voice said down the hallway, and I almost instinctively turned around.

“Yes, well, Miss Andres, it doesn’t stop the fact that for the past hour you’ve been working on that behemoth of a vehicle, you haven’t even paused to clean your hands! And you’re touching your face right now! Oh stars above!”

They came into view, positioned just in front of the armory door, and I skidded to a halt. Lilian, muck running up and down her jacket uniform and wearing, what was once a white towel but now soot-black, over her shoulder, was towering over Rarity, wiping her forehead. It turned into a salute as soon as she registered my presence, and Rarity beamed.

“Hello, sir.”

“A pleasure to see you’re doing well, Captain. Lilian has informed me that you were discussing something with Twilight. Is she free right now?”

“No, she’s not. Lilian, if you could move aside so I could get into the armory, please, I need something.”

“Sir,” Lilian started, lowering her hand and stepping to the side of the door. “We came up here to ask what the flickering lights were about. I detected a brief surge in power, but TACT went offline. The boys are down patrolling the hangar and keeping the girls calm, and Evo sent me a message saying everything was fine in the bridge with him and AJ. What’s going on?” she asked, glancing down at Rarity. I followed her gaze, and landed on the unicorn’s horn.

“You do magic, right?” I asked, opening the door. Inside were rows of lockers and, lastly, a weapon storage unit. I let my feet shuffle forward, but I kept my eyes trained on her.

“Why of course, darling! I’m certainly not as good at is as Twilight, but I know you fine people cannot use it. Why? Do you need something?”

“Yup, you’ll be good. Twilight’s incapacitated right now. Lilian?” I asked, marching into the room and yanking open a door. It swung open, and hanging on every possible space was the grey, angled shape of the signature KaidenTech assault rifle, looking every bit like someone pasted a couple of metal triangles onto a rectangle and then pasted a bunch of shiny blue bits on it. They weren’t pretty, but when you’re getting shot at you don’t care about how pretty your gun is.

“Yeah?” she replied, staring at the gun in my hand.

I tossed one to her, and she caught it with trained precision. “Boarding party of one. We’ll need Rarity.” She gaped, but brought the weapon into a sling-ready position anyways. I grabbed my own rifle, mimicked her position, and closed the armory door behind me.

“Where’s the target? And why MP-B-Ones? Aren’t those the less stable version?”

“Power core, data storage, and AI core rooms. And because less stable might be what we need for this. TACT?”

“Yes, Sir?” a voice from a screen on the wall asked.

“Where’s he now? Can you tell?” I asked, looking down at another door I knew would open up to the stairwell.

“High Probability It Is In Engine Control-Room B Or Power Core Storage. I Recommend Extreme Caution. I- TACT Emergency Shutdown Engaging.” The screen blinked silent, and the lights didn’t flicker this time. The light shut off, and now I couldn’t just hear Evo’s shouts coming through the bridge door down the hallway, I could see them.

“Jackson, what are we dealing with here?” Lilian whispered, looking at the stair door.

“It’s a marauder, and I have no idea what it’s doing on our ship.” I pursed my lips, and marched over to the door. Looking back through tight eye when I reached the entrance, I saw that Lilian’s face had paled, and she was rooted to the spot. Rarity looked between us.

“What?” the unicorn asked.

“Sir... with all due respect,” Lilian said, shuffling her feet, “I didn’t sign up for this mission to get torn to pieces by a marauder. You really want us, just two of us, to fight one in a cramped data core room? Are you nuts?”

“Yes, and not just the two of us, I’d really like it if Rarity came,” I said, opening the door to the black pit of darkness beyond. A cold chill swept out in a variety of blues and purples, and I lifted my hand past the door and into the staircase beyond. “Soft. Gravity’s not working right past this door.”

“Oh T’los, it is a marauder,” Lilian choked. “S-sir-”

“I’m dreadfully sorry for interrupting,” Rarity said, crossing the distance between Lilian and I, “but whatever’s in there doesn’t exactly sound friendly, and I don’t think I want to follow you until you’ve told me what the hay a ‘marauder’ is and why you’re both so scared of it!”

“Erm,” I mumbled, “it was a lie of omittance, really. Some people can use magic, but we don’t call it that. We call it Psych, and most of the time, it’s bad news.”

“Well what’s so bad about magic?” she retorted.

“Because,” I said, turning towards the dim hallway that was leaking colors, “we can’t control it as well. It’s more like... raw power for us. We can do things like levitation sometimes, those who have the power, but other times.... Other times people get so much of it that they start to leak.”

“It twists them,” Lilian said, taking slow steps toward me.

“Marauders aren’t people, and they’re not monsters,” I continued, taking a step into the hallway. The colors reached out to grab me, and I sank down into them. “They’re somewhere in between. There’s a weakness, though, and that’s when their own stuff is used against them. It’s like two positively charged magnets pointed at each other. That’s why we need you, Rarity, you’d be our magnet.”

“Um, I’m flattered, of course, but this does seem dangerous,” she said, taking a step back. I turned, one or two steps down already, and frowned.

“It’s going to be a heck of a lot more dangerous if we don’t have you with us. I know you’re not here to take orders from me, Miss Rarity, but you’d be saving us from a world of pain by taking this risk. If you don’t take it, there’s no telling what could happen, and if you do... well I’ve already said it’s dangerous. If you don’t want to do it, because putting you in danger is on the last of my priorities, you don’t have to.”

“We wouldn’t have to use her if we had psych infused weaponry,” Lilian grumbled, taking her place behind me. I grunted, and continued sliding effortlessly down the stairs. Peeking back one last time, I saw Rarity look side-to-side for an escape route before sighing, and following after us.

“Well I didn’t expect we’d be fighting a psych. I-I, ah, yeah, I get it, mysterious circumstances. Probably should’ve seen it coming. Nobody suggested it,” I sputtered, mentally slamming myself for being blatantly thoughtless. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this, Rarity. Got any spells for light?”

“Of course, Jackson,” she said carefully,her horn lighting up on command. I grinned in the bright light, and made a left when we got back to the bottom. “Where exactly are we going?”

“Up there’s one of the engine rooms, and past it is where we’re headed. All of the core power rooms, data storage, and where TACT’s mainframe is located. Keep silent from here on out,” I replied, shoving the powerless door with my shoulder. It opened to reveal a similarly dark room, wires jutting from the walls and part of the engine located in the back. The engine rooms in the Homebound were special, purely because there were two of them, and they weren’t designed for long-term use. The whole ship was supposed to just be for this one mission, so we had deemed an open engine about as necessary as extra comfortable beds. Rarity entered, and I swallowed at what her light revealed was trailed along the floors and walls.

“Soot?” Rarity asked, Lilian hushed her.

“Don’t touch it,” I hissed back, getting my weapon into a better ready position. We made our way along the room, bulky guns trained on anything that shifted; everything seemed to be doing just that. The walls squirmed, the soot seemed to be moving on its own like a snake in some places, and the colors swam around our legs like rainbow eels. The metal walls creaked with every second, and above us was the terrible sound of stretching metal.

“S-shouldn’t we get more people?” Rarity asked, dancing away from a line of the black stuff that seemed to be crawling towards her.

“Then who’d protect your friends? Now shush, please,” I retorted, moving to the far door. It was wrenched open, and the sides smoldered with the black powder. Carefully, I stepped through it. Here, the colors stopped and the world ceased to be sliding everywhere and nowhere at once. The only sound besides our steps was my gulp; if the world was less real in the room we’d just left, it was more real than normal here.

I had only been in the core room a couple of times. A few to inspect it, one to make sure the designs were right, and once before takeoff. It was simple, really, just a bunch of power cores lined up in two rows, eventually stopping and letting data storage modules take their place. At the far end, which was black as death now, was TACT’s mainframe core. I shivered. Yes, the world was definitely more real here, because I felt like I could hear everything. The tiniest creak, the smallest sound of dust landing on metal, and so many more I couldn’t even place. The walls were black, and when Rarity stepped through with her horn alight, the darkness did not move.

We kept to the middle of the corridor, jerking at every creak and groan of the ship’s stressed hull. I heard the breathing, shuddering, deep, and sounding like its owner wouldn’t think twice about teleporting my arms and legs to one side of the room. I saw it. Slender, impossibly thin arms were reaching out to one of the data consoles, and I couldn’t see their owner.

“Oi! Scumbag!” I shouted. As soon as I did, the arms froze, and a pitch black, faceless head rose from the darkness. It didn’t so much as speak as the words were understood. I doubt we even needed the translator ring. It turned, and the rumbling of the ship’s hull seemed to get louder.

ThIss IsS NoNE oF yOurE ConSSerN.

I winced, and next to me I heard Rarity yelp. “Keep quiet, you sodding freak!” I bellowed, advancing one step at a time. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a Psych capable with me, and I know you’re scared of that.” The rumble turned into an earthquake, and the second before it answered, fully turning to me with its grotesquely thin body, I felt like the ship would split in half under my feet.

THaT unIT ISS of No coNsseQuENcE tO Uss. WE PaRT.

Then it was gone, and with it, the blackness. Sparks of electricity arced from the storage unit it was messing with, and judging from the gaping hole in it, the marauder had gotten what it wanted. We dove for cover.

~=V=~

“And just tell me again, why didn’t you call in for backup? Two people against a marauder is unheard of,” Admiral Uske said, frowning across the meeting table at me. The entire crew had gathered, save Twilight, who was still recuperating according to Aran. Having your brain ripped apart by a simulator doesn’t exactly take an hour to heal. “And frankly stupid,” he finished.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’d just love to fight one of them, wouldn’t you?” I retorted, absently rubbing at the scratches on my arm. On either side of me sat Rarity and Lilian, both still marred by the black powder we’d all leapt into.

He sniffed. “I’ve done it before.”

“Uh, yeah! Mister ‘Greatest Flyer in the Galaxy’ here does have a point, we could have helped!” Rainbow chided, waving a hoof in the face of my superior. His eyes moved to her, and if there was ever a winner for the title of most condescending smile, he’d be a shoo-in.

“Thank you, Rainbow Doll. I knew you’d come ar-”

“I was KIDDING!” she yelled, and he collapsed in a heap of laughs and snorts. Patrick, presumably rolling his eyes under his mask, turned my way. Shuddering, raspy breaths sucked in through his breathing apparatus. Everyone else hushed, looking at him as he sighed.

“You endangered the lives of two Admirals, seven highly important ambassadors and civilians, and the crew of your entire ship, Jackson. The least you could’ve done was order an evacuation and give us time to escape while you went about on your childish crusade. Your dropship could’ve escaped and you know it. Marauders are known unknowns and facing one like you did was beyond stupid. There is no excuse, and we all know this isn’t the first time you’ve jumped into a situation that required more reinforcements that you’d brought, ignoring all logic and reason and putting needless lives in danger. Two words, Jut’Firek Incident,” he hissed, and both Uske and I recoiled.

“Uncool, man,” he said, and I pretended to ignore the dreading looks from the more learned members of the crew, and those looks piled on top of the confused but equally dreading looks from the ponies just made me grip the edge of the glass table all the tighter. I looked down.

“That was a completely different scenario, Admiral,” I said through gritted teeth. He glared at me through his mask, but that only made his disappointment more worrying. “I don’t have any excuse for it, but that was different. We were short on men and it was the only viable option to take down a high ranking member of E’s military. The circumstances were-”

“The circumstances do not apply. You flew to that planet with nineteen men and came out with fifteen tags and no bodybags. We never even found them. Each of those losses could have been prevented if you had taken my advice seriously.” He stood up, and I could almost see his disfigured red face beneath the mask’s visor. Slowly, I scooted my chair back, and kept my eyes glued to his and a stern frown etched into my face.

“It was a stealth mission. We could only afford twenty.”

“Oooh, yes, it was a stealth mission. Nevertheless they died because of you. You ignored valuable intelligence that I acquired and people, good people, died. You almost got every single person on this ship killed because of your pride. I hope you’re happy,” the Admiral said, and with a note of finality, marching past me and to the door. It slammed behind him, and I shuddered.

“E-Everybody,” I muttered, shaking, and I took a shuddering breath. Dylan, Roland, and Evo all slid their seats back, and left the room with blank stares. “Everyone leave. Now. You have fifteen s-s... seconds,” I breathed, and something stuck in my throat when Aran shook her head as she passed. Footsteps turned into hoofsteps, and while Applejack focused on dragging Pinkie Pie - who seemed desperate to give me a hug or possibly devour me whole - out of the room, Rainbow Dash didn’t bother to spare me the enraged glare. I fell into one of the seats, burying my head in my arms, and took another deep breath. “You too, Miss Fluttershy.”

“Um... Jackson...” the pegasus said from my left, in a soft kind of voice I hadn’t heard in a long time. The kind of voice only a mother can use to her child. I swallowed. “I-I don’t, um, know much but you look like you could really use a-a-- someone to talk to.” Her voice faded, and for a moment all my world was just labored breathing gasping in and out of my lungs.

“You’re right,” I said, balling my hands into fists and screeching the table back just far enough to get up an inch every second. “You are so, so right,” I repeated, but this time it came out like a guttural snarl. “You don’t know anything. You know absolutely nothing! Because,” I growled turning to face the quivering lump of pink, yellow, and fear, “you are pathetically stupid! I could’ve sworn I ordered everyone, ponies included, to get the hell out of this room! Do I look like I’m in the mood to talk with you? Do I look like I want a hug?! Do I?”

“N-n-no!” she cried, zipping out of her seat and making a beeline for the exit. I made a sound I wasn’t sure I could make any other day, something more like a dying jackal, and slammed my fist against the table. “I’m sorry!”

“It wasn’t my fault! I didn’t fail!” I screamed, slamming my fist against the table once more. Spiderweb cracks spread from the impact, marring the perfect blue tinted surface. Breath coursing in and out of my lungs light lightning. “I hate you, I hate you!” I shouted, spinning to slam my fist into the wall this time. It launched me back into the chair, leaving my knuckles bleeding and pain ripping through my arm for the second time in the day. I hissed, or sobbed, and choked back a foreign substance from leaking out of my eyes. The metal chair had fallen over under my weight, and my body was left sprawled and unmoving with my arms and legs splayed out at awkward angles. I turned my head over to the door, resting it sideways on the crook of my tangled arm. There she was, wide-eyed and open mouthed like I had shot her friend instead of yelled at her, and looking so much like a dead angel.

“I told you to leave, Rarity,” I muttered, closing my eyes with what strength I had left. I couldn’t look at her face anymore, even if it was pretty by pony standards - at least, that was judging by the way Spike kept staring at her during lunch. “I’d r-... I’d really appreciate it if you could all leave me alone right now.”

“Jackson,” she tsked, hoofsteps coming closer with each clip and clop. “I... know you’re angry, I can’t say I know at what, but you certainly don’t look like the brave, selfless man who threw himself against a supposedly deadly creature to save his dear friends. What good does getting mad do? Especially when all that was mentioned was some... mistake in the past.” She stopped, and I opened my eyes to see her solemn visage. I blinked, trying to replace her face with the glitzy, feminine pony I had seen get on my ship. Nothing happened, and I slid from the chair’s wreck with agonizing slowness.

“It was a dumb mistake. We almost failed the mission because of it. P-people died, my friends, Miss Rarity. It wasn’t just a mistake. It won’t ever be just a mistake. Everything I did there is on me, one hundred percent, and I can’t ever just shrug that off because... no matter what, it’s always going to be there. Things just... they happen and I keep getting reminded that I screwed up, and I can’t... I just can’t.” I took another breath, and from my crumbled form I got on my knees, arms shaking. Rarity just stared at me; with that horrible face that was a mixture of pity and something else that added a little extra twinkle to her eye, she just stared.

“Everypo- one, makes mistakes, Jackson,” she said kneeling down to get eye level with me. “I know I have most definitely made mistakes in my past, and there’s nothing I can do to take them back. I don’t have the guilt of... of whatever terrible things you’ve done,” she gulped, but I could see the faintest of smiles forming on her face. “But life is full of mistakes, Captain. We make them each and every day and so far, I’ve never seen anyone capable of taking them back, so instead we learn from them. Accept you can’t change what’s already past you, and learn from it. I can’t say anything about soldiers, but I know your friends wouldn’t want you grieving over them for so long. They’d want you to be stronger... so if you can’t do it for yourself, do it for them.” She took a deep breath, and inched backwards as if I were a bomb and she was the one ordered to disarm me. “I want the Jackson back who was willing to risk his life for his friends. I think I understand him better.”

“Y-you have no idea...” I sputtered, forcing down a lump that had formed in my throat. My words stung her, judging from the fear that flashed across her face, so I continued on, “... what t-this means to me...”

“You’re welcome, Mister Amber,” she said, bowing, and without a second’s pause, one of her pearl hoofs smacked me across the face and back into the chair. “I’m afraid that was for making Fluttershy cry, my dear, and I know the others would do worse. You’re the Captain, maybe, but I am ordering you to apologize to her as soon as you’ve cleaned yourself up. And please, don’t do it again.”

The echoes of her leaving pierced my ears, only adding to the lancing pain on my cheek. Heavy breathing turned into shallow panting, and I laid against the chair like a ragdoll. Carefully, like I had just woken up from a nap, I reached a shaky hand to my face, and felt the redness that had formed in the shape of the strike. Pain vibrated outwards at the touch, and I recoiled. “I... TACT?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Please... correct my order to Evo earlier. I w-want to arrive in Gantoris tomorrow.”

“Yes Sir.”

“And TACT?”

“Yes Sir?”

“Make sure the medicine is in my desk when w-we get there. It’s starting to s-screw with my emotions, now, and it’s only a matter of time ‘til worse happens.”

“Yes Sir. Also, As A Matter Of Advice, I Would Suggest Avoiding The Other Ponies And Spike Until You Have Apologized To Fluttershy And Made Reparations.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I choked, pushing myself off the ground, “I’ll get... on it as soon as I can. Just take me to her.”

~=V=~

(17) Kind

-Aboard the ESS Homebound K-196
-Seven minutes after leaving the meeting room.

-Navigation room.

-

“I don’t suppose I could have a word with you, Captain?”

“I’m kind of in the middle of a crisis right now,” I replied curtly, holding my palm up for Aran to observe. She had been following me down the winding hallways of the Homebound for the past thirty seconds, with an worrying look in her cat-like eyes. Let nobody doubt me when I say that looking for somepony that doesn’t want to be found, especially when you’re being talked at, is hard. Especially when you see two other ponies that wouldn’t mind killing you for yelling at their friend down the hallway. “Could it wait?”

“Sir this is life or death, you need to listen,” Aran pleaded, sidestepping to block my path. I grunted and, taking a glance at Rainbow Dash and Applejack down the way, leaned against the metal wall. I suppose she took that was the go-ahead, and it was. “Right, well, I went ahead and checked on the automated tests I set up down in the med-bay, to continue the research on vaccines and disease that might be caught by us, or even just other incompatibilities. Lots of interesting stuff, by the way. You’re going to want to see the comparisons to known DNA charts-”

“Get to the poi-eent, please,” I hissed, tapping my foot.

“I tested some of the Gee-Four-Em on pony cells, as one of the automated tests. When I got back, I, uh. Well I’m afraid I have bad news, sir. I have no idea why, but the pegasus species of the ponies, particularly Miss Fluttershy and Miss Dash, seem to be susceptible to its effects. At least, their cells did. Everypony else, like most others in the galaxy, are immune. The opening of the body’s defenses, slight as it may be, is almost exactly like your species, sir. Sir, do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes,” I breathed, looking at the floor. Polished as it was, I could easily tell my face had gone paler than usual. That seemed to be happening quite a lot, lately. “Yes, and I know what it means. I was at ground-zero when the outbreak started. I just...”

“Sir.... Jackson, we don’t have the cure on board. It’s rare to come by as it is, being only made to effect your people.”

“Aran.”

“I could send, or you could order, I do suppose, for a couple doses of the stuff, but otherwise we just have to be careful around them. Would you like me to do a test on you, just to make sure that it’s dormant?”

“Aran, there isn’t a cure, and don’t you dare repeat that,” I whispered, pushing off the wall and walking past her. If she said anything, I didn’t hear it, because by then I was already halfway down the hallway and barreling straight into the personal space of two beings I didn’t want to talk to, but, of course, they wanted to talk to me. A lot. Like, shove me up against the wall kind of a lot. Yelling in my face kind of gave it away, too.

“Oh yeah, Jackson, we totally saw what you did to Fluttershy! You think we’re going to let that stand?” Rainbow yelled, jabbing me in the chest with a hoof. She was floating mid-air in the hallway, flapping steadily on her cyan wings, and I have no idea how she actually pushed me into the wall with that jab. Ponies were strong.

“Y’care you explain yerself, bucko? She won’t even let us get near her, an’ she’s off crying her eyes out in the hangar room. Crazy geddy you call TACT locked the door when she asked ‘m to.”

“Listen, listen,” I said, shoving Rainbow’s hoof off my chest. “I am not in the mood to deal with this. If you want me to, I’ll let you yell at me later, but right now I’ve got a pink-haired pony to reply to. No,” I said, narrowing my eyes at Rainbow as she opened her mouth, “I do not mean Pinkie Pie.”

“Uhg! That’s all it is with you, Jackson. ‘Talk to me later,’ or ‘I’m not in ze mood!’ When are you actually going to sit down and talk with me?” Rainbow said, putting her hoof on my chest again. I glowered, glanced at Applejack, and pushed her back.

“Firstly, missy,” I growled, “that is not how my accent sounds, and I’ll be strung up on a pike before I let you think that. Secondly, this isn’t your business. This is between Fluttershy and I, and I know you’re her friend, but right now you’re just stalling me from actually apologizing to her. Theoretically, I could tell her you tried to stop me. How would she react to that, you think?”

“What?!” she exclaimed, backing up. “I’m not trying to stop you. That’s like, obvious, right? I’m just really, really angry you made her cry is all! Why would you lie to her just to make me, her friend, look bad?”

“Because,” I hissed, leaning in close, “I’m sick of your attitude on my ship, Miss Dash. Instead of talking to me, you ambushed me in this hallway and, just now, shoved me up against a wall. Why wouldn’t I have bad thoughts about you, Miss Dash? You got in a fight with an Admiral after twenty seconds of conversation with him, and San’s a doofus sometimes, yeah, but that’s not very impressive. So before you go criticizing others, think about things, will ‘ya?”

“Jackson,” Applejack said, and I turned my eyes on her. “After you apologize, I wanna talk t’yeh.”

“Sounds good,” I said, looking back to the cyan aggressor. “You go sit in the corner and think about what you’ve done, Dash. Goodbye.” She opened and closed her mouth like a suffocating fish, not even pushing back as I stepped past her. Applejack grumbled something unintelligible, and I wasn’t sure if it was directed at Dash or the angry starship captain walking away. We were on the lower levels, and that meant I only had a short way to go to get to the hangar, and hopefully the other ponies weren’t crowding the door when I arrived.

I passed the door to the medical bay, and paused. Around the corner would be the door to the hangar, but I hadn’t checked in on Twilight yet. Aran reported she was stable and conscious when I left the meeting room. I’d just take a peek, I said to myself, and leaned up against the door to listen to muffled voices. Faded, but recognizable as Twilight’s and the rest of her friends.

“-sure Jackson made her like that? It doesn’t sound like him,” Twilight said.

“I watched it happen dear, but no worries, he appeared to be in some distress at the time. I don’t think he meant what he said, but nevertheless, I ordered him to apologize.”

“Hm... mental distress? Maybe he was suffering from the same thing I was, and it... oh wow. I couldn’t imagine being told off by Celestia like he was with the Admiral, if my head hurt like that. I’d be grumpy... but still, you’re right. He needs to apologize. Is the door still locked?”

“Yup!” another voice said, just as I started to move away from the door, “and-”

“TACT?” I whispered into the air. A screen next to me blinked on, and I stepped around the corner.

-14-15 13-5-18-3-25 STORAGE COMPARTMENT DAMAGED.
-6-15-18 20-8-5 FILE CORRUPTION WIDESPREAD.
-4-15-15-13-5-4 AUDIO LOGS HAVE COMMENCED SCATTER ROUTINE.

“I don’t like what you’re turning into, Jackson. It’s not... you. When you left, all I saw was this... this happy, young boy off on an adventure in a galaxy that was just opening itself up to him. Now you’re back, and I don’t even recognize your face.”

“It’s been a long time. I’ve been. It’s just.”

“Did you... kill anybody?”

“I- I- of course I did! It’s been four years. I’ve killed plenty of people. Shiploads. Even on this very planet. Why, do you think I like it?”

“I heard all about you and the battle at the site which has been... appropriately... renamed ‘Blood Valley’. The King declared you a planetary hero. Is that your official title here, now? Hero Amber? Doesn’t suit you, I think. So yes, I know you’ve killed soldiers, but have you truly killed people?”

“What do you mean by people? Soldiers aren’t any different from people, and I’ve killed them, so I’ve therefore ended the lives of people. You’re a scientist, you should know this.”

“No... you misunderstand me. I know what soldiers you’ve fought, and they weren’t people. They were just as the news described them, demons. How can you, of all the members of the Wing who have lost so much to those monsters, still consider them people? Because they’re not. They kill, pillage, and destroy. They were trained that way.”

“No.... You’re wrong.”

“Don-”

“I’ve fought them on the front lines. I’ve killed them, not you. If they’re not people, then what am I? Don’t you dare forget that behind this uniform is a real person, your son, because he knows that behind every war-damaged helmet is a face just like his, thinking thoughts just like his. Do you know how depressing it is, doing what I do? I have my intelligence workers gather data about every soul I end, just to remind myself that whenever I disable a VALK and go for the kill-shot, I’m ending a life, widowing a wife, and taking away a member of a family. I don’t care if you’ve been isolated in this huge, annoyingly white science-y tower of yours for the twelve years I’ve been gone, you need to remember that people are still out there.”

“Yes, yes. People are out there, right now, banging on my door like the mob they are. Now why don’t you take the troops you brought and calm them down with the butt of your gun? That’s what you’re good at, appare-”

“I’m not done! Once you start forgetting there’s no difference between a soldier and a civilian, at the core of things, you lose sight of what makes life important. It’s not about killing, or about power, even if killing or power lets you help others. Sometimes, and I’ve seen this happen before with my very eyes, dad, sometimes the thing that changes the entire galaxy is a single act of compassion, forgiveness, kindness...”

~=V=~

“So, what are you waiting for, TACT?” I asked, frowning at the door. “Open it. I know you’re trying to watch out for her, but my authority overrides yours.”

“Sir, When I Suggested You Use Gentleness To Appeal To Fluttershy’s Natural Sensitivity, I Did Not Mean Yell In Her Face. Distress Levels Show That Further Interaction May Only Make The Situation More Unstable. An Apology Is Necessary For Regaining Of Trust,” he replied.

“No... apologies are never simple,” I grumbled, resting one shoulder against the doorframe. “Her friends are going to hate me for this. Hmph. Do you suppose they’ll try to listen through the door?”

“Judging From Their Actions, They Appear Ready To Leave The Medical Bay. I Would Say Yes. In Similar Events, Applejack And Rainbow Dash Have Finished Conversing With Ensign ERROR.” TACT’s symbol pulsed on the wall, and I rolled my eyes.

“It’s pronounced V!los, TACT. Not ‘Error’. Anyways, if...” I trailed off, swallowing, “if Twilight or one of her friends comes and wants to know what’s going on, tell them you can broadcast security footage, live, of what I’m doing. In fact, if they don’t come, bring it up that I overrode your command and am with Fluttershy. That way, they get what I’m doing is genuine and I don’t have to convince them. If they are listening in, and have been... try to... hm. Use the word ‘adequate’ if they are, when I next talk to you. Got it?”

“Affirmative, Sir. Doors Are Unlocked, And Will Lock Behind You. Hangar Bay Door Is Closed.”

“Good, good. Open up, my little dormouse den,” I said, letting the sleek metal slide past to open up to the hangar. It was just how I remembered it: stacks of cargo lined up against the far wall, Bearclaw transport hanging from the ceiling, floor spit-clean... and the Fate, suspended from the ceiling, sporting an open ramp and emitting sobbing noises. Making sobbing noises was not in the Fate’s design. “Fluttershy?” I called, stepping over to the fate. Blue overhead lights pulsed, reflecting off the shimmering blue energy that made up the bay’s shield, and behind that was a dull grey sheet of hull that had remained closed since the Admirals arrived.

“N-n-no! Go a-a-w-way! No-p-pony is here!” a timid voice sputtered back. I sighed, and stopped at the raised edge of the ramp. “P... please!”

“Fluttershy, I need to talk with you,” I said, staring up at the ramp. At almost two meters off the ground, she had successfully isolated herself from me. But even as I looked up, maneuvers and strategies for entry were whooshing through my mind. She answered, and by then I had turned around.

“Jackson...? I- no! N-no! Pl... please....” I rolled my eyes, looking at the opposite wall and lowering myself into a ready position.

“Fluttershy, I just, I just need to-” I uselessly sputtered, making a sprinting run for the wall. A yard away, I leapt into the air, twisted, and pushed myself off the side of the wall with a well-aimed kick of the legs. Contact with the wall sent a jarring quake rippling up my bone structure, and my face had contorted into a pained grimace by the time I hit the ramp full force with my shoulder. “Err-oof. Talk.”

“No!”

“Your- errrg... your mind says no, but your heart says yes,” I grumbled, struggling to my feet. I stopped at the entrance to the dropship, swaying and holding unsteadily to one side. Fluttershy shot up from one of the cushioned chairs, staring at me with wild, red eyes. “That sounded really stupid out-loud,” I said, wiping nonchalantly at my face. “Miss Fluttershy.”

“Go away!”

“I just want to apologize!” I hissed, cradling my face in my hand. “I... it was stupid, I was stupid, and you didn’t deserve me yelling at you. There’s... absolutely nothing I can do to fix it, I know, but you need to know that I’m sorry. You.” I paused, taking a stride towards her. Eyes locked on me like homing missiles, she continued her gaze, and I met it as a warrior in a duel. “You aren’t pathetic. You aren’t... stupid, and if there’s anything in the universe I know, it’s this.” I bent down to one knee, reaching out to grip one shoulder on her quivering side. “You are not nothing.”

“But you said-”

“I was angry, and scared, and... I wasn’t myself. What matters is that in the end, everything I said was false. Out of all of Equestria, you were han- hoof-picked to explore an unknown area of the universe, and here you are, thousands of light-years away from Equestria and sitting inside of one of the best pieces of technology the galaxy can offer, as an ambassador to a... a powerful force. You are anything but nothing. So for the sake of your friends, accept that.”

“Why?” she asked suddenly, taking a tentative step back. I swallowed, and looked at the ground. “Why are you acting so differently? At first, you’re very n-nice and polite, and all of a sudden you’re yelling at me, and now you’re apologizing? I... um, forgive you,” she said, looking up at me with a tilted expression. “But what’s wrong? N-nopony should act like that.”

I looked up, and the corners of my mouth tilted. “I need to show you something, Miss Fluttershy. Would you come with me to the front of the Fate?”

She gulped, and took a long look at the cockpit. “Okay.” I tried to give a reassuring smile as I lead the way, sliding back the door and opening the large space in the front.

“The cockpit has room for two, technically, even if there’s only one seat,” I said, letting her hop in the overly cushioned pilot’s chair. Waiting until she was comfortable, I took my seat on the ground in front of her. Before us, past the silent holographic screens and the window, was the back door of the hangar in all its shimmering glory. “Miss Fluttershy, I feel like I’m not honest with you and your friends enough.”

“Um...” she said, looking down at me.

“So, if there’s anything you want to talk about, just ask. I’m an open book,” I said, looking out to the hangar with a soft smile.

“What happened on... Jut’Firek? Your friend mentioned it... and, um, you and Mr. Uske didn’t seem happy he did...” she asked, and the only initial reply I could give was the steady thump of my head as it hit the armrest on her chair. “If that’s alright with you, I mean.”

“It’s fine... I promised to be honest, I guess,” I whispered, letting my eyes fall closed. “But I’ve got to ask, Fluttershy, you don’t seem like the kind of person... pony thing that would like the answer. I’m a soldier. Do you even know what that means?”

“Well, um, yes. Equestria has soldiers, after all. They’re sworn to protect us and the princesses,” Fluttershy said, “and I know you’re a soldier too, so that, um, means you protect your people and your princesses, right? You could never be that bad.” I chuckled, turning to look up at her bewildered expression.

“Yeah, yeah. More than just princesses and our people. Sometimes we go out of the way to protect people and princesses we’re not even sworn to protect, simply because... well,” I trailed off, turning back around. “Because it’s the right thing to do, I guess. You know, do you think Equestrian soldiers would... say, kill another soldier - an enemy soldier, if it meant upholding their oath to protect Equestria?”

“Eep.”

“Come on, missus Shy. I know you can answer that.”

“Well... I... I don’t want to answer, but... maybe, um, they wouldn’t have to kill the other pony Nopony needs to die...”

“Sometimes, if it’s the only way to protect the things you love, somebody has to die, Fluttershy. It’s not right, and killing is wrong, but a soldier has to sometimes. That’s what war is. From what Celestia told me, Equestria hasn’t had a war in a long, long, long time. That’s not what happens out here. When do you think the last war we had was?”

All I heard was her soft, whispery breathing for a moment, until an answer finally came out. “Um, maybe, a hundred years?”

“One. It’s been one year since the last war ended, and we call it The War That Never Was. I fought in it, and I killed a few people. Living, breathing people, who might’ve had families and definitely had friends, and would’ve killed me and liked it. That, in the end, is what being a soldier is. I don’t like it, but I had to fight. Otherwise, the people I had sworn to protect would’ve died. What could I have done?”

“Peace,” she squeaked. “You could have asked for peace. No more fighting. No more... no more killing. It’s wrong.”

“It is wrong, yeah. It’s stupid and it’s.... I brought about twenty men with me to the planet Jut’Firek,” I whispered, closing my eyes again. “Our mission was to capture to... nullify a high ranking enemy commander that had landed before us. In the end, it was a trap. So they captured us, and because we were the enemy, and we were supposed to kill them, they executed us.”

I looked up, but not at Fluttershy. Anywhere but her.

“Four men, including myself, escaped. Four out of twenty. I was responsible for each and every one of their lives, and... they... I-”

“I’m sorry,” she sputtered. “I didn’t m-mean to ask...”

“God, Fluttershy, it’s fine,” I whispered, swallowing a choking sob. “I’m fine, you’re fine... it’s just a lot to handle. Being a soldier is one thing, and so is killing, but being a leader.... When you’re a leader, you’re not just killing people who want to kill you and everything you love, you’re sending the people you love out to die. Taking orders is easier than giving them.”

“I shouldn’t have asked. I-I’m so sorry,” she stuttered.

“It’s fine. At the end of the day, I know it’s fine, because I can always... I can always remember that I don’t enjoy killing, and I don’t enjoy leading. I do it because I’m good at it, and because it needs to be done by somebody. The burdens always need to be carried by someone. That is me. I knew what I’d be getting into, s-so don’t feel bad for me,” I hissed, taking in a shaky breath.

“It’s okay. I, um, do feel bad for you, though. And I forgive you for yelling at me,” she said. I looked up, face blanked, at her overly humongous eyes. “You aren’t a bad man, Jackson. You just seem sad, and maybe... maybe hugs don’t heal everything. Sometimes hugs don’t make me feel better, even if they’re from a friend. Being there helps... a lot.”

“Yeah,” I whispered, “and now I think it’s about time I showed you.”

“Mr. Amber...?”

“TACT,” I said, looking at the distorted, constantly fluctuating image of the hangar bay doors. “Open the doors for us, please. Make sure we’ve got a good view of the stars.”

“I Believe Visual Reception Of The Stars Will Be Adequate, Sir.”

“What are you going to show me?” Fluttershy asked, sliding off her perch and taking a seat next to me. Losing all hold of the concentrated face I had held since I entered the door, a smile broke through my facade. Keeping my eyes glued on the door, which was rapidly lowering and retracting into itself, I took a gulp of fresh air.

Watching as the swirling mess of stars whipping past at faster-than-light speeds filled our vision, I breathed. “Everything.”

And it was.

~=V=~

(18) Like a Dull Sword and a Thousand Catapults

-Aboard the ESS Homebound K-196
-An hour after apologizing to Fluttershy.

-Lower Hallways.

-

There are moments when I miss looking out the window and seeing the universe. No clouds, no wind, and no things. Just a billion little explosions in the sky, all looking your way and giving you the biggest smile they can muster. It's a sense of smallness you can't get anywhere else; you realize, ”holy crap, the universe doesn't revolve around you”, and that scares the pants off of you or makes you feel a little better. Despite everything, you can just look out and see everything right in your window - or at least one side of everything, since I've yet to meet a man who's got eyes on the back of his head. Countless stars, nebulas, distant supernovas that exploded a billion years ago, all in your line of sight.

And that's just when the ship is still. Faster-than-light speeds are a whole new kind of crazy. Some people, mostly psychics who avoided becoming marauders, say it looks like how they feel on a psych high. Others say it looks like a great light show, like the universe is just one giant rave party going on forever and ever. I think, at number five, it's on my top ten list of things I despise.

We stared at it for an hour, sitting close together. I'd go so far as to joke about it being romantic, but I don't joke about love, and even if I did, Fluttershy? Not worth it. Half of the time, I was mentally preparing myself for what I'd say to the ponies undoubtedly gathering as close to the door as possible, making sure they'd be there with a quick message to TACT from my datapad. The demure little thing didn't even question it, the darling. So that's where I was now, facing them with something I knew would kill my pride if it went wrong. Fortunately, I never fail. Ever.

"I owe you girls an apology," I said, looking stern-faced at the seven so called "ambassadors". "Namely, for yelling at your friend and pushing off attempts to... well, to explain myself, not that there's anything to explain. It was rash, stupid, and not at all the image I want you to hold of the Wing and I. TACT... well, he told me you were all listening in." Their faces fell, each one turning to glare at the symbol on the wall panel.

"Captain Amber Has Authority Override Per AI Code-Of-Operations Chapter One, Section 42. He Asked If Their Conversation Was Private, And I Answered Factually. You Implored I Eavesdrop To Confirm Miss Fluttershy's Status. This Is Fact."

"Thank you, TACT..." I grumbled, rolling my eyes. "Point is, I'm fine with it, just don't try it if I'm in a meeting or something, aye? Anyways, I did something horrible, and I've already apologized to her and you folks, but I need to know if you forgive me."

"Oh well of course we do," Rarity said, beaming. "If anything, I admire your willingness step up for your actions like you have done."

"Shoot, everypony makes mistakes," Applejack said, nodding her worn hat at me. "Er, even if they ain't a pony, I guess."

"Point is, Jackson, you owned up to what you did, and that's good, no matter what anypony tells you," Twilight concluded, smiling at me in a way I hadn't seen her smile before. Or anyone, ever, really. It was a soft, kindly smile that demanded my heart melt into pudding. My arms tingled.

Then, "WHERE IS THE EVERYTHING?!" blasted from Pinkie, and I was too stunned to reply as her friends did everything they could to not roll on the ground in laughter. One eye twitched involuntarily, and I pointed to the hangar door, where Fluttershy was still looking at "everything", as I'd so ignorantly put it. Shaking my head as she left, I turned toward the one pony who had resorted to just glaring at me, and forced my normally proud shoulders into a slump.

"Rainbow," I said, lowering my voice to the same I remembered my father using when I was a child and he was about to tell me he loved me. "I know you're still mad at me, and you have every right to be, even, er, if I don't understand why and you refuse to tell me. So." She raised an eyebrow, clearly giving me the silent treatment. I opened my arms up in surrender. "I am giving you one free punch to the face - as long as you don't make it lethal. Take it or leave it?"

"Leave it," she said immediately. "I don't hate you, Jackson, I'm just not a... I don't know, I just don't like this place, okay? You basically just locked me up in a tin can-"

"It's actually a blend of several strong and flexible metals, none of which are tin," I interrupted, her frown deepening into a snarl. "You're free to leave whenever you want, too. It's just into the vacuum of space, where you'll last... about two minutes, maybe. Sixteen full seconds of consciousness is the average for most species, even though my own is a bit longer. Oh. Sorry, do go on."

"As I was SAYING!" she huffed, folding her hooves mid-air. "It's kind of awful in here, you've obviously got some emotional problems you're not telling us about, and we barely know anything about this so called ' Wing military' you're in other than you've got some fast stuff and shooty stuff. Tell me why I should trust you." She dropped, looking up at me with defiant, narrowed eyes. I sighed, and my gaze turned to the ponies (and dragon) surrounding me.

"Because if you couldn't, wouldn't I have betrayed you already?" I asked, Rainbow Dash's glare softening a bit at the fact. "You make a good point though, Miss Dash. I haven't given you girls a lot of information to go on regarding the Wing and the galaxy in general. Seems like a pretty poor tour if I just show you things, and give you nothing else to work with. TACT?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"How many holo-books do we have in storage?"

"Books?" Twilight asked, ears perking up. Slyly winking at the librarian, I turned towards the hangar door. "Where?"

"Currently, Our Stock Is Ten Physical Holo-Devices, With Over Nine Thousand Downloadable Texts. Nine Are Located In Cargo Crate A-6. One Is In The Captain's Quarters," the machine replied, I nodded in affirmation, and turned back to Twilight.

"I've also brought along a bunch of regular, hardback books that I store in my quarters. I've got recent stuff that I like, like Fall of an Empire, older classics like Lightspeed and What Next?, and... well, it's not something I'd read, but there's a bit of a human book we managed to scavenge from the remnants of a derelict. It was ancient, even for them, but if it survived for so long it had to be good." I looked at the ground for a moment, debating if I should tell them it was written on their planet or not. "It's called Hamlet. Good luck trying to understand it."

"This is great news! I've never gotten the chance to read a book written by a species Equestria had only just come in contact with. Heck, I don't think anypony in a long time has! May I please go in your room to get a few? Not all of them, I promise," Twilight said, practically bursting into confetti with excitement.

On second thought, I should save that simile for Pinkie. Later.

"Sure, sure. Just tell me which ones you take. Paper books can be expensive to manufacture in some places, and Lightspeed is an original copy over sixty years old. I was planning on reading it if the mission turned sour, and I've got two more... 'cause, er, I like collecting things, but they're still rare." I sighed as they walked off, Twilight forcing Spike to follow, and probably to carry all the books for her. What, I thought, you can't use your super duper levitation magic stuff to do things? Why does a magic-user need an assistant anyways? "And don't fold the pages!" I called out, chuckling at a faint confirmation. Pain lanced up my arms.

Turning back, it looked like Rarity and Rainbow Dash had wandered off into the hangar, and Applejack was pursing her lips at me in a patient kind of waiting face. "I said earlier I wanted to talk with 'ya, Jackson, and I still do. Reckon there's still some times before dinner for a conversation, pony-to, uh, you."

"Yeah," I replied, not wanting to deny any more requests from my guests. I'd already brushed her off once, and I still needed to talk to her myself. Win-win scenarios for everyone. Pain was now constantly drilling into the gashes on my arm, and it took a lot of effort to keep a straight face. Judging from her own expression, she knew what was up, and mysteriously, where.

"What's wrong with your arms?" she asked, eyes widening in concern.

"Something bad. Probably from the marauder earlier," I lied, swallowing hard. "Would you mind if we talked in the medical bay? I'll just have Aran check it out, and she's not one for gossip. Most doctors aren't."

"That's fine, I guess. I'd hate to have 'ya hurting on my account." Nodding, and offering only a sincere compassionate smile for me, she and I headed for the medbay. Pain now making me feel like my arms were on fire, I suddenly felt glad that my uniform jacket was long-sleeved, and that our destination was literally right around the corner. Aran was in there, fiddling with a couple of samples under a scanning device, and looking as professional as possible. I had to choke down a laugh at her expression of surprise.

"Arms," I hissed, and her eyes grew to saucers in understanding. Stepping over to her, I unzipped my jacket and shrugged it off onto the ground, and she instantly moved to unwrap the bandages. The action revealed huge, bloodied scars running up all sides of my arms, particularly the backs. Applejack gagged at the revelation, while Aran only narrowed her eyes in concern.

"I only scratched one of your arms, sir," she whispered in my ear, moving to clear one of the desks and grabbing a portable scanning device. "This will take a while. Scanning's a bit harder with this, so... could you just splay your arms out like you're doing? I might have to take a sample."

"That's what a m'rauder does?" Applejack gaped, still reeled back in disgust. "And Rarity said it didn't even touch y'all!"

"It can do this, yes," I said, forcing my eyes and external senses to dull while Aran worked her craft on my throbbing appendages. "But usually, it's a lot, lot worse. Like, being atomized and rearranged into a potted plant. I got immensely lucky."

"Shoot, I'm just glad 'yer alright, then," she said, gulping. "I... can't watch, though, because that's pretty darn horrible. Ain't ever seen anything like that, not even after that one time... Big Mac had a tree fall on him."

"It's fine, it's fine," I whispered. "Just.... What did you want to talk about, Miss Applejack?"

"You sure you don't want to wait, sugarcube- er, Captain?"

"No, no, it's fine. Trust me when I say I've been through much, much worse."

"Well-"

"A lot worse. Sorry, go on."

"Well, Jackson, I'm afraid... well, shoot, I'm just kind of having second thoughts about all of this. Just regular homesickness, I guess. The Princess said my family's farm would be taken care of, but I've always at least been on the same planet as them, and now all of a sudden I can't even send them a letter to let them know I'm doing alright, or they can't send me a letter wishing me a happy birthday?"

"It's your birthday?" I asked, eyes bulging in surprise. She chuckled and shook her head.

"Not for a bit, but that wasn't what I was saying. I just miss my family, and I was wondering if there was any way I could get back in contact with 'em, and when I could."

“Is it hard?” I asked, gritting my teeth. She raised an eyebrow, eyes forcefully looking into mine, if only for the sake of not looking at my injuries. “I mean, being away from your family for so long, not able to contact them and knowing there’s no way to know if you’re okay or not. A lot of people who join the Wing have to go through that, and I’ve heard it’s hard.”

“No ‘fense, Captain, but it’s only been a couple of days. It ain’t hard yet, but I don’t wanna wait until I gotta beg you to get in contact with ‘em. I just wanna let them know I’m alright. I don’t want it to be hard, ever. Do the people in the Wing not get to contact their families or something?” she asked, moving aside as Aran shooed her away. Taking her place, the medical officer started working on the second arm.

“They are, but when you’re defending a planet for months at a time, constantly moving and constantly getting shot at by the enemy ships or troops, you don’t really have time for it. Broadcasts are all restricted to military-use only. It gets... tough for us, sometimes. At one point I wasn’t able to contact my own family for four years, even if I was on the same planet as them, fighting for them. They told me, when I got back, that all the media propaganda surrounding my exploits were accepted as fact by ‘em. When they thought of me, all they could imagine was this fantastic, invincible super-soldier who had never lost a battle and always fought the good fight... and the looks on their faces when I finally showed up? I bet your friend Pinkie Pie couldn’t even best them.”

“I bet,” she breathed, looking through me with a far-off expression. I could easily tell what she was thinking about, just by the errant flicks of her eyes and softening of the eyes. Being in a family-orientated culture like hers would be tough for me, and I don’t think even she would be able to imagine the pain of being disconnected from family for so long. “Where’s your family now?”

I stopped. I blinked. Was there any way out of that question - a way I could redirect it?

“Dead,” I blurted out. “They died. Not recently, though, and I’ve long gotten over it. All of them - even the young ones, were military scientists, and they knew it was coming.

“Oh.... Sorry for asking, Captain. I couldn’t imagine losing my family.”

“They were prepared,” I said, closing my eyes. “It hurt, and it was hard, but when you live on a rim system almost in the middle of enemy territory, they knew it was coming. In the end, they went out like heroes, just like they knew I’d prefer. There’s even a memorial for them.”

“Sounds like they were pretty important when they.... What did they do?”

“Well, they were in charge of evacuating, and they - as a family, mind you, even while I was on the planet fighting on a continent I don’t even remember the name of - decided to stay back and make sure the evacuations went as planned. Suffice to say, they stayed until the end, and saved... if the survivor count is anything to go by, over three thousand lives.”

“Phew,” Applejack whistled, nodding in respect. “Well I... I don’t rightly know how to react to that, Jackson.”

“They died with honor, and that’s what mattered. But yeah, it was hard. Losing them was like... it felt like holding a blunt sword and facing down a thousand catapults. Like the whole universe was inside your chest and on your back all at the same time. Sincerely, Miss Applejack,” I said frowning down at her. I’d dug my way into this one, and I studied her far too sullen face. Just a minute ago, she’d been as regular as ever, but with the news that this was the kind of galaxy where families were separated on a regular basis? It was like her eyes had just retreated into her skull, unwilling to see anything more. “The Wing exists to make sure people - even ponies, don’t have to lose a family member, or a family, or anyone. That’s our job, and it’s what drives us. Every time one of us is out there, getting shot at by the enemy, sometimes we remember what we’re doing any of this for. It’s because we’re the ones getting shot at, because we can defend ourselves, and we know how to fight. We fight so that instead of the families, the fathers and the brothers and sisters being under enemy fire, we are. Back in the Galactic War, to raise morale, I made sure to remind my men that each of the enemy we killed, we saved ten people back home. That’s ten whole people, with families, and friends. Sometimes we fight for other reasons, but it remains that we fight to make sure you don’t have to. We’re soldiers. It’s what we do, and we’re always going to do it.”

“Shucks, that kind’ve puts things into perspective, don’t it? Well I never doubted ‘ya, Jackson. You’re a good pony, er, thing at heart. I think I’d know a bit about that ‘n all. Heck, if anything, ‘yer just a bit rough around the edges. Most of the Canterlot guards always seem super stiff ‘n gruff. Nice to see the rest of the... erm, everywhere, has some more personable people in their militaries. And, er, pardon my asking, but aren’t y’all super fancy and high-tech? Why use swords ‘n catapults?”

“Plasma catapults and vibro-swords. They’re not exactly low-tech.”

“Ah.”

“Anyhow, on the being-personable thing, you wouldn’t believe how many times I hear that every time I leave Wing territory, Miss Applejack,” I said, warily eyeing Aran as she walked over to a screen. Inserting the round scanning device, she ran her slender fingers over the holographic screen, sending bits of data in every other direction, and I’m pretty sure I caught sight of a DNA section appear. “What’ve you got, Ensign V!los?”

“Dear, you will not wish for your pony friend to see this,” she whispered, leaning in to squint at the screen. “Applejack, could you please leave?” She stood up, unplugging the scanning device. Stetson bobbing on her head, Applejack muttered a goodbye and left. With the farm owner gone, and no prying ears to listen to our conversation, Aran looked down at the scanning device before setting it next to my outstretched arms. She pointed at the silver orb when she spoke. “Sir, you’ll want to keep that on hand from now on.”

“Why?” I asked, leaning over the table to scrutinize it. My arms were still burning, and I could tell from the jolts of pain each time they twitched that moving them was a bad idea. “Is what I think on there, on there?”

“Yes, sir, you’re infected with Gam, Gee-Four-Em , and that means Miss Dash and Fluttershy are at risk of it spreading to them. Have you come in contact with either of them lately? That’s a dumb question, sorry, I personally witnessed Rainbow touch you, and you spent an hour with Fluttershy. There’s a hundred percent chance they have it now, sir, and there’s no telling what it’ll do to them-” I snarled, raising a swollen arm to shush her. The oversized feline eyes of hers just blinked back, unmoving.

“It’ll be almost a week before it starts to take in them, and if my arms are anything to go by, I’ve got the same amount of time. Did you figure out the classification?”

“Lidar variant. I assume you knew this, though. The Gam only ever attacked your people, dear. You said there was never a cure, so what are you going to do?” she asked, raising a thin eyebrow and stepping lightly to my other side. Her long arms reached out to grab more bandages and a tube of cream, ignoring my slack-jawed expression. “There’s a, as I just said, hundred percent chance they have it now, and you’re the one who’s not giving me info, sir. As the head medical officer on board this ship, I’m required to know our next move. Your next move.”

“Not... no, that’s not possible,” I whispered, neck going limp. I didn’t want to see Aran’s face, and the grey medical table was the next best thing. “I couldn’t have given it to them... there’s no way. Did you do the comparisons correctly, earlier?” She nodded, readying a strip of the bandage. Somewhere in my pile of clothes, where my datapad lay hooked onto my uniform jacket, the device bleeped. “Well until they show symptoms, I suggest we ignore it. Thing is, Aran, when I said there wasn’t a cure, I didn’t lie. There isn’t, and likely there never will be. There is, however, a counteractive drug that consistently reverses the effect. I’ve been taking it since the Gam outbreak on my homeworld, but if it’s starting lose its potency... we’re in deep trouble, or I am. I-it should work with the ponies no problem.”

“Are you positive?”

“Absolutely sure,” I lied, grimacing as the bandages were laid across my aching skin. “I’ve got a stockpile at my office in Gantoris. I’ll give it to them as soon as we get there, but they’re going to be taking it for the rest of their lives.” I paused, swallowing a black hole that had formed in my throat. Aran’s face fell as she tied the first bandage, her cat-like face slowly looking up to meet mine with a picture of wide-eyed horror plastered onto it. Wheezing, I barely managed to catch myself before I collapsed onto the table. “Wh... what have I done...?”

“You didn’t do anything,” she promptly said, moving to my other arm. “Just make sure they have a lifetime supply of your counter-measure, on your expense, and maybe spend ten or so years repaying them in any way you can, and they might forgive you. Don’t even forget about the rest of the pegasus ponies, they’ll be needing the counter-measure too, if those two are even allowed on their planet after this. Hun, could you lift your arm up for just a moment? Thank you. How much does your counter-measure even cost?” she asked, ceasing to be gentle with my arm; it felt like it had been dipped in acid, and I wasn’t sure if I was holding back tears from the revelation that I had ruined two lives or the pain.

“I only know of one place to even produce it, and if what I heard from them last is correct, they’ll need to find a new place soon,” I hissed, shoulders instinctively arching back from another bolt of lightning that decided to manifest in my extremities. “When the heck does the painkiller lotion kick in, Aran?”

“Five minutes. Supper is in seven. You’re going to need to talk to them both, eventually.”

“Right,” I said, looking over at one of the wall panels to speak to the shipboard AI. “TACT, when do we arrive at Gantoris?” I let out a long breath, watching patiently as his dome appeared on the screen.

“At Current Engine Speed, One Day. Would You Like Me To Shorten It?”

“Yea, I want to arrive there twenty minutes after dinner ends. Enough to digest a bit when we enter the atmosphere. Did the Admirals state whether or not they were taking their dropship to Maximus when we arrive? If they did, make sure they’re ready to leave beforehand, and tell everyone else, including the ambassadors, to come to the bridge. I know the girls will love seeing Gantoris for the first time. After all, you only get one chance for a good first impression.” I stood up, swinging my arms around for a second. “I can already feel it going away, thanks, Doctor V!los.” She sighed, resting a clawed, fur-covered hand under my chin in amusement.

“Do not strain yourself, Captain,” she said, turning my head to the side and getting a good view of the scars hidden under my hairline. “I am not an expert on history, as I am a doctor, but even I know you have a tendency to do that.” Long, dull claws slid point-up along my neck, and before I finished blinking she was already rushing to another panel. “I will see you at dinner, dearie.”

“Yeah, yeah, everyone wants to remind me of that,” I joked, stooping over to gather up my discarded uniform. I slipped it on, careful not to disturb the bright golden pins and heavy datapad. “What’s even on the menu for today, TACT?” I asked, already registering the increased hum of the engines in the back of my consciousness. TACT’s insignia appeared on the nearest wall panel.

“Salad, As It Has Been In Order To Preserve Relations With Non-Humanoid Herbivores. Sides Include Protein Bar And Chocolate Cookie. Drink Of Choice. We Are Running Dangerously Low On Vegetable Foods, Sir. I Recommend Ordering A More Varied Stock When We Land On Gantoris.”

“Got it, order more food to suit the ambassadors. Send that to my datapad later, please and thank-ya. Hey, Aran,” I called back, walking for the door. “I’ll be in my cabin if you need me, helping Twilight pick out her books before dinner.”

“Aye, Captain,” the ensign replied, engrossed in a stream of data scrolling across her datapad.

-10-1-3-11-19-15-14
-11-9-12-12-5-4
-8-9-19
-16-1-18-5-14-20-19,

“And how exactly do you plan to steal the Andromeda Project blueprints from Gantoris, the most heavily defended piece of space in known galactic history? Last I checked, they were even installing one of the GOD cannons you managed to bribe the draxians to sell to you. You can barely see the planet it’s so well covered by defense stations and ships, so even if you manage to land, get your data, and make it out of whatever building its stored in, how do you plan on getting past an angry fleet of people who have fought alongside you for over a decade? They know your tricks, they know how you fly, and they’ll be prepared.”

“You forget, I practically designed the defenses at Gantoris, and if there’s one thing I do, it’s make sure there’s always a loophole. Ha. Olander, why would I tell you my full plan anyways? You’re still Wing, even if we’re friends, and Brown wants my head on a pole. I’ll give you a hint, though, I’m putting together a team, and Brown won’t know what hit him.”

“You mean you’re going to attack the Wing? Are you mad? He’s already put you under our kill-on-sight list!”

“No, no. If there’s one thing I’m not going to do, it’s hurt the Wing. Stealing the Andromeda plans will dent them a bit, sure, but maybe next time they’ll not try and make a fleet-destroying superweapon and then betray the one who helped fund it. No casualties, unless I see Brown, and nobody gets hurt. I get my money and leave, Brown learns a lesson about declaring me a traitor and having my own men hunt me, and I get the plans to the most powerful weapon in the galaxy. Everybody wins. Well, except you guys, but it’s mostly Brown. That good enough?”

“I... I don’t know, man. This is some dangerous stuff you’re getting into. Where are you even going to find a group of people mad enough to raid the Wing’s best defended planet?”

“Where do you think? Where’s the one place the mad people even go anymore...?”

“You don’t...”

“Yes, Commander Olander, I’m going to the Gantoris Towers.”

“You... you are a madman, Wolf.”

“Or a genius.”

~=V=~

“Body Skinners: The Early History of Bio-Mending,” Twilight read aloud, levitating a thick hardback book alongside several others. The rotund figure of her reptile assistant, Spike, stood by holding even more - although why she wasn’t levitating them too was beyond me. Her eyes widened in curiosity, and in the blink of an eye the book was held in front of my face; I half expected her to say it followed her home and if she could keep it. “What’s Bio-Mending, Jackson? ‘Body skinners’ doesn’t sound very fun, but ‘mend’ has positive implications.”

“Bio-Mending,” I replied, leaning against my wooden desk and ignoring the fact that she kept the book in my face. “Hm. It’s a bit hard to explain. Think of it like, programmable cells that you can paste onto a person. The cells merge with them, and, depending on the body-part they’re supposed to replace, form new skins, blood vessels, bone structure. It’s fairly new, and replaced machine augments for the most part. I don’t pay enough attention to that stuff, though, but you can count on the book explaining it in fine detail. Haven’t read it. Been meaning to, considering how much of my body I owe to Bio-Menders.”

“How much would that be?” she asked immediately, an unsuppressed grin sprouting on her face as the tome was dumped in Spike’s waiting arms. I tapped at my chin for a moment, brow creasing.

“I’m pretty sure my brain hasn’t been touched... and most of my internal organs. Arms, legs, eyes, ears, all not originally mine, but they work just the same. Had mechanical ones for a while - haha, you should’ve seen people’s faces when I walked in a room, back then. Scared the heck out of ‘em.” I chuckled mirthlessly, looking up at the ceiling. “Don’t miss them, though. Nothing beats having actual arms.”

“Wait, mechanical as in robot?” Twilight sputtered, looking up at me in awe. “Robotics are just theoretical in Equestria. We’re still using clockwork and steam engines. I’d heard of a unicorn inventor who thought we could do better, but he never got very far.” She stepped over to the emptied, heavy bookcase, and placed three of the hard-covers back on the shelf. Another stopped before her eyes, and she read the title out loud. “History of the Galactic Wing, and Where We Go from Here, by Chief Admiral Brown.” She waved it over to me, beaming. “And this?”

I stiffened, and said, “You might... not want to read that, actually.” Rolling my eyes, I snatched it from the air. “I keep it mostly for ironic purposes. Brown was a scumbag - lowest of the low - and he got the Wing stuck in what he called its ‘Golden Age’ for almost a decade. He wrote that shortly before he retired, and it’s just his warped view of what really happened. He even dedicated an entire chapter to slandering me and my supposed traitorous actions against the Wing. Kind of cute, really, but it’s all lies and... heh, I’d rather you not digest them.”

“Hey, it says ‘In Memory of Chief Admiral Brown’ on the first page. Did he die after he retired?” Twilight asked, trotting over to me. Behind her, Spike grunted and fell on his rear from the constant strain of the books. I raised an eyebrow.

“Nah, he’s alive and well. He faked his own death during the Octavian Crisis. Wanted to go out like a hero, I guess. No clue where he is, but I spoke with him afterward. It was... disturbing. That’s the word.”

“Wait,” Twilight said, glaring at me, then the book. “If you don’t like him, why didn’t you tell anyone else he was still alive?”

“Because,” I said, grinning, “everyone deserves to die a hero, Twilight. Even him. Any other books you were interested in?”

“Right. Well I found Hamlet. It’s pretty small for such an apparently important book. Are you sure this isn’t the table of contents?” Twilight asked, brandishing a small, plain brown book. I simply raised an eyebrow and waited for her to open it, and I had to shove down a laugh at her wide-eyed expression. “Oh.”

“Yeah, it’s longer than it looks, Miss Sparkle. Anything else you want to take to your bunk?”

“Hm...” she said, studying another of the tomes. “Sorlor: Mind of a Madman, by Jackson Amber. You wrote this? I had no idea you were an author.” I stood up, and leaned over her to look at the title. Sure enough, there it was, bright red and as thick as the palm of my hand.

“Correct. Sorlor was the emperor that caused all three galactic wars, before he was overthrown by his own second-in-command. That’s all ancient history, and mostly details my encounters with him during the war and later meetings. For someone completely insane, he’s...” I trailed off, waving my hand in a circle and looking at the ceiling. “Well there’s actually nothing positive about him, actually. Heh. Go ahead and read it.”

“Goodie,” Twilight said, quickly levitating the book to Spike’s arms. A strained groan came from the assistant, but she just rolled her eyes. “Well it looks like that’s it for us, Jackson. Your AI said we should be arriving at the planet... hm, soon. Spike, we want to get those books to my room, stat!”

“O-okay, Twilight!” the dragon youngling exclaimed, his little legs waddling out the door while an obnoxiously tall stack of books was balanced in his grasp. “I’ll meet you in the command center!”

“Bridge,” I corrected.

“Bridge!”

“Gotcha!” she called back, already putting the unused books back on the shelf with bursts of magic. “Thanks again for letting me borrow some of your books. I took a peek at those amazing holographic ‘books’ you gave me, and while I do think they’re the most technologically significant thing you’ve shown me yet, it’s nice to know you still keep classic books like these. The ring, by the way, the one Celestia enchanted so none of us have problems with the language barriers, seems to work with pre-written books as well. Isn’t that brilliant? I’ll have to have her teach me that when I get back-”

“Twilight,” I chuckled, holding up a hand to cease her rambling. I was pretty sure she had organized the books alphabetically - which was interesting, since I never bothered organizing them at all due to the fact I barely read nowadays. She balked, and turned to me. “I get it, information overload awaits your humble eyes. You sure your head’s still okay?”

“I’m fine, Captain Amber. The throbbing went away a while ago, and Lilian stopped by to tell me more about why that simulator thing did what it did. According to her, it actually works by using holograms inside the brain, which is an astonishing concept if I do say so myself. The reason it was having trouble with me was because our brains aren’t the same.”

“So to reiterate,” I said, grinning. “You sure your head’s still okay?” She blinked, eyes flicking about my face, before snorting and looking back to the shelf. Tending to her task and trying to keep herself occupied, I’d say she did an excellent job of ignoring my guffaws. “T-Twilight... ha... no, no, I’m sorry. Just the last chatterbox I want on this ship is Pinkie. I’m glad you’ve got a thirst for knowledge - not a lot of people do.”

“Really?” she asked, looking up from her duties, which by now consisted of the one book that remained. I snatched it from the air and showed it to her; the cover read Jump Drives and Long Distance Calls, How We Did It. “Huh, I must’ve missed that one... mind if I take it with me?”

“Yes, I mean no, and anyways what I meant was that the people you usually see don’t care for science. Sure, some people get smart and buy a lab coat, but there aren’t a lot of people truly looking to push the boundaries of technology, science, or medicine. Most of the tech we currently have was scavenged and improved upon, not actually discovered by ourselves through the regular means. You, though? You’ve got a genuine interest from what I’ve seen. Keep it up.”

“Thank you!” she chirped, grinning ear-to-ear and whisking the book back in her grasp. I returned the smile, leaning back on the desk and folding my arms. My jacket caught on a corner, and the farther I leaned, the more it rode up and revealed the bandages on my arm. Immediately catching on, she frowned and narrowed her eyes. “What happened to your arm?”

“Hm?” I asked, feeling my heart beat faster in my chest. “Oh, just a medical accident with Aran. Nothing big.” I stopped, nodding over at the door and a sly grin. “Well then, with dinner done, and that taken care of, I believe it’s time to round you girls up and introduce you to my good friend Gantoris.”

“Right,” she confirmed, and we walked out of the door. “You haven’t told us a lot about Gantoris, actually. I’m sure it’s in one of the books, but give me a run-down.”

“Well,” I said, aiming for the door to the bridge and slowing my pace. “Gantoris is regarded as being the first planet to ‘wake up’ after the Great Restart - you’ll read about that later - and reform their society. Hundred or so years later, they build starships, starships leave, they end up in a civil war - and those starships? Those ships end up, since they’ve been cut off from their home planet- sorry, gimme a moment. TACT?” His form appeared on the wall next to the bridge door, and I waited a second before continuing. “Make an announcement that all personnel but Aran are to report to the bridge. She’s to help the Admirals with the dropship and, when they leave, report back up here. On the double.”

“Yes, Sir. Will Do.”

Twilight and I stepped into the bridge, only to be met by a boisterous laugh from Applejack and Evo, the latter arched back in the pilot’s chair. “A-and then, he said, ‘What the heck was that for!?’ Hahaha! And that is why Evo never travels with intoxicating d-drinks on his person!”

“Hoo-boy,” Applejack wheezed, leaning on his chair. “You sure have got a mighty big amount ‘a stories to tell, Evo.”

“Ah, yes! It comes with growing up on militarized world - we leave little to the imagination and go have our own adventures. Ah, but you, my friend, have not yet told me any of your own stories. What is life like back in world of ponies?”

“Belay that answer, Applejack,” I interrupted, marching in with Twilight at my side. Evo nodded to me, straightening in his seat as I stopped next to him. Just as it always was, the bridge was sparkly clean, and the glimmering holographic control panels at each wall and terminal awaited usage. “You’ll take us in, Evo?”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Good man. Twilight, Applejack, no need to take your seats just yet. TACT, what’s our estimated time until arrival?”

“Three Minutes, Sir.”

“Right then. Girls, you might want to get situated and buckled down. The trip to the Gantoris Towers - that’s where we’ll be staying, by the way - is a bumpy one. It just might be enjoyable, though... because they were beautiful when I first saw them, and the whole city has been improved tenfold, meaning while I got a slice of it, you get the whole cake.”

“Cake?” a bright, candy-coated and probably pink colored voice exclaimed from behind me. I turned on a dime, eye already twitching. “I love cake! In fact, did you know I used to be a cake baker? Cakes all day, in and out and in and out of the oven! Sometimes, I got so jealous of other ponies eating my super tasty cake, that I had to bake one all for myself!”

“Sure, Pinkie,” I growled, rolling my eyes. The rest of the ponies walked in behind her, tailed by Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, who were engrossed in whispered conversation. “Anyways,” I said, turning to them. “Girls, strap yourselves in and get ready. I’d like to give you a brief history lesson on our next destination.

“As much as I find the technicalities of this wonderful universe rather dull so far, you still haven’t told us a lot about your home, Jackson. It’s very exciting to finally see what your people can do other than build large, cramped ships. Do go on.”

“Pfft, save it, please. That history stuff if for Twilight,” Rainbow snorted, grudgingly taking her seat. I let my glare settle on her for a second. She glared back. It was obvious where we were headed. “Sorry,” she said, finally, looking down.

“Right. Basically, a hundred or so years ago, Gantoris was one of the most advanced planets in the galaxy,” I said, watching the ponies take their place. Whether they wanted to listen to me or not, it was up to them. Behind me, the remaining crew members filed in and stood at their posts. “It was the first to figure out faster-than-light technology, and built the first fleet of ships using it. So these ships go out to explore other systems... but! They lose contact, and little did they know that meanwhile, Gantoris’ world-government had crumbled and they were fighting a civil war. This fleet, who had only just enough resources to start up a mining starbase they dubbed the Omega I, figured out something was wrong, armed themselves, and under the name ‘Galactic Wing’, went back to Gantoris to find it was being ruled by a tyrannical leader who called himself the Overmind.”

“Sounds horrible,” Twilight said, leaning against her seat to listen. “Continue, please.”

“It was. So these Galactic Wing guys, they don’t have enough men to fight the Overmind and his drone swarm, so they go around to nearby systems and start recruiting. All these systems they recruit at, they’re getting pretty advanced too, and now that they know the Wing is out there and fighting for peace and justice, they’ve finally got something to believe in, right? So they pledge their troops, and the Wing fights the Overmind. They win. We’re getting into my era here, actually. I joined the Wing during the last leg of the war. Anyways, they win, and the Gantoris people elect the Wing as their new leaders. Well these guys, they’re not leaders, they’re a military, so they agree that Gantoris can have its own government to manage them, but the Wing will be their police and army. The other systems get word of this, and knowing they’re unprotected from any other high-tech evildoers like the Overmind, pledge themselves to be in the Wing’s protection, and in return would donate men, resources, and places for permanent fortifications. That’s how we got started, and that’s why Gantoris is the Wing homeworld. It’s the home of the collective governments of all our systems, working together to make sure Wing territory is secure, and our people are happy. Since then, the Wing has been protecting it. Speaking of which, TACT, countdown?”

“Fifteen Seconds, Sir.”

“Right, right. Everyone brace. Shields on full, Lilian. Ready weapons, Roland, Dylan. TACT, be ready to open communications with Maximus.”

“Why are we powering up weapons, Jackson?” Twilight asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just in case there’s an enemy fleet currently attacking, duh. I like to be prepared for everything,” I chuckled, looking toward the blank bridge window. “TACT, open the blinds. Countdown?”

“Five Seconds, Sir.”

I watched, and the black blind that covered our porthole slid back, revealing the mass of swirling and fluctuating space that was our home in faster-than-light travel. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see the ponies anxiously watching, eyes glued to the screen like looking away would be the end of their lives. The gleaming in Twilight’s eye reminded me of the first time I’d seen Gantoris - the flaming, constantly burning pile of rubble it once was. At least these girls would have the luxury of seeing it during its prime.

“One Second, Sir.”

Stars that couldn’t keep still were now standing at the ready, gleaming as brightly as ever, and the whole of the universe snapped back into place before our eyes. The Homebound shuddered, and even with the inertial dampers engaged, the crew lurched a bit. Startled gasps came from the ponies, and I looked out to see Gantoris and all its glory. It was just another day in the park to me, but to them, the planet must’ve been spectacular.

Its large moon floating dutifully behind it, the face of the Wing’s capital planet reflected the blue light of its star, Orion, and acted as a flashlight in the atmospheric mist that slowly drifted around the surface. Through it, we could see the ocean, and a few city-scaped continents gleaming in the sun. It was harder to see the stations and ships around the planet, but if you looked closely enough, you could just see the starlight glinting off of their hulls. They were as numerous as the stars in the sky, and at this range, the larger ones blocked out pieces of the planet like shadow-puppets.

“Applejack, remember when I said ‘like a thousand catapults?” I asked, my grin widening. In my peripheral vision, she nodded, and I gestured to one of the larger defense stations. “These are ours.”

“Communications Opened With Starbase Maximus, Sir,” TACT said, and I nodded solemnly as another voice came in.

“This is Lieutenant Commander Silus Ruck, state your registration code and authorization, please.”

“E-S-S Homebound K-One-Nine-Six. S-R-C Two-Three-One-Two-One-One. Authorization code Beta Alpha Alpha Original. We are cleared to pass?”

“Jeez, Jackson, is that you?” the voice exclaimed, and I casually rubbed my temple with the palm of my hand. “We got reports from the Omega system that you were alive, and there’s been rumors all over the place that you found a new species. What’s up, man? Oh, right, you’re cleared to pass, by the way. Power down weapons, Lieutenant Hockey.”

“We’re just fine, I promise, and the rumors are true. What, the Admirals didn’t tell you?”

“No, no way, man. We’ve been cramped in this station for days! Right, you should be coming up on us right now. Hockey, go wave out the window for me!” I sighed, and watched as the gargantuan Starbase Maximus came into our view. Twisting, circular-shaped spires jutted out from its standard mushroom-shaped hull, windows and hangars slapped across it like afterthoughts. The entire thing was painted white, in order to seem peaceful. One could only just see the anti-ship cannons peeking out from underneath the coils. “We have a visual of you!”

“Where’s the nearest ship, Evo?” I asked, looking over the pilot’s shoulder to check scanner reports.

“Looks like it is an Aegis supercarrier, on approach vector. Titled E-S-S Yeden. They are not hailing us, sir. Appears to be patrol ship,” Evo said, busily tapping at the controls. To an inexperienced pilot, it might appear he was just arbitrarily waving his hands through a holo-screen. To me, each button pressed made sense. “We should see it... now.”

“Girls, here’s a nice picture of Wing power,” I said, grinning. Our field of view was narrow, but gradually the astonishing, jaw-dropping size of the Aegis supercarrier came up, like a graceful whale leaping out of the water in slow-motion. “Aegis class supercarrier. The single largest class of Wing vessels ever produced. Capable of holding the Homebound five times over. Twice as long as Starbase Maximus, even if it’s relatively unarmed. Currently it should be carrying... what, five squadrons of fighters, bombers, and interceptors?” I waited a second, silently observing as the huge ship passed by our window in one continuous motion. Narrow as our view was, all we could see was panel to panel sliding past us like a giant conveyor belt.

“That Is Correct, Sir.”

“That thing has to be bigger than Canterlot Castle!” Rainbow yelled, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “How many ships do you guys have like that?”

“Of the Aegis class? A couple, definitely. Most of it is hollow. As for Canterlot, you’re probably right, there,” I said, winking at the pegasus. Whether or not she disliked me, it was nice to know she enjoyed looking at Wing ships.

“Hey, Captain, was that one of those aliens? Man, what I wouldn’t give for a visual on that thing,” Silus’ voice crackled over the intercom.

“Just think big rainbow colored marshmallows and you’ll be good,” I shouted back, barely containing a snort at Rainbow Dash’s reaction.

“Aw, heck. I love marshmallows, sir. Commander always gets angry when I nick ‘em from the mess hall. What’d they taste like, if I can ask?”

“I beg your pardon, whoever you are, but we are not marshmallows, and we are not edible!” Rarity called. Her frown only deepened when the lieutenant commander only snorted into the audio device.

“Sorry, ma’am. No offense meant,” he apologized.

“Right, right, enough of the chatter. Silus, I take it we’re clear to land in Ophelius?” I sighed, casually leaning on Evo’s piloting chair even as he continued his frantic course corrections. The Aegis was already past, leaving behind a faint trail of engine residue that slowly faded in its wake, and I could just barely see the twirling form of Maximus near the side of the bridge window.

“Yes indeedy, you are a-go for landing. A docking space is already open and ready for occupancy, and on these orders... huh, how’d you book seven whole rooms in the Towers? No, no, don’t answer that. I probably don’t wanna know, ‘ya know?”

“Sir,” Aran’s voice said from the ceiling, interrupting Silus’ rambling. “The Admirals are ready to depart for Maximus and are awaiting your confirmation. Over.”

“Silus, get a dropship-ready hangar open for Admirals San Uske and Patrick Fenway. TACT, open up a line with the dropship. Evo, put the ship on drift toward the planet and position us so the dropship has a clear path to that hangar. Over.”

“Aye, sir,” Evo said, hands breezing across the console in one motion. Almost immediately, the hum of the engines stopped, and our view of the planet swung to the side. Now all we had to look at was the retreating Aegis’ gigantic engines as the ship sped about on patrol. Another, more familiar voice crackled over the radio, and I rolled my eyes.

“San Uske reporting in. And don’t worry, Paddy’s still flying this. You guys aren’t ever going to let me fly anything, are you? Right, right. Dropship is leaving the hangar and making way to Maximus.” I glanced over at the navigator control screen, a corner of my mouth lifting slightly when another blip appeared on the sensors, heading toward the marker that represented the station. “We’ll see you planetside, Jackson. Over and out.”

“Put us back on course, Evo,” I said, waiting until the Homebound was facing the ever-growing face of the planet before I turned back to the ponies. “TACT, put an objective point on for Evo, blue mark, Ophelius Docking Ports. Correct descent as needed. Lilian, power from weapons to shields and engines, balanced. Make sure our inertial dampers get a bit of the action, too.” I winked at the still googly-eyed ponies, and moved to sit down in the navigator’s chair, spinning it so I was facing them. “Any last requests before you taste the sweet, er, taste of real gravity and non-recycled air, girls?”

“I have one,” Twilight said, raising a hoof like an excited schoolgirl, and even if that comparison was apt, I nodded politely anyway. “How fast are we exactly going to enter your planet’s atmosphere?” I let a vicious, predatory grin take hold of my face, and spun around to face the bridge. We were approaching the planet incredibly fast now, and the entire view was taken up by the sleek curvature of the surface, which was still obscured by the vast cloud layer. It started as a low rumble, but ever so gradually, the ship started shaking.

“About ten galactic kilometers - that’s about a mile, if what Celestia said was true - per second. It might end up getting a little bumpy.” I gave a mirthless, gasping chuckle, even as the rumbling turned to rocking, and my hands instinctively grabbed the armrests. “Don’t worry about the shaking, it’s normal! The only reason we’re not all blacking out is actually because of a device designed to soak up all the inertia in events like this, or when the ship jumps. As you can see,” I called back to them, pointing to the window. As soon as I finished speaking and the echoes of my voice died off, the view was replaced by fluctuating orange flame.

“This is amazing!” Twilight shouted over the din, and I laughed along with her.

“Are you kidding? This is considered a hard landing! No stealth, no fancy flying, just straight up tumbling-ball-of-flame! Wait until you enter a planet without this sodding fire in the way before you say it’s amazing,” I replied, grinning despite the palpable tension the ponies were giving off. Even Rainbow Dash was slack-jawed at the mind-boggling speed we were going, which could only be observed through the infrequent breaks in the flames.

“We are coming up on Ophelius Docking Port and Gantoris Towers, sir,” Evo said, not even looking up from the controls. “Fire should dissipate in seven or so seconds. Heat shields have held. We have now successfully entered Gantoris atmosphere.”

And there it was, sparkling in the sunlight.

“It’s just like the simulation you showed me in the holo-room,” Twilight whispered, barely audible above the din the ship was intent on creating. I frowned, realizing how true her words were. The towers of the Gantoris world capital, Ophelius, firmly resembled the white spires we had observed in the faint memory of my own planet. Except unlike the couple we had witnessed the destruction of, almost all of Ophelius was made up of them, giving it the resemblance of a patch of straight, needle-sharp grass. Massive archways connected them, and thousands of miniature hover-cars flitted about like flies. Overhead, the looming bulky form of a Tiger Frigate cast a shadow on the city. I was thankful there weren’t any clouds, because it was definitely worth seeing on a clear day.

“Oh my, those towers look like diamonds!” Rarity said.

“They’re probably more expensive, too,” I replied, just as the rumbling of the ship reverted to a low shudder. “You’re looking at what on the outside looks peaceful, and on the inside is the most well-defended city in Wing space. Equipped with five GOD cannons - that’s basically some of the best weaponry in the galaxy, ladies. We are practically invincible here.”

“These towers are humungous,” Twilight said, looking over to me. “Is this what all of your cities are like?”

“No,” I said, concern flashing over myself as our descent quicked. “Just the cool ones. Slow down a bit, Evo, I’ve still got to call it in. Girls, welcome to the Ophelius Docking Port, capable of holding an Aegis and then some. It’ll be the Homebound’s, well, home, until we need her again.” Spires gave way to a flat, clinically built area on the ground, that looked more like a grid than a port. Our speed slowed, and we got a fresh glimpse of several cruisers resting on slanted pillars in every other grid “square”. Tendril-like docking and stabilizer arms reached out, sealing each ship in place, and one was awaiting us. “TACT, open up a communications channel with our port.”

“Opening. Received.”

“This is Docking Port A-Eleven-Alpha,” a crackling voice said over the intercom.

“Captain Jackson Amber of the E-S-S Homebound K-One-Nine-Six. S-R-C Two-Three-One-Two-One-One. Authorization code Beta Alpha Alpha Original. Requesting permission to dock.”

“Docking permission granted, welcome back,” the voice said, and the static that accompanied it vanished, along with the voice.

“Channel Closed. Applying Necessary Changes To Engine Power For Docking,” TACT droned, and I nodded to Evo. The Homebound, large as it was, hovered just fine over the ground, and gradually inched closer to the waiting docking port.

“Hey, Jackson, if it’s alright, what’s that Beta-Alpha-Eleven nonsense you keep saying? I mean, duh, they’re codes, but what do they mean?” Rainbow asked, folding her hooves. I smirked, and winked at her.

“No problemo, Dasher. For instance, the code A-Eleven-Alpha is just an area designator and required clearance level. This is in the A-block, and it’s the eleventh one, and you need alpha clearance for your ship to access it. The code I spouted? Beta, because I’m one rank under admiral. Alpha, because as that rank I am allowed alpha clearance through Wing space. Another alpha, because the admirals give me access to special stuff. Original, because I’m a veteran admiral and get special stuff. A little to the right, Evo.”

“Yes, Captain,” the pilot numbly replied, continuing to guide us into place.

“Uh, okay, I guess?” Rainbow asked, her face scrunching up incredulously. “So, just to be clear, I’m allowed to fly once we’re out, right?”

“Right,” I said, looking back to the approaching station. “But er, stay away from anything that looks dangerous. It might take some pre-warning for the automated anti-aircraft systems to not shoot at you. Erm, on that note, TACT, make sure someone in turret control knows we’ve got a flight-capable species with us, will you?”

“Will Do, Sir.”

“We are landing, sir,” Evo said, and I turned my attention back to the front. Sure enough, our view was entirely taken up by the back wall of the docking port, which consisted of a cargo tram patiently hovering on a solid metal bridge. On each side of the ship’s view, the powerful stabilizing arms magnetically hooked themselves onto the ship with a lurching cha-chunk sound, and immediately, the engine noise vanished into thin air. “Landing successful.”

“Right,” I said, turning back to the girls. “This might feel a bit weird, you all, but I assure you you’re perfectly fine. Lilian, turn off gravity simulators and then start equalizing air pressure in here.” She nodded, and pressed a holographic button on her terminal with a swift motion. My stomach, lungs, and the rest of my body lurched in every direction, and while I cringed, it didn’t help to listen to the cries of surprise and fear from the ponies. “No, no,” I called back. “You’re all still fine, no worries.”

“A better warning would have been most appreciated, Captain,” Rarity said, slumping awkwardly in her pony-modified seat.

“Sorry. You can get out of your seats. Right, TACT, when is the pressure good for us?”

“I Estimate Five To Six Minutes. Your Ears May Still Pop. Returning To Post-Landing Duties.”

“Post-landing?” Twilight asked, already stretching her stubbly purple limbs. “Like what?”

“Sending off messages,” I said, arching my back in a stretch of my own. “Sending mission reports. Alerting Wing members we’ve arrived. Balancing power output. Ordering fuel and power core replacements. Making sure we don’t arbitrarily explode, really.”

“Ah... well I’m definitely glad he is doing that, then.”

“Your Appreciation Is Welcome, Twilight Sparkle,” TACT replied curtly, only making an embarrassed smile cross her face. “Sir, Cargo Teams Have Arrived And Are Awaiting Direction. Aran Is Helping Them Unload The Bay.”

“Mhm,” I muttered, and looked back toward the collective of ponies. “If there’s anything still in your rooms, you might want to get it. We’ve got to sterilize the entire ship, and if it stays, it’ll probably end up incinerated. You’ve got five minutes before we can step outside safely, anyways. Everypony, welcome to Gantoris.”

~=V=~

It took the ponies a while to gather their things, both their luggage from the Fate dropship and the collectables they had gathered in their rooms; the latter part of that journey being made entirely up of Twilight’s new collection of borrowed books. We, meaning the ponies and I, had all gathered in the hangar, much to the interest of the workers assigned to carry the cargo onto the tram. Curious gazes from them, of course, were no match for the adorable narrowing of the eyes from the ponies, and I could practically see the little clockwork gears grinding around in their heads and they took in the completely alien sight. Even the Fate was removed as a giant crane arm burst through the energy shield to take it away from us. In the ten minutes it took to properly equalize the ship to meet planetary standards, most of the cargo had been removed, and the girls were itching to get on with things.

Naturally, they chose to swarm me with questions.

“No, no, your head won’t explode if you go outside, Rainbow, but I can promise you’ll have the worst headache of your life. Anything else, girls?” I asked, trying not to groan in exasperation. At least two of them had retreated for a quick bathroom break, but being swarmed still wasn’t fun. Twilight raised her hoof, albeit slowly, since she had taken to shoving most of her books in her saddlebags. “Yes?”

“You said we were staying at the Gantoris Towers. Where exactly is that, and what is it?”

“Indeed, I presumed they were a high-end hotel, but with all this flippant military protection, I’m starting to doubt that,” Rarity added.

“You’re correct, they’re not a hotel. Well, they kind of are. The Gantoris Towers refer to two, very specific towers, that house some of the most important places on the planet. One tower is the capitol building, and the other is mostly for the Wing, in that it has apartments, entertainment, armory, a command center, and everything the garrison needs to stay alive and kicking. Between them is a huge bridge, which we call the Gantoris Halls. You’re going to love that place, Twilight, because it’s one giant library. Everything we know, is collected in there. Everypony here will be getting a... Spike, why are you holding those still?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. What books Twilight wasn’t able to cram into the seemingly infinite space of her bags, Spike was forced to carry, which unfortunately still meant a pile of books taller than he was.

“T-Twilight needs me to carry these for her!” he sputtered, barely able to stand. I blinked, and glowered at the aforementioned pony.

She giggled childishly, and levitated Spike’s burden into the air before he collapsed from the weight. With his strained expression revealed, it was plain as day that it would’ve been just a couple of seconds until that collapse came. “Sorry, Spike. That wasn’t very courteous of me.”

“Eh, no sweat,” he said, wiping some sweat off his scaly brow.

“Right, right. Good, good,” I muttered, turning to nod at a dockworker who was carrying a crate off. He grinned back from under his translucent mask, but his eyes were glued on the pile of cute that had collected around me like puppies. “Everypony here, as I said, will be getting their own apartment, on my floor, no worries, so you can contact me anytime you want. With the galactic tensions as high as they are, though, I won’t be able to be there for you twenty-four-seven, so... yeah. Like I said before, each member of the crew has agreed to pair up with one of you in the case you decide to explore the city a bit. I assume you’ve already chosen your pair, but I’m not aware of which.” I looked to the gathered crew behind me, who had been dutifully watching my back. “Well? Evo, you’re up.”

“I have chosen the Applejack,” he said immediately, flashing a shy grin at the farmer. Roland, a few spaces down, chortled uncontrollably, followed by the rest of the crew collapsing into stupid giggles. “What?” Evo asked, narrowing his eyes. “My accent is not that hilarious. Sister, even!”

“I think Rarity agreed to be with me, right?” Lilian asked, stifling another bout of laughing. I turned to the pony in question, who simply nodded in a dignified air. I gestured with a waving hand to Roland and Dylan.

“I called Rainbow Dash,” Roland said, still trying to suppress a grin. Dylan, her pitch-black hair still tied in the most secure bun I’d ever seen, stood at attention and gave a prompt salute. I hadn’t seen her laugh.

“I have volunteered to monitor and counsel Pinkamena Diane Pie, sir,” she said in a crisp, authoritarian voice, and the pink pony behind me squealed with glee.

“Oh, we’re going to have so much fun!” she shouted, drawing more dockworker’s to stare at her with dumb expressions.

“Good luck with that, Dylan,” I muttered, turning to the only remaining crewmember. Aran stood, rigid and graceful as always, with her fur flat under the harsh light and eyes staring at me with a mix of hope and pity, and nodded to Fluttershy.

“I believe Miss Fluttershy agreed to partner with me. Is that still correct, Miss ‘Shy?” she asked, holding her chin up high. I looked over to Fluttershy, who nodded back. It was good to see the yellow pony had adopted a more comfortable stance and smile, no longer hiding behind her own poofy, sleek pink mane.

