Chapter 06 - Voices, screams and sacrifices

PV-01 orbit
Planetary defence vessel Dusk of Hope

It ran. Or, rather, it fumbled at very high speed on its way too numerous limbs. It fumbled inside corridors and through closed doors.

Reality had ceased to make sense. Was it even able to understand the brand of reality surrounding it anymore? The constricting walls of the ship had lost part of their substance, leaving room for things that were not from the right side of sanity. The world was now filled with distorted faces, glaring at it with bright, blank eyes, forever lost and wandering; with gusts of non-existent wind, that would incessantly caress its fur and the skin beneath, drawing a crawl that sank into its flesh; with blood, forever spilled from some unknown wound in the fabric of reality, overloading its heightened smell...

But most of all, it was filled with the voices.

At first, memories would help the creature out of this madness. Memories of another life. Now, those were no more than incoherent screams, insufferable white noise for a corrupted brain.

But those didn’t count. No, there were only prey and the objectives. Those mattered. Everything else was just filled with the voices. Meaningless.

The creature ran faster, looking for more preys, hoping that soldiers would somehow try to catch it, praying for more blood to spill. Gods, it would even turn back on its hooves and claws – oh! if only it could somehow kill the ponies it had already slain. Turn time back so it could kill the ponies, kill reality, kill time, kill everything until the voices lay dead as well.

But they never shut up. It screamed and ran and thrashed around but they only quieted when it killed. So it killed. And they dulled. And they came back. Again and again and again and again and again and again...

No escape. Can’t run from the voices. Always here. Always find you. Never stop.

“Running from me, Scream?” one-of-the-voices whispered.

“Quiet!”

“Oh sorry... do I bother you?” that-particular-voice continued.

“Shut... up!”

Somewhere in the distance, another voice screamed. That voice always screamed.

“I feel like I’m bothering you.”

“SHUT. UP!”

“If I’m bothering you, you just have to say it.”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

The voice chuckled. “Make me!”

“Pox!”

Another voice shouted its devotion to the ruinous powers. That one was the least bad.

Pox’s chuckle became a heartfelt laugh. It was an impossible sound, a nerve-grating, arhythmic noise that echoed in her skull. “What will you do, Scream? If I don’t shut up, you’ll exert your oh frightening wrath on poor little old me? But guess what? YOU CAN’T!”

“SHUT UP!”

“Face it Death Scream! You’re trapped with me for as long as it pleases me, and oh by the Nine Heads of Nurgle, do I love it!”

“STOP! GODS! SHUT UP!”

“Call them as much as you want, Scream. I. Am. Not. Leaving. You will suffer my presence and I will enjoy every second of it.”

The creature that had been Death Scream shrieked. And the voice of Smallpox laughed.

☀☀☀

Rolling Die was caught in a loop.

Send a message to the vessels via the emergency communicator. Wait the authorised time. Check on the augur. Wait some more. Get no answers. Signal it to the room. Back to the beginning.

Her duties had never left much room for initiative nor change, but this level of monotony was utterly ludicrous. Yet she repeated the set of instructions. It somehow managed to keep her distracted from the reality outside of the screens. The familiar buzzing of the command deck was becoming alien to her. Something akin to despair and anger was spoiling it. She hated it. So she focused on her task, not unlike the lobotomised ponies around her. Do steps one to six. Loop to step one. Repeat. The mare clenched her teeth as she launched yet another scan.

She wanted to scream. “This is pointless! Are we supposed to keep up until it comes here and slaughter us?” But she stayed silent. Instead, she started another loop.

She sent a quick glance at the captain. He was the only reason she still felt sane. Typhoon Snivel was watching over them, and the Empress over him. He looked as calm and resolute as ever. A rock even in the midst of a tempest. His red, artificial lenses pierced the room, checking each and every pony, assessing their work... Just as usual. His flask was back at his at his side, untouched. Everything was going to be okay. Everything was okay.

The unicorn’s eyes locked with hers and she realised she had forgotten about her routine. She didn’t waver though. She peered into the augmentics, looking for a sign. Anything. Anything at all.

“Is something the matter, Operator?”

If the eyes were the windows of the soul, the optics were foggy, tinted ones at best. But one thing shone through them. Unwavering resolve. “No– nothing.” She snapped back to her task. “Nothing, sir. Still no answer.”

Everything was going to be okay. She had to believe that.

“How much time do we have until it reaches the bridge?” Typhoon asked the closest servitor.

“Estimations give us between thirty-one and one hundred and seventy-one minutes, sir,” the pony recited in its monocord, robotic, voice.

“Where is it now?”

“Energy readings: two-hundred meters from the sector D13, Warp-Drives. Fifty-two metres margin of error. Sound screenings: one-hundred and eighty four metres from the sector D13, Warp-Drives. Fourteen metres margin of error. Vibration sensors...”

Typhoon Snivel ignored the rest of the servitor’s listing.

Locking the ship had worked… for a time. The thing – whatever it was or had been – had been trapped at first. Or at least, considerably slowed. But then something happened to it. Something changed the creature somehow. Its screams had filled the vox for hours and when they stopped… it was not bothered by the walls anymore. It simply went through them, butchering anypony in its way.

