Homeworld: Equestria - The Silent Hunters

by hiigaran

Rating: teen
Tags: Diamond Dogs, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Changelings, Science Fiction, Adventure, Griffons, Crossover, Zebra
Length: 179451

The abilities of Equestria's space-faring navy are tested once more, as the war with the Turanic Raiders uncovers highly unsettling technology.

The abilities of Equestria's space-faring navy are tested once more, as the war with the Turanic Raiders uncovers highly unsettling technology.

Published 2019-04-08 16:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2021-10-09 14:21:04 UTC

1: Old Enemies

Author's Note

Well, with the announcement that the G4 era is coming to an end, I thought I'd fish out this old thing from my backups. After the first HW:E, I went a few years before deciding to write up a sequel, but lacking free time, I ended up abandoning it. Work, studies, the usual. 21 hour shifts and 12 hour sleeps = Bad times.

In any case, I figured it would have been a shame to let all that effort go to waste. Not only did I have 115K words, but also an elaborate Blender file for the ship many of the chapters are located in, as a writing and continuity aid. Wireframe below.

Original image was 40MB and 24000x10000, but Imgur had to scale it down quite a bit.

Now have at it! Let's see if I can finish this before the release of Homeworld 3 destroys this story with its canon!

1: Old Enemies

Another blast of magic struck the four-legged, insect-like creature square in its chest. Though the lone changeling’s armour absorbed most of the hit, the force had still been enough to knock it through the window of a nearby corner shop. Recovering faster than expected, the black beast emerged, ignoring a large shard of glass embedded in its side and tackling one of several royal guards that had it surrounded.

Additional blasts were sent its way. Reacting instantly, the assailant took hold of the guard beneath it, tossing him at an incoming streak of magic. Falling to the side, the guard landed in a crumpled heap, motionless. Whether the attack had been lethal or not, the changeling did not care, instead focusing its attention on subduing the eighteenth guard since the start of the Canterlot invasion.

A pair of guards sent volleys of attacks while charging towards their aggressor. Bracing itself for the next move, the changeling ducked low, sidestepping to the right. As one of the guards missed his lunge, the changeling pulled the glass from its side, slashing the pony’s left foreleg and throwing the shard at the other. The wheezing gasp of the unfortunate unicorn told the changeling it had punctured a lung.

A second changeling burst out from a nearby second floor window, landing hard on the back of a guard attempting to retrieve one of his bleeding comrades. The guard discharged an involuntary spell, glancing the first changeling’s armour and bouncing off into a crowd of civilians running for cover, many of whom shrieked in terror. The rumbling of a collapsing building could be heard in their direction, with a thick cloud of dust thrown into the sky as it fell.

Momentarily examining the rubble near the civilians, the changelings returned their menacing stares towards the last guards standing. The pair prepared to finish off their opposition, when a shock-wave from the nearby castle caught their attention. Seeing the black dots of their kind in distant parts of the city blasted away upon contact, they stood helpless as the oncoming front raced towards them.

Obsidian jerked awake with a gasp, catching himself before falling off the bed. Taking some time to steady his breathing, he pushed himself up and rubbed his eyes. When he could no longer hear his heart pounding in his head, the tension in his body lessened.

“Hey, you alright?” a dry voice spoke up.

Obsidian had not noticed the lazy buzzing of wings from his cousin, whose head poked into the bedroom. Despite the near pitch-black darkness, he could see luminescent eyes floating in the doorway. “I’m fine,” he lied, his gravely voice faltering. “What are you doing up at this hour, Void?”

The silhouette of Void’s body came into view, as he hovered into the room. “Got a little thirsty. The usual with you?”

Feeling around for his bedside lamp, Obsidian added just enough light to make out simple features around him, before sinking back down onto his back. “Yeah. Ever since I got this, however”—he picked up a letter beside the lamp and waved it about—“it’s become a nightly occurrence again.”

“I still don’t know why you’re beating yourself up about that day.”

“I’m not. I know I couldn’t have helped you, but that doesn’t stop me from reliving that moment, over and over.” Obsidian grew silent, before rolling onto his side and facing Void with a hardened gaze. “Every single event leading up to that point was because of Equestria,” his voice grew increasingly loud. “They put our Queen into that position. They forced us to do something drastic. Now they have the audacity to ask us to work alongside them? After what they did to us? To you?”

“I’ve always found it funny how it seems to affect you more than it affects me.” Glancing at the piece of paper near Obsidian, Void continued. “Now, you going to tell me what’s in that letter already? You were so busy yelling about Equestria’s nerve or something, and I couldn’t get you calm enough to tell me before you disappeared for several days.”

“I owe you an apology, Void. I just—I just had to be alone and clear my head after all that.” Throwing his blanket off, Obsidian sat upright. “You remember how Equestria got that Navy not too long after the invasion? Well long story short, they are expanding, but need crew. They used to be just a bunch of ponies and griffons, but apparently they’re trying to get zebras and even diamond dogs involved. Take a wild guess at who else they want.”

“No way!” Void boomed, his eyes sparkling. “You’re going to go to space?”

“Believe me, I was more than vocal about the Queen’s decision.” Obsidian rolled his eyes at Void’s juvenile enthusiasm. “I’m actually surprised she took my comments so well. Never spoken out of line like that before. But the fact of the matter is, she wanted to send her best, so if you’ll pardon my melodramatic sentiment, my gift becomes my curse. Seems we ‘lings have certain special talents.”

“You’re. Going. To. Space!” Void squealed. Buzzing his wings in shorter, rapid strokes, he moved closer to Obsidian. “You’ve got to be buzzing mad to turn down an assignment like that, you drama queen!”

Obsidian groaned. “I really don’t want to be near ponies, let alone work alongside them. What will the others think? One of their own, working for the very nation that starved us to near death! In any other situation, I’d be calling that treason!”

A smirk grew on Void’s face. “Well, look on the bright side. You just said the Queen chose you because she thought you were the best, yeah? So why not show all those ponies how much better you are than them? You’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t enjoy being right.”

“Sure, use your psychology on me, you little maggot.”

“Hey”—Void shrugged—“it’s what I do.”

Obsidian snorted. A moment of silence hung over the two, until a thought popped into his mind. “So what about you then?”

“Eh? What about me?”

“Well I may be gone for long periods at a time,” Obsidian explained, concern apparent on his face. “What if you need help with anything?”

“If you’re referring to my dangly legs”—Void flew in a small circle to emphasise the lifelessness of his hind legs—“I’ve managed without your help for years. Sure, I’d have preferred to walk away from the invasion in the literal sense, but hey, I got some serious muscle in these wings now! So how about you stop being a grouchy ’ling looking for excuses not to go, and see this as an opportunity to have some fun. Make a couple of friends, or something. Or, y’know, find the silver lining and meet a cute little griffon.”

“Funny,” Obsidian deadpanned.

Void shrugged again. “One of us has to be. You’ve got the talent, and I’ve got the charm and good looks! Now go on, get some rest. You’ll probably need it.”

Do it for her

Several clicks sounded in succession as the locks on a small, black suitcase snapped closed. Its owner, a lemon-yellow unicorn, held a checklist against a set of candles, reading each line against the dim lighting. Running her hoof past each point, she double-checked and triple-checked she had everything needed for the next six weeks.

Do it for her

Devoid of expression, she took a seat at her small study, failing miserably at an attempt to hold a stoic expression. Because that’s what they do, right? What I’m supposed to do too? Gazing out of her window, she stared off into the distance at a large building, its red cross sign barely visible against the twilight of dawn. Fighting back the tears welling up in her peridot eyes, she repeated the same four words in her mind, as if it were her mantra.

Do it for her

Sighing, she placed her checklist by an envelope, printed with a monochrome symbol of her future life; a large outline of a circle overlapped by a pair of inverted wings. Positioned between the wings was Princess Celestia’s cutie mark beneath a smaller circle containing Princess Luna’s crescent moon. Brushing it aside with mild disgust, she watched the envelope fall, sliding along the floorboards until it hit the leg of her bed in the corner of the room. Her lip quivered momentarily, before she buried her face in her hooves.

A knock came at the open bedroom door. “Glare?”

“AAH!” Glare jumped to her hooves, the sudden motion sending her long amber mane into disarray. Wheeling around, she found a maroon figure standing in the doorway. “Dad!”

Glare’s father approached, placing a hoof around the shorter unicorn. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was … Have you been crying? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Glare sniffed, her mellow voice brittle and quivering. Levitating a nearby brush, she draped her mane behind her neck, letting it split evenly to either side of her withers before smoothing it all out. “I was just thinking about … about …”

“Your sister is doing fine, Glare. She’s in good hooves.”

Glare knew that was a complete lie. She didn’t need two visits per day to confirm that. Her father’s hesitation, the way he avoided eye contact, and his solemn expression were proof enough. Without replying, she moved away, rolling her suitcase out of her room and leaving it beside the entrance door downstairs. With a carriage scheduled to pick her up in the next few minutes, she sat on the couch in the living room and closed her eyes, focusing on anything other than the future.

She could still remember the day she came home after another unsuccessful job interview. Her father and little sister, both of whom appeared to have been crying for an extended period, were hugging each other tightly on the couch. When they broke the news to Glare, when she learned a rare, physically crippling illness had struck her sister, she was utterly devastated. Every day since, Glare refused to let her out of sight, remaining by her side as her disease gradually worsened. At least, until the filly’s condition forced her to stay at the hospital.

For several weeks, Glare would either spend her time by her sister’s bed, or shut in her room back home. Her father fared no better. With each day, the stallion appeared increasingly exhausted and unkempt—something Glare eventually noticed. After finding her father passed out from fatigue, she snooped through his papers. What she discovered caused her to redouble her efforts in finding a job, finally landing one out of desperation.

Before she could relive additional agonising memories, a set of heavy hoofsteps approached. Her father was by no means overweight, but there was some purpose to each step. Opening her eyes, she saw him looming over her.

Her father’s tone changed. “Glaring Light,” he began, to the mare’s surprise. She rarely heard him call anypony by their full name, and he knew full well Glare was not overly fond of hers. “What exactly was this job of yours again?”

“An archaeological site in Saddle Arabia needed somepony to help with investigating ancient magic for a few months,” Glare parroted a well-rehearsed explanation and scratched her muzzle. “Haven’t I uhh, mentioned this multiple times?”

“Hmm, must be my memory going bad. I think my eyesight might also be going as well.” Producing a folded letter, the stallion thrust the paper into Glare’s hooves.

Unfolding the letter slowly, the blood drained from her face when she realised what she forgot to pick up off the floor in her room. “Uhh …” was all she managed to say.

“Well? Isn’t this the part where you tell me it’s not what it looks like?” her father’s voice rose. “That you have a perfectly reasonable explanation for spitting on our family’s pacifistic values and choosing to go on some—some killing spree in space?”

Unable to meet her father’s piercing gaze, Glare hung her head. “It’s … exactly what it looks like. That is a letter of acceptance from the Equestrian Navy.” Glare was on the verge of tears again. Blinking hard, she looked up at her father with glistening eyes. “I had no other option, dad. Nopony is hiring in jobs that could pay for Glint’s treatments.”

“How do you—”

“I’ve seen the bills, dad. You’re barely able to afford every other expense as it is, even with your second job. Yes, I saw your bank statements as well. You're supporting us, your parents, and mum's. All those expenses will run you dry in four or five months, assuming you don’t burn yourself out first. What then?”

“Leave me to worry about the financial state of this family, Glare. You just focus on finding a job. A—a real job. I know you mean well, but this? No, I forbid this.”

“Excuse me?” Glare stood, tears forming tracks down her face. “You want to forbid the best chance of keeping my sister alive? This is the best—no, this is the only opportunity I’ve had to help, and you dare tell me I can’t take it? Do you even love her?”

“Watch it, Glare,” he threatened in a low voice. “You watch your mouth.”

“I’ll watch nothing! Here I am trying to do anything to help Glint, and you just talk about ‘family values’ and choosing what you think is the safest decision with the least risk.” Glare looked out the window to find her carriage landing nearby, towed by four white pegasi in their trademark golden guard armour. “I know exactly where that decision will take us. What’s the point of family values if there’s no family?”

“Damn it Glare, I’ve already lost your mother! I’m not losing you too! Least of all to this ridiculous pursuit of violence!”

“I lost mum as well! Have you forgotten that? I was with her when they—” Glare winced at the memory. “No, I refuse to lose Glint, and if that means I need to do something drastic, then so be it. Here’s a newsflash for you, dad; not every Navy role involves harm towards others, and you know full well I detest violence as much as you. Now, you can either accept my choice”—Glare headed for the entrance door—“or not. My mind was made up long ago.”

“I can’t. I won’t.” Glare’s father moved between Glare and the door. “Directly or indirectly, it doesn’t matter. You’re still facilitating the horrendous deaths of others!”

“If you’re going to use that logic, the taxes you pay are indirectly facilitating those deaths as well.”

“That—that’s completely different!”

“Hardly! Now get out of my way.”

“No.”

“Move!”

“NO!”

“Fine!” Glare placed a hoof atop her suitcase. Her horn sparkled for a moment before both she and her belongings disappeared with an audible ‘poof’. A yellow flash was all that was left behind, before another flash shone through the frosted glass of the door behind her father. Reappearing outside, Glare dragged her suitcase towards the carriage, a determined look upon her face.

“Glare! Glare!” her father shouted, as he emerged from the house, attracting the attention of the adjacent neighbours who peeked through the blinds of their bedrooms. “Listen to me carefully! You get into that carriage, and you’ll never be welcome here again!”

Glare stopped dead in her tracks. Turning her head back, she looked at her father as if she had been slapped in the face. “What did you just say?”

“No daughter of mine will be responsible in any way for the death of another,” Glare’s father continued shouting across the front yard, attracting attention from the occupants of nearby houses. “If that day comes, she will cease to be my daughter.”

“So you go from not wanting to lose me, to downright disowning me? If I lose Glint by standing idle, then am I not responsible? By that logic, I won’t be your daughter in a few months anyway!” Turning back, she threw her bag in the back of the large carriage and climbed aboard, finding several other passengers already seated with their eyes fixated on her. Taking the last seat available, she watched her father shouting inaudibly and stomping a hoof in protest, as her home slid from view. Once airborne, her quivering lip gave way to choked sobs.

Nearby, one of the other passengers elbowed another beside him. “Hey, check out the waterworks at three o’clock,” he announced, loud enough for every occupant to hear.

A single involuntary spark came from Glare’s horn. Silencing herself long enough to make eye contact with the one who spoke, her horn lit up, surrounding herself in a painfully bright golden cylindrical barrier, to the major annoyance of everypony else within. She spent the rest of the flight ignoring several muffled shouts and hooves hammering against her spell.

“Remind me again why we are in disguise,” Obsidian whispered beside Queen Chrysalis, both of whom took the forms of brown pegasi as they headed towards the small military spaceport beneath Canterlot. “Seems unnecessary if we were supposedly ‘invited’.”

“Our dear Princess Celestia did not wish to cause panic among her little ponies,” Chrysalis explained, mocking the suggestion made in the letter Celestia had sent her.

The smaller of the two figures rolled his eyes. “Of course. Stupid question. There’s always panicking ponies involved somehow. I’m guessing that’s also why our meeting with her is at one in the morning then?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.”

The pair continued in relative silence. While Chrysalis seemed to know where she was going, Obsidian continued darting his eyes around, observing everything that moved, and everything that didn’t. The gentle rustling of leaves in the trees. Corners around buildings. The small tufts of low-flying clouds. These features, among others, were potential points of ambush for the two if this night were to be a trap.

A pair of royal guards stood at attention to either side of a security checkpoint with chain-link fencing and barbed wire. As the changelings approached, the guard on the right stated, “This area is off limits to civilians.”

Before he had a chance to speak again, Chrysalis presented a letter to the stallion. After reading the letter, his eyes widened, shifting between the disguised pair and the letter. Reading the letter once more, he beckoned a third guard over from the small office nearby and whispered something into his ear. Halfway through their hushed conversation, his eyes widened too.

Retrieving a pair of lanyards with red and white ID cards displaying ‘VISITOR’ on them, the guards instructed Chrysalis and Obsidian to wear them while on the premises, before granting access. Continuing deeper into the docks via a path lined with office blocks and industrial buildings, the changelings found the area deserted, save for the occasional guard at his or her post. Obsidian noticed every guard they passed by had not taken their eyes off them for as long as they remained in sight.

Feeling uneasy, Obsidian twitched his wings, ensuring he could still feel the throwing knives concealed beneath them. After a brief thought he was rather surprised neither of them were searched for weapons when they entered. Was that arrogance, or carelessness? He whispered once again, “What was that letter you gave to the guards?”

“Celestia included it with the other letter she sent me, informing the guards of our true identities and that we’re expected.”

“That explains why at least four guards are failing to follow us discretely.”

Chrysalis hummed. “I only count three. I must be losing my touch.”

“The one on the rooftop is painfully obvious, as is the one hiding around corners behind us. Any half-deaf ’ling can hear his hoofsteps when he moves up. Then you have that little cloud changing direction above us. Clearly he or she lacks basic understanding of meteorology, since cirrus is a horrible choice for that size, and at this altitude. Idiot forgot to tuck his tail in, too. The fourth I noticed in the buildings to the left. Third floor. Watches us from window corners, then repositions to maintain visual.”

“And this is why you're my favourite bodyguard, Obsidian. I'm going to miss your astute observations. I suppose with you gone, I’ll have to put up with Skitter and Petrichor for a while. Ugh, he always reeks of mushrooms, that one.” Chrysalis scrunched her face at the mere thought. Turning a corner, she sighted a lone figure. “Ah, I believe that would be Celestia off in the distance. Her white coat and oversized posterior are unmistakable, even if she didn’t have that ridiculous mane and tail.”

“I heard they’re fake.”

“No, she definitely eats enough to—oh, you were referring to—never mind. Yes, I’ve heard that rumour as well, though none of my sources confirmed it. Care to give them a good pull?”

“Just say the word, and I’ll wax them right off instead. Would make for an interesting obituary.”

“What would you like your epitaph to read, then?”

“Just two words: Worth it.”

A moment of silence followed, before the two fought to contain their laughter, resulting in a mixture of snickers and restrained wheezes. Continuing their approach, they closed the distance between themselves and the lone Princess, dropping their disguises as they arrived beside a gangway to one of the Navy’s space-faring vessels.

“Celestia.” Chrysalis spoke first.

“Good morning Queen Chrysalis. I trust you found the docks well enough?”

“Wasn’t too difficult”—Chrysalis inspected her own hoof—“I’ve visited Canterlot before.”

The unimpressed Princess chose to ignore that comment. “Well, you and I will be taking a trip into orbit with the royal frigate here. We have several important issues to discuss, however I will spare you the details until my sister has finished with her duties aboard her vessel. She will meet us and the others on our flagship shortly after our arrival. Please, after you.”

DOWNLOAD COMPLETE
LOGVWR /HOME/EOH-TWI/DOWNLOADS/LOGS/3RDSOLAR/INTERCEPTOR/SEZ005.LOG

INITIALISING …

COCKPIT AUDIO/DATA RECORDER 5
INTERCEPTOR, BLADE-TYPE
REGISTRATION: SEZ, CALL SIGN: LIGHTNING THREE-ONE
3RD SOLAR FLEET
9631.66257534246 GSY

TRANSMISSION, AUDIO
Enemy reinforcements emerging from hyperspace! Destroyers, maintain position! Marines nearing completion of colony evac.

TRANSMISSION, AUDIO
Enemy light cruiser destroyed! Destroyers, concentrate fire on the Rancor. Bomber squads Thunder one through eight, engage the Daggers. Interceptor squads Lightning one through six, cover the bombers.

TRANSMISSION, AUDIO
Marine frigs reporting all civilians aboard and heading away from the asteroid colonies. Torpedo frigs, assume wall formation between marines and nearest enemy forces.

TRANSMISSION, AUDIO
Thunder five-four hit! Starboard plasma launcher inop.

TRANSMISSION, AUDIO
Hyperspace signatures detected. Additional forces exiting hyperspace near marines. Stand by for updates: Four Daggers. All bombers, engage. Torpedo frigs, target weapons and provide fire support.

TRANSMISSION, AUDIO
Fleet, Lightning two-two, request permission to break off. Hit and venting atmosphere.

TRANSMISSION, AUDIO
Lightning two-two, permission granted. Dock with supercarrier Arbalest and await further orders.

TRANSMISSION, AUDIO
Thunder one-one reporting hostile frigs are down. Supporting friendlies.

TRANSMISSION, AUDIO
Additional hyperspace signatures detected. Two Vindicators. Situation update: Hostiles attempting to flank us. Bombers, take out their engines before they intercept Arbalest.

WARNING: SYSTEM MALFUNCTION
LEVEL 2 STATUS REPORT
DISPLAY OFFLINE SYSTEMS …

ENGINE 1: OFFLINE

END STATUS REPORT
2 UNREAD WARNING REPORTS
7 UNREAD CAUTION REPORTS

TRANSMISSION, COCKPIT
Lightning three-one hit. Engine one inop. Engine two peaking at seven-one percent thrust.

TRANSMISSION, AUDIO
Marines successfully docked. Strike-craft, dock with Arbalest. All destroyers and torpedo frigs to cover their retreat and prepare for hyperspace.

VOICE, COCKPIT
Perfect timing. Let’s get the hay out of here. You okay back there?

VOICE, COCKPIT
Yeah bud, I’m good. At least—MISSILE, MISSI—

UNEXPECTED RECORDER END
CODE 602: MALFUNCTION/DAMAGE

Twilight sighed as she closed yet another of the numerous data recorder files downloaded from the battered fleet. Only a few hours ago had she been going over the research goals of a future expedition, when one of Equestria’s fleets emerged from hyperspace above her homeworld. As soon as she became aware of the situation, it took Twilight mere seconds to commence crisis relief efforts for the refugees of a distant race’s colony from the outskirts of Gehenna.

Turanic Raiders. Even the name was enough to make Twilight’s blood boil. Back in the early days during the Harmony campaign, they were a dangerous enough race. With the ensuing power vacuum in the aftermath, these pirates went from mostly opportunistic preying on undefended merchant vessels, to regularly taking large fleets and armed installations by surprise. Though their technology hadn’t changed much, revamped tactics and larger fleets rarely left their targets intact.

“Twilight dear, you seem rather troubled,” a voice rang out from behind Twilight, jolting her out of her analyses. The sky-blue holographic interfaces surrounding Twilight evaporated into the abyss as she dismissed them, and sought out the source of her friend’s voice. Little else occupied Twilight’s infinite plane of nothingness, conjured by one of the six ancient hyperspace cores she resided in, where she and her friends shared mental connections.

A white figure appeared, shining like a beacon in the night, as the dark environment parted for the approaching unicorn. Rarity came to a halt in front of her agitated friend, her mane bouncing slightly as she surveyed the all-encompassing void constructed by Twilight’s mind. “You know, you could use a little decor in here,” Rarity began.

“Anything unnecessary serves only to distract me,” Twilight stated bluntly, falling on her haunches and rubbing a temple. “I’ve been picking these logs apart, trying to gain some insight into the cause of these Raider attacks. Their ferocity has increased exponentially since the days of Harmony, and despite everything, I’ve failed to find a definitive cause. I’m sure the Vaygr have at least partially joined their ranks, but that still wouldn’t explain this spike in activity. A domino effect from some unknown raid? Collaboration with escaped members of that Gaalsien fleet? Progenitor artefact? It could be anything!”

Rarity remained silent as her friend started pacing and mumbling other theories. Closing her eyes, she transported herself and Twilight into a construct of Rarity’s own mental creation; a perfect replica of the spa from her home town of Ponyville. Gesturing towards the water, she continued, “I’ve found that when one has too much on her mind, a session of relaxation works wonders.”

Twilight’s pacing ceased. “I appreciate the suggestion, but what I—what we have on our plates can’t be solved with a virtual-reality spa.”

“How about the real thing, then?”

“Rarity!”

“Alright, alright.” Rarity restored Twilight’s environment back to its original state. “Still, I think I speak for all of us when I say we could do with a few days off. I’m quite positive Applejack misses her family, and Fluttershy would surely like to check up on her animals face to face.”

“And there’s a Wonderbolts show in a few days I’ve been looking forward to,” Rainbow Dash’s voice echoed from nowhere in particular. “Yeah, the view is great from here, but it doesn’t feel the same as being right there in the stands.”

“Rainbow, you are a Wonderbolt,” Twilight called out to the void.

“Your point being?”

“Ooh! Ooh! And I’ve got a hot date with some hotcakes!” Pinkie Pie’s voice cut in. “It’s gonna involve looooots of maple syrup!”

“See, Twilight? We could all benefit from a little break,” Rarity explained. “We’re no good to others if we’re mentally exhausted, after all.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Twilight brought up several interfaces and began swiping away several objects on them. “I wasn’t making much progress with these intercepted Gaalsien transmissions filled with insults toward us ‘godless scum’ anyway.” Watching the last of her work vanish into thin air, she heaved another sigh. “I do miss Ponyville. Spike, too. How about we take three or four days after the meeting?”

“Sounds like a plan to me. So long as I don’t catch you taking your work with you,” Rarity lectured. Before Twilight could open her mouth, Rarity raised a hoof. “Ah! That includes you learning to speak Hiigaran as well. Now then, shall we?”

“Kushan-La,” Twilight corrected with a grumble. Opening her mouth again, she paused. “Which reminds me”—she turned back to one of the interfaces once more—“Go on ahead. I’ll catch up once I’ve sent this data to the Hiigarans. Five minutes.”

“I shall time you,” Rarity’s singsong voice echoed as she faded from the virtual plane. Elsewhere, the other four followed suit.

True to her word, Twilight finished shortly after and disconnected from her core. Feeling the neural bridge lift from her head and a pair of devices detach from her fore-hooves, Twilight’s eyes opened as her mind returned to the physical world. Warm-white lights brightened at a rate allowing the mare to comfortably adjust with her body’s prolonged exposure to darkness. Her hearing returned soon after, becoming quickly attuned to the intermittent hums, pulses, and groans of the ancient device. Popping at the minor pressure differential, her ears swivelled towards the airtight inner doors as they slid open.

When the artificial gravity returned and Twilight made contact with the floor, she stretched whatever muscles she could to relieve the aches her limbs suffered from the lack of movement in a weightless environment. Ducking under the hovering console surrounding her, she made for the elevator past the compartment’s exit, noting the pounding headache and queasiness that ensued after each disconnection from her core. After many cycles of integration and disconnection since her first time aboard the supercarrier Harmony, she had grown accustomed to the somatic effects.

As the elevator ascended to the core’s exterior, Twilight recalled Rainbow Dash being the first to try a core, and the copious vomiting that ensued. Whatever the cleaners were paid to return Dash’s core to its former pristine condition was probably not enough, she chuckled halfheartedly.

Reaching the top, Twilight stepped off her hyperspace core, crossing a narrow extension bridge connecting it to the main walkway. At the far end, a sizeable spiral staircase led her underneath the densely armoured chamber housing the cores in the mothership’s crested dorsal section, and through a thick pair of blast doors. Outside, four guards snapped to attention on either side as the unicorn passed by.

I’ll never get used to that. Don’t know how Shining does it, Twilight shook her head as she descended from a ramp onto a central, enclosed walkway suspended beneath the hangar’s ceiling. Heading towards the fore of the ship, she looked out the windows to either side, gazing upon docked craft spread throughout tiers and hubs in the massive cavern housing eighty strike-craft squadrons.

Though many Equestrian fleets still used outdated Blade-type interceptors and Thunderbolt-type bombers based off designs provided by their allies, the Hiigarans, the mothership Aurora’s complement consisted of newer Wraith-type defence fighters. The tiny, spherical vessels inspired by Kadeshi swarmers and old Kushan defenders merely mounted simple manoeuvring thrusters. The craft relied instead on its pilot’s teleportation skills, plus three plasma-lance turrets below and to either side above the hull in a triangular configuration to take down strike-craft with deadly accuracy.

Several experimental Shiry type bombers were found docked in one small corner. A stark contrast to Wraiths, Shirys were considerably streamlined, with narrow, pointed hulls and two short, anhedral wings, each fitted with an anti-frigate missile underneath, instead of plasma bomb launchers. Their powerful engines and thrusters, combined with hit-and-run tactics, made Shirys effective first-strike units. ’Fun to fly, easy to die’ was one test pilot’s description after a few too many ciders off-duty, referring to their manoeuvrability and lack of armour.

The hangar had a distinct lack of corvette-type ships docked. The unique abilities of Equestrian pilots led to the phasing-out of the bulkier vessels, pushing former shielding crew over to larger, more valuable assets, while pilots bolstered the more effective fighter complement.

Nearing the front of the hangar, Twilight took one final look at a larger ship that seemed out of place; a marine frigate. The elongated vessel sported a pair of vertical communications and sensor arrays to either side of the engine block, and a bridge just ahead of the starboard array. The frigate's most prominent feature was a pair of cargo containers with bevelled corners, normally housing marines and operations equipment. While the original design commandeered hostile ships by positioning its underbelly against a hull to insert teams of soldiers, this particular frigate was special. Painted white and emblazoned with a sun and crescent moon marking, was the royal frigate. Stripped of weapons and with a refurbished interior, it served a peaceful role as an ambassador’s vessel.

Twilight hadn’t even bothered to inspect the frigate when it approached from Princess Luna’s flagship. She knew the royal sisters were to meet with the mares of the cores and several Equestrian Navy officers. With the seemingly unending list of tasks to oversee or complete in her core, however, Twilight still felt mildly annoyed at the request of her physical presence, despite its stated importance.

After another short pair of corridors guarded by additional security crew, Twilight entered the top deck of the bridge. Her presence was immediately responded to, with the first crew member sighting her to call out, "Element on the bridge!" Those moving about or performing non-critical tasks at their stations to snapped to attention to acknowledge Twilight's presence in the hollowed-out, U-shaped command deck, including the mothership’s Captain one deck below. Twilight nodded back at the Captain, who resumed whatever task he was busy with at a nearby navigation table. Leaning on the railing, the mare’s eyes drifted to the nearby vessel Princess Luna commanded, framed by the large observation window.

Kupaart Rozt. The Kushan-La name used by Princess Luna for her vessel roughly translated to Moon Ship. Shortly after the formation of fleets dedicated to planetary defence, Luna’s vessel became the flagship of the First Lunar Fleet, much like Aurora with the First Solar Fleet. While Aurora and the Solar Fleets frequently left the confines of their solar system, Kupaart Rozt and the Lunar Fleets remained nearby, ever watchful for threats against their world. Luna’s flagship represented both her love for Equestria, and the wrath against those who would threaten it.

The vessel resembled a compass rose from above, though with flattened extremities. Even as Twilight remained fixated on the vessel, four artillery turrets on the dorsal ends of the longer arms rotated occasionally. Their gunners never took any chances at the slightest blip on sensors, ready to fire shells able to tear a clean hole through a frigate. Four smaller sets of rapid-fire suppression cannons mounted on the underside behaved similarly, swivelling around in blurs, and able to unleash a dense hailstorm that no strike-craft would emerge from unscathed. Only two turrets remained motionless. Centrally mounted above and below were Kadeshi-derived heavy ion cannons a sane aggressor would never dare to approach.

Princess Luna does not mess around, Twilight thought. Between Luna’s flagship and using her moon as a celestial wrecking ball, Twilight’s view on the Princess was certainly an understatement. Invasion scenario drills and war games typically ended with Kupaart Rozt and her escorts performing a short-jump manoeuvre into the heart of approaching fleets; an unexpectedly aggressive tactic for the defensive fleet.

Applejack appeared behind Twilight. “Hiya Twi.”

Turning around, Twilight found the rest of her friends filing in through the door. “And here I thought I was the one who would be running late.”

“We needed to … freshen up, as it were,” Rarity remarked. “I take it the Princesses have arrived then?”

“They’re in one of the briefing rooms downstairs,” Twilight answered, motioning the others to follow as she headed down a nearby flight of stairs. “Apparently they’ve got some important information they’d like to share with us. Though honestly, I don’t see why we need to be present physically.”

“It would simply be more polite, dear. It’s not quite the same to speak to others in the manner we have grown accustomed to,” Rarity explained, sighting six royal guards at attention to either side of a briefing room.

“What’s with all the guards?” Pinkie pointed. “Ooh! Are we reforming another baddie? Is that why they’re there?”

“Ugh, if it is, send me back to my core. I’ve performed enough of those miracles to last me a lifetime,” Rainbow Dash grumbled, slouching in mock exhaustion and practically hanging from her wings as she remained airborne.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Twilight knocked against the door. Sliding open, another guard stood facing her. After a quick nod, he stepped aside and allowed the six to enter, greeting them to the sight of a multicultural meeting. Their eyes quickly landed upon Princess Celestia at the far end of the round table, before widening at the sight of the one who sat beside her.

“You!” Twilight growled at the guest.

“What in th’ hay is she doin’ here?” Applejack stomped a hoof.

Hovering above the other five, Rainbow Dash decided to add her two bits, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t—”

“Enough!” Princess Luna silenced the newcomers. “I am no happier than anypony else to have the Queen of changelings aboard this vessel, let alone anywhere near my subjects. However, galactic events have not given us much choice in the matter.”

“Well, well. This is certainly a most wonderful start to our little tea party,” Queen Chrysalis commented with unrestrained sarcasm.

“Oh stick an apple in it!” Applejack spat.

Chrysalis leaned towards Celestia. “Does the apple pony always speak in apples?”

“Please have a seat,” Princess Celestia requested, her calm tone contrasting with her sister’s authoritative voice. Ignoring Chrysalis, and the tension in the air, she resumed. “Now that all are present, let us begin with a round of introductions. To my left, as my sister pointed out, is the ruler of the old changeling hive, Queen Chrysalis, plus King Goraidh the Second of the Griffon Kingdom, and Queen Zakiya of the zebra tribes. Beside my sister is Argos, Alpha of the diamond dogs. My guests, these are Twilight, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy; the Elements of Harmony, and custodians of the ancient hyperspace cores. Joining us as well are Admiral Foxtrot and Commander Quasar.”

Taking a moment to admire the white uniforms she had designed, Rarity quickly deduced that the platinum-grey pegasus with three blue stripes sewn around his sleeves was the Commander. The adjacent earth pony of a lighter shade wearing an additional star and thicker stripe was the Admiral. “This is an … interesting collection of guests,” she remarked, taking a seat beside the Admiral.

“And no doubt you have many questions,” Celestia responded. “All of which will be answered in time. The galaxy is an undeniably dangerous place, and from the ever-growing reports we have received, things will only get worse. We have therefore spent the past year revising our space-faring military structure in response. However, despite our expected results leading us to believe we can create a more effective Navy, we have run into some problems.”

“Primarily one large problem,” Luna continued. “While we intend on continuing fleet expansions, a major issue is of crew. Despite improving strike-craft crew distribution efficiency, the combined crew count of ponies and griffons has our numbers stretched thin, limiting our effectiveness and placing unnecessary risk upon the rest of our crew. For this reason, and that our Navy is here to defend our entire planet, we have decided to open our Navy to additional nations.”

Zakiya was the first to speak up, her copious amounts of jewellery dancing as she moved. “To my understanding, your Navy has existed for over five of these ‘galactic standard years’, which I believe is approximately seven of ours, correct?” she paused, waiting for a small nod from Celestia. “If you truly believed the notion that we should all have a right to be a part of this Navy for the reasons you mentioned, why was this offer not brought up sooner? Why were the griffons your only allies?”

“When your predecessor and other national leaders at that time became aware of our Navy’s existence, we participated in lengthy discussions to address the power imbalance concerns weighted in Equestria’s favour. Significant emphasis was placed on abuse of technology for espionage, or worse.” Celestia levitated a transcript of the relevant meeting over to the zebra. “To alleviate concerns and supply ample crew, we allowed the griffons to serve alongside us. Whilst we have maintained transparency, the offer was exclusive to the griffons to simplify communications and logistics. Of course, we must now deal with the complexity of involving several nations for the sake of providing an effective force.”

Applejack raised a hoof, “So, guess I’m gonna have to say it then. Why changelings and diamond dogs? No offence to the diamond dogs,” she quickly added, maintaining eye contact with Chrysalis the entire time.

“Tactics employed in space have bared far too many similarities to outdated ground-based methods,” the officer known as Commander Quasar explained. “While using the right types of units against the right adversaries provided an advantage, the outcome typically favours unit quantity, or results in significant losses to the victor regardless. Losses we have deemed unacceptable. Back in the early days of this Navy, the cloak generator technology Harmony’s fleet relied on became a primary factor in securing victory for the fleet with … minimal losses. Naturally, much research has gone into perfecting the technology.”

Commander Quasar stood, delivering a small folder to each participant before returning to his seat. “In the last few months, the research division aboard this vessel achieved just that; a device able to sustain itself indefinitely while powered. Major efficiency enhancements have eliminated the heating issue of outdated models, and miniaturisation advances permit destroyer-class mountings. While our researchers were unable to overcome the psychological effects of small-scale fighter devices, single-burn devices in larger ordnance allow improved combat effectiveness.”

“I recall that destroyer,” Twilight spoke up while flipping through the pages she received. “We classed it as a stealth destroyer and had the prototype constructed on the Aurora. ‘Amarok’ was the designated name if I remember correctly. Still, this doesn’t answer Applejack’s question.”

“I’m leading up to that.” Quasar poured himself a glass of water before proceeding. “As mentioned, our tactics are outdated. This new destroyer will change that. The ability to remain undetected against forces many times one’s size allows us to secure more territory and keep crew safer. Plus if they can remain undetected indefinitely, they can sneak into the heart of an unsuspecting fleet, deploying troops into targets to capture or sabotage, the same way marine frigates operate. If the final trials of our prototype are successful, these destroyers will render marines obsolete, further simplifying crew training, distribution and fleet composition when combined with a multinational crew.”

Pausing, Quasar took a drink, surveying his audience. “Regarding the acceptance of changelings, if we are to send a team to infiltrate an enemy vessel, it must be small, agile and discrete; a role perfectly suited to changelings. As for diamond dogs, you need only take one look at them to realise how effective they would be in scenarios involving significant physical activity. One diamond dog can perform the physical work of at least five earth ponies in engineering, or as part of a repair team. This usefulness extends to infiltration ops warranting a need for heavy weapons or excessive equipment. The fewer members a team comprises, the lower the likelihood of being compromised.”

This time, it was Admiral Foxtrot’s turn to speak. The bulky stallion, adorned with multiple ribbons accumulated over his career, rose. “Stealth destroyers are obviously new for us. Each would require a squad of capable individuals designated ‘Infiltrators’, working similarly to marines. Our plan is to trial a squad aboard Amarok, comprised of a diamond dog, changeling, zebra, unicorn, and two pegasi, using each one’s strengths to form a more effective unit through diversity. While promising in theory and under controlled testing conditions, the real results of the squad’s effectiveness will ultimately come from the field. As such, future stealth destroyers will have varying team compositions our experts believe would form effective squads.”

“I suppose if anything, this might improve relations with the other changelings,” Fluttershy commented.

“I hope so, for everyone’s sake, but you need not worry about the political side of this matter,” Celestia reassured. “Now, before we take a quick break, I believe we should introduce our first Infiltrator.”

Princess Celestia nodded to a nearby guard standing by the door, who promptly left the room. Escorting a brown pegasus into the room shortly after, the guard returned to his position. In a flash of green, the newcomer dropped his disguise and Obsidian revealed himself, to the shock of half the occupants.

“It’s a darn infestation,” Applejack mumbled to herself.

“Allow me to present Obsidian,” Celestia announced. “He will serve aboard Amarok upon completion of his training. Commander Quasar, as Amarok’s Captain, I will leave it to you or your subordinates to select the remainder of your future Infiltrator squad.”

Quasar nodded. “I have a couple of additional trials to oversee in the near future, but I should be able to manage it myself, Princess.”

“Wonderful.” With a smile, Celestia turned to the changeling. “Now, Obsidian, if you’ll kindly take a seat and remain here with Admiral Foxtrot, he will provide you with additional information pertaining to your new role. As for everyone else, shall we meet back here in about twenty minutes?”

After a murmur of agreement, the majority of the room’s occupants rose and exited, leaving the Admiral and Obsidian alone. The Admiral’s piercing gaze on Obsidian continued until the door shut itself.

“I have to admit, when I first joked about changelings serving in the Navy, I never expected others to give it any serious thought”—the stallion shook his head—“yet here we are. Right, I’ll stick to the point. Considering this is a unique situation we’ve never had policies for, my fellow officers and I had to discuss your future, taking your skills into account. The consensus is that the equivalent of a senior commissioned officer of Chrysalis’s hive can’t be trusted with a commissioned or warrant officer rank in the Navy. The decision has therefore been made to provide you with our highest non-commissioned rank of Chief Petty Officer upon completion of your training, along with a special operations rating.”

“What exactly does this rank involve, as far as responsibilities?”

“For you, the rank will mean nothing more than a pay grade. You’ve got about as much responsibility as a junior enlisted.”

Obsidian remained silent. The admiral removed a piece of paper from a nearby stack of folders and slid it across to the changeling. On it was a table showing activities for different days over the course of several months.

“Your basic training will be on an accelerated schedule, giving you only three weeks in which you’ll be expected to pass all theoretical and practical assessments with a score of ninety-eight percent. Fail any assessment, and you’ll be placed on a standard training schedule. Physical training will also be significantly reduced in favour of weapons training. If everything goes according to plan, your advanced training will also be on an accelerated schedule, at about four fifths of the full schedule’s length. Questions?”

“Nothing relevant to what we are discussing.”

“Well what exactly were you wondering about then?”

“Mostly about what your Navy’s plan is for future changelings. I’m also curious about whether changelings will serve from the … other hive.”

“I assume you mean Thorax’s one? Believe me, they were the first we tried to contact. They declined our offer on the grounds that their new ideals of peace and whatnot conflict with the Navy. The offer is always open for them though. As for our plans with you or any future changelings from Chrysalis’ hive, I can only tell you that for the time being, only a few will serve.”

“Your way of monitoring us, I assume?”

“Partly. Equestrians need to get used to the idea of working with changelings. A sudden influx of your kind will not help. Cultural clashes, bad history, we dealt with that when we started working with the griffons as well. Now for your training, I suggest taking on a regular disguise to avoid issues with recruits. Your instructors and key points of contact will know you by name. I also suggest using the time leading up to your starting date to absorb as much information as you can about the Navy. Once the others have finished their talks, you and your Queen will return home via the royal frigate. You’ll find reading material, along with your GCU, BPS, VMUI—”

“Am I supposed to know what those abbreviations are?” Obsidian cut in.

“Right. General combat uniform would be your standard camo. Doubt it’s of much use for you, but it serves as a mounting for the rest of your gear. BPS, or basic pressure suit, replaces the GCU when required. Due to Amarok’s design, its crew will use it frequently, so get used to that one. Their mag boots need some practise, too. You’ll also have the hoof-mounted VMUI, or vitals monitor and universal interface. First half of the name is obvious enough. The second refers to the device’s ability to interact with ship systems you’re cleared to use. You’ll find these with the frigate’s Captain,” the Admiral paused, sliding another sheet of paper over. “Here’s a list of all items with him. Bring everything on your first day. Any other questions?”

“Not for now.”

“Good. Now wait outside. In disguise. We’ll call you once our meeting has concluded.”

2: Home

The foyer echoed as the double doors of Twilight’s castle parted for the lone unicorn. Several nearby banners hanging from the tall ceilings fluttered, briefly drawing the pony’s attention to their minimalistic designs of trees and landscapes. “Spike!” Twilight called out, as the doors shut behind her, once again causing the decorative fabrics to stir. “I’m back!”

As her echoing voice faded, Twilight’s ears swivelled towards the source of approaching steps and headed towards them. Rounding a corner, she bumped face-first into the stomach of something definitely not a small dragon, and a tan-brown shirt quickly dominated her vision. With a muffled grunt, she pulled herself away and looked up.

The tall, bipedal being grinned down at the unicorn. “Hello, Twilight.”

“Mel!” Twilight jumped up in a blur, wrapping her hooves around the former Hiigaran Captain.

Chuckling, Melarn Soban returned the gesture. “I’ve missed you too. You’ve been busy, I take it?” he asked, pulling away.

“You have no idea.” Twilight rolled her eyes. Setting off in the direction of the castle’s library, she continued, “Day in, day out, nothing but reports of Turanic Raiders doing something or other, and it’s starting to get old. I just wish we could eliminate the problem once and for all. Am I—am I a bad pony for saying that?”

“Under any other circumstance, I’d probably say it’s out of character for you, but those guys are a slippery bunch. I remember they used to give my commanding officer fits when I was still Sobani!” Mel followed alongside, placing one of his hands inside a pocket of his jeans, while the other swung freely as he walked. “No matter how many times anyone in the galaxy tried to hunt them down, the Raiders would just emerge later in some new location. Of course, I’m guessing I don’t need to tell you about that.”

“Nope. I’ve gone through all known tactical reports multiple times. The most obvious conclusion I’ve come up with is that they owe much of their survival to some decentralised military hierarchy. But I’m sick of talking about Raiders all the time. These few days I have are meant to be my time off.”

“Got any plans then? I was thinking of staying in Ponyville for a week.”

“Eh, Rarity put the idea in my head to take a day at the spa. I figured I might as well, so I managed to work that into my schedule.” Twilight continued, levitating a rolled-up piece of parchment from one of her side bags and unfurling it in front of her friend.

Skimming over the timetable, Mel snorted. “Of course you of all ponies would have a schedule with oddly specific timings for meals and restroom usage between activities.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Can’t say I’ve ever run late though, can you?”

“What about the time you weren’t able to write a friendship repor—”

“Ah—we don’t talk about that!” Twilight quickly cut in. “You agreed not to mention it, if I agreed to never bring up your first reaction to cats.”

“Hey, you’d have reacted similarly if you landed on an alien planet and thought you saw a triikor cub!” Mel retorted defensively. “Okay, they’re not as fluffy as Rarity’s cat was, but still!”

“To this day, I still have mental images of giant Opals catching mice on a desert planet. Anyway, what are your plans? What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I can’t visit one of my closest friends without being interrogated? Twilight, I am hurt!” Mel placed his free hand over his heart and feigned shock. “No, I’ve still got plenty of ears in both Equestrian and Hiigaran navies. When I heard Aurora will be staying in orbit for a few days, and a shuttle with significant escorts would be coming down, I figured you’d be on it. Guess I was right.”

“Guess you were.” Twilight smiled, parting the doors to her library. “I assume you’ve seen Spike, then?”

“I haven’t, but Starlight mentioned he’ll be back in the evening. Something about running some errands.”

“Ah, so you finally met Starlight Glimmer then? After what? Two years?”

“Well, I wasn’t breaking and entering, if that’s what you were implying.”

“Ha-ha,” the unicorn replied flatly. Settling in on a sectional sofa near a window, she looked up at Mel. “So what do you think of her?”

“Honestly? I had to ask if you were long-lost sisters or something.” Mel dropped himself in the middle of the adjacent section, sinking into the cushions. Looking back, he saw Twilight raising an eyebrow. “What? Don’t look at me like that. You’re both purple, powerful unicorns, with remarkably similar mannerisms. She reminds me of you when we first met, actually. I think that sort of answers your question, doesn’t it?”

“Humph. Where is Starlight, anyway?”

As if on queue, a knock came from the open doors as Starlight entered. “Welcome back, Twilight! How was—”

“Stressful,” Twilight cut in, holding up a hoof. “Don’t want to talk about it though.”

“That bad, huh? Well, I’ve got something to cheer you up.” Starlight levitated a bundle of books over to Twilight. “I received those books you were looking for in the mail yesterday. Largest Kushan-La dictionary they had, too.”

“Kush—wait a minute.” Mel frowned, slightly confused. “Twilight, are you learning my language?”

“Umm … Mor.” Twilight nodded sheepishly.

Mel grinned from ear to ear. “This is amazing! How long have you been at it?”

“Khar okon ul see seevpay-da.”

“Ha!” Mel clapped slowly.

Starlight sat beside Mel. “Translation? I know two of those words had to have been ‘one year’.”

“One year and three weeks, word for word. Galactic Common derives much of its grammar from Kushan-La, given how influential the old Hiigaran empire used to be. Conveniently enough, that means it shouldn’t be a particularly difficult language to learn,” Mel replied, turning back to Twilight. “Though that still begs the question of how your planet developed with Common when you’ve supposedly never had any external contact prior to my arrival.”

Twilight scratched her head. “Hard to say. Recorded history doesn’t go back that far, I’m afraid. We may never know. Though I'm not sure if it's correct to call our language Common. Our vocabulary deviates slightly from true Common.”

“Eh, whatever.” Mel waved his hand in dismissal. “I’m more interested in your language skills right now. Okay, okay, what is”—he looked around the room, before finally pointing at a collection of chairs—“that over there?”

“Stuur. Or stuur-da if you wanted the plural.”

“How about … this room?”

“The library? Uhh, juukmaan.”

Mel pointed at the window. “The building across from your castle that wasn’t there when I was here a few months ago?”

“Glofka opat hiig. It’s my new friendship school. I’ll have to fill you in on what’s happened in Ponyville since the last time we met.”

“Hiig?” Starlight interrupted. “As in Hiigara?”

“Sort of. Hiigara is an old word made of two other words. ‘Hiig’, meaning ‘home’, and ‘ara’, meaning ‘world’. Homeworld is literally the name of our planet. In the context of ‘opat hiig’ however, the translation becomes ‘lesson home’,” Mel explained. “Alright, one more for you, Twilight. How many fingers am I holding up?” he raised both his hands, palms facing the Princess.

Beaming with pride, Twilight answered with confidence, “Vargaf. I’ll admit though, I haven’t had much time to learn more than the basics. I think I’ve got the grammar down, given how familiar it is, but my vocabulary and pronunciation are lacking.”

Mel shook his head. “Not at all. Your pronunciation isn’t too bad. You’ve just got a bit of a soft accent typical to one using Common as their main language. Aside from a few misplaced stresses, and forgetting to roll your Rs after a double vowel though, you seem to be picking it up nicely.”

“I’d ask you to be my tutor, but juggling my friendship duties with everything happening up there”—Twilight pointed up—“plus dealing with this new ship development leaves little time for anything else.”

“You need to set aside more time for yourself,” Starlight lectured. “I rarely see her these days, and when I do, she’s usually busy doing something work-related,” she explained to Mel.

Twilight sighed. “Making time for myself is easier said than done. I can’t just ignore everything going on around me. Look at what happened with the Storm King. Perfect example!”

“I feel so guilty for not being with you when that happened, Twilight.” Sighing, Mel looked at Twilight. “I’m sorry. Had I not been visiting the Crystal Empire—”

“Don’t be,” Twilight stopped Mel. “Let's be fair here. You wouldn’t have been able to stop it all by yourself anyway. You're good, but not that good.”

“Loving that vote of confidence there, Twi. Alright, fine, but that event was pretty much why I started concealing my old marine side-arm again. I may not fully understand magic and its power, but surprise and accuracy still counts for something where I’m from.”

“It might have been for the best. Despite everything, I’m glad I got a student out of it. Maybe you’ll meet her in two years as well.” Twilight grinned, looking over the cover of her new dictionary. Her expression changed after she placed the book down. “Still, there’s plenty of work ahead of us, and not enough time to do it in. To make matters worse, we’ve got to deal with having changelings serving in our Navy now. And not the nice kind, either.”

Mel hummed as he contemplated. “Are they the ones with the holes all over their bodies? Yeah, I can see why they’d be useful in certain roles. They’d make great spies. Plus, they’re good in close combat, aren’t they? More agile than a pegasus, right?”

“They are, but whose wise idea was it to let them serve? We’ve got … history.”

Mel shrugged. “Equestria never got along with the griffon kingdom before I fell from the skies. Look where the two nations are now.”

“That situation was a little different.”

“You expect it to be a disaster?”

Twilight considered the possibilities. “Worse than a dragon suffering from a growth spurt in space. Which is actually why dragons don’t serve. No, a rogue changeling could incite mutinies, or turn our assets against us. Imagine they take over just one super-capital ship! The amount of damage one could inflict on our nation from low orbit? It could be the end of Equestria as we know it!”

“I’m fairly certain the chances of that happening are next to none.”

“But not exactly none. We have to be prepared. That’s why we’re only letting in a few changelings for now. Still, even one is unnerving. Chrysalis likely sent her best to keep up appearances, so he would be the most dangerous of the lot.”

“What do your friends think about the situation?”

“I know Applejack hates them the most,” Twilight answered without hesitation. “They manipulate, lie, cheat, and steal in the worst ways imaginable, so she sees it as the ultimate form of dishonesty. An ‘affront to honesty ’, as she said. Rarity isn’t a fan of the emotional theft either. She finds them the most repulsive out of all of us, I think. Probably the whole insect thing. As for Rainbow Dash, she wants to quote ‘go for round two’. Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy are actually trying to look forward to some kind of reconciliation, though.”

“And you, Starlight?” Mel turned his head towards the second unicorn.

“Ooh, you’re really putting me in the spotlight here, aren’t you?” Starlight fidgeted. “Uhh, I can’t say I’d feel particularly comfortable around one of those kinds of changelings, but then again, I’ve heard how you’re always talking about how bad things are, Twilight. From the sounds of things, these changelings might be a necessary evil. Then again, perhaps the rest are like Thorax. We just need to get to know them better.”

Mel grew silent, as thoughts brewed in his mind. “Hold on, wasn’t Thorax one of those kinds of changelings as well, Twilight? I think you mentioned something about him turning into those colourful types, correct? The … friendly changelings?”

“Well yes, but that’s different. He was more of a defector. The others are still under Chrysalis’ rule. Willingly, I might add. In the aftermath of the changeling hive incident, the entire population had the choice to either stay with Thorax, or leave with Chrysalis.”

“I don’t think that necessarily makes them evil though.”

“They’re making an active decision to stick to a lifestyle involving tearing the emotional energy out of their victims,” Twilight argued. “How is that not evil?”

“I think I’d need to look into changelings as a species and civilisation a little more before I could agree or disagree with you. Not saying I don’t trust you, but based on my experience, evil for the sake of evil is uncommon. I think there’s more to this. Plus, I think it might be a little difficult to remain unbiased when you’ve been involved with several changeling incidents.”

“Me? I’m about as objective as ponies come!” Twilight insisted.

“Ehh,” Starlight started hesitantly. “You did kind of try to drive Trixie and I apart once, all because you held a grudge against her.”

“I could forgive the ursa incident, but she tried to enslave an entire town!” Twilight retorted.

“So did I. Successfully, too.”

Mel blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Long story,” Starlight muttered, looking down at the floor. “Not a particularly proud chapter in my life.”

“Never a dull moment in Equestria, it seems,” Mel quipped, earning a glare from both unicorns. “So anyway, you were saying something about ship development? Heard rumours of a new ship type, but Wraiths and Shirys are old news.”

“Likely the Amarok. Destroyer-class with permanent cloaking capabilities. Almost looks like one of those submarines you talked about once. Operates similarly too, now that I think about it, though the decks face the other way. No artificial gravity, so the nose is above you, and the engines are below. I'll give you details later. Right now though? I don’t know about you two, but I’ve just come from orbit with no food whatsoever.” Twilight got to her hooves. “Are either of you up for some dinner?”

Starlight followed suit. “I’ve been meaning to check out McGarron’s for a while now. You two want to give that place a try?”

Twilight was about to collect her books when she looked back at Starlight. “Isn’t that a pub?”

“It is, but I heard they make some amazing dishes. The ricotta gnocchi is apparently one of their specialities.”

“Alright, why not? Mel?”

Mel stood up. “Starlight had me at pub. I’m in.”

“Great! Let me just put these books away, and we’ll head out.”

3: Recruitment

A tall eucalyptus tree stood beside a sizeable rancher house, its leaves rustling in the gentle wind. At its base, a pair of teal-coated pegasi sat in its shade, their backs against the trunk and their hind legs crossed over. The identical twins simply relaxed, resting their fore-hooves atop their bellies. Every so often, they would swat away any flies that decided to crawl underneath their wide-brimmed hats, which shielded their faces from the intense sunlight shining through the leaves above.

“Shit, if it gets any hotter, the chooks’ll be layin’ hard-boiled eggs,” one commented, the slur of his strong accent apparent. Removing his hat, he fanned himself in an attempt to dry his short, chocolate-brown mane.

“Bloody oath. Sunbutt could dial it back a bit!” the other yelled into the sky. Though the pair were virtually indistinguishable, the one who spoke first wore a brown slouch hat with a khaki puggaree. The other one’s hat had a similarly wide brim, though decorated with a thinner barkcloth band, and a single blue opal on one side. “Kinda wish we bought that inflatable pool now. Oi Swift, pass us another beer, will ya?”

Rummaging through the icy cooler beside him, Swift retrieved a pair of bottles. He gave one’s cap a well-practised flick of his hoof underneath, allowing the trapped gas to escape with a quick hiss as the cap flipped and landed in the yellowing grass around them. Placing the bottle down beside him, he repeated the action with the second one, passing it over and accidentally tilting the bottle, causing a few drops to splatter onto the second twin.

“Swift, ya knob-head!”

“Get stuffed, Shift, ya little filly. Drink your medicine.”

“Cheers, big ears.”

“Same goes, big nose.”

With a clink of their bottles, they each drained a third of the liquid before tipping their hats down once more and basking in the light. After a few minutes, the sound of a clearing throat caught their attention, and the pair looked up from beneath their hats to find two uniformed stallions looming over them. “Can I help you fellas?” the twins spoke in unison. Glancing quickly at each other, they looked up again at the newcomers.

“Good afternoon. I’m Commander Quasar,” the officer introduced himself. Gesturing towards the olive-drab stallion beside him, he continued, “And this is Lieutenant Commander Eclipse. I take it the two of you are Shift and Swift?”

“Yeah?” Shift raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“We’ve travelled here to discuss a unique job opportunity we believe you have the necessary skills to fulfil,” Eclipse explained, as he wiped the sweat under his short silver fringe. Adjusting his peaked cap, he added, “This isn’t a bad time, is it?”

“Nah mate, it’s all good,” Shift replied.

“Job opportunity, eh? And you came all this way out here just to see us?” Swift emptied the remainder of his bottle and stood, beckoning the officers into the house. “This oughta be interesting. Oh, ’scuse the smell. Place was bug-bombed a few hours ago, but I think we’ve let it air out long enough now.”

The pegasus twins remained silent as the two officers finished explaining their offer. In unison, the brothers periodically tapped the sides of their pint glasses, mulling the proposition over in their minds. With their hats removed, the officers would not have been able to identify the two, as even their cutie marks depicting a compass in the foreground of a southern cross constellation were identical. Barely visible underneath an uneven tuft of fur however, was a scar across Swift’s left hoof.

“Mate, what we’re still not getting here is why you wanted us specifically,” Shift started. “Yeah, righty, we were royal guards for a coupl’a years, and we were decent sharpshooters when those fancy weapons entered service. Sure, there’s some experience, but we resigned after our minimum service period was up. Far as I’m aware, there’s nothing noteworthy on our records.” Pausing for an unrestrained belch that caused the officers to lean away, Shift added, “Heh, nothing positive anyway.”

“And now,” Swift continued. “Now, if we’ve understood you correctly, Commander, you want us. A pair of unremarkable ex-guards. To join some—some special forces group in the Equestrian Navy?”

“Ehh, I think we both know you’re more than a pair of ‘unremarkable ex-guards’,” Quasar replied. “Ever since you two had your little outback incident, a few of us have had our eyes on you. However, only recently did we have an opening for the aforementioned position your talents would suit perfectly.”

Swift frowned. “Incident? You talking about when Shift and I almost got mauled while camping?”

“That’s the one. Nopony survives a drop-bear attack. Nopony. Then to hear about two pegasi not only surviving the ordeal, but escaping with nothing but a single scratch?” Quasar pointed to Swift’s leg. “After doing some investigating, we had to admit we were rather impressed, though more than a little nauseated with how the beast was … subdued.”

“I did dislocate a wing at one point, but yeah, I couldn’t just let something get away with harming my little brother now, could I?” Swift grinned, placing a hoof around Shift.

“Little?” Shift shrugged his brother off. “Piss off. Not my fault the Docs yanked you out first when they cut mum open.”

“Well whatever the case, the fact that despite everything, you managed to survive with all your supplies and equipment lost must have taken some skill,” the other officer interrupted. Pausing, he straightened out one of his sleeves, which mirrored the stripes on Quasar’s, save for a thinner third one. Eyeing the pegasi, he emphasised, “A skill we need.”

“What, you expect us to go camping a lot in this line of work?” Shift returned his focus to the officers.

“Perhaps at some point, though your agility, resourcefulness, and quick thinking is mostly what we’re after. While we’ve explained your primary duties, having your skill set may prove invaluable for some more unique scenarios you may encounter,” Quasar clarified. After a quick glance at his watch, he rose. “Well, we’ve taken up enough of your time. We’ll let you two think things over. You have my card, so should you accept, we can skip most of the joining formalities and place you both on an accelerated training course, before assigning you to the Infiltrator squad.”

“Alrighty fellas, we’ll consider the offer”—Shift read the contact card in front of him—“You should have our answer within the week.”

The officers bid farewell and promptly vacated the premises, returning to the pegasus chariot waiting outside in the blistering heat.

4: Inspection

“Well, that was interesting,” Quasar commented, finding the pegasus attached to the front of his chariot completely covered in flies. “Bit of an odd pair, mind you. Then again, we are in Murrumbatemare, assuming I pronounced that correctly. Small towns always have the strangest folk.”

Eclipse continually swatted at the relentless flies refusing to leave the chariot. “You think they will accept?”

“I hope so, Eclipse. You and I know just how bad things are getting in the galaxy.”

Eclipse hummed, unsure what to say. After the carriage took off, he spoke up again, “Now then, anypony else you think we need to visit?”

“Nopony else, though I have a certain zebra in mind. Goes by Shadow.” Quasar produced a file with the zebra’s photo in the corner and passed it over. While Eclipse skimmed through the contents, Quasar busied himself with another file.

Eclipse studied the hardened expression of Shadow. “That’s an uncommon name for a zebra.”

“I think it’s more of a code name, than anything else. Her birth certificate says her name is Mokèlé Mbèmbé. Classified information, by the way. Means ‘the one who stops the flow of rivers’, or something like that. From what I’ve heard, both her names are equally fitting.”

“Interesting. So you two know each other, then?”

“Not exactly. I witnessed eight ponies attempting to mug her in Manehattan a few years back. By the time I crossed the street to intervene, all of her assailants were motionless on the ground. They were admitted to hospital with skull fractures, broken ribs and serious internal bleeding. One never walked again. Another now speaks with a high-pitched voice and by some definitions, is no longer considered a male.”

“I—uhh, wow.”

“Just thinking back to that day makes my jewels want to retract as far as—”

“I do not need that mental image, sir!” Eclipse shouted. Ignoring his superior’s cackle, he looked down at the file still in his hooves, noticing a detail he had missed on the first page. “Wait, Lieutenant Commander Shadow? She’s with the Navy already?”

“Originally, no. I later found out she was an LC in the Nightcasters, before applying for transfer.”

“I’m sorry, Nightcasters? I am unfamiliar with that, uhh … branch?”

“Not surprised. They’re rather secretive. Nopony knows what they do, what conflicts they’re involved in, or who they even report to. Honestly, I’m surprised a zebra is—or rather, was part of the Nightcasters. I heard they were exclusively unicorns. Shows what rumours are worth, eh?”

Eclipse hummed, returning to the file. “Speaking of unicorns, what about our final Infiltrator? You have your eye on anypony in particular?”

“Not sure yet. Supposed to be some FNG, so I’ve had a few suggestions from instructors observing several batches of promising recruits. Some have impressive capabilities, apparently. Assuming I don’t find another better suited to the role”—Quasar shrugged—“I’ll just pick the top performer.”

“That’s a rather broad term. What’s your criteria? Spell versatility?”

Quasar shook his head. “Spells can be learned. I’m looking for somepony with spell endurance first, and potency second. Given the assumption that any unicorn in the Navy would know a standard set of spells, versatility will come last.”

“Rapid-fire spells do tend to find more use than single, powerful blasts,” Eclipse commented. “Makes sense to me.”

“I should have the decision made in a few days. Now then, I don’t suppose you’re free after our final errand?”

“Depends. Anything you need?”

“Oh no, I don’t need anything. You still haven’t been aboard our new ship yet, have you?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Better get a good feel for her before she does the real thing,” Quasar advised. “Some techs from Aurora plan on reviewing Amarok’s hardware data later tonight. I’d be happy to get you a seat on their crew transport if you want.”

“Hmm, I had a couple of things to take care of, but they can wait. Sure, I’ll take it. Been meaning to have a look around for a while now, but it seems like other pressing matters just get in the way. Hay, I still have some personal effects to remove from our old ship.”

“You still have things on Swarm? Sounds like your schedule is more backed-up than mine. Right, I’ll send a message to the crew station and let them know to expect you.”

The crew transport came to a halt beside Amarok, as the pilot fine-tuned the tiny vessel’s position. While its occupants gathered their gear, a bright blue ray of light seemed to melt into the cabin and expand. As it stabilised, Eclipse watched as the rest of the technicians and engineers disappeared into the light. Following suit, he paused when he realised he still felt his own weight.

“Pilot, where are we?” he called back towards the forward section of the transport.

“I’m not sure I understand, sir,” a hesitant voice replied. “We’re underneath Amarok.”

“No, that I’m aware of. Why do I still feel partial weight, though? Amarok has no artificial gravity, so are we accelerating?”

“Negative. Amarok is positioned radially and essentially hovering at altitude to simulate point five G. RADALT reports our position to be a little over two-five-hundred klicks from the surface.”

“I see. Thank you for the clarification. As you were.” Gathering his side-bags, Eclipse proceeded to step through the light, his eyes briefly dazzled by bright blue. As his vision cleared, he found himself in a short tunnel, wide enough to comfortably fit three ponies. Ahead, a ramp allowed the newcomers to descend the meter or two to the floor, landing just short of a hexagonal pressure door to one of the ship’s standard wedge-shaped compartments.

Watching the crew disperse, Eclipse remained at the tunnel, eyeing a technician who hovered her VMUI against a reader built into the compartment’s external double doors. A green light above turned red, and several clicks sounded internally, before the doors swung out, pivoting on thick hinges, and revealing an identical pair of inner pressure doors that swung into the compartment as they parted.

Descending the ramp, the Lieutenant Commander could see into a room lined with wood-finished shelves along its walls. At the far end where the walls converged, were three tables in a U-shaped layout, and nine harnessed seats bordering them. Eclipse was familiar with the reinforced seats; the standard design across the fleet seated crew upright, with an adjustable recline from hoofrest-integrated touchscreens. During high G manoeuvres, the built-in five-point harnesses would automatically adjust for the correct species.

Recalling his schematic diagrams, Eclipse figured the compartment was the library, that doubled up as a briefing room when required. He did not have time to analyse the rest of the compartment’s interior, as the inner and outer pressure doors started to close. As the four doors moved, he spied large yellow text on the inner surface of the outer doors, which read ‘BPS MUST BE WORN BEYOND THIS POINT ABOVE SITUATION DELTA’.

As the slate-grey doors sealed, and the red light returned to green, Eclipse looked down, only just realising the uniqueness of the flooring. Instead of standard metal plating found on most ships, the deck had misshapen, yet perfectly tessellating polygonal patterns, ranging in colour from night-blue to teal, and covered in a clear, glossy layer. Pawing the smooth floor, he could still feel his mag boots adhering to the surface he could almost see his reflection in, though the sound of contact had been comparable to hooves on stone. Looking up at the ceiling, the pattern was similar, though there were distinct patterns resembling access panels.

Another detail missed were the two seats flanking the tunnel’s ramp. While the core design of the seats resembled those in the library, these sat on vertical rings, with five monitors mounted horizontally. The entire assembly attached to a rotating base, allowing a more dynamic adaptation to G forces during critical operations.

Continuing with his inspection of the vessel, Eclipse followed the outer edge of the deck, finding a cylindrical column between the library and the next compartment. A small corridor extended radially toward the centre of the deck between the compartments, where another technician busied himself by an exposed panel at the end of the corridor. Though Eclipse was too far to see anything in detail, he knew the centre of the deck merely contained electrical distribution systems, and pipes for water, sewerage, fire suppression, air, and pure oxygen, that would extend through most decks.

The next compartment was the medical bay. Though the officer was not well versed in medical armamentaria, he could tell the facility could cope with anything a ground-based medical centre might deal with. A full-body scanner, operating theatre, and lab could be seen at the far end. Life-support, infusion pumps, IV stands and medical monitors stood within the eight individual patient rooms that bordered the walls. Four ringed seats occupied the rest of the medical bay at the centre, and to no surprise, Eclipse spied harnesses on all beds and gurneys.

Impressed with the sheer density of equipment and technology, he moved on, passing another elevator between the medical bay, and the galley compartment. Two long tables, each seating thirteen, took up most of the galley’s floor space. Between the tables’ furthest edges stood a buffet station, divided into many sections for various dishes. Further still was a cooking station, with six stoves, four ovens, two fridges and two freezers.

Eclipse was stumped when he entered the armoury and supply compartment. A tiny room around the inner pressure doors offered little in the way of manoeuvrability, as a large metal and glass barrier prevented further entry. Sighting a fluorescent green unicorn at one of four ringed seats on the other side of the barrier, Eclipse knocked.

Peeking under the monitors, the unicorn teleported beside Eclipse and offered her salutations. “Commander. Apologies, I had no idea you were coming today.”

“At ease. I was just taking a tour of the vessel. How do I—”

“—Get inside?” the unicorn finished. “You don’t. Unless you can figure out a way to teleport without the luxury of a horn, the only way you’re getting in here is if a unicorn takes you. Sir.”

“Security measure?”

“Affirm. Short of a unicorn mutiny, anything that tries to take over this ship will have a hard time getting our weapons and gear. Did you want me to show you around?”

“That won’t be necessary. Shelving and large storage spaces all the way, isn’t it? As you were.”

Nodding, the unicorn teleported back to the other side and returned to her seat, while Eclipse continued circumnavigating the deck. The next compartment over was the brig, housing three cells at the end. Two standard seats and three ringed seats spread across the room, allowing guards to maintain distance and watch any prisoners from multiple angles.

Finding nothing remarkable, Eclipse finished off the deck inspection with the gym. A pair of wind tunnels hidden behind a barrier at the end each provided just enough space for a pegasus to spread their wings. Four treadmills lined the left wall, while four barbell stations were found by the right. Five standard seats faced the compartment entrance, lining the back of the wind tunnel barrier, and a sparring ring took up the remaining space between them and the entrance.

As Eclipse exited once more, he made his way to the nearest elevator. Swiping his VMUI against the reader next to the door, he waited, passing the time by inspecting the hull itself. Taking a closer look, he put his hoof up against the solid, curved armour, feeling the subtle woven texture. The dense weave consisted of black material in one direction, dark green in another, and dark grey in between. With the pattern making him cross-eyed, Eclipsed backed away, in time for the elevator doors to open.

Entering, the officer paused, remembering the numbering system for the decks started from top to bottom. The elevator indicated ‘DECK 04: MESS, MEDICAL, SUPPLY, BRIG’ as its current position. Running a hoof down the fifteen decks, he selected the lowest deck. A message appeared on the screen beside the doors as they closed:

DESTINATION: DECK 12: ENGINEERING
CHANGE AT DECK 12 FOR INNER ELEVATORS TO DECKS 13 TO 15

Shortly after, Eclipse felt himself being pulled down, with his mag boots keeping him rooted to the floor during the rapid descent. His white peaked cap however, started to float away, and Eclipse had to quickly retrieve it before it flew out of reach. As he approached his destination, he felt heavier as the elevator came to a stop. Straightening out his mane and adjusting his cap, the screen read the destination as the doors opened.

Stepping out, he looked up at the distant ceiling, guessing it was about thirty metres away. Taking up most of the deck were the port and starboard fusion reactor clusters, as well as the dorsal and ventral hyperdrives, all of which spanned the entire height of the deck. Without compartments with which to conceal them, the central pipes and conduits emerging from the ceiling continued throughout the vessel exposed, either splitting near the tops of the drives, or continuing through to the deck below.

It was evident the reactors extended below the deck, as Eclipse knew each cluster appeared as a stack of five toroidal sections, despite merely three and a half being visible. The hyperdrives fit perfectly along the height of the deck, protected inside transparent cylindrical columns, though the current lighting was insufficient to make out more than simple silhouettes of the drives.

Sighting one of the four inner elevators that led to the last few decks, Eclipse passed a trio of ringed seats. An officer hidden beneath a shaggy blue mane occupied the closest one. Her uniform mirrored Eclipse’s, though only a single stripe adorned her sleeves. The officer glanced up at Eclipse and returned her focus back to the screens in front of her, before performing a double-take.

“Eclipse? Is—is that—HA”—the lilac earth pony practically leapt out of her seat and crushed Eclipse in a hug, sending his cap flying once more—“I can’t believe you’re here!”

“Sierra?” Eclipse wheezed. “No way, you’re an Ensign now?”

“Wha—oh this?” Sierra backed off and looked at her uniform. “Yeah, turns out somepony thought I had ‘wasted potential’ and suggested I’d be more useful as a deck officer, so I made a deal. I’d agree to the extra work and pay, but I’d want to retain my role as the chief engineer.”

“I would have agreed about the wasted potential as well, actually. I take it you had a good graduation then? All I got on mine was a novelty mug with a horrible space-related pun. ‘Escape velocity: You can’t leave home without it!’” Eclipse waved his hoof dramatically in an arc.

“I did, yes,” Sierra giggled. “And hey, the pun could have been worse. So I see you’re wandering around aimlessly. Soaking in this work of technological and mechanical art, I assume? What do you think so far?”

“It’s … impressive.” Eclipse looked around again at the nearby clusters of fusion reactors. “Not what I’d have expected from a warship. Everything is so … clean. Pristine. Not at all like the Hiigaran designs we’ve been using, where you can see every little rivet and—I mean look at the hull. Look at this floor! Look at it! It’s all seamless! How?”

“One of the first things I noticed as well.” Sierra returned to her seat, quickly tapping on one of the touch-screens built into the hoofrests. “All that blue and green stuff is just a bunch of specially grown crystals from the Crystal Empire. They’re shattered for easier transport, and bonded to one another with some good old-fashioned magic. For the particular structural application it’s designed for, this construction method is more effective, as not even PDAs can replicate the intricate crystalline structure. So, after a quick polish and a coat of epoxy, you’ve got … well, this.”

“What about the hull?”

“That weave is just a thermal and electromagnetic absorption coating. It’s on the exterior as well. You know, for better stealth capabilities. Between the two coatings though, you have your usual mix of ablative, power, crystal-polymer and ceramic-composite armour. At least six metres thick in the centre and aft sections, and at least four metres thick in the fore.”

Eclipse grinned. “Sounds like somepony’s been studying.”

“Oh I know every detail there is to know about this ship. Total uncompressed volume of fire suppression agents, minimum duration of oxygen if reclamation systems fail, total volume of the swimming pool, minimum yield of torped—”

“We have a pool?” Eclipse shouted, his eyebrows disappearing under his mane as he became dangerously wide-eyed. “Are those the two giant tub structures between the engine ducts I saw on deck fourteen’s schematics?”

“Yup, they’re the ones! Hey, tell you what, let me just finish saving this data I’m working on for those Aurora grease monkeys, and I’ll give you the grand tour. Be a good chance to catch up as well.”

5: Training

Hello Void,

I figured I’d update you on what’s happening on my end, though I’m uncertain whether this letter will actually make it back home in the first place. The post office’s supervisor said only one mailmare was willing to take a letter anywhere near our home, but the cross-eyed pegasus’ navigational skills seemed dubious at best. I was assured otherwise, however … Shortly before the pegasus flew through a billboard like it was cheap toilet paper.

I’ve only been here a few days, and I can say without doubt that basic training—or what passes for it amongst ponies anyway—is one of the more irritating experiences of my buzzing life. The recruits are obnoxious; your stereotypical, overconfident types I’ve found comparable to gym rats. Already two of them were involved in a brawl over something or other. Don’t know why, don’t really care. One of our drill instructors gave them an earful, which was admittedly entertaining to watch.

Regardless, our instructors Ballast and Cutlass are absolute cretins. Surprise, surprise, one has already taken to calling me Roach. I’m going to take a wild guess and conclude based on the lack of creativity, his insults to other recruits must have been taken from some generic drill instructor’s manual. Still, none of the other recruits understand why I’ve been named as such, given the instructors are the few aware of my identity. To the others, I’m some random pegasus with a slight pectoralis muscle deficiency; a story I had to come up with to explain why my wing-ups were so poor during PT. Still, wiping the floor with ponies on pretty much anything else filled me with great satisfaction, so I guess you were right when we had our conversation.

You should have been here when I had my initial medical examination though. As soon as the first physician looked at my file and read what was written beside ‘Species’, I had to fight to keep a straight face when he started sweating up a storm. Dentist straight up refused to get anywhere near me, and just marked me off as healthy. The immunologist gave up with the vaccinations after breaking her fourth needle, and simply accepted the vaccination records I brought from home, which she initially dismissed. I suppose I could have told her where we take our injections, but this seemed more amusing.

You’ve already seen the GCU I showed you when I got back from Aurora. I didn’t realise this at first, but the fabric has illusory enchantments that swap between urban, woodland, desert and aerial camouflage patterns. It’s a far cry from how we blend in of course, so I’m not too impressed with it. Our side bags were also issued, pre-loaded with individual first aid kits, survival kits, and navigation aids. Later on, we also received our thinner back pack and vest combos, containing a water bladder, and rations, along with ammunition pouches and explosives underneath.

As a side note, even the royal guards use some variation of this pack. I now understand why they always had such weak spots on their backs. The armour worn above it all needed to be thin enough, so the pack would not bulge and stand out.

I’ll admit, for a changeling not used to wearing anything other than armour and blades, I definitely need to work on my wing strength. You’d have been the star of the show with your wings around here, though.

Speaking of armour, the ones worn under our GCUs and BPSes are odd. Some thin, flexible material incorporated into the linings, but little else. I think they called it a gold silk, or something. Apparently it’s effective against energy fire such as plasma strikes, and even magic. Kinetic protection, however? Not so much. I get the idea of remaining mobile, but I prefer to stick to my own armour. Call me old-fashioned. Or perhaps I’m biased, since our Queen had it custom-made as a farewell present. Either way, I know what I’ll be using once I’ve finished training. If any officers have a problem, I’ll just disguise myself to look like I’m wearing what they want me to wear. Unless they perform a thorough physical inspection, they won’t tell the difference.

Managed to knock out a couple of theoretical assessments already. Basic military structure, chain of command for the thirteen different ranks, some drill theory and military tradition. It’s run rather differently compared to our own forces, but there’s still some familiarity to it.

I suspect half the things here will be a humiliating waste of time for one of the Queen’s personal guard, but if this is what She wishes of me, so be it. Still, I miss home, being this far away from my kind. If you’ve got the time to write back, please do. I suspect it will be the only feeling of normalcy in this foreign environment.

Obsidian

P.S. Considering I’ve used ultraviolet ink here, I think you’ve already figured out you can ignore everything I wrote in black ink on the other side of this paper. They like to read and censor outgoing mail. Keep that in mind with any replies you send.

Void,

Apologies for the delayed response. Ballast took away all our letter privileges for a week due to some lazy Recruit refusing to get out of bed. “Let the drill instructor come, I don’t care,” the waste of space kept saying. Well he did, and the barracks turned into a shouting arena, with insults flying about. Again. “Why is this useless sack of protoplasm still in my bed?”, “You’ve got five seconds to get your flank up, before I dump you into the lake,” etcetera, etcetera. He actually went through with it though. When he didn’t get up, Ballast blasted a foghorn in the pegasus’ face, then dragged him all the way to the lake by his tail.

He got leeches in places you don’t even want to know about.

Afterwards, Ballast announced our punishment due to the pony’s actions and threatened worse for the next offence. I’m not sure if that punishment was worth watching the pony freak out, but as far as entertainment goes, that has been the most hilarious thing I’ve seen here thus far.

In other news, our standard weapons were issued recently. All the unicorns, diamond dogs and griffons were given pulsar rifles. Theirs were named Lamaat Rokn 68, or LR-68. Apparently it means Light Gun if translated literally from the Hiigaran language. I guess I got interested with the technology. Boxy, triple-barrelled firearms that are essentially portable particle accelerators. They seem to suffer from overheating if fired faster than twice per second or so, however.

The rest of us were provided with a hoof-mounted carbine variant. These shorter weapons were LR-48s. Not as powerful as 68s, but the recoil is not as bad, even with triple the firing rate. Regardless of which pulsar was used, they’re certainly easier to hit moving targets with, compared to spells. This was especially so, when combined with the heads-up-display integrated into our helmet visors. I think the technical term was ‘combat and navigation scanners’, or CNS.

As you can tell, they love their abbreviations here.

Still, for all the additional training I received at the firing range, my accuracy was semi-decent at best. Was irritating to say the least, and it certainly earned me a few petty insults from Ballast. Despite that, we all got some time to fire the LR-98s as well. Elongated. Single barrel. Drains the energy canister in one shot, but buzz me, whatever it hit just … vaporised and exploded, all at the same time.

While we had our fun, I noticed a few diamond dogs on the range holding some larger equipment by their sides, which I later found out were plasma bomb launchers. Haarniska San J8, or Armour Seeker, though the instructors just referred to the HS-J8s as ‘Jait’s. Just like the 98s, the J8s made for some spectacular light shows, though in their own special ways.

One of the Recruits somehow managed to destroy his 68 earlier on. From what I could tell, he did not follow instructions correctly when reassembling it after a field strip, so when he loaded the energy canister and attempted to fire downrange, the canister popped. It didn’t explode in any remarkable fashion. It just … popped. Ruined the internal components of the rifle with it. Cutlass then slapped the Recruit on his back, congratulating him on a new academy record for the shortest rifle lifespan. I’m not sure what academy he was talking about, though. If that was some sort of reference, it’s lost on me.

Ballast ended up redeeming himself with his lack of creativity, however. During a drill session, another unicorn continually mixed up orders, and Ballast finally had enough after the idiot mistook his left for his right when we were ordered to turn on the spot. The conversation went word for word like this:

“Recruit, do you have a problem differentiating between your left and your right?”

“Sir, no sir!”

“Then you mind telling me why you are facing the opposite direction?”

“Sir, I wasn’t thinking, sir!”

“You weren’t thinking? Tell me, Recruit, are you always this stupid, or do you have to work at it?”

“Sir, no sir!”

“No, what? No, you’re not always stupid, or no, you don’t have to work to be that stupid?”

“Sir?”

At this point, we were all instructed to stand at attention for the next half hour, while Ballast went off on his own. He returned with an object he threw at the unicorn, explaining he made a cloak and completely covered it with moss, claiming it would replenish the oxygen the unicorn had stolen from others. He is to nurture it and wear it permanently until further notice.

Still got a week to go before moving on to advanced training. Some final PT test, a few survival lessons I’ll probably end up teaching the instructors more things about, and at some point obtaining the Navy’s formal white and blue service uniform. You can add NSU to the ever-growing abbreviation list while you’re reading this.

Will need to come up with a new unicorn persona by the end of basic, though. Advanced will involve courses on a wide range of spells from many fields of magic I’ll need to be present for. Would draw too much attention as a pegasus in a class full of unicorns. Not so sure I’ll perform so well with anything other than illusion magic, though.

I’ll send you my new contact details as soon as I have them. Bye for now.

Obsidian

Void,

Well, advanced training is certainly different to basic. Seems to be a more mature environment, but I still can’t help being uncomfortable around all these ponies. For some reason, I imagine this is what my shipboard life will feel like, except without the luxury of disguises. The closer that day comes, the more I think this whole collaboration thing is a bad idea. What else can I do, though? I’m hoping I can just keep my distance, and not have to worry too much about ponies being ponies.

Except if I ever have to rely on them to keep me alive. From what I’ve seen so far, I’m not exactly filled with confidence. Not a comforting thought in the slightest.

After the end of the first week here in advanced, I’ve already had to binge through several assessments. Ship classification and identification for all major galactic powers, associated subsystems, basic space warfare tactics, shipboard safety and emergency procedures, and two of four basic assessments for infiltration operations. With everything else expected of me, it’s a miracle I’ve had enough time to revise. Makes me wonder if this ‘accelerated training course’ is designed to make me fail and humiliate changelings. If it is, I’m certainly not giving them the satisfaction.

Still, at least the topics are more interesting than ‘Recruit, Deckhoof and Specialist are your junior enlisted ranks, followed by Petty Officer and Chief Petty Officer NCOs’. That, or constantly having to listen to another Recruit being berated for trigger discipline on the firing range.

Almost lost my disguise during one of the sessions on magic. The instructor was pushing us as far as we could go with channelling energy through our horns, and I just had to be the one who performed the worst. Of course, they weren’t aware I was already putting energy in to keeping a buzzing disguise up. Whatever the case, I know my illusion had to have flickered when I tried a little too hard to get to every other unicorn’s level. Good thing I was at the back of the group where I wasn’t seen. Not that I was forbidden to roam the place without a disguise or anything, but I just want to avoid the unnecessary drama.

I still have no solid information on who my squad-mates will be. These ‘Infiltrator’ teams are supposedly six-member parties, yet I haven’t come across another potential Infiltrator in training yet. Perhaps it’s because I’m on the accelerated course, but I’m sure I would have seen or heard something from others in different courses. I wonder if I should impersonate one of the staff and look through some files. I may or may not already be doing that for fun and out of curiosity during my free time. Perhaps some additional reconnaissance wouldn’t hurt.

Anyway, I’ll have to keep this letter short. Ended up writing this out of boredom while my laundry was drying. I’m hoping the next week will have a few interesting stories to tell. High-G training will have us all in a centrifuge, and from what I’ve heard, things tend to get messy there.

Give our Queen my regards,

Obsidian

Void,

It’s done. I am now a fully qualified member of the Equestrian Navy, for what that’s worth. Will keep this letter brief, as I’ll be heading home in the next couple of days anyway. Will have a few days to myself before I have to return to Canterlot and ship out to the orbital crew station. I guess I’ll have to describe the flight into orbit for you when the time comes, won’t I?

My attempts to look through files yielded no useful answers about other Infiltrators. Looks like I’ll just have to wait and see who I’ll be with. I wonder if the Navy has multiple training bases. It crossed my mind that perhaps each nation has its own places to train crew, but considering the multicultural batches of Recruits, it seems unlikely. I guess I could ask one of the instructors, but I prefer to keep my contact with others to a minimum, for obvious reasons. I’m sure a couple of griffons around here could help, though.

Regarding your question about ‘what things go pew-pew on the battleships’, I think I’d need to write an essay to properly cover weapon systems on capital ships. One frigate, or ‘frig’ variant has rapid-fire flak cannons, which seem to be most effective on small fighters. Some have torpedoes for anti-corvette or frigate operations. Then you have the ion cannons; basically giant LRs that can maintain a beam for several seconds. Larger ships typically have a combination of these, but none match your description of ‘pew-pew’.

Actually, perhaps the pulsar cannon point defence weapons mounted on some larger destroyer and super-capital-class ships come close. Now that I think about it, those are probably best described as giant LRs, rather than the ion cannons, since they fire a single flash of light, rather than a beam. None of the super-capital-class ships were referred to as battleships, however. Battlecruiser would be the closest term, I believe. Something about design philosophy, I think it was. A battleship would have the firepower and armour, but a battlecruiser would have speed at the expense of armour and some firepower.

I can fill you in on the all the different ships when I get back. I should be able to swipe a few images of them from a book or something. In the meantime, I’ll just need to focus on avoiding this one Recruit who seems to think I’d make a good friend for him. Got stuck with the damn pegasus in some team activity and now he’s following me around like a duckling with an imprint gone horribly wrong. Even invited me to some group to play those ridiculous role-playing games with the dice.

Whatever. I’ll see you soon.

Obsidian

6: Day One

Obsidian shuffled down the aisle of a large interplanetary shuttle moored at the edge of Canterlot, not too far from where he and Chrysalis had boarded the royal frigate. Based on his brief observation of the elongated, oblong ship as he boarded, the shuttle must have been a kilometre in length, with capacity for several thousand passengers, plus cargo. Additionally, Obsidian counted five squads of fighter craft queued for docking at the shuttle’s hangar.

Reaching his designated seat, he stowed his bags in an overhead compartment and settled in. Despite still using his brown pegasus disguise, he grew uncomfortable, essentially stuck in a massive transport where the majority of the passengers were Equestrian. The more he dwelled on the thought, the more uneasy he felt, as he played out different scenarios of his future life in his head.

Distracting himself, he tested the features of the large, seat integrated touch-screen ahead of him, cycling between different cameras mounted to the ship’s hull, and a map displaying the progress of their journey. As he did so, he heard a voice through speakers across the vessel.

“Good afternoon, Captain Aneroid speaking, with an update on our preparations to the orbital crew station. We’re almost ready to go here, finalising the paperwork before closing the last cargo hatch. Once we’re under way, our departure will initially take us in a northerly direction in accordance with noise abatement procedures, before performing a full burn into low orbit. As soon as we clear the upper atmosphere, I’ll get back to you with any updates to our arrival time, which for now should be approximately five-five minutes from our scheduled time of departure. In the meantime, I expect you to carry out any orders given by the cabin crew.”

After a brief period of silence, a second voice made another announcement over the speakers. “All ground staff requested to disembark. All ground staff to disembark. Cabin crew to safety demonstration positions.”

Several cabin crew in NSUs made their way through the aisles, positioning themselves at regular intervals across the ship. Facing their passengers, the second voice continued to speak, outlining the vessel’s various safety aspects, while the rest of the cabin crew demonstrated the appropriate actions in time to the announcement. Upon mention of a safety card in the seat pocket, Obsidian retrieved the laminated sheet. Outlined were graphical summaries of actions in various emergencies, along with locations of lifeboats across the four decks.

After the demonstration ended, Obsidian could see activity around the ship via the external cameras. The enclosed, telescopic gangways attached to the port side of the vessel retracted into the nearby building, and he felt a brief shudder as the couplings securing the vessel disengaged. Small thrusters fired from the same side in short bursts, nudging the shuttle away from its berth. With sufficient distance, the vessel changed course and departed the city, gradually gaining altitude.

While the changeling watched the landscape pass by on his screen, a mass of light-blue mane cascaded down the back of the seat from the unicorn in front, blocking the screen. Leaning forward, Obsidian tapped the mare. “Hey. You mind not spilling your mane over your seat?”

“Bite me, chocolate face.”

Without a word, Obsidian leaned back into his seat. A pegasus seated beside him stifled a laugh, though he ceased immediately when the changeling pulled out a knife from the underside of his wing. The pegasus watched in shock as Obsidian gently placed a screen’s width of the oblivious owner’s mane against the seat and sliced it away, letting the severed strands fall to the floor. Giving the knife a quick clean on both sides, he sheathed it, and returned his attention to the screen, comically bordered by the unicorn’s mane.

A notable whine built up in the cabin as the shuttle pitched up. Despite the near vertical attitude, the vessel’s artificial gravity still simulated weight through its vertical axis, while inertial dampeners made acceleration almost imperceptible.

Obsidian would not have noticed the acceleration, had he not seen the main engines at full burn from the rear camera. He watched as the ground dropped from view. Canterlot was barely visible against the side of the mountain, partially hidden under a small lenticular cloud. As it grew distant, layers of clouds appeared and fell away, from an alto-stratus outlining a warm front, to higher cirro-cumulus clouds with their distinctive mackerel scale texture. Eventually, Obsidian started to recognise the larger landmass, and selected the side cameras when he realised just how high the shuttle must have been.

The curvature of the planet was immediately apparent, as the horizon crept away from the centre of the screen. As the shuttle continued to gain altitude, it became easier to see the thin blue skin of gas around the monumental ball of blue, green, and white. Further up, the stars became clearer, joined by those that would not be visible on ground. Switching to the forward camera, he could easily make out the band of indistinguishable stars in the direction of the galactic centre.

Obsidian stared in awe at the sights before him for the remainder of the journey. During the final minutes, he could see white strobes flashing every few seconds against various parts of a structure that quickly grew to fill the screen. As the shuttle slowed and adjusted its heading, the crew station slid out of view momentarily, before appearing directly in front of the vessel once more.

Resembling an upside-down spinning top, or tractricoid, the changeling noted three distinct, vertical layers. The eight-sided structure in the middle had the largest radius, with suppression cannons mounted above and below each corner. Three stacked structures formed the top section; the progressively smaller modules similar in appearance to flying saucers of fiction, connected via a central core and three external supports. The station’s lower structure seemed comparable to a tapering prism, its cross-section a triangle with concave sides. Pole-like sensors of various lengths jutted out asymmetrically from the three sides, with steady red beacons at their extremities.

A large entrance took up an entire side on the octagonal section. Its size was apparent when a departing battlecruiser came into view, less than half the width of the gaping maw. Proceeding further down the bright path, a cavern of densely packed ships at numerous docks were found. The interior was brimming with activity, as many small utility ships moved about, making way for the approaching shuttle.

Obsidian paid no attention to the Captain’s arrival announcement, instead completely entranced by the camera feed. Eventually, the shuttle slowed to a crawl and moved sideways into its assigned berth, where the station’s couplings extended and secured the vessel in place. Taking this as a sign of their arrival, the shuttle’s passengers gathered their belongings.

Disembarking from the nearest exit a few minutes later, Obsidian pulled out a letter containing instructions on where to drop his bags. Deciding it was time he stopped with the facade, he entered a nearby bathroom and stared at his reflection in the large mirror above the sinks. Darting his eyes around, he took a deep breath before enveloping himself in green fire, shedding his disguise, and finding his true self staring back at him.

Exhaling, he made his way back out, more convinced than ever that everything thus far had been a rapid succession of bad ideas.

A crowd of one hundred and twenty-seven crew awaited the arrival of the officers in charge of their first assignment since the successful completion of Amarok’s field tests. The eager group of ponies, griffons and zebras, each in their NSUs, chatted away on the transport boarding deck of the orbital crew station.

In the centre of the room, the pegasus brothers Swift and Shift appeared to be attracting the most attention, telling jokes to many of the other crew. Several diamond dogs towered above the crowd, merely observing, or listening to the surrounding chatter.

Seated in one corner was Glare, weighed down by the bitter-sweet feeling of both passing her training, and being singled out for her specialised role; a lucrative role she wished she could have declined. Dejected, the unicorn fiddled idly with the simple blue band that matched her NSU, tying her mane together.

The chatter of the crew died down, upon the arrival of a peculiar figure. Noticing the sudden silence, Glare looked up as well, assuming the officers had arrived, and released her mane to fall near her left hoof. Instead, she saw something with a pitch-black coat shining in the light, and transparent night-blue wings matching its tail. Even from her distance, she could easily make out the fangs, razor-sharp horn and trademark holes littered across the body of a changeling.

Obsidian stared back at the crowd, surveying the room with expressionless eyes. Without uttering a word, he moved past the crew, all of whom parted as if the fanged menace carried some sort of disease. As he neared the end of the crowd, the changeling’s ears twitched upon hearing somepony to his left spit. Reacting instantly with an almost imperceptible flick of his wing, the crew gasped as the glob intended for the changeling had been returned to its sender.

As silent as ever, Obsidian resumed unimpeded through the crowd, placing his back against the least-lit corner of the room. He remained there at attention, unblinking and motionless, leaving the phlegm thrower to frantically clean out his eye while the scattered whispers of others met his ears. Some of curiosity, some of unease, but mostly of hatred or repulsion.

Only a few metres away, Glare was among the few who appeared mostly curious. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a pink pegasus approaching, practically strutting towards the changeling with his chest puffed out.

“Wow, the Navy must be desperate. Since when did they let your kind anywhere near us? I thought bugs were—”

“Keep talking if you want your throat torn out,” Obsidian snarled, baring his fangs.

In an instant, the pegasus appeared to deflate. Catching a glimpse of the higher-ranking changeling’s insignia—an anchor surrounded by a wreath topped with Celestia’s crown—the pegasus refrained from additional comments, backing away towards the rest of the crowd. Shortly after, sixteen officers finally arrived, oblivious to the events that had transpired. After falling in, Commander Quasar addressed his crew.

“Right, for those who have forgotten, I am Commander Quasar, Captain of Equestria’s newest creation; the stealth destroyer Amarok. Together, we will spend the coming months trialling new operational procedures claimed to improve the overall effectiveness of our Navy. Now you are all certified to operate on this unique vessel, so I expect nothing short of perfection. Each of your files indicates your fellow crew-mates excel at what they do. Therefore, I will hold the performance of all to a high standard.”

Quasar’s speech continued, covering a broad range of topics, from the vessel’s standing orders, to the specifics of several aforementioned trials.