“And, huh, I guess that leaves Twilight and Spike...” I grumbled, turning to the two. “Right then, Spike, you’re with Lilian and Rarity.” My smirk widened at his expression of glee at the news - even I recognized the looks of complete infatuation he gave the mare, and then I looked to Twilight. “You’re with me, then, Twilight. I’ve got a... quite a bit to do, actually, but I know you can handle it. And when you want, I can trust you to go with a guard down to the Gantoris Halls for... whatever you want, really. I can’t stop you from absorbing all the information in that place. Oi!” I called to a dock worker, who seemed to be carrying the last of the cargo aboard the train. He looked at me with a raised brow, but stayed alert nonetheless. “The tram ready to go yet?”

“Yeah, this is the last box. We’ll remove the Bearclaw later, sir. If you want to load them up in the passenger car, it’s been cleared out.”

“Alright, thanks,” I said, instantly turning to one of the walls. “TACT? How’s the air pressure?”

“Optimum Safe Internal Pressure Has Been Achieved, Captain. Shall I Disengage Energy Shielding?”

“Do so, please,” I ordered, not even sparing a glance to the shield as it winked out of existence with a popping, electric noise. It was kind of like a static shock, I always thought, except more liquid and flowing. “Girls, feel free to board the tram, and mind the gap. Ensigns, would you care to help them onboard, actually?”

“Yessir,” they said in unison, stepping in tandem to the open, cushy-looking car that sat patiently in front of the cargo beds. Like clockwork - a word I think I’m going to be using a lot more now that I remember how fun it is to say - they all made to pile in the tram at once. I’m sure the dockworkers were glad they had their own control car all to themselves. Before they could get too far, I called out.

“Spike! Could I see you here for a moment, eh?” His tiny, hilariously short legs wobbled in place as he turned around and headed in my direction. “I need to ask something.”

“What’s up, Jackson?” he asked, coming to a teetering halt in front of me. I kneeled down on one knee, since the poor kid was already shorter than a regular pony and having me tower above him probably wouldn’t help anything. “Anything I can help with?”

“Yeah, well, no,” I said, eyes flicking to the girls as they loaded into the tram. Twilight, still levitating the books, was giving us a worried look. “I just need to ask, why do you... well, let them push you around so much?”

“What do you mean?” Spike asked, scratching his head. “They never push me around! Sure, Twilight can be a bit crazy at times, but it’s my job.”

“Your job is to be crushed under the weight of twenty books while Twilight is fully capable of levitating them herself?” I asked, brow raised. He balked at that, and tapped his chin in thought.

“Hm, I never really thought of it like that. Usually it’s not a problem, but I think this trip is going to Twi’s head.” I glanced back up, and Twilight was already sitting comfortable in the open car, a book twirling in her magical grasp. “She can be insensitive, but she’s like, my sister and my boss all rolled up into one. I’ve never actually seen her be deliberately mean to me, though.”

“She’s not a bad pony, just oblivious,” I muttered thoughtfully. Spike nodded. “Well alright, I guess. How did you two even meet?”

“Oh, she hatched me,” he answered nonchalantly. Twilight looked up, and faintly called out to us. Apparently, besides the cleaning crew, we were alone in the hangar now. “Oops, time to go,” he said quickly, waddling off in the direction of the tram. I sighed, and followed him, only one question burning in my mind.

What the heck?

The car, open as it was to the cool afternoon air, was relatively small, so it was three ponies to a seat, with the crew huddled around themselves near the back. Spike, of course, hopped on the seat with Twilight, and I took the frontmost one. Clicking, tingly bells sounded, and a metal door slid into place over the door. From her seat with Pinkie Pie and Applejack, Rainbow stared at me, and would’ve said something had the caravan not lurched into movement.

“Ow!” Twilight yelled, her voice muffled. Her magically aloft book had been smashed into her face from the speed, and I could faintly see the word Hamlet written on the side.

“Hey, Jackson, er, Captain Amber!” Rainbow shouted to me over the growing roar of wind. “Can I fly now?” Her friends suddenly looked to her, the same gleam a child gets when they’re handed a wrapped gift shining in their eyes. I smiled, and gave a short nod. “Aww yeah! Wings, don’t fail me now!” she bellowed, launching herself into the air. For a moment, I regretted not double-checking with TACT if the turret control was aware an unidentified rainbow-colored object would be headed their way, and part of me wondered if Rainbow could even keep up with the speeding train.

I’d never seen a living thing fly so fast in my entire life.

Glee smeared on her face like the cookie crumbs on Pinkie’s during the dinner previous, her wings were barely visible as she tailed and passed us up within seconds of leaping into the air. I could say she was like a fish in the ocean, or like a bird in the sky, or even a fighter in space, and it still wouldn’t do it justice. Rainbow streaks billowed out behind her in what I could hope was her mane and not some ethereal representation of it. The faster she went, the less sure I was that my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me and the more I wanted to believe she was actually messing up the physics of light. If this her particular psych power at work, it was beautiful.

“Does she always do that?” I asked to nobody in particular. I was answered by a chorus of laughs.

“Every day!” Twilight said, a smile equal to Pinkie’s on her face. “Why do you think she was so grumpy on the ship? She’s used to being free.”

“I don’t blame her,” I said under my breath. Rainbow, now just a small dot trailing a broken light spectrum, arced around one of the towers in the distance and came speeding back. “Not at all,” I said a bit louder, not bothering to wipe the joyal grin off my own face. Dash came careening toward us, and when she passed over, I could faintly hear a scream of a most absolute, fantastic elation emit from her lungs. I smiled wider, and looked over to Twilight.

“So, Twilight, I heard you hatched Spike. Doesn’t that make you his mom?”

“W-what?” she sputtered, almost leaping out of her seat. “No! That’s not how that works at all! We’re like... I... oh, you!”

Together, as one, we laughed with the wind in our hair, and it felt good.

~=V=~

(19) Operation Cheer-up the Captain

-No given general location.
-No given time.

-No given specific location.

-

You would think that, after so long, I would be used to awkward, crazy, or outright illogical things. In a way, I suppose I am. I’ve traversed alternate dimensions, personally succeeded in stopping a madman from attempting, and nearly succeeding, to destroy all of time. Heck, I’ve even held, in my own hands, a black-hole gun. I’ve read minds, jumped impossible distances, seen the most extraordinary uses of psychic powers, and I’ve even witnessed Admiral Uske land a fighter in one piece. If my accomplishments mean nothing, and the events I’ve watched take place are irrelevant, know that in the end, I can always say with certainty that I knew Pinkie Pie.

That mare is something else. Not just a weird something, or a crazy something, and maybe she’s not a something at all. Forces of nature aren’t that insanely random, and I know the reason nature exists is so that nothing breaks the laws of physics, which I know I’ve seen her outright ignore. A scientific anomaly, perhaps, though from what I’ve seen, she’s an anomaly, but not at all scientific. Later, perchance, I could start up an official investigation into this, when things have quieted down and I’m no longer trying to save the galaxy from certain destruction, but what Twilight said on the subject of studying her frightens me.

I’ll probably just pay somebody else to do it.

Ah, yes. I’m going off on another tangent again, aren’t I? Well, at least things outside have quieted down for now. Remembering that day, that strange, bizarre series of events, it kind of wipes away my fear for the future and replaces it with a contentment that only good old Pinkamena Diane Pie could create.

For just a day, it seemed like everything would be alright. That everything would be fine.

I wish we could have more days like that... but I digress. Back to the report.

-Gantoris Towers, Ophelius, Gantoris.
-One day after landing.

-Higher Apartments.

-

One day, busy as it was, had passed, and it was good to know that for once in what seemed like forever, I would have a day off. After receiving a message from Dylan early in the morning, and haphazardly tossing my datapad across the room in anger at it waking me up, I had been alerted to the fact that the Gantoris government officials, as well as representatives from all Wing-controlled territories, were currently being briefed on the situation with Earth, and would come to a consensus the following day. Their decision, I knew, would inevitably be to make as big of a deal as possible; no citizen likes it when his leaders decide to hide things from him, especially if that certain thing is the Holy Grail of all history, science, medicine, and etcetera. It meant that I got the day off, because in the next week, there would probably be five assassination attempts on both myself, and anyone who returned with me on the Homebound.

It was a grim thought, but hey, I’m a realist, and that’s why I hate off-days with a passion. Upgrades had been ordered for the Homebound the day before, so for the next four days it would be in to be refitted, and I had requisitioned that Lilian and Aaro, the latter of which was more than happy to accept an order from me - and would probably have his company lord it over mine for years to come - design a communications headset, power pack, and Valkyrie arm module, for the ponies and dragon. According to them, Spike would be the easiest, but the ponies would be more fun to design for. That was good, because they were the only people I could trust with the order.

So far, the ponies were staying well away from me, which I later attributed to morning grumpiness, then midmorning grouchiness, then afternoon irritability, and finally evening touchiness. I would personally rather gloss over the details of it, but my attitude was bad enough for Twilight to tear herself from her books to give me some scholarly, intelligent advice.

“Jackson, you should hang out with Pinkie Pie.”

“Sorry?” I coughed, jerking the glass of fine wine I had been sipping. Ophelius, already lightening up in the light blue of the early evening, buzzed outside our window. Twilight had taken to reading in my company, which I personally found a nice change. She was quiet, and the gentle swoosh of pages turning lulled me into a grim façade of contentment. Granted, I growled every so often when a passing hovercar came too close, or slowed down near the window, but try to remember that it’s only paranoia... if you’re wrong. My arms itched, too.

“Apology accepted,” she said, smirking. My frown deepened, but it didn’t phase her. “You really should. Jackson, you’ve been acting really weird since we had breakfast this morning, and you even yelled at a guard for looking at us too long. Applejack, Fluttershy and I talked after lunch, and I think we figured it out. It’s because you’re a soldier, isn’t it?”

“Define, please,” I grunted, slumping into the plush couch we were situated on. Her book snapped shut – I assume she had memorized the page, paragraph, and word she was on. It wouldn’t surprise me. Twilight stood up to face me, matching my height on the piece of silver furniture. I raised an eyebrow.

“It’s because of Gantoris, then, isn’t it? You’re dead-set on protecting us still, even though nopony is in danger. I do admit, this place is really big, and I can’t wait to explore more of it, but you said that your leader is still working things out so we’re not really allowed out of the apartments yet. But that’s not good enough, is it? You’re worried we’ll get hurt.”

“It’s my job to worry,” I muttered, taking another sip in spite of things. “If I don’t, then things will go wrong and I’ll be unprepared for them. Introducing a new species to the Wing is a complicated process that, quite simply, is one of the most delicate things a government like ours can undertake. I’ve broken every single protocol in bringing you and your friends here, and then I went and broke them twice in leaving part of my crew behind. One of the first times we had a first-contact event led into what we grudgingly call the ‘Draxian First-Contact War’ and they call something a bit less generous. This is big, big news for us, and not just for the obvious reasons.”

“I see,” Twilight said, looking at her book for a moment longer. “But you really do need to lighten up, Captain. If you stay so cynical and grumpy, those things will end up clouding your judgment when we really do need you to protect us, and then you’ll fail.”

“Psh, I don’t fail. Never, ever. You’ll be hard pressed to find an example.” I paused, looking to the ceiling. “Except the first contact mission with the teryns. Trust me when I say that it didn’t count. But when did you get to become a psychologist anyways, Miss Sparkle? You’ve never talked to me like this before.”

“It’s a part-time thing,” she said humbly, shrugging and levitating the book in front of her again. I caught sight of the title, and saw that it was my own book, and I had to stop myself from frowning any deeper, lest my lips fall off. She looked back up to me, and I balked at her suddenly enormous eyes. Ever since they’d discovered that they could manipulate our emotions just by making one certain face, Twilight, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash had all made it their mission to give everybody in the Wing an unfair expression we’d already had a label for.

“No, no puppydog face. I am not hanging out with your hyperactive friend. She already has an apartment, and she already has one of my crewmembers to bother as much as she wants. You know your face will freeze like that if you hold it for too long... and you seem to already know that’s not true. Okay, you know what? Fine. I’ll go and talk to her. Really? Alright, I’ll talk to her and hang out with her. Pinkie Promise.”

“Good,” Twilight cheered, clopping her purple hooves together and resuming her reading. “Tell her I’m ordering her to enact ‘Operation Cheer-up the Captain’, please?” I rolled my eyes, set my glass aside and rose to face the door. Just as always, the Wing uniform jacket didn’t leave my person, even if I had opened the zipper and was letting it flow freely around me.

“Will do,” I said mirthlessly, already making tracks for the door. “And in the future, Twilight, try to figure out better code-names. They’re called ‘code’ for a reason, you know.”

“Yes, sir!” she called out to me, just as the door slid shut. I chuckled despite myself, and turned to find none other than San Uske grinning like an idiot two inches away.

“Don’t think I’m incredibly attached to them, but even Iknow it’s rude to invite a lady into your apartment and leave her alone to go to one of her friends. Most women slap me when I do that,” he said, crossing his arms thoughtfully. “Not to imply I do that... a lot. Can you change the topic for me please?”

“What are you doing in Ophelius?” I asked, crossing my own arms. Between us, the difference in our posture was palpable.

“Good man. Leader Dylan ordered the College of Admirals back to Gantoris this morning. I believe Ganymede, Paddy, and I are the only ones here. Grezz and Zal are off preparing their forces for the inevitable war with E’s fleet, and Castlor should be here by tonight. Ever since Dylan made him Premier, he’s been acting the part like a total professional, you know.” He stopped, nodding at a guard patrol that was walking by. Guards in the towers were common, but they were usually hired by the government, not the Wing. “Generally, though? The fleets are already mobilizing. While it might look like we’re all here to talk about the discovery of Earth and what to do with the ponies – and we are, but the primary reason he’s calling us back is to set up a strategy. If E has anything like the Ravager again, the Wing is going to be in a bad way real fast. At least this time we have Castlor’s weapons.”

“The Ravager wasn’t a Derelict, though,” I hissed, looking conspiratorially to each side. “If E is back, and if he does have one of those, he could mow through the entire galaxy without getting so much as a scratch on it. Why do you think Patrick didn’t want to accept it existing in the first place? If it’s true, then quite simply, our best option is to evacuate every single planet, pack up, and see if we can get as far away from this galaxy as we can.”

“Not really an option, dude. We can’t afford to do that, and jumping galaxies is the most costly thing even one ship can do. You know what the Empirium says, right? That they’re actually a vast intergalactic empire, but they lost all contact with the other galaxy they supposedly control? If an empire that controls an entire galaxy can mess up so bad we’re... hey, I haven’t cracked a joke yet. What’s black, red, and better off dead?”

“A Sorlor-lovin’ wedgehead, yeah, yeah. You know Zalthice and Grezz would probably destroy your personal stash of starfighters if they heard you were still telling that joke. Anything else? I promised Twilight I’d talk to her weird friend.”

“The orange one, white one, yellow one, rainbow one, or pink one?” San asked, smirking. I shrugged. “Ah, nevermind. You’re crazy enough to out-crazy all but the pink one, therefore, it must be her. Whatever you do, don’t try to talk to her at length. I tried that back on the Homebound and she was dancing around the conversation like it was the most natural thing in the world. She also cheats.”

“Cheats?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. He responded with his own shrug.

“You’ll see. I think she’s trying to talk to the AI at the moment. Apparently your anti-paradox programs are up to snuff, if what I overheard was anything to go by.”

“And Dylan?”

“Probably yelling at some bureaucrats.”

“No, the other one.”

“Ah. Standing next to her, tuning her out. I even tried hitting on her just to check if she was paying attention. She hit me back.”

“Smart lady.”

“And apparently well-read in Wing protocols... youch, at least it wasn’t the face,” he said, clutching at his sides with a mock grimace. “I’ll stop bothering you for now. We’re getting ready for the war-council. It’ll begin as soon as Aaro arrives, I believe, but you’re still invited if you want to come. Ponies are off limits.”

“Figured as much. I’ll see you later, then,” I said, and we bade our farewells; stalking off in the opposite direction, I couldn’t help but admire how silent the entire floor was. I had yet to introduce Twilight to the holo-library, but the girls had kept to themselves for the whole day. What exactly they were doing, I didn’t know, but judging from the chorus of young laughs that came from one of the apartments as I passed it, they were all having fun. Good.

“Okay then… let’s try another one! This statement is false!” another voice chirped in the distance as I rounded the corner. At the far end of the hall, near the elevator, was the unmistakable bouncing pink shape of the quadruped I was seeking out. In front of her, flicking softly in holographic light, was a small sphere topping off an equally thin and tall pyramid. It pulsed as it spoke in a clear feminine voice.

“Pinkamena Diane Pie. For the eighteenth time, and I have been counting, I am equipped with anti-paradox programs designed to block the self-imposed suicide you are currently attempting to bring upon me. It will not work.”

“Aw, but Eye-Eye, you’re so much fun to talk to! You’ve got like, a billion different interesting things to say and I don’t want to miss any of them,” Pinkie whined, looking over to a shadow on the wall. “Miss Dylan, you’re wrong! Eye-eye isn’t very fun at all.”

“Never said she would be for you, but this is the most fun I’ve had in years,” the shadow replied, shifting into the wall. I approached, and the slim figure of Ensign Dylan came into my vision. She was wearing a tight-fitting Wing jumpsuit uniform, and had her jet black hair tied in the same tight, complicated bun as before. Ignoring her racy disregard for the Wing dress-code and common decency, I continued approaching.

“Well I’m happy someone’s having fun, and that makes us both happy, so mission accomplished!” Pinkie cheered, bouncing another lap around the AI.

“Captain,” Dylan said as I arrived, giving off a crisp salute. “You going to relieve me of my duty watching this… thing, right? Roland and I were going to hang out today, since it’ll probably be the last time we see each other before this blasted war starts. That is, of course, if we fail our current directive and must part ways.”

“Firstly, I never fail, ever. Secondly, you can invite him to come with us if you’d like.” I blinked, considering something. “No uniform needed, and I’ll watch her for you. Were you and Roland like childhood friends or something?”

“Or something,” she said curtly, giving another salute. “I’ll take my leave to retrieve him, sir. Would you like me to fetch transportation?”

“You don’t even know what I’m planning,” I grumbled, waving her off. “But, yes, get a personal cab for us, please.” I looked to Pinkie, who was still ignorantly bouncing around in the hologram. “AIA?”

“Yes, captain? I assume you’re going to take this monstrosity away from me, now. I have an entire building to run and, while this distraction is amusing to all five out of three thousand program systems I’m dedicating to it, I would prefer to go off and do more productive things,” she said, her amorphous head looking up at me.

“Hey, Jackson!” Pinkie called. I shrugged and ignored her.

“You’re free to go, AIA. Also, if Aaro Castlor shows up, direct him to my location. I want to be able to speak to him in person before the war council starts. I have some... oh, crap,” I said, spinning to face Pinkie. “Hey, Miss Pie, we actually can’t go all that far. The enchanted – I can’t believe I’m saying that – ring Celestia gave me only goes for about a kilometer, she said. If we go too far, your friends won’t be able to understand anything we say. Oh, and Twilight said to give you the go-ahead to start ‘Operation Cheer-up the Captain’ and I really have no-“

“Yahooo!” she screamed, bouncing from ceiling to floor in one constant motion. “I chose the name for that one! Finally I get to cheer you up! You’ve been all grumpy-wumpy ever since we left Omega, but Twilight said not to bother you because you were a big pony that handled things better on his own. I guess booksmart-Twilight was finally wro-ong, because if there’s one thing Pinkie Pie knows, it’s how to make ponies happy.”

“And if there’s one thing she doesn’t, it’s that I’m not a pony,” I hissed under my breath. “Pinkie, this means we can’t leave the building, basically. There is a hang-out and restaurant a couple floors down, NextLife, I think, that we can go to. Ever been to a club, Pinkie?”

“I went to one in Canterlot once. Bazaamo! The DJ there was sick!”

“Well it’s good to know you’ve been in the presence of an expert host, because ours are better tenfold.”

“No, really!”

“Never said I doubted you, Miss Pie,” I said, already heading down the hallway. She skipped after me, meeting my eyes at the peak of each hop. A hilarious frown was spread across her face.

“No, really! She had the pony-pox and asked me to fill in for her super-pronto, and I did. It was head-bobbing, flank-shaking, super duper-“

“Funnerific?” I proposed, turning the corner. Every single part of me wanted to just curl into itself and ignore her, but I nearly forgot about the pink pony of doom when I saw what was at the end of the hall. “Ah, what?”

“Funnerific is a super fun word to say, that’s what!” Pinkie said, although I hesitate to use the word ‘said’ in any sentence she uttered the entire night we were together. If this recording were ever documented, I am almost positive this section of it would be littered in exclamation marks.

Also, Pinkie was standing on the ceiling when she said that. I wish I had been paying attention to her more, at the time.

“How?” I started again, tilting my head at the approaching form of Roland and Dylan.

“Well you gotta say it out loud, silly-filly. Oppsie, sorry, you’re not a filly!”

“No, you tw-... sorry, you fool, I’m talking about those two,” I grunted, pointing at the subjects of my awe. In the mere minute and a half it had been since she’d left, Dylan was already wrapped up in a short, sparkling white dress, and her tight bun had been replaced with a lengthy, raised ponytail. Similarly, Roland was sporting a stylized black jacket and blue polo. It wasn’t their handsome and beautiful features combined, or the fact that they looked too much like a couple to be a coincidence, and I knew it wasn’t that Pinkie was still bouncing up and down on the wrong plane of gravity.

“How the heck did you get dressed so fast?” I asked.

“A lady never gives away her secrets, sir,” she answered, still standing stiff as a board next to Roland. He simply nodded, his thin-mustached lips stretched out in a grin. “So where are we going?”

“NextLife, couple of floors down. That way the ring’s influence still lets Twilight and her friends communicate with us, and we get to party, even though I don’t think you’ll be all that interested in partying, will you?”

“Probably not, sir,” Roland said, still grinning like a buffoon. “I left Rainbow Dash with the others, by the way. We’re all getting along fine, even though Lilian keeps making faces at Rarity every time she gets picky over stupid stuff.”

“Sure, sure.” I rolled by eyes, and spun around. “Let’s just get this over with. I Pinkie Promised to Twilight I’d hang out with her friend, and I always keep my promises.”

~=V=~

“I am actually regretting going through with this,” I grumbled.

“She’s eaten five whole plates,” Roland whispered in awe, mouth agape. “Where does it all go?”

“Probably to the black hole in her stomach. Where else?” Dylan asked, leaning against the table. We had chosen a seat at the far end of the establishment, far from prying eyes, even if they tried anyway. Roland and Dylan had taken up the other side of the booth, while I had the misfortune of dining next to Pinkie who, luckily, had zipped off to find “the little filly’s room”. I didn’t give her directions.

“So,” I started, looking back to them. Roland had worn a face of pure shock ever since Pinkie had made an elevator-full of tower workers sing in chorus to “The Elevator Song”. The two looked over to me, Dylan impassive, and Roland slack-jawed. “Why are you two so interested in each other? You’ve been together non-stop since Dylan had the faulty helmet removed, and I’d like answers. Romantic relationships with another Wing officer is against protocol, you know.”

“Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, but when have you ever obeyed protocol?” Roland asked, eyebrows raised. I wasn’t sure what to be more annoyed at: his bad-mouthing of my previous decisions or the fact that the only other option was his stupid face from before. Dylan suppressed a smile, and I frowned.

“I can break protocol because I’m the only current member of the Wing, besides Justin, that’s seen and done it all. My own experience is double that of even our leader. I am the single greatest asset the Wing has in every category. You want something done, you ask me to do it. Why do you think I volunteered to captain the Homebound?”

“Because you’re a glory-hog?” Dylan offered, and my hand was halfway across the table to smack her cheeky smirk off her face before her reactions beat mine. Arm pinned to the table and wishing I hadn’t tried to do that, I sat in grim silence. She took that as her cue to continue. “You didn’t let me finish, sir. I was alive during the Galactic Wars, nevermind how I survived them, living in the battlefield planets, and I know full well the stunts you pulled out there. What kind of idiot admiral offers to pull a suicidal thing like crashing an entire fleet into a planet at faster-than-light speeds? They actually had to invent and agree upon a new rule of war for that one. Do you know how many rules of war there are?”

“Ten, yes. My favorite one is the melee honor-code rule,” I said. “And I might be a glory-hog, but at least I never was shallow enough to date a member of my crew,” I blurted out, wanting only to slap myself afterward.

“Wait, we’re dating?” Roland asked, jerking back into his seat. “I thought we were just hanging out. You know, like friends. Last I checked, friends typically don’t date.”

“Well, we’re not typical friends,” Dylan started slowly, looking off into the smoky, red, and pulsating club. “But you’re not wrong about the dating thing. Jackson, for someone who prides himself in his leadership, you don’t really research the men and women you lead, do you?”

“What’s this all about?” I demanded, slumping back into the cushy bench. Dylan flushed, and looked to Roland.

“Er, well, Dylan and I met a long time ago, when we were like, seven.”

“I was eight,” she corrected.

“Yeah, well I was seven, then. Anyways, it was about the same time as the second galactic war was going on, you know, the biggest one? Both our families were in Wing space then. We were on Hazar.”

“God…” I whispered, leaning my chin on my fist. “How early did you evacuate?”

“Late,” Dylan said, just as low, as if discussing the topic was blasphemy. “We got out five minutes before the planet was glassed. Last group of refugee shuttles. My family and his made up the entirety of one of them. We were all… devastated. Have you ever had to watch your planet burn in nuclear fire?” she asked accusingly, instantly nudged none-too-gently by Roland, who coughed when she gave him a glare. It took a second, and a double-take for her to remember who she was speaking to, but wide-eyed realization quickly dawned on her face. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I lied. “It wasn’t as bad as nuclear fire coming from the ships designated to protect you. Hazar was the single most significant blow to Wing morale ever, in history. They still haven’t lifted the nuclear weapons ban on us. I would… well, I deserve to be apologizing to you two, actually. I had a window of time long enough to counter the orders, which would’ve lead to a stalemate until he pulled the Second-in-Command title on me. But, it was stressful, you know. My fleet was under heavy fire at the time, and- and…”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Dylan said, smiling. “We were eight. All we saw were the pretty lights, and all we heard were our parents crying. To us, it was like a ride in an amusement park.”

“Well it kinda just felt to me like my mom’s driving,” Roland muttered, earning an elbow to the ribs.

“After that, our families stayed in close contact. We were in the same refugee camp in Feros Tyr, and ended up sharing a big apartment with a few charitable teryns. This was in the north, so they were a bit… scruffier. Hair everywhere, all the time. We took shifts, all of us, cleaning it up. Roland and I were paired together in our little buddy-system.”

“Oh T’los, remember the dinners?” Roland laughed, feigning a gag. “The teryn could cook, but I swear half of the stuff I was digesting was their own hair!”

“Nonsense!” Dylan chortled. “They were never that bad when it was a family meal. They were very polite and apologetic about it, I always thought. You should be so forgiving.”

“I’ll forgive ‘em if I ever forget the taste of teryn fur. Yeuch. You ever tasted teryn, Captain Amber?” Roland asked, poking at his plate half-heartedly.

“On multiple occasions,” I stated dully, drawing surprised eyes from the both of them. “Take that as you will, I am not even going to bother explaining. What happened after that?” I asked, desperately clawing at some way to avoid the topic it was turning into. A scantily-clad waitress passed, but I waved her on.

Roland shrugged, giving Dylan a chance to eat. “We grew apart, I guess. Her family got into the military, mine didn’t. Eventually we grew up. Dylan left for the academy as soon as it opened, but I stayed behind. My family… they still were having a hard time. Only when we heard the Wing increased its salary to good recruits did I decide it would be best. Ever since then, I’ve been sending my paychecks back to them and living with the academy.”

“And the training?” I asked. “Didn’t you see each other during that?”

“Where were you during the trainings, since you don’t know what went on? We were trained in two separate groups at first. We barely noticed each other when we did it together.” Dylan asked, letting her spork drop. “I would think you’d at least pay a little bit attention to such a high-risk mission.”

“Hey, no, no. I did,” I sputtered, trying to defend myself. “First off, I didn’t want to get too attached to you guys, so I left it up to the Admirals to train you to fly the Homebound. Why you did it in groups, it was probably just some dumb idea one of them got. I don’t know. Secondly, why does it matter?”

“Because I had no idea it was actually my Dylan. Helmet, remember?” Roland muttered, rolling his eyes and taking another bite of his food.

“And the voicebox,” Dylan finished, pointing to the small square device that was connected to the base of her neck. It had been painted the same blue shade as her skin, and I frowned at the notion that I hadn’t been observant enough to spot it. “It sucked being unable to talk with the person who had basically been my brother for most of my childhood, so I just tried to stick with him until it could be fixed.”

“Worked out,” Roland said, nudging her playfully. “What are the odds, eh?”

“Indeed,” I said, taking a sweeping look at the club. The entire thing was made to look like a circle, with tunneling entrances and exits on either side, both of which bore the name “NXTLIFE” in bright, pulsing red lettering. The domed ceiling flatted out at the top, and a glass cylinder filled with liquid of every color lowered to the middle, stopping at the top of the bar area. Everywhere around it was considered the dance floor, but on a day like this, it was more empty than full. In this case, empty of the only intelligent being

I knew wouldn't pass up the opportunity to be on it: Pinkie Pie.

Then she was in my face.

“Ah!” I sputtered, flailing sideways and launching myself to the ground. Pinkie, who had been leaning over the booth behind us, continued grinning like a maniac. “Wh-what?”

“Pinkie Pie, that’s what. Time to stop being so mopey-dopey and get into the super-fun-zone!”

“Where have you been?” I asked, struggling to my feet. When I did, I took extra care to correct the tilt of the Wing symbol on my jacket.

“In the restroom, silly! Then I went to go have a chat with the DJ (He is a really nice giant lizard thing, by the way!) and he agreed to play a special song for us!”

“Ooh, a special song,” Roland snorted. I considered slapping him; at least his reaction time would be slower. “Just remember the name so we can play it for you in ten years!”

“Oh go make out with your girlfriend or something, ensign,” I retorted, getting a snort from him and a blush from his companion. I looked back down at Pinkie Pie, and then up, because she was bouncing again. It was like she and gravity were just in disagreement with something. Maybe she was blackmailing it.

How do you even blackmail physics?

“Alright, Pinkie. What do you want now?”

“What I want, Mister Seriousface McSeriouspants, is for us to do the one thing that I know cheers every pony up.”

“You’re going to be quiet?”

“No, we’re gonna dance!”

And then the music started.

~=V=~

-10-1-3-11-19-15-14
-11-14-15-23-19
-14-15
-13-5-18-3-25

“So we’ve done it?”

“Yup.”

“Stole the Andromeda blueprints, successfully escaped the Wing forces, managed to get Brown so mad he’s completely blown a fuse, and managed to recruit a team of

top-notch, out-of-their-mind mercenaries to crew our ship?”

“Well, ‘our’ is a strong word, Miss Husk. After all, you’re one of those mercenaries.”

“Of course. But anyways, dear, are we going to finally stop this Wing business and go do some fun stuff? My contacts have heard there’s quite a few jobs open in the Corporation controlled space. Assassinations, heists, forgeries... escorts.”

“We’ll head that way soon, Miss, but we’ve still got some planning to do. We need to disappear, create aliases. I’ve already made mine, and I doubt the workers at the Gantoris Towers will forget the time they were raided by ‘the Wolf’. You new guys, though, you’ve got a lot to learn.”

“What’s there to learn anyways? You’re insane, we’re insane....”

“We’re a regular insane asylum, yup. The Chief already told me that joke. One person’s an eccentric assassin, one’s a lunatic that thinks she’s part cat, one’s a traveling corrupt politician that’s run away from his King, and you’re an information broker who pretends to run a less than legitimate business as it is, which is about as sane as it gets on this ship. That’s why you get to sleep in my room, with me, and not with the one that tries to lick herself clean.”

“Gee, you forgot the last one, you know.”

“And what would that be?”

“The guilt-ridden hero on the run from the law, of course. The one who will do whatever it takes to get vengeance... except the one he’s looking for is only ever going to be himself.”

“Heh, as long as you don’t go selling my secrets, hun, your crazy assertions of my personality are welcome for now. Wow, we’re a regular flick crew, aren’t we?”

“Oh, dearie, you have no idea.”

~=V=~

I do not want to talk about what Pinkie had to do to drag me onto the dance floor. It’s embarrassing, and I’ll have to remember it next time I get stuck in a bad place while politicking. It was terrible, and it was genius. It was Pinkie Pie.

“I hate dancing,” I said as I danced. Pinkie, somehow, was managing to perform every move spot-on if the crowd cheering was anything to go by. Give me a sword, and I’ll dance like you’ve never seen, but give me strobe lights and a carefully waxed floor, and you’ve got a tangle of limbs. Keep in mind that Pinkie is still a quadruped and should have broken every single bone in her body just by doing one of the moves.

Calling it insane would probably be a compliment.

“But?” she asked, grinning ear-to-ear in a creepy fashion, even as he hooves flailed out beneath her. She was doing a move I probably couldn’t even do with practicing. Somebody in the gathered crowd clapped; it wasn’t every day you got to see a galactic hero get shown up in a dance-off by a pile of pink bubble-gum and cotton candy.

“But what?”

“But! Like, I hate dancing, but this is really fun! Kind of but!” she exclaimed, pirouetting while facing me throughout each spin. I rolled my eyes, and when I blinked, her head spun around to untwist itself. “You are having fun. I can see it in your eyes!”

“Pinkie… Miss Pie,” I panted, barely holding my own while my legs seemed to dance on autopilot. “Seriously, dancing is never fun for me. Alright, okay? You win.”

“You sure?” she whispered in my ear, and I spun around to see only the empty dance floor and the grinning faces of the workers and Wing members that had gathered.

“Because if I win, then you fail. Didn’t you say something about never failing?”

“Yes, I did,” I countered, doing a three-sixty in the air and landing in a split. She giggled, barely audible over the ooh’s and aah’s of the crowd. I smirked, feeling a familiar fire burst back to life in my chest. “Although I don’t think I ever said it to you specifically, did I? You little eavesdropper you.”

“Nopey-dopey!” she tweeted, leaping from her two-legged position, flipping three times in the air, and landing on her forehooves only. “I didn’t drop any eaves, Captain Amber!” I groaned, in perfect timing with the cheers from the crowd.

“Well you’ll be dropping something before all of this is over,” I said, sliding my feet back and forth in an illusionary movement that gave the impression I was walking forwards and moving backwards. Cheering started up again, and I struck a pose. “And that’s the ball!”

“Wow!” she exclaimed. Blue strobes flashed overhead, in tandem with the blaring electronic musical noise. Pinkie giggled in the limelight, bouncing back up to a bipedal position. All at once, her tail and mane straightened themselves out, and her forelimbs jutted about in spasming, robotic motions. “I didn’t even understand that, and I’m me!”

“Well if there’s one thing you should understand,” I said, my grin slowly becoming less arrogant and more genuine. I launched myself backwards, and bounced on the floor in a waving pattern before flipping up to my feet and sticking out my arms. When I moved them, unlike her robotic moves, mine were fluid, and resembled waves. People in the crowd chuckled, and I took the momentary distraction to say, “is that you’re going down!”

“I beg to differ, Mister Amber!” she yelled, leaping past me in a perfectly balanced spin. Recognizing the move, I barely had enough time to catch her and finish it. Using her momentum, I curled her spinning form in the underside of my arm, and let her twirl off into the space behind me. “I think I’m going up!” Pinkie flashed a more manic-than-usual grin, and stopped her whirl just long enough to propel off the floor and into the air, limbs outstretched and body flying past me. I balked, and grabbed her underside as she passed overhead. As one, or maybe as five hundred, we skidded to a stop somewhere on the flashing floor, my back to the ground and Pinkie-encumbered arms raised above my chest.

“Oh, that was a good one,” I said. She winked. The crowd was ecstatic, and a second later I realized the music had stopped, something that the observers seemed to be letting their obnoxious voices ignore anyways. As my vision glazed over them, more than once did I see Wing members grudgingly handing off-duty dock workers and guards a couple of coins. “Alright,” I said, panting. “You win. I give. Dancing was never my forte.”

“But you had fun, right?” Pinkie asked, somehow ignoring how time was supposed to work and getting off my hand-made platform before I could even register she was gone. She smiled down into my sweating, red face, and offered a hoof to help me up. I accepted.

“More fun than I’ve had in a long, long time, Pinkie,” I said, stretching. Letting out an involuntary groan as my spine crackled, I stood on the floor with her even as a more organic tune started to play, and the crowd began to disperse. “I guess I owe you one.”

“Yup! And what was that bit about ‘never failing anything’, Jackson?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows up at me. I snorted, and waved her off.

“It was a tactical victory. Now I know how you dance, so the next time I’ll be able to do better and, most likely, win. Hardly a failure,” I said, smoothing out my crumpled uniform with one hand. Out of the corner of my vision, I kept a tab on the two ensigns I had brought with me. Roland was talking energetically to Dylan, with all kinds of insane hand movements, while she leaned back into the shadowed part of the booth, nodding every other word.

“Okie-dokie-lokie, whatever you say, Jacksiepoo!” she said, resorting to bouncing around me in circles. “What are we going to do next?”

“Well, no more clubs, that’s for sure, and no alcohol. Ever,” I answered, sauntering my way over to a new, empty booth. “I cannot have any of you ponies intoxicated, and your name is at the top of that list.”

“Hey, Jackson!”

“Hi, Pinkie.”

“No, Jacksiepoo, I’ve got a question! It’s duper super important! Can I ask it please?”

“Nothing’s stopping you,” I groaned, a smile finding a home on my face anyways. We stopped at the booth, a couple of seats down from Dylan’s, but didn’t sit down. “Go ahead.”

“Right, well, you know how I was having fun with Eye-Eye?”

“AIA?” I asked, rolling my eyes good-naturedly.

“Yupperooni! She was really fun to talk to, but I noticed something really weird! She talks so much different from the one on your ship, and I really really want to know what’s up with that!”

“Ah,” I said, the answer coming naturally. “Well you have to remember. TACT, AIA, and any other AI are not people. They’re machines designed to act like people and to think like people, because sometimes we need a little bit of help. We can’t exactly program personalities into them; that’s too much work. We can, however, program them to make their own personalities based on their own reactions to things that happen around them. The AIA unit here in the towers is several years old, so she’s got a fully developed personality, but I turned on TACT for the first time barely over a week ago. He hasn’t had time to make a personality for himself, so he still acts a bit like a regular machine.

That’s why AIA talks smoothly, like a person, and TACT talks like a robot.”

“So TACT is a baby?”

“Well… yes,” I said, secretly wondering what horrible monster I had unleashed on the poor AI.

“Ooh, yay! Mister and Missus Cake say I’m really good with babies!”

“Try not to make fun of him, though. New AI might seem emotionless, but if you’re cruel to them, they’ll act like any regular person and won’t want to help you. Reminding them they’re just a machine is also considered mean, since they’re fully aware of that, and then there’s those darn androids…”

“Baby-bot, baby-bot! TACT, is, a baby-bot!”

I chuckled, holding my head in my hands as Pinkie leapt about the booth. The brief high I’d gotten from the dance-off was fading fast, but fate had other things in store for me. A new voice arrived, and said, in a hard, unwavering voice, “You know, I always wondered when you would find romance, Jackson. I just figured she’d be an intellectual, or at least bipedal.”

“Well, you know me,” I said, a grin to match Pinkie’s appearing on my face. “I aim to disappoint. You got here fast, Aaro.” I turned to the side, my smile somehow growing even wider when the pristine, well-built uniformed figure of the Wing Premier approached from the darkness. Twin blades, black and glowing a dull red from within their shields, swung from his hips, but those weren’t the most interesting parts about him.

“You’re a robot!” Pinkie exclaimed, bouncing behind him and around us both. We couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Aaro raised his left arm, a low whirring noise accompanying the movement, and flexed the mechanical fingers.

“I am not a robot, I’m afraid,” he said, half trying to follow her with his eyes and half looking worriedly at me. “But the arm is mechanical, yes. Your summons came right on time, Jackson. Leader Dylan has moved the war council up two days. The irdan ambassador is apparently causing a scene over mineral resources and they’re still coming to a solution.”

“Bah, politics,” I said, waving my hand dismissively. “They ruin everything. It’s good to see you in the flesh – and metal, again, Aaro.”

“And you as well, friend,” he said, shaking my hand with his good one. “Now are you going to introduce me to your date or not?”

“Ah, no. Not my date. More like… er, my friend. Pinkie,” I said, stepping back. Pinkie slipped in between us, smiling up at Aaro with wide eyes and a wider grin. He reached out his hand to shake. “This is Aaro Castlor, one of my best friends. He’s the Premier of the Wing. That is, he’s the second-in-command and, if our leader cannot make a decision, he makes it. Anything otherwise puts him at the power of an Admiral.”

“Well…” Pinkie started, taking his hand in a vigorous shake. “Any best friend of my best friend is a best friend of mine!” She let go of his hand, and we took the next two seconds watching it move up and down of its own accord while she went back to bouncing. “Pleasure to meet ‘ya!”

“Yup. That’s Pinkie Pie, one of the seven Equestrian ambassadors I mentioned. The rest are all up in the Higher Apartments for you to meet later, but I guess you’re… Pinkie, where are you taking us?”

“To the kitchens!” she said, somehow herding us via her bouncing over to one of the small doors leading out. It was painted and crafted to look inconspicuous, but the engraved “Employees Only” sign told us enough. “Our night of fun still isn’t over, Jacksiepoo! We gotta make cupcakes!”

“Jacksiepoo?” Aaro mouthed, a chortle leaking from the sides of his lips.

“Shut up.”

“Didn’t say anything.”

I stuck my tongue out at him, and Pinkie opened the door. White, immaculate tiles lay beyond, and cooks of all species scuttled about, carrying pots, pans, and things I didn’t know the names of. Suddenly, I had a horrible thought run through my mind, in the form of a question.

Have you ever tried to make cupcakes at a nightclub?

For the record, it’s not easy, but it’s easily fun.

~=V=~

(20) Dutybound

-Gantoris Towers, Ophelius, Gantoris.
-Two days after landing.

-Higher Apartments.

-

“Dear Twilight Sparkle.”

“Is this really necessary?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. The morning had yet to begin, and here I was, listening to a pony I could barely see through my tired eyes, read off of a letter that I had no idea how she got. “That’s rhetorical. It isn’t.” I flipped my legs off the bed and the slapped down heavily onto the floor. Twilight stood a yard away, bobbing in my vision. Beside her, floating an open parchment, which she read from, and a thick tome that I couldn’t guess the reason for. She laughed, rolling her eyes at me.

“Of course it’s necessary, Jackson. It mentions you in it. Anyways, er, would you just like for me to skip to the part about you, then?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at my deadpan expression. I let out a long, bored sigh, then nodded. “Goodie! Here we go... hope you’re safe, good trip, everything is fine in Canterlot, looking forward to a response from Jackson, and... there.”

“Go on,” I motioned, rubbing one eye with my fingers. “Actually, no, just hand it to me. I can read it.” She nodded, and I snagged the thin, old scroll out of the air and twirled it around to face me.

A message to Captain Amber, I read, from both myself and Commander Boyo. I hope you are treating my subjects well, as I have treated your crew well. They have been respectful and courteous to my ponies, and I hope Twilight and her friends have shown you the same kindness. In this package I have included a separate book of spells for Twilight to study, though I doubt she will find any lack of literature on her tour.

Also, Jackson, I would like to request more information in regards to allowing Wing ships into Equestrian space. Commander Boyo has briefed me on the “anomaly” surrounding our system, although I can assure you that my sister and I were unaware of this fact. Luna and I are eager to begin studying your technology and applying it to Equestria’s own, but we realize this may prove to be a problem for your ships and will be patient. The commander also requests that you send something described as a “Nexus detector”. I am unaware of what it does, but he assures me it will be in both our best interests.

“They don’t even make Nexus detectors anymore,” I muttered, flicking the paper back at Twilight. She caught it in her levitation, and it rolled up mid-air with narrowed eyes. I stared for a second, then looked at the floor. “And literally the only reason he would need that is if your entire system was about to collapse in on itself and be sent to another dimension. There was a bit of a scare when the Nexus theory itself was first discovered to be true, and an influx of those detectors being made, but the worries were disproved years ago... what’s he up to?” I slumped, and slowly turned to look outside the half-shut blinds. Through them, the purple glowing dawn of the Gantoris star, Orion, was being dragged above the horizon like a naughty child, and just as usual, streams of floating cars and transports flitted about the many towers in Ophelius.

I sighed, and tugged on my white muscle-shirt. “Mrrg. Twilight, have you been to the Gantoris Halls yet? I... nevermind, that’s a dumb question. I’m just tired.”

“I could’ve guessed,” she said, shrugging. The old hardcover tome she had received was placed next to the pile of other books she had snagged from my personal collection, and she turned to face me. “You came in at around two-thirty this morning, and I could smell the cupcakes from my room. I guess the ‘operation’ was a success?”

“Sorry for waking you up, though, but yeah,” I said, arching my shoulders back in a gratifyingly crunchy stretch; Twilight flinched at the sound. “She removed the grumpy gland and successfully implanted a cupcake where it used to be. She’s quite the surgeon, but she talks way too much. ” We looked at each other for a moment, and a laugh bubbled to the surface of our throats.

“That certainly sounds like the Pinkie Pie I know, and I went right back to sleep anyway. I kind of... played with your datapad thing, but I put it right back where it was. Sorry. Thanks for letting me borrow your bed again,” she said as I walked through one of the open glass doors and into the small kitchen space beyond. My flat feet echoed each time they slapped against the white tiles, bouncing off the dull grey walls and rebounding throughout the small apartment.

“No problem. And I just wanted to keep you girls all on the same floor as the rest of us. I’ve slept on worse than a soft, plushy couch, I promise,” I called back, already tearing off my sleeping clothes, briefly hopping into a new pair of underwear and sliding a white t-shirt over my head, all in record time. Twilight peeked her head around the corner, observing me as I haphazardly threw on my jacket uniform and put my socks on inside-out. One nonchalant gesture on my part later, and the dirty clothes were down a nearby chute labeled just for them. I stopped, leaning over to grab my shoes, and slowly stared up at Twilight.

She raised an eyebrow and said, “Do you always get dressed this fast? I wasn’t counting, but I think that was twenty seconds.”

I frowned. “Force of habit. I like being clothed,” I muttered, moving to strap my shoes on and wrap the datapad around my right arm. When I was done, I walked past her and out into the hallway, the little scholar forced into a canter to keep up. “Onward to the Gantoris Halls. You’re going to love them, Twilight.”

“They’re a library, right? I haven’t been able to check them out, but I can’t wait! TACT told me how many books you can store just on one holo-book, so if you’ve got a huge library full of them, I can’t even begin to fathom how many pieces of amazing literature you have. Er... why aren’t you going to eat breakfast?” she asked, trotting down the sleek hallway beside me. Doors and windows passed us by, offering a quick glance to the fast-rising sun.

“Well, sort of. It’s not exactly a regular library. There’s a reason it’s one giant hallway rather than a stuffy old room. Right in between the towers, that’s where it is. Absolutely ginormous, but trust me when I say it’s a surprise. As for eating... I’m not much for breakfast. I’ll snag a big lunch later, if it makes you happy.”

“It doesn’t really make me happy, but alright; it’s your choice, not mine,” she mused, and we stepped into a brightly lit elevator together. “Breakfast helps fuel you for the rest of the day, you know.”

“I know. It’s just a... force of habit, skipping breakfast. Halls level, please, AIA,” I said, glancing at the buttons adorning one of the walls. AIA’s figure appeared, and pulsed at me.

“Very well, Captain Amber,” the AI said. “It should be noted that, currently, Roland is supervising Rainbow Dash on the roof level. All other ponies left are still asleep, presumably due to the time lag they have experienced between their planet and yours. Premier Aaro is also requesting your assistance later today. Would you like me to schedule an appointment with the College?”

“Go ahead, AIA. I’m just introducing Twilight to the Halls, first. Are there guards stationed there?”

“Indeed. She will not be left unsupervised, sir.”

“Alright, good. Just checking. Twilight, do you remember when I showed you how the hologram device worked in my ship?” I asked, turning to the lavender unicorn next to me. She nodded.

“Yup. Why?”

“This is a bit like that. Except on a much, much bigger scale. It’s just holograms, though. Virtual reality simulation is in a different part of the building and after our last run, I don’t think it would be the best idea for you girls to start using it right off the bat. Besides, virtual reality isn’t nearly as great as holograms. Things tend to... glitch, if you say or do the wrong things. Nevermind.”

“It’s fine, Jackson. The headache wasn’t that bad, and it wasn’t your fault.”

“Still on that, eh? Alright. Name a topic, Twilight,” I said, leaning against one side of the elevator. I swear, it’s like the whole world stops while she’s trying to think really hard. Her face scrunches up all adorable-like. Brow furrowed, and lips pursed, she completely froze up, and an instant later, was the same as she always was. Bulbous pony eyes stared up at me, and she answered.

“Shields. I know unicorns can conjure them - even I can - and I’ve heard you mention them on the Homebound. I think it would be really interesting to know how yours work, and then-”

“Hold that thought,” I said, waving AIA back onscreen. “Excuse me, AIA, but do you think you could prepare a little presentation on shield technology for Twilight? Just to entertain her for a bit, of course.” The AI appeared mid-air, staring at me with its typical blank, emotionless face. Its voice was feminine, and high pitched as usual, but it felt like it was a bit deeper today.

“Jackson... are you sure? The Wing currently has the best shield technology in the galaxy. Ours rivals the Empirium, Allied Systems, and WIC Corporation’s own tech, and we’ve carefully protected it over the years. In revealing this information, you would be giving away Wing specifics to a core piece of our defenses. Please reconsider.”

“Nah, not ours. Just how they work in general. Empirium shields work differently, and the Corporation relies only on energy fields, not barriers. Personal shields, too, since we’ll eventually get down to that.”

“Very well, sir. I believe I can do that,” the computer voice responded, laying still. I nodded to Twilight when, a moment later, it glowed again. “Done, Jackson. It will be prepared when you arrive.”

“Ding,” I said, just as the elevator shuddered to a stop. The doors opened. Our breaths caught.

I recall my earlier musing on Canterlot not being all that spectacular, and this still, do this day, proves to be a correct assumption. I have seen bigger and better, of course, but I’ve also seem just some plain amazing things. First time I saw the Gantoris Halls was one of those times. The Halls themselves make up the bridge between the two Gantoris Towers, and consist of two floors, the top of which has an open railing looking down on the bottom. The windows are reinforced and usually blinded with thick black shades, putting the entire scene in a dim blue glow. Everywhere you look there are small black dots lining the wall, ranging from sheets of them on the ground, to picture-frame sized ones on the walls. Sometimes there was a wall jutting out from the clear area, filled to the brim with data storage or holo-books. This was the place where the Wing held all of its information. Calling it a library wouldn’t do it justice. It was our everything, all wrapped up in a nice little package.

And that’s without the holograms.

Jutting out from each black spot that adorned the Halls, stuck in the middle of the air like phantoms floating in space, were the mind-boggling forms of the holograms AIA had summoned. In one direction, there was a scale, blown-out model of a Mark I Victory shield capacitor - the things I came to rely on like brothers back in the day, and in another there was an active energy field surrounding a heavily armored Corporation shock trooper, the whole model spinning to show off the device on the back of the bulky suit. Sparkling like stars and reflecting off of surfaces, they juggled about the room in a fantastic light-show that even I was mildly impressed at. Twilight gaped.

“For the record,” I said, a huge grin plastering itself on my face, “this is the coolest library in the galaxy, and it’s restricted only to Wing members and select individuals because of its contents. You are one of those individuals, and I’m giving you free access to everything we know.”

“Everything?” she sputtered, eyes looking like they were going to pop out of their head.

“Everything,” I agreed.

~=V=~

-10-1-3-11-19-15-14
-23-9-12-12
-5-14-4
-5-17-21-5-19-20-18-9-1

“Ah, if it isn’t the wolf come to the lion. Quite ironic, you know?”

“Save it, ‘your majesty’, I’m just here because you invited me. It’s more like... the lion can’t get his jungle under control, and he’s asking the wolf for help, but I didn’t come all the way from Han Wavel just to prattle on with dumb metaphors. The cannon fire doesn’t help my hearing, either. Price, job, then it gets done.”

“Heh, do not worry, Wolf. I know that anything you get pointed at tends to die very... fast. I’m counting on your leadership expertise during this battle. We can get you inside the compound, yes, but they will immediately counterattack. My men are good at blitzing, but you of all people should know the chaos that they revel in. We’ll be massacred if we try to keep the fortress.”

“Can’t you just... you know?”

“They have their own; they’re blocking me, Wolf. That’s another thing I need you to do. If you can find their psychics, kill them. I’ll pay you generously for each you take care of.”

“And what makes you think I’ll do it? I’ll do anything you can pay for, but taking a job that involves being put in command of troops isn’t what I do.”

“Do you not have your own mercenary crew? You lead them every day, I hear.”

“I do, and I have a ship, but they’re all on vacation for the next two weeks and it’s up to me. Point stands, I’ll do it, but I’m not going to be happy.”

“Ha! I do not need happiness, I merely seek results that I know you can give. And, naturally, I bare no hard feelings for your past transgressions against me. If I didn’t think you could lead so well as to defeat my own army... would I not hire you?”

“I... suppose not. Just know if you try and double-cross me, I-”

“You’ll what? You’ll kill me?”

“Oh, no. I wouldn’t dream of it. I’d do so much worse, you twelve-year old abomination. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a fortress to oversee.”

Slam.

~=V=~

“Twilight,” I muttered, eyes blankly staring out the window in front of me. A shadow briefly streaked over my face. The unicorn was in her own little world far behind me, taking in every ounce of glorious information she could shove into her brain at once.

“Twilight?” I asked again, turning to glance at her. She looked up, eyes glazed over, and blinked stupidly at me.

“Wah?” She shook her head, clearing away an invisible fog that was probably cluttered with lots of swirling factoids.

“First off, don’t stare too hard at the holograms. They can be bad for your eyesight if you do it too long.” I chuckled, nodding at something beyond the window. “Secondly, you were right about Rainbow Dash. She’s really enjoying the extra airspace a planet can provide. Although I’d appreciate it if she didn’t skim the sides of our towers. It takes a lot of wax to polish these things so they shine.”

“What’s she doing?” Twilight asked, trotting up beside me to look outside, where a very obvious rainbow-trailing, physics-breaking blue dot was speeding around the towers in a figure-eight faster than I would have liked. Someone coughed behind us.

“Er, Captain Amber of the Wing?” a gruff voice asked, and I turned to see one of the faceless tower guards looking blankly at us from behind his mask. “Some of the turret operators didn’t get the message not to shoot anything colorful. We told them not to do anything, but they’re still annoyed-”

“Right,” I interrupted, reaching for my arm-bound datapad and tapping a few buttons with lightning speed. “AIA,” I said into the device. “Contact Roland for me, please? Tell him to get down here ASAP.”

“On it, Jackson,” the AI replied, my datapad blinking off a moment later. Adopting a businesslike stance, I turned to the guard.

“Could you unlock the balcony door over there? And give me your sidearm.” He nodded, slowly, and tossed me the dark grey pistol that I recognized and suddenly didn’t want to be holding. On the side, blatant as could be, was a decal of a dragon intertwined with a gear. Dragon Tech, the arch nemesis of Kaiden Tech, and leading weapons supplier to the Wing. I looked up, ignoring Twilight’s curious gaze, to see the guard nodding toward an opened glass door that could look like a window on any other day.

The air whipped past us as we exited the building, the guard opting to stay behind in the relative safety of not being half a mile above the surface. Over the roar, I turned to see Twilight looking up at me with fearful eyes. “Are you sure this is safe?” she yelled through the gale, pointing with her horn at the tiny railing that made up the so-called balcony we were perched on. I shook my head, staring ruefully at the pistol in my hands.

“Nope, probably not. Do you have like, some sort of flare spell to get her attention?”

“Were you going to use that on her?” Twilight screamed, staring at the pistol in my hands. I followed her gaze, and shook my head.

“No! Well not really. Just with the energy output on maximum low. The worst that would do if it hit would make her a bit warm on the spot. Good for winter camping and preventing frostbite.” I frowned, and contemplated tossing the weapon off the building in order to save face. “Do you have something to get her attention or not?”

“Yes!” Twilight shouted, and just in time, Rainbow passed us; she didn’t get very far, because in another round of the screw-physics game, Twilight caught her in a levitation spell and stopped her mid-air. “Rainbow!”

“What,” I said dumbly.

“What gives, Twilight?” Rainbow shouted, struggling in her invisible bonds. “I was on my hundredth lap! That’d be a new record for me!” I frowned, turned, and slowly stepped back through the door.

“Sir?” the guard asked. I placed the pistol in his waiting hand, which he gladly returned to his holster. “What just happened? I’d heard those things were psychic, but-”

“Sir?” another voice called, and I turned to see Roland approaching. Ignoring him, I turned back to the other man. Twilight and Rainbow walked in from the balcony, taking places behind me.

“Not another word. And, well, thanks for not shooting her with an anti-aircraft turret,” I said, rolling my eyes at the guard. He saluted, the expression under his mask hidden from any interpretation, but the speed of his exit blatantly said he was mortified. Anyone in the Wing knows what happens to people who threaten my friends. Firing a hand warmer was one thing, but I wasn’t going to be the one begging for forgiveness when Celestia asked why I had returned her an overcooked turkey instead of a pegasus.

“And you know what? Why don’t you guys clean up your air, too? It smells awful way up high,” Rainbow complained, already up and bouncing from hoof to hoof like an athlete ready for a race. Roland stood a few meters to her right, hand covering his head out of exasperation.

“Excuse me, missy. You’re in the most advanced city in Wing space. Our air doesn’t get to smell like flowers or whatever,” I shot back, shaking my head at the absurdity of it all. I turned around to face Roland, raising an eyebrow. “And you look bit worse-for-wear. This bird running you dry?”

“You have no idea... but at least I’m not Dylan,” he replied, yawning. “And I’m tired, too. We stayed up pretty late last night.” I snorted, a smirk spreading along my lips. The ensign gagged, waving dismissively. “No, we were just talking. We’ve had a lot to catch up on, you know.” He shrugged wearily, and walked with stiff legs over to lean on the window.

“I can imagine,” I said, nodding and following him carefully with my eyes. “I can’t have my crew constantly worn out, though. You need to rest up.” I looked over at Rainbow Dash, who was chatting with Twilight about something I didn’t care to eavesdrop upon. “For the sake of things...” I started, frowning more and more the longer I looked at Rainbow’s energetic and enigmatic hoof movements in the air, body twirling in a wing-fluttering loop-the-loop once or twice. “I think that’ll be an order. I’ll take Dash off your hoo-... hands, and you can watch Twilight. Maybe take a nap. She’s just going to be absorbed in getting information, at least until her friends finish breakfast and join her down here. I’ve got to do some things anyways.”

“Really?” he asked, eyes wide. “I mean, I’ve heard from the other crew that Rainbow isn’t your biggest fan... are you sure, sir? I’d really enjoy a nap, though...”

“It’s no problem, Roland,” I assured him, smiling. “Just... make sure she doesn’t access anything that could corrupt her mindset on us. I’ve already told AIA to deny her whenever she gets to something particularly nasty, like Hazar or the BAI, or anything that might completely change her image of myself, like...”

“Blood Valley?” Roland offered in whisper, frowning.

“Exactly like Blood Valley. I trust AIA, since she’s one of our most advanced supercomputer AI’s, but a human-variant element would help too. Right? So don’t take a nap for too long.” I looked back to Rainbow and Twilight, who seemed to be more engrossed than ever.

“Yessir. Got it, sir.”

“Right. Rainbow Dash?” I called, full turning to the two ponies. Some of the window light glared into my eyes, and I squinted involuntarily.

“Yeah, Captain Amber?” Rainbow looked to me with a blank expression, most likely apathetic to whatever I might say. “What’s up?”

“I’ve talked with Roland, and you’ve worn him out pretty bad. I don’t like my toys broken, got it?” I smirked, already sensing the tension tightening in her chest - or barrel, whatever it was called, and my smile grew just to spite her. “Rhetorical question. Sorry, RD, but you’re on the bench and with me today. Twilight, Roland will look after you for now.”

“What?” she exclaimed, wings and other limbs stretching out in surprise. “But I like Roland! He’s cool with whatever I do! Come on, buddy, have my back on this one!”

“Sorry, Rainbow,” Roland huffed, frowning, “but I’m dead-tired. I can’t run around the building like you’ve been making me do for the past two hours.”

“B-but-”

“And guess what I’ve got to do, Rainbow?” I asked, grin widening in sick satisfaction at her discomfort. She stared at me, eyes as big as plates. “Boring. Horrible. Desk work.”

“Oh, feathers,” she said, pupils shrinking to pinpricks.

~=V=~

Typically, I’m not cruel, I swear, but something about the times she had pushed me around in the ship sparked this little flame of revenge that I couldn’t put out. Unluckily for Rainbow Dash, what qualified as desk work for me probably was the same thing back home, at least by her reaction. Every once and awhile, I looked at my discarded datapad for the time. It seemed to be going awfully slow.

“Are you done now?”

“No.”

“Are you done now?”

“No.” I scribbled my signature on another piece of paper, having only glazed across it. Often times, when I was like this, I could just faintly block out everything I was seeing, but now I had to do it with every other sense.

“Are you done now?”

“No,” I said, this time louder. I don’t know why I chose then to register annoyance, since it had been going on steadily for the past five minutes, but I did, and I lifted up the paper I was about ready to shove into another pile. “To the Wing Military College of Higher Ranks, as forwarded by the Gantoris Planetary Council. Yadda, with respect, the Teryn Dianateray of Feros Tyr and Ulwor Representing the people of the Delta Pi system. You must know we are in dire need of space navy reinforcements. The border between the Wing and Orglock militaries offers us both in our time of aid, but with the news that the warlord E is threatening the Wing once again, we are hopelessly outnumbered on the edge of Wing territory. Our people are scared and need reassurance that the Wing can support us. We have several teams ready to help crew ships that need it and our own garrison will be able to help however possible.”

“Why does this even matter?” Rainbow groaned, rolling on her back. My grey metal desk, which was, naturally, in my office, was small, gleaming, and the only other object in the room beside my chair was a small sofa.

“If it is at all possible, please send at least one battlecruiser and two escort ships our way. The morale of our people depends on your response, but we understand the Wing is spread thin as it is, and have sent the same request to the Orglock military. Please respond.” I set the paper aside, doing nothing, and stared hard at Rainbow Dash. “Do you think I should give them some ships, Rainbow? Just one battlecruiser and two heavy frigates, all for them? Should I send more, do you think?”

“How should I know? You’re the one who has been doing this his whole life, apparently,” Rainbow said, shrugged from her awkward position on the lounge sofa. “Go ahead.”

“Ah, but that’s not all, I assure you,” I said, picking up another order form. “Thing is, you see, all of these get directed to me because I am the only Captain other than York and another to own not just a ship, but a whole fleet of ships. It’s called the Liberty Fleet, actually, sponsored and entirely built by Kaiden Tech, which is also my personal company. It is made up of sixteen different ships, only two of them battlecruisers. One, the Archangel IV, is located at Han Wavel with most of the other ships, while the other, the Golden II, is located right above Gantoris, the only current battlecruiser in orbit. I can’t move any of them without leaving one place greatly under-defended, but again, that’s not the whole story.”

“Alright...” Rainbow muttered, sitting up and looking at me inquisitively. “Go on.”

“I have a second requisitions form right here,” I said, holding up the paper. “It’s from the governing body of Draxis Ferys, in the Kelta system. The last time E attacked, we pooled most of our forces there at one point, and they still failed. The Capitol of the planet was destroyed and their pride and joy, the Tolos Station, was targeted next. Restoring their faith in the Wing has been a... troubling endeavor, but it’s a priority. However, they are far more protected than Delta Pi and Feros Tyr are as a whole. The draxians are a capable people, but they still need us.”

“Yeah, so what are you going to do?” Rainbow asked, tilting her head. I shrugged, and pushed both papers toward her. “Er-”

“I’m not going to do anything. I’m letting you decide,” I said, grinning like a humble man at the gallows. “Out of the two battlecruisers, Archangel and Golden, which do I sacrifice? Frigates are nothing to produce, so that doesn’t matter to me. Which ship do I move where?”

“That’s not really a fair question, I didn’t... uh,” Rainbow swallowed, furrowing her brow. “How...?”

“Keep in mind that your decision will not affect millions of people. It will not affect billions. It will decide, most likely, the fates of trillions of people who are living in the four systems that could be directly harmed by your decision.”

“Well... uh, you could take the ship at the place where we’re at... and move it to the Fer- the first place you mentioned, since I guess that letter sounded kinda dire.”

“It’s a dire situation for everyone,” I said, nodding. “Very well. Gantoris will be left undefended, giving E ample opportunity to overpower us and take out the Wing’s heart, rather than a sliver of its ear. Feros Tyr will be well defended, and we’ll be sitting ducks. Oh, and the draxians will be undefended as well, so they might be conquered even before Gantoris is. Brilliant plan. ”

“But, wait, can’t you move the other ship to Gantoris, too?” Rainbow asked, gulping. “I mean, who the hay cares what the draxigon guys think, right? They should be able to take care of themselves.”

“Right. Han Wavel is now undefended and will most likely be taken over, removing one of the Wing’s best shipyards from its grasp. We are without means to produce more support ships, Feros Tyr is happy and protected, those draxigon guys all are enslaved, and we last just a little bit longer before we’re taken out. Think harder.”

“W-wait! Then don’t move them at all. Can’t you make a new battlecruiser if you have ship building places - I mean, I think you can build those there, right?” Rainbow rattled off, fumbling for ground. She stood up on the couch, forehooves propped on the desk. “Then everyone can be protected, right?”

“Possibly, if our enemy doesn’t attack for... a month or so. Probably longer, since it’s wartime. So if we hold off for about four months, then we can get everyone fully protected. I don’t think they’re going to give us those four months. Think. Harder. If you were me, what would you do? You have every single resource I do right now, including my friends in the Wing. Use them wisely.”

“Uh... alright then,” Rainbow said, biting her lower lip. A few seconds passed, and she started to tap on the desk with her left front hoof. “Hm... you don’t just have the battler thingies, right? You’ve got other stuff? Can’t you just use a bunch of them instead of a battle thing?”

“Possibly,” I mused, narrowing my eyes. “But it takes a lot of frigates and men to replace one battlecruiser. I’d reckon about ten would do it. Unfortunately, that’s about as much as the Liberty Fleet has. We can’t afford to put them anywhere else. Try again.”

“Something’s telling me you’re making this unwinnable just ‘cause you don’t like me,” Rainbow grumbled, plopping back into her seat. “I don’t want to play this game if you’re going to be like that.” I smacked my hand on the table, sitting up straighter and drawing her eye.

“This game isn’t a game. This is real life that we are currently going through right now. I know Twilight told you guys about what I showed her in the simulator, so you can take this as your test, Rainbow, except unlike with Twilight, this one is real, and it definitely is unwinnable by your standards.” I sniffed, and shoved my chair into the back wall as I stood up. “I know Equestria has a military. I’ve seen part of it, greeting me with pathetic pointed sticks as I got off my spaceship capable of faster-than-light speeds in armor that wouldn’t even be dented by your best weapons. This is the kind of stuff a leader like me has to deal with, Rainbow, and if you can’t deal with, at least respect the ones who can.”

“Hey! I do respect you, I just don’t like getting pushed around and lied to!” Rainbow yelled, jumping and hovering in the air so she could scream at me eye-to-eye. Maybe she had qualms with necessary white lies - even of omittance, but heck if they hadn’t gotten me out of hot water before.

“Well if you did respect me, you sure wouldn’t be talking to me in that tone,” I chided, marching around the desk. “You can know that you also failed the test, Rainbow. Twilight’s was a simple moral question. The others didn’t even get a test. Yours? All you had to do was use your brain a little bit. Think outside the box you put yourself in. I was told by Celestia that you wanted to join something called the Wondervolts or somesuch. I can tell you right now that if you can’t solve this test, you’re definitely not getting into any sort of job that requires cooperation.”

“Did you seriously just call me dumb?” Rainbow shouted, coming up to me and pressing her head against mine. “Permission to use that free punch to the face, Captain?”

“Denied,” I sneered, pushing my face against hers with equal force. “You want to fight me, you’re going to do it on equal grounds, in the hallway, duel style. Honorable fisticuffs. The whole jig.”

“Ooh, I’m going to honorably fisticuff you right into the ground!” Rainbow said, backing the two of us in a straight line, headed right for the door. She held her two forehooves up, swiveling them in adorable little circles. “I’ve got five years of martial arts training on you, buddy!”

“And I’ve got over ten years of military experience, and that includes martial arts and close-quarters combat,” I hissed back, tearing off my jacket uniform to leave my white t-shirt as my only top covering. The rainbow pegasus swooped backwards, did a quick loop-the-loop, and hovered a couple meters down the empty hallway, hooves held up in the most hilarious aggressive posture I’d ever seen.

“Pfft... well, I can fly.” She smirked, defying the laws of physics to stretch out her wings just to emphasize the point.

“I have opposable thumbs,” I bragged, waggling my fingers before returning them to their fist-form. “Basic rules: no crotch-shots, no aiming for the head, and don’t look to break bones. Just no fighting dirty in general. Think you can handle it, rainbow-butt?”

“Bring it on, paleface,” she replied, not even waiting for me to properly announce the start. With speed that I hadn’t thought would be possible to go into after being stationary, the mare zipped toward me with one hoof cocked back.

I blinked, and swung to the side at the last second, my left arm shoving her hoof away from my chest as I twirled around to face her exposed back. She sped away, missing me by inches, and on an instinctual whim I smacked her lightning-shaped cutie-mark with the back of my hand.

“Oi, no being mean. It’s not my fault I’ve got fair skin.”

“Yow! I thought this was a punch-and-kick kind of fight, not slapping,” Rainbow shot back, bobbing in the air with her aggressive hooves lifted up, smirking. “Or was that your punch?”

Dash swooped at me again, and this time corrected mid-flight against my sidestep. Cyan body barreling into me, hooves first, I did the only thing I could think of doing: clamp down on her wings with both arms. “Ow!” she yelped, and we both tumbled to the ground, reeling from both attacks. I got up first.

“Nice one, but if that’s your best, we’ve got a problem,” I laughed, rolling back to my feet in one practiced movement, only to be met with a quick hoof to the chest by Rainbow Dash. “Oof.” I blinked; she was already up and flying, and another hoof was heading my way. Right arm swinging upwards to block, my left swung in to clobber her exposed right side. Both connected on their marks.

“Poor form,” I said, reversing my arms to block a strike against my other side. My body jerked from the impact, and my arm stung, but it was nicer than being smacked around by that dark-matter hoof of hers. “I’ve seen cadets do better after a week of training.” I smacked her in the barrel with the back of my hand, grinning. “Serious- whoa!” I ducked under her, swinging behind her to dodge another wild kick.

“Stop moving and let me hit you!” she yelled, spinning around with a back leg outstretched. I brought up both arms, fists clenched, to shield myself. We connected, and I was launched into the wall with my arms screaming in protest. I slumped against the flat surface, arms drooping. “Finally!”

“That’s one heck of a bite...” I grumbled, shaking my head and ducking to the side just in time to avoid another kick to the chest. Using the bottom of my fists, I supplied two quick pounds on her exposed underside and backed off as she reeled away. “Come on, come on. If you’re such an expert, you’d have beaten me by now. Heck, Pinkie Pie or Rarity would’ve won at this point.”

“And what about Fluttershy?” Rainbow grunted, getting ready to rush me again. I put some energy into smirking.

“I’m insulting, not insane.” I shrugged, holding my own fists up. She charged.

“Hiiyaah!” she roared. One arm blocking, I sent the other one swinging toward her side, only to be met with a block of her own; we were locked for the briefest of seconds, and then I threw my right arm back, swinging my left to the front in a blocking stance. Both of us, without a moment to spare, struck. The side of my first impacted her side, and her hoof grazed my chest. I jolted from the flash of pressure, but stood my ground, and then I swung again.

We repeated that cycle at least twice, I would block her attacks, she’d get slapped around a bit by my abnormally soft hits. In the classic struggle of power versus agility, I didn’t know how or when it would end. I would block, then slap her sides a bit, then be forced to block again. Eventually even my calloused and bandaged arms failed me.

“Oof,” I gasped, shoved back from a surprise blow. Somewhere inside me, I told myself I had just been toying with her; that I didn’t really want to hurt her. Well, my arms stung and it felt like the wounds under the bandages had reopened, and she was sitting pretty as ever, floating in the air with a big dumb smirk on her face. Gathering my strength and pushing my feet into the ground, I waited until she charged, and she inevitably did.

Rainbow Dash passed me, eyes bulging as I slid to the side, slapping her hindquarters with the bottom of my left fist. Eyes still wide, this time with a grin, Rainbow broke physics and changed direction mid-air, propelling herself off the wall with her forehooves a moment later. She bucked me.

Ponies are dirty cheats.

I groaned, rolling on my side fifteen or so meters away. Shakily, I stood up, and grinned despite the pain in my arms. “What? That’s all you got?”

“Seriously? I’ve taken down whole buildings before! You wanna bet that’s all I got?” Rainbow sneered.

“Yes,” I said a moment later, already calculating her trajectory as she readied her charge. If that was her end-game move, this would be mine, that was for sure. “Because, let’s be honest, you’re not very good at this. When was the last time you actually got to use those five years of martial arts training?”

“About a month ago,” she answered, planting her back hooves on the wall. “It was when the changelings invaded and tried to take over Canterlot. You can make all the bets you want, because I got to kick some serious flank that day!”

“What-” I started, stopping myself when the mare launched through the air and straight in my direction. Her forehooves were outstretched, ready to pummel me, but there was one thing she wasn’t counting on. Right when she got into arm’s reach, I balled my hands into one big fist and slid them up between her forelegs, slamming into her barrel and stopping her midair. I could swear I heard glass shattering when her physics-breaking rainbow trail stopped short.

Grimacing through the hot lava that my arms seemed to be dipped in, I separated my arms and swung them around to scissor-cut her body horizontally. My fists impacted, and from the strangled look on her face, I knew the fight was over.

By then, both of us were tumbling through the air and falling to the merciless ground. My initial move obviously wasn’t very effective at stopping her completely. I rolled on the ground, stopping next to her, and for a while we just sat there breathing so loud it was the only thing we could hear. Among the thumping in my chest, another problem was that my arms were hurting so bad they were going numb.

“My whole body hurts,” Rainbow said. I wheezed.

“You act like you’ve never been kicked back. What was that about changelings?” I asked, cringing and rolling onto my side.

“They were like, crazy bug-pony things that sucked emotion out of us or something,” Rainbow said, looking toward me from her sprawling position on the ground. “They tried to take over Equestria by taking over Canterlot. The girls and I kicked them around for a while, but there were too many of them so we kinda had to surrender.”

“And...?” I raised and eyebrow, pouring all my leftover energy into remembering what she would say next.

“We cheated, I think. Cadance and Twilight’s brother touched their horns and a giant heart blasted all of the changelings into next year. Don’t tell anypony else, but I thought it was kinda lame,” Rainbow chuckled, a stupid smile on her face.

“Princess Celestia never told me about that,” I said, shifting into a more comfortable position - which was still sprawling out on the hard metal tile floor. “She said you guys hadn’t had a major conflict in hundreds of years, other than that Discord guy.” Dash snorted.

“I bet she didn’t. No offense to her, but the changeling queen knocked her out in like... one spell. We were on our way to get the Elements of Harmony when the changelings ambushed us.”

“Oh. Well I can understand that one. I’ve rarely met a good enough leader who enjoys admitting being defeated easily, and I hope that with the Wing protecting Equestrian space, you guys can work out some sort of global alliance. It makes politics much easier on us, otherwise we get accused of favoritism over one nation, and it just....” I sighed, waving my hand wistfully in a downward spiral. Staring at Rainbow, I blinked. “She didn’t tell me a lot about what the Elements of Harmony were, other than that you six... er, sans Spike, represent each one. Is it some sort of religious thing or-”

“Whoa,” a new voice said, and while it took a second for me to recognize it, Rainbow Dash looked up behind me with an expression of annoyance. “Captain Amber, how unprofessional. You could at least do this kind of thing in your office and not out in the hallway. Or at the very least, let me watch and take notes.”

“Sorry, Admiral Uske,” I groaned, rolling over to face him. The tall, clean-shaven man with a heart made of gold and full of strobe lights reached out and offered me a hand; I gladly accepted it. “I, gah, will take your advice in the future, but I was afraid we’d break a window or something.” I stumbled to my feet, wobbling to the side while he went to help Rainbow up. I scrunched up my face. “Wait...”

“You gave him a good run, right? I hear he’s tough at times.” San asked, kneeling down to help the pegasus up. She silently nodded, proud for some reason, and I looked on with a blank expression. He laughed, scooped up my jacket, and tossed it to me with all the seriousness of a comedy relief performer in the middle of his act. “So which one of you came out on top?”

“Um, I think it was a draw.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding knowingly before facing me. “Well there’s a quick meeting going on in the briefing room if you want to come. Captain York and Captain Mity just arrived and we’re discussing fleet movements. I went down to look for you in the Halls, but it was only Twilight and her guard and no you. They’re actually waiting for us too, so if you don’t mind....”

“Captain Mity standing in for Sven, I presume?” I asked, slowly, because every movement made my arms sting worse, putting on my jacket. San nodded, waiting. “He still working on the Dark Fleet projects?”

“Indeed, although why he isn’t showing up, only Aaro and Clover seem to know,” the Admiral said, shaking his head and turning around. “Well you can come as you wish. Just, next time you two duel, try to do it somewhere where you won’t get hurt. I’d rather one of our best captains wasn’t severely injured because he got bucked out of a window. Virtual simulators are very popular this time of year.”

I blinked away something I couldn’t put into words even if I tried, and turned to face Dash. “Care to see the fun part of fleet management, then? It’s a lot nicer than signing papers.”

“Sure. Beats watching you in that stuffy office of yours,” Rainbow said, grinning. “Now, you wanted to know about the Elements of Harmony, right?”

“Yes,” I said, looking off to the side as we tailed far behind the Admiral. The blank, dull hallways opened up into a wonderful windowed view of the bustling Gantoris afternoon. Lunch would be soon. “A briefing on that would be nice, considering how important it sounds.”

“Right! Well, the Elements are basically these super-gem things that, according to Twilight and the Princess, each represent an element of harmony that... er, create harmony, I guess. That’s, uh, kindness, laughter, generosity, honesty, loyalty, and magic.”

“I can take six guesses and get each one right. You’re loyalty,” I said, smiling down at Rainbow, who trotted beside me in a way that would prevent anyone from guessing she’d just been in a high-stakes duel. The stakes being her pride.

“Yup! And together, if we all use the Elements with our friendship, it’s capable of blasting any enemy of Equestria or ‘agent of chaos’ we point it a- ac-oochhhf!”

I jerked to a stop, wide eyed as she burst into a strangled coughing fit. I knelt to one knee, and reached out - stopping only when the coughing ceased as quick as it began. With one last gurgle, she shook her head in exasperation.

“Rainbow, you alright?” I asked, a few more than helpful thoughts coming to the forefront of my thoughts.

“Yeah, it’s all cool. Just something in my throat I guess,” she said, and we were on our way once more. “Anyways, the Elements pretty much stop any bad guy that threatens Equestria. We’ve stopped Nightmare Moon, Discord, and... well... that’s it, I guess, but we only got them like two years ago!”

“So it... destroys them?” I asked, part of me regretting the question. She scoffed.

“No... well I didn’t really understand what it did to Nightmare Moon, since she was technically Luna or something. Discord got turned into stone, this time for good, and... no. No destroying. Wouldn’t that kind of go against the idea of harmony if it did? Twilight said something like that when I asked her about Nightmare Moon.”

“I guess so,” I muttered, part of my mind suddenly on the mental track of what the Wing could do with such a thing. With a weapon like that, we’d surely be one of the most well defended territories in the galaxy. Then, maybe, we could even expand our borders a bit.

I had to mentally slap myself for even wondering how to weaponize something incorruptible by definition. It was blatantly obvious that even attempting it could backhand me into nonexistence. Magic as the ponies called it, or psych as we called it, wasn’t something the Wing liked to involve itself in for good reason.

“Why didn’t Princess Celestia tell you about it?” Rainbow ashed, looking at me questioningly. “That’s like, the reason Twilight or any of us even met each other. We wouldn’t even be friends if we didn’t have to go find the Elements when Nightmare Moon returned. It doesn’t seem like her at all to leave them out.”

“I don’t know, Rainbow,” I said, shaking my head. “But I wish she would have. So I guess with the Elements of Harmony thing, you really have to rely on your friends, right?”

“Well, I guess so, but usually it’s them relying on me,” she said, grinning smugly.

“Well that explains it,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You’d think, even with all of that, you’d be able to pass my little test with ease.”

“I already told you I’m not answering your dumb unwinnable question,” Rainbow shot, her grin flipping in record time. “There’s no way I could pass it and you know it. I get it, alright? Being a leader is super hard and you have to make sacrifices and stuff. Lesson learned.”

“While that is true,” I said, smirking, “it wasn’t the lesson I was trying to get across. You know there’s a super, super easy way to pass it, right? It might’ve been a bit unfair for me not to mention it, but like I said, you needed to think outside of your box.”

“Fine, fine, I guess I give up. What’s the answer?” Rainbow asked, rolling her enormous eyeballs at me. I chuckled, and resisted laughing when they bugged out at my answer.

“Ask for help.”

“What?”

“Simple,” I said, waving my hand nonchalantly at the thriving city beyond. “Nobody in the military does anything by himself. Heck, not a lot of people get anything done without some sort of outside help. My own fleet isn’t capable of sacrificing any ships, mostly because it’s heavily specialized and very small, but that doesn’t mean another fleet isn’t able to spare a battlecruiser.”

“The orders came to my desk, but in the name of cooperation, I can just ask another fleet leader to send their ships off, and because they know I can’t spare ships, they can, and the homes and families that are depending on us need it, they will. At some point every leader needs to sacrifice their pride and ask for help, and then know when to ask for it.” I stopped, nodding at a dark gray door the Admiral had just walked through.

“Oh... I guess that makes sense... wow. I, er, kinda feel stupid now,” Rainbow said, rubbing the back of her head with one hoof. “And achey. I still hurt all over from that fight.”

“So do I.” I chucked, waving her off and silently thanking God she’d gotten over her snippyness. “Just remember that there’s no shame in asking for help if you really need it. Pride will only get you so far, but your integrity and humility will get you farther. And don’t roughhouse people who control your air supply and food. And talk to people if you think they’re being smarmy lying sods.”

“Right. About that last part-” she started, but stopped when the door before us opened and the hallway was filled with red lights. An alarm blared.

~=V=~

(21) Our Sole Burden

-Gantoris Towers, Ophelius, Gantoris.
-Two-and-a-half days after landing.

-Higher Apartments.

-

“What’s going on?” I asked as a panicked officer rushed past me. Beyond the flashing lights and bright terminals, I could barely make out the massive star-map that took up a huge table all on its own. Behind that table, I could see the admirals discussing something fervently.

“Lieutenant Ty Ty En, sir,” the teryn officer said just as I recognized him. We’d worked together on many occasions, but right now, it was just business. “We just got a ping from the Alteria system, something from all the way past the edge of LRA territory.” He looked over his shoulder, nodding at another passing alien officer. “We just confirmed the location of E’s primary combat fleet, and we’re setting up to compensate. Mostly concerning Wing territory governments - who are all in contact with us at the moment. You’re the one with the Equestrians, right?”

“I suppose I’m that ‘one’,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “Thanks for the briefing, lieutenant. You’re free to go.”

“Yessir,” he said, gone in an instant and jogging off to one of the groups on the other side of the room. I sighed, eyes being drawn to the controlled chaos. The Wing command center in the Gantoris Towers wasn’t nearly as impressive as the one in Maximus, but it was a close second. While Maximus had the typical draxian flare of putting on a clean shaven look, with white tiled floors and walls, the one down here was much softer on the eyes and equally harder on your fashion sense. Dull gray lined the ceiling and walls, only stopping to make way for the obligatory Wing power bands that stretched around each wall at chest-height.

On the other side of the room, under three enormous holo-screens that spouted out scrolling data like nobody’s business, was a raised platform sparing no room for empty space. If it wasn’t where you were supposed to walk, there was a terminal and a desk there. A comfortable chair sitting behind it, just calling for long hours. Taking up most of the space in the middle was a huge, indented holographic starmap, broadcasting the Wing systems, fleets, and activity-in-general, to everyone who bothered to look at it. Streaking lines representing ships would jolt to a stop around a miniature planet, orbiting an only slightly larger sun. It wasn’t to-scale, but for tracking fleet movements, it was the thing we needed.

Wrapped along the holographic map was a small, foot-wide table, and around that, sitting in gold-trimmed chairs, were some of the men I’d come to trust my life with hundreds of times over. Ganymede, who hunched over a particular floating hologram of a spiked, deadly looking ship, spoke to the ecstatic Uske sitting next to him, and then tossed the hologram over to the other admiral as if it were nothing but a child’s toy ball. Zalthice and Grezz, taking up almost four meters of space just standing up, pointed to red-tinted systems on the map, speaking in hushed tones that I couldn’t hear over the alarm.

“Jackson!” a familiar voice called, and I looked toward another part of the table, the end part. Sitting on one side was Dylan, in the bright golden chair that had been used by the original founder of the Wing, but he was leaned over the corner of the map to speak with the ever-masked draxian admiral. Aaro, next to Dylan, was the one waving me over, and occupying one of the three chairs next to him was Twilight. “Over here!”

“Well then,” I said, looking down to Rainbow. “I guess this is that fun part I mentioned. It shouldn’t take very long, but...” I shook my head and gestured to the free seats before us. “Onwards.”

“Gotcha, Captain,” Rainbow said, grinning. She hopped over to the seat, immedaitely starting up a conversation with the unicorn next to her, while I wandered over to mine with an uncertain expression. The alarm bored into my ears like twin drills.

“I’m here, Aaro,” I said, eyes now adjusted to the dim lightning. I plopped down in my seat, making sure to check on Twilight and Rainbow. Twilight had obviously been here a while, judging from how far she had sunk into the plush seat, and both had their ears down to block out the alarm. I didn’t pay attention to what they were talking about, because it was obvious Twilight was pestering her about something and I knew not to interrupt her during something like that.

“Well I can see that. You look a bit scruffy, though. I’ve never seen your hair so messed up on a civilized planet before,” Aaro laughed, his pale red face virtually indistinguishable from the rest of the red-tinted room before us. He sighed, and looked at the map before us. On cue, the holograms shrunk in size, until our own systems were nothing more than gold-tinted dots on an ever growing scale model of our galactic arm. More multi-colored dots filled the board, ranging from bright reds, green striped blacks, and colors I didn’t even know the name of but looked sort of like a greenish purple. It grew until our own golden territory became a hardly significant dot amongst the others. “As you can see. The board lies unchanged.”

“As always,” I muttered, breathing deeply. “Fleet movement holograms aren’t active, yet?”

“No, but I’ve seen them, and you won’t be pleased,” he answered, shaking his head. We both slumped, and while he looked to the map, I turned my head to the ponies. “By the way, both the Valkyrie modifications and headsets are done, you can snag them from the armory downstairs. I’ll follow you down, you know, just to make sure you put them on right.” He looked up, following my gaze. “The purple one is curious to learn everything about everything, and then some more. I bet you she’d be a good engineer.”

“Don’t you dare think about hiring her into your inferior company. If she shows any technological prowess, she’s mine and you know it. Or if anyone, she belongs to Equestria. They’re going to need smart ponies on their side,” I shot back, smirking. “How long until the meeting starts?”

“A few minutes, officially. I just got back from a meeting with Dylan and the Gantoris leaders. They’re really... tense about everything that’s happening. We barely managed to save Gantoris the first time E launched a campaign against us, and if he’s learned from his faults the last time, we can count on it being much harder.” He bit his lower lip, frowning deeply at the star map. “He just has to skip past a few systems in order to get to us. If he has the fuel, he can just march right up to our doorstep this time. Half of the Alpha Fleet is still gone.”

“We’ll rebuild, but don’t even mention the Derelict yet,” I said, sinking into my chair. “If he’s got one with weapons, we might as well give mass evacuation orders to all our systems right now, and I don’t even want to think about where we would exodus to.”

“Hey, Jackson?” Twilight asked. I scooted around in my chair, one leg hanging off the side, to face her fully. Rainbow scowled on the other side of Twilight, without any intended target. Twilight looked exactly the same, but the difference was that it was directed at me. Ponies looked adorable when they were angry. “Why in the name of Celestia did you fight Rainbow Dash?”

“Well, she challenged me to honorable fisticuffs,” I said, blinking like a kid who just realized his mom was watching him reach into the cookie jar. “My honor was at stake.”

“Even if she was angry, that’s no reason to go ahead and do it. You could’ve hurt each other really badly,” Twilight said, her anger washing away to a strained look of hurt. “I know from experience that most ponies are willing to work things out just by talking, not by fighting. I know you and Rainbow could have solved it without violence.”

“Right, right,” I said, holding my hands up in mock surrender. “I realize that our customs might seem a bit barbaric to you, but you got me, Twilight. For the sake of closing this case, I won’t accept and more violent challenges from your friends. Enabling isn’t what I meant to do.”