It had gone through the communication centre – and done massive damages in the process – and was now heading to the Warp-Engines. Typhoon Snivel didn’t know why and he didn’t care. He had to find a way to stop the creature before it decided to come here, for he was sure the bridge was its final stop.

The captain kept a stoic face, a façade for his subaltern, but internally, he was grasping at straws. The situation was spiralling out of control faster than he could think countermeasures.

I have to find a way out of this mess. He resisted the urge to drink more of his flask. He had enough of the foul brew for a lifetime. I have to find a way. There is always a way. That was something he had learned. There was always a way. What stopped most ponies from seeing it was the price to pay to reach it. To win required sacrifices. His metallic legs were a testament to this.

He had to find the way out, even if it meant sacrificing the very ship he stood in. He had to put everything on the line. There was something big at play here, something bigger than a monster roaming the bowels of the Dusk. He had to stop it.

He checked on his crew with a neutral face, while gauging the value of their life as well as his. Somehow, he doubted that even the thousands of ponies present would suffice. The creature would massacre them all. The small hallways would become its playground and the bigger rooms would just give it more opportunities to wreak havoc on the ship.

He had to see bigger. There was only one thing he could put on the line.

“Sir. It’s about to reach the Warp-Drive.”

There was an ominous moment of silence. All faces were turned toward him. He spoke slowly, with a calm that didn’t reflect his current state of mind. “Gather all the troops and all the servitors we can afford to lose to the Sector D12, D11, E13 and C13. I want all the surrounding areas on lockdown at my signal. Anypony still in these areas at that point will be treated as part of the enemy force.” The unicorn took a deep breath. “We will have only one shot at this, may the Empress protect us all.”

All the ponies present acknowledged and relayed his orders. Relief and excitement had momentarily overrode fear.

There was no turning back.

☽☾

It could feel the the Warp-Engines before it would see them.

Even dormant, their low, rhythmic growls echoed hundreds of metres in the distance, like the snoring of some gigantic beasts. As one would get closer, they would smell the thick odour of the sacred oils used by the Marechanicum to anoint, bless and maintain the holy machines and the spirit that inhabited them. But those were nothing compared to the sight. Pillars, so high their summit had to be guessed rather than seen, vibrated in the air, making it dense, filled with a low unequine note. They would sometimes discharge in the air, spewing lightning and hot plasma on another pillar.

This was beautiful and humbling, if a mortal eye could stand such a fiery display. Ponykind had grasped the galaxy thanks to these machineries. In return they screamed their pride with an overloading nonchalance.

The creature didn’t care.

None of that had any kind of importance. It wasn’t paying attention to the noise, the rumble nor the lightning. Even the servitors around it barely managed to catch its attention. The abomination killed them by reflex more than intent. None of those things mattered for it felt none of them. The madness around her had left place to something else. There was no blood, no faces and no voices. Only the thousand-sun light of the room. It-that-had-changed stumbled inside, a sudden weakness invading its body.

The memory-screams were more focused now. They were almost understandable.

It-she had to be here. It-she had to bring something here. Something that pulsed inside it-her, filled its-her body with unholy vigour. It-Death-Scream approached the closest pillar and felt the influence of the Warp pour out of its-her body toward the engines.

The promise of freedom put an ugly smile on its-her deformed head.

☀☀☀

Walking in the lonely corridors leading to her new room, newly promoted Sergeant Starry Glow damned her bad luck. First they were boarded by some damn abomination, then Sergeant Hard Diamond, Lance Steel, Wintersong and Onyx Sky died. Making her the troop leader by default.

What luck! she thought bitterly.

There was nothing she could do about it. Only take the title, obey orders and hope not to die like her peers.

“Stupid Hard Diamond and his principles. ‘Everypony should do their share! I will go as any of you!’ ” she said, mimicking her dead officer. “Great job, chief! Now you’re dead! Onyx is dead! Song is dead! Half the squad is dead!” She felt like crying. Again. “Stupid idealist fool... Now what? I’m nothing like you! I’m nothing like the four of you! Even Lance was better than me! And now I’m supposed to do your job better than you? The four of you? And survive?”

There was a pause in the rant as the pegasus finally reached her destination. It was just as she remembered it. Clean and tidy, just like Hard Diamond’s mind. A small desk resided in the centre of the room, some files carefully disposed on it. Apart from that were a small bed, a mirror and four boxes. She ignored them. She could guess their content and she was in no hurry to verify her hypothesis. She instead went closer to the mirror, checking her reflection. She put a hoof on it, as to comfort the midnight-blue pegasus in front of her. She let her head touch the glass, creating a wall of white hair between her and the desperate-looking mare in the mirror.

“You have to protect the vessel...” she chastised herself. “You have to be good enough to protect the vessel. There’s more than your life at stake here...”

The mare took a deep breath to calm her mind. She might face the Empress’s judgement soon, so she’d better do her best and maybe, just maybe, her bravery would turn the mind-eye of the Empress on her.

One can dream.