“—currently at situation delta. However, our status will change shortly after all crew have embarked, so switch to your BPSes as soon as you’ve settled in. On another note, I’m sure you’ve all noticed the diversity of your fellow crew-mates. The news has been circulating for the past five or six months after all. Command has deemed it necessary to introduce members of additional nations into our crew complement, believing it would improve operational efficiency with fewer crew. Coming with us will be twelve diamond dogs, sixteen zebras, and a changeling. I respect Command’s decision, therefore I expect you all to do the same. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir,” the crew replied in unison, their collective voices echoing in the room.

“Good. Crew transports will be ready shortly. Officers, I will see you in the transport at gate one. Engineering crew, proceed to gates two and three. Ops, Infiltrators and weapons to gates four, five, and six. Nav, comms, and medical, gate seven. Deck and supply, eight and nine. Dismissed.”

“Destroyer Amarok, crew transport charlie-four inbound one-zero klicks off your starboard. Request docking clearance.”

“Charlie-four, cleared to dock. Caution, automatic guidance system is offline. We’re still bringing non-essential systems up. You’ll need to make a ventral approach manually.”

“Willco Amarok, charlie-four.”

As Obsidian listened to the transport’s pilot, he prepared for the arrival at his new home. Though mildly annoyed at being squeezed into the corner by several crew in the crowded passenger cabin, he derived some satisfaction from the ability to sense the extreme discomfort of ponies surrounding him. Noticing a particularly fearful unicorn watching him out of the corner of her eyes, Obsidian resisted the urge to snap his jaws at her, or to make clicking noises somehow associated with his species.

Having lost track of the radio transmissions, Obsidian saw a bright light at the end of the vessel. Upon receiving the all-clear from the pilot, the passengers filed out. Eclipse waited on the other side to greet the crew and direct them to their respective quarters. For a moment, Obsidian paid no attention to the officer, as he took in his surroundings. The air smelled surprisingly crisp. Moreso than the shuttle, crew station, or crew transport. The temperature was however slightly cold, if the shivers of a couple of unicorns were any indication.

“—on decks seven, eight, and nine. Any remaining officers will find their quarters on decks six and ten. The letters you received prior to your arrival from the crew station will indicate the deck and quarters of your assigned bed. Remember, there’s an elevator located between each compartment on this deck. Don’t crowd around one, or we’ll be here for a while.”

Obsidian followed four others to an elevator, as he pulled out his letter and read the contents. Assigned bunk … eight-two-six. So deck eight, quarters two, bed six. Sliding the letter back into one of his pockets, he looked up. The ponies gathered around the elevator had left, opting to take the next elevator over, and occasionally turning their heads back to keep an eye on the changeling. Rolling his eyes, he entered the elevator alone and selected the eighth deck.

As soon as the doors closed, Obsidian felt himself lighten as the elevator sped down, and activated his mag boots before floating off the ground. Just as soon as he did, the elevator slowed, and a great weight pressed down on him before coming to a halt at his deck. Heading out, Obsidian took a guess and moved across the deck in an anti-clockwise direction. Passing one compartment, he spied a large number ‘1’ printed on the face of the external pressure doors. Opposite to the doors were three ringed seats against the hull.

Arriving at the next compartment, the changeling found a door labelled ‘2’. Protruding from the hull opposite to the compartment was a large structure with closed sliding doors. A frangible seal connected the doors, and a large tag on the seal read ‘DANGER: LIFE BOAT. ACCESS PERMITTED ONLY IN EMERGENCIES OR MAINTENANCE’. Recalling the life boats in his studies, he remembered they doubled up as Amarok’s manoeuvring thrusters during normal operations. Turning back toward the doors to his quarters, he swiped his hoof against the reader and stood back when the light above turned red. When the outer and inner doors opened wide enough, he proceeded through.

Five beds lined the left and right walls, each with a pair of wood-finished drawers beneath them. A pillow lied upon on each mattress at one end, while a large screen mounted at the opposite end on the metal partitions between the beds. Against the compartment’s wall near the pillows were control panels. On most mattresses, the assigned crew members’ belongings had been placed, secured with the beds’ harnesses. Two earth ponies were busy rummaging through their bags, when they looked toward the newcomer. Yelping in unison, they dived onto their respective mattresses, reaching up and slamming down shutters mounted at the outer edge above their beds.

Really? Obsidian frowned, waiting for any additional movement or sound from the second and third bunks on the left side of the room. Each shutter slid up a small crack, and he could see a single eye staring from within both. Really?

With an annoyed flick of his tail, he resumed his inspection of the quarters. In the centre was a ten-sided table. A single ceiling spotlight illuminated it, and part of the surrounding area. Above the beds were significantly dimmer night lights, providing just enough light to navigate around the otherwise dark area. At the opposite end of the quarters was a sliding door. A quick peek inside revealed a bathroom.

Turning back toward bed six, the closest bed to the bathroom on the right side of the quarters, Obsidian found his belongings and probed around, until he was satisfied all items were accounted for. Though he wasn’t paying much attention, he could easily hear the whispers of the other two crew, along with a few choice words comparing him to insects. They were both cut off when the pressure doors opened, and the sound of three new sets of hoofsteps followed.

“You two. Out!” a familiar voice shouted. The other crew emerged slightly, their heads now out from their beds, and looked quizzically at the newcomers. “Are you deaf? Out!”

Obsidian turned around, just as the two ponies left in a hurry. He immediately recognised the blonde-maned, white unicorn who spat on him earlier, and the arrogant pegasus, though he was not familiar with the red pegasus who glared daggers at him.

“Figured I’d drop by and say hello to my new neighbour,” the unicorn spoke, his eyes scanning the changeling from bottom to top. “So, how’d a little cockroach like you get aboard, huh?”

Watching the three advance slowly, Obsidian could see the two pegasi moving to approach from the sides. The move was clearly threatening, and an obvious attempt to flank him. Without replying, Obsidian backed slowly toward the corner between his bed and the bathroom.

“See, you and I appeared to have had a little issue before,” the unicorn continued, “And I figured it was only right to make things … even. I would greatly appreciate an apology, both for myself, and for threatening to mutilate my friend over here. Oh, and my other friend might have something to say about your kind injuring his uncle during your failure of an invasion.”

Taking Obsidian’s movements as a sign of weakness, the three closed in. With his escape blocked, and his options limited by his position, the changeling had nowhere to go.

“The quiet type, eh? Alright”—the unicorn lit up his horn, a malicious grin forming on his face—“let’s hear how bugs squeal.”

In a sudden burst, Obsidian shot out his wings, propelling himself towards the unicorn with a buck against the wall. His left hoof made contact with the pony’s neck under the jaw, flipping the stunned unicorn backwards as the two soared through the air. Taking advantage of his agility, Obsidian used his wings and the pony’s neck to swing around, twisting himself and bucking the ceiling to slam the first pegasus into the ground. Grabbing the pegasus’ tail, Obsidian swung him overhead at the unicorn, crashing into him just as he hit the ground by the table. Before either could recover, Obsidian followed, slamming into both from above.

An eerie silence fell as Obsidian got to his hooves and turned his head slowly towards the red pegasus, who had been frozen in place during the five-second confrontation. Calmly approaching the trembling pony, his empty eyes pierced the pegasus’, and his voice lowered to a growl. “Your friends had a sparring session and were both injured after a miscalculated move.”

“Wh—what?”

“Your story. If asked what happened to your friends, you will tell them this. Or explain how your friends initiated an unprovoked attack on a superior, suffered an embarrassing defeat, and be hauled off to the brig. I don’t care. I’d prefer not to waste my time recounting the events to one of the officers in my free time, though.”

The unicorn behind Obsidian shouted, attempting to lunge at him. A one-legged buck to the pony’s chest knocked the wind out of him. After a bored glance at the coughing and wheezing heap on the ground, Obsidian faced the pegasus once more. “I’m going to explore the ship. Clean yourselves up and get out. And if I find anything out of place when I return”—Obsidian leaned further in—“remember that you’re the one trapped on this vessel with me.”

Exiting his quarters, he found the two earth ponies, plus several other crew staring at him.

“The buzz you all looking at?”

Figuring he had time to spare, Obsidian decided to visit each deck. The five decks with quarters had been simply that; six wedge-shaped compartments per deck for quarters, and some seats outside. Bordering the hull on every visited deck was a ring housing cargo containers, most measured perfectly to fit inside an elevator. A few of the larger containers suggested unicorn intervention would be required.

Taking the elevator yet again, the screen read ‘DECK 11: COMMAND, SUBSYSTEMS’. The height of the deck was almost three times that of the quarters, accommodating the odd devices and contraptions with barely a metre of clearance from the ceiling. At the centre of the deck stood the command centre, though with its pressure doors sealed, Obsidian had no idea what was inside.

Surrounding the command centre were six identical devices, facing out in a radial arrangement. Each had a main cylindrical body, with a conical recession at each end. Six thick prongs protruded from the sides, alternating in direction. Based on a serial number plate secured to the nearest device, Obsidian quickly realised these were the devices that gave Amarok the stealth destroyer classification, reading ‘CLK GEN’ on the metal surface.

Between and outboard of the two port and starboard-most cloak generators, two larger devices gave off a faint, high-pitched hum. These too, had cylindrical main bodies, though aligned perpendicular to the deck, with four large pipes emerging from their sides and curving down toward the floor. Hovering above the ground, Obsidian sighted something inside the main body, with an additional cylindrical structure and thick find extending out. Flying closer to the device, he felt resistance, and found he could not get his hoof to bridge the last few centimetres to the device’s surface. Looking around, he read the serial number plate, which identified the device as ‘HYP INHIB’.

Closer to the hull at four points in clusters of three, Obsidian found the last of the distinct subsystems of the deck. Each device had a squared housing and transparent domes. While identical, the devices in each cluster aligned to one of the three axes of the ship. Approaching the nearest one, he pressed his face against the dome, sighting a triple-gimballed gyroscope rotating lazily within. This time, the ‘CMG/INS’ abbreviation on the plates did little to identify their purpose.

Ignoring the stares from other crew on the deck, he flew past one of two larger sealed compartments, and found it inaccessible. Shrugging, he assumed the repair drone storage compartment was a place he lacked the clearance to access, and decided to continue exploring other decks.

Having returned to the fourth deck after exploring engineering, an empty deck, the pools, and the aft sensor decks, Obsidian could see the last of the crew had just finished transferring aboard. Eclipse was still directing the newcomers, however he was also attending to five others who had split off from the group and remained behind. When Obsidian made eye contact with the officer from across the deck, Eclipse beckoned him over.

“Perfect,” Eclipse began. “I had hoped you would all be on the same transport, so I wouldn’t have to round you all up, but this is also convenient. I’m sorry I can’t stay, but I’m needed in the CC. However, I’ll let you six get better acquainted.” Picking up the pace, he took off for an elevator that had just arrived nearby, and pressed a button for the relevant deck within. “Oh and don’t stay too long,” Eclipse quickly added, as the doors started closing. “You’ll need to be in your BPSes in the next forty-five minutes.”

An awkward silence followed, as the six turned their heads back toward each other.

Shift spoke first. “I take it we’re all Infiltrators here, then?”

The diamond dog made an affirmative grunt. The zebra nodded silently. Obsidian did not respond at all, and silence fell once more.

“Yes, Shift. Yes we are,” Swift broke the silence. “All silent, and brooding, and mysterious we are!”

The unicorn spoke next. “I’m—I’m Glare. And yes. Unfortunately, I’m an Infiltrator.”

“Well, well, somepony else who talks! Name’s Swift. This little knob-head here is my brother Shift—”

“Call me little one more time, Swift!” the irate pegasus snapped.

“—who apparently takes more offence to being the younger brother, than he does to being called a knob-head. So then, why’s being an Infiltrator unfortunate? Awesome pay, get to kick some alien flank, what’s not to love?”

“If it’s all the same to you, that’s private,” Glare mumbled, sniffing. “Excuse me, I have to go now.”

“Great”—Swift watched as the unicorn’s tail disappeared around the corner—“Our squad is made up of one emo, three mutes, and a knob-head. Not exactly the elite spies I was hoping we’d be.”

Shift poked his brother’s side. “What about yourself? Who are you meant to be, then?”

“I’m the attractive one, obviously!”

“We’re identical twins, Swift!”

“Hey, I got something you don’t!” Swift held his hoof up in a mock-feminine fashion. “Mares love scars!”

Shift gestured towards his brother. “This is who I live with,” he explained to the two others in front of him. “Hey—wait, where did the changeling go?”

Having slipped past the group and away from the meaningless conversation, Obsidian continued his quick exploration of the vessel. Alighting after the elevator read out ‘DECK 03: TORPEDO ROOM, LOWER’, he marvelled at the sight before him. Nineteen massive torpedoes standing upright, with their warheads pointed straight up and barely a gap between them.

The changeling couldn’t help but whistle. “Wonder how big those things are,” he said to himself.

“Eighty metres length, fifteen metres diameter, ’n’ a whole heap o’ kaboom!” a voice with a heavy accent called out from somewhere in the torpedo forest. Soon after, a griffon’s head poked out around a torpedo’s nozzle. He froze when he sighted the changeling.

Aaaaand here we go again.

“So yer th’ changelin’,” the griffon stated.

“Congratulations on the functioning eyes.” Obsidian dead-panned, his own eyes growing sore at how many times they’d been rolled.

“Hah! Well I’d celebrate, but single malt’s considered ‘contraband’.” The unusually bulky griffon came into full view and stopped in front of the changeling. He extended a fist. “Name’s Claymore.”

Hesitating, Obsidian bumped the fist and replied, “Obsidian. Let me guess. You’re from the highlands?”

Claymore grinned. “What gave it away? Th’ accent?”

“That, and they don’t exactly make griffons as large as you in the Griffon Kingdom mainland. You were saying about the torpedoes?”

“Hmm? Ahh, aye. Type D, Mark Ones. Largest torpedoes in active service. One can vaporise a frig or cripple a destroyer beyond field repairs.”

“Assuming our targets don’t see a massive torpedo and shoot it down.”

“Well o’ course! That’s how come they got ninety-second cloaks on ’em. This is a stealth destroyer fer a reason. Though there’s a wee catch. Th’ warhead in a D is highly compressed plasma in a powerful containment field, so guidance systems are destabilised if installed. When we fire a D, they’re on intercept vectors.”

Obsidian frowned, finding it increasingly difficult to decipher the griffon’s responses. After asking Claymore to repeat himself, he continued, “That much plasma in such a small space seems unsafe. What happens if incoming fire ruptures a warhead?”

“Absolutely nothin’! The torpedoes are just hee haw shells. Only once they’re in a tube d’ they get filled wi’ plasma from th’ reactors via magnetic transfer. O’ course, ah suppose there’s a few seconds where some risk is the noo, but who said th’ job was safe, eh?”

“Uhh, right. So, given we’re on the third deck, I assume that means we’ve got more torpedoes on the first two decks as well? Nineteen seems like a small number for a ship designed for extended operations.”

“Aye, th’ deck ’boon has another nineteen, and th’ yin ’boon has nineteen more, if ye include th’ ones in th’ six torpedo tubes. There’s also two rear tubes fir three torpedoes atween th’ pools, so that makes sixty. Though technically, th’ foremost deck isn’t deck one. It's deck zero, where th’ front sensors are. Did ye ever see th’ original sensor design, afore th’ last-minute change? They keeked like tits hanging from th’ ceiling. ”

“Uh huh …”

“Actually, nah. They were half-spheres smooshed together, so th’ middle line looks like th’ crack o’ a bahookie.”

Obsidian raised a hoof. “Okay, I get it! Don’t get all excited on me.” Inspecting his VMUI, he seized an opportunity to slip away. “Oh, is that the time? I need to get into my BPS.” Without waiting for a reply, he took off and made a beeline for the nearest elevator. Rushing in, he made his way back down to his quarters. Buzz me, what a weirdo. His conversation with Void quickly flashed across his mind.

Find the silver lining and meet a cute little griffon or something.

Obsidian audibly shuddered at the thought. ‘Cute’ and ‘little’ were two words he would never associate with highlander griffons.

7: Drills

“Well, that was a fun little introduction we all had,” Shift remarked, after the other Infiltrators left. “I can see we’re all gonna get along juuuuust fine.”

Swift shrugged. “I dunno, the zebra seemed alright to me. At least she held a conversation for a while. What’s the story with the diamond dog though? It’s like he was refusing to speak or something.”

“Dunno. Wonder if the officers know something,” Shift pondered, before dismissing the thought. “Righty, we’ve got some free time now, yeah? Wanna check out the pool?”

“Shit yeah I do!” Swift loudly proclaimed, and followed his brother to the elevator.

Stepping out on the fourteenth deck, the pair found themselves alone. Ahead of them by the hull, they could see a small part of the starboard aft sensor dome protruding from the floor. One ringed and four standard seats lied just ahead, in a single row.

Turning around, the pegasi found one of the two pools, nestled between the starboard elevators and engine duct, and the aft torpedo tubes. “Aww, yeah, that’s what I’m talking about!” Shift shouted. “Eight by fifty metres of awesomeness!”

Swift looked up at the ceiling, just above the pool’s edge. Extending partially down were sliding doors, presumably to seal the pool area off and contain the water during ship manoeuvres. Moving closer to the water’s edge, he peered over. “Well, slap my flank and call me a cragodile, that looks deep.”

“If you insist, Sir cragodile …”

“If I wha—AAAAH!” Swift yelped, toppling over the edge and sending a splash of water onto Shift. “Shift, ya bloody ratbag!” he yelled as he surfaced. In a flash, he pulled his brother in from his collar before Shift had time to react.

After a few minutes of wrestling, the pair ended up floating on their backs at the pool’s edge. Using their wings, they propelled themselves lightly through the water, occasionally dipping below the surface.

“Y’know what?” Shift called out. “I can get used to this. Beats the royal guard any day.”

“No contest. And we’re getting paid to—” Swift suddenly went quiet, his ears pointed towards one of the elevators, as he heard approaching steps. He turned to his brother and whispered, “Hey, somepony’s coming. You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Get my head checked if I’m not,” Shift snickered.

In unison, the twins took deep breaths and dived, swimming effortlessly through the water towards the source of the sound. As they neared the edge of the pool, they could see the blurry outline of a griffon. Turning to each other, the pegasi gave mischievous grins, then shot straight up, breaching the surface with a loud scream beside their victim.

The griffon made no reaction. “Nice try guys.”

Shift pouted. “Aww, you’re no fun.”

“You guys know I could see you, right?”

“Nope. Guess we do now.” Swift shrugged, extending a dripping hoof. “How ya doin’ mate? Name’s Swift.”

“Shift,” the other pegasus replied, mimicking the gesture.

The griffon bumped both hooves simultaneously. “Syzygy,” he replied. “Syz for short.”

“Look at that multitasking right there!” Swift exclaimed.

“Heh, you gotta have it if you’re one of the ship’s cooks.”

“Ahh, the on-board potato peeler, eh?”

“I prefer Specialist spud scrubber, just for the alliteration, but yeah, close enough.” Pausing, the griffon glanced between the pegasi. “So uhh, what exactly are you two doing?”

“Guessing the same thing you are. Checking out the ship.”

Syz raised an eyebrow at the pair. “And taking a swim in your NSUs?”

“Yeah, you can blame Shift for that.” Swift climbed out of the pool and wrung the loose parts of his uniform out. He then proceeded to shake more water off like a dog.

Shift followed suit. “Yep, guilty as charged.”

Syzygy watched in amusement as the pair sent water everywhere. “So did I hear right when you said you were in the royal guard?”

“Damn, you got some good hearing there, mate.”

“I mean, you two talk rather loudly. What was it like with the royal guard then?”

“Well, we never got a chance to ogle Celestia’s flank up close, if that’s what you’re wondering”—Swift made a crude gesture with his hooves at the relevant body part—“since the other guards kept pulling rank to get that bloody assignment.”

“Ha! Wouldn’t blame them,” the other pegasus laughed.

“Heh. I guess you royal guard types would have been more chill off-duty than your public images tended to show, huh?”

“You kidding? The royal guards were some of the most boring hard-flanks you’d ever work with. Hay, that’s why we got out. Pay was decent, but that was it.”

“We probably didn’t think things through though. We hadn’t exactly secured any job afterwards, so we kinda lived off renting our house out to this dodgy bloke for a few months while we flew to a nearby camp site. I guess that technically made us homeless, but we needed the beer money. Was the one thing we couldn’t make ourselves.”

Syz frowned. “Wait, I’m confused. So, you guys had a home, but chose not to live in it to make rent money?”

“Beer money,” Swift corrected. “Never underestimate a good amber fluid. But yeah, that’s the short version. Honestly though? That house was just a convenience, and a place for our mail to go to. Ain’t nothing we couldn’t build with our two hooves for survival. And, y’know, grass is kinda everywhere if you need it.”

“Was also kinda fun, y’know? Watching something come together, bit by bit,” Shift continued. “Coupl’a hours, and we’d have a wooden framework lashed with vines for a decently sized hut, all made from resources in our environment. Even built a stone axe and everything to get the job done.”

“What sucked was building up the walls though. Layers upon layers of mud and stone. I mean, bucking hay, the stench while it was drying out was horrible. Still, I think we did a good job. Put all them tent campers to shame! We had to re-build the roof though, since water kept coming through when it rained.”

Shift smacked the side of his brother with a wing. “Yeah? Which drongo’s idea was it to use leaves that wilted away, huh?”

“How was I supposed to know it would take so long to build that kiln for firing clay tiles?”

“Regardless, you don’t use—”

“This is the Captain. Attention crew at stations, situation bravo,” Quasar’s voice suddenly sounded across the deck. “Hyperspace jump in two-zero minutes.”

“Bugger me, we need to grab our pressure suits!” Shift looked up at the nearest speaker, before he and his brother headed off in a hurry, leaving twin trails of water behind them. “Catch you later Syz!”

The starboard pressure door closed, as Eclipse entered the command centre in his BPS. Surveying the tight interior, he found all ops crew seated already, illuminated by the screens on their ringed seats, and the compartment’s dim blue lighting. Most of the screens displayed with varying combinations of digital gauges, graphs, sensor readouts, logs, and status updates, depending on the viewer’s role.

Serving as the helm ahead of him were two seats back-to-back. Two Specialists sat there, their left sleeves depicting a pair of anchors crossed at the shanks as a sign of their rank. A light green earth mare sat at the port-facing seat, running through the primary control checklists to a cream yellow unicorn stallion at the other helm’s station. He interacted with his controls as the mare read each line, ensuring all engineering and navigational systems pertaining to propulsion and manoeuvrability were within acceptable tolerances.

Surrounding the helm’s stations were four additional seats. The ones nearest to Eclipse had ‘WEP’ or ‘XO’ printed at their bases, while the furthest two displayed ‘NAV’ and ‘DCK/ENG’. Built into the walls were several stowages, labelled ‘Operations Manuals’, ‘Emergency Equipment’, ‘Checklists’, ‘Technical Logbooks’, ‘Maintenance Release’, and many more. A ladder to either side of the helm’s stations led to a second floor, with four more seats.

Seated at the weapon officer’s station was an electric-blue unicorn. The Lieutenant stood out with a scabbard worn by his left, housing a sword of his namesake. The sheathed weapon’s sapphire hilt gave off a dim glow, barely visible against his uniform. Eclipse had heard stories about Arc Sabre, mainly for the weapon he insisted on carrying at all times.

Interacting with his systems, Sabre paused. He looked up, as a holographic projection appeared above the helm’s stations. A parallelogram symbol represented Amarok, and a trajectory line adjusted its heading as the officer made changes from his seat. The line persisted as he switched between short and long range views. Satisfied, the Lieutenant tapped several times on his controls, and the projection disappeared.

Another Lieutenant sat at the navigation station. The officer hid behind a large, unfolded galactic map that was so wide, it was held open by her wings. Occasionally, the pale pink feathers would twitch and re-adjust, and a hoof would pull down the top edge to reveal a set of blue eyes that jumped between the map and her screens.

Ensign Sierra busied herself at her station. The chief engineer inspected a massive array of circuit breakers on the wall behind her seat. Looking back and forth between the breakers and her screens, she pulled a few breakers out, then returned them to their original positions a few seconds later.

Climbing a ladder, Eclipse found four more seats, and a lavatory above. A dark-coated griffon wearing a Chief Petty Officer’s emblem sat at the station labelled ‘SEC’, cycling through the ship’s internal cameras. Eclipse stared far too long at a patch of the griffon’s head with a significant amount of feathers missing, and the two made eye contact.

Eclipse quickly nodded. “Chief.”

“Commander,” the griffon replied, nodding back.

Commander Quasar waited at his seat with a thermal flask of coffee. He was about to acknowledge Eclipse, when the orange unicorn at the adjacent station marked ‘SNS/CMM’ completed his checklists and leaned over to speak with the Captain. Receiving a nod from the officer, the Specialist slid down the ladder and left the command centre with mild urgency.

Quasar returned his attention to Eclipse. “Took you long enough.” Before Eclipse could reply, he raised a hoof. “Relax, we’ve got a bit of a delay. Ensign Sierra mentioned something about a sluggish response from one of the torpedo tubes the crew are having a look at.”

Eclipse looked down at Sierra’s station and raised his voice. “Anything serious?”

Looking up, Sierra shrugged. “I doubt it. In my experience, it’s usually just a sensor that needs cleaning. My bet is on the crew before us. The ones responsible for the field tests, that is. They might have been doing some extensive tests on the tubes, but whatever the case, it shouldn’t be more than a few minutes. Anything longer and I’ll head up myself to check it out.”

An audible blip came from the vacated seat beside Quasar. Briefly leaning over, the Captain brought up the respective page on his own screen and read the contents of an incoming message. Examining the contents, he commented, “This should be fun.”

Eclipse looked over at the Captain, keeping his curiosity in check. “Sir?”

“One moment,” Quasar replied, reading the message once more.

NAVAL COMMAND
ADM. FOXTROT
VERIFICATION 6A2FC9
9632.17814594215 GSY

Live-fire drills confirmed. Objectives are as follows:

Proceed to Great Wastelands sector AFF-437, sub-sector F629, BBD4, 1210
Locate and destroy three frigate-class target drones patrolling around a stationary crate
Infiltrate crate and retrieve data recorder
Deliver data recorder to Kupaart Rozt

Drills will be considered a failure if any of the following occurs:

Any drone detects Amarok on their sensors
Time between first and last destroyed drones exceeds 10 seconds
Crate is damaged

After double-checking the important information, the Captain spoke up. “Ensign Sierra, what is the status of the hyperspace drives? We’ll need to go on a little field trip.”

“One moment. Just have to clear these warnings first,” Sierra replied, tapping on one of her control interfaces. “Drive systems green and idle, sir. I’ve sent the order to engineering, and they report the drives will be ready in … two-zero minutes.”

Down on the engineering deck, the two hyperspace drives hummed to life. The columns the drives resided in lit up, revealing their contents. Each comprised of a vertical shaft, with five shielding dishes extending radially at intervals. Between the dishes were three trefoil knots, with the shaft running through the middle gap of each. The knots appeared to hover, separated from the shaft and dishes by powerful magnetic forces. As the humming intensified, straining to move the immensely dense devices, the shafts were the first to begin rotating, followed shortly by the knots in an asynchronous manner.

“Lieutenant Azimuth, plot a course into the hyperspace targeting system with the coordinates I just sent to your station,” Quasar ordered, before reaching for the ship’s intercom. A droning tone resounded across the ship, as Quasar made his announcement. “This is the Captain. Attention crew at stations, situation bravo. Hyperspace jump in two-zero minutes.”

While the command centre crew waited, others proceeded to their own stations, ensuring all systems were combat ready. Sensors crew at auxiliary stations ran test sweeps on every device within the sensor arrays. Engineering and subsystems crew monitored stress tests on the fusion reactor clusters, control moment gyros, cloak generators, and hyperspace inhibitors. Utilities crew inspected electrical, oxygen and fire suppression systems, and performed diagnostics on Amarok’s internal sensors. Security and damage control teams moved to their assigned positions and ensured all pressure doors were sealed once preparations had been completed. The command centre’s own doors sealed as the orange unicorn galloped back in and returned to his station.

A soft beep alerted Sierra to an internal message. Quickly reading it, she spoke up once more. “Captain, engineering reports hyperspace drives charged. We’re just waiting for the last deck to report in before we—” Sierra looked back at a screen displaying a schematic of Amarok, as the final red coloured area turned green with a beep. “Yup, ship is secured. Ready to de-pressurise on your order.”

“Do it.”

As soon as Sierra initiated the relevant procedure, valves across the vessel opened, and large volumes of air hissed in and out of different openings from the ceilings. Feeling her pressure suit expand slightly, she monitored the progress of the ship-wide depressurisation. “Stage one complete. Non-critical sections steady at zero decimal three-five standard atmosphere. Humidifiers compensating.”

The hissing ceased at various locations across the ship, with additional valves opening for air to circulate from elsewhere. A higher-pitched, whistling hiss screamed throughout the ship as the second half of the procedure finished. When the system stabilised, Sierra announced, “Stage two complete. Non-critical sections set to zero decimal eight percent oxygen. Critical sections at zero atmosphere. Depressurisation complete.”

“Thank you, Ensign. Lieutenant Azimuth?”

“Hyperspace coordinates locked in, and a straight-run course has been plotted. Ready on your mark.”

“Ensign Sierra, initiate hyperspace.”

Discharging the immense energy built up in the hyperspace drives, a faint blue aura enveloped the devices, while a similarly coloured hyperspace window opened ahead of the destroyer. As the drives pulled the window across the ship’s length, Amarok appeared to be swallowed whole. The window continued moving past Amarok’s aft-most point, before collapsing upon itself, from a flat square, to a line, and finally a single point, before disappearing entirely.

“Initial jump procedures complete. The quantum waveform is stable,” Sierra announced. “Hull is holding, no warnings, no cautions. All systems running in their designated tolerances.”

Quasar nodded to himself. “Lieutenant Azimuth, what’s our ETA?”

“Approximately niner decimal three hours, sir,” the mare replied.

“Right”—Quasar pulled out a book and opened it to a bookmarked page—“If anypony needs to use the lav, now’s the time.”

While one of the crew rose to use the lavatory, Sierra switched a screen of hers over to one of Amarok’s many external cameras. Flipping through the different cameras, she finally settled on one mounted slightly forward of the infiltration tunnel. “Fancy a look, anypony?”

A couple of the crew gathered around Sierra’s screens to observe the journey through hyperspace. They watched as incoming blue, flame-like wisps parted for the ship, or danced across the hull, scattering upon impact. Around them, the stretched passage of stars, nebulae, and clusters were visible, with incoming light subjected to lensing. The sight was unusual. To the junior crew, almost surreal. Despite travelling at speeds much faster than light, the visible passage of these celestial bodies made their journey seem slow, like the view of the land out of a pegasus chariot flying at high altitudes.

Having returned to their stations, the command centre’s crew fell silent, switching between external cameras and monitoring the systems of their respective stations. Every so often, the occasional small talk would break out amongst adjacent crew, however most preferred to watch the natural artwork unfold outside, between rounds of routine duties instead. As Amarok drew closer to its destination, Sierra ordered the subsystems crew to activate the cloak generators, while Azimuth updated the Captain, who in turn issued the order for battle stations over the intercom.

“This is the Captain. Attention crew at stations, situation alpha. Exiting hyperspace in five minutes.”

An invisible shock-wave around the hyperspace drives dissipated the auras that had surrounded them during their faster-than-light journey. As the drives bled their rotational speed within seconds, the released energy interrupted the quantum waveform that maintained their presence in hyperspace and commenced the opening of the exit coordinate window. Ejecting the vessel at their destination, the crew felt weightlessness in their seats.

“Ensign Sierra, Lieutenant Azimuth,” Commander Quasar spoke up. “Systems report.”

“Hyperspace jump successful, and drives powering down to idle,” Sierra announced. “Engineering reports no abnormalities, and the drives will be ready in two-zero minutes. Cloaking devices one through six reported to be operating as expected.”

Quickly confirming with the Specialist at the sensor station, Azimuth followed with her update. “Sensors confirm we have arrived at the correct coordinates. Hyperspace targeting computer appears to be functioning within specifications.”

Quasar turned to the unicorn beside him. “Specialist?”

“Immediate area looks secure, Captain,” the orange pony replied. “Short-range sensors are only picking up small pockets of dust clouds. No interference expected. Long-range indicates three frigate contacts, bearing two-eight-four, zero-zero-eight. A fourth smaller contact is also in the vicinity.” Panning and rotating the sensor manager on one of his screens, he examined each blip in detail. Satisfied, he tapped several orders into the closest screen. “We’re verifying their drive energy signatures now. No IFF data available though.”

The Captain did not reply. Holding down a small button on the side of his seat, he reclined slightly and pulled out his coffee from a small stowage on the side of the seat base. Twisting the cap off, he gently nudged a few blobs of the black liquid out. The undulating liquid floated in the air for a moment, before Quasar sipped it away, watching as a droplet escaped his reach and floated off.

Having decided on a course of action after monitoring the situation, Quasar secured the cap on his flask, making eye contact with the navigation and engineering officers below. “Set heading for contacts. Rig for silent running, then set drives ahead standard.”

“Yes, sir. Rigging for silent,” Sierra read her order back and initiated the appropriate procedures. “Manoeuvring drives disabled, and CMGs online. Ahead standard, main drives.”

“Update on contacts, Captain,” the unicorn at the sensor station spoke up. “First three vessels appear to be Dagger-type ion-array frigs. Turanic Raiders.”

“Understood, Specialist,” Quasar replied, watching as the drop of coffee fell to the ground once the engines started. A return to normal gravity was felt shortly after. “What about the fourth?” he asked, still fine-tuning his seat’s position.

“Insufficient data. Contact is either too small, or a distortion field is set up around it. Or a combination of the two. I can however tell you that based on vector history, the Daggers appear to be patrolling around it.”

“Adjust course towards the fourth contact and hold position once we are five-zero klicks out,” Quasar ordered, growing frustrated at his seat. “And anypony know how to adjust the leg rest on this thing?”

“Five-zero klick mark reached. Contacts in visual range on forward camera,” the sensor station unicorn stated while squinting at the barely visible objects on his screen. “Looks like Raiders, alright. They appear to be patrolling around a … crate, or some sort of derelict.”

The Captain remained silent, as he too analysed the vessels. “Lieutenant Sabre,” he called out.

“Sir?”

“Calculate a synchronised firing solution for the Daggers. One torpedo each. Ensure the blasts do not damage the unknown contact. At least until we know what it is.”

“Understood. Permission to use active sensors?”

“Passive only. We’re still running silent. Lieutenant Azimuth, Ensign Sierra, take us in to cloaked torpedo range and re-position as necessary for Lieutenant Sabre.”

“Yes sir.” Azimuth shifted her focus back to her screens and input the necessary way-point information. A time value appeared at the side of her centre screen. “We will arrive at CTR in under a minute.”

“Order submitted for torpedo priming on tubes one, two and three,” Sierra reported. “Engineering awaiting response from the torpedo decks for plasma delivery.”

While the others continued to monitor the situation or complete preparations, Sabre immediately went to work at his station. Using Amarok’s passive sensors to track energy signatures from each contact’s engines, he input the required variables and constants into the torpedo data computer on his screens. As he did so, a message from the torpedo decks confirmed engineering’s transfer. Passing the message on to Sierra and Quasar, he resumed his work.

Studying the movement of each frigate closely, Sabre picked a moment in their patrol patterns that had so far been a straight run for each vessel. Selecting the appropriate locations on an adjacent screen’s sensor overlay, the software returned each vessel’s relevant positioning data with live updates.

Set bearing mode: [X] Relative, [ ] Absolute
Set launch coordinates: 0, 0, 0
Set torpedo speed: 400 m/s
Set detonator: [X] Coordinates, [ ] Impact, [ ] Proximity
Set run: [X] Straight, [ ] Custom

Contact 1
Velocity: 245 m/s, 131.4017° Azimuth, 8.0444° Inclination
Distance: 34942 m
Bearing: 0.5475° Azimuth, 0.9500° Inclination

Contact 2
Velocity: 232 m/s, 130.9792° Azimuth, 8.9836° Inclination
Distance: 36000 m
Bearing: 0.2150° Azimuth, 0.1010° Inclination

Contact 3:
Velocity: 239 m/s, 130.6925° Azimuth, 7.4100° Inclination
Distance: 29964 m
Bearing: 1.2005° Azimuth, 0.9801° Inclination

Shifting his focus back to the torpedo data computer’s screen, Sabre used the sensor data to create a firing solution for each target.

Impact point 1 bearing: 70.1629° Azimuth, 2.6530° Inclination
Impact point 1 distance: 36020.9907 m
Torpedo run time: 48 s
Launch timing: t + 45 s

Impact point 2 bearing: 78.1511° Azimuth, 1.6422° Inclination
Impact point 2 distance: 36021.4743 m
Torpedo run time: 32 s
Launch timing: t + 61 s

Impact point 3 bearing: 51.3709° Azimuth, 5.6960° Inclination
Impact point 3 distance: 36128.0819 m
Torpedo run time: 93 s
Launch timing: t + 0 s

Distance to firing sequence: 13395 m

“Plasma delivery complete. Engineering secured,” Sierra reported, while Sabre verified his work.

Satisfied with his results, Sabre spoke up. “Solution ready, Captain. Torpedo decks received bearing and firing sequence data.” Opening his mouth again, he paused as another notification arrived from the torpedo decks. “Tubes one, two, and three open, plasma delivery confirmed, and torpedo decks are secure.”

“You may fire when ready, Lieutenant.”

“Yes sir. Starting the clock.”

A single-digit countdown appeared on Sabre’s screen, indicating the time before the torpedo firing sequence would begin. As it reached zero, an almost imperceptible shudder of the ship could be felt, as the third torpedo tube’s magnetic accelerators launched the first torpedo.

“Torpedo away,” Sabre announced, while one of the tables displayed the estimated trajectory of the torpedo at long range. “Torpedo decks confirm launch of tube three and commencing reload. Next torpedo firing in three-five seconds.”

Hidden even from Amarok’s own sensors, the crew could not track the present location of the torpedo as it sped further from the vessel. With no other option but to monitor the icon showing its estimated position, they waited for the next torpedo’s countdown to reach zero.

While the torpedo whizzed towards its target, the torpedo decks’ crew commenced the process for their first reload. Having already closed the tube at the business end, the crew re-pressurised the tube and disengaged the clamps on the cap at the opposite end, revealing an opening in the ceiling of the middle torpedo deck. Three unicorns enveloped the torpedo directly below the opening in their aura, and lifted the ordnance up into the tube. Confirming a snug fit through cameras, the rest of the crew closed the tube.

With time to spare, the crew re-arranged the rest of the torpedoes. Once the centre-most torpedo had moved out of the way, an inter-deck passage was revealed on the floor and ceiling, wide enough to move torpedoes through. Coordinating with the lower deck crew, the floor passage opened, allowing the unicorns below to push one of their torpedoes through. Closing the passage, the aura around the torpedo dissipated, and the middle torpedo deck returned to full capacity.

“Torpedo away. Launched confirmed, tube one commencing reload,” Sabre spoke once again. “Final torpedo launching in eight seconds … five … three, two, one … torpedo away. Launch confirmed, tube two reloading. Firing sequence complete.”

“And now we wait,” Quasar commented, satisfied so far with his crew’s performance. He, and several others switched a screen at their respective stations to the external cameras, focusing on the targets and expected impact points.

The crew in the torpedo decks had almost finished reloading the next two tubes when Sabre announced, “Time to impact, two-zero seconds.”

Monitoring the estimated torpedo trajectories on their screens, the command crew were fixated on the three blips on the long-range sensors diverging from each other and closing in on their targets. Drawing nearer, Sabre read out the countdown, “One-zero seconds to impact. Three, two, one, impact!” he emphasised with a point of a hoof at his screen. Timed to his words, the external camera feeds flashed a blinding white. Zooming out, the crew made out giant clouds of brilliant blue plasma where their targets had once been, with plumes of gas trailing out in random directions from glowing-hot debris launched clear of the explosions.

The unicorn Specialist stared slack-jawed at his screen. “Sweet mother of Celestia.”

Even after the light had subsided, the crew made no sound or action aside from monitoring their screens. Deciding the crew had lingered enough on the outcome, he cleared his throat. “Good work, all. Specialist?” He turned to the orange unicorn. “Is the fourth conta—”

“Uhh hold that thought, sir. New message received,” the Specialist interrupted, eliciting a glare from Quasar. “It’s urgent.”

“Let me see that.” Quasar opened the message, his lips moving silently as he read the contents. “Lieutenant Azimuth, input these coordinates for hyperspace,” he ordered, sending the relevant information to the navigation station. “Ensign Sierra, secure the ship for immediate hyperspace,” he continued, reaching for the inter-phone once more. “This is the Captain. This exercise was a drill. Congratulations for performing as expected. The following will not be a drill. Stand down to situation bravo and prepare for immediate hyperspace. Further information to follow.”

“All decks have re-confirmed they are secured for immediate hyperspace, and engineering confirms drives are ready on your mark, Captain,” Sierra announced.

“Initiate hyperspace.”

8: Purple Smoke

Disoriented from the face-first ground impact, the changeling stumbled to its hooves, only to lose balance and fall over. It could hear screams overhead, streaking through the sky like fireworks. Hundreds of voices, all followed by distinct dull thuds in the distance as they crashed through trees and shrubbery, landing unceremoniously in their own little craters of soil.

Seeing blurry doubles, the changeling attempted to look around, sighting several bodies around it. A trio of coughs caught its attention from the closest body, near a small tree that snapped near the base of its trunk. Using whatever strength it had, the changeling crawled towards the source of the sound.

As it neared the body, the changeling found it writhing in agony, with its belly up and back arched. A quick inspection revealed its comrade had impaled itself on the tree stump, with a small part of the jagged edge protruding from its lower abdomen.

Gasping, Obsidian opened his eyes, finding himself staring up at the confines of his bed, as another dream interrupted his short nap. Devoid of expression, he remained on his back, taking several deep breaths. After several minutes, he pulled out a small musical device and a pair of headphones from under his pillow, which he had found lying about his quarters after returning from his excursion. Passing some free time with the contents of the device, he kept cycling through the songs, scoffing at the owner’s taste in music.

After finding a decent track, he readjusted himself. Though he had already overheard several across the decks complaining about the odd water-beds that served as emergency storage tanks, the changeling was rather fond of his. Despite comfortably fitting even a diamond dog, Obsidian’s favourite feature was the rolling shutter he could bring down to completely encapsulate himself in a confined space of soothing darkness.

Setting aside the device after a particularly cheesy country song, he heard approaching hoofsteps that came to a halt by the adjacent bed. Curious, he opened the shutter to find the back half of a dark orange pony.

Hearing the shutter open, the pony slid himself sideways, coming face to face with Obsidian. “Hey there, fellow—” was all he managed before choking on his words, freezing as he realised who and what was in front of him. He stared at the changeling …

…

Obsidian stared back …

…

Without warning, the pony let out a feminine shriek, fell on his back, and scurried backwards, until he was underneath the table and against its base.

Obsidian continued to stare at the hyperventilating unicorn, whose chest heaved visibly. Neither made any move for a while, until the unicorn finally silenced his gasping and spoke. “Umm … Hi?”

Obsidian blinked, unsure of how to respond. An uneasy silence hung in the room, broken only by the faint pulsing hum of the destroyer.

“I umm, don’t suppose y—you have a name?” the unicorn forced a smile. “M—mine’s Crux.”

The changeling raised an eyebrow. “Obsidi—”

“Please don’t eat me,” he squeaked.

Obsidian made to slam his bed shut, when a tone sounded across the ship. “This is the Captain. Attention crew at stations, situation bravo. Hyperspace jump in two-zero minutes.”

The ship-wide announcement caused immediate commotion among the crew, evident when Obsidian heard the scurry of hooves, scratching of talons, and thumping of paws from nearby quarters as others rushed to their stations. For Obsidian, this meant taking his post near the forward sensors as part of the security detail. Seeing the pony still frozen in place, Obsidian spoke, “Well? Are you going to head to your station, or are you planning on defecating yourself?” After no response, Obsidian rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. “Move!” he boomed.

That seemed enough to get the pony scrambling out from underneath the table, hitting his head and tripping over himself twice in the process. “Unbelievable,” Obsidian muttered to himself as he emerged from his bed. “How we lost the buzzing invasion is beyond me,” he continued rambling. “Friendship is magic, my shiny, fragrant flank.”

Unfolding the BPS from a drawer under his bed, Obsidian squeezed into the tight, elastic garment. The black suit felt rather uncomfortable. Making multiple attempts at straightening, rotating and aligning various sections, as well as adjusting the position of his tail within, the changeling managed to improve the feel of the suit to a minor nuisance. Reaching in to the drawer, he removed the helmet part of his suit, securing it against the neck seal. A quick inspection of himself in the bathroom mirror revealed the overall shape of his body changed little, though he appeared slightly odd with a protective horn cover shaped for a unicorn.

While the diagnostics software in his helmet ran through basic checks, Obsidian gave his wings a few test flaps. The suit definitely restricted his ability to fly, though after a quick hover, he seemed to cope just fine, even if the ship was just at half gravity. Landing, he flipped up the visor on his helmet after it had completed its functions, and secured his personal armour atop the BPS. The custom-made set Queen Chrysalis herself had made for him came complete with mirror-finished leading and trailing edge wing blades, tipped with reinforced obsidian bevels. Fitting a small half-hour oxygen bottle to a quick-disconnect valve underneath himself, he re-attached his VMUI and proceeded out.

After retrieving his LR-48 from the armoury, he headed to the top deck. Barely any room remained, with the torpedo tubes extending through the floor, and a giant cylindrical structure between them, hiding the forward sensor dome inside. Between the dorsal side elevators, a smaller side dome protruded. Unlike the main sensor dome, this dome was exposed, with thick cables attached at many points along the copper surface, snaking towards ever larger bundles that eventually threaded through a pony-sized conduit leading into the main dome.

Moving across the smaller deck, Obsidian observed two ponies at ringed seats, both eyeing him suspiciously. Assuming the deck’s features were mirrored on the ventral side, he looked up at a walkway about half-way up the main sensor’s column.

“I don’t believe we were properly acquainted earlier,” Obsidian heard a voice behind him, causing him to tense up. The zebra Infiltrator appeared seemingly out of nowhere, though she made no effort to draw attention to it. “You must be Obsidian, if the name I’ve been hearing from others is any indication. I figured the changeling would be the big conversational topic.”

“Nice to know they’re keeping me in their thoughts. And you are …?”

“Most call me Shadow.”

“Okay. I take it you’re security as well? Any idea what’s going on?”

“I know as much as you. Situation bravo, be alert at stations.”

“Hmm. Figured an officer might know more. Speaking of, what’s an officer doing on security duty?”

Shadow shrugged. “Nothing else for us Infiltrators to do. Might as well supplement security.”

“Makes sense. Guess we better take our positions then.” Obsidian extended his wings. He froze, looking back at the zebra. “How exactly are you supposed to get up there, anyway?”

Securing her pulsar carbine to her side, Shadow galloped towards the side sensor. Leaping into the air, she took hold of the robust electrical connections, and swung herself up with her momentum. As she climbed higher and more inboard, she eventually pushed off, landing on the walkway with ease. Mildly entertained at the display, Obsidian decided to forego flight, and repeated Shadow’s movements. His lighter frame allowed him to ascend in half the time, reaching Shadow by the time she finished re-attaching her carbine.

The amused zebra snorted. “Careful now. I might interpret that as a challenge and get distracted from my duties.”

“Perhaps it was.” Obsidian felt a small grin on his face, before noticing several protruding rungs hidden around the corner between the torpedo tubes. “Oh, I guess there was an easier way to get up here.”

“This is the Captain. This exercise was a drill. Congratulations for performing as expected. The following will not be a drill. Stand down to situation bravo and prepare for immediate hyperspace. Further information to follow.”

Hearing the announcement, Obsidian secured his carbine to his side and floated towards Shadow, securing his mag boots as he got close enough. “Of course it was a drill. Should have been obvious enough.”

Shadow shrugged, slumping slightly as gravity returned and Amarok entered hyperspace. “Could have been real. First day out in the field when I started serving for Equestria, I thought I was in the middle of a drill. Didn’t take long for me to figure out it was the real thing once I heard screaming and shouting.”

“You fought for Equestria?” Obsidian’s tone grew disdainful. “As what, exactly?”

“Even if I had the time to explain my former duties, they would all be highly classified,” Shadow explained. A long silence grew between the pair. “You seem to hold a significant amount of hatred towards Equestria. Might I ask why?”

“I have more reason than most of my kind to hate ponies, but I’d rather not discuss it with someone I’ve just met.”

“Understandable. I won’t press the matter then. If you’re ever interested in taking out some anger, I’ll probably be down in the gym when I’m off-duty. I wouldn’t mind a sparring partner if you’re up for a session or two.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Perfect. Gives me a good excuse to give away some spare sparring PPE I never used.”

The familiar tone preceding a ship-wide announcement droned, followed by the Eclipse’s voice. “This is the XO. All crew stand down to situation charlie. Infiltrators, report to the library for briefing in one-zero minutes.”

“Let’s not keep him waiting.” Shadow leapt into the air and fell with grace, hitting the ground rolling and returning to her hooves. Glancing once at Obsidian, she walked off towards an elevator with a grin of her own.

Obsidian hid his shock. That had to be a fifteen metre drop. Knowing his body wouldn’t withstand such a fall, he spread his wings and dived vertically, levelling off just above the walkway. Gliding, he maintained altitude until his speed could no longer permit it, at which point he landed with a gallop and slowed to a leisurely pace beside Shadow.

“Have you two finished showing off yet?” a pegasus shouted from a nearby seat.

“Get buzzed!” Obsidian yelled back.

Something soft hit Obsidian’s flank, and the changeling whipped his head back at the pegasus with a snarling growl. He stopped abruptly when he noticed the object still stuck to his body. “Did you just throw a cupcake?”

“Obsidian,” Shadow warned. “Wrong time. Wrong place.”

The changeling stood his ground for a moment. Deciding it wasn’t worth the hassle, he pointed at his eyes, then at the pegasus as he backed away, brushing the baked good off himself. “You know I could have effortlessly wiped the floor with him, right?” he remarked, as he and Shadow entered the elevator.

“My concern precisely.”

With the last of the six Infiltrators filing through the pressure doors to their briefing room, Eclipse promptly dimmed the lights and powered on a three-dimensional projector between the three tables. “Good … evening,” he started, checking the time on his VMUI. “Before we start, let me see if I can match the names to your faces, seeing as I didn’t get the chance earlier. Sparky seems like an atypical name for a pony, so I will assume that would be the diamond dog. Correct, Lieutenant?”

Arms folded, the burly, sandy-brown mass of muscle closest to the officer grunted. Satisfied with the answer, Eclipse moved on. “Next would be our Specialists. Glad to see you two again, Shift and Swift.” Nodding at the twins, Eclipse gave the pair a disapproving look, as both relaxed a little too much in their seats. Neither took the hint, so Eclipse shook his head and turned to the changeling. “You are obviously Chief Obsidian, so beside you would be … Deckhoof Glaring Light?”

“Yes, sir,” Glare acknowledged. She quickly added, “Glare is fine, though.”

The changeling had to perform a double-take to realise someone—or rather, somepony—had sat beside him, instead of the other empty seats. He dismissed the curious thought as Eclipse acknowledged the final member of the infiltration team.

“Then that leaves the zebra. I—uhh …” Eclipse paused, furrowing his brow at the complex name scribbled on his notepad. “I’m sorry, I still haven’t figured out how to pronounce your name. Is it still classified?”

“It is. Please, just call me Shadow.”

“Lieutenant Commander Shadow it is, then. Right, let’s begin. We have an emergency situation. A civilian luxury liner recently transmitted a distress signal,” Eclipse began. The projector displayed the relevant ship, its profile resembling that of a miniature Vaygr shipyard, down to the ‘bathtub with an engine block’ description used by many pilots. A key difference was the transparent cover sealing the hollow dorsal structure, turning the area into an observation deck. “Vessel’s Captain claimed systems suddenly went inop, including life support, forcing crew to initiate evacuation via lifeboats. While everyone made it safely off the vessel, the liner’s trajectory takes it through a network of asteroid colonies, narrowly missing most, but on a collision course with the most populated one.”

The projector image transitioned into a map of the mission area, showing the ship, asteroids, and relevant vectors. The densely packed asteroids appeared to be secured to each other via a series of tubes or supports, forming the base and core of each geodesic surface structure that housed each colony. Displayed beside each colony were four-digit population counts, and following the liner was a countdown timer.

“Upon arrival, we'll have a little under two hours before the vessel impacts the colony. As we are the closest ship with sufficient combat capabilities, we have been tasked with handling this threat. Unfortunately, there are some complications that will force us to make difficult decisions. As all attempts to regain control of the vessel have failed, the only option remaining is to destroy the ship and break up or divert any significant debris to minimise collateral damage.”

“Collateral damage?” Glare asked, hoping it was not what she thought it meant.

Another transition of the 3D imagery showed an explosion of the ship, including arrows from the explosion to the nearest colony. As the animation played out, Eclipse pressed on. “The proximity to other colonies will result in catastrophic debris damage to at least one other colony with a detonation of sufficient magnitude. Analysis indicates this structure to be the least populated we can sacrifice within the available time frame, so this is where we will destroy the ship,” he stated, pointing at the highlighted object on the projection. “Due to the destructive power of our torpedoes, we cannot risk further lives with an external attack. Therefore, we require a team to plant demolitions from within, following a standard seeding mission. Once you return, Amarok will target any larger debris that may pose a threat to other colonies and fire empty torpedoes to push them off course.”

“Has any attempt been made to evacuate the colonists?” Glare enquired.

“A few civilian vessels have assisted, yes,” Eclipse clarified. “Unfortunately, none have the capacity to rescue more than a few at a time. While Amarok could potentially save several hundred, maybe even a thousand, performing an evac under the time constraints would jeopardise the operation and put thousands more at risk. Even so, by the time such a rescue op could be mounted, the liner would have travelled past and collided with the other colony. Our only two choices are to sit idle and lose a larger number of lives, or take action and sacrifice a smaller population.”

Glare continued to look for alternatives. “What about trying to push the liner off-course? You said Amarok will divert debris, but why not divert the whole ship instead?”

“According to the civilian ships, several vessels tried. I’m guessing the liner’s auto-nav systems locked on to that colony before malfunctioning. Manoeuvring thrusters simply compensated for any course deviation other ships tried to impose on it. It might be for the best though,” Eclipse explained, turning back to the colony map. “Pushing it off-course might just send the liner into one or more support structures on other colonies.”

“Oh. I see,” Glare replied solemnly.

Eclipse hummed, sharing Glare’s sentiments.“Naturally, we’ve communicated our intentions to the colonies and have their permission to proceed with the mission. No matter how you look at it though, it’s a horrible situation. We’ll be exiting hyperspace within the hour. Once the Captain makes his announcement, head back here and gear up. I will update you on where to plant your demolitions once we have analysed the ship schematics. Dismissed.”

Hitting number five in the elevator, Obsidian returned to the utilities deck to finalise his inspection of a promising hiding spot found during his initial tour of the ship. The relatively quiet deck, combined with dim lighting and hot water pipes, proved agreeable with his affinity for dark and warm environments. He reasoned that the isolated area would be a suitable alternative to his quarters, should any temporary conflict evasion be necessary.

The deck was littered with eighteen gas or liquid tanks, shaped like squashed spheres, each painted in a distinct colour. Red for fire suppression, blue for potable water, green for oxygen, yellow for waste water, and purple for standard atmospheric air. An intricate web of pipes extended from the tanks, to the central pipes that serviced the entire ship, while several others connected to other tanks, either directly, or via mixing pumps. Spread evenly closer to the hull were six large power banks, with two ringed seats between each bank.

Passing a turquoise earth pony working on a power bank’s circuitry, the electrician paused to look at the changeling. Narrowing his eyes, he disconnected his multi-meter from a pair of contacts, and shadowed Obsidian.

The pony did not remain elusive for long. “What do you want?” Obsidian raised his voice, not bothering to look behind him.

“Just making sure you’re not up to no good here,” the pony replied, moving up beside Obsidian, but still keeping a reasonable distance.

“Good job,” Obsidian responded flatly. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of his follower’s Specialist insignia. “Looking to get yourself a promotion with that proactive attitude, I see. You’ll make Petty Officer in no time. I’ll say this only once. Leave me alone, and we’ll have no problems.”

The pony took a step forward. “Yeah, you don’t frighten me, and there’s no way I’m letting you trot around unsupervised if I can help it. As far as I or anypony else is concerned on this ship, you’re the enemy. There’s nothing you can do that any other good nation can’t do. Everypony knows it. Your kind are security threats, and frankly, we could do with a good fumigation right about now. Don’t even know how your queen bee convinced—”

The sound of a cracking whip echoed around the pair, and the Specialist stiffened up, before keeling over. Obsidian grimaced, his wing stinging at the point of impact with the back of the pony’s head. Dramatic little shi—

“Yo, Amp!” a voice at one end of the deck filtered through the jungle of tanks and pipes. “Did you short-circuit something again? I don’t wanna have to requisition components for at least a month, you hear me?”

Wasting no time, Obsidian took the form of the Specialist he assumed was Amp, and replicated his voice. “I heard it as well. Everything is fine here, as far as I can tell. Let me look around, and I’ll get back to you.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll run some quick diagnostics from my seat in the meantime. I can at least narrow down where you screwed up.”

Opting to remain silent, Obsidian dragged the unconscious pony toward the hull, stuffing him into one of the containers in the deck’s stowage ring. Glancing around once more, he nestled the body between a tool chest, and a portable phased disassembler array, and promptly left the deck.

There goes a promising spot.

On approach to the liner with half an hour remaining until impact, the six Infiltrators returned to the briefing room, shortly after signing their equipment out from the armoury and supply compartment. Swift secured a larger oxygen bottle to himself and checked the flow rate. Looking up, he raised his voice. “Oi, fellas, I wanted to get your opinions on something. Is it me, or are these BPSes oddly comfortable?”

“Mate, no idea what’s in yours, but this thing has been riding up my flank like nopony’s business,” Shift snickered, wiggling his posterior in the air, before twirling an LR-48 and securing it to his left side.

Obsidian rolled his eyes and shook his head while packing demolitions into his side bag. “And yet you still announce it to others within earshot,” he muttered.

Eclipse shouted through the open pressure doors from outside. “Guys, you ready to go? Amarok is in position against the target hull.”

Exiting the briefing room compartment, the group gathered around the tunnel’s ramp. Tapping on one of the nearby seats’ screens, eight small spheres of electromagnetic energy materialised. Following the tunnel’s circumference, they whizzed around, faster and faster until they blurred together into an electric-blue ring. In a zap of power, the area within the ring was overlapped with similarly coloured energy. The Infiltrators ascended the ramp and gathered at the edge of the tunnel, awaiting the green light as a probe attached to a telescopic structure on the tunnel’s ceiling extended into the beam. A few seconds later, the probe returned.

Reviewing the data from his screen, Eclipse seemed satisfied. “Insertion beam is stable. Probe reports atmospheric density is low and may not be flight-sustainable, though the ship’s artificial gravity still seems to be online. You’re cleared for insertion.”

Wasting no time, the team of six headed through the tunnel. The device whisked the group through to the other end, slowing their approach as they neared their destination. Compensating for the difference in orientation between the two ships, the beam dropped the squad upright at their destination as they emerged from the ceiling of their target. Soon after, the insertion beam faded away, and the team found themselves alone in what appeared to be a large dining hall. Judging by the broken plates and cutlery scattered across the floor between upturned chairs and tables, it was clear the passengers were hastily evacuated.

“We have our orders,” Shadow’s voice cracked over the comms. “The locations we need to plant the demolitions are marked appropriately on your CNSes. Swift, you’re with me to site alpha. Shift and Sparky, head to bravo down near engineering. Follow the access shaft leading to the ventral longitudinal spar. Obsidian and Glare, a maintenance corridor on this deck runs between the two dorsal spars. Take it to charlie. Once you’ve planted your charges, return here for extraction. Questions? Let’s move!”

Splitting into their respective pairs, the six went their separate ways through the eerie silence, broken only by their re-breathers. The groups headed to the key points that would cause the ship to break apart into pieces that would fly off in safe directions, using demolitions designed to vaporise material and minimise debris. As Obsidian and Glare headed aft, they galloped down the observation deck, noting the nearby asteroids and domed structures protruding from the rocky surfaces, along with the unfortunate inhabitants of one of them.

“This isn’t right,” Glare spoke to herself. “We are playing with the lives of others here.”

“Not something I’d expect you to know, but what’s right and what’s necessary are two very different things,” Obsidian's voice came through Glare's earpiece.

Whipping her head around at Obsidian, Glare moved up beside him. “Sorry, Chief. I—I didn’t realise my comms were open.”

“They weren’t.” Obsidian said, maintaining focus on the open doorway at the end of deck. “I can hear well enough through the thin atmosphere outside our helmets.”

Deciding not to reply, Obsidian and Glare finished their tasks in silence and made to return to the insertion point, informing the others they were finished.

“Demolitions set at alpha,” Shadow announced over comms, while Obsidian and Glare walked leisurely through the observation deck. Obsidian paused to look outside.

“Shift here. Charges placed at bravo. And we figured we’d try shutting down the primary power-plant from the auxiliary engineering stations. No response. I’m no engineer, but I thought that was supposed to work.”

“Acknowledged,” Shadow replied. “Return to the insertion point immediately.”

Noticing the changeling was well behind her and still looking up at the asteroids, Glare stopped. “Chief? Are you coming?”

Obsidian continued looking outside, his eyes locked on to the liner’s bridge, partially visible from his angle. “Something is definitely not right,” he muttered to himself. He faced the unicorn, “Head back without me. I’ll catch up in a few minutes.” Without waiting for a response, he made his way towards the bridge in the upper decks.

Reaching the bridge, Obsidian surveyed the abandoned area, moving slowly between the stations. Creeping past the navigation station, he doubled back when he saw a partially folded paper chart. Opening it up, he found a local area map of the region, with way-points plotted through the colonies. Scanning the map, he looked outside and concluded the vessel was headed in the right general direction.

Why would a ship lose all control while on this precise heading? Out of all the marked way-points, it’s the only leg of the route with a collision risk. What a coincidence.

Obsidian frowned. Something didn’t add up to him, though he was not sure what. Even a complete restart of all ship systems should have returned at least basic functionality. At least, he thought so, from his limited knowledge of ship systems. Pulling the core, or whatever they call it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move. It was brief. A small cloudy swirl. The purple smoke had dispersed before he could focus on it. Readying his pulsar, he cautiously approached the station it emerged from and studied the nearby consoles. Engineer’s station, he concluded. Trying for the sake of trying, Obsidian quickly glanced around, then tapped one of the screens in an attempt to activate retrograde engines. As expected, completely unresponsive.

“Obsidian!” Swift’s voice blared through his earpiece. Or Shift’s. He couldn’t tell. “Where the hay are you? We’ve got fifteen minutes before this place blows!”

“I’m still up in the bridge,” the changeling lowered his voice, exploring other stations. “I wanted t—there it is again!” Swinging around, he aimed his carbine at another set of consoles nearby.

“There is what again? Why are you whispering?”

“There’s something in the bridge.” Obsidian approached what appeared to be the Captain’s station. “Hard to describe, but it reminds me of a magical aura. I think it’s a little more solid, but it disappears before I can get a good look at it.”

“Who cares? Get your bug-butt down here before we leave you behind.”

The changeling frowned once more, missing yet another swirl from a third station. Whatever the elusive object or substance was, it seemed—at least to Obsidian—somehow related to the entire situation. “No.”

“Huh? What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I mean no. We still have a few minutes, right? Go back down to engineering. I want to try something.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be taking the piss! What the hay are you doing?”

“If I’m right, we won’t need to destroy a colony full of innocent lives. Message Amarok to target any debris that may collide with colonies immediately.”

“We’re cutting it close, Obsidian,” Shadow pointed out. “One wrong move, and we miss our window for minimising casualties.”

Glare agreed with the changeling. “I’m with the Chief on this one. If there’s a chance we can save every life, I want to take it.”

The pegasus sighed. “Shadow? The decision is yours.”

After a few seconds of silence, the zebra finally replied, “Okay. Shift, take Sparky back down to engineering.”

“Bloody hay, fine,” Shift groaned. “You better be on to something here, Siddy. I don’t get paid by the hour.”

Obsidian pulled out the last few demolition charges he had. Setting a sixty-second countdown on their timers, he threw them randomly throughout the bridge and moved to a safe distance. After a hasty retreat, the resulting explosion shook the entire vessel, tearing the bridge away from the ship and leaving several pipes and cables hanging out from what little was still attached to the vessel.

“What just happened?” Shift’s voice was barely audible over the howling noise of a rapid decompression.

“Try bringing us—ahh, buzzing hell,” Obsidian broke off, as the rush of air pulled him backwards, slamming his back into the pressure door that had just closed behind him. Shaking it off, he continued, “Try bringing us to a stop now!” Returning to the observation deck, he noted a progressively louder hum, and the rate at which the asteroids passed by slowing down. Eventually, the luxury liner had come to a complete stop and once again, silence had filled the ship’s halls.

“Does this mean your plan worked?” Glare asked.

“Never really had a plan, but I think so,” Obsidian replied. “Honestly, I was not entirely sure if that would work, but something in the bridge definitely interfered with the ship.”

“We should disarm the demolitions then,” Shadow ordered. “We can discuss the rest in our debrief.”

Eclipse returned to the briefing room, dropping Obsidian’s helmet in front of the changeling. “Thank you all for your patience. We’ve completed our preliminary analysis of Obsidian’s helmet camera.”

…

“And?” Swift and Shift replied in unison, leaning forward expectantly.

“And”—Eclipse shrugged—“we have no idea what we saw. Obsidian’s description of this ‘purple smoke’ is accurate enough. Far as we could tell, the appearance of this anomaly seems inconsistent with the behaviours and sources of smoke, though. We found no evidence of fire or electrical faults that could cause smoke to appear as it did, nor were there any clues in the ship’s data recorders. In fact, the data recorders appeared to have been completely wiped. This, and the fact the smoke dissipated atypically just raises further questions.”

“Hold on, I think we need to know the most important information of all,” Glare interrupted. “Are the colonists alright?”

“A nearby colony suffered minor structural damage from light debris as a result of the bridge detonation,” Eclipse answered, after skimming over some notes. “However, barring a minor decompression that had been patched up soon after, no colony sustained any major damage. The colonists are all alive and unharmed.”

“Good to hear.” Shadow nodded, before turning to the changeling. “Now, back to the mission. What made you decide to destroy the bridge?”

“We get called to an out-of-control vessel, and I find strange things in the bridge that, apparently, have never happened before. Seems like an odd coincidence, no? Figured if we were going to destroy the ship anyway, I might as well try destroying the uhh, smoke, or somehow separate it from the rest of the ship,” Obsidian explained. “What’s the worst case scenario? The colony we were going to sacrifice might have suffered a little more damage before getting destroyed.”

Shadow raised an eyebrow. “You’re suggesting this smoke was responsible for an unresponsive ship, rather than some malfunction?”

“Like I said, it seemed like an odd coincidence. Whatever that smoke was, perhaps it …” Obsidian paused, trying to think of an explanation. “Perhaps it uhh, overrode any commands from primary and auxiliary inputs, such as those from the bridge or engineering section of the vessel? I don’t know how smoke could do that, or why, but if it’s true … Where did it come from? Of course, I could be completely wrong. I’m just speculating here.”

“Did either of you notice this phenomenon when you were at the auxiliary stations?” Eclipse asked Shift and Sparky.

“Nah,” Shift replied, as he and Sparky shook their heads. “Not like we were on the lookout or anything.”

The officer hummed. “Alright, well I can’t think of anything else for now. We’ll need to question the Captain of the luxury liner, and both your camera and answers shall require much thought. Perhaps the Hiigarans might have additional information on this as well. For now, you are all dismissed.”

Obsidian had almost forgotten to return to the utilities deck. After taking care of a few things on several other decks, he exited the elevator on deck five. Ensuring none of the other crew were in sight or in earshot, Obsidian pulled Amp out of the stowage. Slapping the pony with his wing, he waited as Amp stirred. After no response, he pulled out a bottle of water from one of his side bags and emptied the contents on Amp’s face.

When Amp’s eyes finally opened, he found Obsidian looking down at him. “What—what the hay did you do to me?” he groaned, wiping water out of his eyes.

“I gave you a warning. You chose to ignore it. As a result, I decided to take your form while you were out,” Obsidian lied.

“Wha—you did what?” Amp mumbled, still in a daze. “Why?”

“Let’s just say that it was the most effective way of letting others know that you and your sister had a brief fling before the Navy.”

Amp blinked. “What are you talking about? I don’t even have a sister.”

“No one on Amarok knows that, though,” Obsidian countered. “Enjoy your new-found reputation.”

Amp’s eyes widened when he finally realised the magnitude of the situation. Bolting upright, he started to panic. “Oh, no. No, no, no, you bastard!”

“Fortunately for you, that was a lie. Let it be your second and last warning. Stay out of my way, or rumours of familial relations will be the least of your worries.”

“You bugs really are evil.”

“Funny. After what you did to us, and after all the other events in your nation’s history, you still don’t know the meaning of the word.” Turning around, Obsidian headed back toward the elevator. “Provoke me again, and I’ll be happy to provide a definition.”

9: Light

Despite the interruption, Amarok returned to complete the final objective of its drills, after a Hiigaran relief force arrived to take over the investigations of the liner’s incident. Returning home for a quick resupply of torpedoes, the destroyer commenced a routine patrol across a section of friendly territory.

Having finished with the debriefing earlier, Obsidian returned to his quarters. Noticing Crux’s closed shutter, he remained silent as he slid under his blanket, and closed himself off slowly. After adjusting into a comfortable position, the changeling dozed off, forcing the adjacent occupant to wake abruptly at the sound of something halfway between a low snore and a snarl. The adrenaline surge made Crux fully alert, and he froze in place, listening to the rapid thumping of his heartbeat in his ears, between the quiet but demonic snores of the changeling on the opposite side of the wall.

Trembling, the pony rolled over, peeking out from his bed. He stared at Obsidian’s shutter for a length of time, contemplating what to do next as his eyes shifted around and hooves tapped nervously from left to right. Making up his mind, he extended a trembling hoof towards the handle of Obsidian’s shutter and pulled it up at a snail’s pace.

Though dark, there was just enough light to make out the outline of the changeling’s body, partially exposed above the blanket. Belly up, Obsidian’s limbs were sprawled in odd directions, while his head faced the unicorn. Dominating Crux’s vision were the changeling’s fangs, and the rows of teeth that accompanied them. Staring into those wide-open jaws, visions of hungry changelings chasing Crux had filled his mind, sending his heart into overdrive, and his breathing with it.

Crux noticed the lack of snoring too late, and two blue eyes appeared in front of him. Their luminescence highlighted their shape, which quickly turned from curiosity, to irritation.

After growing tired of waiting for Crux to make any movement, Obsidian barked, “What?”

“AAHHH!” Crux propelled himself out of his bed, stumbling over something in the dark and hitting the edge of the table with a resounding clunk.

Shaking his head, Obsidian slammed his shutter down and closed his eyes once again. “Stupid pony,” he muttered. Wiggling back into his preferred position, he noted a distinct lack of movement. Curious, he opened his shutter again. “Crux?” he called out, before quickly sighting the motionless pony under the table. Rolling his eyes, he emerged from his bunk with a sigh. “Buzz me sideways.”

“It looks like a minor concussion, but from what I can tell, there doesn’t appear to be any permanent damage, and his neck seems fine. Just some swelling that should go on its own,” the medic informed Eclipse. Shifting his eyes between the officer and the changeling seated at the far end of the medical compartment, he lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned forward, “I examined the patient multiple times. While I see no signs of a fight between the two, we can’t rule out … you know … him uhh, ambushing the patient.”

“I can still hear you,” Obsidian announced, causing the medic to flinch. “He pretty much just ran face-first into the table’s edge.”

The medic narrowed his eyes. “And why would he run right into a table, exactly? In such an open room, no less.”

“Because the majority of the Equestrian population consists of xenophobic cowards?”

“Listen here, you little sh—”

“Maybe he ran into a table, and maybe he didn’t,” Eclipse quickly cut in. “We will know for sure soon enough. Let me know when he wakes.”

“Will do. If you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.” After receiving a nod from Eclipse, the medic tucked several folders beneath his wing, and headed for the laboratory.

After the medic moved out of sight, Obsidian rose and approached Eclipse. “Commander, I realise this looks suspicious, but—”

Eclipse held a hoof up to interrupt. “I believe you, Chief.”

The changeling blinked. “You do?”

“Well, there’s always room for doubt, but reviewing what happened, it wouldn’t be a reasonable conclusion to say you had attacked a fellow crew-mate. It’s possible, but not probable. I fail to see any motive. Plus you were the one to report the accident and carry him here, so there’s that.”

Obsidian hummed, flaring his nostrils in mild annoyance. He decided it would not be worth the hassle of listing the previous incidents. “Well at least somepony doesn’t instantly assume the worst of me. On a related topic, I don’t suppose it’s possible to change quarters? I’d prefer sharing with crew who don’t soil themselves in my presence. Griffons, diamond dogs, whoever.”

“Eh, there is nothing explicitly forbidding crew from swapping quarters”—Eclipse shrugged—“but it wouldn’t be fair to force others to do so without a valid reason. If you can figure out a way to make all crew in any involved quarters happy, let me know. The way I see it though, you’d have better luck getting your poor friend to swap instead.”

“Find crew willing to swap into quarters with a changeling in it. Got it. Easier said than done, I suppose.”

“Just a thought, but perhaps it might help if you didn’t antagonise everypony so much,” Eclipse suggested. “The medic was a perfect example.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who started it!” Obsidian grew defensive.

“Then be the better pon—be the better changeling and end it.”

“That’s not—” Obsidian sighed. “Never mind. Are we done here?”

Eclipse nodded. “Just try to keep your head down.”

With little else to do, Obsidian headed to the galley, depositing his BPS in a nearby locker. Claiming a tray from the end of the buffet station specially catered for griffon diets, Obsidian searched for a seat. A scan of the area yielded nothing more than isolated vacant seats from the table furthest from him, and after the looks received from ponies beside them, it was clear he wouldn’t find a suitable place to eat. Looking up at the panels on the ceiling, he flew up, pushed one open, and squeezed through. Nestling himself prone above a row of hot water pipes, he started on his meal of seared scallops and beans.

Several ponies beneath Obsidian grew uncomfortable, as they glanced up into the dark square in the ceiling, sighting only a pair of levitating blue eyes. Obsidian watched, unamused, as the group left abruptly, leaving their half-eaten meals behind. “Yeah, you better buzz off,” he muttered to himself. Taking a swig of heavily sweetened iced tea, he lowered his head closer to the panel opening and observed the galley.

Most of the crew seated at the closest table appeared tired, and had likely finished their shifts, if their lack of social interaction indicated anything. Across the galley, Obsidian spied the red pegasus from his earlier altercation, seated at the end of the other table. Glancing back at his meal tray, the changeling resisted the urge to sneak through the ceiling and throw it through the panel above the pony. Would be a terrible waste of food, anyway.

At the opposite end of the table sat a lone unicorn, surrounded by a cylindrical magic barrier, cloudy and golden, that emitted a faint melodic hum. Buried deep within the pages of a book, she fiddled with her mane on occasion. Squinting, Obsidian recognised the pony as the Deckhoof from his squad. He watched as she flipped back and forth between two pages, visibly frustrated by the contents.

Spread across the rest of the table were a group of griffons. The chatty bunch would occasionally burst out in booming laughter, one in particular hammering his fistful of talons against the table. The other ponies filling the table’s seats occasionally added to the conversation, though most were transfixed on the griffons who did most of the talking.

Plates licked clean, the changeling enjoyed the warmth a while longer, before preparing to emerge from the ceiling. Pausing, he grew curious at Glare’s spell and moved through the ceiling, crawling along the pipes while following the sound of the spell. Bumping into an invisible wall, Obsidian was surprised the spell emitted no light. He did recall the golden colour fading, the higher up it got from the unicorn, however.

Pulling back a panel, Obsidian found himself at the spell’s edge, looking down at the mare. Giving her barrier a poke with his hoof, Obsidian saw a subtle ripple in the spell. The barrier itself felt solid, despite the increasing transparency at height. Still engrossed in her book, the unicorn hadn’t noticed anything. Not satisfied, Obsidian braced his hind hooves against the pipes, and tried pushing against the spell with additional force.

Through the humming the spell gave off, Obsidian heard the pony within sneeze. In that instant, the spell flickered. Left with no resistance, Obsidian shot through the open panel, hitting the table with a loud thud and scattering the cutlery on a nearby plate.

Glare was stunned. The book she had been reading moments prior had been replaced with a belly-flopping changeling. “Chief? Umm …” she began, unsure how to react. “Can I … help you?”

Standing up, Obsidian checked his surroundings. None of the other crew seemed to notice a thing. “Uhh, no. I just … sort of fell through your spell.”

Glare’s eyes travelled up to the open panel in the ceiling, then back again at the changeling. “Huh …”

Obsidian got down from the table. “Anyway, if you don’t mind dropping your spell, I’ll just—” he paused, turning around after a quick thought. “You didn’t freak out when I fell.”

“Hmm?” Glare had been busy inspecting her book for any damage when she looked back towards Obsidian.

“When I fell, you barely reacted. Any other pony would have likely screamed ‘assassin’ at the top of their lungs. I also found it odd you sat beside me in the briefing room, when there were plenty of available seats. Why was that? It’s like I wasn’t a changeling to you.”

Glare shrugged. “Uhh, I guess it was the closest seat? I don’t know. I’ve had—I mean, I was there when Canterlot was … you know. But you’re still crew. I think I can trust the judgement of whoever let you on board enough to know you’re neither a malicious nor psychologically unstable creature.”

“I—thank you. It’s comforting to know there are at least a couple of ponies around with some sense in them.” Growing uncomfortable, Obsidian avoided eye contact. “I uhh, should leave. I’ve disturbed you enough.”

Glare dismissed her spell. “It’s fine. Besides, I’m guessing it’s hard enough for you to have a civilised conversation with others here, let alone trying to make a few friends.”

“I don’t need friends here,” Obsidian’s tone hardened up once again. “I’m just trying to do a job. That’s it.”

“That’s a little difficult to believe, but whatever the case may be, if you’re ever in the mood for a chat, feel free. Changeling or not, you managed to save a lot of lives on our mission, and that deserves a high amount of respect in my book, even if you didn’t get a single word of thanks for it.”

Moving a couple of compartments over, Obsidian explored the gym, finding several crew using the limited selection of equipment available. One pegasus flapped furiously in a wind tunnel. A diamond dog sat at a barbell station, securing as many weights to the bar as it could carry, before proceeding to use it as a dumbbell and putting three earth ponies to shame. At the opposite wall, a pair of griffons were using treadmills at a sprint, while three unicorns settled on light trots.

Several thudding sounds could be heard near the wind tunnel barrier. Hanging from the ceiling was a punching bag, at least a metre long. The visible hooves of a zebra could be seen behind the bag, and Obsidian could tell all four were dishing out serious punishment. In a powerful blow that caused every other crew member to stop and stare, they bore witness to Obsidian rolling out of the way, as the bag soared toward him.

“Apologies for that, Obsidian,” Shadow called out, trotting over to retrieve the bag. Balancing it on her back, she returned the bag to its mounting. “Shall I assume you’re here to take me up on my previous offer?”

Obsidian took a moment to recover from his amusement. “Originally, no. I was just checking the place out. Now, however? I’m curious to see what you can do.”

“As I you. Fortunately for us, the sparring ring is not booked today.”

Obsidian followed Shadow to a locker, retrieving some protective equipment. Each donned headgear, and protective boots, while the zebra clamped her jaw down on her mouth-guard. As the two passed through the ring’s ropes, some crew on surrounding equipment paused to watch the pair.

“Before we begin, any rules I should be aware of?” Obsidian asked, throwing his mouth-guard behind him after figuring out his fangs got in the way. “Any particular fighting style, or …?”

“Surprise me,” Shadow replied with a grin. “As for rules, I suppose just the standard ones about no mane or tail pulling, or hitting below the tail.”

“Sounds simple to me.”

Beginning their session, Obsidian and Shadow bumped hooves. Assuming low stances, the pair circled each other. Waiting for the zebra to make the first move, Obsidian analysed her every motion. The way her fore-hooves pressed gently against the floor. How her eyes fixated on his own, only to focus on other aspects of the changeling for mere moments before meeting gazes again. The way her ears locked on to him.

When it was clear Obsidian would simply continue circling, Shadow darted to the changeling’s side with explosive speed and lunged. Being lighter, Obsidian easily dodged. Rolling away, he wheeled around to find Shadow propelling herself from the ropes towards him. The resulting impact slammed Obsidian onto his back. Recovering, he sent Shadow airborne with an upwards buck against her chest. He returned to his hooves, ignoring a couple of boos and jeers from the ponies in a small group that gathered around the ring.

Sidestepping each other once more, Shadow crept closer, gradually closing the distance between the two. Making the first move again, Shadow attempted a quick jab. Without lifting a hoof, Obsidian simply avoided it.

“You know Obsidian, this isn’t much of a sparring session if I’m the one doing all the work here.”

“Just keeping it tactical.”

Another jab was sent Obsidian’s way. Leaning to the left, he dodged again, shooting his wings out. A forward flap of his left wing, and a backwards flap of his right initiated a sharp twist of his body. Pivoting on his front left hoof, his hind legs swept across Shadow’s remaining fore-hoof. Left with no time to react, the zebra hit the floor face-first. Swapping over to his right hoof, Obsidian returned to a guarded stance, crouching low as if ready to charge.

Shadow looked up at the changeling, far from amused. “Sweeping the hooves? Really?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Obsidian could see several bits being passed around. The growing crowd appeared to be taking bets, and more crew started tricking through the gym’s pressure doors. Two crew reclined in the nearby seats and shared popcorn. Returning his attention to Shadow, he waited for her next move. “I thought you wanted a surprise.”

Shadow pushed forward from the floor, closing the distance between the two. With a dull clunk, she head-butted Obsidian just below his horn, causing him to stumble back and onto his rump. Moments after recovering, Shadow disappeared, as if her body had turned to smoke and dispersed.

Obsidian’s eyes widened. “That’s a changeling spe—”

The zebra reappeared closer to Obsidian. Bipedal, Shadow delivered a left hook to the changeling’s face before he could move, following through with a roundhouse kick that left a vapour trail, sending him tumbling to the side of the ring.

Shadow leaned on the ropes with a hoof, wearing the slightest hint of a smug expression. “How’s that for a surprise?” she shouted over the cheering crowd, before appearing more concerned. “Are you still okay to continue, Obsidian?”

“Okay? This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time!” Obsidian exclaimed, rising to his hooves and facing the zebra once more. “We’re just getting started!”

“Good. I was wondering when you’d stop holding back!”

“Sorry for the damage caused. I think we both got carried away,” a bloodied Shadow apologised between short breaths. She stood beside an equally battered Obsidian, both of whom caused a great deal of chaos after slamming the changeling onto the floor with enough power to collapse the ring. “Can we assist with any repairs?”

“Commander, that was the best damn thing I’ve seen in any fighting ring!” one of the deck engineers boomed. Several power tools floated beside him in his magical aura. “Hay, after this, I’m getting it bolstered! I think we ought to host a few fight nights and have you two participate.”

“No thanks. I’m not here for your entertainment,” Obsidian replied, casually pulling a loose fang out.

“Pity. It was fun seeing you get walloped.”

Obsidian leaned forward. “Then perhaps you might wish to join me one day in the ring.”

“I believe Obsidian and I were”—Shadow gently pushed the changeling back from his chest—“equally matched. Neither of us came out on top over the other.”

“If you say so. Well, I better get to it!” the unicorn revved his drill twice and headed towards the ring’s remains.

Obsidian waited for the unicorn to move out of earshot. “You're an elemental then?”

Shadow grinned. “You picked up on that, did you?”

“Hooves don't move that fast without magic,” Obsidian stated. “Natural abilities, or trained?”

“Some of the former, most of the latter.”

“Just air, or other elements, too?”

“All four. I favour the flame, though.” Shadow demonstrated with a small flicker against her upturned hoof. “Has the most practical applications after water.”

“Right. Well, it’s not every day you meet a zebra with more than just alchemy at their disposal. Where did you learn the changeling spell, though?”

“Classified information,” came Shadow’s terse reply. After a moment of silence, she looked at the fang still in Obsidian’s hoof. “So …”

“They grow back in a few weeks.”

As dinner time for Obsidian approached, he returned to the galley, perusing the open buffet. Supporting his tray on a wing, he approached the emptier table, and sat with his back turned to everyone else. Hearing a familiar voice, he turned to find Glare with a tray of her own, thanking a chef. Scanning the area for seats, a small smile grew on her face upon sighting the changeling. After closing the distance, she noticed Obsidian’s injuries.

Glare sat opposite to Obsidian. “Wow, what happened to you? Does that have to do with the incident I heard about earlier on?”

“Shadow and I decided to have a sparring match in the gym. I think we both got a little too into it.”

“Ah. I figured the rumour about you attacking somepony in your quarters was false.”

“Attacking some—oh.” Obsidian’s expression instantly changed. “Is that what’s been spreading around the ship then?”

“Seems to be.”

The changeling drew out a long sigh and stabbed his salmon with unnecessary force. “I swear, my patience is starting to wear thin with you ponies. When something bad happens, we blame the bug creature. We don’t trust the giant insect because its kind did bad things to us a long time ago. We need to keep an eye on that monster in case it goes on a rampage!” he mocked. “They’re all staring right now, aren’t they? Behind me. I can feel it!”

Without warning, Obsidian whipped around and let out a screeching snarl at his audience, ensuring they each got a good view of his wide-open jaws. In audible unison, every single pony snapped back towards their meals.

“That probably didn’t help,” Glare stated the obvious, as Obsidian turned back around and ripped through the rest of his meal.

Rubbing his temples, he sighed, “I know. I just needed to let that out. I’m fine now, I’m fine.”

As chatter in the galley slowly picked up once more, another frustrating thought came to Obsidian. “Why are ponies so ridiculously stupid?”

Glare froze mid-drink. “Hmm?”

“Present company excluded, of course,” the changeling quickly added. “I’m just trying to understand the thought process so many of you have. Shunning the unknown, afraid of the different, and ridiculously stubborn. This isn’t an opinionated viewpoint either. I used to keep tabs on some smaller towns in Equestria, and I recall at one point the entire town of Ponyville was afraid of a zebra. A single zebra! They barricaded their homes when she came through the town!”

Glare spoke between mouthfuls of salad. “Yeah, the smaller towns can be a little … quirky.”

“Now there’s an understatement. Appleoosa was another town I had been assigned to for intel. Your kind invaded buffalo land and practically went to war to keep what was rightfully theirs. I’ll admit, I learned a few new ways to weaponize apples, but really now. And forget small towns. Celestia herself was distrustful of us from the moment she learned of our existence. Thought our ability to blend in was a threat to national security, and our need for emotional energy was a destructive cancer. Her words, not mine.”

“Look, I can’t speak for Princess Celestia, but regarding the changeling race, you have to understand you all look intimidating. I mean, really intimidating. The fangs, the holes, the glowing eyes … It’s unnerving,” Glare explained, pausing as Obsidian snorted. “Hey, it’s like you said; present company excluded. Anyway, combine this with changeling history, and you can see why many might not see you guys in a positive light. Ironic though, isn’t it? Soldiers taking orders, just like us in the Navy, yet nopony stops to wonder whether it should have been just Chrysalis our anger needs to be directed at.”

“There’s more to that invasion than most know,” Obsidian mumbled, idly poking the last chunk of his meal with his fork. “Though I’d rather not talk about it.”

“If you’re not comfortable discussing it, I understand. Point is, you guys haven’t exactly made a good first impression. While I’ll admit many of us can be rather stubborn at times, every action you make that goes against everypony’s perception of a changeling will make an impact. Sure, the impact of one good action might not count for much. It also doesn’t help that an equally negative one would have more of an impact on others’ opinions. You will however, see a difference if you keep proving you are better than what others think, even if it’s a slow process.”

Unconvinced, Obsidian scoffed. “As much as I’d like to believe that, the cynic and sceptic in me is having a hard time agreeing. Even if that’s all true, I think by the time any difference does come around, the pony I supposedly attacked would have probably died of stress, or some sort of fear-induced medical condition, the stupid beta-male. I don’t think he’s going to want to return to my quarters any time soon.”

“That bad, huh?”

“He begged me not to eat him.” Obsidian took a moment to down the rest of his drink. Setting his glass aside, he huffed. “Fills me with great confidence that he’s apparently ops crew in the command centre.”

Glare remained silent, lost in thought as she chewed the last of her salad. “You know, I could probably do with changing quarters,” she finally spoke up. “Perhaps it might help him out. What are your quarters like?”

“Huh?”

“Are the others sharing your space loud or quiet? Clean or messy? That sort of thing.”

“Uhh, I guess the other eight are fine. Three griffons, three earth ponies, and two unicorns. Haven’t given them much thought. As far as I’m concerned, if I don’t have to deal with them, I’m happy. Why would you want to swap quarters, anyway?”

“Most of the ones I’m with had gone to training together, so they’re constantly socialising loudly and disrupting my sleep with … whatever it is they’re doing in the common area. To make matters worse, they leave uniforms and pressure suits all over the floor. I kid you not, they were bowling with their helmets! Ugh, the mess in my quarters is unbelievable, and when I confronted one of them, she simply dismissed my thoughts, saying I’m a neat freak who needs to”—Glare air quoted—“chillax. I don’t think I’d ever want to visit her place planet-side. Mind you, I doubt I’d want to associate with anypony whose vocabulary includes ‘chillax’.”

Obsidian was bemused. “Glaring Light, you’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Yep. I can prove it as soon as I figure out who I should contact regarding this matter.”

“Eclipse seems like a good bet. At least, he’s the one I talked to about this earlier on.”

“Then that’s my next stop. I’ll see you around.” Rising, she levitated her meal tray and left, calling back behind her, “And just call me Glare. I hate my full name.”

Obsidian watched from his bed as Glare unpacked her belongings. Her slow, methodical process contrasted starkly with the blurry rush of Crux’s when he was discharged by the medic and returned to his quarters to hear the good news.

After Glare retrieved the last of her belongings, she finally removed her BPS with a satisfied sigh. “You have no idea how itchy this thing gets when you have a mane as long as mine stuffed inside,” she whispered.

“I’m surprised you can fit it in there at all,” Obsidian commented. “Also, you don’t need to be quiet and creep around, you know. Fairly certain the others are all out on duty, or on deck four.”

“Ah, right. Sorry, I didn’t want to get off on the wrong hoof with the others.”

The pair fell into silence while Glare continued organising her storage spaces. Eventually, Obsidian spoke up after Glare caught him looking at her flank, “So, if I may, what exactly does your cutie mark signify? I mean, with most ponies I can get some understanding of their talents, but a sun surrounded by … what are those? Glyphs?”

“Eh, it’s supposed to be my talent in ancient magic, specifically relating to light, but that doesn’t say too much. Near impossible to cast anything meaningful.”

“So what can you cast with it?”

“A couple of things. I can create directed lighting to illuminate things at distances well beyond the standard spell. It also has no light source to it, so I don’t reveal myself in the process. Never needed that aspect of the spell though. I usually just use it for reading, though mostly as practise, since standard lighting spells are easier to cast anyway.”

“Seems rather pointless,” the changeling stated bluntly. An annoyed flick of Glare’s tail was her only response. “What?”

“No need to remind me,” Glare grumbled. “Anyway, I can also bring up a … well, it’s what you fell through. A barrier … cylinder … bubble thing. It’s a nice privacy spell. Sound can’t enter or leave, so I can block out distractions, and it feels nice and warm inside.”

“I guess I was too busy body-slamming your book to notice the heat. What was with that humming noise though?”

“Don’t know. I guess that’s just how the spell works.” Shrugging, Glare continued transferring her belongings from her bed to her drawer. “A by-product or something, like the sound our horns make when casting spells. I find it relaxing. I’ve never actually understood the markings on the spell though.”

“Markings? I don’t recall seeing them.”

“Of course. They were on the floor, but I suppose the table was in the way. Okay, I’ll cast one in front of you.” As Glare lit her horn, the changeling sat upright to watch. A golden orb materialised above her head. Flicking her horn, she flung the orb at the floor, conjuring up a gold circle large enough for two or three ponies to stand in. At the same time, a quiet mix between a hum and windy howl accompanied simple patterns of circles and triangles rotating slowly at the base, while a pillar of light radiated outwards, forming a cylinder with a faded top. Eventually, Glare dismissed the spell, and both light and sound faded.

Obsidian spoke up after a few seconds of silence. “Huh. That was definitely interesting.”

“It’s also supposed to work as a shield, but I’ve never been able to make it strong enough to withstand anything significant when they tested me during training. Oh, and there’s also some sort of light manipulation spell I’ve been trying to learn, but I don’t think I ever got it to work. Has something to do with refraction, but that’s about all I know. Don’t think I’ve seen anything happen any time I’ve cast it, so I guess I’ve still got lots to learn. Not that there are many surviving books on ancient magic.” Glare returned to unpacking her belongings. “Whatever. So how about you, then? Surely you must have some sort of talent, no?”

“Eh, we ‘lings are similar to each other”—Obsidian fell back onto his bed—“Physiologically speaking, we excel at close combat, striking fast enough to make up for our inability to strike hard. We work well with illusory magic obviously, able to project anything similar to our size as a disguise. As for other magic, apart from being able to feed off emotions, we would need large numbers to make our offensive spells cause significant damage. I suppose with all this, I must have been a cut above the rest if I was chosen as the first of my kind here.”

Finishing up, Glare slid her drawers closed and sat herself near Obsidian’s bed. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask about that. How does the whole feeding thing work? I assume changelings can consume normal food as well, right? I mean, you were eating right in front of me, and I’m guessing that wasn’t just for show.”

“No point having teeth if we didn’t. We can harvest different types of emotions either for our own consumption, or to store for other ‘lings. Emotions usually provide a more effective form of sustenance as it is almost pure energy and can, to an extent, substitute for oxygen. One ‘ling could theoretically provide for … maybe between fifty to a hundred others over a couple of months if rationed, but that would have to be one busy ‘ling having a really good day.”

“So how is that different to how the new changeling hive distributes their energy? Isn’t it true they all changed from what you look like, to those colourful variations after sharing all their energy?”

“It is, but there’s more to it. Considering they don’t take energy from others anymore, any shared energy is mostly converted from food. Since food is in abundance, sharing energy among those ‘lings has become less common.”

“That brings me to you and your—”

“I know what you’re going to ask, and the answer is that we’d lose more than we’d gain from sharing our energy. Sharing everything makes the entire unit stronger through weakening many of the individuals, though depending on who you ask, that’s highly debatable. I don’t believe their energy distribution methods are efficient. Some ‘lings don’t need, or deserve the same amount as others. A crude analogy would be the differences between a socialist and a capitalist society. Surgeons are more important than cashiers, so you reward them accordingly, not equally. Or that it weeds out the weak.”

“I … think I understand what you are trying to say? Okay, another question, if we want to get hypothetical here …” Glare hesitated, trailing off for a moment. “If you can drain a pony of their emotions, and give them to other changelings, could you also give those emotions back to the pony you took it from as well? Or give them more than what they started with?”

“Uhh, maybe? Should be theoretically possible. I don’t think anyling has been in a situation warranting such a thing, though. Feeding isn’t harmful to an individual for small extractions.”

“Could you do something like that to me if I agreed to it?”

“What?” The confused changeling turned to Glare. “Why?”

“I’m curious as to what it would feel like if you transferred some of those emotions to me. Would I get moody? Are there differences in the types of emotions you can give or take? Would I feel like I just demolished a four-course meal?”

Obsidian fidgeted. “I’m … not sure I feel comfortable with this.”

“Why not? You can do just a tiny bit, can’t you? Please?”

“I—uhh …” Obsidian sighed, bringing himself upright again. “Fine, but just a tiny amount. And we do not speak of this to others, got it?”

Glare nodded.

“Good. Okay …”

Obsidian’s horn lit up with a faint green aura. As if liquid had evaporated from every part of his body, the similarly coloured cloud of energy coalesced. Making its way towards the unicorn, the energy washed over Glare, until it was absorbed into her own body. “Well?” Obsidian asked, watching a rather goofy smile spread across the mare’s face as she practically melted onto the floor with her eyes rolled up.

“W—wow. I feel so … What’s the word for this?”

“Assuming your experience is identical to the younglings when they get their first taste, I’d say euphoric.”