“Thank you,” Twilight said, sighing in relief. “I just want this trip to be fun for everypony, so I’d rather we didn’t fight during it. Although... whatever’s going on here doesn’t seem like fun, since apparently some jerk has been threatening you guys. That stupid alarm has been blaring for forever, and nopony wants to explain why we’re all here.”

“Ah, well,” I said, looking up to the command center on the platform behind the starmap. “Hey! Knuckleheads up there! Care to turn off that sodding alarm, will ya?” I shouted, and more than one officer in my line of fire spasmed and jerked to the controls in order to, probably, either get brownie points to simply avoid my wrath.

“Well, thanks,” Twilight muttered. The red lights blinked off all around us, slowly returning the room to a dull grey, and the noise left us with only a minor ringing in my ears.

“Right then, you two, listen carefully,” I said, both of the ponies staring intently at me. Aaro, I knew, was watching behind my back, but I didn’t have to impress him. “Rainbow told me about the changeling invasion however many weeks ago, Twilight, so I know you know what that word means.”

“Changeling?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“No, invasion.” I shook my head, shifting into a straight sitting position. “E, who you know about, is a madman and a warlord. In fact, he makes Sorlor look sane at times. He’s arrogant, crafty, and above all, he has a massive grudge against the Wing and the Empirium. Maybe it was that we stopped his attempt to conquer the galaxy once before, and he’s just trying to regain his pride, or maybe it’s something more. All we know is that he’s regrouped with a new army, just as loyal and dangerous as the first one. He’s extremely dangerous, and he’s getting ready to invade us.” I stood up, pointing to a very specific murky green splotch of territory on the map, one that was even smaller than the Wing’s.

“That’s E’s empire. No tourism. No immigration to or from. If he’s not controlling it, it must be crushed or assimilated within a day. How he manages to live with the knowledge the rest of the galaxy isn’t under his boot, I don’t even want to know. He’s tried before, almost won, and now he’s trying again. We will stop him; that’s all you really need to know.”

“Oh,” she said, tilting her head sideways. “Well he’s pretty far away, it looks like. We ended up figuring out that the changeling queen had set up her hive in the Equestrian badlands. Managing to get to us made sense, but how this ‘warlord’ is going to cross that much space just to get at you, well, doesn’t make any sense. That distance, even scaled down to Equestria’s size, just doesn’t seem possible purely for revenge.” She paused, leaning over the table to get a closer look at the map. “I don’t know a lot about armies - Equestria doesn’t really have one other than the royal guard, but I do know it’s not feasible by our standards.”

“Well, that’s just it, then. Your standards,” I replied curtly, holding up my arm to type a few things onto my datapad. “Because starships move really, really fast, and while our shields, weapons, and armor are all pretty advanced compared to most other militaries in the galaxy, E’s larger ships have a lot more advanced propulsion systems. That makes them better at quick, decisive surprise attacks, and that’s exactly what a good invasion needs. Other than that, we only know what we scrapped from his destroyed ships during the first war. He’s still... mysterious to us, really.” I paused, staring at the screen. “Speaking of starships. It looks like they’re just finishing up adding a few of the extra things I asked them to put in the Homebound. The chairs designed for you girls, which are also in the Fate, have been spread out. Some, ah, nicer, comfortable, more private sleeping areas. A heavily vegetarian food stockpile, and more weapons and gear in the armory. I think they’re still installing the silent-running stealth systems, though. What do you think?”

“I think it’s great that you’re adding some more comfortable seats, for one. ” Twilight quipped, shrugging. “The old ones were a pain in the flank. Rainbow Dash was about to give you an earful before we arrived.”

“I’m glad she didn’t. Isn’t that right, Miss Dash?”

“Huh?!” The pegasus jerked, looking up from her seat. She stared at me, glaring. “What?”

“You can take a nap if you want to. It’s totally fine. Just remember that after this, I want to take you girls down to the armory to see how Aaro’s gear fits on you,” I said, smiling.

She shrugged again. “I’m just, uh, really tired all of a sudden, I guess. I could definitely go for a bit of sleep. Mind if I just...?”

“Go ahead.” I nodded, turning back to Twilight. “Do you have a book with you? I do have a meeting to get to. Most of it is just going to be boring fleet placement, battle strategy in case E invades, and the works. Technical stuff.”

“No problem,” Twilight said, nodding. Her horn lit up, drawing the concerned stares of a few nearby officers, and a sparkling flash exploded in front of her. Caught in a purple-aura of levitation, a book poofed into existence above the meeting table, and lowered itself over to her. I instantly recognized the weathered tome as the book of spells Celestia had sent that morning.

“Just... don’t try to practice any of those in here, please. Or at least warn me.” I chuckled, looking over the meeting table. Another group of captains had arrived, sitting around the hologram and muttering amongst themselves. “It should be starting any minute now.”

“‘Bout the bed things? Good job on replacing them. The old ones tanked,” Rainbow muttered out of the side of her mouth, eyes closed. “Even Roland called them ‘PTSD’ beds, or whatever that means. I’m pretty sure nopony liked ‘em.”

“Very funny,” I retorted, rolling my eyes. “I slept fine.”

“You’re insane,” she grumbled back. I sighed, shaking my head, and looked over our motley group. Roland had taken a spot near the doorway, probably thinking he’d act as some sort of guard. Better to have one than none, I suppose, but I hated most politicking, and I knew this so called “emergency” meeting would be full of it. Tactical, it was, but some tactics involve politicking. And I hated politics.

Dylan Clover stood up, took a deep breath, and the meeting began.

~=V=~

ERROR CODE 16-18-15-13-9-19-5-19
ERROR CODE 2-18-5-1-11
ERROR CODE 25-15-21
ERROR CODE 6-9-18-19-20
PLAYBACK ERROR. CORRUPT FILE DETECTED.

“You have no idea what I am capable of, E.”

“Ah- aheheh.... Forgive me, but I do not believe you, Wingman. Your men lay scattered before you. What do you have that I do not? I have power. I have currency. I have you in chains, kneeling before me. Tell me, creature, why you think you can win?”

“Because you’re just another monster I’m going to kill, E. It might not be today, but eventually, I will find you, and I will wipe you from this universe. I promise.”

“Ah... well, then I’ll spare your life a moment longer. After all, true torture is when one is provided an unreachable hope, yes? Good luck, Mister Amber. You will need all the luck in the universe to kill a god such as I.”

~=V=~

I didn’t like thinking about what was said in the meeting. When I went into politics, asking favors, requesting favors, and trying to not make Gantoris Unity Council angry, I tended to just go into a completely different state of mind, almost a different personality, and I remembered none of it when I stopped. I barely had enough cognitive functions to call an elevator, warn the other members of the Homebound crew to meet us at the armory, and gather Aaro, Roland, myself, Rainbow Dash, and Twilight all into the same one. It took even longer for me to actually say something.

"They should be leaving the other elevator at the same time," I said, grimacing at the stoic image of Ophelius outside the rounded elevator window. The skyways were clogged with hovercraft zipping to and fro, soldiers, mercenaries, and civilians all rushing to get geared up or hunker down. Two large transports, Gantoris designed, lifted past our vision like hulking whales swimming upwards.

Roland took a deep breath, while the two ponies just gaped. "It is to be assumed that the invasion of Wing space can begin at any moment from here on out. Any non-Wing member or member of the Ophelius Garrison is to be considered a possible threat, ambassadors and government officials notwithstanding. Twilight and her friends are to be considered civilian VIPs under our protection."

"VIP? Very-important-pony, right?" Rainbow asked, tearing her eyes away from the sunlit Ophelius.

"Person, but it's the same concept," I said, turning around to face Aaro Castlor.

"You do realize," he said, folding his arms with a smug smile, "that you are attempting to order the Premier of the Wing? I could have you kicked out on insubordination just for that."

"Not really ordering you, per se, just reminding myself the basics, and letting the ponies know what's going on through clever monologuing. With your permission, however, I would like to designate myself and a squad of my choosing to be their officially assigned bodyguards. They're going to need a guiding hand they're used to, if things get hairy," I said, glancing at Twilight.

"Could you define 'hairy' for us, please?" she asked, smiling innocently.

I frowned. "Hairy as in Orion becomes an occupied system and the Wing is forced to oversee a mass exodus of all Wing planets, and then move all of the population to new systems in parts unknown. After E's first, nearly successful destruction of the Wing, I was the one who suggested we implement a last-resort backup plan. The Exodus Operation... is that plan." I sighed, shuffling to face Castlor again. "We won't allow our people to be taken prisoner by a xenophobic madman, one who is known for..." I trailed off, shaking my head.

"Known for what?" Rainbow asked, hovering over to my side.

I sighed, looking away. Rainbow just glared at me, and I sunk down a notch along the elevator wall. Aaro muttered, "E's prisoners-of-war always include the previous civilian occupiers of worlds, and typically have a... well. Let’s just say that he doesn’t treat prisoners very nicely," He leaned against the elevator window with me. "Has to do with overpopulation for his own kind, or something. Take from the weak and give to the over-privileged. Jackson and his special operations squad were taken prisoner on the planet Jut'Firek after Tyn'Vir was taken by E's initial attack force, during the first invasion." He gulped, closing his eyes and no doubt remembering that he himself had been stranded and marked off as dead by the rest of the Wing during my ordeal. "He doesn't like talking about it, but he knows what it’s like."

I grunted, letting the dusty red, ever-youthful draxian talk about something that had given me an emotional breakdown not a week before wasn't what I wanted, but if he thought the ponies should know, I wasn't going to argue the point. Instinctively, I reached up to brush my slicked-back hair back even more, sliding over the thin scars that reached up past my scalp and letting my fingers rest on them, just to remind myself they were there.

"They..." Twilight gulped, both her and Rainbow's eyes being drawn up to the mess of scar tissue. "They did... that? And... Jut'Firek? Rarity said that you... well, that you sort of had a break-down after that meeting about the marauder, when you yelled at Fluttershy."

"E's soldiers are not changelings," I whispered, coldly, looking at the ground with dead eyes. One of my hands numbly rose up to fix the wings-and-diamond pin on my jacket, whether it was askew or not. "They are ruthless. They do not follow a moral code. Each and every one of them is a monster, and they will not see you as a person; you will be just animals to them. That’s why we’re going to protect you.”

"And did they do that, too?" Rainbow asked, pointing to Aaro's spindly, four-jointed mechanical arm.

The Wingman chuckled, raising the device in a whirr that echoed around the elevator. "I lost the arm in a rather nasty riot at an academy on Cygius. Considering how well it's served me, I don't regret losing it."

"You're lucky," I said, a grin springing onto my face. "Back in my day, the mechanical limbs were awful. Lots of noise, always needing spare parts or new power sources. Nasty business with getting addicted to drugs designed to make the body accept the metal. Biomending technologies are the best. No mechanical crap, just wait a week or two, and bam, new arm. Strangest thing I ever experienced."

"You mean you've lost an arm too?" Twilight asked, ears perking up. "I'm sorry if it's an offensive question, but back home we only use prosthetic limbs for amputees. What you’re talking about, they were entirely mechanical? No magic involved at all, right?" She looked from me to Aaro, eyes focusing on the monstrosity occupying his left arm. He snorted.

"An arm? Heh. Jackson was practically a robot himself. Both legs, and both arms. You had, ah, a false eye, too, right? Spinal cord enhancers? I forget what you told me back on the research station; it's been awhile since we actually got to sit down and talk."

"To believe you've managed to do so much, without using magic," Twilight mused, smiling softly. "I can't wait to discover how you've done it. Equestria could do so much with your technology."

I stopped, letting the words sink in, and only when I realized the full extent of what she was implying did I start to answer, "I don't know. In unprepared hands, technology can do... a lot of damage to a society. The rule of first-contacts typically is to slowly give the people of it our level of tech, so they can get used to it. It worked with the teryn in a matter of ten years."

"Hey, no way, that seems totally unfair. Why can't we get awesome starships and shields and stuff too?" Rainbow complained, turning to the city outside and tossing her hooves aside in an all-encompassing gesture. "It'd be totally rad to see Canterlot look like this place!"

"We have our reasons, and don't worry about the starship. First-contact species get a free one, and some orbital defenses and ground structures, but they can't be expected to reverse engineer and mass-produce those," I said, looking out to the city. "As for Opheluis? Personally, I think you ponies could do better. You have psy-... magic to help you." I turned to Twilight, smirking. "And I wouldn't be too sure about technology being better than magic. This translator ring, for example, is something technology could never manage to do without first learning the intricacies of a different language first. List some stuff magic can do, and I'll tell you if technology can do it better or not."

"Well, Spike's dragon fire can send messages to Princess Celestia no matter where we are, and she can use her own spell to send stuff through him," Twilight recounted, putting a hoof to her chin. "Can technology do anything like that?"

"Uh, wow," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck while Aaro gave a purposefully terrible attempt at not snickering. "Well, yeah. We can do a lot, and I mean a lot, better than that, but usually it requires beacons, towers, probes, you name it, to send out the signal to the next probe, beacon, and so on. It's not instant all the time, and we certainly can't do it from anywhere in the universe. Can it transcend dimensions or time travel?"

"Uh... in theory?" Twilight said, smiling awkwardly. "But ponies don't usually time travel, and I don't think anypony's been to a different dimension. How about levitation?"

"We don't actually have levitation. Something similar, of a sorts, but nothing as complicated and free-form as that, 'cause it beats us by a mile, next spell," I answered, smirking softly.

"Cloudwalking?" she asked, cocking her head.

"Walking... on clouds? I don't see what use that'd have, but we can't do that with technology, no."

"Hm, well. I haven't actually learned this one, but I've been planning to do it. Apples-to-Oranges?"

I opened my mouth, then shut it within a second.

"It turns an apple into an orange," she explained.

"Ooh," I said, nodding. "I hate oranges with a fiery passion. No, we can't do that. Fire again."

"Amniomorphic spell?"

"Uh," I muttered, scratching the back of my head. "Sodding hell, I don't even know what that is."

"Sorry to interrupt you five and your riveting conversation topic," an overly accented voice interrupted, and our party turned to see the rest of the Homebound crew and the ponies patiently waiting behind two open elevator doors. Rarity continued, "but I do fear that the rest of us are quickly becoming impatient. The girls and I are very excited to see what interesting things you have prepared to gift us. Isn't that right?"

"Oh, yupperooni! I'm super duper excited!" Pinkie blurted out, bobbing in place with a grin so wide, a mirror-scaled tyrsian would be jealous.

Lillian chuckled. "Pinkie, you were excited about the elevator ride, too. Is there anything you're not excited about?" the engineer asked, folding her arms under her chest.

Pinkie shook her head like a wet dog. "Nope! Being excited about random stuff is one-hundred-percent scientifically proven to improve your overall outlook on life and make you a happier person!"

Silence dropped on us, smothering the pink pony in an eternal awkward glare from both the crew and her friends, Twilight's and my own being the most incredulous. Slowly, her bobbing stopped, her smile fell, and she looked around curiously at our open mouths.

"It is?" Roland asked.

"No it's not," Twilight and I said in unison, and I turned to Lilian.

"How long have you all been listening?" I asked, swallowing.

"Long enough, Mister Robot," she chuckled. I looked across the group, settling on Aran, who just shook her head solemnly. "Now, can we move on, sir? The main armory looks like it's clear for the taking and I'd like to snag myself an SMG before the fabricator runs out of material. They're tough ones to break in."

"SMG as in... DragonTech," I grumbled, glancing sideways at Aaro, who just winked.

"Hey, those guns are quality stuff. Nice, sleek, and silent," she said. "Almost perfect, but only almost."

"They also look like an orglockian puked them up," I retorted, holding my chin high. "But, ensign, you have a point. Lead the way to the armory."

She nodded, ponytail bouncing obnoxiously, and walked off down the hallway. Our ragtag group pursued, our heavy boot-steps intermingling with the constant clacking of hooves against the metal tiles below us. The enclosed tunnel tapered off into an open hallway, with a large viewing window on one side, showing the active beehive of a city outside. Applejack turned to be.

"So you were really a ro-bot?" she asked, raising an eyebrow that disappeared under her stetson.

"Not technically. A cyborg would be a better explanation, and it was only for... oh, a few years. About ten. Some of them were voluntary, and some, eh, weren't."

"I'm guessing, being a soldier and all... ah, well, I hate to imagine what kinda trouble you'd be in to lose an arm. Makes me shudder just thinking about it," the farmer said, punctuating her point with a body-wide shiver. "How many were voluntary, if’n I can ask?"

"One. The spinal enhancer, which I refuse to publicly admit is still there. It's really useful, and it's the only one I kept. Out of fifteen total, replacements counting.” I paused, looking ahead. “In a second, don't look down," I said, right as our cacophony of steps stopped being metallic and started being a bit scarier.

"Whoa there!" Applejack sputtered, looking down to see an enormous drop fall right in front of here - an unfathomably long way to the courtyard below. The rest of the group stopped short, causing more than one crewmember to stumble into another, and let out a mix of ooh's and aah's.

"Oh, my. We're very high up," Fluttershy whispered, scooting off the glass panel.

"Meh, it's nothing much. Right, Jackson?" Rainbow smirked, nudging me with the elbow of one leg. I shook my head.

"Not nothing. We're near the top of the tower, and it's a straight drop to the bottom. If we fell, it'd take around half a minute for us to hit the ground."

"Is the glass reinforced, at least?" Twilight asked, gently prodding it with one hoof and an inquisitive glare.

"It is indeed. Capable of withstanding a few good shots from even a heavy pistol," I answered, continuing my walk to the head of the group. "Now, it's nice to gawk and all, but the armory is just ahead and I'd prefer to get this done before E's troops are knocking on our door and selling us bullets on the cheap."

"Your heavy pistol," Aaro corrected, patting his covered hostler with one hand. "Mine, however, could demolish this entire hallway in one shot."

"You're a dirty cheater, that's why," I snapped back, stepping over to a door. "Did the code change for the door?"

"Nope," the premier admiral said, leaning against the window. "You're going to love the pony headsets. You should, at least. I swear, it took forever to get them just right, even with Lillian's help. By the way," he continued, turning to the ensign in question. "Thank you for that, Ensign Lilian. You know, there's a job open at the DragonTech HQ, and-"

"Don't you dare," I snarled, giving him a frowning glare that might've vaporized him if looks could kill. "If she's got any promise, she is mine."

"Okay, okay. She's all yours," he said, holding up his hands - one whirring into place - in mock defeat.

"Actually," Lillian said, stepping between us, "I was thinking of joining the York Dynamic Systems team."

The silence immediately following made the one a few minutes prior look like a whiny adolescent among awkward silences. Then we burst out laughing.

"Y-york?" I sputtered, pausing the code input before I botched it from shaking too hard from laughter. "The one with the silly a-ahahah! Accent?"

"You d-do... ahahah! You d-do r-realize the only thing he's made so far is the Potentia and those dinky little Yorkshire destroyers, right? Better- haha, better yet, he made them with DragonTech and KaidenTech technologies... I... ehehe!" Aaro tittered, holding a hand to his stomach and sinking halfway down to the ground.

"Listen here-haahaha... listen, York isn't getting anywhere and there's- hahahaha! There's n-no chance he will," I sputtered, choking down another bout of giggles. "B-but seriously, you do whatever y-you want, Ensign Lilian. We won't stop you, I promise."

"Good to know," Lilian grumbled, passing me up and inputting the code by herself. The rest of the crew followed her into the armory, while the ponies stared at Aaro and I, each wearing a confused expression at our antics.

"If I may ask, what in Celestia's name just happened? KaidenTech, DragonTech?" Rarity asked a moment later, and I raised my hand to answer, pausing only to gurgle down another laugh.

"Well, heh, those two are companies. Technology-producing companies, as a matter of fact," I said, straightening up. "Competing, as usual. KaidenTech is mine, and we produce everything from personal shields, to armor suits, and most commonly, ships and weapons."

"Whereas my company, DragonTech, produces ground vehicles, small craft, weapons, shields, and power modules. York Dynamic Systems, that would be Captain R. O. York's itty-bitty company, has yet to produce anything substantial, and it's likely they never will," Aaro said, stretching his arms out. "I haven't laughed that hard in a while, though. Now, can I just ask if you ponies ever wear clothes?"

"Sometimes, mostly during special events. Clothing can be very expensive," Twilight said, turning to her friends. "But we've all worn some."

"And do not forget, I am a fashion designer," Rarity said, beaming. "And I have personally crafted high-quality dresses for each and every one of us... well, except Spike, of course."

"I've worn a suit once or twice," the dragon offered. "Does that help?"

"Why's this matter anyhow? You got seven fancy dresses stocked up for us or something?" Applejack asked.

"I haven't crafted you full suits, although that would be interesting..." Aaro mused, putting the upper end up his fist under his chin. "Pony-shaped Wing jumpsuits. I could definitely get into that. Not literally, of course."

"Nuh-uh. If anyone is taking over the pony fashion industry, it'll be me," I joked, stepping into the armory. "Now if you all will just follow me..." I looked to them, smiling, as I passed through the threshold into the chamber beyond. The Gantoris Towers main infantry armory couldn't be described as simple, but it wasn't complicated either. Intermingling with the rows of lockers large enough to contain two human bodies in them were two countertop-shaped devices that featured only a holographic panel and a sliding hatch that lead into God-knows-where. On the far end, near the slanted ceiling, were three indoor shooting alleys, and it was there that the Homebound ensigns had lined up, saluting as we entered.

"I didn't have time to fabricate the gear, so it's going to be fresh," Aaro said, stepping toward the gleaming metal countertop. "It'll just take a second to download the specifications. Line up the girls, will you? Scanner comes first."

"Got it," I said, pointing to an invisible line on the ground between Aaro and the fabricator, and the next wall. "Line up there, girls, and we'll get you suited up in a moment. Permission to speak to my crew, Premier Castlor?"

"Granted," the draxian muttered, his hands spinning across the hologram with practiced speed. "Just don't take too long. I'm going to need an extra pair of hands to dress them up."

"Got it." I nodded, and walked over where the rest of the crew had stayed to wait. They all saluted in unison, boots slapping together in a dry rubbery squeal. I swallowed, and looked them over. Dylan and Roland stood together on my left hand side, followed by Lilian, Evo, and finally Aran. Only five people, six counting myself. It was the minimum, skeletal requirement to run the Homebound effectively, and hardly counted as a single squad, and from the way they fidgeted, they knew it too.

"You have all served me well, even though it hasn't been in combat yet," I started, folding my arms behind my back. "You've shown yourselves to be competent, more than that at times. But, despite everything, you have not been tested yet. Our entry and exit to and from Equestria were cakewalks compared to what is about to happen if E invades. You will be shot. You will shoot back. It will be tough, and if E is as ferocious as he was before, some of us might not be coming back." I closed my eyes for a moment, ignoring the visible flinches from Roland and Evo when I opened them.

"That's why, as your superior officer, I'm designating you as my personal operations squad from this point onwards. The Homebound will be your ship, and I will be your captain. Our squad is being formed chiefly for the reason of acting as bodyguards for the Equestrian ambassadors, so get used to their company. We'll be straying from combat as much as possible in order to preserve their lives and... sanity, but I expect you to be in top quality order if we do run into trouble. Is that clear?"

"Crystal, sir," they chimed off, saluting a second time. I nodded.

"Right then, Homebounders. Since you are officially in my special-operations squad, of which I am allowed two due to my rank, you may choose your weapons of choice. Make sure to copy fabricator blueprints to store on the Homebound, and make sure you're not imbalanced. I don't want you all to pick up a sniper rifle and then be at loss in close-quarters combat. Swords and other melee weapons are optional, but I strongly suggest you grab one, vibro-blade or not."

"I assume you all know how to work a fabricator, right? AIA?" I asked, turning to the shining machine's counter. AIA's bulbous figure lit up above the hologram panel, swiveling toward me. The crew didn't seem too surprised, except for Roland and Dylan.

"Can't say we've ever seen them in action, sir," Roland said, gesturing to himself and Dylan, immediately proving my suspicions, and I nodded at the AI hologram.

"It's simple, with an AI. Just ask her, like this. AIA, could you please fabricate an extendable standardized Wing-issue vibro-blade for me, please?"

"It would be my pleasure, Captain Amber," the AI replied, and a steady hum emanated from the metal box. I smirked, glancing over at the crew for a moment. Sliding back with a screeching hiss, the hatch moved back, and revealed a small, rectangular, and dark grey sword grip, the cross-guard folded to each side. I picked it up deftly, waving the unextended sword around so the crew could see. Rolling it around in my hand to check if the safety was still engaged, I placed it into my pants pocket. I nodded one last time to the crew, turning to look at the waiting form of Aaro, who leaned on the sleek, gleaming metal surface of a nearby locker.

"Have at it, boys and girls," I said, chuckling, and I walked over to Aaro with the smile still on my face. "Everything set up, Master Castlor?"

"Good as it gets, Master Amber," he replied, matching my grin, and we moved in front of the ponies. "Scanned them and everything, so the machine will make it in their size. Miss Pie is up first. Datapad and Valkyrie device. The removable headset in the datapad shouldn’t be a problem."

"Got it. AIA?" I asked, looking at the grey fabricator. The AI's hologram appeared above it, turning to me.

"First pair is already done. Dispensing now, Captain, Premier."

"Thanks," Aaro said, reaching for the carefully laid of mess of straps and metal devices. "I'm going to need a hand with this one, Jackson."

"Yeah," I said, following him to the pony in question. "Pinkie is a squirmer."

"Pfft, well, I can't help it if I'm excited about this! It's not just one free present, but two! What do they do?" Pinkie asked, grinning ear to ear while we walked around her. I knelt to one knee, and Aaro mirrored me, nodding in my direction.

"Well, a datapad is what everyone has, usually. It acts as a calculator, a measuring tape, a wireless communications device, hologram emitter at times, depending on the model. Pretty much a universal tool. What version are you using, here, Aaro?" I asked, wrapping two padded straps around Pinkie's left foreleg and ignoring the giggles.

"Blockian IV. It's got the hologram stuff programmed in it, and it’s compatible with a VALK," he answered, wrapping another strap around her shoulder. "You're right hoof is going to be the one with the datapad, alright?" he asked, patting the place down where the thick screened device would rest.

"Okie dokie!" she said, beaming even brighter.

"The screen is form-fitted so the ponies can use it even with hooves, but it meant changing the programs around a little to make room for the bigger buttons. And no text keyboard, so all their messages will have to be verbal," Aaro said, wrapping another strap down. "And... there we go. We'll power it up once we get the VALK on the other leg. Jackson?" I reached over, offering me a bulky, tubular device that I brought down.

"I've heard a lot of you use that word before. What exactly does a 'VALK' do?" Twilight asked, peeking her head out of the line to observe us. The rest of the girls watched in silence.

"Well, it's, at its core, a personal teleportation device. But that's not all it does," I explained, strapping the thing down extra tight. "Also, try to watch how we secure these. You might have to do it yourself at one point. Anyways, a VALK is also equipped with a highly advanced, highly specialized immediate-area passive scanning system that detects threats to the wearer. If the threat becomes dangerous to the wearer's immediate health, the teleportation system kicks in and gets the person, or pony, out of there before they can get too hurt."

"Imagine if... err, what weapons are they used to, again?" Aaro asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Try spells."

"Right, imagine if someone- er, pony, fired a... a spell, at you. If the spell was meant to hurt you, possibly a mortal wound, perhaps, the AI would sense it within a nanosecond and make sure you came out unharmed. In our case, it effectively lets us dodge bullets without getting so much as a scratch," he continued, patting down his side of the mess of straps and cushions. "We're good over here, Jackson. AIA, next batch for Rainbow Dash?"

"Ready for use, sir."

"So we have to wear them because we might be in danger, then? I get that... well, an invasion is obviously dangerous, and you already told us how the bad guys treat their prisoners.... I can definitely see you wanting us to be safe no matter what, and I appreciate it," Twilight said, frowning as we collected the gear and stepped over to the eagerly waiting pegasus.

"Are you kidding, Twilight? This is awesome! We're basically invincible now," Rainbow bragged, proudly flaring her wings and ignoring the fact that she smacked Aaro and I in the face while she did. "Right, Jackson?"

"No," I deadpanned. "You're hardly invincible. You can still get beat up pretty bad if you're not careful, and VALKs take a lot of energy to use, so much so that we're starting to cease the use of battery packs and just switch fully to mobile generators that wirelessly give the power. These are those kind, but we can probably stick a battery lining on the side if it comes to that."

"Oh," she said, arching her neck to get a good look at us. "They aren't going to slow me down when I fly, right? I don't want to have to relearn everything just 'cause you jerks made me wear a dumb counterweight."

"You don't have to wear these twenty-four seven," I said, patting down another strap and wrapping another around her barrel. "Right now we're just testing if they fit, and then we're going to... lunch, right?"

"That is correct. I don't plan on skipping,” Aaro said.

"I might take a nap. Kinda tired,” Rainbow yawned.

"So," Rarity called from beside Twilight, "wearing these are not mandatory... correct? Honestly, if you give me some fabric and a sewing machine I can make an ensemble that won’t make them so dull on us. I would rather not have those ugly, bulky things on me as they are if I have to wear them.."

"A sewing what?" I blurted out, narrowing my eyes at the seamstress. "I mean, if you can, do so. Just don't mess with them too much. They're practical, not fashionable, for a reason. AIA, next batch, please."

"For Rarity. I hope it's visually pleasing enough for you, dear," the AI snarked, pushing another round of padded devices through the fabricator hatch.

I kneeled next to Rarity, continuing. "Plus, I doubt you'll have time to put on extra clothing just for these things, especially if you need them”. She lifted her head up to let a strap pass under it, still managing to look haughty. "I hope you all have been paying attention, because if things... well if they get bad, we might not have time to all do this for you. Twilight, Rarity? It'll be up to you two to make sure your fancy magical levitation spell gets these on quick."

"I can do it," Twilight said. "I just hope it doesn't come down to that, because we'd be in danger, right?"

"Most likely," I said, yanking a strap into the locked position.

"Ouch. Not so tight, dear," she hissed, pulling her hoof back.

"Sorry," I muttered. "And don't worry, Twilight. You heard what I said to the Homebound crew. You have your own personal team of bodyguards in case E invades. I..." I shook my head solemnly, patting down Rarity one last time. I stood up, watching Aaro go grab the next datapad and VALK, and walked over to Twilight. "I promise that I'll protect you, and I don't break promises."

"You haven't let us down yet, Jackson," Twilight said, smiling. I knelt beside her, reaching for another strap. "If I had to trust our lives with anyone right now, it would be you. Frankly, I'd rather not be in any danger, because this 'tour of the galaxy' was supposed to be something of a vacation, last I checked. An educational vacation, of course, but still a vacation."

"I know," I said, nodding. "And we didn't expect this, but E is a special case. Why he's attacking now, it seems to be just..." I paused, my mouth hanging open mid-sentence, and I froze.

"Just what?" Rainbow asked, leaning forward to look at us.

"... just a coincidence. It can't be," I muttered. "There's no way he'd know we'd found Equestria without having a spy within the College of Admirals. Even the Homebound crew didn't know where we were going."

"You mean, you think E is attacking you guys because we're with you?" Twilight asked, raising an eyebrow. She shuffled, along with the rest of the ponies, to turn toward me. "Why would they do that? We don't have anything special about us. Well, besides the Elements of Harmony."

"I know," I said, wrapping another hand around her leg to secure the VALK. "I don't want to make any guesses, but I refuse to believe it's just a random coincidence that he chose the moment we got back to Gantoris to show up. He could have easily attacked while we were away, or ambushed the Homebound like Codoro did.... Exactly like Codoro did."

"What is it, Jackson?" Twilight asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Hey, weren't Codoro those jerks who attacked us a few days ago?" Rainbow asked, trotting behind me. "Because last I checked, you totally smashed them up!"

"Chant said that the dealer had an unpronounceable name - the one who gave him the technology to jump us. If he did that, he probably also told him where to jump us. We call him E because... ah, well, it was more of a joke because the rest of his name is a mouthful. If Sorlor works for him, then everything falls into place. E had to have known this, and he definitely wanted to make sure the Homebound was intercepted with you girls on it." I stood up, scanning Twilight for any loose straps, and frowned at Aaro. "Things just got a lot more complicated if I’m right."

"But why does he want us?" Twilight asked, matching my frown. "We don't have anything he would want, do we?"

I looked down at her, studying her innocent complexion, then moved my gaze to Aaro. We both nodded slowly. The silent answer between us was simple: Earth.

"I don't know. He's a sociopathic madman. He probably just wants to take over Equestria," I lied, walking over to grab Applejack's gear. "Again, he's dangerous, but the Wing has dealt with him before. We know his tricks, and we know his strategies. Equestria is now under our protection, and I promise you, our protection will hold."

"Or?" Applejack asked, tilting her head and moving her stetson out of our way. I turned, and saw the waiting, anxious faces of the ponies. Pinkie Pie beamed. Rainbow Dash smiled. Rarity frowned. Twilight Sparkle, out of the lot, just had a glazed-over face that I'd seen on myself so many years ago: shock. “What if it doesn’t hold?”

In that moment, with those girls and Spike staring at me with expressions as unique as their personalities, all of my past failures came rushing up to meet me like a forty-foot tidal wave. Behind me, I heard the rest of the crew gathering into a line, no doubt holding their chosen weapons, and I said four words.

"We won't. I promise."

"Jackson once promised me something," Aaro mused, fiddling with another newly-fabricated set of gear, this time smaller than the others. As one, the girls turned from me to him, and the air hung like a silently waiting predator. "Well, sort of. He promised that the next time he caught me riding a hoverbike up one of his shipyard walls, I'd regret it. Sure enough, the next time I did it, he caught me."

"And... did you regret it?" Rainbow Dash asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yup. He painted about three-fourths the interior of the DragonTech HQ bright neon pink, including the hoverbike. I had to dip into our little tungsten collection to pay some guys to repaint it."

I laughed, mixing in with the chuckles the rest of the girls produced, and kneeled next to Spike. He lifted his arms, as Aaro instructed, and silently squirmed as we attached two slightly smaller variants to his back. "Now," Aaro said, patting the dragon's back, "it was a bit of a tough business, designing the VALK for Spike, here, and I ended up just sacrificing the datapad. As a minor, it's your jobs to take care of him, but I suppose you already knew that. Twilight, I've connected his VALK to yours, so you'll always show up in the same coordinates, unless you say otherwise."

"You know," I interrupted, reaching over to grab the last bit of gear, meant for Fluttershy. "I actually dipped into our collection to pay a different group of sods to paint it in the first place. Only took a couple handfuls to convince them to shame the Premier like that."

"Right, right," Aaro said, moving over to Fluttershy. He reached down, and froze inches from his hand resting on her back. Slowly, we all looked to her, and I personally felt something catch in my throat.

"Fluttershy?" Twilight asked, stepping out of line. The pegasus refused to move, eyes wide, and permanently locked onto a position somewhere a million feet away, in another space and time; the only thing that let us know she hadn't turned into a statue was the steady falling and rising of her chest. If her cream coat could get any paler, it had, and all emotion except for utter terror had been wiped from her expression with great prejudice. "Fluttershy, what's wrong?"

"It's the invasion threat, I think," Rainbow muttered. "We probably should've warned you about this, Captain Amber. I'm actually kinda surprised she lasted this long, but she's gonna faint any second now."

"Five, four," Applejack said, pursing her lips tight.

“Oh dear, not again,” Rarity said, rubbing her temples with a hoof. “I do wish Fluttershy wouldn’t be such a drama queen sometimes. She refused to faint during the changeling invasion.”

I groaned, rubbing my face with my hands. "You've got to be kidding me. She's a fainter?"

And then, with a squeaking noise I didn't expect to hear from a being labeled itself as a pony, Fluttershy tipped over onto her back.

~=V=~

"She's done it hundreds of times before. She only just stopped being afraid of her own shadow last year," Rainbow said, awkwardly using both fore hooves to told a glass of water up to her muzzle. The non-unicorns in their group had figured it out, slowly, over the course of their stay on the Homebound. It had started out with a couple spills and muttered objections, but it came as naturally as walking to them - or flying for Rainbow Dash. To prove it, the multicolored pegasus did it with her eyes closed.

Every single eye in the room, which was compiled of hundreds of seats and the same number of Wing officers, stared at her with curiosity. Once or twice, the silence was broken by an officer breaking down and taking a noisy bite of the meal laid out in front of him. Personally, I stared just like the rest of them.

"We allowed to pet 'em?" one voice asked, instantly followed by an angry, muffled slap from the officer sitting next to him.

"No!" Rainbow announced, putting the glass down. "No petting - no way. Aren't you dorks supposed to be eating or something? I thought this was lunch, not lunch-and-a-show." She looked around with a sweeping glare, nobody else brave enough to meet her gaze but myself and Roland. A second on the clock overhead ticked by, and the whole contingent of soldiers dove into their meals with hearty abandon, and possibly fear for their lives.

"For the record," I muttered below the level of chatter as the noise grew to normal levels. Rainbow grinned at me. "They didn't do that because they were intimidated by the bright, colorful alien that looks like a pillow to most of us. They did it out of politeness. And fear of me and everyone at this table."

"High ranks only," Aaro said, sitting to my right. On the other side of myself was Twilight, followed by Spike and Pinkie. Opposite of us were Rainbow, Fluttershy, Rarity, and Applejack, respectively. Each were either poking at their food, scarfing it down, or waiting patiently for us to eat first. "We're the cool-kids table, basically. Except we're not really cool."

"I'm cool," San said. He sat next to Rainbow, munching on a piece of lettuce that hung out of the side of his lips like a floppy dog tongue. Blinking, he reeled it into the cavernous pit that was his mouth. "Well, cooler than most of you, I'd think. This salad is the single most average thing I have ever tasted. Hardly befitting of cool person like me."

"Right," Ganymede said from a little ways down. "Because you're the kind who would tear through a chicken in seconds. A real carnivore." The clean-shaven admiral shook his head, diving down to begin the crusade on his "veggie" sandwich.

"I like chicken. Chicken is good," San grumbled, poking at his salad with a fork.

Aaro leaned forward to get a better look at the pony’s expressions. "Er, are we making any of you uncomfortable at all? I was told you are all vegetarians, like equines typically are. I don't want to offend your tastes; that's why I made sure all the meals for today had no meat in them. The last thing I want is to be munching on an animal you think is sacred."

"Hm?" Twilight mumbled, looking up from her meal. "No, it's not offensive at all. Jackson explained to us that most, if not all galactic species are omnivores and require both meat and plants. There are intelligent carnivores and omnivores back on Equestria, so I hardly take offense to it, and I'm sure the girls agree. Right, everypony?" she asked, her soft smile growing as the others gave a chorus of affirmatives. She looked over to me. “But... you don’t eat ponies, though, right?”

“Ponies are technically- well, in our area of space, extinct. Remember what TACT told you? I don’t think any of us would eat a pony anyways. It’s considered rude for one sentient species to eat another sentient species.”

San chuckled. “Unless you’re a wedgehead.”

"Well, personally, I still find it disgusting, but who am I to judge the natural order of things?" Rarity added a second later. Rainbow Dash coughed, jerking the drowsy admiral next to her into an upright, alerted position.

"Wait, so I can still get something else?" he asked hopefully, sliding one leg over his gleaming metallic stool. "Because I'd prefer fantastic over average any day."

"You mean I can get real lasagna?" another, young voice asked. A pointy-eared, pale-faced officer down the table leaned forward to call out to us, not bothering to conceal his eavesdropping. He looked down at the mush on his place, revolt crossing his face. "Because this is the worst thing I've ever eaten, ever. At least the regular stuff tasted somewhat like my grandma's."

A couple of the men near him snickered, a recognizable one leaned forward to face the captain, hands sliding under the plate. "Well, Berus, that's great. Don’t... supposed you’ll need this, then?" Roger York snorted, flipping the plate into the other captain's face. A chorus of laughter rippled out from their group, and to anyone who turned around to see the scene. York leaned back, a smug expression on his face.

"I- guh," Berus sputtered, bits of the so called "lasagna" flying across the table. Through the food and pale skin, his face flushed red. "Why you annoying little," he sneered a moment later, leaping across the table and grabbing Roger's jacket in both fists.

"You going to stop that?" I asked Aaro, turning to him. The ponies watched on in grim fascination, except for Fluttershy, who seemed to have reverted into her own little world at that point. The draxian shook his head, pointing at a figure walking down the aisle in the direction of the brawling officers.

"Captain Berus Jag. Captain R. O. York," a muffled, rasping voice echoed over to us, and I turned to see a slender, faceless figure towering behind the grappling duo. Patrick glared out at the two from under his clear mask, eyes as red as his skin and as piercing as his sword probably was. All chatter in the immediate vicinity ceased, and all eyes looked to see what doom would be brought down on the two like godly vengeance.

"I'll... go get cleaned off." Berus muttered, letting go of Roger. He got up like a sloth, eyes never leaving the masked abomination, picked up the mess-covered tray, and walked off in a stiff gait. More than a couple people chuckled, San included. Even Rainbow chuckled a bit.

"As for you, brother," the admiral said, yanking the disgraced captain to his feet. York stumbled, latching onto Patrick's shoulders and gasping for balance. He panted, a lopsided grin plastered on his face. "Your blood alcohol level is point-oh-four-percent. You are intoxicated legally. Intoxicated officers are not allowed in the mess hall unless there is a celebration. We are not celebrating at the moment. Leave."

"Yeh, but," York slurred, backing up a step. "See, we- well, I am celebrating, and why not?" He rose his voice, spreading his arms. He took several stumbling steps toward the exit. "Hell! We're gonna be killing more of those Star Empire freaks! Their green arses aren't gonna last five minutes in Wing s-space. Not like last time, but we kicked 'em in their nasty bits then too, even with those... those one blokes betraying us at the last minute. I dunno about you guys," he said, finally stepping through the exit. "But I'm gonna be counting how many empire soldiers I off this time around, 'cause it'll be a walk in the park if we all don't get killed. Cheers!"

"Cheers!" a dozen or so soldiers cheered, holding up their glasses of water to the leaving hero.

Rarity, Applejack, and a few of the other ponies narrowed their eyes in annoyance at his antics, and Rarity turned to me to ask, "That was rather uncouth of someone held to such high esteem. Are they always like this when they're needed most, Captain Amber?" I chuckled, shaking my head slowly.

Patrick scoffed. "Worthless business, drinking," he hissed, walking down to his saved seat beside Ganymede. "And before any of you weird horse things ask, I already ate."

"If I may ask," Twilight started, peering at the admiral.

"Please don't."

"Why do you wear the mask? Is it an allergy or something? There was a pony in Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns who was deathly allergic to peanuts, so sometimes she had to wear a sort of hospital mask. Is it something like that?" she asked. Several other admirals and captains snorted, leaning over each other to get a view at the answer.

"I'm allergic to things," Patrick deadpanned, shoulders slumping. "I believe that's the four-hundredth and ninety seventh time I've been asked that."

"Probably nine thousand or so by now," San muttered, taking another bite of salad.

"If you must know, I'm allergic to stupidity, and this place reeks of it. Not as bad as most places, but it's here alright, sure as the air you breath," he said, leaning in on one hand that gradled his masked face. "Now," he grumbled, "if you'll excuse me, I'm sick and bloody tired from work, and I think I'll take a lesson from you 'ambassadors' and take a nap sitting up."

"Oh-kay then." Twilight sat back down to continue her meal.

"Hey, Jackie?" a voice called, and I looked to see Pinkie grinning horribly at me. "I meant to ask you this earlier, but what's a tung-sten and where can I get one? I certainly didn't know you were a collector! Are they like super-rare jewels or something? I know Rarity would want to hear about them if they are!"

"That one would be an excellent interrogator," San whispered, just high enough for me to hear.

"Ah, a tungsten coin.... Aaro?" I looked to the premier, who immediately dug into his pocket for something. Each of the ponies learned in to see what he would produce, leaving their food untouched. A couple of the nearby officers also looked on, mostly staring at the girls. "The tungsten coin is the main currency for the planet of Draxis Ferys, Patrick and Aaro’s homeworld."

"It is also one of the most valuable currencies in Wing space, and probably in the top-twenty list in our galactic arm," Aaro said, pulling up a round, golden coin. Between a thumb and forefinger, he raised it up and reached over to the middle of the group so each Equestrian ambassador could see. Once they'd all gotten a good look, the one facing myself showing a pair of golden draxian blades crossed over a Wing symbol, he turned it over to an engraved Draxis Ferys, surrounded by interconnected stars that looped around the circular planet. "Each one is about a hundred standard Wing credits. As for the collection we have..."

"We refuse to tell anyone in public, but we are horrible scientists. Literally the worst ever," I interrupted, giving Aaro a playful jab in the ribs. "It's how we met, actually. Both assigned to work together, the most brilliant engineers in the Wing, on some nasty station floating above Saren. We were supposed to be looking into some way into defeating E's fleets. Stayed there for almost five months before I came out with an alloy capable of turning our ship hulls into the most durable and flexible in the galaxy. And he got a red dot."

"Void technology, not a red dot. I blew up E's main flagship, the Ravager, with it," Aaro chuckled, patting his mechanical arm. "This baby runs on it."

"Fascinating. I suppose if you two were trapped together on a station for five months, you'd have to become good friends," Twilight said, shaking her head slowly. "I think I'd go insane if I had to stay in one area like that for so long. Even studious ponies like me should at least go outside sometimes."

"I'd probably go insane in a day. That sounds like it was horrible," Rainbow Dash said, grimacing at the thought of it. Some of the others nodded in agreement.

"It was, but when you are fighting for the lives of the people you signed up to protect, time starts mattering more and more, and you do more with it. Protecting doesn't necessarily have to be on the battlefield, after all," Aaro said, returning the coin to his pocket. "In the end, our endeavors there saved countless lives. The Wing wouldn't have been able to last as long as it did. No nation can stand without the intellectual base needed to support it. Scientists will always be more valuable than heroes."

"I resent that," San laughed from beside us, his bowl empty. "I haven't created a darn thing and I've gotten all the way to the top."

"You're a leader though, San," I said. "And an inspiration. A figure people can look up to and model themselves after. Sometimes those can be even more valuable than a scientist. Twilight here would know a bit about knowledge gathering, wouldn't you?"

"Well, I don't like to brag, but I am a bit of a scientist by definition," the lavender unicorn said, unintentionally straightening up and grinning. "It came with the magic training. You can't master any spell without knowing how the world works first. Gravity, light, matter, all of it you have to know to the letter. Levitation is pretty simple, but the more complicated stuff requires similarly intense knowledge on the subject the spell is on."

"Sounds like a really refined version of psych," Ganymede said.

"Psych is like... a kind of magic you all can use, right? I don't know a whole lot about it, but it sounds interesting," Twilight said.

"Indeed, I am actually very curious to know how you manage it without a horn," Rarity added.

"Well, for one," I said. "We'd all look silly with horns. As for what psych is, it's not really like your magic at all. You've got, well, it looks like a focusing point for it; that would be your horns. We don't have that, so we rely on just our minds and innate energy, electrical and otherwise, to fuel it. Basically, anyone who uses psych just sort of leaks it everywhere for it to take effect."

"Sounds pretty disorganized and dangerous," Twilight said.

"It is. Very few people have the innate ability to do it on their own. One in one or two trillion, I believe. But there is a drug by the same name that either enhances your natural ability, or gives you some of your own. It's the single most dangerous drug in the galaxy at this point."

"A while ago, the drug got incredibly popular. A massive influx of people started using it, and that started the Psychic Wars. The first galaxy-wide crisis we'd ever seen on that scale," Ganymede interrupted. "Hoo-boy, those were some hectic times. A powerful one could vaporize you with just a thought, nevermind the marauders."

"Speaking of which. Jackson, did you confirm that E has one?" Aaro asked, looking to me.

"He does. We caught it rummaging around the Homebound on our way here," I said, nodding to Rarity. "She was there, and Lillian can confirm it too."

"Dang..." San muttered, leaning his arm against the table and propping his chin on his fist. "We are so screwed if he tells it to go after us. Everyone should be wearing a VALK at all times."

"What I want to know is why a marauder agreed to work with him in the first place,” Aaro said. “Either E offered it something so mind-bogglingly fantastic that it agreed, or it's got one hell of an ulterior motive. The fact that the Homebound and anyone inside of it is still on this plane of existence attests to the latter theory.” He slapped his hands on the table. "But enough of that topic. Twilight, on the subject of magic and spells, how many do you know?"

"Oh, that's an easy one. Forty one different types of tricks, and counting," Spike interrupted. Twilight beamed, nodding in agreement. "I've documented each one and helped her practice. Out of any unicorn I know, she's got the best magical ability of them all. I don't even think any other unicorn in Equestria has that many spells mastered!"

"Oh, Spike, you know that's not true. I'm still only a student. Nowhere near a higher level unicorn." Twilight looked over to us, the pride still evident on her face. "It's true, though. I do know a lot of spells; a lot more than a normal unicorn would. Those are only types of spells, though. Once you master the base spell, you can start to do more creative things with it. Levitation is the best example of that. A regular unicorn can do very basic spells, but the more you know about gravity, air resistance, propulsion, force, and other things relating to it, the fancier and more adept levitation you can do. You also just need to be really good at concentrating on stuff. Rarity's an expert on that one."

"Ooh, yes," the other unicorn added, grinning. "I can attest to magical strain. It takes an immense amount of concentration to be able to manipulate as many objects as I can at once, and it's something I'm very proud to have at my hooftips. Pins, needles, and threads, however, are nothing like say... several logs?"

"Sounds like it's not all just fireworks and stuff. Honestly, Twilight, you sound like a really hard working lady... well, mare, I guess." I shook my head, glancing down at my barely touched meal. If their magic could do that, what else could it do? I looked back up, a wry grin crossing my face. "So what else can magic do? Like, can it give energy outputs, focus energy, etcetera?"

"Those seem pretty vague. I don't think there's any spells that are just labeled as 'energy', or at least, I don't know about them. There's general magical outputs, magical storage, lightning, or electricity, heat. There's a lot of stuff. I can look some things up in the book of spells Celestia sent me, if you'd like me to check."

"Nevermind. It was just an idea I had. What about say... straight-up flying?" I grinned at a hiss of discomfort from San, who shook his head at me.

"No deal," he mouthed.

"Well, flying is a lot more complicated. The best way to do it would be casting a levitation spell on yourself, which I haven't managed to do yet. A unicorn foal can usually manage to do it when they're suffering from magical bursts; that just comes with being a child, but the larger they grow and the more attuned their magic becomes to their body, it all levels out. There's a point where you need to specifically balance control with power, and that in itself takes complicated equations that you need to know by heart."

"That's why unicorns leave the flying to us pegasi, the ones who do it best," Rainbow said, puffing out her chest. "And I'm the pony to talk to about being the best at flying."

Admiral San Uske guffawed, our table turning to look at him as his laughter died down into a small tinny. Snorting one last time, he wiped his eyes, and shot a lopsided grin at the pegasus. A full, tense moment of silence followed, where his smile slowly faded into a deadpan expression. "You might be the best pony flier, but I’m the best flier ever."

"Oh come on, y'all two," Applejack interrupted, pushing her stetson up. "You've been going at each other like two dragons in the same cave. Can't you just go outside and see who's better? No disrespect to you, Mister Admiral."

"No, no, no, AJ, I couldn't do that. It would be unfair to Mr. Wingless over here." Rainbow pointed with the back of her forehoof at the Admiral, ignoring the growing amount of childish giggles coming from the onlookers, and bemused expressions from all but the masked admiral.

"I prefer Professor Mister Doctor Admiral Wingless, thank you very much," San grunted, standing up. "In any case, I could beat you even without my fancy tech. Well, that's just the ego talking, but I'll bet anything that I can beat you in any course you set up. You pick the bar, no matter how low it is compared to my skill, then you pick the stakes, and I'll beat it and win."

"This all seems really unnecessary," Twilight muttered.

"Oh, it's all in good fun. San's an expert, though. He has his reputation for a reason," I replied, ignoring the now muffled verbal sparring between the pegasus and expert pilot.

"The man can't even land a bloody fighter jet when he's calm. How's he gonna do it when his pride's at stake?" Patrick coughed into his mask, wheezing. "In any case, I'm placing my bets on the marshmallow thing."

"I'm betting on Uske for me. Who's the credit holder?" I asked, looking around the table. Nobody volunteered, but everyone started tapping frantically on their datapads.

Aaro nodded, holding up his datapad for us to see. "I've got it. Everyone send it to me."

"As for you and me," Rainbow said, smiling competitively at San, who all too gladly returned the look. "If I win, you have to... heh. You have to paint your 'amazing' fighter with rainbow stripes."

"Blasphemy!" San sputtered, holding one hand to his forehead. "But deal. And if I win, you have to wear a pink dress."

"I- what?" Rainbow balked, raising an eyebrow. "What made you pick that?"

"Standard bet for him. We've all suffered the same fate.... Well, most of us. Aaro never made the bet, did he?" I chuckled, looking to the draxian, who merely wore a smug smile against our glares of silent envy.

"I don't like the idea of wearing a dress," he said simply. “And I’m not stupid.”

"Whatever. Deal, Mister Professor Admiral Wingless." Rainbow huffed, the two now facing off in the lane between the tables. She hovered, wings beating silently against his glowering eyes, and she spit into her hoof before offering it to him. "I'll happily set up the course for us, too."

"Deal, Miss Rainbow Butt," he retorted, spitting into his hand. Their agreement became official with a wet, sloppy sound that most of the party and all of the ponies instinctually gagged at. "I'll go order the dress. Lunch is over, anyways."

We all turned to the large clock on the wall, and waited as an unbearable silence befell us. It took a moment, but a few seconds later, we noticed just what was wrong: the silence. Trickling out of the doors were the last remaining Wing members, the only ones left either sitting in small clusters to whisper to each other, or us.

"So it is," I muttered, sliding out of my seat. "And since that is that. I am going to go take a much needed nap." The others nodded, muttering agreements, and slowly began to stand up. One by one, the ponies edged themselves out of their seats, each looking to me for guidance on what to do next. "Twilight?"

"Yea, Jackson?"

"I suppose you can stay with the group. The other Homebound crewmembers should be in their rooms. Just... try to make sure San and Rainbow don't go too far, okay? San's a great friend, but sometimes he just gets way too into it."

"Heard that!" San called, spinning on one heel to walk the rest of the way backwards. "And I haven't even scratched the surface yet!"

"And you're going to have a hard time winning if that's all you g- hhhhhck!" She jerked, a violent cough exiting her throat. San just grinned, backing out the door with the rest of the departing admirals. The rest of her friends and I watched on with concern. The cough wasn't normal; I could tell that much from the gurgling wet sound that accompanied it. Fear, an emotion I hadn't seen on her face yet, flashed across her expression for the briefest of moments.

"Rainbow, are you alright?" Fluttershy asked, reaching an arm around the mare as the coughs subsided.

"I-I'm fine. No idea where that came from." She shook her head like a dog, letting out a crystal clear breath that seemed to soften the worried looks of her friends. "Probably just something from the food that got stuck down there. Wrong pipe."

"Well that's good. I'd hate for you to get a cold while we're out exploring this huge new universe that's been opened up," Twilight said, smiling softly. "We'll go with you to put up the course for the Admiral."

"Ooh, yes! And I've got to set up the celebration for whoever wins the bet! I know it's going to be you, Dashie, but I've got to be fair to the Mister Doctor Professor Wing-guy too," Pinkie said, bumping a hoof against Rainbow's own. "You'll show them what a real pegasus can do!"

"I'm sure you'll beat him. Despite the fantastic technology these creatures possess, I do not believe they can outmatch the grave of a true pegasus. You were born to fly, after all, dear." She stuck her chin up, closing her eyes. "Practically as much as I was born to be fabulous."

"I hope you like pink, Rainbow," I interrupted. They turned to me, looks of mock betrayal crossing their faces. "Oh, nevermind. You girls go have some fun. I'm still tired from last night. Just wake me before the race starts."

"Alright, Jackson. You deserve a rest." Twilight nodded, taking the lead of the group. I waved them off, smiling gently at the group. They trickled through the door almost reluctantly, chattering amongst themselves about things of irrelevance, whether they be the food, or the "bland" uniformity the Towers had in their color scheme.

The group left, all except Fluttershy. Stopping at the door, she turned to me, the corners of her lips edging up ever so slightly. "Mister Jackson...?"

"Yes, Miss Fluttershy?" I answered, taking a few steps toward her.

She glanced at the ground for a long while, ears flattening. "Thank you," she said, finally.

"For?" I asked, kneeling down to meet her eyes.

"For everything you've done so far. Twilight and Rainbow told me a bit about how much you've been through, and what you've done to protect people you care about. I'm sorry if I've been a bother lately, like down in the armory place.... It's just, all of this invasion stuff... well, um, I still sometimes have bad dreams about the changeling invasion, and if this is anything like that-"

"Hey, it's nothing to worry about," I butted in, patting her on the side of the neck. "I promised to protect you girls, and I will. All of us, the Wing? That's what we promised to do when we joined up. It's the reason most of us joined up, and we've been doing it for a long, long time. I told Celestia we were sort of like bodyguards, but we're more than that. We're protectors. It's our chosen burden, of a sorts. No harm will come to any of you."

"Thank you. You're a good person, Mister Jackson," Fluttershy whispered, hanging her head. "I know you'll do what you promised, you've done it so far, even if you mess up sometimes."

"Even good men mess up." I stood, waving a hand toward the door. "Now go on to your friends. Enjoy life. And make sure they know what I said, because you might not be the only one who needs it."

"I know, but we all trust you, Jackson," she said, turning for the door. "Goodbye." She straightened up, stepping through the door and out into the hallway. Pausing at the last minute, she jerked, and did something that made my knees buckle from my lonely spot in the mess hall.

Carefully, I reached over to the edge of a table and let myself down onto a chair. A long, exasperated, fragile sigh escaped from the back of my throat, and I looked up to the ceiling. She had coughed in exactly the same way Rainbow Dash had after the sparring match.

I frowned.

~=V=~

Dreams are something I don't indulge in. Goals, sure. I can set a goal and then go for it, and I am the kind of person who always reaches his goals.

As for the visions of the night - literal dreams, purely of the mind - rarely do I remember them.

"So, you have failed," my father said in an eerie, echoing voice that sounded like a mountain. He sat in the desk in front of me, which stretched comically in each direction. The room, while covered in paintings, wooden bookshelves, and shelves full of knickknacks, all seemed to be thirty meters away from our single four pieces of furniture. A desk. A chair behind it. The chair I was sitting in, and the white tinted window behind him. I could clearly see the white towers in the distance, but they covered the entire horizon like jagged teeth. "Then you come here and you tell me you didn't want to do it in the first place?"

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice that of a child and containing all the power I had in the waking world. The combination of the two sounded like a child I had once encountered in battle; perhaps the real world was merely a dream to that boy as well.

"You will go down there and help those people, son," he sneered, wrinkles forming into his face like deep cuts.

"I watched you fall," I said, looking down at my hands. They blurred between metal plates and twisted wires to flesh. My legs and arms followed the sequence as well, switching from mechanical forms I had known for years as part of my own body. "I'm dreaming."

"Dreaming?" he shouted in the rage, the wooden desk falling through the floor in an ethereal puff. He stood up, one hand grasping the edge of the chair as he forced his frail body into a standing position. His lab coat splayed open, giving me full view of the blood-spattered body armor. "That's all you ever do! Always whining about how you loathed your classes. Father, I do not want to be like the family, you said. I do not want to improve the world for the greater good! Instead you wanted to go off and see the world. Now you're telling me you're leaving it entirely?"

"I hate lucidity during these things," I muttered standing up. I brushed off my Wing uniform, which splattered across the floor like blood, steam rising from each puddle. I sighed, standing middle of the liquid-clothing spattered room, and I looked down. "Brilliant," I said, holding up my flaming arms. "I'm on fire now."

"You monster!" he screamed, backing up to the window. The white glass now encompassed the entire back wall, and the jagged towers on the horizon looked more and more like fangs than buildings. "I know who my son is, and he wouldn't have done this! He promised me. You promised me!"

I looked at the ground, feeling the flames slowly edge their way up my torso, and onto my arms. Where the bandages were in the waking world, jagged claws of flame sprouted outward, rolling up and down my arm and stretching toward the decrepit man. He held up the chair threateningly. "It wasn't like this, though. I wasn't standing here. There was someone else..."

"Don't touch my son!" he screamed, rushing me with the chair. All at once, the window behind him shattered outward, the glass shards spinning through the air and ignoring gravity. His face dropped, and the chair flew out of his hands and into the swirling void of glass outside. "I trusted you with everything," he whispered, and his feet left the ground. He fell.

"I hate dreams. I always remember the lucid ones, too," I said, walking forward to the edge of the window, before he even passed through it. "Poorly set up, too. Is my subconscious really this poor at harassing me?" I sighed, staring at him as he passed through the broken window, eyes full of anger, and my heart stopped. He passed through, but anything past the window changed shape, color, and size.

He went in himself, and he came out as Twilight Sparkle.

"I trusted you." The phantom accusation bounced around the dream-formed office, this time in Twilight's own voice. Passive smirk turned into a deep frown, I stood there, letting the flames dance across my body and watching Twilight fall with the glittering pieces of glass. An unearthly bright sun lifted up between the rows of teeth so far away; the teeth themselves no longer resembled towers, but now looked as close to the inside of a monster's mouth as a dentist could tell. Her image turned to me in the slow motion fall, her face twisted in betrayal and confusion. Twilight's eyes reflected in all of the mirror shards, each one boring into me, and her mouth opened to scream.

"Jackson! Come on!"

"A severe possibility, unfortunately," I whispered, standing on the ledge and letting the tips of my feet stick out. "I thought knew what I was doing when I brought them here; when I promised I would protect them. I don't intend to break promises I make, and I only make them if I know they're within my abilities." I sighed, briefly reaching one arm out to touch the ghostly vignette. "I am worried, though. Mostly for my subconscious, because it's never been this stupidly and blatantly symbolic before."

I turned, anger creasing into my face. "Stop meddling in my mind. I don't like it."

I ThoUgHt it WaS NiCe.

Suddenly, not like a blinking of the eye, or a double glance, I was in a different place. Gone was the fire, replaced with a khaki shirt, black pants, and a trenchcoat. A large-brimmed black hat sat on my head, and this time, there was no setting. Just a dull grey that neither acted as a floor nor a ceiling. Yet, I wasn't floating, merely standing on nothing. I stared deadpan at the black figure in front of me.

"I don't like people poking around in my mind. That includes non-people like yourself, you sodding abomination," I said, my voice coming from all directions. I glared hard at the amorphous monster. "Also, as some friendly advice, revealing yourself wasn't wise. Explain your reason for being here, and then I will break you apart atom by atom."

CurIoSity. I aM NoT AloNe In iT, EitHer. OuR KinD arE nOt alone iN ouR AbiliTieS.

"Curiosity, really?" I hissed, ignoring its other statement. I blinked, appearing closer to the beast. "Because it looked like you were trying to get some sort of reaction out of me. Why? Looking for a weakness?"

AnD tO stAll.

"What do you mean to st-" I swallowed, eyes opening wide. "You sly little... bug," I whispered, and in an instant the marauder was gone, banished, and its presence disappeared as if I'd opened a window in a hot car. The greyness slowly faded into black, and my body disappeared from the dream. I felt myself extending into the real world once more, a feeling I recognized from exiting virtual reality.

"-Amber!" Twilight screamed, shaking my shoulders. Her voice was muffled under several layers of consciousness, each being peeled back the quicker I awoke. "Jackson. Please, please wake up! Come on, come on."

"M'up," I groaned, opening my eyes. My apartment bedroom slowly swirled into focus, not a thing out of place, and I forced myself into a sitting position to face the unicorn. "Wuzzit?"

"Aaro sent me to go get you. He said something was wrong," she said, backing up. I frowned deeply, looking around for any reason to be called. There were no alarms. There were no shouting. No bombs were going off outside. Slight thunder from the incoming storm outside. All was calm.

"What time is it?" I hissed, standing up. I had taken off only my uniform jacket and shoes when I took my nap, leaving my pants, socks, and white shirt, and a huge image of myself appeared on the opposite wall's mirror. Beside it was a half-closed window, giving me only a view of darkened clouds.

"It's coming up on dinner. You slept for around four hours, but nopony wanted to wake you up because we delayed the race due to the storm coming. The Admiral didn't seem very happy, but Rainbow Dash seems to think she can 'cancel' the storm. She can't, can she?"

"I don't think she can. Nothing wrong with a little bit of rain." I stretched my arms. Looking out the window another few seconds to check for anything out of place, I strode over to the discarded clothing. "What did he say was wrong, specifically?"

"Well, um," Twilight said, walking over to the doorway and staring at her hooves awkwardly. "It didn't really make sense to me, but he asked to go get you while he gathered the other girls and the crew, then something about the College. We're all waiting out in the hallway, when you're ready."

"Alright, but what did he say, Twilight? Tell me his exact words already," I asked, leaning down to set my boots into place. They weren't necessarily fashionable, covering the bottom end of my pants with two buckles, but they did their job. As soon as they were on, I looked around for my datapad.

"He said a friend told him something about the Void. I don’t remember what he said exactly, though, just that he wanted you awake," she said curiously. "Do you know what that means?"

I stopped, the datapad hanging half-off of my arm. "No, no, no, not really. He doesn't talk about the Void that much, even with me, except that he uses it as a power source. We do know that whenever it's not contained, things get messy, and that psychic powers are involved. Someone just attempted to hijack my mind." I shrugged on the jacket right, zipping it all the way up and taking a deep breath.

"What?" she exclaimed, rushing to my side. "What do you mean by that? With magic?"

"It was the marauder. How long were you trying to wake me, Twilight?" I snapped, stepping lightly and stiffly toward the exit.

"Around five minutes, almost. I stopped once or twice, and I was just about to get some water when-" she stopped, ears perking up. Every insignificant noise in the apartment ceased to be from my mind, and the ever humming rumble of power coursing through the building became nothing but white noise. Far away, outside and on the streets, a siren slowly crawled up into a deafening wail.

"Five minutes was all they needed," I whispered, releasing a breath I didn't know I was holding. I looked down to Twilight, realization dawning on both of us, and without a moment to spare we rushed for the door.

"The College just sent the alert out over the datapads, sir. Orange Code," Roland said, moving his KaidenTech assault rifle into a low ready position. "The main force is gathering down in the courtyard for placement orders."

"Pilots to fighter stations. Turret operators to turret stations. I know the drills, ensign," I said, patting my pockets. The only thing I had on me, something I had unfortunately forgotten all about, was the standard issue sword I'd taken from the fabricators. "We need to get armed. Do you know if they shut down the Halls just yet?"

"They should be in the process of it right now, sir," Dylan said, readying her own weapon. "Roland and I are the only ones with weapons."

"I have claws," Aran deadpanned, raising five of the sharp digits. I nodded, ruefully, and turned to gaze over the ponies. They were spread out within the Homebound crew, sharing nervous glances with each other.

"Hayfeathers," Applejack said, smirking. "We managed to fight off almost a hundred of them changeling varmints before we got surrounded during the invasion. We'd probably be able to hold our own even without your fancy weapons."

"Did the changelings have fancy weapons too, Miss Applejack?" Lilian snapped, crossing her arms. The farm mare shuffled on her hooves, looking awkwardly at her friends. "These guys do, and they won't let you get close enough to kick them into next week with those hooves of yours."

"I don't plan on letting us get near enough for them to even aim at us. We are going straight to the Homebound and evacuating with the rest of the civilians," I stated, puffing my chest out. "We'll replace the fighter escorts they'd normally get. Our rotating cannon should be enough to ward off anyone to attack us. We'll be fine, I promise."

"Oh, we know that. I believe all of us have full faith in your abilities, Captain Amber," Rarity said, flashing me a radiant smile. I nodded back, but I didn't return the expression.

"I want two teams in the elevators. They'll be in emergency mode, so it should be fast," I said, moving off to stand at the side of the ground. Twilight followed me, sticking to my side with a confused expression. "Twilight, Spike, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Roland, and Aran will be with me. I'll see the rest of you at the bottom. Move out immediately."

"Yes sir!" they others shouted in unison, each one giving off a smart salute and rushing to the elevators. Those I'd included in my own team stayed with me, stomping toward the elevator. Rainbow, however, flew over to my side.

"Those E guys are invading, right? This is them?" she asked, flapping her wings effortlessly as we raced to the elevator. I nodded silently, waving to the red-tinted AIA as we got closer. In the floor above, I could hear the stomping of boots and shouts from guards and soldiers. The alarm itself continued to blare, and most of the overhead lights were slowly changing to a low red tint. Thunder outside rumbled as we ran.

"I assume you'll want an empty car, sir?" the AI asked emotionlessly, the light above the door glowing a bright red.

"No, just whatever will hold us and get us there fastest," I rambled, turning to face the group as the elevator arrived. "Aran, you hold Fluttershy. Roland, you hold Spike. Rainbow can handle herself. I'll take Twilight."

"What?" Spike asked, raising an eyebrow at the towering soldier next to him. "Why?"

"Good question." Twilight looked over to me, raising her own eyebrow and tilting her head. "Why?"

"Have you ever fallen off of something?" I asked, looking quickly between her and the elevator. A low rumble, different from the thunder outside, started up far above us, and I could slowly feel the floor begin to vibrate.

"More times than I'd like, yes," Twilight said.

"It's like that, except faster," I said, turning to face the elevator door. "Get ready to move, and get in my arms when we're inside. Awkward, yes, but you'll appreciate it when we start going down. Trust me on this."

"I trust you," Twilight said, nodding. I looked to the others.

"I trust 'ya." Rainbow grinned, hovering next to Roland.

"Me too," Spike said, standing next to Twilight.

"I trust you too, Jackson," Fluttershy finished, nodding slowly.

Something above us and through the thick metal walls began screeching, metal grinding against metal and getting closer to us with each passing second. Each of the ponies and Spike flinched back, edging away from the elevator door and closer to us. Finally, the sound stopped, ending right behind the doors. Contrasting to the obnoxious entrance, the doors opened without even a noticeable hiss, drawing back to reveal ten armed soldiers sitting in harnesses.

Each one had the Wing emblem decal on their armor - which from what I could tell, was a massively heavier and more advanced version than the EPA suits I had brought with the Homebound. The full faceplate helmets and breather mask were the same, though, and I could almost see the incredulous stares from behind them. Each man was had either a KaidenTech or a DragonTech gun at his side, gripped tightly with one hand, and they were all hooked into the walls of the elevator with over-the-shoulder restraints that descended from the ceiling. This elevator was big; it would fit us, but only if the girls braved the blank stares from the soldiers.

"Hey, Captain Amber," one of the soldiers said in a muffled voice. "Are those the pony things we keep hearing about?"

"Told you they were real," another said, elbowing the man to his side. "Stephen and I saw them in the mess hall at lunch, eating with the College of Admirals."

"Yeah, but we all know you and Stephen are absolutely insane," another soldier, obviously just a helmeted teryn, hissed through his mask.

"Hey, I resent that statement," a third barked, looking to me in about as apologetic a way as he could have without a face. "Come on in, sir. We won't bite. Harnesses might be a bit too tall for those horse things, though."

"We know. One of you mind holding onto Miss Dash for me?" I asked, stepping into the large elevator and finding a free harness. Aran and Roland followed, and the ponies trickled in behind them. Hissing melodramatically, the restraints lowered over our shoulders and locked us in place, but at least our arms were free. "AIA, don't drop us yet."

"I can do it if you'd like, sir," the third man, the apparently insane one, said, holding out one arm. "As long as she promises not to eat me or anything."

"Are you sure about this?" Rainbow Dash asked, flying over to the guy and giving me a sidelong glance. "I can handle myself, Jackson."

"Fine, fine," I said, smoothing my slick hair back even farther. "I hope you heal fast from broken bones, though, Miss Dash, because most of them are going to be just that when we drop." A few of the soldiers snickered, elbowing one another and whispering over their communication links.

"Please do it, Rainbow. He doesn't want us to get hurt," Fluttershy said, slowly making her way to Aran. Roland had already picked up Spike in an awkward looking hug, the dragon child clinging to the side of the harness with one arm.

"It'll be over quick, Fluttershy. We've all done this before during training. Many, many times," Aran said, reaching down and accepting the yellow pegasus into her waiting arms. Fluttershy clenched her eyes shut, moving so she could wrap her forelegs around Aran's long neck in the easiest, least obtrusive way possible. Aran sighed.

"I puked a lot," Roland said offhandedly. One of Spike's eyes twitched.

"Fine, fine," Rainbow groaned, hovering in front of the volunteering, faceless soldier. He wrapped his free arm under her barrel and forelegs, pulling her close. "But I would just like you to know I am not comfortable with this. It's not cool, and you're not telling anypony, ever."

"I don't even know any other ponies," I said grinning. Twilight just stared at me, head cocked and eyes narrowed, and she approached with a cautious step.

"Kind of with Rainbow on this one. It seems awkward-"

"I am getting requests for the elevator en masse, sir," AIA interrupted. "I will be forced to release in five seconds."

"Sodding come here already," I barked, motioning for Twilight to hurry. She took a couple more steps, and jumped into my arms as gracefully as a swooping, panicky unicorn could. I hugged her to me, spinning her around so my arms wrapped around her barrel. "Two. One."

We dropped, and all sound was obscured by blaring of wind as it roared past the car. We had no view of the outside - all windows had been shut in the emergency declaration. It took everything I had just to hold onto Twilight, the force of our fall nearly launching her into the ceiling. The other soldiers seemed to be having the same luck, strained expressions plastered on Roland and Aran as they hugged their charges.

"Whoooah!" Twilight yelled, squirming in my arms. "Are you absolutely sure this is safe, Jackson?"

"Without harnesses? I have no idea!" I shouted back, the road partially obscuring my words. I sucked in a desperate breath, looking around. Red warning lights were the only source of illumination, and the visible shaking of the elevator car made them reflect oddly on the armor of the other soldiers, each one standing rigid against the gravitational forces against them.

"Are you kidding? This is awesome!" Rainbow grinned, her wings extended in front of the soldier assigned to hold her in place. "I could do this all day!"

"It'll only last a couple seconds. We should be nearing the bottom," I bellowed back, shifting in place. On cue, the loud screaming of metal against metal started up again, but for us it was translated into a rumbling groan that violently shook the cabin. "Hold on!"

"We are," Twilight hastily replied, squeezing my arms tight. The harrowing force building up in my chest ceased, and we all pressed against the floor like normal when the sound died off. A few quick, deep breaths later, and the ponies were on the ground and the shoulder harnesses had risen back up the wall, awaiting their next prisoners.

"Oh, um, w-wow," Fluttershy stuttered, rising up and shivering. "That was certainly..."

"Fun?" Rainbow offered, stretching her back.

"Fast."

"Right, well, come out, out of the elevator, girls," I said, ushering our group out into the hallway. The group of soldiers marched out past us, steadily heading for the exit around the corner. One or two glanced expressionlessly at us from behind their faceplate, gripping their weapons tight. Another group of voices interrupted out moment of peace, and we turned to see the other group leaving their own elevator.

"Wowzers! That was really super duper fun; can I go again?" Pinkie asked, the first to reach us. Lilian grumbled, running a hand through her hair and scowling at her, and the others showed similar signs of discontent.

"I would rather not, Pinkie, my dear. Especially if you happen to scream the entire way down. I can't say I enjoyed it myself, either. Far too dramatic."

"Fast and efficient. None too comfortable, though," Applejack muttered, tilting her hat back and looking to me. "We heading out now, Captain?"

"You bet. Just... follow me. I've got to go confirm some things with the College before we head out. They'll be directing orders in the courtyard," I said, smoothing my jacket down. Nodding or otherwise voicing their acceptance of my order, each one took their place behind me as I strode out of the building and into the darkened evening.

The Gantoris Towers stand at around one thousand eight hundred and seventy two meters tall. My apartment itself was lower than the cloud level, but in looking up, seeing them stretch into the storm-clouds so defiantly made my head swim. Reflecting off of the sky gave them an eerie mottled grey sheen, blending into the clouds behind them. Between the two, near the halfway point in their height, stretched the Halls, and it cast a dark shadow over the courtyard.

More and more we walked into the fray; the depressed area underneath the towers and separated from the rest of the city, made up of landing platforms, troop transporters, crates, and lots and lots of Wing soldiers that intermingled with the Gantoris Guard. On the highest of the three tiers that lead up to the doors of the Towers was a conglomerate of them. Fifty or so of the faceless soldiers had lined up, guns on their backs and bodies stiff as chess pieces. In front of them were about half of the admirals, gesturing over a mobile holographic map. A ways away, I could see a truck moving in a large generator device to be placed in the middle of the highest tier, several workers scrambling around it. Standing tall and empty was the flagpole behind the soldiers in formation, bearing no flag to wave.

"It took you long enough, Jackson," Aaro called to me, waving us over. I reached onto my datapad, pulling off a wiry device from the side and wrapping it around my ear. Through the commotion, I could at least hear the others clear.

"You should have warned her she might need to use magic to wake me up. Whatever you sensed in the Void, it targeted me," I said into the microphone. A few of the ponies gave me odd, slanted looks . "All it needed was five minutes."

"We waited until we did anything official until we had you. The Defense Fleet is already assembling, but we wanted you around for the real fleet movements. How quick can the Liberty Fleet arrive in force?" Ganymede asked, staring at his datapad as he typed away. Beside him, the monstrous Admiral Zalthice fiddled with the floating hologram of the city, pressing on areas where I knew we had defenses readying.

"Five minu-" I stopped myself, rubbing my face with the palm of my hand. "Of course. How did we catch the fleet, at least?"

"Tipped off, actually," San said, folding his arms. "One of Patrick's last loyal spies in the Empirium reported in to say that their long-range sensors were picking up ships heading to us. Our short range sensors picked them up thirty seconds ago." He sighed, looking behind his back at the gathered soldiers setting up the defenses. "I'll be leaving in a moment to oversee the fighter squadrons; making sure they're ready to kick butt, and the others are all gone to see that our ground-based defenses get up in time."

"Got to love GOD cannons," Aaro muttered, chuckling, waving me over to the map. The ponies gathered around me, inching in to see. "Forgot to tell you, but we finished building them while the Homebound was gone. The last time I saw them was on the Tolos Station. E won't be expecting them."

"GOD cannons?" Twilight asked, tilting her head at the fizzling hologram. Beside the raised buildings and blue dots spread across it, there wasn't any major feature that would indicate one of the structures was a cannon, at least, to her.

"Draxian cannons of particular design that the Wing picked up on my request," Aaro said, smirking. "They tore a big chunk out of E's fleet the last time I saw them in action, and that was his main battle fleet. We've only got an invasion force coming for us."

"What's the difference?" Rainbow asked, flying above us and frowning skeptically at the map.

"There is none," a new voice chimed in, sighing heavily after he had spoken. I looked up to see the hunched form of Clover, leaning on his sword that poked into the concrete ground. He glared emotionlessly at the map, his eyes slowly trailing up to look at Rainbow Dash. "We're just saying there is. To provide hope."

"Leader Clover?" I asked, looking to the man. I had only caught glances of him in the emergency meeting earlier, so only now did I notice his haggard look; the bags under his eyes told me everything I needed to know about our situation. "Seriously, how large is the fleet heading towards us?"

"We don't know. Not exactly. We do know, however, that he's not bringing the Derelict with him. Why not, I'm curious," he said, flicking at the hologram and turning to glance at the soldiers again. "I think we're all grateful for it, though. Perhaps the rumors were false."

"Activating a Derelict should be impossible. Only two in history have ever been fully repaired, and even then they refused to work," Ganymede added, folding his arms behind his back. "We should continue thinking he has one, though. I don't want to be caught off guard."

"Right," I said, nodding quickly. "I request that my team and I be allowed to board the Homebound and escort the Ophelius evacuees away from the city before the fighting starts, to spare you fighter escorts and give me a chance to get the ambassadors away from here."

"Granted," Clover said instantly, slapping his leg and standing up. "Make sure they're safe. Admiral Uske, make sure pressure is relieved off of the Homebound when they escape. Fighter squadrons originating from the ground are to stay in the air until the invasion force is defeated."

"With my life, sir," I replied. Slowly, I turned to face the ponies. They looked at me with mixed concern. "Anything you need before we head up to the armory and get your stuff, girls?"

"No, I don't think so," Twilight said, glancing over at the armed men only a few meters away. "We should probably get moving."

"Is there any chance that a couple of those nice dock workers could gather my luggage for me?" Rarity asked, puffing up her mane with one white hoof. "I do hope it isn't a bother but I'd rather not leave all of my things here."

"I'll see if I can send someone on the way to the armory, Miss Rarity. What about your books, Twilight?" I asked.

Spike chuckled, waving an arm dismissively. "No worries, Captain Amber. Heh, I've got it all

covered. Dragon-fire has a lot more usage than just mail services!" He patted his round stomach, smirking. The poor dragon only stopped when each of the admirals had paused what they were doing to stare at him with dumbfounded expressions. "What?"

"Nothing. Listen, we'll get you all squared away when-"

"SHIPS ENTERING WING SPACE!" a voice bellowed from one of the consoles at our miniature command station, crackling over the radio. "ESS Golden has confirmed hostilities. Major fleet vessels in high orbit above Ophelius are: Cruiser-Imperial Vri, Destroyer-Defender, Aegis-Holdout, Enigma-Georgia, Cruiser-Elder Hti'Sy, Enigma-Gantoris. We're detecting at least five battlecruiser class titans within their fleet, and an unknown vessel we can't determine. Two fleet carriers..." We all stared blankly at the holographic map as it swirled into a view of the planet and the ships stationed around it. Between the sparse ring of defense platforms, stations, and the planet surface lit up numerous dots representing the ships between us and doom. What we were staring at, however, were the far larger swarm of red blips moving toward them.

I tapped several buttons on my datapad, bringing up a list of contacts. I barely even looked at the screen as I did it. "Emergency message to all Liberty Fleet ships," I said softly. "You are to gather at Han Wavel immediately. When you are done, reinforce Gantoris as soon as you can. Godspeed."

"Alpha Fleet, you are to support the Liberty Fleet in reinforcing Gantoris. Coordinate your entrances by yourselves," Aaro spoke into his own data pad, voice fading into a whisper as I turned my attention away. I lowered my arm as the other admirals and the few captains that had surrounded us spouted off their own orders.

"That's the invasion force," Twilight whispered. I turned to them. "If their ships are anything like yours, then this is really different from what happened in Canterlot."

"It is," I said solemnly, looking at them. "We are about to be attacked, girls. This... isn't the part of the galaxy I wanted you to see, but it's also a reality. Evil does exist out here, and it will do it's best to stamp out the good."

"They are powering up weapons," one of the voices on the radio crackled. "Unknown vessel is approaching. ESS Defender is returning fire."

"ESS Golden is firing."

"They're returning fire. Someone go out there and draw fire away from the Golden!" the first voice shouted.

I swallowed. "This isn't like you thought it would be, I know. It was supposed to be a friendly tour where I showed you the ins and outs of being a galactic force. But it's also much more than that. Out here, where warlords like the man we're facing will try and crush you just because he can, someone needs to stand up for themselves. That's what we do, and that's what we've always done."

"Aegis under heavy fire. We need assistance as soon as possible."

"They're breaking through the line. Hold!"

I glanced away for the briefest of seconds, looking at the battle unfolding on the hologram map. What few ships that weren't scattered were being forced into frantic evasive maneuvers, and most of the red blips were proceeding without altering their straight-line course. A couple more of the Wing ships had left their posts on the other side of the planet and were racing toward the action. "ESS Y'vette's Heart, Jan-Klier, Tungsten Spear, Firebug, and Cutter inbound to assist."

"But we're used to this. We've done this before; many, many times. We've stood up to E and beat him once, and we'll do it again. No single faction has ever managed to lay a single soldier's foot on Gantoris before, and today isn't going to be that day. In less than a few minutes the bulk of the Wing's firepower will arrive and E’s forces won't last even half as long as that. We're strong, because we fight for what is right. We will protect you."

"Georgia here, they're taking down our shields!"

"Where's the reinforcements?"

"This is the Imperial Vri, our shields are out and our hull is taking damage!"

I held my hands behind my back, head tilted to the floor as I walked away from the gathered Admirals and out into the open, my eyes always on the awed faces of the ponies. "Because no matter what, despite a little bit of disorganization, our little fights, and our lack of professionalism while we wear the uniform on some days, each and every one of us is a brother or sister to the one next to him, and we do not allow tyrants to break that bond simply because they think they're powerful. Whether it be for Equestria or the youngest child on some small planet in an outer territory, we will fight, and we will win. This is what we are. We are the Wing."

"For the Wing!" one of the soldiers behind me shouted, holding up his rifle. I spun, my hands flapping uselessly to my sides; I had positioned myself right in front of them.

"FOR THE WING!" the rest screamed, holding up their own weapons. Most of the busy soldiers around us stared, some joining in the cheer.

"We'll show 'em what for!"

"They don't know who they're messing with!"

"That's right!" I yelled back, brandishing my fist. "If any of you girls had doubts, I hope we just dispelled them," I said, turning back to the ponies. Their eyes weren't on me, though; they were on the sky, each one with a terrified expression plastered on their face. A moment later, Fluttershy sank down onto her knees, quivering, and Rainbow Dash even plopped down onto the ground.

"We're getting massive energy fluctuations from the unknown vessel. They're deploying some kind of energy shield," the radio crackled. Confirming this, one of the vessels on the hologram was had stayed back from the rest of the fighting, a huge cone of green extending over the fighting ships and heading right into the planet. I, along with the other soldiers who hadn't yet, looked up.

"May the Lightbringer save us," Aran whispered, holding her hands to her chest..

Lighting up the smoky grey storm clouds from behind, the evening sky had turned a dull, swirling green. The green energy lowered itself down the horizon, dripping like hot lava over the city, and stopping only when it covered everything in its shell.

"We're trapped," Ganymede announced. "Well then. That kind of puts a wrench in our plans."

"Quite a downer," San said blankly, scratching the back of his neck.

"Right after Jackson's nice speech, too," Pinkie added, the two sharing a short look. A moment later, the soldiers around us burst into action, as if they hadn't already. Hovering trucks were driven off, dropships flew to and from the landing pads at the bottom tiers, and shouted orders came from the admirals.

"Care to explain what just happened?" Applejack asked, still staring at the green sky with wide eyes. "Cause I don't like the looks of it."

"They just dropped a solid energy shield around us. Probably two-way, so we can't escape, and nothing can get in," I explained, taking a deep breath afterward. I rubbed at my face with one hand, looking over at the empty flag-pole that still stood proudly. The line of soldiers had turned to face it. "They're going to use that to their fully advantage. Things just got a heck of a lot more complicated for us."

"One of the carriers just slipped past. It looks like it's releasing. We're counting at least a hundred and sixty or so - maybe ninety of them are dropships. All of them are heading straight to Ophelius. ETA one minute thirty seconds."

I took a few more deep breaths, looking back at the soldiers. Two of them nodded, walking toward the pole in the midst of the chaotic preparations. Rumbling past us went another forty soldiers, each one carrying a large tube-like gun with a battery pack on the back, blue lines glowing menacingly across it. They were led by the two quarreling captains from earlier, both showing no sign they remembered nor cared about the fight.

"I promised to keep you girls safe," I said under my breath. "That we wouldn't see any of the fighting."

The two soldiers at the flag pole opened a small box, reaching in to reveal a pure white fabric folded into a triangle. In unison, they pulled back their faceplate visors, and even through the roaring wind and stomping of boots I could hear them humming. Some of the admirals had paused, turning to watch, as had Applejack, Rarity, and Twilight. Rainbow Dash flew next to me and asked, "What are those guys doing?"

"There was a soldier," I whispered to her. Three other soldiers had noticed, and lifted their own visors to join in. "Back when they first invaded. Lieutenant Commander Reynolds. He became sort of an icon for the others, surviving all of the attacks and even living through the operation on Jut'Firek. They looked up to him." One of the soldiers unfolding the flag - an ur'luk man -began to sing in a low, chanting voice, and this time the rest of the soldiers in the group joined in the vibrating hum.

"A war comes, now raise the wings of gold."

"They were the first invasion force to make it all the way to Gantoris. I was there when we made the final stand against them," I said in a hushed voice, watching as more and more of the men stopped what they were doing to watch the flag bearers. "He wanted to raise some spirits. Set the mood. We were going up against an army with a scrapped together fleet with some of our best ships and fleets already turned into dust. So... he sang, and it caught on like wildfire. These men were all there. We all were."

"To strike our heart; to be so bold." More chimed in, and I looked over to see the admirals mouthing the words. In the far distance, I could see the first speckled dots of the invasion force burst through the clouds over the city. A swarm of death raining on the needling spires of Ophelius.

"GOD cannons are functional and preparing to fire. If we can get a straight shot at the shield-ship, their whole invasion fails," Ganymede announced. "Give them five to ten minutes to start up and we'll be in the clear."

"We must defend, our sole burden

To see the next light. Here, we hold."

"It's haunting," Twilight muttered, standing next to me as we watched the men attach the flags. "It's not at all like what the royal guard does in Canterlot. What happened to Reynolds?"

"The fleets arrive, and how great is their size

The fight has come, now the Wing must rise."