The moody pegasus finally reached for the boxes, finding the personal belongings of her predecessors. There was not much. Some personalised pieces of equipment, decorations – a few – and trinkets of personal importance – even fewer. Their whole life was now summarized here. Starry Glow dodged the morbid train of thoughts before it got to her.

After all, she had a more important matter at hoof. There was no time for sentimentality – she was the leader of her troop now, and she would need to play that part. It was the only way she could still honor their memory.

And to play the part, she had to look the part. The first box contained Hard Diamond’s armour, but that was no use. He was a bulky earth pony, and she was a short and stocky pegasus. Even if her wings would have been enough to fill out the armour, she never would have tried; tethering them would only make her feel claustrophobic, which was not something she needed. Onyx Sky was the same story, as he was a similar build to Hard Diamond. Wintersong’s armour wasn’t even worth considering; the slim unicorn was simply not a viable alternative.

All of which left her with only one option. It was lucky that Lance Steel was also a pegasus, and a similar enough build to Starry Glow that his armour would be wearable. It didn’t fit very well. It was slightly too loose and she could feel the extra space around the wing openings. The boots were one size too small and his weapon felt way too heavy... But still, it would fit well enough, and the craftsponyship was noticeably better than her old gear.

Starry Glow examined her reflection, which was also wearing her new uniform. She looked good from the outside. She looked like a sergeant. Even if this helmet felt too tight. Even if the boots rubbed uncomfortably. Even if it was meant to be another pony in this armour. A more worthy pony. A pony who would feel every bit like the leader that they saw in the mirror. A pony who wasn’t in over their head, a pony like Hard Diamond, or Onyx Sky, or Wintersong, or Lance Steel.

Starry Glow bowed her head so she wouldn’t have to see her reflection any longer. She took a deep breath and chastised herself.

Sergeants did not cry.

The door leading to the troops’ quarters – her troops’ quarter – had never seemed so imposing to Starry Glow. She waited a minute before opening, trying to calm her nerves, trying to silence her inner doubts.

What was behind the door was even worse. For a fateful second, she considered fleeing, running as far away as possible. But her body kept moving forward and the thought subsided, replaced by crushing doubts and the weight of responsibility.

There were forty ponies in the room. She only knew half of them. The other half were whatever remained of other squads, mixed and added to hers to complete the ranks. Everypony here had lost a comrade, a lover, a rival… and their leaders. And now they were stuck with each other… with her. She expected them to resent her, but they didn’t even have the strength to do it. They just looked defeated. Utterly defeated. But that was not the worst part. The worst part was that stare. That hopeful, expecting stare. That look on their faces, asking her, begging her to give them hope, a goal, anything to keep going.

Sergeant...did you have to face that every time we had to fight? I can’t do this...

She faced their stare, trying to look as brave and resolute as possible. It was her job now. She had to put a brave face and make believe. She had to inspire them, even if she didn’t believe in it herself.

“Your attention, fillies and colts.” The feeling of dread only worsened as all everypony reacted to her words. Their expectations washed over her, overwhelming her. All she could do was try to emulate the example her predecessors, but it sounded fake even to her own ears. “You know the orders, but I’ll repeat them anyway. Our mission is to locate the creature. If we’re the ones who find it, we have to engage it and to lure it to the prepared location. Then it’s straight to fall back position. We do it good, we do it fast and we all can brag about it later. Kinda like your sex life.”

She had added the last sentence in her breath, not really willing to share the jest with anypony else. To her surprise, the front row started to laugh. It spread rapidly to the whole assembly. It was not much. Small chuckles and half smirks, but it didn’t matter to Starry Glow. The tension was not gone… but it was bearable now.

Stars... This worked? Maybe I can do it… Maybe we can do it.

The mare looked at the mares and stallions in front of them. They looked more determined now. So was she.

“Soldiers. Time to go.”

☽☾

Existence was changing around around Death Scream. It was turning back. The world was slowly making sense again. Sometimes flashes of otherworldly insanity tointed it, like a dark night illuminated by a passing thunderstorm, but it was fainter and fainter.

She was still unsure about what happened. Death Scream had been a spacemare for centuries. In this lapse of time, she had witnessed unfathomable atrocities. She had inflicted her fair share of them in the name of the Gods. She thought she was jaded. She had been shown how little she’d known. She had no wish to dig further into the matter. She didn’t even want to think about it...

The voices were gone...

That’s all that mattered.

☀☀☀

Starry Glow was watching the creature with horror and fascination. It was the stuff of nightmares. The invader was an hideous parody of equinehood. It was twice as big as a pony and as wide as it was tall. Appendages and tentacles of various form and size lifelessly sagged from its body which in turn sat on – six? seven? ten? – way too many legs. This repulsive picture was completed by several little heads resting on elongated necks, akin to tentacles, weakly hovering around the main one. Like an obsequious council whispering advice to their ruler.

However, the most worrying part was not what it was but what is was doing. Strange tendrils of energy flew from the creature to the machinery, infecting it, altering it in some nefarious ways. And it was spreading somehow. Each time the generator discharged, it pulsed with the same miasma the creature was pouring into it.

What luck… Why did it have to be us!