“Mmm, that’s certainly accurate!”

“So, you want me to balance you out again, or—”

“No, no, let’s see how long this lasts for,” Glare interjected, seating herself upright. “Might as well see what happens, right? An experiment of sorts.”

“Uhh, sure, I suppose. Well, while you’re busy being high, anything else you’re curious about? Are we vampires? Do we have a hive mind? Can we really transform into anything? No to all three, by the way.”

“Huh. I always assumed you guys had a hive mind thing going on.”

Obsidian shook his head. “Nope. We’re completely independent. We do share a vague temporary connection to those we’ve distributed energy to, though,” he added, looking away for a moment with an odd look on his face.

Glare noticed Obsidian’s expression change. Suspecting a delicate topic, she changed the subject. “And the thing about transforming into anything? What did you mean by that?”

Obsidian looked back at the unicorn. “Well if we could change into actual dragons or ursa majors, Equestria would have been a pushover. No, our disguises are just elaborate illusions. Altering one’s physical form is a feat only my Queen and a few prodigies have been able to achieve. Regardless, the incredible amount of energy needed to initiate and sustain another physical form makes the spell impractical.”

“I never thought about it that way.”

Obsidian hummed. “Oh, before I forget”—he retrieved a pen and some paper from his drawers—“do you mind if I try to draw that glyph you made? I know a few ‘lings who studied ancient magic, theorising this field of magic might work better with our horns, but I don’t think much progress was ever made on that front. Surely the shapes have some meaning though. Maybe they might help.”

“I don’t see why not.” Facing the centre of the room, Glare cast her magic once again. As her orb hit the ground, a significantly larger circle appeared, with an intricate pattern of triangles, lines, and circles accompanied by a louder, higher pitched sound. The column of light radiating outwards did so multiple times, this time with enough force to knock loose items away with each pulse. In her surprise, Glare’s concentration broke, and the spell disappeared a few seconds later, leaving minor burn marks on the floor and filling the room with the smell of light smoke.

The pair were dumbfounded. Obsidian did not notice his pen had flown behind him. Glare’s short-fringed mane had been blown completely backwards along with the rest that typically draped behind her. An unusual silence fell, as one last piece of paper danced through the air and finally landed beside the bathroom door.

“What. The buzz. Just happened?”

10: Research

The brief events in the confines of Obsidian’s quarters had triggered silent alarms of smoke and heat sensors, alerting the command centre and damage control teams. Within moments, a small group with fire-fighting equipment found themselves investigating the cause, and subsequently, Obsidian and Glare ended up providing a summary of the magical incident to Quasar and Eclipse in the command centre.

“Well, that’s new,” the amused Captain commented, not bothering to upright his seat during the explanation. “So you’re basically saying it was like magic on steroids or something?”

“A gross oversimplification, but”—Glare shrugged—“sure, magic on steroids. Sir.”

“You know, a discovery like this might be worth passing on to our research division,” Eclipse suggested. Unlike the Captain, he stood in front of Obsidian and Glare, listening intently to the curious phenomenon. “Might be able to figure out how to conjure up more powerful magic. Considering our upcoming escort assignment with Aurora, we have no foreseeable need for infiltration ops. We could get them transferred for the duration of the mission.” Looking to the Captain for approval, he received a nod, and turned to Obsidian and Glare once more. “I’ll give you the details later. Now, get your quarters fixed up and presentable.”

“Oh, one other question, Chief,” the Captain called out to the changeling as he and Glare made for an exit. “You said you gave some of your stores of emotional energy to the Deckhoof. So is that like the changeling equivalent of taking somepony out to dinner?”

It was at that point Obsidian truly appreciated a changeling’s ability to conceal a blush, though Glare found herself at a severe disadvantage. Without missing a beat, Obsidian replied, “I think a more suitable analogy would be treating her to a home-cooked meal, sir.”

A wheezy laugh left the Captain. “Didn’t know your kind had a sense of humour. Alright, get out of here.”

Beet red, Glare retreated in a hurry. Obsidian followed, rolling his eyes. So much for not mentioning this to others.

“Welcome aboard Aurora,” an orange-coated unicorn greeted Obsidian and Glare shortly after a team of Aurora’s unicorns teleported the pair on board. “Commodore Corona. I serve as a member of Fleet Intelligence, though my secondary duties include overseeing Aurora’s research division. If you’ll follow me, I’d like to get started right away.”

Dismissing the unicorns that teleported Obsidian and Glare onto Aurora, Corona left the teleportation compartment with the pair in tow. The trio made their way up several decks, passing many crew that gave the three a wide berth.

Glare looked back at all the crew who avoided them. “What’s their problem?” She asked Corona. “Why were they all going out of their way to avoid us?”

“You mean aside from the fact that they’re all afraid of changelings?” Obsidian answered dryly.

“Oh. Right.”

“Chief, I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a contributing factor, but Amarok’s crew have started to earn a bit of a reputation throughout the fleets,” Corona explained.

Obsidian raised an eyebrow. “A reputation? For what? We haven’t even had the chance to earn one.”

“Given the unconventional nature of your ship’s operation, others think you’re all some secretive master assassins,” Corona explained, a hint of mockery behind her words. “It’s juvenile, I know, but a nickname has caught on pretty quickly. Everyone has started to refer to you and your fellow crew as the Silent Hunters.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Well, look at how the rest of our fleets operate. We go in loud and hard,” Corona clarified. “Even tactics involving strategic positioning and concealment end up with all guns blazing. Same applies for super-capital ships fitted with older cloak generators. Amarok on the other hoof? You guys can wipe out an entire fleet from inside or out, and leave no trace of your involvement.”

“Do you ponies not wait for something to prove itself, before giving it a reputation?”

Corona shrugged. “Meh. Just take the compliment and live up to it.”

“Doubt the two pegasi in my squad could live up to the silent part,” Obsidian scoffed. “They won’t shut up.”

“I’m aware of your squad-mates, Chief. They remind me of a pair I used to work with during the Harmony campaign.”

“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”

Corona did not answer immediately. “I suppose that remains to be seen. Capability was never in question. Attitude and mannerisms on the other hoof … ”

Arriving one deck above the hangar, the three continued heading aft of the ship, coming to a stop at a large pair of blast doors. Obsidian watched the red-maned pony as she swiped her VMUI over the nearby reader.

As two sets of doors slowly parted, Obsidian noted their excessive thickness, “What are you keeping in here that requires such security?”

“Security isn’t the issue. You have now entered Aurora’s research division. This entire section is designed to be isolated from the rest of the ship. It is self-contained, shielded from outside interference, and heavily armoured against internal catastrophes. Explosions, bio-hazards, chemical corrosives, you name it. If for whatever reason a threat cannot be contained, we could jettison ourselves to save the rest of the ship, without compromising the ship’s armour or pressure hull.”

As the three pressed on, Glare focused on the nearest room they passed. Looking through the window, she found several ponies and griffons in lab coats and gas masks around a fume cupboard, though with them obscuring Glare’s line of sight, she could not tell what they were working on. However, a glance at the room’s closed door revealed several large warning signs, labelled ‘spontaneously combustive’, ‘toxic’, and ‘corrosive’.

“What could be dangerous enough to warrant jettisoning an entire research lab?” Obsidian continued questioning Corona. “As opposed to just isolating it, that is.”

“Have you ever heard of an entity called the Beast? No? A long time ago, a Hiigaran mining vessel came across an object contaminated with a techno-organic subversion entity. Not that they knew what it was of course, but when it was brought aboard, the entity spread, rapidly hijacking both technology and flesh, resulting in a”—Corona shuddered—“gruesome, horrific death. The audio recordings still give me nightmares to this day, and I believe Princess Luna has visited them frequently enough for us to be considered close friends. Anyway, the infected module was jettisoned before the Beast spread, saving the rest of the mining vessel.”

Glare had been too busy inspecting the rest of the research division to listen in on Corona’s conversation. As the group moved across a small atrium, she looked up to find multiple decks littered with offices, labs, and fabrication facilities. One of the smaller rooms nearby contained a multicultural collection of crew, with at least thirty large sets of blueprints depicting what Glare assumed was a ship design. A pair of griffons appeared to be in a heated argument over some feature or component, evident by one continually pointing a talon at a particular part of the design’s flying saucer-like chassis.

Obsidian however, continued his discussion. “Taking over technology, huh? I guess it makes sense you’d want to keep such a thing contained where it could be ejected easily. So what happened to this Beast?”

“It left countless dead across the galaxy, but was eventually destroyed by that same mining vessel. Modifications to ships ensured immunity to further infections,” Corona finished, just in time to enter an empty room devoid of anything at its centre, with workbenches and various lab apparatuses against the walls. “Anyway, that’s all ancient history. We are here to see what you two have stumbled upon. Please, have a seat over there. Now, I would like the two of you to repeat the same actions you made in the time leading up to your little discovery.”

The pair did so. As they got into position, Corona kept a cautious distance while donning a lab coat, and a pair of safety goggles from a nearby workbench. Obsidian turned to Glare. “You ready?”

“Yeah, feed me.”

“Please”—Obsidian cringed—“don’t ever say that again.” Without waiting for a reply, he released a portion of his energy, and the unicorn received it, masking the ensuing bliss. Casting the augmented spell, Glare released the orb in the centre of the room, bathing it in golden light and once again knocking small loose objects away from the spell.

“Interesting,” Corona remarked as Glare stopped casting the spell, levitating fallen equipment from the floor and returning them to their original locations. “It might be premature, but from this brief observation, by channelling your energy into a unicorn, the recipient’s magical abilities appear to increase. I wonder if this also applies to the flight capabilities of pegasi, or the connection earth ponies have to nature … Or perhaps the tempers of griffons,” the officer laughed alone at her own joke.

Glare rose to assist with the clean-up. “See, I thought so too, but later I tried using a few random spells such as simple levitation, as well as a variety of defensive and offensive ones. I neither felt nor saw any difference with them. Only with my glyph spell was there any difference. I noticed I needed to put a little more effort into casting the spell than usual, but I didn’t think anything of it at the time.”

“Well, there goes my hypothesis.” Removing her goggles, Corona hung them back on a small hook. “Tell me more about this spell of yours. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it before.”

“When I was younger, I quickly developed a fascination for history, including ancient spells dating back to the pre-Equestrian tribes and earlier,” Glare began. “While it seems most magic referenced in history books lacked proper information to even make an educated guess as to how to cast them, there were a few spells, such as the one you just saw, with enough information. I can give you a list of the books if you'd like. Better yet, I’ve got copies of the books back aboard Amarok if you’d like to borrow them.”

“That would be much appreciated. Now if you’ll bear with me, I’m going to round up a few assistants to help with obtaining some readings. Get some cameras set up, a few sensors as well, then have you two repeat everything a few more times for consistent results. I’ll be back in a few minutes. There’s a pen and some paper in the drawer of the desk behind you. You can start on that list while I’m away.”

Glare stumbled out of the research division, exhausted. “Ugh, I am so done with this. I feel like my horn is about to fall off.”

“And I don’t think I was prepared to give away so much energy,” Obsidian replied, lumbering alongside the unicorn. “Any idea where the mess is? I need to raid the galley!”

“You’ll find it below the forward resource storage tank,” a soft voice answered around them.

“What? Who’s there?” Obsidian whipped around into a defensive stance, searching for the voice but finding none other than the unicorn beside him.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. My name is Fluttershy. I’m … sort of everywhere.”

“Flut—Wait, you’re the Fluttershy?” Glare called out.

“Umm … yes? I think. Maybe there’s somepony else with my name though?”

Obsidian leaned over. “Who’s Fluttershy?” he whispered.

Glare took a moment to recover from the shock. “Who’s Fluttershy? Seriously? How did you even get accepted here if you don’t know who the Elements of Harmony are?”

“Hey, I know of the Elements. Just not their names. Though come to think of it, I might have overheard her name the first time I was here. Off the top of my head, I also vaguely recall Apple … something, uhh, Dash Pinkie, and I know I definitely didn’t hear it right, but I’m going to go with Titty Sprinkle.”

“HEY!” Twilight’s voice boomed through the speakers along the corridor, causing Glare to jump. “For your information, it’s Twilight Sparkle!”

“And you forgot me,” Rarity joined in.

“Who?” Obsidian asked, in an apathetic tone.

“Rarity!”

“Whatever,” Obsidian raised his voice in response, before turning back to Glare. “So this Fluttershy, and those others are the ponies from that supercarrier Harmony, then?”

“We are,” Fluttershy answered for Glare. “But that was a long time ago. Now, would you like me to light the way to the mess deck for you?”

Glare tilted her head. “Light the way?”

Instead of explaining, Fluttershy chose to show the two what she meant. A line of tiny blue lights along the sides of the ceiling trailed away, illuminating a path towards the duo’s destination.

“Huh. Neat,” Obsidian commented. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re very welcome. If you’re quick enough, you might be able to reach the deck in time and head to the observation area before we exit hyperspace.”

“Any idea what we’re supposed to do now?” Obsidian leaned his back against a table and stared outside the observation window at the black hole cluster surrounding them.

Glare joined the changeling, levitating a bowl of salad beside her. “No clue. Somepony is supposed to come get us at some point, but it would have been nice if we were told when. Guess we’ve got nothing better to do than laze around for a bit.”

“Beats cleaning duty or security detail. Can’t complain about that.” Draining an entire pitcher of iced tea, Obsidian swirled the remaining contents of ice and lemon slices.

“I suppose not.”

Idly crunching on some remaining cubes of ice, Obsidian took in the view. “Where do you think we are, anyway?”

“Let’s see … Intense light from multiple accretion disks, jets of ionised gas emerging perpendicularly from event horizons … There’s only one place any galaxy would have such objects; the galactic centre. We’re at Balcora.”

“What are we doing in the galactic centre?”

Glare shrugged, swallowing her mouthful of vegetables. “Maybe the research crew want to gather data from the black holes?”

Obsidian squinted at a dot off in the distance. “Or, maybe we’re here for that thing.”

“What thing?”

The changeling pointed. “Right there.”

“I don’t—oh I see it now. Is that a ship?”

“Looks like it. We must be here for a meeting, or some sort of exchange.”

“At Balcora? Only our hyperspace cores can get any ship in or out of this place, and if I recall, the Hiigarans deactivated Balcora Gate when they decided to experiment with the gate’s power sources.” Glare frowned, squinting at the object as they drew closer toward it. Moments later, her face lit up in realisation. “Wait, no, that ship! That ship must be the Pride of Hiigara!”

“You’re going to have to explain a few things for me there.”

“The Pride of Hiigara was the Hiigaran mothership used during the Vaygr campaign many years ago. The campaign revolved around a race between the Hiigarans and Vaygr to secure a powerful ancient ship called Sajuuk, abandoned in this very system. After defeating the Vaygr, the Hiigarans abandoned the Pride, transferring their hyperspace cores and all crew over to Sajuuk, so they could hyperspace out. Seriously, you need to brush up on your history.”

“I don’t think we covered Hiigaran history in training. Or I wasn’t paying attention. Regardless, couldn’t they have just towed the mothership through hyperspace with them? I assume they didn’t just abandon the rest of their fleet.”

“Of course not. There just wasn’t enough power to take two mothership-mass vessels through hyperspace. The hyperspace cores are powerful, but even they have limits. They could probably tow heavier and higher quantities of ships under normal circumstances, but considering the super-massive black holes around us, I’d guess the immense gravity would be a hindrance. I’m not exactly well-versed in quantum physics, but I know gravity causes issues with hyperspace. That’s why gravity well generators and hyperspace inhibitors work at all. Stars and black holes are essentially natural grav-wells.”

“Huh.” Obsidian glanced at the remaining ice in his glass. Placing it against the table, another thought came to him. “Wait, I thought Sajuuk was that supposed god Harmony defeated.”

“Correct, though the ship was his namesake. This distinction seems to confuse everypony. Even more so, considering the final events of the Harmony campaign resulted in defeating Sajuuk in his ship, Sajuuk, which was an identical but different Sajuuk to the Sajuuk the Hiigarans acquired in Balcora.”

“That’s a lot of Sajuuk.”

“No kidding.”

The pair fell into silence, watching over the course of several minutes a group of ships dispatched from Aurora that made their way towards the derelict mothership. After a while, Obsidian changed topics. “You know, you don’t fit the profile of a typical soldier.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. You just seem so … out of place here. A fish out of water.”

“Well, I’m not big on hurting others, so you’re not wrong. I hate it here. As amazing as it is to be surrounded by such technology and see things like this”—Glare gestured at the view—“I’m only here because I had no other decent job offering. There’s not much of a demand for this,” her tone changed as she pointed towards her cutie mark. Sighing, she looked outside again. “They didn’t even offer me a more uhh, peaceful Navy role. ‘Operational requirements’, they called it. But I couldn’t turn it down. My little sister is … not doing so well. She’s stuck in the hospital with no signs of improvement, and I needed a way to support my family's expenses.”

“What’s the illness, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“The Doctors can’t say for certain, but they suspect myelitis, or some variation of it.”

“What’s that?”

“Has something to do with lesions on her nerve cells, blocking signals to her muscles.”

“Paralysis?”

“Sort of. It was a slow progression, so we didn’t think much of it at first. Whatever it is, it’s making her a tiny bit worse each week.” Glare sniffed, looking down as she wiped an eye. “Medication is slowing it down, but they’re just symptomatic treatments. My dad is using his life savings to pay hospital bills, medication, medication to counter side effects of medication, and he’s even gone so far as to track down famous doctors from other nations, all while supporting five others, excluding myself. But what he’s doing can’t be sustainable. He’s a wreck, working non-stop. When he found out what I was going to do … I think he’s disowned me.”

“For joining the Navy? I know he’s your dad, but he sounds like a buzzing prick to me.”

“I can’t fault him on his beliefs. My family and I have always abhorred violence. Never harmed a single thing in my life, and hope I never have to, but I thought—I hoped the money made from this job would help sustain my sister and ease the pressure on my dad. Maybe somepony will come up with a better treatment, or—or a cure.” Pausing, she wiped her other eye. “Advancements like this happen all the time, right? She just needs to hold on.”

“What about your mother? What does she think about all of this?”

“She died during the Canterlot invasion.”

“Oh. Sorry I brought that up. Believe me when I say it was never our intention to harm any civilians. The whole thing was—there were accidents and … I’m not exactly good at saying the right things in times like these.”

Glare sighed again. “Like I said before, you were just soldiers taking orders. Anyway, I appreciate you listening. Perhaps a more pleasant conversational topic is in order.”

“Excuse me,” the soft, omnipresent voice of Fluttershy returned again. “Sorry to bother you again. Corona wishes to speak with you both back in the research lab.”

“First of all, I want to thank you both again for putting such effort into assisting us earlier on. Come, come, I’ve got some interesting information here!” Corona ushered Glare and Obsidian into her office. Pouring herself a mug of tea from a nearby brewer, she turned to the others. “Can I get either of you a drink? Tea? Coffee? Water?”

“We’re fine, thank you,” Glare declined. “We just came from the mess deck.”

“Alright, I’ll get straight to it then. As soon as we were finished with our session earlier on, I sent a message back to Equestria to see if somepony there could round up a few leading figures on history and magic. I may have worded my message a little too urgently in my excitement, so before I knew it, I was sending messages back and forth with a few Doctors.”

“Uhh, why would you contact a Doctor about history?” Obsidian interrupted, visibly confused.

“She means Doctors of history and magic,” Glare clarified.

Corona nodded. “Precisely. So surprisingly, I managed to get a few answers already. Are you familiar with windigos? No? Well, according to the ancient scholar Clover the Clever, they were winter spirits that fed off fighting and hatred. Sort of like the opposite to a changeling feeding off love, now that I think about it.”

Obsidian raised a hoof slightly. “That’s a partially inaccurate statement. Love is a more potent preference, but any emotion will do for us.”

“Well, whatever the case,” Corona continued, “In early recorded history, windigos were more common before the unification of Equestria, and the events leading up to that moment. From the little we could piece together, fire and light were effective forms of defence against these creatures of ice and darkness, with the former used by the earth and pegasus tribes, and the latter used by the unicorn tribe.”

Corona started up a projector. “Ignoring the ancient celestial magic our Princesses possess, few ancient spells are known, and even fewer have been successfully cast in some form since those ages. Only two, to be exact. Historians have referred to them simply as ‘primal light’, and the ‘light glyph’. I believe you are familiar with the latter.”

“Light glyph?” Obsidian hummed. “Well, at least the name is straight and to the point. Sounds a little lacklustre though,” he commented, earning a glare from Glare.

“Lacklustre, perhaps,” Corona agreed, “But if the sources are accurate, you’re looking at a spell that is supposedly as hot as a star’s photosphere!”

“And you’ve been using it as a portable heater,” Obsidian quipped.

“So what about this other spell?” Glare ignored the changeling. “This primal light one.”

“Now this one is interesting.” Corona displayed several images on the projector, containing scans of textbook pages. “A purely offensive spell able to burn a clean hole through any known substance. Or at least, any known substance at that time. Some sources even state the surrounding air has caught fire as a result of casting such a spell, though these reports seem inconsistent and in my opinion, improbable. Given the right conditions, perhaps the surrounding atmosphere might undergo fusion, but still highly unlikely. We’re getting sidetracked, though. That’s irrelevant.”

“What does it look like?”

“The spell? Got a picture in one of these—ah! Here. You can see a straight beam of light from the caster to the windigo. The beam appears to be surrounded by a double-helix, though whether that’s an artistic recreation, or if there is some higher purpose to the helix is unknown.”

Obsidian stared at the projection. “Didn’t you say you could cast a directed beam of light, Glare? What if it’s like the glyph spell, and you’ve simply been using an under-powered version of a solar cannon as a spotlight?”

Glare was unsure. “I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”

“I’m quite curious, myself. Let’s meet where we conducted our previous tests.” Rising from her seat, Corona made for the exit. “I had a solid block of resource units stored away somewhere. We can use it as a target for you. Give me a moment. In the meantime, you two can get ready and carry out your energy transfer thing.”

A few minutes passed after Obsidian and Glare returned to their former testing grounds. Corona alerted the two to her presence by wheeling in a silvery-blue cube chained to a heavy-duty hoist. An almost deafening noise caused all three to jump and cover their ears, when Corona accidentally released the hydraulic arm’s pressure too quickly, smashing the chained cube onto the ground. “Sorry, sorry, that was not intentional. It’s easy to forget resource units are almost twenty-three tonnes per cubic meter. Now then, shall we begin?”

Facing the metallic cube, Glare aimed her horn at the target. Furrowing her brow in concentration, her horn lit up for only a fraction of a second before it released a perfect replica of the textbook’s image. Bathing the room in gold, the spell flashed into existence, connecting the unicorn to her target with a resounding boom that shook the lab. As quickly as it came, the spell faded half a second later, leaving only a mild ringing in everyone’s ears.

“Well, well, it seems you have revived another ancient spell. Let’s see what the results are …” Corona swiped several instruments from a nearby workbench and crouched down at the sizeable crater in the cube. “Fascinating! You’ve completely vaporised the material. Perfect circular cross-section, parabolic tapering at the end. Suggests energy density of beam is highest at its centre. Hmm … Point one-one meter radius, point nine-six meter depth, give or take. Surrounding material is warm, but not hot. This is amazing! A little frightening as well. A few repeated strikes, and you could easily pierce the pressure hull of this vessel.”

Obsidian snickered. “Probably a good thing we tested that now, than to have you find out by blasting a hole through a book in the galley, huh Glare?”

“In more ways than one,” Corona replied. “I—huh, the room warmed up as well, didn’t it? Will have to confirm that. Anyway, I’m needed on the bridge in half an hour. Would the two of you mind meeting me back here in … exactly four hours? I’d like to repeat some of our earlier tests with this second spell.”

Obsidian groaned, “Fine, but bring food. My energy has to come from somewhere. Doughnuts, cupcakes, anything with lots of sugar, preferably.”

11: Asteroid Accelerators

At the head of a briefing room filled with interceptor pilots, an officer of the Ninth Solar Fleet’s carrier Belenus paced slowly back and forth in an attempt to mask her shaky hooves and twitching wings. Clearing her throat, she continued with her briefing. “Approximately four hours ago, a brief distress signal was detected from a large mining installation designated Argon-Six, before going silent. As our fleet approached in response, we received the following audio message from a nearby planet. Specialist”—she looked towards a zebra at a nearby terminal—“if you please.”

“Yes, Commander Virga,” the zebra replied, pressing a button on his screen. Faint static filled the room for a few seconds, followed by a panicked male’s voice.

“To anyone receiving, we are the representatives of the Argon Colonies. A massive Turanic Raider fleet is attacking our orbital mining facility. Our defences have been destroyed, and the Raiders have moved in around the facility. We thought—we thought they were just after the resources, but they’ve take—taken control of our accelerators. Our observatories have confirmed the worst; two have already aligned with our planet. We’re transmitting their technical schematics on a separate channe—”

The hastily recorded message ended abruptly, replaced with loud screeching noises. “That”—Virga continued when the recording ended—“was all we picked up, before Raiders jammed the signal. From this recording, we have determined Argon-Six possesses devices that engulf asteroids and hurl them towards the installation for rapid processing,” she continued, while the zebra brought up images of large, hollow cylinders with five thin protrusions at each end that gave them the appearance of a star.

“Eh, another bunch of Taiidani getting whooped by Raiders,” a griffon seated in the last row called out, leaning back on his seat with his arms folded. “So what’s new then?”

The officer’s eyes pierced the offending griffon’s own. “Your apathy has been noted, Lieutenant. And for future reference, the Argon colonies are an expeditionary group belonging to the Frerrn Aggregate. Regardless, ‘what’s new’, as you put it, is that this is no ordinary Raider attack. Now, unless there are any further interruptions …”

Virga nodded to the zebra, who continued displaying images. The first was of the installation itself; a six-sided structure with a domed top and flat bottom. Visible nearby were six accelerators, no more than a few hundred metres away. The second image was a tactical map of the surroundings; an area named the Demeter sector. As the map zoomed in, the facility and surrounding accelerators were highlighted, along with six additional accelerators further away in the asteroid belt orbiting the planet. Further still, was a blip indicating Ninth Fleet’s current position, hidden in the densest portion of the belt.

“After analysing the accelerators, we’ve come to a disturbing conclusion.” Pausing, the officer collected herself and reviewed a scribble of data on her notepad. “First, some facts. A ten klick diameter asteroid with a typical mineral composition is about one and a half trillion tonnes. Average planetary impact velocities are around twenty klicks per second, releasing the equivalent energy of a sixty million megaton detonation. At six hundred and fifty klicks per second, that energy can be released with asteroids a tenth in diameter. From the looks of things, the Raiders intend to strike the planet.”

The murmur of pilots filled the room. “What possible reason could the Raiders have for destroying a whole planet?” one of them called out.

“We’ve yet to establish a motive,” Virga answered, raising a hoof to silence the crowd. “Our best guess at present is that they are either experimenting with unconventional weapons the Elements of Harmony would be useless against, or they simply wish to do this as a show of power. No demands have been made by the Raiders.”

“Surely these accelerators aren’t designed to move asteroids at such speeds though, right?” another pilot asked. “There’s no way they’d be able to output that much power.”

“Not on their own, no. However, based on the data received, multiple overcharged accelerators working in series can provide the necessary force required for velocities estimated between two and three hundred klicks per second. Pilots, these accelerators are now considered super-weapons able to wipe out the population of an entire planet. We cannot allow the Raiders to possess them. Now, recon squads report the Raiders are towing the devices into place for alignment. Argon-Six managed to overload all engines before being overrun by boarding parties. With any luck, this significant delay to the Raiders’ plans may have given us the time we need to put a stop to this.”

Another tactical map replaced all previous images, highlighting several blips that indicated locations of known Raider presence. “At present, we have scouts monitoring the situation here, and here. No activity suggests we have been detected so far. Despite time being against us, we cannot go up against a force that size, so we’ve been instructed to hold here until the Sixth Solar Fleet exits hyperspace near this collection of asteroids. Once they finish engaging the frig line there, the role of Fleet Command will be transferred to their flagship, the supercarrier Solstice, and Ninth Fleet with be under its command. In the meantime, I expect all of you in formation before they arrive. Questions?”

A zebra at the front raised his hoof. “I know civilians tend to exaggerate, but how massive is massive? What do the scouts report?”

“Hard to tell at this point. The sheer number of asteroids makes it difficult to be certain. One Rancor-type command carrier and three Vindicator-type light cruisers patrol Argon-Six’s perimeter”—Virga traced a circle around the relevant location on the map—“each with Dagger escorts. Additional Daggers guard each accelerator, and a line of them patrol the wider area. Additionally, Thief-type ‘vettes have been sighted in large numbers. Our torpedo frigs will keep them at bay to avoid potential boarding parties, but keep an eye out for any generating illusory fields.”

“Easier said than done.”

“I know, pilot. I know. Their dual turrets aren’t typically an issue at close range, but their thick armour may keep you busy long enough for Brigand-type ‘vettes to lock on with missiles. This may force you into the asteroids, where illusory Thieves may lie in wait. Expect Rock Rats to be lurking around asteroids, too. What those interceptors lack in agility is made up for in armour and firepower. Teleport when you can, but avoid navigating the asteroid fields if possible. Any other questions? Alright, dismissed.”

A golden-eyed pegasus conversed with her co-pilot aboard Solstice, as the pair climbed into their interceptor. “ … Oh, definitely. I love the grand entrance we’re gonna make though. Assuming Belenus’ coordinates are accurate, BOOM! Right in the middle of those frigs, hitting their weapons hard and fast! That ought to get the rest of the Raiders’ attention. Hey, you mind closing the canopy?”

“Sure thing, Lightning,” a chocolate-brown unicorn replied from the back seat, flipping the appropriate toggle switch. A pair of hydraulic actuators proceeded to pull the cockpit canopy down, the fluid in the nearby hydraulic lines audibly rushing through until the assembly fully lowered and locked into place with several clicks. Ensuring his readouts confirmed a good lock and seal, the stallion announced to the pegasus seated ahead and slightly below him, “Canopy secured. So what’s the deal with these accelerator things?”

“Eh”—Lightning Dust shrugged—“sounded like corporate manure to me. The miners didn’t want to pay some expensive license fee to use hyperspace in this territory, so they used some old tech to work around it. These accelerators were apparently early attempts at hyperspace gates, able to accelerate a fifteen tonne ‘vette halfway to light speed in ten femtoseconds, without turning the occupants into liquid. Of course, asteroids would still be much slower, but for the miners, it seems to work just fine.”

“Somehow I doubt they’d agree at this particular moment.”

“Probably not. Okay Streak, since we got a little time, I’m going to do something completely unheard of, and follow the full checklist. Hatches and harnesses?” Lightning Dust began, simultaneously inspecting her harness, tightening two of the straps on her five-point restraint until the rotary buckle was centred low and tight.

“Following procedure? Listen, changeling, I’m on to you!” Streak announced, tugging on his restraints for good measure, before adding, “Secured.”

“Ha! No changeling could replicate me! Circuit breakers?”

The stallion ran a hoof over the circuit breaker panel. “In and un-tripped. And yeah, fair point. Just getting your ego down perfectly would be a challenge.”

“You call it ego, I call it honesty. Best damn fighter pilot, and you know it! Oxygen?”

“Tanks are full, and so is your ego.”

“Gonna have to come up with something more creative, Streak. Instruments?”

“Nav one reference set to Solstice, nav two set to Balcora, radio frequencies set and standby.”

“Lights?”

“Beacons on”—Streak confirmed a soft red flash could be seen as it reflected off the hangar walls, then checked the steady red port and green starboard lights—“nav lights on.”

“Right, let’s get serious. Bringing engines online. Number one …”

Flipping the red guarded switch of the first engine from OFF to SBY, Lightning monitored her engine instruments as the interceptor performed its diagnostics. As soon as the engine readings stabilised, she repeated the process for the remaining three.

“Okay, engines look good. Power bank?”

“Online, charged at capacity.”

Lightning stroked her fiery mane back and slid her helmet on. “Pressurisation?” she continued, while ensuring her BPS made a good seal with the helmet.

“Cabin depressurising to zero decimal one standard atmosphere. System shows our BPSes holding at one atmosphere.”

“Controls?”

“Manoeuvring ports operative. Full, free movement of thrust-vectoring nozzles.”

“HUD status?”

“Target assist software online, combat scanners online, primary flight display online.”

“Weapon systems?”

“Autogun spin-up successful, targeting calibrations complete.”

“Cautions, nil. Warnings, nil. Just in time to drop out of hyperspace.” Holding down a button on her radio stack, Lightning spoke into her headset’s microphone, “Solstice hangar, interceptor Mike Romeo Charlie ready for combat departure, bay six-two, request radio check.”

“Good morning Mike Romeo Charlie, readability four over five,” the voice of a controller cracked slightly through Lightning’s earpiece, while the shriek of ion cannons began reverberating throughout the vessel. “Line up, position niner behind the scout. Call sign four-two.”

“Readability five, niner behind scout, Lightning four-two,” Lightning Dust read back to the controller. The access tunnel sealed around the interceptor’s canopy detached, retracting up and away from the vessel. Decoupling her fighter from the bay, Lightning lined up behind the scout and waited for her turn to launch. “Call sign is a two once again,” she mumbled. “Every single time. I hate twos.”

“Is this about that Wonderbolts wingpony thing again? Because if it is … Dude, you need to let that go already. It’s been how many years now? Besides, I’m sure this is much better than some aerial circus.”

“The whole thing was a load of manure, Streak. It’s the principle! And the annoying remarks about ‘Lightning flying a Lightning’ are really starting to get old,” she seethed. “Oh, and to top things off, got rejected yet again for the Shiry programme, in favour of some higher-up’s cousin, the bucking twat.”

“Okay, don’t rip my head off, jeez.”

“Lightning four-two, cleared for combat departure,” the controller’s voice returned once more. “Be advised, anti-capital hostiles three o’clock low.”

“Hostiles three low, cleared for departure, four-two,” Lightning grumbled. Shoving her throttle fully forward, the irate pegasus sent her interceptor shooting out of the supercarrier faster than permitted for launches. Clearing the launch path, she banked left and joined the delta formation of interceptors marked on her CNS, opening her comms once more. “Lightning four-one, four-two joining formation on your port.”

“Howdy four-two, got a visual on you. Set squad comms to one-six-six and stand by.”

Lightning Dust did so, following the rest of the interceptors until they were well clear of the initial battle. Surveying the scene nearby, several Daggers were already hacked to pieces and drifting lazily, still glowing white-hot where the fleet’s heavy weapons cut through. Only one of the eight frigates managed to fire for a moment, though to no effect, as the shielding crew aboard Solstice had conjured up their protective barriers in time.

“Immediate area secured. Stand by for mission update,” the Fleet Intelligence stallion aboard Solstice announced, soon after the final frigate was destroyed. “Multiple capital ships and their escorts guard each accelerator. In addition, the accelerators are directly controlled from the Argon-Six installation. Marines will be required to storm the complex and disable the accelerators. Ninth Fleet will slip in from behind, using dust clouds and asteroids as cover to capture Argon-Six, while we commence a head-on assault to distract hostiles or eliminate the accelerators. Be advised, estimated time until accelerator alignment: Four-seven minutes.”

“Hey. Hey Streak,” Lightning Dust called behind her, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. “Should I say it?”

Streak took a few seconds to understand what the pegasus was talking about. He groaned. “No Lightning, please don’t.”

“I’m gonna say it.”

“Don’t you da—”

“Gonna say it!”

“Stop—”

“This sounds like a simple mission to me!” Lightning blurted out in the most obnoxious tone she could make.

Streak let out a long sigh. “Why must you always tempt fate like this?”

“’Cause I don’t believe in fate. Plus I enjoy watching you squirm.”

Fleet Intelligence’s voice cracked through comms again, “Sensors detect incoming strike-craft emerging from asteroid fields. Stand by for updates …” he paused. “Counting six-nine fighters closing in on attack vectors.”

“Nice,” one pilot replied.

“Nice,” another joined in.

“Nice,” a third added

“Nice.”

“Next pilot that says nice will be on a month-long MRE diet! Rock Rats sighted. Lightning one-one reports visual contact with hostiles. Awaiting orders.”

“Lightning squads one through eight, cleared to engage hostiles, standard spread,” Solstice replied.

“Alright Streak, weapon systems armed. Textbook engagement. Wait ‘till you see their muzzle flashes.” Lightning tightened her grip on the control stick, while Streak’s horn lit up in anticipation as the pair closed the distance. “Firing range in four, three, two, one … go!” she signalled, as Streak teleported the interceptor with a flash.

*BRRRRR*“RRRRR—”

“Streak, shut up!” Lightning yelled, as she unleashed a succession of rapid-fire bursts from directly behind the unsuspecting target, ripping through its engines and causing it to yaw violently to port as she tore deeper through the fighter. “Good hit. No kill.”

“Fighter on our tail!”

“I see it. Defending. Breaking starboard.” Rolling ninety degrees, Lightning pulled the stick back hard, sending her ship into a tight turn. Overturning, the nimbler interceptor drifted radially and returned fire, leaving a trail of holes against the side of the fighter. Seeing atmosphere and debris billowing out, Lightning sped off elsewhere, leaving the disabled Raider to tumble into an asteroid.

Solstice came through comms once more, “Sensors picking up capital ships emerging from the asteroid field. Rancor with seven Daggers, one-six Brigands, and two-two Thieves. Torpedo destroyers Swarm and Hive, engage ’vettes at long range, priority to Thieves. Battlecruisers Equinox and Nighthawk, draw capital ships further away from asteroids.”

While the strike-craft from both sides engaged each other, along with half of Sixth Fleet’s frigates providing fire support from afar, the larger capital ships broke away with their frigate escorts to deal with the newcomers. As the two capital ship groups converged, the ships of Sixth Fleet brought up their individual shields and moved in to close range around the Raider vessels, keeping clear of the carrier’s forward-mounted dual ion cannons.

“Lightning four-four hit. Got three on my tail,” Lightning heard over comms. Her CNS indicated four-two ahead and below, heading across her field of vision. Sliding out in another tight turn, Lightning headed towards her squad-mate, landing multiple direct hits on the cockpit of a pursuing fighter and cutting in front of the remainder to draw fire. Splitting away, the two interceptors took opposing circular paths, each chased by a fighter, until the interceptors found themselves head-to-head on collision courses. At the right moment, both teleported away, causing the Raiders to plough into each other.

The radio chatter began to intensify on the main channel. “Solstice, be advised, Destroyer Swarm observing what appears to be a new type of ion cannon turret mounted dorsally aboard the Rancor. The beam is phased and has penetrated our shields multiple times.”

“Understood, Swarm. What is your situation?”

“No reports of damage so far. We assume our shields mitigate the—wait, what the—we can’t manoeuvre the ship. Our controls are dead!”

“What’s going on over there?” Streak looked out towards the direction of the capital ships. The Raider carrier appeared to be firing an unfocused purple beam at Swarm from a small turret mounted on the dorsal hull.

“No idea,” Lightning Dust replied, returning to formation with her squad-mates. “But I’m guessing that wasn’t an ion cannon. EMP weapon?”

“Solstice, Swarm reporting multiple system failures. Engines are down. Nav systems—hey wha—what is—oh nonoNO!”

Without warning, all twenty-six torpedo tubes burst open, and torpedoes began pouring out. The first few exploded upon impact with Swarm’s shield, until it broke apart and allowed the rest to streak towards nearby targets, which, according to Swarm’s weapons station, were Equestrian.

“Swarm, what the hay are you playing at? Solstice, flak frigate Cumulus reporting both turrets down. Multiple sections vented.”

“We didn’t do anything! The ship is—it’s like it’s acting on its own. Everypony get clear! I think the carrier did this.”

“Brigand on our tail, Lightning!”

“All capital ships within range of the unknown weapon, reposition underneath the carrier. Other nearby vessels to retreat into the asteroid belt,” Solstice ordered. “All torpedo frigs, target the turret at maximum range.”

“Missile lock! Missile lock!” Streak shouted, as Lightning narrowly evaded the weapons of a nearby missile corvette.

“Then bucking flash us out of here!”

“My horn is killing me as it i—”

“Those missiles will do that for us if you don’t get me behind that ’vette!”

“There!” Streak winced with another teleport, a sharp pain shooting through his skull.

“Finally.” Strafing the missile corvette’s engine block, Lightning flew overhead and pierced the cabin from above. “Was that so hard?”

“Fleet, Swarm reporting another salvo loaded. Damn ship is reloading the tubes on its own. Can we get some interceptors to shoot down our torpedoes?”

“Request approved, Swarm. Lightning squads four and five, break off attacks and intercept torpedoes from Swarm.”

“Oh this is going to be fun!” Lightning Dust rubbed her hooves together, a manic look in her eyes. Pointing her interceptor straight at Swarm, she zoomed past formations of Thieves, effortlessly dodging their turrets. Levelling off, she skimmed the side of the rogue destroyer’s hull, and chased a trio of torpedoes headed for one of the battlecruisers. “I call that work of art the Ballistic Ballet!”

“You’re a madmare, you know that?” Streak yelled, as blurs of glowing-hot metal narrowly missed them and ricocheted off Swarm’s hull.

Lightning smirked, as all three torpedoes took a small spray of rounds and ruptured. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Getting more missile locks!”

“Oh come on!”

“Watch the beam! Lightning! Pull up!”

13: Seeding

Obsidian set his meal tray down beside Sparky. The lone diamond dog’s table had been the natural choice after receiving the usual stares and glares from other crew in the galley. The pair exchanged wordless nods, before Sparky continued to pick clean a chicken drumstick. Obsidian started with his own food; a large sushi platter from the griffon buffet, each with varying contents from salmon and crab sticks, to more pony-friendly variants such as carrot and avocado. Small dishs of soy sauce, pickled ginger, wasabi complemented the main course.

Having never tried the green paste, the changeling reacted with a quick shake of his head and a series of sniffs, reaching for his glass of water at lightning speed. Returning to the rest of his meal, he looked up at Sparky. “You know, I’ve got a theory about why you never talk,” Obsidian broke the silence after swallowing his next bite.

Raising an eyebrow, Sparky gave the changeling a sidelong glance, before shifting attention back to his meal.

Swallowing another piece of sushi, Obsidian continued. “It’s not that you physically can’t. That much is obvious. The Navy wouldn’t allow you to serve otherwise. So I wondered why you would choose not to talk. Are you antisocial? No, that can’t be it. You display so many signs of an extrovert, and I’ve never picked up on any boredom, anxiety, or anything suggesting you’d prefer to be elsewhere, really. Then I noticed something else. Something that has been a constant for you. Longing. And fear.”

Sparky stopped chewing. Though he did not face the changeling, he paid attention to what was being said.

“For most here, longing is to be expected. We all miss home, so I dismissed yours initially. Though why would you be living in a constant state of fear? Couldn’t be related to the risks of the Navy. You’re too relaxed. What if … you choose not to speak, but wish you could, because you’re afraid? Though what of? Did you say something once that caused you to take a vow of silence? Or is it a fear your voice might—”

Sparky thumped a clenched paw on the table, with just enough force to rattle the cutlery. He leaned over to the changeling. “Stay out of my head,” he spoke quietly. The low rumble caught Obsidian off-guard, causing him to flinch. “Have I made your damn day?” Without waiting for a reply, Sparky took his tray and deposited it in a rack of used trays. Taking one final look at the changeling, he left the galley.

Obsidian sat in silence until Sparky was out of sight. “Huh,” he huffed. Shrugging, he finished off the last few pieces of his meal, glancing at his VMUI for the time. Realising he still had half an hour before he was meant to report for his briefing, Obsidian took a second helping from the buffet.

The changeling’s ears swivelled towards familiar voices at the opposite end of the galley. Looking over, he found the pegasus twins engaged in conversation with a griffon at the other table. Before he could look away, one of the twins made eye contact and beckoned Obsidian over.

Grumbling, the changeling took his tray and approached. Swift raised his voice, “Oi Shift! Guess you owe me those bits. Bug pony here is more social than you thought.”

Obsidian watched as Shift flipped a couple of coins over to his brother. “You were betting whether I’d come here?”

Shift nodded. “Yep. Though technically, those bits aren’t yours just yet, Swift. He’s gotta sit down and have a chat with us first!”

Obsidian stared down at the twins and sighed. “Fine. Not like I’ve got anything else to do,” he muttered, seating himself beside the griffon and placing his tray down in front of him.

The griffon looked over at the contents of Obsidian’s tray. “Sushi, huh? Good choice. I’d probably avoid the ones with salmon, though. I think I was the one who made those, which is a bit concerning, since my duty ended a few hours ago. Might have to go crack some skulls in a minute.”

Obsidian looked at the food in question. The rice did seem dry. “So you’re the ship’s cook?” he asked, turning back towards the griffon.

“One of ‘em. Name’s Syzygy. Syz, if you like.”

“That’s an unusual name for a griffon.”

“Hah! We’ve known each other for less than a minute, and you figured that out faster than these two! Yeah, I was born in Equestria, growing up in Manehattan. Worked in the food industry most of my life, but you piqued my interest. Never catered for changelings before.”

“None you were aware of, most likely,” Obsidian stated. “So what are these two talking your ears off about?”

“We were just telling Syzzy about a coupl’a pranks we used to pull, back when we were with the royal guard,” Shift explained.

Obsidian hummed. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Uhh, because it’s us? Come on, what else would the two most hilarious comical geniuses talk about?”

The changeling chewed on another piece of sushi. Pausing, he pushed the food aside in his mouth. “Was that meant to be a joke?”

“Yeah, ha-ha. You want a joke? Hmm …” Shift paused, and looked up at the ceiling. After a few seconds, he looked back at Obsidian. “Alright, what’s the first step in treating a changeling who got shot?”

“Figuring out which holes to close up,” Obsidian answered flatly. “Real original.”

“Hey, that was quality material off the top of my head! Let’s see you come up with something on the spot, then.”

Obsidian folded his hooves. “Fine. What do you call a royal guard who was attacked with pepper spray?”

“What?”

“A seasoned veteran.”

Syzygy choked on a glass of water. While he spluttered and laughed, Shift merely frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“My turn!” Swift exclaimed. “What happens when Obsidian runs out of ammo?”

The changeling rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. I bludgeon the enemy with the stick up my flank?”

“Oh come on!”

“Obsidian is in the lead, three-nil,” Syzygy provided commentary. “What else you got, Obsidian?”

The changeling shrugged. “I don’t know. Uhh, what do Equestrians do upon entering a firefight?”

Shift groaned. “I swear, if you’re going to say we run away—”

“Well, I was going to say give the nearest griffon their ammo, but hey”—Obsidian shrugged—“your words.”

“Ouch. Alright, Swift’s up,” Syzygy announced. “How about something that isn’t changeling-related?”

“Easy.” Swift stood up, and placed his fore-hooves on the table. “Let’s bring out the big guns. Shift, don’t answer this one. How do you knock a diamond dog unconscious while he’s drinking water?”

After a few seconds of silence, Syzygy spoke up. “Okay, I’ll bite. How?”

An almost evil grin was plastered on Swift’s face when he answered, “Slam the toilet lid down on his head.”

“OH!” a surprised Syzygy shouted as he recoiled, “I think that might have juuuuust crossed the line.”

“I specialise in borderline jokes,” Swift proclaimed with pride. “And jokes that have gone well beyond the line. Besides, say what you want, but you loved that one, and you know it!”

“Guilty as charged. Now, what were you saying earlier on about some pranks?” Syzygy quickly changed topics.

Swift sat back down. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, it was pretty much a weekly thing for us. I mean, we started out small, but at some point, I think we just wanted to see how far we could take things.”

“I was gonna ask,” Syzygy started. “What was considered ‘small’ for you two?”

Swift tapped his chin. “Hmm. Well, there was the time this newbie joined our ranks. She was from the Wonderbolts Academy, and thought she was all that. We decided we’d take her down a peg with something stupid, and sent her on a fool’s errand to look for the I-D-ten-T form.”

Shift continued. “She searched for a solid hour, before we told her she’d been had. Everypony was in on it. Well, maybe not in on it, but they all just played along. Which was actually surprising, considering how bland most of the royal guard can be.”

“Wait, wait, you missed the best part,” Swift cut in. “By everypony, we mean, everypony. This pegasus was so freaked out about not being able to find something as simple as a piece of paper, because it might tarnish her reputation as a capable Wonderbolt. So she pulled aside a certain sun-raising alicorn Princess that happened to be visiting, and asked for her assistance.”

Syzygy snorted. “You’re joking!”

“And she played along, too!”

“Ha!”

“We were pissing ourselves when we found out! Anyway, what about you, cheese legs? Did anything fun in training?”

Finishing off the last item on his tray, Obsidian quickly swallowed. “I don’t do pranks.”

“Bah! Boring!” Swift waved a hoof in Obsidian’s direction. Sighting a particular officer that had entered the galley, he lowered his voice slightly. “So, here’s a question for you fellas. Anypony know what’s up with Sabre and that sword of his? He seems to be overly attached to that thing. D’ya think he goes to bed with it?”

“Ahh, I dunno, but I overheard some crew saying it’s enchanted,” said Syzygy. A shrug later, he added, “That being said, you tend to overhear some crazy things from the crew while you’re prepping food. We call it the galley talk. Hard to tell what’s true and what’s not.”

“So wait, what do you mean ‘enchanted’?” Shift asked. “What, like making it flaming or something?”

“Doubt it,” Obsidian interjected. “Do you have any idea how cliché a flaming sword is?”

Shift rolled his eyes. “Okay, now you’re just trying to be boring, aren’t you?”

“I’m just being realistic. There is no practical application of a sword that is on fire.”

“Oh yeah? Why not? They look pretty awesome if you ask me,” Swift retorted. “Besides, how can a flaming sword suck, when you’ve got zebras who can wield fire? I mean, have you seen Shadow work her magic?”

Syzygy raised a talon. “I think elemental magic is a little different to flaming swords. For one, enchantments aren’t monumentally powerful, whereas elemental magic is probably about as raw power as you can get.”

“Neeeeerd!” the twins droned in unison.

“You’re also assuming everything can be improved with magic,” the changeling explained. “To start with, any creature physically holding a sword on fire will likely burn themselves either by proximity, or through the handle. Even if you solved that with insulation, your targets aren’t going to remain in contact that long if they’re getting slashed, and a successful thrust would make a flaming enchantment superfluous anyway.”

“What if the flame was hot enough to make the sword glow?”

“Then a slash might not be as lethal from bleeding out, if the wound gets cauterised. Plus, the sword material is weakened if it's white-hot. Starts getting malleable. The last thing you want is a sword either bending and falling onto your body, or getting sliced when parried.”

Shift mirrored his brother’s disappointed expression. “So flames are completely pointless on swords and stuff?”

Obsidian hummed. “Perhaps not completely.” Getting up, his horn glowed. Shooting his wings out, his leading edge wing blades erupted with sustained fire. “I suppose you could use an illusory version as an intimidation or distraction tactic,” he explained, demonstrating by leaping into the air in a vertical corkscrew and dropping back down. A trail of fire followed, obscuring most of the changeling’s body, while the sound of fire rushing in the wind completed the illusion.

As Obsidian landed, Syzygy nodded. “Come on, guys. You have to admit that was neat.” Looking around, the griffon found the rest of the galley’s occupants were staring at Obsidian. “Heh, nice little audience you got yourself there.”

Obsidian shrugged. “Whatever. I still think it’s mostly pointless.” Extinguishing the flames, he sat back down.

“Yeah, but it could probably distract somepony long enough to throw them off guard,” Shift suggested. “Plus it did look a little intimidating. Oh, I know! You could use a scythe! Yeah, a flaming scythe!”

Obsidian looked at Shift with an unamused expression. “Do you even know what a scythe looks like?”

“Duh. It’s a long, curved blade on a long stick. That’s exactly what makes them intimidating. You look like the grim reaper! That, combined with you being a scary changeling, and—”

“Yes, and scythes are designed for cutting things like grass, with a thin blade angled for that purpose. Even if you made one suited for battle, there’s a reason why swords or wing blades are common. They work. They’re balanced and wielded easily. A scythe is just oversized, off-balance and impractical.”

“I never could get used to wing blades,” Syzygy commented.

“Neither could we,” Swift added. “Impairs flight performance, and you’re clanking around in those things. Seems counter-productive as an Infiltrator. Don’t know how you do it, battle bug.”

“That’s typically caused by an improper fit, but also poor design,” Obsidian remarked. “I’ve seen pegasus blades, and you could probably solve all the issues with custom fits for each individual wing, and replacing the metal hinges with jewel bearings.”

“Jewels? Like diamonds and sapphires and such?”

“Yes. The bearings have low friction without the need for lubricant, so they’re easier to maintain, and you won’t spend every second day cleaning grease from your blades. Due to their compressive strength, they can be smaller, allowing for a closer, more aerodynamic fit. Lastly, they can work in corrosive environments, without seizing up or breaking apart. Works well over a pressure suit.”

“Neat, I guess. Still, I feel like the blades just slow you down.”

“While true, proper training mitigates that.”

“Interesting,” Syzygy remarked. “So what kind of training do changelings have, then?”

“That would be classified information. However, if you ever need to keep your blade skills sharp, don a pair, find a hornet’s nest, and get them angry. I think you can figure out what to do from there.”

Shift gave Obsidian an incredulous look. “And I think you think we’re stupid for believing a word of what you just said.”

“You are, but I wasn’t lying. A hornet’s nest is the perfect way to test speed, accuracy, and the ability to deal with threats from every angle. That’s how we ‘lings do it. Unofficially, anyway. If you want to make a game of it, the winner is the one with the fewest stings.”

Shift shook his head. “You changelings are weird. You know that, right?”

“Bit rich, coming from you.”

“Takes one to know one, I guess.”

“Alright, this was … an interesting chat. I think I’ll go prepare for our briefing. I’ll see you two there,” Obsidian addressed the twins, before nodding at the griffon. “Syzygy.”

“Good meeting you, Obsidian,” Syzygy nodded back. “If you ever have some free time, I’d be interested in hearing about what changelings like to eat. I need a new challenge.”

“Uhh, sure.”

Watching the changeling deposit his tray before exiting the galley, Shift said to Syzygy, “I told you he was an unusual fella.”

“Seems alright to me. Could tell he wasn’t overly fond of either of you, though.”

“No idea why. We haven’t done anything to him. Unless … You think it might have something to do with the Canterlot invasion?”

Syzygy shrugged. “Could be. Might explain his animosity to ponies. I’d suggest not bringing it up with him though. Could be a delicate topic.”

“Well, what do you suggest, then? We kinda have to get along if we’re going to be on the same team.”

“Sorry Shift, but I’m afraid that’s beyond my area of expertise.”

“Infiltrators. This is the Koshiir-Ra Crossing; a popular hub of standing hyperspace gates,” Eclipse started, pointing at the nearby projection. Displayed were eight blue squares in a circular arrangement, and a marker measuring a four kilometre radius. “Transiting civilians and smaller independent vessels lacking their own hyperdrives would use hubs like these to move between major parts of the galaxy. Recently however, we’ve had reports of two Vindicators and a Rancor circling the gates, lobbing ordnance at arriving vessels. So far, every attacked vessel has managed to reach its destination gate, but with major hull ruptures.”

“I’m surprised all vessels have actually survived,” Shadow commented.

“While the vessels have arrived at their destinations, they’ve all suffered significant crew casualties,” Eclipse clarified. “It seems the Raiders are purposefully holding back, making their presence obvious. Therefore, we suspect this may be a trap intended to lure a larger defending fleet into an ambush.”

“It’s a guaranteed trap,” Obsidian commented with complete confidence. “Why else would only two light cruisers be escorting a carrier?”

Eclipse nodded. “My thoughts exactly. There may be additional ships waiting to hyperspace in from nearby, or there may be cloaked escorts. We know Raiders occasionally deploy Assassins; essentially Daggers with basic cloaking. This could be one of those situations. Regardless, rather than risking an entire fleet with a direct attack, we’re going to flip the tables and deal with the situation using our own deception instead.”

“So … seeding mission?” Swift spoke up.

“Seeding mission. If significant numbers of enemy reinforcements arrive after a torpedo attack, we may not have enough remaining to deal with them. By that point, the element of surprise for a seeding is lost, requiring us to retreat, or call in our own, risking other ships. Therefore, we will send you in first. If additional forces arrive afterwards, Amarok can deal with them.”

Eclipse took a moment to project a new image. Appearing in front of the group was a map of the area, with the eight gates and three vessels labelled accordingly. Apart from a few small clusters of asteroids, the area around the Koshiir-Ra Crossing was completely barren.

“We will insert you into the Vindicators first, followed by the Rancor. Your primary objective is to lace each vessel’s power plant with demolitions. Additionally, the cruisers will require extra charges in their ammo holds. Before extraction from each vessel, we will send additional charges through for you to line the inner hull with. We need a large enough hole in each ship to send a torpedo through, to maximise their effectiveness. From our end, we will target your insertion points and synchronise torpedo impacts to ensure the most accurate hits possible, once you have completed your objectives.”

Shift let out a long ‘ahh’ when he finally understood the objectives. “That explains why we need to hit the power plants, yeah? Keep them on predictable headings, since the hole made by the inner hull explosives won’t be much bigger than the torpedo itself. Gonna be hard to get that aligned properly though.”

“Hey, that kinda reminds me of my first time!” Swift added, oblivious to the rolling eyes, groans, facehoofs and head shakes around him. “So we uhh, we’re gonna need lots of explosives for this, aren’t we?” he grinned, his eager expression mirroring his brother.

“Indeed, though BPSes will not be necessary. GCUs will suffice, so that should leave you more mobile. Sparky, Shadow”—Eclipse turned to the pair—“You will carry most of the demolitions, leaving the others with standard equipment. Ensure you set your timers so all vessels are destroyed simultaneously. This should disable the vessels and weaken them enough to destroy with only one, maybe two torpedoes each. Now gear up. Infiltration in forty-five minutes. Dismissed.”

Amarok continued to sail through the empty void towards the Koshiir-Ra Crossing. In the command centre, a calm stillness filled the air as the crew prepared to burn retrograde, though instead of hardened expressions, many of the occupants seemed bored instead.

Eyes scanning left to right on his screens once again, Captain Quasar stretched and broke the silence, speaking aloud for the rest of the command crew. “So, you know how the Hiigarans have always had this theme of using crew as their mothership’s living core? What are the bets they’ll do it again, now that we’ve given them their ship back?”

“I’d say it’s pretty likely,” Sierra replied.

Sabre joined in on the conversation. “Tradition, I assume?”

Shifting focus away from her systems, Sierra turned towards the Lieutenant. “I’m sure that would factor in somehow, but a living core is simply better. You have access to everything in your mind. Internal and external ship cameras and sensors, data links from networked ships in a fleet, the ability to issue orders, plus so much more. It allows you to make informed decisions in a fast and efficient manner.”

Crux found the courage to speak up. “That doesn’t make sense, ma’am. Computers do so much more, so much faster. If anything, where’s all that artificial intelligence technology I’ve heard so much about?”

“The biggest problem with computers versus flesh is that while computers can perform complex mathematical work in fractions of a second, they’re limited to just that,” Sierra explained. “We can recognise patterns and deal with things of a subjective nature. That is why computers will always serve as an aid, but never make the final call on anything. It’s also why skirmishes will never just be about who has the most advanced AI.”

“If a living core is so great, why wasn’t Amarok designed with one?” Sabre retorted. “You’d think with this destroyer being so modern and all, we’d have one.”

“Amarok is not a command ship, Lieutenant. Besides, I don’t think becoming the core of a ship is an easy task. I’d imagine there would be a lot of training involved.”

The Lieutenant shrugged. “I don’t know, the Elements of Harmony seemed to cope just fine.”

“The ancient hyperspace cores are an exception,” Sierra explained. “Neither we nor the Hiigarans have figured out the technology behind downloading the knowledge of using those devices directly into one’s mind. I think if we knew how to do that, the time required to train anypony for … well, anything, would take hours or days.”

Sabre hummed. “Would help with our crew shortages, wouldn’t it?”

“Contacts on short-range sensors, Captain. Bearing zero-four-four, inclination negative zero-two,” Crux interrupted, as several dots sprung up on his sensor manager. “Ship profiles appear to be Taiidan. Update on hostiles: The two Vindicators are leading the Rancor, bearing three-one-eight, inclination zero-four.”

“Noted, Specialist,” the Captain replied, adjusting himself in his seat. “Lieutenant Azimuth, plot an intercept course for the lead Vindicator. Ensign Sierra, set drives to two-G until midpoint when she’s ready.”

“Two-G to midpoint,” Sierra confirmed. “Perfect example right there. A living core commanding a fleet would have received all details instantly and carried out appropriate actions in less than a tenth of the time it took us to communi—”

“Later, Ensign,” Quasar cut in.

“Right. Apologies, Captain.”

After performing a quick calculation, Azimuth also spoke up. “Intercept point is approximately one-seven-hundred klicks away. Based on our current acceleration, we should arrive in ten minutes, assuming equivalent retro burn at mid.”

“Captain?” Crux raised a hoof hesitantly. “Should we inform the Taiidan fleet of our presence? They still believe they’re alone here.”

“Let’s hold off on that for now. I know they’re supposedly the ‘good’ Taiidani”—Quasar air quoted—“but I’d rather not advertise the existence of stealth destroyers to the galaxy just yet. Just keep an eye out for any unexpected contacts.”

“Understood, sir.”

“So, here’s something I don’t understand,” Shift called out, fidgeting with the harness on his seat while Amarok closed in on the Raider vessels.

“We can write books on what you don’t understand, and fill a library,” Obsidian muttered. Eyes closed, his fore-hooves rested atop his stomach while he waited for the ship to arrive at its destination.

Shift continued, unaware of the comment which gave Glare a quiet giggle. “Not that I’m complaining about being an Infiltrator, but if we’ve got the technology to send teams into ships with this infiltration tunnel thingy, why not drop some bombs into the ships instead?”

“Oh, easy,” Swift replied. “Because that—” he paused, contemplating the possibility. “Yeah, why can’t we do that?”

“We can,” Eclipse spoke up. “It’s actually a proposed upgrade for Amarok.”

“Neat.” Shift squirmed in his seat to face the officer. “When do we get it?”

“No idea. Could be months, if not more. All I know is that it’s basically going to be a mine launcher, using the infiltration tunnel technology as its delivery method. Likely mounted somewhere under the brig deck with the smaller Type-A mines used by minelayer ‘vettes. Still, the insertion beam can only reach a few metres into a ship, so you six are more effective when you hit the heart of a vessel.”

“How does that make sense though? Our demolitions are tiny, compared to those mines.”

Shadow chimed in. “You’re aware your demolitions are antimatter charges, as opposed to the compressed plasma in mines, right?”

Shift shrugged. “All I know is little box make big boom. So if these charges have a higher yield, why not use them for the mines? Hay, why not use them for the torpedoes?”

“Antimatter is dangerous,” Eclipse continued. “Extremely dangerous. Twenty-six milligrams of antimatter will release the same energy as a megaton explosion. Your charges hold even less for safety reasons.”

“Then why does each charge weigh more like two kilos?”

“Almost the entire weight of your charges are from their power and containment units, plus multiple backups.”

“Huh. Suddenly, I no longer feel safe carrying these.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ve never felt safe with you carrying them, either,” Obsidian quipped.

“Guess we better hope our charges don’t get hit by anything,” Swift remarked. “So Clippy, you think they’ll ever improve the tunnel tech to put us out of the job then?”

“Eh, I can’t see that happening any time soon, especially with anything involving mine tech. Last thing we need is a faulty mechanism causing mines to jam in launchers, or randomly go active while still aboard. Those same problems plagued the entire line of early Taiidan minelayers, when the technology was rushed into service. Don’t worry Shift, you’re not going to be out of the job any time soon. Even if your role was made redundant, I’m sure we can find you a job cleaning the outer hull or something.”

A couple of the Infiltrators laughed. Eclipse however looked down at the hoofrest on his right, when he heard a beep, and a message indicating a call from the command centre. Tapping on the screen he answered, “XO, briefing room.”

Crux’s voice came through the seat’s speakers. “Sir, the Captain wanted me to inform you that we’re about to make our final approach on the first Raider target. Acceleration is now limited to safe levels.”

“Understood. Let him know the Infiltrators will be ready.” Eclipse ended the conversation and turned to the others. “Okay, you heard him. Grab your gear and get ready.”

Turning to approach the first Vindicator from behind, Amarok matched the vessel’s heading, and nudged itself sideways until it aligned with the target’s stern. Picking up speed, the destroyer continued, manoeuvring to the vessel’s underside. As Amarok’s nose passed by the engines, it banked, rotating until infiltration tunnel faced the Vindicator’s hull. Nearing the insertion point, the destroyer slowed to match velocity.

In the command centre, Crux verified Amarok was at the correct location, and sent a discreet sensor ping through the target hull. Though the pulse’s power was limited to avoid detection, it had been sufficient to determine no threats in the immediate vicinity of insertion. Satisfied, Crux forwarded the sensor and insertion targeting data to Eclipse.

Standing ready for the past ten minutes, Eclipse received the data and activated the tunnel, clearing the Infiltrators for immediate insertion.

Eclipse sat beside the infiltration tunnel, a book resting over his face while he waited for the team of six to return once more. Their first target had been successfully laced with explosives without incident, and based on the lack of activity, he assumed that was true for the second target as well. Regardless, the officer grew slightly anxious, given the Infiltrators had been aboard the second Vindicator for over two and a half hours; almost half an hour longer than they had been aboard the first.

Minutes after the thought crept into his mind, a tone sounded from his seat. Tapping the relevant buttons on the touch-screen hoofrests, he was relieved when he heard Shadow’s voice requesting extraction. Wasting no time, Eclipse activated the tunnel, throwing several bags of demolitions through and standing ready to greet the Infiltrators as they returned.

Eclipse grinned. “You’re late, Commander.”

“We were stuck in hiding for a while,” Shadow explained. “Crew of twelve would not leave the area. They were unarmed, but appeared to be inspecting or repairing some equipment. Someone would have noticed them missing if we took them out.”

Eclipse nodded. “Good call.” Reaching for the touch-screen on the nearest seat, he sent a message to Crux. “Specialist, inform the Captain we have the Infiltrators. Ready for the final target.” Turning to the team, he continued. “As for you six, same as before. Grab some more explosives and be ready in ten. The Rancor isn’t too far away.”

The electric-blue aura of the insertion beam dissipated shortly after the team of six emerged in their third and final target, bathing the unlit storage facility in darkness. Activating the night-vision on their headgear, the group scanned their surroundings, finding nothing but pallets of spare parts on rusty warehouse shelves. Satisfied, Shadow whispered into her comms, “Area secure.”

The small squad headed towards a single source of light off in the distance. As they neared the exit to the facility, Sparky had sniffed out four bipedal creatures approaching nearby. Pulsars ready, the team assembled to either side of the exit and waited for the armour-clad group to pass by, all the while chatting away in their foreign language. Using a tiny camera to peek out from the facility, Shadow waited for the four to turn a corner, before signalling her squad to move out.

The team navigated the hallways and maintenance corridors of the large carrier, following directions based on the data obtained from other Vindicators. The CNS software programmed into their headgear calculated the optimal path to their objective in real time, compensating for multiple diversions along the way as they avoided unnecessary contact with the crew. As the squad progressed, they found many security cameras mounted at various points. Whenever a disguised Obsidian had been confident no Raider crew were around, Glare teleported the group, either across an intersecting corridor, or past a camera’s field of vision.

Eventually the Infiltrators found their way to a pair of armoured doors separating them from the engineering section. A small round pane of reinforced glass was built into each half. Obsidian peered through one. “For a carrier, there seems to be a suspicious shortage of crew,” he whispered to Shadow. “The two cruisers made sense, but a carrier? Where is everyone?”

“Not sure. Their strike-craft and reserve crew might be in their quarters, or waiting to deploy in the hangar,” Shadow suggested, looking through the second pane. “Maybe security is lax because they haven’t detected any threats.” Turning to the unicorn, she moved out of the way. “Glare. You’re up.”

Glare inspected the location on the other side of the doors. Forming a mental image of her destination, she prepared to cast her spell.

Obsidian remained sceptical. “Or maybe they’re lulling us into a false sense of security and waiting to ambush us.”

“I can’t say that’s not possible, but I’d find it highly unlikely.”

In a flash, the six appeared on the engineering side of the doors and pressed on. Despite increasingly larger numbers of crew in the area, they were able to keep out of sight as they approached the primary power plant. Cobbled together from various parts to form a crude, yet effective device, the power plant was volatile and highly unstable if damaged in the right places. Buried within a spherical outer casing the size of a fifteen-storey apartment, the alien technology resembled a sea urchin, suspended in the air with its countless connecting supports, tubes, and walkways. At one end, a large tube headed aft and connected with a bulkhead, presumably for the engines.

Peering around the corner at their objective, Shadow analysed each entrance; enclosed bridges, each guarded by a number of crew. She couldn’t figure out which bridge to use, or how to even approach one safely. Glancing up, she performed a double-take at several ceiling support structures, also noting darkened areas that could hide the flight-capable team members.

After a few hoof gestures, Swift, Shift and Obsidian took flight, hugging the shadows all the way up, until they perched atop an I-beam support. From their vantage point, the trio could make out most of the power plant below, as well as the other three members of their team darting between various covered objects, as they made their way closer to the power plant. Determining the least-guarded access bridge to be the one with the aft-facing entrance manned by three crew, Obsidian and the twins stuck to the darkened ceiling and positioned themselves above their targets. On Obsidian’s count, the three dived.

The air rushing past their ears began to howl as they plummeted faster and faster. Their targets drew nearer, until they were but a fraction of a second from impact. With an almost painful twist of their wings and a bend of their bodies later, they went from face-first, to pin-drop dives, impacting with the heads of their respective targets with their hind hooves. A couple of muffled grunts and several cracks and snaps had indicated they hit their marks. Wasting no time, the three carried their victims up to their ceiling perch, stuffing them into a nearby air vent, with the legs of the third sticking out at odd angles, and a viscous yellow fluid seeping from the last body.

Swift pulled a disgusted face at the fluid. “Ugh, I’m never looking at mustard the same way again.”

Returning to the access bridge, the rest of the team approached, and most disappeared down the narrow walkway, leaving Obsidian to remain at the entrance as a lookout. Green flames enveloped his body from the hooves up, leaving a drinking fountain in place of the changeling beside the entrance. Remaining perfectly still, Obsidian watched and waited for the rest of his team to return.

More than twenty minutes passed without any sign of the other five. Tempted to contact them over comms, Obsidian’s concerns were pushed to the back of his mind when he noticed a single crew member walking past nearby. The beady eyes of the Raider stared at the unguarded bridge and approached, coming to a halt a few metres from Obsidian, who at this point was considering dropping the disguise and charging him. Opting to wait, he watched the Raider look around briefly, before taking a few steps towards the entrance.

Obsidian could tell the crew member thought something was wrong, though the Raider’s stance and lack of urgency in his movements suggested no suspicion of intrusion, or threatening situations. The Raider looked down at the drinking fountain. Deciding he was thirsty, he approached, and leaned in for a—

“MMPH!”

The Raider’s muffled screams lasted mere seconds when Obsidian dropped his disguise and clamped his jaw down on the face of the unfortunate victim. Struggling to shake the changeling off, the Raider grew weaker, and Obsidian dragged the twitching body into the access bridge, spitting the corpse onto the floor when the body went completely limp.

Turning around at the sound of quiet gagging, he saw Swift and Shift staring with identically horrified faces at the dripping yellow blood from the changeling’s fangs and chin, and the faceless body behind him. “Demolitions planted?” the changeling asked, flicking a chunk of flesh off a fang with his tongue. The pegasi nodded, maintaining the same traumatised expressions. “Good. Once the others return, we need to rush back. We don’t have much time to get the buzz off this ship.”

By the time the team reunited, the group had only a few minutes to spare as they rounded the final corner to their insertion point in full gallop. In their haste and abandoned caution, they caught the attention of a pair of armed crew near the entrance to the storage facility they came from. Swift and Shift rushed to ready their carbines. The two crew fumbled to raise their weapons. Sparky hurled Obsidian at the pair like a javelin before either side got even close to taking aim.

Knocking both crew to the ground, the final sight one of the crew saw was of the changeling’s bladed wing being flicked across his neck. The other crew’s final moment had been significantly more painful, as the charging diamond dog picked him up by the leg, and proceeded to pummel him into the ground, wall and anything else nearby.

Even after the rest of the team had caught up, the diamond dog still had not stopped his frenzied beating. “Uhh, Sparky?” Swift called out. “Sparks!” Shift joined in. “I think you got him!”

Examining his work, Sparky grunted, satisfied he had sufficiently neutralised the Raider with appropriate force, and threw what remained of the mangled body over his shoulder. Glare appeared pale, almost losing the contents of her stomach at the mere sight. Looking away, she followed Sparky and the rest of the team into the storage facility.

As soon as Shadow signalled for extraction, the insertion beam flashed into view, and the squad wasted no time retrieving the final set of explosives that came through. Shadow, Glare and Sparky proceeded to throw the charges up to the other three to secure against the inner hull. After a brief inspection of each explosive, the six departed the ship marked for death.

With the last of the six emerging back aboard Amarok, Eclipse notified the bridge of the team’s arrival. Shortly after, the whine of the vessel’s engines grew louder, as the destroyer pulled away. “Job well done, you six. Textbook—whoah, Obsidian, do you need to visit the infirmary?”

“It’s not my blood. Who knew Raiders bled yellow?”

Eclipse pointed to Obsidian’s chest. “Actually, I was referring to that.”

Looking down, Obsidian found his chest oddly misshapen, with a large object pushing out from underneath his skin. The changeling groaned. “I hate when this happens.” He explained to Eclipse, “I just dislocated something. Probably when Sparky threw me at the Raiders.”

“Sparky did what now?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” Obsidian dismissed the event. His ears twitched, and he looked up at the ceiling when he heard torpedoes firing. He then called the nearest pegasus over. “Swift, I need you to buck me. Hard.”

Swift’s eyes bulged.

“In the chest, you idiot!” the changeling snapped, pointing at the dislocation. “To realign this.”

“Oh. Oh! In that case …” Swift wheeled around without hesitation and shot a hind hoof back.

A sickening crunch filled the air, and the others reeled in horror. Obsidian collapsed on the floor, too winded to scream. Shadow and Glare immediately went to the changeling, though the pair were pushed away. “I’m … fine,” Obsidian gasped, returning shakily to his hooves.

“You know what? Perhaps I’ll postpone the debrief for a few hours,” Eclipse suggested.

Obsidian moved to the nearest seat. “No, let’s get it over with,” he wheezed. “I’d rather not move for the next half hour or so, anyway.”

Following Glare into their quarters, Obsidian removed the last of his gear and placed it beside the bathroom. “Hey Glare, you need to use the shower?” he asked, while lightly massaging his chest.

“No, go ahead. You definitely need it more than I do,” she called out behind him, referring to the dried blood still caked to Obsidian’s muzzle and left side. “You better have that place scrubbed spotless once you’ve finished!” Glare added.

Obsidian turned his head to Glare. “Neat freak.” Smirking, he retreated into the bathroom with his gear.

“I’m not a—ugh!” Glare decided to let the comment go. Placing her helmet on the desk, she unclasped her VMUI and removed her GCU, freeing her mane and tail with great satisfaction. Removing each piece of armour from her GCU’s linings, she inspected them for damage, and stacked them on top of each other, before proceeding to check the rest of her hardware for functionality.

Obsidian exited the bathroom shortly after, his body shining more so than usual, and putting his freshly cleaned gear to shame. “Shower’s all yours,” he announced, as he spread his gear across the table. Taking a towel, he proceeded to dry his blades with delicate swipes.

Glare inspected the changeling’s body. “What happened to you?”

“What do you—ah, this?” the changeling looked around at his body. “I was trying to apply some polish to my things, but the container leaked. Long story short, I slipped in it, and decided to just roll with it. Literally, at one point. You know, I quite like it, actually. And before you ask, the bathroom is clean. Shiniest floor you’ve ever seen, as well. So, you know, its pristine state should be worthy of Her Royal Highness Princess Glare.”

Glare threw her GCU at Obsidian, which wrapped around his face with an audible thump, and headed into the bathroom. “Smartflank,” she muttered.

“Is that … banana?” Obsidian sniffed, his muffled voice emerging from the uniform. “You actually use a banana-scented—wait a second. Shampoo, or detergent?”

“Oh zip it!”

Snickering, Obsidian placed the uniform on the table next to the rest of Glare’s items, and proceeded to store his own away in his drawers. A sudden knock on the pressure door had him sighing in annoyance. “What now?”

Opening the pressure doors, Obsidian found an earth pony who stepped forward, before shrinking under the gaze of the changeling; unusual, given the pony was the taller of the two. “Uhh, s-sorry to disturb you. I have these d-documents for an Obsidian and Glaring Light.”

Obsidian swiped the two identical folders from the pony’s trembling outstretched hoof. “I’ll take those. And that’s Chief Petty Officer Obsidian to you!”

“Y—yes s—sir.”

“Sir? Sir? Last I checked, my uniform had no stripes. Do you want to try again, Deckhoof?”

“S—sorry Chie—”

Obsidian slammed the inner doors in the pony’s face. Fighting the urge to laugh, he grabbed his chest as the dull pain flared up.

“I heard that!” Glare called out from the shower. “How are you supposed to change everypony’s perceptions of you if keep acting like a foal? Come on, grow up.”

“I was just having a little fun,” Obsidian replied. “Besides, technically he was supposed to address me in the proper manner, so …”

Obsidian could hear Glare groaning on the other side of the door. Placing Glare’s folder on her mattress, he settled himself in his bed and turned the reading light on. After skimming through the first page, Obsidian leaned out from his bed. “Hey Glare!” he shouted. “We’ve got a new assignment!”

The shutter on one of the beds at the opposite side of the room opened, and an enraged griffon leaned out. “Will you keep it the hell down? I’m trying to sleep here, you prick!” she shouted, before slamming the shutter down once more.

Good day to you, Infiltrator. Your upcoming assignment is as follows:

Over the last six weeks, multiple remote outposts along the Karos Graveyard perimeter have detected anomalous electromagnetic readings. These readings have been intermittent, yet in distinct patterns, suggesting their emission is no natural event. Signal triangulation has sent the recon fleet Twelfth Solar towards a planet in the heart of the Graveyard, designated Enigma Tango. Upon further investigation, the fleet determined the planet to be formerly populated.

The fleet's sensors narrowed down these readings to hilly terrain past the outskirts of a desolate industrial region on one of the larger continents. Our research division wishes to deploy a ground team to analyse this phenomenon. Preparation of a small scientific expedition led by Tenth Fleet and its carrier Achelois is under way, and scheduled to arrive in a week's time. However, Twelfth Fleet reports planet-wide activity from erratic defensive emplacements and autonomous patrolling vehicles, as was discovered when multiple probes were sent to the surface. A particularly large concentration of these machines will be found in the mission area designated in the wide-area map of document 1A.

Due to a permanent storm spanning most of the landmass, orbital surveillance data is incomplete. The aforementioned probes sent to the surface have been unable to transmit useful data, either. Of those that survived atmospheric entry and flight through the weather system, their landing sites were pushed off-course as a result of the storms. From the available data, any potential dangers detected have been neutralised from orbit by Twelfth Solar. Due to operational requirements, they will be unavailable for the duration of your mission.

The lack of complete data requires a reconnaissance team on ground to scout the area, ensuring our science team and their security detail can safely traverse the region. As such, your primary objective will be to find or create a safe passage into this region. Your CNS will include suspected patrol patterns of mobile threats, based on limited probe data. The data will also include sites of destroyed emplacements and vehicles.

The Galactic Council has already confirmed no known faction has any claim to this planet. Given there are no lifeforms in or around the mission area, you are cleared to engage potential threats at your discretion. Amarok will provide limited fire support against targets, using data from the target marker function on your CNS. Be advised, there is no information on the AI of these machines. Behaviours and reactions are unknown.

Upon completion of modifications, you will leave with your Infiltrator squadron aboard a Forge Mk. IX aircraft attached to Amarok’s exterior. This aircraft has been modified to withstand atmospheric entry and flight through the storm. However, it will be unable to return to orbit. Once a landing site has been secured, scuttle the craft and proceed towards the objective. Tenth Solar will provide extraction information at a later stage.

Refer to document 2A and confirm all equipment and supplies are in order before departing. Due to the planet’s lower surface gravity, they have been adjusted accordingly.

Author's Note

I'm not saying that one scene looked like this, but it totally looked like this:

14: Downtime

“I don’t get it,” Swift continued chatting with his brother, as they alighted the crew transport and headed down a corridor aboard the orbital crew station. “Two days to complete one stupid little mounting for a stupid little fighter?”

“These vessels are built to strict standards, Swift,” Shadow explained behind the twins. “Any modifications would deviate from those and require extensive testing, especially to ensure they can withstand hyperspace. Gravitational fluctuations alone could pull apart the assembly and anything attached to it.”

“Yeah, but that’s what makes no sense. Why put work into a temporary mounting for some old modified aircraft, when Achelois, which has ships that can get to and from a planet’s surface, is meant to arrive at that same planet in a week anyway?”

“Because that would delay the mission by several days,” Shadow replied. “The readings picked up by the outposts only started recently. Maybe they won’t last long. Lose the readings, and you might not be able to track them.”

“So … get one of the local production facilities to build an appropriate ship?” Swift offered. “I’m sure this station could do that, actually.”

“Do you have any idea how backed up the production queues are? Expanding fleets, larger and more redundant hyperspace inhibitor networks to protect our growing territory, repairing damaged ships, and general maintenance all keep those facilities busy. Building a single-use fighter is low priority when alternatives are available.”

“Why not just build extra facilities?”

“And who will run them with our crew shortages? No, we just have to make do with what we have.”

“Meh,” Swift conceded. “Then that brings me to my next question. Why are we the ones tasked with recon?”

“Can you think of any other combat group in the Navy better suited to the task?”

“Alrighty, fair point. So what are you fellas gonna do with your two days in Canterlot? Think I’m gonna pick up a coupl’a sheilas for myself and Shift.”

“I don’t think I need any help from you in that regard, mate.” Shift shoved his brother, almost into the path of an oncoming crew member.

Recovering, Swift waved his hoof in Shift’s face. “Scars, bro. Scars. If the mares love me, then they’ll be all over you, too.”

Shift slapped the limb in his face away with a wing. “Get that thing away from me. I know where it’s been.”

“Same place yours goes,” Swift shot back, immediately regretting his choice of words. “Oh, shi—that came out wrong.”

“Swift, you disgusting bogan drongo!”

Swift flashed his brother a sly grin. “Well, you say that, but you don’t exactly have the high ground, if you claim you know where my appendages have been.”

“Yeah, I’ve had enough of this conversation,” Obsidian muttered from the back of the group before breaking off. “I’ll see you in two days.”

“Uhh, yeah, same here. Bye.” Glare took off after the changeling as he turned a corner. She followed, sighting Obsidian’s tail as it disappeared around another corner. Eventually she caught up, coming up beside him at the next turn. “Hold up. Where are you going?”

“Going to look around the station. Overheard a few crew talking about some fast food place called Mosaic Chakra that has some interesting food. Want to check it out, then find some hot water pipes in a dark and quiet place to sleep these days away.”

“You’re not planning on going to the surface with us?”

“Home is too far away. What’s a changeling going to do in Canterlot for two days?”

“Can’t you just disguise yourself?”

“And then what?”

“I—uhh, I don’t know. Whatever it is you like to do. Look, if you’re not planning on doing anything then, I’ve got a bit of a favour to ask you. Now I know you probably don’t consider me a friend, but”—Glare sighed—“I need to do something, and I might need a little moral support.”

Obsidian stopped, and faced Glare. “You sure I’m the right one for that? What about your friends in Canterlot? Or one of the other Infiltrators?”

“My Canterlot friends don’t understand this life as well as you. As for the other Infiltrators? Sparky never talks, Shadow is rather intimidating, and Swift and Shift are … well, Swift and Shift.”

“Oh, Shadow is the intimidating one? Now you’ve got me envious.”

“Obsidian, I’m being serious here.”

“Alright, alright, just tell me what you need.”

“Next transport to Equestria is in an hour. Meet me at the gate.”

Obsidian stood at the main entrance to Canterlot’s largest hospital. The disguised changeling, masquerading as a blue unicorn, stood beside Glare, who appeared rooted to the ground while taking several deep breaths.

“Are you alright, Glare?”

“No. I haven’t visited in a while. I’m afraid of what I’ll see if she’s become worse.”

“Take all the time you need.”

With great effort, Glare pressed onward, the few metres to the entrance feeling considerably longer to her. After a minimum exchange of words with one of the mares at the reception desk, Glare proceeded to the paediatric ward, with Obsidian in tow. As they approached the door separating the ward from the rest of the hospital, a maroon stallion emerged, almost walking straight into Glare.

Their eyes widened as they looked upon each other. Glare was the first to speak up. “Hello dad.”

“What the hay do you think you’re doing here?”

Glare took a few steps back. The question caught her off-guard, like a slap to the face. “I haven’t seen you in almost ten months, and that’s the first thing you say to me?”

“What did you expect? ‘Hello Glare, I’ve missed you. How many lives have you taken this week?’ As you waltz in here with your—your camouflage uniform and comrade to corrupt my last remaining daughter?”

Obsidian moved between the two. “Okay, I think you’re being a bit dramatic the—”

“Who asked you for your opinion?” Glare’s father snapped. “Keep your bloodstained hooves out of our business.”

Obsidian remained silent for a moment, as he stared down the taller stallion. Maintaining eye contact, his face turned slightly towards Glare. “Yeah, now that I’ve met your father, it just reinforces my opinion of him being a prick.”

“Excuse me?”

Glare attempted to wedge herself between the other two. “Obsidian, please—”

“No.” Obsidian took a step towards Glare’s father. “You. You need to show your daughter some buzz—some bucking respect. Several thousand owe their lives to her, if not more. Now I’ve worked with Glare from day one, and not once has she violated your idealistic values. So how about you shut your hay hole, and leave?”

“How dare y—”

“Shut. Your hay hole. And leave,” Obsidian growled, leaning closer to the stallion.

Glare’s father narrowed his eyes. He leaned slightly to address his daughter. “Glare, I’ll see you at home.” Stepping around Obsidian, he turned and made for the exit.

“That was not what I had in mind when I said moral support,” Glare hissed, her body trembling. “In the middle of a hospital, no less!”

“Well, I did say I wasn’t the right one for the job. At least, he invited you home, so that sounds like progress to me. Plus, you were going there anyway, so now you’ve got the initial argument taken care of. Though if you want my opinion, I’d say good riddance if he never spoke to you again. He’s delusional.”

“Hey, that’s still my father you’re talking about,” Glare chided. “Still, I suppose it is some sort of progress. Come on. Glint’s room is at the end of this corridor.”

The pair travelled down the colourful hall of the paediatric ward, its bright and cheery walls and decorations contrasting starkly with the sterile white environment most of the hospital showcased. Even the smell seemed more pleasant, devoid of all but a hint of any disinfectant odour, and replaced with mild earthy and floral scents instead.

Passing by many of the rooms, Obsidian caught glimpses of the fillies and colts within, through the small panes of glass at each door. Some were lively, playing with toys or visitors. Others busied themselves with books or drawings. A few were bandaged, or hooked up to medical equipment.

Obsidian almost bumped into Glare as she stopped outside the final room. Pausing, she knocked hesitantly, and pushed the door open slowly. Entering, Glare’s eyes landed on the small figure beneath the white covers of the bed. She sat herself beside the bed and nuzzled her sister, mindful of the nasal cannula attached to the filly. “Hey Glint. How’ve you been?”

Almost identical to Glare in every way except size, Glint appeared to be asleep. As Obsidian stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes were drawn to a clipboard that hung from the bed’s frame just in front of him. While Glare continued to talk, Obsidian read through whatever information he could understand.

Returning the clipboard, Obsidian moved up beside Glare. “I don’t think she’s able to respond.”

“I know.” Glare appeared crestfallen, her ears drooping as she sniffed. “She can still hear us. She’s just … trapped in her own body, as the Doctors put it.”

“Is she in any pain?”

“No, her medication takes care of that. Otherwise, she’s got all her senses working just fine.”

“She must be bored then. Few visitors here and there, with hours of listening to that clock ticking.”

“Obsidian, she can hear you, remember?”

The changeling backed away. “Right, sorry. I’ll just … sit in the corner and leave you to it.”

Well over an hour had passed, with Obsidian seated patiently at the far end of the room. Despite the hushed, one-sided conversation Glare had with her sister, he could still hear the stories she told of her new life, excluding the more unpleasant parts. She recounted the developments in her spells, the vivid descriptions of space, and how she, in a way, met Glint’s favourite Element of Harmony.

Glare remained seated, her head resting on the mattress as she stroked her sister’s mane. “I’m so sorry I haven’t visited for so long,” her voice cracked. “I—I need to go, sis. Dad’s waiting back home. I’ll see you again tomorrow before I head off. I promise.”

Glare hugged her sister once more, as she reluctantly made her way to the door. Obsidian followed wordlessly behind. Pausing, he glanced back at the motionless filly, a thought brewing in his mind. “Glare, wait.”

Glare looked quizzically back at the changeling. Obsidian’s horn was lit, and Glare noticed a green cloud leaving her body. Initially, she thought the changeling had fed off her, until she saw the translucent energy streaking towards her sister. Unsure of what was happening, Glare opened her mouth, but was cut off when she heard what sounded like a contented sigh from Glint.

Before Glare could ask, Obsidian explained, “Emotions and memories are tied to one another. Typically, when a changeling feeds, the emotions are rarely strong enough to decipher the memory. The few times they are, however, they can invoke glimpses of the source’s memories.”

“So Glint got to read my mind?”

“No, nothing so specific. What you were feeling, the love for your sister and the emotions associated with the stories you told her, were conveyed in a more … effective format, so to speak. The idea crossed my mind just now, after sensing your feelings. Powerful, though I wasn’t sure if it would work between two ponies as it would for ‘lings. Judging by the emotions I’m sensing from her, I’d say it did.”

Glare was speechless. Tears streamed down her face as she wrapped her hooves around Obsidian. “This is the nicest thing anypony has ever done for me in a long time,” her muffled words came through between sobs. “Thank you.”

“You definitely needed it. I’d have done the same thing with her to you, but I don’t know if it would harm her, given her current state.”

Pulling back, Glare wiped her face with a hoof. “Makes sense. My sister comes first, no matter what.” Taking a moment to compose herself, she pulled the door open. “Alright, now to face my father.”

“Go on. I’ll catch up. Just going to stop that buzzing clock first.”

“So this is where you grew up, huh?” Obsidian looked up at the compact, two-storey villa. “Looks like you had a better foalhood than most.”

Glare walked through the front yard, its dull green grass and wilting flowers indicative of their lack of care. “Don’t let the house fool you. We are by no means wealthy. This house has been owned by a member of my family for almost four generations now. My dad used to put a lot of work into keeping it pristine,” she explained, stopping at the door.

“If only he put as much work into—”

“Obsidian, please. Just”—Glare rang the doorbell—“keep quiet.”

Through the door’s frosted glass, a silhouette could be seen making its way towards the pair. As the door unlocked and swung open, Glare’s father made to speak, before sighting the still-disguised changeling beside his daughter. “Oh. You’re here as well. Alright”—he stood aside, letting his daughter pass, before extending his hoof—“come in. Solar Flare. Or Flare for short.”

Obsidian stared down at the hoof in front of him for a moment. He looked up to see Glare scowling at him from inside, tilting her head towards Flare’s hoof. Reluctantly, Obsidian shook it and entered. Looking around, the most striking features within were the many family paintings hung on several walls throughout the house. The hardwood floors and rugs offered a rather warm feel, and made several of the potted plants around the place stand out.

Despite the tension that had grown between the two, Glare and her father seemed to be able to hold a conversation. Tuning out, Obsidian decided to peruse the paintings. Several were of Glare, her parents, and her sister at different ages, while others included additional ponies whom Obsidian assumed to be part of her extended family.

As he moved into the living room, he continued inspecting the canvases, particularly the largest one hung on the stone cladding of the lit fireplace, just above its mahogany mantel. His eyes kept being drawn to one particular mare in each painting. There was something oddly familiar about the midnight-blue unicorn he assumed was Glare’s mother, though he could not tell what. He squinted at the details, from her long, flowing amethyst tail and voluminous mane, to the barely visible cutie mark that was impossible to make out from the angle she was painted at. His train of thought was interrupted when he heard his name.

“Did you say something?” Obsidian looked back at Glare, who followed her father back into the room with two mugs.

“I said did you want anything to drink?”

“Uhh, no. No, thank you.”

“So”—Flare sank into one of the couches—“Glare tells me you’re both part of the same team or something.”

Obsidian returned to inspecting the paintings. “Correct.”

“And is it true what you said earlier today? Glare saved thousands?”

Glare appeared to shrink into her seat, hiding a light blush. “He was exaggerating a little, dad.”

“Depends on how you look at it.” Obsidian turned to Glare. “You can say it was a team effort and divide those lives between the six of us, but you were the only one who supported me. Shadow might not have agreed to let me do what I did otherwise. If you want to be modest about it, we can split those lives fifty-fifty.”

“I … suppose.”

The three fell into silence, with only the sound of crackling wood, and the sips of what Obsidian assumed was hot chocolate, if the aroma was anything to go by.

Flare leaned forward, placing his mug on a glass coaster. “Alright, look. Perhaps I might have overreacted a little with you joining the Navy, Glare.”

The changeling snorted. “A little?”

“Obsidian,” Glare warned.

“Fair point. Glare, I still don’t approve of your career choice, and I never will, but”—Flare sighed—“as difficult as it is to say this, I can try to accept it. But make no mistake. If you ever take a life, and I’m sure it’s only a matter of time in such an industry, what you do will be yours to bear. That said, it’s been real quiet without you around.”

Glare hugged her father. “I’ve missed you too, dad.”

Still standing, Obsidian watched the pair. Tired of waiting for them to part, he cleared his throat. “Right, I don’t think you need me around any more, Glare. I’m going to head back to the station.”

“You don’t have to leave so soon, Obsidian. We’ve got a guest bedroom. If that’s okay with you, dad.”

“No, I think you two need some time alone,” Obsidian quickly cut in before Flare could open his mouth. “I’ll see you back aboard.”

Screams.

All across Canterlot, the panicked screams of mares and stallions, fillies and colts, could be heard as the protective bubble around the city finally disintegrated, and thousands of black creatures descended. Though Equestria had a massive magical advantage with their mobilised defence force over the encroaching aggressors, the changelings had the numbers to easily overwhelm the defenders, even without the armoured elites interspersed with the rest.

The elite spearheading the assault dived rapidly, cutting through the left wing of an airborne member of the royal guard and letting him fall out of the sky, as it intercepted another pegasus near its dive path. Grabbing the guard by his tail, it pulled him down with it, releasing him into a pair of ground soldiers and incapacitating all of them. Mere seconds into the commencement of their invasion, and a single changeling had already neutralised four guards.

The changeling saw a lone guard retreating nearby, and immediately took off after him, weaving through a narrow street lined with shop-houses. Landing nearby, it crouched low, waiting for an ambush, listening for the slightest noise through the chaos unfolding around it. Wheeling around at a whimper, the changeling leapt into the air, skidding to a halt with its bladed wing extended centimetres from a civilian trembling against the glass facade of a café. Folding its wing back to its side, the changeling backed away and took off.

Mere meters into the air, a barrage of bright blue bolts of magic struck the changeling, searing its armour and throwing the wearer back down to the ground. Rolling behind a small fountain, another volley of magic was sent its way after peeking around the concrete structure. Identifying its attackers at one end of the row of buildings, the changeling took a few seconds to charge a spell, before turning invisible.

Shooting into the air, the changeling only had a few seconds before the spell’s effects would wear off. Positioned at the building’s side, the changeling dived. Visible once more, it pulled up, tearing through a window and slamming one surprised unicorn into another. Scanning the battered living room for others, he jumped out of the same window after a final prod at the pair motionless on the carpet.

Over the course of several minutes, many others fell victim to the changeling. Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen guards were out of commission, with the changeling showing no signs of tiring. Despite weathering assaults of magic to its armour and being flung through buildings with force, it continued advancing street by street through the city, leaving each secured block to its comrades. Another guard would soon become the twentieth to fall, before a second elite broke his back armour by landing on him. Collapsing to the floor, the guard released an unintended spell with great force at the first changeling, which simply bounced off its side armour.

Whizzing into a group of civilians attempting to gallop across to safety, the streak of magic hit a midnight-blue mare, propelling her into a nearby building already damaged from the invasion. The changeling only managed a quick glance at the casualty, before the crumbling building enveloped the crowd in dust and debris. The last it saw before turning its attention back to the immediate surroundings was a long, amethyst tail.