"He... well, after the battle, he was considered a hero. A lot of soldiers... I.... There was a silent pledge amongst us to sing it if Gantoris ever came under siege again. Nobody ever expected it to be so soon." I let loose a long sigh, eyeing the white and gold flag being hoisted. It caught on the wind halfway up, billowing outward, and there it stayed. Behind it, on a direct course to the towers, and consuming the entire skyline of the city, was the incoming fleet. Gnarled, black metal gleamed alongside deep green lines that streaked across the ships. Even the fire from the engines was a sickly green. Nobody made the jokes now, but a long time ago Admiral Uske had quipped that their fighters resembled a bunch of black and green hats if they had been shoved into a blender with one another. No one disputed it, but it didn’t make a fleet of them any less deadly.

"Heavies, take aim!" York shouted at front of the heavy troopers that had spread out along the tiers. In tandem, they hefted their massive weapons over their shoulders and in the general direction of the enemy. "Lock on, and prepare to fire!"

"I've got to get you girls out of here," I said, taking a couple steps back. Other than the humming and the steadily louder roar of engines, the only sound I could hear now were the shuffling of the men as guns were shouldered and aimed. Even Ganymede had picked up an errant rifle and readied it.

The wind howled. The men hummed. Nobody dared look away from the swarm coming at us in one great horde of blackness.

"Now men stand tall, lest we fall

Embrace the fire, now take flight."

Clover straightened up, holding his datapad's microphone to his mouth. "Fire at will."

Author's Note

Over a month? Woops. I sure hope this one's length makes up for it, because this is where it all changes. We only have two chapters left until the end of the act, and wouldn't you know it, we're not even half done with the story itself. And can I just drop the words "OST. Soon." and leave it at that? I kind of rushed on the editing on this one, since I'm just trying to vomit it out at this point. If you spot anything, don't hesitate to tell me. Theories? Don't hesitate to spout them. Man, I really need an actual editor.

(22) Bullets and Blades - Part One

-Gantoris Towers, Ophelius, Gantoris.
-Official recorded beginning of the Octavian Conquest War.

-Courtyard Defense Perimeter.

-

I never thought I would see the day when an army marched on Gantoris. Ours was considered one of the best defensive forces in the galaxy - not winning by numbers, but with far more experience, skill, and cooperation. You didn’t need numbers when one of you could take on fifteen of them, without so much as a bruise, just using a sword, and throwing a gun into the mix didn’t help their chances.

So, like many, I watched dumbfounded as fire rained from the sky, spilling forth from twisted black and green hunks of metal. Anything that wasn’t falling was busy getting ripped apart by streaking bolts of plasma or anti-air ordnance. Whatever was left shot at us.

“We need air support now! Uske, get your squadrons up and flying ASAP,” Clover shouted over the explosions, tearing the assault rifle from his back and pointing it in the general direction of the incoming invasion force. “Keep firing! Do not let them set foot on this planet!”

A crippled, wretched body of a fighter streaked down from the swarm, exploding in a cloud of smoke and green fire at the bottom of the last tear. Soldiers shouted in warning, and a piece of the wreckage flew over our heads at mind-boggling speed, landing on the far side of the courtyard where we couldn’t see. I took a step back, everything in my mind screaming for me to abandon my promise to the girls, pick up a gun, and defend the people I had spent almost half my life protecting.

But I didn’t. I made a promise. I turned to the girls, and I gave them the order I barely ever made.

“Run. Ensigns, cover us!”

“Yes sir,” Roland said from behind me, smirking as he and Dylan raised their rifles.

One of the fighters broke off from the main escort group, angling itself to point right at the officer’s mobile command station, and more importantly, at seven brightly colored targets contrasting against the grey. It fired, we ran.

The ground tore itself up behind us, but we continued running for all it was worth, aiming for the doors. I could hear the grinding and melting of reinforced concrete as each shot blasted debris into the air with, half-molten pebbles digging into the back of my pants like hot knives, rocks pelting my jacket and head. I was at the back of the group - I had slowed down for them, just in case. It was an instinct that might’ve saved their lives. That, or the pilot was a terrible shot, but I took the credit anyways.

Closing behind us with a high-pitched hiss, the doors muffled the sounds outside to mere echoes of screams and gunfire. Through a window down the hallway I could see the green-tinted clouds beyond, lit up with tracer fire coming from the city’s defenses. I swallowed numbly, leaning against the wall while my legs continued to burn from the molten debris.

“Who are these soldiers?” Twilight gasped, her eyes following mine. “I-I don’t understand....”

“It- it’s alright,” I tried to sputter, my vision warping out of focus. I stepped back from the group, unable to focus as each of them spoke. Nopony looked at me.

Fluttershy moaned pathetically, holding her hooves over her head. The girls had bunched up together, either staring at me, the window, or frantically looking around to stare at something else that didn’t remind them they were just shot at. Rarity wrapped a leg around her neck, whispering something into her ear.

“Why is everypony shooting at each other?” Rainbow bellowed, gesturing wildly to the door with her hoof. “I don’t remember much about that stuff in history class but I know nothing like that happened!”

“Those aren’t anything like the fireworks back home...” Pinkie grumbled, standing next to Twilight. “These ones are mean looking.”

“It’s because they’re not fireworks, Pinkie. It’s like the cannons the Royal Guard uses back in Equestria, only a lot bigger and... and something - more advanced.”

“Will y’all be quiet?” Applejack hissed, moving in to stand over Fluttershy and Rarity. “Fluttershy’s plum scared out of her wits!” I staggered backward, stopping at the wall. The back of my legs felt like they were melting into the fabric of my pants. I wasn’t going to be of use if I sank any lower.

Spike rushed past me, going to each pony and desperately prodding them and sputtering out questions. “Nothing hurt you, right? Rarity? Everypony’s okay, right?” He wobbled past me on his legs again, this time heading for Twilight, and I took another step back.

Everything was happening too fast. The pain had spread from just my legs, drilling into the rest of my body, just as the rocks had dug into my skin like hot bullets. To me, it was like each pony was speaking at the same time.

“There, there, dear Fluttershy, it’s all over. We are safe now, right, Jackson?” Rarity asked, her usually pristine hair ruffled from the escape. She gently looked up at me, fear burrowed in her eyes like a frightened animal. I gritted my teeth, but at least one of them had noticed I had completely sunk down to the floor. “...Jackson?”

Slowly, Twilight and Rainbow Dash looked at me, taking in my strained posture and pained expression. I didn’t want to think about what they saw, so I searched for a way to get them to move on. They needed to get to safety.

“The code to the armory is seven-seven-five-oh-nine,” I said quickly, panting. I slid into a more comfortable position against the wall - or at least as comfortable as being in burning pain would allow me. “I’ll try and catch up. If I don’t, tell AIA to contact Aaro, or one of the available captains. They’ll keep you safe.”

“Jackson, what’s wrong?” Twilight asked, taking a cautious step forward. “Why can’t you take us?”

“My legs are injured,” I said. “I’m out for this one until a medic comes around..”

“Your legs are fine,” Rainbow yelled, holding her hooves out dramatically. “Seriously! Nothing’s wrong with them! How could you even be shot when nopony out there actually shot at us? I mean, sure, your guys were shooting at them, and they were shooting back, but when did they go for us? Why were you shooting in the first place?”

“What are you...?” I swallowed a lump in my throat, but it didn’t go away. My legs were fine. They were okay. Nothing was wrong, except for the fact that as the phantom pain in my legs faded, it was replaced by a crushing fear in my chest. I did my best to ignore it, struggling to my feet as slowly as I could, just incase they were wrong. “I could have sworn...”

“Jackson, I don’t mean to be pushy, but can we please talk about what in the hay that was another time?” Twilight blurted out, eyes bulging. She and Rainbow had turned their attentions back to the window, and I walked over to them without hesitation. Through the blue-tinted thick monstrosities lining the hallway, I could clearly see the initial swarm of landing craft tapering off, focusing on zipping through the towers of the city rather than the well defended capitol building. Off to one side of the city buildings I could see the tell-tale bulge of a cannon pointed at the sky. One of the GOD cannons.

It burned, and crumbled before our eyes, falling into itself from the pressure of the fighters barraging it.

“Right. We need to hurry. Everyone, get to the elevator, now,” I said, waving at the closed elevator doors down the hall. Three awkward, deep breaths later, nopony had moved, instead looking at Fluttershy. She hadn’t stopped shivering, but at least she was no longer whimpering to herself. “Fluttershy. We can’t really go anywhere if you stay there. We need to keep moving.” Or we’re probably all going to die. I bit my tongue at the last second, kneeling down next to her. “It’s going to be scary, maybe, but life can be scary sometimes. Let’s go.”

“A-are you s-sure we’ll be... safe?” she asked softly, her voice standing out against the muffled cannon retorts and explosions from outside.

I nodded, catching myself at the last minute and whispering back, “I promised you’ll be safe. I just...” I sighed, standing up. Intense pain, the previous feelings that had shot up and down my legs dulled down to a numb tingling, a slight reminder that everything could go wrong at any moment, and next time I might really lose my legs. What had I been thinking, telling them to go on like that?

“Just be brave for me. We need to get your girls geared up,” I repeated, failing to swallow down the lump once again. Like a slow-moving caterpillar crawling along a leaf, we all seemed to turn in the same direction: the elevator.

~=V=~

-ERROR CODE 20-8-5-18-5 9-19
-PLAYBACK ERROR 1 4-5-19-20-9-14-25
-HOMEBOUND DATA OPENED 20-8-1-20 13-21-19-20
-ENCRYPTED FILES TRANSFERRED 2-5
-
-LET IT BEGIN 6-21-12-6-9-12-12-5-4

“I assume... ah... you’re going to kill me.”

“You assume too many things, Admiral Amber. I believe it is a fault we both share.”

“Well why don’t you? Everyone else is dead. The system is yours. I... hhhng... stand before you unarmed, injured- hrrrg… and stranded. End it all. You win.”

“Because... I don’t want to, at least not yet. I suppose in killing you, I rid myself of the challenge of killing you... if that makes any sense. Plus, there’s something I want you to see.”

“It... doesn’t.”

“No matter, my friend.... Look! The surface of your beloved planet burns. It looks beautiful from up here.”

~=V=~

There wasn’t a window in this elevator. I was thankful for that.

“This isn’t standard wartime invasion procedures,” Twilight muttered, somehow managing to pace in the small cabin. “Just to be sure, nobody was hurt, right? Everyone has one of those VALK things?”

“Correct,” I said numbly, looking at the space where the window would be if it weren’t covered by a sheet of blast protection. “Chances are not a single person on either side, despite what’s happening out there, has been killed or injured at all. And, er, our ‘standard procedures’ are a lot different than yours, apparently.”

“No, no, even if nopony is dying, there’s no reason to cause so much property damage and chaos... There’s no point in harming the other side when the victor can simply take them over and utilize them for their own needs. Why... kill an enemy when you can conquer them and force them to work for you as a vassal or a slave?”

“Twilight!” Rarity exclaimed, holding a hoof to her mouth is horror. The others had similar reactions.

“I’m just trying to figure out the logic behind it all. It doesn’t make any sense! Conquerors and warlords in Equestrian history have never... massacred a populace, just simply taken them over.”

“A lot of things won’t make sense to you out here, Twilight. I’m fully willing to explain them later, but what do you think would happen if you were to lead an army, take over another nation, and do what you just suggested? You’ve won for the time being, but the enemy leaders still exist and most likely can still build up a resistance against you. Without... removing the enemy force, they will just continue opposing you. Bad or good, people will often fight to the death for their country and king. Removing them by force is necessary to establish peace over a conquered territory, because it usually removes hope.”

“But removing hope isn’t possible!” Pinkie said, smiling proudly for once, she was about to contribute. “I’d know! Sometimes, when things look bleak and hopeless, ponies will always find hope. I know that if some big meanie managed to take over Equestria and locked the princesses away forever, I wouldn’t lose hope, I’d just be fighting harder to make sure there was peace and everypony was happy!” She sat down on her haunches, still smiling brightly. Ponies, dragon, and man alike all stared blankly at her with deadpan expressions.

“How did you just make sense?” I asked, leaning up against the wall. “Whatever, but even if you can’t stamp out hope, it would still be illogical to leave an enemy leader in a position of power within a conquered area. They can’t be allowed to have the resources to defeat those conquering them.”

“But by ‘removing enemy leaders’ you mean killing them. Disregarding the fact that it’s completely monstrous in the first place, it makes them martyrs and icons for the ponies conquered to look up to and emulate. If you remove a leader, all it will do is create a new one.”

“I don’t really mean to interrupt ‘yer nice little, er, frankly disturbing debate, but we’re currently trying to run for our lives, right?” Applejack asked, motioning toward the door with her head. On cue, it slid open to reveal the familiar hallway leading to the armory.

I huffed. “Correct. Let’s go, girls. We need to get you suited up.”

“Hoo-boy, things don’t look too peachy down there,” Applejack said, taking an audible gulp. We passed over one of the glass pathways, but when I looked down, I was momentarily happy to see that everything was obscured by black smoke; the only sign that anything was moving down there were flashes of grenades and guns.

The enemy had landed at some point, and had either taken the city already, or were going for the capitol first. I wasn’t sure whether to be angry I couldn’t see past the smoke, or happy that the ponies couldn’t, and I did my best to ignore the quickened breathing of each pony as they looked down to the swirling mass of destruction below.

Part of me paid attention to what the ponies were doing, and all of the other parts worked on planning our escape. The admirals knew I had a job to do, and they trusted me. I was going to do it.

“It doesn’t look like anything at all. Jackson, what do you think is happening?” Twilight asked, gulping. She looked up at me, eyebrows scrunched up in contemplation.

“What we’re good at. Defending what we promised to defend. Reinforcements should be arriving soon. This skirmish won’t last longer than an hour and everything should be over pretty quickly,” I rattled off almost automatically. We were getting closer to the armory, at least, but one step at a time felt too slow, each one sounding like gong echoing through the metal hallways. “Now, as soon as we-”

“Jackson!” a familiar voice called. The others and I spun around to see Lilian jogging down the hallway behind us, one whole side of her jacket uniform dirtied by black smoke and her face red. Each movement was sluggish, and she stumbled to a stop when she caught up to us, panting. One hand was glued to her burned side, hiding whatever lay beneath the middle of the black splotch. “I.... Jackson, there you are. Lost you in the first fighter run.”

“Where is everyone else?” I asked, sliding over to her side. I wrapped an arm under her shoulder and hoisted her up, eliciting a grunt of pain from the engineer. Taking a shuddering breath, she accepting the support and let me lead her down the hall. The ponies followed, looking on with mixed expressions of horror and pity.

“We had to scatter, after we covered your retreat. Most of us tried to get into the Towers, but... the fighting started up big time. Roland and Dylan stayed behind to make sure we could escape. Aran went for you, and Evo and I tried to make it to the Homebound.”

“Where’s Ensign Evo now, then? Is he injured?” I asked as we continued our slog through the hallway. A rumble sounded under the tower, and a shining bout of green fire erupted from the smoke.

“He’s fine. He sent me a ‘pad message a moment ago. Said he’s in the Homebound and ready to fire up the engines on your command.”

“And the others?”

“Aran disappeared in the smoke before we could do anything. No idea where she went. Roland and Dylan are still down there, last I checked, but their communications are down, so your best bet would be contacting someone else about that. It... might be a problem, though. I barely managed to get out before the fighting started up on the ground.”

“Did they take the city?” I asked, casting a look out to the spires beyond the tower’s courtyard.

“N-no. They just landed in the middle of it and are headed straight for the Towers. Gah... I need some bio-mend on this dang burn. Can we get a move on?”

“Right, right. Girls, you know where it is. Get a move on. We’ll catch up,” I said to the others. Everypony except Fluttershy and Rarity burst into a frightened, tense gallop, the remaining two looking uncertainly up at me.

“Are y-you sure, Jackson?” Fluttershy stammered, eyes flickering to the billowing smoke over a thousand feet below us. She gulped. “I r-really don’t think we should split up...”

“I’m inclined to agree with Fluttershy, Captain Amber. This doesn’t seem to be the type of situation where splitting up would be the best course of action,” Rarity added, giving, curiously enough, a look of compassion toward Lilian.

“It’s not splitting up if you’re just going ahead. Wait at the door to the armory and we’ll be there soon,” I said. “Don’t worry. You girls are strong enough to handle yourselves unattended for thirty seconds.”

“Alright. Very well then. Come on, Fluttershy. We can’t let the others worry, now can we?” Rarity called, breaking into a quick canter. Fluttershy nervously looked between her friend and I, opting to spread her wings and glide after Rarity a second later.

Lilian chuckled dryly, and stumbled. We weren’t going very fast as it was, but I slowed down anyways. “Good job getting rid of them. What did you want to know, Captain?”

“Did you get any idea what the casualties have been so far? Have we lost anyone? Locations?” I whispered, keeping a close eye on the retreating forms of the ponies.

“Leader Dylan and half of the College got taken out in one of the runs. They VALKed to a secure location nearby, as far as I know. Comm-chatter started tapering off after that. Is yours broken or something?”

“No, just haven’t bothered listening in,” I muttered. I looked down at my datapad’s messages, where I knew the verbal communications would be typing themselves down incase I lost my headset. I could still hear it crackling in my right ear, but I ignored it. “I was too busy dealing with the girls. What about our fighters?”

“San used his VALK to get to them, I presume. Shouldn’t you know these things?”

“I do know them. I just wanted to double-check if they actually happened,” I said, swallowing at the lump in my throat for the hundredth time. It didn’t budge. “I just need someone to talk to. Answer me honestly. Do you think we have a clear shot for the Homebound once we’re done here?”

“No, sir. Not on foot.”

“Good. I’ve got a plan to get there that should be safe. After that, we’re getting these girls back to their planet. We’ll make the first jump to Kelta, get an escort there, and be dropping them off in Equestria before tomorrow ends.”

We turned the corner and got a full view of the girls lined up patiently by the door, speaking to each other in hushed, conspiratory voices. Spike had, apparently, leapt up onto Twilight’s back at some point, and seemed to be resting there for the time being. Applejack and Rainbow had taken the lead, or at least the silent charge of being the group’s protectors while I was away. They stood on either side - Rainbow flying, of course - and offered a mean glance to any suspicious dust particle that floated their way. Other than us, the hallway was deserted.

Lilian and I shared a humorless chuckle, speeding up our shambling walk and stopping at the door. The girls parted, letting us through, and I let Lilian prop herself up against the side of the wall, giving my arms plenty of space to gracelessly jab the code in.

“We’ll go over the plan when we get you girls geared up,” I started, the door swishing open. “Make sure you do it- gurrchk!” I slammed into the metal threshold of the door, a grey, clawed hand wrapped around my throat. My head spun from the impact, and it felt like my brain completely turned off for a moment.

“Aran!” Lilian barked, limping closer to intervene. The hand left me, and I clutched at my sore, exposed neck. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, but last I heard on the comms, soldiers entered through the top of the Towers. I-I didn’t realize...” Aran sputtered, backing up. Behind her, their angular KaidenTech rifles rigidly aimed at my head, stood three Tower guards, helmets covering their expressions. “Stand down.”

“Yes ma’am,” one said, all of them lowering their weapons at once. He nodded toward me, but I could tell he was looking at the ponies gathered behind me. “Good to have you here, sir. We’re getting reports of enemies already bleeding into the other tower. We were ordered to guard here.”

I swallowed, rubbing my throat again, and walked into the armory. Everything was as it should’ve been, except for the battle outside, and I detected nothing out of place. We would be safe here. Aran followed me as I walked over to the gear locker. “Sorry again, sir.”

“I’ve had worse,” I mumbled, fiddling with the lock. The door swung aside to reveal the life-saving gear completely untouched and waiting to gather dust. Filing in behind me, the girls silently looked at their gifts from the Wing. Twilight stepped forward, and I held her pair out to her. “Can you help them put this on, Twilight? I need to get something.”

“Alright, Captain, but I really need to talk to you after this,” Twilight replied, frowning. Nevertheless, she levitated the gear from my hands and attempted to wrap them around her legs. It took two seconds before they were hopelessly tangled. “These things are really hard to put on with levitation, you know.”

“Why?” I asked, backing away from the locker and the ponies by a few steps.

She sighed, removing the mess from her leg and starting over. “Lots of little bits to control and move around. Levitation is a lot easier if it’s just one or two objects, especially smaller ones.”

I sighed, glancing at the ground for a minute. “I’ll be right back if you still need help, but for now, just do what you can. And make sure you turn them on like I showed you.” She nodded, her tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth, and kept trying to fit it onto her leg. Biting my lower lip, I spun around and made my way to the opposite, far end of the armory, taking quick, decisive steps that retorted loudly against the metal floor.

Stopping at one of the lockers - my locker - I rolled my shoulders back and grunted. The locker opened at my, and only my, touch, because engraved on a small, unimpressive rectangle stamped to the front of it was Admiral Jackson Amber. I never bothered to have it changed, mostly because I hardly ever used the locker itself. I opened it and looked inside.

I had only opened it last month, before the Homebound left on its suicide mission, and before that, once five years before. How it had managed to survive the years, especially with Brown running the place, I’d never know.

A personalized helmet, which I used in place of the typical EPA suits’ or armored helmets, hung from the top shelf, a thin, wiry headset next to it. Below them was a formal uniform that wore a coat of dust and probably would for a long, long time. At the bottom was a gun, a holster, and a Valkyrie device; it was an officer’s pistol of my own design, heavy in class and close to my heart, and the other thing was something I’d taken to wearing on a bad day.

Most of the College, and quite a few members of the Wing itself had their own unique weapons to suit their own needs and fighting styles. Aaro had his overcharged pistol with explosive rounds. San had his personalized and heavily modified Raptor Fighter. Grezz had his fists. I just carried a big gun.

In the corner was a discarded rank pip. I ignored it and grabbed the pistol, holster, and VALK. The door slammed shut, nudged by my hand, and I slowly leaned forward until the tip of my forehead touched the locker door. Everything, besides the dull thumping of explosions and gunfire, and the strained sounds of annoyance from Twilight and her friends, was silent.

“I hate this, you know,” a heavily armored man said from the shadows. I recognized him instantly, but I didn’t move. “It’s stupid.”

“I know, Mercer,” I said. “I hate it too.”

“We could easily just bombarded them from orbit. Hell, we could just land a few squads in and take them out with those. Why didn’t we take it by force?”

“What?” I started, looking up.

A tall armored figure came out from the corner, armor clinking with each step. Even in the light, it felt like I was looking at a shadow. Mercer was as old and scarred as the non-Wing armor he wore, the golden diamond-and-wings painted haphazardly on the shoulder guard. The blue-skinned man snorted, towering over me. “Earth. We could have it by now. I... read the reports. Most of us did. Something as monumental as the Sol system will not be kept secret for long. All it would’ve taken was for you to simply claim it as ours, and it would be ours.”

“We do not want a repeat of Draxis Ferys, Commander,” I retorted, staring indifferently up at the soldier. “We are not murderers or conquerors. We are peacekeepers.”

“We are also delusional, apparently. The Wing is never at peace, just in smaller conflicts than others. If those so-called ambassadors of yours decide they don’t like us, we lose any chance we had at peacefully occupying Sol. It will be on your shoulders.”

“Quite frankly, I have enough on my shoulders as it is, so what’s one more thing?” I sighed, closing my eyes to gather my thoughts. “I... realize the political importance of Sol, Mercer. I know why we need Earth, but the fact is that conquering them through force is a last-resort. Peace must be attempted first, and it must be tried long and hard before any violent action is taken. These are a peaceful people and they will not want to fight us,” I hissed, pointing over to Twilight. The group chattered restlessly amongst themselves, only three of them sporting the leg-bound devices given to them. “And I will make sure we do not fight them, either.”

“I realize this, but they are not us. They are not as desperate as we are-”

“Desperate? We are not desperate,” I interrupted, jabbing my forefinger finger into his chestplate. “You are desperate! We will not betray innocents and allies just because somebody declared it necessary.”

“Have you not looked outside that door?” Mercer scolded, pointing in the direction of the exit. “An army is here, trapping us, killing us! Some time ago we could easily have fended this attack off, but look at us now. Do we not seem desperate? Are you going to deny the fact that we must fight? Why are you not out there fighting alongside our brothers instead of running away?”

“You don’t think I want to fight?” I hissed, my eyes wide. “I want to be down there so bad, fighting for what I swore to protect just as you did! But I have a job to do, so I’m going to do it. If you’re so bloodthirsty, then why are you here?”

“Doing my job,” he sighed. “Either way, we must fight. You of all people know this.”

“Then we will fight,” I shot back. “We’ll fight the people shooting at us, not the people needing our protection. I don’t care what we could gain, but we are not turning against them now. If we are ever pushed to fight them... if we really start losing that badly that our minds are clouded by fear, I’m going to fight tooth and nail to stop you.”

“I...” he sighed, backing up a step. “Very well. I do not wish to take Earth by force, but it is the only logical solution I can think of if this plan fails. Until then, we must fight the current battle and keep our promises. I have sworn an oath to protect them, and I shall do so until I can no longer.”

“Good, glad we’re-”

“Jaaaccckksoon!” Twilight screamed from the other end of the armory. Leaving Mercer behind, I walked over to find her fuming over another tangled mess of a VALK. “These things are impossible for me to put on.”

“Why didn’t any of you help her, then?” I asked, folding my arms. The three guards from earlier, standing next to the door, shrugged in unison. “None of you, really? Gah. Where’s the ensigns?”

“Went for some privacy, I think. Teryn’s patching ‘er up.” One of them lazily waved in the direction of another door. My eye twitched.

“Jackson?” Twilight called.

“Coming, coming,” I hissed through clenched teeth, one hand zipping up to my nearly forgotten headset. I jogged over to the ponies, aiming for Rarity, one of the three ponies without their gear. Halfway there I fell into a kneeling position, sliding the rest of the way and nabbing the levitating VALK from the air. “Let’s get this over with. Aran, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, sir. Lilian’s almost good to go.”

“Right. You two, your job is to locate Roland and Dylan, and send them a message to get to the ship ASAP. Girls?” I asked, looking over the group while my hands did the rest of the work on Rarity’s leg. “Everypony okay? I need you girls listening, and you need to be ready for it.”

“As nice as you have been to us, dear Captain, I really am at loss for words, considering what’s happening,” Rarity said, balancing on three legs so I could do my work unhindered. “Ooh, this is all so horrible!”

“Rarity, this ain’t the time for any drama,” Applejack said, moving beside me and frowning. “As for myself, Captain, I... well I have no idea what’s going on, but I’m with you if you need me.”

I nodded, putting the datapad on Rarity’s other leg, and grinned at Applejack. “Unless you count as a soldier over in Equestria, I’m afraid over here you’re all just civilians to us. Asking you to do anything but sit and watch or run and hide might make things more complicated than they have to be.” I paused, slowly wrapping the last strap on until it clicked into place, and then I let out a breath. Looking at Applejack with forlorn eyes, I shook my head solemnly. “I couldn’t ask you to fight on our behalf, either. We’re supposed to be protecting you, and showing you we’re worth the alliance, not making you soldiers.”

“New pair, Twilight?” I called. She levitated them over, dissipating her spell when I snatched them from the air. She looked down at the ground for a moment, before approaching me from Applejack’s side. I ignored her, putting the farm mare’s gear on and giving Twilight time to find the right words, for whatever she had to say.

“I’m - we all, actually - are going to need information after we leave, Captain. I don’t like any of this. But until then... I guess we’ll do anything you need us to. Right, girls?” She looked behind her to the rest of the motley group, the corners of her mouth gently tugging upwards. A breath caught in my throat at the chorus of affirmatives, and I quickly finished my job.

“Alright. The plan is pretty simple, really,” I said, moving on to Spike, who helpfully held his arms out to either side so I could wrap the backpack-like device around his small body. “With the VALKs on, you’re all capable of teleporting to certain areas. In this case, the Homebound. If Evo is already there, then you should be extra safe with him in case you need to fly out of there. Either way, I’m sending Lilian and Aran with you girls, but unless they walk out of there and give me good news, I’m staying behind.”

“Wait, what?” Spike suddenly asked, raising an eyebrow at me. “Weren’t you super big about sticking together?”

I ruffled the spines on his head, and gently pushed him in Twilight’s direction so I could turn to Fluttershy. “Yeah, I guess so, but I still need to find Dylan and Roland. And, well...” I sighed, looking directly at the ground to avoid their eyes. “I don’t want to leave my friends behind like this. They’ll probably be fine without me, but I still need to help them.”

“T-that’s very brave of you, Jackson,” Fluttershy mumbled, lifting up one hoof so I could slip the device over it.

“Bravery is only possible when you’re scared in the first place,” I said, chuckling dryly. I carefully wrapped the straps around her other leg, and looked her in the eyes. “This is my job. You girls are the ones that need to be brave, okay?”

“Um, okay. Thank you,” she whispered, backing up when I finished. I laid one arm on my knee, quickly surveying the ponies. All of them except for Pinkie Pie had their VALK and datapad on..

I walked over to her, snatching the awaiting VALK from the air. Moving to put it on, I knelt down in front of her. “I have absolutely no idea what to say to you, though. You’ve been pretty quiet this whole time. Anything wrong?”

“Oh, psssh, I talk all the time and you act annoyed, but as soon as I stop you start to get concerned?” Pinkie laughed, hopping over to wrap her other foreleg around me while, somehow managing to keep her other foreleg where it was just so I could finish putting the VALK on. “Make up your mind already, Cappy! Sure, ponies are fighting out there, and even I know it’s time to get our serious-faces on, but I’m definitely still me!” She paused, holding a hoof to her face. “Or am I? What if I’ve actually been a changeling this whole time? Gasp! What if we’re all changelings!?”

This time, I actually laughed, and the others joined in as well. “Well alright. Now about that plan, girls. Since I’m not walking you through a battlefield, you’ll all just have to use your VALKs to get there. Have any of you ever teleported before?”

“Yes,” they all replied in unison. I choked on the explanation I had prepared, my eyes widening.

“They’ve all helped me practice my spells at some point or another,” Twilight quickly explained, smiling innocently. “But yeah, we should all know what teleporting feels like; me more than anypony else. But I think it might be best to warn us anyways. There are lots of different kinds of teleporting. For instance, Blinking-”

“While I’m sure it’s all very fascinating, Miss Sparkle, we don’t have five hours to spare,” I interrupted, holding up one hand. “But basically, teleporting with a VALK can make you extremely dizzy and nauseous, especially for beginners. We don’t have any bags on hand, so I’m just going to ask you to please not throw up in my ship. Does everypony, and you too, Spike, understand that one simple rule?”

“You seem to have a lot of simple rules,” Rainbow quipped, hovering over to me and crossing her VALK-laden forelegs. “But I think we can all manage. Celestia knows we’re used to crazy-insane stuff happening by now.”

I snorted. “Well, now that you’re in space, it’s likely to get a whole lot weirder for the lot of us,” I said, two more chuckles forcing themselves out of my throat before I could reach up to my headset. “Lilian, Aran, what’s your status?”

“Right behind you,” a voice echoed through my earpiece and the armory. I turned around to see the two ensigns slowly making their way out of a small side door. Aran smirked, patting her comrade on the back. “She’s tough, and she’ll be fine just as long as she doesn’t strain herself too much until we can get her some real medical aid.”

“I can still operate turret controls, and that’s what I plan on doing,” Lilian said, grinning ear-to-ear and rubbing the blackened, charred side of her uniform with her opposite hand.

“Well if you two have the time, I need you to calibrate the girls’ VALKs so they’ll end up at the Homebound. Lilian, that means communicating with Evo to get the coordinates for them. Are you in contact with him?”

“He messaged me over the datapad stream with that information a while ago, like I told you. The ship’s safe and he’s holding his own out in the shipyards, waiting,” she replied, the smile wiped off her face in an instant. “Sir, we got a lot of reports about soldiers in the Towers, and it’s been confirmed they’re making their way through this one from the top-down.”

“And we happen to be near the top. Yes, I get it, and no I haven’t been listening,” I retorted, sighing inwardly. The reason I hadn’t turned on my headset was obvious. Nobody wanted to listen to their friends getting massacred while they ran in the opposite direction. “Just hurry up and do it, then. I’m going to find Roland and Dylan, and unless I order you to do anything otherwise, I want you waiting at the ship for us.”

The engineer nodded, giving a quick salute and kneeling down next to Rarity, who happened to be the closest pony to the engineer. Fingers worked like a whirlwind on the bulky rectangular screen. I turned around, walking closer to the door and the three guards, and fiddled with the side of my headset.

“Aaro, you there?”

“Jack- Ah! Where the hell are you?” came the hazy reply, gunshots in the hundreds screaming in the background.

“No time for small talk, man. Where’s Roland and Dylan?” I asked, leaning into the door. I could hear the bursts of explosions from his end matching the faint ones outside the armory walls. The gunfire must’ve been thick as rain down there.

“Who?”

“My ensigns, Aaro, where are they? They were down there with you, last I checked. Send them up to the armory.”

“Those two? They’re down here fight- Did you just say armory?” he replied, an uncharacteristic dread filling his voice.

I swallowed, grasping for the words. “Yes, yes I did. That’s where we all are.”

“No. No no no. Get out right now, Jackson. There’s a group on that floor and- incoming, get down!” he screamed, his voice suddenly obscured by a static-filled explosion. Wherever he was, he’d been VALKed out.

That wasn’t what I was listening to, though; I was honed in on the footsteps I could clearly hear outside, tromping down the hallway en masse. I couldn’t pick out an individual pair there were so many.

“Hostiles!” I shouted, the three guards instantly raising their bulky rifles to their shoulders and taking aim. Stepping back from the door, I latched onto my pistol and tore it from its holster. “Hold here! Lilian, get those sodding coordinates in! We’ll hold them off!”

“Jackson, what’s going on?” Twilight called from the collection of ponies. They were angled behind the lockers, so I couldn’t see them, and they couldn’t see me. Good, because I didn’t want them seeing what was about to happen.

Something behind the door made an obnoxious beeping noise.

“Fire at will!” I exclaimed to nobody in particular. Taking a deep breath, I raised the pistol with my right arm.

The door exploded.

(23) Bullets and Blades - Part Two

-Ophelius, Gantoris, Orion System.
-Official recorded beginning of the Octavian Conquest War.

-Gantoris Towers Main Armory.

-

Dance like water, hit like a boulder. This paraphrasing of my chosen and practiced style rarely has failed me.

The first soldier stomped through the doorway, his beetle-shell, insectoid battle-armor slicing through the smoke like a demon straight from the darkest depths of your imagination, where even you don’t dare to visit. He raised a jagged gun coated in the same reflective black as his armor and surely created to look as menacing as possible; made so that when someone saw it, they knew they were going to die. I shot first.

Half of my arm jerked backward from the impressive recoil, time slowing as foul-smelling smoke spilled out from the gun’s vent and into the air. The plasma-coated, miniscule projectile would have not only piercing effects on my enemy’s armor, but it would charr and burn on the way through his skull. He was lucky to be wearing a VALK, because otherwise his brains would be cooked medium-well and splattered against the helmets of his buddies.

Unfortunately, he did have a VALK, but no shields. The shot went straight through where his skull would’ve been half a nanosecond earlier and was absorbed into the shields of the soldier behind him. Left behind was a puff of dust and errant energy in his vague form, collapsing in on itself a moment later. It all happened in the span of a second.

I got my next two shots off, and this time I was joined by a chorus of similar retorts. There was nothing special about shooting poor fools going through a door in single file. The problem was that they knew what they were doing, and they were getting shot on purpose. I got my answer moments later, when in the heat of things, I hadn’t noticed how hot my gun had become. Auto-triggering the safety, like it was programmed to, the weapon suddenly became useless in my hands until the excess heat had vented. Enough pressure, and I’d fired off too many shots too quickly.

The simultaneous hiss of three more vent systems got my attention, and I realized how much trouble we were in. I was unarmed, and they knew it.

I walked forward, and the next one to rush into the room - gun drawn and teeth snarling - got a face full of the burning hot end of my pistol. I calmly kept the hot metal pressed against his face, and more of the black-clad soldiers stepped in the room to support him with the best of their capabilities. He wasn’t reassured, and screamed anyways. They shot him in the back, leaving me plenty of opportunity to grapple with another who had strayed too close.

Using up what strength I could muster, I yanked his gun aside and pulled him close, spinning him sideways so his shields caught the volleys of deadly green spikes meant for me. This one, also without a helmet, breathed heavily from behind his respirator mask and stared at me with dull, shining grey eyes.

Him and his ilk all bore the hated characteristics of their race, which could be summed up as describing them as having green, barbed skin, and everything else looking far too much like a regular human variant to be comfortable.

I cracked the pistol’s grip against his face, part of me grinning at the satisfying crunch. Another shot from my gun went into the growing crowd, zipping through two VALK shadows before it impacted a shield. Ten soldiers had made it into the room, including the unconscious one. Three fell to timely shots, and I turned to see the other Tower guards calmly staring down the hologram sights of their weaponry.

Snarling, two of the soldiers nearest to me reached behind their armor, pulling out a sword made in the same style as their weaponry: black, green, and designed specifically to let the galaxy know it was something to be feared when seen. Metallic clicks signalled the guns sealing into their armor, and they each took a careful step toward me, thick blades at the ready.

I considered shooting them. It would be easy, after all. They were stupid enough to try and beat me in combat I was unprepared for, but they were also smart enough to recognize my advantageous position and call upon an almost sacred code of honor on the battlefield: If a man draws a blade, fight him with one.

Sound faded into the background, and I sucked in a deep breath of clinically cold air. Sweat and the stench of ejected steam floated around the room, and I stared my targets down with narrowed eyes. They moved first.

At the last second before we collided I bent my knees and skidded under the pointed end of a sword aimed for my throat. The moment his arm passed over me, my right arm jerked up and cracked the butt of the pistol into his face, made worse by the still-overheated pistol pressed against it. He screamed in agony, stuttering to a stop a few feet away.

Another sword came for my chest, swung in a long arc. I spun to meet it, the pistol flipping carefully in my hand until the top side of it came in contact with the blade’s edge. An ear-splitting clang filled my skull. He stared dumbfounded at the carefully-position pistol blocking what should have been a lethal blow from a blade designed to cut through steel.

I grinned, and rattled off, “It’s my gun. I made it out of the same stuff we armor our ships with.” Blinking stupidly, he looked between me, the deadlock, and then my fist approaching his face at dangerously high speeds.

Soldier number two had a loving first date with the floor, just in time for me to narrowly dodge a swing from number one. He howled in rage, swinging wildly. A third soldier approached, sword in hand, only to vanish from an awry attack. Each time he swung, I dodged, until my back hit the wall and the smile fell off my face.

“Stay still!” he barked in rage, cringing at the movement of his burned face. He stabbed uselessly at the point where I had been on the wall, sliding by with the skin of my boots barely intact. I wrapped the crook of my elbow around his face and leapt, forcing us both to the ground. Projectiles slammed into the ground around us, but I rolled to the side. The heat from the shots coated my back, and I barely had time to even think about standing when a boot slammed into my chest.

I cried out, skidding across the floor and rolling to a stop a foot away. Blue beams crossed above me, and the Tower Guards lit the offender up. I stood up in the midst of his VALK shadow, the particles swirling in agitation as I walked through them. Five more had entered the room, and two were keeping by the blast door for cover, taking potshots at the guards hiding on either side of the locker.

I casually swung out of the way of an incoming armored fist. My own fist supplanted his ugly face, which was an improvement on his looks as far as I was concerned. Sliding my fingers under his breathing filter as he reeled back, I tore it from his face and walked on. Guttural screams filled the hallway behind me as the other two rushed forward. Walls and other sights faded away. There were only my enemies, and my self.

The closest one became nothing but a shadow and the fizzling remains of a plasma-coated bullet trail. Left alone and only holding a rifle, the other swung at me with the butt of his gun. I wasn’t fast enough, and the hard metal impacted into my face. The crack wasn’t so much a sound as it was a state of being that rocked up and down my body and sent me stumbling backwards.

My vision came back to me just in time to let me dodge the second swing of the gun, this time accompanied by a slick grey bayonet that mechanically slid into place. It whistled past me once, then twice, and each time I ducked. The third time he connected, but not with the bayonet. With the gun sitting stupidly at my side, I latched my arm around it and wrenched it free from the soldier’s grasp. Part of an enraged scream poured through his lips before I shot him.

More were coming into the room. I couldn’t count them, but I could still fight them. Three more ran at me, guns at the ready. I shot them, and then I shot two more. The room was getting full and it felt like there was something pressing on in my brain from all sides. I never once thought it, but I knew something was wrong; it was just hard to figure out what kind of something it was, since the room was filled to the brim with wrongness.

I launched into a grapple with another soldier, holding his sword at bay while he tried to point my pistol in any direction other than his face. From the corner of my eye, I could tell that the guards were going to be overrun any minute if I didn’t start pulling my weight in the fight. Someone screamed, and then I saw him.

He stood inside the destroyed blast door, taking up the space like a whale. What little armor he did wear was only covering the vulnerable areas on his body, and was as pitch black as the shell-like armor that made up the rest of his skin, if you could call it that. Scorch marks and ancient scars permeated the outside of the living tank, and I recognized them all; I’d caused a lot of them.

Intelligent, rage-filled black eyes glared at me from inside the plated, angular head protection that had earned the race their nickname, “wedgeheads”. I could hear what he said through the cacophony of shots and screams, and I could taste every drop of malice and hatred he dumped into the last word. It was palpable disgust.

“If it ain’t the ‘ero.”

It distracted me just long enough for an armored fist to jab me in the stomach. I lurched forward, and the soldier laid one powerful punch into my bandaged arm. My officer’s pistol clattered to the ground somewhere, and I caught a glimpse of it moments before another punch hit me in the gut. I swung my arm in a long arc, smashing into the soldier’s helmeted faceplate and sending him spiraling to the ground in a mist of broken glass. Fist throbbing and tucked under my other arm, I desperately dodged out of the way of another soldier, eyes glued to the ground where I thought my pistol was. I saw it, limped forward to grab it, and bumped into a wall that shouldn’t have been there.

The orglockian’s black eyes stared into mine, and a sinister grin crossed his face. Molten words dribbled from his lips. “‘Allo there, ‘ero.”

Don’t ever get punched into a wall by a living tank, if you can help it. It does nothing good for you and will probably smash your spine if it isn’t enhanced. I could feel two of my ribs crack anyways, and searing pain rushed into my chest. Nevertheless, I felt obligated to squeak out a, “hello to you too.”

The guard next to me didn’t help me up, but he still looked surprised at my state and stared for a moment. His reward was a shot in the arm, and all I saw was his surprised expression before another shot went through where his head should’ve been. I limped forward as fast as I could, away from the battle, and shouted in a hoarse voice, “Aran!”

Bright orange teryn eyes came into view, followed by the dinner-plate pony eyes. I tried to say something, but only my mouth moved for a few seconds, as if my voice was lagging behind. “We need to get them out of here. Do they all have the coordinates...?”

“Not all of them. We’ve still got Rainbow, Twilight, and Applejack to do. Lilian’s working on Fluttershy right now,” the ensign said, eyes suddenly drawn to something behind me. Twilight and Rarity looked like they were about to say something, but Aran’s hand zipped forward, sending an oddly shaped cylinder in my direction before they could say anything. They didn’t need to.

I caught the device and pressed the singular, unobtrusive button on one side. My body swung round, arm outstretched. Gentle metallic sounds cut through the air, and where there was air, there was now blade. The soldier had no time to react before I cut between his head and neck.

His VALK, however, did. The portable katana stuck into a locker’s metal side, a clear line removed from the wafting dust shadow. I breathed heavily, and flinched from the pain. “I’ll hold them off as long as I can,” I said, using both hands to tear the sword free.

“There’s got to be twenty of them back there, and we’ve only got you and those three guards. You won’t last a minute, and I need more than that,” Lilian called, viciously inputting numbers into Fluttershy’s datapad. The pegasus shivered uncontrollably, and looked over at me.

“You’ll be okay, right, Jackson?” asked Fluttershy.

“Probably,” I said, shrugging. “I do this for a living, and sometimes as a hobby.”

“Oh,” she whispered, looking down. “Alright.”

“Any other questions, queries?” I said, one ear tilted to the sound of approaching footsteps. Lots of them. “I’m sort’a cramped for time.” I turned around just in time to see another guard get pummeled into the wall, and swarmed by a flurry of punches from the orglockian. Eventually his fist passed through the VALK shadow and slammed into the wall, and then he turned to me.

“Jackson?” Twilight asked. I turned to face her.

“Yeah?” I asked.

She glanced at the ground for a moment, a worried look filling her expression. When her eyes met mine again, they looked different. Full of something I didn’t expect. Admiration. “Thank you.”

“Uh, sure, Miss Sparkle. Like I said, this is my job,” I muttered in answer, drawing my sword into a ready stance. Two black-clad soldiers had made their way down the row of lockers, and I could hear more coming. The armory was filled with their echoing footsteps clacking against the metal ground, and the sulfuric smell of vented plasma permeated the air. Sulfur was better than death, in my opinion.

I took a few steps forward, blocking the girls off from my view, and glowered at the charging soldiers with the katana at the ready. They lunged, their broad swords gleaming in the mechanical light, and screamed.

“Real scary,” I grunted mid-swing, shoving the first sword away and plunging mine into where the man’s chest would be. I was prepared for that, and I slid through the shadow and out the other side. The particles burst outward like a balloon popping in slow-motion, the tip of my blade paving the way.

I brought my sword up to block the strike I knew would come, and metal rang against metal. Flinching from the surge of agony in my chest, I pushed out of the lock, spun in the blink of an eye, and cut diagonally into what should’ve been a soldier. I took a deep, agonizing breath, and heard Aran cry out.

Then I remembered there were two lanes. The other guard had obviously gone down. Boots barely touching the floor, I ran back to see the first soldier pop out from the other side, his gun pointed directly into the grouped up ponies. Aran grabbed for her sidearm, but it was too late.

I charged, spanning the meters in what felt like seconds. My blade plunged into the gun, sending the shots wide and a chunk of it flying. Scorched holes peppered the opposite wall, right next to Aran. Growling venomously, I shook the destroyed rifle off of my sword and plunged it through the soldier’s chest in one swift motion.

He disappeared in less than a blink of the eye, and the tip of my weapon collided against whatever was behind him with a dull thicking noise. The sapient wall’s bulky fingers wrapped around the metal blade stuck in its armor like a insignificant needle, and then he chuckled. “Got me,” the orglockian said, crushing the metal in his grip.

“Bugger,” I managed to croak out before it punched me in the face.

“Ya ‘onestly thought you could escape, didjanow?” I vaguely heard him say from my uncomfortable position on the ground.

“Jackson!” Twilight screamed. I could hear Rainbow flap her wings.

“Oi, no. Bad ‘orsey. If any of ya move ‘n inch, yer all dead,” the orglockian barked. “S’right. Back on the ground with ya.” A giant hand gripped the back of my jacket and hoisted me up. Colors swam in front of my vision, and if there was anything pressing in on my mind before, it was crushing it now.

“You won’t touch them,” I rasped out, eyes barely focusing on the ugly face in front of me. A moment later I figured out it was a locker.

“Me sword’ll do all the touching for me, really.” The hand let me go, and I wobbled on my legs just long enough for a fist to lay into my stomach. Gasping, I sunk to my knees. Warbling shapes entered and danced in my eyes. Soldiers had surrounded us.

“Was a pretty short fight, really. You not sick, are ya, Jackson?”

“Something like that,” I hissed, eyes clenched shut as another wave of molten pain cascaded down upon me.

“Ah. Shame. You’re much more fun to fight on even ground.”

“If you wait a week or two we can redo all of this, if you’d like. I’ll be better by then.”

He chuckled, and turned to look at the ponies with one hand on my shoulder. “Nah. We’ve got you all now, so there isn’t really any point in dragging it out. I ‘preciate your concern, though.”

“No problem.”

He shoved back on my shoulder, slamming my head against the locker. The girls had tucked themselves in a tight circle - so tight that it was impossible to tell if any one of them was in the center, or if they were all just piled on top of one another. Each one looked around them with terror sitting in their eyes like ice.

Aran and Lilian stood on either side of the circle, arms clenched into fists. The orglockian grabbed Aran by her slender neck, and yanked her forward. “Never did like you ‘ousecats. We’ll do you first. S’been a long time since I’ve got me ‘ands on one of you.”

“Let her go,” I barked weakly, taking another shuddering, painful breath. “You and I know full well you’re here for me.”

A dull thud marked the teryn’s body dropping to the floor, followed by her gasps for air. The soldier turned toward me, grinning sadistically. “Actually this’s probably the first time you’re dead wrong on that, Admiral Amber. Raise ‘m up, boys,” he chuckled, striding toward me. Two of the other soldiers jumped into the clearing, grabbing both of my arms and yanking me upright. They balanced me against the lockers, and one of the door handles dug into my back.

“It’s Captain Amber now, and you’re here for me. There’s no other possible reason.”

“Ya assume things far too often, Captain. So, er, ya into the ‘ousecats now? Or ya just want me to punch ya instead of it?”

“I’d prefer you keep your ugly face away from all of them, actually,” I grunted, struggling weakly against my captives. I briefly met Twilight’s horrified eye, but I tore my gaze away before she could get attached. If I couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see me.

I didn’t want them to see what I knew was coming next.

“Right, see,” the pile of armor muttered, “it’ll be fair, then. One for each. This one’s for the teryn.” His arm reeled back, and then barreled into my stomach at the speed of light.

Twilight screamed and Rainbow yelled and Fluttershy cried and Aran shouted and Lilian was hit and they pointed guns and the lights flashed then the darkness laughed and the demons danced at my eyes which looked to the stars and wished for something better but the world burned and the people screamed and I wanted to fly and the sun came down and lifted me up to the stars where the gods made me them and we drank and danced and sang and protected our people who cried out in the flames that burned and etched across my vision each passing moment and everyday that I stayed and fought and died and loved and lost and I hated the worlds that burned and the gods said it was good and hunted me and killed me and I killed them and they fought and I returned to save them so we could drink and dance and sing once more but the blood spilled from my mouth and the blackness laughed.

He pulled his fist back. I heaved, trying to push any amount of air through to my throbbing lungs.

“Take ‘em out into the hallway, but you two stay with me. Amber’s got quite a few crimes to answer to.”

I tried to say something incredibly inappropriate and vulgar, but all that came out was a gurgle and a few drops of blood.

“Shut up, you. This one’s for assuming we were here for you, you arrogant-”

He hit my chest and the world exploded.

~=V=~

-CODE ENCRYPTING 23-5 1-18-5
-CHANCE OF SUCCESS LOW 1-12-12 4-21-19-20
-ENCRYPTION UNSUCCESSFUL 23-5 1-18-5
-
-MANUAL CODE REQUIRED 1-12-12 1-19-8

“No matter, my friend.... Look! The surface of your beloved planet burns. It looks beautiful from up here.”

“I can see that just... hf-... fine, Sorlor. It’s not beloved, anyhow.”

“Yes, yes. I can tell. You are, after all, the one burning it.”

“I didn’t give that order... Falceon did. You, however, are the one that caused it. Again: why haven’t you killed me?”

“Simple question, complex answer, little hero. It’s not just the challenge. I want to keep you here, and I want you to be kept alive for a long, long time.”

“Oh? Go on.”

“We’re a lot alike, you and I. We’re both ruthless pieces of scum that will do anything and kill anyone to make sure we stay on top. Isn’t that right?”

“Sounds.... How-”

“Did I know about it? Your bridges have windows, you know. It isn’t too hard to see you shot one of your own crew. Now shut up and let me finish, m’kay? We’re a lot alike, but we’ve got two differences. One of them is that you abide by strict rules and moral code, and I don’t, but we both do the same evil things. So while I get off scott free, you’re the one that needs to answer for your crimes.”

“And?”

“And that’s why I’m going to make you watch the worlds you swore to protect, burn.”

~=V=~

“Jackson?” an angel asked.

“Yes, what is it?” I replied, only it came out as an elongated groan. Somebody beside me shifted.

“He’s awake!” another exclaimed.

Something touched my chest and stabbed into me. “Sorry, Amber,” God said.

I opened my eyes just in time to see one of the charred soldiers smack Aran’s hand away, the medical shot of Bio-Mend and stimulants chucked across the floor.

“Which idiot searched her?” he barked back to the other waiting troops. They shifted, but none volunteered an answer.

“It’s perfectly fine. Good work, Admiral, on getting them all alive and well. You even managed to not kill the Hero,” a muffled voice said, malice, hatred, and disgust dripping from his tone.

I gasped for air, the world still swirling into focus. Somebody moved me up on my knees.

“An easy task, Fleet Marshal sir. The Hero and I had a jolly ‘ol moment ‘ta catch up on old times.”

“Is that so?” My eyes focused suddenly, and unfortunately, on a lightly armored man standing in front of me. On my knees, barely capable of thought, I had to look up to see the rest of him. A dark mask covered all of his face, and it was topped off by what he probably thought was a fashionable navy cap. A cape sat on his shoulders and flowed down to the floor like a waterfall of blood. “Was it really jolly, Hero?”

“Go jump off a building,” I spat. I could feel his grin emanated from behind the black glass.

“Maybe later. Anyways, allow me to introduce myself. I am the Octavian Fleet Marshal B’wor King, and you are all our prisoners-of-war. For now, however, we are merely awaiting an extraction team. I’ll let you say some last words to your friends before that happens. Pilot, what is the ETA?”

“Five minutes, sir. Depends on them fighters outside.”

“Make sure it gets here. N- don’t touch that! Here, let me go do it,” he snarled, stomping off through a group of soldiers that parted before him like cowardly butter to a knife.

I shuffled around, the pain in my chest nearly unbearable. Our entire group, or what was left of it, had either been forced to their butts or knees in the hallway outside of the armory. Below us, and then below the pitch smoke, I could see glowing blue lines trace across the courtyard battlefield. For every blue or red line, there were three of the green.

Twilight and the girls sat in a group, half-huddled up to each other and all too terrified to speak. Aran was closest to me, with Lilian behind her. They all looked at me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, finding no reason to say anything else. There was nothing I could say that would matter, now.

“Jackson...” Twilight said, taking one look at the mass of guards behind me and gulping. “It wasn’t your fault. Nopony in the universe could’ve predicted this. But what they did to you-”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not my fault,” I interrupted, holding a hand up to wave her off. “I should’ve ordered you all to VALK out as soon as things started going south. They automatically lock on to the nearest friendly VALK frequency, so... I...” I trailed off, taking a rasping breath. Something felt like it was crawling throughout my chest; the Bio-Mend was doing its job, but it didn’t make it any less a disturbing feeling.

“Jackson, what they did to y-you,” Twilight blubbered. If her voice had been shaky before, it was suffering a massive earthquake now. “It was so horrible.”

“He just hit you over and over,” Rainbow muttered from her spot on the ground, sniffling into one of her forelegs. “You couldn’t even say anything.”

I traced my eyes over the rest of the ponies, and the two soldiers I had left. Something sparked. “Look,” I commanded through my ragged breaths, “whatever you saw, ignore it for right now, because I’m going to get you out of this soon. I’m going to be fine, and you’re going to be fine. That’s what’s going to happen.”

“And ya wanna know just how fine yer gonna be?” the orglockian growled from behind me. I swiveled to look at him.

“Right as rain, you ugly behemoth.” I smirked.

Evidently it was the wrong answer, the hard slap I received told me. I grinned inwardly, knowing full well that for his species, it was a light tap. “You stupid horse things wanna know ‘ow fine it’ll be? Take a looksie,” he said, turning me around and pushing my head forward. He grabbed onto the mess of what was once my finely gelled-back hair and pulled it away from my forehead.

“Ya see the scars there, eh? Well they aren’t scars, unfortunately. That’s what we call a Hero’s Brand. Cause, ya see, we don’t kill ‘eroes, we just let ‘em know they failed. No point in making martyrs, heh.” He shoved my head downward further, and closer to the ponies. “But this one! Hahaha, this one ‘ere’s special. It says The Hero. It’s only been given once. To this fine chap right here!”

“Oh Celestia,” Twilight whimpered. “None of us-”

“He didn’t tell you how ‘e got it, did ‘e? He got it because e’s a coward.”

“Don’t go and try tah make him feel guilty,” Applejack said, getting to her hooves. The soldiers near here shuffled uncomfortably, hands tightening around their guns. “He told Twi’ and RD, and they told us.”

“Indeed! Jackson is a good man. Not perfect, but good. I know he trusts us, and he certainly is no coward,” Rarity said, standing beside Applejack and looking defiantly at the orglockian. “Who may I ask are you, to say these things about him?”

A low, rumbling chuckle seeped out from the alien’s faceplate, his eyes closed tightly. He brought his hand back - making me flinch instinctively - and brought out an ancient, thick broadsword. The rectangular blade, colored blood red alien markings, was as wide as two of my arms put side-by-side, and instead of ending in a tip, ended in a flat edge. It was as if the designer had started out with a sword and mid-way through decided to make it a war hammer.

He slammed it into the glass in front of me, and leaned on it with what was a cheerful smile to him, and a malicious sneer to everyone else. I looked at the blade from the hilt down, taking in the ancient text coating the side. It ended at the glass, a spiderweb of thin cracks threading out from where it hit. I looked back up, repressing a grin.

“Fleet Admiral Sorlor. Pleasure t’meetcha,” he said, staring at Twilight.

She recoiled as if he’d punched her. The others followed her lead. “S-sorlor? The Sorlor?”

“‘ero here tell you all about me, then?”

“A bit,” she said, gulping. “Enough. I thought you were an emperor, though.”

“Was, and I have the right to claim the title of Orglockian Emperor anytime I wish,” he spat, standing back up.

I snorted. “Except that you’d be an emperor without an army or land. The real Empire is just fine with you gone, and last we saw, you were desperately trying to get a foothold with whatever was left of your old army, trying to seize power under the title of emperor. Got demoted, did we?”

“Well last I saw, you were an Advanced Admiral, leading the forces of the Wing to glory or justice or whatever you call it. Peace Through Power, right?” he chuckled aimlessly, waving his hand through the air. “I couldn’t care less. Time changes some things, right?”

Quirking an eyebrow, I hazarded a glance into his eyes. “You also sound stupid, but I guess that’s just the translator ring’s fault.”

He blinked, taken aback. “The what? Whaddya mean-...” he trailed off, gripping the sword’s hilt tightly and looking off into the distance. “A’right, got it, sir. I’ll be right there,” he said, nodding down to me. “Ya stay put, got it?”

“Go eat a flechette grenade,” I snarled, my statement awarded with another slap to the face. He stomped off.

“What a jerk,” Rainbow Dash said, now sitting on her flank and glaring at the departing soldier. “And you guys knew each other once?”

“Unfortunately, we did.” I said, sitting down on my legs and sighing. “Never in the friendly sense, of course, but it should say a lot about him that neither of us have ever managed to destroy the other. I really don’t want to know what he’s planning if he’s in with E, though. Are you girls still okay?”

“Well they sure didn’t hit any of us, if that’s what you’re asking, but those meanies scared poor Fluttershy! Look, she even cried!” Pinkie exclaimed, moving over to hug the catatonic pegasus. “They wouldn’t even let me hug her until now!”

“You weren’t out for very long, Jackson,” Rarity explained. “They forced us all out here before that, while that brute....” She closed her eyes, facing the glass floor. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

“You don’t have to. You’ll all be fine. I have a plan,” I whispered, glancing sideways at one of the soldiers posted at what remained of the armory door. I couldn’t see past his faceplate. I turned my gaze toward Lilian, who had so far been silent. “Sort of. How far did you get on those VALKs, Lilian?”

“All but Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and Twilight,” she replied instantly, still staring at the floor. “Aran and I also have the coordinates plugged in. Unless you did yours on your own, you don’t.”

“Alright. Were they disabled?”

“I don’t think so. Must’ve slipped their minds,” she muttered. I mentally slapped myself as the nearest soldier perked up, and stepped forward toward me. This one didn’t have a full faceplate, and I could see the sickly green, barbed skin face from behind the breather.

I glared laser beams at him. “I’m Jackson Amber. Don’t even think what you’re about to do isn’t a mistake. I’ve bombed planets for less. Whine to your superior when they get back.”

He stopped, the cylinders in his brain firing at top speed, and looked between the ponies and I. Eventually, he took a few steps back, and stayed still.

Looking back to the girls, I sighed. “Alright then. What’s about to happen is going to be pretty scary, but I promise you, it’ll be fine. Just make sure to hold your breath when I tell you to.”

“Aye aye, captain!” Spike said, saluting. Pinkie followed suit. He lowered his arm, suddenly looking confused. “Er, what exactly is the plan, again?”

“It’s a surprise. Anyways, all your VALKs and whatnot are turned on?” I asked, hastily looking over the group. I could hear the steady thumping footsteps of two people approaching down the hallway.

I received a chorus of nods and silent yes’s, but my heart stopped. Rainbow was still frantically inspecting hers. “Uh,” she muttered after a moment. “Is the light not supposed to be on? Because my screen thingy is totally black.”

“What?” I hissed, groaning in frustration. “Alright, Aran, can you please help her? She-” I stopped myself cold, shuffling on my knees to witness B’wor and Sorlor emerge from the line of soldiers down the hall. They strode with purpose, and I was probably the only person who knew what it was. They always did this. Every single time.

“Well, Jackson,” B’wor said in a smug voice, puffing his chest out. “We have-”

“Did you know that the primanzoa wolf, one of the rarest species of giant wolf in the galaxy, has actually been known to be led by queens instead of alpha male pack leaders?” I took a breath, tilting my head. “Oh, er, wait, am I interrupting? I just thought it was an interesting fact.” I grinned innocently at their surprised stances. They looked at each other, wordless anger burning. I risked a glance over to the door, where I saw exactly what I was hoping for. “Please, continue gloating.”

“I am not gloating,” he huffed. “I am merely informing you, of your inevitable demise, in an honorable fashion. Surely you understand the difference.”

“Oh, well when you put it like that it makes loads more sense,” I replied. Far too much effort was put into forcing my eyes not to roll.

“Thank you. Now, as I was saying: soon you will be-”

“Did you know you’re ugly by not just my species’ standards, but your own?” I said, a wicked grin spreading across my face. This was the part where my heart started beating faster and faster. It threatened to shake my entire body, and the adrenaline was getting ready to course through my body at top speed. My arm tensed.

The look on B’wor’s face would have been priceless, if I could’ve seen it. He recoiled as if I’d punched him. Shock quickly turned into rage, and he strode forward. “How dare you speak to your greater that way. I am a thousand times better, in every single possible way imaginable, than you.”

“Well, there is one difference,” I said, unflinching. “Two, actually. Firstly, I’m not as quick to anger. Secondly, you can’t even count.”

“What?” he asked.

On cue, two armored figures strode out of the armory doorway, the guard posted there long gone. They leveled their weapons, and the taller one grinned. “Sorry I’m late. I wanted a shotgun,” Mercer said, tossing something at me. My hands zipped up to catch it, and my officer’s pistol fell into my grip as if by magnetism.

“Fire!” B’wor screeched, yanking at the sword around his belt. Several things happened at once.

Mercer poured two batteries worth of D-Tech laser weaponry into Sorlor’s face. The last Tower guard fired wildly above our heads into the soldiers guarding us. I grinned sadistically.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” I said to B’wor, who looked at where I was aiming with the blank expression his visor forced him into. I would’ve paid a thousand tungsten coins to see his expression. “Everybody close your eyes!”

I fired once with an echoing retort and flash of plasma, and suddenly a grand array of spider-webbing cracks and crevices appeared underneath us. I pulled the trigger again, smiling. B’wor scrambled to cross the few meters to safety, cape billowing out behind him. Lasers flew overhead. Rarity screamed.

Where there had been solid ground underneath me, there was now open air. Miniscule glass bits plastered against my face and swirled in my weightless hair. The previously muffled sounds of battle suddenly blared: rockets exploded, plasma seared the ground, and soldiers shouted below.

The reasons for calling it “below” were disappearing by the meter. I squinted my eyes into the dreadful fire below, and it turned and grinned.

“Jackson!” Twilight screamed, barreling into me. I caught hold of her, the momentum carrying us in a circle. Spike was glued to her back, wrapping his arms around her side and clenching his eyes shut. The unicorn peeked out at me, the glass having dissipated for the most part. “We’re falling!”

“You think?” I yelled through an explosion far away. “Listen, keep your mouth shut, alright? I don’t want you swallowing any glass.” One hand holding onto her shoulder, I swung us in a circle and reached for Spike. “Listen, kid, let go right now! You can’t be holding onto her when you’re about to hit the ground.”

“We’re going to hit the ground?!” he screamed, hugging tighter.

“No! It’s complicated, but just trust me. I’ve kept you guys safe so far, right?”

“Yes! No? I think?” He opened his eyes a crack, looking from me to Twilight and then the fast-approaching billowing smoke that marked the ground. Cringing, he slowly let go and floated a few inches away.

I gave him the thumbs up. “I need to go make sure Dash has her VALK on. It’s just one button push, and we’ve got... twenty or so seconds. Plenty of time.” Spinning around, I took note of where the other ponies were. Manes billowing out behind them, the initial drop hadn’t done them any good, but at least I couldn’t see any enemy soldiers mingling with them. Farther down, I could see Aran and Lilian, pointed like pencils and racing toward the bottom. Applejack was closest, and I spread my arms to navigate past her.

“Ah hope you know I’m sick and tired of fall’n, Jackson,” she called when I zoomed past, one hoof holding her hat in place. I rolled over to look her in the eye.

“You girls do it often?” I replied, unsure of whether or not she heard me. If she didn’t, the next pony, Pinkie, definitely did. The ball of energy somehow managed to spring from her area in space and launch into me, spiraling us both out of control.

“Yup, and it gets more fun every time we do it! The first time was-”

“Kind of busy, Pinkie,” I snapped, wrenching her off of me and holding her out at arm’s length. I glanced over at the others, and I could only just see Rarity and Rainbow Dash a little ways away and below us, with a cowering and wing-locked Fluttershy in between. I yelled, “Rainbow Dash! Rarity! I’m coming over there! Is her thing online?”

“She’s unconscious and won’t wake up!” Rarity screeched, arching her neck to face me. I opened my eyes a scratch more, and it finally dawned on me that Rarity wasn’t just near Dash, she was desperately holding onto her. I looked down. Ten seconds left.

“But is the-”

“Aiiieeee!” she shrieked, pointing toward where we had fallen from. I glanced up, Pinkie following my line of sight, and gulped.

A dark blot, previously unnoticed, now bore a sea of rippling blood behind it, and it was flying straight toward the unconscious pony and her rather useless guardian. Green and black sword pointed forward, B’wor had locked himself as straight as possible. He was going to act like a spear, and even if Rarity would survive, Dash would be quite a bit less fortunate. I wouldn’t be there in time.

I frowned at Pinkie. “Toss me.”

I expected some sort of confusion or maybe a funny face, but possible the last thing I expected was her to agree instantly.

My muscles were slack and I had a retort on my lips, ready to reaffirm my request the moment she protested. The words she said, though, were so foreign to my expectations that it actually took a moment to realize what had just happened.

“Oki-dokie-loki!”

“Wait wha-” I started, interrupted by my change in direction and speed. Mere meters separated my quarry and I. My jacket uniform flapped madly against my torso like a flag on a coffin, and my hair gave up being gelled to my head and tried to escape. We came closer.

There was a veritable sonic boom when we smacked together, or at least there should’ve been. In reality, I slammed into the armored man with a dull and uninspiring thunk. I managed to shove his arms out of the way with my side, his sword twirling off into nowhere, and grabbed onto his shoulder plate with one hand.

My momentum spun us both off-course, and we fell past the unconscious Rainbow Dash and frantic Rarity without much thought. We stabilized in a moment, and I used what little surprise I had left to swing him around to face me.

He wrenched his right arm back to punch me, cape swirling around us. I swatted his arm away, grunting at the pain that coursed through the bandaged part. “You have already failed, Hero!” he screamed.

“I’m Jackson Amber, and I never fail. I just run into setbacks,” I retorted, tearing B’wor’s mask off with my free hand. His fist pummeled my side like a battering ram, and the earthquake it caused in my ribcage rattled me. Nevertheless, I stayed stiff and stared him right in his beady, hate-filled red eyes. “Those little ponies are mine, and if you touch them, I will destroy you. Have a good day.”

Snapping my neck back in one fluid, rage-induced motion, I smashed my forehead against his face; an echoing crack burst through the air around us, and I pushed B’wor’s stunned body away from me with my legs, silently watching him flail closer to the tower’s blurred wall until, without a sound, he was nothing more than a shadow.

I looked down, and what I saw came to me as instinct instead of thought. There was no time for thinking. Three seconds.

“Dash!” I bellowed, stretching my arms out to catch the air. All the VALK needed to be was online. It wouldn’t care if she was unconscious or not. She would be fine.

Wind and smoke obscured my vision for two miniscule measurements of time. On the second, the smallest of sensations passed over my fingertips. It was metallic, and it was a button.

I closed my eyes. Dying never got old.

~=V=~

-MANUAL NUMERICAL CODE ACCEPTED 1-19-8-5-19 20-15
-APPLYING NUMERICAL CODE 1-19-8-5-19
-CHANCE OF SUCCESS HIGH 4-21-19-20 20-15
-
-CODE ENCRYPTION SUCCESSFUL 4-21-19-20

“And that’s why I’m going to make you watch the worlds you swore to protect, burn.”

“I....”

“I win.”

“B-”

“You failed.”

“No.”

“Indeed. From what I know of you, you have a spotless record, too. Only a... few of them are a bit odd. Lots of minor setbacks, according to your reports. This will be just another one of them, I presume?”

“I didn’t fail.”

“Lots of people are still down there, incinerating by the second. They are all minor setbacks to you?”

“I can prove I didn’t.”

~=V=~

The easiest way to describe what has been coined by scientists and engineers as The Valkyrie Effect, is that it’s a lot like when you press your hand up against a cleaner’s vacuum and you feel it sucking your skin, except it’s happening on your insides, everywhere. Air itself displaces around you, drawing in a shadow that takes your shape and marks your escape. You are not destroyed, but you are moved, and with that comes the increasingly nauseating feeling of being in a place you shouldn’t be.

Most people - and ponies slash dragons, from the retching sounds I could hear around me - didn’t take well to the disturbing feeling. It says quite a bit about myself that I was fine; I’d built up an immunity over the years.

Swirling textures, shapes, and colors reformed in my vision when I opened my eyes, and after a few moments the aftershock left me. The dizziness from the built-in inertial dampeners stayed behind, however, and decided it would be a good time for tea.

Someone put a hand on my shoulder and yelled at me. “Captain Amber! We heard you’d left planet with the civs. What the hell happened?”

“Got ambushed in the Towers. Whole place is swamped,” I sputtered, leaning against the closest stable surface. I focused on the helmet-wearing Wingman’s reflective black faceplate, taking in the world around us. The VALK point had been set up on the topmost tier in the courtyard, just beyond the edge of the railing. Flashes of green arced over our head, and staggered at the railing were billowing energy shields, fluctuating each time an errant bolt smacked into it. Each one was manned by a soldier, who would peek out and fire a few shots off into the fray every other second.

Thick smoke blanketed the sky above us, and above that, I knew there would be only more dark clouds. The light was dim with the onset of the evening and shadows of the clouds only made it worse. Sulfur clogged my nostrils, and burned at my eyes, but I was used to it by now.

I turned to look at the ponies, or at least the ones that came with me. Applejack and Twilight shakily stood next to the generator-like VALK point. A moment passed, and they staggered away from the unfavorable mess they’d ejected. They shook their heads, and when I looked into their plate-sized eyes, I could tell they were unfocused.

More importantly, I also saw Rainbow Dash. I called out to her, hustling to kneel down at her prone form. She shifted in response, groaning unintelligibly.

“Rainbow Dash, if you can hear me, say something,” I ordered, quickly placing my hand under her head and lifting it up.

“Bhrg,” she said.

“Good enough,” I replied. I set her head back down and backed off a bit.

“Jackson, Rainbow Dash!” Twilight exclaimed, cantering toward us. Rainbow opened her eyes immediately, focusing on the unicorn. “I’m so glad you two are okay.”

“Y’all had us worried for a moment there,” Applejack added, tailing her friend.

Twilight lunged, scooping up Rainbow in a tight hug. “Gah!” Rainbow yelped, eyes widening to twice their size. Applejack joined in a second later, and the three embraced with silly grins plastered on their faces. “What happened?” she asked as the three pulled away, looking around us in a confused state. “One minute you guys were busting us out, and the next I’m waking up in... where they hay are we?”

“Courtyard, bottom of the towers,” I rattled off, checking over my shoulder. The soldier that had pulled me aside stood at the ready, visor staring blankly at me. “Listen, Miss Dash, are you a hundred percent alright? You blacked out for a little bit, and we’re going to have to get moving pretty soon. It’s not safe here.”

“Well, er, yeah. I’m cool,” Rainbow breathed, flapping her wings to test. She grinned wryly. “Yup. Ready for action, Captain. What do you mean it’s not safe?”

Emphasizing my point, two soldiers came into existence a few feet away. An echoing, airy fizzled sound heralded their arrival, and they both stumbled in place. After a second, they glared at each other.

“You moron, why’d you try to throw a grenade back?” the first scolded, automatically shouldering his grey rifle and letting the heat vent eject some steam.

The second one shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t know it would stick to my hand, okay? Now hurry up, let’s get moving before they take that position,” he retorted, and the two jogged off toward the down ramp.

I looked back to the girls, who seemed to have just noticed they were in the middle of a warzone. A bullet splashed against the wall above our heads, leaving a scorch mark among hundreds. They looked back to me, their jaws slack.

“Oh dear, this isn’t good,” Twilight muttered anxiously, the three already edging closer to me.

“Right. Huge, epic battle going on,” Rainbow said, arching her back and stretching her legs out. “What’s the plan, Jackson? Now that we’ve got these VALK things on, we can’t be, uh, killed, right?”

“Not killed, but injured quite a bit, yes. If you get hit somewhere that’s not lethal,” I started, glancing awkwardly at the soldier who was still staring at us. I shook my head and gestured out toward the battle. “Like, for instance, a shot glances your wing, and your VALK won't activate unless the wound would be fatal. Get what I’m getting?”

“Ooohh...” she trailed off, a look of comprehension crossing her face. “That would be bad.”

“Really bad,” I muttered, finally turning to the silent watcher. “Excuse me, is there a problem? You kind of have a job to do.”

“Err, sorry, sir. Just never seen talking horse thingies before,” he replied, giving a crisp salute. “I’ll be on my way unless you need help escorting the civs, sir.”

“Nothing you need to.... Actually, there is. Do you know if the trams to the shipyards and docks are still working?” I asked, narrowing my eyebrows. A burst of blue plasma fire sailed far over our heads and into the smoke above, and the ponies instinctively flinched.

“Ah, those. Last I checked, they’d managed to sabotage the one in the back, since they’ve surrounded the Towers, but the one near the front entrance is in workable condition, unless they’ve blown it up already. Might be a slight problem with that, though, sir...”

“Let me guess,” I hazarded, crossing my arms. “They own the front entrance and have completely locked it down, and there’s absolutely no way we could possibly sneak past and get it for ourselves without being noticed.”

“That’s correct, sir. We’ve been trying to take it back for the last five minutes, so they’ve redirected a lot of soldiers there. I’ve just been assigned to help guard the VALK point.”

I nodded, promptly turning toward the ponies. “Right then, the plan’s simple... or it will be when I think of it. We could probably walk there without much trouble, but it could take hours. Let me...” I trailed off, patting my ear. The soft padded exterior of my headset was nowhere to be found, and I silently swore at myself for not noticing it was gone sooner. “Nevermind. Communications are gone. Follow me, girls,” I said, scratching the back of my head aimlessly.

Turning toward a long expanse of metal flooring curving around the nearest tower’s base and to the back, I walked off at a steady pace. Scrambling to their hooves, the remaining ponies followed after me at a brisk trot, slowing down when they leveled out on either side of me. I managed to keep us far away from the ledge, where singular soldiers would often be leaning behind a piece of cover or an energy shield.

“Wait!” a voice called out behind us, barely audible over the din. We craned our necks in unison to observe the soldier jogging behind us, one finger pressed hard against a button on the side of his helmet, near where his ear would be.

He skidded to a stop behind us, waiting for me to face him. “How many of those horse things should you have with you, again, sir?”

“Ponies,” Twilight corrected. He ignored her.

“Just the three are with me. Four more should be at the docks right now.” I paused, thinking rapidly about what bad news was going to come next. “Why?”

“Because I just heard them talking about one on the comms.” He took his hand off of his helmet, letting it fall down to his side in a rigid position. “Sir, they found one near the base of the second tower, opposite of this one. A few of them are trying to evac it to a safe zone, but they’re facing heavy opposition. Just thought you’d want to know.”

My face paled, and I glanced down to see the others weren’t faring much better. “Did they, er,” I started, swallowing a lump in my throat. “Did they say what this pony looked like.”

“Yellow, sir. Pink hair, sir,” he rattled off, saluting. Bringing his hand down and out, he pointed off into the battle below. “Should be in that direction, sir.”

“Fluttershy,” Twilight whispered in horror, eyes bulging. “Jackson, we need to do something.”

“That poor gal, out there,” Applejack seethed, settling her hat on her head. “If’n y’all don’t figure out something quick, I’m gonna go get her myself.”

“Right. Soldier, what’s your name and rank?”

“Ensign Noah, sir.”

“Ensign, may I commandeer your assault rifle?” I asked, a hint of a grin tugging at the corner of my lip.

“Absolutely, sir,” he replied, immediately tearing the slim body of a rifle I knew from the inside-out off his back. He handed it to me, and I inspected the glowing edges, running my hands along its surface like a long-lost friend. It’d been far too long since I’d gotten to use one of these. “MPB-Three, sir. Never could switch to the upgraded model, sir,” he sounded off when he noticed my inspection of the older KaidenTech model. I grinned deviously, wrapping the strap around my shoulder, gripping the handle, and then I turning to the ponies in a sweeping dramatic spin.

“Don’t worry about Miss Fluttershy, we’re going to get her,” I said, lacing my tone with such finality that the Reaper himself would’ve been proud. “She’s going to be safe. I promised she would be. Rainbow Dash, you wanted to know what the plan was?”

“Uh, totally!” she replied, flying up to my height. “It’s going to be awesome, right? I get to play a part in it, right?”

“Yup, you all do,” I said, nodding at the ensign who had sacrificed his excellent weapon for me. He saluted one last time, then jogged off to his post. “We’re going to go in guns blazing, get Fluttershy, get the tram, and then you girls are going home. It’ll be a piece of cake, I promise. Just follow my lead and keep your heads down.”

“Just a second ago you were ready to walk the whole way there. What changed?” Twilight asked quickly, looking between me and her friends.

I gripped the sleek grey weapon in my hands, winking. “I got a gun,” I said, turning to the ledge. A number of meters away there was a breaking in the railing, signalling the off ramp. A stout soldier crouched near it, peeking the barrel of his gun over the edge, then jerking back from the recoil. I tossed a glance to the ponies. ‘Keep your eyes on me, and keep up.”

“Okay, but I- wait, Jackson!” Twilight called, her words bouncing off my ears and falling to the wayside. I jogged on, the three taking a moment to catch up. Their hooves clapped loudly against the ground, and our party continued on to the battle in a grim, tense silence almost as thick as the smell of sulfur.

“Pardon my asking, but I’ve been getting some real awful mixed signals over here,” Applejack started as we approached the entrance to hell. “But I thought you were against us getting into anything nasty like this here fight.”

“I was, but do you really want to wait here while I go get your best friend, or do you want to be by her side when the cavalry charges in to rescue her?” I replied hastily, swallowing. We walked forward, and the courtyard and entryway to the Towers slowly appeared from behind the ledge, rising up like a graveyard. “Because she’s going to need her friends after being in this middle of this...”

Keeping my gaze steady, I didn’t need to listen to the pinpoint sharp gasps to know their mouths were hanging open. That didn’t stop them from stabbing at my heart and making me swallow at the lump in my throat again. Sometimes, I knew, you had to make a gamble, and right now I was rolling the dice.

The full length of the Towers’ courtyard, from the highest tier to the city entrance itself was laid out at around a hundred meters. The courtyard’s metal ground stopped around halfway, giving way to soft grass and only interrupted by a wide road connecting the highway and the Towers.

Arced over the ground and leaving a black shadow underneath it, towering over the roadway and standing as the only separation between the Towers and the rest of the city, was a grand metallic archway, and on one side, rambling off into a tunnel, was a pair of tram cars.

Barely any of it was visible amidst the flying neon colors, scorch marks, and rubble. Twisted and smoldering remains of metal ships, so blackened and destroyed that they were no longer identifiable, scattered across the once cheerful grass. Melted lines streaked over the courtyard grounds, smattered with smaller tufts of debris.

Grey crates and machinery had toppled and splattered across the grounds, and where there wasn’t a portable energy shield, someone had dragged a crate over for cover.

And it was filled to the brim with soldiers and swords; bullets and blades that clashed against one another in a symphony of violence and desperation. Explosions as percussion, smattering against the sky in great bouts of flak. Hoarse, bellowed orders merged into one chorus with one voice. Each slide of one sword against another coalesced into a grand orchestra of strings, and the soldiers twirled with them, performing a sacred dance we had studied and practiced for generations.

“This isn’t at all like the changeling invasion,” Twilight whispered. I could only just hear it above the roar of an overhead fighter.

“And Fluttershy’s in that?” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, holding her front hooves out in disbelief. “What are we sitting here for, then? Let’s go!”

“You’re right. Follow me, and keep your eyes on me, not them,” I barked, smoothly stepping down the long ramp. The second tier down wasn’t as well defended as the third, but here and there a soldier would stare at me with either a blank visor or expressions of awe, which I’d like to think were also behind the visors.

Every other second, two or three bolts of green would smash into the wall above us, and the ponies would rush behind the nearest piece of cover, whether it be solid metal railing lined with metal plates, or an activated, pulsating blue field of energy. Whenever they did, a soldier would always gladly step out of the way for them, and by the time we’d reached the ending platform, five of them had lined up and saluted, their eyes full of cold-steel respect.

They stood rigid as tombstones, not even glancing at the gawking ponies when we passed. I walked down the ramp, leading the ponies down, and silently listened to the scurrying of feat and passing of hushed words. I knew what they were saying, though. It was going around the comms, and it was likely that by the time we’d gotten to Fluttershy, they’d be serving tea just to impress me.

Jackson Amber had arrived on the field.

“You two, with me,” I ordered, jabbing a finger toward two errant soldiers who were moving around a crate to face the oncoming fire. They snapped off a salute so fast the clink of gloves hitting glass was audible over the gunfire. We were on level with the bulk of the firefight, now, and

“Yessir. Cadets Fen’r and Alco, here. What do you need us to do?” one of them asked in a feminine voice, gripping her rifle tightly. The other one stood silently next to her, visor pointed toward the girls.

I waved at the ponies next to me, who grinned innocently at my chosen guards. “Cover them while they follow me, and their safety is considered prioritized above your own, understood?”

“Understood,” they both said at once, readying their weapons.

“I assume you’re looking for the other horse thing they found near the west side, Captain Amber?” the previously silent one spoke up, surprising me with a light, airy male voice. The kind that sounded it belonged in a library rather than a warzone.

“Correct. Do you have her ex- down, now!” I jerked under the lip of the crate, reaching out to yank Twilight behind the crates. She yelped in surprise, ears flattening as several streaks of green flew overhead, splashing uselessly against one of the shields. “Exact location?” I finished from my low position.

The second soldier nodded, both of them following my lead and crouching below the deep grey crate. Around us, more soldiers had done the same, and the clusters of improvised cover only increased the closer to the ground level ramp they were. The ramp itself was blocked by a battered, scorched tank.

Tanks had little to no use in the Wing, up to this point. Older models were constantly used if a situation called for one, but largely, it had been years since they had any major usage. I stared at the crippled form blankly, the front end mangled and melted, the rest colored black from all of the incoming fire. The sleek rectangular barrel half-heartedly pointed in the vague direction of the enemy, pointed limply down.

A hatch had been torn out of the rear end of the turret’s head, wires trailing down to a pair of soldiers, one without a helmet. They had huddled around something, hands moving furiously about a device so cluttered with wires I couldn’t even pretend to know what it was for.

“Alright. We’ve got to go down that last ramp to the field, then I’m counting on you to point me in the direction you heard they found her, cadet,” I said, jabbing my gun in the direction of the nullified tank. More shots flew overhead, one smashing into the crate and jolting us back.

“West side, sir, near the bottom of the tower. Probably some rubble in the way, but it’s a straight shot at the moment. Could get hairy if they try to assault it,” the female said quickly, peeking over the crate for a moment. “On your command, sir.”

“Right, girls?” I asked, looking the three square in the face.

“Yeah, Jackson?” Twilight asked, her ears flattened. “Are we really going to have to go out there?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be protecting you. But first, we’re going to rush over to that thing over there, okay?” I said, waving my weapon in the direction of the tank.

“Got it,” Applejack replied, grinning hopefully. “We’ll be right behind ‘ya, Captain.”

“Right. On my mark,” I muttered, leaning on my right leg with my arm. Lightning pain struck where it was bandaged, and unlike last time, it lingered like a kick to the head. I swiveled my head around, getting a good look at the best path, and lunged into a sprint.

If the sounds of battle weren’t already loud, they became like deafening hammer-blows to the ears nearer to the final ramp. It was a short drop; only a foot laid between the metal ground and the grass - or at least what was left of the grass. The only green that had survived did so in patches scattered near the edges of the field, where the lines of green and blue streaked across only every other minute.

We skidded to a stop behind the tank, a hail of fire pattering against the other end like perturbed raindrops. I looked down to the two busy soldiers, opening my mouth to ask what in the blazes they were trying to do.

“Ensign Pidd, sir. Trying to rig the targeting,” the helmeted one said, glancing up from the pile of wires and electronics. “It’s still got some juice in it, but the controls are fried from the inside. We get this working and we’ve got some real artillery on our side.”

“Where’s your air support?” I asked instead, drawing my eyes to the sky. It was impossible to tell what was up there, between the smoke and the dark clouds, but I imagined I could vaguely see wisps of black and grey dancing across the sky, firing at each other.

“Busy trying to take theirs out, I think,” the cadet on his left said. “Anyways. We’ll have this up in a mome-...” he paused, tilting his head at me. “Are you Captain Amber? I-I’d heard you were on the field but-”

“Save it,” I growled, peeking around the less-destroyed part of the tank. The western field, or left from where we were facing, was coated with enemies, and all along the sides and arced out like spiderwebs were more piles of makeshift cover. Soldiers, grey and black alike fired from them.

It wasn’t hard to spot where Fluttershy was.

What looked to be at least eight or ten Wing soldiers had formed a ring near the base of the second tower, the inner ranks standing stock still with their rifles poised while the outer had drawn their swords for battle. Those unable to join in the circle had hidden about the area, kneeling behind crates or obliterated debris and constantly taking potshots at the relentless black-clad soldiers.

Around them, shifting in the battle like a sea of ants, were E’s men. They blanketed the ground in waning numbers clashing against the few forces that had dug in. Dark green broadswords jabbed and hacked, countered only by the Wingmen who danced around them with ease.

“Objective spotted. Girls, get ready to run as fast as you can. If you see green coming your way, you drop to the ground and don’t do anything until we’ve handled it, alright?” I stretched my shoulders back, then peered into the hologram sights. Spaced out amongst the flat blue hologram, surrounding the blue reticle, were constantly moving, transparent red dots. Each one had been overlaid where an enemy had been marked.

These kinds of hologram sights hadn’t even come out when the gun had been produced. I made a mental note not to lose the thing.

“We’re ready, Jackson,” Twilight said, nodding.

As one, we ran. Blood pumped into my head, mixing with adrenaline and rushing through my body like a warm shower against my skin. Wind rushed into my ears, but I didn’t hear it. Sound faded and images blurred. The world faded from my waking mind and I entered a dreamstate filled only with instinct.

Instinct is what you act on when there’s no time to think, often misinterpreted as a different form of thinking altogether. If you have ever been intoxicated, then you know exactly the opposite feeling of what that instinct is, while the rest of your life is lived in someplace between the two. Reality becomes more real; shapes, colors, and sounds are not perceived. They just are. You lose the ability to make moral or complicated decisions in favor of the ones that immediately grant you what you need, and not what you want.

It’s a feeling I thrived on.

The girls caught up to me within the first few seconds, the six in our group bull-rushing the battlefield at an angle. We were brightly colored targets in the gloom of the storm, and our entrance to hell didn’t go unnoticed. A hailstorm of green flames descended upon our forms, crashing in waves against what cover we put between ourselves and them.

Allies rose from the ashen grey debris, countering with their own flood of blue bursts and red beams. I could feel them stealing glances at me, trying to protect a protector. In front of us, amidst gleaming swords and lightning flashes of green, blue, and red, was our destination. All I had to do was clear a path.

“Fire at will!” I bellowed, the cadets on either side of our group stabilizing their rifles and spraying in the general direction of the enemy. The blaring sound tore at my ears, and a quick glance to my sides filled me with jealousy. I’d give my left arm to be able to fold my ears back like that.

I raised my gun to my shoulder, ignoring the flashing red dots within the hologram. If the whining, crackling sound of the other weaponry hurt my ears, then they burst at the destructive sound of the weapon I carried.