Of all the groups sent looking for it – seven full squads – hers had been the one picked by fate. Starry Glow thought that the odds would somehow tip in her favour for once, but this was, obviously, not her day. Her squad would be the brave “volunteers” who would engage and bait the creature.

Her hoof gripped her weapon a little tighter. It had not noticed them yet; it seemed too busy with its task to notice them.

At least, there’s that.

Everypony was in position. Taking advantage of the cover the room provided. Starry took a quick glance at them

“Wait for my signal,” she ordered with a gesture of her hoof.

☾☀☽

Death Scream was getting close to her release. The energy that had accumulated in her was withering. She could even feel her body weaken and quake as the unholy powers that sustained her new, deformed, metabolism faded. Many questions came to her mind – what was wrong with her body? What had the Sorcerer done to her? Had this been the plan all along? – but she just ignored them as they popped up. It didn’t matter right now. A few more seconds now and she would be free.

Soon...

Another discharge of plasma illuminated the room as if to celebrate her liberation. The abomination got on her hindlimbs and lashed out, screaming, in joy this time, and flaying her many legs in the air.

Death Scream felt the burns with an almost comical surprise. Starry Glow didn’t fare much better.

Lasweapons were quiet weapons. Yet the shots silenced the room.

Both creature and sergeant turned at the same time, glaring at the same pony with the same incredulity. Starry Glow was not even sure the pony in question was the only one who shot. The only thing pointing to her was her weapon, resting uselessly at her hooves.

The small, trembling pegasus was watching the beast with fright.

What have you done? the officer wondered. Why did you shoot? What have you fucking done? So many things went through her mind, begging to be screamed at the mare. Insults, reproaches, questions, orders… but the only thing coming out was the same, bewildered question, again and again: “What have you done?”

It-Death-Scream was experiencing a whole different palette of emotions. Fury rose inside her as she felt the promise of deliverance slipping out of her hoof. Each of her heartbeat echoed in her head, carrying more strength, more corruption in her body.

Reality crashed down around her, the world broke and melted, turning into something else, something alien and familiar, something frightfully friendly. Something bright and dark at the same time. Inside her, something snapped and snapped again, breaking in millions of pieces then shattering some more. She could feel the Aether flow in her once again, alimented by its rage, which in turn made it even more angry. The taste of her denied freedom was still lingering on its tongue. It tasted like ash and broken promises.

“Hello, Death Scream,” a familiar voice mocked. “Did you miss me?”

It-that-rages shrieked.

The unequine sound hit the troop like a shock wave, shattering cohesion and discipline.

Starry Glow didn’t realise she was running. Not before she heard the sound of crushed bones and torn flesh. They were all fleeing. She could not see them, but she could feel them. A scream echoed behind her. The beast was closing on them. It was closing on her. The pegasus ran. Her wings were glued on her back. So she ran. Her lungs were filled with fire, her muscles with molten lead and her fur with warm sweat. But she and her troop ran. For stopping meant death. So they fled through corridors and narrow halls.

And the creature picked them. One. By. One. And every time a pony screamed in agony, she wondered if she was next.

The abomination ran, its disproportionate and deformed body barely fitting in the corridors. Small creatures ran in front of it. Somehow, their existence was an offence to it. Their screams, their disgusting smell of fear polluting the air... It had to erase them from existence. Maybe this sacrifice would appease the voices?

It-that-rages caught an ant-pony with a barbed tendril. The limb sank deep in the meat, crushing the muscles beneath. The ant-pony whelped in surprise as pain flooded their nervous system. More tentacles, hooves and claws, talons and paws, limbs of every sorts grabbed. The ant-pony squirmed against the grip, only making it stronger. Flesh and bones started to break and blood leaked through every orifice it could find. Blood egressed through the tight grip. A smile grew on the creature’s heads. There was a wet muted sound as the clench tightened tenfold. Pulp, flesh and broken bones rained on the creature.

“Feel... good.” The thought-scream emerged somewhere in the consciousness of the beast. “Again.”

Starry Glow had lost track of time. Her desperate escape was punctuated by the loud pounding of her heart and the audible death of her soldiers. The only thing that mattered now was to arrive at one of the rendezvous point. She couldn’t be far!

There was a turn. And a pony died.

There was another turn. And another pony died.

Two other ponies died in the long corridor that followed. Starry Glow’s heart was about to burst.

There was another turn... and she was there.

She almost fell. Relief almost overriding her of her surviving instinct. Almost. She kept going. Her body pleaded for her to stop, but she continued. Dozens of servitors flooded the place and opened the way above her and closed right after she passed. Her prize was at hoof, right behind the corner, only a dozen metres left. The creature was getting close. She could hear the new slaughter starting right behind her. The mutant rage seemed fuelled by new victims, rather than appeased. Starry Glow dragged her body along the wall, her body heavier by the second. It took her an eternity to reach to passage, and two more to get passed it, but she did.

The wall shut behind her. There was no more sound. The mare kept going, shuffling in the empty corridors. She had to reorganise the troops. She had to talk to them, compliment them, encourage them somehow, to boast, to joke, to mourn, anything…

She turned toward her ponies.