Obsidian bolted upright, nearly hitting his face on the row of pipes above him. Grasping desperately at the fading details of his dream, he tried to convince himself his memories were false. That it was just some odd mix-up, and not the horrific coincidence it was. Dropping from the ceiling, he landed in the empty corridor and started pacing, hoping to come up with a better conclusion.

What about your mother? What does she think about all of this?

She died during the Canterlot invasion.

“No,” he muttered. “No, no, no, NO, NO, shit, buzzing, SHIT!” he struck the solid metal wall beside him as his voice echoed. He stopped, slumping himself against the wall as his eyes glazed over.

“Obsidian? Is that you?” Shadow called out from somewhere nearby. Emerging from a nearby doorway, the zebra quickly found the changeling sitting on the floor. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“I did something bad.”

Shadow blinked at the response. “Pardon?”

“I did something really bad,” Obsidian repeated, his eyes still unfocused and staring off into the distance.

“Would you … care to elaborate?”

Obsidian shook his head, before getting to his hooves. “No. No, you’re not the one I should be explaining myself to. Where’s Glare? I need to speak to her immediately.”

“She arrived a little early. Last I saw, she was waiting at our transport’s departure lounge. I’m guessing she’s still there. Why? What happened? Obsidian!”

Without a word, Obsidian took off in a gallop. Shadow called his name as she tried to keep up with the faster changeling. Eventually, she lost sight of him. Moving between the decks, Obsidian continued frantically as he reached the deck where the lounge was located. Skidding to a halt just around the corner from the relevant gate, he peered into the room. Glare appeared to be the only occupant so far, busying herself with a book.

“Obsidian!” Shadow hissed quietly, as she finally caught up with the changeling. “What. Is wrong. With you?”

“I need to speak with Glare. In private. Can you make sure we’re not disturbed?”

“Will you explain what is happening first?”

“Later, if appropriate.”

Giving up on the changeling’s cryptic responses, she resigned herself to Obsidian’s request. “Very well.”

Taking a deep breath, Obsidian entered the lounge and cleared his throat as the door slid closed behind him. “Glare?”

“Hey Obsidian. Guess you’re early as well.” Glare looked up from her book. She noticed something was off about the approaching changeling. “Is … everything alright?”

“Glare, I don’t know how I’m supposed to say this, but before I do, please know I never intended for something like this to happen.”

Glare placed her book upside down on the bench next to her and got to her hooves. “This sounds serious. What happened?”

Hesitating multiple times, Obsidian gathered his thoughts. “You know how there were all those paintings of your family back in your house? Somepony in them looked familiar, and I only just realised I’ve been seeing her in a recurring dream I’ve had for the past few years. A dream of my involvement in the Canterlot invasion. I know I could have just lied about this, or said nothing, but you have a right to know.”

“Right to know what? Obsidian?”

“I … am responsible for the death of your mother.”

Time seemed to slow to a crawl, as Glare processed the information. Her eyes scanned the changeling’s face, and her mouth occasionally opened and closed, unsure how to respond.

“Glare? You understood what I just said, right?”

Glare remained slack-jawed for several seconds. Without warning, she hit Obsidian in the muzzle with a left hook and enough force to knock the changeling out before he even toppled over.

When Obsidian’s eyes opened, he found himself staring up at a medic who had been busy inspecting the changeling for signs of injury. Pushing the pony’s face away, he grunted, as he rolled over and got to his hooves, noting he was still at the transport gate. At the closest edge of the lounge, he found Shadow consoling Glare.

Noticing the changeling stumbling as he rose, Glare gasped, and galloped towards him. “Obsidian, I’m so sorry! I—I didn’t mean to—and then I think heard a crack and—”

Obsidian rubbed the side of his jaw, where a visible horseshoe marking appeared. “You’re apologising? Look, I deserved that. Pretty sure I deserved even worse. But right now, I just need to know if there is anything I can do to—”

“Just,” Glare interjected. “How did she—how did it happen?”

“Are you sure you want me to—”

“Yes.”

“I was battling several royal guards,” Obsidian hesitated, speaking slowly. “After the majority were subdued, one of my cousins took out another guard who fired off a spell. It hit my armour at a shallow angle and bounced into some civilians. The one hit was your mother. She … was thrown clear. I heard an impact, and when I turned around, I saw a building collapsing. In it, I saw …”

Shadow gasped, placing a hoof over her muzzle. “Oh dear,” she remarked solemnly.

Obsidian leaned to the side in an attempt to make eye contact with the unicorn. “Are you going to be alright, Glare?”

“I … think so.” Blinking hard, Glare looked into the changeling’s eyes. “Obsidian, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was the result of a freak accident.”

“How—how are you so calm about this? If I hadn’t been there in that exact spot—”

“Stop. What happened was horrible, but being in the wrong place at the wrong time doesn’t make it your fault. Look, I’ve had many years to come to terms with my mother’s … passing, alright? It was a coincidence you were where you were, just like it was a coincidence for my mother to be where she was. I don’t blame you for what happened. Please, I don’t want you to give any of this further thought, okay?”

“I’m not sure I’m ready to forgive myself just yet. But thanks, Glare.”

“Hey, what are friends for?”

Caught off-guard, Obsidian had to compose himself after a series of unintelligible stammers. “You know, there was a time when I wouldn’t have been caught dead saying something like this with sincerity, but … I think I’m okay with having a pony for a friend.”

“So, should I call off the security crew?” the medic spoke up behind the three. “You know, for the whole ‘striking a superior’ thing?”

“Leave. Now.” Shadow stared daggers at the medic, who promptly vanished.

Obsidian managed a small grin. “Heh, beat me to it. Though that reminds me …” Obsidian’s face flashed green, hiding Glare’s hoofprint. “You know, for a pacifist, you can really swing those hooves. On a scale from one to Shadow, that was a solid eight.”

15: Radiation (Part 1)

Amarok positioned itself in low orbit, cutting its engines and subjecting its occupants once again to weightlessness. In its briefing room, the clicks and zips of fasteners filled the compartment. As the Infiltrators performed their final equipment checks, they deposited their bags into one of several small equipment crates beside the pressure doors. Being the first to finish, Obsidian simply inspected the contents of the other open crates, a small frown on his face as his eyes jumped between the containers.

Taking a break from organising the contents of her side bags, Shadow noticed the changeling’s expression and floated towards him, securing her mag boots when she got close. “Is something wrong?”

“Not sure.” Obsidian grew silent. He looked at the first crate, labelled ‘Rations’. Nothing out of the ordinary there, even if the crate was almost half his size. The adjacent crate seemed fine, too; camping and survival gear, plus supplementary medical equipment. Then his eyes landed on the third and largest crate, holding LR-48s, 68s, a disassembled 98, plus explosives and two J8s. “Why does it feel like there is more to this mission than what we’re being told?”

“What makes you think that?”

Obsidian fidgeted with the neck seal on his BPS while he thought of a reason. “I don’t know. I mean a week-long supply makes sense for what I expect would be a three-day journey, and the J-eight would help when targets are too close to be marked for orbital strikes, but why is the nine-eight necessary? Or the extra demolitions for that matter. Ten proximity mines? For what?”

Shadow shrugged. “Better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it.”

“I guess. But if we’re using that logic, we might as well have dropped into the field with something like those armoured assault vehicles with the rotary cannons. Then we wouldn’t need that fourth crate filled with camping gear.”

“I assume we were given all we could get with time being the limiting factor. Remember what I explained to Swift?”

“Still. As much as I think the twins are a pair of feather-brains”—Obsidian turned towards the twins at the far end of the room, both of whom were balancing smoke grenades on the tips of their snouts—“their comments did make me wonder. What’s so significant about this signal nobody aboard Amarok has any clue about?”

“Alright, let’s get a move on,” Eclipse raised his voice as he poked his head into the compartment. “We need you all geared up ASAP. The sooner you leave, the sooner we can finish.” Returning to the seat next to the infiltration tunnel, he immediately went through the insertion procedures.

“I think we’re good to go here,” Obsidian called out, looking to the others for confirmation. Exiting the compartment, he moved up beside Eclipse. “How exactly are six of us going to fit in the aircraft? Thought those were two-seaters.”

“The Forge’s modifications were more than simply replacing what little armour it had with ceramics and a power absorption layer,” Eclipse explained. “All non-essential hardware, including weapons were removed to make room for four extra passengers and your cargo, and the engine was replaced with one compatible with both space and atmospheric flight. Now I won’t lie, the flight will be anything but smooth. From what I’ve been told though, Sparky is an excellent flyer. He will take command of the Forge for the duration of the atmospheric flight.”

“Sparky, huh? Never would have guessed. Right, let’s get this over with then.” As soon as the tunnel activated, and its beam was stable, Obsidian ascended the ramp and went through, emerging in the aircraft at the other end.

The modifications to the Forge were distinct, clearly out of place with the rest of the aircraft. The two original seats were side-by-side, and their flight controls were supplemented with additional inputs and readouts that stood out from the original equipment. Two additional rows of seats were welded behind and progressively outboard in a delta configuration. With the last of the Infiltrators rising up through the floor, Obsidian turned his attention to the back of the cabin, where several wall-anchored straps were attached to secure their crates.

As Swift and Shift secured the cargo, Sparky strapped himself in to the left seat at the front, while Shadow did the same on the right. Obsidian took the left seat in the last row, and Glare seated herself just ahead, leaving the twins to settle in to the remaining seats while Shadow went through her checklists.

“Psst! Hey, Shift,” Swift whispered.

“Yeah?”

“If Sparky’s got flight experience, doesn’t that mean he’s talked at some point? I mean, I don’t think comms are effective when you just grunt, eh? Unless you grunt in horse code.”

“Oh yeah. Always wondered what he sounds like.”

The occupants lurched into their seats as Shadow released the couplings securing the aircraft to Amarok. The lower hull of the destroyer dropped under their field of view as the zebra continued to ascend away from it, revealing a faint planetary ring in the distance.

Swift leaned closer to his brother and continued whispering. “Five bits says he’s got a filly’s voice and that’s why he never talks,” he snickered.

“Amarok, Forge is clear,” Shadow’s voice cut in.

“Copied,” Quasar’s voice returned through a loudspeaker. “We’ve positioned ourselves to provide you with the simplest entry, so you’ll need to perform a retrograde burn until your periapsis matches the planet’s mean radius of five-six-one-two klicks. Your mission area on the other side of the planet is approximately five-zero metres above sea level, so this should be a reasonable approximation when factoring atmospheric drag. Once you’ve entered the atmosphere, adjust velocity as needed and begin your search for a landing site. We’ll keep this channel open for the duration of your mission.”

“Understood, Amarok. Adjusting heading to retrograde,” Shadow replied, yawing the aircraft until it faced the opposite direction, and causing everyone’s harnesses to strain slightly as they experienced a moderate centripetal force. “Initiating de-orbit burn.” Pushing the throttle to full, a brief high-pitched whine came from the engines, before the interior reverberated with the engine’s continuous blast of combustion.

This time, the force of acceleration pinned the occupants to their seats as the aircraft continued to rumble. “I see … inertial dampeners were considered … ‘non-essential’,” Glare commented through gritted teeth.

“I don’t think the original design ever had any,” Shadow shouted over the thundering roar.

By the time the Forge had finished its burn and returned to a prograde heading, Amarok was no longer visible, and had likely travelled past the horizon. Relieved at no longer being subjected to the immense forces of acceleration, many of the occupants loosened their restraints slightly, remaining somewhat in place in the weightless environment.

“Guess we have a few hours to spare,” Swift remarked, unbuckling himself and floating towards the front. “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with ‘S’.”

“Space,” Shift answered immediately, floating up beside him and looking out at the view.

“Yep.”

“I spy with my little eye, something beginning with ‘P’.”

“Planet.”

“Yep.”

“I sp—”

“Guys, can you two just … not be yourselves for the duration of this flight?” Glare pleaded.

Rolling their eyes, they both turned towards the unicorn. “You must be single, right?” Swift asked.

Glare blinked, thrown off by the random question. “Umm … yes? Why?”

“Because despite how attractive we might think you are, you’re just sooooo boring!” Shift continued, rolling through the air as he finished.

“I’m … just going to ignore that.”

“Look, all we’re saying is that you might wanna to loosen up a bit. I doubt you’re gonna like staying alone for ever, or worse, hooking up with somepony with a stick up their flan—”

“Knock it off, you two,” Shadow raised her voice. Pulling out a small pack from a nearby stowage, she threw it behind her at the twins. “Go play cards if you’re so bored.”

Catching the deck, Shift looked down at the colourful packaging, then back towards Shadow. “In zero G? How’re we supposed to do that?”

“You’re a creative pair. Figure something out.”

Pulling a few cards out, Shift held them out in front of him and withdrew his hoof. The cards hovered in place and rotated slightly, their motion dampened and eventually halted by air resistance and the surrounding cards they collided with. “Yeah, this could work. Dealer’s gonna have to sit on the deck somehow though. Who’s in? Five card draw?”

Sparky’s ears perked up. Releasing his restraints, he floated towards the twins and sat on the aisle just ahead of the second row with his legs crossed. Even while sitting, his head touched the ceiling enough to keep him from moving about.

“Heh, I figured the stereotype about diamond dogs and gambling was true,” Shift chuckled. “Not sure what we’re betting with though.”

“Flank whoopings, if I see any betting going on back there,” Shadow interjected, not taking her eyes off her instruments.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Shift pulled a face behind the zebra, before turning back to the others. “Oi, Siddy! You wanna—” he cut himself off, sighting the changeling with his eyes closed and mouth slightly agape. “Sleep. Never mind. What about you Glare? You in?”

“Uhh, I’ve never played any card games before.”

Swift leaned towards Shift, shaking his head in dramatic disappointment. “It’s worse than I thought. Righty, get your yellow butt over here. It’s time somepony showed you—”

Shift jammed a hoof into his brother’s mouth. “Yeah, I don’t think so. I’ll show her how it’s really done!”

As the pair started arguing, Glare felt a heavy tap on her shoulder. Looking to the side, she saw Sparky nudging her, before he beckoned her towards him. Undoing her restraints, she settled beside the diamond dog, floating prone, while the twins paused and looked at the two.

“Alright”—Shift shrugged—“I guess she’s picking the mute as her mentor.”

Sparky’s only response was to raise his middle digit at the pegasus.

“Obsidian, wake up.” Glare prodded the changeling. “We’re starting to skim the atmosphere.”

Yawning, Obsidian stretched, his body contorting and cracking on occasion as he did so. His team appeared to be strapped in, with Swift and Shift unusually silent after losing multiple times to Glare and Sparky. The two simply sat in their respective seats with their hooves crossed, a subtle pout on their faces.

“Transferring control,” Shadow announced. “All yours, Sparky.”

Looking outside, Obsidian found the blue layer of gas around the planet had risen to their level, with the aircraft aligned on the horizon, rather than the orbital path. Off in the distance, a wall of grey clouds flashed menacingly at regular intervals with arcs of purple and blue. Before any of the three could comment on what dangers the weather system held, the surrounding air started heating the Forge’s ceramic layer, bringing with it increasingly higher levels of turbulence. While the aircraft allowed the atmosphere to reduce its speed, Sparky continued to adjust the pitch and roll of the craft, until it descended to a lower altitude and finally became subsonic.

As more of the clouds came into view, Shift leaned forward. “Faaaaark, that’s gotta be the worst looking weather system I’ve ever seen! Whaddaya think Swift?”

“Think I’m gonna need to tighten my harness, that’s what I think. I’ve never seen a cumulonimbus that big in my life.” The pegasus pulled at his straps, visibly nervous about the countless overlapping clouds, each with their trademark anvil-shaped tops. “If these behave like the CBs back home, you’re looking at some powerful down-bursts and up-drafts. And where there are CBs—”

“—there’s hail. Judging by the size of those clouds, huge chunks of hail,” Shift finished. “Like two kilo lumps. Shadow, I really think we oughta fly around these clouds. Or even risk going under them. Anything but through them.”

“This weather covers the entire continent. We wouldn’t have the fuel to make it anywhere close to our objective if we deviate from the optimum flight-path,” Shadow replied while monitoring the primary flight display. The instruments indicated they were approaching forty thousand metres, with speed stabilising at approximately one hundred and sixty metres per second. “Okay Sparky, we should be safe to jettison the ceramic armour whenever you’re ready.”

As Sparky flipped the plastic guard and hit the switch underneath, multiple minuscule charges embedded within the armour detonated, cracking it enough for the airflow to blow away the crumbling remains and expose the darker power absorption armour underneath. As they continued down and over the edge of storm, the up-drafts made themselves known, pushing the aircraft up with force, before weakening and causing the aircraft to drop. The cycle only intensified as they flew closer and skimmed the tops of the highest clouds.

The Forge’s occupants almost jumped through their harnesses as a bolt of lightning struck with a resounding boom. Pressing her face against the side of the canopy, Glare could barely see where they had been hit. “Uhh, you think that was harmless to us? Isn’t that what this layer of armour is for?”

Visibility soon became non-existent, as the sky turned grey. Sparky relied on his instruments to keep the aircraft pointed in the right direction, while fighting forces that attempted to wring them like a wet towel. Glare appeared nauseous and Obsidian gripped the sides of his seat tightly, while the twins were visibly sweating.

A second bolt struck the starboard wing, and the aircraft veered off-course for a moment. Sparky seemed to be the only one not bothered by the strikes, though even Shadow appeared concerned as a third and fourth struck in rapid succession on other parts of the fuselage. At one point, she and Glare yelped as an apple-sized lump of hail shattered against the canopy with a deep crunch. Small shards of ice slid off as trace amounts of water from the impact quickly froze. Proceeding further into the clouds, the six could hear hailstones striking other parts of the aircraft with increasing frequency.

“Shadow, how are we—buzzing—how are we doing with altitude?” Obsidian asked, fed up with the countless times his head had knocked against the side of the interior each time a particularly violent gust threw the aircraft sideways.

The zebra struggled with the small readout, as the turbulence grew intense enough to wildly jolt the occupants. “We just passed fifteen thousand metres.”

Another strike hit the starboard wing. Craning her neck, Glare could see the rest of the wing. To her horror, the point where it had been struck was glowing white-hot, and the wing bent upwards briefly, before the outer half completely separated, swallowed up by the surrounding clouds, while the Forge banked in towards the damaged side.

“Okay, that’s not a good sign,” Glare’s voice cracked. “Sparky, I don’t suppose you’re still able to land what’s left of this thing?”

As they passed five thousand metres and broke through the cloud base, they finally had their mission area in sight. Sparky still showed no signs of stress as he managed to keep the aircraft stable, despite missing a large portion of a wing. As Sparky began to approach the location of their objective just past the industrial area, another alarm sounded.

“Radar lock?” Glare barely made out a flashing warning on the panel between Shadow and Sparky. “That’s … not what I think it means, is it?”

Confirming her suspicions, a flash of light appeared on the ground ahead of them, and a small object took off, leaving behind a large plume of smoke in its wake. Cutting his engine thrust, Sparky pulled the aircraft into a tight turn, stalling it as he did so, while the incoming missile raced past and circled around. Recovering with only a few thousand metres to spare, he attempted another turn, this time dodging the missile by metres. The remaining intact wing eventually gave way, tearing itself free from the rest of the aircraft as the weakened structure could no longer take any more abuse.

Multiple alarms shrieked at the pilots, as they fell the last thousand metres to the ground. Glare’s screams drowned out the twins’. Obsidian could see the unicorn’s horn working in panic, sparking and fizzing out as she made multiple attempts at a spell. Within seconds, the aircraft tumbled through several tall buildings and impacted a large patch of soil on the other end, sending a cloud of dust and smoke into the air.

Shortly after, the pursuing missile followed, incinerating the immediate surroundings in a fiery explosion.

16: Radiation (Part 2)

“Glare! Glare!”

The unicorn could barely hear the muffled voice through the ringing in her ears. Her blurred double vision hadn’t helped either, though she felt herself being dragged momentarily, before the sensation stopped. Despite her disoriented state, she attempted to stand, before being gently pushed back by the black figure above her.

“No,” the voice spoke up, slightly clearer than before. “Let’s keep you still until we’re sure you’re okay.”

“Obsidian? What—what happened?” Glare coughed, realising the fumes of something burning nearby was irritating her lungs.

“You saved our lives, that’s what happened. Your little light glyph spell managed to work just before we hit the ground.”

Glare’s vision began to focus. “How did I manage that? I’ve never been able to make it strong enough to withstand much.”

“I may have assisted with the potency of your spell.” Wincing, Obsidian moved around and started gently prodding Glare’s neck.

“What’s wrong? You okay?”

“Well, you know how your spell burned the floor when I, uhh, overcharged it aboard Amarok? I think I got a few second degree burns. The others? Well, you’ll have to see for yourself. Sparky looks like an oversized mole rat with all his fur burned off, but I think his thicker skin saved him from the fate of the others.”

While Obsidian continued to inspect the unicorn, Glare tensed up. “Wait, they’re not—”

“No, no. Their burns are slightly worse, that’s all. I think they’ve used up all the burn gel and dressings we’ve got. And before you get too worried”—Obsidian quickly added, feeling the tension in Glare increase—“every follicle on your body appears intact. I’m guessing you’re immune, or at least resistant to your own spell.”

Glare only tensed up more. “Uhh, Obsidian? I think you might be getting a little too grabby with my horn the—OUCH, oww, what was that for?”

Obsidian took a step back and sat on the ground. “Well, the good news is, you don’t appear to have any significant injuries, and your VMUI isn’t showing anything internal. I’m no medic, but I’m pretty sure you just channelled a little too much magic through that horn of yours.”

“And the bad news?”

“I don’t have any medication that would help alleviate your symptoms. You’ll probably be stuck with a nasty migraine for a few hours. Anyway, the others are holed up nearby. Shadow has already let Amarok know we’re still alive. I’ve also informed them that if I find the genius who gave us this brilliant mission, I’ll make sure they never have foals again. Now, can you move on your own?”

“I think so.” Glare got to her hooves shakily, only to fall face-first into the dirt. Spitting out some soil, she mumbled incoherently.

“Right, you’re still disoriented. Come on.”

Obsidian lifted Glare and draped her across his back, ignoring the stinging of his burns. Moving away from the debris-filled crater still containing a few dying flames, he took the unicorn to the rest of the group sheltered in one of the smaller, more intact buildings across the street. Entering, he found the rest of his team sitting around a small pile of their equipment, salvaging whatever they could from the charred or battered remains, and sorting the usable from the unusable.

Swift was the first to look up. “Aww, no fair! Glare did this to us, yet she ends up untouched?”

“She saved your life, chicken wings,” Obsidian snapped, depositing the unicorn nearby. “You should be thanking her.”

“Easy for you to say”—Shift pointed at the changeling with a featherless wing, bandaged to match the rest of his body—“since you’ve got no fur.”

“And therefore I had the least amount of insulation, so stop whining,” Obsidian barked at the pegasi, their attitudes starting to get on his nerves. Ensuring Glare was comfortable, he moved towards the equally bandaged zebra, muttering, “I would have thought mummifying them with the dressings would shut them up. How’s our inventory looking, Shadow?”

Shadow hummed, a slight frown on her face. “Could be worse. Most of our rations survived, but the munition and camping crates suffered the most damage. Our Jait looks badly damaged, but I might be able to repair it. We’re down an LR-four-eight and six-eight, though. That leaves us with a six-eight, nine-eight, plus three four-eights. Given our current states though, I’m more concerned about how we will carry everything else. I expect our blistering to be light, but painful enough from chafing to be a hindrance while carrying equipment.”

“Here’s hoping the medication is as good as it claims to be. Right, so what’s the plan? What did Amarok have to say?”

“Our objectives haven’t changed, so we’ll take a quick rest, monitor our symptoms, and act accordingly.” Looking towards the unicorn, Shadow raised her voice. “Glare, once you’re ready, take your equipment from the crate over there, and see how much extra you can carry, with and without magic. We’ll need to know how to distribute everything else.”

“Okay.” Glare rolled onto her back. The world still spun around her, though not as intensely as it did earlier on. “I think I’ll be fine in a bit.”

“Obsidian, as you’re now our only flight-capable member, I’ll need you to check the perimeter and confirm it’s secured. See if anything nearby needs to be marked for orbital strike while you’re at it, and figure out which direction we should head in first. Take whatever equipment you need, but I’ll need you mobile.”

Obsidian nodded, and immediately rummaged through the crates, donning his helmet and GCU, which had rearranged into grey, urban camouflage patterns. Securing a pulsar carbine, along with his side bags, he grimaced as his equipment caused the uniform to rub against his body with each hoofstep. Once outside, he inspected the immediate surroundings and took flight.

Shadow watched until the changeling was out of sight, and turned to the remaining members of her team. “Swift, Shift, since you’re grounded, I’ll need you both carrying extra equipment,” she continued, waiting for the groans of protest to stop. “Sparky, your role for this mission has changed. I’ll need you to work with Obsidian and myself for the scouting team. Glare, you, Swift and Shift will bring up the rear. Move up with us when safe to do so, and keep an eye on our backs.”

Obsidian hissed as he pushed through the burning pain in his wings, closing the last few metres between himself and the roof of the building. Perching himself at the corner, the office block provided a decent vantage point that revealed no immediate dangers. Though he did not have the chance to fully analyse his surroundings earlier, he found himself inspecting the finer details beyond the drab, crumbling buildings, all of which lacked intact panes of glass.

A perimeter of empty land surrounded each building, with tufts of tan-brown grass dead between patches of mud. Beside some buildings stood the occasional tree, leafless and lifeless. Others had their land bordered with what was once shrubbery. Littered sparsely in random locations were the skeletal remains of the planet’s inhabitants, partially buried in the ground. Their structure seemed similar to many of the bipedal species of the galaxy, though given the Infiltrators were the ones investigating the area, Obsidian assumed this planet was once home to a lesser-known race or faction.

As he looked off into the distance, Obsidian could make out places where roads had collapsed into the ground, revealing sewer pipes eaten away by rust, and utility tunnels lined with severed cables. Several contained large puddles of murky rainwater, and one particularly large collapsed section appeared to house an underground transportation stop of some kind. Two distant locations appeared to be smouldering ruins; the result of the Navy’s earlier bombardments.

After a combination of taps on his VMUI, Obsidian enabled the radiation sensor, tuned to the frequency of the objective. Displaying the navigational information on his CNS, he eyed the horizon in the direction of the source, reading the distance overlay that displayed ‘182 Km’. On occasion, a powerful wave of interference caused the location of the objective to jump about, before returning to its original position. Inspecting the different possible routes, Obsidian found that a direct approach would suffice, with only a couple of diversions to avoid potential vehicular patrols.

Though drizzle reduced visibility to a few kilometres, several buildings along the way had partially hidden objects at the edges of their roofs. Their twin rotary barrels were the identifying features of the defensive emplacements mentioned in the briefing. Another few taps on his device enabled the marking feature Obsidian was meant to use for relaying positioning data to Amarok, and immediately, a targeting reticle appeared on his CNS.

It took several attempts for Obsidian to get positive locks on the targets. After his helmet’s optics zoomed in, he moved his head around like an owl listening for its prey, until a positive tone sounded, and a marker surrounded each target.

A weak audio signal met Obsidian’s ears shortly after, riddled with static noise. “Recon Alpha, Amarok confirms targeting data. Estimated time until torpedo impact, six minutes.”

“Understood Amarok,” Obsidian replied. “Alpha out.”

The changeling lied down on his belly, letting his left wing hang over the roof’s edge, while the other spread out beside him. As he waited for the strike, he continued inspecting other possible targets, finding none that could be seen. So far, he detected no movement from any vehicles supposedly lurking about, though he paid particular attention to anything that could have resembled anti-aircraft defences.

As the minutes dragged on, Obsidian finally heard something howl overhead. The noise grew louder, until multiple torpedoes pierced the thick grey clouds vertically, hitting their targets with precision.

A sphere of blue plasma radiated out from each impact point with a quick flash, and a blast wave gave each explosion the appearance of a second, more transparent shell as it expanded. Obsidian felt the explosions more than he heard them, their shock-waves shaking his body to the core with a single pulse each. As the plasma dispersed into the atmosphere, he watched many of the surrounding offices and warehouses fall, throwing dust into the air and causing the ground to rumble.

After several minutes waiting for any additional movement from possible threats, Obsidian rolled over, dropping down and gliding back to the ground to the rest of his team. After a few flaps to slow his descent, he landed a few metres from his team. “Area secured, Shadow. I’ve identified our initial heading and took out multiple turrets.”

“Thank you Obsidian. We’re ready to move out. I think I got the Jait operational, too.”

Emerging from their shelter, the six split in half, with Obsidian, Sparky and Shadow leading the way, while the others trailed behind. Though Obsidian was reasonably confident there were no identifiable threats for at least one or two kilometres, he and the others stuck to the uneven footpath adjacent to the street. Beside him, he could see Shadow looking multiple times at the ground.

When the two made eye contact, Shadow explained, “Curious. These paths are made with slabs of stone. The street as well. That’s why they’re all smooth from erosion. I’m guessing from frequent rain, if these clouds are anything to go by.”

“Is that something worth noting?”

“No, just a random observation. Everything seems to be made primarily of stone. Not even Canterlot has this much of it, and it’s situated on a mountain.”

“Uh huh …”

Hugging the walls of any buildings they passed by, the group frequently stopped to scan their surroundings before proceeding. Turning to the rear group, they signalled for them to move up when satisfied it was safe to do so, before proceeding past the next building, or significant location of cover. After the first half hour, they slowed their pace, paying more attention to their environment. Dead silence, had it not been for the wind whistling through door and window frames of nearby buildings. The lack of flowing water, leaves rustling, or birds and insects calling had given the place an eerie, ominous feel. For Obsidian, being able to hear the faint echoes of their hoofsteps simply added to that.

Deciding it was too quiet, the twins began to hum to no tune in particular. After a few minutes, the eldest started to sing, making rhymes up as he went along.

Gonna go find me some radiation
In this … uh, ugly little nation
But if this is a pointless operation
I’ll be filled with, umm … frustration?

“Fillies and gentlecolts, I present to you your next Coloratura!” The other pegasus smacked Shift upside the head with his wing. “Shift, you suck.”

“Piss off, bandage butt. I don’t see you doing any better!”

Kookaburra sat on the comm line wire
Someone made a call, set his ass on fire—

“Something original, numb-nuts!”

“Whatever. I know I can’t sing to save my life. I’m an excellent listener though, and my ears are telling me you sound like a minotaur giving birth to farm equipment.”

A few metres ahead with the only two intact crates levitating to either side of her, Glare sighed and shook her head. Checking her VMUI, she selected a sensor screen on the interface. Rotating her hoof with a quick flick, she scrolled to a section labelled ‘O2 Density Altitude’, and read a value of ‘5887 m’. Well, it’s a little high, but I can’t attribute that to hypoxia. And they’re pegasi, anyway. They’re more adapted to it than any of us.

Ahead, Obsidian stopped dead in his tracks, his ears twitching and swivelling towards the corner of a building across the street. He could just make out a high-pitched whining noise that drew nearer. Before Shadow could ask what was wrong, the changeling quickly glanced around, sighting no usable cover, with the closest building to them filled with rubble from the inside. Pushing the others towards the nearest corner, he signalled the other three to hide, before joining up with Shadow and Sparky.

Peering past the corner, Obsidian waited for whatever approached to become visible. While he and Shadow charged their carbines, Sparky tightened his grip on the J8. As the front of a vehicle came into view, he could identify two parallel barrels, seven or eight metres in length, while a domed cylinder protruded from the forward left and right corners at an angle.

Coming to a halt in the middle of the street intersection, the changeling could see the rear half of the vehicle; a semicircular band or ring surrounding what Obsidian guessed might have been a third cylinder facing backwards. At the base of the barrels, a vertical structure with small windows extended upwards. Most notably, the tattered red and black vehicle hovered a couple of metres off the ground, causing a down-burst that sent dust into the surrounding air.

As the vehicle turned on the spot and accelerated down the street towards the six, Obsidian pulled himself away from the corner, crouching low with his carbine ready. Shadow followed suit beside Obsidian, while Sparky simply waited. After it came into view, the vehicle slowed rapidly and began to turn towards Shadow’s group, as if sensing their presence. Without hesitation, Sparky fired two rounds, a fizzing pulse accompanying each. Each ball of plasma soared in an arc, leaving behind a small trail.

The first round landed at the barrels’ base, melting the metal and causing the weapon to fall off with a loud clang against the ground. The second round struck the vehicle’s forward-right cylinder, which ruptured and erupted with black smoke and streaks of electricity. Listing towards the damaged side, the vehicle side-slipped. Seeing this, Obsidian and Shadow fired multiple times at the left cylinder, tearing up the chassis’ forward half in the ensuing explosion. The remainder of the vehicle tilted forward, coming into contact with the street and emitting a loud screech, like a griffon’s talons on a blackboard, before the rear half dropped. Shadow’s group quickly retreated from the corner of the building, as the vehicle collided nearby at low speed and came to a halt.

“Damn, fellas,” Shift called out, as he and the others moved up and reunited. “Nice aim!”

“Do you think more will come, Shadow?” Glare asked, dropping her crates nearby.

The zebra stared at the remains of the machine. “Not sure. We were told the behaviour of these machines are unknown. I say we take a break nearby and see what happens. We’ll need to know how these vehicles will respond, if the science team encounters one we miss.”

“That building looks accessible,” Obsidian suggested, pointing to the one the vehicle originally appeared around. “Looks like a skyway on the third floor that could get us into the building across the street, too.”

“Good visibility, and keeps our options open,” Shadow stated. Nodding, she faced the changeling. “Obsidian, head there now and keep an eye out for anything that might approach our position. The rest of you, set up mines in the middle of the street, twenty-five and fifty metres from the intersection at all sides. I’ll plant a few remote demolitions ten metres out each way.”

After a five-minute rush, the group ascended the stairs of the building they would rest in. As the last of the six arrived at the edge of the skyway, they removed their gear, stretching and lying across the cold stone floor, its surface littered with the remnants of carpeting. Obsidian and Sparky positioned themselves at either corner of the skyway at one building’s end, while Shadow and Glare were at another. Swift and Shift decided to explore the floor in both buildings, rummaging through debris comprised of collapsed furniture in what appeared to be an office firm.

“Hey Sparky,” Obsidian began, loud enough just for the diamond dog to hear. “I want to apologise about before, with the whole emotion reading thing. I never meant to invade your privacy. It’s an involuntary thing we ‘lings can’t block out. Whatever your reasons, I respect that.”

Eyeing the changeling over, Sparky merely shrugged and returned his gaze to the distant streets. Deciding not to push it, Obsidian remained quiet.

At the opposite end of the skyway, Shadow looked away from the street underneath them, and towards the unicorn. “How are you holding up, Glare? Still have the headache?”

“Hmm? Oh, uhh, just a little. Obsidian said it would go away after a few hours, but I think the worst passed already. The strange thing is that I’ve cast that spell before, without any ill effects. Perhaps I cast several in one go while I was panicking? That could explain it.”

“It would seem your capacity for magic is higher than you think, then. Anyway, I know I didn’t mention this earlier on, but thanks. For the save.”

Glare looked down at the floor. “I … had some help with that.”

Looking over at the changeling twenty metres away, she turned back to Glare. “Obsidian’s magic?”

Glare looked up in shock. “You know?” Glancing at the changeling, she dropped her voice to a whisper. “How do you know about that?”

“Why are you wh—”

“He has very good hearing.”

“Oh,” Shadow whispered as well. “Well, it’s not exactly a secret among the crew.”

Glare’s eyes went wide. “I uhh, don’t think we should mention that to him. I don’t exactly know why myself, but I think it’s an embarrassing thing for him.”

“Oi Shadow, you got a sec?” Shift called out from behind the pair.

Facing the pegasus, Shadow gave Shift an unimpressed look when she saw him wearing several thin gold bangles on his ears. “Take those things off, you look like a fool.”

“Aww, you’re no fun.” Shift threw the jewellery behind him into a collapsed pile of eroded furniture. He then reached into one of his side bags and presented a small, plastic device with buttons to the zebra. “Righty, are you able to look at this thing I found? Was in a bunch of bones back there. Thing still seems to have some power in it. There, try the second button.”

Taking the black device, Shadow looked it over with curiosity. Pressing the button Shift pointed to, she could hear faint audio coming from a built-in speaker. Placing the device to her ear, a hysteric voice spoke in an alien language, stuttering and yelling. At one point, the voice cut off, replaced by the sound of distant rumbling, before the speaker screamed over the sound of a whooshing noise. Shortly after, the audio cut off.

“Whaddaya make of that?”

“Not sure. Though if this is some kind of voice recorder, perhaps translating the language might give insight into what happened here.” Shadow continued to look over the device. On the back, she could make out an embossed design. Possibly a logo. Otherwise, the seamless device lacked any interesting features. “Keep this with you. We’ll send it to Aurora.”

Several more minutes passed. Deciding the group had stayed long enough, Shadow ordered the others to pack up and leave, disarming the demolitions and mines. When the last one had returned to its crate, the six split into their groups again and continued their journey.

Street by street, block by block, the group meticulously scanned every detail of the dilapidated region, peering around corners, looking through buildings, and ensuring nothing would surprise them as the hours dragged on. If the waning light was any indication, the sun had started to set.

The scouting group stood at the corner of a warehouse, the contents of which included large machinery and production lines, half-buried beneath the collapsed metal roof. Just across the street was one final office building, and beyond was a bridge spanning a riverbed containing a mere trickle in it. Listening for signs of activity, the three heard naught but the wind, and occasional distant explosions from turrets and missile silos marked for orbital strikes earlier on.

Shadow gave the trailing group several hoof gestures, signalling them to move up, while she crossed the wide street with the others. A fissure zigzagged through its entire length in the second closest lane. “Look at this place,” Shadow commented to Obsidian, as she jumped over the crevice. As soon as Obsidian was across, she continued. “How did an entire planet become uninhabitable like this? Not even a single sign of pest—”

The three froze in place, as a high-pitched whirr behind and above them caught their attention. Turning around, they found another turret emerging from a window on the upper portion of the warehouse, turning to face them.

“MOVE!” Obsidian yelled pushing the other two towards the next building. The group had been no more than ten metres from the entrance when the turret spun up its weapons and unleashed a fiery metal hailstorm at the ground near them. Ripping up the street closer and closer to the group, Obsidian raced ahead, firing his pulsar multiple times at the doors and crashing through the remains, with the others not far behind.

Shadow dived past the door frame. Rolling, she returned to her hooves effortlessly and glanced back. As Sparky reached the entrance, several golden orbs followed behind, each creating individual barriers just behind the diamond dog that broke up after a few hits from the turret. Looking behind him as he joined up with Obsidian and Shadow, he could see Glare across the street, clutching her head as her spells quickly drained her.

Losing track of the three, the relentless turret continued pummelling through the stone, rapidly chipping away at the structure and flinging shrapnel in random directions. With no time to rest, Obsidian, Shadow and Sparky scrambled deeper into the building, seeking shelter further within.

“Keep moving through!” Shadow shouted, approaching the skeletal remains of another entrance door on the opposite end, though losing a race with a crack snaking across the ceiling.

“Heads up!” Obsidian tackled the zebra out of the way of falling debris. Pulling Shadow away and towards the rumble of the turret behind them, they watched as the ceiling caved in, blocking their only exit. Frantically scanning the area, Obsidian pointed to a door with a familiar sign. “Stairs!”

Shadow burst through the fire stairs’ door, scrambling up the cracking stairwell, while Sparky bounded up multiple steps at a time, and Obsidian flew directly up the empty space in the centre. Crumbling could be heard a few floors below, as the group made their way out from the collapsing stairwell on the sixth floor. Moving through the rooms, they split up and made their way towards the turret, which at this point seemed to be demolishing random parts of the building.

Obsidian peeked around the corner of a large concrete support column, and sighted the turret. “There it is.” He raised his pulsar, the size of the turret allowing him to get a clear shot. A flash of bright blue streaked out of his carbine, impacting the central assembly of the turret and scattering the deadly beam in multiple directions.

The turret ceased firing. Facing Obsidian, it spun up once more.

“Oh buzz me!”

The changeling whipped back behind the column, seeking refuge as the turret unleashed another furious barrage at his cover. Keeping the column between him and certain death, he vaulted over desks and cubicles, retreating to Shadow’s position. Sparky remained hidden behind another column, but so far had not gained the turret’s attention.

“Obsidian!” Glare was shouting through their comms channel. “Are you guys alright?”

“We’re pinned down on the sixth floor. Can't get to a safe window and lower escape routes blocked. Continuing to higher floors.”

“Anything we can do?”

The changeling dived behind another column. “Our pulsars have no noticeable effect on the turret. Are you able to reposition across the street and try the nine-eight?”

“We’re going now. Hold o—” Glare’s voice was no longer audible, cut off by the sound of multiple pulses, and an explosion that shook the building.

As the rumble died down and the echoes faded, the zebra and changeling poked their heads out from the remains of their cover. Silhouetted against brightly burning flames in place of where the turret once was, Sparky stood with his J8 venting at his side. He turned around, nodding to the other two.

The group headed to the edge of the building and inspected the warped remains of the turret. Below, Glare, Swift, and Shift also poked their heads out from around the corner, flinching as the turret fell to the ground. The impact boomed throughout the street, and several of the turret’s barrels detached. The six watched as the barrels rolled away, jumping into the air as they each hit the kerb, before hitting the front of another building.

“Obsidian,” Shadow spoke up, leaning over the window frame. “Are you able to fly us down?”

“Should be able to. Might not be a smooth landing for you though, Sparky.”

As the final sliver of daylight slipped past the horizon, the team found themselves crossing the wide, bascule bridge. Travelling past the small bridge control building on the other side, Shadow glanced around. “It’s getting too dark”—she shuddered, feeling the effects of the sudden drop in temperature—“and cold. We should probably stay here for the night.”

Breaking down the door with a hard push of his paw, Sparky entered first and propped the remains back up onto the frame after the others entered. Looking around, the team found a small office, a storage room, and the control room of the tiny single-level building.

“Looks good enough to me,” Obsidian concluded. “I’d suggest we hole up in the storage room. No windows. Better concealment. That, and it won’t be as cold.”

“Agreed. Let’s unpack then. Glare, please take the crates into the storage room,” Shadow ordered, placing her bags in the room’s corner, just opposite to the door. “Who’s on first watch with me?”

Sparky volunteered, clearing a small space beside the window in the office. Placing his weapon down near the window, he dragged a chair into position. Pulling out a flip lighter and cigar from a sealed container, he lit it before sitting down and leaning back.

“Hey, where’d you get those?” Glare raised an eyebrow, as Sparky pointed in the direction they had been come from. “Have—have you been looting along the way?”

The diamond dog replied with a sheepish grin and a shrug. Returning his gaze to the window, he took a puff, and watched the exhaled smoke fly up into the cloudy sky.

“I suppose if it’s been abandoned, it won’t be missed,” Obsidian reasoned. “Guess I’ll take second watch, so long as you’re with me, Glare.”

“Huh? Why?”

Obsidian turned his head towards the twins at the other end of the room, who had not heard anything. Facing Glare again, he replied, “I think you know why.”

“Ah. Of course.” Glare started rummaging through the crates. A confused expression soon grew on her face. “Uhh, Shadow? I count only two sleeping bags. Where are the others?”

“The other four were burned beyond use.”

“I bags Glare’s bag!” Shift blurted out.

“Nuh uh, I’m pulling seniority here, little bro,” Swift proclaimed. “As the eldest, I say that bag is mine!”

“Stop calling me little!” Shift ripped one of his brother’s burn dressings off, tearing a small blister with it and eliciting a feminine shriek from Swift.

Swift retaliates by ripping one of Shift’s bandages off, to no effect. Shift smirked. “Ha, suck it Swift! Guess I didn’t get burned enough to have any blist—AAAAAAAAAA!” he shrieked, as another bandage tore off with the intended effect.

“What the buzz are you two doing?” Obsidian hissed. “You idiots are going to give our position away to every machine in a hundred klick radius! Shut the buzz up and share your own damn bag.”

“Hey, he started—”

“Unless you’re announcing a threat or passing on mission-related information, I don’t want to hear anything else from either of you.”

“Humph,” Swift and Shift replied in unison, wiggling into their bags as the changeling headed away.

“They’re like foals, aren’t they?” Glare whispered, moving to the side of her bag to make room for Obsidian.

The changeling rolled his eyes. “Worse. I’m tempted to swap with one of them so you can I could supervise each one, but after today, I just want to get some rest.” Seeing Glare move, he stopped her. “Keep the bag for yourself. I’ll be fine on the floor.”

“Are you sure? I don’t have any problems sharing with a—with you.”

“It’s fine.” Curling up in a corner, Obsidian took a final glance at Glare. “Night.”

“Hey. Obsidian. You awake?” a voice whispered. A brief pause and a tap of a hoof against the changeling later, “Wake up. Your turn for watch.”

Obsidian groaned, bringing himself upright with about as much grace as a stallion after a late night pub crawl. Rubbing his eyes, he focused on the zebra in front of him. “Sitrep?”

“Not a sound since. Saw a couple of lights moving off in the distance over there, but nothing I think we should be concerned about from here. Oh, and last contact with Amarok was three hours ago. Give it an hour, then report in.”

Obsidian stretched. “Got it. Sleep well.”

The changeling made his way out of the storage room, finding Glare already seated beside the window. He nodded as Glare turned towards the newcomer. Without a word, he took a seat beside the unicorn, pulling out a honey and nut bar from the nearest bag and offering a second one to Glare.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, still tired. The sound of packaging being torn open filled the room, as the pair took their respective bites. After the initial sounds of crunching ceased, the pair sat in silence, staring out the window. Several of the lower clouds raced past, as the wind howled around them. The bridge swayed ever so slightly, while a few dead trees arched, resisting the weather.

Obsidian was the first to speak. “So. Anything to talk about?”

“Not sure,” Glare replied, idly chewing. After another moment of silence, she spoke up, “Guess I could ask you a few more changeling-related questions if you’re okay with it. They … might be a little offensive though.”

“I’ve been verbally abused enough that I’m practically immune to it. Doubt any question you have would offend me.”

“Well, I’ve been wondering,” Glare paused, unsure how to word her question. Giving up, she decided to ask directly, “Are changelings actually related to insects?”

“That’s what you were afraid of asking?” Obsidian almost burst out laughing.

“What? It’s a legitimate question. It’s not like there are many reliable biological sources to learn from.”

Obsidian wiped a tear from his eye. “Alright, you’ve got a point there. To answer your question, no. Though we share several similarities, we’re from completely different phyla. Insects are arthropods, meaning they have an exoskeleton, but we, like you, are chordates. The most prominent feature of this phylum is a dorsal nerve, which in our case is a spinal cord. So already we are closer to ponies than insects.”

“Wait, so you don’t have an exoskeleton?”

“Nope. If we did, we’d be shedding them frequently to grow to our size. What we have are plates of cartilage, underneath a thin layer of taught, elastic skin”—Obsidian knocked on his chest—“though without any diagrams, trying to explain how it all works together with the joints, connecting tissue, and the actual endoskeleton would be rather difficult. Simply put, it’s like having lightweight armour in your body.”

“Huh. That must feel weird when you’re moving around.”

“I wouldn’t notice it any more than you’d notice the joints in your legs. Which is to say, not at all. One drawback is that we are prone to dislocations from hard impacts.”

“Like what happened after the seeding mission?”

“Yep. Usually, the dislocation isn’t particularly painful, but getting it back into place? Well, you saw how that went.”

“Wouldn’t you have been better off going to the infirmary afterwards?”

“Not really. Even if that Doctor knew anything about changeling anatomy, he’d have done something similar to realign my plates. Anyway, going back to changeling and pony taxonomy, we share everything down to the amniota classification, and split off from each other in one of the later sub-orders.”

“I … am honestly surprised by that information. How do you know all this, anyway?”

“When you’re called an insect your entire life, you tend to want to carry out a little research to see if there’s any merit of truth to those comments.”

“Oh, right. Sorry, silly question. But then at what point in changeling evolution were those holes deemed necessary”—Glare pointed, before inspecting her own hoof—“and what purpose do they have? I mean, hooves with holes don’t appear to be structurally superior to completely solid ones.”

“Ah, that’s where things get fuzzy. We don’t have a complete picture of our ancestry. Still, our hooves are durable. More so than yours, anyway. They flex a little as well, so they help to break falls, or put a spring in one’s step to gallop faster. However, our day-to-day life sees a different use for them, and that’s identification.”

“You recognise each other by the holes?”

“Uh huh. While ponies can tell each other apart with manes, tails, cutie marks and colours, ‘lings are generally identical in that sense, so the primary method of differentiating between each other are the holes.”

“That must get a little difficult to discern between several changelings. Doubt I’d be able to pick you out from a crowd. I mean, you all look the same. No offence.”

“None taken.”

A brief silence followed, before Glare giggled. Obsidian looked at her quizzically. “What?”

“Oh nothing. Just got a cute little mental image of you robbing a bank in a set of striped socks. No mask or cutie mark concealment. Just the socks.”

“Considering we can see through the illusions of other ‘lings, you’re not too far off from what we would do if we needed to disguise ourselves from others. That said, we also have a few distinctive markings in ultraviolet visible to us, so the combination of—” Obsidian cut himself off, his ears swivelling towards a sound. “You hear that?”

Glare frowned, listening. When she finally heard it, she straightened up. “Yeah, what is that?”

Off in the distance, the noise of a large, old engine approached, chugging in triplets. A second one was heard soon after. From over the distant hills, a pair of lights rose and descended towards the squad, bouncing up and down in a slow and shallow oscillation. Obsidian estimated the objects were less than half a kilometre away when he felt a tug.

“Get down, they will see us,” Glare hissed, pressed against the wall underneath the window sill.

Dropping beside the unicorn, Obsidian glanced at the J8 resting in the corner of the room. A shake of Glare’s head discouraged him from reaching for the weapon. As the noise of the vehicles intensified rapidly, the pair deduced that they intended to cross the bridge.

Reaching its peak, the noise began to fade away. Obsidian and Glare took a cautious peek from their respective corners of the window, squinting at the crude machines. Heading away from them at a moderate pace were two blocky, floating gun platforms, slightly narrower than the street they skimmed over, spewing out thick black gas from their exhausts underneath. A thin mast stood at the top of the rusty machines, the tips of which came the source of light, and a single autocannon was mounted to their right sides. To the left, a small cockpit hung underneath, open and exposed, though Obsidian saw both were unoccupied.

“Strange,” Glare remarked. “They look completely different to the one we encountered earlier on. Different colour schemes. Definitely inferior technology. Or is it just a coincidence?”

As the vehicles turned into a side street, Obsidian and Glare relaxed, settling back into their seats. While the unicorn reached for another snack, Obsidian recorded the path of each vehicle and transmitted the information to Amarok.

“Copied,” Eclipse’s garbled voice replied. “We’ll forward this information on to the science team.”

A yawn caught Obsidian’s attention, and he turned to find Glare covering her mouth. Catching sight of the changeling, she quickly shook her head and blinked hard. “Sorry. Still trying to wake up.”

“Hey, if you want to go back to sleep, it’s fine by me.”

“I don’t need asking twice.” Yawning again, Glare rolled back and onto her side. Clumping her mane into a makeshift pillow, she curled into a ball and closed her eyes.

“Glare,” Obsidian whispered, poking the unicorn. “Come on, our watch will end shortly.”

Righting herself, Glare rubbed the back of her neck. “Ugh, I think I slept funny.”

“Yeah, I don’t exactly know what you did, but I doubt it’s normal for ponies to twist like that when they sleep,” Obsidian commented, as he made his way towards the storage room. “I’ll go wake the idiots up.”

Entering the room, he crept past Sparky and Shadow’s bag, noting the latter seemed to be practically enveloped by the former, with the diamond dog’s arm serving as an additional blanket for the zebra. Continuing to the other occupied bag, Obsidian stopped beside the twins, giving the nearest one a soft kick.

“Hey, assholes, your turn for watch.”

“Mmmmrgh, buck you, bug pony,” a muffled voice came from within.

“Just for that, the next time we’re home, I’m paying an animal trainer to send you an escort of incontinent geese. Now hurry up.”

“Alright, alright, we’re up, we’re going,” the other grumbled, dragging himself out. “Hard-flank.”

Obsidian watched the pegasi lumber out of the room, before making his way back to his original sleeping corner. Looking down at Sparky and Shadow, he shivered, glancing between them, his corner, and the now empty bag for Glare. Ahh, buzz it. Turning around, he made his way back, worming into the sleeping bag.

Glare entered shortly after, wiggling in beside Obsidian. “So I’m guessing the corner was not as comfortable as you made it look earlier on?”

“It was alright before, when I couldn’t see myself breathing out, but I’ve got my limits.”

Glare continued adjusting herself. As she did, she bumped into Obsidian, flinching. “Wow, you’re freezing,” she commented, placing a hoof on Obsidian’s side.

“Thin skin, and thick cartilage, remember? Not much blood flowing near the surface. Good for delaying hypothermia, but the nerves are still there, so I feel the cold regardless. Any excuse for you to touch me though, huh?”

“Oh shut up.” Glare withdrew her hoof while Obsidian chuckled deeply. “Huh, so that’s what you sound like when you laugh. Don’t think I’ve noticed you laughing before. Genuinely, that is.”

“Guess I don’t find many reasons to in this job.” Obsidian looked down and fell silent. After a length of time, he opened his mouth again, “So anyway, I’m still convinced there’s something odd about this mission.”

“Hmm?”

“How significant must these readings be if after what happened to us in this first day, they still want us to move forward as if nothing happened? What could possibly be worth an investigation in a dangerous and unpredictable region outside any existing faction’s territory? In the heart of the Karos Graveyard, no less. From what I’ve heard, everyone avoids the Graveyard.”

“Not sure. Judging by the structures here, I’m guessing this place has been abandoned for a few millennia, so unless someone has made their home here again, it has to be some sort of natural phenomenon.”

“How can you tell the age?”

“I studied archaeology. Most of the buildings back there that still stand, whether partially or wholly, seem to be made primarily with reinforced stone. The construction method is unfamiliar to me, but I know of similar structures back home that are just as old. Hard to tell on this scale, considering this place seemed like a more modern society and might have had better maintenance methods than our own ancient buildings. If I were to guess based on the erosion patterns, though”—Glare looked up at the ceiling as she thought—“I’d say these buildings must have been around for at least three thousand years.”

Obsidian hummed. “Well, Eclipse specifically mentioned the readings appeared artificial. Too regular to be natural. Guess there has to be someone around. Or something.”

“No idea,” Glare paused, unable to come up with an explanation. “Mad scientist in a cave fortress of solitude?”

“Heh, funny. Right then. Don’t know how awake you are, but I think I’m going to call it a night.”

Glare lowered her head and turned away from the changeling. “Yeah, good idea. Night.”

…

“What the buzz?”

“What?”

Obsidian fidgeted, before replying. “I think this wet spot I’m touching is from Swift’s or Shift’s ripped blister.”

“Oh, I did not need to know that.”

“Remind me to murder them tomorrow. I’ll make it look like an accident.”

17: Radiation (Part 3)

Obsidian woke to the steady patter of rain against the soil outside. Cracking open his eyes, he could still see Sparky and Shadow still asleep at the other end of the room. As he tilted his head down, his face submerged into an amber mane. Quickly moving his head back, he felt a hoof rise and fall repeatedly. Realising he had wrapped himself around Glare, he discretely withdrew, rolling onto his back.

Viewing the world upside-down, he found daylight streaming in from underneath the door. Figuring he still had a few minutes before the group was to continue their journey, he closed his eyes with a silent yawn.

Noticing Glare stirring, Obsidian watched as she rolled over, filling the void between them. “Why’d you let out all the heat?” she muttered, wedging herself beside the changeling.

“Sorry,” Obsidian mumbled back.

The soothing sound of rain was short-lived, as Swift and Shift entered, bathing the room in light. “Rise and shine! Pack up your swags, fellas, it’s time to hit the road!”

As the group slowly readied themselves, the weather outside worsened. Studying the outside conditions, Obsidian estimated less than half a kilometre of visibility. Bringing up a map on his CNS, he studied the contour lines between their current position, and the objective area. The combination of an uphill gradient, a more rural environment, and the lack of visibility from the downpour placed them at a tactical disadvantage.

I hate being out in the open.

Despite his concerns, Obsidian and the rest of the team headed out into the weather as soon as they were geared up. Following a similar method of travelling, Obsidian, Shadow and Sparky led the way, with the others trailing no more than thirty metres behind.

Strong winds caused rain to pummel the six. While Glare used her crates as crude umbrellas, Shadow used her elemental magic to divert the incoming water. Lacking the ability to extend the effect to others, the remaining four could only thank the visors on their helmets for protecting their eyes from the wind and rain as they pressed on.

Deviating from the last road possible, the terrain quickly shifted to uneven, rocky formations, separated by small patches of muddy soil, slowing their advance as they navigated the area. Every few minutes, flashes of lightning would light up the sky, diffusing through the clouds, while the intensity of accompanying thunder would occasionally feel like a mild earthquake.

Several hours had already passed without incident, though instead of relief, Obsidian grew ever suspicious that the probability something were to happen was simply growing further to certainty. As the thought crossed his mind, he came to a halt, raising a hoof. Squinting, he saw the faint outlines of hundreds, if not thousands of small objects floating in the air. Wiping his visor, he continued to scan the objects, before calling Shadow up. “Am I seeing things, or do you see something ahead of us as well?”

Shadow squinted too, as she tried to understand what was at the edge of their visibility. “Looks like it. Can’t be much bigger than ourselves. Drones, perhaps?”

“What do you think? Find a way around, or test a strike on them?”

“I’d prefer to find a way around. We don’t know what those might be. If it’s a drone swarm, who knows what they’ll do. Hard to tell what level of technology this place once had.”

Obsidian nodded. “Stay put, I’ll be faster in the air.” He turned to the trailing group and signalled them his group’s intentions, before heading parallel to the wall of floating objects.

Despite half an hour of flying, there seemed to be no end in sight to the blockade. Obsidian opened his map mid-air, overlaying his position history on it. Coming to a conclusion, he opened his comms channel. “Shadow, I don’t think we’ll find a way around. There’s a curvature to this wall that suggests it probably surrounds the objective.”

“Understood Obsidian. I’ll mark a section of the wall for a torpedo strike at minimum safe distance and see if we can’t go through from there. Return to our position. We’ll take cover in a nearby cluster of rocks.”

“I know the one. Will be there soon. Obsidian out.”

Obsidian was about a third of the way back when the torpedo struck. The flash of light was visible even through the reduced visibility, yet something seemed different about it. The explosion took on a momentary blue colour, shortly before it was replaced with shades of orange that grew larger and brighter. With it, the sound of multiple detonations quickly grew in volume. Obsidian realised they were getting closer, and were comparable to clusters of firecrackers, though with deep booms, rather than small pops. Eventually, the explosions raced past, and Obsidian could make out each individual object detonating sequentially.

“I assume you saw that, Obsidian?” Shadow’s voice returned.

“Yeah, it looks like every single one of those things were destroyed in a chain reaction. Does it look clear from your end?”

“Hard to say, but it seems that way.”

“Alright, head towards the impact site. I’ll meet you there instead.”

Several minutes of flight later, Obsidian landed beside the freshly formed crater. Heat was radiating from its centre, which contained fragments of glass-like material scattered throughout, with most of it closer to the centre. Looking around, he found no other signs of floating devices. Off in the distance, the rest of his team drew closer, eventually meeting at the crater’s edge with the changeling.

Swift looked into the crater. “We don’t have to worry about sprouting extra hooves from our heads or anything, do we? Are we safe this close to the impact?”

“Amarok’s torpedoes are not nuclear weapons,” Shadow explained. “Their compressed plasma is not radioactive, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Pity,” Shift replied. “I was hoping for some super powers. Power Ponies, anypony?”

Shadow shook her head. “I don’t think that’s how it works, Shift. Come on, let’s keep going.”

The six split into their respective groups once more, as they circumnavigated the crater, before proceeding in a straight line again. As the crater disappeared behind them, Shadow spoke up, “Odd sort of defence, wasn’t it? Destroy one device, and you destroy every other. Doesn’t seem like an effective way to keep anything out.”

“Mmm,” the changeling agreed. “Which is why I don’t think it was designed to keep things out. A deterrent maybe, but I’m thinking with the amount of damage caused, and the noise made, it probably served as an early warning system of some kind.”

“Perhaps. Some ground-based sensors might have worked more effectively, though. That just seemed … excessive.”

“However,” Obsidian pondered, “They did seem to be rather explosive for their size. Air mines, perhaps? Do those things exist?”

“Can’t say I’ve heard of them before, but I don’t see why not. A bit too conspicuous though. Unless that’s the point?”

While Obsidian and Shadow discussed the recent events, off in the distance, Glare was attempting to tune out from the twins’ own conversation.

“Radiance? Nah.” Shift waved a hoof. “Sure, she might have a useful power, but her creations seem ridiculous in each issue. Fili-Second is where it’s at. There’s so much you can do with that sort of speed.”

“Yeah, but would you seriously want to trade your wings for lightning speed?”

“Come on mate, this is basic theory of flight. What are the factors affecting lift? Air density, speed, and wing area. Plus your coefficient of lift, based off your angle of attack and aerofoil camber.”

Swift frowned. “… Yeah? I’m not seeing your point though.”

“Alright, let me make this as simple as possible for you. If you try to flap your hooves, you’re not gonna take off in a hurry, are you? Why is that?”

“Uhh, because they’re not wings?”

“Be more specific. Think about the formula for lift.”

“Well, I guess you can’t control air density, so that wouldn’t be it. Coefficient can be changed with a wing, but hooves are basically symmetrical, so that’s out. Umm … Righty, your wing—or rather, hoof surface area would still be the same, which leaves speed as the only variable to control, but you wouldn’t be able to flap them fast enough to compensate for the—oh, I see what you’re saying.”

“Yeah, took you long enough, ya dingbat! Though now that I think about it”—Shift tapped his chin—“flying like that might need to look more like deep water swimming, but like, really fast. As you said, hooves are kinda symmetrical. No camber to produce lift with, and angle of attack for such a shape would be meaningless. Flapping up and down would pretty much cancel each stroke out.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll give you that one. Okay, so then it’s a toss-up between her, or Saddle Rager.”

“How so?”

“Well, she’s still a pegasus, so in her normal state, she can fly no problem. But when she bulks up, nothing can harm her. And she can cause a heap of damage, can’t she? She’d easily whoop Fili’s cute flank.”

“The hay she can. I doubt either would win over the other. Fili would be too fast to hit, and Rager would be too tough to take down.”

“Do you two realise you’re arguing about a bunch of comics intended for colts?” Glare called out ahead of the two.

The twins reeled, gasping dramatically. Shift recovered first. “We take back what we said to you aboard the Forge. This is why you’re still single.”

Glare stopped, and faced the twins. “Again with my private life. Why are you so obsessed?”

“Just trying to make conversation, relax.”

“That’s an odd way to have a conversation. Do you two ever have any intellectual topics to discuss?”

“We just had a back and forth about aerodynamics,” Shift retorted. “What, is that not intellectual enough for you?”

Glare turned around and continued following the lead group. “Heard it all before. Most pegasi I’ve met won’t stop talking about anything flying related.”

“’Cause flying is awesome, obviously. So, what? You prefer we talk about philosophy? Theory of knowledge and all that abstract stuff? How do you know what you know if you know you don’t know all there is to know? Ugh, thanks, but no thanks. And good luck finding a stallion who’s into that. Or is it mares you’re in to?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but if you were the last two stallions in Equestria, I certainly would be.”

Shift grinned. “Now there’s a thought. That would mean I could pick any mare I’d want! Wonder who I’d pick first …”

Swift replied almost instantly, “Spitfire, hooves down. Not sharing, though. That’d be weird. I know she’s older than me, but damn, she's got wings that won't quit!”

“What, yellow mares are your thing, then?” Glare asked sarcastically.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but probably,” Swift mocked, imitating Glare.

Glare rolled her eyes. “Forget I said anything.”

By the time the rain had become a light sprinkle, it was well into the afternoon. The scouting group managed to mark a few more targets along their way, though the area seemed to contain fewer defences compared to the urban region from the previous day. Another wall of floating explosives was encountered and promptly dispatched with a well-aimed shot from Shadow’s pulsar, sending a ring of fire in either direction.

By this point, the terrain had taken on a completely rocky formation. The flat-faced, polygonal outcrops appeared artificial, though Glare knew otherwise from her experience; basalt structures, joined in relatively convenient steps that allowed the team to progress faster, compared to the loose boulders and mud that hindered them earlier.

Having gone without rest for a third of the day, the six sat around a large, clear puddle that had formed in a depression of the rocky columns. Gathering some loose branches nearby, Shadow stacked them neatly near the puddle’s edge and placed a hoof just above the centre. A small, blue flame manifested. Holding the flame against the branches, they eventually caught fire.

After washing the mud out of themselves, everyone relaxed as they had some water, or a few of their rations. After a suggestion from Obsidian, the group threw their wet GCUs into a pile and Glare managed to dry them using her glyph spell.

While Glare was busy ensuring she didn’t accidentally singe the clothing, Swift, Shift, Shadow and Sparky were carefully removing their burn dressings. Though they still needed time to heal, the downpour had ruined the dressings. Despite this, their fur had started to grow back, even if only by a small amount. As soon as their GCUs had dried, they wasted no time in putting them back on, the clothing providing at least some form of protection against the moderate wind.

While the others continued to eat, Glare proceeded to dry herself, propping her back against the spell’s wall while reading a book. Swift and Shift took naps on each crate, while Obsidian and Sparky kept watch over their surroundings. Every so often, one of the two would head away to gather more material for their flickering campfire.

The group remained for an hour before Shadow decided it was time to proceed. As the light had again started to fade from the sky, the six pressed on a little faster than they had earlier in the day. When night eventually fell, the team was within sight of their objective. The weather had cleared up enough for Obsidian to make out the gaping mouth of the cave in the dark, with a silhouette of what appeared to be a large hill behind it. Deciding the team should be alert and well rested for their approach in better lighting conditions, Shadow rolled out the sleeping bags in a large, rocky ditch, deep enough to conceal the six and protect themselves against the wind.

Glare and Obsidian took first watch. The others paired up in their sleeping bags, while the unicorn and changeling set up a tarp to cover most of the ditch and retain some of their heat. Obsidian rested his head atop the pit’s edge, and Glare returned to her book, opening it to a bookmarked page. Hearing the pages flipping, Obsidian watched as Glare busied herself with large walls of text. “What is it I keep seeing you read?”

“Depends when you’ve been watching me.” Glare looked up with a sly smirk on her face. She poked her tongue out quickly before continuing. “This one is recent. Managed to get a hold of a copy when we were in Canterlot. It’s Princess Twilight Sparkle’s thesis on the theory of magic.” Closing the book, she held it in front of Obsidian. The title read ‘Insights Into Magic & Interactions With Fundamental Forces’. “Please tell me you know what Element of Harmony this is.”

“The one who set in motion the events that lead to our downfall at the Canterlot invasion,” Obsidian answered flatly. “How could I not know?”

“Oh uhh, I was referring to her being the Element of Magic, but”—Glare laughed nervously—“that works too.”

“You do remember we sort of met her on the Aurora, right?”

“My point was that she is the Element of Magic,” Glare returned to the original topic. “So her thesis mostly covers a new system to categorise magic, suggesting the current ones are archaic.”

“How so?”

“Well she claims spells should be classified based on how they manipulate the fundamental forces of the universe. The major problem with the way magic has been studied thus far is in regard to how they’ve been categorised.”

Obsidian frowned, visibly confused. “I’m not sure I follow. Are you talking about categorising different spells?”

“More or less. The problem the Princess mentions is the lack of a unified system of magic. It has been generally accepted that unicorns have photokinesis, pegasi and griffons use gravitonic manipulation, and zebras specialise in elemental and alchemical magic, both of which the Princess suspects to be part of some general atomic manipulation ability. Even earth ponies to some extent, share those abilities. In all these cases, separate systems of magic have been used.”

“Wait, back up a bit. Manipulating gravity would explain how magic works for flight-capable species, and I’ve seen the way Shadow has influenced the elements, but”—Obsidian gave the unicorn a disbelieving look—“photokinesis? Are you implying all unicorn magic is nothing but the manipulation of light?”

“I was a little unsure of it at first, but the more I read and thought about it, the more it made sense. When we pick something up, an aura of light surrounds the object. When we want a shield, we get a luminescent barrier. When we fight, we fire light.”

“What about teleportation?”

“Also light. That being said, teleportation is a little more complicated, as there is some quantum physics involved. Something about entanglement, but quantum physics just goes over my head. Most topics of physics, actually. Interestingly enough, because light is used in teleportation, one recent discovery is that the time taken to teleport from one place to another is based on the speed of light.”

“Right. So, anything there on changelings? What, uhh, medium do we use for our magic?”

Glare shrugged. “Changelings aren’t exactly a well-studied species, but since illusions are your area of expertise, perhaps you share similar methods to unicorns. Given that you also fly, gravitonic manipulation would likely be involved, too. Anyway, so the Princess has been working with Aurora’s research division to test many spells from different species, in an effort to group them based on how they convert our energy into different forms when casting a spell.”

“I think I understand the idea. Energy can’t be created or destroyed, but merely converted, so she’s breaking spells down into their energy components and quantifying them.”

“Exactly. You’re aware of the four fundamental forces of the universe? Gravity, electromagnetism, strong and weak interaction? With training, we manipulate these forces in specific ways, resulting in the spells we cast. That is what the Princess is defining magic to be; a biological process that interacts with fundamental forces and manipulates them to achieve the intended effect.”

“Just to be clear, is Sprinkle testing each spell herself, or does she have assistants from every magical species? I assume the latter, since the former implies different forms of magic can be used between species.”

“Sparkle,” Glare corrected. “I just told you her name. And from what I understand, any horned magical creature can, in theory, make use of any form of magic. Makes me wonder if the Princess will try to master every known spell.”

“I doubt any creature could do that. I mean, most ‘lings train over a decade just to create believable disguises.”

“A whole decade? I mean, I know lots of spells need at least a year or so to master, but the amount of commitment needed for that is astounding. Still, I think the Princess is in the perfect situation to make such an attempt.”

“How so? Celestia and Luna have been around much longer, and neither of them seem to have mastered a wide array of spells.”

“I suppose because neither of them were the Element of Magic.”

“Unless being the Element of Magic grants her the ability to learn spells in a matter of days, how does Spr—Sparkle plan to learn everything with her finite life-span?”

Glare sighed. “I feel like this is the point where I state once again that you need to study history some more, but it’s probably pointless by now. Well, you know of the Hiigaran leader Karan S’Jet?”

“The dead one?”

“I wouldn’t have put it so bluntly, but yes. At the time of her sacrifice, she was over one hundred and forty years old, yet she retained the youth of a Kushan in her mid-twenties. Hiigaran scientists attributed this to her time spent inside one of the hyperspace cores. The same hyperspace cores now used by the Elements of Harmony.”

“The cores grant immortality?”

“Perhaps not immortality, but immunity from ageing.”

“I mean, I figured nothing would save you from direct contact with a battlecruiser’s ion cannon fire, but if you want to argue semantics …”

“Glare, Obsidian, as much as I like listening in on this conversation, could you please keep it down, or save it for another time?” Shadow whispered.

“I almost forgot you were all there,” Glare apologised. “We'll keep it down.”

The pair grew silent after Shadow rolled over in her bag. Glare resumed reading, while Obsidian went back to observing. Flashes of lightning could be seen in the far distance, though no accompanying thunder the changeling could pick up on.

As the minutes dragged on, Obsidian broke the silence. “Hey Glare?” he whispered.

“Hmm?”

“On the topic of magic, have you noticed you’ve been casting your glyphs stronger without my help? When you dried our GCUs, you used a warmer version of the non-augmented glyph without burning anything. Even when that turret attacked us, you fired off multiple glyphs to protect Sparky.”

Glare blinked. Obsidian was right. “Huh. I never gave it much thought. Some sort of residual … or maybe like a by-product of your energy?”

“No, it wouldn’t work like that. You been practising?”

“Nothing more than a few little tests here and there. You think I should let Corona know?”

“Up to you. Though I’d prefer not to get roped into another few hours of repetitive experiments again, if she had even the slightest suspicion I had something to do with it,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. After a deep breath, he stood, and made to climb out from their shelter. “Right, I’ll be back in a bit. Call of nature and all. If I take more than three minutes, assume hostiles.”

18: Radiation (Part 4)

Decently rested, the team packed up and closed the distance to the cave. The morning fog was especially thick, bringing visibility down to a couple of hundred metres. Shadow decided the six would travel together in a loosely spaced formation as they climbed the hill. When they finally arrived at their objective, she opened comms and reported her team’s status to Amarok, along with all relevant mission information. While she did so, Obsidian stared idly into the black abyss of the entrance.

“Data transfer complete. We’ll forward this onto the science team,” Eclipse replied. “Achelois is already preparing their ground teams as we speak. In the meantime, the scientists have asked if it’s possible to perform a quick exploration of the cave as well.”

“Should be possible.” Shadow read the time on her VMUI and looked back towards the cave. “We’ll try to map out what we can, though I assume we may be out of contact if we go too deep.”

“Understood. Report back in three hours. Amarok out.”

Heading towards the opening, Shadow stopped beside Obsidian. “Alright, we have our orders. Time to see what’s so special about this cave.” Looking back at the other four, she raised her voice. “Let’s move!”

The steep descent through the cave proved difficult. As the passage took sharp turns, the team quickly found themselves in pitch-black darkness. Leading the way, Obsidian suggested the others forego the use of flashlights and instead press on with night-vision, after discovering imprints on the floor that looked oddly like scrape marks from something large. The changeling concluded it might have been possible for any of the previously encountered vehicles to fit through, even if only just. Many of the rocky outcrops showed clear signs of breakage due to impact, and those features remained consistent as the group proceeded towards a speck of light around another bend.

Glare could hear Sparky sniffing beside her. Not long after, she too began to smell something unpleasant, scrunching her face in disgust. “Obsidian, that’s disgusting,” she whispered. “You could have at least warned us.”

“That wasn’t me, Glare,” Obsidian whispered back.

“Well we’re downwind to … you.”

“And you know what they say,” Swift spoke up, before he and his brother finished in unison, “Whoever denied it, supplied it!”

Obsidian ignored the twins. “You’re smelling sulphur. Wait, why are we smelling sulphur?”

“Don’t know,” Glare replied. “You sure you—”

“For the last time, I did not fart!” Obsidian snapped. “That’s just—” he stopped, as the group finally reached the end of the passage and rounded the corner. Disabling their night-vision, the six were greeted to the majestic sight of a cavern as large as one of Equestria’s rural towns, bathed in artificial light from large domes suspended below the ceiling.

“This … is certainly not what I had in mind when they told us we were investigating radiation,” Glare commented, awestruck at the natural formation. A kaleidoscope of minerals dotted the chipped, rocky walls of the colossal cavern, with cobalt-blue and moss-green, to purple and sulphur-yellow, giving the interior a rainbow of colours. “Uhh, guys, I don’t think this is a cave. I’m no geologist, but I think this might be a magma chamber.”

“You saying we’re in a volcano?” Shift raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know”—Glare shook her head, confused—“but we might be. Still doesn’t explain the radiation, though.”

“Perhaps that thing over there might.” Obsidian pointed to several large tent-like structures concealed in a particularly rocky area down another steep slope a few hundred metres away. “Think we should check it out, Shadow?”

“We haven’t come all this way for nothing,” Shadow replied. “Alright, we don’t know what’s down there, so I say we split up. Sparky, Glare, you’re with me. Leave the crates here. We’ll head down and assess the situation. Obsidian, take the nine-eight and find a good vantage point there. Swift, Shift, take up defensive positions down there. We’ll need good coverage if we encounter additional defences.”

Taking the LR-98 case from Sparky, Obsidian took flight and nestled between two rocks that glimmered with a faint shade of purple. Opening the case, he assembled the rifle, which rivalled himself in length. Mounting it to face the structure below, he inspected his surroundings and changed into a similarly sized rock for good measure.

Below and to Obsidian’s left, the twins moved down with the other three, splitting off and positioning themselves behind either side of a large boulder. Shadow’s group continued down the loose terrain at a painstakingly slow rate. Every few metres, they would stop behind one of the numerous large rocks, observing the area before proceeding. At one point, the sheer weight of Sparky and his equipment caused him to lose his footing. Though Shadow managed to halt his fall, the ensuing minor rock-slide headed straight for the structure, forcing the three to hide once more behind cover.

Obsidian was the first to see movement. A being emerged from the structure to identify the commotion. Based on the bipedal stance and striking attire, the changeling’s eyes widened in surprise. “Raiders? The buzz are they doing here?” Switching the safety off, he took aim at the Raider. “Shadow, I’ve got a visual on a Raider emerging the structure.” After no reply, he repeated himself twice, before knocking on his helmet. “Swift, Shift, either of you reading me? Great.”

“Shadow, I think I saw something coming this way,” Glare whispered. “You smell anything down there, Sparky?”

Sparky shook his head, picking up a particularly yellow rock. Sniffing it, he pointed to the rock and cast it aside. He tightened his grip on his J8 and readied himself, while Glare and Shadow followed suit with their pulsars.

Higher up, Swift and Shift could see more detail. “Mate you seeing this?”

“Bloody hay, that’s a Raider.”

“He’s headed straight for our guys. Five bits to whoever nabs him first.”

The pair poked out from cover and took aim. Seeing movement out of the corner of its eyes, the Raider quickly raised his weapon and fired several pulsar rounds towards the twins, forcing the pair to retreat back into cover. A resounding “BUCK” echoed in the cavern from the two.

In an instant, Shadow, Sparky, and Glare’s heads emerged above their cover, and the three simultaneously aimed their weapons at the creature. Glare hesitated, unable to fire as the Raider turned his head, making eye contact with her before his expression turned to one of surprise. It was the last thing either saw, as Shadow blasted the being’s head clean off.

“Shadow, if you’re hearing me, I’m seeing more activity down at the structure,” Obsidian continued attempting to communicate. “I count three Raiders emerging, all armed. I’m transmitting blind. Repeat, transmitting blind.”

Obsidian was about to take aim at one of the three below, when he noticed something in his peripheral vision. A couple hundred metres below and to his right, three additional Raiders made their way towards Shadow’s group. Bringing his pulsar to bear, he adjusted the scope’s range, watching them leap down with reckless abandon. Obsidian waited until they headed across the field, pulling the trigger the moment one Raider aligned with another. With a ground-rumbling boom and a strong ozone smell, two of the Raiders vaporised instantly. The ion pulse continued until it hit a boulder on the other end, causing it to explode and turn the third into a pincusion of rock shards.

Discarding the energy canister from underneath the rifle, Obsidian reloaded and shifted his focus back to the original three. The Raiders were pinned down, flanked by Swift and Shift from one side, while Shadow and Glare fired from another. Obsidian watched Glare, as she missed her targets by significant amounts, though it did not matter in the end, as Sparky dropped a plasma bomb round on all three.

Additional Raiders appeared, as if they had come out of the rocks themselves. Two flanked the twins, while another three harassed Shadow’s group. Obsidian took aim at one of the two near the twins’ position, transforming the unaware victim into an atomised mist of tissue and metal. Another torrent of rocky daggers flew in every direction, though the second Raider remained unscathed behind cover. Reloading, Obsidian lined up a shot at the next Raider, hoping it would allow the twins to turn the tide and assist Shadow’s group, causing the remaining Raiders to be hit from three different angles.

The sound of shifting rocks nearby made the changeling freeze, and he found himself beside another Raider searching for the shooter. Remembering his disguise, Obsidian remained motionless as the Raider surveyed the area, weapon raised, finding nothing but a sniper rifle balancing against the rocks. Continuing to wait, Obsidian analysed the armour, finding the weak spots. He remained still, until the Raider was almost touching him.

Obsidian’s patience paid off. At the precise moment the Raider turned to his side, Obsidian dropped his disguise, his wings erupting in flames that blinded his victim. Performing a vertical corkscrew, Obsidian’s right blade cut underneath the torso armour, eliciting a brief shriek from the Raider, before tearing through his neck with the left blade’s trailing edge.

I guess I was wrong. Illusory flames do serve some purpose.

As the Raider collapsed sideways onto the floor, a pulsar round came from somewhere halfway down the cavern, narrowly missing Obsidian. Diving behind cover, he quickly poked his head out from the side of a boulder, finding another Raider making his way slowly up the terrain. Retreating before yet another blast zipped by, he disassembled the rifle with haste and placed it back in its case. Every few seconds, the Raider below shot at his cover, pinning him down. Off in the distance, the exchange of fire continued between Shadow’s group. From his angle, he could see the twins had dispatched their final attacker.

Picking up the largest rock he could carry, Obsidian threw it over the left side, causing it to tumble down the slope. Repeating the process twice, he disguised himself as another rock, hugged the case, and tumbled down the right side of his cover. Bouncing around, he rolled down the slope, all the while suffering cuts as he passed over the more jagged rocks. Coming to a stop at the bottom, he ignored the stings from his bleeding wounds as he pulled out a pack of demolitions. Wheeling around, he sent it flying with a buck.

Above, the Raider realised his target was nowhere to be seen. Turning around, he noticed an object soaring through the air towards him, and his target had somehow appeared below. In his hoof, he held an object. With a visible squeeze of it, the Raider was incinerated.

Silence fell shortly after. Looking towards his team, he found all Raiders taken care of. Picking up the rifle case, Obsidian took flight and headed towards Shadow’s group, already at the structure and putting out several fires caused by Sparky’s plasma rounds. Shortly after finding the area devoid of any further threats, the twins arrived. Obsidian noted the structure appeared to be a makeshift field laboratory that sat adjacent to a pole-like object drilled into the ground. Before he investigated further, he turned to the others. “You all okay?”

Shadow nodded, looking over the changeling and his torn GCU. “We’re fine. You look like you’ve seen better days though.”

Obsidian spat out a glob of dark red blood. “I’ll live. Now what exactly were Raiders doing here?”

“I don’t know, but their presence and this anomaly are certainly no coincidence.”

“Well whatever it is, we just put an end to it.” Obsidian turned and entered, ready with his carbine. Inside were several computers, plus extensive notes in multiple piles on a large workbench. At the centre was a peculiar object; two large, metallic concave dishes attached to each other via four short bars in a square. Several thick cables attached to a unit mounted on the back of the first dish, which split away to numerous containers of unknown purpose nearby. In front of this object, a few metres from the dish’s focal point, sat a wristwatch atop a tall, thin stand.

Glare approached the watch. Observing its operation, she noted it ran at an unusually fast rate, showing a standard hour pass every second, while the second’s hand spun in an imperceptible blur. Frowning, she poked the watch with her pulsar. “Strange. What do you make of this, Shadow?”

The zebra picked up the watch, attempting to analyse it from different angles. Eventually, she shook her head. “No idea. I’m going to guess this is what Achelois is looking for. Let’s carry out a sweep of the area for survivors, and head back to the surface.” Placing the watch back on its stand, the group filed out of the lab.

As the adrenaline wore off for Obsidian, he looked towards all his cuts. “Hey Sparky, I might need a heap of bandages. You mind if I take some of yours?”

As the last of the group departed, a tiny swirl of purple flew out of the watch, fading away a split-second later.

Fanning out around the chamber, the six commenced their search for possible survivors. Obsidian flew through the dark path connecting their position to the surface, ensuring no Raider escaped. The rest of the team combed through the rocks near their objective.

Reaching the surface, Obsidian took advantage of his location to provide Amarok with a quick status update on their situation.

“That is rather odd, indeed,” Eclipse’s garbled voice met the changeling’s ears. “We can assume nothing good would have come from whatever that device is. Still, some good news. Achelois’ crew are already planet-side and en route to your position.”

“We still haven’t received any extraction coordinates. Have they determined a suitable location yet?”

“You won’t need the coordinates. The crew set down near your uhh, landing site, and deployed vehicles to follow the same route you took. Once they arrive, they’ll drop off their scientists and security detail, and take you back to their landing site where you’ll return immediately to Amarok.”

“How many hours are we looking at waiting then?”

“Not long. Probably about an hour and fifteen minutes to reach your destination. You should be back aboard Amarok in four hours.”

“Alright, I’ll pass the message on. Obsidian out.”

Better acquainted with the tunnel, Obsidian glided through the dark passage, as he returned to his team. Approaching the light at the end, he made a sharp turn and entered the cavern once more, seeking out his squad-mates. He quickly found them all at the far end and proceeded in that direction. Drawing nearer, something seemed off. Squinting, he saw the group huddled around a bright figure, and he could make out weeping when he realised—

“Glare!”

Obsidian flew as fast as he could, landing nearby and galloping the last few metres. “What happened? Is she hurt?” He found Glare lying on her side, her pulsar glowing at the barrel’s tip. Nearby, the body of a Raider with a large portion of its torso missing was lying face-down on the ground, still smoking. A visual inspection of Glare suggested she hadn’t sustained any injury.

Shadow placed a hoof against the unicorn. “Glare, please—”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” she smacked the hoof away. Growing hysterical, Glare threw her rifle as far as she could. The smell of burning flesh made the unicorn retch, causing the pegasus twins to take a couple of steps back.

Sighing, Shadow rose, and moved towards Obsidian, “She’s uninjured. We found a survivor lurking about. I feared the worst when I heard Glare screaming after a pulsar discharge, but she fired first. She’s not taking it too well, it seems.”

“Anything I can do to help? Got an update from Amarok, and we’ll be picked up from here in about an hour. Should be back on board in a few hours from now.”

“Good to hear. In that case, take the others with you back to the surface. I’ll stay with Glare for now.”

Obsidian looked around the cavern. “You’re certain the area is secured?”

“We are now. There’s only one way in or out from here. We’ll be fine.” Looking over the battered changeling, Shadow added, “Did you need one of us to fix that dislocation for you?”

Twisting his neck, Obsidian could barely see an odd protrusion near one side of his withers. “Back-plate. I’ll deal with it on our ride back. See you topside.”

Glare disappeared from the group as soon as the six emerged in the infiltration tunnel aboard Amarok. Eclipse awaited their arrival, and was surprised when the unicorn pushed past him. Watching her enter an elevator, the officer turned to the other five descending the ramp. “Did … something just happen?”

“I will explain everything in the debrief,” Shadow replied. “Obsidian, can you please look after Glare, and make sure she’s alright?”

“Does it have to be me? I’m not good with this sort of stuff.”

“Do I have to make it an order?”

“Fine,” Obsidian grumbled, taking off after the unicorn. “You’ve been warned though.”

Taking the same elevator, Obsidian was fairly certain where Glare would head, and selected the eighth deck. Exiting, he started to notice the occasional splattering of droplets on the floor, trailing towards his quarters. With a knowing sigh, he swiped his hoof against the pressure door’s reader and entered, noting the trail that continued within.

Obsidian could hear sobbing as he closed his quarters’ door. Approaching the source, he found Glare’s shutter down. Looking around briefly, he saw no other crew occupying the other beds. Returning his focus to the one beside his own, he knocked lightly against the shutter. “Glare? It’s me.”

The sobbing stopped, replaced by an occasional sniffle or hiccup. With no further response, Obsidian persisted. “Come on, Glare. You know I’m not going anywhere until you open up.”

More silence followed, until a single click was heard. Giving the shutter a test nudge, Obsidian opened it all the way. In the darkness, Glare lied curled into a ball, with her back towards the changeling. Obsidian could see Glare was hugging something, which he quickly deduced was her own pillow. “So, you uhh … feel like talking?” he started, unsure of what to say.

“Why, you’re g—going to be my psychologist now?”

“I mean, it’s either me, or an actual psychologist,” Obsidian replied, mentally berating himself for his sarcasm. “Sorry. Maybe that might be a better option actually.”

“N—no, it’s fine. I just don’t see the point to talking about what happened. What I did was … Oh, Celestia, dad was right,” Glare wailed, tightening the grip on her pillow. “I’m going to have to live with this for the rest of my life!”

“Glare, you can’t beat yourself up over it. You did what you had to do.” Obsidian placed his hoof on Glare’s side hesitantly. Why couldn’t Shadow do this? “It’s what any of us would have done. What that Raider would have done if he had the chance.”

“I saw his face, Obsidian. The look in his eyes as I pulled the trigger. The realisation it was his final moment. I’m trying to forget that image, but I can’t—I—I can’t—I can’t—” Glare shook her head, tremors taking over her entire body.

In a flash, Obsidian hopped up into the bed, enveloping Glare in his hooves and wings similarly to Glare with her pillow. “Hey, hey, deep breaths, okay? Deep breaths. Focus on something else.”

“I just keep seeing—”

“Don’t worry about what you’re seeing. Close your eyes.” Obsidian placed a hoof over her eyes, feeling Glare’s face twitch slightly as she did so. “Use your other senses. Feel yourself breathing,” he continued, placing a little more pressure on the wing against her barrel as his hoof moved away. “Deep, steady breaths. Now, listen to the sound of the ship and pick apart the different noises. What do you hear?”

“I hear—I hear the engines.”

“Good. What else?”

“Hoof—hoofsteps, I think.”

“Keep going,” Obsidian encouraged.

“There’s … water. Running through the pipes.”

“You’re doing great, Glare. Just focus on those sounds and breathe, alright? Take all the time you need.”

Neither said anything for what felt like hours. Obsidian simply remained beside Glare, who seemed slightly more at peace than she did earlier, though she continued to sniff and wipe her eyes. At some point—neither was sure when—Glare spoke up, “The most sickening part of it all was that acrid smell. Copper, or—or iron, mixed with ozone. I could almost taste it.”

Deciding not to say anything, Obsidian remained still.

The unicorn let out a shaky sigh. “How do you do it?”

Obsidian blinked, unprepared for a question. “Do what?”

“You know what. It seems like it comes naturally for you.”

“Have you learned nothing about changelings since we met? We don’t kill. Not outside self-defence, anyway. After all, killing a potential food source would be a monumentally idiotic thing to do. Take the Canterlot invasion as an example. As insufferable as ponies—as most ponies are, I’d never want to take one’s life. Yes, I’ve seriously injured many for the purpose of incapacitation, but I’ve always feared I’d go too far. One overextended move, or a slash too deep, and it could be the difference between taking your targets out of the fight, or taking them out for good.”

“So how is it you seem to cope so well with purposely taking a life, if you know it’s not right? All that damn psychological conditioning in basic just went over my head. All those times they tried to convince me it wasn’t a life I’d be taking, but rather I’d be ‘neutralising a target’ or ‘eliminating the threat’, all in the name of protecting our families, friends, and homes. Is this how we’ve justified our actions? Is this how we’ve convinced ourselves this is right?”

“You remember the first thing I ever said to you? Aboard the luxury liner? What’s right and what’s necessary—”

“—Are two different things,” Glare finished. “I remember. But then—but how do you deal with it? You’ve never seemed particularly bothered. You always seem to have a brave face on.”

“Believe me, there is nothing more frightening than having to be brave. Which is why you’re probably one of the bravest ponies I’ve ever met.”

Glare scoffed. “You mustn’t have met many ponies, because I find that highly unlikely.”

“Oh? You have a role that requires you to go against one of your core beliefs. Yet you remained, despite the risk of being disowned, just so you could have a chance at helping your sister. A chance,” Obsidian emphasised. “I’d be terrified if I was in such a situation. That’s why I can’t think of many others who I’d consider braver than you, including myself.”

“See, now I know you’re just trying to make me feel better. Somehow I don’t see myself being among the first to—to charge into battle, or volunteering for a dangerous mission.”

“I don’t see you doing that either, but you’re mistaking bravery for bravado. Big difference. Swift and Shift have bravado. You have bravery. You risk so much more, with little regard for yourself. Do you know why I’m here in the first place? My Queen wanted to send her top ’ling to show we’re better than what we’re made out to be, that’s why. That we’re not the monsters Equestria thinks we are. Hmm, guess I still need to work on that second part, huh?”

“Just a little.” Glare felt the hint of a small smile creep its way onto her face. After a moment of silence, she spoke up again. “Hey, thanks. I know I’m probably going to have to deal with—with this for a long time, but I appreciate you trying to help me come to terms with it.” Hesitating for a moment, she rolled over and gave Obsidian a quick peck on the cheek.

Caught off guard, Obsidian’s eyes widened. Their luminescence betrayed his otherwise unreadable face. Realising it had become a little too quiet, he quickly replied, “Yeah, no problem. Just concerned for your well-being. Will you be alright?”

“I think so. In time, anyway.”

“Good. Well uhh, if you need me, I'll be in my bunk taking a nap.”

Rolling over, Obsidian stopped when the shutter lit up with Glare’s aura and closed. A click sounded soon after. “Glare? What—”

“Please stay.”

“Uhh …”

“I don’t—I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Yet you locked yourself in here the moment we arrived,” Obsidian pointed out, his back still towards Glare.

“I may have had a change of heart.”

Obsidian tried as much as he could to weigh his decisions quickly. After what felt like a lengthy internal struggle, he sighed, rolling again onto his back. “Alright. I’ll stay.”

“Thank you.” Glare re-positioned herself, nuzzling up against the changeling in the crook of his neck.

Obsidian idly poked the contents of his plate. Despite claiming a small portion of baked potatoes from the galley, he did not feel particularly hungry. Instead, he had taken to simply inspecting the starchy meal, turning one piece over in his fork. Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed a tray placed beside him. Looking up at the newcomer, he found Shadow taking a seat.

“Good evening, Obsidian. I take it you managed to speak with Glare, then?”

The changeling kept his eyes on his meal, and there was a noticeable pause before he answered. “I did.”

“And?”

Another pause. “I stand by what I said before. You really should have been the one to talk to her.”

“Oh dear, I hope you didn’t do anything to make her feel worse.”

Obsidian remained silent.

“Obsidian, you’re acting odd. Did something happen?”

“I hope not,” Obsidian mumbled. Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he rose, returning his tray. “Excuse me. We’ll talk later.”

Shadow sighed. “I hate it when he’s so vague.”

Exiting the galley and stepping into the closest elevator, Obsidian ran a hoof down the list of decks as the doors slid closed. Unable to decide on a destination, he took a step back, falling on his haunches and leaning his back on the wall behind him.

Obsidian, you buzzing moron, he mentally berated himself, hitting the back of his head on the wall twice.

The changeling remained in the elevator for several minutes. Eventually, the doors opened again, and Sparky stepped in, who promptly selected the sixth deck. Neither said anything, or acknowledged the others’ presence as they made the brief descent.

Much to Obsidian’s surprise, Sparky broke the silence. “I’ve had time to think.”

Obsidian blinked. “Pardon?”

“About what you said. You were right. I’ve kept silent for so long out of fear. Fear that history would repeat itself for me. Do you have a moment?”

“I—sure.”

The changeling followed Sparky to his quarters. Swiping his VMUI against the reader, Sparky motioned the changeling inside with an open paw. Obsidian looked around at the officer’s quarters, concluding the compartment housed two officers. Identical to those in the crew quarters, a table stood at the centre of the room. Spread across each wall was a bed, desk, couch, and two wardrobes for each officer.

After the pressure doors sealed, the pair took seats at opposite ends of the table. Obsidian was the first to open his mouth. “So, is … everything alright?”

“More or less. I think I just need to get this off my chest,” Sparky answered, a sombre tone to his voice. “I’m just going to be brief and direct about this.”

“Okay.”

“I was once part of a gang. One of those grunts making the rounds and maintaining territory. I don’t know if you’re aware, but diamond dogs are possessive of territory. One day I ran my mouth in a confrontation with some rivals. Threatening, baiting, insulting. A few days later, my closest friend was torn to pieces during retaliation in turf war. They butchered him because of me. I made a decision then that I would … you know.”

“I see. That explains the fear, then. Was any of that a factor in you joining the Navy?”

“It was. I felt responsible for my actions and figured I’d avenge my friend by learning skills and stealing equipment from the Navy. I made plans for discretely moving weapons and armour off-site, and form a group to find a permanent solution to the rivalry, but after training, my mentality started to change.”

“How so?”

“Well, the ideals of the Navy helped, but I also remember this pony protesting regularly outside the training camp. One of those anti-war, tree hugging types. In fact, that was her name.”

“Anti-war?”

“Tree Hugger. Security never paid her attention, but she said something during one of her protests that stuck with me. ‘Hate destroys the soul of anyone who tries to teach it’. It made me rethink my intentions and motivations. I eventually befriended her. Somehow, she read me like a book, and I didn’t even have to say a word. Helped me see how destructive my actions could be.”

“Couldn’t have been that helpful if you’re still here, though.”

“We still had different ideologies, but before I met her, I was on the war path, willing to drag others down with me, so I could exact my revenge. Now, I’d like to think my current reasons for serving are a little more noble. Not that my guilt ever really left. Still, even after everything, I suppose I just got used to staying quiet.”