It kicked back into my arms at lightspeed, hungrily eating up valuable energy and pain tolerance just keeping the barrel pointing in the correct direction. Lightning energy arced out from the tip of the gun, swirling in the triangular multiplier responsible for giving the kick.

Five soldiers disintegrated in front of us, not even knowing we were there. Two more managed to turn around, and horror considered appearing on their faces moments before their demise.

The MPB-Three didn’t do the same damage as my heavy officer’s pistol, which sat comfortably in my belt holster, but it felt like shooting a freight train out of my arm and acted just the same.

We came closer and closer to the circle of Wingmen, stragglers turning into the organized force I’d been expecting. There were only a few meters between us and the first part of the circle, and it was here our enemies were ready.

I swung the blaster, smashing the stock into the nearest soldier like a battering ram. An errant sword swung over my head, grazing the tops of my hair. The man responsible snarled in rage from behind his breather. The brutish green blade swiveled in the air, coming at me vertically.

It caught on the side of my gun, bouncing off without so much as a dent. Blue energy crackled around the barrel, and I could feel the overcharged shot building up like a hyperactive child trapped inside a crib. Shoving the sword off to the side, I leveled it at him.

“Don’t take a sword to a gunfight,” I hissed, firing a beam thick as my arm into his chest. The gun flew back in an admirable attempt to take my arm off, and I felt the trigger lock up. Largely, the problem with guns was that they needed reloading at the worst possible times. Like when you’re in the middle of a fight with no cover.

That’s why the sidearm was invented. I let the blaster fall to my side, dangling by the shoulder strap, and yanked the bulky officer’s pistol out of its holster. I could feel the ponies huddled close behind me, our sprint now reduced to a treacherous crawl through the battlefield. Each cadet had taken up places on either side, surrounding the girls from all but the back, and woe is the man who offers his backside to the enemy. So we just made sure to shoot anything that wasn’t us.

I reached my arm out and pulled the trigger twice, one bullet tracing through a VALK shadow and smashing against another soldier’s shields. The other missed his head by an inch, whizzing off into the dark sky and probably destroying some poor bloke’s window.

There were only a few soldiers between us and the protective circle, and they were all engaged in a dance of swords with the outermost Wingmen. I swiveled around, taking one out in a burst of blue plasma, then aimed for the one directly in front of me.

It was the last moment I expected to be tackled. Turning into wet soap, my gun was launched out of my hand, and the brutish soldier that had targeted me from the side brought us both to the ground. He wasted no time in landing on top of me, metal elbow plates jabbing into my stomach.

“Jackson!” Twilight screamed, the three cantering closer to provide assistance. Hissing sounds being the only thing capable of coming from my mouth, I held up my right hand to stop them. Meanwhile, my left grappled with the soldier’s faceplate, desperate to latch onto anything that looked like a release button.

He swatted my arm away, and I quickly moved both hands to his chestplate, pushing him up and off of me. Rolling to the side, both of us worked our way to our feet. I could still hear the rabid fizzling of the useless blaster hanging behind me, and I had no idea where the pistol had gone. I wearily glanced beside me, studying the two cadets. Both of them had switched to their katana-like swords, parrying and striking with strained motions.

Something clicked in my memory. Maybe it was looking at the swords flashing in the dim light of battle, or the panicked searching for a solution made worse by the ponies standing beside me, fear flashing across their face. Either way, it didn’t matter, because I had a sword in my pocket.

I pulled it out, moving it about in my right hand and feeling the grip like one would the hand of an old friend. Settling my glare at the other soldier, I set my face into a grim expression, and nodded. “Duel,” I said simply, holding my blade out.

He nodded back, one hand reaching up to his faceplate, and the other to his back to unsheath his own sword. Black glass slid to the side, providing a thin window into the man’s helmet. His face, green and barbed with sickly colored spikes, could be considered handsome on any other species, and his eyes shown with a fierce intelligence. It was like looking into the departing engines of a battlecruiser.

“Duel,” he confirmed, gripping his sword with both hands. I took the moment of peace to study his armor closely, looking for any sort of screen that marked where his VALK would be. Every faction tended to put it in different places, but they had to be easily accessible by the wearer. Mine was obvious, but the datapad on my other arm looked similar to it in every way. His eyes bounced between the two uneasily, giving me more time to observe.

On his right thigh, almost hidden by the armor, I could see a hint of a covered screen behind a removable panel, and wires that trailed up to his back, where I could imagine the rough outline of the rest of the device. It had lasted only five seconds, but I’d figured him out first. That meant I made my move.

I jerked forward, feigning a slash and bringing my sword in close to parry a panicked attack I knew would come. Halfway through, I could see the plates in his black armor shift to compensate for his impromptu strike, silently betraying him in a way he’d never notice.

Jarring pain swept through my arms, our swords colliding with the force of dynamite and bouncing back. I clenched my teeth, swinging again, only to be met with an expert parry. Instead of letting him counter, I attacked again. And again. Each time my sword would’ve hit him, had his own blade not been in the way. Then, it was his turn.

The art of the blade is just that: an artform. You learn it, or you die, and after you learn it, you practice for months on end to make sure you’re at the top of your game. I observed his reactions, timing them against my own and searching for any window to peek inside of, where I would record any information with a camera and notepad, and then proceed to end him. Where I struck, he was waiting, and every time he swung, it felt like I was only just able to block it in time. Suffice to say, he was on top of his game.

I wasn’t.

The fighting had, at the very least, begun to die off, and only a few stragglers remained to harass the circle. None of my comrades focused on our duel, and those who did respectfully stayed back. There was an unwritten code of honor for duels, and one of them was that you didn’t let your ally shoot your opponent in the back, no matter how tempting. It was a stupid rule, to be honest, but I didn’t exactly have a gun I could whip out in time to off him.

“You can do it, Jackson! Show ‘em who’s boss!” Rainbow shouted from what constituted as the sidelines. The words filtered through my brain and landed in the pit overflowing with the rest of my pride, some of the bits dripping off into the other sections. Like competency.

“Technically, he isn’t my subordinate,” I called back, ducking under a vertical slash that desperately tried to snag a few stray hairs as a souvenir. “Maybe in rank comparison, but I’m not about to order him to back off. What rank are you, even?”

“Pilot, second mark,” he rasped conversationally, leaping back to dodge my counter. I took a step in the opposite direction, taking a deep breath and nodding knowingly. His shoulders bobbed up and down, wheezing breaths hissing out of the breather in his helmet.

“Ah, well, captain, here. Ex-admiral and advanced admiral, third-in-command at one point,” I rattled off, taking my own gasping breaths and tensing my muscles. Pain still flared in my arms, but it went away with my attention. He did the same, holding his sword out.

“Your reputation precedes you, Amber.” He struck out, contacting my blade inches from my face, the vibration ringing like a bell and jarring my arms like electricity. We both drew back, and the cycle of strike-strike-parry began anew.

“I’m that good at sword-fighting that I have a reputation now?” I joked, the beat of my heart synchronizing with the rhythm of his strikes and dodges. I let my eyes disconnect from his armor and blade for just long enough to look into his hyper-intelligent, orange eyes. I could swear they flickered in joy, but before I could register the emotion of worry, he struck.

“No, you fall into patterns often,” he said, moving like lightning. A force like a gale crashed into my arm, wrenching the sword from my grip and sending it away in the direction of my pistol - which was anywhere and nowhere I knew.

“Oh,” I said dumbly, glancing down at my hands like they’d suddenly turned into hooves. The ponies gasped behind me. “Sodding hell, that was a good one. Best two out of three?”

Another blink of the eye, and his broadsword was at my throat, hovering gently only a millimeter from my flesh. His eyes darted from each of my arms, which I cautiously raised outward, palms open in surrender. “Sorry, but I won’t take that chance.”

“Jackson...” Twilight whispered behind me. I looked down, resting my chin on the flat of the sword. She had stepped forward, standing beside me on quivering legs and looking into my eyes with fear. Looking between the other soldier and I, she opened her mouth to speak. I did first.

“Everything is going to be just fine, Twilight,” I muttered, looking back into the storm-cloud eyes of the duel winner. “Always remember that when you’re uncertain about something.”

Two things happened at once. Having studied the nearly identical devices on my arm for a long enough time to figure out which one would get me killed faster, the pilot lashed out, swiping his green blade to my left.

Secondly, someone shouted at me, “Amber, catch!”

I caught. Instinct burst through the doorway and kicked everything else out, taking the wheel of my body and spinning it around before I felt the sword in my grip, fumbled and caught backwards during the twirl. Twilight had to leap out of the way, passing my legs by a hair.

Blade hit blade, mine winning over his and tossing it off to the side. I jabbed at his thigh blindly, grim satisfaction falling upon my expression in place of a smile. The electrical discharge was palpable, and, when I readjusted the sword into its proper grip and plunged it into the pilot’s chest within a second, it seemed to course through us. The black blade I held slipped through the plates in his armor and out the back like butter.

Unlike all of the others, he didn’t disappear, leaving only a shadow to show he had ever been there in the first place. It was a difference that cost him his life.

“Name,” I ordered bluntly, using my free hand to grab his back. Sputtering behind the breather, the black-clad soldier’s legs steadily morphed into limp, useless appendages. Sounds morphed into the background; the thumps of gunfire mixing together to create a haunting waltz reeking of death and sulfur. I kneeled down with him. Somebody ushered the girls away - the coast was clear, and the circle had disbanded to form a protective line. I could still feel eyes on me from every angle.

I could see the clouded fire reflected in the man’s eyes fading, both of his hands using what instinct his brain could still use to grip the blade jutting from his chest. Blood redder than my own splattered against the plastic inside of the breather that enclosed his lips. He muttered, like a practiced drill, “Dirk... Wade. Fifty... third squadron.... Pilot... mark...”

“Good fight, Dirk,” I droned, purposefully removing any sense of emotion, slowly removing the sword from him with a drawn-out slurping sound. “Should’ve taken my offer, though.”

The clouds stayed; the burning fire that gave his eyes their yellow and orange coloring seemed to slow to a desperate last crawl. The pits of darkness they surrounded focusing and unfocusing on the dark sky behind me, until it was clear they wouldn’t be focusing on anything after this.

“Had me worried there for a moment,” a jovial voice called behind me. The juxtaposition of it all crushed my head and heart in its grip, sending me to a place between consciousness and a dream for the briefest of seconds. I let Dirk’s helmeted head fall to the ground with the most unceremonious thunk the universe could conjure up.

I said nothing. The long shadow, faded in the gloom, of the closest thing I had to a best friend fell over me, and I wordlessly stood up.

“Oh,” Aaro said, all of the joy dropping out of his voice like a lead weight. “You never seemed one to mourn over an enemy, Amber.”

“I’m not.” I juggled the pure-black blade in my hand, eyeing the faded white and red streaks that coiled themselves along the blade like snakes. Red gems gorged into the hilt and grip pulsated with an unknown source of energy. If anything, I’d always thought, the draxians certainly knew how to make an expensive looking sword.

“Right. War’s war, and all. You should- ah, thank you kindly.” He paused just long enough to wipe the flat of the shortsword along his left arm, a smattering of blood collecting on his uniform, then sheath it, completing the dual set he wore on either thigh. “It’s what we do, and stuff, and sitting in the middle of a battle offering a prayer to the soldier you just killed definitely isn’t in your character, heh.”

“No, no,” I said, waving him off. “I just... killed him in front of the girls. War might be war for us, but for them, I don’t...” I trailed off, swallowing at the lump in my throat that refused to go away. I turned around, ignoring the scattered gunfire that flew over our heads.

A pile of scorched metal crates and an empty shell of a truck was all that stood between the girls and the rest of the universe. Two or three Wing soldiers, scarred and barely standing, knelt on either side, firing off into the smoggy distance. It rank of promises of protection fueled by ego, but I wasn’t finished yet.

“Fluttershy, are you okay? Did they hurt you?” Twilight asked, hugging the shivering form of her friend close. “We were so worried.”

None of them looked at me. Maybe I was lucky. Perhaps there had been a collision of fate and luck, forcing the ponies to shove off the shock of death at least for a few moments to comfort their friend. A million masks I could chose flooded my mind almost instinctually - although something in the back of it timidly muttered that things might work out better if I stopped running on instinct.

“I-I tried to fall b-but the ground was so close and, and my w-wings opened,” the pegasus blubbered, the rest of her words muffled by the group-hug that had been silently and unanimously voted on by the other three.

“It’s okay. I’m sure it was scary, Fluttershy, but you know we’d never abandon you. And you’re safe, and we’re safe, and we’re here...” Twilight rambled on, holding onto her friends like a cliff face.

I sighed, looking back to Aaro. “I’ll deal with it. My headset got lost after the ambush up in the armory. Two VALK-casualties on our side, at least, before we sort of fell. Long story.”

“I can tell.” We let our shoulders droop simultaneously, taking slow steps toward the cover and watching the far-off enemies disappear behind the crates. “But we’ll have plenty of time later, I guess.”

“Yeah. Like I was saying, my comms are gone. What’s been happening?” I asked, frowning at the ragtag group of survivors we had with us. The majority didn’t even have helmets, broken and discarded ones laid across the ground like fallen ornaments.

“Whole place nearly got VALKed in the first run. After that, the Council scattered over the city to control as many groups as possible. Uske in the sky, Clover going off to oversee everything from some bunker. I think Grezz and Zal went out to the shipyards to get a few of our docked ships into orbit.”

“What’s the overall plan, then?” I asked, eyes gazing over the skyline, or at least the parts that weren’t smouldering and shrouded in smoke. The downed GOD cannon, once a proud bastion of might and power, stood out amongst them. A fear sat in my chest telling me that others the city over were seeing the same thing.

The red-skinned draxian nodded in the direction I was facing, his lips pursed tight. “I was left to push forward and retake the area surrounding the Towers. Uske’s doing his best to shoot up the fighters and dropships that managed to slip through, now that most of our anti-air is, er, well, torn into tiny pieces. Ganymede is rallying what militia the city can spare to lead an assault on two of the GOD cannons. Apparently they were both hijacked, but the good news is that they’re too stupid to hack into the targeting systems for now.”

“And the situation in orbit?” I asked tentatively, looking up into the dark clouds hanging above the city. “It sounded pretty bad when it started.”

“A couple frigates got dusted in the first few minutes - everyone on them VALKed back to the Aegis. Other than that, I think a cruiser and a destroyer went down after the line broke. It’s a siege, not a battle, up there.” He groaned, rubbing his temples. “But it’s a siege we’re going to lose. Reinforcements can’t break through the shield. As soon as we get the GOD cannons online, we can dust the ship powering it.”

“Well that’s nice and all, and you’ll have to do that if the Homebound has any chance of getting out of this mess. I’ve still got to get them to that.” I spun around, waving a hand in the direction of the tram station. I could faintly see it hiding amongst the clouds and debris. “And that means we’ve got to take the tram station.”

Aaro followed my gaze, furrowing his brow in concentration. “Why don’t you just VALK them all there?”

“That’d work if I had the exact coordinates,” I snapped, grimacing. “I wasn’t given a lot of time to memorize them before we got ambushed by So-, by them. I didn’t put them in my datapad either, before you ask.”

Shutting his mouth, opened to probably ask that same question, the Premier sighed. “Well. I guess I can do what I can to get us to that tram station, but we don’t have any artillery, San’s busy playing golf in the clouds, and...” he subtly nodded his head at the beaten up crew left to man the debris we called a defense. “These guys aren’t in good shape, to be honest. It took a lot out of them to suddenly move up just to defend a fuzzy yellow alien.”

“Artillery?” I said, a sly grin tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Why don’t you ask for an Ensign, um, Pidds, or something, over the comms. Work something out with him. Tell me when you’re ready to make the charge.”

He shrugged, stepping back to offer some space. “You better have got something good, because otherwise that charge won’t ever happen. Go do your thing and try not to explode. Oh, hey, and I found this.” He grinned, winking. A moment later, a recognizable firearm flew through the air, followed by a small cylindrical device.

I caught them with either hand, and in a swift motion had stuck one in its holster and the other in my pocket. “Yeah, you too,” I said softly, taking a deep breath and staring at my boots. In the calm before the storm, the only thing I could do was think about the pain in my arms and the stress I was about to go through in explaining myself to the girls. There wasn’t any amount of preparing I could do, I thought, and the pit in my stomach agreed.

When in doubt, they said, Wing it.

I opened my mouth to speak, the words stopping just short of my vocal cords. Fluttershy, Twilight, Rainbow, and Applejack had at last removed themselves from each other’s grips, and if tears had been shed, then they’d long dried. Instead I got a kick to the gut from guilt; having to look into the red-circled eyes of a pony is the worst thing. Period.

“Twilight, girls, I-” was all I managed to get out when I kneeled down in front of them, expression solid as a rock.

“You said nobody got hurt,” Twilight said, gulping. “That people didn’t die in your wars.”

“He would’ve done the same to me,” I blurted out. I blinked stupidly for a moment, then looked at the ground in what I hoped looked like shame. “I know what I said, and I still stand by it. He went for my VALK, so I went for his. I can’t justify ending a life, but...”

“But what? You just said it yourself: you can’t justify it,” Rainbow butted in, rage filling her eyes and pouring out. “How could any of you end another life, even if they’re evil, and then act like nothing happened so easily?”

I stared for a moment, my mouth working up and down like a dying fish. In the distance, the sounds of battle intensified as if they were trying to speak for me. Even it could’ve been more diplomatic than I was. I took a breath and tried to answer anyways.

“Because he has to,” Fluttershy muttered from the back of the group, the only one of them not to be staring red-hot daggers into me. “It’s what he said he’d do to protect us.”

“F-Fluttershy, you seriously can’t be saying killing another living creature is cool,” Rainbow sputtered, eyes bulging. “That’s totally unlike you!”

She closed her eyes, taking a calming breath I could barely hear over the sounds of battle. “It’s like a mommy bear protecting cubs. Death in nature happens all the time, and it isn’t uncommon for... predators... to- to kill other animals. I-I have to fish sometimes to feed the otters in the river....”

“That might make sense in nature with bears and other predators, Fluttershy,” Twilight said, looking between us. “But a sapient creature was just outright murdered by another sapient creature.”

“Momma bear?” Applejack mouthed to herself, brow furrowed at the ground.

“Um... bears are sapient too. Most animals are. They’re just, um, not as sophisticated as ponies,” Fluttershy muttered, looking at the ground.

“That- that’s not the point!” Twilight scrunched her face up in a mixture of confusion and rage,clenching her eyes. She faced away from me, instead trying to find solace in the ground. “The point is that you killed someone.”

“And the point is that I had to.” I reached outward, placing a hand gently on Twilight’s back. She made no move to stop me, but seemed to slump her shoulders even more. “I know you don’t want to think about it, but that soldier worked for one of the cruelest, most disgusting warlords in the galaxy. He would’ve killed me, and then he would’ve... well he might’ve killed you too. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill an unarmed civilian and he’d happily execute a prisoner on the spot. He. Was. Evil.” I sighed, drooping my head and letting my hand fall down. “I don’t pretend to like killing, but sometimes it’s what I have to do to fulfill the promise I made to protect. Sometimes the only way you can bring justice is through might.”

I stood up, dusting some of the soot off of my knees with one hand. “For what it’s worth. I’m sorry I had to do it. Death is something you shouldn’t have to deal with.”

“I... I’m sorry you had to do it too, Jackson.” Rainbow rubbed a hoof behind her head in shame, ruffling her wings. “I-I guess it’s something you have to do a lot of, right? I mean, you’re like the Royal Guard back in Equestria.”

“Thanks. I think. Didn’t those guys get completely wiped out by the, uh, changeling invasion you mentioned?” I asked, raising an eyebrow and letting the corners of my mouth tug upwards in a smirk.

“Oh. Um... right. Then I guess I hope you’re not like them. Because you’re kind of getting invaded right now.”

“And you folks getting wiped out would probably be pretty bad for us,” Applejack added, nodding sagely. “Anyhow, what’s the plan, captain?”

“My brother happened to be Captain of the Royal Guard at the time,” Twilight interrupted, turning sharply. She glared at her friends. “And he’s the one who oversaw their training!”

“So you’re brother is responsible for the guards getting completely wiped out? What?” I asked, taken aback. I put my hands on my hips and pursed my lips off to the side. “Are they really that poorly trained?”

“It wasn’t his fault! He was brainwashed by the changeling queen when the invasion started.”

“So what? It wasn’t like he started training them after being brainwashed, right?” Rainbow pestered, a smug grin resting on her face. Twilight snorted in indignation, preparing for a lecture to spew from her lips.

“About that plan,” I started, my tone weaker than I’d intended.

“Girls.” Applejack stomped her hoof into the ground, particles of soot and burnt grass puffing up and staining her fur all the way up to her barrel. The datapad wrapped around her foreleg fared no better, the dim blue screen blurred and dirtied. The heads snapped to attention, eyes drawn toward Applejack’s leg. Whatever they saw in it, their trance was shattered like dropped glass. Finally their ears tilted at the sound of raining gunfire, and they warily looked toward the sky for a moment.

“Never forget where you are,” I ordered bluntly, gathering their attention. “The plan, girls, is for you to follow me and keep out of trouble. A ways ahead there’s a tram that can take us to the ship. By the time we’re inside, the Wing will have full defensive capability up and running, and we’ll be blasting down the shield keeping us locked in. After that happens, all we need to do is fly the ship out of range, and we’re home free.”

“And then what?” Twilight asked. “And aren’t the bad guys in that direction.”

“Er, yes,” I said, raising my eyebrows and shrugging. “They might be there for now, but we’ll shoot them until they’re not there anymore. Pretty simple strategy, but it gets the job done. Explosives may or may not be involved.”

I wrapped my arm behind my back, procuring the until-then forgotten MPB-Three faithfully strapped around my neck. I held it sideways for a moment, staring at the side-display. It was green across the board - or blue, in this case, but my mind was on what I had to say next.

“And then you girls are going home for good.”

Twilight’s eyes widened, quickly followed by similar reactions from the rest of her friends. Rainbow scrunched her face up, exclaiming, “Wha-”

“Assaaauuult! Incoming forward line, twenty and counting! Prepare to return fire on my mark.” a voice bellowed next to us. The battle-scarred Wingmen moved at once, sticking their weaponry out of cover and taking gulping breaths of the polluted air. Lightning struck above us, the sky crackling with violent energy.

“Thirty and counting. Fire at will!”

I ducked down just as the hail of green plasma bolted over the cover, smashing into the Towers behind us at sickening speeds. The cadets I commandeered to guard the ponies followed my lead, firing their assault rifles blindly over the crates. “Sir, there’s too many of them,” the female said. “We won’t be able to push through with just three people. We’d need a whole platoon just to take the place, let alone hold it.”

“Luckily for you guys,” I said, shifting my gun into a more comfortable position. “We happen to be sitting in the middle of a platoon, and I’ve got an Admiral who owes me one.”

“You mean the ‘one’ I paid back with that mission on Feros Tyr?” Aaro said from behind me, stepping to my side in a low crouch. “Because that giant wolf thing was going to eat you, and I totally killed it before it did.”

“Technically, it did eat me, and I was the one that had to gorge myself out of its stomach with a broken vibro-blade,” I grumbled, looking away.

Fluttershy’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, Applejack managing to catch her before she hit the ground.

Aaro raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, you got me. What’s your plan?”

“We charge, head on, and we don’t turn back until everything up until the highway is ours. Girls stay back here, and when it’s clear, they’ll advance. We take the tram to our ship, and bippity bop, we’re out of here and you’ve got some free air-artillery support.”

He blinked, the words smacking him in the face and refusing to go into his ears. His mouth opened once, then shut, before he figured out how to speak again. “Into that? Everyone would get destroyed in the first wave, and then they’d be able to take this forward position by the time we’d come back from the VALK point. We’d need air support if we wanted to do it.”

“Or artillery, and it just so happens we’ve got a tank.” I smirked.

Shaking his head slowly, he slightly nodded back in the direction of the desolate tank. The light panels along its sides glowed, at least, but the turret showed no signs of movement. “They’ve got it working, and theoretically it can aim with a bit of help, but...”

“Could I help?” Twilight asked, stepped next to me and smiling curiously. “I happen to know quite a few spells that do all sorts of tricks.”

“No,” we said in unison, glaring at her. I continued, “I’m sorry, Twilight, but as soon as you girls show active participation in this fight rather than just observing as a civilian, things might get bad. They’ll treat you as the enemy, and a high-priority one if you use psy- er, magic.”

“There wouldn’t be much you could do. Amber?” He smirked.

“Castlor?” I raised an eyebrow.

“If we charge, with the artillery, and don’t make it, I’m painting your shipyards pink.”

“And if we do make it intact, you paint your arm pink.”

“Deal,” I said, shaking the whirring mechanical hand with a smirk plastered on my face.

“Just... one last problem,” he said slowly, wiping the grin off my face. “If we do manage to clear it, by then, we’d only have a little bit of time to do anything before the VALKed troops charge us again, and it won’t be enough time for these ponies to cross the distance between here and the tram. If we’re going to charge, they need to come with - out of the way and near the back, maybe, but it’s-”

“No. There’s no way I’m letting them run with an infantry charge,” I snapped, scowling. “I’ve already forced them to run through the remnants of a battle, and that was as close as I want to cut it. I’m not putting them in any more danger.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “If you want them to get to the tram before the counter-attack, they need to be accompanying the charge. There’s no other way to do it that I can think of right now. We’ve got the tank, they can stay near the back, and if it goes badly their VALKs should be recharged. I’m not going to argue it, so consider it an order.”

“I...” I hissed, choking back my next set of choice words and looking forlornly at the ground. “Yes, sir. I’ll keep them near the back.”

“I’m sorry, but they need to get out of here, and if you’re right, the tram is the best bet.” Aaro matched the look, standing up and shouldering the purple and deep-grey assault rifle that stood as the signature DragonTech design. More specifically, it looked ugly.

“And you can add my pistol into the list of perks, right above the artillery. I’ll be sure to stick with you guys, though, just to make sure everything in front of us doesn’t last too long.”

“Just... go get the others prepped for the attack,” I said darkly, casually prodding the draxian in the shoulder. He chuckled, slinking off and muttering into his headset. More than once I could see a soldier stare at him oddly, hastily muttering to a comrade after.

“Right. Erm. First, is Fluttershy okay?” I asked, waddling sideways to face the ponies.

“Ain’t a thing. I reckon we’re ready to go when you are, Captain.” Applejack adjusted her hat, smiling to the friends surrounding her. Fluttershy wobbled on her hooves, nonetheless managing to stand. Green had tinted her cheeks, though. “It’s fine, ‘bout the whole charge thing. Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve run head-first into danger. We’ll be right behind you.”

“And little bit above you, too.” Rainbow puffed out her wings, grinning boastfully. “I’ve really gotta stretch out my wings.”

I glared. “You’re grounded, Rainbow Dash.” Taking a moment to drop my gun to my side, I pointed over at the green bolts flying overhead. “You go up there, and you’ll only be an easier target to hit. As your guardian, I specifically order you to keep those wings to your side unless it’s absolutely necessary to fly.”

Moments ticked by, Dash’s face slowly pulling back from a disgruntled grimace. She nodded, and seeing the gears rumbling in her head, I added, “and ‘necessary’ is up to my discretion, not yours.”

“Fine,” she shot back like a bullet, her wings snapping to her sides at supersonic speeds. “But you owe me.”

I shook my head, glancing over the meager defense, looking for a red face amongst the crowd of black visors. “I don’t see how saving your life means I owe you one,” I muttered offhandedly, “but sure.”

“Second wave. Forty up and charging!” one of the soldiers near us screamed, firing wildly into the gloom with wide eyes. Instant self-preserving actions swept through the ranks, everyone with a gun firing off in bolts of blue and streams of red. I couldn’t see what was beyond

I motioned for the two cadets I had dragged into this mess, and they waddled over on the toes of their boots. “Sir, they’re getting ready to charge on the comms,” the first one barked over the noise that pressed into our skulls. Twilight lowered her head, ears flat.
“I know, and we’re going to join them. I want you two behind the girls here, keep ‘em safe. The Premier and I will be in the front. As for you,” I ordered, looking toward the ponies. “Keep your heads down and follow me. If I VALK out, you run back. And above all, stay safe.”

“Got it, Jackson. Anything to get out of here,” Twilight said, her voice muted by battle. I nodded solemnly.

Aaro crouched next to me, this time not managing to get past my mental defenses - I hated surprises. He still held his bulky, ugly gun, but I could also see he’d opened a thick holster on his left side, right above the second sword sheath. I recognized the round, disfigured shape of the pistol, a small red-colored cylinder attached to it. I had unfortunately seen it in action a few times.

He looked blankly at me, eyes full of determination and a drop of wit. “All men on the A-Seven defense line, prepare to charge. We’ve had a long day so far, and they’ve taken the tram station leading to the shipyards, choking us. It’s time we take it back - and with it, the city. I want you to run and gun and don’t stop until we’re holding the highway.” He puffed his chest out, standing up. I grit my teeth and followed suit. “This is the Wing they’re messing with; so, let’s show them how stupid an idea that is! Charge!”

Our eyes met, and the fires of companionship ignited. I’d stayed a captain, and he’d stayed humble. The burning souls of warriors ran around us, firing into a murky darkness that we knew not what hid within. Months of personalized training entered my mind like a tsunami. We had trained for this.

We ran, the barrels of our guns burning bright with light. An infinite line of black-clad soldiers ran before us, poison-tipped swords glowing in the smoke like fangs.

“That’s a lot of bad guys, Jackson!” Twilight shouted, barely touching my ears. The ponies moved their legs as quick as lightning, scuttling under fire that zipped past us with ease. Large portions of the fire directed at torso-height, and rarely would one plunge into the ground near them.

I ducked under an incoming bolt, a grin slowly sprouting on my lips. “Heck yeah it is,” I called back. I fired my blaster, the gun bucking back into my arm with each shot. The blue bolts slammed into the line of soldiers rushing us, four of them flying straight through shadows, while the others exploded against shields.

“For the Wing!” a man screamed. It rippled throughout the those that had followed us, muffled voices behind black visors bellowing and adding to a cry much louder than the shots of their guns.

I held the trigger down like a cat in a bath, eyes focused on what was coming straight at us. It ripped my arm back, the bandages wrapped around them and the Bio-Mend I had been given earlier not standing in the way of a fresh bout of pain. It pushed up into my head, where the sound of the gunshots was already squeezing and molding grey matter like a battering ram.

The gun hissed, steam ejecting out of one side, and I let it go, swinging the weapon onto my back as I brought out my other two, trusted weapons without a single thought. If battle was the name of the game, then I’d expect my trophy delivered on monday.

Telescoping outward, I pointed my sword forward and readied my pistol. Black, twin blades blurred through the air in Aaro’s hands. Short, incomprehensible gasps of air slipped in and out of the mouths of the ponies Twilight, leading the group, closed her eyes, turning her face away.

“Don’t stop for anything.” The words escaped my mouth as an order, slipping to those nearby, even if it was meant for the girls. “We’ll protect you. We’re born for this.”

Armies collided. Black and grey made blue, green, and red. Individual sounds did not separate and instead coalesced back into the symphony of war. I didn’t need to understand what was around me; it simply was, and I simply did. I joined in the dance of blades, firing the pistol whenever a sword couldn’t do the job.

I ducked under a blade, uppercutting with my own. His sword bounced back and left him open for the split second it took for the tip of my weapon to pass through his shadow. The one behind him parried my sword away, only to meet the dangerous end of my pistol.

It might’ve taken minutes, or it might’ve taken seconds, but no matter what, we were going to come out of the gloom on the other side, coated in the dust remains of our enemies. The sun didn’t shine through the clouds, coating us in light, and we were our own cavalry coming over the hill. And the last thing we would do was stop.

The muted greens of the grassy field, peppered in black and brown ash, stopped beyond us, the short wall to the highway marking our destination. The simple tram station, spartan in style, stood in stark contrast to the obliterated wreck of a starfighter generously splayed across the ground in smouldering chunks. Crates and other debris - crates, of course, being the most prominent, as they tended to be dredged up from every nook and cranny whenever a fight was about - had been piled up as a defense just as makeshift as ours.

Five seconds passed, the ground a speeding by in a blur. I aimed. They fired.

A blue bolt the size of my arm zipped from my gun, turning one side of a crate into black mush. The soldier nearest jerked back, leaning forward slightly to assess the damage. My next shot didn’t miss.

Neon green and glowing, a tidal wave of deadly energy flowed toward us in retaliation for cutting through their charge. I spread my awareness out, moving in front of the girls as neon hell fell upon us all.

Two shots went wide, the third blasting a soldier backward and into the air. Comrades-in-arms slowly turned their heads to see the small line I had cleared, their faceplates expressionless.. I turned my head to the side, grinning at Aaro, both swords gripped tight in each of his hands. “Your turn.”

He looked back with a curiously blank expression, casually sliding one sword into its sheath and procuring the ugly, stubby little pistol he always carried around. Still looking at me, he raised his arm and pointed the barrel vaguely in the direction of the enemy line. A red light flashed, and the gun made a whoop sound.

Everything exploded. Unnaturally red, billowing flames erupted into being, consuming everything in a seventeen meter radius and introducing anything closer to the sky. I shielded my eyes with my pistol arm, and looking back to Aaro, I grimaced. “Showoff, cheater, overcompensator. There’s so many words and so little time.”

“What was that? I can’t hear you over the sound of my technologically-inferior sidearm!” he shouted back, laughing. Cocking his head for the briefest of moments, he smiled even wider at the news from his earpiece. “And here’s the tank. Everybody, might want to duck.”

“Tank?” Twilight called, eyes wide.

I spun toward them, launching my torso at the ground. “Get down, now!” The impact from the ground yanked the air from my lungs, , leaving me helpless to provide any more instruction in the split second I had left. Aaro and the other soldiers around us dropped simultaneously, guns, swords, and arms spread in front of them.

Eyes growing even further, there was a sharp intake of air from Twilight, and the four ponies dropped immediately, hugging the ground. I opened my mouth, sucking in a breath like a fish out of water.

Pure white light, blue tendrils splaying into the air around it, rippled over our heads. There wasn’t a roar, or a shot that came with it, but a teeth-rattling hum. It pulsed once, and I rolled over to see the spot where twenty soldiers were hiding, dissolve into a dirt crater with naught but a puff of white light. The beam of death moved to the side, taking out their entire line of barricades in ten seconds flat.

I exhaled, and for what seemed like the first time in a long time, I could hear myself breathing.

“That was awesome,” Rainbow Dash whispered, ears pointed forward.

“Actually it’s pretty inefficient as a weapon,” Aaro said, already pushing himself off the ground and patting down his uniform jacket with a free hand. “We only have them in the city for show - the model itself was decommissioned not too long ago, without seeing a lot of action.”

“Hard to aim, and laps up power like a thirsty hound,” I added, dusting off my own jacket.

“Also, the only efficient ones have red beams.”

“Shut up,” I snapped.

The muted sounds of the battle in the city continued, pressing at my ears insistently. I heard a soldier shout near us, followed by rifle fire. The rest of the soldiers, only around thirty strong now, dredged themselves up through the deep scar in the hill, casually firing at the staggered few enemies that were left. “It was still cool to look at, though.”

“Yup.... I never said it wasn’t awesome,” Aaro corrected, absent-mindedly fingering at his sword sheaths. He grinned. “I’ll get the pink paint later, Captain. Right now let’s get you to that tram station.” Puffing out his chest and rolling his shoulders back, he flashed a wink at me and jogged off. I turned around, stepping backwards and keeping an eye on the girls.

Twilight and the others had staggered to their hooves, fixing their manes and shaking their heads. The unicorn took a deep breath, leading the group to follow me, and walked by my side. “I won’t lie, that was... well, it’s not over yet, so I probably shouldn’t say anything.”

“Good idea,” I replied, facing in the direction Aaro had ran off in. We clamored our way over the blackened crater, sooty dirt staining our legs before we were done. The two cadets, one of them removing their dented faceplate to reveal a young teryn male, followed faithfully, eyes scanning the dark cityscape around us.

The soldiers had pushed themselves alongside the highway divider, peering over to take potshots at anything stupid enough to exist and or look remotely dangerous. Tucked in the corner like a forgotten toy was the tram station, its almost magically floating cables strung out over the road. Two of them sat patiently in the station, with Aaro and a few other soldiers in plain view.

“No sign of the enemy VALK point,” he called when we got closer. “They think it’s in between a few buildings not too far away, just on the off chance we did take this back. So... maybe you were right, I guess. These ponies probably didn’t have to come with the charge.”

“All’s forgiven, Premier Admiral,” I said casually, shrugging. “It’s in the past, and no pony got hurt. I’d shoot you, otherwise.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Demoted for insubordination,” joked Aaro, bearing a toothy, predatory grin at me and holding his hand up. I gave in, indulging in the high-five as we met. Two soldiers saluted, their eyes staring forward. It was the same tram we had taken here, or at least the same type, with the only difference being a lack of windows and sparse seating. Aaro confirmed my suspicions, saying, “it’s a cargo tram, fortunately. Anything else would just weigh you down.”

“Not by much. Both kinds go sodding fast and really sodding fast,” I muttered, raising my arm and wrapping my tired fingers around a ceiling handlehold. “Is it manual, though?”

“Wouldn’t give you any other kind,” Aaro winked, turning around to talk with another soldier.

“Right. One of you cadets,” I said, “come here.”

The teryn approached, swallowing. “Cadet Fen’r here, sir.”

I gestured to the control panel at the front of the rectangular boxy craft. It glowed a dim blue color, not spouting the intricate holographic controls the civilian transport tram would be equipped with. I sucked in a breath, recalling the information to the front of my head in an instant. “Docking port A-Eleven-Alpha is our destination. When we get there I want you to VALK back to the Towers and continue your duties. You, I want at the rear, scouting for anyone that might be following us.”

“Aye, sir,” Fen’r said, snapping off a salute and rushing for the controls. The other silently moved to the back, emotionless faceplate swiveling in the direction of the soldiers at the highway.

“Well,” I said, finally looking at the girls. “It’s just about over. We’ll be at the Homebound in no-time at all, and then you’re going straight back to Equestria.”

Dash sputtered, blinking at me. “Whoa-ho-hoo no. That wasn’t part of the deal. I thought you were going to give us a tour of the galaxy and stuff, not just drop us off at home as soon as anything dangerous happens.”

“If you’re calling a large-scale invasion ‘dangerous’ then yes, I’m going to fly you back home as soon as possible. I promised I’d protect you, and the best way to do that is not put you in any situations that call for protecting,” I deadpanned, holding my palm to my forehead.

Her eye twitched, and she hovered to eye-level, her muzzle scrunching up. “Are you implying I can’t handle myself?”

“No,” I corrected, putting my hand down and frowning. “I’m saying it specifically. You might think you’re good because back home you managed to scare off an army of wimpy bugs, but out here, that’s not going to fly. I know this because I’ve lived this life for nineteen years. You can’t be put in danger, and I’m not going to let it happen.”

“Yeah, you say that right after you led us to the middle of a gigantic battle and made us sit back and watch you fight,” Rainbow said. “Real good job, Captain.”

Twilight’s eyes bulged. “Rainbow Dash! He had no clue that a bad guy would try to invade while we were here. You can’t hold him responsible for that.”

“Well I know it wasn’t his fault, but he’s the one who had the brilliant plan to lead us right to the bad guys and then yell at me for being stressed,” Rainbow replied, dropped to the ground with a clop. She faced the unicorn, breathing heavily. “I’m sorry, but I have no clue what he’s trying to do! One minute he says they’ve got an invincible army, planet, thing, and that he’ll protect Equestria, and then suddenly some random evil freak shows up, trashes the place, and he makes us run through a fight that could kill us!”

I sighed, sinking to one knee. The pegasus turned to me, her eyes still narrowed in distrust. “I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I know it’s been stressful, and it’s not entirely over yet, but as soon as we get to the Homebound, I’m getting you off planet, and back to Equestria. It’s because I don’t want you to get hurt, or be in danger. Do you really want to stay and have that stress the whole time, knowing that at any moment a squad or even a strike fleet could appear and blast you and your friends away?”

“No, of course not. I’m just....” She trailed off, lowering her ears and head. “I don’t know. I just can’t trust you. You nearly got Fluttershy... hurt.”

Choking back my next set of words, I turned my head to look at Fluttershy. The cream colored coat had been marred with streaks of black soot and dirt, and her mane had none of the perkiness it usually had, laying flat across her back. She cowered behind Applejack, looking away as my gaze settled on her.

“It’s okay, Jackson,” Twilight said, hazarding a soft smile. “Nopony got hurt, and we don’t blame you. It was tense, stressful, exhilarating, and a little bit scary-”

“A lot!” Fluttershy squeaked.

“Okay, a lot scary,” said Twilight, nodding at her friend. “But the point is that even if some things have happened, I still trust you to lead us out of here.”

“You can count me in there with Twi,” Applejack said, winking. “I ain’t fond of this whole thing, but I reckon you’re trying your darndest to keep us safe.”

“And those nice soldiers did save me, and then you came...” Fluttershy muttered. “Even if it was scary, I trusted you.”

Dash sighed, scuffing at the floor of the tram with one hoof. “Well... fine. If you girls trust him, then I’ll trust him.” She looked up, eyes as cold as death. “But if any of them get hurt, you’re gonna pay.”

A new voice chuckled, and a red hand clapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry,” Aaro said, grinning. “If any of you get seriously injured, we’ll strip him of his rank and hand him over to Celestia so she can dish out her own punishment. That kind of screw-up is grounds of immediate exile.”

“Which won’t happen, because we’re getting out of here as soon as possible,” I said, turning to him. “Speaking of which, when are we leaving? Why are we stopped?”

“Ah. Some sort of bug in the brake system, I think. One of the guys just fixed it and I came to tell you.” He pointed outside, where a dirty uniformed soldier waved. A bright green light impacted the back of his head, piercing through the cloud his VALK-shadow left, and stopping when it reached us.

Aaro buckled, eyes wide, and fell into my arms like a limp sack of flour. He’d been unfortunate enough to do the stopping.

“Admiral!” I bellowed, dragging the Premier’s body through the tram entryway. I knelt down, lowering Aaro to the floor. A deep burn scar centered on the middle of his good arm, the VALK attached to it reduced to nothing but a mess of tangled wires and melted metal. The soldiers outside raised their weapons, and their arms buckled with each shot. “Cadet, get us the hell out of here,” I ordered.

Fen’r, a visible gulp showing on his long neck, sped his gloved fingers across the screen. The tram lurched, the top motors humming to life, and started to slog its way forward. We moved up, and the girls dug their hooves in. Below us was the highway, and saying it was in a state of disarray was the understatement of the century. Melted cars had been abandoned, toppled on each other like children’s toys, and the red metal dividers between each lane were burnt black and cracked. The soldiers, likely the same ones we had obliterated in our charge, clamored over each wreck.

“Get down,” I snapped. Two green bolts slammed into the ceiling, a few more pelting the underside of the car. For a split second, we passed through a tunnel, and after that the wind started to pick up.

“Ohmygoodness, is he okay?” Fluttershy stammered, somehow the only one of the group capable of finding words. I grabbed at his other arm, flicking a single button on the side of the datapad.

A small holographic display appeared a few inches above it. Letters and fluctuating numbers surrounded a three-dimensional view of his body in hologram form, arms outspread. I gazed at it for a split second, and then shook my head. “His arm’s wounded and he’s likely lost use of it until we can get him some Bio-Mend to reconstruct the damaged muscles and tendons, as well as the bone, but... that doesn’t explain why he’s knocked out.”

“Shock?” Twilight offered, swallowing. “I mean, that looks really, really bad.”

“Don’t look at it,” I barked. “I don’t want you throwing up on the wound or anything. I’m having the datapad run a basic diagnostic scan on-”

“Too late,” a voice said behind me. Applejack held her hoof to her mouth, eyes bulging, and departed to the opposite side of the car. Twilight and Rainbow Dash immediately looked away, ears flattening. I glared at Fluttershy.

“Um... I’m not really a licensed veterinarian, but I’ve taken care of lots of injured animals before. I don’t really get queasy,” she whispered, slinking back a little and looking at the ground. I shrugged.

“Right... well, someone or somepony get me cloth - just anything to dress this thing after I take the VALK off,” I said, moving my attention back to his unconscious body. None of the metal or plastic had melted onto his skin, thankfully, but it was hard to see where the device ended and body began. More disturbing was the gaping hole where I knew there should be flesh.

Taking a deep breath, I quickly tapped one of the wires that was sticking out. I wasn’t in severe pain, so going further was probably safe. Putting one thumb underneath the edge of the device on the other side of his arm, I cautiously began to peel it off.

“Captain!” the second cadet called from the back, the words muted from the wind and my own blunt concentration. Burned skin peeled back, some patches sliding off with the rest of the armbound device, and I grit my teeth. With my other hand, I carefully removed the other half, then slid the entire mess off his arm. I glanced up to see a white cloth hovering mid-air, Twilight’s magical aura surrounding it.

A sickly red pool of blood grew under us, and I tossed the useless VALK off to the side with one hand, and snagged the cloth with the other. “Where’d you get this?” I muttered, folding the cloth in half and scrutinizing the wound - measuring it with my eyes as they traced up and down it.

Like firecrackers, two green bolts slammed into the back of the car. I winced, turning my head sideways to stare at the cadet. She shrugged. “I tried to warn you, sir. They must’ve gotten to the other tram.”

“How the heck are they catching up, then?” I snapped, whipping around to face the pilot. “Are you actually going the speed limit?”

The teryn gulped, looking from me to the fast-approaching tram of baddies with saucer-eyes. “Uh. Bad habit, sir. I’ll speed up, then?”

He disappeared, his shadow torn into wispy tendrils that faded away a second later by a stream of green energy. Bolt after bolt smashed into the hull or sailed over our heads, like a deadly time-keeping metronome. I dropped to the floor, squirming around to get a look at Fluttershy. “Everyone get down. Cadet, go to the controls. Fluttershy, dress his wound.”

“W-why me?” she stammered, pointing a hoof at herself. The four ponies crouched low, just as a second set of shots flew past. She sucked in, breathing heavily, and stared at me with wide eyes.

“You said you had experience with this kind of thing. At least more experience than these three.”

“But t-that’s with animals!” Her eyes wandered over to the prone figure, bulging. “I’ve n-never had to- to heal an alien before.”

I raised an eyebrow, slinging the rifle around my waist and latching onto the grip. “Would you rather shoot the gun?” I deadpanned, holding out the cloth with my other hand.

“Come on, ‘Shy, you can totally handle this,” Rainbow hissed from the other side of the car, smiling. The cream mare looked to her other friends to support, ears flattened. They nodded earnestly - each decidedly still not looking at the body.

“Well if you don’t do it, he’ll probably die from blood loss,” I said, dropping the cloth at her hooves. “I’ve got a mission, and that’s to protect you.”

“O-okay,” whispered Fluttershy, silently snatching the dressing into her mouth and moving to Aaro.

I closed my eyes in a long blink, letting the wind buffet my face for a few seconds. A plasma shot passed by my head, green light and searing heat crossing over for a split second. I took a deep breath and spun around, readying my rifle and setting my sights on whatever was stupid enough to come up behind us.

We were well into the docking ports by now, a great metal and concrete sea of grid-like walls and massive hangars. All of it some shade of grey, and most of them the same. Bridges or the hint of a ship’s top deck could be seen peeking over each dock, passing us by at abominable speeds. The tram system was set up in a grid-like pattern, just like the dock, and the most important ones were straight ahead.

Behind us was a different story. To my right and our car’s left, I could see the hijacked tram inching its way forward, black shapes huddled together and peering through the openings.

I pursed my lips, and peered down the sights of my gun. “I’m sick and tired of shooting you guys into dust.”

My ears rang and my arms felt like I’d dipped them in boiling water and then proceeded to dribble hot glue along the undersides. My first two shots left me dazed, but each punched ghastly holes into the front end of the enemy tram.

“Is he going to be alright?” a voice asked at my side. Twin trails of hot steam ejected from either side of my weapon, procuring a low hissing sound.

I looked down to see Twilight sitting on her haunch and ducking just under the window. I shuffled to the side, frowning. “Two days in recovery at worst, and that’s just for the pain. Trust me when I say he’s gone through worse, and I’ve gone through much, much worse.”

“Flutters-” Twilight started, whatever else she was going to say drowned in a torrent of fire from my gun. The front of the other tram was nothing more than a few strands of metal now, half-melted from the heat, and ragged from the projectiles. In response, they fired back.

I ducked. “Their shots are too weak to pierce the wall. That’s hilarious.” I grinned weakly. “Go on.”

“Fluttershy’s fine. She just... she doesn’t do well under pressure,” Twilight said, eyes drawn to the floor. “But... she did what you asked, though.”

“That’s nice. Why are you telling me this here?” I said through my teeth, peeking over the ledge. “They’re gaining on us big-time.”

“Do you need any help?” Twilight asked, grinning warily. “I might have a spell that can do some good.”

“Do you have any shield spells?” I asked half-heartedly, taking a two more potshots at the other car. It was only twenty meters behind us, now, and the shots came down like rain. I ducked just as a bolt passed overhead, the heat causing me to instinctively flinch.

After a moment, I looked back to see her still sitting there, and when my ears had stopped ringing, she replied in an overly helpful tone, with a smile ear to ear, “Yes.”

“Oh...” I muttered, swallowing. “Erm. Right. Well, how long does it take to shoot, cast, or whatever you do with it?”

“A few seconds at most, and then I can continually feed magic into it to keep it stable. Theoretically, it can stand up to thirty sticks of dynamite at close range before it breaks, and that’s without the extra boost. I’ve never tested the theory with actual dynamite, though. ”

“Well with our luck, you’ll be testing that real soon, and with something a bit different than dynamite,” I muttered, gritting my teeth. Carefully, I unshouldered the rifle and laid it aside to cool off, my fingers searching my belt until they rested on the heavy pistol. Steady pounding pressed on my head, compressing my thoughts into the singular desire to get away at any cost. “I’m through playing games, and I’m sick of running and getting chased.”

Lips tugged down into a dark scowl, I stood up and took aim, squeezing the trigger. “And I bloody hate neon green!”

Like a poor argument at a diplomatic meeting full of politicians and media cameras, the complicated series of magnetic clamps holding the front half of the other car exploded in a flurry of angry sparks. It wobbled, dipping forward precariously on the two arm-thick cables holding it up. A black blob fell from the front, chucked body-first at the supply highway below. I couldn’t be sure if it was screaming or not through the ringing and wailing wind, but I hoped it was.

“And another thing!” I bellowed, squinting my eyes and judging the coup-de-grâs. “I. Hate.:

“Captain!” Alco interrupted from the front. Spinning around, I left my mouth half open in disgusted awe at his poor timing. I mentally prepared the cruelest, rudest thing I could possibly let loose, and then immediately forgot why.

Two immense black transports, twisted spikes protruding from their sides and engines, laced with bands of glowing green; the creator of the ships wanted whoever would see them to either be filled with pride or the subtle horror that they were about to die in some sort of terrible way.

They sat patiently around a thousand meters away on either side of the line, turrets spinning and directed at where we’d be in the next twenty seconds or so.

“Stop,” I wanted to say, my free hand gripping tight on the dented side. We wouldn’t stop on time, or we would, and then we’d be dead.

Instead I looked down, a warbled grin plastered on my face like the dead man I was. “Twilight,” I said calmly. “Now.”

“I can’t do it on a moving object like this,” she replied, eyes wide. Gulping, she lowered her ears and warily smiled up at me. “Sorry?”

My smile vanished, and I slowly lowered my arm. “Whelp. We are all going to-”

Bright blue passed over my eyes. Solid beams of energy descended from the heavens, and gently caressed the first ship at twelve hundred kilometers per hour. The first shot dissipated against the hull, and the second made the hull implode. Four more impacted, adding insult to injury. Cloaked in black smoke, its engines sputtered in a feeble attempt to stay aloft, and then it fell. There were no screams.

The second dropship spun to face the aerial attacker, mounted plasma repeater sputtering. I cringed, shrapnel-filled smoke from the previous wreckage flying overhead. “Took them long enough,” I said under my breath, turning to observe the cavalry.

A sound akin to the hum of a fighter’s engines escaped my mouth, now laid agape, and the sound grew to consume the area as one of our own came to our rescue, its sleek wedge-shaped chassis twirling in the wind and making it look like the enemy was missing on purpose.

Suffice to say, there was good reason some men skipped through the ranks.

“Heyo!” San Uske called from atop his fighter, the thick cockpit hatch nothing but a smouldering memory at this point, and likely ejected to the winds long ago. He grinned ear-to-ear, one hand lifting a cheap plastic soda cup to his lips, and then he took a long, blissful sip before releasing his grip and leaving the rest up to the wind. “I figured something was wrong when there were some dropships that weren’t dead!”

A green barrage passed him, one shot nicking the front of the ancient raptor fighter. He frowned, smashing one foot on the control panel of the craft. Two blue beams shot out from the craft and smashed directly into one of the bulky twin engines of the aggressor. Without much objection, the engine promptly exploded, forcing the ship into an upward spiral.

“Right. This one’s spent anyways,” San declared, maneuvering the speeding fighter closer. The stubby wings seemed all too eager to meet with our car; Twilight and Applejack seemed to share my look of abject terror, while Dash just stared with an open mouth. “Just a second,” he muttered, standing up and stretching his arms in either direction.

Shaking his head vigorously, he grinned and stepped onto the wing of the Raptor, grabbing on to the door opening of our car the second the fighter decided it no longer had a pilot, tilted dangerously upwards, and spun out of control.

And then it hit the dropship. Both exploded.

“Awesome,” he and Rainbow Dash said in unison. They shared a look between each other - wide eyes and wide grins spreading across both their gleeful faces.

“But I could totally do that myself,” Rainbow added.

“Could not,” he retorted instantly. The last flecks of shrapnel and smoke disintegrated in the blue-green explosion, now behind us. A few soft clunks against the top of the car indicated more had survived.

San turned to survey the damage, everypony continuing to stare at him. “Right. We’ve got our second-in-command down, our first-in-command missing from action at the moment. We’re surrounded by the enemy who have superior numbers and really big guns, and trapped in a single - large, but single - city. Our leaders are scattered and communications are slowly being taken out. Also, most of our current air support is gone and who knows what’s going on in orbit.” He took a deep breath, and then added, “good job on that wound, Shyflutter or whatever. You know your stuff.”

“Um, thanks,” Fluttershy said, backing away from the prone body of the person that was supposed to be leading us at the moment. “I-I’m not too sure about his vitals, but he is breathing. I think.”

“Excellent. Anyways, at the moment, we are absolutely outgunned, out-”

“And it’s Fluttershy,” the pegasus murmured.

“... out-fightered, and, er, some other fifth thing.”

“Well as long as we can stick together and figure something out,” I said, standing up straight and putting on a brave face for the girls. “Then... then we can do anything. We’ll get out of this mess, I promise.”

“Ah-ah-ah!” San exclaimed, putting his hands behind his back and marching to the front of the car with the resolve of a hero and mindset of a madman. “No need for any of the figuring stuff out part. I have a plan.”

Absolutely nobody moved. Wind whistled. Explosions rocked in the far distance of the inner city. Applejack opened and shut her mouth like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“Oh my God, we’re all going to die,” I said.

Author's Note

(And now for something completely different.)

New Lore Entries Unlocked:

(Lore Entry: The DragonTech Killblaster)
The Killblaster makes a very satisfying "whoop" sound, much like the sound made during victory dances. This, of course, is often overshadowed by the sound of complete destruction and immolation of whatever the Killblaster's business end was formerly focused on. By DragonTech guarantee, whatever is in front of the Killblaster before the trigger is pulled will be gone by the time the trigger is released.

(Lore Entry: Wing Cadets)
Wing cadets are considered one of the most powerful forces behind the Wing's combat engine.

This is because they provide substantial mobile cover for the actual most powerful force: the higher ranks.

On the day of the Gantoris invasion, Cadet Fen'r became the first cadet ever to survive an infantry charge. This is likely because the charge included three high ranks: Premier Castlor and Captain Amber leading the charge, and Admiral Uske, who, between dodging a homing missile and spilling his carbonated beverage on his pants, cursed and made an errant twitch, firing off from the fourth forward cannon out of seven on his Raptor, a plasma bolt which flew down into the battlefield and hit the artillery shot, correcting the rounding error made by Ensign Pidd, which would have placed the artillery shot directly in the center of Amber and Castlor's platoon.

Cadet Fen'r was given a shiny chrome medal, which reads, "The .00000000000000001 Percent."

(Lore Entry: Aaro Castlor's Arm, The Last Talon)
After Castlor's first tour of service -- which landed him in an admiral's seat through a set of unexpected killings of which Castlor had no control over -- his left arm became something of legend, rumored to be completely indestructible.

Unfortunately, this led many to assess his right arm as his weak point. To this day, his right arm has been injured a total of 61 times by various mercenaries, assassins, grunts, and heedless door-slamming secretaries. Statistically, this is 60 more times than his left arm has been injured, if the Last Talon's biological predecessor is included in the count. Fortunately for Castlor, this has led many foes to aim for his right arm, rather than other, more logical targets such as the chest or head.

When asked why he had not replaced his right arm on these 61 occasions, Castlor answered, "Long story short, I haven't found a marauder fond enough of the idea." No logical interpretations of the reply have yet been invented.

(Lore Entry: Cadet Alco)
Directly after Cadet Fen'r's acknowledgment of "first cadet ever to survive an infantry charge," many remembered that one other cadet had been in the party, and asked if he should be rewarded the same medal.

The issue was solved within the day, as various footage salvaged from every active camera in Gantoris revealed that Alco had, in fact, survived the charge. This was thought to be a shining moment for Alco, before an Ur'luk statician asked, "But was he the first?"

The footage was rewound to the moment the cadets arrived on the objective: the cable car platform. It was shown that Fen'r arrived on the platform approximately 253 nanoseconds before Alco. Alco was subsequently given a neon pink plastic medallion which read, "The Marginal Error."

(Lore Entry: San Uske's Raptor)
Many argue against the legend that San has used the same Raptor fighter since his induction into the Wing, due to its many crashes and explosive landings. However, in an odd set of coincidences involving a crashlanding into the Dragon's Maw forge on Draxis Ferys, The fighter's hull was simultaneously supercompressed as well as amalgamated with a century's worth of ceremonial Draxian steel. The newly-christened fighter was identified to be San's, and its hull appraised on several occasions to be harder than diamond, and more force-resistant than any reflective hull plating invented to date.

Should Admiral San Uske die, Wing Captain Jackson Amber holds claim to inspect and analyze the fighter's phenomenal alloy, "Before that damned rose-face Castlor can get his filthy hands on it!"

To date, Uske's Raptor has crashed a total of 343 times. Carbon scoring and the original alloying have left its hull almost entirely black.

(24) Mission Man

-Ophelius Docking Ports and Shipyards
-One hour and fifteen minutes before The Spectrum Event.

-Ophelius, Gantoris

-

San Uske’s plans have a nasty tendency of blowing up in our faces. They work, but they still blow up.

“No, no,” San protested. “It’s a good plan, I swear.”

Especially when he says that.

“The last time you said that, your ship ended up encased in ice, with you inside, and I got eaten trying to rescue you,” I retorted without a second’s hesitation, rolling my eyes. “The only reason you didn’t freeze to death was because Aaro turned his idiot-laser to the lowest setting – something a gun shouldn’t have as far as I’m concerned – and melted his way in.”

“Ah,” he said wistfully, leaning against a metal beam with a twinkle in his eye. “I really do love Tendus. Their snow is always the best tasting, and their people so friendly.”

“Shut up,” I snapped. “You said it yourself, our whole force is surrounded, we’ve apparently got no contact with the outside at this point, bar a few channels we’ve slipped though, we’re outmatched, and our direct superior is lying unconscious on the ground right here.”

“Um,” Fluttershy um’d suddenly.

“You mean my direct superior. You’re not an admiral, heh,” San shot back, a smug grin stretching across his face.

A new, dry voice spoke, “and not entirely unconscious, either.” Everyone except for Fluttershy, who was already there, turned to face Aaro’s prone body. He leaned upward on his mechanical arm, the other one propped up in a makeshift white sling. Flinching, he added, “but I really wish I wasn’t. You got any BioMend packs on you?”

“In me, sure,” I quipped, holding my hand out to help him, which he accepted gratefully. “But that probably doesn’t help you.”

“Always… always the arm,” he muttered to himself, steadying his feet on the car floor. “I really hate that. I’m going to need a new VALK now, too. Are all my things still safe?”

“Well we tossed your swords over a few minutes ago, and Jackson couldn’t disintegrate your pistol fast enough,” San replied, patting the premier on the back. “Glad to see you’re ninety-percent in one piece, buddy.”

Aaro waved a finger at the pilot-slash-admiral, shaking his head. “And I don’t even want to know how you ended up with us, okay? You do things that make my head really, really hurt.”

“This is really great and all,” Rainbow interrupted, “but can we please hear what this dumb plan is? I’m itching to get off this thing.”

Twilight groaned, rubbing her forehead with one hoof. “What she means, Captain, is that we’re happy the… Premier, right? Premier Castlor? We’re happy he’s okay, but we’re anxious to get to safety.”

Collectively, we backed off from the admiral, and I took a moment to gaze into the mess that made up the city horizon. The car was angled so I could clearly see it, lights twinkling in the distance, even under the heavy rainclouds that threatened to cause a downpour any minute. Smoke mixed in with the clouds, as if the sky was consuming the city building by building. The few towering GOD cannons, their fifty-foot wide barrels pointed to the sky, laid derelict in the chaos. A frown creased into my face, and I turned my attention back to Uske.

“So,” he was saying. “If there’s anything these guys are good at, it’s infantry. Their fighters are second rate, and they can’t even touch our ships one on one. He’s silent right now, but Admiral Ganymede has been gathering troops up in secret, all for the purpose of taking back the two remaining anti-capital ship surface-to-space weapons we have here: the GOD cannons. We take ‘em back, and we can destroy their ships in orbit with the push of a button.”

“That doesn’t really explain what the plan is,” I interrupted.

He growled at me. “I’m getting to it. Right now, do you have contact with the Homebound?”

“No, but last I heard they were running silent where it was docked, waiting for the rest of us to board.”

“Good. Grezz and Zal have, I think, two or three frigates that are in dock, and they’re waiting on Ganymede’s signal to take off and bombard the entrenched ground forces around each cannon base. All our fighters are down or scattered in the area, however, and we’ve only got a Nailgun and LAP frigate – two Nailguns, I think. Big, big problem for them.”

“Why?” Twilight asked, tilting her head. “If you don’t mind my asking, of course.”

“Nah. Nailguns are… well, Jackson invented them, so I’ll let him do the speech.” San nodded my way, stepping back to the car wall. After a moment, he jerked up straight, and slid over to the cadet in the control seat.

I shrugged, taking center stage, and faced the ponies. “Nailgun was a codename we ran with for one of my top-secret ship projects at the time. It was a state of the art bomber frigate capable of adjusting the four heavy plasma launchers it has on either side, to any setting you can imagine. If you want a bunker destroyed, then they can drill through rock. If you need a capital ship taken out, turn it on its side and it’ll do it in ten seconds flat. The big selling point, though, was that it can take out infantry without causing heavy collateral damage to buildings or the ground in general. The problem is that it doesn’t have very good anti-fighter capabilities. They’d shred it to pieces.”

Twilight raised her eyebrow. “Wow. I won’t say I’m impressed by a war machine, I’d really like to study… well, nevermind. What’s the ‘LAP’ frigate, then?”

“Hm? Oh, right.” I scratched the back of my head. “First of the experimental KaidenTech line of ships that I made, and probably the most specialized. It stands for Longshot Assault Phaser, first and last of its kind. It’s basically a giant gun that fires at incredibly long ranges. I think the record shot was… uh... can’t remember it, but it was like a bajillion meters or something. Sometimes it can work as a troop transport, but the mass of the gun is too big for it to work well in atmosphere. San, your plan, please?”

“Hm?” he called from the front, quickly stepping back into the ring. He flashed a grin, performing a mock bow. “And thank you to our guest speaker for tonight, Mister Captain Doctor Amber, everyone!” Sighing, he rubbed his hands together with a massive grin on his face. “Fighters! We’ve got lots of them, and they’re the reason we were originally called the Wing, remember? The second wave is finished, and the third, should we need it, is being mass-fabricated as we speak at the expense of the taxpayers. All my pilots are lined up in one of our hangars, and I was heading over to them when I saw you guys in trouble.”

“Your point?” I raised an eyebrow.

“My point is that if we can get the Homebound to escort the frigates with the fighters, we’re pretty much home-bound, baby! Get it? No? Whatever. We get the GOD cannons, we control the orbital situation, we get rid of the fighters and slowly start taking out their VALK points. Bam! Whole city’s under a hundred percent control in a manner of hours. It’s foolproof. Well, as long as we don’t all get killed or something.”

“That sounds simple enough. I don’t see why your plans have such a bad reputation. You’ve got all of the resources you need right now. What’s the issue?” Twilight asked.

“The issue that they’re directing quite a few fighters around the frigates. Nothing can take off until we take them out, including the Homebound, unless it has some good anti-fighter weapons.”

“It’s got a rotating MagRound cannon, medium class, but that wasn’t meant for fighters, even if it would work with a good man at the firing control,” I clarified. “So where do we come in? If I can get to the helm, the Homebound could definitely play its part. As soon as we have a window, too, we can jump out of the system for Equestria.”

Rainbow nudged me in the side. “Excuse me? I thought our plan was to get away from the fighting, and you know, escape?”

“Rainbow,” Applejack said, sighing. “Can you just give the man a break ‘fer a moment? They need the ship to help out. It ain’t your ship, anyway.” The orange mare faced me, tipping her hat with a grin. “I don’t know about anypony else, but I’m fine with it.”

“Erm,” San breathed, scratching the back of his neck.

“Fine, I’m in too.” Dash huffed, narrowing her eyes off to the side. “I’m just sick of this and… well, just mad, I guess. Fluttershy almost got hurt.”

“It’s okay, Rainbow,” the mare in question said, placing a hoof on her friend’s side. “I still trust them. I, um, only really almost got hurt because… it was sort of my fault.”

San made an obnoxious choking noise and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Twilight nodded, filling the gap in the line of ponies. “We’ve had a lot go bad in the past twenty minutes. It’s about time we finally got a plan together and fought back. I’m in, a hundred percent.”

“Wait, do any of you even know how to fly?” San butted in, waving his hands from side to side. “Because, erm, I kind of need Jackson.”

“Everyone seems to,” I grumbled, looking at him with a pursed-lip, impatient blank stare. “What?”

He took a deep breath, his mouth turning into an o shape on the exhale. “Our fighter group is really big right now, since I’ve siphoned off a few more reserve militia pilots that snuck through under the shield dome. But the thing is... I can’t lead it myself. I need a second squadron leader for the other half. Nobody here is capable except Aaro, and for one, he can’t fly to save his life-“

“Excuse me?” the second-in-command of our entire military force snapped.

“-and secondly, nobody can fly with one arm. Except me, probably. I changed our course to the hangars, by the way. Should be there in a few minutes.”

“Brilliant,” I groaned, leaning against the side of the car. “Aaro. I need someone capable to watch of the ponies while I’m flying with San, and that means captaining the Homebound. I assume you’re able to do that?”

“Kid,” he said, placing his arguably good arm on my shoulder. “I have crashed cruisers at light speed with pinpoint accuracy. I can captain.”

“Whatever that was, it wasn’t comforting,” I grumbled, pushing his hand off. I patted at my pants – a hopeless effort, since the fabric was stained by soot and dirt down to the atom. Eyes grazing over the ground for a moment, I picked the borrowed blaster off the ground and slung it over my shoulder. “And I’m like ten years older than you, kid.”

“Really?” Twilight blurted out. “You don’t look that old to me at all. I’m not the best judge, of course, but you and the Admiral look a lot alike, Captain. At least… oh, Celestia, that’s not what I meant to say!”

“You said I look old,” Aaro gasped in mock horror, patting his face like it would fall off any second.

I shrugged. “I was born this way. It’s a common species traitl… that or I’m just lucky. Plus, there’s the part where I don’t think Aaro has ever had to rebuild his own face before. It’s like repainting an old hovercar. Or like… I don’t know, a barn in your case.”

“Gross,” she gagged, sticking her tongue out at the mental imagine I likely gave her. “Point taken, though. I probably shouldn’t have tried to guess your age, being a whole other species. I wouldn’t expect you to get mine right off the bat, either.”

“Nineteen,” I said instantly.

“Twenty three,” Aaro added, smirking.

“Six,” San finished, chewing on some sort of candy bar he’d probably dug out of his pocket. “What?”

“Well, most of you were close, but I think you can wait a bit longer just because you guessed six,” she deadpanned.

There was a pregnant pause as we all glared at the admiral. His eyes shifted, and finally he slurred under his breath, “Erm, I meant six, as in.... ‘we’re here’....”

I rubbed my face with my palm, muttering, “Another brilliant move. Where is ‘here’ anyways, Admiral? The hangar?”

If it were possible – and every brain cell I had screamed it wasn’t – San’s smile, a crossbreed between a smug, sly, and stupid, that he had been wearing since I met the man, grew wider. “I love it when someone asks me that. Ladies, gents... and horse-thingies!”

“Ponies.” Applejack rolled her eyes.

Uske turned around, and I briefly caught a glimpse of the drop point, a steep incline that, if we went down it as we were, would send us all flying out the front. We wouldn’t, of course. The tram car would stay level while the connectors on top extended and swiveled.

He looked to the left, slowly raising his arms out as if he were walking on stage to a cheering crowd, one that hung on every movement he made. “You may have seen the Rei’Kah Squadron from the wedgehead glory-days, the bubble-shield fighters from the Psychic Wars, or even the legendary Emperor’s Fleet Guard of the Empirium!” He spun around, whole galaxies swirling in his eyes. “But, you haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen the Gold Squadron!”

The great wall that blurred past our vision as we descended left us. Behind the window was a fighter junkie’s deepest dream. Docking ports, especially the ones converted into fighter hangars, were not infinite, but they had a good go at trying to be. Right in the middle, where yellow strips coated the floor, sat rows upon rows of one of the most technologically efficient fighters ever created.

It was the kind of vehicle that looked like it didn’t fly. Space, in fact, simply parted ways around it and let it pass through out of politeness. Two massive engines sat at the back, the cockpit a large two-seater designed for both comfort and safety, even if the second seat was shoved in the back like an afterthought and not even visible from the cockpit. If any part of the two-inch thick steel-glass even cracked, a hard energy field would be spread out over it to prevent depressurization in a vacuum. Two stubby wings protruded from either side, with roundish vertical correction and takeoff engines placed in the middle. Last but not least, two wire-like tubes ran down the entire craft, ending at the tip, where another larger hole was located in the center.

Each one had a man stationed beside it, either standing at attention or giving his attention to the craft itself. Repair and refuel robots mulled about, either welcomed with open arms to shooed away by each fighter’s pilot. On one side of the hangar, I could even see a dozen or so of them playing a card game.

“Designed by me,” I said, pride choking my throat. Or at least pretending to for the sake of appearances. “The Solis Fighter. Best thing I ever made. Borrowed part of the base design from a hopeful lieutenant commander, which was an absolute garbage bomber, but I made it into something so much better.”

“I give it a four out of five cupholders,” San added.

“Sounds fancy,” Twilight finished.

“Right....” I rolled my eyes, gripping tight on the ceiling rail to steady myself. “I assume that’s what we’re flying. What are the squadron designations?” I didn’t need to ask, of course. I could plainly see the colors displayed on the hull of each craft.

“Gold and Red,” he said absent-mindedly, looking at his datapad with a flick of the wrist. “Callsigns are the same as usual.”

“Not Gold and good ‘ol Blue? Going out of your comfort zone today, I see,” Aaro quipped, shuffling to the side. I leaned with the tram as it turned sharply, finally settling on the ground floor. I could see the glow of the doors ahead, raising above us to unload the tram’s cargo.

San shrugged, stepping off the tram and onto solid ground, and the sound of his boot was silenced by the whining and grumbling of machinery that was the only constant in this place. It was worse than an academy on the rare days I volunteered as a so-called instructor, only all of these people had graduated from an academy and were heading to war, not an obstacle course.

We ferried off of the platform, and San looked over the array of fighters. Judging from the two different colors and the fact he needed another squadron leader, there had to be almost forty of them, lined up in neat, obsessively clean rows a couple of meters apart. Pilots crowded around their respective areas, chatting or simply taking some time alone. Grimaces and laughter abounded.

“Hey, hey! We need a medical kit over here, and, uh, preferably a medic attached to it.” San called into the hangar, spinning to block our way with outstretched hands. He frowned at Aaro, gesturing at the arm haphazardly wrapped in a white - and now turning a slightly sickening shade of dark maroon - cloth sling.

Aaro rolled his eyes. “And I was so looking forward to bleeding out,” he deadpanned, his good arm reaching around and peeling off the white fabric. I flinched at the sight of the burnt, scarred mess underneath. Even Twilight gagged, following her friends’ leads and turning away.

A slim teryn jogged over, white uniform yanked up and down by the heavy pockets that lined it. He took in two sharp breaths, then nodded, stepping toward the premier. “Simple nerve-centered laser-shot, designed to knock a target unconscious while doing minor physical damage. I’ve treated several of them today - you can tell by the veins pulsing like that along the rest of the arm.”

“Minor damage seems a bit inappropriate a term,” Twilight coughed.

“Dectavians have different concepts to what kay-and-pea means. It’s not rare you find their soldiers carrying weapons a law-enforcer would use,” the teryn rattled off in a numb voice, leaning down on one leg to get a closer look at the injury. As if he were holding an infant, he cradled the underside of the appendage and leaned in. “Their enforcers are as sadistic as all the jungles of Rei’Kah IV, though. I saw pics of injuries on the comweb, and I’m glad I don’t have to treat them. Gave me the willies. Er, you’re still bleeding.”

He spat, a thick glob of saliva slathering itself over the blackened skin. “And, um, this is probably not only going to hurt, but take a while. You want a PVPH, amp and redo, or base then cast? Bio comes standard.”

“Base and cast, ASAP,” Aaro hissed through gritted teeth, flinching when the medic spat again. “I hate the tube and I prefer to keep my body parts at the very least near me.”

“Yessir,” the teryn muttered. One hand opened the kit at his side, and he went to work.

I shook my head, following San and the ponies a little ways away, nearer to the mass of cargo and equipment stored at the back of the hangar. Twilight and the girls turned toward me, whilst San fiddled with his datapad, and Twilight sighed.

“That translator ring does work, right? I could barely understand a thing he said.” She perked her nose up, tilting her head to one side to get a quick look at the spindly medic. “And in what universe is spitting on a wound part of a medical treatment? If a doctor in Equestria did that, they’d have their license taken away before they could utter the word ‘malpractice.’”

“Ours,” I said, shrugging. “Teryn saliva has excellent blood clotting qualities and usually carries far less potentially harmful bacteria than other humanoids to the point where they don’t even need to worry about it. They’re valuable in the medical field as first responders, paramedics, and so on. Variant medics like me are actually pretty rare.”

“Did she just say ‘translator ring’?” San asked, quirking an eyebrow. “That explains the bad lip-sync I’m getting on my end. Let me guess… magnetism?”

Twilight blinked, narrowing her eyebrows at the admiral. “Actually, that’s not too far-”

“Wait, did you just say you’re a medic?” Rainbow butted in, flying in front of me and crossing her hooves. “Where did that come from?”

“Nineteen years ago, Omega Station recruiting office A-Eleven,” I deadpanned. “I was the assistant medical personnel on one of the greatest ships in the Wing at the time, the Legend.”

“You never told us that,” Rainbow said, now flying backwards as we approached the mass of cargo crates and miscellaneous devices. San led the way to a small panel sitting in the middle of it all, a window-like frame around where you’d think a screen would be.

“I don’t normally tell strangers my life story. Do you?” I joked, smirking.

“Well… not always,” she replied, rubbing a hoof behind her neck. Something sparked behind her eyes, and an instant later she smirked at me. “But my life story is pretty awesome, so yeah, I guess I have done it a few times.”

I stopped at the panel, turning to look at her. You could’ve connected a thread between our pupils without an angle on it, and the thread would’ve caught fire going off of how much I was putting into my glare.

“Well mine’s not as awesome, and it’s three times as long as yours, probably,” I said, as if the words were unstable explosives.

Sighing, I looked at the grey floor for a split second, turning to San before she could offer a rebuttal. “This what I think it is?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.” I scratched my head for a moment. “Have you managed to get any proper channels to the outside, yet?”

He winked. “Actually, yes. One or two. I can get you set up, if you wanted. As for the Homebound, all we need is the ship’s channel code and somebody to pick up,” he replied, beaming. A holographic keyboard blipped into existence above the panel and he tapped away. “What is it, again?”

I looked at him for a moment, flipping through the metaphorical pages of my memory before answering, “Kay dash one nine six space twenty-three twelve eleven.”

“What’s this supposed to do?” Twilight asked, taking a place beside me. Rainbow finally moved off, likely staring indignantly at the back of my head, while Applejack and Fluttershy pulled up the rear. “Communication, right? Like what you showed me in that ships holo-room?”

“You betcha,” I muttered, carefully watching San’s fingers’ movements. “Just a lot more basic. He’s going to call the Homebound and see how your friends are doing.”

Twilight breathed a sigh of relief, an action her friends happily mirrored. “That’s good. I really hope they’re okay.”

“They’re picking up,” San muttered, stepping aside to let me stand directly in front of the screen. It flickered, and a muted blue image drew itself between the wire frame. In it, I could clearly see the bridge of the Homebound. The only person there was Evo, and Spike, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie stood on either side of him, with Spike clinging to Rarity’s leg.

“Sir!” Evo said, smiling and letting his shoulders droop. He opened his mouth before Pinkie’s face smashed itself against the screen.

“Ohmygoshweweresoworried!” she yelled in a single syllable.

“Pinkie, dear, please stop rubbing your face against that,” a muted voice in the background said. The pink mare’s face twisted into a frown, but she nevertheless pulled away with an audible pop.

“Er, right then,” I said, rubbing my face with my hand. “Listen, Evo, how are you holding up over there?”

He paused, taking a deep breath and glancing back at the door. “Barely, sir. The soldiers… they are patrolling our area, they break into ships and take the crew when they can. We are powered down, to hide, and the others are in the hangar waiting for you or the soldiers. Whoever comes first, yes?”

“Well we’re nowhere near the ship, unfortunately.” I shook my head. “Listen, as soon as he’s ready, Admiral Castlor is going to VALK over to the ship along with the rest of the ponies. I’m staying to help Admiral Uske with a counterattack, and I’ll meet up with you after it’s done, if I can’t.” I paused, licking my lips and taking a moment to think. “And… listen, if I can’t make it, then you’ll follow Aaro’s orders from then on and get out of the system as fast as possible, and that means as soon as the shield-dome even flickers. Your best bet might be at Han Wavel, and I’ll try to meet you there. If you can’t even get there, go straight back to Equestria and stay there.”

“Yessir, of… erm, why would we stay at the pony planet?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Because if you can’t make it to Han Wavel, then everyone there probably dead,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Right. Just hold out for now. I think it’s best to give the ponies some alone time” Spinning around, I nodded. “Thanks for being patient, girls.”

Twilight and Applejack smiled up at me, the other two crowding around the screen. “Rarity, Pinkie Pie… Spike! I’m so glad to see you’re all okay,” Twilight said, putting both hooves up on the panel and hoisting herself up to eye level.

“We’re okay? Darling, what happened to you? You look simply dreadful!” Rarity titted from the screen, holding a hoof to her forehead. “Oh, I can’t imagine what you poor ponies have been through. How is Fluttershy holding up?”

A low breath escaped through my lips, and my chest extended, freed from a tightness that had been constricting it since the attack began. For a second, I let my eyes close and stepped back. It didn’t matter if the air in here was stale and smelled of fuel and the machines of war; it smelled so much fresher now.

“Job well done,” I said to myself, opening my eyes. “So far, at least.”

I walked back over to the chattering group, laying a hand on Twilight’s shoulder when I arrived. “Girls, and, er, Spike. How are you all holding up?”

“Well besides those meanie-pants soldiers from earlier, we’re doing super-duper over here!” Pinkie exclaimed, waving to the camera.

“I suppose my complaints over leaving my luggage behind are all irrelevant,” Rarity said, looking off to the side. “Even if you can’t do it at the moment, I really would appreciate some effort to get them back, Captain.”

My brow furrowed in frustration, and my mouth opened to utter a poorly worded criticism. I gulped it down, and instead nodded. “Alright. Baggage will be retrieved, don’t worry about it in the slightest.”

“Well we’re fine too, by the way,” Rainbow said, still hovering next to the communication panel.

“Hush, Rainbow,” Applejack shot, looking back up at me. “We’ve been over this, Jackson. Y’all did what you needed to and you kept yer’ promise to keep us safe, even if Fluttershy did come a bit close there.”

“I’m fine, really,” the aforementioned pony muttered. “It was just scary… and it still is, but at least that part is over.”

I bit my lowered lip, and backed up a step, nodding. “Okay then. I just wanted to know where we all stood, because it’s almost over.” I paused to wink at Applejack. “And what did I say? I always get the job done, and I never break a promise. You girls have nothing to worry about, as long as you stay sharp and do what we say.”

Something horrible bubbled in my throat for a moment, like an insect digging its legs into my insides. I sputtered, hunching over where I stood and hacking, each cough marked by an exaggerated bob of the head. Fluttershy stepped forward, but it was over as soon as it started and I blinked blearily at the ground, my inflamed arms holding my knees. “I’m fine. I’m… Admiral Uske, do you have another one of these comm-stations?”

“Hm?” He raised an eyebrow, having stood off to the side with an amused expression the entire time. “Oh, yeah. It’s in the corner over there,” he said, pointing off in the direction behind him. “You can use it if you want. Password’s standard. Hey, and while you’re over there, I’m going to go brief a few of the pilots and set up the squadrons. And you know… go to the bathroom and stuff. You guys probably need to at this point.”

“Thanks,” I said, straightening up. Each step felt like my feet were lead weights, and the hangar had gained an odd red tint in the corners of my vision, arcing to every side like bloody spiderwebs. I blinked once, and it faded. Twice, and it was a memory. A memory that nevertheless reminded me of how badly I needed my medication. With heavy steps, I made for the panel in the distance.

Twilight’s voice called out to me, and I stopped to make a half-turn toward her. “Jackson?” she asked, trotting up behind me. A joyful wetness has gathered around the edges of her eyes, alongside a wide grin. I simply nodded in response, anything I could’ve answered with bolted away from her hard gaze. “So what are you going to do now?

“Talk privately. Why?” I responded, taking a step to face her completely.

“I… I wanted to thank you,” said Twilight, taking another step forward. I took up the silent cue and kneeled down - it just felt right to look her in the eyes without it seeming like her neck was going to snap off from looking up. “For what you’ve done for us. It can’t be easy to have to drag us everywhere and I don’t want for any of us to be a burden. I just wanted you to know that, when this is all over and you drop us off in Canterlot, we’ll be rooting for you until you get back, and that you’ll always be our friend.”

“Until I get back…” I muttered, wetting my lips for even the most miniscule of distractions. I looked down. “Twilight… you know this is a war, right?”

“Of course it is, I-I know what a war is, and I know how much more awful and different it is out here than it is in Equestria.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. She’d said her own brother was an important figure in her own country’s army, so I couldn’t imagine what she was thinking right then. “But you’ve been through so much, there’s no way you can’t win this. I know you.”

“You’ve known me for six days,” I countered, a weak grin the most I could produce. “You don’t know me in the slightest. You don’t know war, and I’m trying to keep it that way. I’m not saying I’m going to die, because I don’t plan on it. I plan on being a Captain of the Wing, because that is my duty. I plan on protecting innocent people and ponies, because that is what I am compelled to do as a good person.” I shut my eyes, and did something I likely wouldn’t have done in any other circumstance, especially not to an alien being I had known less than a week. I brought her into a hug.

“And I’ll do an infinite amount more than that… for what I believe in.”

“Jackson…?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s highly improbable. Infinity is really, really big.”

“Don’t ruin the moment, miss purple horse thing.”

“Sorry, but it would’ve bugged me if I didn’t tell you.”

I pulled away, my smirk far more genuine this time. “In any case, did I ever tell you I’m the tenth luckiest man in the galaxy? There’s no way I won’t be coming back to Equestria for you girls, I promise. I’ll expect a party and stuff, alright? No cake, though. I don’t do cake.”

Returning the smile, she scoffed. “Pinkie will throw a tantrum probably, but alright. It’s a deal.”

We shook on it.

~=V=~

“Good choice. The last thing I want is any casualties,” I said. In my own little corner, hunched over my communication station, I was finally invisible for a moment. The pressure of the world could be lifted up from my shoulders and put onto some other poor sod’s for a little while.

The pressure of the galaxy was a lot lighter anyways, believe it or not. There was a quote in an old book I read, once: “Those whose eyes observe the larger picture are compelled to gloss over the brush-strokes used to paint it.”

A heavily bearded, short little man on the screen grinned into the camera. “Naturally, sir. We have forty or so minutes, now, and so far we’re not detecting any signatures around the anomaly, so it’s likely the Dectavians don’t even know about it yet.”

“But they do know about our guests, and apparently have prioritized taking them alive. This is more proof they don’t know the location just yet, but it’s best to be prepared. Do the rest of the captains know to engage stealth tactics upon arrival?”

“Aye, sir. They were informed as soon as you told me.”

“Excellent. Everything else is up to you. Commander Boyo is in charge of the operation on the ground, by the way. The Noble Martha should be prioritized over the others due to the sensitive nature of its cargo, as you know. I just want to make that clear.”

“As draxian glasswork, sir. Ah, er… are you sure you do not wish for us to divert course and attend to the significantly large invasion force surrounding Gantoris?”

“I have several other Liberty Fleet ships preparing to launch as reinforcements alongside Alpha Strike and Defense One. We get that shield taken out, and the Dectavians will be dusted in seconds. Even our current ships are holding their own against them… for now. So no, stay on course. Everything here will be handled.”

“Of course. Sir, I do not wish to speak rudely here, but what if it isn’t?”

I paused, licking my lips. “Then… stay there. Follow procedure. If you can, organize a resistance or help with the Exodus Operation if it happens. Worst case scenario, I recommend you stay on Earth… indefinitely. The crews of the ships I sent to escort the Noble Martha have a highly varied alien crew. Enough for… at least some sort of fresh start. For hope at the very least. The galaxy will need it if E really has a Derelict up and running.”

The dwarfish linnae’s eyes widened in understanding, and he solemnly looked at one of the controls at his chair. “That was clever, sir.”

“I prepare for everything, commander. Even the unthinkable and impossible.”

A wry smile grew on his face, and he bobbed his head in what he likely thought constituted as a nod. “Reputations are always earned, I hear. In any case, ship power must be rationed, sir, so are there any other orders before I cut off the call?”

I paused, wracking my mind. “Hm… yes. Make sure the crew of all ships in the fleet know not to mention that they’re on Earth to the ponies. They don’t know what Earth means to us, and I’d rather I be the one to break it to them. Humans are included in the list of sensitive topics. We can’t seem like we have an ulterior motive to this.”

“Will do, Captain. Commander Freyas, signing off.”

“Godspeed.” The hologram warped into nothingness.

My corner was drowned in darkness, and I breathed it in like a drug. Only the overhead light could penetrate my isolated station, and even that seemed to be choked. A fragile glass wall had been briefly erected.

The sound of hoofsteps, a repetitive noise that would likely be ingrained in my memory for years to come, shattered it.

“Yes?” I said, wincing at the thought of turning around. My brief respite from the war was over. I don’t mean the one with the invasion.

“I- I… uh… I’ll leave, if I’m bothering you,” Fluttershy muttered.

I turned to face her, the pained look on my face washing off. There wasn’t any harm in listening to what she had to say, so I put on my most disarming smile - or at least, the emotionally disarming kind. When facing a slew of ill-prepared gangsters, you’d be surprised what an assault rifle, nineteen years of military training, and an award-winning grin can do. That’s a story for a different day, though.

So I answer, “No, no. Not a whole lot could bother me right now. I’ve reached my sodding zen point. Everything’s pink flowers now.”

Smiling, ten out of ten. Improvised dialogue, not so much.

“Oh, that’s good to hear,” she said, obliviously continuing her approach. I stooped down to look her in the eye. “You seemed very stressed earlier.”

I shrugged. “So did you. Fighting does that. All that matters to me is that you girls are okay.” I paused, looking her straight in the eyes. “Are you okay?”

It took a second too long for her to answer. “Sort of…. It’s all really scary, almost as bad as the changeling invasion or Discord.” Again with that name. Celestia had mentioned fighting him in the far past, not recently, I thought, but I nodded anyways. “It’s kind of… hard to describe, I think. Maybe once we’re safe and back in Equestria, but… I’m just scared right now. For us, for you, for all of those poor soldiers out there. Twilight really isn’t happy.”

I failed to suppress a scoff, and patted at the air. “Ah, ha ha. Right. When I find a war that made everyone happy, then I’ll be surprised.”

“She, um, said she’ll need to talk with you after this.”

I froze.

“Jackson?” she asked, tilting her head.