But there was nopony else.

Sergeant Starry Glow was the only surviving member of Hard Diamond’s squad.

At long last, the pegasus cried.
.

☀☀☀

Typhoon Snivel listened to the vox with undivided attention. He listened to ponies dying in the line of duty. He didn’t shy away from the graphic imagery these small bits of communication evoked. It was the least he could do to honour the sacrifice he asked of them.

Despite a few hiccups, the first part of his plan had worked. The creature was so engrossed with its massacres that it wouldn’t even stop to think. The captain had already managed to make it follow a closed circuit, giving him and the crew more than enough time to evacuate the perimeter. Now was the moment to end this.

“Start phase two,” he ordered.

Everypony obeyed without asking questions.

Empress protect us.

☽☾

The abomination ran in the corridors, going from a senseless bloodbath to another. The ants-ponies were barely a challenge but it didn’t matter. It had to kill. To soothe the voices. So mindless ants-ponies died. Small packs of them, erring every few hundred metres. And it would kill them and run to the next pack. But it was not enough. Not anymore. It didn’t calm the voice. It didn’t mute the voice.

Pox snickered and cackled every time it-that-kills ended a life. At first, it had annoyed the creature. But now, it intrigued her. “Why laugh?”

Pox burst into an even bigger fit of laughter. “Why I laugh? Look at you! Why wouldn’t I laugh?” She guffawed again. “I can’t believe it! This is what remain of the great and fearsome Death Scream! A stupid and senseless beast!”

“Not stupid. I kill.”

“You... you still haven’t realised haven’t you?” The voice seemed genuinely baffled. “You still haven’t even realised. By the Gods, you’re such an idiot…” It-that-hesitates felt its body being pulled forward. “Come, stupid beast... let me show you.”

Maybe it was surprise, or curiosity, but it didn't resist. The voice dragged it inside the vessel walls. So lost it had been in its frenzy that it had forgotten that adamantium panels were no barrier for it. It didn’t have to walk long. The place was not far. It could feel it before it saw it. Even corrupted, the Warp-Drives still roared. The Chaos-distorted brain clicked discordantly. It had been lured. Like a mere ant-pony.

“No! Nonono! Death scream!” the voice sneered. “Ponies have brains. Simple, archaic brains, but still brains. You’re even less than that! They played you! You’re even less than them! You’re a stupid beast! Nothing more!”

For the first time since its transformation, anger didn’t make it lash out. Its rage was focused. It coalesce around an idea, an emerging mind-scream, a memory from a distant past. The captain had to die. It wasn’t sure what a “captain” was but it didn’t care; it had to find him and kill him.

☀☀☀

The plan was bold – a nice euphemism – but it was clever and efficient, and Rolling Die had faith in Typhoon Snivel.

The first part, the first stroke of genius, had been to create a distraction for the beast. They had lured it into a place where it would run in circle, butchering mindless drones scattered around to occupy her. In comparison, the second part was way easier. They would set the Warp-Drive and all the surrounding areas on fire, immolating the creature.

It was a crazy plan.

But to trap and end a creature able to go through walls and an insatiable hunger for ponies flesh, one had to go with a little part of craziness and everypony had approved of the plan. That was the only plan they had after all, and at the end of it, most of them would be alive to talk about it.

Out of all the members of the bridge still equipped with a brain, Rolling Die had been the one “randomly” chosen to prepare the last part of the plan. She didn’t mind. She wanted to carry Typhoon Snivel orders. Furthermore it was an easy task. Directing serfs was repetitive at worst but in no way as boring as her previous, tedious work on the augur. All she had to do was to collect enough promethium to put a reasonable part of the ship on fire.

Yeah. This is crazy.

Her communicator came alive, breaking her daydreaming.

“Operator!” Typhoon Snivel’s worried tone pierced through the distortion with ease, immediately putting the mare on edge.

“Rolling Die, report–”

“No time for that!” he interrupted abruptly. “Are you done yet?”

“Wha– Sir! We just started! We barely have enough to light the way for the creature!”

“Moon it!”

Years in his service. She had never heard him swear.

“Sir? What’s wrong?”

“The plan is a bust. The creature is heading to the bridge. It will be there in less than twelve minutes.”

“Sir, you need to evacuate!”

“Then what? We need to get rid of it or we’re just delaying the inevitable” The unicorn took a deep breath. His voice became distance for a second as he ordered drone to put him through a more general channel. “The situation has changed,” he explained to the ship’s officers. “The creature is rushing to the bridge. We need to find a solution. Ten minutes ago would be great.”

New voices came live in the channel, giving birth to a heated debate. They were probably devising a new plan of action. She wasn’t really following it, in fact she was barely aware of it. The operator’s mind was elsewhere completely. It was racing at a fevered pace on uncharted territories. An idea was emerging inside it, a horrible yet effective idea.

“We should eject it from the ship...”

The sudden silence made her realise she’d vocalised her thought. The operator bit her lips, hoping they wouldn’t pry and continue.

“Do you have a plan, officer?” The voice of the Captain was calm again. It was one of the many things she admired in him, but this time, it brought no comfort. Quite the opposite in fact.