“You’ve certainly hit your yearly quota of words spoken, that’s for sure.”

Sparky sighed. “See, comments like that don’t exactly help. I wouldn’t mind speaking a little more freely, but I hate when someone draws attention to it.”

“Sorry. I didn’t think of it that way.”

“No one does. Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say.” Rising, the diamond dog added, “I’d appreciate if you kept this in confidence.”

Getting to his hooves, Obsidian nodded. “Of course. Not like the social recluse of Amarok would find a need to gossip.”

Sparky hummed. “Partly why I decided to say anything to you at all. Anyway, good night. And … Thanks.”

Heading for the exit, Obsidian paused, as other thoughts lingered. Turning around, he headed back to the table. “Hey Sparky, hold on. I … might need to dump some baggage on you as well, if that’s alright.”

Giving the changeling a curious look, Sparky also returned to his seat. “It’s only fair, I guess.”

“Right. Well, you know how all that stuff happened with Glare? How Shadow sent me after her when we returned? Well after I checked up on her, she uhh, locked me in with her.”

Sparky appeared visibly confused. “What?”

“As in … you know. Our quarters,” the changeling hesitated, suddenly fascinated by the wood grain pattern of the table. “I don’t exactly know how to explain this.”

“I’m still not sure what your issue—”

Obsidian barked, “We shared a bed, okay? Is that descriptive enough? Shadow wanted me to … I don’t—I don’t know, comfort her, or something, and things got out of hoof.”

“You mean you two had—”

“NO!” Obsidian shouted, a mortified look on his face. He quickly calmed down. “No, we did not. She just asked me to stay in bed with her and I … agreed.”

“That’s it? If nothing happened, what’s the problem?”

“What’s the prob—are you buzzing serious?” Obsidian was on the verge of shouting again. “Fraternisation aside, she’s a pony. A pony!”

“And? I wouldn’t have expected you of all crew to respect the Navy’s rules anyway. Either way, assuming it was an isolated incident, discuss it with her and move on. You're friends, aren't you?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why?”

“Oh, buzz me sideways,” Obsidian groaned. “Because I sensed from her the one thing I’m drawn to. And the one thing I’d fear to return.”

Sparky’s beady eyes became impossibly wide. After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat. “Well, you’re screwed.”

Obsidian’s face slammed into the table. “You have no idea,” he mumbled. “I think, maybe if there was another ‘ling aboard, I could have my—my mental state manipulated until things return to normal, but I can’t let anyling know about this. Think you could help me somehow?”

“I’m not sure what you want me to do. Besides, I think this is something you need to deal with on your own.”

“I was afraid of that.”

19: Lab Report

CREW AUDIO LOG
CORONA, FLT. INTL./RD
AURORA, MOTHERSHIP
9632.30805462101 GSY

Aurora research division report two-one-one-eight, mark one.

With the unknown device successfully transferred from Achelois, my team has completed their initial analysis and submitted their findings. At present, we have been unable to ascertain the purpose or origins of this device, and while some suggest the device is Raider technology, it is merely speculation at this stage. Samples obtained from the surface of the device indicate it is newly constructed, ruling out Progenitor origins. Therefore, whatever its purpose may be, my hypothesis is that considering the device was found in the presence of Raiders, it is clearly relevant to their needs.

Our metallurgy sub-division reports high concentrations of heavy metals across the device’s entire exterior. Primarily stable elements, though our sensors picked up on negative beta decay at one end, which we believe to be some sort of emitter dome, just behind the first dish. Though emissions were low, all necessary precautions against potential high radiation exposure were taken. Despite the presence of decay, it did not match the original radiation detected from the planet earlier on. However, considering no additional readings have been detected since the retrieval of the device, we still believe it to be the source. We still haven’t properly operated the device though.

Several other members of my team have been pouring through the research notes found with the device. A significant amount of data was purged, no doubt around the time the Raiders became aware of the Infiltrators’ presence. Understanding the remaining content while simultaneously translating the Turanic language has taken considerable time, but so far we have learned enough from schematics to confidently power the device without fear of harming the components, our operators, or Aurora. Upon activating the power supply, the device emitted a constant swishing sound, and the dome glowed with a faint purple colour. Despite all sensors showing safe levels of radiation, and surface readings indicating temperatures weren’t at any extremes, we decided to cut the power approximately half a minute later.

Among the intact files, my team came across data containing partial schematics of an ancient ship discovered by the Hiigarans during their exile era, designated the Ghost Ship. The vessel too, had an unknown purpose, with the ability to override ship controls and bring it under the influence of the command ship. Why these schematics were found in the logs is a mystery. I had my team double-check with the Hiigarans to confirm the device we’ve obtained was not removed from the ghost ship. However, I still feel there is a missing piece of this puzzle that could only be found from that vessel.

The Hiigarans found this vessel in an area of the galaxy just outside the Great Nebula. With the fall of the Kadeshi, and the surrounding areas now Turanic territory, there will be some obvious dangers in that region. Amarok will head to the vessel, with a small fleet remaining on call in a nearby solar system. With the recent completion of our second stealth destroyer, Basilisk, I may send the vessel to the second Ghost Ship discovered during the Harmony campaign to obtain additional data, if operational requirements permit. Would be a fitting first mission for their crew. I knew a few of their Infiltrators, so I’m confident in their abilities to complete any assigned task.

I’m hoping the expeditions will provide some insight as to why Raiders were in possession of these schematics. In the meantime, more testing will be planned, to determine—uhh, yes? Come in.

LOG PAUSED

LOG RESUMED

I have just received an update from my team. Among the items retrieved from the planet, a small watch was one of them. It had been found specifically in front of the unknown device upon retrieval. After a brief observation of its unusual operation, my team set it aside, so our full attention could be directed at the device instead.

A member of my team recently observed an unusual phenomenon during a clean-up of the lab in which the watch had been placed in. As she was organising some equipment, she noted a purple cloud of energy that was briefly emitted from the watch. This energy dissipated far too quickly to observe properly, until some cameras were set up to better identify this anomaly.

Upon reviewing the video, a comparison was made to one of the first missions undertaken by Amarok. During the mission to destroy an out-of-control vessel, an Infiltrator came across the purple anomaly on the ship’s bridge. The similarities are uncanny, and raise several interesting questions. What does an excessively fast watch have to do with an out-of-control vessel? If Turanic Raiders were found at the site of the unknown device, could they have been responsible for that vessel’s behaviour? How is the ghost ship relevant to all of this? I have a couple of ideas, though both are premature. More evidence is required.

Due to the similarities, I have taken a few precautions with the research division. In the event this watch may somehow exert some manner of influence over any systems, I have ordered a full system disconnection from Aurora, as per the standard operating procedures of a category three containment. The lab will remain attached to Aurora, and crew will be free to enter and leave, but until this device is verified safe, or removed from Aurora, we’ll be running only on self-contained systems. Should Aurora's bridge be compromised, crew will be standing by to deploy demolitions across the bridge in the same manner as the Infiltrators did on that vessel, with other crew reverting to auxiliary station controls.

Analysis of the device continues. I will forward this data and my concerns to the other members of Fleet Intelligence.

LOG TERMINATED

CREW AUDIO LOG
CORONA, FLT. INTL./RD
AURORA, MOTHERSHIP
9632.31078914604 GSY

Aurora research division report two-one-two-zero mark one.

During the events that took place on the planet designated Enigma Tango, as referenced in lab report two-one-one-eight, one of the Infiltrators discovered a device that has been identified as a voice recorder.

Neither the Infiltrators, nor my team were familiar with the language used in the recording. After comparing audio samples from several other common galactic languages, the most similar seemed to be that used by the Taiidan. Even then, the language sounded rather different. A quick communication with some members of the Taiidan Republic yielded interesting results.

The language spoken on the voice recorder was in an old Taiidan dialect no longer used; an interesting development implying Enigma Tango was once a Taiidan-claimed world. Now that I think about it, this can be implied by the automated Taiidan proximity sensors crawling through the larger debris fields of the Karos Graveyard. Still, the Republicans insisted they had no knowledge of this world. What they told us next took a dark turn, as they translated the audio.

“I don’t have much time. Malfunction in the northern chemical plants. Reactants ignited. None will escape the forbidden weapons.”

There is only one known weapon referred to as ‘forbidden’: ADWs. Atmospheric deprivation weapons. Banned for their sheer cruelty millennia ago, it almost exterminated the Hiigarans on two occasions. Running the numbers in a typical habitable planet model, the results paint a horrifying picture of what they’re capable of.

Just one ADW can raise average atmospheric temperature by fifteen degrees. Oxygen at sea level plummets, giving a density altitude of six thousand metres a quarter arc away from the impact area. Survivors near the initial blast wave are burned alive. Outside the blast radius, victims suffocate and slow-roast over a longer period, if immediate protective equipment is unavailable. If they’re lucky, additional ADWs will end their suffering sooner.

My team and I now suspect Enigma Tango was once a secret Taiidan military planet used in part, or wholly for the production of ADWs. The recording supports this theory, as do reports from my team on Enigma, who have stated the structures they’ve passed by were several millennia old. This suggests the planet was populated around the pre-exile era of the Hiigarans. It would also explain the autonomous defences.

Given the seriousness of the situation, the Galactic Council has been informed. An investigation will be carried out, and if our suspicions are correct, a joint task force will be assembled, with fleets from multiple factions to witness and perform a full surface bombardment from orbit. The First Solar Fleet will then remain until all other fleets have jumped away, allowing Aurora to use the Elements of Harmony for good measure. Perhaps an excessive treatment of the planet, but ADWs cannot be allowed to exist.

This still leaves one disturbing thought. The Turanic Raiders were on that planet. While we still haven’t made much progress on the unknown device secured by the Infiltrators, we must now consider the possibility that the Raiders may have obtained ADWs, or the means to manufacture them.

I fear for the future.

LOG TERMINATED

20: Ghost Ship

Obsidian was the last to enter the briefing room. The rest of the Infiltrators, already seated, glanced briefly in his direction. Without a word, he made his way to an empty seat past Sparky, Shadow, and the twins, each having fully regrown their fur and feathers. Using his VMUI as an excuse to look at something else, he avoided eye contact and sat strategically at one end of the table set, facing Eclipse, who had been standing in his usual place between the tables.

Eclipse cleared his throat. “Good, we can start a little early then. Today I’ve got a retrieval mission for you, as a follow up regarding the device you found on Enigma.”

Shadow’s eyes shifted between Glare and Obsidian, both of whom glanced at each other. Obsidian quickly looked away, back to the officer who remained oblivious. Glare looked down at the folder between her hooves.

The officer continued. “In an isolated part of the galaxy, an unusual ship was found long ago. Unknown origins. Unknown purpose. No signs of life aboard, past or present, and the only thing known about it was its control field. Essentially, it could take control of anything larger than a ‘vette if it got too close. It was called the Ghost Ship.”

“Ghost Ship?” Swift gave the officer an incredulous look.

“It’s metaphorical, obviously,” Eclipse clarified. “The Hiigarans gave it that name during their investigations.”

“So if they’ve already taken a look at this ship, why are we doing the same thing? Can’t we just … I dunno”—Swift shrugged—“get the data from the Hiigarans?”

“This was during their exile era. They were a little preoccupied with reclaiming their homeworld and thus lacked the time to collect anything other than some basic information by tapping into certain systems from the exterior of the ship. You six will be sent out to find and extract the ship’s data banks.”

Shift joined in. “How does this relate to our previous mission?”

“Some data recovered from the computers around the Enigma device made references to this ship. We need to know why.”

Folding his hooves, the pegasus leaned back in his seat. “This sounds too simple. What’s the catch?”

“Well, the operation will be on two fronts. A new stealth destroyer named Basilisk will be sent to another Ghost Ship found during the Harmony campaign. We will be sent to the one discovered by the Hiigarans. The catch is, this region of space is now considered Raider territory, which is why Second Fleet will be standing by in a nearby system for this one. Our latest intel shows considerable activity around the Ghost Ship. We slip in, navigate through the enemy fleet, and insert you into the target vessel. Extract the data banks and get out.”

“Any idea what kind of resistance we should expect aboard the Ghost Ship?” Shadow asked.

“My guess is that there would be a moderate number of non-combatants with a light security detail, but a guess is all that is. Whatever the case, stick to a standard seeding style mission. Avoid contact. Eliminate hostiles only when necessary.”

A tone sounded from a nearby seat. Eclipse glanced briefly at it before moving towards the screen. Tapping on the comms interface, he replied, “XO, briefing room.”

“Commander, the Captain wanted to inform you that Second Fleet will hold position here," Crux announced. "We’ll be making our final jump to the target in twenty minutes.”

“Thank you, Specialist.”

Exiting hyperspace once more, the cloaked destroyer proceeded towards the distant target. Surrounded by soft cyan and golden lighting, the environment was dotted with small dark objects, each a distant capital ship.

In the command centre, Crux was eyeing all detected contacts carefully. At seemingly random locations were small, lone ships, smaller than fighters, zooming around the wider area. After verifying their signatures, he spoke up. “Captain, there appear to be several proximity sensors patrolling the area. They look like the older style Taiidan sensors, so I don’t think we’ll have any trouble with our cloaking device. Just to be safe, we may want to maintain half a klick separation.”

“Noted, Specialist. Mark each sensor and pass the information on to Lieutenant Azimuth.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’re certain the Ghost Ship’s control field is offline? No signs of it possibly being reactivated by the Raiders?” Quasar added, while scrutinising every visual detail of the target vessel.

“I’m certain it’s down. Nothing suggests otherwise.”

Responding only with an unconvinced hum, Quasar pulled up an image of the Ghost Ship taken by the Hiigarans when they had first discovered the vessel, and compared it to what Amarok’s external cameras showed. If the damage was anything to go by, the vessel showed no signs of repair work. Dismissing the image, he ordered the other stations to proceed as normal.

Deviating slightly from their route, Amarok made several minor heading adjustments. Closing in on the Ghost Ship, it passed by several larger ships holding their positions. Though the majority were the well-known Vindicator-type cruisers, several larger vessels were completely unfamiliar to Crux.

“Captain, do you recognise these ships?” Crux sent zoomed-in images of the relevant vessels to the Captain’s station. Long, thin and rectangular, in much the same way as a Hiigaran battlecruiser, the red and black ships had a long gap running longitudinally through the centre of the chassis. Within the gap were a pair of armoured rails, tapering slightly at the forward end. At the outboard sides of the vessel were a pair of trapezoid stubs, and point defence weaponry at each corner of the ship.

Frowning, Quasar looked over the images for a while, before shaking his head. “Can’t say that I do. Anypony else?” he called out, sending the images to other stations. “Huh. I want to say they look familiar, but I can’t think of any other ship that looks remotely similar.”

“Great. Just what we need,” Sabre commented with unbridled sarcasm. “Our galaxy infested with Raider battlecruisers. At least the colour scheme isn’t Raider, so it might just be captured ships. Though, from which faction? Unless they gutted a Hiigaran battlecruiser and repainted it.”

As Amarok slowed to a crawl at the final few hundred metres from the Ghost Ship’s hull, it oriented accordingly. A thorough proximity scan suggested their insertion point was clear, and Amarok’s pilots proceeded with their descent to a mere metre above the ship’s hull. As the vessel came to a halt, the closest helmsmare nodded to Quasar.

“Specialist, inform Commander Eclipse that the Infiltrators are cleared to proceed.”

“You know what this feels like?” Swift spoke up, his voice echoing through the Ghost Ship’s cavernous corridors.

“Weightlessness?” Shift stated the obvious as he and the others floated down the seemingly endless hall. Narrow beams of infrared light from each Infiltrator swept across the otherwise pitch-black interior, identifying nothing but metal plating, and the occasional alcove in the walls through their night-vision.

“What? No. Well, yes, but that’s not what I meant,” Swift continued. “It sorta feels like we’ve all been shrunk down to some tiny size. You think this is actually some giant’s equivalent of a frigate? Or maybe a corvette?”

“Keep your voice down, Swift,” Shadow whispered ahead of the group, aiming a narrow beam of light from her pulsar at different locations while she searched for possible threats.

“Or mute it,” Obsidian muttered at the rear. “Permanently.”

“Why?” Swift whispered. “Eclipse said there weren’t any life signs detected. Why else would it be pitch-black here?” he continued, adjusting his night-vision.

“There weren’t any life signs detected around our insertion point,” Shadow corrected. “But if you want other reasons … Power or lighting failure. Obsidian would suggest it might be intentional to spring a trap by any Raiders aboard or somehow watching us from elsewhere. Or perhaps the race that built this ship never had any eyes and therefore never needed light to begin with. Regardless, are you sure you want to risk your life on an assumption?”

“Or ours,” Glare added. Staying close by Obsidian’s side, she added, “And we don’t know if there are machines like those on Enigma either, right Obsidian?”

The changeling did not reply, and continued to face forward. “No one else finds it odd that there’s atmosphere here? On a ship meant to be ancient?”

“Alright, fine, you guys win,” Swift conceded. “Why don’t I ever get to win a debate?”

“Because you’re an absolute cretin,” Obsidian stated without hesitation.

“It’s pronounced ‘crouton’,” Swift retorted. “How’s that an insult, anyway?”

“Exhibit A; the bread head.”

The group continued floating down the long hall. While Shadow made minute adjustments to the surrounding air to overcome her drag, Swift, Shift, and Obsidian had to propel themselves and the other flightless members whenever they started lagging behind the zebra. They repeated this process until they came to an intersection. Ahead, the hall seemed to continue indefinitely. To their left, another hall continued elsewhere. On the right was an empty cylindrical space spanning multiple decks. Many horizontal structures lined the furthest part of the compartment, which had an uncanny likeness to an oversized ladder.

Engaging his mag boots at the edge, Shift peered over while nudging Swift. “So uhh, what was that you were saying about giants?”

Looking up and down the vertical column, Swift sized up the distance. “Ladder rungs look like they’re spaced about two metres apart. So if there were some giants lurking about here, they’d probably be … what? Ten to fifteen metres tall? Ahh, I’ve heard stories where the Elements of Harmony fought larger things. Just think of a ship full of ursa majors or something.”

“I’d rather not!” Glare’s voice cracked.

“For all we know, it could just be a maintenance shaft, and those structures are pipes,” Shadow suggested. “Coolants, fire suppression, compressed air, bundles of cables or hydraulic lines. Let’s cut back on the speculation for now.”

Pressing on, the group descended gradually through the column, falling at a leisurely pace. Several minutes passed before they found themselves approaching the deck indicated in their CNSes. Stabilising the others, the flight-capable members pushed the squad forwards toward their objective.

“Captain, I’ve been seeing some unusual activity in the past few minutes from the surrounding Raiders,” Crux stated, his eyes fixated on the sensor managers on several of his screens.

“Care to elaborate, Specialist?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure anything was happening when it started, considering they’ve been moving so slowly, but it seems they are all assuming a sphere formation around the Ghost Ship. Around us. You don’t think they know we’re here, do you?”

The Captain shook his head. “We’re cloaked. That shouldn’t be possible. Not with this type of device.”

“Famous last words,” Arc Sabre remarked.

“Point taken, Lieutenant,” Quasar conceded. He turned back to Crux. “Specialist, give me a breakdown of all ships based on their type.”

“Sorted by mass, the following ships show up on sensors: Six of the unknown battlecruisers, a Rancor, two-one Vindicators, four-nine Daggers, and one-eight proximity sensors. No strike-craft detected. Given there is a carrier in the area, there may be two-zero squadrons of fighters or corvettes aboard though.”

Quasar remained silent. Analysing the contacts via the sensor manager, each depicted by a two-dimensional shape identifying its class, he came to a decision. “Lieutenant Sabre.”

“Sir.”

“We have sixty torpedoes. What do you think we should target if we had to make a quick getaway?”

Sabre gave the Captain a look. “Are you talking about abandoning the Infiltrators in the process?”

“If I’m given no other option, yes.”

Humming, Sabre took a moment to comb through the sensor manager. “I’d send the first six torpedoes to the unknown battlecruisers’ sensors, and fire both rear tubes at the Rancor’s sensors. If we’ve been detected, they’d be my first guess as to why. Assuming a Balcora heading away from most of the battlecruisers, I’d target Dagger clusters next. As for the Vindicators, I’d ignore them completely. We can outrun them easily and circle back around to take them out if they’ve got hyperspace inhibitors active.”

The Captain agreed. “Alright, make the necessary preparations as a precaution. We’re not leaving our crew behind if I can help it, but if I have to trade six lives to safeguard this vessel and all aboard her, I will.”

“We’ve still got Sixth Fleet’s support,” Sabre reminded Quasar.

“Well aware of that. If we have to retreat, we’d regroup and coordinate a rescue mission as soon as possible to prevent reinforcements from interfering. Sixth cannot go up against this many ships though. Shielding officers always find ion cannons difficult to deal with. Given the amount frigs out there, I doubt Sixth would last long against them.”

“So they’d be bait, or a distraction while we attempt to return to the Ghost Ship?”

“I’m hoping it won’t come down to that, but yes.”

“What is it, Sparks?” Shift looked up at the diamond dog, after a paw blocked him from advancing around the corner.

Sparky took a couple of whiffs, and pointed at their final destination. Against a glowing wall were multiple stations of testing equipment, with a pair of bunks crudely secured to the floor. All four beds were occupied, strapped in with harnesses.

Assessing the situation, Shadow found no one else nearby. “Obsidian, you’re with me. Take the first two, while I take the others. The rest of you, hold until we’ve dealt with them.”

Obsidian waited until the zebra pushed off from the wall, before propelling himself alongside her. The two floated silently towards the sleeping Raiders. As they drew nearer, Shadow pulled out a combat knife, while Obsidian reoriented himself and readied his wing blades.

Despite turning away and shutting her eyes, Glare shuddered at the sound over the open comms, of blades running through their victims. Looking back at Obsidian and Shadow, the latter beckoned the rest over.

Upon arrival, the intricate details of the wall could be made out. Etched on to every part of the wall were hundreds of thousands of luminescent, millimetre-wide tracks. Protruding from seemingly random locations were flat, or blocky components, where many of the tracks converged. Situated centrally was another component, flat and hexagonal, surrounded by the largest number of converging tracks.

Shift stared up at the component, barely larger than his own hoof. “So, is that it? That tiny thing is the brain of this thing?”

“Isn’t that what radiologists say about his MRI results?” Obsidian whispered to Shadow, who suppressed a snort.

Swift looked to the others. “Now what? We just gonna yank this thing off and that’s it?”

“No idea. Maybe.” Shadow approached the component. She could make out small release mechanisms at each corner. “Too bad there’s no manual to go along with this.”

“Although”—Glare tilted her head and looked at several components from different angles—“this wall does look like the kind of hardware seen in some antique Hiigaran computers. I think they’re called motherboards.”

“How do you know about old Hiigaran tech?” Swift asked.

“I read. You should try it one day.”

“Hey, I read plenty!” Swift retorted with a stomp of his hoof, accompanied by a click of his mag boots.

“Comic books and reading material with centre-folds do not count.”

The pegasus raised a hoof and opened his mouth to respond, before pausing. “In that case, I retract my previous statement.”

Shadow cut in, “You were saying something about motherboards, Glare? I assume you had a point to make.”

“Hmm? Right, well if this is anything even remotely similar to those boards, you may want to look around for storage components instead. This would likely be a processing unit, but it might not house its own data storage.”

Shadow scanned the entire wall. “There has to be a good forty or fifty major components here. How are we supposed to figure out which one of these is the right component then?”

“Why not just grab them all?” Shift suggested, shrugging. “Might be a little tricky, but we’re weightless. We can manage.”

“Probably would be faster than figuring out which component is the right one anyway,” Swift chimed in. “You fellas wanna stick around for more Raiders to come, while you study each piece? I mean, not that I’d say no to a little Raider flank whooping, as Shadow would call it.”

Shadow sighed. “I was hoping to avoid that, but somehow I doubted we’d see a big flashing sign pointing to what we needed.”

“Great, you’re finally back. And not a moment too soo—” Eclipse stopped, upon sighting Swift and Shift spilling the contents in one of several bags into the surrounding air. He watched as the pair frantically retrieved the alien hardware. “What—what’s all this?”

“We didn’t know which one held the data, so we took everything.” Waving a hood in dismissal, Swift continued. “Figured it would be the research division’s problem now. Don’t worry, we made sure to take clear images of everything first. Oi Glare! Pop the other bags down in the corner there, will ya?”

Eclipse’s eyebrows gained significant altitude. “There’s more?”

“Ohoho yeah! This’ll keep the nerds busy for a while.”

“Unfortunately, it also means you six will be busy as well. I don’t have any crew who can catalogue and store all of this at the moment.”

“Buck.”

“In any case, I’m glad you’re all back aboard. Raiders are acting suspicious, and we thought they might have detected us despite our cloak. We’re high-tailing it out of here. Now get to work. I’ll be back in the command centre.”

“Infiltrators back aboard, sir,” Crux reported.

Breathing a sigh of relief, the Captain turned to Sierra. “Initiate hyperspace, Ensign. Get us out of here.”

“With pleasure,” Sierra replied, hitting one of the buttons at her seat controls.

Quickly reaching for the inter-phone, Quasar made his usual announcement. “This is the Captain. Stand by for immediate hyperspace jump.”

The muffled noise of the ship’s hyperdrives could be heard as the hyperspace window consumed the vessel. Realising her entire body had been tensed for several minutes, Sierra relaxed. “Jump procedures complete,” she reported. “We should be home in—”

Amarok shuddered, drowning out the officer’s voice as several alarms made themselves known in the command centre. The cause of the chaos was immediately identified on almost every screen, causing Quasar to reach for the ship’s inter-phone.

“This is the Captain! Stand by for emergency hyperspace exit!”

Emerging in a large dust ring orbiting a young star, it seemed Amarok did not get far, if the surrounding constellations were any indication. With barely any difference in their patterns, it was likely the vessel had only travelled across one or two solar systems from the Ghost Ship.

“Ensign, report!”

“Engineering reports no significant damage, and the hyperdrives were functioning as expected prior to the jump. Currently recharging normally. My logs suggest external factors caused the quantum waveform to collapse. Looks like a hyperspace inhibitor is set up somewhere.”

Crux cut in before Quasar could reply, “Captain, sensors are picking up contacts two-zero klicks out, directly ahead of us. Oh, and this audio transmission just came through …”

Playing back the transmission, a deep, almost bored voice filled the command centre. “Alright, let’s do this the easy way. Power down your systems for boarding, and we will spare your ship’s crew. Resist, and be destroyed.”

Quasar suppressed a groan. “Of course this mission was too simple. Lieutenant Sabre, target anything valuable. Fire at will. Specialist, get me an open channel, then coordinate with the Lieutenant.”

Crux made the necessary arrangements at his station. Confirming active comms, he announced, “Channel is open, sir.”

“This is the Captain of the Equestrian Navy vessel Amarok. You are interfering with Navy operations. Disable your hyperspace inhibitor, or we will be forced to do it for you. This is your only warning.”

“Five bits says they won’t comply,” Eclipse remarked.

The Raider’s reply arrived shortly after. “Your threats are meaningless, Captain. You are but one ship, hiding behind an ineffective cloaking device. I will ask you again. Power down immediately and surrender.”

Quasar dragged out the silence between the two vessels. “So you were there at the Ghost Ship, then?”

“I was not. I’ll admit, you surprised us. One ship, foolish enough to jump into the heart of a large fleet. By the time the main fleet discovered you, it took too long to power up our inhibitors. Fortunately, the inhibitors on our fleet are active. The main fleet figured you would head in this direction sooner or later though, so here we are.”

“I don’t suppose you’re aware of this ship’s capabilities?” Quasar asked, continuing to buy time.

“I have an idea. Irrelevant, like this conversation, however. Last chance to turn your ship over to us.”

“See, I think you’re just bluffing. It’s curious we were detected, but it would seem your fleet lacks the same capabilities of the ‘main fleet’, as you call them. My theory should be proven correct in five, four, three, two, one …”

Several distant eruptions of plasma were visible on the external cameras, as six torpedoes impacted with the stationary targets. Grinning, the Captain shook his head, “Imagine how embarrassing that would have been if I was wrong. Right, Specialist, that inhibitor field still up?”

“I’m afraid so, Captain,” Crux replied.

“Of course it is. Lieutenant Azimuth, plot a course around the fleet and position us abeam the bulk of the vessels, five klicks out. Ensign Sierra, ahead three G, one-five second delay.” Hitting the internal comms, Quasar added, “This is the Captain. Stand by for moderate G manoeuvres.”

Reading back their orders, the officers went to work, while the torpedo crew strained under the forces of acceleration to reload the tubes. As Amarok re-positioned, Arc Sabre identified his next seven targets. Inspecting the eight targets they hit, he could see the damaged Rancor still operational, while several Daggers were completely obliterated. The remaining nineteen frigates had assumed a wall formation ahead of the carrier, from which several squadrons of corvettes launched and established a defensive sphere around the damaged command ship.

Performing a quick measurement, Arc Sabre seized an opportunity to cause as much damage to as many frigates as possible. Selecting one of the centre-most frigates, he targeted the voids at each corner of the ship instead. By his calculations, four torpedoes detonating at those points would destroy or damage nine frigates enough to at least take them out of the fight. Certainly more efficient than one direct strike per frig, he reasoned.

His theory proved solid. As soon as Amarok had moved into place and reduced acceleration to safe levels, the next set of torpedoes split off into two directions. Tubes one to four went for the frigate formation, while five and six hit the carrier, vaporising many of the corvettes in the process. The last remaining torpedo in the rear tubes followed soon after, finishing the capital ship off.

“Rancor down,” Crux announced. “Hyperspace inhibitor field is no longer present. Sensors also confirm significant damage to multiple daggers. I count ten still operational. They appear to be breaking formation and heading in multiple directions.”

Sabre grinned. “We’ve got them on the run now.”

Crux shook his head. “I wouldn’t celebrate just yet. They’re still eager to fight. All of them have deployed their arrays and look like they’re firing in random directions.”

“Ensign Sierra, ahead two-G. Let’s see if we can’t move behind those four facing u—” Quasar was interrupted when a shudder and groaning creaks were heard throughout the vessel. Immediately after, several alarms sounded at multiple stations. “Oh shi—damage report!”

“Moderate damage sustained to the rear sensor array, plus minor hull damage near the engineering deck,” Sierra replied. Inspecting a schematic of the ship on one of her screens, she added “No hull breach detected. Looks like they just raked it across the hull. No injuries reported across the decks so far.”

“Lucky hit,” Quasar grumbled. “How long until those drives are charged, Ensign?”

“Less than a minute, sir,” Sierra replied.

“Lieutenant Sabre, torpedo status?”

“Tubes still reloading. Number six almost ready,”

“Fire on that frig as soon as you have the opportunity.”

“With pleasure.”

Several blips appeared on Crux’s sensor manager. “Captain, I’m detecting multiple hyperspace signatures. One-zero klicks bearing two-eight-eight, inclination zero-seven.”

“And that’s our queue to leave. Ensign, get us out of here the moment those drives are charged, preferably before we’re trapped by more inhibitor fields,” Quasar ordered, issuing the relevant announcement over the intercom.

“Wait, wait,” Sabre held a hoof up at Sierra. After a few seconds, he leaned back in his seat. “Okay, go ahead. Tube six just fired.”

Nodding, Sierra sent the order to engineering, and Amarok departed promptly. Everyone in the command deck held their breath.

After the sound of the hyperspace jump procedure ceased, Quasar looked around and waited for a few seconds. “Did we make it this time?”

Sierra also waited, her eyes jumping from screen to screen. Satisfied, she turned back to the Captain. “I think so. Looks like we’re on our way home.”

Exhaling, Quasar reclined, before standing his crew down. "Have damage control teams sent to the aft sensors. We'll worry about repairing external damage once we exit hyperspace."

21: Revelation

“Siddy, I guarantee you, nothing’s gonna happen if you look like yourself in public, mate,” Shift lectured the blue unicorn in the middle of the group.

“I disagree. I don’t even know why I let you two drag me out with you in the first place.”

“We’re doing you a favour here,” Swift joined in. “You need to loosen up a bit. Get that stick out of your flank and have some fun for once in your life. Besides, it’s not a squad outing without the whole squad. Ooh, this is the club. Hey, they’ve got that cute little DJ here tonight! Looks like she’s on in twenty minutes, too.”

Sighing, Obsidian pulled out a pair of earplugs and pushed them in as far as they would go. Even outside the club, the bass could be felt. After making sure no one was watching, the earplugs disappeared in two tiny puffs of green fire.

Making their way past the bouncer Obsidian could only describe as overgrown, they pushed past crowds that cheered as a song ended. At one end was a small stage, where a dark pegasus with a spiked mane had his hoof raised. “Wooooo! You’ve all been awesome!” he shouted. “But let’s face it. You’re here for the legend herself. Have fun! Bassline out!”

More cheering followed from ponies surrounding the bar opposite to the stage, and the various standing pub tables nearby. Looking up, the group saw more ponies leaning on barriers bordering a second floor ledge that overlooked the lower floor. Heading up a flight of stairs at one corner, Swift and Shift found a small, empty booth, save for a few discarded drinks from the previous occupants. Squeezing in, Shadow and Obsidian went first. Swift and Shift took up the left side, while Glare and Sparky barely managed to fit on the right.

“Oh you’re gonna love her. Swift and I listen to her all the time,” Shift explained, pushing the empty glasses away. He swept his hoof out, gesturing at the stage they had a decent view of. Catching sight of a nearby waitress, he raised his hoof. “’Scuse me! We able to order some drinks?”

“Sure,” the purple earth pony replied, approaching the six. She distributed a pair of drink menus already in her possession. “What can I get for y’all?”

“Uhh, we’ll take whatever beer you got on tap. Yo Sparks! What’re you going for?” he called out to the diamond dog, who had skimmed over the list. As Sparky pointed at the drink on the menu, Swift gave him a look. “Seriously? Alright, one cosmo for the big guy. Shadow?”

“Single malt, please. Neat.”

“Obsidian?”

“I don’t drink. I’ll just take a glass of water.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that correctly. We’ll start you off on one shot of vodka,” Swift continued. Pausing, he whispered for a triple in a glass. “And Glare?”

“Do you have a pear cider? One please.”

Finalising the order, the mare cleared the table and left. Music continued to blare from speakers mounted all over the club. Though the stage had darkened, it was just possible to make out a couple of ponies wheeling various equipment about.

While they waited, Obsidian turned to the pegasus twins. “Right, so given we’ve been working together for a while, I have to ask. What’s your story? I’ve always wondered what made you two special enough to be selected as Infiltrators.”

Swift laughed. “We were just as confused at first. Quasar and Eclipse themselves decided to visit us at our house in Murrumbatemare. Little town, a hundred klicks south-west of Sydneigh. Anyway, we kinda assumed the Navy was just looking to bring us ex-guards back into the action, given the experience, and that we were also some of the first sharpshooters they had. Nope. Apparently we showed up on their sensors after a bit of an incident we had.”

“Yeah, so we like to go camping often,” Shift continued. “Usually we pick new places we’ve never explored before, so we load up some food, bit of the amber fluid, some basic equipment, and fly out. Pretty standard stuff. Problem was, we cheaped out on our map, and got something basic. We were unaware we’d be setting down near a river bank in dropbear territory.”

“Dropbears?” Glare piped up. “What are they?”

“Surprised you’ve never heard of them, given how everypony likes to take the piss from us blokes living out there. They’re basically creatures that fall out of trees and tear you to shreds,” Swift explained, using his hooves to demonstrate. “Lotta fellas think they’re myths because they’re not known for leaving survivors. Some ponies just go out into the woods and never return. Sometimes they’re found. Or at least, parts of them. The Everfree forest’s got nothing on dropbears!”

Obsidian raised an eyebrow. “And you two still go camping, knowing this?”

Swift raised his hooves in defence. “Hey, like Shift said, we weren’t aware this was dropbear territory. So on the second day of our trip, we heard rustling, and we managed to dodge this ball of teeth and claws coming straight down above us. Thing looked at me like a rabid dog, and I knew straight away we had to get out of there. Turns out those nasty buggers can jump in a flash, and I had barely gained altitude before it grabbed my tail and pinned me down. I had no time to register the fact that my wing popped out of place when it took a swipe at my hoof.”

Shift took over narration. “That’s where I came in. I didn’t even think. I flew at that thing head-first and knocked it off Swift. All the while, it was flailing and snarling, managing to pull out a good deal of my feathers before I crushed it against the trunk of a nearby tree. As soon as I jumped away from it, I took a large branch from the ground, and spent the next minute making sure it wouldn’t be getting up again.”

Swift leaned back in his seat, folding his hooves. “In all that commotion though, our tents were knocked into our campfire. It quickly spread to our bags nearby, and we pretty much lost everything we had. I couldn’t fly with a dislocated wing, and Shift couldn't fly with his feathers out, so we were ground bound. At one point, we tried climbing a tree to see if we could catch a low flying cloud. Could have fit us both, so we could use a wing each to propel ourselves back home. Unfortunately, we couldn’t reach it.”

“The rest was pretty much history,” Shift finished. “We got out of dropbear territory pretty quickly, and we just used the sun as an approximate navigation aid until we found familiar natural landmarks. Managed to get in the local papers when we got back to town, which was pretty neat. So I guess the lesson we learned was to make sure you have a reliable map. Don’t grab something just because it’s the cheapest.”

“Funny,” Glare commented. “The lesson I would have learned is to not go camping.”

“Sook. You can’t stop doing what you love, just because you had one bad experience. You drink a cup of concrete, and harden the buck up, that’s what you do!”

The group continued to chat for several minutes, until the waitress returned with their order, placing coasters, and the relevant drinks down for all six. “Anything else I can get for y’all?”

“Nah mate, we’re good for now. Cheers, fellas!” Swift and Shift raised their bottles, and the others all clinked their glasses. The group took sips, except for Obsidian and the twins, with the former setting the glass aside after sniffing the contents, and the latter emptying a third of their bottles in one go. Seeing the untouched glass in front of the changeling, Swift picked it up and held it in front of him. “Come on Obsidian! Down the hatch!”

The changeling refused to take the glass from the pegasus. “I told you, I don’t dri—”

Timing it right, Swift shot the contents of the glass into the changeling’s mouth with impeccable accuracy.

“SKRAWWWWW!”

“Oh Celestia, what the buck was that?” Swift was on the verge of tears, as Obsidian spluttered and made the strangest guttural sound.

“Why”—Obsidian coughed—“do ponies drink this?”

Still cackling, the pegasus put a wing around Obsidian. “Like I said, beetle butt, to loosen up.”

A sudden change in lighting drew everyone’s attention to the stage. Most of the lights had dimmed or turned off, while sets of blue lasers streaked through clouds that spewed from fog machines. Gentle electronic tones played, building up to a climax a minute in. Simultaneously, the bass blasted through the speakers and lights illuminated the DJ and her equipment.

The white unicorn, with her trademark, electric-blue shaggy mane and purple glasses, got her audience roaring with excitement. The pegasus twins were bipedal on their seats, whoops and hollers bellowing from them. Obsidian already felt nauseous. Sparky was drumming his digits against the table in time to the music, while Glare and Shadow merely bobbed their heads lightly to the tempo.

Songs passed. The mare on stage utilised a wide array of hardware at her disposal, from sequencers and turntables, to keytars and laser harps. Several songs in, the twins were already dancing on the floor below, disappearing later with a pair of unicorn mares. Glare was nursing her second cider and Shadow asked for the rest of her whisky's bottle. Sparky held half of a large watermelon in his paw, it’s contents replaced with a strawberry lemonade vodka presented with a straw, sprig of mint, and a skewer of strawberry and lemon.

“She’s quite talented, isn’t she?” Shadow’s voice was barely heard over the tracks. An agreeable grunt came from the diamond dog.

“I’ve only listened to her stuff a few times, but that was a long time ago,” Glare remarked. “She’s branched out with her instruments, but I’d recognise her style, regardless.”

“She—she looks like a ‘chillax’ pony though,” Obsidian slurred, referring to one of his earlier conversations with Glare. “I honestly th—urp”—he brought a hoof to his mouth—“thought DJs simply pressed a play button and everything else was just a show, though.”

Shadow laughed. “You’ve never been to one of these clubs before?”

“I try to avoid loud noises.”

“Bad news for you then. She’s probably only about halfway through her performance.”

“I guess that means I’m probably going to have to cut tonight short,” Glare interjected. “Need to do something early in the morning.”

The zebra looked towards Glare, slightly disappointed. “You need to leave now?”

“I think I might as well. Tomorrow isn’t a day I want to be tired on.”

Shadow nodded. “I understand. Was nice to have at least one night out as a group, even if it was short-lived. I take it you’re going to head off as well, Obsidian? You look like you need any excuse to leave.”

“Probably for the best. I’m swaying like a … thing that sways here.”

Chuckling, Shadow turned to the diamond dog. “What about you Sparky? You’re not planning to leave early as well, are you?”

Looking down at his drink, Sparky replied with his best ‘Are you serious?’ face and shook his head.

“Alright you two. Get home safe. I’ll cover the bill.”

Glare stepped out into the cold night, a notable ringing in her ears that screamed at her, while Obsidian followed, stumbling behind. She looked back at him with concern. “Are you alright to make it back to your hotel from here?”

“Uh huh. I’ll be fine,” the changeling replied, heading down the street. He made it about ten metres before he stopped, looked around, then turned back the way he came. “Wrong way,” he said, passing by Glare as he continued towards the other end of the street. He didn’t seem to notice tripping over his own hooves when he mumbled, “I think I’m lost.”

Moving to Obsidian’s side, Glare lifted the wobbly changeling back up, supporting him with her side. “Come on. My place is not too far from here anyway.”

The half hour journey to Glare’s house was spent in relative silence. Shivering, Glare pressed on, noting empty streets with an occasional pony here or there. She figured it was that time of the night where it was too late to go out, yet too early to go home.

“Tonight could have been worse, but I don’t think I expected it to end like this,” Glare stated.

“Nor I,” Obsidian groaned.

“What do you think happened to Swift and Shift, anyway?”

“Don’t care. Probably hooked up with those floozies. Either way, Swift is a dead pegasus when—when I get my hooves around his neck. Or Shift. Was it Sh—whatever. I’ll strangle them both for good measure.”

The changeling trailed off into incoherent ramblings about the twins until the two approached Glare’s house. The unicorn could see lights on from one of the lower windows as she headed up the small path to the entrance. “Good. Dad’s still up.” Knocking, Glare waited as the blurry figure approached the door. Hearing the sound of locks opening, she stepped back as the door swung open.

“Glare? What are—” Flare stopped upon sighting Obsidian leaning against the wall with his eyes closed and mouth open. “Oh dear. How much did he have to drink?”

“Three.”

“Three? Bottles?”

“Shots.”

“Huh. Didn’t expect military types to be such lightweights.” He paused, as Obsidian’s legs gave out. Eyeing the crumpled heap, he looked back at Glare. “He’s not going to make a mess is he?”

“I … don’t think so.”

“Alright, let’s get him in the spare room.” Grunting, Flare lifted Obsidian up onto his back, while Glare supported him with magic as they ascended the stairs. “So, when did you get back?”

“This afternoon. A few of my uhh, colleagues insisted on having a night out. As you can see, this is the end result.”

“I take it you haven’t had the chance to visit Glint yet?”

“First thing on my list in the morning.”

“Ahh, perfect. You can come with me when I sign the discharge papers, then.”

“WHAT?” Glare shouted, her magic cutting off in the process. She did not even realise Obsidian slid off and rolled down the stairs in his best impression of a ragdoll. “She’s cured? When did this happen?”

“I’ll tell you everything once we get your friend sorted out.”

Gasping, Glare galloped down the stairs. Flare followed, and the pair managed to retrieve Obsidian and carry him to the spare room. Covering him with a blanket, Glare followed her father downstairs to the living room. “So you were saying about Glint?”

“Right. Do you remember the day we found out about Glint’s condition?”

“I’ll never forget. I was crying for days.”

“So was I. Well then, you’d remember me explaining how the Doctors thought it was a certain illness due to specific symptoms, yet were unsure when tests could not produce positive results for it. As a result, treatments were only symptomatic, delaying the onset of additional symptoms. As we saw, those symptoms came about faster than we had expected.”

“So what changed? Did somepony find a cure?”

“Not exactly. About a month ago there were sudden changes in Glint’s symptoms. After the Doctors looked into it, I was told she had been misdiagnosed. Even though it was only a suspected disease, they were completely wrong about it.”

Glare looked towards her father with hope in her eyes. “So they figured out what was actually wrong with her?”

“They did. Motricium Sclerosis Magicis. Rare condition with similar symptoms. I was asked to come in and provide further information about Glint’s history, but found it odd when I was asked if she ever had episodes of magical surges, like every foal does.”

“Come to think of it, I don’t think she ever did. It is odd, but how is it relevant?”

“The way it was explained was that unicorns are unable to regulate the magical energy produced at that age, which is why excess magic results in those surges. That energy needs to be released somehow. In cases like Glint’s, a foal may have an abnormally large capacity for magic—”

“—And the reason she never surged when she was younger,” Glare concluded.

“Precisely. Apparently it’s genetic. Seems to run on your mother’s side of the family.”

“Then why wasn’t I affected? I’m fairly certain you’ve mentioned me having surges before.”

“A third of our greenhouse was knocked down from one of your episodes,” Flare chuckled. “I remember how your mother went into a panicked rush to save her little herb garden. But magically, you were hyperactive, always insisting on picking things up. Or ponies, if you were so inclined.”

“I picked ponies up as a foal?”

“You have no idea how shocked I was when you first twirled me about like a doll! Anyway, back to Glint, it seems there are long-term effects to excess magic buildups, primarily disrupting the regulation of magical energy production. For her, this caused an endless loop that eventually affected other parts of her body as she got older. Magic is drawn to the nervous system, particularly to parts responsible for movement, causing lesions that interrupt or block normal signals if there’s too much stored.”

“Will she recover? Will those lesions heal?”

“I was assured that with a few rounds of medication, and some regular exercises to help with her excess magic, she should make a full recovery. Apart from some minor muscular atrophy from being bed-bound, her motor functions have almost completely returned.”

“Wait, wait. You said this started a month ago? The first time we met since I joined the Navy?” Glare asked, performing some mental maths. She concluded the timing was correct. “Obsidian.”

“Hmm? What about him?”

“What were these changes to Glint’s symptoms?”

“Off the top of my head, there were unusual spikes in magical energy that weren’t present before, as well as significantly different readings on her EEG. It only ever happened once, but whatever the cause was, it pushed the Doctors onto the right path, it seems.”

Tears were welling up in Glare’s eyes. “Excuse me for a moment.” Rushing up the stars, she entered the spare room, finding the disguised changeling right where she left him. Without pause, she hugged Obsidian tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered over and over, tears streaming down her face.

Flare entered shortly after. “Come on,” he said softly, giving Glare a gentle nudge. “Let him rest. Besides, I think this is the part where you explain what that was about, right?”

Sniffing, Glare wiped her eyes as she left the room. “Obsidian is—has a …” she paused, trying to find the right words. “He’s talented with certain types of magic. He can manipulate emotions and transfer them between ponies. The day we first returned to visit Glint, he transferred some of my emotions to her. He said emotions and memories are tied to each other, so he helped me share mine with Glint.”

“And you think that was why Glint had those new symptoms?”

“I’m certain of it. I asked him once to experiment with transferring some of his emotions to me. The results were … well, I’d need a while to explain all the effects, but I had similar symptoms as a result of the transfer.”

“You can”—Flare yawned—“excuse me. You can tell me all about it tomorrow then. You should go get some rest as well. We’ll be waking up early.”

Glare stared at the clock on her night-stand, watching as the seconds ticked by. Two-thirty, yet the unicorn had no desire to sleep. Too many thoughts flowed through her mind. How would she react seeing Glint galloping about once again? What would be the first thing they’d do together? How would she repay Obsidian for what he had done?

Obsidian.

Rising from her bed, Glare crept out of her room, head low. Her Infiltrator senses kicking in, she scanned the corridor, before making her way silently towards the spare room, opening the door and sliding in. Looking towards the bed, she found Obsidian’s head peeking out from the striped covers, devoid of disguise.

Must have lost it while he was out, Glare deduced, thankful the changeling’s involuntary reversion did not occur earlier. Glancing back, she approached the door. Can’t have dad walking in to find a changeling in his house, she figured, rotating the lock beneath the handle.

Returning her focus on Obsidian, she moved up to the side of the bed and wiggled in under the covers. Facing the changeling, she wrapped her hooves around his body and held him close, sighing as she closed her eyes.

How are you still out from just three drinks?

Obsidian had finally returned to the land of the living when a sparrow perched itself on the window’s ledge, chirping intermittently. “Mmmmrgh,” the changeling grumbled, cracking open an eyelid, only to clamp it shut immediately after suffering a retinal assault from the sun; an unusual phenomenon, considering the overcast skies.

Pulling the covers over his head, Obsidian attempted to open his eyes at a snail’s pace, allowing himself to adjust to the light more comfortably. His ears however, were still under attack from the annoying avian outside. It continued to hop up and down the ledge, until its tail burst into green flame. The sparrow flew off screaming, a brief trail of smoke marking its flight-path. Inside, the changeling pressed on the base of his horn as a migraine pulsed through his head.

Rolling out of the bed, Obsidian stumbled towards the window, closing the blinds. A large glass of water caught his eye atop the nearby dresser, with a note underneath. Downing the contents of the glass, he skimmed through the note.

Obsidian, out with dad, back after lunch, got a surprise, love Gla—“Love Glare? Surprise? What?”

An ear twitched at the sound of a distant door opening. Two sets of hoofsteps followed, accompanied by a third, more rapid set. Mild panic setting in, Obsidian quickly inspected himself in the mirror mounted on the wall. A quick flash of light and a grimace later, a blue unicorn stared back at him, just in time for a pair of knocks against his own door.

Glare’s voice followed. “Obsidian? Are you up?”

A short pause followed, before Obsidian manager to stammer, “Yea—yeah, I’m uhh, just putting on my face.”

“Well hurry up. There’s somepony I want you to meet.”

Confused, the changeling made his way to the door. As he reached for the handle, he flinched, sensing powerful emotions from the other side. Ignoring the panic that started to rise again, he pulled the door open.

“About time,” Glare started, wearing an excited smile. “I was wondering if you’d ever wake up.”

“Let’s just say alcohol and ‘lings don’t mix. Our livers are tiny. Next time I see that pegasus, I’m going to murder him.”

“Yeah, I remember you going into a disturbing amount of detail on that last night. Let’s just hold off on the murdering for now, okay? Come on.”

Descending the stairs, the pair took a right turn into the living room. Awaiting their arrival was Flare, who wore the faintest hint of a grin. “Well, look who finally got up. Sleep well?”

Before Obsidian had a chance to reply, a filly’s head popped up behind the couch. “Hello!”

The changeling blinked. “Is—is that—”

“That is.” Glare nodded, her eyes glistening. “That’s my sister.”

“The Doctors finally cured her?”

“You did!” Glint vaulted over the couch, tripping as she landed.

“Easy now, sweetie. You remember what we said?” Flare lectured, lifting the filly back onto her hooves. “You need to get used to using your hooves again.”

Glint pouted. “Arrgh, dumb hooves!”

Obsidian frowned in confusion. “Wait, I cured Glint? How?”

“A bit of an exaggeration, but you were reason she was cured in the first place,” Flare started, placing a hoof around Glint. He continued recounting the events leading up to Glint’s recovery in detail. When he finished, Flare shook Obsidian’s hoof. “I wish I could repay you for what you’ve done, but nothing would compare to giving me my daughter back.”

Obsidian fidgeted, not used to getting thanked. Managing an awkward smile, silence hung in the air until Glare spoke up, “Hey Glint, you want to go check out your room? Dad got you some new stuff last week.”

“But I wanna talk more with mister Obsidian! I’ve never met a changeling before.”

Glare’s eyes bulged, darting between the other three. Uh oh.

Aaaaand I’m buzzed, Obsidian resigned himself to the inevitable.

Flare froze. A single twitch was visible from one corner of his mouth. “Glare, please take Glint up to her room.”

“Dad,” Glare began.

“Now, please.”

Glare ushered her sister up the stairs. “Come on, Glint. Let’s go see what you’ve got upstairs.” Giving Obsidian a final, worried look, she disappeared.

Flare waited until he could no longer hear hoofsteps. “So. A changeling?”

Obsidian saw no reason to lie anymore. “That’s correct.”

“If I’m going to speak to you, could you at least do me the courtesy of dropping the facade?”

“Very well.” Nodding, Obsidian enveloped his body in green flames.

Flare took a step back when the dark creature appeared before him. Regaining his composure, he scrutinised Obsidian. “What are you playing at? If you’ve harmed Glare—”

“What makes you think I’ve harmed her?”

“You’re a changeling. That’s what your kind does. You worm your way into society and leech off innocent ponies, like a plague of locusts to crops.”

“Wow, three references to creepy crawlies in one sentence. Original,” Obsidian practically exuded sarcasm. “Typical pony. Overly dramatic, completely ignorant, and exhibiting textbook signs of speciesism.”

“How hypocritical of you.”

“Is it? Look at your hospitality up until now. Look how your demeanour changed. First thing you did was to accuse me of malicious behaviour with no proof whatsoever.”

“My demeanour tends to change when I’ve been lied to. As for proof? History is proof enough. Now get out of my house!” Flare shouted, pointing a hoof at the door.

“Dad!” Glare yelled as she reappeared at the base of the stairs. “You can’t talk to Obsidian like that!”

“That”—Flare poked Obsidian in the chest—“is a changeling, Glare! You know what they’ve done to Equestria. To our family! How can you even defend it and their kind for their actions?”

“Why are you judging an individual for the actions of a group? You can’t blame soldiers for carrying out orders.”

“Those soldiers are the reason your mother is not around anymore.”

“Obsidian didn’t mean to. It was an accid—mmph!” Glare covered her mouth when she realised what she had said.

“That one is responsible?” Flare exclaimed, looking between the pair. “You’re the one who murdered my wife? And you knew this whole time, Glare? You’ve been working with that—that thing that killed your mother, and it doesn’t bother you?”

“He didn’t murder anypony! It was a unicorn’s spell that bounced off his armour. He had nothing to do with it.”

“Oh, is that what it told you?”

“Glare”—Obsidian tapped Glare—“I think you need to stop talking.”

“Why? Something to hide?” Flare cut in. “Makes me wonder how many atrocities you have committed. How many ponies had to suffer because of you and your kind?”

“What do you know of suffering?” Obsidian barked. “We were starving. Dying. And it was entirely the fault of that xenophobic princess who parades around thinking she’s some buzzing sun goddess!”

“Don’t you dare disrespect Princess Celestia. That mare is a hero, and the kindest—”

“Enough!” Obsidian charged Flare, knocking him to the ground and pinning him on his back.

Glare shrieked, “Obsidian, stop!”

Ignoring Glare’s cries, the changeling pushed his head against Flare’s, lighting up his horn. In a flash, Flare went limp, and his facial expression became vacant.

A vision of darkness with blurry blue dots entered Flare’s mind. As the scene came into focus, he could make out hundreds of changelings crawling on the stone ground of a large cave. Weak. Emaciated. Many who were young. The vision faded all too quickly into nothing, before another appeared, this time from one’s point of view. The changeling piled several head-sized rocks into a mound, pausing as it looked around at countless rows of similar heaps.

Several other events flashed by in rapid succession. Princess Celestia reeling at the sight of Queen Chrysalis. Royal guards rounding up changelings and hauling them into overcrowded dungeons. The Canterlot invasion. An amethyst tail protruding from rubble. A forest littered with changelings, their bodies bruised, broken, or worse. Visions of changelings, hunted and chased out of towns.

Reality suddenly returned, when Glare pushed Obsidian off Flare. The stallion instantly regained consciousness, gasping in horror and panting as he watched the changeling return to his hooves. His hearing took a little extra time to return to normal, and could barely hear the muffled words Glare and Obsidian exchanged.

“Are you out of your mind? Attacking my dad? What’s gotten into you?”

“I didn’t attack him. He just received years of hatred, suffering, and sorrow in a concentrated dose,” Obsidian explained, a venomous growl to his voice. He turned, lowering his head towards Flare. “Many of those ‘lings were friends or family. I know the feeling of loss more than you could imagine. Watching as others cry and collapse, shouting the names of those they’ve lost into the sky. To feel each emotion pierce your heart like a dagger”—he placed the edge of his hoof on Flare’s chest and applied pressure—“Slowly. Gradually. These are fates I would not wish upon anyone.”

Flare’s mouth opened and closed multiple times and Obsidian stepped back. The changeling’s visions remained burned into his mind with intense clarity. “Obsidian, I—I had no idea.”

“I don’t exactly share my memories freely.” Realising his entire body was shaking as much as his voice had been quivering, Obsidian dropped on to the sofa and stared into the lifeless fireplace. “When we share energy, an emotional connection forms for several hours. Do you know the feeling of sharing a connection while comforting someling dying? It’s not their fear, not their helplessness that gets to you. It’s the fading, like dispersing smoke leaving you”—his voice faltered—“leaving you desperately searching for something no longer there. That’s when the hollow feeling sets in, as if you had died with them. And I have died. So many times.”

The changeling continued staring off into the distance, even as a long period of silence loomed over the three. Barely noticing the cushion shifting, Obsidian felt Glare sit down beside him, before her hooves enveloped him tightly. Leaning towards the unicorn, Obsidian shut his eyes in an attempt to stop tears from rolling out.

Flare finally rose from the floor. Backing away, he cleared his throat. “I’ll … I’ll be upstairs for a bit.” Turning around, he left the pair alone in silence, with Glare gently rocking back and forth.

Obsidian had almost forgotten about one final thing that hung in the air. “Glare?”

“Hmm?”

Hesitating, Obsidian placed a wing around the mare. “The feeling is mutual.”

The unicorn took a few seconds to understand. When she did, her only response was to squeeze Obsidian tighter.

Obsidian spent several hours wandering aimlessly through Canterlot to clear his head. Disguised once more, he found himself near the castle courtyard around mid-afternoon. The morning clouds that had covered the skies earlier had dispersed, bringing about a light chill.

Seating himself on a nearby bench, the changeling watched as ponies traversed the wide path, bordered by neatly trimmed hedges, flower beds, and red maple trees that stood out with their striking foliage. Looking up at the white castle and its numerous pointed turrets, resentment started to build up inside him.

Several minutes passed, when two familiar ponies emerged from the castle grounds. Princess Celestia and Princess Cadance conversed as they headed past Obsidian, whose loathsome expression intensified. Cadance looked in Obsidian’s direction momentarily, before continuing her conversation with Celestia. Soon after, the pair stopped and turned around, approaching the bench Obsidian occupied.

Sighing, the changeling muttered under his breath, “Great. Just what I need.”

The Princesses each sat beside Obsidian. Celestia was the first to speak. “A fine day today, is it not? Perhaps a little cold for my liking, but still wonderful weather.”

“Cut the crap Celestia. I know you know who I am.”

“Actually, it was I who had a suspicion,” Cadance spoke up. “Most ponies typically hold no ill will towards any of the Princesses, but you? Those are intense feelings you have there.”

“What. Do you want?” Obsidian growled through gritted teeth.

“To talk,” Celestia replied. “How are you faring in the Navy so far?”

“Don’t pretend to give a damn,” Obsidian spat. “You didn’t care when my Queen came to you for help. Why should you care now?”

Celestia sighed. “You have every right to be angry with me, Obsidian. My actions were short-sighted and borne of an irrational fear. Though the number of years I’ve ruled over Equestria runs into four-digit figures, it seems I still make plenty of mistakes. I failed at diplomacy, and I admit to that. Trying to improve the current situation is all I can do now.”

The changeling folded his hooves. “Well on behalf of everyling, you’re doing a great buzzing job. Now leave me alone.”

Princess Celestia looked off into the distance. After a period of silence, she looked back at the changeling. “Are you familiar with Hiigaran history?”

Obsidian hummed. “Why is there always a story about Hiigarans? Just say what you have to say.”

“Thousands of years ago, two great empires dominated our galaxy; the Hiigaran and the Taiidan. Each spread across hundreds of solar systems, but not without conflict. You see, tensions flared over who claimed ownership of planets across disputed borders, and after the Hiigaran Empire had enough of the Taiidan bribing and assassinating Galactic Council members to influence negotiations, they went to war. A war that did not end well for them.”

“Get to the point, Celestia.”

“Please, Obsidian. I’m trying to lead up to something. After the war, the Hiigarans were on the brink of extinction. A likely fate, had the Galactic Council not begged the Taiidan for mercy. An agreement was made under the condition that the Hiigarans would be sent into exile, with all memory of them expunged from history. Millennia passed, before the events of the Homeworld War. My point is, despite such conflict, despite even the brief period of control the Vaygr had over some Taiidan during the Vaygr Campaign, the Taiidan and the Hiigarans are now allies.”

“How underwhelming. You realise most of their citizens likely only know of those conflicts through other sources, right? Changelings, though? We’ve lived it. You can try reassuring me all you want, but if you’ve used a story where the moral is peace after several thousand years, you need to work on your speeches.”

“Please believe me when I say I do wish for peace and acceptance between our nations. I’d love to wake up tomorrow and see a world where ponies and changelings can co-exist, but these things take time. It was my hope that integrating changelings into our Navy would be a step towards that. That was how our relations with the griffons improved. It took years, but we got there. There’s no reason why it can’t work for your nation too. It certainly sounds better than thousands of years, no?”

Obsidian remained silent, refusing to look either Princess in their eyes.

Cadance leaned forward into Obsidian’s vision. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Something tells me my response will be irrelevant.”

“Why did you agree to serve in the Equestrian Navy?”

“I was chosen by my Queen.”

“Yes, but is that the only reason you serve? What else motivates you?”

Obsidian shrugged. “There seems to be a constant threat to our planet. I guess I just want to be a part of something that protects it. For the sake of my nation,” he clarified. “That, and I trust you about as far as I can throw you, when it comes to your Navy and its capabilities.”

Celestia appeared hurt. “After all this time, you still think so little of us? I suppose it’s understandable. Well, we’ve taken up enough of your time. I do hope you at least keep a more open mind about us.”

“Oh, he’s got more of an open mind than he lets on,” Cadance chimed in, a smirk on her face. “He’s just a little shy. What’s her name?”

“How do you—”

Cadance gave the changeling a playful nudge. “You seem to forget what I’m the Princess of. Don’t worry, I know her name. I just wanted to hear you say it.”

“If you breathe a single word to any—”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. It’s more exciting to watch this way.” Winking, Cadance rose, before Obsidian could figure out what she meant. “Now as much as I’d love to chat with you some more, Celestia and I have places to be. Remember, you’re stronger together, just like our nations. Hold on to that.”

Obsidian watched as the pair departed. “One of these days, I’m going to commit regicide,” he muttered. Shaking his head, he leaned back on the bench and looked up into the sky, watching pegasi fly about. Two distant dots caught his attention, moving erratically, while a delta formation of birds followed. Squinting, Obsidian could make out faint screaming over the honking of geese.

At least this downtime wasn’t a complete waste.

Luna’s moon filtered through the blinds of Glare’s bedroom, partially illuminating her desk and nearby floorboards. A calm stillness hung in the air of the otherwise dark room. For the most part, the two figures that lied in the bed at one corner made little movement, though neither had fallen asleep for several hours.

Facing the wall was Obsidian, who had returned a few hours prior. A hoof draped over his side while a muzzle rested on his neck. Figuring neither would end up resting that night, his hushed voice filled the room. “Can we agree on something the next time we get time off between missions?”

“Hmm? What’s that?”

“Let’s avoid all this drama. Would be nice not to deal with it for a third time in a row.”

“Agreed. I think it all turned out well enough in the end though, no?” Glare asked, emphasising by wiggling closer to the changeling.

“I guess.”

Another period of silence fell. This time, Glare spoke up. “So how come you never told me about those memories before?”

“You sort of asked me once, but at the time, I didn’t feel comfortable discussing it with someone who I barely knew. I guess after that, the topic never came up”—Obsidian shrugged, rolling onto his back—“or I figured I’d rather not show you something so depressing. I don’t think I ever want to show you those memories, even if I did have a weak moment with your father. You saw the look on his face afterwards, didn’t you? Wasn’t even the worst of my memories, either.”

Repositioning, Glare rested her head and left hoof diagonally across Obsidian’s chest before continuing. “How about we agree to not keep any more secrets from here on out? As cliche as that sounds.”

“Ehh, can we at least keep us a secret?”

“What?” Glare was taken slightly aback. “Why?”

“Well, for starters, while it’s not explicitly forbidden, this isn’t exactly encouraged in the Navy.”

“I can quit. Glint is cured. She was the only reason I joined the Navy.”

“I’m guessing you’re still within your minimum service period, so that’s not going to happen.”

“Oh. Yeah, minimum for me is one and a half years. How long has it been now? About ten or eleven months since basic, I think.”

“Regardless, there’s another reason. Don’t take this the wrong way, but as a changeling, being with a pony—genuinely, that is … well, it’s conflicting.”

“You’re ashamed of it?”

“No point sugar-coating it, I guess. Not because it’s you, specifically. I mean—it’s just—it’s just hard to get over the history between ‘lings and ponies.”

“I see. And here I was, excited to finally be with somepony I could show off to my friends.”

“You mean you’ve never—”

“I’ve never had the time. When I was younger, I was studying. After university, I was going job to job. Freelancing for the Canterlot Museum of Cultural History was probably as close as I got to having a stable job, before they hired somepony else full time and kicked me out. Then, the sudden influx of technology after our first encounter with the Hiigarans put a lot of ponies out of work. Why hire me when so many others with years of experience are competing for the same jobs?”

“By this point, I’d say you’re better off trying to track down Daring Do. With the skills you’ve learned from the Navy, plus your education, you’d make a good team.”

“Hah. If only.”

“I’m serious. Turns out those books aren’t works of fiction. They’re real. They’re embellished for entertainment purposes, but they're based on actual events.”

“I honestly can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

“How many times have you heard me tell a joke? Sarcasm aside.”

“Point taken. How did you figure out she’s real?”

“I’ve seen her. In a few isolated places. I’m surprised word never spread, to be honest. She never attempted to hide herself. Wonder what her relationship is with the author of those books.”

“Next time you see her, put in”—Glare interrupted herself with a yawn—“put in a good word for me. You feel like sleeping yet?”

“Not really. Don’t let me stop you, though.”

“Your loss. Glint is going to bombard you with questions tomorrow.”

“Fine by me.”

Glare giggled. “We’ll see if you’ll be saying that later on.” Sighing contently, she closed her eyes.

22: Captain's Log: Concerns

CREW AUDIO LOG
QUASAR, CMDR
AMAROK, STL. DESTROYER
9632.37654777175 GSY

Personal log, Commander Quasar,

Our retrieval mission was considered a success, though I had my concerns about the events that took place. Too many new developments for my liking. The unknown vessels, and our questionable stealth have been nagging at me for the past few hours, particularly the former. We don’t even know if the items retrieved are of value yet.

I don’t know what it is about those vessels, but they seem to strike an odd resemblance to something. Not sure what. But something. Combat data analysis indicated those battlecruiser-class vessels mount a single main weapon. Its appearance and design suggests the weapon is not some heavier variant of an ion cannon, but a railgun. If true, I can imagine a single round obliterating armour on any large vessel at long range. Whatever this vessel is, it seems to take inspiration from Vaygr battlecruisers and their trinity cannons; a first-strike weapon designed solely to hit hard.

Despite the attack philosophy, it’s difficult to say whether elements of the Vaygr in the ranks of the Raiders are behind this. It only seems like the most likely explanation, because it is the only plausible one. No, I suspect there’s more to this. The Raiders are really pushing forward with attacks in the galaxy, but there’s no reason for the change in behaviour.

I’ve been informed Basilisk will be sent on another retrieval mission. They’ve been tasked with infiltrating smaller Raider fleets to capture fleet commanders for interrogation. I suspect I may receive such assignments in the future for Amarok.

Still, the other concern to be addressed is of our stealth technology. Engineers and technicians have combed through every bit of software and hardware even remotely related to the cloak generators, and they haven’t found a single fault. No significant waves or fields leaking from the hull either. The only conclusion here is that the Raiders have improved their sensors to counter our stealth. Analysis of the combat data hasn’t come up with anything conclusive, but one theory has been brought up about certain behaviours observed by Raider vessels.

At some point during our mission, we noticed activity from the surrounding vessels. This was around the time we suspected we might have been detected. Reviewing combat data, it was noted that one of those battlecruisers got within four klicks of us, during the time our Infiltrators were away. Soon after, other ships started repositioning. Therefore, Fleet Intelligence suggests avoiding this vessel by at least five klicks, with a recommendation of ten, as well as extending avoidance to Rancors and Vindicators, in anticipation of potential retrofitting.

Whether these new sensors are omni-directional has yet to be determined. A ship’s sensors have always been ineffective in the direction of their drives, due to significant interference. Therefore, the aft-facing dead zone, or ‘cone of silence’ should still apply. Whatever the case, our navigation through an enemy fleet will now need to take avoidance into account, and to make better use of dead zone positioning.

Of course, considering how data links are established within a fleet, ships’ sensors are networked. If you’re in one’s dead zone, another could still detect you, depending on your position. Can’t even interrupt that data link. At least, not practically. Laser data transmission might be line-of-sight, but one ship in a fleet of ten is just going to reroute data via another, if a link is physically blocked.

In response to the potential existence of these new sensors, research division has prioritised development of cluster torpedoes for stealth destroyers. Type E, Mark One anti-subsystem torpedoes. Visually identical to Type D, with the same cloaking features. The warhead however, contains two halves, with eight uncloaked torpedoes in each. Thankfully, these torpedoes have proper guidance systems, due to smaller plasma containment fields. It’s intended to take out large numbers of sensors in one go, leaving fleets isolated from their networks and blind to our position. I wonder if they can be used on fighters and ‘vettes as well …

In other news, word on the streets back home was that we returned days after some magical incident in Ponyville. Apparently, every form of magic was sapped planet-wide, which probably explained why Aurora had been moored in orbit for a while. Interesting to note that no crew outside our solar system was affected, but knowing Princess Twilight, the research division will likely test the effective range of this sapping. Fleet Intelligence seems to be on edge. Given the global scale, the event was impossible to cover up, meaning our enemies might one day find a way to use that against us. I suspect contingencies will be implemented in the near future.

LOG TERMINATED

23: The Hunt

Obsidian gradually woke to the familiar hum of Amarok’s engines. Darkness surrounded him, save for the faintest sliver of light where his bed’s shutter met the bottom frame. The isolated feeling was a warm welcome, improved only by the sleeping pony pressing her weight down on his body underneath the blanket.

Searching for the time, Obsidian remembered he had placed his VMUI at the corner of the bed. His hoof moved slowly towards it, careful not to wake Glare. A gentle tap on his device activated the screen’s back-light. Reading the time quickly, he laid the device screen-down to block out the light. Silently yawning, he gave the unicorn a quick nuzzle and closed his eyes once more.

Obsidian’s ear twitched at the sound of knocking against the pressure door. He ignored it, as another set of knocks made themselves heard. After a third set, Glare stirred. “You going to get that?” she mumbled.

“Guess I’ll have to.” Obsidian placed his hooves around Glare, rolling the pair gently towards the wall. Releasing her, Obsidian rolled back towards the shutter, cracking it open slightly and looking around. With no one in sight, he opened it a little more and slithered out.

Opening the pressure doors as knocks were heard for a fourth time, the changeling found himself scowling once again at the same pony who delivered documents to him last time. Without any exchange of words, the changeling took the stack from the pony and retreated back into his quarters, throwing the folders onto the table without reading them. After another quick scan of his surroundings, he slipped back under his bed’s shutter and closed it.

“What was that all about?” Glare whispered, wary of the other crew in their beds.

Obsidian wormed his way back under the blanket. “Bunch of documents. Didn’t read them. Just saw our names on them.”

“New assignment, I guess?”

“Probably. We’ve gone a good two months without one now. Security detail is starting to get old.”

“Hmm.”

Silence fell. The changeling could sense something was nagging at Glare, and predicted an impending question. “What’s on your mind?”

“How did you—”

“Changeling.”

“Right. So”—Glare rolled onto her side, propping her head up with a hoof—“you’re able to manipulate emotions as well, right?”

“To an extent, yes. And before you ask, no, I’ve never done that to you.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you that. In fact, I was going to ask why you never did it to me after Enigma.”

“You mean why didn’t I drain you of the emotions you felt after we got back aboard Amarok?”

Glare nodded.

“Emotion manipulation is merely a delay tactic,” Obsidian explained. “As soon as the effects wear off, you’re back to where you started. Even if I had only partially removed those emotions to numb such feelings, you’d end up in the same situation when it happens again. No, you needed to sort yourself out with your faculties intact.”

“That’s a chilling thought. The prospect of having to take another life again, that is.”

“You persevered once. You can do it again. The key difference is that this time, you’re prepared.”

“I just—I just don’t want to reach a point where it desensitises me. As much as I’d hate to go through all of that again, I’m thinking it would be better I felt that way, than to not feel anything at all. That’s a part of me I don’t want to lose, because what then? I no longer care? I start enjoying it? That’s what scares me the most.”

“Glare, that’s not going to happen.”

“How do you know? How can you be so sure?”

Obsidian shrugged. “Guess I’ve just got a good feeling about you. Right, I should probably raid the galley before my duty starts.”

“Do you have to?” Glare whined. Stretching, she nudged herself closer to the changeling. “Sleep in a bit more. I can be your breakfast.”

“You know I’d never feed on—wait, was that innuendo?”

Glare looked at Obsidian with a sheepish grin. “Too much?”

“A little. Seriously though, I need to go.”

“Five more minutes?”

“Fine. You’re lucky you’re warm and soft.”

Glare giggled, wrapping her hooves around Obsidian, and the pair closed their eyes once more. Obsidian opened his shortly after, frowning. “There’s still something on your mind.”

“Nothing gets by you, huh? Actually, the other thing on my mind is what’s on your mind. I don’t have to be a changeling to figure out there was always something eating away at you, and I'm guessing it probably has something to do with Equestria, or your past. Maybe both. Either way, I'm concerned for you.”

Obsidian sighed. “Fine. I owe you at least that much, don’t I? Do you remember what I said about ‘lings forming a temporary connection when we share energy? And what happens when the recipient is dying?”

“Yeah?”

“Well there’s more to it. The effect on the donor’s psychological well-being can be devastating, even for just one such connection. Some ‘lings take it pretty bad. Most, actually. You know, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been asked why I hate Equestria so much, and most times I’d just keep my mouth shut. They wouldn’t understand. Words cannot express … what you go through.”

“Try, anyway.”

“I don’t know. It’s like … maybe it’s like a surgeon losing that first patient, or watching someone slip from your hooves over a cliff. Except it's on a completely different level. More intense. Vivid. Persistent. Even that doesn’t come close to describing the connection and it’s effects.”

“How many times have you done this?”

“A terminal connection? Exactly one hundred and four times. One of the rare few who could handle more than one or two.”

Glare frowned. She knew the experience must have been awful, yet as much as she tried to empathise, the unicorn could not. “Obsidian, I want you to make me understand.”

“I’ve tried to think of some way, but I don’t think I can.”

“You mentioned in the hospital that only the strongest emotions could be coherent. I assume that’s what happened with my father?”

The changeling’s eyes grew wide, and he almost scrambled away. “Whoah. Glare, no. I know where you’re going with this. No. No, that’s not going to happen. What I showed your father was one thing, but this is something else entirely.”

“You don’t have to suffer alone.”

“No.”

“Obsidian—”

“Not happening. Drop it.”

“Will you stop being so … so damn aloof all the time?” Glare hissed. “If we’re going to make us work, you need to let me in. No more secrets, remember?”

“I’m not—I—I need to go. I’ll see you later.” Wasting no time, the changeling slid under the shutter, donning his pressure suit and departing in a hurry.

“Obsidian!” Glare called out in a whisper. After the pressure doors closed, Glare hammered a hoof on the pillow. Grumbling, she rolled onto her back and pulled the blanket over herself.

Tossing about over the next few minutes, Glare sighed. Opening the shutter, the unicorn checked her surroundings and levitated the documents on the table toward her. Turning the reading light on, she opened the folder with her name on it.

Good day to you, Infiltrator. Your upcoming assignment is as follows:

In recent months, Infiltrators aboard the stealth destroyer Basilisk have been tasked with capturing key figures in the ranks of the Turanic Raiders for interrogation. Several of their officers, including fleet commanders, have revealed most if not all emerging technology fielded by the Raiders, past or present, is being developed in a single research facility. The subjects claim they are unaware of its location, however they did point us in the direction of one place that may have answers.

Silicon Oasis: An old civilian installation converted into a Raider recreational base. According to each subject, the base is a popular point for off-duty crew to moor their ships and stay for weeks or months at a time. It is also the ideal place for networking, or circulating news, with key figures regularly visiting the installation. As such, infiltrating this base will be vital to gathering intel.

Amarok will approach, find a suitable point of ingress, and retreat to a safe distance. Due to possible advancements in Raider sensors, Amarok’s prolonged presence in the vicinity may cause detection. As such, no immediate support will be available within the installation.

Your orders are to gather intel on the whereabouts of both the research base, and on potential high-value targets. To assist, several documents have been provided as infiltration aids, if Raider interaction is necessary. Additional objectives may be set by either Lieutenant Commander Shadow, or through Amarok as required.

Document 2A outlines details for a stolen goods trader cover. An insignificant magical artefact will be provided as a sample product to support this story, with document 3A included as an instructional guide on the item’s usage. 2B and 2C contain information on slave trader or recruitment covers. In either scenario, you will act as the participant.

Lieutenant Sparky will be issued custom-made armour to appear more Raider-like, while Chief Obsidian shall use his abilities to achieve the same results. Specialists Swift and Shift will remain on standby, acting as directed by Lieutenant Commander Shadow. All three are advised against following the other Infiltrators unless necessary, to ensure a low profile.

In addition to the aforementioned documents, several others have been included for planning and preparation. Document 1A outlines all relevant information pertaining to the installation. Due to the nature of this mission, document 4A details the significant amount of equipment to be provided for use in the event the squad is compromised.

“Sorry I’m late,” Quasar announced his presence as he entered. “Ensign Sierra had me reviewing a larger than expected maintenance log.” Moving to the head of the briefing room, his second in command stepped out of the way and allowed the Captain to proceed as he addressed the Infiltrators. “You’re probably wondering why I’ve joined you all for this particular briefing. Commander? What have you told them so far?”

“Nothing yet, sir. You weren’t that late.”

“Right, then.” Quasar faced the Infiltrators seated around him. “You’ve had a read through your briefing packages already, but this is going to be more of a conference, or debate, than an actual briefing. Suffice it to say, we have little information to go off, which admittedly, is a recurring theme for us. However, we haven’t finalised a plan yet, and figured we’d get your input. Commander?”

Eclipse stepped forward. “So, first thing’s first. The data on the exterior of the base is limited, but we know it is littered with static defences, both on the surface of the base, and on hundreds of missile platforms around it. Before we can even start to think about the objectives, we need to find a way to get to that base.”

“Given we are having this discussion, I assume the usual method is out of the question?” Obsidian asked.

“Unfortunately after our last mission, a lot of things have been called into question, including the effectiveness of our cloak generators,” Quasar explained. “We know the base is old. What we don’t know is if it has been outfitted with the same sensors that detected us. Fleet Intelligence has advised us to go no nearer than five klicks to any capital ship, with a recommendation of at least ten, so, we’re open to suggestions.”

Shift spoke first. “How about we allow ourselves to be captured somewhere nearby?”

“Too great a risk,” Shadow replied, before Quasar or Eclipse could open their mouths. “We’d have no guarantee of surviving, plus we’d likely be stripped of our equipment. Besides, we might not even be taken to the base at all.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Eclipse agreed. “I had thought perhaps our Deckhoof might be able to perform a series of teleportations while the rest of the team floats through space, but the issue with that is visibility. Flashes like that would draw too much attention.”

“Why don’t we just float all the way then?” Swift proposed. “You bring us in as close as possible, and we coast along for a bit.”

Quasar sighed. “Yeah, that’s the best we’ve been able to come up with as well. It’s time-consuming, but at least it’s discreet. We’d need to stock you all up with sufficient oxygen though. Unfortunately, we can’t map out the base without risking detection, and I’d never ask you to teleport blindly, in case you get stuck in a floor or wall. This means you’ll have to perform some recon once you’re on the external surface, to find a safe point of ingress.”

“Do you have some cameras to spare?” Glare enquired. “If I can pick up a data transmission from one that I teleport inside, I should be able to figure out how to bring everypony else in, too.”

“That’s … brilliant. Why haven’t we thought of that?” Pulling a notepad out from his pocket, Eclipse quickly scribbled something onto a new page.

Obsidian cleared his throat. “This is all well and good, but I’m a little concerned about the time factor. Say we leave Amarok five klicks from the base. Now suppose it takes us … fifteen minutes to float there. That’s fifteen minutes we’re just sitting ducks. And at those speeds, how do we safely decelerate?”

Eclipse turned to the changeling. “Do you have a better idea, Chief? We considered the possibility of re-purposing one of our torpedoes to get you close to the base, but even if you arrive cloaked, there’s only ninety seconds worth of it. Once it becomes visible, you’ll likely be hunted down or captured. If Raiders find ordnance just floating about, Amarok will likely be next.”

Shadow raised her voice. “Funny you should mention hunting and capturing, actually.”

“You have a suggestion, Commander?”

The zebra hummed. “Perhaps. Who can approach the station?”

Eclipse blinked. “Uhh, Raiders?”

“Exactly. So you find a lone ship, we capture it, and my team can use that to get aboard the station.”

“You’re suggesting we grab one of their Daggers and get you six to dock at the base?”

Quasar cut in. “No, frigs would be too conspicuous. I like the idea, but you’d need something smaller. A Thief would work perfectly. They’ve got the space for six, and they’ve got equipment to cut through a hull if they can’t go in through the front door.”

“Wait, we can’t do that. Amarok’s a destroyer,” Eclipse argued. “We don’t have the agility to keep up with ‘vettes that might make multiple course corrections. One minor deviation from the Thief while the infiltration tunnel is active, and we’ll be sending all of you through space.”

Glare raised a hoof. “What if I just teleported everypony over? I’m familiar with the internals of Raider ships, so getting stuck won’t be an issue. If you’re cloaked, we get close, and it’s just one simple spell. Though perhaps we might need to limit it to one or two being teleported to the ship.”

“That still doesn’t solve the problem of how a destroyer would intercept a corvette though,” Obsidian retorted.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Quasar replied. “As soon as we arrive in the system, we’ll comb through sensors, filtering out any contact that isn’t a Thief. We’ll monitor vectors and plot estimated courses. Ensign Sierra can then short-jump us along a target’s estimated track, while matching velocity as best we can and nudging ourselves as close as safely possible.” Turning to Glare, he added, “Then it will be all up to you, Deckhoof.”

“Send me in alone to subdue the crew,” Obsidian volunteered. “Wing blades would be safer than pulsars.”

Eclipse nodded. “Fair point. Can’t risk stray rounds damaging the ‘vette. Alright, this plan seems doable. We might refine the steps a little, but I think we can work with this. Now, onto your objectives once you’ve made it aboard the installation …”

As the insertion beam faded away, Obsidian and Glare found themselves floating alone outside Amarok. Lighting her horn up, Glare searched for the invisible destroyer, until she felt Amarok’s presence. Pulling herself and Obsidian towards it, Amarok became visible when the pair was less than half a metre from it’s camouflaged surface.

With no time to react, the pair hit the hull flat against their bellies, winding them. Securing their front mag boots, they lied prone and raised their heads. Immediately, Amarok disappeared from view. Looking over at Obsidian, Glare yelped and almost jumped off into the void when she saw the changeling’s disembodied head looking back at her.

“This is a little creepy,” Obsidian commented. Lowering his head, everything came into view again.

Glare mimicked the action. “I’ll say. I almost leapt out of my suit when I saw you!”

Obsidian opened his comms. “Eclipse, we’re in position.”

“Understood, Chief,” Eclipse replied. “Stand by.”

While the two waited, their eyes travelled up. Pinpricks of stars were strewn across a blackened void, twinkling with various colours and intensities. Partially hidden over the destroyer’s forward hull were denser clouds of stars, in the direction of Balcora. At the opposite end, a section of space appeared devoid of light, where the two assumed a nearby asteroid belt lied.

Before they could take in more of their surroundings, Eclipse’s voice returned. “Alright Deckhoof, Amarok is in position below the Thief’s estimated course. The ‘vette’s vertical blind spot is below negative three-zero degrees. As soon as you’re in the blind spot, we will perform a four-second roll, rotating two-eight degrees until you’re aligned with the Thief’s course. Remember, this will be a negative three G manoeuvre for you and the Chief, so ensure your mags are properly secured. Time until manoeuvre: Two minutes.”

“Understood,” Glare replied, terminating communications. “Hey, Obsidian?”

“Yeah?”

“I know this is probably not the right time, but I just wanted to apologise.”

“What for?”

“About our argument before. I was selfish for prying—”

“You weren’t being selfish, and you don’t need to apologise. Don’t worry about it.” Sitting upright, Obsidian quickly changed the topic. “You know what? If it weren’t for the fact that we need our pressure suits out here, this would be a perfect spot for a picnic.”

Glare followed suit, trying not to focus on the top half of a floating changeling. “I never would have figured you’d be one for picnics.”

“I don’t care much for them. You know me. I prefer small, enclosed spaces, rather than a park or something. That said, I think I’ll make an exception, given our location.”

Glare moved up beside the changeling. “I’d probably prefer it at Balcora, though,” she said, leaning towards Obsidian and covering up her helmet camera for good measure.

Obsidian placed a wing around Glare after covering up his own camera. “See, that’s a little too much. Too bright for my liking. However, this”—he gestured above—“is perfect. If I knew how to teleport, I’d probably stick a few tubes of food paste in my helmet, take an hour of oxygen, and sit out here while off-duty.”

“Only problem is, how do you sit comfortably when your hind mags are engaged?”

Obsidian shrugged. “How about a tether? Your body will be relaxed in any position if you’re weightless, so sitting is pointless.”

Eclipse’s voice returned. “Chief, Deckhoof, the Thief is less than a minute away. You two ready?”

“We’re as ready as we’ll be, Commander,” Glare confirmed.

“Uhh, are you two alright out there?” Eclipse added. “We can’t see anything from your helmet feeds.”

“Yeah, we’re fine. I just wanted to see how quickly you guys reacted to that,” Obsidian lied, as he and Glare uncovered their cameras. The pair engaged the rest of their mag boots and positioned themselves securely against Amarok.

“Not the best time to be running experiments, Chief,” Eclipse lectured, before proceeding with the final countdown for Amarok’s manoeuvre. “Rolling in three … two … one …”

Obsidian and Glare felt a powerful force attempt to pull the two away from the hull, as Amarok started to spin. Though their mag boots held firmly, a definite strain was felt on their hooves, as if something attempted to stretch them vertically. As quickly as the force made itself known, Amarok stabilised itself, and weightlessness returned. Looking around, most of the stars towards the galactic centre were now in sight, though neither had time to enjoy the view.

“I see the corvette,” Glare announced. As the vessel approached, she started to make out its features, beyond the mottled black and yellow livery that gave each Raider craft their distinctive appearance. Underneath the cockpit was a stubby, tapered cylinder with a pair of hatches on its front face. Mounted to either side behind and slightly above were mass-driver turrets, raised just enough away from the hull to allow coverage past the bulging block that made up the rear half, sporting four engines.

Steadying her breathing, she focused. Lighting up her horn, she looked towards Obsidian. Receiving a nod, the changeling disappeared in a flash. As the corvette passed overhead, Glare saw a faint flash shining out of the cockpit. A few seconds later, the vessel started veering wildly in multiple directions and at one point entering a spin. After half a minute, the corvette finally stabilised.

After an uneasy silence, Obsidian’s voice came through. “Amarok, the Thief is secured. Will keep the ‘vette on course, as I don’t trust myself with piloting this thing.”

“Understood Chief. Already on an intercept course. Will extract you via the insertion beam,” Eclipse replied. After a moment, he added, “Are you able to adjust heading slightly by zero-zero-seven, zero-two, at least?”

Deciding to join up with the changeling, Glare teleported into the corvette’s cabin. She immediately regretted the decision, sighting eleven bodies piled around the back of the cramped interior, with yellow sprays and spatterings of blood decorating the walls, and sizeable globs coalescing in mid-air. The unicorn fought valiantly to ensure her last meal remained where it had been, out of fear she’d drown in her own helmet.

Looking back and finding the nauseated unicorn, Obsidian moved away from the controls. “Ahh, right, I was going to suggest you teleport directly back into Amarok to avoid seeing this.” Flicking some blood off a wing, he moved around Glare, rotating her to face forward. “There. Out of sight, out of mind.”

“Heh, sounds like something Swift and Shift would say.”

Obsidian pulled an almost disgusted expression. “Well, I certainly wasn’t going for that.”

“Chief? You still with us?” Eclipse asked. “You able to comply with the heading adjustment?”

“Oh, right,” Obsidian flapped his wings a few times towards the controls, while replying, “Yes, still here. Adjusting heading … and done. I think.”

“Looks good from our end,” Eclipse replied. “Thanks. And good work.”

Obsidian gave Glare a sidelong glance. “Wow, did I just get a compliment?”

“I think they’re warming up to you.”

“Now let’s not go overboard.”

“Technically, we already have.”

“… That was a horrible joke, and you should feel horrible, Glare.”

Disengaging from Amarok after its crew scrubbed the corvette clean and loaded it up with their equipment, Shadow headed away from Amarok. Setting course for the Raider station, she took the long way around, heading through the dense and fragmented asteroid cluster.

Having had the time to familiarise herself with the ship’s systems, the zebra used the corvette’s original transponder codes and received clearance to dock from an automated communication system. After receiving the appropriate vectors, she allowed the vessel to coast along at a reasonable speed.

At the weapon’s station, Obsidian noticed a contact on the ship’s sensors, approaching on an intercept course. “Shadow. Two o’clock high.”

“I see it.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Keep our turrets ready, but don’t track the target.”

Levelling off to their starboard was another Thief. Shadow watched as the corvette flew alongside. After a few seconds, it accelerated hard, pulling ahead momentarily, before slowing back to maintain a broad formation. It repeated the action once again, shooting past, then decelerating.

Swift craned his neck, watching the other vessel. “I think we’re being challenged to a race. Do that thing they just did.”

“Swift, now is not the time,” Shadow lectured.

“If you want to blend in, I think this would be the perfect time,” Swift countered.

Obsidian could not help but agree. “He’s right for once. When in Canterlot, do as the ponies do.”

“I have a feeling I’m going to regret this.” Shaking her head, Shadow took the controls, mimicking the other ship’s actions. Almost instantly, the other corvette was off at full burn.

Shadow followed, pinning everyone to their seats as she pursued the Raider. Catching up from a couple of hundred metres away, the zebra observed the corvette, chasing as it lightly grazed an asteroid and turned to follow the trail of rocks. As she closed the distance, the corvette performed a sharp turn and pitched up, burning radially out for a moment to match its track to its next heading.

Swinging wide, Shadow narrowly avoided an asteroid. Losing ground, she accelerated once more, while her passengers were on the verge of passing out. As the asteroid field started to clear up, the two corvettes rejoined. Looking out once more at the ship now off her port, Shadow watched it waggle, banking clockwise and anti-clockwise in short, quick movements.

Waggling too, Shadow relaxed a bit. “I think we’re done he—HEY!” she yelled, as the Raider rammed sideways into her ship, towards another asteroid nearby. The two armoured engine nozzles on the right side of the ship caught against the rim of a crater, causing the corvette to spin wildly. Fighting with the controls, Shadow halted the spinning and cut the engines.

“Are they mad?” Glare yelled. “They just tried to kill us! And as far as they’re concerned, we’re one of them!”

Inspecting her instruments and readouts for signs of damage, Shadow was surprised to see nothing significant was affected. “At least these ships are sturdy. Let’s just get to the station.”

“Preferably before we destroy our only guaranteed ride out of there,” Glare added, watching as Shadow adjusted the corvette’s heading back towards their destination.

Comprised of multiple structures akin to scaled-up skyscrapers, the station was brimming with activity, emitting lights from multiple levels at the many view-ports distributed across all sides. Small tunnel-like assemblies snaked away from each structure in bundles, splitting off and taking detours around the entire station to form a complex, interconnected highway which elongated pods travelled along.

A ring of berths and hangars surrounded the station, from simple telescopic bridge connections, to small hangars and larger tub-shaped housings for capital ships. A fly-by of the station suggested the number of ships docked were likely in the hundreds.

As Shadow made her final approach and followed the guidance system of the station, the others readied themselves. Sparky donned his armour, ensuring no part of his body could be seen underneath the overlapping plates. Obsidian went bipedal and tried different styles of Raider appearances in front of the twins, while the pegasi provided commentary and criticism on each illusion.

“Eh, too plain.”

“Too flashy.”

“Red and black? Seriously?”

“Ugh, fine. You know what? Just go for it. Who knows, maybe you’ll blend in with that edgy look. You’ve already got a suitable name to go with it.”

“You think I’m stupid enough to use my real name with a disguise? And what’s wrong with a scar on the armour?” Obsidian argued.

Swift pointed to the illusion’s chest. “Mate, just look at it. You’re gonna put a large, diagonal cut on the chest plate? Come on! What, you’re going to put one of those knife fight scars over one of your eyes as well?”

“Shut up, I’m sticking to this. And you of all ponies shouldn’t be talking about scars.”

“Hey, I earned this scar! Besides, nopony thinks scars on hooves are edgy, so—”

“I swear, if I hear you use that word one more time, I will smack you upside the head,” Obsidian threatened with a backhoof gesture.

“What word? Edg—Oi!” Swift yelled, rubbing the back of his head after Obsidian’s wing whipped across it. “The buck?”

“Yes. That word.”

As the pair argued, Shadow brought the corvette to its final position. As she approached, the occupants started to feel the installation’s artificial gravity take its effect. Eventually, the ship landed on one of the station’s docking pads with a light jolt. While the six waited for an extension bridge to attach to the main hatch on the port side of the vessel, Shadow moved to the ship’s mid-section. “This is it. How are you feeling, Glare?”

“If I said I was nervous, it would be an understatement. I really don’t like the idea of playing either a recruit, or a slave.”

“Yeah, about that,” Obsidian started, “Shadow, I suggest we deviate from the plan a bit. Let Sparky and I go in first to carry out some observations before we bring Glare out. Two ‘Raiders’ wandering around aimlessly would gather too much attention with Glare.”

The zebra nodded. “Fair point. Just keep your comms open.”

“That’s the plan. If something goes wrong … listen for the words ‘Titty Sprinkle’.”

“PfffHAHAHAHAHA, what?” Swift roared with laughter, while his brother fell on his back and kicked his hooves in the air.

Glare rolled her eyes. “Don’t ask.”

“Alright, focus,” Shadow raised her voice. “Obsidian, Sparky, good luck. The rest of you, with me to the aft section. I don’t want Raiders passing by and finding us in one of their ships.”

Obsidian waited until the other four were out of sight, then took hold of the large manual lever protruding from the centre of the main hatch. Rotating it up and aft, the door moved partially inward and upward, before swinging out with a mechanism that kept it parallel to the corvette’s hull.

Stepping out onto the drab grey bridge, Sparky closed the hatch behind him and followed Obsidian toward a small airlock at the opposite end. Equalising pressure with the rest of the station, the airlock granted access for the changeling and diamond dog.

24: Silicon Oasis

Obsidian and Sparky stepped out of the airlock, and looked both ways. A long, narrow corridor extended a considerable length in each direction, with several airlocks spaced at regular intervals for other docked ships. Built into the wall at one end was a larger airlock, for what Obsidian assumed was for proportionally larger vessels. At the opposite end, the corridor connected with the main structure of the station’s ring.

Setting off towards the ring, the pair tensed up as a Raider approached. Leaden boots on metal floors echoed everywhere, as the being entombed in armour passed by. Looking behind him, the changeling made sure he was well out of earshot, before checking his comms. “Shadow, comm check.”

“Reading five over five. You?”

“Same. We’ve headed right of the bridge. Moving towards the main structure of the base now. Probably stating the obvious here, but this corridor seems to be a connection point for various airlocks, and the ships attached to them. Nothing else worth mentioning so far.”

“Noted. You’ll probably want to take a right after reaching the main ring structure, if you’re taking those connecting tubes further into the station.”

“Will do. I’ll keep you updated.” Sighting another Raider, Obsidian quickly added, “Raider approaching, going silent.”

Walking side-by-side, Obsidian and Sparky moved wordlessly past another Raider with lighter armour. Focusing on the end of the long tunnel, the pair avoided eye contact. Arriving at the end, they rounded the corner, entering the main body of the ring.