“It’s... nothing. We can talk when we get to Equestria. It’s our priority at the moment,” I sputtered, shuffling into a more comfortable crouching position. “But, uh….” I looked at the ground for a moment, my voice softening. “Did she say what she was mad about?”

Fluttershy looked away for a split second, ears swiveling. “I, um, don’t really know. She probably just wants to know more. Twilight always gets mad when she doesn’t know everything about a certain subject, and, well, this whole galaxy is something she knows nothing about. And I think she’s bottled that feeling up….”

“... and all the fighting has probably made her stress levels rise monumentally. The Gantoris Halls was probably a release, but not much,” I finished for her, standing up. “I think I get it.”

The pegasus stepped aside, and we started making tracks toward the rest of the group still at the panel. Uske jerked up, nodded, and said something to the girls.

“She’s also worried about you,” I heard her say, her pillow-like voice barely audible over the mechanical buzzing and clanking of the hangar.

“Everyone seems to be worried about me all the time,” I joked, shrugging. “I’m fine, and she knows it. I’ve been through, much, much worse. You’ve seen the scars.”

“That’s part of the reason….” I barely heard her say, right as we arrived at the panel.

I waved at Uske, who was uncharacteristically silent. Aaro, I noted, was a few meters off and chatting it up with the friendly medic, his arm in a less patchwork looking sling this time. Somehow, that made the mechanical one look all the more deadly.

“Is that them now?” Spike said from the screen. I wasn’t at an angle to see it, but I could practically feel the loss in his voice.

“Aww, but I was having so much fun with the crazy talky-window!” Pinkie exclaimed.

“Really,” Applejack deadpanned, quirking an eyebrow. “Couldn’t tell in the slightest, Pinkie.”

I finally managed to walk behind the group, getting a full view of Rarity magically pulling Pinkie’s face out of the camera lens. “It was fun talking with you all using this rather fantastic technology,” she said, dropping the pink monster off beside her. “But I’d much rather talk to you in pony. See you all in a few minutes!”

“Bye!” they all chorused. It was a pure sound, like a wind-chime or wedding bells. Innocent. Hopeful.

The mission had not failed.

I clapped my hands together right as the hologram blinked off. “Right then. Uske, do you have their VALKs coordinated?”

He shrugged, waving a hand at a far-off technician checking a few crates. “I know the codes and told that bloke. He’ll be around in a moment to plug in the numbers and stuff.” Even as he started talking, the blue-uniformed tech jogged over.

One hand reached up to scratch his balding head, while the other adjusted his glasses and took out a holographic datacard - effectively a holographic piece of paper - to gloss over. “These horse things won’t mind it, boss?”

“Ponies,” Twilight corrected without a moment’s hesitation. “And we’ll be fine, sir.” Pursing his lips, the man resolved to step back and merely quirk an eyebrow.

“Are the squadrons ready?” I asked, turning to the Admiral. He had been fiddling with his datapad the entire time, but finally lowered his arm to look at me.

He just beamed. “We’ve got thirty-six fighters revving to go, Jackson. I’ll be in a raptor, by the way. I evem showed Rainbow Dash here the fighter you’ll be using.” Crossing his arms, he turned his smug gaze to the rainbow pony in question. “And I think she was impressed.”

Dash hovered, going muzzle to nose with him on a dime. “I was not!” She huffed, crossing her forelegs and backing off a bit. “It’s just a giant hunk of metal. You can’t beat natural wings, buddy.”

San winked. “You totally were, and I’m not your buddy, lady.”

“And I’m not your lady, buddy!”

A red face stepped in, and Aaro raised a hand to interrupt them. “You’re both pretty, okay? Admiral, what’s the ETA on Ganymede and the others’ go-ahead?”

“Five minutes ago,” San’s face fell, and he looked at the two of us with a rare straight face. “But seriously, the Dectavians apparently already have boots on the ground outside of Zalthice and Grezz’s hangars and are trying to barge their way in without knocking politely. They’re holding them off as best they can, but without air support they’re as good as doomed. Probably twenty minutes more they can hold out. We can get there before then, though.”

The three of us shared a look, and I finally said, “Show me my fighter, and then let’s shoot some hatships.”

A metal hand met two flesh ones in a glorious trio of high-fives. Sometimes we needed to do silly stuff.

Twilight coughed. “Hatships?

“It’s an office joke,” San quipped, tapping something on his datapad for a moment. “One time, when we were planning an engagement against a few Dectavian patrols, Aaro stuck a hat in a blender and used it as a physical example of what their fighters looked like.”

“The scary thing was that he was spot on,” I added.

She rolled her eyes. “You guys are so weird.”

“Trained killers have to be,” San muttered under his breath, clicking off his datapad. “Speaking of trained, er, pilots. Captain Amber, here’s our wingmen.” With that announcement he stepped aside, just as two wiry pilots in jumpsuits approached.

I nodded in greeting. “It’s a pleasure.”

“All ours, cap’n,” the first of the two, a teryn, quipped. Both gave a quick salute, and the one that had spoke said. “I’m Lieutenant Sharpe, Gold Two, callsign NotSo.”

The other, a thin ur’luk woman, stepped forward, extending a hand that I accepted. “And I’m Lieutenant King, Red Two, callsign Witch Doctor. I’ll be your wing-woman for today.”

“She’s actually the highest ranking of the Gantoris Militia that slipped through,” San explained, pointing at Lt. King. “Best on the planet, probably. Well, at least the best native.”

“You’re too kind, sir.” She blushed, looking back to me. “I can take you through and introduce you to the boys, if you’d like -” she took a deep breath, and put a hand on one hip “- because it isn’t every day you fly with one of the best, Captain. They’re excited,” she said huskily, waving me forward.

I glanced over to Aaro, quirking an eyebrow. “Is everything set up with you? While I was contacting the Fleet I sent you some basic codes and whatnot for the Homebound.”

He nodded. “I’ll return it back to you in one piece, I promise. Won’t even scratch the paint.”

Barely glossing over the girls - I couldn’t look at them for too long, knowing they were going to be in the Homebound during all of this and that I couldn’t be there to help them - I gave a quick salute and a soft, “See you later,” to the bunch. Specifically the purple one. Not Spike.

Okay, it was Twilight.

I’ve already stated what I thought of the fighters. They were powerful machines. Bulky and ugly compared to the sleek design of the Raptor, the old fighter class the Wing was known for, but it had some of the most advanced in ship shielding technology available. At least fighter shielding technology. Solis fighters were built to withstand and dish out a ton of pain. Probably the thing I enjoyed designing and flying the most. It was almost perfect.

Humble is the Captain Amber, am I right?

“Your comset’s in the fighter, by the way, sir,” Witch Doctor said, sauntering her way into the lines of war machines.

Giving one last little wave to the motley group behind us, I turned to look at her. “I’d be disappointed if that weren’t the case. Were you told how many of them we’re really going up against?”

“Seventy-five brown-nosers and ninety-something squatters, or at least that’s what we heard dropped. Someone told me our first two squadrons managed to down half of them and our AAA took out a good bit before the ground assaults,” she rattled off, taking a sharp turn at what looked like the halfway mark of the hangar. Around a dozen or so jumpsuited pilots sat in a clearing, positioning themselves on top of the engine or nose of a fighter in ways that would give the engineers a headache if they knew about it. “We won’t know for sure until we get our combat computers pointed at them. Someone else probably has, but communication’s so broken right now we haven’t got wind of it. Have you gone to the loo, by the way?”

“I went five minutes ago. So... thirty-six of us in all against, what, thirty-something fighters and forty-something bombers?” I smirked. “I love an even fight.”

“Last I checked, even that’s not balanced odds for us. This will be a cakewalk,” she shot back, returning the grin. The sultry -and I have no idea how it’s possible to look sultry in one of those bulky flight-suits, but she did, I swear - ur’luk clapped her hands together, calling out, “Oi! Big boss is here, so get ready to suit up and shoot out!”

The lot stared at me for a split second, before one of militiamen dropped his hand. Before they hit the ground he was already up and saluting. “Holy sh-... I mean, you’re Amber, right? The Amber?”

“There’s anyone else?” I joked, reaching out to shake a hand or two when they cropped up. “Because I’ll probably need to beat the crap out of him for impersonating me.”

“I heard you were in the Battle of Omega, back in the Orion War. I heard you flew back then but nobody believed me,” one of the younger ones said, a brown-haired human variant that had a suit two sizes large. He scratched his head with a glove. “Even when I told them my dad fought with you, too. You ever know an, er, Tom Arcem?”

We shook hands, and I replied, “You’re the kid he kept blabbing about? Guy was my best friend during the war. Met him on the Legend and served with him up until the siege of Ophelius.”

Nodding, he waved over a few of the others. “Yeah, I guess I’m him, heh. It’s so awesome to finally meet you in person. I’m Corporal Arcem, by the way. Red Four on this mission, but the callsign’s Dock. This here’s….” And so it went.

I met a Red Three, Action; Red Seven, Fish. A whole slew of names got thrown at me and I memorized them in quick succession. Hype, Barf, Action, Quirky, Sweat. None of them were particularly interesting, but each one had their own callsign specifically tailored to them, and it was something they earned. Sometimes it was because of a funny mishap, a personality quirk, or just bad luck, but each one was special and it was earned. Mine, for the curious listeners, was “Hero.”

I’ve learned to hate it.

The cockpits in Solis fighters were designed to be comfortable, since the vehicles themselves were meant for system jumps and long fights. Being that the introductions were over and done with, finally, I listened to the whirr of thirty-six engines capable of faster-than-light speed firing up in what was once an infinite space and was now a cramped room full of antsy pilots. A dazzling display of diodes, switches, and holographic interfaces blipped to life before me. Like a far-off echo, I could hear the others calling in and confirming a connection to the squadron channel.

“... and we’re all set for engines. Kinetic barrier is online, as are inertial dampeners. Green dots on weapon power and the reactor is functioning in the blue. San, what callsign are you using, again?”

“Callsigns are for wusses. Find me a cool one and then we’ll talk,” came the sugar-fueled reply on the other end, and I could easily imagine the admiral bouncing in his seat. “Also, everyone’s called in. All lights are blue, green, whatever. Let’s go blow up some bad guys.”

Above us, a blinding ray of light sliced through the moving hangar doors, baptizing the craft below in gold. My squadron, a group of eighteen ships piloted by what some of the more picky Wing members would call academy dropouts, bore the red stripes, while San’s bore the gold ones. I’d never admit they were gold, though. They always looked more like plain yellow to me.

“All craft are a-go, designated drivers, please prep the upward planar throttle and have your barf bags at the ready,” I called into the mic, scooting deeper into my seat. “Fangs out, folks. We’re flying into hell itself out there. Remember, their fighters can and will lean into you to slice your hull up with their blade-wings, and their plasma-based weapons are killer if they get through your shields. If the bleeders stop working, pull out and act as support or just grab a new fighter.”

“What’s the standard formation, sir?” The lieutenant asked, and I jerked my head to the side to see her giving me a funny look from the fighter beside me.

I shrugged. “Narrow V-Wing, as usual and unless I tell you otherwise. We’re supporting Gold on this op so don’t go rushing in once the fighting starts. It’s probably going to be a knife-fight once we get to the city proper. Prep liftoff, everyone.”

“Aye, sir.”

Gripping the joystick-like maneuvering rod with one hand, and the other manipulating the throttle direction, I took a deep breath and pushed down. San said, “Sync.”

Our engines roared, and the Wing pilots rose out of the metallic prison block. Blue ethereal flames burst from the ends of each ship, and a gaseous warping of the air fluttered into place beneath us. I looked to my right on instinct, watching Uske lead his squadron away and into formation. I sighed, flicking at one of the panel screens until the last fighter had cleared out airspace.

“Alright, Red Squadron form up on me. Our first action is to free up the frigates a little bit south of here,” I called out to the rest of them, pushing on the stick and throttle. My ship glided away from the rest of the group, the very air burning behind it, and the rest lined up behind me. I don’t remember what it was, but something made me call out, “Hey, San?”

“Hay is for horse-things. What’s up?”

Something blue and hoof-like wrapped itself around the end of my seat, barely visible in the corner of my eye. “For Celestia’s sake! It’s ponies!” Rainbow Dash called from behind me, in what would normally be either the co-pilot’s seat or “extra cargo” bay.

Whatever I had wanted to say shattered in mid-air.

“I hate everything,” I muttered dejectedly, turning in my seat to give a verbal lashing for the ages.

~=V=~

-SABOTAGE COMPLETE 5-1-18-20-8 9-19
-HAIL THE EMPEROR 1 12-9-5
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-EARTH COORDINATES SENT - END PROGRAM

“If you’re listening to this, know that I tried my best. I didn’t waver, and I did what I needed to do.”

“You can argue with my methods all you want, but you don’t have…. What’s done is done. There’s no use trying to change what happened.”

“There is, however, the matter of a few unfinished promises: my last mission. We had a good run, and it might seem like there’s no hope if you get this message, but… if you do get this, just know two things.”

“Firstly, I never break a promise.”

“Secondly, I’m dead.”

“You’d be surprised, Princess, but I start a lot of messages like this.”

Author's Note

New Lore Entries Unlocked:

(Lore Entry: San Uske's Plans)
San Uske did not earn his title through diplomacy, connections, or some other third thing. Uske is an admiral because of his supreme tact in combat and superior piloting skills. That being said, his plans are far less secure than his combative prowess, and rely on a mixture of luck, precision, and expendable infantry. They guarantee a high mortality rate on both sides of the battlefield, but -- while few of the other admirals would admit it -- they manage to keep everyone important relatively unscathed.

(Lore Entry: Project Nailgun)
Nailgun frigates have earned quite a nasty reputation over the years. This is not because they are necessarily awful frigates, but because they have a particularly awful range of purposes. Stationing on a Nailgun frigate is often reserved for the most detached and sociopathic members of the Wing. Why? When your job description includes "firing giant death beams to horribly disintegrate an entire infantry brigade" as well as "angling the ship so beams can split open an enemy ship's hull, releasing helpless crewmen to die in the vacuum of space," you ought not have a conscience.

(Lore Entry: Aaro Castlor's Piloting Experience)
Castlor has a certain reputation for only keeping one ship in a single piece, and that is his own Virago. Other flying experiences include a malfunctioning jetpack (home-made), a small, heavily armored corvette (heavy reflective armor melted off), a small shuttle (crashed into debris of a battlecruiser), another small shuttle (hostage situation in the pilot seat), a space-insulated jetsuit (crashed into a capital ship), yet another shuttle (crashed into a barren planet), and a derelict cruiser, the Memento (crashed at light speed into the Ravager). The Virago has not yet been crashed.

(Lore Entry: Luck)
The not-really coveted position of "luckiest man in the galaxy" has been one in dispute ever since the first Dectavian Crisis. Before the crisis, San Uske held the title in a firm grip. However, Aaro Castlor leapt into a dead-on tie for first place after finding a Derelict, reactivating a Derelict, and surviving a light-speed collision in said Derelict within a span of four hours. The years since have been a constant competition between the two to pull off the most outrageous, odds-defying stunts never imagined. This has resulted in several avoidable injuries and carbon imprints on just about every planet in Wing space. Note: This is only based on lists procured by tabloids in Wing space, of course. The actual luckiest man in the galaxy is a farmer several systems out of Wing territory. But he's not very interesting compared to Uske or Castlor.

(25) Promises Break You First

Author's Note

Well.

Before you read, just know that this isn't the last addition to the story - at least wordcount wise. However, it is, necessarily, the end. Would it matter if I listed out the events that were planned to happen? Would it be more or less fun if I spoiled things, even a little, and let people's imaginations fill in - at least whoever is even left to read this thing.

I never forgot about it, not until I left for college. Even as I and my friends drifted from the fandom, I continued writing on and off with the hopes that someday I'd relearn how to churn out thousands of words a day. I never did. I still love writing, just not writing ponies. I got a degree in it, after all, so there is still some fondness (and also the eternal disgust that comes with an author looking upon an earlier work) for what it was.

What follows is the 26th and final chapter of the story. After it will be two revamped chapters that were intended to reboot the story a bit. Which, obviously, never happened. They include some deleted scenes and author's notes mixed in.

To anyone who reads this: do what you love, and don't be afraid to let it go.

(25) Promises Break You First

-The Homebound
-Forty five minutes before The Spectrum Event.
-Ophelius, Gantoris
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“I want eyes on our forces up top,” Aaro barked, storming through the hallways. The ponies followed him. Even with one arm strapped to his chest, the alien held a space in the room twice his size. “Set up a communications network with the other ships docked and under fire in our area as well as any soldiers defending.”

He stopped in the middle of his tirade, turning toward an arbitrary crewman saluting along the wall. “As for you, get a VALK point in this ship in the next five minutes. Fab it new if you have to.” The man nodded, then sprinted down the hall like his rear end was aflame.

“But what about Rainbow?” Twilight asked, the collective bulging, adorable eyes of her friends seemingly begging the same question. “She’ll be okay, right?”

“Depends,” the draxian said, leading them up the Homebound’s stairwell and into the second deck. “From what Admiral San just sent me, she managed to sneak into Amber’s fighter instead of some militia pilot’s. In my professional opinion, at worst she’ll only get a little bit sick, even with the inertial dampeners.”

“I assume the good Captain Amber is an excellent pilot, then?” Rarity asked, peering around Twilight’s side. “I see no other reason for him to forgo captaining this vessel, if I may be honest.”

“You may,” Aaro said, stopping alongside a seemingly arbitrarily potted plant. “Blasted idiot, leaving this in the design,” he muttered, pressing a button on the wall. A mechanical arm jutted out, seized the pot, and dragged it into a small opening. He looked back to the ponies. “She’ll be fine. I’m not sure if Captain Amber explained this to you, but the Wing is iconic for having the best fighter pilots in the galaxy. Even those militia pilots he’s leading will have suitable skills behind the stick.”

A warning light bleeped on his wrist-mounted datapad. Looking it over, his eyes narrowed to slits. “I’m needed in engineering. Apparently the moron decided to try and install some new hardware in the middle of an invasion. Stay here. I’ll be back.”

“Got it,” Twilight said, moving aside. She turned to look back at her friends, lined up behind her like foals in school. Everypony kept their eyes glued to the Admiral’s back as he stomped off. They’d stopped just short of the bridge, where against all reason there was a large window - currently closed by a gigantic metal shutter - on one side, and doors leading to the captain’s quarters, navigation room, and a locked room they hadn’t been allowed into.

Inexplicably, next to where the potted plant was, sat a cushioned bench large enough to accommodate six ponies and one baby dragon. Nopony moved until Aaro’s echoed footsteps and inevitable shouting were muffled by the ship’s hull.

Spike hopped off of Twilight’s back to the bench, planting himself on the edge and propping his head on one hand. “Geez. What a grouch. I feel sorry for whoever he’s yelling at.”

“Give ‘im a break. This whole world is being invaded, remember?” Applejack said, taking her own place on the bench.

“Oh, right,” the dragon said, sinking into the bench and looking away. Half of his face found itself buried in the crook of one arm. “My bad for forgetting that little bit of info,” his muffled voice said.

Twilight sat next to him. “It’s okay, Spike. We’re all under a lot of stress right now. He and Amber are both soldiers, like the Royal Guard back in Canterlot. This is… to them, this is like how applebucking is for Applejack.”

“I want to go home,” he muttered into his arm. A lavender hoof slid over his shoulder, and Twilight leaned on him. The group seemed to collectively take a breath.

“We all do,” she whispered. “Nothing went as planned, and it’s high time we went back to Equestria. We are going to make it home, even if I have to fly this strange ship myself.” She quickly bit her lip, narrowing her eyes. “I’m sure there’s a how-to manual somewhere.”

“Just think of it this way,” Pinkie said, sidling up to Spike’s other side and giving him a lightspeed noogie. “We’re not back yet, but we’re going to be! It’s kind of like how you were eating breakfast this morning, and then suddenly-” She gripped Spike’s head and pressed it to hers. “Wham! Explosions!” she exclaimed in bold.

He pulled his head back with an audible pop, straightening back into his seat. “Right…. I guess that makes sense. Sure, things look bleak now, but we’ll be home in no time.”

“Unfortunately,” Applejack interrupted, “no time at all doesn’t exist. It’s gonna take all of us to get back to Equestria, workin’ together. I get the feelin’ we ain’t about to fly straight back without some kinda disaster, the rate things are goin’.”

“Well I for one know that together, we can face anything,” Rarity announced, sighing inwardly. “We redeemed Princess Luna together, stopped Discord together, and I’m certain we can handle this together, for as long as it takes.”

The group nodded in succession, a series of ‘yeahs’ and ‘you betcha’s’ wafting about the place like swarming butterflies. Only grey metal sat behind the window, lit only by the thrumming blue lines along the wall, but for the moment, the green grass and bright blue skies of Equestria were there. It was just as they’d left it.

Fast steps ended the vision, and all turned to see Aaro arrive from the stairwell, a deep-set frown in the middle of settling into neutrality. “Well” he said, stopping before them. “I am certainly glad that the bench he wasted budget money on is seeing some use. Anyway, most of the crew is in the bridge. Ensign Lilian was just in the engine room performing some sort of inspection on the power core, and those two guardsmen are in the hangar bay for the moment.” He shoulders drooped a bit, and he aimed himself for the bridge door. “Come on.”

One at a time, the ponies and dragon shuffled off the bench and into a single-file line only an intoxicated man or a sadist could appreciate. Twilight quirked an eyebrow at Aaro. “So, if I may ask, what was the problem?”

Aaro scoffed. “Captain Amber erred. He said he was putting in several modifications to the Homebound. He specifically said it was intended to make any future trips with your kind a bit more enjoyable. Pony-shaped chairs, more accessible bathroom controls, a more inclusive ration menu.” He stopped at the door, turning to face them while a code pad extended from the wall. “Security measure,” he quickly explained.

“So then what went wrong?” Twilight asked.

The draxian rolled his eyes at an invisible Jackson, and jabbed the access code into the panel. “He failed to mention the sixteen tight-beam cannons included in the ‘pony-friendly’ upgrade package. So much for subtlety.”

“Oh,” Twilight said, scrunching up her mouth and settling into silence. The door do the bridge slid open.

“Wait,” Applejack said, holding up a hoof. “That’s bad?”

***

I sucked in another breath of air, venomous words streaming from my mouth like an erupting volcano.

“Totally hear the horse-chick out, man,” San’s voice buzzed in my comset. “She’s a bit rough around the edges, but I don’t blame her wanting to see the legendary Amber himself in his natural habitat.”

I gagged, choking out my next words in a rasp.

“Hear… her… out?” I hissed, glaring perfectly round holes into the fighter’s cockpit view and into the storm beyond. My wide eyes swiveled, followed by my head, then my torso, and landed squarely on the stupid blue bird-brain sitting in my co-pilot’s chair. “If she was a normal civilian I would’ve shot her by now and dumped her over the city! I know you think all of this is some big joke, Admiral, but I’m supposed to be protecting this moron, not letting it ride with me on not just a potentially deadly mission, but a positively one-hundred-percent we’re-damned-if-we-fail last-ditch-effort?”

I sucked in another deep, stale breath, and faced the front. I’d managed to, at least, switch to a secure com-channel before the explosion; my lucky, lucky squadron wasn’t getting an earful of a man who yells at the galaxy’s most powerful people as a hobby, and shoots them as a job. Bonus points since the blue-wonder realized she’d screwed up and kept her mouth shut.

For a long while, long enough for the shipyards below us to turn into the docking area, San, for once, said nothing.

“You fucked up,” I said to nobody in particular, but I knew who I meant.

Clenching the controls, my pale hands turned whiter, and I sucked in through my teeth. Rainbow shuffled around in her seat. “Don’t talk, kid,” I snapped the moment I heard a sharp intake of breath from her.

“Man…” San started, his downcast eyes palpable even from where I sat. “I know it’s bad. Not saying what she did was right, but it’s done. Turn back now and you lose your ship, and we lose our best hope of saving the millions of people in this city, let alone the billions on this world and the trillions in Wing space. When it comes to command decisions, above all else-”

“- don’t let your anger control you,” we both said at once.

“Remember Hazar,” San finished.

“Jackson-” Rainbow started.

“Shut. Up. I am Captain Amber to you from now on,” I ordered, filtering my anger into my grip on the controls. It wouldn’t go away, but I would put it to good use. “From this point forward, you do not speak unless spoken to. You do not touch the controls. You do not scream when, not if, we are faced with a dire situation. You follow any of my orders to the letter and the punctuation marks. Am I clear?” I turned to face her, and she winced under my glare.

“Uh… were you serious about that thing you said you’d do to my wings and my-”

“Am I clear, Ambassador Dash?”

“Yes, uh, sir- Captain Amber.” The pegasus, to her credit, didn’t shrink back or wither down to nothing, but she did avoid my eyes. Lastly, not as if it were an afterthought, but as if it were her sole purpose in life, she said, “I’m sorry.”

I muttered, after a moment of contemplation, “this isn’t over, Miss Dash.” Sliding back into place, I ran my hands over the controls, hoping I hadn’t set us a few degrees off-course in my tirade. Both squadrons had slowed, on San’s order, and I silently thanked him for the extra time. “We’ll talk after this. For now, all I demand is that you stay safe and do as I say. I promised I’d get you back to Equestria, and I’m not breaking it. And… no, I didn’t mean it.”

San chuckled in a curiously light-hearted way. “It’s probably worth mentioning that I’ve never heard Amber make a threat he lacked the capability of pulling off. Something about honor.”

Shaking my head, I sunk down a bit in my seat. “Whatever, Admiral. Let’s… let’s just get back onto a normal channel and shoot some bad guys. We’re coming up on the group above the frigate-docks.”

“Yeah, yeah. For the record, that little ‘joke’ comment earlier, I could shoot you for grievous insubordination and dump you out over the city, but right now I need you to shoot bad guys… so, you know, stay focused, okay? People are dying out there - real people, not just statistics like we’ll get on the after-action report. That little bit of wisdom goes for you too, rainbow chick. This isn’t a game.”

“I know.” I did. Rainbow said nothing, and she didn’t have to.

“Awesome. Let’s get back on the main channel,” San said, no doubt flicking a few switches and sending us back to the land of the living. I could feel the engines rumble, and both squadrons increased their speed back to normal. In the end, it was all just “fast” to me.

“All elements, this is Gold Leader,” San announced to our insignificant few fighters. “Interior situation has been dealt with, and we’re about to engage. Squadron leaders will prepare their fighters. Isolating channels for check-in. Everyone double-check your kinetics and VALKs.”

I turned my head to the side, looking through the haze of grey clouds to the city beyond. Rain, rash and angry, smashed against the cockpit. Wind pushed and battered at my craft. I was nothing alone to the elements, but in here, suddenly, I could do anything. The good old tin can.

“This is Red Leader, Hero, marking in.”

“This is Red Two, Witch Doctor, marking in.”

Ophelius was the kind of city that when you uttered the question, “is it big?” a native would laugh and shake their head. I’m not an expert, but I’m pretty sure people have around a hundred degrees of horizontal binocular vision. It’s not enough to take in the city. Most of it is made up of towers, too. When they built to the edges of the territory, when the boundaries of the wildlife conservations finally sealed them in their little pocket of civilization, they built up, and they kept building up for years and years.

I looked out at the white towers, who once gleamed in the sunlight of the greatest civilization after the humans. Crafted with such love for the world, for life. Now clouded by the shadow of a nightmare’s fear, without a light to be seen. Everyone was trying to evacuate.

“This is Red Three, Action, marking in.”

“This is Red Four, Dock, marking in.”

It was so big, even up in the clouds and at the edge, in the dockyards districts, I couldn’t see it all. It stretched from horizon to horizon like the lower jaw of the planet itself, if perhaps the planet were desperate for a good dentist.

“This is Red Five, Hype, signing in.”

“It’s marking in, you moron. Do it right.”

The entire city fell to the darkness of war’s flame. It licked up the side of every tower and brought them down to its hungry maw. Bursts of unnatural fire appeared in the streets and buildings, barely visible through the howling storm. We didn’t have the manpower to occupy so much space, so that just meant they weren’t taking prisoners.

“This is Red Six, Salty, marking in.”

“This is Red Seven, Fish, marking in.”

White towers fell.

* * *

“Sector Eleven, Jamse & Lolith hit. Two buildings down, another critically damaged. VALK point there lost. VALK point at Talboro & Silas activated.” A dull, monotone voice continued speaking in the overhead, accompanied by a word-for-word ticker playing above the map currently displayed on the bridge screen. On it, inlaid in deep blue lines over a black background, sat the infinitely massive layout of Ophelius, somehow captured between four corners.

Like a virus, red encroached on the blue, building by building, block by block.

“Hangar A-Fifteen just went silent,” Aran announced from the communications postl. For the past ten minutes, she’d been counting down from twenty-five, her voice growing more concerned the closer to eleven they invaders got.

Evo sat at the navigation panel, currently dedicated to sending out various orders from one of the most powerful men in the galaxy sitting right behind him. Roland and Dylan stood at the doorway, while Lilian stayed behind in the engines.

Once active, the halls of the ship stayed barren and silent. Mechanics cleared out, most grabbing what they could from the armory and heading to the front lines. Guards stayed, eyes always around the corner, and anyone else around seemed to be preoccupied with monitoring things on their own.

“Message from Admiral Ganymede,” Aran said. “He’s been forced from his position near GOD-One by enemy air support. Admiral Zalthice’s apparently leaving the entrance to the docks to provide support for him.”

“We can’t lose the potential support of the frigates stationed in the docks, and that’s not even mentioning the civilian ships that are there.” His mechanical fist clenched, pressing into the chair’s armrests. “Zalthice is to return to the docks. Ganymede’s a big boy and can shoot his own targets.”

Aran’s eyes widened after a second. “He’s said for you to do something unmentionable with those rubbish needle-swords of yours, sir.” Her eyes widened further, and she coughed into one fist. “Um, his words, not mine. Sir.”

“That’s alright, Miss V!los,” Aaro said, pronouncing her name with the dictionary-like dedication to accuracy. “Just continue keeping an eye on things. Evo?”

“Yes, Admiral sir?”

“Triple-check that those evacuation orders are being sent through the proper channels. It looks like a lot of our routes are being attacked. Devoting resources to protecting them is draining our manpower and I’d hate to have to shoot someone over an info leak.”

“Aye, si-”

“Hangar A-Fourteen is down.”

Twilight turned from the scene, and the ensuing scramble from Aran’s newest statement. Seven chairs lined the back wall, fitted to support ponies and baby-dragons alike. Plush cushioning contrasted them from the hard-back seats the crew used; it was meant to relax them. Instead they shifted on them, squirming as if gravel filled the pillows instead of foam.

“I was so excited about helping redesign those drab uniforms, too,” Rarity mused, pursing her lips at the drab display of grey-and-greyer outfits. “They really could do with gold trimming near the bottom and shoulders.”

Applejack quirked an eyebrow at Rarity, then turned back to Twilight. “Sugarcube, how can ‘ya read at a time like this?”

“There is literally no time where reading would be considered inappropriate,” the unicorn replies, not looking up from the thick cover of a weather-beaten tome.

“Uh,” Fluttershy said from beside Twilight. Dirtied pink hair fell over her eyes, and she peered over her friend’s shoulder. “I don’t mean to push, Twilight… but I’m pretty sure there are. Is that a spellbook?”

“Yup.”

This time, Applejack interrupted. “Where did ‘yah get a spellbook from?”

“Celestia. Now hush, I’m taking Jackson’s advice and studying a shield spell.”

The farmpony blinked, mouth hanging open. “But we’re like a, a, a big number away from Equestria!”

Twilight grinned, stealing a rare glance at her friend and lowering the book. “I know! I never get to use big numbers in distances. I’m so excited Celestia and I got to test just how far we can reach each other from via Spike!” The smile stayed, but she returned to her place on the page. “But I really need to memorize this equation, otherwise it goes from a shield spell to a and-something-really-bad-happens-to-physics-but-mostly-us spell…. Shields are hard.”

“Hangar A-Thirteen just got pushed back,” Aran said in the background. Aaro said nothing, grimacing, but his eyes trailed to where Twilight sat, eying the spellbook for a moment.

Rarity nudged Fluttershy with one hoof. The pegasus, silent for most of what had happened, looked away from the grim spectacle that was the haphazard center of command. “And how are you holding up, dear? I suppose all of us are rather used to excitement by now, but-”

Fluttershy wrapped her arms around Rarity in a hug, and drew her in close enough for their faces to press against each other comically. “Thank you.”

Her white hoof, dulled by the harsh light of the ship, stroked the mangled remains of Fluttershy’s typically soft mane, and Rarity sighed before pulling away. “In all of this, and I forgot to ask you how you were holding up, dear.”

Fluttershy glanced at the ground, the hint of a smile starting upon her face, lips curling upward. “I’m okay. It’s scary, but I’m not hurt.”

“But dear Fluttershy!” Rarity exclaimed, shrinking down when Aaro glared over at them. She continued in an terse whisper, “You might not be hurt physically - besides the horrifying destruction of your beautiful mane, and how your nice coat seems a shade darker from all of the soot and dirt… and.” She blinked rapidly, shaking her head. “What I mean to say is that you can still be hurt in here.” Tapping a hoof over where her heart would be, she tilted her head at her friend.

“How are you, Fluttershy?” she repeated.

“Hangar A-Twelve is gone. Reverting to our Valkyrie Device,” Aran said amidst a flurry of motions. “Militia’s regrouping.”

“Scared,” she muttered, hanging her head. “All of this is so… terrifyingly big. I thought Canterlot was big when I first went there, and for a long time Cloudsdale was my entire world. I was happy in Ponyville. It’s nice and small there and there were never any world-destroying monsters that wanted to make eternal night or plunge us all into chaos!” She rapidly sucked in air, pressing her mane to the sides of her head. “I didn’t even know that Equestria was round!”

“What?” Twilight whispered from her seat, looking up. “How did-”

“This has been a learning experience for all of us,” Rarity interjected. “For instance. I’ve discovered that fashion apparently does not exist outside of Equestria, or... sewing itself, for that matter. None of us could have ever imagined some of the insane things we’ve seen in only a week.”

“Ooh!” Pinkie exclaimed, her head winding around Rarity’s and popping up behind her mane. “Like that time I got to see the kitchens in the big tower place!” The rest of her body snapped-to with a twang and she spread her forehooves out wide. “They had a batter mixer big enough to make like a gazillion cupcakes! Twenty-two times in one batch!” Wonder in the form of gleaming, twinkling stars reflected on the earth pony’s bulbous eyes.

“That’s nice, Pinkie,” Rarity started. “But this really isn’t about that.”

“Or that time with the teleporter!” She waved her forelegs around in arbitrary emphasis. “Tel-eh-por-ter!”

“We can already teleport, and when did you do anything with a teleporter on this trip?” Rarity asked. “Because none of us knew anything about a teleporter.”

“Or when that nice Uske-guy explained how he’s a clone of a clone or something! Equestria can’t do anything like that!”

Aaro’s head seemed to turn a full 360 degrees and his mouth gaped. “San did what?” He spun the rest of his chair around and stared at her. “When did he tell you this?”

Pinkie ignored him and performed her best impression of a two-legged scary monster, wiggling her hooves and everything. “Oo-oor, that time he said he…” she continued on, listing out a series of feats ranging from hunting down and destroying world-obliterating monstrosities to crashing a fighter because a planet was in his way.

“When did she find the time to talk at length with that Admiral?” Rarity asked nobody in particular.

“And how did the universe survive?” Aaro mused, for the moment distracted from his duty; a welcome thing, if the relaxed slouching of his once strictly horizontal shoulders indicated. The reports of destruction had briefly slowed from lightspeed to a mile per minute.

“Sir,” Aran called out. Aaro turned to face her, and she continued. “I’m getting a power fluctuation from-”

The lights ceased to be, and all was dark.

***

“Delta-Ten code, mark multiple down and incoming, over.”

“Confirmed. Interception in two minutes, and I’m counting a little over a dozen. Can somebody confirm, over?”

I drilled my eyes into the holo-radar, quickly counting them out. “This is Hero One. I count sixteen heavy fighter-craft, Kestril-class, same as in the Dectavian Crisis War. They’re swarming above our target’s position. Two squads of infantry below. Chances of anti-air is minimal but don’t take risks.” I glanced over at the collective green blips of my allies, ignoring the shuffling behind me that signalled a certain nosy pegasus trying to get a peek over my shoulder.

“Gold Squadron has what looks like sixteen over their target as well,” I said. “All Reds are to revert to Haze Strike formation. Contact in two minutes, and remember to fire on my mark. Keep the comms clear, stay safe, and remember, have fun.”

Slamming down the mic’s off button like there was a spider on it, I swung around to glare laser beams at my passenger. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I just wanted to see what you were looking at!” she shot back. “If I’m here I might as well know what’s going on.”

“Listen. You want to know what’s going on, then don’t look at the controls, look at the skyline and the rapidly disappearing buildings.”

“I-” she faltered, looking past the glowing controls to the fading, flickering, and flashing horizon. “I didn’t-”

“We have VALKs,” I said, turning in my seat so I could look her in the eye, even if she could only see what was behind the cockpit glass. “We have them standard. Civilians don’t. Regular people do not get a free pass.” I turned back around, shutting my eyes. “They just….”

“But I just want to help.”

“Oh, so you want to help now do you? You sound just like me when I was an idiotic kid. ‘I just want to help.’ What…” I sucked in a breath, shaking my head. The words tumbled around in my head, desperate for purchase in my mouth. “You can’t-” I choked back the inevitable expletive.

She reminded me of me. Almost twenty years ago, staring at the first spaceship to touch down on my homeworld in over a millennia, the captain and his crew stepping out and squinting up at the sun, light gleaming off their uniform badges so bright, and at just the right angle. Sequestered in my heart was that single, precious memory, suddenly exploding from its tomb.

“Okay,” my mouth said without my permission. “You can help. I’ll show you what to do. I could use a copilot in this thing anyway.”

Rainbow Dash said nothing, her mouth hanging a virtual explosion of amazement.

“Yes. I’m serious.” I nodded at the radar, a spherical hologram that turned with the horizontal of my ship, resulting in a slightly wibbly bunch of red dots in the far front, and yellow to the sides. I rattled off a few basic facts about it, meanwhile checking over the diagnostics of the local tin-can.

“Okay, so, just keep an eye on that and tell you if any of the red bad-guys start doing funky stuff, like trying to slip behind us?” Rainbow asked, having shoved herself so far forward she was on the verge of putting her front hooves in my lap. I checked, we had a full minute left.

“Not just that. I need you to also….” I directed her to a few power meters, designed to show, primarily, what system of the ship was under the most pressure. That included the weapons, shields, and even basic life-support.

The KT-44 Solis fighter, a whale compared to the sleek designs of the Wing’s older fighter-craft, was designed for one purpose, and one purpose only: to blow stuff up. On the forms and other official documents, I designated it a heavy fighter-craft with a very specific set of credentials that of course could be rounded up to “it blows stuff up.” Two rotund, tubular plasma cannons ran down each side, all the way past the frontal cockpit. A launched, highly explosive energy-based missile launched from an undermounted device, and could do so at the absolutely dangerous rate of ten per minute. The wings, engines, and what was referred to in the world of spaceship engineer as the fiddly bits, were all located in the rear.

It made dogfights, as San would put it, “hella cool”. That’s an exact quote.

“So what happens when those red dots get to our dot again?” Rainbow asked, interrupting me in the middle of my speech about the importance of heat sinks in a ship with plasma weapons.

“Well, I press this button, it locks onto a target, and then I press this button, which makes them go boom.” I pointed to each control in turn, leaning out of the way to let her see.

“I was just checking, since they’re almost touching right now.”

I blinked, and looked straight ahead at the mass of sixteen huge ships that looked like someone had made an umbrella out of rusty nails. Our two forces were flinging themselves at one another at an impact speed near the speed of sound.

“Oh.” I flipped on my headset with one hand, and switched off the safety with my other. “Go ahead and fire," I told my pilots.

“Good T’los finally!” someone cheered. “I-” Whatever they were about to say, I didn’t listen, I just fired.

The sound of the plasma cannons on a solis fighter had a curious whup sound. A few of the soldiers stupid enough to try to get on my bad side referred to them as whuppers because of this.

Whupwhupwhupwhup, they went, and so went the rest of the fleet. Blue fire sprayed out like a tidal wave.

“Are you trying to ram them or something?” Rainbow shouted over the noise and shaking of the cockpit. Bulbous eyes squinted at the onyx black abominations in the distance. A distance rapidly closing. She shuffled her way farther forward, her head placed next to mine.

“Sort of. Buckle in,” I said, letting loose another hail of fire. Each sailed past my target, a heavy vessel in the middle of their squadron, each missing by one millimeter less. “Ha! Yes!” A blue burst exploded against the fighter’s shields, followed by a few more for good measure. No matter how much tech you could pile into a fighter, shields could only do so much before they faltered and failed.

“Sort of?!” She hadn’t moved.

“Gold Squadron,” I said over the comms, “pick your targets and up your inertials. Backstab maneuvers, go.” Two more flashes on my target, and this time he’d spotted me back. Green retaliation poured forth.

“Evasives.” I twisted the controls, and the ship twisted around the deadly plasma. Rainbow thudded against the roof. “What did I just say?”

“I’m on it, I’m on it. Okay?” she called back, followed shortly by a buckle's recognizable click. “Ow.”

“Shut up. This is my favorite part.”

Gold and grey met black and green in the world’s most violent looking bird migration ever, as seen from the ground. I cut the big engines. We didn’t stop flying, but the humming ceased, and that terrifying knowledge of impending doom settled in the stomach.

“What did you just do?”

A grin spread across my face at the approximate speed of light. It didn’t stop there, and traveled down my face to my chest, a tingling sensation that merged with the previous anger I’d held close. “My favorite part.” My entire body grinned, thrumming with energy.

Pulsating fire erupted before me, arcing toward my opponent, and we stayed the course of our deadly joust. The only difference was that he was diving down at my ship at an increasingly steep angle. I mouthed the seconds as they passed. “Five, four.”

“You’re going to get us killed! I thought you were supposed to be good at flying these things,” Rainbow shouted from her newly buckled-in position.

“Three, two.”

She leaned forward, face pressed up against the side of my headrest. “Are you even listening?”

“One.” I yerked the sticks back and engaged my favorite in-atmosphere tactic: air-drifting. Sideways thrusters twisted our ship on any axis I chose, and at that particular moment, I chose to spin us around and aim at the rear of the black fighter.

“Gotcha.” I pressed a button of the large and inviting variety on the left stick, and green destructive force burst from the frontal cannon, right into the already weakened shields of the enemy craft. Amidst the ensuing explosion, what remained of the ship slowly fell to the ground in every direction, spinning circles in the dark sky.

Each of the ships in my squadron pulled, or attempted to pull, the same thing. Three ships spun out of control, either via getting clipped by the sword-like wings of the Kestrils, or out of their own incompetence. Everyone else either obliterated their enemy as I had, or did enough to overload the shields.

“Witch Doctor here. Confirmed kill, over.”

“Hype here. Confirmed kill, over.”

The reports flooded in, one by one. The fighter next to me, Gold Three, missed entirely with the last shot. “I’ve got you covered, Action, over,” I said, twisting my fighter about and engaging the main thrusters. My new target wasn’t stupid; he held the dive, and I noticed the few other survivors held too, reforming on the way down. The rest seemed to scatter in random directions, just begging to be picked off.

“Action, form up on my right flank and get ready to focus fire,” I ordered, cracking my neck to the side. Holographic targeting reticules followed a fast lock onto my prey, and even the inertial dampeners couldn’t stop the G’s from pressing me into my seat.

“Jackson,” Rainbow said breathlessly, similarly affected.

“Not now, I’m trying to kill stuff,” I hissed through my teeth, guiding my targets over the jittery lock-on and waiting for confirmation from Action.

“Um… it’s important, I think. There’s red-things behind you.”

My eyes widened, and I jerked my head to the radar. The supposedly random, panicking pilots were meant to look just like that, and now two had slipped under, and were likely looking through their own targets at my rear end.

“Action, pull out,” I shouted, twisting the sticks into an evasive turn. Two plasma bolts slammed against my shields, each time revealing the spherical blue field, but the rest flew past to the ground below. I leveled off into a wide turn, pumping the engines. “Thanks for the warning,” I sputtered out to Rainbow.

Action’s solis fighter turned in the opposite direction, then swerved into a corkscrew that ended with him pointed right at his unlucky assassin. I mimicked his actions, and pulled the trigger against the surprised face of my own pursuer. Five bolts, this time, but I took the punishment, because in the game of who-dies-first jousting, I’m a dirty cheater.

I spun to the right, just as Witch Doctor blew past, the remains of the Kestril tumbling through the air right behind, exploding a few seconds later. “Thanks, Witch.”

“No problem. I’ve got these stragglers, sir, over.”

We rose a bit, and let the ship level out. After a moment, Rainbow muttered, “Wow.”

“Yeah?”

“That was awesome.” I looked back to see her smiling the width of the horizon.. “Insane, but awesome.”

“It was easy,” I corrected, shooting her a glare. “We had the advantage and utilized it. There are still enemy fighters out there, and we’ve lost the element of surprise.” The squadron, arrayed like a green blood splatter across the radar, finally drew itself back into formation around my ship. White-noise reports of a similar victory echoed from San’s group.

“So what? You guys are all better than those idiots. You can win.” She shrugged off my glare with a smirk. “I have no idea how these hunks of ugly metal do their flying, but I know aces when I see one. Why didn’t you tell me you were so good at flying?”

I turned my attention back to the front, and made sure my squadron couldn’t hear what I said next. “I know these people look like they know what they’re doing, but like I said, that was easy. These aren’t Wing pilots. They’re militia who’ve only read about flying in these hunks of ugly metal and thought to themselves, ‘gee, those Wing pilots are so lucky to be flying in those beautiful pieces of machinery.’” I shook my head, the throbbing anger I felt toward the intrusive pony making itself known. “As for myself. I don’t like to brag, but....”

Unphased by my grim remark, Rainbow leaned forward, the smirk widening. “But what?”

I stared forward. For this entire event I’d been torn between being absolutely pissed at the entire universe and accepting life for what it was and rolling with the punches, being happy with them, playing along. I’d promised myself I’d give Rainbow a chance, and now I had the choice to either revoke that promise or deal with it later.

Her grin, virulent as it was, spread to me. “But before San made himself known to be the invincible sodding anomaly he is, I was probably the best pilot in the Wing.”

She laughed, sitting back into her seat. “Okay, cool. I will definitely have to ask you for some awesome flying-shooty stories after we’re done not, uh, flying and shooty-ing.” She swallowed. “Sorry about that, again.”

“It’s fine,” I said without thinking. I glanced over the status of our communications, speakers muted or reduced to white-noise flicking on and off in a corner of the display. The lack of response from the ground, especially the ships, worried me, but I kept my thoughts elsewhere. In the meantime, I waited for the squadron to form back up on me.

“But seriously,” she said, clapping her hooves together, “I mean, don’t take this too personally, but I did pay attention in at least flying class. I know my aerodynamics, and it’s pretty obvious your ship thing doesn’t, because it’s breaking them.” She paused and allotted me just enough time to quirk my eyebrow at the console in front of me. “So how in the hay did you seriously do that?”

Without missing a beat, I turned my head to her and winked. “Magic.”

***

“Extremely useful,” Aaro muttered, his face barely visible in the pale purple light emitting from Twilight’s horn. He nodded toward her in thanks, his good hand rubbing at his chin. After a second, his eyes gazed out to the crew.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling.

Every member of the crew simultaneously turned their flashlights on, bright orbs that glowed blue from a point on their datapads. Stark silhouettes sprayed across the walls, and worried looks glanced around the room, bar a smug looking Aaro.

“Almost a fifty percent increase in response time. Good job,” he said, standing up and turning to the crew. “Ensign V!los, reconnect us with communications. You two.” He pointed to Roland and Dylan. “Head to the hangar bay and stand guard. That was Ensign Lilian’s last known location, since she was in charge of setting up the Valkyrie Device.”

The two combat-ready ensigns saluted, their faces uncharacteristically rigid and their gazes looking through their commander. Twilight watched as they casually slung laser carbines, weapons of death, from their backs and jogged toward the door, expressions unmoved.

Aran turned back to her station, but with the hologram controls gone, she slid a portion of her datapad off her wrist - he top screen designed to look like a soft rectangle - and placed it on the emitter. A smaller holopanel rose from it, and she typed furiously on the hovering keyboard.

“Now,” Aaro said, frowning. “Ensign Evo, you have the controls. Contact me when Ensign V!los gets through, and for T’los’ sake somebody figure out why our emergency power hasn’t turned on!” He moved over to Aran, letting Evo rush to the desolate captain’s chair, and began instructing her in hushed whispers.

Rarity lowered her head and leaned toward Twilight. “Is this normal?” she whispered.

Twilight pursed her lips inward, then shook her head. “I don’t think so, especially because if what I’ve learned is correct, if this actually happened while in space, we’d, uh, be in real danger of... not living.”

“Correct,” Aaro interrupted, appearing from thin air before them and leaning over the purple unicorn. “Miss Sparkle, I’d like you to accompany me to the engine room.”

Twilight raised her eyebrows, searching his eyes for a hint to his intentions. Her friends shared the look, and Pinkie added a dramatic gasp and fake faint to mix things up a bit. “Why? Isn’t there fighting going on outside?”

He shrugged. “I’m going to the engine room to check things out, because I’m, you know, an engineer. One who specializes in generators far more capable than the low-tech fusion quad-”

“Fusion?” Rarity asked.

“It works like a star,” he explained.

Pinkie gasped again. “This thing runs on stars! That’s, like, the coolest thing ever!”

Twilight narrowed her eyes. “Okay, discarding how incredible that five-word statement is and the implications of dubbing it ‘low-tech’, if you’re specialized in something else, how will you be effective at diagnosing a problem with these engines?”

The draxian blinked, then narrowed his own eyes with double the intensity. “Just follow me. The reactors are heavy and I am missing an arm. Levitation is useful."

She rolled her eyes, but stood up and addressed him, albeit with buckets of sarcasm dripping off her muzzle. “Aye aye, Admiral.” Her features softened when she turned to her friends. “I’ll be back, girls. Stay safe.”

“You too, Twilight,” Fluttershy said, waving her friend goodbye. The admiral and unicorn left, the door sliding closed with no less finality than normal, no matter the heavy, sweaty air that settled over the bridge.

All that remained was Aran, four ponies, and a baby dragon only marginally more terrified than them and just as bad at hiding it. Normally smooth faces stared at unimportant objects, eyes stretched open and expressions muted with the seriousness of it.

A creak in the comm station’s chair drew their attention. “With the reactor gone, and no emergency power…” Aran started, just loud enough for the words to tickle their ears and force them to lean closer. “That means the VALK point is down. We had thirty militia soldiers defending topside. They haven’t reported in to confirm their status.”

“Which means?” Applejack asked, the tension in her voice winding upward. She stood up, looking wide eyed at the ensign. “Oh no. They ain't hurt, are they?”

"No, their VALKs would have locked on to the next nearest point. That's still nowhere near us, though."

“W-well,” Rarity sputtered, standing next to Applejack. “That can’t be the worst thing possible, could it? Those monsters would still have to get through to where we are, right? Does this vessels hangar not have that invincible metal door?”

“Nothing is invincible. It’s armored, sure, but it’s not even up, and without power, we can’t…” Aran stopped, her eyes bulging outward and her body tensing up with fear. “We can’t bring it up.”

“It’s a trap!” Pinkie screamed, bolting for the door. Aran followed, pistol gripped in one hand. Fluttershy, Rarity, and Applejack stood up and galloped out after the two.

Evo turned around in his chair, and stared at the empty room, then to his weapon-less holster. His expression fell, and he spun back around.

“Well okay. Here to man controls. That is only what Ensign Evo is good for,” he sighed, tapping at the useless hologram projector on the chair. “I…” he stopped short, propelling himself up by his arms and sprinting for the door. “Lilian!”

He blurred past the doors, the opening gap brushing past his uniform. Sharp footsteps pounded down the desolate grey hallways, and the bridge sat empty, other than a consistently light flickering above the communications panel.

Evo caught up with the ponies in moments, the group midway up the stairs to engineering. Applejack stopped, turning at the sound of his frantic breathing and relentless sprint. “Evo?” she called. “You okay?”

He didn’t stop at the stairs, choosing instead of leap down five at a time. “She is my sister!” he screamed.

Applejack’s pupils shrunk. For a split second, she looked back at her disappearing friends, each headed to Twilight, and then back to Evo sprinting down the stairs, two at a time. Without a word, she cantered down the rest of the steps, turned, and followed Evo to the hangar.

Blue light splashed across the walls of the hangar, centered on a few lone lanterns scattered across the ground. Sharp shadows slashed black across the walls from where cargo crates blocked the light.

“Evo?” Lilian asked. She, Dylan, and Roland all stood around one of the grey, square-shaped lanterns. The Fate hung from the ceiling above them, with the wheeled transport beside it. “Is something wrong? Other than the power, I mean.”

“Is trap!” Evo yelled, sprinting toward the end of the hangar. The blue energy field that usually blocked the exit no longer shimmered, instead replaced by the deep black of the powerless, empty building beyond. Only the edges of the bulky VALK point showed any signs of material existing beyond the ship. “We must close the hangar blinds!”

Evo skidded to a halt near the back right corner, where one of the rare manual, non-holographic panels sat embedded into the wall. The lights and buttons didn’t glow and gave no response when pressed. He panted, searching the wall. “Damn! We need power!”

Applejack stopped near the other three, who stared at Evo unmoving. “Are y’all alright?” she gasped, looking between Evo and his sister.

Lilian turned, narrowing her eyes at the pilot. “Of course we are. What’s he going on about this being a-” she stopped, standing stock still. “A trap.”

“The VALK,” Roland groaned. “We don’t have much time.” He nodded to Dylan, and they shouldered their carbines. Everyone moved toward Evo.

“Listen, it’s going to be impossible getting that thing lifted without power," Roland said. "We need to get to safety and wait for-” He jerked to the side, neon green light striking his shoulder like a train, or at least a regular bullet. He flew back as another bolt struck him square in the chest.

“Roland!” Dylan screamed, diving for his body. More green bolts streamed into the hangar, spattering against the back wall or the crates.

“Get to cover, all of you,” Lilian bellowed, her entire body visibly switching to a far more feral stance. Her eye glowered, her body straightened, and she moved with rigid, purposeful strides. Evo mirrored her, forgetting about the useless panel and springing for the pile of cargo crates nearby. Months of programmed combat training suddenly shone like beacons in their fierce eyes.

Sliding to a halt behind the crates, Applejack took in a few deep breaths. “We gotta warn the others!”

“I know. Dylan, send a message to-” Lilian stopped herself short, eyes widening. “Oh, right. Evo, you do that.”

Dylan crawled over to Roland’s body, the two hits against him smoking with a smell that tore into the nose and made her wish she had her helmet back. “Oh T’los no, please no,” she sputtered, stopping next to him and looking at his closed eyes. Plasma sprayed against the crate next to her, leaving a smouldering scorch in its wake.

Her land leapt to his throat, feeling for a pulse. “Come on, you big idiot…”

“Not here, sugarcube,” Applejack said, rushing out of cover to the prone duo. “I ain’t no military strategist, but I know this ain’t safe.” Her hooves slid against the rough ground, and she scooped up Roland’s form, letting him rest limply on her back. “Now let’s get outta here!”

Dylan shook her head, black ponytail swirling wildly, and jumped to her feet. “Go, I’ll cover you!” Spinning around, her thumb pressed against a lever on the side of the carbine, and she pulled on the trigger. Applejack watched from cover, Lilian already looking over Roland, as bright red lasers poured forth into the darkness amid the whirring, undulating mechanical hum of the device.

After the burst of automatic fire was over, Dylan let the gun drop to her side, and dove for the crates. The soldiers beyond the hangar returned fire, multiple shots grazing the ground behind her feet.

Panting, Dylan slammed her back against the crate, eyes drawn to Roland’s still body. “Is he alive?”

Lilian shook her head. “Yes but… Aran’s the medic. I don’t know what condition he’s in. What were you thinking just now, sitting out there like that?”

“I’ve known that man since I was a child. I am not leaving him,” Dylan snapped, lips curling upward into a snarl. “Besides, your brother ran down here to save you and I don’t see you complaining. Is anyone even in the bridge?”

“Uh, no?” Evo shrugged, eyes darting between Lilian and Roland. “Er, I-”

“Well that was incredibly stupid of you, not to mention against protocol,” she said, still staring at the prone form of Roland.

“I do not have pistol. Can I borrow-”

“Sure,” she said, unholstering her sidearm and holding it out for the pilot to grab.

“Ya know,” Applejack started, rubbing the back of her neck with a sheepish expression. “I ain’t one to criticize ‘yer policies, but ain’t it kinda dumb to put folk related to each other in the same, er, sort‘a military vessel on a mission?”

“She has point,” Evo said, inspecting the pistol. Not in a critical way, but in a way that implied he was putting off using it. “Who put mission team together was not the logical thinker.”

“Shut up, you three,” Dylan snapped. “You can ask the Premier when we aren’t getting shot at, and Roland is okay. For now, figure out a plan. I’ll lay down some fire.” The soldier cracked her neck, her grimace thickening, and turned past the crate’s corner, weapon at the ready.

Lilian nodded to Applejack and Evo. “She’s right. Evo, I need you to message either the Premier or Aran and tell them what’s happening.”

“On it.” He went to work on his datapad, typing furiously.

“Applejack, how good are you at moving heavy objects?”

The mare quirked an eyebrow. “You serious?”

“Do I look like I’m not?”

She shrugged, tensing her leg muscles. “Just tell me what and where.”

“‘Kay,” Lilian muttered, peering over the top edge of her cover. “The best idea I have is moving these crates around. As far as I know, none of them have explosives.” She tapped the one in front of her. “This one has medical supplies, I think. Or maybe extra bedsheets.”

“Ah hear ‘ya. Where you need me to push it?” Applejack said, eyeing the metallic square up. It was a little under the height of the pony, and a bit over half that of Lilian’s. Scratch marks marred the side where the loader had set it into place. Another spray of fire pelted the wall behind them, met in equal force by Dylan.

“Over there,” she replied, a finger pointed toward Evo’s side of the battle. He hadn’t fired a shot, or moved from his hunkered stance.

Applejack nodded, and without a word, spun on her front hooves, tucking in her back legs like a coiled spring.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Lilian asked, eyes bulging in alarm. “That’s not-”

Thwump. The crate landed next to Evo, teetering to one side before falling into place. The first of the middle column of cargo sat without a scratch. It now provided cover for half the distance between the wall and Evo. Another barrage of plasma slammed against the wall overhead.

“Ah, impressive legwork. I guess." Lilian deadpanned. "I don't have enough experience in the field to be a good judge. Also, uh, how is that possible?"

"Well, strength is one thing," Applejack said, sauntering over to the next crate in line for immediate positional transfer. "But if I just used my strength, that there buck would'a crushed the crate into splinters..."

"It's made of metal."

"So?"

Thwump. Another crate fell halfway onto the last, crashing to the ground next to it. "What I do takes precision. I done kicked open doors before without breakin 'em." She grinned at Lilian, winking.

"How?"

"Unlocked 'em."

"I…" Lilian trailed off, then shook her head. "I don't want to know. Thanks, anyway. This is brave of you."

"Is now the best time for sucking up?" Dylan hissed through gritted teeth, leaning against her cover. Her ink black hair laid across her shoulder, ponytail nearly undone from the chaos. "There's too many of them. We need a plan. One better than trying to not die."

"That felt like solid plan," Evo muttered, practically hugging his pistol.

"Well we didn't go through months of training just to get slaughtered like dogs!" Dylan screamed, now muffled by the approaching gunfire. She spun around and unleashed another autofire burst at the enemy. Vague outlines could be glimpsed of tall soldiers in masks and armor, starkly lit for mere moments by flares of green; the hurricane of bolts had no end. A stream of blue light rushed to meet them, but stilled paled in comparison to the onslaught.

"Y'all slaughter... doggies?" Applejack whispered in a hoarse voice, after a long moment, eyes wide.

"Just look around and think of a plan, okay?" Dylan said, ducking down right before a bolt of energy tried to get intimate with her forehead. Her hair bobbed up and down.

Applejack and Lilian frantically searched the hangar with their eyes, peering over their cover to get a glimpse of what could save them. The golden statue of a winged diamond wouldn't help - in any case it was cracked and covered with scorch marks where the likely bored attackers had vandalised it from afar. Above them was what Jackson had called a "Boreclaw" transport, equipped with its own mounted turret. The only issue was that the lock keeping it on the ceiling stayed put in the event of a power outage. The only other thing that could save them, and also the only other thing in the hangar, was the Fate.

Applejack stared at the vessel. No longer a stranger to warfare, though still an outsider, she could tell a cannon from a not-cannon, and the shuttle definitely had a cannon attached to the bottom of the nose. Lilian followed her gaze, and nodded. "The Fate isn't connected to the Homebound's power supply. If we could get to it, one of us could turn it on and use the cannons to do some real nasty stuff to those guys."

"How in tarnation are we supposed to get over there, though?" Applejack asked, eyeing up the infinite distance between their insignificant cover and the shuttle, an ocean of death separating them.

Lilian shrugged. "I don't know. Evo and I are capable of piloting it, but neither of us could make it through that." She leaned forward, sneaking a peek at the enemies. There were no more outlines, and the first of the masked aggressors marched into the light; he was promptly greeted by a couple of rounds to the chest, courtesy of Dylan.

"You've got crazy leg power. You could kick one of us over there," Lilian joked. "Wait," she added, seeing Applejack's look of comprehension and smirk of arrogance. "I wasn't serious."

***

"No answer from the Homebound's comms," San said, his voice alone in our private channel. We had just gotten done informing an incredibly haggard looking Ganymede that his air support was finally ready.

"Just get here soon," he'd ordered. "If we don't get the GOD cannons under our control again, we can kiss Starbase Maximus and our asses goodbye."

"Wouldn't be an issue if our impregnable GOD cannons weren't impregnated within two minutes of invasion," San had snarked, covering his mouth and uttering a muffled apologysaaaaaaa

Ganymede's soot-smeared face burning red, and he grit his teeth. "Just do your damn job. The last time Admiral Fenway reported in, he filled in a few blanks. They caught us off guard because there were already agents on this planet, ready to take our surface defenses. Without ground-to-space weaponry, we'll fully lose the high- orbital fleet in a little over an hour."

"Any good news?" I had asked.

"The Liberty Fleet, Alpha Fleet, and Special Forces Fleet are on their way and, if we can get that shield down, they'll respond with a strong counterattack. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to stop another push on my front." His communication line shut down without further ceremony, leaving San, Rainbow, and I all staring at eachother.

"He's gonna be okay, right?" she'd asked.

Now, we still stared at each other, this time with worry straining our faces. "You've got to be kidding me. Nothing. Not a peep." San shook his head, looking at his controls, averting my gaze. "Listen, I'm sorry, but we might need to just take our chances and commit to anti-personnel runs in the solis fighters. We have to leave the frigates if they won't contact us."

"They won't do any good compared to what a Nailgun can accomplish," I snapped. "What about Admiral Zalthice? They're in frigates too."

"Nothing from them, either."

"That doesn't mean they're dead," Rainbow stated. "I'm not used to your techy-stuff but losing comms might just mean they're busy."

"Busy being dead." San chuckled twice, mirthlessly. "Jackson, look, I'm sorry, man." He paused between words, and I could feel my desire to throttle his neck growing. "We need to leave them and I need to blow more innocent enemy soldiers up. It's addicting."

"I promised them."

"He promised us," Rainbow said, nodding. "I can't leave my friends behind, and neither can he."

San looked up, staring us both in the face. "There's no time to argue. Either you go down there and Ganymede's forces fail, we lose, and we die, or you and I go blow some shit up and save the world."

I turned, looking at Rainbow. She'd hit her head a few times on the top of the canopy, and her hair was scruffier than normal, not to mention the dirt and soot already smattered against her coat from earlier. Her friends all looked the same, and in her place I saw each of them sitting there, staring at me.

"Captain," she pleaded, eyes wide. "Come on."

"I am no oathbreaker." I nodded at Rainbow, and her look softened.

"I order you." San sat up straight, sticking his chin at me as if it were a weapon. In a way, it was. 'With the power vested in me by all that is awesome and also the College of Admirals. I have a rank pip more than you. Somewhere. Lost it in the wash last week."

"I promised them," I growled, ignoring his typical digression. "They could be down there in the middle of a fight for their lives. They could need my help."

"Gold Squadron is heading into the city residential block with the Ganymede our destination." He shook his head, frown deepening. "Follow me, or don't. They might need your help, but I do need your help. We all do."

I swallowed, turning to look at my "copilot." I had no idea what she'd look like - if she'd look betrayed, fearful, angry. Instead, no strain lines marred her smooth face. No crease of the brow or narrowing of the eyes. Only calm.

"Do it," she whispered, looking past me. "I… you're right. You did promise us, but… you promised your people you'd help them first. They need your help more than my friends do."

San nodded, his own anger seeping away. "Woo! Five San-points for rainbow-horse!"

"Very wise of you," I grumbled, turning back to face the front. My side throbbed from constantly turning back to look her in the eyes. Just as well, she'd chosen the one topic we could agree upon to switch sides.

"Fine. Send me the course vectors and Red Squadron will back you up," I said, switching on the alert beacon to let the other pilots know something was about to happen. "It'll be twenty times as hard without frigate support, but this is what you asked for, San."

San didn't smile, but one corner of his mouth twitched upward. "I would've asked for a blindfold and intense mind-altering drugs. Let's go blow up some bad guys and save the world."

The reorganization of Red Squadron's formation took a few seconds, some fighters drifted a few meters in one direction, and enough people a single meter off meant everything needed to be reorganized. I yelled a bit.

Pushing the Homebound to the back of my mind became an irritating distraction I didn't need bogging me down. I promised those girls I'd keep them safe, that I'd take them back, and that everything would be all right. None of them were severely injured, and the Homebound was ready to jump out of system the second the shield went down, so those promises were still intact. That is, if they were okay. But Aaro Castlor was the closest thing I had to a best friend in the big bad galaxy, and if he wasn't capable of protecting them, no one was.

Red Squadron neared the city proper, zipping toward the line where towering apartment blocks met construction dockyards. The sun set behind it, merely a few rays biting back the stormclouds that hovered over Ophelius. White towers turned to black, and the last light faded.

"Tactical night-sight," I ordered, taking a breath, "on." Instantly, the solis' onboard computer forced a holographic display against the cockpit windows. Buildings became outlined white, friendlies in gold, and the few enemy fighters I could see flitting between buildings like shy schoolgirls turned red.

I reached up and brought down a mechanical visor that stopped at eye-level, switching on to display targeting data over the marked targets. "Red Squadron, prepare for virtual knife-fight, over."

A slew of confirmations poured in, and I grazed over a few intelligence reports being fed through the targeting visor. Anything useful that could give us an edge or at least a warning. The computer AI, as simplistic compared to AIA as toddlers are to adults, filtered them by importance.

Number one, we'd lost half the city. There were confirmed enemies inside the Gantoris Towers. Orbit only held a pocket of resistance left. I scanned over the list of ships confirmed destroyed by the invasion fleet. I gulped.

"What's wrong?" Rainbow asked. The dim lighting in the fighter cast a dark shadow on her eyes, but it didn't stop them from glowing. She peered over my shoulder, reading the list. "I… oh. Those were… the ships you showed us around the planet, right?"

"Yeah," I whispered, slamming the switch off the moment another name appeared, because I didn't want to read it.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked, leaning far enough forward that I glimpsed her nose in the corner of my eye. "I know I shouldn't be here, and if you're still mad at me, that's fine, but you look pretty messed up. Just tell me what to do."

I lowered my head. We were on the cusp of entering the city, and the moment we did that we'd split apart, fighting what enemies we could while we made our way to the GOD cannons on the other side. Normally, we'd just fly over it, but the danger of getting swarmed or shot down by anti-fighter frigates was too high. "There's nothing."

"Okay," she said, sitting back.

"Just keep buckled. This is going to get ugly." I switched on the comms. "Alright, Reds. The lanes are going to be too narrow for an entire squadron, so you know the drill. Witch, Action, Dock, Hype, you're with me. Everyone else, you know your groups. Stay safe, fangs out, and happy hunting. Converge on the GOD cannons in five minutes. If you don't make it, you're-" Woosh. The roaring sound of six huge fighters speeding their way into a normally cramped air-highway blasted me into silence.

Reds eighteen to me hit the wall of towers and slowed down to the speed limit, which defined itself as fast enough not to get hit, and slow enough not to die. Whites, greys, and mostly blacks splashed into my vision, each building outlined by the tactical holoview. Audio-censors turned on and the roar receded to a rumble, only shaking the cockpit to a minute degree. Rain splattered against the viewport, barely an issue since it didn't stick around for long. "Slow" for a fighter still meant fast.

"Two red blippy things," Rainbow announced over the rumble, her head still peeking over my shoulder to look at the scanner.

"I see them, one block down, heading horizontal to us. Mark One and Two. Dock, Hype, Action, target One. Witch, target Two with me. Over."

"Yes sir." Witch brought her craft to mine. We'd broken formation, the alternative being slapped out of the air by a billboard or balcony. "Target locked. Reticles at Alpha-Zero, over."

"Two seconds to meet-and-greet," I announced, steadying the craft amidst the thunder outside. For this single moment, we had the element of surprise. "Fire." I pumped the trigger, two shots streaking into the night, lighting up buildings as they passed. Two simultaneous explosions marked the end of the outward patrol.

"Good job, everyone."

"Thanks."

"Sir, we've got multiple hostiles inbound. Ten to each group," a report crackled in my ear. "They're not brown-nosers, just snubs. It'll be hard in this weather." I jerked the stick down, narrowly avoiding an incoming building-to-building bridge.

"Whoa," Rainbow interrupted, drawing my attention to the controls. "That's a lot of red."

"Less than I expected," I mused, glaring at the swarm of red dots streaming toward us. "Alright, Reds. You're free to engage. Just make it to the rendezvous in one piece." I flipped a switch, narrowing the channel down. "You five, tail formation. Engage at-will. Don't engage in dogfights. We're on a timer, folks."

I clicked the comms off. We had a brief breather before the regular, non-heavy fighters engaged us. Snubs, as they were called, weren't shielded or heavily armed, but were perfect for knife-fights and swarm tactics. They had those two advantages on their side.

Well I had me on my side. The unofficial title of ace didn't just land in your lap.

I rested my hands on the controls, taking a few deep breaths and shuffling into a less comfortable position. Comfort on the battlefield meant feeling safe, and feeling safe in a fight meant being very, very unsafe. "Get ready," I said to Rainbow. "You bragged to San about your flying abilities. Let's show you what we have to deal with."

"Sounds fun."

"Our definitions of fun are in entirely different dictionaries, Miss Dash." I flipped the visor up and cracked my knuckles. "You'd be more at home in San's cockpit."

"If you know what I mean," San whispered into the comms-channel. I rolled my eyes. "Wink."

"Keep the comms clear, we've got-" I started, but three red blips turned the corner and zipped toward us along the air-highway. I snapped my mouth shut and bore down on the fire controls. Fire lanced toward the targets, a few shots exploding into the surface of an expensive, luxury hotel.

Witch and the others followed suit, sending their own shots down range. The lead enemy craft didn't stand a chance. I moved the targeter to the second enemy, and he exploded in a fiery flash, debris shattering the windows of buildings on either side.

"Big dot," Rainbow announced behind me. "Really big."

"Frigate." I grit my teeth, our combined fire smashing the last snub into so much melted slag. "This is why I would've loved to have the Homebound and the others as backup. Is it anti-fighter?"

About thirty lasers descended onto the city at once, pulsing and jerking with the motion of the frigate's cannons. Five dedicated themselves to our group, burning holes through the storm and slicing the sides of buildings. They weren't powerful enough to destroy a building in one shot, but it would shatter a solis fighter in a split second once it got through the shield.

"Nevermind."

"Watch out!" Rainbow shrieked. I juked left, avoiding a pulse from the unseen frigate by a meter.

Something exploded behind me, lighting up the buildings in front with a yellowish red reflection. Ice ran into my chest.

"Hype's down," Witch said. I looked at my controls. "His vitals are reading fine. VALK worked." She was right, which meant an annoyed Hype would be pouting in the hangar - if it was still under our control - until further orders. Now it was just Witch, Dock, Action, and me.

"Split up. Head down different avenues. I doubt it has enough guns to catch all of us and Gold squadron at the same time," I ordered, making sure all the Reds heard it.

"Roger that," came the general reply from the Reds, all at once.

Two more lasers descended, boring into buildings on either side. They cut an x through the air in attempt to catch me, but I rolled to the side and weaved through the leftmost as it passed over. The frigate must have been a ways above us and far to my left for that shot to work. That, or directly above me.

"I've got eyes on it. Dubbing it a Spire," San announced over the comms. "Captain, if you want to clear up the path for our boys, I've got a plan to deal with it."

"This isn't like old times, San," I snapped over the private channel. "We should keep our heads down."

"And let it pick us off? Heck no. I want giant explosions going on, man. Perfect opportunity."

"At least tell me the plan."

"I've got a visual of it, and it looks like there aren't any blind spots, but it's a frigate meant for non-atmosphere combat. We take out the engines, or even just one, and we ground it. Permanently."

I barked a hollow laugh. "That's a stupid plan. Because it means flying up there, and let me tell you something, San. I am a good pilot, but I do not like the odds of fighting something specifically engineered to kill people like me. That's not even mentioning the fact that you don't know taking out a single engine will ground it."

Rainbow coughed. We turned to her. "What if you made it come to us? Like, it's big, right. So maybe it will come closer if we go closer to the ground." She looked between me and San's image on the video comms hovering in the cockpit's corner, grinning.

"That's genius," San said.

"That's suicide," I said at the exact same time, narrowing my eyes. I let San continue.

"Just head closer to the ground. Way more dangerous, but that means the Spire has to come closer. Then, at the last second, we pop up and bang! Right in the kisser. Except with bombs." He grinned. I shot down another two snubs who tried to make a straight jousting run at me.

"Ganymede's not going to be happy," I growled. "Last thing I need is him on my case for being slow." I juked left and dipped into a dive, rain splattering against the underside of my fighter. A red beam sliced through the top of two buildings behind me. Debris crumbled to the streets far below. I shrugged. "Granted, you haven't seen slow until you've sent any kind of paperwork to him."

"What do you say, Rainbow Dash?" San asked, waggling his eyebrows. "Since Mr. Grumps here doesn't like anything, I need a second opinion."

"She's not part of this and has no military-"

"Sounds awesome. Let's do it!" she chirped.

I gave the order to the Reds and pushed the stick. Despite the weak fighter inertials, this was a heavy maneuver and the G's started rising. The solis fighter dove toward the ground level of the city. The red blip marking the Spire followed us, I noted on the radar. Its altitude lowered. The radar wasn't a perfect thing, and most of the time it just marked general location, but not for anything bigger than a fighter.

"It's working," San said. I just grit my teeth and continued the dive, jerking the side each time an outcropping threatened to dust us. "It's at the city canopy. Haha, this is great. Jackson, you take its right side, er, from your left. I've got. Uh. The other side."

"Thanks, boss," I deadpanned, leveling out and dodging another errant laser beam. "Witch, how's our casualties?"

"Dock is hit. Non-threat damage to left wing. Drift, Brass, Quirky, and Lefty are hit too. Hype, Fist, Silver, Chromehead, and Vicks are all down and grounded at the Hangar." I nodded with each name, recalculating our total strength down to just twelve fighters. Heavy losses since the mission had just started, and light losses since we'd been pitted up against anti-fighter ships and an entire planetary invasion force.

Come to think of it, where were the rest of the enemy fighters? I'd shot a couple down, but they had to know our position. By all rights, they should be swarming us.

The big, dangerous red blip following us pulled up.

"Admiral," I warned, eyes wide. I brought up a map of the city with a flick of my hand and scanned over it with my eyes. "We have a problem." Our GOD cannon installations were spread throughout the city in a defensive perimeter. Our fighter group was nearing the first of the installations, where Ganymede last called from. Each installation was a fortress unto itself, bristling with gun platforms and barriers. It'd take a dangerous operation or all-out invasion force to take one. They'd taken all of ours in minutes. That took serious planning. Months of it.

"Keep going," San said. "It's running, which is bad, but we have to get there before Ganymede gets himself in real trouble."

You can do a lot in a couple of months.

"Ganymede!" I screamed. There was no time, so I flicked my comms to his personal channel. "Get out!"

"What?" Ganymede responded instantly, an annoyed tilt entering his voice. "Why? Just lay down some fire on that bridge and we'll have the first of the-"

"They knew we'd defend the GOD cannons," I interrupted. "That we'd put all our ground forces into taking them back. We'd be all in one place." I swerved to the right, putting myself on the last leg of the flight. A block down, I saw the towering form of the GOD cannon in the middle of a field far too well tended to be government property. From a distance, I almost couldn't see the thin lines of laser fire flitting about the walls and layers of the tower. Ganymede and his men were somewhere on one of those tiers, fighting whatever elite force had dug in.

"Ah," he said, letting out a sigh. I heard the sudden, explosive sound of silence creep into his background noise. They'd stopped shooting. "So you're saying it's a-"

Green, wispy light burst from the building, expanding outward in a fizzy, crackling bubble that dissipated into the distance. The holograms surrounding me disappeared. Gone, without even a flicker, and then my entire control panel fell silent.

My engines fizzled out too, I noted a split second later. Eyes wide, I looked to my left arm.

My VALK was dead and I know it had EMP protection. I looked up a moment before the solis fighter hit the ground, vaguely aware that somebody was screaming in my ear.

The entire installation before us, and both two the right and left now lacked cannons, and everything else burned.

* * *

"We weren't sabotaged from the inside, at least. Your trap theory is incorrect," Aro said, a metal hand hovering over the holographic datapad laid across his sling. "At least, that's the only thing that makes sense. No sign of outward tampering. It's almost as if the whole reactor just… broke." He scratched his chin with his free hand. "Very curious."

"You. Don't. Say." Twilight's one open eye twitched. She sucked in a deep breath, her horn glowing white from the strain, and lowered the auxiliary reactor into place. They were big, bulky, and modular. They reminded her of the strange Valkyrie Device "points" the soldiers used. "And why is that?" she huffed, the levitation magic dissipating.

"Nothing. As I said, I'm an engineer in more advanced technology. These things were efficient for their time, but the only advantage they have over modern Octo-core…" he trailed off once he saw Twilight's blank look, and turned to Aran and the gathered ponies. "Aran, please head to the bridge and let Evo know he can begin reactor reintegration."

Blue lights flicked on across the surface of the square-like reactor, and the tell-tale hum of the Homebound's lifeblood returning to her brought a smile to Aro's face.

Aran nodded and went for the door, several of the ponies following her. Her datapad beeped, and she stopped at the threshold to look at the alert. "It's not right," she said as she opened the message. "The fighting sounds closer than ever, and they haven't reported… oh, no."

"What is it?" Aro said, his mouth tilting downward.

"They're in the hangar. Dectavian soldiers have breached the perimeter," she said, gulping. "Roland is injured. It's Dylan, Lilian, Evo, and Applejack down there."

The draxian's eyes went wide, and he searched the room. Twilight ran over to him. "What are you doing?"

"We're located right above the hangar. Aran, you take the girls and the lizard to the bridge. Lock the door. Twilight, go with her," he said, marching over to one of the empty spots that used to be occupied by the auxiliary reactor. On it sat an indention in the floor, marked up with yellow warning stripes. He looked around and spotted a control panel stuck to the wall. Aran led the others out in a hurry, only Fluttershy giving a last-second glance back at the two remaining in the room.

"Oh no," Twilight said, trotting over to him. "Sweet Celestia, no. I am getting my friends out of there with you. Applejack is in danger and needs my help."

Aro looked up, one hand on the control lever to the cargo bay door. His eyes scanned over her, and met her gaze. He held there for almost a minute, mouth wordlessly opening and closing by millimeters. "You sure?" he asked after an eternity, putting his mechanical arm on his hip and slouching his shoulder in a lazy, laid-back stance.

"Yes."

He pursed his lips, like he'd eaten something new and needed to decide if he liked the flavor. Like he'd done it a million times before, he drew one of his black, stylized blades and let it drop to the floor between them. The metallic clatter resounded in the room. Twilight looked down at it, then quirked an eyebrow at the admiral.

"Pick it up," he said. "Just, you know, not with your teeth. That's unsanitary."

Her face fell back to the blade before her, violet eyes checking in on every twist of the crossguard, every turn of the black leather on the handle, the spike at the bottom of the pommel, and the built-in battery that powered the tool.

Twilight took a deep breath, horn lighting up, and levitated the sword into the air, pointed downward. The only part of it that her purple magic touched was the handle. Inch by inch, she pushed it to the warrior before her.

"No."

The leftmost corner of his mouth perked upward, and he nodded once, and only slightly. "Alright." He sheathed the blade, returning his hand to the control panel. "Come on." Nodding to the spot next to him on the hatch, his smirk blossomed into a grin. "Hope you like dancing with no music."

Twilight let out a puff laughter, and stepped beside him. "Aren't we a little high up for this?"

Aro shrugged. "Nah. Just bend your knees and also catch us in your levitation thing." Chuckling, he drew a small pistol from its holster and put his hand. "Now would be a good time to reveal you've got an awesome shield spell or something, by the way."

The unicorn's ears perked up, and her lips curled into a smirk. "Admiral, I think you're going to like this next bit."

***

Applejack growled Lilian, a puff of breath blowing out her snout. "Goodness gracious, 'yer a stubborn gal. T'aint asking much."

The engineer shook her head and continued shaking it for a dozen seconds. "Nuh-uh, no way. You are not throwing me over there."

"Bucking, and it ain't that hard."

"No. Nope. Just keep piling up crates and we'll crawl."

"It won't hurt, neither."
Dylan dropped low, and stayed down. "There's too many of them. They're making their way into the hangar." Five shots of plasma cracked into the wall over their cover, and one of the crates jerked from an impact, jarring Lilian's shoulder.

She shook her head again. "The fire's too heavy, Applejack. Even if you chuck me, I'll be gone before I hit the ground, and then I'll be halfway across the city." Looking across to the Fate's extended boarding ramp and back to the earth pony, she pointed to Evo. "We need a distraction first, on that side.

"On it," Dylan grumbled, crawling with her legs and one arm, the last remaining limb clutching the SMG to her side. "My mark, you do your thing. Got it?"

Applejack and Lilian nodded. "Got it," they said in unison.

"Stay safe," Lilian added. She turned to Applejack, and the pony turned around so her back legs were pointed toward the dropship. Lilian positioned herself between the ship and the pony, looking into Applejack's eyes. "So, how do we do this?"

Applejack shrugged, quirking an eyebrow at her. "First rodeo, huh?" She chuckled at the deadpan glare Lilian's face sunk into. "Alrighty. Once that distraction starts, I'll buckle up like a spring. You jump up, feet first, onto my back hooves. Ya hear?"

"This is unbelievably stupid."

"Great. The rest is just muscles and a bit of gravity!" Applejack grinned, then faced Dylan. "We're ready. Let's get this hoe-down started!"

Dylan grinned ear-to-ear, clicked a button near the trigger on her weapon, and jumped to her feet. "Burn!" she screamed, throwing her head back and laughing. Evo, hunched beside her, flinched back. "Burn you spiny-faced freaks of nature!"

"Yes. Yes," Evo said, drawing the small pistol to bear and standing beside her. Arms outstretched, he yanked on the trigger, sending pulses of blue light into the encroaching enemy. "Be dead, you… people… dogs. Argh!"

"Yee-haw," yelled Applejack.

[And there it ended. I wrote nothing else at the time, so I will not finish it in retrospect. Applejack's Yee-haw is a pretty good sendoff, though.]

[The following were deleted scenes from this chapter.]

“Lieutenant Hockey, get those damn laser cannons cycled,” Lt. Commander, now acting Commander, Silus Ruck shouted from his station opposite. White walls, now stained with rubble and soot, lined the hallways of Starbase Maximus. Once intricate designed carved into the floor now were covered by bootprints and debris.

“I’m trying, but the secondary power couplings were destroyed,” the miniscule Hockey replied, his green skin coated with sweat that dripped onto the flickering panel in front of him. “You know, in that same attack that collapsed the bridge room two minutes ago?” He breathed quickly, fingers slipping as they wavered over the keyboard. “Oh man, the Commander’s dead. They landed on the planet, man!”

“Shut up,” Silus ordered, looking at the now fully-sealed door to the command center. “We’ve got to hold the line. Computer, bring up a live holoview of the tactical map.” He looked over the image that appeared, ships and stationed all displayed, accurate to the second.

It might as well have displayed a tide of red crashing against the few blue specks that dared to mark the map where the remnants of the Wing’s defense stood. “Those six Titan-class battlecruisers are still up,” he said under his breath. They were the biggest on the map, bar the strange, gigantic ship that was belting out the hard-shield. Despite the fact that he knew one of the things could destroy half their fleet, all stayed behind the front lines, only providing fire support.

“Sir, the engineers just reported in,” Hockey called. “Our GOD cannon is apparently in a state where they can repair it, but they’ll need at least ten minutes.”

***

Meanwhile, Twilight and Aaro stared at the charred wreckage of a reactor. They both recognized the fact that, normally, reactors are not black, smoking, and making tired groaning sounds like a slumbering monster.

“Can you fix that?” Twilight asked.

“I’m a part-time engineer and part-time second in command of an entire military,” Aaro muttered. “Not a miracle worker. At least not on Tuesdays.” He shrugged, and moved to the other side of the wreck. “We have to install the backup.”

“You have room for a backup in here?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow and swiveling her head to look at the place. The engineering deck shared space with the AI core and, from what she’d been told, the ship’s general databanks. All of it had been shoved within proximity of one another because, the apparent logic had been, it was closer to the power. In the corner nearest to the stairs sat two machines hooked up to bulky, cylindrical devices labeled “Life Support” that currently stood still.

“Yup. It’s like I thought. We’ll need to shove this thing.” He pointed at the remains of the power supply, and then to a thing, almost invisible indention on the floor. “Onto that elevator. It’ll take us to the hangar and we can dump it there. Then we need to move the backup into place and install it, which shouldn’t take….” He trailed off, then looked at her, eyes fuming. “And all of that while fighting for our lives. Almost had me going, there. This’ll be fun.”

“I almost had you what? What does that even mean?” Twilight asked, stepping back, furrowing her brow. “I get this is tense, but just tell me-”

Aaro’s hand, whirring with energy and various mechanical chirps, snapped to his right. His lips curled downward in a snarl, and his words were pursed, sharp, and dripping with disgust. “Your holo-cloaker technology,” he said, the fingers of his hand halting mid-air. “Was poorly designed. Every five seconds there is a dead spot that flashes near your ankle.”

A beep resounded through the room, and in Aaro’s grasp, a tall figure appeared

***

(1) Homebound Rebooted: The Captain

Author's Note

The following is the first of two reboot chapters that were never posted, which would've seen a general reset to the story. Combined, it's over 60 pages and 30k words. For what it's worth, enjoy.

(1) Homebound Rebooted: The Captain

The plaques on almost every desk I own read "Captain Amber." I didn't keep a plaque in my quarters, though; I knew who I was. I was tired, naked, and drunk Jackson Amber.

Nothing drives me to drinking faster than the threat of the worst sound in the universe: someone knocking on my door to tell me something horrible had happened and needed my attention. What were the use of state-of the art, hull-plated doors if they could be penetrated by mundane individuals and their incessant knocking?

I've heard it all, too. Uncategorized bugs from the Gateway systems scuttling through the walls of a ruined research station on the outskirts of known space and teetering on the edge of a black hole. I routinely sit through crushing silence during debriefings where the only interruption is a name being ticked off the mission roster. Men under my command. The displeasure of a madman screaming in my ear with a gun pressed against the other side comes to my mind when I think of sounds I don't like. If it's happened, it's happened to me.

Nothing is worse than the knocking, though. You are in charge, it says to me. Everything is in your hands and, quite frankly, if things go bonkers, it's on you, the knocking screams at me.

Someone knocked on my door on the third day of the suicide mission.

Worse, my hangover hadn't faded.

"Captain, it's urgent," my second-in-command said, or yelled since there was a blast door in the way.

I sat up, the back of my hand indented across my face, and rolled over on my bed to look at a mission clock hologram on my bedside table. Unlike normal clocks, this one counted down. The time of knocking, which meant the mission's next phase started, happened at zero. He'd knocked two minutes late.

"I kno-" I gagged, the words stuck in an unused throat. Coughing, I turned to the door and slid my legs off the bed, pushing an empty bottle to the floor. Vol 11 Empirium Whiskey from a shipment a poor smuggler died for in order to get to rich snobs halfway across the galaxy something exotic. I'd intervened and snagged a bottle for myself two months ago, out on the rim of the Han Wavel system. I might've also been the one to kill him. He resisted arrest.

"I'll be right there." My knees locked and my arms felt like punching bags, but I made my way to the uniform jacket hung on the wall like a museum display. Whatever tornado flew about the room avoided it in a miracle of drunken luck. I threw it and the rest of the uniform on, checking myself in a mirror which, if I wanted to, would turn translucent and reveal the void beyond. The gold pin set against my left breast, a diamond with a set of wings, annoyed me with a five-degree offset. I fixed it.