“No! Huh... It’s a stupid idea, sir. Forget I said anything.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a stupid idea, sir,” she repeated. Please, don’t force me to repeat...

“Tell me.”

“Sir... I can’t...”

“Operator Rolling Die. Tell me. That’s an order.”

“We could sent it back to space...”

“Go on.”

“By piercing a hole in the hull.”

There was no laughter nor scream of outrage as she thought there would be. Only another silence.

“This is ridiculous,” somepony said. “We–“

“This could work,” the Captain interrupted. Rolling Die was regretting her mere existence now.

“Sir?” another pony asked.

“This could work. That’s the most practical idea we have so far. We only need a weapon capable of breaching it.”

No sense in stopping now, she thought bitterly. “We... could throw one of the evacuation ship...” the operator suggested.

“Excellent thinking, Operator.”

“With all due respect, sir, I feel anything but clever right now,” she muttered.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said softly. “We will follow Rolling Die’s suggestion. But that’s not enough. Start the evacuation of the ship. I want everypony out as soon as possible.”

“What about you, sir?” somepony asked, as if the answer was not already obvious.

“I will stay.”

“Sir–”

“Time is short, I suggest you listen. I want this ship on collision course with the Crusader. Push the engines to their limits. I don’t care about the damages it may cause, I want to go as fast as possible.”

“Sir, the machine-spirit–”

“Stop interrupting me. Whether or not we succeed in getting rid of the beast, we won’t have a bridge anymore. The ship will be lost. We must at least deprive the enemy from their victory! So do as I say and do it quick!” There were no more interruptions. “You all know what you’re supposed to do. May the Empress be with us. Snivel out.”

☽☾

The creature was hesitant.

This was new. It was like an unscratchable itch inside its head. An urge to do something that it could not. Even the voices were silent. Even the-voice-that-mocks. It was breathing heavily in a corner of its head, its endless babble stuck in its throat.

Things had changed somehow. The ship had started moving. The doors had been open for it. This did not matter at all, yet it showed that something had changed. The insufferable itch became more insistent.

The voxes buzzed. It was a soft noise. Like a persistent bug, nagging the edge of what could count as the beast consciousness. But it soothed the itch. So the creature stopped, and listened. The message didn’t come through immediately. After several seconds (minutes? hours?) it started to get agitated again, but its patience – or rather, lack of impatience – finally paid off.

The voice was calm and noble.The voice of somepony whose orders were instantly obeyed. It had already heard voices like that. It hated them. Voices like that made it be here. Anger rose again. And the voices grew in strength with it.

“Creature.” The voxex in their infuriating voice. “I am Typhoon Snivel. I am the captain of this vessel, which you boarded, sabotaged and which crew you–” kill! maim! “–You are an enemy of the Imperium and as such it is my duty to eliminate you. But as captain of the Dusk of Hope, it will be my–” pain!

It snarled madly.

In the distance, several door opened soundly. “Come–” YES! HE COMES! SOON! “–Come creature. Come face your punishment.”

It-that-hates ran.

“It’s a trap and you’re a moron, Scream,” stated the-voice-that-taunts.

☀☀☀

One hundred and three vessels fled the Dusk of Hope. One hundred and one flew in tight formation, descending to the planet their flagship was supervising. Only two stuck with the frigate. The first one was sent in a collision course with the bridge, in a mad attempt at sending a warp-abomination into the void. The second simply gravitated next to the ship as a silent observer of its demise.

A few dozen of ponies were packed inside. Most of them were trying to enjoy their survival and to forget about the horrors of the previous hours. The rest were watching.

There were no watching bays on the ship, only a few ridiculously small lucarnes scattered at the front of the ship. For that purpose, they were inconvenient and impractical, but they were all they had, so they watched. Rolling Die was among them.

She observed the Dusk of Hope. It had been her home for so long she had almost forgot what it was. Now, with the frigate revealed once more in its whole glory, she felt like she took it for granted... and the exact opposite. When she was inside, it felt like her whole world. It was her whole world. Now, as the ship drifted in the distance, she found hard to believe so. In all her immensity, in all her grandeur, with her tarnished adamantium plates, her frightful armament, her powerful plasma thrusters... she was just a small frigate drifting in the void, only maintained alive by remnants of her crew. And that ship was now on collision course with another equally small frigate.

The Dusk, her home, was now a dying husk sent to die in a suicide mission, and she was partly responsible for it.

The small escaping ship cruising out of formation was now almost unrecognisable. Yet she knew well where it was going. Rolling Die felt no comfort with the presence of the crew watching the same spectacle as her. From the moment she had programmed the servitors, she was alone.

She alone had to bear the guilt.

☀☀☀

Snivel and the creature were facing each other. Eighty metres of corridors separated them now. They both looked at each other, both unimpressed and scornful. The time for a long due reckoning was a mere seconds away.

The creature started its awkward lunge aiming for its prey...

At the other side, the officer drew his plasma pistol. It was a beautiful weapon, given for his services by the Marechanicum. His hoof grabbed the handle firmly, while his magic stabilised the weapon. Just like training… after all these years... With a soft buzz, the weapon shot. Super heated matter flew toward...