Almost as wide as Amarok, the dark, rusty interior took on a utilitarian appearance, with only bare basics in sight. Ageing pipes leaked at random flanges, dripping intermittently, or releasing gases with soft hisses. Eroded conduits ran parallel with the pipes, connecting at open junction boxes with exposed wiring. Large, wall-mounted vents were all missing at least a few bars from their gratings. For the diamond dog, the stench of mould threatened to overpower his olfactory senses.

As Obsidian and Sparky moved along, a flickering sign pointed to a transportation stop. Splitting off from the ring, the two entered a small station, where a single cylindrical carriage was embarking passengers. Obsidian counted at least twenty in the capsule that had neared capacity and figured it could still fit the pair. As soon as the doors closed, the changeling felt his ears pop, before leaving the station.

With no windows to track their progress with, the occupants merely secured themselves as artificial gravity was lost. Every so often, the vehicle shuddered as it moved along its tracks and made sharp turns. Though dubious as to the reliability of something with speakers dangling from ceilings by their wiring, Obsidian observed no unusual behaviour from the other occupants. Most remained silent, save for a trio conversing loudly at one corner with exaggerated hand gestures.

After several minutes, Obsidian and Sparky felt themselves slowing down, and the feeling of weightlessness started to disappear. When the doors finally opened, the two quickly stepped off, avoiding getting too close to any of the others. Exiting the station, they found themselves in a large plaza. While brighter and livelier than the ring section, their surroundings still took on a run-down, grimy feel, and the odour remained.

Exploring the multiple floors, Obsidian and Sparky found vast assortments of food outlets, bars, entertainment venues, and hotels. Found less frequently between these establishments were arms dealers, narcotics suppliers, and stores that seemed to showcase people as their products. Wherever possible, Obsidian described what he saw in great detail over his comms.

“An actual store?” Glare replied in disbelief. “You can just—just pop in, pick some victim off a shelf, and leave like you’re taking a trip down to a corner shop? Obsidian, we have to save them.”

“As much as I wish we could”—Obsidian muttered discretely into his comms—“there is no way we would be able to get away with that. Even if we could smuggle them bit by bit with the corvette, Amarok would not have the space for that many. Then there’s the security risk of lett—”

“You made your point, Obsidian. There has to be something we can do, though.”

“Assuming we make it out of here alive, the best we can do is to bring this information back to Amarok. They can pass everything on to the Galactic Council. I think. Fairly certain they’d handle things like this. Whatever the case, we need to worry about our original objectives first. Everyone around us is armed. I can’t even tell if there are any actual station security staff, or if it’s just a free-for-all here.”

Deciding to seat themselves at a bench, Obsidian and Sparky watched the passers-by. A thought crept into the changeling’s mind. He whispered, “Hey Shadow? Any idea what’s up with Raiders and wearing their full-body suits of armour everywhere? I’d say a little over half of them are wearing full sets for no apparent reason. That a social standing thing, or just their idea of looking intimidating?”

“Those would be the native Raiders,” Shadow replied. “The Raiders from Turan are an aquatic species that require a liquid membrane environment to survive. The armour is designed to replicate underwater conditions, while allowing them to leave the confines of water.”

“So the ones wearing partial or no armour are recruited Raiders?”

“That, or second generation Raiders born from slaves.”

“Does that mean a native can be taken out by a rupture to that membrane?”

“I believe they can survive a few hours without medical attention if they are fully drained, so as far as we’re concerned, no.”

Sparky tapped Obsidian on his side. Glancing at the diamond dog, he saw Sparky fixated on something, and looked in the same direction. Two figures left an equipment store, heading further through the station at a brisk pace. The pair stood out with their attire, each wearing pure white, hooded fabrics that covered their entire bodies, and black leather gloves and boots that minimised the visibility of exposed skin.

The most prominent feature on each was a full-face gas mask. The glossy black apparatuses consisted primarily of a few flat surfaces that matched the rough profile of the wearers’ faces, which were completely concealed by the opaque material. Like a skull, a small, dark opening was located where a nose should be. Emerging between the neck and cheeks were a set of large tubes that snaked down and disappeared into their clothing at waist level.

Sparky could tell the pair weren’t ordinary Raiders, and Obsidian shared his sentiments. The changeling looked back at the diamond dog. “What do you think? Shall we stalk them for a bit?”

Shadow’s voice returned. “What’s going on, Obsidian?”

“Just looking at two striking individuals. They look completely out of place here, but what’s interesting is how all the other Raiders part and make way for them. Will keep you updated.”

Making their way past other Raiders, Obsidian and Sparky tailed the white figures. After maintaining a reasonable distance, Obsidian noted a familiar symbol around the cuff of the gloves, as something silver occasionally flashed in the light while the pair walked.

“Shadow, if I describe a symbol to you, would you be able to figure out what it is?”

“That would depend on the symbol, but you can try.”

“There’s a square. No, might be a diamond. The middle of each side has a small triangle, or spike pointing outward. A circle surrounds the diamond, and a line at each quarter connects to one of the four corners of the diamond. It’s what I think it is, isn’t it?”

“The Gaalsien symbol?”

“I thought so. Right, we’ll keep tailing them. Might be high value targets.”

“Treat them as priority. Take our plans into account if possible. If you can get any information out of them, do so, but be careful.”

Keeping a reasonable distance from the Gaalsien, Obsidian and Sparky spent the better part of ten minutes moving through crowds of Raiders, keeping up with their targets. Eventually, the Infiltrators entered a small hotel, losing sight of the pair. Acting casual, Obsidian’s eyes shifted about, while Sparky sniffed around, eventually picking up a familiar scent.

Sneaking up a narrow flight of stairs, the two ended up one floor above, figuring out which room held the Gaalsien members. When Sparky determined the correct room, Obsidian quickly formulated a plan, briefing Sparky by referring to one of the briefing package documents from earlier on. Standing at the relevant door, Sparky knocked, and the pair waited for an answer. A set of footsteps approached, before going silent.

Muffled by the door, a deep and breathy modulated voice asked, “Who are you?”

Obsidian took a moment. Adjusting himself to sound more Raider-like, he responded in a low, smooth voice, “Someone looking for revenge. I believe you can be of assistance with that.”

“There are plenty of contractors on this station for that,” the voice replied in a weary, dismissive tone. “Leave.”

Refusing to move, the changeling continued. “I doubt most of those contractors hate the pony allies of Hiigara as much as your people do. Nor would they benefit from my proposal as much as you.”

Silence followed. After a lengthy wait, several locks opened, and the door swung inward, revealing one of the two white figures. Obsidian and Sparky followed him into a small living room. “Sit,” the Gaalsien ordered. Leaving the room, he called out behind him, “Khamari will be with you shortly.”

The pair dropped themselves onto a worn, two-seater couch, opposite to two other Gaalsien wearing the same attire. Their masks remained pointed in the direction of the two Infiltrators, staring—or at least, Obsidian assumed they were—at the pair. The changeling noticed the subtle movement of their hands, concealed in their garments, suspecting the two were armed.

The one named Khamari entered the room soon after, escorted by the first Gaalsien. “Few have the nerve to visit me unannounced,” he began. “Even fewer are worth my time. My associate has told me you have a proposition for us. Revenge, is it? Why would a common soldier of Turan go out of his way to ask something of the Gaalsien?”

“Those ponies are responsible for the deaths of family and friends. I want them eliminated.”

Khamari bowed his head. “Retribution. A better motivation than the common rabble who are in it for wealth. Tell me, why should I entertain you of all soldiers? You are not the only one who has suffered loss.”

“True. However, I am not from Turan. Nor am I a Raider,” Obsidian explained. Standing up, he dropped his disguise. The bright flash of green caused the two seated Gaalsien to jump, pulling small side-arms out from underneath their clothing. The third quickly moved in front of Khamari, also drawing his weapon.

“Did I just hear the sound of Obsidian losing his disguise?” Shadow asked in disbelief. Still seated, Sparky replied with a discreet ‘mmhm’, gaining brief attention from the nearest Gaalsien. Shadow sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Obsidian sat back down again, reverting to his original voice. “Khamari, was it? Relax, you are not in any danger. If I had wanted to kill you all, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Khamari moved up beside the others. “You’ll forgive my associates and I for not believing a pony.”

“Oh I’m no pony. Though I share the same planet and basic shape of one, I am far from those animals masquerading as righteous peacekeepers. They starved my kind and destroyed our society.” Pausing, Obsidian held up his hooves to fabricate an additional detail. “You see all of these? Take a guess how I got each hole. They think they’re safe with their illusion of power, but on this day, I will be the catalyst for their demise.”

“Obsidian, you might want to reel it in a little,” Shadow’s voice advised through the changeling’s earpiece. “Borderline monologuing there.”

Khamari hummed, folding his arms. “A wonderful speech. Now how is it you plan to take them down, and where would the Gaalsien and our Raiders fit in with that plan?”

Obsidian turned to Sparky and nodded. The diamond dog produced a small metal box. Opening it, he presented Khamari with an elongated, multi-coloured crystal.

“What if you could have the power output of a frigate’s reactor in something that can fit into your hand?” Obsidian began. “That there is a common crystal grown by the ponies. Its energy density is closer to antimatter reactions than anything else.”

Examining the object and holding it up to the light, Khamari looked back towards Obsidian. “How does it work?”

Obsidian shrugged. “I wish I knew. Like Hiigaran technology, the Equestrian Navy uses it, without fully understanding it. These function like single-use batteries, but beyond that, I’m not sure. I don’t think the ponies know, either.”

“Single-use doesn’t seem too promising,” Khamari pointed out.

“I can think of several uses. Remove those arrays from your frigates and power the ion cannon with a supply of these crystals. Without that weight, you’d have better acceleration, and the ability to turn without over-stressing any arrays. Or just add extra armour, I don’t know. You want other uses? Pre-charged hyperspace drives to get you jumping behind targets like the ancient cores. Relentless EMP blasts to take down entire fleets while keeping their ships intact.”

Khamari sat opposite to the changeling. “If what you say is true, this would weigh heavily in our favour.” Placing the crystal on the table, he slid it across to Obsidian.

The changeling held up a hoof. “Keep the crystal. One of the terms I will set is that you need to learn more about it. Consider this a product sample. Besides, there are plenty of these grown in Equestria, and I can bring you more.”

“When?”

“The crystals typically take about two months on my planet to mature. One year on my planet is about point seven-three standard years, so two months would be … roughly six standard weeks. I can meet you back here with as many crystals as my associate and I can carry.”

“I assume you’d like to name your price. If we can put this first crystal to good use, how would you like to be paid for additional shipments?”

Obsidian wore a malicious grin. “Consider the first batch a loan. I’m in this for the long run, so payment would be your services. Tear down the Equestrian Navy and pierce their hyperspace inhibitor network. Wipe my planet clear of ponies to make way for my kind to rule. I’ll consider your services paid in full once I have my revenge, and you’ll have the bonus of weakening Hiigara by taking out their most powerful ally, while gaining one of your own.”

“We would need a steady supply of crystals to retrofit our ships. How would we grow more?”

“You don’t. Though I’m still in the process of obtaining information on how to grow them myself, that’s just bad business to give away secrets like that. You want more crystals? You’ll have to buy them from us. At least, until you’ve proven to be trustworthy, or you’ve found a way to make the crystals reusable, whichever comes first.”

“What prices would we be looking at, then?”

“Eighty resource units per crystal. Non-negotiable.”

Khamari remained quiet for several seconds. “Per crystal? You do realise I could have a frigate built for ten crystals?”

“Two well-placed hits from an ion cannon would destroy a frigate,” Obsidian explained. “One beam after another, as fast as your crew can change crystals, and your target is down before they can react. Then four more frigates get taken down. All in the span of one minute. One against five, without a scratch. Starting to sound enticing?”

Khamari went silent once more. Obsidian remained still and stared at the blank mask, until the Gaalsien spoke up. “Very well. I accept your terms.”

“Good. Wait six weeks. Once you’re ready to meet, leak some false plans for an imminent Raider attack, referencing coordinates near my planet’s moon. I’ll be watching for reactions from the Equestrian Navy. As soon as I see them scrambling, I’ll meet you here within a week.” Nodding at Sparky, Obsidian rose and made for the exit, with the diamond dog in tow.

“Just one question before you leave,” Khamari called out. “If you’re from the same planet as the ponies, how did you make it onto this station?”

Obsidian turned back to Khamari. The changeling engulfed himself in green flame once again and returned to his disguised state. “I think that should answer your question. Good day.”

“Revealing yourself like that was a risk, Obsidian,” Shadow lectured over the comms, after Obsidian and Sparky found an empty corridor to talk in.

“I know.”

“You could have been shot on sight.”

“I doubt it. The eager and the trigger-happy are the inexperienced. Those Gaalsien were far from it,” Obsidian explained.

Swift spoke next. “Hey, weren’t you just saying earlier on how dumb it would be to use your real name in a disguise? Then you go and pull a stunt like this?”

“Which is why I used a different pattern of holes and markings upon myself,” the changeling clarified.

“Mate, you guys all look the same, no matter what combination of holes you’ve got on you.”

“Then I’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Shadow cut in, “Still, I’m glad you made it out of there without any issues. Are you able to track the crystal?”

“Easily. I’ve put enough emotional energy into that thing to attract hoards of ‘lings. If Khamari goes anywhere on this station, I’ll know. I’m just surprised they believed the crystal was some sort of fancy magical battery. I think crystals must be a popular science-fiction trope with them, or something.”

“That, or you’re a good actor,” Shadow suggested.

Obsidian hummed. “Did you notice what he said about the Raiders though?”

“Khamari? What do you mean?”

“When he asked ‘where would the Gaalsien and our Raiders fit in with that plan’. Our Raiders? You don’t think the Gaalsien are leading the Raiders, do you? I thought Raiders just integrated anyone and anything into their society.”

“It might explain why the Raiders have been acting so differently since the Harmony campaign.” Pausing, Shadow added, “Then again, it could also mean those Gaalsien have their own separate group of Raiders under their command. It’s hard to tell from just one word.”

“Perhaps you’re right. Alright, Sparky and I are going to split up and map out as much of the station as we can, then head back to the corvette in a few hours. The more data we can gather, the easier it will be for whoever will capture this place. In the meantime, if Khamari makes a move, I’ll sense it. I’ll keep you updated, Shadow.”

“Are you certain he’ll have the crystal with him?”

“Well it’s either going to be with him, or the other one always sticking close to him. Looks like his bodyguard. I doubt either would be far from the other, and neither would the crystal, if it’s as valuable as they think it is.”

“I hope so. Watch your backs. Shadow out.”

Sparky pulled the corvette door in, until it aligned with the frame. Taking hold of the door’s operating lever, he rotated it up and forward, locking the mechanism in place. The rest of the occupants emerged from the aft section and gathered around Obsidian as he spread out multiple bags around him.

“Oh sweet! Food!” Swift exclaimed, inhaling the aroma of fried goods.

Shift joined in, pulling out a small box from one of the bags. Opening it, he looked at the contents in confusion. “So uhh, any idea what this stuff is?”

Obsidian glanced at the bite-sized, golden-brown chunks. “That would be mine. Unless you feel like trying something similar to chicken nuggets,” he added, watching Shift quickly return the box. “Wait, where’s the second box?”

Behind the changeling, Swift’s eyes went wide, and he froze mid-chew. His face dropped, and he looked down at the small, half-eaten object in his hoof.

“Whatever. Glare, salad for you,” Obsidian distributed a pair of plastic bowls with assorted greens within. “Not sure what kind of plants those are, but it’s definitely a salad of some kind.”

“Thanks.” Glare levitated the bowls closer and opened one. Inspecting the contents, she could see whole green leaves with small red bumps, something purple and grated, and small, tomato-like fruits with watermelon-textured skin. Picking up one of the fruits, Glare turned it around, frowning at the oddity. “Are these are safe to eat?”

“I made sure to try everything first,” Obsidian replied. “Haven’t died yet.”

Giving the fruit a cautious chew, Glare’s face went through a range of expressions, from wary, to contemplative, before finally settling on agreement. “Not bad. A little bitter, but it’s alright.”

“Which begs the questio—” Shadow began, cutting herself off when the diamond dog pulled out a large burrito of meat wrapped in other types of meat. “What is that?”

“The sign at the vendor called it the Aortic Apocalypse,” Obsidian explained. “Solid fried meat core surrounded by grilled meat shavings, tightly wrapped in something like bacon strips. Not sure what the sauce is.”

Glare reeled in disgust. “Ugh, maybe it’s just me speaking as a pony, but that does not sound appetising in the least.”

Obsidian shrugged. “Seemed to be one of the most popular choices there. Looked like one of the cheapest options based on price per kilo.”

“Yes, about that,” Shadow continued. “How did you purchase all of this, Obsidian?”

“I didn’t. Sparky did.”

The zebra narrowed her eyes. “With what money?”

Obsidian grinned. “Well, it certainly wasn’t from that Raider’s wallet in the transport tube now, was it Sparky?”

The diamond dog whistled, putting on an innocent face.

Shadow sighed. “Dealing with most of you makes me glad I never had foals.”

Taking his food, Obsidian moved beside Shadow. “We've got a bit of time now. Let's go over the next stage of the plan …”

“Y’know, I thought a stakeout would’ve been a little more exciting than this,” Shift groaned, swivelling back and forth on the seat at the weapon’s station. “It’s been what? Four hours now?” Tilting his head in the direction of Obsidian reclining in a passenger seat, he added, “Lovebug over there still hasn’t picked up on anything.”

“Hey Shift, how do you feel about another entourage of large birds?” Obsidian responded, not bothering to open his eyes. “I hear they’re partial to a feast of prunes.”

“Buck you, Obsidian. You have any idea how long it took us to get that stuff out of our manes?”

Shadow cut in before the pair could escalate their argument, “What did you expect a stakeout to be, Shift? We wait, and observe discreetly.”

“Yeah, but I thought it would be like half an hour, tops.”

“Where’s that deck of cards I gave you?”

Shift shrugged. “Probably in ashes somewhere in that crater we crashed in.”

Obsidian’s eyes opened. “Shadow. Khamari’s on the move.”

“Secure the cabin and ready your BPSes,” Shadow ordered, tightening her harness. “Where is he heading, Obsidian?”

“Not sure yet. I won’t be able to pinpoint his location though. I’m no sensor array on hooves, but if he’s leaving the station, we’ll know it.”

Shadow ran through her startup checklists. “Keep searching,” she called back. “The rest of you, once you’ve got everything secured, strap in. We may have to leave at a moment’s notice if Khamari boards a ship with a hyperdrive.”

Obsidian moved up towards the pilots’ seats and pointed at a section of the installation. “Shadow, do you remember what was behind that structure over here? Tubes, right? He’s definitely going somewhere.”

“Just let me know if you need me to re-position.”

“Not yet. If we’re going to do what I think we’re going to do, we might want to minimise our time loitering near the station.”

“We may have to risk it if it means reaching him in time.”

Obsidian continued monitoring the situation. The changeling’s head remained fixated on Khamari’s general location, tracking him as he moved through the installation’s transportation system. Waiting for confirmation, he eventually spoke up again. “He’s on the ring. Heading towards one of the Vindicators.”

Shadow looked at Obsidian. “Are you certain? There’s a lot of other ships docked around it.”

“Can’t be sure, no. Just a reasonable assumption based on his perceived status. He’d likely board one of them, instead of the surrounding Daggers. Give me another five minutes or so, and I should be able to determine which specific ship he’ll head towards.”

“We might not have to wait that long.” Pointing to one of the larger vessels, she added, “Looks like that Vindicator is powering up.”

“Hey Glare?” Obsidian raised his voice.

“Hmm?”

“How close do you need us to be for you to teleport us into that ship?”

“Assuming the layout is the same as the ones we’ve been in before … I’d say two hundred metres. I could probably push that to two hundred and fifty.”

“Get us in range,” Obsidian ordered the zebra. “Just fly past and look innocent until I call you back. Glare, you’re with me. You too, Sparky. Keep the Raider armour on.”

“What about us?” Shift spoke up. “If you’re doing what I assume is some dash and grab, we’re not letting you fellas have all the fun!”

“I’ll need you two waiting here for our return, with weapons at the ready.”

“Stuck with the boring stuff again,” Swift muttered.

“Decoupling … now,” Shadow announced, as their vessel jolted away from the station.

Remembering something, Obsidian lit up his horn. “Oh, you might need this, Glare.”

“Need wha—ahh,” Glare gasped, unprepared for a stream of energy from the changeling. “What was that for?”

“If you need to shield us, fire off a glyph.”

“Aren’t you worried I’ll burn you both again?”

Obsidian shrugged. “Better you than a pulsar round.”

“Right, right.”

The corvette continued along its heading in the general direction of their target, and made a final course correction to overfly the Vindicator. Monitoring the distance remaining, Shadow called back into the cabin, “We’re coming into range, Glare. Few more seconds.”

“I’m ready.”

“Now’s the time, Glare! Go!”

The unicorn released her spell, leaving three yellow flashes where she, Obsidian, and Sparky stood.

Emerging in a corridor aboard the Vindicator, the first thing Obsidian saw was the surprised expression of a lone Raider. Immediately, Obsidian extended his wings and went for the Raider’s neck. He barely managed to move forward, before something tugged his tail and kept him stationary.

The Raider reached for the pulsar by his side, freezing as Sparky appeared beside him. Swiping the rifle out of the Raider’s hands with a paw, the diamond dog snapped the weapon in two, before picking the hapless victim up by the face with his other paw, and tossing him into a nearby wall.

A door opened behind Sparky, and Glare stumbled out. “Alright, perhaps two hundred and fifty metres was an overestimation of my abilit—oh. You two okay?”

Obsidian nodded. “Thanks to Sparky. I think I’m stuck though.”

Looking at Obsidian’s tail, Glare could see where the end fused seamlessly into a support structure. “I’m so sorry. I’m definitely not trying that again.”

“Not the first time my tail got stuck in something,” Obsidian replied, flicking a wing blade at his tail. Free, he glanced at the small piece of his tail that protruded from the wall, before turning to the others. “Alright, we’re going to wait here for a few minutes and see where Khamari decides to go. In the meantime, we need to find a place to hide that body.”

Obsidian read the time off his VMUI. “Alright, I don’t think we should wait much longer. Last thing we want is to get trapped aboard in hyperspace. Sparky, you smell anything? Good. Let’s move.”

Obsidian squeezed out from a restroom, followed by Glare. Sparky emerged last, slipping his helmet back on and clicking it into place. After Obsidian recreated his Raider disguise, he set off with the others in tow.

Moving through a couple of decks, Obsidian remained on the lookout for security cameras, discretely signalling Glare and Sparky to hold position wherever needed. The disguised changeling continued until he found a safe position outside each camera’s field of vision, before signalling Glare to teleport herself and Sparky to his location.

While going by several compartments, Obsidian doubled back after passing an open storage compartment, sighting tall shelving filled with crates. Glare narrowly avoided bumping into the changeling, confused at the sudden stop. “Something wrong?”

“No, I just got an idea,” Obsidian remarked, as he approached a small flatbed trolley. Turning his head towards the nearest crate, he called Sparky over. “Hey, help me empty this crate. This looks like Glare’s size.”

Glare tilted her head. “Do I even want to know?”

“We’ll move faster if we can hide you in one of these,” Obsidian explained, while he and Sparky dumped multiple identical boxes of power tools out from the crate. After the pair lifted the open crate onto the trolley, he gestured for Glare to climb in.

“Seriously? Fine.” Approaching the crate, Glare lifted a screw from the ground and offered it to the changeling. “Stick this on the edge. I want to see what’s going on around me.”

Obsidian shrugged, watching Glare climb into the thick plastic container. “Sure.” Swinging the lid closed, he wedged the screw in place, adjusting it until it was impossible to notice the eyes within. Satisfied, he turned to the diamond dog. “Alright Sparky. She’s all yours.”

Taking hold of the handles, Sparky wheeled Glare out, following Obsidian. Selecting a longer route through the light cruiser, the three moved unimpeded, descending to the correct deck via a service elevator, before closing the final hundred metres to the command centre. As they got within sight, Obsidian identified two guards to either side of the command centre’s entrance.

With no other entrance apparent, Obsidian and Sparky approached, each coming to a stop in front of a guard. “Hey,” Obsidian started, using his Raider voice. He slapped the lid of the crate. “Either of you know who asked for the solar cannon?”

“The hell’s a solar cannon?” the nearest guard asked, moving towards the crate. He had not taken more than a couple of steps before Obsidian’s wing blades made short work of him. The second guard barely had time to react, with Sparky delivering a single jab to the side of his jaw, causing him to keel over. Obsidian moved towards the second guard, ensuring the Raider never regained consciousness.

Obsidian tapped the crate a couple of times. “Alright, Glare. It’s time.” After the unicorn climbed out, Obsidian turned to Sparky. “You ready?”

The diamond dog picked up one of the guards’ pulsar rifles. After checking for sufficient ammunition, he held it in his left paw, while his own pulsar remained in his right. Nodding, Sparky waited for the changeling to proceed.

Sighting a retinal scanner beside the door, Obsidian lifted one of the bodies, and held one of their eyes open long enough for the system to register. After a click, he dropped the body, as the adjacent slab of metal slid away, revealing a large, square room. Half-way to the centre of the room, a wide, square trench surrounded the middle, where a single seat was located.

Obsidian counted seven crew at or near various stations and consoles in the trench, half of whom wore Gaalsien attire, though the centre seat remained unoccupied. “All of you! Hands where I can see them!” he shouted, aiming his carbine at one of the crew. Sparky followed suit, pointing each weapon at different crew. After closing the door behind them, Glare too, aimed her carbine at another, while one of the outside guards’ rifles floated beside her.

None of the command crew uttered a word, complying with Obsidian’s order. Looking around, he could not differentiate between the Gaalsien crew. “Khamari! Step forward.”

The Gaalsien crew looked around at each other, before the furthest one walked towards the three. “I had a feeling this crystal nonsense might have been too good to be true,” he started, making his way up the few steps to Obsidian’s level.

“That’s close enough. On the ground,” Obsidian ordered, his pulsar aimed at the chest. “Hands behind your head.”

A brief pause followed, and the Gaalsien dropped slowly to his knees. Turning his head to one side, he laid prone, placing his hands behind his head. “I hope you’re not planning on commandeering this vessel.”

“Shut up. Glare, get—” Obsidian was cut off, when Sparky elbowed him. Looking up at the diamond dog, Sparky sniffed, and shook his head, before looking towards the other Gaalsien crew. Pointing his pulsar at the remaining crew, he raised his voice. “Where is the real Khamari?”

Another stepped forward. Without uttering a single word, he copied the other Gaalsien, and laid down on the ground beside the first one. Again, Sparky shook his head.

“I’ll give you one more chance, Khamari,” Obsidian shouted. “Either you step forward, or I start vaporising random limbs.”

“That will not be necessary,” another Gaalsien spoke up. Approaching, he came to a halt behind the pair on the ground.

Obsidian gave Sparky a sidelong glance. When the diamond dog nodded, he pointed his pulsar down, just in front of him. “Here. Move. You’re coming with us.”

“Careful now,” Khamari started. “I don’t know how you boarded my vessel, but I doubt my crew will take kindly to me being escorted off by you three.” Turning his head towards Glare, he added, “Especially you.”

“I don’t want to hear you say another word. Now, on the ground.”

Khamari did so. “How do you plan on—”

“I said, shut up,” Obsidian barked. Opening comms, he lowered his voice. “Shadow. Sixty seconds.”

“Understood, Obsidian,” Shadow replied through the changeling’s earpiece. “Check your VMUI for my position.”

“Glare, you got the details? Do it.”

In a flash, Glare, Obsidian, Sparky, and Khamari disappeared from the command centre in a flash. A small object remained behind, falling to the ground, while a thirty-second countdown ticked away on its face.

Flashing into existence near their original insertion point, the team looked around, finding the corridor empty. A few seconds later, alarms blared across the ship. Discarding his second firearm, Sparky patted Khamari down for any concealed weapons, then slung him over his shoulder, while keeping his other rifle aimed down one end of the vessel. Obsidian faced the opposite direction, while Glare’s eyes darted between her surroundings, and her VMUI indicating Shadow’s location.

“Thirty seconds,” the zebra announced, shortly before a massive rumble shook the Vindicator’s core, almost throwing everyone off-balance.

Sighting a distant Raider stumbling, Obsidian whispered, “Contacts. Three—make that four Raiders.” Scanning the area, he found no suitable cover, and additional Raiders approaching from the opposite end. “Glare, we may need that shield.”

“Are you—AAH, buck!” Glare screamed, as a pulsar round narrowly missed her. Wasting no time, the unicorn released an orb at the centre of the group, causing the bright, pulsating barrier to materialise.

Khamari groaned. Sparky tensed up. Obsidian gritted his teeth. Everyone except Glare felt the effects of the spell’s heat. Outside, the occasional pulsar blast turned into an ion hailstorm, as the Raiders attempted to break through.

Shadow updated the group. “Five seconds.”

Glare lit up her horn and finished the countdown. As the group disappeared, another small package remained behind. Back aboard the Thief, Swift and Shift pointed their carbines at the Gaalsien as Sparky secured him to one of the seats. He and the others proceeded to secure themselves to the other available seats.

Obsidian took the seat closest to Khamari, keeping his weapon pointed at the Gaalsien. Giving his harness one final tug, he shouted, “Shadow, we’re secured. Get us out of here!”

The zebra chuckled. “Who’s ordering who around here? Anyway, I won’t rush it. No one knows we did anything, and going full burn now that you’ve crippled that vessel will just draw attention to us,” she explained, adjusting her course to enter the asteroid cluster. “With any luck, we’ll be able to use the asteroids as cover until we return to Amarok.”

“Well, you fellas have definitely stirred up the nest,” Swift commented, watching the numerous symbols zip about on a sensors screen. “I see fighters and corvettes flying about like a bunch of pissed off yellowjackets. Too bad you three didn’t blow up a few ships while you were back there.”

“Shift, there are innocent lives there, too,” Glare interrupted. “The risk would be too great.”

“Then here’s hoping we come back, save some poor, defenceless civvies, and finish the job properly,” Shift mocked callously.

At the pilot’s seat, Shadow was busy setting the corvette’s comms. “Amarok, recon alpha inbound to position delta. ETA, fifteen minutes.”

“Copied, alpha, we have you on sensors. Be advised, you have seven Rock Rats on an intercept course.”

Shadow sighed. “Brilliant. Which of you is at the weapon’s station?” she called behind her.

“That’ll be me,” Swift answered.

“You wanted something fun? You got it. Wait for them to fire first, then take them down.”

“With pleasure, ma’am!”

As soon as the interceptors approached weapon’s range, they each altered course slightly. Rather than opening fire, they surrounded the corvette, with one flying above and below, and the rest surrounding the ship at five points horizontally.

“What are they up to?” Shift wondered. He turned to Khamari. “Hey, gas mask! What’s all this?”

“You’re a lone Thief-type vessel, heading away from the scene of sabotage, on a course out to nowhere,” Khamari explained. “You don’t think that would raise some questions? At best, they’d think you’re a deserter, fleeing from danger. At worst, they’d suspect you of capturing one of their own.”

“How would they know you’re still alive?”

“Because the command crew had thirty seconds to sound the alarm aboard the Vindicator,” Obsidian cut in.

“I’m confident they will contact you momentarily,” Khamari remarked, his voice showing no signs of concern.

As if on queue, Shadow picked up a voice on a general broadcast. “To the Thief currently surrounded, return to Silicon Oasis immediately, or you will be fired upon.”

Swift turned to Obsidian. “Doesn’t sound like they know he’s on board, if they’re threatening to shoot us down.”

“Or perhaps they are aware of my presence. If I’m captured for interrogation, there’s a risk I’d divulge important information,” Khamari reasoned. “Can’t have that now, can we?”

The voice returned. “I repeat, return to—”

…

“Odd,” Shadow remarked, pushing various buttons on the comms system. “Did our comms just die?”

“Hey, weren’t there seven interceptors around us?” Swift called out. “I’m only counting six. No, wait, now it’s five.”

Off the port side, Shadow caught a glimpse of two other interceptors stopping with such force, as if they had flown into an invisible wall. She barely had enough time to see how they collapsed upon themselves, crushed like cans, before passing them by. Another two on the other side met with the same fate, leaving one final interceptor directly ahead.

“Swift, take that ship out!” Shadow ordered.

A couple of low-pitched whirrs caused the vessel to vibrate, as the side-mounded turrets locked onto the interceptor. Tracking the target as it performed evasive manoeuvres, Swift held fire, waiting for a steady flight-path.

“I hope you have hearing protection,” Khamari commented, placing a hand over each ear.

“Why is th—AAAAH!” Shift yelled, over two booms that shook the corvette. He and every other occupant jumped, covering their ears too late. “Arrgh, Swift! The buck did you do?”

“What?” Swift yelled back over the ringing in his ears.

“What. The buck. Did you do?”

Khamari folded his arms, his modulated voice taking on an amused tone. “You’ve never been inside one of these vessels when they fire, I take it?”

“My first, and hopefully last time,” the pegasus replied loudly. “Swift, tell me you got the bloody mongrel at least.”

“Nah, but something’s spewing out from the belly of the ship. Must’ve hit him. Looks like he’s retreating, but I think I can take him out before he’s outta range.”

“No!” Glare cried out. “We’re not under attack anymore. That’s good enough. I don’t want to lose my hearing over one ship!”

“She’s right, Swift. Hold your fire,” Shadow ordered. Returning her attention to her course, she opened comms. “Amarok, I take it that was your doing?”

“Empty torpedoes, Commander,” a proud Quasar replied. “Lieutenant Sabre is a genius and an artist. We’re standing by at delta. We’ll have you off that ship before the next wave of Raiders gets to you.”

Cutting her engines, Shadow flipped the Thief in the opposite direction, before returning to full burn. As the occupants felt the strain of rapid deceleration, Shadow monitored her velocity, until it matched Amarok’s, easing up on the throttle, until the engines cut out smoothly. Blue light immediately flooded the cabin, as the insertion beam melted through the floor. Without hesitation, everyone rushed through, with Shadow pulling Khamari in with him.

Eclipse greeted the seven with a pair of armed guards. The unicorns flanking the officer levitated their rifles and aimed at Khamari. Moving to a nearby seat, the officer tapped on the hoofrest screen, and leaned in. “Captain, the Infiltrators have returned.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Quasar replied. A moment later, his voice returned across the entire ship. “This is the Captain. Hyperspace jump in thirty seconds.”

25: Interrogation

Khamari followed his escorts out of the medical compartment, having received the all-clear by his assigned medic. His captors pushed him along the deck, past the supply compartment, and into the brig. From a distance, Obsidian observed him. With the Gaalsien’s respirator, gloves, and boots confiscated, only his white thawb and bisht remained, revealing skin that took on a sickly, light shade of raw umber. The colour was not what the changeling focused on, however. Rather, it was the texture. Scarred, leathery, and without hair, it seemed as if the Gaalsien had once suffered severe burns to his entire body.

The changeling stood by the pressure doors, as one of the escorts exchanged words with a unicorn and pegasus guard. The latter nodded and made for the nearest ringed seat, tapping a few times on one screen. Four successive clicks echoed deeply across the deck soon after. The unicorn guard then proceeded toward the centre cell, lighting up his horn and pulling a pair of transparent outer cell doors open toward himself.

When the barred inner door opened, Khamari’s escorts nudged him forward. The Gaalsien continued alone and remained standing in his cell as the doors closed and locked. Satisfied, Obsidian and the escorts left the prisoner in the care of the guards, and exited the compartment.

After finishing their debriefing, Eclipse dismissed the Infiltrators. Still suffering from some pain and ringing in his ears, Obsidian reluctantly visited the infirmary for an examination.

“Yep, you’ve ruptured an eardrum,” the medic declared, while looking through an otoscope inside the changeling’s left ear. “Fortunately, it doesn’t look too bad. At least, as far as any other species I’ve worked with. Are you suffering from any dizziness or nausea?”

“No.”

Discarding the tool’s disposable end, the medic set it down on a nearby table. “Any whistling sounds when you sneeze or blow your nose?”

“Haven’t done either yet.”

“Well if you fall ill, see if you can avoid blowing your nose while it heals. Also, steer clear of the pool, and rigorous physical activity.”

“How long will I be out of commission?”

The medic started to fill out some paperwork. “I’ll start you out at six weeks. We’ll have another look then to see how much has healed. You’ll definitely have some permanent hearing loss, but hopefully it won’t be too bad. Probably about five to ten percent, but not more than that.”

“Great. We done here, then?”

The medic nodded. “See me straight away at any sign of ear drainage, or if you develop a fever.”

The next day, Obsidian received a message through his VMUI. Reading the contents, he returned to the briefing room. Stepping inside, he found Shadow and Glare seated at the table, with Eclipse standing in his usual spot. “You wanted to see me, Commander?”

“Yes, Chief, have a seat. How are you feeling?”

The changeling shrugged as he settled in beside Glare. “Could be worse. No ops for at least six weeks.”

“Fortunately for you, we’re sending you someplace where that won’t be an issue, along with the LC and Deckhoof,” Eclipse started. “While the other three will be tasked with escorting Khamari and overseeing his delivery to the Hiigaran Navy, you three will be taking a trip to Hiigara.”

Obsidian frowned. “What do the Hiigarans want with him? I thought this was our op.”

“It was, but Hiigara needs information about the Gaalsien as much as we do. Perhaps more. Besides, our attempts at interrogating Khamari have come up empty. The Hiigarans are … well, they’re more effective at extracting information from uncooperative subjects than we are.”

Obsidian snorted.

“Something funny, Chief?”

The changeling leaned back in his seat and folded his hooves. “Let’s just say Equestria isn’t exactly known for it’s amazing interrogation abilities. If you need a volunteer, I’m sure I can get something out of him.”

Eclipse stared silently at Obsidian for several seconds. “Chief, it’s not that I don’t trust you, but—”

“—but that’s usually what you say when you don’t want to admit you don’t trust someone,” Obsidian finished. “I promise Khamari will not have any injuries after I’m finished with him.”

Sighing, the Lieutenant Commander reluctantly agreed. “Fine, fine, he’s all yours. If you do manage to get anything out of him, come straight to me or the Captain.”

Obsidian nodded. “Will do. Now what do you need us to do in Hiigara?”

“The presence of the Infiltrators was requested by members of the New Daiamid, the ruling government in Hiigara’s capital city of Asaam Kiith’Sid.”

“Regarding Khamari?”

“Plus what you saw on Enigma,” Eclipse clarified. “I believe they also had some questions about the luxury liner from four or five months ago, since we’re convinced the Raiders were behind that. Apparently lone ships have been disappearing in Hiigaran territory for a while now, and there’s a strong chance those are also the work of Raiders.”

“Right, then I’ll see what I can do about Khamari. I take it there will be a briefing package at some point?”

“I’ve pretty much told you everything just now. You’ll get more information once you get to Hiigara.”

Returning to the brig, Obsidian approached the two guards, both of whom were at their seats. The pair appeared bored, watching the five monitors mounted to their respective seats, which displayed security feeds of the various cells around them. Though with only one occupied cell, the guards had little else to do.

Obsidian cleared his throat as he approached. The unicorn looked towards the newcomer before straightening up. “Oh, uhh, Chief. Wasn’t expecting you here again. I take it you’re here for the prisoner?”

“Eclipse sent me to assist with interrogation. Heard you guys were having some trouble.”

“Hope you have better luck,” the pegasus remarked. “He’s resting in his cell at the moment. Let me just open the outer doors.”

“Open the inner doors while you’re at it.”

“… Chief?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, if you say so.”

Obsidian approached with the unicorn. After the guards unlocked and opened the doors, the changeling proceeded in. Sitting on the floor with his back against the bed, Khamari opened his eyes and met the changeling's. “How’s your hearing?” Khamari spoke first, his voice raspy and laboured without his mask.

Obsidian sat on the floor opposite to Khamari, ensuring he was more than an arm’s length away. Remaining silent, he first took to analysing the prisoner.

Undaunted by the silent treatment, Khamari spoke again. “I take it your crystal is useless, then?”

“To you, yes. You’ve probably figured out by now that I tracked you through it though.”

“I had a suspicion. This isn’t a social call though, is it?”

“No. You know the location of a planet with a research base on it. I want to know where it is.”

“There are many planets with research ba—”

“Cut the crap, Khamari,” Obsidian barked. “You know what the buzz I’m talking about. Now I don’t know what soft tactics the others have used to pry information from you, but I can guarantee far worse. So here are your options: First, we can wait until you’re delivered to a Hiigaran facility for interrogation. From what I hear, they’re not above torturing prisoners.”

Khamari laughed. “I know of Hiigaran methods. Let them try.”

“Then that leaves option number two.” Lighting up his horn, Obsidian concentrated on Khamari. A thin stream of green energy emerged from his chest and streaked towards the changeling, gradually intensifying in brightness and size, until it was as large as Obsidian’s hoof.

Initially, Khamari seemed unimpressed. His expression slowly changed as an odd feeling spread throughout his body. “What are—what are you doing?” he gasped, reaching for the ethereal tether between the two. Unable to grasp the magical energy, his eyes widened as they were drawn to his hand, which slowly wrinkled and shrivelled, while the colour of his skin drained to grey.

Obsidian stopped, severing the connection. Observing Khamari, it appeared as if the prisoner had aged dramatically in a matter of seconds. A feeble old creature looked up at the changeling with empty eyes containing barely a trace of life within, yet Obsidian could still sense the fear behind them. “I will ask again. Where is the research base?”

Khamari wheezed and gasped, lacking the strength to form a coherent word. Obsidian’s horn lit up again, and green energy streaked out once more, this time in the opposite direction. Khamari steadily regained his original features over the next few seconds, and the changeling finished giving back what he had taken.

While Khamari inspected himself, Obsidian explained, “When a changeling becomes greedy and feeds past a certain point, the physical effects of the prey can be devastating, as symptoms of old age manifest. I can leave you suffering from those effects while on the brink of death, but the transition is always the worst part, isn’t it?”

“Burn in hell!”

Obsidian hummed. “Interesting. Most prisoners subjected to this method become more talkative after just one cycle. We’ll soon find out what your limit is, though.”

Obsidian looked down at the lanky being curled up into a ball. “Look at me. Look at me!” he growled. “You are nothing to me. I do not care about you. I will not offer an option or deal with a positive outcome for you. When I’m through with you, you will be disposed of. I want you to understand that reality.”

“You … are a … monster.”

The changeling hummed. “Perhaps. You will tell me what I need to know though. The method by which I will conclude our business depends on your cooperation.”

Khamari looked up at the changeling. Despite his physical state, he still managed to glare daggers at Obsidian. “What … do you want to know?”

Restoring Khamari to his former self once more, Obsidian knocked against the doors, before producing a small tablet from one of his pockets. As the outer doors opened, the changeling tossed the tablet onto the mattress. “I want the coordinates of that planet. If you can’t remember them, there’s a file in that thing with a galactic map. You will also outline the defences to be encountered, from the surface, to the solar system. Questions? Good. I’ll give you one hour.”

As he made for the exit, the unicorn raised his voice. “You know, Equestria has every right to fear you and your kind. Whatever you were doing to the prisoner should be considered a war crime.”

Obsidian stopped. Turning around, he approached the guard, who instinctively leaned away. “Do you have any loved ones? Parents? Siblings? A spouse, perhaps? What about foals? What would you do if their safety was threatened? Anything in your power, no?”

“Oh no, don’t you twist this around onto me. What you did was not right.”

“Was not—do you even hear yourself?” Obsidian sighed, turning around and heading away. “What is it with you ponies and your inability to differentiate things that are right from things that are necessary?”

While Obsidian waited for Khamari to finish, he sat at the edge of a table in the galley, sampling one of the day’s dishes. Picking up one of the neatly stacked rice paper rolls on his plate, he dipped one half into a small dish of sweet chilli and bit half of the white, translucent roll off.

Ignoring a few pieces of shredded lettuce that had fallen out, he inspected the multi-coloured contents of the remaining half as he chewed, identifying strips of carrot and cucumber, along with some mint and prawns. Dipping the second half of the roll in the sauce, he dropped it when Glare flashed into existence on the table, rage written all over her face.

“Briefing room. Now.”

“What’s wr—”

“I said now. I’ve got nothing else to say to you.”

The changeling looked around at the other crew, all of whom fell silent and had their eyes set upon himself and Glare. Without another word, he obeyed, leaving his tray behind and following the unicorn out.

As soon as he entered the briefing room, Eclipse shook his head. “Chief, what were you thinking? We saw that on the internal cameras.”

Obsidian blinked. “Can someone tell me what’s going on? What are you talking about? And why are you so angry, Glare?”

The unicorn was in disbelief. “You have no idea, do you? What you did to Khamari—”

“I said there wouldn’t be any harm once I finished—”

“Torture, Obsidian!” Glare shouted. “That was torture!”

Groaning, Obsidian placed a hoof on his face. “Oh, not you, too.”

“Chief, this is serious,” Eclipse interjected. “Now, I don’t know if whatever you did is considered acceptable amongst changelings, but here, that’s something we frown upon. It’s wrong. Plain and simple.”

“Fine, I’ll plead ignorance on that. Won’t happen again,” Obsidian replied, before pointing an accusatory hoof at Eclipse. “But don’t stand there and tell me what I did was wrong, when you just said we were going to transfer Khamari to the Hiigarans, who are not above torturing their own prisoners for information. You may not be directly involved with Khamari anymore, and you may think you’ve taken the moral high ground for not carrying out the act, but you’re indirectly facilitating torture by allowing him to be given to those who will.”

Glare gasped, as a memory of hers flashed in her mind.

You’re still facilitating the horrendous deaths of others!

If you’re going to use that logic, the taxes you pay are indirectly facilitating those deaths as well.

“He’s right.”

Eclipse looked at Glare with confusion. “Deckhoof?”

“I’m—I’m not agreeing with Obsidian’s actions, but his logic makes sense. If we just let the Hiigarans take Khamari into their custody, knowing how he will be treated, we’re no better than they are,” Glare explained.

“Worse,” Obsidian added. “You’d be the hypocrites. Cowards. Afraid to do the deed, yet content with outsourcing the dirty work. How’s that for Equestria’s righteousness?”

Eclipse sighed. “You’ve put me in a difficult position, Chief. What do you think I should do with you and Khamari?”

“You do what you have to do. If you feel I have wilfully disregarded an important rule of the Navy, act accordingly, but if you truly believe what I did was wrong, you’ll also do something about Khamari. If, however, you’re planning on leaving him to his fate, I’m going back to the galley.”

An uneasy silence followed, as Obsidian and Eclipse stared each other down. Glare’s eyes darted between the two, waiting for either to say something. Breaking the silence, Obsidian turned and made his way to the pressure doors. “That’s what I thought.”

“Chief, wait,” Eclipse called out, stopping Obsidian in his tracks. “As serious as this is, I’m going to overlook this, just this once. I understand where you’re coming from, but my hooves are tied on the Khamari matter. Just—just go. Deckhoof, please retrieve whatever information you can from the brig.”

Nodding, Glare turned and followed Obsidian out. As soon as the compartment’s outer doors closed, the changeling came to a halt. “Glare? Is everything alright with us?”

“Look, I’m sorry I yelled at you like that, but you’re just— … Yes, we’re fine. I hope you understand why I wasn’t able to support you.”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t at least a little disappointed, but I get it.” Shrugging, Obsidian added, “I thought my actions made sense.”

“Sometimes I wish you’d think less objectively,” Glare lectured. “Necessary or not, I’m sure at least some part of you knew that was not right. Look, I need to go. We’ll talk later.”

Turning away, Glare headed for the brig. Entering, she sighted the distant prisoner seated on his bed, and approached Khamari’s cell, only to be stopped by the two guards stationed nearby.

“What’s your business with the prisoner, Deckhoof?” the pegasus guard enquired.

“I take it you saw what Obs—the Chief did to him?”

“I did. It was barbaric.”

“Commander Eclipse saw it through the security feed as well. He doesn’t want the Chief going anywhere near Khamari now,” Glare explained. “I’m taking the Chief’s place.”

“Very well. I think he finished writing whatever the bug wanted him to write.”

Glare's eyes travelled to the pegasus' Deckhoof insignia. “Criticise the Chief's actions all you want, but I don't want to hear you call him a bug again. Now open the cell.”

Taken aback by the calm request, the pegasus nodded, and proceeded to open Khamari’s cell with his unicorm counterpart. After the guards gave the all-clear to Glare, she entered, well aware of the piercing stare given to her by Khamari.

“What is this now?” he began, as the doors closed. “You’re pretending to be someone else again?”

“What?” Glare looked at Khamari, confused. Realising what he meant, Glare shook her head. “Oh, no. No, the Chief is no longer allowed anywhere near you, after what we saw him do to you. I’m sorry you had to suffer through something like that.”

“I assume you’re here to retrieve the information your friend … persuaded me to give him? Here.” Leaning forward, Khamari slid the tablet toward the unicorn. “Just leave me alone.”

Levitating the tablet from the ground, Glare looked back into his eyes. “Actually, I have a few questions of my own. Don’t—don’t misunderstand me, this is not part of any interrogation. You’re free to answer or ignore me.”

Khamari stared silently at Glare for several seconds, before sighing. “Very well. Ask.”

Glare sat in front of Khamari. “I want to understand who you are. The Gaalsien have been mentioned frequently in Hiigaran history, but you’ve always been painted as … well, the bad guys. Zealots who teach others their ways by force. An evil supposedly vanquished on Kharak. My first question for you is simple. Is this true?”

Khamari was visibly surprised. “Now there’s a question I never expected my captors to ask. Why would you even believe anything I say that would contradict written history?”

“History is written by the victors. And from what I’ve read about Hiigaran history, they weren’t exactly the good guys themselves when they got into that war before their exile. I’d say they were the lesser of two evils, at best.”

“Perhaps not the most popular opinion in the galaxy, but not an uncommon one, either. To answer your question, however, no. From the Gaalsien perspective, this was mostly untrue.” Pausing, Khamari watched as the unicorn gave him her full attention. “I take it you’d like me to elaborate, yes? How much do you know about the exile itself?”

“Only that it was a sub-light convoy with hundreds of ships bound for no destination in particular. Generations searched for a suitable planet to call home, which they eventually found at the edge of the galaxy on Kharak. Oh, and part of the convoy split off and made their home in the Great Nebula.”

“Correct. However, you need to understand the scale of things. The old Hiigaran Empire consisted of hundreds of planets. Imagine how much of our population was lost, for our convoy to be just a few hundred ships. Then, with each generation that drifted through space, imperfect technology led to the loss of ships. Catastrophic malfunctions with little to no warning. My ancestors went to sleep each night, not knowing if they would ever wake again.”

Glare nodded occasionally as Khamari spoke. “How many survived the exile?”

“By the time the convoy discovered Kharak, five ships remained. Four burned up entering the atmosphere, and the fifth broke into three sections when it hit the ground. The survivors were counted in the thousands. Not even a billionth of a percentage of what the old Empire had been. Try to equate that with your own planet’s population.”

Glare looked down at the glossy floor for a moment.“I don’t even know if we have enough on our planet to make a whole number. So the Gaalsien were one of the lucky few to have survived the war and the exodus?”

“In a manner of speaking. You see, my ancestors knew the price we paid for that war, considering we were almost wiped from existence. Metaphorically speaking, we were, seeing as the Taiidan sought to remove all mention of us from history. Thus, an idea was suggested to protect our people through a powerful tool. Religion.”

“Your ancestors founded the Gaalsien religion as a way to prevent repeating mistakes of the past?” Glare asked, cocking her head to the side.

“You assume incorrectly that the Gaalsien came up with their own religion. We were more of a sect. The galaxy as a whole worshipped Sajuuk, and it was the single largest religion that spanned across empires.”

“Up until the Equestrian Navy defeated Sajuuk, I assume?”

“Some still worship Sajuuk, though that’s irrelevant here. Aboard the convoy, generations prior to landfall, it was agreed that for the protection of our people, a few changes to our religion would be made. Namely, the primary belief became that Sajuuk took us from celestial paradise to Kharak as punishment for our arrogance. Upon serving our sentence, He would lift us up into heaven. Any attempt to leave the confines of our planet would be a violation of His will, and His wrath would bring about the apocalypse. Thus, the Gaalsien were born.”

Glare hummed. “I see where this is going. This was your way of stopping the survivors from violating that Taiidan treaty forbidding hyperspace technology. Though why not just make a law about it? Creating a sect seems rather convoluted.”

“Laws can be changed. Through religion, it was possible to create a deeply-rooted belief, which would have been far more difficult to abolish or alter. Now tell me something. Do you believe anything I have said so far, or do you think every word was a lie?”

“It’s … plausible. If this was all true though, why were the Gaalsien such outcasts?”

“The origin of our bad blood with the other Kiithid is a long story.”

“I’ve got time. You do too. If—if you want to tell me, that is.”

Khamari bowed his head. “You’ve been civil to me so far. It’s the least I can do to repay you. After landfall, over five centuries passed, before another Kiith, the Siidim, claimed they were of divine origin, and only they would be accepted by Sajuuk. They considered all others to be native to Kharak, and therefore inferior. This claim turned to a conflict later known as the Heresy Wars. The number of bodies left in its wake was incalculable. Suffice it to say, were it not for the intervention of Kiith Nabaal, the Kushan would have wiped themselves off Kharak.”

“A bit of irony, I suppose. The beliefs intended to save your people almost led to your extinction. Much like the hyperspace core your people smuggled to Kharak, now that I think about it.”

“Yes, well, despite this, an uneasy peace was formed, and the Kushan recovered. The Siidim were allowed to keep their beliefs, and the Gaalsien remained a major religious power. The war took a toll on all Kushan, but the Gaalsien temple-city of Saju-Ka remained largely untouched. At the core of the city, elaborate underground tunnels and vaults contained many of our significant historical artefacts, including the origins of our beliefs. Are you familiar with a Kiith-Sa named Miirpat Gaalsien?”

“It rings a bell.” Glare tapped her chin while she tried to recall the obscure details. “He descended into madness and ordered his people to destroy barriers that kept the sand from swallowing up the city, right?”

“That’s the one. An incredibly devout individual, he was. After his rise to power, he was granted access to the historical archives, and the Gaalsien’s closest guarded secrets. His first order of business was to study everything he could, but the truth shattered his world. When he learned his life had been a lie, that he and those before him gave their bodies and souls for a fabrication by the original exiles, that was the turning point for Miirpat. In the wake of his madness, thousands died while attempting to flee Saju-Ka. Countless more perished in the desert without protection or provisions.”

“I imagine the rest of the Gaalsien had something to say about that.”

“The Kiith-Sa’s orders are absolute. Most of our people would never openly question his decisions, trusting he knew what was best. Kharak’s main government, the Daiamid, condemned this action, however. The Gaalsien representatives of the Daiamid were ejected, and the entire Kiith was exiled.”

“That seems harsh. How is that fair to the Gaalsien families who just want a safe life for themselves? I doubt everypo—everyone agreed with destroying an entire city.”

“You’re correct, but as I’ve said, no one would openly question the Kiith-Sa. I’m sure a few Gaalsien would have requested political asylum, but what you must understand about the Kharakian social structure was that everyone was part of a Kiith, but abandoning one to join another was a difficult feat to accomplish. Loyalty and trust issues,” Khamari explained. “In any case, with the order of exile, our Kiith became nomads, adapting to survive in the desert where no one else could, fighting to prevent any and all from seeking the stars.”

“Miirpat still fought for the protection of Kharak?”

“No one knew what happened to Miirpat after the exile. He just disappeared, so a new Kiith-Sa quickly filled his position. However, without access to the truth buried in Saju-Ka, the Gaalsien lived under the leadership of those misguided by the falseness of our religion.”

“But … If the truth was lost, how do you know all of this?”

“Is it not obvious? Given the Gaalsien now roam the stars, it was inevitable that at some point we would try to seek our origins, returning to what was left of Kharak and uncovering the location and secrets of Saju-Ka.”

Glare remained silent, as she attempted to process everything Khamari had told her. “Wait, something doesn’t make sense here. If you knew the truth, why was the Gaalsien fleet during the Harmony campaign led by those you would consider misguided?”

“The discovery of Saju-Ka happened shortly after the demise of the agent who posed as Captain Paktu. Suffice it to say, what we found sent shock-waves through our Kiith, but considering how many violations of Sajuuk’s will had been committed, I think many of us were more relieved than anything.”

“Yet despite the truth, you remained with the Raiders. Why not go back to the Hiigarans?”

“Your naivety is almost adorable. Think about it from their point of view. We were the fanatics who went to war with most Kiithid on Kharak. Elements of our Kiith hid in the cryo trays of the mothership bound for Hiigara, with the goal of sabotage in mind. The End Times came along, and Captain Paktu caused even more trouble. After his defeat, the rest of us joined the Turanic Raiders to survive. Do you honestly think the Hiigarans would want to hear us out on anything?”

“I mean … I did.”

“For which I suppose I appreciate. Unfortunately, our relationship with Hiigara is beyond salvaging. They don’t want to talk diplomacy with us, and most, if not all Gaalsien despise them. For all the effort our ancestors put in to protecting Kharak, how were we rewarded? With Kharak being torched for the actions of the opposing Kiithid. Now they sit happily on their paradise world, while we, the true guardians, are left to fend for ourselves.”

“What if we helped?” Glare suggested. “I’m sure we could convince Hiigara to at least sit down for talks.”

“I doubt you speak for your superiors, just as I doubt they would believe what I’d say.”

“Then help me help you. Surely you’ve got some information I could use to prove you’re sincere. I don’t believe torture is a reliable tool for extracting information, so I doubt whatever information you have in this tablet would be true. If what you’ve said to me is true, though, I’d like to help.”

“You’re putting me in a precarious position here. If word got out that a high-ranking member of the Gaalsien had betrayed the Turanic Raiders, my people would not longer be safe. We do what we must to survive. Such is the way of Gaalsien life.”

“But it doesn’t—”

“Excuse me Deckhoof,” the guard called out from his post. “You’re needed in the briefing room.”

Glare looked back and forth between the guard and Khamari. Giving the prisoner one final look, she added, “Just think about it. I’ll do my best to help you, but I can’t do that if I have nothing to work with.”

Having returned from the briefing room a few hours earlier, Glare remained in bed beside Obsidian, staring silently up at the ceiling.

“Seems like you’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Obsidian pointed out, picking up moderate levels of stress from the unicorn. “The whole Khamari thing is really bothering you, isn’t it?”

“Mmhm. I don’t know, I think we might be making a mistake by giving him to the Hiigarans just like that.”

“It’s out of our hooves now. No sense worrying about something you can’t change.”

Silence was the only reply Obsidian received. After another minute of listening to the destroyer’s humming, the changeling spoke up again. “Hey, Glare?”

“Hmm?”

“Am I—am I evil?”

Glare blinked. “What?”

“Just with all the recent events, I’ve started to wonder if my idea of right and wrong is warped.”

“Oh, Obsidian. Look, I won’t lie. You can be a little extreme at times, and occasionally surly, but that doesn’t make you evil. You just have a few things to work through. I think given your history, it’s at least partially understandable.”

“Hmm. Makes me wonder why you even bother to put up with me.”

“If you can tell me why a pony-hating changeling made an exception for me, I might answer that.”

“You were the first pony I’d met that showed me any respect. Ever. You looked past everything associated with my kind, even after the more … unpleasant revelations. In a way, I admired you. You’ve got a heart of gold.”

“You think maybe I’m not the only pony like that?” Glare suggested. “If you’ve suddenly grown self-conscious, perhaps you might accept that most Equestrians aren’t bad, either, hmm?”

Obsidian shrugged. “I guess.”

“Well that’s a start in the right direction. As for what drew me to you? I see the good in you, too. I don’t know if you’re just being insecure with the tough stallion act, or if it’s something else, but I know you want to do right by others, even if your methods aren’t always the best choice. Does that answer your question?”

“Well enough.”

“Glad we sorted that out. Now stop hogging the blanket, or give me a wing. It’s freezing!”

26: Interlude

Soon after the pressure doors locked, Azimuth let out an exhausted sigh, and her pink-feathered wings drooped from her sides. Massaging her head to relieve a mild migraine, she paused to drop her belongings on the room's central table. While her workload during non-combat phases was relatively low, the twelve-hour shifts drained the pegasus more than any strenuous physical or mental activity.

Azimuth’s schedule was fairly predictable. So too were her habits. At the end of each shift, she’d contemplate setting aside an hour at the gym, knowing full well the importance of keeping active when most of her time was spent seated. She also knew that like every day, the thought would be dismissed, and she’d remain in her quarters anyway.

The pegasus wondered if her laziness was somehow attributed to her living arrangements. As an officer, Azimuth enjoyed the luxury and privacy of only dual accommodation in the officer’s quarters. Aside from her bed, Azimuth’s most used item of furniture was the sofa, where the officer would delude herself into thinking a twenty-minute nap would be just that. More often than not, the pegasus would wake several hours later, still in uniform, and her fur matted with sweat.

Heading for her wardrobes, Azimuth unlocked the nearest one, revealing her personal armoury. Each item secured to the wall electronically, keyed to the officer’s VMUI. Two LR-48s mounted vertically, with ample ammunition in containers underneath. Further below were close-quarters weapons, including a sheathed combat knife, and a concussive shock baton. Lying on the floor in larger containers were assorted tools and maintenance equipment related to the upkeep of each weapon.

Hanging her cap on a hook near an empty column of shelves, Azimuth closed the wardrobe, and opened the next one, revealing a pantry and mini-fridge occupying one half of the area. Though low on stock, a few bottles of assorted fruit juices remained, along with some dry snacks. Azimuth was especially fond of the roasted seaweed packs she would pick up from Equestria, and made it a priority to stock up on as much of them as possible whenever planet-side.

The second half contained emergency equipment, such as oxygen bottles, protective equipment, first-aid kits, and backup communication devices. A few leftover shelves held Azimuth’s effects, most of which was gardening equipment. If one were to enter the officer’s quarters, the need for such equipment would be apparent.

Secured to almost every available part of the room on her half were potted plants. Those on the floor, or mounted to the walls contained powerful magnets to keep them in place during high Gs, while smaller magnets with strings held up vines, or climbing plants. Hydrangeas bordered the pressure door. The pale purple flowers of wisterias hung from the ceiling edges outside the bathroom. Aloe, and a wide variety of succulents occupied the smaller wall pots.

It took Azimuth many attempts at trial and error to perfect off-world gardening, learning the hard way what happens to unsecured soil in a weightless or negative-G environment, or the consequences of insufficient support for plants in high-G situations. Reminiscing, she smiled as she went about watering the thirstier plants.

Though not the most elegant solution to keeping soil in place, Azimuth pulled back at the cling wrap surrounding the stems of each plant, carefully pouring some water into each pot. Humming occasionally, she set about performing some maintenance, removing yellowed leaves, snipping away at undesired growths, and sweeping the floors once she had finished, all the while contemplating the equipment and logistics required too transition to a hydroponic setup.

Washing her hooves, the officer emerged from the bathroom and glanced at the pantry. Yawning, she made her way to the sofa instead, spreading across and letting her left wing droop to the floor. Just twenty minutes. Too hungry to sleep, anyway, Azimuth thought.

She thought wrong.

Arc Sabre had finished re-racking his barbell weights on the gym’s deck. Giving the bench a disinfecting wipe that would make a germaphobe proud, the stoic officer left for the nearest elevator.

Stepping in, he headed down to his quarters. Alone in the elevator, his face cracked slightly, as he grew slightly anxious. Upon arrival at his deck, he quickened his pace, glancing around, before opening the doors to his quarters.

His first order of business was the same as any other day. Heading for his armoury, he removed his sword and placed it in its mounting, just below a photo of an older stallion whose mane and coat matched Sabre’s, save for a few grey patches atop his head.

After a quick shower, the unicorn set about tidying up what little there was to tidy. Even a single strand of mane against the glossy floor was no match for the compulsively neat officer. Combined with his minimalism, however, his living space was best described as bland and sterile, lacking even the smallest piece of decoration to give some semblance of homeliness.

Sabre was about to retrieve several items from one of his wardrobes, when a set of knocks against his pressure door made him freeze. Moving towards the exit, he opened the doors, revealing a large griffon with a larger grin upon his face.

“Eyy, ye missed me, sir?”

“Hey, keep it down, Claymore,” Sabre spoke softly. “You know I don’t want others getting the wrong idea about me.”

Moving past the unicorn, Claymore entered the officer’s quarters. “Aye, ye tell me every time. Not sure why yer makin’ a fuss over it.” Looking around, he added, “So where’s the new guy?”

“Right behind you,” another griffon raised his voice just outside. “Just missed your elevator.”

Sabre, gestured towards the newcomer. “Claymore, this is Syzygy. Syz, Claymore.”

Syz whistled. “You highlanders sure are bigger up close.”

“And ye mainlanders are tiny as always,” Claymore countered. “So, Sabre. Ye managed to finally bring everyone together?”

“I did. Crux and the Doc should be here soon.” Turning away, the unicorn approached his wardrobe once more, and rummaged through several drawers. “You two can get settled in, while I get everything prepared.”

“Sooooo, what exactly do you need me to do?” Syz took a seat at the table while he and Claymore waited. “I’ve never done something like this before. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t at least a little nervous.”

“I’m sure you’ll learn quick enough,” Sabre called out, his head practically submerged in the bottom drawer. “Seriously, where did I put the damn thing?” he muttered to himself.

“Aye.” Claymore slapped the smaller griffon’s back with a wing. “Jus’ follow my lead. An’ don’t forget to relax. Nothin’ serious goes on here, anyway.”

Sabre returned with a small pouch levitating beside him. “Since we’re waiting on the others, we might as well get you started. Claymore”—he produced a sheet of paper with a template on it, while several dice with different numbers of sides rolled out onto the table—“get Syz started on character creation, while I sort the snacks out.”

“Make darn sure that isolation valve is set,” Sierra ordered, wiping her brow and attempting to return some manner of harmony to her dishevelled mane. The oil and grease that managed to trap itself in the fur of her fore-hooves only served to amplify her bedraggled appearance.

An olive-drab unicorn nearby confirmed the positions of multiple levers for several valves built into a small recession in the deck. Beside it, an access panel was cast aside, while the technicians inspected various components. “Plasma delivery tubes one through six are isolated, and the manifold shutoff valve is closed, ma’am.”

Donning her pressure suit, Sierra squeezed into the bottom of the first torpedo tube via a maintenance hatch. Inside, she secured a line to an anchor point on the bottom edge of the first torpedo tube, then looped it through a harness worn over her suit. Giving it a hard tug for good measure, Sierra adhered her front mag boots to the inner walls of the tube. Pulling herself up, she grunted with each laboured motion. “If this turns out to be a waste of my time, somepony is going to be put on sewage line maintenance for a month.”

A voice came through her earpiece. “Ensign? How you doing up there?”

“Now’s not really a good time, Eclipse. What do you need?”

“Eh, there seems to be some trouble down in utilities. One of the crew mentioned an issue with a power bank, and couldn’t figure it out. Think you can check it out once you’re done?”

Sierra sighed. “Seems like I’m the only pony around here who knows how to fix things. Alright fine. Let the crew know I’ll head down in half an hour, assuming no delays. Still diagnosing tube one. Oh, hey, would it kill you to drop the engines down to quarter-G? Would make my life a lot easier.”

“Best I can do is half-G,” Eclipse replied. After a pause, his voice returned. “That better?”

Sierra could feel her weight decrease. “Better than nothing. Thanks, Eclipse. Sierra out.”

Ascending the torpedo tube, the earth pony frequently paused, confirming the automatic mechanisms in her harness were maintaining the correct line tension, while she attached her safety line to each anchor built into tiny depressions along the tube’s walls.

Eventually, she reached her destination. About a third of the way up the tube lied the plasma filling port, retracted flush with its surroundings. Around the wide, telescopic tube, were several electromagnets, which, like all the other magnets mounted to every surface of the plasma delivery tubes, allowed plasma to flow from Amarok’s engines, without melting the tubes on contact.

Only, something was immediately apparent, as Sierra finished her climb. Shining the light from her helmet onto the port, she could see one of the electromagnets had burned out. Tapping on her VMUI, she overrode several safety limiters and forced the plasma port to extend. After performing a quick visual inspection, she retracted the port and enabled the safety features once more.

“Specialist,” Sierra called her assistant unicorn through her comms. “I’ve located the problem. About a tenth of the plasma port is melted along one side. Looks like one of the electromagnets failed. I’ll mark the tube inop and lock it out, until I can put together a repair team.”

Climbing back down, Sierra returned through the hatch back to the upper torpedo room deck. After removing her harness and packing away her safety gear, she turned to her assistant. “I’m needed elsewhere. Please return my equipment, then update your deck on the situation. Dismissed.”

Watching the unicorn trot off with the equipment floating beside her, Sierra entered the nearest elevator and descended to the utilities deck. While she continued down, she twisted her helmet slightly to one side, until it unsealed. Lifting it away, she attached her helmet to a carabiner on her left side.

Arriving at the utilities deck, Sierra soon caught sight of an earth pony near the problematic power bank. As she drew nearer, she could make out several toolboxes spread out around the area. “Alright, what seems to be the problem?” she sighed, the weariness in her voice becoming more pronounced.

The turquoise pony looked towards the source of the voice, before snapping to his hooves. “Oh, Ensign! I wasn’t expecting you so soon. Specialist Amp.”

“At ease, Specialist. Now, the problem?”

“Right. Well the power bank was running fine on its own, and then it just died.”

Sierra yawned. “Could you be more specific? What were you doing in the time leading up to the event?”

“Not much, really. I was told to go inspect the components of the bank in this section”—Amp unlatched a vertical sliding compartment and pulled it away from the power bank—“but it was just a routine inspection. Bring the bank offline, remove each component, inspect for signs of damage or wear, then return them back where they belonged.”

Sierra studied the circuitry and hummed. “And you’re sure you put everything back the way it was?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sure if there was an issue, the bank wouldn’t have gone online again. Or something might have blown. But it didn’t. Might have been a power surge, but I haven’t been able to identify the cause of the problem. None of the components show issues when tested with a multimeter, either. Only thing out of the ordinary was a low power output, but I figured it was just low ship demand.”

Continuing to look over the exposed components, the unamused officer grew increasingly tired. “Did you reverse the polarity?”

Amp raised an eyebrow and gave Sierra a look. “Really? Cracking that old sci-fi joke?”

“No, seriously. There’s a diode in the corner that’s installed the wrong way around.”

“Wait, what?” Amp glanced at the component in question. Shutting the bank down again, he removed the diode and installed it with the correct ends in the right locations. After activating the power bank, a quick diagnostic indicated everything was running as it should be. “Oh, geez,” Amp groaned at the humiliating mistake.

“From now on, I’m calling you Polarity.” Heading for an elevator, Sierra called out behind her. “Hopefully that will help you to remember something so basic.”

27: Asaam Kiith'Sid (Part 1)

Amarok emerged from hyperspace in Hiigaran territory, near the remains of the Tanis derelict; the old construction site of the Pride of Hiigara. Soft blue and purple hues from the distant sun surrounded the destroyer, diffused in the sparse dust cloud it occupied. Crepuscular rays filtered through a colossal Progenitor derelict approximately half a light-year away, wherever the behemoth had decayed or broken apart.

“Hyperspace successful,” Sierra announced. “Drives powering down to idle.”

Azimuth joined in. “Location confirmed. We have arrived at Tanis.”

“Specialist,” Quasar called out to the nearby unicorn. “Our contact around?”

Crux nodded. “Affirmative, sir. One super-capital-class vessel detected on long-range sensors. Verifying drive signature … aaaaand it’s the Hiigaran shuttle.”

“Broadcast our transponder codes and open comms.”

“Done, and done. All yours, Captain.”

“Fal Ro, Amarok,” Quasar transmitted.

Several seconds of silence passed, before a low female voice replied. “Amarok, go ahead.”

“We’ll be heading for your position shortly. Tracking direct.”

“Copied. Your codes have been verified. Cleared to approach.”

Terminating the comms link, Quasar raised his voice. “Lieutenant Azimuth, set a course for the shuttle, abeam port-side at one-five-zero metres. Ensign Sierra, ahead standard to midpoint.”

Azimuth read her orders back, followed by Sierra. After finishing their work, the Ensign spoke up. “So, Eclipse. I was leaving the galley earlier on and overheard you ranting about the Infiltrators. Something about the pegasi. What was that about?”

Eclipse groaned. “Those two are starting to become a pain in my flank now. They’ve been pranking crew, and it’s starting to get out of hoof.”

“Why, what have they been up to?”

“Let’s see … there’s the crew quarters where they covered the interior entirely in aluminium foil. Chefs weren’t too happy about most of their rolls going missing, either. Then there were the rubber mice left in random locations across most decks. A couple of times, they secured cling wrap over elevator doors. Once again, chefs were furious. Not sure how they’re obtaining those supplies. Next was an air horn stuck to the back of an inner pressure door in crew quarters, and the latest one was disguising duct tape as toilet paper.”

Quasar snickered. “I like a couple of those.”

Eclipsed pointed at the Captain. “You of all ponies should be expressing clear disapproval.”

Quasar shrugged. “I’ll admit, one or two of those might be safety issues, but they remind me of my early years.”

“I sense an incoming ‘back in my days’ story,” Sierra mocked, mimicking an elderly pony’s voice.

“Hey, I’m not that old!” Quasar shot back.

“Suuuuure.”

“I’m fifteen years older than you, Ensign. If you want to call me old, you’re going to have to admit you’re in your middle ages first.”

Sierra’s eyes bulged. “No, no, I’m good. On with your story then.”

“That’s what I thought. So back during training, before any of this space travel nonsense, there were two pegasi batches,” Quasar started, reclining as he recalled the events. “We were essentially rivals, always trying to one-up each other. See who performs the best, who gets the highest grades, and so on. One day my batch returned to our dorms to find all the furniture had been turned upside down. The other batch took credit for it the next day.”

“Boring!” the chief engineer shouted.

“Shut it, rev-head. Anyway, it quickly escalated into an all-out prank war. I assume every pegasus remembers centrifuge training, right? Had it a few days later. My batchmate Sunspot had this brilliant idea of dumping our MREs into sick bags. Oh, which meal was it? You know, the one that tasted horrible.”

“They all tasted horrible,” Arc Sabre quipped, eliciting a couple of laughs from the other command centre crew.

“Too right. Well it was the one with corn,” Quasar continued. His face lit up a moment later. “Corn chowder! That’s the one! Anyway, I did my thing in the spinner, then flopped out, acting like I was ready to throw up. Sunspot takes his turn after me, so I sat in his place on the benches, holding the sick bag he so kindly prepared for me. He comes out acting all sick as well, and I pass him the second bag.”

Eclipse rolled his eyes. “Oh, please don’t tell me you two pretended to barf, then eat from each other’s bags.”

“Even better,” Quasar chuckled. “Points for creativity, though. So I said ‘oh I don’t think I can hold it any longer’, and Sun goes ‘no, don’t, you’ll set me off’, then we faked it. Me first, him next. All this time, our batch fought valiantly to keep straight faces, while our rivals watched, trying to keep their lunch down after their sessions. So we go past them to dispose of our bags, when I pretended to trip into Sun. We threw our bags into the air, and they landed on this poor sod. Completely saturated. He just looked at himself in horror. Raw, unrefined, horror.”

Sierra giggled, snorting in the process. “I imagine he had an involuntary gastric expulsion after that.”

“Oh he did, but it got better,” Quasar replied, an evil glint in his eyes. “His first instinct was to put a hoof over his mouth, and that only sent liquid to his left and right.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Right in the faces of the two sitting next to him! It didn’t stop there, either. Once a few of them started, the rest followed. It was a fountain of bile at one end of the room, while our batch was ready to wet ourselves with laughter on the other end.”

“What happened after that?” Azimuth piped up. “I guess somepony had to clean up that mess afterwards, huh?”

Quasar nodded. “Yep. The centrifuge operator reported us, and after we got smoked for a good ten minutes, Sun and I went back to make those floors shine. With nothing more than a single bucket and a dish washing sponge. Worth it!”

“So what happened with the other batch?” Eclipse asked.

“Well, after a couple of days, they sneaked into our dorms while we were out on PT. That evening, we all found out the hard way that our toilet seats were pepper sprayed. When I went to find Sun, I barged in on him applying yoghurt to his ass, and … elsewhere. You know how it is. Once you touch a surface with pepper spray, or chilli, it's passed on to everything else you touch.”

Sabre looked up at the ceiling, recreating the scene in his head. “Now there’s a mental image.”

“Whatever you’re imagining is probably entirely accurate.”

Amarok continued its approach, turning retrograde and decelerating. As its destination approached, Eclipse left for the fourth deck, where the Infiltrators and their prisoner waited. Nearing the shuttle, Amarok made minor adjustments and slowed to a halt. Once more, Quasar opened communications.

“Fal Ro, Amarok ready to transfer the prisoner and our Infiltrators when you are.”

“Copied. Receiving crews are standing by. I assume this will be one of those teleporting transfers?”

“Affirmative. They should be aboard your ship in the next few minutes. Take care of our guys.”

“Will do. See you in a few days. Fal Ro out.”

“Welcome aboard,” greeted the officer who had communicated with Amarok prior. She, like the other crew, wore the red and black uniforms associated with one of Hiigara’s fiercest clans. “I am Captain Aava Soban. You three are Swift, Shift, and Sparky, correct?”

“That’s us,” the pegasi replied in unison. Though they wore their NSUs like the other Infiltrators, it was clear the twins had neglected to iron their attire.

“And that must be the Gaalsien,” Aava stated, the shift in her tone apparent. Giving Khamari a look over, her gaze returned to the three Infiltrators. “I’ve assigned an escort to each of you for the duration of your stay with us. If you’ll follow them, they’ll lead you to your quarters.”

Shift turned to the other three Infiltrators. “Guess we’ll see you fellas later. Have fun while we’re on foalsitting duty.” Wheeling around, the pegasus nearly lost balance from the momentum of his overfilled side bags, saved from toppling over by a nudge from Sparky. The diamond dog shook his head, picking up his duffel bag and following the escorts out of the compartment.

Aava watched her escorts disappear with Swift, Shift and Sparky. She then barked orders to her nearby crew, pointing at Khamari as she did so. “Last osaaksa er lon’giirvalkvard.”

“Mor, Aklast’liin,” several of the crew replied, before leaving with Khamari, pushing him in the direction of the exit.

“You three would then be Shadow, Glare, and Obsidian,” Aava addressed the final three. Like Shift, Shadow’s bags bulged, though to a lesser extent. Glare levitated an additional bag alongside her, while Obsidian carried the absolute minimum. Turning suddenly, Aava made for a different exit. “Follow me,” she called out. “We’re about two hours out from Hiigara. You’re welcome to stay in the wardroom while you wait.”

“I’m unfamiliar with the term. What’s a wardroom?” Shadow asked, trotting behind Aava.

“Considering it’s the mess for senior officers, I’m surprised you as an officer have no idea what one is.”

“Equestrian branches of military never segregated officers from those below them,” Shadow explained. “What about yours, Obsidian?”

“I’d say we’re in line with the Hiigarans on this matter,” Obsidian began. “I know Equestria loves to breed familiarity, but changelings go in the opposite direction. Helps prevent emotions, and conflicts of interest from getting in the way of things.”

“Hypocrite,” Glare ribbed, failing to think about the implications of her comment in time.

“Why?” the zebra enquired. “Just because of our Canterlot outing?”

Glare stared vacantly ahead, the pause in the air threatening to become suspiciously long. “Yes. Exactly that.”

Obsidian commenced damage control. “I’ll admit, despite my reservations about Equestria, you ponies have … grown on me. As much as I hate to say it, even Swift and Shift. They might be the annoying little brothers, but they’re my annoying little brothers,” he finished, looking Shadow directly in the eyes as he added, “Under no circumstances are you to tell them I said that.”

Shadow chuckled. “How sweet.”

“Shut up.”

“How cute,” Glare joined in.

“Don’t you start!”

“How adorable!” Shadow teased.

Obsidian was not amused. As the four came to a halt beside a service elevator, he turned to Aava. “Captain? Are you accepting applications for Kiith Soban?”

“You joke, but we are. Actually wouldn’t mind having a few of your kind as Sobani.”

“You’d take anyone? Even if they aren’t your species?”

Aava led the Infiltrators into the elevator before answering. “Technically, yes, but while it’s easier to join Kiith Soban, compared to any other Kiith, it’s not a decision to be made lightly. It’s a never-ending life of military service. Sure, it’s rewarding in more ways than one, and there are few greater honours than being Sobani, but it comes at a price. Let’s just say the weak are weeded out within days.”

“How do you join?” Obsidian asked, catching a glimpse of Shadow and Glare giving him looks. “Relax. Like she said, I wasn’t being serious.”

“Traditionally one would tear the colours of their Kiith from their clothes, as a way to signify abandonment of loyalty to their past.” Watching the elevator’s display indicate a foreign symbol, Aava added, “This is our floor.”

Glare moved up beside the Captain as they left the elevator. “I’m guessing there’s a history to that ritual?”

“There is. That same history ties in to the origin of our Kiith. On Kharak, we were originally known as the Grey Brotherhood. It was by no means a noteworthy Kiith back then. The story goes that its territory had come under attack, and became partially occupied by a more powerful Kiith. The survivors were led away by one known as Soban the Red. When Soban brought news of the attack to the Brotherhood’s Kiith-Sa, he was shocked and enraged when the Sa refused to retaliate, and intended to ally with them instead.”

“This Sa sounds like he was trying to preserve the lives of his people,” Glare commented.

“This Sa sounds like a buzzing coward,” Obsidian retorted.

Aava replied with an agreeable hum. “Hearing this, Soban ripped the Brotherhood’s colours from his body, declaring he’d never belong to a Kiith that ignored the ‘blood of children crying from the ground’. Soban and the survivors broke away from the Brotherhood, and their first act was to strike back at those who attacked them. It is said that not a single blade of grass was left green in the aftermath. From that day on, Kiith Soban was born as an almost nomadic Kiith of pure mercenaries, and were considered an invaluable asset to any military.”

“That explains why you’re revered as fierce combatants.” Glare paused, as another thought brewed. “But as mercenaries, doesn’t that mean you’ve sometimes had to fight on the wrong side? With respect, it seems a bit odd to go from the blood of children speech, to contract killers.”

“Sobani won’t pretend that part of our history never existed. After all, on Kharak, no one had the luxury of not having to worry about survival. However, after discovering our origins, our people were mostly united in the goal of seeking out our homeworld. Nowadays, our ‘side’ is simply Hiigara’s.”

Glare continued with her volley of questions. “But the Kiith system still exists, so there’s still some sort of segregation there, right?”

“On Kharak, and in the early days after reclaiming Hiigara, that was the case. Nowadays, it’s more of a status. Yes, there will always be some form of discrimination between Kiithid, but most of it is typically benign. You won’t see employers refusing to hire Manaani on some stereotype about their ancestors being … ahem … ‘free-spirited’ nomads with an affinity for thievery. However, you would still see some less common examples of discrimination.”

“Such as?”

“Well, we have this thing on Hiigara, where anyone with an artistic degree is considered to have a useless education, and Kiith Manaan is typically known for creativity. Compared to the scientific mindset of Kiith S’Jet, the industrious Kiith Nabaal, or the unmatched military capabilities of Kiith Soban, some would scoff at the Manaani, forgetting that while science and technology keep us alive, art makes us want to stay alive.”

“I’ve never really thought about it like that,” Obsidian commented. “I’ve been guilty of looking down on others for that a few times.”

“Glad to provide some enlightenment,” Aava replied, as the four approached the doors to another compartment.

As the doors to the wardroom slid open, the Captain entered first. Two other officers seated around a small coffee table immediately stood upon sighting the newcomers. After a nod from Aava, the officers sat back down, while the Infiltrators deposited their bags near the door, and took a seat at a round dinner table.

As the Captain took a seat beside Shadow, Obsidian spoke up. “You know, after everything we just talked about, I’m surprised that a warrior Kiith is crewing a non-combat ship.”

“Sobani require mass transportation, just like any other,” Aava stated matter-of-factly. “Besides, what makes you think this vessel isn’t equipped for combat? Didn’t notice the twin ion cannons above and below, as you came in?”

“Never had a visual. Just going off the standard design,” the changeling commented.

“Suffice it to say, the original designs still had room for improvement. We’ve lowered the ceilings to bolster internal supports, removed some quarters and hot bunked crew to make a little more space in the hangars, and removed heatsinks to fit larger reactors, at the expense of ship-wide cabin heating.”

“Huh. That explains why it’s comfortably warm in here.”

“Glad you like it. You and I have different definitions of comfortable, though.”

“Figured spending an exile on a desert planet would get a species used to that sort of thing.”

The very air surrounding Aava seemed to change. “You might want to keep comments like that to yourself while on Hiigara.”

“Duly noted.”

An awkward silence followed, before Aava rose. “Right, would anyone like some breakfast? We’ve got eggs, hash browns, and an assortment of pastries. Had the chef make something just before you arrived. I’d recommend the poached eggs with avocado.”

Glare followed. “That sounds lovely. Thank you.”

“Not a fan of eggs, but I might take a few hash browns,” Obsidian spoke next.

Shadow was the last to rise. Following others to the minuscule galley adjoining the wardroom, they each took trays and their respective meals, with the zebra helping herself to Aava’s recommendation, and a pair of pastries filled with apple sauce.

Seated once more, the four continued to converse between bites. As usual, Glare enquired about the history of Aava’s people, listening intently to her responses. The occasional sarcastic reply from Obsidian broke up the history lesson, with his latest observation a remark about how all the ‘bad guys’ seem to enjoy voice modulation.

“It’s not so much that they enjoy changing the sound of their voice. Rather, it’s a way to mask their identity,” Aava explained. “A secondary benefit, mind you. Much of the personal protective equipment used on Kharak which covers the face contains respiration equipment that causes the voice to deepen and resonate.”

“Just like with Khamari,” Glare stated.

“Well, he certainly tried to fool us aboard the Vindicator,” the changeling commented. “If Sparky wasn’t around, we might have taken the wrong one.”

The Captain set her finished meal aside. “That has been our biggest challenge with finding high-value Gaalsien targets. Getting a positive ID on one is usually impossible without a spy. I envy the different abilities your species have, and I’m sure glad we’re on the same side.”

Glare looked up at the ceiling. “I’ve always wondered where we’d be if that frigate never fell out of our sky.”

“Who knows. Maybe you’d have remained hidden in the galaxy. Maybe the Raiders would have found you first. Maybe life in our Galaxy would have ended without the fleet of Harmony.” Shrugging, Aava stood once more with her tray. “Well, I think we’ve waited long enough. If we leave now, we should be above Hiigara by the time you’ve secured yourself aboard the transportation we have arranged for you.”

After the rest of the group left their trays in the scullery, they retrieved their bags and followed Aava to one of the lower decks, via the elevator. Moving past compartments, they made another turn and headed down one of the hangar’s long corridors, passing several airlocks at regular intersections. Aava came to a halt beside one, and gestured toward the thick door. “Your pilot is already on board. Secure yourselves, follow his instructions, and you’ll arrive at Hiigara in no time.”

Shadow bowed her head. “Thank you, Captain. It was a pleasure to meet you. Hopefully we’ll meet again.”

Entering the airlock last, Shadow latched the door behind her. Sensing no pressure differential, the airlock immediately opened the next door, which led to the side entrance of a gunship decorated with Sobani livery. Upon closer inspection, the vessel appeared to be built with armour capable of withstanding atmospheric entry.

As soon as they boarded the vessel, the pilot, already seated at the controls, welcomed the three. “How’s it going? If you want to just pop your bags in that locker on the side, that’ll be great. Whenever you’re ready, strap in. We’re exiting hyperspace in less than five minutes.”

Without giving any of the Infiltrators time to reply, the pilot flipped a guarded switch on an overhead panel, and watched the side door close. Ensuring nothing but green lights illuminated on his annunciator panels, he proceeded with his checklists, muttering occasionally as he read each line displayed on a side screen.

A few minutes after the pilot finished, he received his departure clearance. Having exited hyperspace just seconds prior, the gunship emerged from the shuttle in orbit above Hiigara.

Though difficult to make out the view from their seats, the Infiltrators saw glimpses of a planet remarkably similar to their own, in terms of terrain. The most striking difference was the sheer intensity of the numerous city lights, as they passed over a part of the planet that would have been experiencing sunrise.

Glare could see clouds above a landmass that seemed to be their destination as they descended. “Any of you feel like this is Enigma all over again?”

Shadow shrugged. “Those look like cirrus clouds to me. I don’t think we’ll have to worry about lightning strikes tearing wings off in that weather.”

“Even if we did fly through a storm”—the pilot raised his voice—“we don’t have any wings. It’s pure engine power keeping this craft airborne in atmosphere. In thrust, we trust!”

Compared to the Forge flown by Shadow and Sparky, the gunship was sturdier by orders of magnitude, allowing for a steeper descent. As the minutes passed, the gunship successfully completed atmospheric entry and descended rapidly, passing the cirrus layer and entering a thicker layer of stratus that obscured their destination.

Piercing the final cloud layer, Asaam Kiith’Sid dominated the view. Running north-east to south-west, a wide river split in two, combining again to form a wide holm saturated with numerous skyscrapers. At the centre stood the tallest of the buildings, with others progressively shorter, the further out they were. Beyond the rivers, the land took on a more suburban appearance, though the passengers could not tell what lied beyond, as the morning fog had yet to be lifted.

The pilot made a succession of turns towards the holm, descending to an altitude in line with other airborne traffic. Reducing speed to maintain safe separation, he adjusted his heading while zooming past the outer towers. Eventually he began navigating between them, until they reached their destination.

Breaking off from the rest of the traffic, the gunship slowed to a hover and approached a tunnel running through one of the inner-most skyscrapers. A lane of marked landing pads lined each side of the tunnel, and the pilot closed in on the nearest, where several figures watched from below.

Manoeuvring through, the gunship slowed to a stable hover less than half a metre from the ground. A set of passenger boarding stairs moved into place at the gunship’s side door, and after receiving the all-clear from the ground staff, the pilot flipped a switch to open the door. The roar of the gunship’s engines quickly entered the cabin.

Cleared to disembark, Obsidian, Glare, and Shadow stepped off, their manes thrown into chaos from the gunship’s thrusters. As they reached the base of the stairs, they were greeted by a member of security. Dressed in a sleek tactical suit of black with red trim, he offered his salutations to the newcomers.

“Welcome to Hiigara,” he shouted over the engines, awkwardly attempting to shake the newcomers’ hooves. “Isak Soban. I will be in charge of your security during your stay here. This way. We need to process your documents before proceeding.”

Following Isak, the three proceeded into a small office and seated themselves near the door. Presenting their documents, Isak handed them over to a similarly dressed officer behind a counter, who did not even bat an eyelid at the three aliens as he scrutinised their identification and travel documents. Satisfied with their authenticity, he returned them to Isak, who in turn returned them to their respective owners.

“Everything is in order. If you’ll follow me back to your transport, we can get you settled in to your accommodation.”

Returning once more to their gunship, the pilot departed the tower. While he manoeuvred through the busier areas of the city, Isak busied himself with a small, hand-held device containing paragraphs of text, and Glare and Shadow attempted to smooth out their manes and tails.

Giving the screen a quick scroll through with his finger, Isak eventually turned the screen off and cleared his throat. “While we’re flying to your hotel, it might be a good idea to brief you on the events over the next four days. Since it’s now … almost eleven hundred local time, you three will have the day to yourselves to get settled in. You’ll have individual rooms, and an allowance provided by your Navy. I’ve already taken the liberty of inspecting each room before your arrival.”

“That’s kind of you, though I’m sure whatever we’re given will be fine.” Glare commented.

“He’s security. Quality control isn’t his priority here,” Obsidian clarified.

Isak shrugged. “While true, I figured I might as well do both if I’m there. In any case, your meeting with the New Daiamid will be held after tomorrow. This leaves tomorrow free as well. Should you wish to leave the hotel, I am to be informed, as I’m under strict orders to escort you personally at all times outside the confines of the hotel.”

“We can go wherever we want?” Glare enquired. “Like tourists?”

“If you so wish, yes. Provided the location is somewhere in the city, of course. Now, for your meeting with the New Daiamid, the day will be straightforward. We’ll gather in the lobby at zero nine hundred, and fly out. During the meeting, you’ll be asked a few questions to confirm and follow up on certain events, and to assist with confirming some of our own suspicions. We may ask for your opinions on certain matters if we deem it necessary, then have a few discussions with certain key figures from both of our Navies.”

Shadow hummed. “Sounds simple enough. And the fourth day?”

“We’ll leave that open for now.” Pausing, Isak looked outside, to find their transport coming in to land on the street outside their hotel. “If we need the extra time, we may have to bring you back on that day. Otherwise”—he moved toward the opening exit, where another set of stairs appeared—“your departure will be set for the evening. Shall we?”

Following Isak off the gunship, the group descended to street level, once again blown about by the gunship. Entering the hotel’s lobby, the three took in their surroundings. Ahead was a large floral arrangement surrounded by white and sky-blue seats. Additional seats were found to the right, with several curious individuals eyeing the newcomers. At the opposite end stood a concierge, assisting an elderly couple at his counter. He too, frequently glanced at the three who headed towards the receptionists.

Isak gestured around him. “This is Lon’Kassar Khontala, or The Shimmering Mountain. You’ll have free access to any facility in this building, and discounts on meals and services.” Pausing, he approached one of the ladies behind the counters and flashed his ID card. Without a word, the receptionist nodded and produced three envelopes. Distributing them, he continued. “You’ll find more information inside, along with your room keys and allowance, plus my room number and contact details, should you require my assistance.”

Reading the hand-written text on her envelope, Glare looked up at Isak. “Umm, sorry, I don’t understand your language.”

“Ahh, a minor oversight on my part. Forgot to let the receptionist know you only understood Common.” Taking the envelope from Glare, he discretely read the numbers. “Seesee-bez-vavar. That would be nine-zero-four.” Returning the envelope, he read the numbers nine-zero-nine and nine-zero-one for Obsidian and Shadow respectively. “The contents should all be in Common, though. Now then, lifts this way.”

The group made their way around a corner, where nine elevators were found in a triangular arrangement, with three to each side. Pressing one of the buttons to call an elevator, a high-low chime sounded, and the middle set of doors near the four slid open. Entering last, Isak pressed the numerical symbol for the ninth floor.

Glare analysed the different buttons. “I hope I’m not offending by saying this, but your written language is so … peculiar.”

“No offence taken, ma’am. Our letters and numbers look the way they do because they originated from our people’s time on Kharak,” Isak explained. “In those vast deserts, it would not be uncommon to write large symbols or text in the sand, so letters, numbers, and to an extent, our entire language, had to be kept simple. You won’t find many captivating novels written in Kushan-La, I’m afraid.”

“What about the language used before Kharak?”

Isak shrugged. “That was lost a long time ago. All we know is that our spoken language was mostly derived from it, but the writing is pure Kharakian.”

The four looked up in unison as the voice in the elevator announced, “Sha seesee.”

“That’s our floor,” Isak stated. “After you.”

Exiting the elevator, the group followed the signs on the walls to their rooms, going their separate ways after some direction from Isak. Reaching his room, Obsidian inserted the key card above the door handle. After a click and a green light, he pushed the door inwards and entered.

Immediately to his left was a wardrobe. As soon as the entrance door closed, Obsidian locked it and dropped the disguise on his wings. Removing his wing blades, he placed them carefully on the bottom of the wardrobe.

To his right was a bathroom. The tub seemed large enough for a changeling, however the toilet was completely foreign to him. Tilting his head, he frowned, wondering how he’d position himself on such a thing. Opting to worry about it when the time came, he continued further in to his room, past the minibar adjacent to the wardrobe, stocked with miniature bottles of alcohol, and a vast assortment of snacks.

A king-sized bed was found against the right side of the room, just ahead of a wall-mounted headboard made of wood and leather. Several white pillows leaned against it, while a sky-blue throw draped over the sides at the foot of the bed. Mounted to the opposite wall was a large screen, which displayed a welcome message with Obsidian’s name on it.

Moving past the bed and screen, Obsidian set his envelope and room key down on a desk at the far corner. Ignoring the room service menus strategically placed atop the polished white marble surface, he stood at the window, drawing the thin, sheer curtains open, until they were hidden behind the blackout curtains.

Obsidian’s wings shot out defensively as a sudden succession of shrill rings blared from a device on one of the nightstands. Approaching it, Obsidian assumed it was some sort of communication device when he sighted a detachable part. Removing it, he held it in front of his face. “Obsidian.” A voice could be heard from the top half of the device, though it was too faint to understand. He brought the device closer to his good ear. “Hello?”