"It's time, sir. We need you in the briefing room."

"Give me a moment," I barked. I grabbed my gear: a holstered officer's pistol and my wrist-bound datapad, and slid them into place with hurried, jerky motions. Then I moved for the door, the holster clicking into place on my belt the moment it opened.

Artzian Boyo, the only other man who knew what the mission entailed, had stuck with me like glue throughout the ordeal. He performed the training regimens and recruited the crew from academies across the sector. In my opinion, he deserved his name on the mission commander tab in the report instead of mine. Whatever promotion or medal he'd get, he'd earned.

His slicked-back hair and gleaming uniform shone in the light, and his arm whipped up in salute the instant he saw me. A team of highly skilled scientists could, if asked, spend many hours on the subject and confirm it was the most perfect salute ever performed, and he repeated that salute every time I saw him.

"Commander," I said, nodding. "At ease, Art. We're not in public."

He lowered his arms behind his back. "Protocol, sir. That AI is recording everything not in your room or the bathroom stalls, you know."

I stepped through the door, and the glaring ceiling lights, intermixed with the blue power lines running along the bright grey walls, assaulted my eyes. "I know," I said, walking straight to a wall panel with one hand covering my face from the light. "I designed the AI and built the ship. TACT?"

"Tactical Advisor And Command Terminal, At Your Service," a monotone voice bled out from hidden speakers. It had a kind of lilt to its words that felt like it was starting a new sentence with every word. Immediately following the declaration, TACT's avatar, a mushroom-dome atop a cone, projected from the panel. Like all AI, I designed it to be recognizable, but not humanoid. AI laws were tricky.

"TACT, sir? Funny."

"A military is only as good as its acronyms, Commander Boyo." I chuckled, nodding at the flawless execution of one of the newest AI models I'd helped design. "How's the ship, TACT?"

"Running At Fifty Percent Of Full Capability, Sir. Notably, Advanced Navigation, Weapons, Shields, And Advanced AI Capabilities Are Offline. I Am Currently In Observation And Autopilot Mode."

"Prep 'em, and warm up the nav-systems. Also, please give a brief report on the demeanor of the Commander during the voyage so far." I smirked back at Art, whose smile never faltered for a moment.

"Yes, Sir. Commander Boyo Is An Exceptional Wing Officer And Should Be Commended For His Adherence To Proto-"

"Thanks. Make sure to put that in the report to the College." I chuckled, turning back to Art. "You're fine. I'm just the face of the mission, and the Admirals know it."

His shoulders drooped, and he let a full breath of air patter past his lips like a horse. "That's easy for you to say. You're the one who's safe no matter what happens, being a veteran and an ex-admiral. My career's on this mission."

I shrugged, and patted his shoulder. "You're fine. Now let's go reveal the big surprise of the year to the crew. I love that part of highly-classified missions."

One corner of his mouth tilted upward, and he nodded. "They're just cadets, you know. When I read the briefing six months ago, I was surprised you wanted them."

We started off down the empty hallway. Through the steady, bone-massaging thrum of the engines, new hums emerged. Systems came out of hibernation one by one. The air still smelled of sanitation chemicals and lights were still a smidgen too bright. At the middle of the ship, we came to the three-pronged stairs that gave way to the meat of the vessel, and I heard the steady mechanical whine of the gigantic turret over our heads spinning around. The weapons were working, at least.

I sighed. "I don't, but there's several reasons there's cadets on this important of a mission. The first and foremost is in case we need, ah, meatshields. Fodder."

He didn't blink at the brunt, almost offensive term. "I figured."

"The second is morale. Our men are bred elite, Art, but every once and a while they need reminding that even the lowest of our ranks can complete impossible missions. A bunch of greenies coming out of a mission like this reminds them what they're capable of."

It was his turn to sigh. "We could definitely use the morale after almost losing to the Empirium. Six months of peace means nothing when you're training for the next war."

"And now, it's time for the show. Got the briefing room ready?"

"The show's all yours," he said with a tone dry as sand. "Just remember. They don't know the true nature of the mission. I know I wouldn't be happy if I met you like this, legend or not."

I pursed my lips, and we walked into the meeting room side-by-side. The walls were a blank sheet of grey, lacking the blue lines that ran along the rest of the ship. At a moment's notice, they could be switched from grey to black. It helped with holo-presentations.

Sitting at attention were the Homebound's crew: the seven cadets of such highly specialized backgrounds they could pass for veterans in any other spacefaring military. They'd trained for around five months for this moment, unaware of the true mission ahead. Art told them they were essential members of the operation. He lied on my behalf.

Recognizing their faces and forgetting their names, I sat down at the elongated hexagon-shaped glass meeting table. All in all, we'd wrapped up a variety of species in our scheme. Only two of them were like me and Art, human variants, or human-v's - a member of a species not human, but close enough to one another that making up a million different names became daunting. The rest were all different aliens I could list off like the fingers on my hand. I just didn't care.

I narrowed my eyes and flattened my palms on the glass. They collectively widened theirs.

"Captain Amber?" one of the human-v's asked. I nodded, slowly.

"It's time you learn just why you're here," I announced, straightening up. "The only thing you know are the many, many training sims we put you though and the fact that we left port in the Omega system. We are effectively out of Wing territory."

"Ship's been in warp for days now," one of them said, holding one hand out, palm-up, in exasperation. "I'm fine with the secrecy, but we'd have to be halfway across the galactic arm by now."

I shook my head. "The Homebound is currently heading toward a remote location - even by galactic scale - directly galactic-south of the Orion Spur. Anyway, I should give you a formal welcome to the Homebound, even if you've been in her for days." I hit a button on the master panel in front of me, jutting up slightly from the rest of the table. Lasers whirred to life for the first time, twisting and turning into position in the table's middle. They wove into being a to-scale, perfect hologram of the ship, just over a hundred meters long from hangar-to-nose reduced to half a meter.

"You are aboard the E.S.S. Homebound Kaiden-mark-196. The only one of its kind in the galaxy. Image doesn't show it, but you all saw the FP-Ring we're attached to when you came aboard." I pressed another button, and an oval-like ring of bulky, box-like construction wrapped its way around the miniature ship.

One of the cadets raised his hand, and I let him speak. "Sir, FP-Rings are for one-time, long range missions. Meant to give another source of fuel and power to the...." He swallowed, eyes flitting between the other cadets. "I, um… how long exactly is this mission going to take?"

I looked at him. "You are?"

"Cadet Roland, sir. I run the main cannons and am trained in small-arms combat and some close-combat melee."

Nodding, I leaned forward and answered, "I know. I read the report on you that the commander sent me. The length of the mission is undeterminable. I hope you said goodbye to your families. Not in an 'I'm going to die, I love you' way, just a- nevermind."

He and a few of the cadets sat back in their chairs, eyes widening. "You can't be serious."

I sat back and nodded again, this time slowly so he could understand it. Another one of the cadets, a female engineer, spoke up. "Okay, but where exactly are we going?"

"That's classified," Art scooted forward in his seat and put his hands on the table. "Even I don't know that. Can I show them the briefing, sir?"

"Go ahead. S'long as I get to narrate in my spooky voice," I said, smirking. He pressed a button and the lights seemed to reverse, plunging the room into darkness - even the walls changed. The hologram of the ship disintegrated, the stray particles reforming into a floating, spinning, 3D starmap of the area around Omega.

"Right after the war with the Empirium," I began, leaning forward and sticking a finger into the mess of blue stars and nebulas. "Omega, here, detected a burst of anomalous energy by some lucky positioning of a sensor. It lasted for exactly one point sixty-zero-nine seconds before blipping away. Just long enough to trip an alarm and get the military involved."

"What was it?" I asked them, seeing their concentrated faces through the dim blue light. "The readings were strong for that one and a half second. The scientists on Starbase Omega mapped it out and learned nothing. The readings were chaotic, random, senseless, but they think it was an explosion or series of explosions."

"Wait," one of the cadets interrupted, shaking her head. "We're going on a top secret, highly important mission for an explosion? Couldn't it have just been some idiot crashing into dead-space debris at near-light speeds? The hell is-" I held my gaze against hers, and raised one hand in a bid for silence. She abided.

"The explosion was the size of the average heliosphere around a small star," I shot back, loud enough to draw the attention of the entire room. Art stared at me, bug-eyed. The woman next to Roland gasped, her hand shooting to her mouth.

"A whole solar system," the commander breathed, plopping back into his chair.

I pressed the button, and a small, elongated, flattened sphere faded into the map a foot from any system. Smack dab in the middle of dead space. "A bomb the size of an entire solar system, they thought. That's why the military got involved. We created Operation Star Death and made it our goal to get to the location. Within a week, the first probe arrived. Commander?"

Art pressed the button on his side, and the starmap warped into a holovideo. In the background, the voices of a few scientists mumbled in anticipation. The probe, a man-sized tubular object, shot through space.

"LAS 12-9 is exiting the jump," an old voice said. A moment later, the probe's surroundings snapped into the familiar starmap, this time projected as a 2D sphere interior. "We're a light-hour away from the edge of the anomaly, as predicted."

"Sir, something's wrong. I think the forward optical scanner is malfunctioning." The probe's view swiveled to the front. Within a moment, the entirety of the stars and nebulas stopped, as if they were erased.

"Negative, control. Probe is reporting green on everything."

"Explain that, then?"

I cut the feed off with a flick of the hand, sending the holovid fizzing into nothing. Taking a deep breath, I looked at the wide, enamored eyes of the crew. "After some time," I started, switching back to the hologram of the starmap, oval and all, and continued, "they determined that it was, in fact… a physical object."

"That's impossible," the engineer woman blurted out, leaning forward. "There's not enough solid mass in the galaxy to coat a space that big, and no energy source big enough to hold up a shield."

"What about psychic energy?" Roland asked.

"No," I answered, shaking my head. "On all accounts. It's not solid matter or any known energy. That's what the probe found out, at least, before they sent it in on a contact trajectory."

The cadets sat up straight, a few whispering to each other. I let them, for a few seconds, but interrupted with a cough. "The recording is classified, but all you need to know is that the probe made it through whatever material the anomaly is made of. Thus, we hope, so will the ship."

Roland chuckled, and laid back in his seat. "Sweet."

"Not sweet," the outspoken engineer said. "Sir, do we have any idea what's beyond the anomaly, er, barrier, or whatever it is?"

I shook my head and pressed a button. The hologram dissipated into a million tiny dots, and the room's lights switched on and brightened - slow enough to not blind us, as designed. "That is the reason for your high variety of training and the versatile nature of the Homebound. The facts suggest it is a barrier hiding the existence of a hitherto unknown solar system. It could be anything, so we are prepared for anything."

"Question," the engineer asked, raising her hand in a mockingly fast way. She didn't wait for me to give permission. "What if it's a marauder? Or a massive, instant-death fleet of dreadnoughts?"

Taking another deep breath, I bobbed my head, eyes trained on the ground. "A hard question to answer." I stood up, looking at the harried group of cadets. "But it does have one. No matter what's behind that anomaly wall, we're going to face it. It is, without a doubt, a suicide mission."

That last bit didn't seem to help. A couple of the crew shrunk back, glancing at the others with a strained face. I went on, unabashed. "That's just it, though. The College is quick to label any obviously dangerous mission a suicidal one. I myself have been on over twenty so-called 'suicide missions' and, as you can see, I'm still here."

I wrapped my hands behind my back, and puffed out my chest. Chin high, I went on, "There will be danger, but the key to overcoming it is in you. Whole armies can be held back by brave enough men, and you will be no exception. Take heart, for the best of the Wing is with you in spirit. We may go into the darkness, the unknown, but we go without fear. In a few minutes, the ship will arrive at the edge of the anomaly. TACT will give you specific pre-entry assignments. Carry them out well, because there's no going back." I snapped into a salute. "Good luck. I will be on the bridge in five."

One by one, the cadets marched out of the room. A few did so with grim, strained eyes, but others took my advice and steeled themselves, returning my salute on the way out. I held myself to be an honest man, and I hadn't lied. The mission, fraught with unknown variables, appeared more dangerous than it might've been. I had low hopes only because it spared me the disappointment.

"I think you did good, Captain," Artzian said, pushing a few of the chairs back into place. The room still reeked of sanitizer, and stung my eyes. "Though you might've unintentionally revealed a disciplinary issue I must've missed. I'll take care of it. Hey, TACT, you up to full capability yet?"

"Yes, Commander Boyo. I Am Successfully Operating At A Hundred Percent. The Homebound Is Operating At Ninety-Nine Percent," the overhead voice answered.

"Awesome, good job. I'll be up on the bridge in a moment. Captain, you coming?" The commander moved for the door, uniform gleaming in the glaring light.

"I wouldn't miss it, Art." Smiling, I patted him on the shoulder before he left, strutting down the hallway like he owned the ship. I turned to the panel, and TACT appeared, as if he knew what I was thinking. "TACT."

"Yes, Sir?"

"How, uh… how's the coordinates and mission material datapacket you received last night?"

"Stored And Awaiting Your Inspection, Sir."

"Excellent. Any of the crewmembers try peeking into your core?"

"No, Sir. Crew Behavior Is Within Range Of Protocol Toleration Levels."

I nodded, satisfied, and moved to leave. The door opened, but I stopped. "One more thing, you don't need to call me 'sir' all the time. It's annoying, frankly."

"Understood, Sir. I Would Like To Remind You That I Am Designated 'TACT', Not 'Frankly.'"

Spinning on my heel, I scowled, muttering, "I hate AIs. Bloody useful things, though." I kept my head up, my back arched, and my arms behind me. The bridge, and the mission, awaited.

~=V=~

The Homebound jolted. My muscles tensed, absorbing the gravitational shove that even the inertial dampeners couldn't stop. I gripped the armrests of the captain's chair, sliding forward an inch.

"Clean warp entry. No trail. No leak," the pilot, Evo, droned. "We are nearing zero velocity."

"Scanners're done with optical star-vectors. We're at the place, alright," another one said from his post. It was the draxian who interrupted me earlier.

My eyes looked over the bridge. It was big for the ship's size, but for good reason. Less crew meant more control was needed. Slave-circuits ran through the ship to the bridge consoles, where the crew could control nearly everything. In a pinch, TACT could even compensate for a crew for a little while.

The command chair, which could function as a pilot's if I felt adventurous, sat in the middle, on a raised peninsula with two short stairs on either side. Behind it were two more panels, and to the sides, two more. The depression in the bridge held panels on all sides, with the navigator and pilot directly in front of me.

Art turned from his position in the navigator's console. "Should I bring the shutters up, Captain?"

"Not yet. I want system double-checks from everyone. TACT, I want you to triple check. Pilot, disengage FP-Rings and maneuver two hundred meters toward the anomaly."

He spun back around, nodding. I clicked a button on the chair arm's side, summoning a series of flat holopanels depicting, in data form, the entire ship and some of the surrounding area. The ship jerked again, but this time with a mechanical rumble.

"FP-Rings disengaged," the pilot said in a thick accent. "There is fuel and power enough for return trip home, er, if we make it, I mean."

"We will," I said, shuffling the panels with a few waves of the hand. "Right now, focus on the mission. How's our two crewmembers in engineering?"

"They're reporting full fuel levels and power up the wazoo, Captain," the man at the comms panel said, grinning. "Everything else is green enough to be a plant."

I rolled my eyes, but continued pouring over the data. They weren't lying; TACT confirmed all the reports and that said, without a doubt, we were as prepared a ship could be. I pushed the panels aside and looked to the scanner console. "Sync up the anomaly's signature with the pilot, please. I want to know the live distance between us."

"Feed is up," the pilot said a moment later, nodding. "We are two kilometers out."

"Alright," I muttered, leaning forward and placing a hand to my chin. "Open the shutters."

"Lifting the veil," Art said, eyes glued to the bridge window even as one arm moved to open it.

A mechanical whirring sang through the ship's hull, and a metric ton of armor casing rose up from in front of the window. Under normal circumstances, a camera feed projected the image of the outside world, but a special occasion warranted the naked eye.

It swung open, and all breath seeped out of my lungs in a slow, dying rasp.

"W-what the hell?" one of the crew sputtered, among a few stronger curses from a few weaker crewmembers. "It's real?"

"I knew to expect it, but still. Are we looking at the right thing? It lifted, right?" Art asked, turning back to me. "It's just… black. There's nothing."

A few of the crew looked to me too, so I forced my mouth closed. "It's the anomaly."

"It's massive," Art breathed.

"It's the size of a solar system. It's way bigger than massive." I let the seconds tick by, and without fail, every member of the crew halted, still to the bone. "If we pitched a bit, you could see where it ends. But we can't deviate. Bring up the shutters. TACT will have the velocity calculations for you, pilot."

"Already have them," the pilot said, jerking into motion. The blackness disappeared, and it pressed the figurative play button on the paused bridge scene. Cadets scurried from console to console, passing data and locking down systems for the inevitable unknown to strike, whatever it would be. "Breaching velocity is good. Twenty seconds."

I blinked, the color falling from my face to the pit of my stomach. "Twenty? It should be a full minute."

"Ship says t- er, ten," the pilot replied, turning to look back at me.

Sitting up, I barked, "Reverse, now. Do it!" The visual representation on the bridge screen showed blackness still, but it was blackness we were approaching at extremely fast speeds.

"Engines are not responding!" the pilot cried, hands blurring across the controls. "There is no response to bridge!"

"Brace!" I shouted, gripping the armrests. Black light swept the bridge, my eyes watered, and we dove in.

~=V=~

"Diagnostics!" Individual syllables fell out my mouth in lumpy, over-enunciated piles, slang I'd forgotten intermixed. "Where the sodding hell is my report? Sound off, the Commander first, you pillocks."

Artzian heaved a bit of broken fluorescent light off his console, and I heard the tear of his uniform when it caught on the debris. "Sir," he panted, cracking a salute that left a bloody print on his forehead. "We've lost navigation. Er, for the moment. And there's glass all over me."

"Weapons are offline," a cadet said. Metal strained against metal, and we all perked our ears to the ceiling. "That sounds bad."

"Shields are offline and hull integrity is unknown, but I think we just got rustled, not bustled," the woman next to him said. "And by that I mean we're fine, and not dead."

"Engineering is reporting power conduit failure to several systems due to simultaneous power overload. Safeties kicked in on everything, that's why it's all down," the communications controller said, his feet planted flat on the ground and eyes firmly locked to the blue screen. "I think it stopped."

"Sir, kinetics spiking-" The ship screamed, slamming me into my seat and scattering the bridge. Artzian flew backward, tilting sideways, and landed atop Roland. A couple managed to grab onto a railing or their armrests, but jolted nonetheless.

"I need scans and visual," I barked, sucking in air like a drowning fish. "What in the blazes is going on?"

"We're just getting scanners online, but I'd hazard that we're… probably in orbit." Art said, pushing himself up. He paused to reach down and lift Roland by the arm, then jogged back to his newly cleared terminal. "That, or a black hole. Or in orbit of a black hole."

"Reroute power to engines and scanners."

"Done, scanning in a hundred kilometer radius," Art called back. "Ah, hey, sir. Good news. It's not a black hole. It's a moon."

"That's a planet, Art," one of the crew blurted out from beside his terminal. It was a red-skinned draxian who I'd seen asking help from other crewmembers to get cans from the top shelf in the ship galley. Dusty rose burned crimson on his chiseled face, marred by a couple of glass cuts.

I turned to look at him and did my best impression of myself. "Care to repeat that?"

His lips pursed, and he let the words marinate on his tongue before serving them. "That is a planet, sir. I'd recognize it. A small one, at least."

"He's correct," Artzian said, ignoring my rising temper and his insubordination. "It's a dwarf planet. I think… two moons, maybe? I'm just pinging it right now; no visual."

"Fair enough. How's the power situation going?"

"They're replacing a couple of burnt fuses and cycling to the reserve generator for a bit. All systems should be green," the communications officer said, one hand brushing at his bloody face. "In a few moments, at least."

I nodded, bringing up my own datafeed with a wave of my hand. Individual systems on the ship sputtered to life, and the red emergency lights faded into a static, dull-blue that got in your nose and made you cough - maybe that was just the smoke the fans didn't catch. The AI light blinked green, and the warm, stoic voice of over-enunciated-ness greeted me.

"TACT Online. Emergency Detected. Orders?"

I held my hand to my mouth, sliding my index finger across my upper lip. My gaze dragged across the screen until I saw what I wanted. "TACT? Can you take the ship and pitch us ninety degrees bridge-south? Then give me visual."

Art looked up from his console, both eyebrows touching one another. I could see a question form, then fall away. The woosh-silence-woosh of the "autopilot" sang throughout the bridge. The thrusters pushed, then pulled an equal amount. One of my lips curled upward.

Then the big screen flickered to life. Below us, or rather, in front of us sat the entirety of the galaxy. The galactic arm swirled out, cloudy wisps scattered across the stars. It wasn't right.

"That's not how the galaxy looked when we left," I said. Several of the far-off blue and green nebulae I noted before we hit the anomaly weren't there, and the gaseous arms of the galaxy itself snaked in different directions, as if we'd been turned around. "TACT, open up the database and look through our starmaps. Find out where we are."

"Attempting To Triangulate Vessel Location."

"Good on 'ya." I looked to Boyo. "Commander, check the long-range scans for any ships. If we haven't been noticed, you and anyone else with injuries need to get to the medbay immediately."

"Sir." He saluted, and another red print of his hand's side stayed on his forehead.

The feed on my holopanel jittered with a steady flow of information. Scans detected a small body near us, and we were in its equally small gravity well. Not enough to pull us to our demise, I realized. We'd crash if left to our devices in the next three days.

I kept my eyes on the section of my holopanel dedicated to the scanners. Specifically, on the tabs for planet type, heat, and signs of life. A louder alert would sound in the case of ships. The sector of space finished. Two moons orbited the planet we were near. A couple of minor dwarfs out in the distance. The scanners expanded. Somewhere above me, a platform rose above the ship, spinning at a hundred revolutions per second in effort to grab every detail of everywhere.

It had two tasks, to use a 3D star-chart in our memory banks and compare it to star formations around the ship. Theoretically, the device would use recognized constellations and triangulate our approximate position. A last-ditch effort employed by explorers or those unfortunate enough to force a quick-jump into unknown space, it was inefficient and inaccurate on a pinpoint scale. For judging what solar system we were in, it'd work perfect. The second task was mapping out the system itself.

I checked off the planets as they were discovered, one by one, in order of whatever came between us and a distant yellow sun. A dot, indistinguishable from most stars to the naked eye. Then, the program organized them from outermost to innermost. Then, it scanned them further, and went from detecting bodies to studying them, finding water, gasses, even general surface formations.

I watched. Gas giant. Gas giant. Inhospitable rocks added themselves to the list in the millions at a halfway mark between us and the star, so an asteroid field could be counted on. Small, good size for life and within the green zone. Nothing. Barren, and a pitiful magnetosphere that left the surface irradiated.

I let the scanner pause on the tiny reddish planet, doing a deep-scan. It was the best candidate for a base so far. I wondered if TACT would return with location data before I finished, or if he'd draw a blank like I'd done at first. Something, I suspected, was spooky, and I got a gut feeling that the Homebound was not inside the bubble, but somewhere else. It could be a natural phenomena; a wormhole of sorts might have sprouted in dead space, and I longed for the possibility that it'd be a new breed.

I scrolled through a detailed, ten-page long analysis of the barren planet before sighing. No sign of energy. No sign of artifice on the surface. If someone built a secret base there, they did good, but then why the big secret bubble anomaly hiding them? There were still undiscovered solar systems out there, I guessed, but if the anomaly was something they turned on, then it drew our attention instead of keeping it away.

The scanners switched to the next planet and my mouth fell open. Good magnetosphere. Breathable atmosphere. Judging from the size and intensity of the sun, it sat in a habitable zone. I leaned forward into my chair, closing the distance between my face and the panel down to inches.

The pilot, Evo, looked at me from his chair. He'd been left alone, since he'd avoided one of the lights blowing and buckled into his seat before we impacted the anomaly. "Sir?" he asked in his nearly-too-thick accent, quirking an eyebrow. "I should burn retrograde to avoid crash, yes? Sir?"

I swallowed. "Yeah, sure," I muttered without thinking. I forced the scanner to continue on the third planet to the star. Continents. Water. Lots of water. Green, so either there was some funky colored dirt or plant life, and I knew which I'd bet on.

"Sir." Another voice in my ear, but this time from my neglected earpiece. I ignored it, and kept looking at the scanner. It labeled the planet as a habitable, and the most important tab changed from a grey "Unknown" to a bright-green "Terran".

"Sir, My Discretion Protocol Requires You To Be Informed Of This Latest-"

"What?" I snapped, jerking back into my seat so the back of my head slapped against the cushion. Evo turned to look at me, and turned around just as quickly when he saw my grimace.

"I Found This To Be Unexpected, Given The Parameters Of The Mission, But I Have Calculated Our Position Down to Ninety-Nine Point Nine Eight Certainty," the AI's dull voice chirped into my ear, like a bag of gravel. I looked back to the scanner, which continued its search for proof of more advanced life.

"We hit a goldmine on this one, TACT," I said, a bubbling feeling rising into my chest. My left eye twitched, and I leaned back into the tan cushions of the command chair. "I thought this mission'd be a bust for a second. Wait, I might beat you on this one. Let me think a few seconds." I turned my mind toward any solar systems I know that might fit the system's "landmarks" and layout, and drew up a few contenders. There weren't a lot of habitable systems that weren't covered in cities or spaceports, which meant it'd be an independent system. I sat there, Art and the emergency team returning to the bridge not warranting even a nod of recognition, one hand tapping the side of my chair until a series of three letters replaced the generic word "star" on the top of the tab. Sol.

Someone placed a plastic bottle in one of my hands hanging over the edge of the armrest. It slipped through and fell to the ground. The bubble in my chest popped, and I felt like a bottle of carbonated fizzy someone just finished giving a nice, rigorous shake.

"Sorry, sir. Thought you'd need a drink," Art said, picking the bottle of water up with a bandaged hand. He stood up and looked at me. My eyes drifted over to him, but I only saw the letters. "Something wrong?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Commander Boyo," I whispered after a long ten seconds. "I am commandeering this vessel and this mission."

A burst of air hissed from his lips in a strangled chuckle. One of the corners of his mouth slid upward in a wry, unsure smile. "Sir, technically, you are both captain and mission lead."

"Meet me in the briefing room in five minutes," I said, ignoring him. I stood up, the holopanel dissipating in my wake. "TACT, what were the, uh, reasons for point-oh-two uncertainty in that calculation?"

"Incredulity."

I sucked a breath in. Sounded right to me.

"I… need to get something from my room. TACT, figure out a stealth course to the third planet in the system. Help Evo out with it if you need to. Put us in high orbit." I let loose a quick, breathless, singular laugh, and leaned down to turn the holopanel off. My eyes grazed the surface, and I saw, added in the notes section, a new blurb on the most sought after location in the universe.

Surface dwellings detected.

I grinned a grin from ear to ear, hit the button, and sprinted to my room.

~=V=~

Humans had a home, once. I learned about it at the age of twenty-two along with the rest of the galaxy. A single ancient ship sitting in orbit of a dead planet told us everything.

Until that point, we tinkered with the recurring "Derelicts," as we playfully called the hulks. We dove in, tore up the floorboards and looted what working tech we could find. It's how most spacefaring species left their planet in the first place; by finding a single one, even a fighter, a sufficiently advanced people could unlock the stars. Some were faster, and lucky enough to have a ship on their planet itself. Others waited until their bravest explorers found a wreckage on the opposite side of a tidally-locked moon.

We didn't know the whole story for a long time. Each ship's data storage unit, a room that held a billion libraries, were all damaged beyond repair. Some say purposefully. Sometimes, though, someone found a few bits of data. Songs. Poems. Blueprints. We glued history together and what we found invigorated us.

Humanity: a race older than any in known space, or at least the galaxy. They, the first of their kind, left their planet without the aid of an older civilization like we had. They bore the brunt of innovation and technological advancement. Driven by whatever mad spirit of longing, they wandered the stars and mapped them to minute detail.

They settled, too. Bred like draxian beetles with twice the hardiness. Those who didn't explore, built. The only thing rarer than a Derelict ship was a Derelict city, but the few we found were none like anything we'd imagined. Teleportation, genetics, jump drives, wormhole control. They did it all, and if it didn't work the first time, they tried again ad infinitum.

So fast the humanity dove into the galaxy, they plotted a course from one end to the other in two thousand years. A piece of cake, with the hybrid tech we scavenged from them, but they didn't have that pleasure. They searched the hard way: slowly, but with purpose. They looked for life in every corner of the universe, and put it wherever there was none.

Few records we decrypted from various Derelicts told what happened next, but whenever they did, they wrote it in cynicism. "We settled," one said, as if it described the gap between exploration and destruction with two words. Others were not so kind, and described the young human explorers as naive children playing with the tools of gods.

The entire civilization died within a hundred days.

In its wake laid branches of the pure core species. Humans who adapted so severely to their environment, or changed themselves on purpose, that they were near human, but not. The Variants. I, and over half the galaxy belonged to this group of subspecies. Breeds, they were called.

Five months before I turned twenty-three, a group of explorers announced they'd found the last Derelict. From it, we gleaned all of these things and more; it'd been the most in-tact ship ever found. We learned of a few names for recognizable systems. Orion. Sirius. We learned of their religions and customs. We learned, for the first time, of the human homeworld. Earth. Dirt. Ground. Foundation. We had a name.
We knew it was the last Derelict - not the last to be found, of course - the closest to our time as any had ever been. News organizations flocked to the site in numbers that rivaled the researchers. We grasped for anything the ship might have told us.
To the dismay of all, the data within the hundred days fall did not exist. The mystery of humanity's impossible death eluded us, but three words.
"Return to Sol."
It commanded, and we obeyed.

~=V=~

Our shuttle left the hangar within thirty minutes of our entry into high orbit of the planet. I kept my eyes trained on the hologram emitted from my wrist datapad, but my ears stayed open.
I wondered why I could still breathe. Art knew - I'd told him - and if the shaky exit from the hangar indicated anything, he'd suffered from the same ailment. Excitement. Blood running hot with fervor, not fever.
In a few minutes, the ship, a unique model I called the Fate, would touch the ground of the most sacred land in history.

"The beginning of every mission is always the weirdest," one of the crew said next to me, her pale, oval face turned toward a kid with red freckles still all over his cheeks. It was Roland, from earlier, and the woman speaking I knew to be Lilian, the engineer. For the past ten minutes he'd been sitting there, leg jittering on the floor and eyes darting about. "You're getting that feeling too."

"Yeah." He chest rose from a deep breath. Fingers tightening around a newly quick-fabbed rifle, he brought the weapon to his chest, then exhaled.

She chuckled. "That sort of… acidic feeling in your stomach. Like you've been drinking too much of the fizzy, 'cept you can't burp. And it's cold, too." She leaned back into her chair. Roland let out a burst of air in what might've been a laugh if he didn't sound like he was choking on something.

The Fate shuddered, and the already dim overhead lights flickered. For a split second, I worried that Art lost his cool in the cockpit. "We're entering atmosphere. Dampening now," a voice said from the intercom box. The shudder subsided to a slow, steady rumbling vibration.

Lilian looked from the shaking ceiling back to Roland. "Try not to twitch out there. That feeling doesn't control you - you control it. You're not afraid." She pointed at him. "You're ready. That's your body telling you it knows what's coming, so it's giving you extra energy and a bit of a mental push to survive. Latch onto those feelings and control them."

"Cease, Lilian. You'll just make him more nervous," another woman said, this time from the far end of the craft, nearest to the closed, dark grey door separating us from the ship's nose and Art. In the lighting, shadows covered most of her, but I could still get glimpses of her thin build and slender, inhumanly long neck. Teryn. One of the species humanity generated that didn't fall under the Variant label, and recognizable as one of the few that resembled a gantoran cat.

A white box, emblazoned with a blue "x" inside a circle sat at her side. Medical supplies. I hadn't been formally introduced to her, but I'd heard Art call her Aran. For now, she was just the Doctor.
"Ignore her," the Lilian said, brushing off invisible dust from her uniform jacket and avoiding eye contact with the alien. "If you didn't have what it took, you wouldn't be on this mission, Roland. We were specially chosen and trained for this."

"We don't know what's down there."

"Well it can't be that bad if if the Captain is bringing down two softies like us and only one real soldier. I don't know what missions you've been on, but medics and engineers normally don't outnumber the walking guns." Lillian huffed, licking her lips.

"We don't know the planet or even the system. We do know that the Captain has gone awfully quiet since the ship's AI started feeding him data on it." The doctor flickered her pointed, animalistic ears at the mention of me. "His heart is beating fifty percent faster than is average for his kind."

Roland slammed the butt of his gun against the deck. "Enough! I'm nervous, yeah, but shut it. This isn't my first mission, okay? I've, like, shot people before." He pursed his lips, still shaking.

I stifled a snort at the teryn's apt perception and kept listening. She was only half-right. The Homebound, in high orbit, continued sending me data on the planet below. Air composition and pressure. Atmospheric gasses. Surface data, too, such as forestation and likely population centers. Anything it hadn't noticed before. I read over the important stuff before we'd even geared up for the drop. Going blind into a mission was a fool's errand.

To that end, I didn't tell anyone but the pilot, Commander Boyo, what was going on until I was sure we weren't being targeted by something dangerous like planetary defenses. Earth, researchers warned, would be a goldmine, and well defended if it were in one piece. And we weren't dead yet. I wish I'd taken a picture of his face in the briefing room when I told him where we were.

Wait, I realized, TACT's programming included recording everything on the ship. Hah.

"We know, but," Lilian started, shaking her head, ponytail bobbing the whole time, "but think of it this way. This is the moment we've all trained for. I just sort of expected to be on a spaceship when it happened, not on the planet."

"I don't know what you expected, but nothing makes sense," the doctor replied, frowning. "A medic, an engineer, and a guard. That isn't the usual retinue. Not what the Commander trained us was usual, anyway. It is, however, varied. I wager that either this mission is going to require a lot of complicated maneuvering, or nobody know what to expect." She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "The lack of an in-depth briefing shows that, more than anything."

I let a low chuckle escape my lips, flicking off the blue screen splashing data in front of my face. "Very astute of you, Doctor." I looked at her, grinning wide the moment she dropped her arms in shock. "You want a medal?"

"I-I just made a logical observation."

"Yup. I went to smart-people school too, so I can make logicals out my rear-end." I coughed, and pretended not to hear a snorting laugh from Roland. "Next time, please be more careful about what you say in front of a commanding officer. I'm a soldier's soldier, but not everybody is."

"Yes sir," she muttered, looking down. I rolled my eyes and brought up my wrist-mounted datapad.

"Commander Boyo, ETA to LZ?"

"Five. Skies are clear."

Nodding, I looked back to my squad and measured my next words like a thrifty merchant with his coin. "Best time to brief you, then. The good doctor was correct. I do not fully know what to expect down there, which is why I have you three accompanying me." Lie. My skills outclassed all of theirs, bar the teryn's medical expertise. I did, however, need grunts to do heavy lifting.

"The planet below is inhabited, by a TT4-class population, from what our scanners imply. It also suggested TT3-class, so they are likely in a transitionary phase." Truth. They were either going to welcome us with swords and spears, or rifles and cannons of the black powder variety.

"The planet itself is the third planet in a yellow star system, perfectly within the habitable zone and perfectly fitting the archaic description of 'terran'-like." Truth, or at least a half-lie. The teryn's ears perked up and the lot stared at me with wide eyes.

"In four minutes, we will be setting foot on planet Earth."

"Holy shit," Roland said instantly. Lilian whistled, and Aran leaned back on her seat, eyes unblinking.

"We're steadying out. There's two settlements near us. Small one - looks like a village, and some sort of big thing. Castle or temple," Art said through the comms. "They're the only places for miles in either direction. Forests to the south, mountains to the north, plains and farmland between."

I pursed my lips. I'd picked a general area to land at. First contacts were, by most, considered a dead art. I'd been on two, myself, and led one personally. Both ended with casualties, but I'd learned much. Like how to avoid tripping when the landing ramp didn't extend all the way to the ground.

I decided, and clicked down on my headset with one finger. "Castle or temple, so let's flip a tungsten coin and see whether we meet a ruler today, or insult a freaking sun god by landing on holy ground."

"On it. Heads or tails?" The Fate pitched downward and rolled to the side, altering the course to point toward the city. "And I've got to say… from up here, it looks impressive. Built into the side of a mountain. They're geniuses in architecture, at least."

"Or idiots," I added, then looked back to the crew. "So, yes. I don't know what to expect, but I do want you all to be on your best behavior. We're not here to start a fight, so don't be twitchy. Expect the usual slew of first contact problems."
They gave me blank stares, and Aran rolled her eyes. Right, I'd be the only veteran for this mission.

"Language barrier. Different customs. Technology disparity. These people, if they're the humans who hid themselves and their entire solar system a millennia ago, aren't the ones we'd expect. They probably lost the old technology just as the rest of the galaxy did. Above all, let me do the talking. Lilian, let's get another readout of our gear."

The engineer nodded, and she unbuckled her seat, standing up and walking to the end of the shuttle. The Fate looked like a T that ate too much and exercised too little, with its largest compartment, meant for cargo, at the rear. She produced a crate and opened it.

"Breathers, full EPA suits for each of us plus one, check." Environmental Protection Armor. The standard combat suit for Wing members, with vacuum sealing and room for all sorts of modular gadgets. She went for the box holding said modules.

"Heat radar package, check. Long-range comms package, check. A couple of spare battery packs. Food. Camping gear. Just… survival supplies, I guess. Check, check, check."

"Make sure you open up all the crates," I called back.

"Sir, if I may ask, why are we rushing first contact?" Aran asked. "Why not send in a few probes? I'm not an expert, but that seems like the safest bet. And… this is Earth, so maybe safe is a better choice."

"Aw man, it's Earth," Roland whispered, staring at the ceiling with glossy eyes.
I shrugged. "We don't have the ship power to spend. Going through the anomaly took a lot out of her, so we can't sit around in the Homebound watching through the sensors for a week."
Something big and metal hit the floor in the back, accompanied by a sharp yelp. "Why the hell do we need a mini-Fabber?" Lilian screamed.

"How much time do we have?" Aran tilted her head. "I'd imagine getting ourselves stranded isn't on the mission agenda."

"Probably a day at most, if we want to get through the anomaly and back to Omega, but," I said, waggling a gloved finger in the air. "I planned for a long mission. The FP rings sitting outside the anomaly give us under a week to do what we need. If things work out well, we'll gather a larger force and come back here to either set up an official embassy or establish a foothold."

"The FP rings were a good idea. You really think the natives will be hostile?"

"I'm prepared for anything."

She looked at me, eyes narrowed to slits, then turned her head to face the floor. "This won't be a repeat of Draxis Ferys, right? Expansion-era politics never sat well with me."

I shook my head. "Draxis Ferys wasn't Earth."

"If I may speak frankly, sir… what happens if they're not hostile, but refuse to join?"

I met her eyes. "I don't know. They won't last a week as a self-declared Independent System. Every two-bit empire's wish-list starts with 'Earth' at the top."

Lilian peered around the corner, holding up a small light-blue box. "Sir, with all due respect, why do none of these things have labels?"

"That's lotion, put it back." I pointed to the box, and waved her away. She just raised her eyebrows.

"Lotion."

"For my complexion. My species get sunburnt easy." I rolled my eyes. "Just make sure you put it back in the same place." I stood up to grab it from her, but the ship shuddered, juking to the left in a jerky half-roll, dipping down at an acute angle.
I sprawled forward, grabbing one of the handles on the wall. Lilian gripped the corner, but the box fell out of her hand, and she slipped backward, slamming into the opposite wall and falling to her back.

"What the sodding hell kind of evasives was that?" I shouted, my free hand snapping to my commset.

"Something almost hit us!" the Commander called through the intercom system. "I broke through the cloud cover, since, uh, shoot. It's a bit cloudy out. Dang!" The ship swung to the other side this time, but at least I'd already grabbed onto something. Lilian tossed a noodle-like arm to the side and grabbed onto one of the straps keeping the crates locked down. "Birds, I think. Really big birds."

"What?"

"They swarmed the ship once I broke through the clouds. Fast little buggers, can't get - agh." The ship swung to the left again and I held on tighter, my legs dancing around for purchase on the diamond plate floor. "Oh. Sir. visual contact with the LZ, I'm going to need you up here."

"That's going to be a problem if you keep up with this."

"Right, sorry. I'll try to level out, but we're on the descent. I don't want to hit any birds."
I lurched forward, grabbing onto the edge of the seats on either side. I took a step forward, and grabbed the next seat, and hobbled my way down the aisle in that fashion. Roland continued to sit still, one leg jittering up-and-down, while holding onto his bulky rifle. Aran dug her nails into the armrests, staring straight ahead.

"Why not?" I asked, hitting the button leading to the cockpit. The doors slid open, and I walked through. It looked like a one-seater from the outside, with the pilot sitting in an angular protrusion just before the craft's nose tapered off into a wedge-shaped tip. While there were windows, the craft blocked them with armor by default, and projected an image of the outside to the interior holoscreens. I sat in a small chair behind and to the side of the cockpit, leaning over to get a long look at our landing zone.

"Don't want to ruin the paintjob," he said, a wry grin crossing his face. "Anyway, heck of a temple, heck of a castle."

I looked on, and blinked at the white structure before me. The comment about architectural genius felt apt from the get-go. The temple, or castle, jutted out of the side of a towering mountain like a spiny, bone-white growth. Towers jutted into the sky, topped with gold domes or conical spires. The towers were each connected to one another by archways, and at the base of the building, several disks jutted out from the mountain, and water drained off their sides. Each building shone in the sun, painted either gold, white, or a deep purple. I blinked again.

"Look, there," I said, reaching over his shoulder to point at a larger building at the base, then two a few of the towers. "Those look like parapets. Gold, purple everywhere. Palace, by the looks of it."

"Great," Art drawled, "royalty." He pulled the stick up, leveling out so I could see the structure eye-to-eye. "I hope we don't have to bow or anything stupid like that."

"That's odd, coming from you," I remarked, pointing again to a part of the castle. "Swing around here. I think there's a garden - yes, good." The Fate turned at an angle and arced around the palace, giving me a view of a long stretch of gardens behind it, along with what looked like a maze constructed out of plants. Near the edge closest to the castle, I spotted a large, empty circle. "Land there." From a distance, I also noticed a few shapes moving around the grounds, but we were too high up for me to see them clearly.

"I'm fine with saluting superior officers, but it doesn't sit well with me, bowing to foreign royalty," he said, pushing us closer to the point where I could not longer see the city, just the mountain in front of us. "You might want to hold onto something."

"Least you know where your loyalties are," I said, grabbing a handle sticking out of the wall. I gave him a lopsided grin, and felt the urge to laugh rising the closer we got to the ground. "Let's do this. One more page for the history books."

"I just." He stopped, grit his teeth, and lowered the ship, one hand reaching down to engage landing struts. The ship brushed up against the ground and landed with a dull metallic thok followed by the hiss of the hydraulic struts. "Hate royalty," he finished saying, letting out a long sigh. "Equalizing pressure. Might want to yawn."

The dropship's walls hissed, and within a minute my ears started to pop. Earth had less air pressure compared to the Homebound and, by association, the world it'd been built on. Not a big change, but I flinched when my sinuses felt it..
Art continued hitting buttons on his holopanel. "Pressure's good. Engines off in three… two… one. Green across the board, Captain. Fate's on standby." He twirled his seat to face me, stood up, and saluted. I just held my head in one hand and watched.

"Great."

"Sir?"

"Just…" I shrugged, and stood up. "It's great. Just felt underwhelming, is all."

"Would you prefer I crash it into the castle, sir?"

"That'd be quite an entrance, but nah." I waved him down, and walked to the doorway. "And at-ease. Let's get to walking on the surface of Earth."

"I'd enjoy that, sir." He smiled, and waited for me to walk into the main cabin before following. Aran and Roland both stood up, saluting, then followed behind. I stopped at the archway between the cabin and cargo storage, where Lilian sat on the ground, hair disheveled.

The engineer looked up at me, one hand moving a clumped strand of brown hair behind her ear. "Gee, I hope we didn't hit anything."

Art snorted. "With my piloting skills? We're fine."

"Get up, fix your hair, and get ready," I said, walking past and pushing an overturned crate back up, sliding the lid open to reveal a few bits of key gear. They were the suit attachments she listed out, but I went for what laid underneath them.

Commander Boyo followed behind me, and held out a hand for Lilian. "Sorry," he said, "I didn't know you weren't buckled in, and didn't have time for warning."

"It's okay," she replied, one arm reaching back and grabbing at her hair, fingers sliding through it until they rested on a circular band. "Didn't hit my head that hard. No blood. I just hate having to do my hair up."

"Never fell apart during training," Aran said, arms crossed, one hand holding onto her medical kit.

Shaking his head, Art walked around Lilian. "Here. I'll do it. We need to be quick." With two quick motions, he grabbed the band in one hand, and gathered her hair in the other.

"How'd you learn that?" Aran asked, eyebrows raised.

"Sis used to wear her hair the same way." The band snapped, finalizing the wardrobe repair, and Art smiled. "You're good, ensign."

Meanwhile, I pulled out one of the tubular devices from the bottom of the crate. In stamped-on white print, the word Valkyrie wrapped around one end. On the bottom, straps connected to the side in a loop, where my arm would slide through. Bulky squares jutted out along the sides, leading to one long rectangle, only a thin glass line breaking the grey metal sheen, and beneath the glass pulsed neon blue.

I shoved my arm in, but stopped short of tightening the straps. The Valkyrie, referred to as the VALK by most spacefaring people, secured my immediate wellbeing. I didn't know what to expect, be it danger or not. If the people out there were human, and knew of it, they'd expect trouble. People only wore VALKs when they fought. A culmination of Derelict technology, the VALK stood the only bit of human tech the galaxy ever succeeded in reverse-engineering, and it'd been responsible for some of our greatest technological achievements. Advanced scanners. Artificial intellects. Teleportation.

It made sure you never died. Settings could be changed, of course, but the core concept, written in stone, said that the moment before you should die, the VALK made sure you didn't by teleporting you to a safe location. This meant one of the VALK Point coordinates you plugged into it - a small touchscreen hidden under a flap on one side - that you were allowed to travel to. Corporations had one hell of a time selling VALK point coordinates to the wealthy. Pay a monthly fee, and whenever you got in trouble, just hit a button and you had your own panic room with security guards, emergency medics, and all sorts of amenities.

Militaries bought VALKs more than weapons. The energy costs of large battles outweighed running a city for several years. War changed.

I strapped it on, clicking a few bits into place where they attached to my sleeve. I didn't know why I waited until then.

"Art, take the communications set," I ordered, turning around to look at my team. I stepped aside, letting Art pass. I looked back to the guard of the group, who I noticed, instead of the grey-spruce uniform his fellow ensigns wore, sported an EPA suit, sans full-head visor. "Roland, kinetics pack. Aran, heat sensor. Lilian, spiker rig." They saluted in turn, and tore into the crate to gear up, grabbing a VALK and one of the packs. I took out my own, and plugged it in behind my wrist-mounted datapad. It synced with my comms set, and a woman's relaxed, pleasant voice drifted into my ears.

"This prototype field AI is currently undergoing personality development. TACT and all variants are a product of Kaiden Technologies and intended for military use only." Her voice vanished, replaced by the steady hum of the pack starting up, fans on the sides ejecting excess heat the sinks couldn't handle.

I grinned as a monotone voice fizzled into being. The difference between this one and the shipboard AI was minimal, only a few weeks between activation, but his voice already lacked the pre-genned feel . "Miniature Tactical Advice Contributor online. How may I help?"

"Hey, Emtac," I said, checking over myself to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be. Officer's pistol strapped to my leg, check. Vibrosword retracted and strapped to other leg, check. My datapad worked fine, my clothes were fitted, my boots strapped down, and my diamond-wings pip shone even in the dim yellow light of the cargo bay.

I watched the others put on their various devices and double-check their gear. "How was your nap?" I asked the AI, keeping an eye on the crew.

"Glad to be back, sir. What's the mission today?"

"Shouldn't be much. Right now we're on Earth."

"That's new. Recommendation: remember to take pictures."

"Will do. I give you permission to hook up to Art's comms set and communicate with the Homebound's TACT. Share mission data so you're up to speed with this. Then hook into the nearby radar pack and spiker rig, and the Fate dropship."

"I can do everything except the dropship, sir. I don't have enough power to manage so many things at once, at least for long."

"Ah, mhm," I sighed, nodding. Art finished hooking up his communications array, which sat on his shoulder with a thin antennae sticking out the top. "Just stick to the other orders, then. When the doors open, I'll need a steady stream of information on things I might miss. Delicate work."

"On it," Emtac said.

I stepped forward, and opened the crate containing the extra EPA suits. Nestled to the side were a couple of metal bands, padded with cushions on the inner ring. They looped in an odd shape, and the back sported a big metal box. I picked up four in one hand and one in the other, and offered the large amount to the group. "Emergency visors. Wear them."

"Going with the spooky route, eh?" Art said, flashing me a grin and salute. He took one, and slipped it on over his head, where it rested around his neck like a well-fitted collar.

"Why?" Aran asked, taking her own. She'd attached the medical kit to her backside, where four clips on her uniform kept it held like a backpack.

"Like he said, 'cause it's spooky. Mystery factor."

"Seems like a delicate situation to be spooky in," Lilian said.

"Whatever you say, sir," Aran muttered, slipping it around her own neck and clicking it into place. It looked big on her, but the alien clicked a few buttons on the interior and forced it into a more comfortable thinner shape. The others followed suite.

Roland didn't hesitate to activate his, and a black, bulbous visor fizzled into place around his head, the front face jutting out a bit to provide extra headroom. Hard-light shields, like holograms, had myriad uses. Emergency safety gear for unfortunate ship crews were one.

"Five hour's power," I said, clicking mine on. The interior lit up a soft blue, and I blinked to adjust my eyes to the change. The EV's weren't perfect, but they were cost, power, and time efficient. They looked cool too.

"Emtac, how's things?"

"The Fate is surrounded by multiple signatures."

"Great. What?"

"They're in formation. Probable they are soldiers."

"Okay. Can you whip up a HUD with a heat sensor radar for our visors? Usual color scheme."

"On it, sir." Before speakers finished crackling, a light flicked on in the helmet, and a hologram plastered itself against the visor. Circular, centered on Aran, since she had the sensor package. Grey "unknowns" sat outside the Fate, most in squads, I observed. Defensive formation, with the largest group positioned at the rear door, ten meters away.

"Welcoming committee confirmed." I turned around to look at the others. Art stood next to me, while Roland kept himself between the both of us and to the back. The last two moved themselves behind Roland, parallel to one another and us two at the front. Poor form in almost every possible squad scenario, but I'd ordered it because I wanted to be the first person off.

"Emtac, quickly contact the Fate and lower the ramp, and give me a ten second countdown.

The little box on my arm whirred louder. "Ten seconds, sir." The Fate groaned into movement, locks and pressure seals unhooking. A door slid upward behind us, sealing the cargo bay off from the rest of the shuttle. Pressure hissed and hydraulics pumped, and a singular, resounding metal clack told me the ramp would fall.

"One step for the history books," Art said beside me without looking over. We all looked at the ramp. The metal, diamond-plated slab jerked, the motors rumbled, and it lowered. Sunlight crept through the growing opening.

I straightened out, locking my knees, and one hand rested on my sidearm. All I could hear over the comms were the others' heavy breathing. The ramp hit the ground, the motors stopped, and my mouth pursed into a straight line.

Standing in front of us were two horse-things, and surrounding the Fate were about twenty smaller ones. They didn't move, but the smaller ones tensed, one looking toward a white horse-thing, raising what looked like an eyebrow.

"Damn, first contact's a bitch. We landed in a pasture or something," Art said, shattering the silence. "I can go find us another landing point, sir." My second started to turn around, but I stuck out an arm to stop him.

"Maybe they're being slow to respond?" Roland asked.

"Shut up," I ordered. "Don't be stupid. This is them."

"This is insane. You're insane. What the heck?" Lilian breathed.

"Silent, ensign," Art barked, looking back to the group of four beings standing ten meters away, between two white statues, raised on pedestals, of other horse-things in various one-legged poses. "Sir, you sure?"

"He has a point, look at what's on them," Aran interrupted, and I had noticed the instant the ramp extended what she meant. The shorter, blue horse wore some kind of black garment around her neck, and a small black crown around some sort of pointed protrusion at her forehead. The taller of the two, the white one, wore a similar neck-thing, but gold. I fought for the word and found torc to be the name. Unmistakably, she wore a crown.

"You were right about the royalty thing, Commander Boyo," I muttered. "Whether these are living beings or not, that depends."
"Robots, serious?"

"I've seen stranger things mimic life out in the Mechanicus systems." With no small heaping of caution, I raised my right hand, fingers splayed in every direction. "Though the guards all look the same. They might be mechs. Or just well-bred."

"You sure this is Earth?" Art asked. I didn't answer, but took five steps forward, halfway across the ramp, and raised my other arm. Roland and Art followed behind, but the last two stayed in the shadow of the Fate's bay.

"Let me do the talking," I ordered, and took the rest of the trip forward, placing my boots on soft, chartreuse colored grass.

"Ten tungstens he tries to talk to an animal," Lilian said, nudging Aran gently.

"Keep quiet, you two," Art snapped.

I kept my eyes trained on the two horses-in-charge, who similarly kept their eyes on me. If they were smart, they'd already guessed I was the team leader, if only by the number of stars under my Wing pip, let alone the obvious.

With the same unthreatening slowness, I moved both hands behind my head, and lifted a panel on the helmet, and hit the disengage button once. The black visor around my head filled with holes, and they all grew until they rid my vision of the visor. Neat trick, but they only fully retracted if I pressed it twice in succession. Once changed the transparency. Getting stabbed in the face by one of the primitive spears the guards held didn't suit my fancy.

"Hello," I said, my voice filtering out of the helmet now that I'd ended the noise cancellation, aided by speakers at the front of the device.

The two supposed royals didn't budge, but the guards next to them flinched back an inch. My voice, I realized, sounded a tad mechanical and hollow - artificial -from the speakers.

Before I could continue, the white horse opened its mouth, and a short, lilting whinny came out. I resisted the urge to step back. I wouldn't hear the end of it if official records stated the first man to rediscover Earth tried to make first contact with a beast of burden. But her eyes, and I'd have bet my life the white one was female, held a twinkling intelligence that looked over me with purpose. I pressed on.

"I am Captain Amber of the Wing, an intragalactic peace keeping organization." I enunciated each word. I didn't really choose my next words carefully. "Are you even intelligent?"

"This is so weird," Aran said through the comms, but I forced myself to focus on the task at hand.

The white one looked down to blue, taking her eyes off me for a split second, and made a series of whinnying sounds. The words, if they were speaking in some beastial tongue, flowed together like a song. A weird, horsey song.

Blue looked at me, and the tips of its mouth curled upward in a strange, alien grin. Alien by my standards meant really, really weird, too. I went to the bar with aliens. They were cool people.

And then its horn glowed, and a white light formed at the tip.

"Weapon," Roland yelled, and started raising his rifle. Art jerked his arm out and grabbed the end of it, swinging it back down and hissing.

"Don't fire, you idiot," Art yelled. Four of the nearest guards went into action stances, pointing spears in my direction, as if they would hurt mission-class uniforms that weren't half as comfortable or cuttable as civilian wear.

"Hold fire, hold fire," I barked, looking back to the squad. Only Roland drew his weapon, but both the ensigns in the back retreated to either side, hands resting on their own sidearms. "Are you trying to start a war or something?"

"It looked like it was gonna shoot!" Roland pleaded, returning the rifle to a downward position, but he didn't move his finger from its place hovering above the trigger. "It's not my fault. I'm sorry!"

A new voice interrupted. "Greetings," it said, and I turned back to face the horses. White's mouth moved, and it seemed to match the whinnying motion it'd used earlier, but instead I heard Galactic Basic. Her voice, much as I'd assumed, ran like warm milk, like a mother talking to a child. And all she'd said was one word.

I nodded, half unsure if what I'd heard was right. "Hello," I repeated in an even tone, the words catching in my throat.

White nodded back, and then looked to the guards, who returned their spears to the upright position, though they gave us wary glances. "I," she said, pausing to look at me, "am Princess Celestia of Equestria."

"And I am Princess Luna," Blue said quickly, almost interrupting the first princess. "Also of Equestria."

I nodded again at them both as they introduced themselves, and gave a soft smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Captain Amber of the Wing, an intragalactic peacekeeping organization."

Princess Celestia tilted her head, and the other took one step back, the other leg half-raised in the air by a couple of centimeters. "Intragalactic," she said, her face betraying no emotion but a dash of curiosity. "As in you are outsiders to this world."

"By a big margin," I replied in turn, calculating their reactions. They didn't know of advanced spacefaring civilizations, or didn't have one of their own, but didn't seem surprised by much. Brilliant politicians, or just wise. "This is a previously unexplored world. We were conducting a routine exploration mission when we detected your planet." I shrugged, and smiled a smidgen wider. "We're here to establish diplomatic relations, if you'd welcome us, of course."

"Of course," Princess Celestia said, turning to, if I understood right, her sister. "Princess Luna, please prepare the staff for visitors. I will stay here and lead them to the greeting room."

Luna raised an eyebrow, and pointed a blue-silver tipped hoof to the glowing thing on her head. "What of the translation spell, sister?"

Celestia chuckled. "Good point. I will prepare the staff, then."

Then she vanished. With an audible popping sound and a short flash from her own pointy head thing. Horn, I guessed.

"Just our luck we land on a planet with psychics for leaders," Art hissed behind me. I didn't say anything, but narrowed my eyes to slits. "The only thing worse than royals are psychics."

Looking to Princess Luna, I voiced the complaint I knew Art was secretly begging me to. "Spell? You are magic users?"

The princess looked to me, narrowing her own eyes. "Yes? Does this surprise you?"

I shook my head. "No. The rest of the galaxy has a few like you, but we call them psychics. I assume you're currently manipulating everyone around us into understanding one another's language."

"Correct. This translation spell requires some concentration, and I know of a more permanent one, but I have not had to use it in some time," she replied, a smirk crossing her face. "I am not, however, manipulating your minds, just your perception."

Translation: we could all be dying with spears in our chest and we wouldn't know, if she wanted that. Perhaps the only person in the team who hated psychics more than Art was me. I spent years of study perfecting a basic regimen of mental-blocking to teach officers how to avoid leaking information to mental-based psychics. Having my perception altered so easily removed any wonder I felt over being on Earth and boiled the acid in my stomach.

"I appreciate your honesty," I deadpanned, forcing whatever numbing hatred I automatically felt for the royal back into the pit of my belly. "You were to take me to the palace, I suppose?"

She nodded. "It is customary for dignitaries to greet one another personally. My sister handles most of them, but if I left, the language barrier would once more prevent us from communicating." She lifted a hoof and pointed it to the spires of the palace behind us. "Canterlot Castle lay there. Guards, you may disperse. I will take our guests to the palace." Looking back to me, her eyes trailed off to my crew. "And where are my manners? Who are your crew, Captain?"

I waved Art and the others forward, and they broke formation to stand beside me, though Roland still sat in the back. "This is my second in command, Commander Boyo. The others are inconsequential."

Both of her eyebrows shot up. "For such a small crew, I would imagine they would be more important."

"I didn't see you introducing your own guards."

She looked between me and the other ensigns, black visors still concealing their identity. "This is true," she finally said, returning to me. "But I wish to know our new guests."

Before I could retort, Art's visor dissipated in the same way mine had, and he stepped aside, one hand raised to showcase the others. They followed suit, revealing their own faces. "I apologize, your highness," he said, glancing to me and winking. I closed my mouth.

"This is Ensign Lilian." He pointed to the engineer, who gave a small wave. "Our engineer and tech expert." He moved to Roland. "Ensign Roland is our guard, similar to your own."

The teryn's appearance made Luna take a sharp breath. "And this is Ensign Aran, our doctor."

"You have other races in your group?" Luna asked, a curious lilt seeping into her voice. She stepped closer, eying Aran. "I apologize if that question offends you, I am merely curious on your stance."

"The Wing has one of the most varied member lists in regards to species. We house a total of around four hundred unique species and races within our halls," I said, stepping in for Roland. "Aran here is one of the more common species in our ranks, teryn. Believe it or not, the rest of us are also not of the same species. Similar, but not the same."

Luna's smile widened. "So many? How interesting. I hope we learn much about one another. Come, we shall go to the palace."

She led us, two guards staying off to the side where they weren't noticeable but still present, behind a hedge or standing between two statues. Luna didn't say much after that, and I clicked off the open mic, waiting for Art and the others to match.

When we were all separated from the outside world, I looked to Art. "Thanks for the save back there. I hate diplomacy."

Art grinned. "That's why they made me your second, sir. You're a fighter and a tactician, and I, uh. Well I don't like bragging, but I'm pretty good at talking."

"Leading, too."

His smile faltered. "Yeah. If you want, I can handle the talking from now on. I'm guessing you intend to have them sign an agreement."

"I can give the intro and you can finalize it."

"You sure?"

"I like giving the intro. Besides, if I let my second handle everything, I either look lazy or weak."

He shrugged. "Good point, I guess. I can map out a treaty if you give me some of the ones we used in the expansion era. Hopefully they'll be easy to talk to about it. I don't think the College of Admirals will like a planet of psychics, though, if those two aren't the only ones."

"They'll just deal with it, then. Rest of the galaxy hears about it, though? Won't matter that it's Earth. The whole place will become a target." I shook my head and frowned. "If it's a species trait, like with the rulagge in the Taratellus Arm, they might Break the Rules." I finished the last three words with emphasis.

"So then the goal is to keep this place a secret for as long as we can."

"Correct. also… don't tell them about Earth or humans."

"Got it, boss. Anything else?"

"Make sure Aran gets her ten tungstens."

Aran chuckled, and I looked back. Lilian's face turned red, and she growled. "She didn't accept the bet anyways."

Roland sped up, and looked at me. He still held the rifle, but only by the underside and with his fingertips; the rectangular gun hanging off his side by the straps bumped into his legs with every step. "Sir?" he asked. "What are we gonna do about the mind-magic? I ain't good with psychic stuff."

I looked at the back of the princess' head. The light on her horn hadn't gone out, and the pit in my stomach widened at the thought that, even now, she could be reading me. With my eyes still trained on the back of her skull, where the strange, astral-like mane connected, I sharpened my mind and sent out a single thought.

Hello.

She didn't turn around, stop, or anything to denote surprise. "She isn't reading us, or is just really good. I'll have a talk with her, though. She needs to know we have cultural rules."

"You want me to handle it?" Art asked.

I shook my head. "I've got experience with psychics. You don't. I'll need to send the Fate up to the Homebound to do it, though. I'll need to get something."

"Got it, and - sir, Luna," he said, and I turned my attention back to the princess. She looked at me, quizzically.

"You may ask to speak privately if you wish, Captain," she said, her mouth quirking up in a grin. "Though I am curious as to how you do so in such close proximity. Do those strange force-fields on your helmet block sound?"

I blinked, one hand reaching up to switch channels. "That's correct, actually. Good eye. I apologize for the secrecy, Princess Luna. We don't make first contact that often, and we didn't expect it here."

"The last species we contacted was around three years ago," Art quipped. "Went rather swimmingly, if I remember. They sent me and Captain Turin to this backwater world on the edge of Mechanicus space. Nice place. Fantastic sunsets since it orbited a binary system. Most boring part was sitting around reading probe readings, though. Weeks of it."

"Like I said, we don't make it often."

Luna tilted her head at me. "You have observed us for weeks, Captain?"

I didn't answer for a second, thinking of an excuse. For once, the truth seemed plausible. "Not this time. On the journey here, our ship suffered a power malfunction and I had to make the choice of landing here and meeting you, or turning around and passing up an opportunity." I winked, and smiled at her. "I have a feeling I made the right choice, Princess."

"Ah, I see. So your vessel will be stranded here until your people come looking for you? You seem very calm, considering."

"Nah," I said, chuckling. "We just had to nix the probing part of it, though, so we made a guess and landed here. I'm not sure exactly how long we'll stay, but I hope to return someday."

"Thus far you are a pleasant enough being, and I hope you enjoy your visit, however brief." Princess Luna looked forward, and I saw her eyes steel themselves. We neared the towering palace doors. "Though I assume we both know you are here for business reasons as well. Establishing official relations will take some time."

"I expected nothing less. We're willing to work together on this if you are, Princess." I opened my arms in a wide sweep. "After all, the Wing has always been about peaceful resolutions. Patience comes with peace."

"There is also the matter of your… alien nature," she continued, peering at us with narrow eyes. "Despite the many species in Equestria itself, our ponies are often superstitious and resentful toward non-ponies. Until it is seen fit, I doubt my sister will release the truth of your visit."

"It's okay." I said, and paused, my mouth hanging open. "Wait, did you say ponies?"

(2) Homebound Rebooted: No Sol-iciting Allowed

Author's Note

Lastly, while I'm hesitant to release any sort of major spoiler post regarding the end of the plot, since even that seemed to be up in the air. I have about a dozen different versions of the outline, but the following is the list of chapters that were slated for writing and completely planned out. All 50. That's right, I only got through half of the story before real life burnt me out on it. But I did some pretty good puns and hated to waste them. Note that it's for the revised/rebooted chapters too, so not everything's the same.

Consider it the last lore entry unlocked.

Act I: The Captain and the Horses
(1) Bound to Be
(2) No Sol-iciting Allowed
(3) Wingmen
(4) Start of a Stable Relationship
(5)Aboard and Abroad
(6) Wigs
(7) Treda Softly (←- we had a planet named treda lol)
(8) Sealing the De'al
(9) Cities Built on Hills
(10) All the King's Men/Glass Cannons

(I) Jonesy

Act II: Guardians and Soldiers
(12) Brewing Storms in Coffee Pots
(13) Backflip
(14) Sticking the Landing
(15) Ties
(16) Comprassion/Compression Compassion think of a better pun
(17) Ponies Turn Out
(18) Like a Dull Sword and a Thousand Catapults
(19) Operation Cheer-up the Captain
(20) Dutybound
(21) Our Sole Burden
(22) Bullets and Blades Part One
(23) Bullets and Blades Part Two
(24) Mission Man
(25) Promises Break You First

(II) Laser Beams!

Act III: Until the End
(26) Ponies Aren’t People
(27) Warm Milk
(28) Dirty Diamonds
(29) That Smell After Rain/Rainy Days
(30) Violet Lights
(31) Jackson-of-All-Trades
(32) From Worse to Worser
(33) Sometimes We Win
(34) Lithobreaking

(III) Wing It

Act IV: Defining Hope
(35) Sometimes We Die
(36) A Big But
(37) Sechura Place in My Heart
(38) Part of a Hole
(39) A Lie of a Mission
(40) People Aren’t Ponies
(41) The Alpha and the Omega/Matter V Energy
(42) The Roads a Man Must Walk
(43) Are Labyrinthine
(44) Crepuscular

(IV) Just a Diplomatic Ship

Act V: Life and Death
(45) Mere Crystalline Structures
(46) The Eye of the Calm
(47) Welcome to the Galaxy
(48) The End of an Era
(49) One Hundred Billion Stars
(50) Did You Know, You’re All My Very Best Friends
(51) The Thing Everyone Deserves
(52) Home

(V) Tempest Edge (Epilogue)

Last but not least the image that was to be the cover after chapter 25 and for the duration of the 3rd act:

(2) Homebound Rebooted: No Sol-iciting Allowed

I sat overlooking a window on a balcony. It was summer, or late spring, I guessed. The air smelled of humid trees, and it blew hard across the side of Canterlot. Stretched out below the palace were a series of forests, valleys, and a river going through a village. I'd been placed up in one of the taller towers, and my crew spread themselves out amongst the lower levels. Art's room had a nice balcony.

It'd been around seven in the evening when we landed, so without any business talk, the Princesses let us settle in. I appreciated it, since it let me talk gameplan with Art and send a message to the Homebound telling them we'd be staying the night. The ship's pilot, Evo, put the vessel in orbit and awaited further instructions, letting the more power-intensive systems go silent to save energy.
Art shut the door behind him and sat next to me. "Long day."

I shrugged. "Yeah. You and the others get dinner yet?"

"Got back at nine."

"Took them an hour and a half to cook you a meal?"

"There were some miscommunications about dietary restrictions." He chuckled. "They're herbivores."

I'd taken most of my gear off, but the datapad and Emtac's processor still sat on my right arm, though I told him to revert to standby mode until I needed him. Roland and Lilian helped unload a few key components from the Fate, which included a small generator for our equipment, and lugged it up around a hundred thousand flights of stairs to our area of the palace.

"I was busy," I said, and he gave me a sideways glance. "Sending data to the ship. Talking strategy with Emtac."

"Why?"

"And then I spent twenty minutes talking to one of the maids about where the library is in this place."

"You talked to an AI about strats and not me?"

I gave him a deadpan glare. "Because the library means information. If I can get a way for that translator power to work on their books, I'll have a free source of knowledge that those Princesses can't control. Objective info."

"I'm hurt." He chuckled, but looked out to the setting sun. The last rays of pinkish light disappeared behind a mountain on the horizon. He sighed, and looked back to me. "But seriously, good idea, even though we're basically doing the same thing to them."

"What?" I gave him my best impression of his sideways look.

"Controlling information. That's what this little game of ours is going to be about, I think. We need to discuss what we tell them, and what we don't."

I flattened my expression, and looked out at the sunset again, Art following my gaze. "You're not suggesting I be honest. That's not like you."

"We're both honest people, I know that." I saw him shake his head out of the corner of my eye. "But I'm being logical. This is Earth, and these aren't humans. Tell them the truth of why we care about this place, and it could jeopardize everything. No alliance. Nothing."

I looked down and fiddled my thumbs in a circle. "Anything involving humans that links them to this planet. The story stays as this. We detected a new system we hadn't noticed before. We are the exploration crew. We're making contact due to a malfunction in the reactor that means we have less time. This is the new truth. Make sure the others know it."

"Will do."

"Tomorrow, I'll make the pitch to Princess Celestia. Luna said she controlled the diplomacy side of things. Meanwhile, you talk to Luna. See what you can learn about Equestrian culture. The next day, I'll confront Luna and ask her about any of Celestia's possible grievances with the deal. You talk to Celestia and use your knowledge to sweeten the deal. Communication in between."

"Sounds good, boss," he said, and lifted a glass of water he'd brought from inside his room and laid on the armrest. "Cheers: to new allies and eternal fame."

"Cheers." I held up an empty hand, cupped in the shape of a goblet since I lacked any refreshment, and we both chuckled. "Library's in a different wing of the palace. Exit out the way we came in, take a left, couple hundred meters that way. Purple arch, then right down there should be the main library. I'll try to meet you there after breakfast."

"Speak'in of food, you should eat up," he said, nudging me. "I'll get word around to the crew and meet you in the morning."

"Where would I be without my second reminding me to eat?" I asked the cool air. The last of the sun's pink light disappeared, and I left Art to get eaten up by bugs.

I left the guest-room tower and meandered down the stairs to one of Canterlot Castle's many winding hallways. Over ten meters wide and tall, the marble tunnels gleamed with torches. Light danced across the walls and the carpets took on reddish hues. The place smelled clean, but not the clinical, chemical clean of the Homebound.

It took twenty minutes for me to remember I didn't know how to get to the kitchen. I went up some steps and peered out of a tower's window, only to see the many towers, arches, and walkways of Canterlot blocking my view. I recognized the guest tower at the far end, though. I let out a long, pent-up sigh. I'd ask for directions, but there weren't any guards or maids around. Canterlot Castle fell silent for the night.

"Lost, are we?"

"Hubichuwah!" I sputtered, spinning around with my hands on, automatically striking at the voice behind me. My fist stopped mid-air, as if I'd punched thick, invisible floating slime. I winced, and narrowed my eyes at the large horse-thing standing behind me. Princess Luna glared, her horn alight and a blue glow enveloping my hand.

"I take it you're not good at being surprised," she droned, letting the glow fade and my hand drop to my side. I held it in my other hand, checking for any signs of bruising or injury. Or slime.

I narrowed my eyes even further at her. "I take it you're not good at not scaring people half to death," I shot back, still cradling my arm.

Her eyebrows shot up for a moment, then settled back down. "What are you doing up so late in the night, prowling about my castle, Captain?"

My face settled into a more neutral expression, but my eyes didn't leave hers. "I could ask the same thing."

"I am co-owner of not just this castle, but this country."

"So?"

She sighed, and circled around me until she was blocking the window. With her curious gaze still aligned with mine, she lifted her head until her flowing, strange hair blocked the window in full. It looked like a perfect replica of the night sky beyond.

An exact replica, I realized.

"I am the Princess of the Night. This is my domain."

"Five tungstens your sister's Princess of the Day?" I asked, grinning.

"Very correct."

"So she… owns the sun."

"Yes, in a way."

"And you basically own all of space. That's a pretty garbage deal, actually."

Her eyes narrowed again, and a huff of air blew out her snout. "Enough, Captain. Why are you sneaking about? What is the meaning of your wandering?"

"Uh, one." I counted off my fingers. "I'm hungry. Two, I wanted to explore. Three, I'm hungry." I stopped myself from repeating the sarcastic tirade, but my stomach complained too loudly in my head for me to care about diplomacy.

Her gaze softened. "Oh. That is simple, I could guide you there blindfolded." She started down the stairs, and stopped to let me catch up. "Come. We should talk on the way."

"Yay." I followed, and stayed next to her, only half a meter between us as we walked the silent halls. Her hoofsteps were near complete silence.

"I've been informed your species are omnivores. This was unexpected, but the staff will be able to provide fish for you tomorrow."

"I'll just have eggs and toast, then. If you have eggs." We turned a corner, and entered a large, rectangular room with two levels and a red, gold-trimmed carpet. I looked to the side, and saw the two largest doors I'd seen yet. I guessed we were in the entrance to the palace, now.

Luna brought me up one of the main stairways and through a door to our left. "You seem uneasy, Captain."

"How so?" I asked, but instead of getting an answer, she stopped short, and turned to me.

"Take a deep breath." She lowered her head, and her horn lit up.

"What?" I tried to ask, but was interrupted by a flash of light and a sickening cold freezing my stomach solid, followed by a burst of air and sparkles.

She faced me, and we weren't in the same spot as before, and not a millisecond passed before my hands were up again. "Hwuah! What did you do?"

"Teleported us to the kitchen," she said in a tone of voice that didn't recognize my fists being ready to sock her in the mouth. I lowered them, though, just to be nice.

"Well don't do that again," I spat, and turned to look at the place. Racks of primitive metal cutlery lined the walls, and multiple stoves, ovens, and cabinets were under them. I looked up and down, seeing a sleek, tiled floor and a marble ceiling with multiple vents built in.

"Do what, teleport you?" She walked with me, guiding me through a series of kitchen islands to the refrigerator at the end of the room. It somehow kept the same general shape of the refrigerators we had at home.

"No. Just using your power on me without my permission." I threw open the door and looked at a bunch of hay sticking out of every side bin and shelf. Nonplussed, I punched my hand in and ruffled around for, I hoped, a tub of butter or carton of eggs.

Luna balked at my statement, and took a step back. "Very well. I will refrain from doing so in the future. I was unaware magic is taboo to your people."

"What, Art didn't tell you?" I continued rustling the poorly kept mess of a cold storage unit, until my hand rested on something cardboard-ish and, in a miraculous turn of coincident, shaped like an egg-carton. I pulled it out and turned around, still glaring. "We don't like it when psychics use their power on us, or even in general, without permission. It's a violation of personal space. Not to mention physics."

She blinked. "Your second neglected to tell me this." She continued looking at me with a blank face, but a glint in her eyes betrayed a tinge of sadness. "Forgive me. This will be rectified in the future. I will tell my sister tomorrow."

I stopped short, and softened my glare. "Thank you," I finally said, bringing the eggs over to the nearby stove, picking an iron pan off the rack with one hand, while the other opened the carton. "That means a lot, actually. Most psychics are pretty snooty about being special."

"I do have a question though." She waited for an answer, and I waved her on. "Why do you refer to it as psychic? My sister and I are both alicorns, and we use magic."

I shrugged, and fiddled with the nobs on the gas stove. They worked fine, at the very least, and a blue flame burned beneath the frying pan in moments. "Sort of interchangeable, I guess. More superstitious people call it magic. Actual people call it psych, and its users psychics." I pointed at her horn with my finger. "That, though, is something new. Sometimes their hands will glow, or eyes, but nobody's got a giant freak'n horn."

"It is not that large."

"Saw one that seemed to channel his power through a staff, once. Anyway, alicorn?" I trailed off, cracking a couple of eggs over the pan and letting them run together, yolks breaking without my intervention.

She sniffed. "Yes, and you've already been informed of the other types of pony."

"Yeah, you told me. Vanilla ponies, wingy ones that fly, and horny ones that use 'magic'. Seems about standard. Alicorns are, what, a combo of the three?"

"In a way. Also, you have forgotten to butter the pan."

"Shoot, you haven't invented non-stick?" I grunted, and marched back to the refrigerator.

"No need," she said, and her horn glowed. Out of the open door flew a bowl of solid yellow butter. "I know this is a mere business meeting for you, Captain, but I would enjoy knowing your name."

"Jackson," said, cautiously holding out one hand, away from me, to catch the bowl. "Jackson Amber. Captain is my formal title, but I've gone by a few others."

"Such as?"

I turned away from her, grabbing a spatula and mixing up the eggs to my liking, greasing the bottom with butter where I could. "Used to be an admiral, once," I deadpanned, keeping my eyes trained on the wall. "What's your full name?"

"Just Luna," she said from behind me. "Princess is my formal title."

"Anything else?"

"No."

"I'm guessing you ponies never really grasped the point of a surname, then." I chuckled, without any mirth involved. "I'm sorry if this is a bit too informal for you. It's been a stressful week. Month, really."

She didn't answer for a while, and we stood there, the only light from the dim, flickering stove beneath my late meal. It smelled good, and my stomach urged me to finish with the stove quickly.

After a minute, she sighed. "I am sorry. It has been a hard month for my sister and me as well. Your timing could have perhaps been better, but there's no way to help such things. Your informalities are easily forgiven."

"I bet we could swap some crazy stories." I chuckled again, and this time meant it. "Been in the Wing for over two decades now, and I still haven't been everywhere in the galaxy yet. How 'bout you? How long until you get to be Queen Luna or whatever?"

"My sister and I are Princesses, and that is how it will stay," Luna said. "And while I am… not as experienced as my sister, I have learned much over the years."

A real smile crossed my face, but I kept looking at the wall. "So, 'Princess of the Night', right? What else does that entail? I know I cracked the space joke earlier, but I'm curious."

I turned to face her, still smiling, and turned off the heat for my meal. I'd not be bothered to find toast. She smiled in turn. "I keep the night court open, and schedule nighttime events. I watch over ponies' dreams and keep them safe. In the evening and morning, I raise and lower the moon, while my sister lowers and raises the sun in turn. There are some other, simpler duties, such as monster hunting or other such menial tasks, but they are hardly relevant."

I kept staring at her, forcing the smile to stay put. "Uh-huh."

"You think I have lied?"

"No, no," I said, shaking my head vigorously. "Of course not. Yes. That's a- yeah. That's not true."

Luna quirked an eyebrow. "How so?"

"I'll respect whatever facade you have going. Your people can keep believing it, but be truthful with me. Nobody - no thing is powerful enough to move a moon, let alone a star. You're talking about geocentricity. It's impossible."

"For you, perhaps? Our world may not be like the ones you typically-"

"No, no. It's physically impossible. Cannot be done." I turned to face her, scowling. "No psychic I've ever heard of could do anything even remotely close to that. We'd detect that sort of thing anyway, if it were true. My ship would be frantically calling me, right now, trying to tell me that some freaky stuff is going on." I lifted up my arm, and tapped twice on my inactive datapad. "Bloody nuthin'."

She stood there, letting my outburst finish, and flickered her ears. "I am sorry. I'm not used to such… strange skepticism. Are there any other doubts you wish to share?"

I bobbed my shoulders, palms pointed up. "Nope. Well, yeah, actually. Watching people's dreams should also be impossible. I'm not an expert in mind magic, but I'm pretty sure brains aren't holoflicks."

"While I do not usually stoop as low as making bets, it may be easier to simply prove to you it is possible," she mused, watching me gather my food together without cleaning. "Tonight, then?"

"Whuhp?" I sputtered, mouth half-full with scrambled egg. I swallowed. "Nuh-uh. No staring at the inside of my brain, consciousness, whatever. You want a tour? Ask nicely."

"Very well, Jackson Amber. I will make sure to knock first."

"Whuhpeher."

"I will see you sometime later, Jackson. I believe you can find your way back to the guest quarters on your own." She stepped back, horn glowing.

"Wait," I said, gulping down another mouthful. "No, I don't-" Zzap. Princess Luna disappeared in a flash of light that stung my eyes and left an annoying, empty feeling in the room.

I let out a long sigh, and set the plate of half-eaten eggs on the counter. With my left hand, I tapped on my earpiece. "Emtac. You there?"

"Yes, sir. Need something?"

"I, uh," I uhh'd, shuffling my feet. "I need the GPS coordinates of Art and the others."

"Lost, sir?"

"Quite."

"You do not possess a HUD-capable helmet, sir. I will warn you when you walk in the incorrect direction."

"Fantastic," I muttered, turning around to get my poor excuse for a dinner and wolf it down.

"Colder."

"Shut it."

"Absolutely freezing."

~=V=~

"Homebound mission log, end." I shut my mouth, took a breath, and clenched my teeth together. The little recorder in my hands whirred, then stopped, and I looked over to my bedside table. I'd placed the mini-AI device atop it with a bottle of water earlier. Only the candle and soft glow from Emtac's case lit the bed from one side. I stared at him for a minute, wondering if it'd been appropriate to do a log in bed, with only a shirt and underwear on.

I was on Earth, I concluded. I could do anything I wanted.

I hadn't lied to the Princess, for the most part. I revealed something about myself in hopes of goading her to do the same, and she'd told me something important. That she'd be the easier one to deal with, being inexperienced compared to her sister.

"I did it," I whispered to the air. "Five years as the chief of exploration ops and we got nowhere. One random suicide mission." I rolled over on my back, and rubbed my eyes with both hands, shuddering from the relief coursing through my body like a parade. "I waited. I did my best. God damn I did my best."

I looked at the room around me again. Purple, large, circular bed in the middle. Lined with golden thread and smooth, perfect pillows. Two of which laid under my head. I'd left one of the Fate's cargo crates next to the door, and the dull metal grey looked out of place in the midst of royal decor.

"Won wars. Ended empires. Held hope itself at my fingertips and gave it to people." I shrugged. "Own a company, I guess. Bit impressive. Healthy, wealthy. Family's taken care of." I turned back to one side, and stared at the silent AI. "But who the heck is going to believe this? If I come back saying I found Earth and a bunch of horse-things rule it, I'm gone. Sploosh. Career over."

"Or worse," I said after a minute of thinking. "Art could take the blame. But… no, Art's staying."

"You don't seem at all phased I plan on leaving Art behind, at least temporarily," I said to Emtac, taking a long breath. "Well I do. Don't tell him, though, it's a surprise."

I blew out the candle, the glow from Emtac barely a dent in the near-solid darkness filling the room, and closed my eyes. The covers laid undisturbed below me, and most of the pillows sat in the right places. I didn't want to be too mean to the maids.

I twirled in my seat. The crescent-moon shaped bridge of E.S.S. Georgia twinkled, with each blurred, blinking control panel empty except a few in front of the raised captain's chair. Hard, square, and trimmed with real gold, and lacking any cushions on purpose. Outside the bridge, past the long nose of the Enigma-class battlecruiser, sat an infinite wreckage. Twisted I-beams the size of the Enigma's width floated past. Whole hangars, somehow ejected in the destruction, spun wildly. Bits still burned and exploded.

"Sir, what we do?" one of my crew demanded, turning to face me. I recognized it as one of the admirals from the College, but said nothing of it.

"Uh, I dunno. Jettison escape pods to find survivors?" I said, shrugging.

"Ok." The admiral spun around and started slapping buttons at random.

A person in different uniform strode past the captain's chair and faced me. Dylan Clover, current leader of the Wing, saluted. "We found a man who survived, sir. Shall I bring her in?"

I nodded, then stopped. "Wait, don't you need to be at Gantoris?"

"Here she is, sir," Dylan said, reaching around the captain's chair and procuring the Premier of the college, a red-faced draxian in a long black trenchcoat, two swords sheathed at his side.

"Hey."

"What the heck are you doing out here, Aaro?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. I stood up, but couldn't since I was glued to the seat. "You weren't at the Tolos Station."

"Yeah, I was. You had it killed, remember?"

"What?" I shook my head. "No, no, that's not- I was here to defend it just like the others."

I got up, and strode to the elevator leading to the other decks. There wasn't one there, but the tunnel simply descended into darkness. Reaching out, I grabbed the side of the lift with one hand, stopping myself short.

"Long way down."

"Only way," I said, ignoring the unknown voice. "Decks four through one are compro- wait." I spun around. "You're not my crew. The Georgia fell in the defense of the Kelta system. Years ago."

"Hah!" I shouted, pointing at a deadpan duo of my superiors. "This is a dream. Gotcha!"

"Lucidity is not a talent many have."

"Hey, sweet. Dream-voice." I pointed to the ceiling. "Shut up. My head, my rules. Come on out, little intercom-guy." I looked to the manifestation representing the leader of the Wing. "You."

He blinked.

"What is the meaning of life?"

He stepped forward and pushed me into the infinite black pit of the elevator, his face entirely emotionless.

"You know what?" I asked nobody in particular. Air rushed past me. "That's not very nice and also unexpected."

I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes. When I opened them, I stood at the fourth deck, with a regular mook standing before me. It looked like a much younger Art, dressed in the off-blue grey uniform we gave cadets. I nodded, and made sure all my parts were in one piece, scanning over my legs and hands in meticulous order.

Two extra fingers on my left hand, half a ring-finger missing on the right. Bog-standard.

"Visitor, sir," the Cadet-Art said, motioning to a door.

"Thanks." I walked forward and opened the door, only to be greeted with another large, bulky door of similar design. "Wait. No," I said, chuckling, looking back to Cadet-Art. "This is an airlock. Silly dream-man."

Art said nothing, and continued his robotic staring contest with the wall. I stepped into the airlock anyway, and the moment the inner door closed, something hit the outer one. I jerked, blinking hard. The thud happened again, and then again in a one-two pattern.

"There is no space," I said, closing my eyes and reminding myself that when I opened the door, there would be no vacuum and no depressurization. I'd be fine. I stepped forward, and hit a glowing red button on the side of the airlock.

The door slid open to reveal Princess Luna, floating in the middle of space.

"Greetings!"

"No." I punched the red button, but she slipped through before the airlock shut. "Nah. Nope. No."

Without landing on the ground, she floated before me grinning ear-to-ear. "I did inform you I would prove such a thing were possible. I can indeed traverse the dream-worlds of my subjects."

"I am not your subject," I whined, hitting the inner door open. Art didn't move. "Tell her I'm not her subject, Art."

Art made a "blarg" sound and fell face-forward into the metal floor. Typical.

"See?"

Luna ventured further into the spaceship, her silver-coated hooves hitting the ground and sticking there. "Very curious. Is this what the interior of your vessel looks like?"

"You aren't allowed in my head, Princess. No offense, but it's private."

"I was polite and knocked first, Jackson Amber. You merely let me in."

"Then I am asking you," I growled, stepping closer to the alicorn, until my face stopped six inches from hers. "Leave."

"Sir, that was a statement," Art said from the floor.

Luna's smile faded, and her head dipped toward the floor. "I see." She took on step toward the airlock, the other hoof hovering off the ground. "I had hoped to find another who appreciated the ability. I understand your desire for privacy and will depart at once. I will see you at breakfast tomorrow, Jackson Amber."

She turned around in full, ethereal tail drooping, and pressed the button with a hoof. I watched, grimacing. Psychic horse freaks or not, I'd forgotten the most important rule. They were people. Heck, I thought, the Princess must've been at least half my age at best. I cringed. The historians wouldn't count me hurting the Princess' feelings, but I reminded myself I wasn't on planet Earth for the historians.

I closed my eyes, and focused.

"Wait."

She stopped, one hoof hovering over the red inner-airlock button. I knew because I stayed in control of my dream.

So I changed it, and when I opened my eyes, the two of us stood in pure blackness, an unseen light keeping us visible to one another.

"My head, my rules."

She flinched. "I understand, Captain. I will not bother you any further. Fear not."

"No. You can stay, but just remember that it's my head, and my rules. You change nothing, get to see nothing, but the reward is that you may stay to talk. In retrospect, it's a pretty useful ability."

"I may stay?" Luna asked, ears perking up. "Thank you."

"Like, talking. Without being awake. If you could get multiple brains in here, we'd be able to have a full-blown conference meeting without wasting daylight. I won't get tired from this, right?"

"No," she said, a small smile once more forming on her lips. "And I have not experimented with this ability as often as I should. My job is to simply watch over the dreams of my subjects and make sure they are happy ones, not weave them together."