The creature ran, appendages ready to strike. Something hot crashed on them. Pain came and went, but the rage subsisted. Half the distance had already been covered. Another shot came crashing into it, cutting a tentacle. It snarled and kept running. Soon it would be able to catch...

Captain Typhoon Snivel kept shooting at the beast, a quiet resignation invading his body. He hoped they could have done it in time, but...

There had been no signs. No sound. It just happened. One moment the creature was running. The next everything was crashing around It. Gravity ceased instantly. Instead, it felt a violent pull from above. Cuts and burns and shock pummelled the deformed body. It could not react nor understand. The last thing it saw before space claimed it for good was...

A golden halo surrounded the unicorn and a satisfied smile flourished on his muzzle. He was not one to bask into his own accomplishment, especially with such a heavy cost, but there was something pleasing about dragging the creature along the path he had chosen. This was the kind of revenge he could enjoy.

He looked around him. The place was in ruin. There had been way less destructions than he’d thought, but the command bridge was gone. Most of the servitors were gone, either destroyed by debris or sent through space. The only “survivors” fumbled around, trying to activate broken pieces of equipment or simply froze, unable to adapt to the situation, their program trapped between contradictory commands. Most of them would die soon anyway, as the temperature or the oxygen level became too low to sustain them.

Typhoon was luckier. He had his magic to support him. He would die with his ship. As any good captain should.

He absent-mindedly detached the prosthesis out of his body. It was an odd thing to see the bionics broken. This time, he felt no pain nor sense of loss. They were just... broken pieces of metal trapped under some rumble. Two ethereal limbs appeared in their stead. It had been years since he had not used this spell. Somehow, it felt better.

Captain Typhoon Snivel took his rightful place on the bridge. For once, he indulged himself on the captain throne. Captain Typhoon Snivel would die soon. But he didn’t care. He had done his job. And where he was going, there was no coffee.

☽☾

In the endless void, a creature drifted away.

The lack or air, the void and freezing cold were barely enough to hinder its supernatural regeneration. The creature was alive and trapped in a prison made of nothing. But the void was not the worst thing. The void was silent.

“OH GODS IT BURNS!”
“Well, well, well. Once again you prove your stupidity, Scream...”
“He’s coming. Oh yes he’s coming.”

It-that-drifts said nothing.

“KILL! MAIM! KILL!”
“Well maybe after a century or two you will start to show signs of intelligence.”
“AAAAAAAAAH!”

It stayed silent.

“GODS! MAKE IT STOP!”
“After all, we will likely spend a long, long time together.”
“SKULLS! FOR THE SKULLS THRONE!”

In the endless void, it-that-suffers tried to scream. But in the endless void, there is no air to scream.

☀☀☀

Rolling Die struggled with the communicator, failing to do what she had been trained to do even in her sleep. She very vocally blamed the primitive device for her difficulties, but she was secretly grateful for it. The activity kept her brain from assessing the recent turn of events. Digits and codes didn’t judge.

At least she was alone now.

The face of her captain appeared on the screen, distorted and blurry.

A pang of guilt stung her as she saw how tried he looked. Captain Typhoon Snivel had visibly been through Tartarus. His magic covered his whole body, protecting him from the cold and the lack of pressure and oxygen. His uniform was torn in several places, revealing deep cuts in his maroon fur, sometimes sinking in its flesh. Half dried blood had dripped from a cut on his face and his bionic legs were gone, replaced by the golden aura of his magic. Sat tiredly on his throne, he looked as if he had to carry the ship on his back. Yet his augmented eyes were as sharp as ever. They seemed to pierce even the static to reach her soul. Despite the situation, he was still the proud, calm stallion that had led the Dusk of Hope and three vessels before toward victories against impossible odds. It made her proud. Then guilty again.

“Hello, sir…”

Typhoon Snivel had not expected any transmission. He even had a hard time believing the communication systems were still working. He had imagined his death lonely, accompanied by the soft buzz of the last servitors around him. As dutiful as they were, their conversation skills were pretty lacking. It took him a second to react to the attempt of communication. A few more to remember that he had no operator to take it for him and to do the job by himself. The holodeck shimmered to life. Several moments passed before the connection was established and a familiar face appeared on the screen.

The unicorn had wondered who would have contacted him. All things considered, seeing his operator appear on the screen didn’t surprise him much. It was oddly fitting that it would be her. “Hello, Operator,” he let out tiredly.

For an moment, there were no words. The situation was unfamiliar. There was no order to be given or received. There were in fact, no captain nor operator. Only Typhoon Snivel and Rolling Die. It was somehow pleasing to the unicorn. It was his last moments; there were worst ways to spend them. So Typhoon Snivel watched the mare. For once returning the attentive glare she’d send him when she thought he would not pay attention.

She was rather small – a common thing for pegasi spending their life in artificial gravity. Her basic military training had given her enough muscles to make her look stocky rather than sickly. Her short grass-green mane was messy. Maybe messier than usual, he noted. Black spots – of promethium he guessed – riddled her uniform, wings and coat which accentuated her ragged and exhausted look. But all of these were expectable. The resignation in her eyes was not.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Rolling Die?”