“Yes, Obsidian, I’m here. It’s Shadow.”

“I see you’ve managed to figure this device out already.”

“It’s called a phone, and I’ve used these before. They’re just civilian comms systems. You’ve got instructions on how to use yours on the phone itself. Anyway, I’m looking through some of the hotel’s facilities, and there’s a restaurant on the third floor called Gambirata. Dinner in five hours?”

“Sure. Glare going, too?”

“Of course. See you then.”

After a click, the sound in the phone cut out. Placing it back in its cradle, Obsidian climbed onto the bed, rearranging the pillows behind him, and feeling himself sinking through the blankets and mattress. Looking at the screen ahead, he read the contents and found some instructions.

Press … red circle? Red circle for movies and series.

Standing on the bed, he flew down and landed in front of the screen. Though there were plenty of entertainment options available using the bunk screens aboard Amarok, Obsidian had heard a lot of praise for the vast selection many other technologically advanced races boasted. Tapping the red circle, he waited. When nothing happened, he tapped it again, to no effect.

“Huh.” Looking around, something caught his eye on the other nightstand. As he drew nearer to the object, he found multiple protruding buttons from its top surface. Most were labelled with single numbers, letters, or symbols, though some were distinct colours. One was red. Picking the object up, he pressed the red button with his other hoof, and a menu appeared on one side of the screen.

Obsidian huffed when most of the menu selections were in the local language. Using the directional buttons on his controller, he scrolled down the list and picked a random movie titled ‘Lon’Kvard’.

Lacking the patience to wait for the movie’s introduction, he skipped through large sections to get an idea of what he would watch.

“Yeah, can I have a dozen red roses please?”

“Somebody had better do something around here!”

“I did not hit her! I did naht!”

“Meh.” Obsidian returned to the movie menu and selected another in the list labelled ‘Lamon Yewon-Da’. A smaller sub-menu appeared with additional selections, each starting with the same name. Selecting any, he continued to skip through different sections.

“There's a meteorite that hit the ground near here. I want to check it out.”

“I am altering the deal. Pray I don’t alter it any further.”

“No. I am your father.”

“Maybe another time,” Obsidian said to himself. Trying a movie in another sub-menu called ‘Bezakpart’, he adjusted the volume and continued skipping.

“There is a clause in the contract, which specifically states any systematised transmission indicating a possible intelligent origin must be investigated.”

“Bones are bent outward, like he exploded from inside.”

“I think it's safe to assume it's not a zombie.”

Piquing his interest, Obsidian removed his NSU, hanging the clothing in the wardrobe, before settling back on the bed and starting the movie from the beginning.

Checking the time on his nightstand, Obsidian took a quick bath, foregoing the use of the lavender-scented shampoo and shower gel tubes that were presented alongside various packaged toiletries beside the bathroom sink.

Drying off with one of the neatly folded towels nearby, he approached the desk and fished out his allowance from the envelope. Expecting notes, or coins like those of Equestria, he instead found a rectangular card, similar to his room key. A long string of numbers were embossed along the lower edge of the card on one side, which had the emblem of Hiigara printed on its surface. On the opposite side was a picture of a young female, her arm outstretched against the backdrop of the galaxy.

Putting his NSU back on again, he retrieved the allowance card and his room key, and slid them into one of his pockets. Heading out, he called an elevator and waited, analysing the sculpture on the triangular pedestal between the elevators. Three granite cones bent and twisted around each other to form a flame-like shape, while a small spotlight at the three corners made various shadows against the ceiling.

A familiar chime announced the elevator’s arrival. Entering, he located the button displaying the numerical symbol for his floor, and ran his hoof down six buttons. Pressing what he assumed was the button for the third floor, the doors closed after a short delay.

Descending toward his destination, the elevator came to a halt early, and Obsidian could see that he had stopped a couple of floors above, with the voice in the elevator announcing, “Sha gaf.” As the doors opened, a member of the hotel staff stepped in, pressing the button for the next floor down. Giving the changeling a polite nod, she stood in front of the doors as they continued.

“Sha vavar.”

Left alone in the elevator once more, Obsidian waited for the doors to close again. Looking up at a screen to the right of the doors, he watched as the symbol for four turned into a three.

“Sha see.”

The sound of voices flooded the elevator as its doors parted, and Obsidian stepped out to find a large, open restaurant to his left. At the opposite end, a function was being held, with a small crowd gathered around a pair of booths flanking a set of double doors.

Heading in the direction of the restaurant, Obsidian confirmed the name. He soon caught sight of Shadow and Glare amongst the bipedal beings, waiting in line to be seated. The former sported an unzipped brown bomber jacket with a lighter fur collar, and the latter a knitted ultramarine jumper over a light blue shirt. Approaching, Shadow made eye contact and waved the changeling over.

Obsidian gave the pair a look over. “I see no one bothered to tell me this would be a fancy dress dinner.”

Shadow shrugged. “It isn’t. I was just cold.”

“I assumed we’d have to be well-dressed here,” Glare mumbled, hiding a light blush. “Had I packed a dress, I probably would have come down wearing it.”

“Hey, if it makes you feel better, I can always wear something else,” Obsidian suggested.

The unicorn raised an eyebrow. “What? The complimentary bath robe from your room? You didn’t exactly pack much, compared to us.”

“Who said I needed physical clothes?” In a flash of green, Obsidian’s NSU was replaced with a red and black plaid shirt. “There. Now we all look silly,” he proclaimed, ignoring the Hiigarans queued behind him, who jumped back and maintained their distance from the alien who appeared to spontaneously combust.

Glare stared at the changeling with envy. “You need to teach me that spell. The mares back in Canterlot would give their left hooves for that.”

“Hmm. I think you’d look better if that red was blue instead,” Shadow critiqued. “Red and black doesn’t suit you at all.”

“Why doesn’t anyone like red and black? It works for those Sobani. Eh, fine.” Another flash of green later, and Obsidian wore Shadow’s suggested colours. “Better?”

“Much.”

Shortly after, a member of staff greeted the three and led them to a recently vacated table. Handing out three menus, she returned to the entrance of the restaurant to seat other patrons. A waiter soon approached the group’s table while they quickly scanned through the menu’s contents.

“Good evening. My name is Crissal, and I will have the pleasure of serving you this evening. Shall I start you off with anything, or would you like me to give you a few more minutes?”

“I think we might need a translator,” Obsidian replied. “I’m assuming gehul’forj is appetisers and lak’forj is main course?” he asked, well aware he had likely butchered the pronunciation.

“Those would be our lunch and dinner meals,” Crissal explained. “However, if you turn to the second half of the menu, you’ll find everything in Common.”

“Understood. Thank you.”

Obsidian and Glare turned to the appropriate section of their menus. While they read through the options, Shadow seemed to have already decided on her order. “I’ll try the chickpeas in the tomato and onion gravy. Does it come with rice, or should I order that separately?”

Entering the order into his hand-held device, Crissal nodded. “It already comes with the meal. We’ll also have a complimentary selection of bread sent out with your meals. Would you care for the wine list, or shall I put you down for any other drink?”

“Just some water for now, please. That’s all for myself. Glare?”

Glare pointed to one of the main courses. “Is this one with the spinach and cheese spicy?”

“Not particularly. There’s some green chilli, but we can adjust it per your tastes, if you prefer.”

“That’s alright. If it’s mild, I can still eat it. I’ve just heard stories of your food being notoriously spicy.”

Crissal laughed. “A slight exaggeration. To be fair though, some of our dishes do fit that description. If you’re still worried about your meal being too spicy, might I suggest a glass of lassi? We have a few variants on the last few pages of the drinks menu.”

“Let me have a quick look, then. Go ahead, Obsidian.”

“For me, I’ll take the tandoori chicken, and a mango juice.”

Crissal blinked. “Uhh, can I just confirm … You wish to order the tandoori chicken? From our non-vegetarian options?”

“Yes.”

“And I’ll go for the savoury lassi, please,” Glare finished.

Confirming their orders, the waiter retrieved the menus and left the three to themselves. After a moment, Shadow chuckled. “You know, the last time I went to a dinner like this with those under my command, I thought I was going to wring some necks.”

“I assume you’re not talking about us Infiltrators, right?” Obsidian asked. “Or was I not invited to some dinner before?”

“No, no, this was with my former squad.”

“The Nightcasters, right?”

Shadow froze for a moment. “I’m not even going to ask how you know of us.”

Glare looked between the two, unsure what they were talking about. “What are the Nightcasters?”

“Classified, I’m afraid,” Shadow replied quickly, before Obsidian could open his mouth. “Suffice it to say, however, that for all my squad’s abilities, none of them knew how to act properly in public. I once invited them to a restaurant, on a night much like ours. Food was great, we spent a few hours chatting away. Seemed like the perfect group, until the bill came along.”

“What, do they not pay members of secret military organisations in Equestria a decent salary?” Obsidian ribbed.

“Quite the opposite, but that didn’t stop some from being tight with their money. Half of them wanted to keep things simple and split the bill evenly. The other half wanted to pay for what they ordered.”

The changeling frowned. “Isn’t it better if everyone just pays for what they order? Seems the most logical to me. Otherwise, those who eat less pay more than those who eat more. It’s only fair.”

Shadow nodded. “In a way, I agree. Some of them made the point that they only had a couple of drinks, or that they skipped one or more courses. The problem was that it was seen as rather petty. As tight-knit as we were in our line of work, a simple dinner bill is what got between us.”

Glare hummed. “I see where you’re coming from. Me, I wouldn’t mind paying either way. Money isn’t something I hoard. What’s the point in having it, if not to enjoy life with yourself and others?”

“Yeah, but if you want to pay for your own order, why should that be an issue?” Obsidian argued.

“The issue came down to how my group conducted themselves,” Shadow explained. “Those who wanted to pay for their own orders took out their pens and added up their totals on napkins, while passing the bill between each other. I felt truly embarrassed from the looks others gave us.”

“Alright, yeah, that might be going too far,” Obsidian conceded. “So you’re a bill splitter, then?”

“I wouldn’t consider myself either one. I’m happy if everyone else is happy. You?”

“Not that I do this often, but if I’m inviting someone anywhere, I’d pay for the entire bill.”

“I’m surprised to hear you say that, Obsidian. Aren’t you a … minimalist?”

“Hey, I may be cheap to myself, but the most disgusting you can do in a social setting is to be cheap to others.”

“Even in a large group? How can you afford that?”

“Whatever I save from myself can go to others. Besides, it’s not like I’d be out in large groups on a weekly basis. It’s me, after all. Even back home, I was considered … well, not anti-social, but somewhere near that. I can do the extrovert thing, but I don’t like making a habit out of it.”

“I guess I’d be the bill splitter,” Glare nudged herself into the conversation. “I mean, I know some ponies like to order a lot and split the bill to pay less, but I’m not one of them. Besides, I’m happy to pay a little extra if I’ve ordered more. In the end, I’m out having a good time. The food is just a bonus.”

The three continued to converse, swapping tales of their social lives. Shadow seemed to be an endless repository of anecdotes, though Glare managed to get a few stories in on occasion. Obsidian contributed the least, lacking more than a couple of appropriate stories.

Eventually Crissal returned. In one hand, he balanced a seemingly oversized round tray, while he set down the bread basket in his other hand at the centre of the table. As he finished setting down each meal, Shadow bowed her head at the waiter. “Shaan haaka.”

With a smile, Crissal replied, “Haaka Ya’terumdar. Please enjoy.”

Obsidian and Glare stared at Shadow. “I see I’m the only one who made any attempt to learn a few phrases,” the zebra remarked, after the waiter disappeared.

Shadow let out a contented sigh half-way through her last dish. “It’s nice to have some proper food every now and then.”

“What’s wrong with the food on Amarok?” Obsidian asked between bites.

“The food is fine, but after the first few months from a resupply, the variety drops. Not anyone’s fault, of course. It’s just that fruit won’t last long, and frozen vegetables lose much of their quality. What are you left with? Pasta, pulses, and spices. Which, given what I’ve ordered, is a little ironic.”

“You think that’s bad? I prefer what’s offered for the griffons. You’d be lucky to have supplies lasting more than three months,” Obsidian ranted. “I’m not a fan of the long-lasting ingredients. Lentils, peas, chickpeas, kidney beans, broad beans, black-eyed beans … I’m amazed the air filters can cope. I guess there’s always pasta, but still.”

“I’d have thought somepony would have included hydroponics equipment in Amarok’s design,” Glare commented. “I’m sure we still have enough space across the decks to set some up. What did we get instead? A couple of pools.”

“Those pools are more important thank you think,” Shadow explained. “They’re technically our main water tanks.”

Glare scrunched her face in disgust. “You mean to say we’ve been drinking the same water we swim in? Gross!”

“The water we drink is still potable. Reverse osmosis pumps, ultraviolet purification, multi-stage filtration. If anything, it’s cleaner than household water. Almost nothing gets wasted on Amarok.”

“Still, I don’t think I’ll ever look at a glass of water on Amarok the same way again. Why couldn’t the ship be designed with water tanks, anyway?”

“Well, we do have some on the utilities deck, as well as the contents of the water-beds,” Shadow pointed out. “Helps keep everything decentralised, in case of a hull breach. Though the pool is the first source used, so we could keep the tanks and beds as backups if reclamation systems fail.”

Pushing the half-chewed chicken in his mouth to the side, Obsidian suggested, “Hey, so why don’t we throw some seafood into the pool to extend our supplies?”

Shadow hummed. “Something tells me the crew would not appreciate getting snapped by crustaceans.”

“The pool is four metres deep. You’d have to put some effort into reaching the crabs and lobsters. Besides, I was thinking more along the lines of fish.”

“Still, you have to consider who’s going to feed them, plus the extra maintenance required to keep the water filters in check.”

“Alright, fine. Wasn’t a serious idea, mind you.”

“I do like the idea of hydroponics though.” Turning to the unicorn, Shadow added, “Why don’t you make a suggestion?”

Glare let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, right. Like anypony will listen to a Deckhoof.”

“I’m happy to suggest it on your behalf. Come up with locations where equipment could be added, without affecting operations, figure out how many crew would need to maintain it, and we’ll see if it’s a viable solution. You’ll definitely have at least one other officer supporting you. Lieutenant Azimuth is big on gardening, if the plants in our quarters are anything to go by.”

“I guess I could try drafting something in my free time. Who knows, maybe it might get me out of cleaning duty.”

As the night came to an end, Crissal delivered a raspberry sorbet for Glare, a tiramisu and cappuccino for Shadow, and another mango juice for Obsidian. Asking for the bill, the zebra signed with her room number and waited for the waiter to leave.

Turning to Obsidian, Shadow wore a hint of a mischievous grin. “So, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask for a while now.”

“Okay, shoot,” Obsidian replied, leaning back in his seat and taking a large gulp of his juice.

Shadow’s expression intensified. “How long have you two been together?”

The effect was instant. Obsidian exhaled sharply through his straw, splashing a bubble of the thick juice onto his face. Glare nearly fell out of her seat as she coughed up a spoonful of sorbet that went down the wrong way, attracting the brief attention of nearby customers.

Obsidian recovered first. “How the buzz do you know—”

“Oh come on, Obsidian, it might not be obvious to others, but it is to me.” Shadow passed the dumbfounded changeling a napkin, before continuing. “Before you start worrying, I’m well aware of the Navy’s stance on such matters. I don’t care. I’m happy for you both, and as far as the Navy is concerned, I know nothing. Now, details!”

“I, uhh”—Glare cleared her throat, coughing a few more times—“I guess it started back in Canterlot, after the Ghost Ship mission.”

“At least, that’s when things came out into the open,” Obsidian clarified. “I think it actually started after Enigma.”

Shadow furrowed her brow. “Oh. Oh, that explains why you were acting so strange.”

“Yeah.” Looking down at his glass, Obsidian stirred the contents with his straw.

“So that means you’ve never had a proper date yet, correct?”

“I guess not,” the changeling mumbled. “Can’t do much on Amarok, and it’s not like there was much time off in Canterlot anyway. Can we—can we talk about something else?”

Ignoring Obsidian, Shadow continued. “You know, Hiigara’s national museum is in the city. Why don’t you two go for a visit tomorrow? Glare loves her history, and from what I can tell, you are in desperate need of some history lessons.”

“What about yourself?” Glare enquired.

“Me, I’ve got a day of pampering planned out. The in-room massages seem popular, so I’m looking forward to that most of all. There’s also a pretty decent spa a few floors up.”

“Didn’t think you’d be one for that sort of stuff,” Obsidian remarked.

Shadow shrugged. “Might as well make the most of my generous allowance. I just tipped eighty percent.”

Obsidian rose and stretched. “That’s a bit excessive, don’t you think?”

Pushing her chair back under the table, Shadow waited for Glare to get up, before leaving with Obsidian. “I’ll still have plenty left over after our stay. I might just donate the rest.”

As the three waited for an elevator, Obsidian hummed. “I’m not sure what I’ll do with the rest of my allowance. Might send Void a gift with it, or something.”

“Who’s Void?”

“A cousin of mine. Closest relative I have. We were together during … never mind. Just need to figure out what he’d like. Something space-related, no doubt.”

Stepping into the arriving elevator, Glare asked, “Does he like jewellery? Could get him a necklace made of resource units.”

“I think that might be a little too expensive.” Pressing the button for their floor, Obsidian added, “Besides, he’s not a jewellery ‘ling. Necklaces are certainly not his style.”

“Telescope?” Shadow offered.

“He’s got one. Also, if the prices here are anything like back home, the necklace would be a cheaper option.”

“How about …” Glare paused. “How about some posters?”

“Maybe. Seems a bit lazy though.”

The voice in the elevator interrupted Obsidian’s conversation. “Sha seesee.”

Getting out on the ninth floor, Shadow covered her mouth as she yawned. “Well, at least we managed to see this night through to the end, unlike Canterlot. Good night, you two. I’ll probably see you again after tomorrow.” Turning away, she headed down the corridor to her room.

Obsidian and Glare headed in the opposite direction to their respective rooms. Hearing Shadow’s door close behind them, Obsidian spoke up. “So, I guess we can check out that museum, then.” Arriving outside Glare’s room, he added, “I’ll speak with Isak and get all the details. Will keep you updated.”

“Sounds good,” Glare replied, attempting to open her door. Realising her key card was inserted upside-down, she made a final, successful attempt, before the door unlocked with a click. “Sleep well, Obsid— … Obsidian?”

Looking around, the changeling was nowhere to be seen. Before Glare could investigate, she felt a pair of lips press briefly against her own. Shortly after, the unicorn noticed the door to Obsidian’s room open and close seemingly by itself. Blushing, she proceeded into her room.

After speaking to Isak over the phone, Obsidian read through the details he had written on a complimentary notepad found in his desk’s drawer. Before he could jump off his seat, the room lit up with a golden flash, accompanied by the sound of somepony teleporting behind him.

“Hey Glare”—Obsidian swivelled around in his chair—“I was just about to pass you tomorrow’s deta—” he stopped, sensing something new from the unicorn.

Glare wore the faintest hint of a smirk, as she slowly advanced toward the changeling. “You still have your NSU on under that disguise?”

Obsidian looked down at himself, forgetting he still had his illusory shirt. “Uhh, yeah.” Dismissing his illusion, his NSU came into view. “Wh—”

“Lose it. Now.”

“… Yes ma’am.”

28: Asaam Kiith'Sid (Part 2)

Glare’s eyes fluttered open in the early hours of the morning. Though the blackout curtains were closed, slivers of light could be seen along the edges. Glancing at the digital clock on the night stand, the screen read seven-twenty.

Feeling her head rising and falling gently while it rested atop Obsidian’s chest, she smiled at the sleeping figure. The changeling seemed more peaceful with each day since their Canterlot outing, and Glare liked to think she had contributed to most of that. The frequency and severity of Obsidian’s nightmares had certainly dwindled to nothing; a clear improvement as far as Glare was concerned. Of the few remaining instances they would manifest, a tighter grip on the sleeping changeling typically pacified him.

Pulling away from the changeling, Glare rolled and wiggled clumsily to the edge of the bed. Her hooves landed on the carpeted floor, almost giving out, before a stretch of every muscle restored some circulation to her limbs. Lumbering over to the bathroom, she flipped the light switch and commenced her morning ritual, taking advantage of one of two packaged dental kits beside the sink.

Obsidian woke shortly after hearing running water from the bathtub. Turning onto his side, he pulled the covers completely over himself, and curled into a ball. Knowing Glare, he’d have ten more minutes before having to get up.

His estimate was accurate. Glare returned shortly after, shivering lightly as she joined Obsidian under the blanket, her fur still slightly damp. “I turned the air conditioner off, and it’s still cold in here. Who in their right mind thinks sixteen degrees is comfortable?”

“Heh, well I’m at the opposite end of that spectrum. I like twenty-eight degrees in a room.”

“You sure like to be oddly specific sometimes, don’t you? Got a preferred level of humidity, too?” the unicorn teased.

“Seventy percent, though fifty is better for managing mould growth at my preferred temperature.”

“I … wasn’t being serious, but okay.” Falling silent, Glare rolled onto her back and spread her limbs out. After her coat dried, she turned her head toward Obsidian. “You know we need to get up soon, right? Wouldn’t want to keep Isak waiting.”

“Yeah,” Obsidian sighed, mindful of his morning breath. “You know, part of me wants to forget about the whole museum thing, and just stay in for the day.”

“You and me both, but I know where that’s going to lead.” Glare bopped Obsidian on his snout, before adding, “Would rather not be limping around Amarok. Somepony will definitely suspect something.”

“Good point.” With a dramatic grunt, Obsidian threw the blanket off and sat upright on the bed. “Alright, give me a few minutes to get ready. Should be able to get some breakfast before meeting Isak.”

Glare returned to her hooves. “Take your time. I’ll come back here when I’m ready.” In a flash of yellow, the unicorn disappeared.

After running a quick bath, Obsidian dried off and donned his NSU, pocketing his room key and allowance card. While he waited for Glare, he pulled the curtains open, squinting slightly as the room was bathed in light.

Glare teleported back shortly after, wearing the same jumper from the night prior. Catching sight of the changeling, Glare gave Obsidian a disapproving look. “You’re going out in your uniform? Seriously?”

Obsidian shrugged. “Illusory clothes are great and all, but I still need physical pockets.”

“Alright, then suit up. Conjure something in its place.”

Obsidian rolled his eyes. As the green flames travelled across his body, he watched the last hints of amusement leave Glare’s face as he presented himself with a full suit, monocle, and top hat.

“Really, Obsidian?”

“Alright, how about something matching?” Obsidian suggested, turning into a perfect clone of Glare and sticking his tongue out at her.

“Ha-ha. Wait, hold on. Turn around,” the unicorn ordered, her eyes narrowing at her doppelganger. “Is that what my mane looks like from the back?”

While Glare rushed off to the bathroom mirror, Obsidian settled on simply hiding his NSU with nothing else in place. After half a minute of hearing spells go off in the bathroom, interspersed with groans of frustration from the caster, Obsidian decided to investigate.

“Glare? What—” Obsidian stopped, finding the unicorn switching between mane styles.

“Perfect timing,” Glare whined. “I can’t get the style right now of all times. Tried going for the wavy shag look, but I can’t get the layered part right.”

“I have absolutely no idea what any of that means, but we’re going to be late. Your mane is fine.”

“Wait, let me try one more—hey!” Glare yelped, as the changeling dragged her away by her barrel. “Nooooo,” she called out, reaching for the mirror.

After a wolfing down an assortment of pastries at the hotel’s breakfast buffet, Obsidian and Glare arrived at the lobby. Catching sight of Isak near the entrance, the pair headed toward him. As they made eye contact, Isak pulled a small device from a pocket near his waist, tapping on its screen a few times, before slipping it back in. “Good morning!” he greeted the pair. “Ready to head out?”

Nodding vigorously, Glare’s enthusiasm was painfully obvious. “I can’t wait!”

Isak chuckled. “I wish my kids were this excited with … anything educational, really. Anyway, I’ve called our transport. It should be here”—he paused, looking out into the street behind him, as a gunship descended—“now. Let’s get going, then.”

Stepping out of the hotel, the three climbed the stairs to the gunship with haste to escape the noise. Obsidian and Glare proceeded to secure themselves in the cabin, while Isak exchanged a few words with the pilot. A few seconds later, he took his seat, and the vessel departed.

“I’m curious,” Isak started. “Why pick the museum of all places to visit? Not criticising your choice, mind you, but with all the other tourist attractions in the city, I’d have expected something else.”

“Like what?” Glare asked.

“Well, if you like nature, there’s the wildlife biodome complex, which contains most of the known galaxy’s avian creatures. The water park is popular as well. If you want something cultural, the Manaani host non-stop events at the new Ferin Sha, or Dancing Ground. I could go on.”

“I wasn’t aware of those. Shadow suggested the museum for me, so I figured it would be a great place to absorb as much knowledge as possible from one place.”

“Speaking of, why didn’t your commanding officer join you?”

“Something about a spa day,” Obsidian answered.

As the gunship left the towering skyscrapers behind, the pilot altered course and flew parallel to the northern river. In the distance, the river from the other end of the city converged, and the gunship descended toward a large complex adjacent to the confluence.

Obsidian and Glare barely managed to get a look at their destination, as the gunship made a final turn and landed nearby. Lacking the patience to wait for stairs, Glare’s horn lit up, and the three found themselves standing in a wide open courtyard laid with sandstone slabs.

Isak shook his head and blinked hard a few times. “Wow, now there’s a new experience. Might want to warn me before you do that next time.”

Glare blushed. “Ehehe, sorry.” Looking back at the white structure at the end of the courtyard, she estimated the building to be at least five storeys tall. Stairs as wide as the building led to a large entrance, flanked on each side by three marble columns.

Ahead of each column stood statues spanning the building’s height, each of a different person of significance. Additional statues lined the sides of the courtyard, facing inward. Obsidian immediately recognised the one to the left of the entrance; the female posing with an outstretched arm, just like the image on the back of his allowance card. “That’s the S’Jet woman, isn’t it?”

“Karan S’Jet, to be precise,” Glare clarified, while the group approached the building. “And that one to her left with his arms folded is Melarn Soban. Everypony in Equestria knows about him. I don’t recognise the others, though. And why are the first and last statues with blank faces?”

“Because we don’t know what they looked like,” Isak explained. He pointed to the first faceless statue; a man standing with his arms by his side. “That one is Laykab Jaraci. After a satellite malfunctioned and scanned Kharak’s surface instead of the solar system, he discovered a strong signal buried in the desert. This signal was instrumental to discovering the First City of Kharak, Khar Toba.”

Obsidian was confused. “Huh? Kharak was uninhabited, right? Meaning Khar Toba was your city. How do you discover your own city?”

“Khar Toba was built from the wreck of the only ship to … mostly survive entering Kharak’s atmosphere. When the power failed, its inhabitants abandoned it and journeyed to the poles to escape the heat. The location and its significance was lost over many generations.”

“Who’s the female to the right of Karan?” Glare asked, her eyes travelling to the statue of a female looking up into the sky, her shoulder-length hair chiselled to appear as if it was blown in the wind.

“Rachel S’Jet,” answered Isak. “Six years after Leykab discovered the signal known as the Primary Anomaly, she was the lead science officer of Operation Khadim. It was the second, and successful attempt to locate the Primary Anomaly. The expedition wouldn’t have been possible without the leadership of the man next to him, Captain Roman S’jet. For someone as tough as he was, you’d think he was Sobani.”

Glare hung on to every word Isak said. “Oh, that’s what Rachel looks like. But if she was on the second expedition, what happened to the first?”

“Operation Skaal Brii failed, after a collapsing sand dune swallowed up the flagship. As for the last person, that’s Mevath Sagald. Twenty-five years after Operation Khadim, she led a team of archaeologists to Khar Toba. She discovered an observatory there, which contained one of our most valuable artefacts—”

“Oh, I know this one!” Glare cut in. “It was the slab of rock etched with a galactic map that lead your people home. The guidestone!” Resisted the urge to bounce on the spot, she added, “We haven’t even entered the museum, and I’m already learning so much! Eeeee, I love it!”

Obsidian gave the unicorn a sidelong glance. “Never heard that sound come out of you before.”

Realising she had attracted the attention of several onlookers, Glare quickly grew self-conscious and let out another nervous laugh. “Let’s just head inside, shall we?”

Stifling a snicker, Isak led the group through the entrance. Offering to pay the admittance fee of the others, they soon found themselves in a large, round atrium. Several open doors bordered the curved walls, leading to various exhibitions, while flights of stairs spiralled up alongside the walls to the other floors.

At the centre of the atrium stood a display protected by thick glass, and four armed guards at attention. Inside, the cracked and chipped stone Glare described was held upright atop a pedestal. As the three approached, she looked up at the glass casing’s contents with awe, immediately recognising the markings on the stone’s flattest face.

“So that’s the famous guidestone,” Glare commented with disbelief. “I never thought I’d see something of such historical importance with my own eyes.”

Obsidian clearly did not share Glare’s wonder. “I thought it would be bigger.”

“Apparently it was. Nothing massive, mind you.” Leaning closer to a plaque at the base of the display, Glare read aloud parts of the engraved text. “… comprised mostly of vacuum-cooled sedimentary rock from the Angel Moon … dated to sixty-five-ten GSY … mostly destroyed by the Khar Toba crash, what remained was an ornate etching of the galaxy on the flattest face of the stone.”

“And a single word,” Isak added. “The only word common to all Kharakian dialects before Kushan-La existed. Hiigara. Home. Without the guidestone, we never would have known where we came from.”

Moored at Equestria’s orbital crew station, Amarok’s crew oversaw a quick resupply. Sierra supervised the loading and securing of each solid block of fusion drive fuel, stored away in the cargo compartments that bordered the hull on the engineering deck. Other engineering crew had been delegated to similar duties across several other decks to ensure all fuel had been accounted for and properly stowed.

While the engineering crew busied themselves, the chefs carried out their own inspections of foodstuffs loaded into hull compartments on decks closer to the galley, and medical crew tended to the receipt of infirmary and pharmaceutical consumables. Already fully loaded with torpedoes, weapons crew took to avoiding the sight of their superiors, out of fear of being given something to do.

During the resupply, Admiral Foxtrot made a surprise visit, requesting a private conversation with Commander Quasar. Seated in the Captain’s quarters, all Quasar could do was sigh after the higher-ranking officer finished speaking. “You couldn’t have picked a worse time for this, Admiral. My Infiltrators are unavailable, and you chose this day to launch an attack?”

“I’m well aware our timing is less than optimal,” Foxtrot agreed. He took a sip of coffee offered by the Commander before proceeding. “However, according to our intel, this congregation of Raiders will be brief. If we strike now, we can overpower them, and wipe out much their fleet.”

“Alright, fine, give me the rundown. Where are they, what’s our time frame, and how many do we expect to deal with?”

“We know they will be near the Great Wastelands in twenty-eight hours. What we don’t know is their exact fleet composition. Even if we sent in a massive fleet, it could turn into a slaughter. We’d be fools to charge in without eyes on the scene first.”

Quasar folded his hooves and leaned back. “I suppose that’s where Amarok comes in. You want us to jump in while cloaked, and survey the area?”

“Not exactly. We’ll be sending you in alongside Basilisk. Carry out your observations, then make a judgement call between your two ships. If you think you can engage the Raiders and soften them up enough for the rest of our forces to defeat, do so. If there are too many for us to handle, fire whatever you have in your tubes, retreat to our staging area, and we’ll call off the assault.”

“How many is too many? Between two stealth destroyers, we could take down an armada of frigs and cruisers. If this is indeed a massive gathering of Raiders, however, I’d need a list of all fleet assets involved in this operation, before I make such an important decision.”

Foxtrot slid a folder over to Quasar. “I’ve taken the liberty of preparing a briefing package for you. You’ll find our fleet manifest in there. As for opposition, assume those Raider battlecruisers are present, and that every other ship carries their new sensors.”

Flipping the folder open, Quasar skimmed through the manifest. “You’ve committed a lot of ships to this. Is there something I’m not being told?”

“Keep reading.”

As his eyes travelled down the list of ships, one caught Quasar’s attention. “What’s this? Vortex?”

“Mmhm. It’s the code-name for a cruiser-class ship we’ve been working on. A pure upgrade to conventional destroyers in terms of firepower and thrust, so the plan is to phase them out in favour for this cruiser.”

“By ‘conventional’, you mean the Hiigaran-designed destroyers? Stealth destroyers will remain in service, right?”

“Correct. We’ve relied far too much upon Hiigaran designs. Hay, even our Navy’s emblem is derived from the Hiigarans’. While their ships have served us well over the years, they’re not designed with magic in mind. The potential of our crew is wasted on them. The Vortex is only slightly longer and taller than a standard destroyer, yet the crew complement is slightly smaller. Next page has the exterior schematics.”

Quasar scrutinised the ship’s blueprints. From above, the Vortex resembled a nine-toothed cog, with the aft-most tooth twice as wide as the others to accommodate seven engines. Mounted dorsally on the other eight surfaces were twin-barrelled turrets, alternating between kinetic and plasma variants. An additional hard-point was located centrally, where a larger twin-barreled artillery turret sat.

“No ion cannons?” the Captain asked, his voice carrying a hint of disappointment.

Foxtrot laughed. “I wish. Puts too much strain on the power-plant. Artillery is safer. Though, we destroyed four prototype hard-points before we built something that could withstand the immense strain of firing that thing, but the effective range was worth it. Should be a hard counter to both Vindicators and Daggers, while remaining manoeuvrable enough to stay out of the firing arc of those new Raider battlecruisers.”

“Considering the flying saucer shape, full weapon coverage, and high output engines, I have to wonder what attack style it would employ. Artillery maximises range, suggesting circling the edge of a battlefield for long-range fire support. However, the mid-range kinetic turrets, and short-range plasma turrets have me confused. Are short-range battles intended to be shock-and-awe?”

“That’s right. Long-range is the safest option, and a preference. However, Princess Luna’s aggressive tactical preferences work incredibly well, if a Vortex jumps into the heart of an enemy fleet. Eighteen turrets means eighteen simultaneous targets. Those powerful engines then allow the ship to weave between targets. Inspired by Harmony’s battle in the Great Nebula. Outmanoeuvre your opponent, and it won’t matter how much firepower or armour they have.”

“Guess you can’t do that with a battlecruiser. In a one-versus-one encounter between two battlecruisers, the victor will be the one who fires first.”

“Exactly. Never liked them for that reason.”

“Looks like piloting skill will be a significant factor on a capital ship for once.” Quasar commented. “Speaking of battlecruisers though, will they be phased out too?”

“Given the Vortex can dish out almost the same punishment as a battlecruiser in a smaller package, there’s a good chance it will be. Can’t say anything with certainty, though. Some, like myself, would like to see our capital ship composition exclusively made up of Vortex-class cruisers, while others want to design something that replaces or upgrades our Hiigaran-designed battlecruisers with a crew of magic users in mind.”

“You’d still need carriers if you want effective strike craft support, though,” Quasar pointed out.

“True, which is why I’m in favour of re-purposing our battlecruisers into Harmony-class supercarriers. Their construction bays are just large enough to moor a Vortex for repairs or maintenance, which means fewer fleets would have to rely on those horrible shipyards that can barely move.”

“Yeah, that would be one less liability to worry about. Should take the pressure of our limited construction capabilities as well.” Returning to the Vortex’s schematics, Quasar scanned the underside, finding four additional twin plasma turrets around the edges, and another centrally mounted artillery turret. A hangar was also built into the underside of the left and right protrusions.

The Captain raised an eyebrow at this. “Wouldn’t have expected a hangar. This ship has some serious firepower, which means it’s going to have a massive power-plant. That explains why the engine’s would be so powerful. But to manage that on something as small as a cruiser, even with what I assume would be power shunting … it’s the armour you’ve sacrificed, isn’t it?”

“Mmhm. Part of the crew complement includes eighteen shielding officers.”

Quasar blinked. “What? You could protect eighteen destroyers with them instead, and you’re placing that many on one ship? Last I checked, we’ve still got a crew shortage.”

“We’re thinking of halving that number, but we first have to see how our new cruiser stands up to larger fleets. This ship tore through smaller fleets with frightening ease, but now it’s time to push it further.”

“I still think it’s weird you guys slapped a hangar onto this ship.”

“It was quite the debate, but we figured having immediate fighter support was worth it. Supercarriers are great for holding large wings of fighters, but they’re not going to be found in the middle of a battle if they can help it. That means there’d be unnecessary delays if a wing of Wraiths need to be deployed, as they’ll have to travel from the supercarrier, to the Vortex.”

“And considering Wraiths are simultaneously the most and least manoeuvrable craft we have, launching them outside the vicinity of their combat zone would be a disaster for anything they need to protect,” Quasar concluded.

“Exactly. Anyway, I’ll let you go through the rest of your briefing package. Get yourself over to the staging area, join up with Basilisk, then drop in on the Raiders. I’ll see you ‘round.”

Having spent an hour perusing Hiigaran exhibitions, Obsidian, Glare, and Isak explored the displays of Kharakian flora and fauna. Finished with the understandably small section of plant life, the three moved on to the animal exhibits, housing life-like recreations of the wildlife and their natural habitats.

“Oh, this first one is actually my favourite,” Isak stated, as the group stopped in front of a bird with colours and markings resembling sandstone. The sheer length of its outstretched wings, its tiny body, and large talons made for an almost comical appearance. “They’re called fiirkan. Those long wings allowed them to glide and remain aloft in thermals. During hunts, they’d ride the fronts of sandstorms, where the weather forced smaller creatures out from hiding. Despite their size, they had no problem plucking animals five times larger from the dunes.”

Glare tilted her head slightly, as she viewed the avian from multiple angles. “It kind of looks like somepony created a cross between a hawk and an albatross, then shrank it down.”

“Except the claws,” Obsidian observed. “Weird looking expression on its face though.”

“They look like they’re on drugs, don’t they?” Isak remarked, before the three moved on. “Oh, now this was a nasty one. The kudaark was a large burrowing creature known for three things; large claws, a nasty temper, and spines along its snout that could be expelled in a cloud of barbs.”

Obsidian examined the snout, where a vertical stub stood loaded with countless spiked objects. “You mean it grows natural air-burst rounds?”

Isak shrugged. “I suppose you could say that, yes.”

The impressed changeling hummed. “I like this animal.”

“You’d be singing a different tune if you wandered too close to its territory,” the Hiigaran lectured, hesitating before adding, “Or rather, you’d be too busy running and screaming in the opposite direction to sing at all.”

Moving on to the adjacent display, three creatures stood side-by-side, with the nearby plaque identifying them as triikor. The larger two were mostly identical. Continuing with the theme of Kharakian wildlife, their short fur matched their environment, and their four large paws barely concealed several claws each. The smaller one, presumably the offspring, had a lighter, fuzzier coat.

“That little one’s cute.” Glare commented. “Almost looks like a cat. Though, considering the adults look about as big as a tiger, I’m guessing they’re not as domesticated.”

“I’m not familiar with those animals.” Isak remarked. “What are tigers and cats?”

“Tigers are predatory felines, similar to those,” Glare explained, pointing to the adults. “A little stockier though. Plus their coats are more orange, with black stripes. As for cats, I suppose they’re a more generic term we use for the pets some of us keep back in Equestria. They look like the cubs, but the adults won’t get much bigger.”

Standing silently, Isak took a moment to process the fact that ponies kept predators as pets. “With respect, you ponies are weird. Bet this next one won’t be considered pet-worthy to you.”

Obsidian read the plaque mounted to the wall beside the display’s glass pane. “Skaal? Another predator?”

Isak’s sarcasm started to show. “What gave it away? The large claws, the scales, or the barbed tail with poison sacs?”

Glare looked up at the menacing beast. “Those things must be at least ten times your size! Your people used to live on a planet full of these?”

“I wouldn’t say full of them, but they were enough of a menace to journeying civilians and caravaneers, that they were hunted to near extinction. Or … Well, technically I suppose they are extinct now.”

“Glare, you speak as if our planet doesn’t have its own share of dangerous creatures,” Obsidian pointed out.

Folding his arms, Isak leaned against a nearby column. “Oh, this ought to be interesting. What have you got?”

“Let’s see …” Obsidian looked up at the white ceiling, before settling on his first animal. “We’ve got something called a cockatrice. Got the body of a snake and the head of a chicken. You know what those are, right?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“Now they seem laughable, but their stare can turn you into solid rock. Pretty easy to avoid one by averting your gaze, but a flock of them become a little more problematic.”

“So, what if you’re blind? Would they still turn you into rock?”

Obsidian shrugged. “No idea. Glare?”

“Not sure either. The scariest creature in my opinion goes to the manticore. I’d describe it as a smaller version of a skaal, but with fur instead of scales. The tail has a venomous stinger as well. Oh, and they’ve got leathery, bat-like wings.”

“I’d have gone with the ursa,” Obsidian countered. “The cubs are basically blue, transparent bears, larger than a typical house. They’re filled with starry markings in their bodies, plus a larger marking on their foreheads. The adults, though? One of the largest creatures I know of. A cub can easily fit in the mouth of an adult.”

Isak blinked. “And just like that, my eagerness to visit your planet has gone.”

“I mean, it’s not like you’ll see them rampaging through the cities,” the changeling repudiated with a shrug.

“There was that one time an ursa cub came through Ponyville,” Glare rebutted. “I remember reading about it in the papers.”

“I know. I was there. Turned out some travelling magician lied about defeating an ursa to look more impressive. A couple of kids wanted to see that themselves, so they baited a cub into town. There was quite a bit of damage as a result.”

“How did that magician take the ursa down?” Isak asked.

Obsidian snickered. “By galloping off in the opposite direction. Sprinkle had to deal with the mess.”

Glare snorted. “Okay, now you’re just calling her that on purpose.”

“Been doing that for over a year now, but thanks for noticing. Anyway, as for other creatures, you’ve got the bugbear, which I hope needs no further description. Cragadiles, which are amphibious reptilians with rocky skin, and maulwurfs, kind of like purple kudaarks, but without the snout barbs. I could go on with the list of predators.”

“You know what? How about we sit down and grab some lunch first? I want to hear about all of them.”

After spending an hour at the museum’s food court, the three continued exploring. For at least another hour afterwards, Isak tried to come to terms with what he imagined were horrors that coexisted with Equestria’s populace.

Even after finishing with another major section of the museum, the Hiigaran continued making the occasional comment about the odd creatures. “So what’s to say that a tatzlwurm can’t wreak havoc on a town?”

Obsidian laughed. “Are you still going on about this?”

Glare was happier to indulge the officer. “I suppose nothing would stop them, though I’ve never heard of one doing that before.”

Eventually, Glare, Obsidian, and Isak moved on to less prominent sections of the museum, housing artefacts, artwork, and cultural items of significance from other races. In an area set aside for the Taiidan, a pair of worn and eroded canvas paintings were sealed behind glass.

Looking up at the artwork, the one on the left depicted a fearsome quadruped, with a scaly hide reminiscent of cragadiles. Each bony leg ended with clawed digits, while its jaws sported fangs as large as its head.

The one on the right appeared more bug-like. Two raptorial appendages curled down from beneath its neck, and two pairs of legs protruded from each side underneath near the abdomen. The head was more ovular and elongated, reminding Obsidian of the horror movie he watched the previous day.

“Those creatures would be depictions of the Taiidan gods. The right one is the god of protection, Koshiir-Ra, while the other is Qwaar-Jet, god of pain and enslavement.”

Glare raised an eyebrow. “Pain and enslavement? That seems pretty macabre. Why would the Taiidan worship something like that?”

“Fear, mostly. Qwaar-Jet was also considered their patron god of war.”

“Odd kind of religion”—Obsidian shrugged—“but okay. Speaking of … Given that the Equestrian Navy destroyed your god, how has the death of Sajuuk affected the lives of your citizens? Or the rest of the galaxy for that matter.”

“Well, it certainly sent ripples throughout the galaxy wherever he was worshipped. Overnight, many followers gave up their faith, and others eventually followed. The transition seemed to go quite well, surprisingly. A minority chose to remain devout, insisting their faith was being tested or something.”

“Sounds like they’re just being stubborn,” the changeling commented. “Or in denial.”

“Hey, I can’t blame them. Sajuuk was a significant part of many people’s lives. Eh, who am I to judge if they’re not harming anyone? Now if they ended up like the Gaalsien? That’d be a different story. What about you two? You have any theological culture?”

“Not exactly,” Glare answered. “Some believe in an alicorn creator who willed us into existence with her imagination, and instilled in us the positive values by which we live, but there’s no sacred building to congregate in or anything like that. Those who believe in her are considered to honour and worship her through their positive influence on others.”

“I was under the impression most ponies just worshipped Celestia,” Obsidian remarked.

Glare shot Obsidian a quizzical look. “Worship? No, no, nothing like that. Well, maybe a couple of the really crazy ones. Reverence would probably be more a more accurate word for most ponies. I think the best analogy would be Princess Celestia and Princess Luna being our equivalent to Karan S’Jet.”

When Isak understood, he nodded. “Right, I get it. I assume that means you two would likely be the, uhh, Princess reverers?”

Obsidian shook his head. “Definitely not me. I’m not Equestrian anyway. Completely different species.”

The discussion reminded Glare about something. “Actually, I’ve never thought to ask. Do changelings have a religion, or something along those lines?”

“No. Most of us take an objective view on life. Considering how much of a struggle it has been for us, we figured if there was a god, or gods out there, he, she, or it is not worthy of our respect. Our goal has always been to just survive and make the most of things. Though many are open to the idea that some being might have seeded life in the galaxy, however. From what I’ve heard about Sajuuk, this seems likely, actually. But would we worship such an entity? No. They'd just be a footnote in our history books.”

“Fair enough,” Glare replied, before the three continued to the next display.

As dusk approached, Obsidian, Glare, and Isak were the last of the visitors to leave. Using half of his remaining allowance, Obsidian carried a large bag of unusual souvenirs. The first was a leather pouch filled with leaded darts, while the other, larger item was a shield. “Souvenirs for someling back home,” as Obsidian put it.

Reading the receipt, Obsidian hummed. “So ‘seejur’ is your word for a shield. This one of those words made from other words, Isak? I remember that the third floor was ‘see’, and there are three spikes on this shield. Does that mean this shield is called ‘three spikes’?”

“Actually, the most literal translation would be ‘three spike’, in the singular,” Isak corrected. “A seejur was only one specific shield variant, but it became the generic term due to their widespread use. Even our Navy calls your ship shields a ‘rozt seejur’.”

“Is that another literal translation? Ship shield?”

“Correct.”

“So what’s the deal with these raachok weapons, then?” Obsidian asked, while rattling the pouch of darts.

“Those were from the early martial period on Kharak. The darts were designed to be hurled in rapid succession. While they weren’t intended to be a primary weapon, they did force the enemy to raise their shields, allowing friendly forces to close in and get the first strike before the enemy had recovered.”

“So, more of a harassment tool. Easy to defend against, but leaves you open to worse. I guess I can see the tactical usefulness, but if you’re carrying enough of those into battle, I feel like that’s additional weight that could be used for better armour instead. Or a proper bow and arrows. Why was that not an option?”

“Let’s just say that Kharak’s resources didn’t include materials conductive to the mass production of arrows.” Isak responded, while simultaneously calling his gunship for a second time.

“Right, right. I don’t recall seeing any large trees back in the Kharakian exhibits. And not like you could make arrows out of all that sand.”

Watching their transportation descend from the steadily darkening sky, Isak was ready to try Glare’s teleportation this time around. Appearing in the vessel’s cabin, the pilot jumped, causing the gunship to wobble for a moment.

“Such an odd feeling,” Isak commented. “Do you always get that split-second headache and disorientation, or is it something you get used to?”

“Uhh, I don’t think any of us get either one.” Pausing to consider the symptoms, she shook her head. “No, definitely not. At least, if you ignore overuse. Might be something related to your species.”

After Isak directed the pilot back to the hotel, he spent the rest of the ride with Glare educating him on teleportation. When the three landed and entered the lobby, Isak bid farewell and split off from Glare and Obsidian to have a word with one of the receptionists.

Heading to the elevators, Glare and Obsidian entered one that was already open, and selected their floor.

Obsidian broke the silence first. “Well, I have to admit, it was an interesting day. Was better than I expected it to be.”

“Learned something, did you?”

“I guess. I think that’s enough mental stimulation for one day, though. Feel like watching a movie before calling it a night?”

The pair looked up as the elevator announced their arrival. Stepping out on their floor, Glare followed Obsidian to his room. “Yeah, why not? Anything good?”

The changeling shrugged. “Eh. Hit and miss, from my brief experience. I’m sure there’s something worth watching.”

Author's Note

For those who haven't played Homeworld 2 with the Complex mod, do it. The Vortex is an awesome ship:

29: Asaam Kiith'Sid (Part 3)

As the minutes ticked over to eight in the morning, Obsidian and Glare were rudely interrupted by the alarm clock. Shutting the device off, the changeling sat up, slouching as he rubbed his eyes. Beside him, the unicorn grumbled, her mane comically unkempt and partly tangled in a hoof.

Getting ready for the day, the pair left the room half an hour later for the breakfast buffet, and arrived in the lobby with five minutes to spare. Isak waited in the same spot as yesterday, this time conversing with Shadow.

“Good morning,” Shadow greeted, her tone unusually jovial. “You two sleep well?” she subtly teased the pair.

“Well enough,” Obsidian replied. “You seem spry today.”

“Let’s just say that I wholeheartedly endorse the hotel’s spa services. If there’s still time before we leave, book a session.”

“I think I’ll pass.”

Isak cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to be rude, but perhaps we can finish this discussion aboard the gunship. Security at the Daiamid can be lengthy, and we are slightly behind schedule.”

Obsidian glanced at the street outside. “I don’t see our transportation anywhere.”

“It’s waiting around the corner,” Isak explained, pointing to a queue of various flying vehicles parked alongside the hotel. “Little full on this side today.”

The journey to the New Daiamid tower was brief. With the hotel already deep within the city, the gunship only made a few turns to approach the centre-most skyscraper that loomed over the surrounding buildings.

The grand structure stood nearly one and a half kilometres tall—easily five hundred metres taller than those around it. Designed with the likeness of a stepped spiral minaret, each tier’s roof had landing pads, many of which were occupied by various craft, from vertical-flight aircraft, to modified space-faring vessels similar to the gunship.

Minutes away from their destination, the pilot opened comms. “Daiamid Approach, gunship sierra-bravo-whiskey, western point, six hundred, inbound.”

Though the passengers could not hear the controller’s reply, they assumed they would be landing shortly, based on the pilot’s read-back. “Cleared visual approach, pad four-eight-echo, sierra-bravo-whiskey.”

As they neared their touchdown point, the pilot replied a final time to the voice in his headset. “Pad four-eight-echo, cleared to land, sierra-bravo-whiskey.” After a scan of his surroundings for conflicting traffic, the pilot finished the final approach, gently touching down on the lone pad atop one of the building’s tiers. Cutting the fuel to his engines, the pilot completed the last of his shutdown checklist procedures, while mechanical whirrs and whines faded into the background noise of surrounding air traffic.

Removing their harnesses, the passengers rose, catching a glimpse of a security entourage from the pilot’s forward window. Isak did not seem bothered by the sight. “Standard arrival procedures into the Daiamid,” he explained, before turning to Glare. “Stairs might take a while to get here. I don’t suppose you could … you know …”

Glare nodded, her horn already glowing. “Sure.”

Outside, the four flashed into existence in front of three security guards, leaving the pilot aboard his ship. The sudden appearance caused the guards to flinch, each instinctively reaching for their side-arms.

“Oh yeah, definitely something you get used to after a few goes,” Isak commented on Glare’s teleportation, before greeting the guards. “Morning, gentlemen. Everything in order?”

The lead guard saluted, followed by the others, and finally Isak in return. “Just the standard security procedures for arrival. This way, please.”

Obsidian noticed the guards wore different attire to Isak, and the others on the first day. “Hey, Isak? What’s with the white and blue? These soldiers not Sobani?”

“Nope. They’re a generic security branch with a mix of kiithid. You’ll likely find Sobani guards assigned to small groups or individuals inside, however.”

“Like you with us?”

“Exactly. After you.”

Obsidian proceeded through a small archway, no more than three metres tall. Lights along its edges changed colours in different areas, and a shrill alarm sounded.

A guard approached with a hand-held device, and started scanning Obsidian. “Sir, I’ll need you to raise your wings.” When the changeling complied, the guard performed a visual inspection under each wing. Satisfied, he nodded. “You may proceed.”

Moving out of the way, Glare and Shadow followed, passing through with no issues. Isak had set off the alarms as well, however, the security team simply waved him through, after a quick check of his identification.

Isak led the way past security, and through the building, with Obsidian, Glare, and Shadow in tow. After an elevator trip and a short trek past a hallway connecting several small offices, they entered a waiting room with a large pair of doors at the opposite end. Beside them sat a security guard at a desk, inspecting identification cards of people in a queue, before allowing them to proceed. Several small congregations of officials were found elsewhere, filling the room with a soft murmur of collective chatter.

Isak turned to the three. “You can take a seat on those benches for a few minutes. We’ll head in soon. Just need to have a quick chat with someone before we start.”

“Ahh, Isak. No trouble, I assume?” a voice spoke up behind the group.

Isak snapped to attention, offering his salutations. “Fleet Command. No issues to report.”

“At ease, Isak,” Elohim Nabaal responded.

“You’ve brought together quite a collection of guests, haven’t you?”

“Believe me, it wasn’t easy. Taiidan, Frerrn, Equestrian, and almost every representative of the Galactic Council, all under one roof. Here’s hoping it will be enough.”

As Isak and Elohim walked off and continued their conversation, Glare stared at the pair, conversing by a large potted tree, before turning to the others. “Equestrian? Is he talking about us?”

“I doubt it,” Obsidian replied. “No one told us we’d be here to represent anything. As far as I’m aware, we’re just meant to answer some questions. Probably one of your Princesses are … uhh …”

“Everything alright?” Glare asked, as Obsidian started looking around him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just started sensing something odd.”

“Odd?”

“There’s someone nearby with great sorrow. And anger. Not something I’ve sensed for a long time. Sorry, it just threw me off a little.”

“I suppose the Hiigarans have more experience with those emotions than we do,” Shadow suggested.

“See, that’s why I got caught off guard. I’m only slightly attuned to Hiigarans. Still getting used to them. I’m certainly not familiar with the sensations from other species here. My experience is with those on our planet.” Pausing, Obsidian frowned. “Who from our planet could have such emotions?”

Shadow gave the room a sweeping glance. “If you can sense them, can’t you track them down?”

“No, not this close. If they were hundreds of metres away, I’d have a general idea of where they are, but at this distance, I have no clue. Obviously not someone in this room. If they were from our planet, they’d stand out.”

Isak returned before Obsidian could continue. “Alright, we’re ready.”

The group headed towards the large doors, and each presented their identification to the guard before proceeding. Entering an auditorium, Obsidian, Glare, and Shadow looked down at the dimmed room. Thousands of seats were arranged in a stadium layout, most fitted with small desks. At the centre was a podium illuminated by spotlights, suspended under several walkways near the tall ceiling.

Leading the group down a set of stairs between two seating area sections, Isak found a row with four vacant seats. After settling in, the Infiltrators looked around at the occupants of the room, all of whom appeared similar. Bipedal beings with four limbs and small heads. Beady eyes, pointed noses, and ears halfway down the sides of their heads. Where most of the species differed was in skin colour and texture, lankiness, or odd protrusions near joints or extremities. They were all clearly different to the Hiigarans who occupied the majority of the chamber’s seats.

Two exceptions sat further away in a different seating area. Obsidian immediately recognised Twilight, engaged in conversation with another Hiigaran seated beside her. Seated on the other side of that person was a teal pegasus with an orange and yellow mane, who did not seem as eager to talk. Obsidian watched the mare for a while, humming to himself.

Glare noticed the changeling’s eyes fixated on something. As she moved her head beside Obsidian’s own, she saw where he had been staring. Before Glare could say anything, Obsidian opened his mouth, “I think that pegasus is the one I’m sensing. Wonder why she’s here.”

“We’ll probably find out soon enough,” Glare commented, as she noticed Elohim approach the podium.

A soft pop from the surrounding speakers caught everyone’s attention, and most of the chatter died down quickly. When the room fell completely silent, Elohim cleared his throat. “My fellow Kiithid. For thousands of years, our people have struggled with adversity. The Imperialists. Vaygr. The Beast. Progenitors. Even ourselves. Yet one foe in known history has yet to be overcome: Turanic Raiders.”

A collective muttering of agreement followed Elohim’s words.

“We all know the stories of Raiders. We all know who and what they are, and the lengths they’ll go to take what they want. I’ve called this assembly today to unite not just our people, but those of the galaxy. Members of the Galactic Council, I wish to extend my appreciation to you and the representatives of our galaxy’s many races and factions for joining us today.”

Elohim paused, allowing the echo in the room to fade out, before continuing. “In the past, Turanic Raiders have been a relative nuisance. Though deadly, they’ve rarely fared well against a well-equipped fleet, statistically speaking. As such, they’ve mostly employed hit-and-run tactics, or assaults against civilian convoys with little or no defence. Since the events of the famous Harmony Campaign, we have seen a steady rise in Raider power, through their numbers, technological capabilities, and tactics.”

“It is only by luck that due to infighting, Raiders have never truly united. However, this has also resulted in such a decentralised structure to their military, that no one has ever been able to truly wipe them out. Perhaps then, it has only been their luck that we haven’t properly united to do so. My objective today is to convince all of you of this need, and to do this, I have asked for several members of both our military, and those of our allies, to provide first-hand testimony of the dangers we face.”

Looking up into the crowd at the teal pegasus, Elohim gave a quick nod, and continued with his speech, while the pony reluctantly descended toward him. “I would like to start with our allies, Equestria. A while back, reports of an attack against a civilian resourcing operation came pouring through, and the Equestrian Navy was the first to respond. It’s probably best you all hear this directly from one who was involved in the battle.”

The mare arrived at the podium and stopped beside Elohim, looking around at the thousands of eyes watching her, before Elohim next to her cleared his throat once more. “Could you please state your name and rank for the New Daiamid?”

The pegasus took a moment to reply. “Flight Lieutenant Lightning Dust,” she raised her voice.

“And what is your role in the Equestrian Navy?”

“I am—was, a Lightning-class pilot in the Sixth Solar Fleet.”

“From what I’ve been told, your fleet suffered significant losses against a Turanic Raider fleet. I understand this would be difficult for you, but could you please give us a summary of the Argon-Six battle?”

Lightning took a deep breath, exhaling shakily. “We were briefed, as if it were any other mission. To everypony, it seemed almost routine. Raiders hitting a civilian operation for resources. The only oddity was the size of the fleet. Why would such a massive fleet hit an installation with minimal defences? We soon found out.”

Lightning Dust could see several members of her audience scribbling notes as she spoke. Ignoring them, she continued. “The big picture motives were never clear, but the Raiders hit this specific operation due to the presence of machines that could move entire asteroids. Apparently the goal of the Raiders was to align them and create an improvised cannon, capable of using asteroids as ammunition. The nearby planet was meant to be their test target. Initially, our mission went smoothly. We've never had the numbers, but with magic at our disposal, that disadvantage was offset. As soon as we arrived in the mission area, we made short work of a frigate line, and waited for their strike-craft to come to us.”

The mare paused to collect her thoughts. “The plan was to make them aware of our arrival, draw them away from our objectives, and send Ninth Fleet to sneak around the back to capture Argon-Six, using the nearby asteroid field as cover. Even as we drew most of their Daggers and Vindicators away, things seemed to go our way, until the Rancor approached. As our ships engaged, I heard one of our destroyers over comms claim they had lost control of their systems. It seemed dead in the water, until it suddenly targeted the weapons of nearby friendlies. This was no accidental case of friendly fire. It was intentional, and caused by the carrier due to some beam weapon I had never seen before.”

“What happened next?”

Lightning Dust winced. Shutting her eyes tightly, she could still hear the battle chatter in her head.

Watch the beam! Lightning! Pull up!

I see it, Streak, I see it! Worry more about teleporting our flanks out of here.

…

You guys better figure something out, and soon. We’re barely able to juggle torpedoes and Raiders as it is.

…

Battlecruiser Nighthawk hit. I repeat, battlecruiser Nighthawk hit. Friendlies in weapon’s range, clear the area!

Solstice, Nighthawk. Systems show our kinetic turrets are targeting your engines.

…

All fleet assets be advised. Solstice’s engines are down. We are drifting. The Raider carrier is moving to intercept.

…

Confirmed visual on Solstice. They’ve been hit. Their comms are down.

“Lieutenant?” Elohim’s voice broke Lightning out of her reverie.

“Sorry,” the pegasus replied, quickly shaking her head. Taking a deep breath, she continued …

“What do you mean, comms are down?” Lightning barked.

“Raiders are jamming all signals that aren’t line of sight,” Streak explained. “With Solstice down, we can’t receive tactical data, or communications.”

“Would it have killed the designers of these fighters to include a line of sight transmitter, alongside a receiver? Dammit, we need to regroup. If we can’t use comms, we’ll need to communicate visually.”

Separated from the rest of her squadron, Lightning circled the edge of the battlefield. Surveying the area, she could see the Raiders’ line advancing with minimal effort. With unexpected tactics, it was the Raider carrier on the front lines. One by one, each Equestrian ship fell to the unknown weapon, its beam punching through their own shields and causing them to turn on the nearest friendly vessels.

The objective was clear to Lightning. “We need to destroy that turret at all costs. Otherwise, our fleets are doomed.”

Streak was more pessimistic. “How are we supposed to do that? Their strike-craft are just waiting for us near the carrier. Even if we make it past them, our rounds don’t exactly have stopping power. That turret looks heavily armoured, and we’re flying an interceptor. Might as well throw pebbles at it.”

“Then we’ll just have to chip away at the armour until we hit something important.”

“And what about our fleet? They’re just going to attack us as well.”

“I don’t think they will. Not all at once, anyway. Have you noticed how affected ships behave? Sure, the beam makes them attack friendlies, but they only carry out that one instruction, before needing new orders. They don’t have minds of their own. This suggests the beam is the medium through which new orders are sent.”

Lightning Dust squinted at the distant scene. A plan brewed in her mind, and she pushed her throttle forward, setting course for the nearest friendly strike craft. Closing in, she levelled off beside another interceptor and made several hoof gestures. Receiving a positive acknowledgement from the other pilot, and the two fighters split off to find more friendlies.

Within ten minutes, every strike craft that could be found had rendezvoused at the coordinates as per Lightning’s instructions, forming a tight wall formation in front of her craft. Ensuring every vessel could see her, the pegasus confirmed the other pilots understood the situation, and what needed to be done. With all pilots in agreement, they formed up with their respective squadrons and tracked directly to the Raider carrier.

The interceptors sped off, leaving the gunships to escort the slower bombers. Between them and their target, stood a wall of Raider strike craft. Lightning checked her sensors and confirmed how many were ahead. “Forty one Rock Rats coming our way. They’re gonna try to head us off. The eighteen Brigands behind them are the biggest threat to the others, Streak, so get me behind them. Then, we just have to dodge … twenty-five pairs of Thief turrets.”

“Oh, so just playing the combat simulator on a medium difficulty for you,” Streak quipped sarcastically.

“Yeah, but no reset button on this ship. Right, get ready. As soon as I fire on the Rats, flash us away.”

The ten interceptors tightened their formations. In the span of a second, they opened fire, spraying a sparse volley of slugs at the Raider fighters. Their targets followed suit, and a torrent of rounds zipped straight through where the interceptors had just been.

Emerging behind a Brigand, Lightning continued firing, watching the red-hot rounds tear into the two left engines of the corvette. Elsewhere, other interceptors provided equal punishment to their targets. Now caught in the crossfire of the Thief corvettes, the interceptors swerved, before teleporting away.

“Saw a few fireballs on that run. At least six down for the count.”

“Lightning?” Streak spoke up, while looking outside at their formation. “We started with ten interceptors, didn’t we?”

A surge of adrenaline hit Lightning as her head snapped to the side, where the tenth vessel should have been. “We lost one, didn’t we?”

“Your instructions were clear. Attack, then retreat to the bombers. I think we did,” Streak replied solemnly.

Pushing the thought to the back of her mind, Lightning checked her systems. “We’ve got another problem. I don’t know about the others, but I’m running low on ammunition.”

“How bad is it?”

“We’ve only got enough distance to do one more attack run, before we move to the next stage of the plan. We can do that, and a little more.”

“Make it count, Lightning.”

Blasting off once more, the nine interceptors closed in on the distant targets again. They repeated the same actions; one burst at the Raider fighters, then teleport. This time, the interceptors reappeared from above their targets, firing directly at the Brigand cockpits.

A metallic bang met Lightning’s and Streak’s ears just before they returned to their bombers. “Buck!” Looking out over the right side, Lightning found returning fire had torn off a small portion of the wing’s leading edge near the root. “You getting any system warnings, Streak?”

“Master warning for the starboard ammo hold. Fortunately it was already empty.”

“Yeah, I’m getting the same thing. We’re still in the fight.”

“Can’t say the same for another of ours.”

“Damn. They’re getting better at tracking us.”

“How’s the opposition doing?”

“We must have hit a few Rats with the initial bursts on both runs. I’m seeing thirty-six of them now. Three Brigands left. Our pulsar gunships will have to deal with them before engaging any Thief.”

The second phase of Lightning’s plan was imminent. The crew aboard the gunships and pulsar gunships cast their shielding spells, with the former tracking the enemy fighters, and the latter tracking the corvettes. One final time, Lightning fired a burst at the fighters, before she and the rest of the interceptors teleported with the bombers.

Leaving the others behind, eight interceptors escorted six bombers, flying past the Daggers that lacked the ability to track them. They closed in on the Rancor and located the dorsal turret. Flying a loose formation, the bombers attempted to dodge fire from the carrier’s point defence turrets, letting loose several pairs of super-heated plasma orbs before teleporting into their next attack run.

Meanwhile, Lightning and the rest of the interceptors could do nothing more than to conserve ammunition, flying closely to divert any anti-fighter craft that tried to get too close. With almost all of them occupied by the gunships, the interceptors continued to buzz around the carrier like a swarm of annoying flies.

Lightning had only looked away for a moment, but in that time, half the bombers were shot down. The remaining three showed clear signs of overheating, as their weapon barrels glowed, and smoke billowed from their plasma vents. The turret showed some signs of damage, though it remained operational, picking off a flak frigate. Seconds later, a flak cloud blasted shrapnel through the remaining bombers.

“Buuuuuck!” Lightning yelled, hitting the side of her cockpit and snapping off parts of various switches. Flying out of weapon’s range with the last of the interceptors, she set a course for the gunships. The pegasus hesitated on the throttle. “Where are our corvettes?”

“If the approaching Rats are any indication, I think we can assume the worst.” Streak sighed, and shook his head. “That’s it, then. Sorry, Lightning. We tried our best.”

“No!” Lightning cried. “It’s not over until it’s over!” Lightning made several hoof gestures to the nearest interceptor. The other pilot’s eyes widened, before his expression hardened. Nodding, he passed the message on to the remaining fighters.

Regrouping once more, the final few vessels circled around and headed for the Rancor. Ignoring incoming fire, they set themselves up for one final attack run. Each fighter went after the other in single file, as their pilots braced themselves.

“You ready, Streak? One final shot.”

Streak exhaled slowly. “One final shot.”

Engines blasting away, Lightning led the charge at full burn toward the carrier’s turret, and emptied her remaining ammunition on it. With their target dead ahead, and rapidly closing in, the pegasus firmly gripped a lever to the side of her seat. Pulling it sharply up, the canopy was blown away, and Lightning’s seat followed, ejecting from her ship.

Watching Lightning fly clear, Streak pulled his lever up. The black and yellow rod barely budged. Pulling harder, Streak looked down at the jammed equipment. “Oh … buck.”

A flicker of light barely left his horn, before the interceptor ploughed into the turret.

Lightning looked around. “Streak? S—Streak?” her voice quivered, while she searched frantically for the unicorn. “Don’t buck with me, damn you!” the pegasus screamed through her comms. “Streak!”

Off in the distance, the rest of the interceptors continued their final runs, with two puffs of smoke rocketing away from each craft before impact. One after the other, the fighters rammed into the turret, until it was finally pummelled into submission.

The last of the strike-craft were no more. Their occupants floated helplessly along the side of the carrier. Lightning screamed at the top of her lungs, tears streaming down her face. Between breaths, she caught sight of several Raider fighters manoeuvring about, each coming to a halt several hundred metres from the helpless pilots.

Lightning watched the Raider craft pointed at her. Blinking hard, the pegasus grew enraged. It was toying with her. “What are you waiting for? Do it!” She growled. “DO IT!”

The fighter accelerated. It was only a matter of seconds before impact. Time slowed for Lightning. Pulling her carbine out from the other side of her seat, she took aim at the cockpit of the rapidly approaching Raider and held her breath.

Ninth Fleet had other ideas, though. A gunship zoomed into Lightning’s field of vision, ramming the Raider with its shield, just as the pegasus could make out the Raider pilot. The gunship fired several rounds into the tumbling fighter for good measure, while several other corvettes formed a protective sphere around the stranded interceptor pilots.

Off in the distance, the rest of Ninth Fleet could be seen pouring out from the asteroid fields. Interceptors and gunships engaged the Raider fighters, while pulsar gunships targeted the corvettes. Bombers used the distraction to set up for their attack runs, not toward the Raiders, but to the subverted vessels.

The bombers broke formation and gave a single warning shot, firing once at each ship’s bridge. Hoping the occupants understood the message, they assumed formation and set themselves up for another attack run on Solstice. Plasma rained down on Solstice’s bridge, just underneath the dorsal ion cannon, until a crater of warped metal was gouged into the vessel. After a final inspection, the bombers moved to the next most valuable targets; the battlecruisers.

As the bridge on Nighthawk was destroyed, Solstice came to life, moving on its own and joining the bombers in targeting bridges on friendlies, while the rest of Ninth Fleet continued engaging the Raiders. Though severely outnumbered, the vessels that were under the influence of the Raider turret gradually returned to battle.

Minutes passed. Lightning could only watch, as the Raiders were pushed back, until a nearby gunship pulled up beside her, and nudged its way closer. The hatch on the side of the corvette opened, revealing a unicorn in a pressure suit. Undoing Lightning’s harness, he pulled her inside, and closed the hatch.

“Come on. Let’s get you secured,” he said, guiding the pegasus to an empty seat, before returning to the weapons station. “We’re not out of the woods yet. Star Shell! We’re secured!”

“Make them pay. You hear me?” Lightning shouted at the unicorn. “Make them regret EVER crossing us! And tell them Lightning Dust will come for those who flee. They’ll be checking their closets, looking under their beds for the rest of their miserable lives. I will come for every last one of them!” she shrieked.

Lightning finished recounting the events of the battle. By the end, her voice was barely louder than a whisper. “Our primary objective was achieved. The planet was saved. Argon-Six was stormed, and we seized control from the Raiders before the asteroid accelerators could align. But in the aftermath, we counted our losses in the hundreds.”

The chamber was silent. No one made a sound. No one moved. No one took their eyes off the pegasus as she stood there, barely able to maintain composure. The seconds that followed felt considerably longer for Lightning Dust.

Elohim finally spoke. “Thank you. Sincerely. I know it’s a hollow victory for you, but the people on that planet owe you their lives.”

“Are we finished here?”

Elohim nodded. He waited until Lightning returned to her seat, before raising his voice once more. “As we’ve heard from the testimony of this pilot, the Raiders have a technological advantage now. Unfortunately, new technology and improvised weapons are not the only emerging issues to contend with. I’d like to call Amarok’s crew to the podium.”

Obsidian, Glare, and Shadow rose, and made their way toward Elohim. As they approached, Obsidian noticed Lightning Dust leaving the auditorium. His attention quickly returned to the Hiigaran when he spoke again. “Please state your names, ranks, and roles for the New Daiamid.”

“Lieutenant Commander Shadow, commanding officer of Amarok’s Infiltrators.”

“Chief Petty Officer Obsidian, Infiltrator.”

“Deckhoof Glare, Infiltrator.”

Elohim turned to the zebra. “Commander, could you provide a summary of an Infiltrator’s role for us?”

“We are a small squad based aboard a special operations vessel,” Shadow explained. “Our primary role is to conduct operations outside our ship, including boarding and sabotaging enemy vessels, though we are trained and equipped to carry out other unconventional operations.”

“One such example of an unconventional operation would be your mission on the planet Enigma Tango, in the Karos Graveyard, correct?”

“Correct.”

“And what was your primary objective there? What was the outcome?”

“Our primary objective was to investigate the source of an unknown, artificial signal. What we discovered was a field laboratory hidden in a volcano. This laboratory contained unknown technology, later determined to be some kind of technological subversion or manipulation device. We found several Raiders working at the site.”

“I think it’s safe to conclude that the technology found on this planet was related to the beam weapon deployed in the Argon-Six battle,” Elohim remarked. “Of course, this wasn’t the only discovery made by your squad while on Enigma Tango, was it?”

“No. Another Infiltrator found a voice recorder. Recovering the data and translating it revealed that the planet once manufactured atmospheric deprivation weapons for the old Taiidan Empire.”

Elohim addressed the audience. “Members of the Galactic Council, as you recall, our joint operation involved bombarding every surface of that planet to ensure nothing remained. However, given that the Raiders were on that planet before we could get to it, there is a strong possibility they now have the means to manufacture these weapons.” Falling silent, he allowed the gravity of the situation to sink in, before turning to Glare. “Now, if I may back-track quickly here, this subversion weapon, this ‘controller’, if you will, saw use well before Enigma Tango and Argon-Six, did it not?”

The unicorn nodded. “That’s right. Though back then we had no idea what we were dealing with.”

“Could you summarise the events of that mission?”

“Our ship was responding to an emergency situation, where a large civilian vessel lost control and became stuck on a collision course with an asteroid colony. Our original objective was to destroy the ship from the inside, attempting to collapse the vessel in on itself to minimise debris. However, no matter when or how this would have been done, collateral damage to nearby colonies was unavoidable. A decision was made to sacrifice the least populated colony by detonating our explosives at a specific time.”

“This order was ignored,” Elohim stated. “Why was that?”

Obsidian decided to cut in. “I think ‘ignored’ might be the wrong word here, but the original plan did not go through. Out of curiosity, I went to the bridge and had a look around. Something did not seem right to me. Call it a gut feeling. In any case, an unusual anomaly was present there. I made the decision to destroy the bridge, which restored control to the ship through auxiliary stations.”

“This information was no doubt crucial during the Argon-Six battle,” Elohim affirmed. “As I understand it, one of the officers from Ninth Fleet remembered the event and ordered the attack on Sixth Fleet’s ships to regain control over their subverted vessels and turn the tide of the battle. Thank you. That will be all, for now.”

Obsidian followed the other two back to their seats. Half-way, he changed direction and headed for Twilight, before Shadow or Glare noticed he was missing. As he approached, Twilight faced the changeling, unsure of his intentions.

“Can I help you with something?”

“Your pilot. Where is she?”

“She stepped out for a moment. Is there something you—aaaaand he’s gone.”

Returning to the waiting room, the changeling found it empty, save for the guard at his post, and Lightning Dust seated on a sofa by the entrance doors. The pegasus sat hunched over, visibly taking deep breaths. Obsidian took a step forward, before pausing. Leaning over to the guard, he asked in a hushed voice, “Excuse me, is there a place I can get some air?”

“Take a right out the doors, then another right. Keep going until you see a balcony on your left.”

“Thank you.” Heading towards the pegasus, Obsidian cleared his throat when he stopped beside the couch.

Lightning looked up at the unexpected visitor. “You’re the changeling,” she stated with mild surprise.

“I see why they made you a pilot.”

The mare laughed halfheartedly. “Okay, I deserved that one. They want me back inside?”

“Actually, I was thinking of getting some fresh air, if you’d like to join me.”

Slowly getting up, Lightning sighed. “Not sure I’d make for good company at the moment, but sure. It is a little stuffy in here. You smoke?”

Exiting the waiting room, Obsidian led the way, following the guard’s directions. “Nope.”

“No one does anymore,” replied Lightning, almost mocking the fact. “Everypony is all about health this and health that. Certainly not gonna be the smoke that gets you in this line of work.”

“Why take that chance?”

“Look, I’m really not in the mood to listen to another speech on lung disease, or whatever, alright?” Lightning snapped. “Just tell me what you want, and be done with it.”

Obsidian did not reply immediately. After making their way to the balcony, he finally replied, “Honestly, I don’t want anything. I was going to ask how you’re feeling.”

Lightning looked away. She took out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes from one of her pockets. “Not something I want to talk about. If that’s what you’ve asked me here for, it’s going to become a one sided conversation.”

“You’re obviously taking the events of your mission badly, and given Equestria’s history, plus the way the mission ended, I doubt many would understand what you went through.”

Leaning against the balcony rail, Lightning blew smoke into the air. “What, and you do? What would you know?”

“For one, I’ve witnessed losses similar to yours.”

“Hmm, you would have, wouldn’t you? You were part of the Canterlot invasion, then?”

“Mmm.” Obsidian moved beside the pegasus, and looked out at the traffic below. “Never expected to assume the role of a field medic, or to see so much … I suppose it doesn’t matter now. Point is, I get it. Especially the part where you took command of the situation and set all those craft on collision courses. You lost someone, and that’s what hit you the hardest.”

“They told me his seat eject likely malfunctioned; that he wouldn’t have had time to teleport out.” Lightning sniffed. “I don’t get it. We all knew we’d end up as target practice for those Raiders after ejecting. None of us expected a rescue. And the others knew we were in a losing battle. So why is this such a hoof to the gut?”

“Because you gave the order,” Obsidian answered simply. “Because in the aftermath when you realised you had been rescued, you started second-guessing yourself, wondering if you could have done something else. Something you might have known to do, had there been more time, more options, more resources. But you acted based on the circumstances. For better or worse, that’s what you need to live with.”

“If your goal was to make me feel better, you’re a shit counsellor.” Flicking the cigarette butt into the air, Lightning watched it fall, until it was no longer visible. “Might want to stick to shooting things.”

“It wasn’t my goal, no. The only way I can make you feel better is to offer you a fake reality where you can delude yourself for a short while. That’s not my intention, either. I will simply say this: Anyone who tells you the pain subsides with time is full of it. You might not relive the events as often, but when you do, it will still hit just as hard.”

“Speaking from experience?”

Obsidian nodded. “I’ve never been able to fully shake the nightmares.”

“So what do you blame yourself for, then?”

“I often wonder who else I could have saved. Though in my case, most of the blame was always toward Equestria. That much hasn’t changed, even to this day, though I don’t find myself taking my anger out on any random pony who looks at me the wrong way anymore.” Obsidian shrugged. “Progress, I suppose. I still feel like wringing the necks of a few Princesses, and those Elements of Harmony ponies, though.”

“Heh, you and me both,” Lightning muttered.

“I didn’t expect that as a response.”

“Eh, mostly Rainbow Dash, that arrogant buck.”

“Sounds about right. She’s the embodiment of pretentiousness. Though what do you have against her?”

“We trained at the same flight academy, until I got thrown out for putting her friends in harm’s way. Yeah, my fault. Thing is, Dash was always so high and mighty about wanting to play it safe, but only when it suited her. Yet every time I read a news article that involved her doing something reckless, there was always some excuse to justify her actions. Oh sure, let me cancel winter because my pet hibernates through it. See what punishment I’ll get. She’s a hypocrite, and she lacks principles. Yeah, I like to break limits as well, perhaps more than she does, but I’ll own up to my mistakes.”

“Sounds more or less like the dossier we have on her back home. Though I always found it odd that the Element of Loyalty is not exactly the most loyal, or dependable of the six. I’d have given that title to the apple pony instead.”

“Dossier? You changelings spy on them?”

“We’ve spied on every key figure there is, whether military, civilian, or royalty, Equestrian or otherwise. Intel has always been crucial to our survival.” Pausing, Obsidian changed topics. “Hey, if you ever need to vent, and I’m hooves on ground, I’m all ears, alright?”

“Uhh, sure. You heading back inside?”

“Not yet. Politics bore me. Let the others sort themselves out. I’ll ask my squad for a fifty-word summary.”

Elohim Nabaal continued with his attempts at convincing his audience to unite against their common enemy. Members of the Taiidan Republic had been moving back and forth from their seats and the podium, as different groups were called to testify. With the final group dismissed, Elohim proceeded with the next part of his convention.

“Now that we’ve shared several eyewitness accounts, it may be prudent to provide another perspective. As many of you are aware, the Gaalsien have been attributed to the rise in Raider power, working with or leading an unknown number of clans. The Infiltrators of Amarok were recently responsible for the capture of a key figure in the Gaalsien ranks. That individual is now in our custody and with us here today.” Muting his microphone, Elohim turned his head toward a small comms device on his right lapel. “Go ahead,” he whispered.

Swift, Shift, and Sparky descended one of the stairs, with three members of Hiigaran security. Each of the six surrounded Khamari, who had been allowed to wear his original garments and respirator. Arriving at the podium, Sparky and one of the Hiigaran security guards continued to flank Khamari at close proximity, while the others moved to the far ends of the platform.

Elohim approached the Gaalsien. “State your name for the New Daiamid.”

Giving Elohim a momentary glance, Khamari complied. His breathy, modulated voice sent chills through some of the audience, reminding them of the Mad Emperor who once commanded the Taiidan Imperialists. Already, members of the Taiidan Republic in the crowd looked down on the Gaalsien with disdain.

Pacing slowly around Khamari, Elohim started his interrogation. “In the time leading up to your capture aboard the infamous Silicon Oasis base, the Equestrian Navy had undertaken several similar missions to gather intel on the source of Turanic Raider power. Unfortunately, due to operational reasons, the Infiltrators of the Basilisk could not make it in time for today’s assembly. However, the results of their captures and interrogations confirmed the existence of a large research base, responsible for the development of this controller weapon. Unfortunately, none of the subjects could reveal the location of this base, until now. You are familiar with the base and its location?”

“I am, and I wish to cooperate.”

“So I’ve heard. I was surprised when you informed our security of your intentions. From what I understand, you were anything but, while in Equestrian custody.” Stopping in front of Khamari, Elohim asked, “What changed your mind?”

“Not what”—Khamari looked up in Glare’s direction—“but who. Many of the Gaalsien are victims of circumstance. I do not wish to be your enemy, nor do many of my kind. Some turned to Raiders for survival. Some because they felt they were owed for everything that had happened to them. And yes, some just preferred the lifestyle, and are lost causes. How many generations will you condemn? How long before Hiigara accepts that our ancestors’ intentions were pure on Kharak?”

Glare looked around the chamber. There was a stillness in the air, yet she knew everyone had their minds made up before Khamari even opened his mouth. She sighed, shaking her head in disappointment.

Elohim resumed his pacing, ignoring Khamari’s plea. “You’ll forgive us if most of what you said was hard to believe. However, if you are sincere, your assistance would work in your favour. What do you know of the research base?”

Taking a final breath of the chilly air, Lightning followed Obsidian back inside, returning to the waiting room. As the pair approached the doors to the Daiamid chamber, the changeling glanced at the empty table where the guard once sat.

“So much for their superior security,” Obsidian muttered.

“Huh?”

“Oh, nothing. Just thought it funny that— … Hold on.”

Obsidian took a closer look at the table. At first glance, there was nothing out of the ordinary with the wooden surface. From the edge closest to the seat, however, signs of light damage were apparent, and a couple of specks of red could be seen.

“That’s blood,” the changeling commented. Touching the red drops, he smeared them across the table’s edge. “And it’s fresh. What happened to the guard?”

“Might have had a nosebleed, and had to go to the toilet, I don’t know,” Lightning answered with apathy.

“Not good enough. Look around the room. See if there’s anything suspicious. I’ll check this half. You check the other half.”

Inspecting the furniture closest to the chamber doors, Obsidian looked under and behind benches and tables, while Lightning did the same at her end. It didn’t take long for the pegasus to find something. “Obsidian? You might want to see this.”

The changeling flew over to one of the large potted trees Lightning stood beside. The deep blue, glazed pot was almost three times as tall as they were, housing a thin tree that almost touched the ceiling. The tree wasn’t the oddity, which was soon made apparent when Obsidian hovered at the same height as Lightning and looked down into the pot, at the lifeless body of the guard. Feeling for a pulse, Lightning shook her head.

Obsidian scanned the area. The room was empty. Silent. Looking at the corners, he found cameras, all of which had been obscured with some form of gel, or foam. “We have to alert the others. This looks like a rushed job, so whatever is about to happen, it won’t be long from now.”

Heading for the chamber doors, Obsidian opened them, passing through with Lightning on his tail. They skidded to a halt at the top of the chamber’s stairs, where everything seemed normal. A few occupants closest to the pair looked towards them with mild annoyance at the disturbance. Below, Khamari sat at the podium, flanked by a member of Hiigaran security, and Sparky. Elohim continued speaking, oblivious to the newcomers.

Obsidian extended his wings, and made to fly down to the podium. At the same time, his eyes continued scanning the area. He froze. Motion caught his attention above. Crouched on a narrow walkway up near the ceiling’s supports was a figure that held something in its arms. Pointing the elongated item down at the podium, its wielder held still.

“GET DOWN! ASSASSIN!” the changeling boomed. Chaos erupted shortly after he took off towards the mysterious figure. The occupants screamed. Many tripped over each other in an effort to make for the exits. Security teams sprung into action to defend their assignments.

A small flash escaped the muzzle of the figure’s weapon, accompanied by a short electrical hum. With its cover blown, the figure ran off, firing several rounds toward Obsidian, impeding his advances.

As the changeling evaded blind shots, the chamber lit up with golden light. The telltale sound of Glare’s shield was barely audible over the commotion, though Obsidian did not care to focus on what the unicorn was protecting. Below, Shadow could be seen vaulting over others, in an effort to keep up with the changeling. She soon disappeared from view, as Obsidian tucked his wings in and passed through a narrow doorway.

Incoming fire shattered nearby glass windows, causing the changeling to skid to a halt behind the next door frame. Peeking out, the assassin gained some distance. Resuming his pursuit, Obsidian galloped through numerous small rooms, some filled with tools and construction material, others with small workstations, until he reached a larger corridor. The threat was no longer in sight. Listening out, rapidly fading footsteps met his ears.

Extending his wings, he sped off again, closing the distance. The end of the corridor approached. Banking hard to the left, Obsidian’s hooves hit the wall as he pulled into the turn, leaving four hoof impressions as he pushed off. After another sharp turn to the right, the assassin was in sight. With one hoof reaching under each wing, Obsidian dropped to the floor, rolled forward, and used the momentum to propel a pair of throwing knives.

Two thuds echoed down the corridor. The assailant stumbled and glanced at two knives embedded in the wall mere centimetres from where his head was, before disappearing to the left.

Unable to outrun the pursuing changeling, the assassin headed past a doorway to more ceiling walkways above an atrium. Almost at the other side of the walkway, he wheeled around and took aim, waiting for Obsidian to pass through the choke point.

A mighty up-draft hit his weapon, and the unexpected burst of air sent the rifle out of his hands. Scrambling to catch it before the weapon fell over the walkway, the assassin was hit by another gust from his side, followed by another in the opposite direction, before tumbling over the handrail. A final gust slowed his descent just enough to avoid a lethal drop, before dropping unceremoniously in front of Shadow.

Within seconds, Hiigaran security surrounded the intruder. Obsidian landed beside Shadow soon after. “I almost forgot you could do that.”

“Were there any fatalities, I could have done a whole lot worse.” Taking a step forward, Shadow paused, as the assassin began to convulse. “Oh, he did not just—”

“He did.” Obsidian interjected, watching the figure on the ground foam from the mouth and twitch one last time before ceasing all movement. “Great. Alright, I’m going to go check up on the others back in the chamber. Let the rest of these grunts deal with the cleanup. You coming, Shadow?”

Leaving the scene to be dealt by the security teams, Obsidian and Shadow made their way through the building, back towards the chamber’s entrance. As soon as they were far enough away from the others, the zebra spoke up. “So much for a relaxing mini-holiday.”

“We attract trouble,” Obsidian stated. “And if it doesn’t come to us, we seek it out ourselves.”

“Which was it this time?”

“Eh, a combination of both. I went to speak with that pilot. When we returned to the entrance area, I noticed the guard by the door was missing. Bit of blood on the table. Cameras were tampered with. That’s about the time the chaos began.”

“Hmm. I’d be interested to know how one individual managed to infiltrate one of the most secure buildings on this planet.”

“I’m sure he wasn’t working alone. What did I miss when I was gone?”

“Elohim had Khamari brought to the podium for questioning, regarding the Gaalsien and their relationship with the Raiders, plus their research base. That’s about the time you arrived.”

Obsidian hummed. “Those two would be the only possible candidates for a hit. At least on the podium, where the assassin was aiming. The rest were our guys, or security. What do you think? Destabilise Hiigara by taking out their … what is he? A benevolent dictator? Whatever. Or silence a prisoner with intel?”

“Both seem like perfect targets, though the timing makes me suspect the latter.”

“Agreed. Someone would have gone to a lot of trouble to get into this building. I’m sure there are easier ways to take out Nabaal. Given that Khamari has been under tight security, I guess this would have been the last opportunity to kill him, before divulging sensitive information.”

Returning to the Daiamid chamber, Obsidian and Shadow found the place had been mostly evacuated. The few representatives who remained were surrounded by security forces, all of whom had their weapons at the ready and aimed in different directions, while waiting their turn to exit without trampling others.

Amidst the chaos, Glare, Sparky, Swift, and Shift were immediately spotted down on the podium. Khamari sat on the floor, with part of his white clothing torn and stained red. Elohim and his security detail remained close by. Approaching the group, Obsidian could hear Glare talking to Khamari.

“I know it hurts. I just need to apply more pressure, okay?” Placing more of her weight on her front hooves, Glare levitated a first aid kit closer, retrieving dressings and white bandages. As she finished securing the first roll of bandages, she heard hooves behind her. “Obsidian, that you back there?”

“Yeah, you okay? What happened to—”

“Shot in the arm. And I’m fine.” Lost in concentration, Glare continued wrapping another roll of bandages around Khamari’s arm. “Just give me one moment to … There. You should be fine for now.” Turning toward Obsidian and Shadow, Glare was relieved to find the pair unscathed. “What happened with the assassin?”

“He’s dead. Took his life. That weapon he used, though? Anyone know what it was?”

“It was a coilgun,” Khamari groaned. “Not something a soldier would use, but perfect for an assassin. Can build one out of common enough parts, and fire anything influenced by magnetic fields. No serial numbers, no paper trails. Makes them untraceable.”

Obsidian gave Khamari a look over. “Considering the lack of urgency, I take it you’re going to live?”

“The round was not fatal. Went straight through my shoulder.”

“Good thing Obsidian showed up when he did,” Shadow commented.

“Probably wouldn’t have made a difference,” Khamari stated. “Those rounds are usually coated with some sort of poison as a backup.”

Elohim squinted at the Gaalsien. “You seem to know a suspicious amount of information on this matter.”

“That person was after me, not you. Some third-party gun for hire, tasked to stop me from talking. Raiders have employed such tactics in the past.” Turning to Glare, Khamari added, “I told you. They wouldn’t have taken kindly to me being here, even if I hadn’t willingly shared my knowledge. All I’ve done now is put those Gaalsien who aren’t loyal to the Turanic Raiders in peril.”

Glare remained stubborn. “As that interceptor pilot said earlier on, it’s not over until it’s over. Obsidian, see if you can find where that round landed. Hopefully someone around here can test it for any poisons. In the meantime, we need to get Khamari a proper Doctor.”

Airlifted to a hospital near one of the city’s rivers, Khamari remained under guard, while awaiting the results of numerous tests. Reluctantly dragged along with Glare, Obsidian stood by the window, watching the water flow lazily by. All he could do was to count the hours down until Swift and Shift would arrive and take watch. While Khamari rested on the bed, Glare sat by the opposite wall and waited patiently.

After what had happened, Obsidian was not surprised at the security presence in the hospital. Four Sobani soldiers remained outside the room, plus another two inside, by the corners closest to the door. From what he overheard by another eight soldiers on the same floor, several snipers watched from afar. Though he did not get an exact number, Obsidian borrowed one soldier’s binoculars and occupied himself with searching for them. So far, he managed to locate one hiding in thick vegetation along the river bank, and another in a dumpster.

“Third one across the river,” the changeling announced. “Small apartment complex with the orange tiled roof. Missing tile near one corner with a muzzle visible.”

A voice on the soldiers’ open comms replied, “Hey, Jaan, if he gets one more, you owe me that fifty!”

“Three in two hours,” another voice replied. “I’m regretting taking on that bet now.”

Obsidian turned around at the sound of the door opening. The Doctor who had been assigned to Khamari walked in with a thin folder of loose papers. “Well, I can’t say I’ve got much in the way of good news,” he addressed the patient. “Since the bullet went through you, the amount of poison in your system isn’t as high as it could have been. All that means however, is that it’s spreading through your body at a slower rate. Lab results indicate the substance is a metabolic poison designed to permanently stop your body from producing its basic energy unit, adenosine triphosphate.”

“Can you stop it from spreading?” Glare enquired.

The Doctor shook his head. “I’m afraid not. There’s no known cure. Even if the amount of poison was small enough to not affect him fully, the damage would still be sufficient to rob him of sustaining basic bodily functions.”

Glare frowned. An idea quickly came to mind. “Obsidian, get over here. What if you transferred energy with Khamari?”

Standing beside Glare, Obsidian shrugged. “Wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“I’d rather be left to my fate, than to go through that again,” Khamari replied, his voice strained with fatigue.

“He won’t take anything from you this time,” Glare reassured. “The transfer is only from him to you.”

Khamari sighed. “Fine. Make it quick.”

Receiving a nod of approval from Glare, Obsidian concentrated. A brief stream of magic left Obsidian’s body and became absorbed by Khamari. “There. That should be enough.” Facing the Doctor, Obsidian asked, “The effects on his energy should be instant. How will we know if that bought him more time, though?”

“I could run some additional tests. It would help narrow things down if I knew how that transfer worked, though.”

Obsidian sat down and thought. “When you ran the first set of tests on him, did you check his levels of glycogen?”

“No. Why?”

“In my species, the transfer causes it to concentrate in our muscles. We have a high capacity for glycogen, but I don’t know enough about your physiology and ability to convert it into other forms of energy, so the transfer’s effectiveness would likely vary.”

“I suppose I can check his levels now, then again in a few hours to compare the difference. The scanner should still be free, so unless there are any objections, I’ll take him straight away.”

Giving a single nod, Obsidian watched one of the soldiers wheel Khamari away, with the Doctor and second soldier following close by. “Right,” he said to Glare. “I’ll call Isak. The sooner we get back to the hotel, the sooner we can forget today and go home.”

Glare grabbed Obsidian’s hoof. “Wait.”

“What is it?”

“Obsidian, we can’t just let Khamari die. We need to help him. You need to help him.”

“I doubt there’s any practical solution. Assuming I did in fact help him, each transfer will only prolong his life by … I don’t know, a few hours, to a day. I’d need to be with him indefinitely.”

“If that’s what it takes, so be it. We need Khamari.”

Obsidian looked into Glare’s eyes. He could sense the concern and fear in them. “What happened with the Daiamid while I was gone?”

“Khamari tried to explain everything. No one believed him.”

“And you did?”

“I believe he’s telling the truth, yes. He knows the location of the research base.”

“So he told everyone where it is, then?”

“Uhh, not exactly. He wanted some assurance first. In exchange for his assistance, amnesty for any Gaalsien who wants it, as well as Hiigaran citizenship rights.”

Obsidian rolled his eyes. “I’m guessing that wouldn’t have gone down well with the other Hiigarans.”

“Not even after Khamari told everyone that the Raiders know how to use the Progenitor hyperspace gates.”

The changeling blinked. “The hyperspace gates? As in …”

“Yes, like the one responsible for our introduction to all of this. It was only meant to be activated with Sajuuk, and the Hiigarans never figured out any alternative methods of activation. Somehow, the Raiders succeeded. The fact that they can navigate this galactic network explains so much.”

Obsidian scrutinised the information. “And how is Khamari relevant to this?”

“He can activate the gates. Long story short, he needs to be physically present for the activation and transition.”

“Seems a little too convenient. I take it no one believed that part?”

Glare shook her head. “Sounded too much like a captured soldier leading the enemy into a trap, especially since the jump would only work for one ship with this method.”

“A lot of unknowns here. Could be an ambush on the other side of wherever those gates lead, for one. Then there’s the question of whether a two-seater craft is taken, or a fully loaded carrier. Take the first option, and risk having Khamari escape easily. Take the second option, and risk losing every ship and crew member aboard that carrier. Not hard to see why no one would trust Khamari on this.”

“Trust is now irrelevant. Do you think such a large research base was made for the development of just one weapon? Khamari says the base has gone into the final stages of perfecting a stable hyperspace window in gravity.”