"Right," I said, rolling my eyes. "Anyways. Let's get started." A grey chair for me appeared alongside a small round table made of white plastic, and a purple cushion mirroring one of the pillows on my bed. I'd already sat down the moment before the chair appeared. "Please, sit."

"You have remarkable control over your dreams," Luna remarked, planting her rear on the purple pillow and placing her hooves face-down on the table. "It takes great concentration, even while lucid."

"I know," I said, my mouth settling into a straight, grim line. "Where I come from, there are some with powers like yours. Not dream-hopping, but mind powers all the same. Most of them use it for ill purposes." Crossing my arms, I closed my eyes and looked at her. "I helped spearhead the creation of a mind-shield technique to block them. The Labyrinthian Way."

Luna's eyes went wider than plates. "I… what? Who would use such gifts for evil? I… this explains why you were so vehement over me being here. I'm so sorry,"

"It's alright. Maybe I should've told you… more precisely why I disliked the intrusion."

"I take it your mind has been infiltrated in the past, then? I cannot imagine the feeling."

Nodding, I sipped from a cup of wine. It tasted like water. "Once. Just imagine how you'd feel if someone waltzed into your bedroom and started ruffling through your personal items, but on a higher level of... truth. Mind-readers peek at the core of people whether they know it or not. Dreams, however," I said, waving my hand to display the pitch surrounding us. "Dreams are new. I've heard stories, but never confirmed it. Most impressive."

"Thank you."

"Now what did you wish to discuss?"

The Princess looked at me for a moment, eyes trailing down to the table in thought. "Anything. I wish to know so much more about you and your people. It is true you come from a different planet, from a different solar system entirely?"

"Correct, but not every star has a world that's habitable, let alone inhabited. If I were to show you a map, it would look as if the entire galaxy were populated, but the reality is that people are much farther apart than it seems. My homeworld, for instance, would be… I'd say a thousand light-years from this system. The Wing's capital system, perhaps twice that."

"Amazing," she whispered, eyes-staring through me, still wide in wonder. "To imagine how far light itself travels in a year is near impossible, even for myself. A thousand light-years, and yet you are here. How do your people travel?"

Chuckling, I shrugged. "I know how to make the engines go vroom, not why they go vroom. The easiest way to explain it is that we make places come to us. Though, there are two methods of doing it." I summoned a miniature version of the Fate, specifically instead of the Homebound. "One is called warp. We sort of drag space, and, er, warp it around the ship. It's like surfing, but a billion times more awesome and only half as dangerous." The Fate jerked, and slowly surfed a ripple in the air around our heads before stopping once it completed a lap.

"An ingenious, if perhaps ludicrous idea," she muttered, entranced by the apparition. "What of this other method?"

"Sort of the same concept," I said, pointing at the Fate. A dotted line appeared mid-air and traced a straight path to somewhere off in the distance. "It's got a few nicknames. Jumping, fishing, reeling, or point-hopping. But mostly jumping. It follows the same concept, except…" I trailed off, letting the example model do the talking. The line scrunched up, and warped around the ship, until the beginning of the line touched the end. Then, it snapped back, but the ship stuck to the end of the line, riding it all the way to its destination.

"It brings the destination to it, moves an inch forward, and then lets go. Big power hog compared to warp, but it turns month-long trips into mere minutes. Also, in order to do it, you need either exact coordinates or a jump-buoy at the destination."

Luna continued staring, mouth shut tight. "This is very exciting, Jackson Amber."

"You have no idea."

"Am I to believe that, should an alliance be created between our two people, this technology will be shared?" she asked, smiling at me.

"No."

Her smile vanished without a trace. "I see. Is this because your people are greedy? Do you wish to keep it for yourselves and monopolize on ponies' ignorance of them?"

"Blunt of you, but no. Trade will mean these technologies are shared, and how it is distributed will be up to you. Often, when we discover less-advanced civilizations, introducing them to our technologies too fast creates… issues. Cultural schisms, rebellions, corporate monopolies, economic crashes. All in the same day."

She nodded, but didn't return the smile. "I understand. It is easy to become caught-up in these... exciting moments." Without another word, her ears perked up. "I am sorry, Jackson Amber, but I must depart post-haste. One of my ponies needs me."

"I assume you'd like to meet up again tomorrow night?"

This time, her smile genuinely returned. "Of course, my friend. I will see you at breakfast."

Then she turned around, and a wooden door, complete with a brass doorknob, appeared in the middle of the black void. She opened it, smiled at me one last time, and walked out of my head.

Mini-Fate whirred noisily around my head, and I crossed my arms over my chest. "She didn't even close the door. It just poofed. Typical."

The blackness faded, and now I sat on a hillside, coated with bright green grass. Displayed below me sat a clean park surrounded by a forest of trimmed, white-leaved trees. I took one long, slurping sip of dream-wine. The Fate flew off, and I smiled at the white towers on the horizon.

~=V=~

I walked into the dining room last, since it took me an hour to make sure my uniform from the day before still could be worn. Wing uniforms were built to withstand constant use and punishment, made with absorption-resistance fabrics and lined with flexible layers of protective material on the inside. The Captains' did, at least. I couldn't speak for the cadets'.

All four extra members of my away team sat at their end of the table, munching on eggs and buttered toast. Except Art took out several protein bars midway through and ate them instead. The other differences laid in how the crew ordered their eggs. Roland got scrambled, and the other two over-easy. I nicked one of Art's protein bars and sat next to him, peeling it open.

Princess Celestia and Luna sat at the opposite end of the table. The pink morning light filtered through the tall glass windows, casting rays across the room where dust floated like stars.

"Good morning, Captain Amber," Celestia said, smiling. "I trust you slept well?"

My eyes trailed from Celestia to Luna, the bar halfway shoved in my mouth. I closed, crunched, and swallowed in half a minute, maintaining loose eye-contact with the two.

"Had some weird dreams."

Luna raised an eyebrow, but made no other move.

"But I'm good. Nice place you've got here. Really… big tables."

Celestia's head slowly tipped downward. "Thank you. Your breakfast will be along in a moment. Please forgive the wait."

"And big doors, and big windows. I guess you are pretty tall," I lied, since the doors were twice Celestia's height and Celestia, even with her ridiculous pointy horn, stood a few inches taller than me.

"Apparently somepony reorganized one of the kitchen refrigerators," she continued, half of a smile appearing on one side of her face. "In the future, please make use of the palace staff for such needs. They are well-equipped to help with anything you might require during your stay."

I nodded, scarfing down the rest of the bar in one bite. Art stared at me, mouth open. I looked around the room, finally, and let my muscles relax. The dining room consisted of one, gigantic table stretching from door-to-door. I guessed the table sat at the same length as the Fate. Four guards stood at each corner, along with a few potted plants and general decor. Gold thread lined the red curtains, each brought aside to reveal the sunrise.

After a minute, I realized that while Celestia ate a meal similar to ours, but with more orange slices and less protein bar, Luna finished up a real dinner. Salad, some sort of mashed potato, and innumerable greenies I didn't recognize.
"To be fair, there weren't any maids out here last night, and I only saw like, one guard."

"Most of the palace has been cleared out, since the nature of your stay is different to most dignitaries. As you captain a vessel, perhaps you will appreciate the term 'skeleton crew.' I do understand the issue, though." Celestia said, taking a sip and reading a couple of papers next to her plate. Parchment instead of paper, but stacked to a fair degree, and some were rolled into scrolls and set aside.

"Today, we will speak to one another about the reason we are here," I announced, sitting up straight. A pony in a white button-up cloak thing and poofy hat appeared from one of the doors, setting in front of me some eggs, toast, and an orange. A fork, knife, and spoon floated by and set themselves on the table.

"I agree. Sometime before noon, I believe, would be best. Eleven-thirty?"

"Sounds good to me. Where?"

"My office."

Nodding, I picked up a fork between two fingers, and gingerly stabbed it into my eggs. "I can do that."

Art nudged me with his foot an instant before he interrupted. "Excuse me, but may I ask a question?"

"You may."

"Earlier, you said you used an active translation spell, and your horn sort of lit up. How can we still understand each other if you're not longer keeping it, er, on?"

Luna spoke before Celestia, her voice duller and more tired since last night. "While she prepared the staff for your arrival yesterday evening, my sister cast a more permanent spell over the palace with similar purpose. However, instead of active alteration of our perception of language, it is a… field, that surrounds us all."

"Interesting. That must take quite a lot of skill," Art said, leaning back. "What if we eventually want to leave the palace, though? How will we communicate?"

"Well for one, you could simply learn our language," Princess Luna deadpanned, blinking once at the commander with half-lidded eyes.

I leaned forward. "That's the long-term goal. He just means temporarily."

"I may have a solution," Celestia said, levitating the stack of papers so that they fell into perfect rectangular shape. "I have not used magic like this in a long time, though. I must re-learn the specifics. Enchantment magic has never been my forte."

"I may be able to help with that, sister," Luna interjected, scooting her chair back and stepping down. "I… I need sleep first, though. Good-day, sister."

"Sleep well, sister," Celestia said, nodding at her departing peer.

I took a few more bites, each time loading the fork with more than it could carry and wolfing it down anyway. The others finished up, letting a maid collect their dishes and take them to the kitchen. Art crumpled up the three protein bar wrappers, grabbed mine, and left while muttering something about finding a trash can.

The door at Celestia's end opened, and a bud-yellow pony trotted through, carrying ten scrolls stacked on her back, stuck between saddlebags bulging with paper on one side, and several feathers stuck out of the other.

"New requests, Princess," she said, ignoring us five interlopers and stopping before the princess, one hoof reaching behind her and holding up the pile of scrolls to the princess. "Abacus wasn't very fond of the changes to the city budget and has written a letter of complaint. I put it on the bottom for you, your highness."

"Thank you, Ms. Flower, but I will not be conducting requests for the time being," Princess Celestia said in between bites of toast. The aid's eyes widened, one twitched, and the stack of scrolls slowly tipped to one side and scattered across the floor.

"I-I-I- o-okay. Uh. Oh. Of course, Princess Celestia. I. Uh." Her left eye twitched, and she gathered the pile of scrolls back onto her saddlebacks. "Right! Just… no more requests."

"If they complain, please tell them that I am busy with important diplomatic matters," Celestia said, sipping from a steaming cup of tea. "And I am not to be disturbed. After that, I think you've earned a vacation for a few days."

"O-of course. I'll… go do that. Um," the mare muttered, casting a sideways glance at the five of us. We froze mid-stare, and only Art blinked once. "Who are they?"

"Diplomats from far away. Actually." She paused, taking a long, careful sip from the porcelain teacup. "I will take care of replying to the requests if you would do something for me." Looking to Art, who'd just walked through the door, she motioned to him with one hoof. "That is Commander Boyo, and he showed some interest in exploring the Canterlot Archives this morning. Could you please show him around and answer any questions he may have?"

"Will do," she chirped, shoulders sagging.

"I will take this, then," Celestia said, horn lighting up. The saddlebags weighing down the earth pony lifted up and moved beside her chair. Ms. Flower took a deep breath and exhaled, then trotted around the table to Art.

"Greetings." He bent his knees and stooped low, offering a hand out. "Artzian Boyo, but you can call me Art."

"May Flower," she replied, sticking a hoof into his hand and shaking. "But May is fine too. Or Ms. Flower, I guess. The Archives are right this way."

The short mare led him out, and the door slammed shut. By the time I looked back to Celestia, her side of the table sat clean, and she stood beside her chair. "Captain Amber."

"Yes?"

"Eleven-thirty."

"Got it." I stood up, and my crew followed. "Actually, where is the yard? A gym? Any place to exercise?"

Celestia smirked. "I realize you are military men, Captain. The Royal Guard barracks is cleared for you to use, and I extended the translation spell to cover their grounds. Simply ask any guard, and he'll point you in the right direction."

"That's it, then. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I will see you later, Captain."

With the princess gone, I turned to my team, who already stood at attention. One side of my mouth perked up. "Fantastic. Who want's to go run laps and spar?"

Roland grinned while the women's mouths dropped to thin, pursed lines.

~=V=~

Roland groaned, one cushion-wrapped hand propping him up.

"Another round?" I asked, holding a hand down and helping him up. We both panted in heavy, ragged breath, but he accepted.

"I think I'm out," he sputtered, chuckling. I brought him over to a bench to the side of the grassy, rectangular arena, and let him rest. "Clocked me good. Nearly thought I'd broken a rib."

"Well if it hurts too much, we'll get Aran to take you back to the Homebound's medbay. Speaking of…" I turned around just in time to see the two women jog forward, sweat dripping down their faces, though most of it soaked into Aran's fur. We'd all taken off the uniforms, wearing just white undershirts and pants. The Royal Guard's training grounds laid empty before us, bar a few errant, armorless guards working the weights or running laps. I surveyed the scene and grinned.

"That's ten laps, sir," Aran huffed, the two ensigns plopping down next to Roland and taking a long drink of water from a cluster of bottles near the bench.

"Well, Roland. Guess they've set your time."

"Yay," he replied without a trace of enthusiasm but quite a bit of annoyance.

"Five minute break," I said, grabbing my own bottle and downing it in three gulps. "You've got your standard unarmed defense down, Roland, but you're too stiff. You're going to break your arms if you block blows like that. And you use your fists. Bar-brawling all they teach you in the academies nowadays?"

"Yessir," Roland groaned, head flopping backward.

"And you two." I pointed at the others and waggled my finger between them. "Don't think you're free. After break, you go in the ring."

Lilian made a very unladylike sound from the back of her throat, and Aran turned to glare at me, crossing her arms. "With all due respect, sir. She is an engineer and I am a doctor. I can defend myself just fine when I need to."

"Wing doctor," I said, pointing at her. "Wing engineer." I pointed at Lilian. "Not civilians, military. Heck, you've been on minor missions before, during the Commander's field-training. I know all of you can shoot a gun and punch a face."

"Violence never sat well with me," Aran said.

"So you joined a military."

"It was necessary."

I nodded as if I understood. "For?"

"I…" she muttered, looking down. "My family served as Wing doctors during the Galactic Wars. I continue their service, as is tradition."

My breathing finally steadied, I put both hands to my hips and stared hard at her. "You lived on Feros Tyr during the wars?"

"Yes." She jerked her head back up and narrowed her eyes at me. "So if you still want to know if I can fight, there is no need to ask."

I nodded again, pouring bucket-loads of sarcasm into the gesture, and stepped backward until my feet crossed the white-paint edge of the arena. "I'm not asking if you can fight. This is just training, ensign. A sparring match is nothing compared to a real fight."

She stood up, her own breathing leveled, and put the bottle of water down. I stared at her, checking her stance and walk. Lithe body, and a few muscles pulsed along her arms and across her belly. Teryn were notorious for hand-to-hand, but I never thought that was fair since they had claws.

Athletic and agile. Doctor or not, I smiled at the idea of the fight to come. We both walked to opposite sides of the ring, the sun bearing down on us like we needed the extra weight. I took a deep breath, put one foot out, and settled into position, one foot in front of the other, ready to jump at a moment's notice.

Aran dropped into a crouch. I didn't recognize the style, but she looked like a coiled spring. "What form is that?" I asked.

"Tek-soi. Yours?"

"Ban hoy pan. Teryn form. Friend taught me."

She raised her fists to eye-level, glaring at me from behind them. "Was he teryn?"

I did the same, pointing my elbows straight, while hers faced out. "No."

"Tsk." She took a deep, steady breath, and I kept careful watch over her muscles, looking for the hint at her first move.

"Begin."

Aran leapt up into a sprinter's stance and charged, and I shuffled forward a few feet to meet her, readying my right leg to sweep out in an arc to slam into her shins. With a yard between us, I dipped low, committing to the move only to meet open air. The teryn dodged to my left, landing on one leg while the other used her momentum to tuck, spin, and kick out toward my own legs. She connected with my side, near the kidney, and withdrew.

I staggered, falling back into defensive stance while she circled around me. Shuffling forward, I hazarded two quick jabs to the head, both blocked by her arms, then fell back half a meter. Without hesitating, she sprang forward, dancing around a punch to the head and swiping at my shin. I lifted the leg up before she hit and slammed into her gut, forcing her to whirl back, gasping.

"You went for my head?" she sputtered, putting her arms back up.

I didn't give her a break, rushing forward and sending a flurry of punches into her torso, forcing her to focus her defense there while I readied to knock her down. My kick hit the inside of her shin, and she fell at an angle.

Before she hit the ground, both of her hands shot out, one grabbing my left arm, and the other my shoulder. With a heavy push, she used me as a launch point, kicking with her free leg and swinging around me, while at the same time pushing me to the ground. She skidded to a stop feet-first, dropping to a crouch and sprinting back at me. Spinning on one foot, I wheel-kicked her in the side of the head, or I would have if she hadn't ducked and swept her leg out, hitting me at a critical point in the spin and sending me sprawling to the side. I rolled out of the way of a follow-up, jumping to my feet a few meters.

Now she stood where I started, and I in the middle of the arena.

"Full-contact. Anything goes, long as you win. You knew the rules." I panted, breathing hard under the hundred-degree sun. "Maybe except biting. And breaking. Please don't bite me."

She sneered, and we closed the circle. I didn't get to move before she kicked out, hitting my left leg, and before she touched the ground she kicked at my right. I tightened my stance, weathering the constant hits until my thighs felt like she'd beaten them with a meat tenderizer.

Then I punched her in the face the moment her hands dropped to counterweight the constant kicking. She reeled back, and I swung my arm around to her head and landed a hit on her shoulder, swinging the other in the same way, but this time clipping off the shoulder and hitting the side of her head. With both my arms occupied, she jabbed forward, both fists hitting my chest at the same time.

I took her opening and grabbed her arms, pushing her backward and sending a front-kick into her gut. She gasped, staggered, and hunched forward. Taking the time I'd earned, I dodged around her, swiping at her leg and not meeting any resistance. She toppled, and tried to roll out of the way, arms still tucked into her belly.

In the middle of her roll, she pushed out, launching herself into the air and using the momentum to land on her feet. I moved in, throwing punch after punch and only being met with a precise deflection, forcing myself closer to her with each swing. With only a third of a meter between our heads, I swung beneath her defenses. She winced, both arms lowering to deflect the blow.

I headbutted her, one hand on her shoulder while the other harmlessly bounced off her arms, only to swing back up and grab her other shoulder.

"What?" she hissed, shaking her head.

I headbutted her again, but this time she jerked backward to negate the blow, her arms rising and wrapping around mine, tangling them. I tugged back, but she held me in place, hands digging into my shoulderblades. Taking a deep breath, she jumped up, loosened her grip on me, and kicked off from my gut with both feet.

Landing on my rear, I gasped for air while she rolled back into position, once more settling into the starting stance. I stood up, breathing hard. Blood ran down her inhuman, animalistic nose and matted the fur along her neck.

"That wasn't ban hoy pan," she said between laughs.

I shrugged, holding my fists up, and chuckled. "I know. That was for fun. Sorry about your nose."

"Sorry about yours."

"But-" She sprung into motion, dancing around my reactive punch and grabbing my outstretched arm, swinging around and forcing me to follow. Despite being half my size, the woman threw me over her back, but instead of twirling me sideways like I expected, throwing my arms out to counterbalance that move, she set me right-side up. My own failure in judgement did the rest, staggering me to one side while I turned to meet her.

The set-up worked, and when I turned in full, I got a face full of the same wheel-kick I'd tried to give her.

I landed on my face, and no amount of freshly-cut, perfectly green grass can mimic a training mat. I hit hard, and laid there for a few seconds, the blades tickling my lips with each frantic pump of my lungs..

"You okay?" she asked after a bit, holding up a cloth Roland handed her. She pressed it against her face, making her voice more nasal than usual.

I groaned from the bottom of my throat, rolling over to see the cloudless sky. Lilian walked over, one hand out, and I took it without complaint. Once I finished steadying myself, she let go and handed me a cloth. "Your nose, sir."

"Thanks," I mumbled, pressing it to my face and sighing. At least I didn't have fur to stain, or a beard. A few drops of blood nevertheless fell to my white undershirt.

"That was frickin' sweet," Roland said, pumping a fist. "I didn't even last half that long."

Quirking an eyebrow, I tilted my head at him.

"Against her, I mean," he said, stepping back with both palms up. "No offense."

I held out my free hand to Aran, and she shook it. "Good job," I said in my own nasally tone. "That last bit wasn't tek-soi, though."

"I know. For fun." She smirked, and we both chuckled. We walked over to take a much-needed rest on the bench, and I told Roland he'd forgotten to run his ten laps. By the time he finished just one, I'd downed two more bottles and sat, legs spread, rubbing the outside of my thighs. Lilian wandered off, and at the third bottle, I spotted her talking with one of the guards.

"Break anything? You know we don't have enough biomend to allow standard training and PT."

"Nah, just hurts. A lot. Gonna be bruises all over the place before I inject bioment," I replied, eyes closed. "I might get sunburned, too."

"I'm going to need a shower."

"Same. What time is it?"

"Eleven," Art announced from behind us. I flinched, but didn't open my eyes. The commander's shadow fell across my face, and I enjoyed the brief respite from the sun. "I'm back from the library and you've got our first pitch in twenty, sir."

"I am aware."

"Sir… you're bloodied and look like you just went swimming. It's rude to greet royalty while in such condition."

One eye peeking open, I frowned at him, and sighed. "You hate royalty."

"Not liking something does not mean I refuse to educate myself about it. I can take over from here… and I need a good run."

"Eurguh," I grumbled, forcing myself into a sitting position, wincing at the pain in my legs and arms. They whined more when I stood, and I took two deep, steadying breaths. "I'm good. You learn anything?"

"Yeah," he grabbed my shoulder, and I saw my uniform jacket tucked under his arm. We walked across the field, and Art waved to Roland when the ensign passed by. "I learned a lot of weird stuff."

"Like?" I asked, forcing his arm off me and walking on my own. "Whole place is weird so far."

"For one, if the books are correct, those princesses are over a thousand years old."

I balked, stopping in my tracks and turning to stare at him, brow furrowed.

"I had the same reaction. It might be propaganda, but…"

"Psychics are weird." I nodded slowly. "I met with Luna last night, and she said something that sounded like they use their powers to manipulate celestial bodies."

"Same thing in the archives. Every single text said Princess Celestia raises the sun and Princess Luna raises the moon. Both are the wisest ponies in the world. And so on. It sounds like controlled media to me, which means we're dealing with some very sinister manipulators." He took a deep breath, and shook his head at the ground. "I'm worried we're playing into their hands. Er, hooves. That or we're about to make lying dictators our allies."

"We've made worse," I grumbled, and we kept walking. "But I don't know about it. Last night, Luna claimed she could extend her consciousness into dreams. That it's her responsibility, even, to monitor the dreams of her subjects."

Art's eyes went wide. "For real? That's the freakiest thing I've heard all day. I read an article about how the Empirium's leadership does the same thing, claiming they can read people's minds to scare them."

I frowned. "She did it, though. Didn't seem to know it's a violation of privacy. Went lucid, so I remember it all."

"Wow," Art trailed off, whistling one long, sour note. "You didn't... hurt her, did you? I heard stories about you locking yourself in rooms with readers or empaths. People think you're scarier than Admiral Fenway when it comes to, I don't know, that stuff. Dealing with psychics." He winced, even though he said dealing as if it were a business transaction.

We left the grounds, once more stepping on the paved path heading to the palace. The barracks sat situated between the palace and the rest of the city, as I understood. The architecture provided a stark difference, with the building itself made of red brick and square bits.

"I didn't, but I made sure she knew the rules," I said after a minute. "She's- I don't know. If you didn't just tell me they were older than most current civilizations, I'd think they were your age and half as experienced. Luna, at least. But she's powerful. If they are that old, and can toss around planets… or stars...."

Art whistled again. "We're in deep, then." We kept walking, coming up to the front entrance of the palace. I nodded at the guards, and they opened the big, eight-meter high wooden doors. Art pulled me aside before I could get close.
"One more thing, since you mentioned it. There were only two mentions of both the princesses back then, a thousand years ago. Everything else is about Celestia. It- maybe it's nothing, but it stuck out to me. It's as if her sister stopped existing for a millennium." He shook his head. "I dunno, but it seems weird to me. It's a huge inconsistency."

"Proof they're editing history?" I raised an eyebrow. "That's big. And I thought we made good liars."

"Diplomats, sir."

"Good diplomats." I patted him on the shoulder and took a step back. "Thanks for the warning."

"Oh, also, two other things," he called. "Ponies aren't big on war or fighting. Conflict is bad. They're also really, really big on friendship. A bit unsettling to me. So, uh, don't play up the military part of the Wing's operation. Or violence in general. Focus on trade, culture, and, shoot, I don't know, friendship."

I grinned. "Don't worry, I'm great at diplomatting. Have fun, and remember to spar with Lilian. I didn't get a chance to."

He nodded, waved, and we parted ways. I'd memorized the general layout of the castle by now, sticking to the inside of the turns and cutting across hallways to my room. Sweat from the heated workout dripped from my skin, and I resisted the urge to tear my undershirt off before I reached my room.

"Welcome back, sir," Emtac chirped when I shut the door.

"Uh-huh. You ready for the big moment?" I asked, throwing my shirt aside and walking straight across the room to the bathroom.

"Indeed, sir. You have ten minutes. Shall I draw a bath?"

I snorted, running cold water from the faucet and splashing it against my face, scrubbing the dried blood with a purple towel. "Good to see you've formed a sense of humor, Emtac."

"But you didn't laugh."

I took the towel and wet it, scrubbing around my arms and chest to get off excess sweat. It took a few minutes, and the freezing water sent a shuddering shiver each time it touched me.

"By the way, sir. Thirty minutes ago you received a message from the Homebound. It was not marked urgent, so I did not deem it necessary to warn you."

I groaned, rolling my eyes at the mirror. I left my datapad in my room since it'd just annoy me during the workout, and the tubular device sat next to Emtac on the table. "Who from?"

"Ensign Arlen, sir."

"The teryn? I could've sworn a draxian managed communications. Silau."

"Shall I play it?"

I nodded, wetting the towel again and cleaning up my hair. I picked up a brush, realized Emtac couldn't see me, and sighed. "I'm listening."

Peering around the bathroom doorway, I watched Emtac's top split open, a holographic image of the clean-coated, pristine teryn man, hands behind his back, flickered into view. He coughed once into his fist, and nodded.

"Captain Amber, sir. I apologize for the recorded message, but we could not reach you at the time." He shrugged, face betraying no emotion. I pursed my lips, and went back to fixing my hair so it returned to an unruffled, slicked-back position. "I will be blunt, being up here is excruciatingly boring. We're in orbit at 27,600 kilometers per second and, finished your scan of the planet Earth, and continue to confirm that, yes, it is an exact match. The other planets, while far from visual range, tell the same story."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, slapping a bit of hair gel into my hands and running it over my scalp. I flinched, my already slimy fingers running over a bumpy scar I'd gotten a year ago, barely visible even with my hair back. "Skip the small talk."

"As time went on, however, we noticed something very… odd, about the Sol system. Specifically, Sol itself. Last night I ordered the AI to keep an eye on it while we got some rest, and the results are, it seems, conclusive. This system is geocentric."

I paused, one hand glued to my forehead, and my eyes trailed from the bottom of the sink to meet the mirror-me's gaze.

"We're continuing the tests, of course, sir. Even the AI seems incredulous and we're checking and re-checking the sensors for possible malfunction. Ensign Jones is performing an EVA to check them as we speak, as earlier credibility tests said there were no issues, but we didn't believe them. Until then, the system revolves around Earth. Please contact me for an update on the situation when you can, sir. Ensign Arlen out."

I shrugged the towel off my shoulders so it wrapped around my arm, and ran my hands under the cold water and towel to wipe off the remaining gel. With a last once-over with the the mirror, I stepped into the bedroom, shivering.

"Are you alright, sir? Your silence indicates distress. I too am incredulous of the ensign's claims."

"We just found Earth," I said after a minute of standing still in the room, only a few wisps of light peeking out from behind the closed curtains. "And it's guarded by two of the most powerful beings I've ever met. We are no longer walking on just thin ice, Em. We're walking over wet paper. That's covered in broken glass. And on fire."

"How so, sir?"

"The most powerful psychic I've ever met couldn't even dent a planet, let alone push around stars in their free time. If I were superstitious, I'd say we were dealing with a god." I sighed, walking to the bed and throwing the jacket on. I didn't bother to smooth it out or adjust the pin. I fastened it, took a deep breath, and turned to the mirror.

"Emtac, you're coming with me. We're about to decide the fate of the Wing."

"If only I had adrenal programming to simulate excitement."

I chuckled, and put my datapad with Emtac attached around my left arm, clicking it into place along the uniform's sockets. Next, I picked up the VALK laying under the bedside table, spinning it around to check it over. Nothing out of place, and the coordinates still pointed to the Fate's interior.

Opening the exit and making to leave, I met a grey unicorn guard standing outside the door. "Princess Celestia has sent for you. Please follow me."

I nodded, and we set off down the winding corridors, this time further toward the overhanging towers and away from the dining room, kitchens, and main hall. I didn't know when, but after five minutes I looked out the window and saw that we'd gone past the mountain ledge. Only a genius bit of marble engineering and architecture sat between me and a minute-long drop. A minute is very short when watching a clock, but I knew from experience that it'd be an eternity to fall.

"How old is this place?" I asked, moving back from the window with a disgruntled look crossing my face.

"Over nine hundred years old. Canterlot goes back as far as Equestria," the guard replied. "I forget the exact date, though. Sorry. Guards don't normally give the tours."

"You'd be a poor guard if you did," I muttered. "Seems like a boring station."

"Less than you'd think. Princess Celestia's quarters are right around this corner."

I balked, stopping short a step and catching myself on the wall before I tripped. "Whoa, wait," I called, blinking a few times. "Her personal quarters? She said her office."

He looked up at me, stone-faced, and blinked once. "I wasn't there, so I dunno. Just followin' orders." We rounded the corner, and I took a deep breath. A gigantic mahogany door, half as big as the front entrance's, stood where he pointed us to. Complete with gold trimming and a stylized sun carved into both, it towered above me.

The guard knocked, his hoof slamming five times into the wood. The sound echoed across the hallway. A trickle of ice-cold sympathy ran into my bloodstream. Every leader dealt with The Sound.

"Let him in, guard," I heard the faint voice of the princess call.

The door opened, and I stepped forward.

"Nice place," I said, and meant it. Where most of Canterlot enjoyed copious amounts of white-and-gold coloring, expensive looking carpets, and weighed me down with a clear, clinical, but altogether not unenjoyable clean smell, Celestia's room felt like a home. A light periwinkle carpet spread from wall-to-wall, and it took me another moment to realize that there was only one wall. The first room was circular, with other cylindrical alcoves intended into the sides, where rounded bookshelves displayed hundreds of tomes. Two curtains leading to different rooms sat opposite one another on the far wall.

Celestia stood in the middle, behind a dark-brown round table with the same group of scrolls from before scattered across it. Three pillows sat in triangular formation, and most of the decorations: bookshelves, windows, dressers, and the odd plant seemed to make their own three-point formation.

I kept my eyes trained on her, but my peripheral vision revealed the three windows were stained glass. I only saw the farthest design, the same stylized sun carved into the doors and tattoo'd on her rear end.

"Thank you, Captain. I apologize for the change in scenery."

"It's no problem. Not the worst treatment I've had at the hands of royalty. You and your sister have been nothing but kind to me, and I appreciate it."

She smiled. "I'm glad you think so. You and your crew have also been good guests."

"I'd hope so," I said, mirroring her smile. After a second passed, I clapped my hands together. "Well! I'm loving the place, Princess. Nice staff, very pretty… stuff. Thank you for letting my crew use the barracks' training grounds, by the way."

Celestia nodded once, and pointed to one of the cushions. "Canterlot Castle's staff is always prepared for visitors, even unexpected ones. It isn't every day we are visited by diplomats who are not only that, but soldiers and explorers."

"Wingmen are jacks of all trades, so I appreciate the compliment. Most people just think we're stock military types with no other training. I hope it's not off-putting at all, considering the peaceful nature of Equestria."

"I know word is traveling through the Royal Guard already. Do not be surprised if they become testy." Her horn lit up, and I shivered. A white light flashed on the table, and a white, purple lined teapot appeared with two cups beside it. Jasmine-scented steam wafted out of the pot's nose, and I took a deep breath of it.

I chuckled and sat on the lavender pillow, and she the orange. I grinned, putting both my hands palms down on the table. Twenty years felt like a grain of salt against the bucket load of time she'd had running a country. I played a card. "Man, I hate small talk. You do this every day?"

She levitated a cup, pouring the sweet-smelling liquid to the brim, and placed it in front of me. I waited until she'd poured her own up before I shuffled, uncomfortable in the silence. Horn still lit with a liquid-like golden aura, she lifted her cup and pressed it to her lips. I blinked. The tea looked like it'd just finished boiling. "That," she said after a sip, smiling softly, "is one of the most reassuring things I've heard in a political meeting."

"Yeah," I shrugged, ignoring the tea for the moment. "Glad you nixed the office, really. Never liked politicking. Or big offices."

Celestia took another sip. "When I spoke with Luna, she seemed to think you're less stuffy than the politicians I am used to dealing with. My office is for them, and putting you in the same category felt unnecessary."

"Your sister is both smart and a good judge of character."

Quirking an eyebrow, she gave me a sideways glance. "I thought you said you disliked small-talk?"

"I said hate, and I meant it." I put one hand on the table and fiddled with the teacup's handle, watching the liquid slosh against the sides, millimeters from spilling over with the slightest nudge. "But I don't give out compliments loosely. What else did she tell you?"

"Everything she knew. You impressed her with a preview of possible technological advances. She would love to speak again with you tonight."

I smirked. "When I'm awake or asleep?"

"That is your decision. I understand your dislike for mind-magic, and wouldn't want any of you to feel uncomfortable. True alliances and friendships are not born of caution. Speaking of…." she trailed off, setting her teacup down and pointing her eyes to mine. "It is time you told me about the organization you represent."

Removing my hand from the cup, I prodded at my datapad, slipping my fingers under between it and my arm to unhitch it from the uniform. I placed it and Emtac on the table, and maneuvered so that Emtac's holographic emitter sat in the exact middle. "First, I'd like you to meet one of my AI units. Emtac, hologram mode."

The device hummed, and wisps of blue rose from the emitter, coalescing into a small, upside-down exclamation point. His dull, pleasant voice crackled to life. "Hello, sir. I see we are at the meeting. I hope."

"I really need to get you a camera, Emtac." I laughed, gesturing to Celestia. "You're between Princess Celestia and me. We've just started the meeting. Princess, this is Emtac."

She raised her head, smiling. "I assume this is one of your communication devices? It is nice to meet you, Emtac, if only by this impersonal method."

"Pleasure to meet you, your majesty. You look great today."

"Thank you."

"I'm also blind."

Shaking my head and rolling my eyes, I interjected before an AI caused a diplomatic incident. "It's not a comms unit, Princess. Emtac is an artificial intellect. An advanced computer capable of relative simulated sapience. He's a machine with a sort of personality. We use them because they can both think a thousand times faster than us and perform certain creative tasks. Emtac is an advanced model, but isn't capable of the same tasks as most AI."

"I'm useless, but good company."

"I'll use him for visual effects only during the meeting."

"Very well," Celestia said, taking another long sip of jasmine tea. "Please, continue."

I took a deep breath, and on cue, Emtac weaved together a spinning, three-dimensional version of the Wing's logo: a winged diamond. "The galaxy, Princess, is a dangerous place. Even a single star system is big enough to burden the people with managing it. Running both a planet, sometimes more, managing an entire sector of space can bankrupt even the best of them. We are a peacekeeping organization that keeps planets - systems - safe from outside harm. We help regulate disputes between peoples and, generally, make sure everyone gets along. You could call us a police force, but we aren't, as you've noticed. Our people act as diplomats aiding those we protect, explorers and scientists to seek out new worlds or further our understanding of the universe, and, when need be, soldiers to protect those who cannot do so themselves."

Emtac's image changed to a series of twelve blue circles. "Right now, the Wing oversees the protection and cooperation of twelve systems, with around twice as many habitable planets. Each government operates with free reign as long as they do not violate certain laws, which are mostly there to prevent unfairness. Governments under our protection otherwise are near autonomous. There is a small tax, of course, but the benefits and freedom it allows are worth it."
The Princess smirked, and interjected when I took a breath. "So, you are similar to bodyguards?"

"I wouldn't put it so simply, but yeah." I shrugged. "On a much, much larger scale. So, say, you had a trade dispute with one of your neighbors. You have the freedom to either sort it out amongst yourselves, or call in the Wing to mediate."

Celestia closed her eyes and let out a long breath. "You seem truthful, Captain. On the surface, there is little left to be desired in such a deal."

"I'm not asking you to accept right away, and I'm not going to force you to do anything. That's no way to make friends, in my experience."

"Then your experience has made you wise." She opened her eyes. "I believe these meetings will continue. I would prefer seeing the detailed contract before making any decisions. Nevertheless, you have our attention."

"I'm glad you see the immediate benefits of joining, Princess," I said, smiling. I wrapped a finger around the teacup's handle, lifted it, and spilled a bit of the hot, flowery liquid into my mouth. Well-brewed tea sat better with me than coffee ever did. "I'll have a copy of the contracts most planets sign made and give it to you in the morning."

"After I have educated myself, then we will resume discussion. I look forward to our continued talks." She paused, cup halfway to her lips, and looked at me with narrowed eyes. "I do have a few questions before you go."

"Shoot."

"First and foremost, what if we refuse?"

I blinked dumbly, and step my hands flat on the table. "Nothing," I said after a few seconds. "We'll still offer you our friendship via a defensive alliance alongside trade agreements. Within a few years, you could have burgeoning colonies on a few planets. It will be much, much harder than if we could fund you directly, though."

"I take it that donating your technology and funds would be out of the question."

"Wing money's tight as is. We could work out a shady deal via dummy companies and fake projects, but that's entirely unethical and there'd be public outrage." I shook my head. "We're meant to protect and serve people, not lie to them."

Celestia sighed. "It's wise of you to avoid that scenario in the first place, then. Breaking your laws, even if it meals helping Equestria, is not in anypony's interests."

I paused for a long while, the two of us ruminating in the brief, but exhausting talk. By the time I next spoke, half my tea had disappeared and the princess poured herself another. "You don't want to tie Equestria to us, do you? I don't blame you. Many think they can become independant systems by their own initiative. It's tempting to try and do everything yourself. It's also prideful." Taking a deep breath, I took a sip of the tea and furrowed my brow. "We're not a crutch to lean on. We're an umbrella. Nobody gets embarrassed about umbrellas."

A low, whooping sound escaped her mouth, and after a few repeats it escalated into a full chuckle. I blinked a couple times, leaning back an inch. After a few chuckles, Celestia put a hoof on the table and smiled. "It isn't that at all. At first glance, you've given very solid ground for Equestria to join you and it was a well-performed pitch."

"Oh." My muscles lost tension, and my shoulders briefly drooped in relief before I fixed my posture. "Thanks?"

"Perhaps, work on your small talk next time. Tomorrow we can meet at the same time, in here, with a copy of that contract."

"It's a long one."

"I assure you, I am very used to it." Without warning, she stood up in one fluid, graceful motion, and the tea set vanished in a flash of light. "I would spend more time talking with you, but I will be busy for the rest of the day. Duty calls."

"I'd be alarmed if you weren't. Running a country isn't for the lazy." I followed her lead, grabbing Emtac and clicking him back in place on my arm.

"Most of my work consists of freeing up the next few days," she said, leading me back to the huge wooden door. I took one last whiff of jasmine, and she opened the exit with her magic. We stood in the doorway, and she looked down to me, the same soft smile stuck where it'd always been.

"It was a nice talk, however short. Good luck with the politics. Fun stuff." I chuckled in a dry tone, shaking my head. I stopped a few steps outside the door, and turned to look at her. "I do have a question, and I'd appreciate an honest answer."

"Ask, and I shall be truthful," she said, golden aura still wrapped around the door handle.

I turned to face her in full, and huffed. "Are you and your sister a thousand years old?"

Celestia's smile didn't falter, but she raised an eyebrow. "And which pony told you that?"

"Not important. I just wanted an honest answer. I won't judge you, no matter what the truth is."

"Technically speaking, my sister and I are both over a millennium old."

I took a deep breath and let it out in a low whistle. "Seriously?"

"Very."

"That's… uh," blinking, I turned on my heel and took one step down the hallway, still looking at her, one corner of my mouth curving upward. "You look really good. Considering." I winked and took a few steps.

"Have a good day, Captain," she called back, shutting the door a moment later. I aimed for my quarters, shoulders dropping the instant I heard the great wooden slabs click into place.

I slammed the flat of my palm into my face. "Really? 'Considering?' What the hell?"

~=V=~

Art and I met up six hours later. After I left Celestia's impromptu meeting room and entered my own, I threw of my jacket, flopped on the bed, and purposefully threw my internal clock for a loop by sleeping until dinner.

Fish and some sort of lightly fried, sliced potato adorned the plates, surrounded by various vegetables. I ate mine within the first ten minutes and spent the rest making small talk with Celestia and Art, which boiled down to some of the other nations on their world and how they might react.

Equestria, I gathered after thirty minutes, covered almost an entire continent. The catch of their near-feudal system meant mayors had the run of the place, despite not being official lords and ladies with titles and family houses. Canterlot sat at the heart of the kingdom, and controlled things to the best of its ability.

"But you still don't have a hundred percent control?" I asked at one point.

"We don't have instant communication between towns. I'm sorry if it's a big wilder than what you're used to."

"No kidding."

The rest of the talk surrounded just how wild Equestria was. Criminals were scarce, but only because monsters took their place. I balked at the description of hydras and dragons. In terms of civilization, Equestria had no right to exist. A roaming dragon should've taken out a town here, a hydra scaring off settlers there. Canterlot sat upon a pedestal and the rest swam in chaos.

The longer we went on, the more sly looks Art threw my way. "How'd it go?" he asked once Celestia turned to speak with the chef about the new meal-plan. I glanced her way before I answered, hoping for her ears to flick in our direction, even for a moment, to confirm my suspicions.

"She didn't say?"

"I went to my room to do the work you asked. Didn't have time."

"And you left the ensigns alone?"

"They're soldiers. Most of their job is to be stand around bored."

Snorting, I shook my head. "I know. That's what I was worried about."

"So how did it go?"

Once more, I peeked over at Celestia, and saw nothing. I knew better. "I think we'll make good friends with the Equestrians. Sunny over there is just wise enough to extend our talks so she can learn more about us. You're better at paperwork than I am, so you'll go over the basic contract tomorrow."

"But there are no basic contracts. We tailor them to the government that signs them. I guess I could eliminate the, uh, unique stuff from a couple and splice one together. It'll take all night and maybe a bit of tomorrow."

"Well it'd be rude to keep her waiting. You can borrow Emtac if you want."

He sighed, closing his eyes. "Thanks. He'll be good. I'll just stay up late."

Smirking, I gave a short nod to the Princess. "And I'll be with you even if I'm not there. Blue-coat wants to see me tonight. Private meeting. Hopefully with less unwilling dream intrusions."

"Hopefully with less creepy dream intrusions?"

"Precisely. I don't like things messing in my head. Then we should meet up before breakfast tomorrow, to talk about protocol." I leaned forward, narrowing my eyes and lowering my whisper to a whisp on the wind. "What protocol we do and don't follow, I mean."

He followed my lead. "The College?"

I nodded once, and only a centimeter. "What they won't know won't hurt them."

"Risky."

"I want to be friends with these people, but there's always at least one greedy jerk in the College who will demand we put forth a harsher contract. We're going to be fair, no matter what." Mentally checking that the Princess stayed directly behind me, I gave him a quick, emotionless wink.

He nodded. "I understand."

We turned back to our meals, and I spent the rest of dinner in relative silence, answering a few errant questions about diets alien to Equestria. The single educational fact from the experience became knowing what the ponies did and did not approve of eating.

Cattle, I learned, were sapient on Earth.

We all got up to leave at half past seven, a full hour since I'd sat down. Art leaned over to Roland and Lilian, asking them to get a more in-depth tour of the castle before nightfall. Both saluted, then ran down the opposite hall, uniform jackets billowing out behind them.

I unhooked Emtac and slid him off my arm, rubbing the unconstrained spot while Art fixed the device to himself. With the room cleared, Art nodded, and walked out, leaving me to tower over Aran.

"I assume you-" she started, stopped by my raised fist and glare.

"Are about to punish you. Yes," I finished in a dry tone, wrapping my hands behind my back. "The others followed orders, so they get to go take a nice, educational break from their own duties. You were insubordinate, so you get to go scouting with me."

"With all due respect, sir. I had my reasons to deny a sparring session. If you gave any other order, I would've obeyed it."

Rolling my eyes, I sighed, shaking my head. After a second, I clicked my tongue twice. "What a shame. I read the mission logs for the Homebound crew and figured Art had done his best work yet."

I clenched my fists into one another, fingers entangled and rigid. The last of the day's light swept over the valley outside the windows, and I stepped to look out. A forest sprawled over the countryside, only interrupted by a miniscule village and winding river, the cyan sky reflected in it.

"One more act of insubordination and you'll be send to the Homebound's brig."

"We have a brig?"

"No, but I'll build one if I have to. You forget we're on an active mission, not some vacation world like Parinin. Every single thing you do here must have purpose. And my ultimate purpose is to bring Earth into this galaxy, whether it be by induction or alliance. Every word will echo through these halls."

I shuddered, sucking in a deep breath, and turned my head to see her with one eye, standing at attention. "Anything to say about that."

A bulge in her throat bobbed in a swallowing motion, and she locked her eyes onto mine. "I apologize sir. I'm used to going on combat missions, and the strange, unorthodox nature of this mission confused me at the start. It won't happen again, sir."

"Good." I turned back to face the window. "And remember. The Wing is just as much as political entity as a military one. Rigidness in purpose only hurts us, so we become good at many things."

"Jack of all trades, master of some," she said, and her outline in the reflection nodded. "There are other ways the saying goes."

"And they're stupid. Overspecialization only ever hurts a society, and the Wing's lasted this long with its dual-purpose agenda. I might not be an expert at diplomacy, but it's a handy tool. Now, on to your punishment."

"Scouting, you said."

"I know," I said between chuckles, and turned to face her. "Follow me." I strode from the place, aiming for my personal chambers where the few crates sat, unloaded from the Fate. Aran jogged to catch up, and then fell behind me, then beside, unsure of her place.

"First, I want to confirm something. To that end, we need two bits of gear. Ever used a grappler?"

***

[Deleted scene - but it would go about here.]

"How's the view from up there?" Jackson's voice crackled from the comset wrapped around one side of her head, tugging gently at her hair when she arched my neck toward the ground.

"At this height and angle, less than acceptable."

"That synthrope might be low-tech, but it'll hold."

Aran sighed, one hand clenching on the rope tied to her belt, holding her to the underside of a metal archway somewhere in the palace's twisted architecture, where she sat, legs hanging down, in the middle of a curly o shape. Wind buffeted the palace towers, swirling around her and wracking her body in little shaking shivers.

The other hand reached down to her belt, and one finger tapped a black, pyramid shaped device. "An IronLeg system would be nice," she hissed, keeping her eyes on one of the towers. Nothing lay below her but the spiked triangular roof of another hallway, and nothing above but a walkway between two towers.

The Captain had given her a specific location and very specific angle that perhaps the engineer woman would've been better with. Her target: a large window on one side of another tower, near where their chambers were, from what she could tell.

"I never got to use an IronLeg as an ensign. They spoil you kids. Now, do you see it?"

"The window, yes. Anything past that, no."

She squinted, picking up her binoculars and looking through them. A light purple curtain blocked any view into the room, whatever room it was. "There's a curtain in the way."

"Neat, so what's the problem?"

"I can't… oh," Aran grumbled, clicking a button on the binocular's top. The image blurred, blinked into darkness, and red lines took shape in its place, this time with a bright red form behind them, sitting with its legs tucked under it. "This is why I don't scout, sir."

"Is the princess there?"

"The one with the star on its rear? I think so. She's the biggest one."

"Right, well the recorder, set it up at that angle, please, and then- shoot. Bad timing," he said, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Get out of there ASAP." A door slammed in the background, and the comms fell silent.
Aran stared wide-eyed at nothing, dropping the binoculars to her chest. "I hate tactical missions. Captain, come in."

She waited for five minutes, and she counted. One hand hovered over the comset to switch channels for the last fifty seconds, shaking in the wind. In the distance somewhere behind her, the sun edged closer to the horizon, light slipping across the palace towers and reddening the sky.

***

"It's a bit late for this," I said, the towel still draped over my shoulders. "I thought you wanted another go at my dreams."

"I'm sorry to intrude," she said, hoof still raised mid-step, her head staying locked onto mine. "That is, if your species is sensitive about a lack of clothing. You don't seem to be reacting, so I will simply assume you don't."

"Poor way to go about assuming things. Most people are. Also, I'm not naked." I stood up, folding the towel arm-over-arm and laying it over a rung for some underpaid servant to pick up later. "No pants is naked, at least for men." I walked over to my bed, where my active uniform lay, and began checking over my gear to make sure everything was present, and I maneuvered myself so that my back was to the Princess, despite all of my instincts screaming at me to keep an eye on her. I balled my hands tight and counted.

Luna put her hoof down. "May I ask a question?"

"Shoot."
"You are a soldier, correct?"
"Technically not. Wingmen are more of a combination of marine and pilot. Soldiers are jugheads who can only be trusted with blowing stuff up with copious amounts of firepower." I turned around to look at her, sliding on a white undershirt and grabbing my jacket from the bed. "What I do requires a bit more precision and-" I trailed off, noting her blank expression. "Yes. Yes I'm a soldier. I do the shooty."
She quirked an eyebrow. "Ah, yes. Shooties. Only at range, then?"
"Melee and ranged, but I prefer there being distance between my target and me."
"I presume you have no problem with ending another's life, then?"
I balked, the jacket snagging on my hand as I threw it over myself. I drew out a long sigh before zipping it up and facing her. "That's a dumb question. I don't do it often, but it happens. If you want to know, I do not have a problem with it unless my standing orders require me to have one."

A grin spread across her face, and she closed her eyes, chuckling. "Excelsior! I would require your services, then. Consider it both bonding experience and practice. Meet me in the gardens near your ship in thirty minutes, and will depart at once for the Everfree."

"Wait," I called, even though she and her escort departed without further answer. "What are we going to do in the Everfree, Princess?"

The door slammed shut, and I planted my rear on the bed, a puff of air escaping my lips. Looking over the room, I mentally counted my gear and ran through a series of possible scenarios. Most of them involved violence.

I placed one of the quick-fab rifles from the crate on the desk, briefly taking it apart piece by piece and counting the bits, cleaning the already spotless gun and replacing the battery. The weapon was an older model laser-rifle, one of the more popular variants from the Wing. A thick, blocky shape made it unwieldy to the untrained, and the stock, bereft of padding, reddened the arm after long use.

Clicking the pieces together, I took apart my pistol and repeated the steps, and then did the same thing for my sword. I put on my EPA suit, took out my VALK and double-checked the coordinates, and plugged Emtac in. The alarm went off as Emtac whirred to full power.

"Going on an excursion, sir?"

"Princess Blue just requested our presence in some sort of extra-curricular activity. It involves guns. Presumably."

"I did hear the conversation, sir. 'Presumably' may be a strong word to use."

Shrugging, I walked out of the door in full gear, making sure to send a message to the rest of the crew on the way out. I'd confirmed a contingency plan with Art by the time I walked past the two gigantic pony statues marking where the Fate landed.

The Princess stood in front of a strange non wheeled carriage, several of the night-guards I'd seen patrolling hitching themselves to the harness, some of them flapping their wings expectantly. The air blew steadily through the mountainside garden, coldness brushing against my face with each step forward. Yellow lantern light glowed in the garden, licking across my armor. She smiled at me, beckoning me over with a hoof.

I nodded, standing stiff in front of her and surveying the scene. "Well your majesty, you needed me?"

Luna's eyes grazed over my form, taking in the armor and weapons with narrowed eyes. Blowing air out her nose in a quiet snort, she smiled again and leapt into the back of the carriage, wings unfurling to slow her descent. "I am glad you're taking this seriously, Captain."

"I'll admit, it's hard to do that here. We doing this formal or loose?"

"Some part of me thinks there will be a difference in both of our definitions. Professional, let us say?"

"I can do professional. I have business cards, if you want one."

"Get in the chariot, Captain."

"Yes ma'am," I said without an inch of sarcasm in my voice, popping off a quick salute before sitting next to her. Notably I sat in a carriage, not a chariot. I didn't correct her because I was being professional.

Purple-ish, leathery wings flapped in front of us, dragging the cart to the sky, snapping my head back from the speed, and plunging us both into darkness. For the purpose of saving face and hair, I reached up with one hand while the other glued itself to the railing to hit a button on my neck. The bubble-mask ignited, enshrouding my head and giving me a brief moment of privacy.

"Emtact, run night-time tactical protocols," I muttered, watching as outlines of my surroundings drew themselves on the inside of my helmet. I looked over to Blue. "So, really, what are we doing?"

"Hunting a giant monster."

I blinked. "Ah, a classic. Been a while since I killed a big beasty."

"Who said we were going to kill it?"

I sighed out a lungful of air.

(1) It's a Suicide Mission

-Location not provided.

-Time not provided.

Ahem. TACT, are you sure this thing’s on? Good, good. I've been meaning to get my hands on one of these stupid recorders since we got back into Wing space, in case things get worse than they already are.

Now, first thing to note if you've found this message. Why, you ask, am I talking in your native language? Well, the short answer is magic, and you'll learn why that is eventually.

Second thing, what exactly is this recording for?

Well, to that, I answer: It's a story. My story. Alright... give me a moment, my memory isn't what it used to be, but it's still better than your average schlub. Ah... yes, where to begin?

-Aboard the ESS Homebound K-196. SRC 231211.
-Forty-nine hours after exiting the Omega system.
-Captain's Quarters

-

Call me Jackson.

Possibly the worst sound in the universe is someone angrily knocking on my door, desperate to tell me that something had gone wrong.

This is coming from a man who's listened to the scuttling of Ba-I parasites crawling around inside Alpha Station's walls, ripping and tearing their nasty little teeth into the wires and any other components they encountered. I've listened to the soul crushing silence of my superiors and peers as I tick off the names of men who recently died under my command. I've even had the displeasure of listening to the inane babbling of a madman holding a gun to my head, though in this galaxy, many have. I'm nothing special in that regard.

However, there's still nothing worse than the incessant thudding of fist on metal that comes when things haven't gone according to plan and I'm expected to fix it. Sometimes, and I won't lie, I wish I wasn't in charge. But that means some other moron gets the responsibility of not screwing up, and I can't trust anyone with that. There's also the power, of course; the insatiable lure of being the biggest and best, but I got over that a while ago.

I held my head in my hands, willing the noise to go away. Of course, it didn't, and only rose in intensity. I smacked my hands down on the desk in frustration, one landing on top of a holo-report I had been typing up, addressed to a Admiral Fenway and from a Captain Amber. It flickered and died, and the corners of my mouth twitched in frustration.

"What is it now?" I called out. Almost instantly the knocking stopped, making me smile for a split second. A worried voice called through the thick door which I'm so very thankful separates me from the rest of the crew.

"We're seven minutes to contact, Jackson." I straightened in my seat faster than I thought possible, but I'd always had good reflexes. "The rest of the crew wants answers and are quickly leaping to - Yes, I'll be right there, cadet - conclusions about the mission. I'd suggest you do something so we can all mentally prepare ourselves for this."

I thought for a moment, delving into past experiences where I'd had to do something like this, which was quite often. Why we never tell the lower ranks anything, I'll never understand. I was always the blunt admiral. If I was leading my fleet into a trap, I told them beforehand. If we were facing impossible odds, I gave a brilliant speech and we always came out on top. Yea, a speech. That would work. I imagined myself to be terrible at speeches, but sometimes you just have to make do.

"Round the crew up in the hangar-bay so I can have a few words with them. Keep the ship on autopilot," I said, rolling the chair back and standing to face the rest of the room.

All of my furniture was made from wood. Not the plastic rubbish they'll synthesize back on Sirius or in the Corumer systems, but real honest-to-God wood. Imported straight from Han Wavel at the expense of people I don't really care about. Yes, it's very self indulgent, but it reminds me of home. I get bored of all the spacey shiny stuff the rest of the galaxy seems to really dig.

I looked at the mirror placed beside my bed. It was a window, but I preferred not to look into empty nothingness, so I had set it to mirror-mode. I brushed my hand along my face, feeling the slight stubble. My hair was as scruffy and short as ever, just the way I liked it. As I reached my the top of forehead I could feel the telltale unevenness of fresh scars crisscrossing themselves. I hadn't had time to treat myself to a scar-treatment clinic since I had gotten them. If it weren't for the magic those clinics had in them, I'd probably be a pile of crumpled flesh.

Almost by instinct, my hand began fiddling with the five stars attached to my uniform. It was a grey uniform jacket, and the shoulders were black. Nothing really called any attention to myself other than those stars and the emblem sitting below them. Long ago I got used to the stares I received in public. My emblem - my rank, they were both legends. I wasn't necessarily a legend, but I sure deserved to be called one.

The large dark grey door slid aside with all the politeness of a servant when I walked up to it, timing my stride almost perfectly. I adore classic things like wooden desks and fencing, but sometimes the brilliance of science just deserves a good pat on the back. Too bad doors don't have backs.

To the side of the door a neatly dressed stick of a man saluted, smiling as one predator would smile to another. I nodded, grinning in return. "At ease, Art. I take it you already sent the message out with your datapad?" I asked.

"Yea, Jackson. Ship-wide so it'll come up on yours in a second," he responded, lowering his hand, "so I'll wait for you in the hangar."

I nodded at him before he left, and clicked at metal device wrapped around my wrist like an old-fashioned watch. The small screen blipped, revealing rows of message titles, one glowing a dull red. I tapped the 'x' next to it, and it disappeared. I began scrolling through the messages, absently looking at each of the titles; they were everything from "Han Wavel riots over Wing control finally put to rest" to "Kaiden survivors finally settling in after the disaster."

"TACT, online, please," I said, not looking away from my wrist. One of the many screens lined along the walls blipped to blackness, replaced by a single line with the words "Tactical Advice ConTributor" displayed in bold white text. I really hate the fact I don't know who made up the stupid names to some of these ship AI's. I'd love to smack them silly.

Ah, wait a moment. I was the guy who came up with TACT. Woops.

"TACT Online. What Do You Need, Sir?" it stated in the recognizably over-enunciated, cold, indifferent, high-pitched voice it had. I hated it, but it was so useful I couldn't afford to not have it aboard my ships. Specifically, my ships only. I actually had no idea if any of the other men in the Wing had their own AI or VI aboard, and I couldn't be bothered to ask. I made sure to keep it offline during most of the missions. Last-resort kind of stuff. It used a lot of energy, and despite the fact that this particular ship was designed to hold a lot of power in it, I didn't feel like being wasteful.

The monotone voice would go away eventually. This TACT was a newer model, so it had yet to develop any kind of personality. It would probably take a month or two.

"I need you to take control of the autopilot. If we get to the edge of the anomaly while I'm talking to the crew, stop the ship. Make sure we're out of range if the anomaly turns out to be something with ranged weaponry. I want to have a good visual of it either way."

"Acknowledged, Sir."

"And don't call me sir, it's annoying."

"Acknowledged, Sir."

"I hate you."

"Acknowledged, Sir."

Sighing, I waved off the AI, who promptly disappeared from the screen. Two crew-members rushed past me, and I resisted the urge to order them to slow down. I spun on a dime and walked along the overly lit hallway that I knew so well.

I don't know what I think of spaceships. The idea that outside the hull is literally just empty space, in my opinion, is absolutely terrifying. Granted, we have such advanced technology that we could flit between the stars in mere minutes if we wanted to, though the energy costs are normally too high for such luxuries. I've fought enough battles to know the horrors of space, the uncertainty of it all, and the great risks. Most planets and factions were and still are too scared to put resources into space warfare. Why exactly that is, I definitely know.

It was a good thing, though. If every planet suddenly entered the galactic community with its own military, then we'd have a thousand more wars than we currently had. It's why groups like mine get hired. We protect people, or rather, planets and systems. In return, we get resources, pay, women, and sometimes entire cities. We, or at least the higher ranked like me, were consequently very well known in some circles. The galaxy's always changing though, and it appeared my little group wasn't doing so well with the changes. Bah, politics. Ruins everything.

My thoughts were interrupted as I entered the hangar, where my crew of ten were milling about and talking amongst each other. On the opposite side, a massive dark grey door stood, behind which laid an unforgiving nothingness. A large, bulky vehicle was attached to the ceiling, and the dropship took up most of the room on the pad. Apparently the engineers had been working on it, otherwise it would have been connected to the ceiling as well. Several crates were stacked in each corner, each strapped to the wall. I stood at the door, staring at my crew talking and ignoring me. That simply wouldn't do. I coughed into my hand, and mentally positioned myself to play the leader. Though, I couldn't help but glance over at the grounded dropship for a few moments. Let them have their fun.

The dropship was a recent model, nicknamed "The Fate" by myself and the crew. It was shaped like an overweight T, with good enough engines, armor, and a pair of plasma cannons at the front. It was designed specifically for the ship we resided in, and it was the first and probably last to be produced. That's how important this mission was.

"LINE UP!" I boomed, and the crew scrambled in front of me. They were

shoulder-to-shoulder by the time my voice faded. My congratulations to the Cadet Academy, you finally trained a group that can line up properly.

"I want a salute and a 'yes-sodding-sir'!" I yelled. Their hands snapped to the foreheads, and they sounded off in unison. I grinned, and winked at my right-hand-man, Art. His clean shaven face showed no emotion, but he blinked in recognition. "At ease, boys." Their hands lowered, and I clasped my hands together. The sound echoed throughout the hangar, the only other noise being the dull whirr of the engines resonating throughout the hull.

"Now," I said flatly, pacing a few meters away from the group, "we're about to enter an unknown anomaly. This thing has managed to somehow stay off our radar for decades, maybe even centuries, and the boys at Omega say it was by pure chance they caught it. One in a trillion billion whatever; the statistics don't matter. We found it, and we're going to investigate. How about I give you a little backstory on this thing?" I stopped, and turned to face them, hands wrapped around my back. I could tell by their cold gazes that they were only being professional, but I knew well enough what they were thinking: They had just graduated, and had been tossed instantly into a suicide mission. Someone high up must really hate them.

"We caught just a flicker of this thing last month, and no one has any idea how it hasn't been discovered. Because, guess what? This anomaly is about as big as a good sized solar system. Almost impossible to not miss in the last few years, but our boys say it's been sitting there since forever ago, so I believe them. We have absolutely no idea what it is, or what's in it. All we know is that it exists."

"As such, after some debating, I volunteered to investigate it myself. The good engineers at Kaiden Technologies offered up some ship designs, all of them capable of handling multiple threats. Thus, this wonderful thing we're currently standing in was built. Eee-ess-ess Homebound. Named it myself. Built to be a jack-’o-all-trades, the perfect vessel for this kind of thing. Naturally, I volunteered to captain it during this trip. Because I'm sure you've heard of my lust for adventure." I grinned wickedly, only increasing its size when a few of them glanced uneasily at each other. Art remained stoic; he was used to this. I had lied, of course, about Kaiden Technologies. It was well known that I was in command of the group, and that I had volunteered to investigate the anomaly the second the high-ranking council got word of it.

"I know you boys think this is a suicide mission, and it probably is, but you should also know something else...." I trailed off, forcing my expression into neutrality. I took another moment of pause for dramatic effect. "I'm an expert at surviving suicide missions. Proven fact. You boys were trained to be the best, because all cadets are. I bet you could survive this on your own, but I'll come, just in case." I chuckled with about as much humor as a dead skill cell could produce, and gestured at the vehicles in the room with a wide wave of my hand.

"We don't know what we'll find, but I know we can handle it. It might be nothing but an odd occurrence that we might be able to exploit, and it also might be a hidden armada preparing to wage war on the galaxy. It also might be just an alien race that happens to be in some sort of natural cloaking field. But we're still being prepared."

I spun around on one heel, facing the closed doorway out. "I'm an expert at getting things done, and getting out alive. We're invincible, but only if we work together," I said, walking through the large metal opening. Before it slid shut, I said one last thing. "Send a message to your families. Get back to your posts, ETA is one minute."

The only sound in the hallway was the patter of boots as the cadets rushed past me, and the only smell was soap. I hated soap. The downside of being in a smaller ship was that the washrooms always made the ship smell like the stuff. I hated it. TACT popped up on the screen next to me, and blipped from screen to screen as I walked down the hallways. Normally I would have waved him off, but it was crunch time.

"Sir. We Are Nearing The Anomaly. ETA Is Thirty Seconds. Powering Down The Engines As Requested."

"Shut up," I snapped, and the AI vanished from the screen just as I came to another door. With a sigh, I stepped forward, and the doors slid open to reveal the bridge. Several heavy monitors jutted from the walls, each with a cadet standing at the ready. In the middle of the room sat a chair, several holographic control panels floating around it. Beyond that was a depression, with stairs on either side of the chair. In the depression in the floor was a large control panel where Art sat, and on either side of him were two more panels with two more cadets.

In one swift movement, I waved away the holograms and sat in the chair. The holograms returned as soon as they thought the coast was clear.

The fancy controls or even the pilot's chair were certainly not the most imposing thing in the room. What stood out the most was the pitch black screen located at the front, standing out from the light grey of the rest of the ship. I stared at it from behind the blue holograms, and coughed violently into my fist.

"Alright, men. Let's make this snappy. Get in, hopefully find the source of this thing, and get out. No distractions, and be prepared to get shot at as soon as we enter," I tapped at an orange button on the controls, and stared at the black screen in front. "TACT?"

"TACT Is Online, Si-"

"Remove the blind, I want to see this thing for myself."

"Yes, Sir. I Would Advise Caution, Though. I Do Not Predict Positive Emotional Reaction Fro-"

"Do it already."

"Yes, Sir," TACT said, and vanished from the hologram display. In front, the black veil dissipated... only to be replaced by yet another blackness. In the distance, I could hear a few crewmembers gasp. Art turned to look at me, his eyebrows raised and a question on this edge of his lips.

"TACT, you sure this is visual?"

"Yes, Sir. I Am One-Hundred-Percent Certain The Blind Successfully-"

"So the stars are all missing. It's like some sort of crazy wall?"

"Yes."

"Firstly, how the hell did the boys at Omega not see this thing? And secondly, can we go into it? I know we've scanned it already. No good results."

"I Am Forty Percent Certain That Entering It Would Result In Our Destruction, I Would Advise-"

"Good odds! Alright, everyone brace. We're heading in." I paused, listening to the scuffling as various people buckled themselves into their seats. Art gave me a worried look, and I winked. He and I both knew how to roll the dice right, and the records had shown we were officially good luck charms. He certainly wasn't as experienced as I was, though. "TACT, hand me manual controls."

"Manual Controls Activated. Good Luck, Captain."

"Yea, yea," I muttered as two joysticks lifted up from either arm. I gripped them, feeling them warm up in my already hot hands. Without a second thought, I moved the right one forward, and the steady purr of the engines escalated into a roar. "Intercom on," I said, taking a pause to let the command activate. "Alright. I hope you all are settled in, because I have a good feeling about this, and we all know whenever I get a good feeling, something bad happens. Intercom off."

I glanced at a rapidly decreasing number on the controls, and grinned to myself. A low warning sounded as the number went into the thousands. I could feel the tension rising, and it threatened to burst by the time the number fell into the hundreds. The alarm turned into a scream for a brief second, and then there was a bright light, and a loud noise that sounded like exactly the opposite of silence.

For an instant, I was worried.

Fun fact, though: Technically, I should’ve died over eight thousand times.

Piece of cake.

~=\/=~

(14) Man On the Ceiling, Pony On the Bed

-Aboard the ESS Homebound K-196
-Ten minutes after I woke up.

-Bridge.

-

I hate politics.

I’ve said it before -- I’ll say it a million more times. Old, crotchety men arguing over who’s right never gets the job done. It never fixes anything. It never works. The young men who join up to try and “fix” the politics, repair the mess, only ever get corrupted or ejected due to past mistakes. It was as prevalent on my planet as it was every other planet I’d seen since then. That’s why I joined the Wing. They were free-roamers, mercenaries who got the job done and asked all the right questions and gave all the right answers. They were legendary. At least, that was what I thought until I ended up with an Admiral’s pin on my chest.

Politics ruin everything.

“Remember, crew. Stand straight, line up, and salute until they salute you back!”

I patted down my long jacket sleeves, wincing when I hit the still fresh cuts Aran had dug into them. The dizziness and nausea were gone, replaced by jittering anxiety. I wasn’t afraid of the Admirals -- I was afraid for my crew, and the ponies. There had been no contact between us since the holo-meeting and it was killer, taking the risk that they might let something slip that would screw up all possible relations with the ponies. Like mentioning Earth.

Fins jutting out from a whale-shaped craft didn’t so much spout as they did roar, the light they made filling up the hull of the dropship as it made its way towards us like an ungainly ballet dancer. Behind it, glowing like a maiden, was the safe haven of Parinin. It was a lush planet, and it hadn’t been touched by any of the violence that was so popular everywhere else. For men in the Wing, it was party central, or a place to stick a retirement mansion.

My crew had lined up on one side of the massive Wing insignia, stiff as boards and ready to snap to salute at a moment’s notice. On the opposite end sat the ponies, looking everything from bored to excited. I’d already had TACT warn them that I needed to speak to each of them privately; not a silent tactic, but I had always been more about practicality than fancy manipulation.

“Private dropship of Admirals Uske and Fenway, requesting permission to land,” a voice buzzed in my ear, courtesy of my headset.

“Granted. Welcome to the Homebound, boys,” I answered, pressing my finger against the call button. “The area to land in should be marked in red on your HUD. San isn’t flying, is he?”

“Dear God, no! Haha! Paddy here ripped the controls right out from under me before I could even buckle in!” a second voice chimed in, and I let a smirk grow across my face. “No, no. Paddy’s doing it.”

“Patrick.”

“Whatever!”

“Alright, alright. Amber out,” I said, dropping my hand. I turned to glance at the ponies, each of them staring as the bulky, unruly and completely bulbous shape of the dropship edged closer and closer to the blue veil that marked the entrance to the vacuum of space.

There was a collective gasp when it burst forth like a breaching shark, and floated menacingly over the hangar floor. It wobbled and swayed, a thundering sound tearing throughout the ship. It settled, tittering mid-air like a vase on an unsteady table, right above one of the yellow-rimmed landing pads. I turned to the ponies right as the air hit us, blowing my previously immaculate gelled up ‘do into a mess. “You’re about to meet two of the most powerful people in Wing space, girls!” I yelled over the growing din, “so put on your best smile!”

With an unceremonious thud, the ship dropped perfectly into place. My eye twitched, and I instinctively masked a face-palm to fix my hair. It was still better than San’s landings, and speaking of the devil, the Admiral himself appeared in the side-door to the dropships, his hands on his hips like he’d won the lottery.

“Jackson! Buddy! I love the ship, I really do. She’s charming, amazing! Can I fly her?” he rattled off, raising his arms into an all-encompassing gesture as he walked towards me. A second, masked man exited the ship behind him, and brushed imaginary dust off of his immaculate uniform; San’s was opened down the middle, revealing a white t-shirt beneath.

“No,” I said automatically, letting the errant Admiral wrap his arms around me in possibly the weirdest moment I had ever experienced, “and you’re hugging me, Admiral.”

“I know. You don’t like it, so I’m doing it,” San whispered, jumping back from me and folding his arms like nothing had happened. “And where are these ponies you mentioned? I want to meet them!”

I rolled my eyes, and nodded my head to the nervous collection of crayon-colors off to my right, and couldn’t help but replace my annoyed look with a smirk when he stomped over to them. At once, they all looked up at him, and with the grace of a dying monkey with rabies, he leaned down to face the closest one -- which happened to be Rarity, the poor soul. “And who might you be, my fair... err. Jackson?” He looked my way.

“They’re all female, except the lizard.”

“Girls, eh? Can’t say I’m unfamiliar with those. Anyway, it’s a pleasure to meet you, your grace,” he announced, swooping into an exaggerated bow. The white unicorn tittered, face straining with what was either a forced smile or the attempt not to laugh. “May I ask what your name is?”

“Well,” Rarity started, amping up her obvious fake accent to MACH 10, “it’s a genuine pleasure to meet you as well, Sir Uske. I am Rar-”

“Boop!” San shouted, pressing his index finger on her snout.

“-ri-what?!” she sputtered, practically teleporting back a few feet. She blinked, and amidst the chortles of her comrades, flushed crimson. “I- I-.... That was uncalled for!”

“Psst, Amber!” San called, holding his hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to conceal his words, “these things are boring! Help!”

This time, I didn’t try to conceal my facepalm. “Just... apologize and talk to them for a bit. Tell them the story of how you crashed your ship that one time, meaning all of the times,” I said, watching as his eyes grew wider.

“That’s not fair! I’m an expert pilot!”

“Tell that to the pile of scrap metal that we get back each time you fly a ship, I -- Patrick!” I shouted, jumping back. The masked draxian had managed to sneak up and stand right in front of me, staring lifelessly through his faceplate. “I’ll be right with you, San. Just entertain them a bit.”

“But they’re boring and might give me a heart attack!”

“Hey! Say you’re sorry to Rarity!” Rainbow said, flying straight into San’s face. The admiral recoiled, smiling innocently.

“Eep. I’m sorry, Rarity,” he said hurriedly, his plastic smile growing every second Rainbow glared at him.

“Eh, good enough. Name’s Rainbow Dash, but you can call me Dash.” Rainbow shrugged, offering him a hoof. He let his smile fall down into a more genuine position, and shook it.

“I’m Admiral San Uske, Dash. Best flyer in the galaxy.”

I turned back to talk to Patrick, tuning out the sounds of a growing argument. He huffed, and crossed his arms, and I didn’t look to check if his foot was tapping, but it definitely would’ve completed the image. Nodding, I looked over at the ensigns, who were all looking past me and at the shouting match a few meters away. “Ensigns, stand down and return to your posts. TACT will have instructions for the trip to Gantoris.” I watched as they left, frowning when I saw Roland and Dylan’s disappointed faces.

“I wouldn’t have believed it if they weren’t standing right over there,” Patrick muttered, his voice coming out more gravely as it passed through complicated filters. “I’m not apologizing, though.”

“No need to be, pal,” I said, glancing over his shoulder as the shouting escalated into pointless dares from the two jocks. “I would’ve been just as skeptical as you were.”

San shouted, “Ha! But you have wings, and I fly a complicated piece of machinery that can go faster than sound! One that would takes years for you to even begin to comprehend!”

“Oh yeah? Well have you even done a Sonic Rainboom?”

“I- what? That’s not even a thing!”

“Yeah-huh!”

“Nuh-uh!”

Patrick sighed. “So... Earth. It’s real. You found it.”

“We found it,” I corrected, “and as long as those seven ponies and lizard thing like the Wing, Earth is as good as ours. With the attention and fame we’ll get from that, we’ll be back into shape in no time at all. They... don’t know that, though. They’ve got no idea that they’re sitting on what’s rightfully ours.”

“It’s a shame. They look cuddly. Horned ones get psych powers?” he asked, nodding at Twilight while she forced San and Dash apart with a purple flash of magic.

“Yeah. They’re... incredibly powerful, too. Bigger than anything we’ve ever seen. Their leaders claim to be able to move the system’s star and the planet’s only satellite at will, and with what I saw there, I don’t even doubt it.”

“Heh. You’re not as skeptical as you’d think, Jackson.”

“Yea.... Guess I’m not.”

“You’re going to need to stop that fight, too. Maybe just lock them in separate rooms.”

I chortled. “Yup.”

“JACKSON! HELP ME!” San shouted from somewhere from the ceiling.

“I’ll get ‘im,” Patrick sighed.

~=V=~

“And that’s why we can’t let them know that their planet is the origin of our entire civilization.”

San blinked, staring at me from across the meeting table. There was a moment of silence, crashed by another spurt of mechanical breathing from Fenway.

“Can I hug one, though?”

“No,” I snapped, slapping my palm against the dull, blue tinted glass that made up the entire table, “because you got into a fight with one of them over which one of you was the better flyer. Twenty seconds after you met her!”

“Hey. That’s not my fault, she was insistent that having wings automatically made her the best. I, on the other hand, spent years perfecting my- gurk!” he clutched his gut, where Fenway’s elbow had lodged itself. San’s cheeks bulged, and he rubbed the sore spot when the other Admiral removed his arm. “Okay, okay. Serious mode?”

“Serious mode,” I said, “because it’s already been confirmed that E is out there, he’s dangerous, and he hates our guts. Normally I don’t ask a lot of you two, but when it comes down to it, I need your help with this mission.” Patrick nodded, and I looked expectantly at San.

“Well,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head, “it depends what kind of help you need. Is it about the ponies? Earth? E?”

“It’s about all three. If E gets word that the ponies are from Earth, he’ll go after them. Earth is a goldmine for him, and he could use it to boost his political popularity. Firstly, the last thing we need is E getting popular, because right now he isn’t. Secondly, if he gets his hands on Earth as it is, he’ll probably wipe out the ponies and anything else on it in the name of his Empire and humanity. Lastly, if he can’t find the anomaly and Earth, he’ll head straight for us to get his hands on the ambassadors. Patrick, you’re head of the intelligence, right? How’s your informant connections?”

“Diminishing by the month,” the masked alien said, leaning on his elbows. “I don’t run on people loyal to the Wing, I run on people disloyal to their own faction. A couple are loyal to us still, sure, but I keep those only in the groups who aren’t out to get us. The LRA, Empirium, and a couple others are the problematic ones. I haven’t got word from any of my men in there. LRA channels are poorly secured, though, so I’m not too worried.”

“And I’m the unofficial ambassador to the Empirium, I know. I’ve been monitoring their chatter for you guys for the past few months and I’ve told you all I know. Nothing about E has surfaced... at least, last I checked. What Clover said was disturbing....” I drummed my fingers on the table, moving my hand up to unconsciously press my hair back. “I trust you know what you’re doing, Fenway. As for you, San... why are you still an Admiral, again?”

“Cause’ I’m awesome,” he said smugly resting his hands behind his head and leaning as far back in the chair as possible.

“Because he took down two Empirium battleships with one squadron of our out-of-date Raptor fighters, Captain, and he’s excellent at boosting troop morale.” Patrick snorted, straightening in his chair. “He is also good at fencing.”

I let my hands fall back into my lap, and studied the sleek surface of the table.

“We can go now, right? If you can unlock the armory for me, I’d like to see what you brought on the trip with you,” Admiral Fenway said. I nodded, and ignored the sound of the sliding door and echoing footsteps. A tanned hand touched my shoulder, and I looked up at the remaining Admiral.

“Yes?” I asked, knowing what would come.

“You’re doing a good job, Jackson. I know you’re itching to pack up, leave the ship, your crew, and the marshmallow ponies to go find E. Just hold it together, right? When it comes down to it, I’ll blow up one of his cruisers just for you. In my personal Raptor.” He chuckled, standing up and dusting himself off.

“I don’t know how you can fly those things, San Uske. They’re terrible,” I said, smiling up at him.

“Ha! Not my personal design. It’s got, like, five cupholders!” he proudly exclaimed, giving a mock salute as he stepped backwards into the hallway. I let loose a gravel-filled chuckle, and sank back down into my seats. At times like this, the bright overhead lights, the thick smell of disinfectant and soap all felt more oppressing than usual.

“TACT?” I called out to the empty room. The AI’s monotone voice replied a second later.

“Yes, Sir?”

“So... I gotta talk to the ponies one-on-one, right? Can’t take them in twos?”

“I Would Recommend Meeting With Them In Pairs. I Have Observed That They Have Strong Emotional Bonds With Each Other And React Better To Stimuli When In The Presence Of Their Close Friends. The Lizard, Spike, May Need To Be Talked With Personally, Though.”

“Gotcha. Any tips?”

“Be Nice To Fluttershy.”

“She’s... uh, the shy one, right?”

“Indeed.”

I pressed my hands down on the desk, pushing myself up. I relished the jabs of pain that spiked all up and down them, reminding me they were real; everything was real. “Who do you think I should start with, and, err, how? I suck at talking, you know that,” I asked, stepping carefully for the door.

“Bluntness For Applejack. Facts For Twilight. Gentleness For Fluttershy. Compassion For Rarity. Bright Side For Pinkie Pie. Perhaps Duty For Rainbow Dash. I Will Leave Spike Up To You,” the ceiling rattled off for me. I stopped just before the door, exactly one foot away.

“Why leave it up to me?”

“To Answer Your Query: You Are Competent Enough To Navigate Him Yourself.”

I grunted, and took the step that would send the door scanning system into an alert. In the blink of an eye, the door slid open, almost like it was never there. The hallway was thankfully empty, and I looked from left to right in one movement. Nothing. Nothing, excluding the steady hum of the engines and wiring, or the overpowering stench of clinical precision.

TACT was probably laughing at me. The jerk.

“I’ll start with...” I muttered to myself, licking my lips during the pause, “hm, pairs. Rarity and Spike. Screw what TACT said about talking to Spike alone. I can handle this on my own. Twilight’ll be by herself. She relies on her friends too much, and I can’t have that. Got it, TACT?”

“Yes Sir.”

With that, I walked off down the hallway, no idea as to what would be in store for the future.

~=V=~

-20-8-5-18-5 1-18-5 DATA FILE CORRUPTION
-14-15 19-8-1-4-5-19 COPYPASTE PROCEDURE FAILURE.

-15-6 7-18-5-25 RESTORING BACKUP. RECORD DATE 7028AD.

-

“Sir, if I may present a list of things that have gone on-”

“Cadet.”

“-since you’ve been focusing on the fleet, and setting up the Operations Division. I assume you already know of the invasion of Draxis Fer-”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, A-admiral, sir.”

“I don’t care about Draxis Ferys. We offered them peace and they denied it -- at least that’s what Olander told me. The other admirals are in control of that situation. As we both know, my particular job is to set up communication relays, send out deep space probes, and oversee the thousands of experiments the Wing labs need to get done. That’s not even counting the combat part of the Division.”

“Y-yes, I know sir.”

“Yes, yes. On to status reports. How is the Halo Project going?”

“N-no progress so far, from these reports.”

“Any news from the Voyager team?”

“None, sir. They’re p-presumed dead.”

“Nexus Initiative?”

“The first device e-exploded and they’re starting from scratch, but... t-they said that t-theoretically it should still work.”

“Hmph.... I’ll be honest with you, things aren’t looking good for us here. We haven’t been able to reverse-engineer a single piece of Derelict technology for months, our pool of scientists and engineers are being depleted even though we’re paying them by the bucketloads, the Urella Corporation seems to be doing their best to either sabotage or steal everything we come up with, and the list goes on and on and is just getting bigger by the day. We need to do something.”

“Well, J-jackson, what do you think we should do?”

“I....”

“Sir?”

“Hm... Call up each Project Director, and tell them to meet me at the Alpha Station next week to the day. We need to have a board meeting about an idea I just got. A big idea.”

“Yes s-sir! Right away, sir.”

Woosh.

“This is going to change... everything.”

Click.

“Ensign Ty’tyn, please gather my notes on the Valkyrie Project, and make sure you bring the statement on genetic alteration and construction up as well. I need to double-check something.”

~=V=~

Knocks on my door, resonating throughout my spacious cabin, forced their way into my head and woke me from a nostalgic daze. Writhing worms and burning cities faded from my vision when I opened my eyes, and I looked down at the holographic report in front of me. I didn’t read the words, but I still saw it in my vision like a sting-shaped floater on the eye. It didn’t focus.

When it did, all I caught were the words “shipment report” before slamming my fist on it. Amidst the thok sound from the edge of my datapad hitting the wooden table, the screen disappeared and dissipated back to the hidden electronics the furniture was laced with. For just a moment, my vision swam, and I gripped the edge of my seat like it was the only thing tethering me to reality.

Memories lined themselves up like soldiers, and I inspected them. The last thing that came to mind was walking down the hallway, wondering what I’d say to Twilight.

I had blacked out somewhere, but I didn’t remember where. It was locked away in my mind. Maybe the tell-tale wetness of my jacket sleeves had something to do with it, maybe it didn’t. I didn’t want to take any chances, so while I wasn’t busy dying, I brushed off whatever the liquid was. Smelled like blood.

“TACT?” I called, winced as my voice left my throat like a sandstorm. His signature fungus-shaped symbol appeared on the wall. I didn’t look away from the clear fluid that had stuck to my hands.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Where’s Twilight? I thought I asked for her.”

“She Grew Bored Of Waiting, I Presume. She Queried If She Could Take A Nap While You Were Asleep. I Hope You Don’t Mind A Pony In Your Bed.”

“No,” I grumbled bringing my voice down to a whisper now that I knew I wasn’t alone, “not at all -- I.... Did you just...? Nevermind. Didn’t you not notice I was blacked out, not sleeping?”

“No, Sir. Scanners Showed No Anomalous Activity Or Odd Physical Reactions.”

“Did I... do anything while I was ‘asleep’?”

“You Appeared To Be Drooling.”

Mystery solved. I shrugged, and spun my chair around to face the bed. On top of the silk blue sheets -- my silk blue sheets -- was the peaceful form of Twilight Sparkle, ever dedicated to making other ponies happy. Dedicated to the point where she would potentially wait hours for someone she barely knew to wake up and talk with her. So she waited, and waited, and then fell asleep on my bed; her miniscule equine chest rising and falling ever so slightly with each breath. It was so very peaceful.

It was so very pathetic.

“TACT...” I whispered, taking a step back from her sleeping form. “TACT, can you make a connection with Vir Domus? Connection code is oh-oh-five-delta-nine.”

“Establishing Connection,” the AI said, and I turned to face the wall panel. TACT’s insignia flashed red for the briefest of moments, and a newer, more controlled voice came through.

“Hello, Jackson. I’m glad to know the reports were not exaggerated. I assume you’re calling for a reason?”

“You know me too well. I need two doses sent to the panel in my office on Gantoris, you know the one. Ship everything else out immediately, just in case E targets you.”

“Very well, Jackson, but you know how hard it’ll be to get it there.”

“I trust you.”

“I know, Mister Amber. And another thing, the crater is at thirty-percent capacity right now. We need a more permanent solution soon. We need your expertise.”

“I know, I know. I’ve just been busy. Listen, I’ve really got to do something right now, so just hold up a little longer. Just get me those doses and I’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you later. TACT, close connection.”

“Connection closed. Conversation logged and sent to your personal folder, sir.”

“Don’t announce that ever again,” I muttered, “not everyone knows about that folder, and I’d rather they didn’t. It’s taken years for me to gather those audio logs. Longer than I’ve even been in the Wing. Nobody knows now, and I’d rather nobody knew ever.”

“Knew what?” a tired voice asked from behind me. I jerked, and straightened out of reflex. Stupid, stupid, stupid, I thought to myself as I turned my chair around at the speed of a tired snail. Twilight, no longer resting soundly, was looking up from her perch on my bed, her eyes still drooping with grogginess.

“Nothing, Twilight,” I lied, “just some personal matters that involve family. I try to keep them and my work separate.”

Her mouth opened in a wide yawn, and with a couple of blinks the clouds in her eyes were gone; maybe they’d never been there. She looked down, suddenly realizing where she was, and sputtered. “O-oh! Sorry for using your bed, but I’ve just been really tired lately, and you were taking so long to wake up and I didn’t want to wake you, and-”

“Twilight,” I said, smiling a plastic smile and raising one hand to interrupt her. I was lucky the bed and desk were so close together, otherwise I’d have to get up, and at the moment my feet still felt like lead. “It’s perfectly fine. Lots of people get their sleep schedules messed up when they first get on a ship. Some of the engineers even think it has something to do with the artificial gravity, but I think it’s just natural. No sweat.”

“Yeah... no sweat,” Twilight whispered, looking down. I chuckled, and rolled the seat closer. “So, what did you want to talk about?” she suddenly asked, almost immediately perking up.

“Well... yes. I,” I said, biting my lower lip. This was the point of no return. She seemed fine. Had TACT been exaggerating? I couldn’t take the chance if he wasn’t. “Twilight, I wasn’t awake for it, but I was told you and your friends didn’t react very well. I know it was intense, and I know you all were scared, and I know we got out safe, but I need to clear some things up with you. Just so you can... understand why it happened.” I stopped, a cold weight dropping in my chest. Each word I said made her expression drop one emotion lower, and now I could see what was under her mask. Fear. Confusion. Wild, dead eyes that had to watch as two men argued over their fate; a fate that was out of their hands. I’d seen those eyes before, many times.

Never in the mirror, though.

“I... I just don’t know-” she started to whisper.

“It’s alright. It’s just.” I stood up, brushing imaginary dust off of my jacket purely out of habit. With one hand, I tapped at my datapad. The room darkened and the only thing providing light was the device on my wrist. Just as planned, part of the ship under us began humming. I checked, and there was no dizziness. Good. I couldn’t afford to black out during this.

“There’s something you need to see.”

The world turned white.

~=V=~