The pegasus became stiff at the mention of her name. She looked for accusation in it, in the tone. She was surprised to find none.

“I came to... I mean...” The words failed her. It was even harder than in her head.

“I don’t mind waiting for you to find your words,” he laughed softly, “but I don’t think the Dusk will be be very compliant in this.”

“Sorry, sir!” The unicorn laughed quietly, causing more confusion to the pegasus. She took a deep breath and finally spoke. “I came to apologize, sir.”

“Apologize? What for?”

“I trapped you here, Captain...”

Typhoon Snivel stayed silent. Yes. It would make sense the she’d believe that.

“The Imperium will lose a hero today, sir... And I cannot help but feel responsible... sir.”

“Yes the Imperium may have lost that today...” he whispered pensively. He observed his pitiful-looking operator. Typhoon Snivel was not soft with his crew. He knew them as his own foals, knew all their strengths and flaws and treated them fairly. But he stayed distant. He never closed the gap for he feared exactly that. That feelings and regrets may one day come in opposition to duty. Maybe there was a lesson to teach before he died. “Yet I do believe that it didn’t lose all his brilliant contributors.”

“Sir?”

“There were more than a thousand souls on the Dusk of Hope. Today, your contribution helped saving most of them. Maybe I could have done it without you raising the alarm for an insignificant surge in the shields. Maybe I could have been able to send the abomination in space on my own. But I was not on my own. You made it possible for me to react fast and efficiently. Just as intended.”

“Sir, I–”

“And it all came at the cost of a hoofful of lives.”

“But–”

“And that’s not event taking into account PV-01. Nor the countless souls we may have saved. Thanks to these sacrifices.”

Silence again. The message was starting to get to her, but the officer was not quite finished yet.

“Beside. You didn’t condemn me. I never intended to leave the ship to begin with.”

“What? Why?”

The officer smiled, his face merely choosing a pose rather than expressing a feeling. Because that was my duty and the oath I swore when I accepted the captainship of the Dusk. He almost told her. But he didn’t; he wanted his death to mean something to her. “We had to face a coordinated attack, where the enemy had the means to send monsters at the heart of our ships. They sabotaged our Warp-Drive and as far as we know, they did the same to the Crusader, the Barrier and the Retribution. Worst, we may be the only ship still able to function. It’s safe to say all four of us have fallen... We were simply outmached.” His voice drifted off for a second. Typhoon caught himself before his weakness showed too obviously. Maintaining the spell and talking to the pegasus was taking a greater toll on his body than he thought… But he had to keep up and look strong while doing so.

“This was a fight we could not win,” he continued, matter-of-factly. “But that doesn’t mean we had to let the enemy win either. They apparently wanted the ships intact, or else they’d have destroyed them.”

Rolling Die finally caught up his meaning. “So ramming the Crusader is a good way to get rid of half their prize... before they could react...”

Typhoon Snivel smiled and nodded. “I could have sent the Dusk on the Tartarus and left the ship. Why do you think I didn’t?”

Rolling Die thought about it a second. The answer came up pretty quickly.

“Because there’s a chance they could send another creature...”

“See? You get it.”

“But–”

“No buts, Rolling Die. If I had had more time or knew exactly what we were facing, I could have thought of something else, but it was not the case. I did my best. We all did.”

She pondered upon it for a few seconds before answering. There was more strength behind the words this time. “Yes, sir.”

Silence grew thick again. This time however, it carried no shame nor awkwardness. It was the comfortable silent born from a discussion where everything important had been successfully conveyed.

“Sir?” Rolling Die asked, finally breaking the lull. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did.” The tone was serious, the smirk on his face was not.

“Sorry...”

“You already used your quota of sorries for this discussion, Die,” he jested. “Come on. Ask away.”

“So– I mean... Yes sir.” She smiled. “You–you hate coffee right?”

“It taste as if the foulest part of the Warp had pissed in water and dubbed it a healthy drink,” he stated plainly, enticing a laugh to his operator.

“Then... why do you drink it?” she asked, still giggling. “You always have this flask full of it and you always drink it when things get bad.”

“Because...” he started.

Captain Typhoon Snivel pondered upon it. The answer was obvious, but the correct words eluded him. He looked at his screens. The Crusader took all the place in it now. How much time did he have left? Ten minutes? Half an hour? Funny how his own death looked so distant despite its imminence. Typhoon looked back at his Operator. The silence stayed unbroken for several seconds. Then the captain talked, his voice as calm and resolute as ever.

“Because, it’s a small price to pay for the Imperium.”

Author's Note

"We commend our souls to the Empress. Let the story of our sacrifice burn across history like a shooting star."
- Ultramares Veteran Sergeant Purging Light

"One cannot consider the fate of a single pony, nor ten, nor a thousand. Billions will live or die by our actions here, and we have not the luxury to count the cost."
- Inquisitor Kryptmare

"There is no price too high to pay for the Imperium."
– Captain Typhoon Snivel.