At this point, Obsidian’s concerns increased. “So gravity well generators, or hyperspace inhibitors, or whatever they’re called … They’ll be useless? Like the network surrounding our world?”

“That, and worse. What else has gravity?”

“Uhh, planets?”

“And?”

“Stars? Wait, you’re not suggesting—”

“Do you have any idea what would happen if an outgoing window were to be established near or on the surface of the sun, while an incoming window opened in a planet’s atmosphere?”

“Did anyone mention this in the chamber?”

“Yes. It was dismissed as science fiction fantasy. That hyperspace windows simply do not work that way. Others claimed that no ship would be able to get close enough to a star to initiate hyperspace, without being destroyed from the radiation.”

Obsidian exhaled slowly. “Alright, so what do you suggest we do?”

“We’ve got until tomorrow to commit to something. I’m going to do whatever I can, but if all options are exhausted … You’re not going to like what I have in mind.”

Author's Note

I'm alive! Finished moving back to my home country and got settled in a couple of months back. Had to finish off another stage of my studies, but finally, I've had some time to continue this.

Let's see if I can finish this before Homeworld 3 is released, and along with it, plenty of juicy canon that will tear this story to shreds!

(Screw it, I'll just slap an alternate universe tag on this story when that happens)

30: Hijack

“The guest you are trying to call is unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone.”

Obsidian slammed the phone down. Pacing once more around his hotel room, he contemplated calling Isak to find out where Glare had been for the last eight hours. A glance at the alarm clock showed it was approaching quarter past one in the morning.

“If I call him, he’ll know Glare sneaked off,” Obsidian muttered. “It would likely disrupt whatever she’s up to. If she’s done something stupid and landed herself in trouble, doing nothing could make things worse.”

Sighing sharply, he took a glass from a small shelf near the minibar and moved to the bathroom. Opening the tap in the sink, he filled the glass and downed the contents in a few large gulps, before filling it up once more.

As he shut the tap, he heard ringing. Obsidian left the glass and bolted for the phone. “Obsidian,” he answered. “Glare? Where the buzz have you been? I’ve—uhh, your room? Now? Alright, I’ll be there shortly.”

Hanging up, the changeling took his key card and left the room. Knocking on Glare’s door, he could hear voices within, silenced shortly after. When Glare opened the door, she motioned him in, making sure to lock the door afterwards.

Obsidian was greeted to the sight of the Infiltrators. Sparky sat on the furthest side of the bed, while Shadow occupied the seat by the table. Swift and Shift were on the floor with their backs to the wall, and mugs of coffee between them. Preparing a large batch of tea and coffee by the minibar was a pegasus Obsidian did not expect; Lightning Dust.

“What are—”

“For the third and hopefully last time this evening, lemon sparkly over here needs a pilot for something dangerous and stupid, and I’ve got nothing to lose anymore,” an irritated Lightning Dust interjected, her tone mildly venomous. “Tea or coffee? You’re gonna need it.”

“Uhh, tea,” Obsidian replied. “I thought Sparky was already … able to … pilot …” Watching Lightning pour water from the kettle into a wine glass with a teabag, Obsidian gave her a quizzical look.

“Do the maths, there’s only two mugs, and seven of us,” Lightning started. “Had to get creative with whatever’s in the minibar, okay? As for the matter at hoof, two pilots are better than one. Besides, there are still Raiders out there that need my hooves up their flanks.”

Obsidian couldn't argue with that, so he took the glass and moved further into the room. “Does Sprinkle know you’re here?”

“Who?”

“The Princess.”

“Oh. I flew out of the window in my room. As far as she knows, I’ll be there until she and I are meant to depart tomorrow. Uhh, wait, it’s already tomorrow, isn’t it? I meant tonight. She won’t know I’m gone until it’s too late.”

“Right, then given we’re all here”—Obsidian faced Glare—“I take it things didn’t go your way?”

“I’m afraid not. When it was clear that nobody would listen, I had to come up with something a little more drastic. I’ve had Shadow gather some intel for me, and together we sat down and thought of our next moves.”

Obsidian’s eyes fell upon Shadow. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”

Shadow swivelled her seat back toward Glare. “It’s your op.”

Nodding, Glare climbed onto the bed and took a deep breath. “In short? We kidnap Khamari, and destroy the research base.”

Swift and Shift’s eyebrows jumped up. Lightning and Sparky made no reaction. Obsidian blinked, as he tried to comprehend the unicorn’s words. “We what? Are you—you’re serious, aren’t you?”

“I wish I wasn’t.”

“Just to be clear, you’re suggesting something that could get us court-martialled, right?”

“Assuming we live long enough for that, yes.”

Swift and Shift shrugged. “Sounds fun. We’re in.”

“Figures you two just need your next fix of entertainment,” Obsidian commented. “You’re okay with this, Shadow?”

“The rest of us are in agreement, and I’ve known this squad long enough to trust each individual’s judgement.”

Giving the twins a sidelong glance, the changeling refrained from further remarks against them. “Well, you know I fully trust you, Glare. Let’s hear it.”

“Right. Well, since the Hiigarans cannot reverse the effects of Khamari’s poison, he has been cryogenically suspended. The pod is to be transferred to a ship bound for a prison outpost one hyperspace jump from here. Officially, we are assigned as part of security, after which we will return to Amarok. Unofficially, we’re hijacking the ship before it jumps.”

“What of the crew?” Lightning spoke up.

“No harm is to come to them. Incapacitate only. Soon as the ship is ours, we jump.” Pausing, Glare’s horn lit up, and she created an image that floated in the centre of the room. “The ship is named Er Khar Lamaat; Towards First Light. Four hundred metres length, fifty-two metres height, and seventy-five metres width at its widest near the top decks, tapering to fifteen at the lower decks. One hard-point is found atop the engine armour for a quad-barrel turret. Looks like anti-fighter or anti-missile.”

Shift analysed Glare’s image and visualised its size. “Chassis class sounds like something between a frig and a destroyer.”

“Correct, though crew complement is closer to a frig’s. The Lamaat is designed as a mobile refinery for extended remote ops. Standard axial layout from aft to fore includes an engine section for three crew, plus one turret operator. Hangar bay holds six ‘vettes. Five external cargo mounts are found along the spine. Three crew stationed in this area. Next section narrows, housing left refinery and right hyperdrive modules, with three crew patrolling between them. Nose section contains the bridge, with three crew. Two additional crew patrol connecting paths.”

Obsidian did the mental maths. “So that makes … fifteen active crew? Any relief or reserve crew?”

“Due to the short nature of the mission, and the need for discretion, only one set of crew will be aboard, plus eighteen pilots.”

“The pilots might complicate things,” Shift commented. “Fifteen crew between the seven of us is doable, but another eighteen? I don’t know.”

“Come on, we’ve taken down carriers and cruisers before,” Swift countered, elbowing his brother. “What’s a frig-load of crew compared to that?”

“The difference, I assume, is that we don’t intend to harm the crew or blow up the ship,” Obsidian looked to Glare for confirmation. Receiving a nod, he remembered something else. “Hold on, security is going to be tight. How is Lightning supposed to get on board?”

“That’s where you come in. We’re boarding the Lamaat through a civilian terminal,” Glare explained. “Lightning will arrive early and wait for you near by. I’ve already planned a route for her with minimal exposure to the public. You’ll need to meet with her, turn yourself invisible, and extend your illusion to Lighting, so she looks like you.”

Obsidian shook his head. “You’re seriously overestimating my abilities, Glare. Setting aside the fact that I can only hold invisibility for a few seconds, doing that while maintaining another illusion on something other than myself would be impossible. Although …” Falling silent, he looked down at the floor, deep in thought. An idea came to mind. He looked up again. “I think I can come up with something doable. Difficult, but doable. Just don’t count on anything more than ten or twenty minutes.”

That seemed to relieve Glare. “Good, that’s all we’ll need. Once aboard, find a place for her to hide, until the next stage of the plan is set in motion. Now since hyperspace modules can’t work near gravity wells, the vessel needs to both reach a certain distance from the planet, and be positioned such that the destination coordinates are not obstructed by sources of gravity. We have until then to stop the jump.”

Lightning hummed. “Not a lot of time to work with. What about weapons? None of us are armed.”

“If the goal is not to harm the crew, weapons seem kinda useless,” Swift pointed out.

“We’ll be provided with pulsar rifles, and shock batons. If any of you remember the stories from the Harmony Campaign, you’ll know what those batons would be useful for.” Pausing, Glare waited until everyone came to the same realisation. “They’re not going to feel too good when they wake up, but they’ll have no permanent damage. Once the ship is under our control, we thaw out Khamari, and let him guide us. Obsidian, you’ll most likely have to keep his energy levels topped up, so—”

“So have plenty to eat to keep my reserves up. Got it. Where exactly is Khamari, anyway?”

“His pod is stored near some of the crew quarters. We’ll keep it undisturbed until we jump.”

“How about surveillance systems?” the changeling probed for more information. “There’s bound to be cameras.”

“I’m reasonably confident they won’t have any.”

“Reasonably? That’s not good enough, Glare.”

“It’s a non-combat ship used in resourcing operations, with a frig level of crew,” Glare reasoned. “It wouldn’t make sense to have them. Perhaps maintenance-related feeds at inaccessible locations such as power-plant cores, but—”

“Let’s assume there are cameras,” Obsidian interjected, holding up a hoof. “How do we adapt?”

“Probably won’t matter anyway. We hit the bridge first. Since non-combat ships don’t have command centres, the only place for central surveillance would have to be the bridge. Once that section is neutralised, cameras become irrelevant. Which brings me to the specifics of our takeover. We’re going to go through this as many times as it takes to commit every detail to memory, so get comfortable.”

Setting the gunship down beside an entrance to the terminal, the pilot awaited arrival of stairs, while Shadow and Glare put their side bags on. Looking outside, Obsidian and Isak caught a glimpse of the sunset directly ahead, as the red and orange hues shone through the distant clouds. Stuffing another muesli bar into his mouth, the changeling rose, slinging his bag of Void’s souvenirs onto his back.

“All clear,” the pilot announced, flipping the door control switch. “Take care.”

Isak led the three down, finding Swift, Shift, and Sparky already waiting by the entrance with their own guard, who exchanged nods with Isak.

“Looks like we won the race,” Shift stated smugly.

“I wasn’t aware there was one,” Isak chuckled, before turning to his three assignments. “Well, this is where I’ll have to leave you. Despite recent events, it was a pleasure working with you. I hope we’ll meet under better circumstances, but until then, safe stars.”

After saying their goodbyes, the Infiltrators waited until Isak and the other guard returned to their gunships, before Obsidian leaned over to Shadow. “Did you manage to take it?”

Pulling Isak’s ID card out of a pocket, Shadow passed it to Obsidian discretely. Pocketing the card, Obsidian pulled out another snack; this time, jerky. From what animal, he was unsure. “We’d better hurry, before Isak catches on.”

The sliding glass doors parted as the group entered the terminal. A short distance away, a row of check-in desks spanned as far as the eye could see in each direction, though many were unmanned. A giant information board was mounted above the desks, displaying details for vessels and their journeys, plus allocated gates and check-in desks.

Obsidian’s eyes landed on the row displaying Er Khar Lamaat’s information. “There. Desks eighty-nine and ninety.”

In the distance, the group sighted two open desks with military personnel behind the counters, and four soldiers waiting in a queue. By the time the Infiltrators arrived, the queue had disappeared, and each presented their identification documents at the counters. In less than five minutes, all six were issued a pass with their gate number printed on them.

Checking the signs, the Infiltrators took a short detour to a nearby public toilet. Leaving his bag, Obsidian split off and entered, finding the place empty, save for one occupant in a closed cubicle at the far end. Moving towards a sink, he proceeded to wash his hooves, and began to whistle a tune lightly.

After the eighth note, Obsidian paused. Another eight notes met his ears from the cubicle. Shutting the tap and drying his hooves, he made his way to the cubicle, knocking twice on the door. “Lightning?” he whispered. “All clear.”

Lightning unlocked the door, and Obsidian squeezed into the confined space. “Seriously?” the pegasus started in a hushed tone. “Of all the tunes Glare could pick, it was Winter Wrap Up? What a filly.”

“Let’s just do this quickly. As soon as I cast the spell, the clock is ticking. Here’s my pass. I’ve got one bag you need to take with you. Stick close to me, and give me some sort of cue if you’re about to do something. Stopping, flying, sneezing, talking, whatever.”

“What kind of cue?”

“Clear your throat. Or better yet, a quick sniff. A believable illusion requires the spell to be as synchronised to your movements as possible. Ready?”

“Yeah, do it.”

Obsidian closed his eyes. Straining, he cast his spell at Lightning, who soon turned into a mirror image of Obsidian. Another spell later, Obsidian turned into Isak. “There. Now let’s go, before the spell becomes unstable.”

Remaining close, Obsidian and Lightning regrouped with the Infiltrators. Moving through the terminal at a brisk pace, they arrived at a security checkpoint. Except for Obsidian, each presented their passes, and deposited their bags on a conveyor belt that passed through a scanner. One by one, the Infiltrators proceeded through the adjacent archway, until Lightning and Obsidian were left. The changeling waited as close as possible beside the arch, as Lightning proceeded through. Feeling the illusion on Lightning slip away, Obsidian passed through with haste. Before the group could proceed, one of the guards stopped them.

“Sir?” The nearest guard raised his voice at Obsidian. “I’ll need to see your pass, too.”

Obsidian displayed Isak’s identification to the guard instead. “I will not be joining the others aboard the vessel. I’m here only to escort them to the gate and see them off.”

“That won’t be necessary, sir. I’ll have a member of terminal security escort them for you.”

“With respect, I have watched over this group since their arrival. My orders were, and still are, to act as their personal guard for the duration of their stay on Hiigara. If you wish to send someone to accompany us, I will not object, but I take my orders seriously.”

A tense silence followed. The guard hesitated, before double-checking the ID card. “I understand. Don’t let me keep you, sir.”

“Thank you.” Turning away, Obsidian led the others through the rest of the terminal. Out of earshot, he commented, “That could have gone bad if I had to stay behind.”

“Well, so far so good,” Glare commented. Glancing around, she added, “Let’s get a quick check on left comms while no one is looking.”

The seven tested transmission and reception of the comms in their left ears, leaving those in the right for use with the Lamaat’s crew. Obsidian was the last to finish his comm check. “Reading five by five. Also, we might want to hurry. Getting harder to maintain this spell.”

Picking up their pace again, the group took advantage of several travelators, until they found their gate number. Several guards flanked the entrance to the vessel’s gangway, and snapped to attention upon sighting the Infiltrators. Allowing the group to proceed, the seven continued down the small tunnel, until they reached the entrance to the ship. Two crew stood guard by the airlock.

Obsidian approached the pair, saluting the higher ranking member. “Isak Soban. Here to deliver the Infiltrators.”

“Documentation?” came the officer’s terse reply.

Obsidian presented Isak’s ID again, and the rest displayed their passes. Satisfied, the officer nodded. “Ren Somtaaw, ship’s XO. Captain Raab Manaan is currently busy on the bridge. It’s likely most of you won’t see him for the mission. I’m sure he’ll want to depart early, so I’d like to get started right away.”

“Uhh, before we do, I’m not feeling too well,” Lightning made her best impression of Obsidian’s voice. “Do you have a toilet near by?”

Ren rolled his eyes. “Aft, down the first corridor. Third compartment on your right. Ensign Lance Nabaal will escort you.”

“I might accompany him,” Obsidian spoke up. “If he’s not fit for duty, I’ll escort him back.”

“Very well. I’ll inform the Captain. The rest of you can stow your bags in the stowages just behind me.”

Obsidian turned to Glare. “Deckhoof? You mind following me, in case he needs assistance?”

“Sure.” Removing her bag, the unicorn looked up at Sparky. “Do you mind taking this for me? Maybe Obsidian’s as well?”

Lightning stopped. “Oh, right. Thanks.” Passing Obsidian’s bag to Sparky, she stepped aboard, followed by Obsidian and Glare.

The three followed the Ensign through a short airlock, before turning right toward the ship’s aft. Leaving the rest of the Infiltrators behind, they moved down a narrow walkway and several cross-aisles, eventually stopping outside a compartment labelled ‘Lavatory’ on the door. With his illusion motioning towards the door, Obsidian said, “We’ll be outside if you need anything.”

Nodding, Glare followed Lightning inside and closed the door. Far enough away from Obsidian, Lightning lost her disguise and started looking around, sighting a toilet ahead, a shower in the furthest corner, and a wide sink and counter top in the closest corner. “Alright, what can we use in here?” she whispered. “Less than ten square metres to work with.”

“Let me check those ceiling panels,” Glare offered. Lighting up her horn, she carefully unfastened the panels lining the ceiling, ensuring no noise was made. Revealing pipes and cables behind the panelling, Glare hummed. “It’s a tight fit, but I can get you up there.”

“You want me to go there? Are you serious?” Lightning hissed.

Glare looked around some more. A large hole was cut into one end of the counter, with what appeared to be a waste bin hidden underneath it. Opening the door under the counter to confirm, she looked back at Lightning. “Option B.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Ceiling, or bin. Hurry up and pick.”

“Fine, I’ll go for the bin.”

Securing the ceiling panel, Glare removed the bin from its compartment and levitated Lightning inside. With the pegasus’ legs tucked in, she barely managed to fit. As Glare lifted the bin and moved it back into place, Lightning grumbled. “This is ridiculous. You know how stupid this looks?”

“It’s going to look worse in a moment,” Glare remarked, taking large amounts of paper towels and scrunching them up. Dumping them through the counter’s hole and onto Lightning’s head, Glare continued until the pegasus was no longer visible.

“I hate this mission already,” Lightning protested.

“Welcome to the Infiltrators,” came Glare’s nonchalant reply. Moving to the door, she poked her head out. “Obsidian will be fine. Minor case of food poisoning. Probably not used to the food on this planet. His species recovers from it in minutes though, so the mission won’t be affected.”

Obsidian turned to Lance. “That’s good enough for me. I won’t take up any more of your time, then. Safe stars to you all.”

“And to you, too,” the Ensign replied, escorting Obsidian to the door. He watched as Obsidian ascended the gangway, until he was no longer in sight, then turned to Ren. “Cleared to proceed?”

Ren opened his comms. “Captain, all personnel aboard, and ground staff have disembarked. Permission to close final door?”

Passing the guards at the beginning of the gangway, Obsidian moved out of sight and hid behind a large column. Dropping his disguise, he cast his invisibility spell, and shot through the air, down the gangway. Ahead, the doors to the ship started to close. The changeling’s wings beat faster, and harder. The door shut faster than Obsidian could close the distance, and he came to a halt just short of the hull.

Ahh, buzz me! Obsidian opened left comms. “Glare! Glare! We’ve got a problem!”

“Where are you, Obsidian?”

“They closed the door on me. I’m at the end of the gangway.”

“Hold on, I’ll be there in a moment.”

Flashing into view behind Obsidian, Glare found the changeling returning to opacity as his spell wore off. In another flash, the pair reappeared in the ship’s lavatory.

Obsidian lowered his voice. “Thanks. What did you end up doing with Lightning?”

“Take a guess,” Lightning’s muffled voice came from the bin.

Bemused, Obsidian shrugged. “That works. Alright, let’s get this over with.” Emerging from the toilet, Lance stood waiting for the pair. “Feeling better. Ready to begin.”

Lance eyed the pair. “What was that noise in there?”

“Magic,” Obsidian answered. “I … had a gastric episode. Those were the sounds of the Deckhoof cleaning it up.”

“Twice?”

“Yeah” Obsidian continued with the lie. “I missed the first two times. Look, I’m fine. I won’t compromise the mission, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“If you say so. Before I give you your assignments, you’ve been briefed on the mission, correct?”

“Depart planet, jump to outpost, deliver the cargo, meet up with Amarok,” Obsidian paraphrased the official briefing.

“Good. You’ve been assigned where we think your strengths would work best, so Deckhoof, you’ll be on the bridge. Chief, you’re in engineering.”

“What about the others?” Glare enquired.

“We’ve sent the Commander to the modules, and the Lieutenant to the hangar. As for the Specialists, they’ll stick with one of our two guys on random patrol. Once you get to your stations, one of our crew will provide you with your weapons. I’m told our weapon models are still usable for your species.”

Before the changeling or unicorn could answer, a ship-wide tone was emitted from the overhead speakers. “This is the Captain. All hands, to your stations. Departure in five minutes.”

“Deckhoof, I’m heading to the bridge myself. Follow me,” Lance ordered. “Chief, you’ll find floor and ceiling markers that will lead you to engineering.”

Nodding, Obsidian turned and followed the appropriate markings at a trot. Reaching the end of the modules section, he climbed stairs up two decks and proceeded down the top-most deck of the hangar bay, passing Sparky along the way. Descending through the decks at the aft end, Obsidian arrived in time to meet the crew, and hear the drives powering up.

With all gangways, cables, and restraints separated and clear of the hull, manoeuvring thrusters fired, and the ship levitated a few metres above the ground. Dusty whirlwinds blinked in and out of existence, diffusing into the atmosphere, as the vessel backed away and turned to approach the designated lift-off point.

Main engines blasted away. Slowly, but surely, the ship’s velocity and altitude increased at a steady rate. Each Infiltrator set a half-hour mental countdown, estimating the time it would take to reach a high enough orbit to initiate hyperspace, and started their patrols.

Having received a pulsar rifle and shock baton from one of the engineering crew, Obsidian first paced around the inner engineering compartment. The fusion power-plants were easily a quarter the size of Amarok’s own, mounted horizontally instead of vertically. After spending so much time aboard the stealth destroyer, moving about on a vessel fitted with artificial gravity, inertial dampeners, and longitudinally spanning decks almost felt disorienting.

Two minutes had passed. The changeling expanded his patrol of the engineering decks to nearby surrounding areas. Bridge, hangar, modules, engineering, corridors, he repeated the order in which the crew were to be subdued, while anxiously waiting for his left comms to be keyed in a specific pattern.

Another two minutes passed. Obsidian’s left ear twitched, as two short bursts of static became audible, followed by a single short burst. Bridge down. Adjusting his patrol route, the changeling anticipated the estimated time he’d need to be in the correct position to do his part.

“Status report, fore to aft,” Glare’s voice came through the right comms at the fifth minute. One by one, all crew replied in the requested order. Obsidian and the engineers were the last to report no activity, before the comms went silent.

Five more minutes in, two short bursts, followed by another pair were heard. Sparky had secured the hangar section. Obsidian adjusted his patrol route in anticipation for his part, and noted the pattern of the other crew’s patrol. Passing by the engine control centre, he confirmed the two operators were still in place.

Mere three minutes later, two bursts, followed by three, met Obsidian’s left ear. Shadow works fast. Travelling along the upper engineering decks, the changeling headed aft, toward the turret control station. He locked eyes with the operator, and they acknowledged each other with a wordless nod.

Obsidian came to a halt beside the seated operator. “Everything fine over here?”

“Affirmative, Chie—”

The sound of a whip cracking followed, and Obsidian grimaced as he lashed the back of the operator’s head with his left wing. His victim keeled over onto the floor, and the changeling wasted no time in moving the unconscious sailor out of sight. Tearing off part of the soldier’s uniform, Obsidian restrained the wrists and ankles, double-checking the bindings were secure, before heading off to find the other guard patrolling the area. Finding the isolated soldier, Obsidian dispatched him quickly, gliding in silently from behind. Leaving him restrained, the changeling headed for the engine compartment.

Entering, Obsidian found the operators still glued to their stations. “Anything to report?”

“Nope.”

“Negative.”

Moving to a console between the two operators, Obsidian feigned interest in something on the screen. “Hey, guys? Is that a normal reading?” he called out, while pointing at a wall of digital gauges.

The first operator arrived first, bending over slightly to inspect the readouts. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” Obsidian answered. “There’s nothing out of the ordinary with anything on the screen?”

The second operator moved closer, squinting at the display. “Nnnnno? Seems fine to m—”

Two simultaneous whip cracks echoed, followed by bodies hitting the floor. Flapping his wings slowly, Obsidian tried to dissipate the pain. That’s going to leave some bruises. Tying down the crew, Obsidian keyed his left comms twice, then four times. Picking up the nearest crew member, he flew across the decks to a specific airlock near the hangar bay. Upon arrival, he found Sparky waiting by three other unconscious crew. “Twenty-five minutes in. No issues so far?”

“No. Drop your crew here. I’ll keep watch.”

Nodding, Obsidian left the engineer by the others. One by one, he retrieved the others, until seven bodies were lined up beside each other on one side of the floor. As he finished, the two-five comms burst was heard.

Glare’s voice followed. “This ship is ours. You can proceed with the next phase. Get those bodies to the airlocks, and quickly. Lightning? Sparky? Whoever is closest, I’ll need some help piloting. We need to change course in the next few minutes, and I have no idea how.”

“I’m closer,” Lightning replied. “I’ll be there shortly.”

“You heard the lady, Sparky. Fifteen crew to get rid of,” Obsidian stated, his eyes jumping from airlock to airlock. “We’ll dump them evenly into airlocks three, four, and five.”

Glare arrived as airlock four was filled with the fifth crew member. Assisting Obsidian and Sparky with the last airlock, the three secured the ship-side pressure doors, preventing access from the other side. Once finished, the unicorn calmed herself with a few deep breaths and steadied her nervous shaking. She teleported out, appearing to the shock of the three gunship crew docked to airlock one. “Sorry everyone, something has, uhh, happened, and I need your assistance.”

The crew stood immediately. “What’s going on?” the closest asked.

“I’ll explain shortly,” Glare answered. Her horn lit up, and all four teleported to the gunship docked at airlock six. Glare disappeared shortly after, repeating the process with the gunship at airlock two. Returning to the sixth gunship, the unicorn left nine confused crew in the now crowded vessel.

Reappearing aboard the Lamaat, Glare opened her right comms. “Hi. Sorry for—for what happened there with all you pilots. There’s been a small, umm, change in plans. Again, I’m really sorry for—”

“Glare, you’re being too nice,” Obsidian interrupted. “Maybe I should do the talking?”

“Uhh, yeah, sure. Sorry, I just got real nervous all of a sudden. All yours.”

“Listen up, pilots,” the changeling took over communicating. “Those docked to airlocks three, four, and five will each find five unconscious crew just outside. They are unharmed. Bring them back aboard your vessels. Once you have done this, we will release your couplings, and you will leave this ship. Interfere, and we’ll vent the airlocks.”

Silence followed, as those on the receiving end processed the situation. “After all our people have done for you, why would you do this?” One pilot asked.

Another replied, “They’re clearly Raider or Gaalsien agents.”

“Traitors, more like it,” a third corrected.

“You guys can argue about what we are as much as you like,” Obsidian cut in, before others could add to the chatter. “Nothing we say will convince you that we’re doing something that has to be done.”

“Why?” The first pilot’s voice returned. “You think that Gaalsien was telling the truth? You’re a fool! We had this under control. What you’re doing is completely unnecessary.”

“No. What we’re doing is right.” Closing comms, Obsidian cringed. “Oh, that was cheesy.”

“I loved it,” Glare growled, catching herself too late and forgetting Sparky was near by. “Uhh, I mean—”

“Glare. He knows. How about we all just head to the bridge and focus?”

“Ehehe, yeah, good idea, I’ll see you there, bye.”

Arms folded and leaning against a wall, Sparky watched the unicorn gallop out of sight. As Obsidian moved up beside him, Sparky looked down at the changeling. “Technically I didn’t know more than your interests in each other.”

Obsidian grinned. “I don’t take you for a fool. You’d have made a reasonable assumption from that, anyway. Come on. We should get moving.”

Walking beside Obsidian, Sparky grew curious. “Who else knows?”

“Shadow. She seemed to figure it out on her own. Doubt the featherbrains have any idea, though. No sense letting them know.”

“Still ashamed?”

“I still have my reservations, but no, not anymore. I just know the twins won’t keep their mouths shut, and that could lead to complications down the track. Or a migraine at the very least.”

“Might be easier if you two weren’t in the Navy, then.”

“Well, I know Glare wants to leave. Unfortunately, she’s still got half a year left before her minimum service period is up. I’m sure she wants to get back to her family.”

“What about yourself?”

“I don’t know. I don’t mind the navy, but I miss being by my Queen’s side. Problem is, if Glare leaves, I’m stuck away from her for a long time either way.” Falling silent, Obsidian looked down at the ground. “Hmm. Pointless to worry about it. No guarantee any of us are going to make it out alive after this.”

“Ever the optimist. If the worst were to happen, at least it was nice to see something other than a scowl on your face.”

“Oh, I can just feel the love radiating from you,” Obsidian replied with sarcasm. “Seriously, it’s good to be able to have a conversation with you.”

Obsidian and Sparky were the last to enter the bridge. Lightning was busy at the helm, while Shadow kept watch over the hangar situation. The others stood near the port side observation windows, with Hiigara’s Angel Moon silhouetted against the sun.

With all seven present, Glare raised her voice. “Shadow. Sitrep?”

“Airlocks are empty, and I’ve just released the couplings on the gunships,” the zebra answered. “They should be departing shortly.”

“Hyperdrive?”

“Charged. Your course has been plotted.”

Surprised, Obsidian looked over at the unicorn. “I didn’t know you could plot hyperspace courses, Glare.”

“I won’t pretend to be an expert, but I managed to get enough information from a navigation officer I came across yesterday. Took me some time, but I was able to calculate a reasonably accurate course. I’ve had the results ready since then.”

Lightning Dust eyed Glare with scrutiny. “Reasonably accurate? We’re not going to exit hyperspace inside a star, are we?”

“Don’t be silly. The hyperspace module would drop us out of hyperspace if we get too close to gravity, remember? Now if it was one of the hyperspace cores … Yeah, I wouldn’t be as confident about plotting a jump.”

“Last of the gunships departing now,” Shadow announced.

With all but the two empty gunships confirmed away from the vessel, Sparky changed course and headed for the closest safe point to initiate hyperspace. The gunships soon changed course to match, and positioned themselves above, below, and to either side of the Lamaat.

Shadow noticed several alerts at her station. “We’re being targeted. Incoming message.”

Routing the message through the bridge’s speakers, one of the gunship pilots re-established contact. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret. If you attempt to escape, we will fire.”

“Shadow, we need to go,” Glare stated. “Before something with an inhibitor gets in range.”

“Can that turret of ours be controlled from here?” Lightning asked.

“No!” the unicorn shouted. “They’re not our enemy!”

“I don’t care if it was Celestia herself!” the pegasus snapped. “Point a weapon at me, and you’re my enemy.”

“They’re not going to go easy on us if we try to jump,” Shadow advised, her calm tone contrasting with Lightning. “Glare, I trust you to make the right call, but know they will fire if they have to.”

Glare exhaled slowly, and weighed her options. “We’re past the point of no return. We give up now, and it’s all for nothing. Do it.”

Shadow gave Glare one final glance, before nodding. “Internal pressure doors sealed. Initiating hyperspace.”

Materialising ahead of the Lamaat, the hyperspace window started to engulf the vessel. Sighting this, the four gunships opened fire. Mass driver turrets hailed down upon the dorsal and ventral structures, while pulsar rounds vaporised craters into two of the main engines. The onslaught was short-lived, with the hyperspace window devouring the last part of the ship before dissipating.

The chatter above Hiigara continued. “Fleet. We’ve lost them.”

“Copied. Coordinates have been transmitted to your ships for the nearest carrier in the area. Medical personnel standing by. Dock and await further instructions.”

“What about the Lamaat?”

“Fleet Intelligence has already identified several potential exit points for the Lamaat. Fleets are currently assembling.”

Author's Note

Yep, another ship from the Complex mod:

31: Gehenna

“Multiple hull breaches!” Shadow yelled over rapidly beeping alarms. “Areas vented: Engineering, aft resourcing drop-off points, and upper deck of spinal corridor. Two main drives, inertial navigation systems, comm transmitters, and refinery module inop.”

“Does this ship have repair drones?” Lightning shouted back.

Shadow silenced the alarm. “Yes. We'll deploy them as soon as we're out of hyperspace.” Another alarm sounded shortly after, this time lower and more drawn out. A quick glance at the ship’s damage control panel confirmed the emergency. “Fire warning. Hangar bay, deck two. We need to—”

A distant rumble moved through the ship. Everyone heard it first, before feeling it through their hooves. Shadow looked back at the screen displaying the ship’s schematics. “Hangar bay, deck two has ruptured.”

“But the fire is out now, right?” Swift confirmed, as the last of the alarms ceased. “Silver lining.”

Shadow hummed. “Looks like our situation is stable for now. If we’re still in hyperspace with this damage, we should survive the transition. What’s our next move, Glare?”

Glare stood hypnotised by one of the observation windows with Obsidian, neither of whom had seen hyperspace with their own eyes. The external cameras of Amarok did not do the real thing justice. Blue, flame-like wisps parted, as if an invisible force pushed aside the ethereal strands. A random wisp would occasionally strike the hull harmlessly, scattering on impact before vanishing.

“Glare?” Shadow’s voice cut through a little louder.

“Hmm? Right. We’re sticking to the plan,” the unicorn ordered. “This ship has individual quarters, so I suggest running on skeleton crew and allowing others to rest as much as possible. Lightning? Ship’s yours. Let me know when you’d like to be relieved, and Sparky can take over.”

Lightning Dust leaned back on her seat, placing her hind hooves atop the nearby console. “Got it. I’m good for a few hours.”

Glare turned to the others. “I’ll need two volunteers to help me wake Khamari. Everyone else can go rest.”

“Let me get my wing blades from my bag first.” Obsidian replied. “I’ll meet you by his pod.”

Swift spoke next, “Guess I’ll check out the icicle as well.”

Following Glare out of the bridge, Obsidian left the other two, who turned to the starboard side compartments. Several quarters lined the corridor’s outboard side, and a nearby set of stairs led to a lower deck with additional quarters. At the far end of the corridor was a white pod, secured against the wall near an open panel. As Glare and Swift drew nearer, they could identify several power cables connecting the pod to exposed conduits behind the panelling.

“Pod appears unharmed,” Glare observed, inspecting it from different angles, and reading a small display at one end. “I’m guessing everything showing green means there’s nothing wrong with Khamari. That’s a good sign.”

“What did I miss?” Obsidian asked, startling others with his silent arrival.

“Please don’t do that. I’m already on edge as it is. I’m going to start the revival process now.” Flipping a guarded switch near the pod’s display, Glare could hear faint hissing from within. “If I’m reading this screen correctly, that noise should stop in a moment, and the pod will open on its own.”

In less than a minute, the process was complete. Obsidian raised his pulsar, and extended his wings, in preparation to strike. “Swift, pulsar at the ready.”

“We won’t need that,” Glare assured the two.

“As Shadow once said to me, better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it.”

Several clicks sounded in succession, causing the top part of the pod to elevate slightly. As the airtight seal broke, a thick white gas started to escape. The dense clouds billowed and cascaded down onto the ground, spreading across the floor, while the top of the pod started rotating up and clear from the main body. When the sublimate started to dissipate from the inside, Khamari became visible, though with his face obscured by his respirator, the three were unsure if he was awake yet.

Obsidian took a cautious step forward and glanced at Glare. “Should I give him a poke?”

“Or a slap?” Swift suggested.

“Shut up,” Glare hissed. “Look, he’s waking.”

Khamari stirred. His body moved slightly before tensing up. “Where am I?”

“You were in cryogenic stasis for a day,” Glare started. “They were going to move you to some secure facility.”

Sitting up in the pod, Khamari faced Glare. There was a subtle tilt to his head. “Were?”

“We intervened,” the unicorn explained. “I wasn’t going to let them lock you away after what you said to everyone.”

“I … appreciate the faith you’ve put into me. That still doesn’t answer my question.”

“We’re aboard the vessel that was meant to take you to that facility. Only, we’re heading in the opposite direction, to Gehenna. Can you walk?”

“I believe I can.” Khamari grunted as he rose from the pod. Stepping out, he straightened his thawb and ignored the other two who continued to point weapons at him. “Your team took control of this vessel? What happened to its crew?”

Glare led Khamari toward the stairs as they headed for the bridge. “We let them go on some of the docked ships.”

Khamari stopped. “Docked ships? You took control of a carrier?”

“No, something smaller.”

Looking around, the vessel’s interior was unfamiliar to Khamari. After a moment of silence, he turned to Glare again. “Three engines? One turret above them?”

“Yes.”

Following Glare up the stairs, the Gaalsien hummed. “A Scavenger class mobile refinery. Interesting choice for a prison transport.”

“Are you familiar with the ship?”

“Not particularly.”

Entering the bridge, Glare found Lightning alone. “How are we doing up here?”

“Nothing new. Expecting a thirteen-hour journey,” the pegasus answered, still relaxed in her recumbent position. “Oh, and no new damage reports. Got some inop internal sensors in a few compartments, so I’m unsure of their status, but if we haven’t heard or felt anything by now, we should be good.”

Glare nodded. “Then we’ll get started on assessing and repairing whatever internal damage we can find.”

“Have fun.”

Glare and Swift paired off, while Obsidian and Khamari did the same. The two groups proceeded to clean up all that had been knocked loose in the attack over Hiigara, while logging any items that could not be fixed on the spot with readily available tools. Neither pair spent much time conversing, particularly the latter, for the first half of the trip through hyperspace.

Waking the others, the four left the remaining work for Shift and Shadow. While the others rested, Obsidian continued to watch over the Gaalsien, until the first leg of their journey came to an end. Gathering on the bridge, everyone waited for the approaching exit.

Ejected from hyperspace, sensors were immediately blinded by thick clouds of dust. A visual inspection from observation windows and external cameras revealed visibility of no more than a few hundred metres. A large dark mass could however be seen off the port side.

Confirming the object as one of the many abandoned asteroid mining facilities, Lightning announced their arrival. “Hyperspace successful. We’ve arrived at Gehenna. Gonna go ahead and deploy those repair drones. Get them working on the engines first.”

Glare moved to Lightning’s side. “Thanks. While that’s happening, I think we should find where the dust is thickest, and set a course in that direction. You know ship systems better than I do. I assume it’s a standard twenty-minute recharge time for the hyperdrive?”

“Normally, yes. Problem is, two inop fusion drives means we lack the power to charge it up. At least one engine needs to be repaired. Alternatively, we can shut everything down and divert power, but that would leave us with no manoeuvring capabilities, sensors, or weapons. Life support would be down, too, though twenty minutes shouldn’t be a problem.”

“We’ll stay on course, then,” Glare ordered, before turning to Swift. “Change of plans. Find Sparky. Tell him to take a gunship and scout ahead. The Hiigarans know what direction we went in, but since they don’t know how far we went, they’ll send multiple fleets to places we’ve likely fled to. See if he can find us a suitable hiding spot. Once you’re done, go rest.”

Swift gave the Gaalsien a concerned look. “You fellas gonna be fine with him?”

“Khamari is free to move about the ship as he pleases. The weapons are not needed. Now go.”

Swift shrugged, and made for the exit. “If you say so.”

Looking back at the Gaalsien, Glare remembered something. “How are you feeling, Khamari? Any fatigue?”

“A little, thank you.”

“Obsidian? Do you mind …?”

“Sure.” Obsidian’s horn lit up, and a short stream of magic snaked toward Khamari, who flinched at its approach.

When the process completed, Glare added, “Let us know whenever you need more. Until then, I think it’s best if we all went to our quarters.”

Glare entered the nearest vacant quarters from the bridge and glanced around. Though small, there was just enough space to fit a desk and wardrobe beside the entrance, while a single mattress bed lied parallel to the opposite wall. Following behind was Obsidian. As soon as he closed the door, the unicorn started to tremble.

Removing his wing blades, Obsidian placed them on top of the desk and approached Glare. “Are you doing okay? You’ve worn that brave face for some time now, but I can tell you’ve been terrified since we started this.”

“If I may quote you this time, ‘nothing scarier than having to be brave’.” With a shaky sigh, Glare collapsed on the bed. “You know, it was Shadow’s idea to put me in charge. I only gave her the idea for the op, but she said she’d trust me to make the right calls. I don’t know if I can.”

The changeling sat on the floor by the bed, crossing his fore-hooves on the mattress. “Do you want a harsh truth, or a comfortable lie?”

“Whichever you think is better.”

“Fine. You’re not a leader. You’re too soft. You ask for things nicely, give suggestions, and constantly welcome input from others. They’re not bad traits in and of themselves, but in this circumstance, you need to be able to show strength and inspire confidence.”

“Is it too late to ask for the comfortable lie?”

“Yes. My guess is that Shadow put you in this role to help you refine your leadership skills. She’s experienced enough to know when, or if to step in, should you need it. I know that no matter what choices you make, or what happens to all of us, she’s definitely going to take responsibility for our actions, but in the meantime, it’s on you. I’ll be there to help in whatever way I can.”

Glare gave a weak smile. “Now that’s a comforting truth.”

“That said, are you sure you can trust Khamari enough to let him wander the ship unsupervised?”

“We’re on the run just as much as he is now, and he needs us just as much as we need him,” Glare reasoned. Out of the corner of her eyes, she spied an odd discolouration on Obsidian. “What happened to your wing?”

Extending both wings, Obsidian revealed misshapen dark red and purple patches at the tips of each. “Just some bruises. Got them from lashing the engineering crew.”

Glare took the closest wing in her hooves. “Let me see those.” Spreading Obsidian’s wing on the mattress, Glare looked back up at him. “You knocked them out with your wings?”

“Yeah. Less suspicious if you approach someone without wielding a weap—” Obsidian took a sharp breath, as the unicorn applied light pressure to the wing with her magic.

Glare was quick to cancel her spell. “Sorry, was that too much?”

“No, it’s fine. Just wasn’t expecting a massage. Cold, too.”

“It’s just a light pressure spell, mixed with a thermal spell. Best I can do as a cold compress. Wouldn’t be a good idea to massage a bruise that bad, anyway.”

“You’d need the scented candles and fragrant oils to set the right mood, anyway,” Obsidian joked.

“Oh, I’m sure I can improvise.” Wiggling her eyebrows, Glare made room on the bed and tilted her head at the empty space.

Jumping up, the changeling stood directly above Glare, and lowered his head closer to hers. “Your orders, Commander?”

Without warning, the door opened. “Oi, Glare, Sparky’s almost fin—” Shift stopped, mouth agape at what he saw.

Glare and Obsidian froze. They stared at Shift, unblinking, as if hoping the pegasus’s vision was based on movement. Shift simply backed out, leaving the door open. Shortly after, his voice could be heard down the corridor. “Swift! Swift! You’ll never guess what I just saw!”

The unicorn groaned. “Buck me.”

Obsidian’s hooves buckled, and he collapsed on top of the unicorn. “We’re never going to hear the end of it now.”

Glare hummed in agreement. With a flick of her horn, she shut the door, ensuring it was locked this time. “My order still stands.”

Lightning Dust swiped through several images on her station’s touchscreen display. The images sent back by Sparky showed a few promising locations, though each with their own set of problems. Her ears twitched, swivelling toward the entrance to the bridge, as Glare and Obsidian entered. “About time. I asked Shift to call you up half an hour ago. Sparky just docked, and I need to know where you want to go.”

Glare masked her guilty expression. “Sparky found places to hide? Alright, let’s hear them.”

Lightning offered Glare her seat and pointed to the screen. “First candidate is an abandoned mining facility. Entrance is large. More than enough space for us to get inside and out of sight. Second is a smaller asteroid with a fissure. There’s a narrow crevice just wide enough to fit us, but several rocky outcrops in and around the location means we’d have to either blast or ram our way in.”

Glare took a closer look at the images. “The facility would be too conspicuous. A search party would look there first. Plus, there’s only one entrance, right? If we go in, we would essentially back ourselves into a corner with no way to escape if we had to. The fissure might be a better option, but we’d need to minimise the amount of damage we cause, or else it might be evidence of our presence. Are those our only options?”

“There’s more. Press that button in the corner,” Lightning instructed, waiting until the next set of images appeared. “Next option is another mining facility. Multiple entrances and exits, so lower chance of trapping ourselves. However, it’s not in the thickest part of the dust, so the risk of sensors getting an ID on us over there would be higher. Option four might be the best choice, if we can reach it. Another natural crevice like option two, but wider and much deeper.”

“What do you mean, ‘if we can reach it’?”

“It’s pretty far away for this limping ship to get to in a reasonable amount of time. We may not make it before a fleet shows up.”

Glare arrived at her decision within seconds. “Then go for option two. We’ll try to wedge ourselves into the smaller fissure. Did we figure out if the turret could be controlled from here?”

Lightning shook her head, “Whatever damage we sustained must have severed the control cables. We can no longer control it from here. External cameras show no visible damage to the turret itself, though. Might still be able to operate it from the auxiliary station at the turret.”

“Obsidian, could you please—I mean, go find someone to operate that turret, then return here,” Glare instructed.

“On it.”

Leaving the bridge, the changeling headed for Shift’s quarters and knocked twice. As expected, the moment the pair locked eyes, Shift expression grew into a sly grin.

In a pre-emptive strike, Obsidian got the first word in. “Situation update. We’re tracking direct to an asteroid. Some crevice there that we’re going to hide in. You’re needed at the turret station to blast some of the rocks out of the way.”

“Sure you wouldn’t rather go there with a certain somepony instead? It’s more … secluded.”

“Top deck is vented, so take an alternate route,” the changeling continued. “Inform Lightning once you’re there. She’ll give you more details as we approach the asteroid.”

“That’s it? No reaction? When did you get so boring? Moreso.”

“What do you want me to say, Shift? You want me to threaten you with a pair of scrambled eggs if you don’t shut up? Or pay more animal trainers to set birds on you? You’re obviously thriving on the reactions, so like a spoiled colt, I’m taking away your toys.”

“Aww, you’re no fun.”

“That’s me. The boring hard-flank. Now get yours over to the turret.”

Approaching their destination, Lightning slowed the vessel as they closed the last hundred metres to the surface. Navigating around the large rock, she soon found the crevice Sparky identified, and turned to the other two bridge occupants. “Glare, Obsidian. Got a visual. Port-side windows.”

Moving up to the windows, the pair could just make out a dark trench gouged into the asteroid. As the ship nudged itself closer, the rocky obstructions became visible.

“Looks like a tight fit,” Glare observed. She turned toward Lightning. “Think you can do it?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem, as long as we get those blockages cleared.” Lightning stated, while tapping on her earpiece. “Hey, Shift. You ready back there?”

“Sure thing, hot stuff. One question, though. Exactly why would a so-called non-combat ship have ammunition stores of forty thousand rounds?”

“Must be anti-missile, then. Be careful when you switch it to manual. That turret would probably fire one hundred to one-fifty rounds per second.”

“Nice. Where should I aim?”

“I’ve brought us to a stop directly beside our target. Blast away a ship’s length worth of those obstructions, and I can slide us into the crevice.”

“Ooh, I love it when you talk dirty.”

“Hmm. Cute.”

“Careful with that one, Lightning,” Obsidian warned.

Lightning watched her external cameras, as the turret faced the asteroid. A steady stream of glowing masses erupted from the four barrels, accompanied by a dull, buzzing rumble throughout the ship. The stream stopped a fraction of a second later, no doubt for Shift to evaluate the condition of the asteroid. Lightning kept a camera fixed on the targeted area as well, ready to provide feedback if required.

A second burst of fire followed, then a third, and fourth. Each time, the turret raked the required length, chipping away at the rock, until Lightning was satisfied by the sixth round. “That should do it, Shift. I’m taking her in.”

The starboard manoeuvring thrusters fired gently, until the ship slid left at a metre per second. Lightning’s eyes moved between the windows, and several screens showing cameras mounted port-side at the nose and the corner of the engine armour up top, and near both resource drop-off points below.

The first parts of the ship dipped below the surface, and Lightning fired the port thrusters, halving their speed. Dorsal thrusters made minor adjustments, providing additional clearance for the top of the ship, and a quick burst forward cleared the engines.

Mostly inside the crevice, another burst from the port thrusters slowed the vessel to a crawl. Once the starboard cameras showed the entire ship was below the surface, Lightning brought the ship to a halt, and confirmed her positioning on sensors. “We’re steady. I recommend we power down and switch to emergency reserves to conceal ourselves better. If we keep life support and the repair drones online, we should have just under two hours, before hitting the minimum levels needed to restart the main drives.”

“We still need eyes,” Glare pointed out. “How much time would it cost us to keep passive sensors online?”

“Passive? Shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.”

“Then we’ll keep them online. Whenever you’re ready.”

In one go, the vessel shut down. Exterior lights were extinguished. The blue-white lighting of the hangar bay darkened. The sole functioning engine ceased all fusion reactions, and associated systems powered off. Across the ship, the background hum fell silent, leaving only a faint sound of air circulating through compartment ducts instead. Interior lighting dimmed, and many of the bridge’s systems went offline.

Lightning confirmed the ship’s status. “Shut-down complete. Unless you need anything else, I’ll try to stretch our reserves by completely shutting off power and life support to unoccupied compartments.”

“Thanks, Lightning. Comm me if you have any updates.” Making for the exit, Glare almost forgot about their gunner. “And tell Shift he can go back to his quarters.”

Sparky lumbered into the ship’s galley. The minuscule compartment barely had space to fit five crew, and lacked most of the conveniences he had grown accustomed to aboard Amarok. Helping himself, he perused the snacks in the pantries, sniffing out something that agreed with his senses, until he decided upon flavoured crackers. Taking a seat at one of the two small tables, he hunched over, elbows on the table, while picking out each individual cracker from the box.

“Can’t sleep, either?” Shadow’s voice sounded from the galley’s entrance.

Giving the zebra a quick glance, Sparky replied. “No.”

“Understandable, given the circumstances.” Taking a seat opposite to Sparky, Shadow declined when he offered her some crackers. “What do you think so far?”

“About the mission? I trust Glare’s moral judgement, though I’d still be more comfortable with you calling the shots. Obsidian’s concerns are valid. Should we be letting Khamari walk free on the ship?”

“Glare is the only one Khamari trusts. That doesn’t mean I’m letting my guard down, however. From what I can tell, most of the others aren’t, either. I am somewhat inclined to believe him, though.”

“Same. They’re outsiders to their own planet. I think you and I can relate to that.”

“What do you mean?”

Sparky sighed. “Let’s be honest here. Everything on our planet is about Equestria. They have the majority population. They control the sun and moon. The Elements of Harmony chose ponies. We’re in the Equestrian Navy. Next to Equestria, we’re nothing, really. Only the griffons can truly rival them.”

“I’m not sure I understand the point you’re trying to make.”

“I think about how globally isolated we are, as the planet’s minorities. I’d imagine the Gaalsien would have it much worse. Not only are they isolated, but their planet doesn’t even want them. Forced into a life of theft and force, just to survive.”

“Now that’s starting to sound more like changelings. Odd that Obsidian doesn’t sympathise.”

“Mmm. Well, it makes me wonder. Best case scenario, we complete our mission, survive, and have the Gaalsien allowed back to Hiigara. Adjusting to such a wildly different society could be difficult.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Integrating into an Equestrian society was difficult. Things ponies did were strange to me, and things I did were strange to them. I didn’t do myself any favours with my silence, either. Somehow, I still managed make a couple of friends, though. There was this griffon who wasn’t much of a talker, either. We seemed to understand each other well enough. Through him, I was introduced to his friend, a unicorn, and one day suggested we go bowling. It was a disaster.”

“What was? The social aspect, or the game itself?”

“The game. I didn’t exactly get the full idea of the rules. Get the ball to knock as many pins down in two, or preferably one go. That was the goal. No one told me what to do with the ball.”

Shadow tried her best to halt the smile that crept up on her face. “Oh, Sparky. You didn’t.”

“They let me go first. I watched a player in another lane and imitated her. The ball ended up in the gutter, so for my second attempt, I changed tactics. Instead of an underarm, I did an overarm throw. Got the strike. And the wall behind the lane. And an employee behind the wall.”

“Oh dear,” Shadow exclaimed between bouts of chuckles. “No serious injuries, I hope.”

“The wall slowed the ball down, but there was still enough speed to break a rib. Needless to say, we were banned from that place. I quickly earned my reputation as a brute in the community. I was so embarrassed, I never saw those two again. Left for another city.”

“Was this before or after you joined the Navy?”

“Shortly after. I was based in Fillydelphia initially, then requested a transfer to Canterlot. Spent most of my time alone, afraid I’d make another mistake like that again. Over time, I learned. My next friend was another unicorn who had been more than patient with me. Found out in the worst way possible that touching horns was not within the privileges of friends. Especially in public.”

Shadow burst out laughing. For half a minute, she continued, while Sparky just stared at her, mildly annoyed. “I’m so sorry, Sparky. Oh, that must have been awkward. Why did you touch her horn?”

Sparky shrugged. “I was just giving her a pat on the head. Seemed innocent enough. Hard to miss the horn with large paws, though. Thankfully we’re still friends. Later that day she sat me down at my apartment and gave me a few lessons on Equestrian customs, taboos, and expectations.”

The speakers above sounded a ship-wide tone. “This is Lightning. All crew to the bridge immediately. Contacts on sensors. Repeat, contacts on sensors.”

Within minutes, Khamari and the Infiltrators were beside Lightning, as the pegasus briefed everyone on the situation. “There’s a fleet out there. Based on their drive signatures, there appears to be one carrier, a battlecruiser, and four destroyers. I’m sure frigs, ‘vettes and fighters are out there too, but at this distance, I doubt we’d pick anything up through this dust.”

“Shift, get back to the turret and stand by,” Glare ordered. After receiving a nod and departing, the unicorn turned back to Lightning. “Do we have a visual?”

“Partial. Our asteroid is obscuring most of the contacts. They seem to be pairing off and fanning out. Based on current vectors, a few should be visible on our starboard cameras in a few seconds.”

The crowd moved closer to Lightning’s screens, while she zoomed the camera in on the first of two contacts about to come into view. A distant blurry silhouette came first, identified by Lightning as a destroyer. The second, larger ship followed, with a more familiar top-down, or bottom-up profile.

“I’m actually surprised they sent a battlecruiser after us,” Lightning commented. “They really didn’t want to let you go, huh Khamari?”

“Hold on,” Obsidian cut in, frowning at the camera feed. “That does not look like a battlecruiser.”

“Isn’t that what their ships look like from above?” Glare enquired.

“Except it looks stockier than a normal BC.”

Lightning dismissed Obsidian’s concerns. “Probably just light distortion from the dust.”

“He’s right,” Khamari interjected. “ That ship is slightly longer, and definitely wider. That’s a battleship.”

Lightning gave the Gaalsien an incredulous look. “Since when have they had battleships?”

“Since they found out the Gaalsien had them, too. Though I suspect the design was being researched well before that discovery.”

Glare looked up at Khamari. “What do you know about them?”

“First and foremost; engage with overwhelming force. The larger size is almost entirely to accommodate solid armour. It is said that it can withstand a direct hit from our Honourguard class battleships’ railgun. If you had active sensors online, you’d likely find fourteen twin mass driver turrets. Ten more than a battlecruiser. The two twin ion cannons are still there, though relocated forward, while their original hard-points support twin artillery turrets. I think there’s also an anti missile turret, and the four standard pulsar point defence cannons. The most distinctive feature at the left and right edges are the fixed ion batteries. Two cannons per side. I believe your Navy calls them Kadeshi ion cannons.”

Swift whistled. “You think someone might be compensating for something?”

“Our railgun is still bigger.”

“Heh, righty. So, Lightning, are we safe here, or what?”

Lightning shrugged. “Given that they still seem to be following a search pattern, I’d say we’re safe for now.”

“That, or they want us to think we’re safe, so smaller craft we can’t see can circle around and surround us,” Obsidian added.

“True,” Lightning conceded. “Glare? How do you want to proceed?”

“Stick to the plan. We’ll stay put. If we leave, they’ll definitely detect us. If we power up and try to charge the hyperdrive, they’ll pick that up, too, then likely follow us to our next destination. Sparky, get back to your gunship. Keep it powered down, but ready to leave, in case we’re discovered. I’ll stay with Lightning. Everyone else, with Sparky.”

The majority left the bridge, leaving Lightning and Glare alone. Both wore concerned expressions, though for different reasons.

After the doors to the bridge closed, Lightning spoke. “You know, the gunship will make no difference if we’re discovered.”

“I don’t plan to use it for an attack, if that’s what you mean. If we have to escape, we’re better off in something faster, and smaller. Easier to lose potential pursuers in this dust.”

“Yeah, and then what? No hyperdrive on corvettes.”

“No, but their carrier has one. Weave through the asteroids, use the dust as cover, and circle around. Keep the carrier between us and its escorts, then head straight for it. I can teleport us aboard once in range.”

“You want to take over a carrier? All while using non-lethal methods? Good luck with that.”

“It’s the best I can come up with. Open to suggestions.”

“Short of surrendering, I’ve got nothing better.”

Glare and Lightning continued tracking any ship they could. Occasionally, some of them performed short-jump manoeuvres while moving from one search area to another. Almost an hour passed without incident, when the Hiigaran fleet congregated in the distance and disappeared.

The tension in Lightning’s body eased. “Looks like they’ve jumped away. I was starting to worry they’d stick around longer than our power reserves could handle.”

“Okay everyone, you can return to the bridge,” Glare messaged the others, before squinting at Lightning’s screens. “How much power do we have left?”

Several keystrokes revealed an overview of the ship’s electronic systems. Reading the display, Lightning answered, “An estimated twelve minutes before minimum restart power. Had we hit five minutes, I would have shut off everything, including life support. At least, until breathing would become difficult.”

Glare hummed. “How are the repairs coming?”

“One of the damaged engines is operational now. The last engine will need another ten to fifteen minutes.”

“Shut off life support now. Let’s leave the restart until the last moment. The fleet might not have jumped all their ships away. If we have twelve—eleven minutes now, plus twenty minutes extra from shutting off life support, we can restart one drive in half an hour. Just one for now. No sense giving off a stronger energy signature just yet.”

“Got it. Life support … offline.”

A few minutes later, everyone returned to the bridge, noting eerie silence across the ship. “I take it you two switched off life support?” Shadow asked.

Glare nodded. “I’m afraid so. We’ll have it back up in less than twenty minutes, but in the meantime, it’s going to get cold. When that happens, we can either sit inside my shield spell, or you can light a flame. Until then, Khamari, I’ll need your assistance.”

“How can I serve?”

“You mentioned that the research base can only be reached through the use of the hyperspace gate network, correct?”

“It’s not the only way, but it is the fastest and safest way to get there.”

“Good. What’s the closest gate from Gehenna?”

“That would be Tandall Gate.”

“Could you help me plot a jump there?”

“Of course.”

Khamari and Glare headed for the nearest console, and pulled up the interface related to hyperspace navigation. The destination coordinates were simple enough; Khamari selected the location on a galactic map with ease. Glare however, had trouble ascertaining their current position.

“So, you have the exit coordinates to Tandall gate. I have the exit coordinates to Gehenna. Seems simple enough. However, given the distance we’ve travelled since arriving here, wherever we are in relation to our exit coordinates here will translate to the same offset at Tandall Gate. I don’t want to waste time. Do you know how to adjust the jump to get us right in front of our destination?”

“Easy enough to do. Take the data from the inertial navigation system, and add the final vector to your entry jump coordinates. If you keep the exit coordinates the same, you’ll be right where you need to be.”

“Uhh, that might be a problem. Inertial navigation systems were damaged during our escape. Any other way?”

“Nothing accurate or reliable. You could guess an offset vector based on how much distance you think you travelled on an ultimate bearing, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Damn. I was hoping we could save some time. Alright, we’ll play it safe and ignore the offset.”

While the pair continued to work, the others had huddled together in a ring near one corner of the bridge. As the minutes passed by, the drop in cabin temperature had become noticeable. Shadow placed her fore-hooves together, facing each other. Pulling sharply away, a sizeable flame hovered between her hooves and radiated heat.

Finished with their calculations, Glare and Khamari joined the others. “Jump plotted,” Glare updated the group. “In ten minutes, we’ll bring life support back up. Won’t have to deal with this temperature much longer.”

“It’s times like this I wish I had some alcohol,” Shift commented.

“You realise that it only makes you feel warmer, right? Your body cools down faster.”

“I know. Not like we’re out in a blizzard for hours though, are we? Bit of booze would be perfect right about now.”

Shadow scoffed. “Shift, there’s no such thing as a ‘bit’ when it comes to you and alcohol. I saw the bill you racked up on Hiigara. Still not sure how I’m going to explain why a member of my team exceeded his allowance seven times. Four of which was on alcohol.”

“I was thirsty.”

“Two of which was food.”

“I was hungry.”

“And the remainder for … ahem, unrestricted entertainment channels.”

“I was lonely?”

“Shadow, please tell me you let housekeeping know to burn the sheets and mattress after he checked out.” Obsidian quipped.

“You’re one to talk, Siddy,” Shift fired back, a cheeky expression on his face.

Obsidian narrowed his eyes at Swift. “Touche.”

“Is this kind of conversation common on your planet?” Khamari cut in. “Most places in the galaxy would call it an information overload.”

Shadow shook her head. “Ignore them. They’re just being foolish. And our term would be ‘too much information’. Not something that comes up in civilised conversation.”

“Hey, Obsidian started—eh, whatever,” Shift gave up, losing interest. “So, gas mask. What’s with the gas mask?”

“Part of traditional Gaalsien military attire,” Khamari replied. “The thawb and bisht kept the body cool, and the mask kept sand out of the way. In my case, the mask was converted into a respirator.”

“Is that why you had trouble breathing on Amarok, when we took it away from you?” Glare asked.

“Yes. My lungs were scarred when a flammable gas ignited on a damaged Raider carrier in the aftermath of a battle we had barely won. Sustained third degree burns to most of my body.”

“I’d say ouch, but third degree means your nerves were destroyed, right?” Swift queried. “You wouldn’t have felt the pain?”

“I certainly felt it while it progressed to a third degree. Not as simple as an off switch.”

“So if I shot you right now, you wouldn’t feel it?”

“Yes and no.”

“Swift, that’s hardly an appropriate question,” Glare chided.

“Just making conversation.”

Rolling her eyes, Glare rose, taking Lightning with her. Returning to the Captain’s station, she watched as Lightning made her preparations to restart an engine. As the last few minutes passed by, Glare issued the order.

“Starting engine one,” Lightning announced.

The fusion power-plant of engine one commenced its startup procedures, forcing nuclear fuel through its internal magnetic fields. As more fuel entered, a cloud of plasma conformed to the fields, brightening to steady luminescence at the completion of the sequence, and returning the familiar thrumming that sounded across the ship.

On the bridge, Lightning seemed satisfied with the engine parameters. “Engine one’s instruments show green. Switching power over from reserves, to engine one … now.” Lights flickered, and screens went blank for a split second at the momentary interruption of power. When Lightning looked back at the display, the electrical system indicated normal operations. “Reserves show charging. Life support … online. Cabin temperature should return to normal in a few minutes.”

Glare felt some relief at the progress, as she watched the pegasus interact with the ship systems. “Give it ten minutes, then start engines two and three. If all engines are fine, charge the hyperdrive.”

“Aye-aye.”

With the ship’s reserve power banks returning to capacity, and the successful start of the remaining engines, Lightning started the charging sequence for the hyperdrive. Everyone else continued to loiter about the bridge, either monitoring sensors from one of the other vacant stations, or watching external cameras for signs of movement.

As the twenty-minute charge neared completion, Lightning readied the ship. “Port thrusters firing. We should be clear of the asteroid in twenty seconds.” Rising over the asteroid’s horizon, the dusty environment came into view at the observation windows. Confirming their position through sensors and cameras, Lightning made her announcement. “Position steady. We’re clear of the asteroid. Ready to jump when you are, Glare.”

The unicorn nodded. “Do it.”

“Hyperspace initiated.”

Author's Note

I promise, the battleship is the last thing I'll steal from Complex

32: Tandall Gate

In the dark, isolated part of the galaxy that held a shared border of territories between the Hiigarans and the Vaygr in the past, lied Tandall Gate. Once hidden from sensors and visuals by a Progenitor distortion field, its recent discovery added to the slowly expanding web of possible galactic destinations.

As with the central hub of the network, The Eye Of Aarran, as well as the gate closest to the Equestrian homeworld, Kyre Gate, Tandall Gate appeared identical; a long, tall hallway, with neither roof nor ceiling, ending with a relatively minuscule hole in the adjoining wall. No surface remained bare on the structure, riddled with alien markings, scratches, scars, and random protrusions and pylons. Despite its imperfections, the device remained relatively pristine, given its estimated age to be in the five-digit values.

Off in the distance, the Er Khar Lamaat emerged from hyperspace. Though fully functional thanks to its repair drones, the sites of former damage were still visible, lacking paint to conceal the field repairs.

On the bridge, Lightning announced their arrival. “Jump complete. We’ve arrived at Tandall Gate.” After a scan of her passive sensors, she detected only one contact; the gate itself. “Setting course for the gate. Should be there in half an hour.”

With the Lamaat oriented toward the gate, its three engines steadily increased to full power. As the vessel headed for its next destination, Obsidian sat at the forefront of the bridge, frowning as his head occasionally swivelled between the left and right observation windows. After a few minutes, he raised his voice, urgency and concern apparent in his tone. “Glare, something’s not right.”

The other Infiltrators stopped and stared at Obsidian, waiting for an explanation. Moving away from Lightning’s side, Glare approached the changeling. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sensing … I don’t know. That can’t be right.” Turning to their pilot, Obsidian asked, “Lightning, are there any contacts on sensors?”

Double-checking sensors, the pegasus shook her head. “Other than the gate itself, no. Why?”

“I thought I was imagining things, but the closer we get to that gate, the more I’m feeling the presence of ponies. But that doesn’t make sense. If it’s just the gate on sensors and nothing else—… Stealth destroyer,” Obsidian concluded, looking out into the empty voice once more. When the realisation hit, he whipped his head back around again. “Lightning! Evasive manoeuvres! Now!”

Lightning pulled the sluggish vessel into a ninety degree turn, maintaining full thrust on the engines. “Amarok?” she enquired, stabilising their new heading.

“No. None of the presences are familiar. It’s the Basilisk.”

“Get us to that gate, but keep changing course at random,” Glare ordered. “Their torpedoes can’t track us, but their blast radius is enough to take us out from a distance.”

“Safest option is to fly tangent to the gate while firing manoeuvring thrusters toward it,” Lightning stated. “I can continue with the hard turns while maintaining the tangent.”

“Whatever you think is best.”

A bright flash of blue streaked across the Lamaat’s path, narrowly missing the ship by metres. Stunned, Glare had no response.

“What the buck was that?” Lightning spoke first. “Looked like a pulsar blast, but those are supposed to be short-range. That was much further.” Looking to one of her screens, an audible notification caught her attention. “Incoming message. On speaker.”

A female’s voice spoke, “Surprised, Infiltrators? Basilisk has a little upgrade Amarok lacks. Now, I suggest you power down your drives and surrender, or we will be forced to destroy your ship.”

Lightning ceased evasive manoeuvres and turned to the one in charge. “Glare? Your call.”

Falling onto her haunches, Glare let out a defeated sigh. “I hadn’t considered this. We were so close, too. I’m so sorry, Khamari.”

Khamari knelt down to the unicorn’s level. “There is nothing to be sorry for. Your actions have given the Gaalsien hope that one day, others may show us the same kindness. I just wish you didn’t have to go through this for nothing.”

Swift stepped forward. “Seriously, Glare? After everything we’ve done, you’re just giving up? You’re a unicorn! Bring up a shield! We can make it!”

Glare shook her head. “I don’t know the spell well enough to bet our lives on it. The only shield I can make is my glyph spell, and I can’t make it large enough to protect this ship.”

“Glare, don’t mean to push you, but Basilisk won’t wait around all day for a response,” Lightning pointed out.

“Come on, Glare!” Shift joined in. “Now’s not the time to give up!”

Glare stomped a hoof. “What do you want from me? If we stay on course, they’ll destroy us. I don’t want to be responsible for that. Lightning, bring us to a stop.”

“Fine.”

“Glare, you were the one who put us here, because you believed so strongly in Khamari,” Obsidian joined in. “We can’t roll over just like that. And after what you said about the technology coming out of that research base, I have a vested interest in keeping our planet safe.”

Glare eyed the changeling suspiciously. “Obsidian, I know that tone. You’re thinking of doing something none of us will approve of, aren’t you?”

“Give me a reason not to. Basilisk is going to board us. When they do, I intend to take hostages. That way, we’re guaranteed safe passage. The rest of you can either help me defend the ship, or stay out of my way.”

“You can’t be serious! They’re our Navy!”

“I suggest you use the time between now and boarding to come up with a better plan,” Obsidian called out over his shoulder, as he made for the exit. “I’ll be near the top decks.”

Watching the argument, Shadow stepped forward to intervene. She barely had time to open her mouth, when she was cut off.

“Wait!” Glare cried. “What if … What if we say some of us are the hostages?”

Obsidian stopped. “Go on.”

“Aside from myself, you are the only other Infiltrator who communicated with the Hiigaran crew after we subdued them, right? There’s no proof anyone else was involved in the hijack.”

“What about the rest of us?” Shadow queried, her interest piquing at the possible plan. “We did knock the crew out. They’d know we were with them.”

“True, but did any of them see more than one of us when we went to our posts?”

Obsidian started to understand Glare’s suggestion. “We can blame that on the big bad changeling taking your forms.”

Glare nodded. “Exactly! It’s absolution for the rest of you.”

One inconsistency in Glare’s plan was made apparent, as Obsidian glanced at Lightning. “What about her?”

“I honestly don’t care,” the pegasus droned, waving her hoof in dismissal.

“Subterfuge and deceit are as valuable to Infiltrators, as combat proficiency, but you’re not going to get anywhere without the skills of a professional liar. We need to get our stories straight for this to be convincing. I say we call you an accomplice, along with myself, and Glare.”

Swift and Shift were confused. “You just said you and Glare were the only ones that communicated with them. Why drag Lightning into it?”

“A member of the Equestrian Navy disappears from Hiigara on the same day one of their ships gets hijacked by six others from the Navy. Anyone assigned to diffuse this situation will not believe that is a coincidence,” Obsidian explained. “Plus, Lightning has a motive, likely seen as a need for revenge by others, due to her history with Raiders. Glare’s motivation diversifies it even further. It’s no secret she tried to convince many people on Hiigara to heed Khamari’s warnings. She’d be seen as taking matters into her own hooves.”

“So what’s your motivation?” Glare asked.

Obsidian shrugged. “Pick a cliché. Am I the evil changeling? Or perhaps I have an inferiority complex and have something to prove by trying to be a one-‘ling army? Lightning, open comms. Everyone else, stay quiet.”

The pegasus pressed a few keys on her nearest screen, and looked back at Obsidian. “Comms are open.”

“My name is Obsidian, an Infiltrator of Amarok. Together with my squad-mate Glare, and the fighter pilot Lightning, we have commandeered this vessel and taken the rest of the Infiltrators hostage. Interfere with our operations, and they die.”

The female from Basilisk’s initial communications replied instantly. “I am Commander Bon Bon, Captain of the Basilisk. What are your demands?”

Shadow perked up, and immediately muted the comms. “I know that name. Obsidian, confirm she is an earth pony with three candies as her cutie mark. Act casual about it.”

Nodding, Obsidian waited for Shadow restore comms. “Bon Bon, huh? That the earth pony? Cutie mark with three candies?”

“Have we met?”

Obsidian muted the comms again. “Sounds like a yes to me. Why do we care?”

“She’s a former Nightcaster. Used to go by the code-name Sweetie Drops. Not sure what her original name is, but now she goes by Bon Bon.”

“Can she help us?”

“Not officially. Neither of us can give each other away on unsecured comms. Come up with a reply where you use the words ‘facet’, ‘garrulous’ and ‘adroit’ in the same sentence. I’ll explain later.”

The changeling took a moment to think of an appropriate sentence, before returning to the comms. “This may sound garrulous, but as an adroit changeling, I am familiar with every facet of your face.” Finishing, he muted once more.

Shadow hummed. “Not bad. Every Nightcaster was given three uncommon words to be used as a way to communicate secretly in plain sight, or to verify one’s identity. Each soldier had a unique set, and we’d remember everyone else’s.”

“So I essentially told her that I’m with you? Why would she trust you, after what we’ve done?”

“Let’s put it this way; suppose I was still a Nightcaster, and I found another about to throw my foal off the side of Canterlot’s mountain. If that other Nightcaster said he or she had a good reason and said nothing more, I would accept that answer unquestioningly and do nothing.”

Glare wore a mortified expression. “That’s … not something you’ve actually done, right?”

The zebra shook her head. “It was just an extreme example. Purely hypothetical. Plus, I’m certain I’ve mentioned in the past that I never had foals. Point is, we don’t just trust each other with our lives. We trust each other with everything we’d hold dear.”

Obsidian remained sceptical. “So you think this Bon Bon will trust you unquestioningly?”

“I’d bet my life on it.”

“And ours too, by the sound of it.” Swift remarked.

“Yes, well, whether she can actually do anything to help us might be another thing entirely.”

“Let’s hope she does,” said Obsidian. “She’s taking her sweet time replying, though.”

With perfect timing, Bon Bon’s voice returned. “I’d like to negotiate face to face. May I come aboard?”

Keeping comms muted, Obsidian turned back to Shadow. “If an officer of her rank comes aboard, you know she won’t be alone. They’ll likely send Basilisk’s Infiltrators with her.”

“Let them.”

“Alright, but at the first sign of trouble, all bets are off.” Releasing the mute button, the changeling replied, “Very well. Assuming you’re arriving via the infiltration tunnel, you can meet me on the top deck. We’ll hold position here.”

Obsidian stood ahead of Glare and Lightning, as the insertion beam materialised in the top deck’s ceiling. Dropping through and landing with a heavy thud was a large griffon, wearing a standard GCU, a tartan waistband of white, blue, and black, and a Lieutenant Commander’s insignia. All the while, a pulsar rifle remained fixed on Obsidian.

As her eyes jumped from the changeling to the other two, both of whom had weapons of their own pointed at her, she clicked her beak once. Satisfied none of the three would attack, she opened her comms. “Three armed in th’ area. Sure ye want to board? Alright, when yer ready.”

Landing beside the griffon was the Captain herself, if the uniform indicated anything. Eyeing the three, the beige-coated mare remained silent for a few seconds. “Are we going to stand around all day pointing weapons at each other, or can we get down to business?” she finally spoke. “Gail. Stand down.”

“Aye.”

Obsidian lowered his weapon next, and the other two followed. Bon Bon approached, her face devoid of emotion. “I’m Commander Bon Bon. You must be Obsidian. I wish to discuss your demands in private. No weapons. Is that acceptable?”

The changeling glanced at the other two, and nodded, leaving his pulsar with Glare. “My associates will keep an eye on your griffon. Follow me.”

Obsidian led the way down the decks, toward the galley. Allowing Bon Bon to enter first, he closed the door behind him and took a seat at the nearest table. When the pony seated herself opposite to him, he opened his mouth, only to be silenced when the mare spoke first.

“Repeat the words.”

“What wo—you mean over the comms? Facet, garrulous and adroit.”

Bon Bon’s expression softened, and some measure of emotion made its way to her face. “That really was Shadow. Only way you’d have gotten those words out of her was if she was desperate,” she mused. “What does she ask of me?”

“She thinks you might be able to help us. In what capacity, I don’t know. You’d better ask her.”

“I plan to. Now, since I gather this isn’t an actual hostage situation, do you mind if I speak with her now?”

Obsidian nodded, and spoke into his comms. “Shadow, need you in the galley.”

An uneasy silence followed, though this time it was Obsidian who felt unease. Knowing full well what Shadow’s capabilities are, the changeling wondered what hidden talents this pony might possess, as an unassuming earth pony. He did not have time to linger on those thoughts, when the galley door opened.

Locking eyes, Bon Bon rose from her seat. “I’m glad to see you’re still in one piece after all these years, Shadow.”

The zebra closed the distance, hugging the pony. “And I you. Captain of the Basilisk? That’s quite a career change.”

“I’m getting old, my friend. Though dull at times, command from a chair suits me just fine. Anyway, let’s get down to business. How can I help?”

“We need you to let us pass through that gate.”

Bon Bon bowed her head without hesitation. “I’ll see what I can—wait, back up. Pass through what gate? Surely you don’t mean that hyperspace gate?”

“There’s no other gate around here, Bon. Beyond that gate is a planetary base researching terrible weapons. Technology that can bypass our planetary defences and strip the surface of atmosphere, or worse. To get to the base, we need the gate. To activate the gate, we had to free the Gaalsien prisoner we caught from Silicon Oasis. To free him, we needed to hijack this vessel.”

“That explains why Command wanted us to hunt you down,” the Captain concluded. “Oh, Shadow. You’ve bitten off more than you could chew, haven’t you?”

“More than you know.” The very air surrounding Shadow seemed to change. “Don’t be surprised if this is a one-way trip for us.”

“In all my years serving under you, I think there was only one time you ever said that would be a likely possibility. I’m glad you were wrong, but I know you wouldn’t have uttered those words lightly. Those words have the same weight now as they did back then,” Bon Bon commented. She fell silent for a moment, as thoughts brewed in her mind. “Alright, I’m coming with you.”

“I can’t ask that of you.”

“Fortunately for you, it’s my call. And technically, I outrank you now.”

“What about your position aboard Basilisk?”

“Leave that to me. I’ll sort everything out.”

“If you’re absolutely sure about this, then I have two additional requests.”

“Name them.”

“First, we’ll need supplies. There’s nine of us, including you. Three anti-matter charges, plus three grenades each. For weapons, we’ll need six LR-48 carbines, three LR-68 rifles, three LR-98 rifles, and two HS-J8 launchers, and enough ammunition for a large assault. We’ll also need pressure suits, including one for a diamond dog, and provisions for … let’s say one week.”

Bon Bon pulled a notepad out of a pocket and made a list. “You’ll have it. And your second request?”

“Exposure. We’re in this mess because no one believed us. One of Khamari’s claims is that he can open the hyperspace gate; something the Raiders figured out. Hiigara didn’t believe that claim either. Focus Basilisk’s cameras on us and the gate, and deliver footage of our departure to Hiigara and our Navy. I’m hoping that would lend credibility to the rest of Khamari’s claims.”

“If it’s convincing enough for them, any chance of reinforcements?”

“Probably better to proceed under the assumption that there won’t be, but just in case”—Shadow took Bon Bon’s pen and notepad, scribbling numbers down—“a fleet led by Aurora to these coordinates would be nice.”

Bon Bon eyed the zebra, after reading the coordinates. “No wonder the Hiigarans refused to believe your prisoner. This is the last planet they’d believe a base would be located. Alright, I’ll let my crew know.”

Bon Bon returned to the top deck with Obsidian, wearing her unreadable face once more. Moving past Glare and Lightning, she positioned herself below the infiltration beam. “Gail. We’re finished here. Let’s go.”

“Aye, Captain.”

The pair floated up through the ceiling and disappeared, though the beam persisted. Returning to Basilisk, Bon Bon ordered Gail to stand guard by the tunnel and await further instructions, before heading for the supply compartment.

Entering, the Captain’s eyes landed on the first unicorn she could find behind the reinforced window. “Specialist,” she barked at the white pony.

The unicorn jumped out of her seat, snapping to attention and saluting. “Yes, Captain?”

“I need access.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The unicorn’s horn flashed, and Bon Bon appeared by her side. “How may I assist?”

“I’ve got this. All I need from you is to ignore standard operating procedures. I can only say that the situation is delicate. Do you understand?”

Confused for a moment, the unicorn nodded. “Yes, ma’am. You were never here.”

“Good. Purge the security feeds while I’m busy.” Searching for an empty crate, Bon Bon found an oblong container with caster wheels and five cubic metres of capacity. Perusing the vast array of shelves and stowages as one would at a grocery store, she retrieved cases of firearms, ammunition, demolitions, pressure suits, field rations, and medical supplies, stuffing the crate to the brim. After several attempts at rearranging the contents, she finally managed to organise everything such that the lid could close and snap shut.

The Captain pushed the container back to the unicorn. “Specialist. I’m finished.”

Without a word, the unicorn teleported Bon Bon and the crate to the other side. Bon Bon wheeled the crate out past the pressure doors, and back to the infiltration tunnel. Locking the wheels, she opened a comms channel to her command centre. “This is the Captain. Due to the situation aboard the Lamaat, we are to fully comply with the hijackers’ requests. We are to release the vessel and allow them to continue with whatever their plan may be.”

A stallion’s voice replied, “What? We’re just going to let them escape? Who knows what they plan to do with that ship! We should at least pursue them while cloaked.”

“The lead hijacker is a changeling,” Bon Bon stated. “He sensed our presence the moment they arrived in this system. If we pursue, we risk the safety of the hostages … Which is why I have volunteered to become one.”

Several voices overlapped in protest.

“Are you nuts?”

“You can’t be serious!”

“What the hay?”

“Silence,” Bon Bon interrupted calmly. “If we are to resolve this, we need somepony on the inside to gather intel, and possibly assist in overthrowing the hijackers. I refuse to ask my crew to put their lives on the line for this, so until I return, or Command deems otherwise, the XO is in charge until further notice. Remain cloaked, hold position, and monitor the Lamaat until they leave. Report the situation to both Command, and the Hiigaran Navy.”

Without waiting for a reply Bon Bon closed comms, and released the crate’s brakes. With Gail’s assistance, the pair pushed the crate up the ramp and stopped short of the tunnel’s beam.

The giant griffon gave her Captain a worried look. “Ye sure this is th’ best option? Ye know ‘Lance an’ I would take yer place if asked.”

“I know, Gail. I know. There’s more to this than it seems, and I need to get to the bottom of it.” Tearing off the piece of paper Shadow had written on, Bon Bon passed it to Gail. “ Once you’ve severed the tunnel link, take this note to the command centre.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Descending the ramp, Gail moved to one of the nearby seats and stood ready by the controls. Bon Bon gave a final nod, before returning to the Lamaat with the crate. Landing on the ship’s top deck, she watched as the infiltration beam dissipated. Obsidian quickly caught her eye, waiting near by. “Where do you want your equipment?”

“Bridge. Easiest place to keep it for now.”

Obsidian assisted the mare with the crate. As they moved forward across the deck, he decided to pry some information from the Captain. “So. Two Nightcasters at our disposal. What secret abilities do you bring to the team?”

“If you’re asking me that question, then Shadow has rightfully told you nothing about me,” Bon Bon deduced.

“Your previous alias was Sweetie Drops.”

“Not a big secret. Nice try, though. I take it Shadow told you everything in our branch, barring our existence, is classified?”

“Yeah. It was worth a shot, though.”

Descending to the lower decks, the pair returned to the bridge, and neatly deposited the crate in one corner of the bridge. Looking around at the rest of the crew, Bon Bon asked Obsidian, “Is it safe to assume everyone has been updated on the situation?”

“Yes. Glare is in command. If you have any input, it should go through her.”

Glare stepped forward. “I appreciate your help. The more of us there are, the better our odds are. Are we cleared to proceed?”

Bon Bon raised an eyebrow at the one supposedly in command, when she sighted the Deckhoof’s uniform. Holding her tongue, she instead replied, “You are.”

“Lightning? Set a course for the gate.”

“Got it.”

The unicorn approached Khamari. “Alright, we’ve taken you this far. Perhaps now might be a good time to explain how you can open the gate.”

“Activating a gate requires a starting sequence, in the form of an encoded data stream,” Khamari started. “The encoding process uses several components. Origin and destination gate identifiers, for obvious reasons. A pass-code is also used, known only to Rancor and Vindicator Captains. Last is a Captain’s gene sequence. Once the data is put through a common hash function and transmitted, the gate runs a bio scan to ensure the sequence came from someone alive and present, before activating.”

“How did the Raiders discover the pass-code to the gate?” Bon Bon questioned the Gaalsien. “I thought that data was lost with the destruction of Sajuuk.”

“They didn’t. They were able to modify one of the gates to accept a new verification method, and each gate in the network updated their software to match.”

“They’re resourceful. I’ll give them that. Though from what I understand, the Raiders tried to assassinate you. Would they not have locked out your gene sequence to prevent you from using the gates against them?”

“The gates don’t update frequently. Even if they did lock me out, the update procedure takes several weeks.”

“Interesting limitation. What equipment do you need for the activation process?”

“Just a standard comms system. I took advantage of the free time we’ve had to get my gene sequence in the medical bay earlier on. Should be a simple matter of concatenating the positioning data, sequence, and pass-code, then transmitting the encrypted result.” Meeting Glare’s gaze, Khamari added, “I’m ready when you are.”

“Alright, go for it.”

While Khamari went to work, Lightning decided to make conversation. “Hey, Commander. What was that weapon you fired at us? Some sort of pulsar?”

“Pretty much. The research division on Aurora had an accidental discovery when trying to combine ion cannon and pulsar technology. Granted, they’re basically the same base tech, given they’re both particle accelerators, but with different characteristics. What they created ended up as a long-range pulsar blast with twice the range of an ion cannon.”

“A sniper rifle for ships?”

“You could call it that. Basilisk had to be modified, though. Engineers had to remove the rear torpedo tubes, so they could build an aft-facing, fixed cannon. Useful for fleeing, but also for taking out specific subsystems or components on targets.”

“Neat.” Making minor heading adjustments as the Lamaat drew closer to the hyperspace gate, Lightning spied many dark yellow spheres floating randomly along their path, down the wide passage, “Hey, those aren’t mines, are they?”

“No, they are harmless. Stay on course,” Khamari instructed. Finishing his work, he announced, “Sequence encoded. Transmitting data now.”

As the Lamaat moved down the megalithic structure’s hallway, no activity seemed apparent to anyone on the bridge. The gate at the end remained as still and dark as it had ever been. Approaching the first set of spherical objects, the crew saw several flickering with golden light, until they steadily glowed. Each subsequent sphere lit up as the ship moved close enough, and those that blocked the vessel’s path floated lazily out of the way.

“Gate activity,” Lightning observed, as several rows of partial rings started spinning, and a familiar shade of blue radiated from the gate’s circumference. The brightness intensified, and a leading patch of white light rotated once per second, causing her sensors began to detect significant energy readings. “Quantum waveform detected.”

Lightning barely managed to finish her sentence, when a linear shock-wave erupted from the gate. Lines of electric-blue raced out along the hall towards the ship, framing the gate and bathing the structure’s interior in a shade of blue. As the front raced past, the bridge lit up, as if those same lines had somehow scanned the compartment.

“Hyperspace gate online,” proclaimed Khamari. “Before we pass through, is this ship's hyperspace module charged? I have our last coordinates set, but we’ll need to jump as soon as we pass through the gate.”

Lightning glanced at the engineering data indicating hyperdrive charge levels. “No problems there. Drive’s ready to go.”

Closing the distance, the size of the gate was made apparent, easily fitting mothership-class vessels. The most curious part of the gate was that unlike a hyperspace window with its solid colour, the destination could be seen somewhat in the active gate. Lensing distortions intensified closer to the edges, and the visible stars within seemed to stretch into long, thin lines between the centre and circumference.

Watching her sensors, Lightning counted down as the numbers by the gate’s distance marker approached zero. “Entering gate in three … two … one …”

The feeds from the external cameras flickered for a split-second, yet no hyperspace transition occurred. No journey through flames of blue, and no stretched passage of celestial bodies. Confused, everyone faced Khamari.

“That’s it. Jump complete. We’ve arrived at Torri Gate, on the outskirts of the galaxy.”

Bon Bon seemed the most shocked. “What? You’re saying we’ve travelled the galaxy’s radius in an instant?”

“Closer to one and a third of the galaxy’s radius, but yes.”

“Nice.”

“Save the awe for later,” Lightning cut in. “We’ve got contacts. Raiders. Rancor and Daggers, long range. Thieves and Brigands closing fast. Khamari? We good to jump?”

“Do it. Preferably before their hyperspace inhibitors get in range.”

“Sure thing. Hyperspace initiated.”

Disappearing as quickly as they came, the Lamaat left the pursuing Raiders alone. In just under two hours, the ship emerged from hyperspace at its final destination, facing three large hulks of debris in close proximity. Blackened by destruction, with barely a hint of yellow paint on some extremities, many parts of the hulks were shrouded by smaller particles, or dust.

Up in geostationary orbit, Obsidian was the first to see the planet off the port side windows. A chill ran down his spine, while Swift and Shift gasped at the sight. Sparky, and Lightning joined in soon after. Most soon figured out what Glare, Shadow, Bon Bon, and Khamari already knew. Obsidian suddenly found his throat dry at the planet below, charred darker shades of black than his coat over most of the surface. Swallowing, a meek voice was all he could muster. “Khamari? Where are we?”

Khamari placed his hands behind his back and joined the others by the window. “The beginning, and the end.”

Author's Note

You know what track should be playing in your head by the end of this chapter...

33: The Beginning And The End (Part 1)

Recovering from the sight of Kharak’s surface, Lightning Dust anchored Er Khar Lamaat between two support structures on one of the larger pieces of debris orbiting the dead planet. A relic of the Hiigaran’s exile era, the debris once belonged to a monumental scaffold used to construct the first mothership of the Kushan race. Following its destruction at the hands of the Taiidan one hundred and twenty-three years ago, the remnants managed to maintain in a decayed orbit.

“Position steady. Setting minimum power,” Lightning announced. “We should be hidden here. Sensors don’t look like they’ll be of much use, though. Aside from a narrow field of vision to the planet, any scans elsewhere will have reduced effectiveness.”

“Fortunately, I know my way around the area,” Khamari commented. “The scaffold used to maintain a geostationary orbit. After the attempted genocide, the debris shifted lower and developed an elliptical orbit. What do sensors show about our orbit? Shape, and speed.”

Lightning opened a new screen at her station, and read aloud part of a list. “Stable enough, with a nine-four minute orbital period, and a velocity just over seven kilometres per second. Periapsis of three hundred and eighty-one kilometres altitude, and apoapsis of five hundred and twelve.”

“Good. There’s a Raider garrison in geostationary orbit directly above the research base. Should be a Rancor with a full strike-craft complement, a few Vindicators, and several Dagger escorts. They’ll be about a hundred times further away from the planet than we are, but we still have to consider the risk of getting caught on their sensors. To mitigate this, we’ll need to head to the surface at our periapsis, in the shortest time possible.”

“Hmm,” Glare mused. “I’m guessing it would also be a good idea to factor in our orbital period and the planet’s rotation?”

“Indeed. Our target can be found on a small part of the planet that survived the atmospheric deprivation strike, north of a landmark known as the Kashar Plateau. If we time our periapsis to put us on a descent path that keeps the base below the horizon, we can land a gunship at the edge of their ground sensor range on the southern side of the plateau.”

“What’s the risk of detection during re-entry?”

“By the garrison? Negligible. Ground sensors? They use short-range, high-frequency waves as part of a ground defence network, supplemented by slightly longer range, low-frequency waves that only work with line of sight. If we stay far enough away initially, then remain below the horizon afterwards, we’ll be fine.”

“And how far to the base once we’re boots on ground?”

“I don’t have an exact distance off the top of my head, but I’d say twenty to thirty kilometres.”

“Seems doable,” the unicorn concluded.

“It will be difficult. Temperatures during the day are lethal, especially at this time of the year, and you can expect below freezing temperatures at night. If we assume our safe operating times are between sunset and two hours after sunrise, that gives us a roughly twelve hour window to complete our objectives and get out. Otherwise, we’ll be stuck for another twelve hours before we can move out.”

Glare frowned, performing some mental arithmetic. “That complicates things. Say I push it and do up to thirty teleportations at two hundred metres each go. We’d still be looking at about an eight hour trek to the base. We’d never get back in time.”

“Someone might need to stay aboard the gunship and wait for a signal to extract us,” Shadow suggested. “We’ve got Lightning, Sparky, and myself for pilots.”

Glare weighed her options. Shadow’s talents would be far too valuable to leave behind, but holding Sparky back would deprive the group of a heavy weapons unit. There was only one logical choice. “Lightning. The gunship is yours.”

Lightning nodded. “You say the word, and I’ll ram the gunship right through the base to pick you up.”

“Hopefully we won’t need that dramatic of an exit. Alright, this plan is starting to come together. Lightning, can you check how long until we have a periapsis that allows for an evening arrival?”

A swipe at some screens, and a momentary glance later, the pegasus replied, “Nine hours, and six minutes.”

“Thank you. Sparky, if you could take first watch on the bridge, I’ll need Lightning to make sure the gunship is in working order. Swift, Shift, take our equipment to the ship and get it secured. Assist Lightning with anything else she might need. Once you’re finished, I suggest we all take a proper night’s sleep, and be ready to launch immediately.”

Obsidian waited for the alarm on his VMUI to sound, after waking half an hour from launch. Peering over the bed, he reached for the device left on the floor, and checked the time, noting only a couple of minutes left. Disabling the alarm, he took a deep breath, stretched, and rolled over on the compact mattress to Glare.

Giving the unicorn a gentle nudge, Obsidian whispered, “Hey. Glare. It’s time.”

With an incoherent grunt, Glare waited for the changeling to move out of the way, before crawling out of the bed. While the pair donned their pressure suits, Obsidian watched Glare move, as if each step pained her. “You alright?” he asked.

“Just scared. This is nothing like our past missions. If we mess this up, it could cost us the lives of everyone back home.”

Obsidian draped a wing over Glare’s barrel and allowed her to lean into him. “Don’t let it cloud your thoughts. There’s only one thing we need to focus on, alright?”

Glare nodded silently.

“Good. I’ll make sure the others are awake, then meet you on the gunship.”

The pair left the quarters and split off. As Glare headed for the bridge, she could hear Obsidian behind her knocking on the first set of quarters. Arriving, she found Lightning Dust swivelling back and forth in her seat. “Good evening, Lightning. How were things?”

“Nothing significant. Picked up a couple of garbled contacts on the passives, but they were nowhere near us. We’ll be coming up on our approach vectors soon.”

“Do what you need to do on the bridge, then shut the ship down completely.”

“We’ll need power to disengage the couplings on the gunship. You fine with me setting a timer for an automated shutdown sequence?”

“I’m okay with it if you’re okay with it.”

“In that case …” Lightning trailed off, as she went to work with the ship’s systems. “Done. Timer set for fifteen minutes. Let’s go.”

Without waiting for a reply, Lightning left the bridge first, with Glare in tow. The unicorn took a final worried glance at the bridge, before catching up with the pegasus. “Hey, I hope you weren’t offended by my decision to keep you behind.”

“What? No, I wasn’t offended at all. Maybe a little disappointed. Was looking forward to sticking a hoof so far up a Raider’s flank that they’d taste grass, but I get it. Of the three pilots, I’d make the most sense to keep behind. I’m guessing Sparky is your heavy weapons guy, and Shadow? Well, from what I heard about her, she’d be a greater asset to you than I would be.”

“Don’t say that. What you did at Argon-Six—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m twice the flyer Rainbow Dash is, without the starving ego. I know my strengths. They just won’t be relevant when you assault the base.”

Arriving at the hangar bay, the pair passed through the airlock attached to their gunship. Confirming everyone else was aboard, Lightning latched the exit, hearing the faint clunk of the airlock’s walkway retracting outside. Securing herself in the pilot’s seat, she proceeded with her pre-start check-lists.

Behind her, the others attempted to resolve the issue of seating eight passengers in four seats. Eventually they agreed each seat occupant would hold another in their lap, while securing their harnesses over both. Sparky paired off with Shadow, Khamari sat with Bon Bon, Swift and Shift took a third seat, and Obsidian held Glare in the final seat.

Finishing her pre-start procedures, Lightning made a quick announcement. “Alright, fillies and gentlegarans, please observe the no smoking sign, fasten your seat belts, and in the event of cabin decompression … tough luck. As soon as we launch, I’m doing a three-G retro, until we’re falling directly down, so have fun. Just be glad that’s all these engines can do. Otherwise, you’d be feeling nine-G in my interceptor.”

Starting the gunship’s engines, Lighting confirmed drives one through six were functioning correctly, and finished her post-start checks. Satisfied, she disengaged the docking clamps, and the vessel shook.

“Couplings free,” the pegasus proclaimed, firing thrusters and heading for the Lamaat’s exit. “Last of the sensor data indicates no contacts in the area. Everypony ready back there?”

Reluctantly, Glare answered, “As we’ll ever be.”

“We’re clear of the Lamaat, and the debris.” Turning the gunship in the direction opposite to their orbital path, she added, “Retrograde burn in three … two … one …”

The ship immediately pressed everyone into their seats, subjecting each occupant to three times their weight. Those holding others in their laps struggled to breathe, as the vessel lowered its orbit. Watching the flight-path marker on her external cameras nudge closer to her intended destination, Lightning cut the engines. Firing manoeuvring thrusters, she aligned the gunship tail-first, and to everyone’s relief, announced, “Burn complete. Estimating arrival in twelve minutes.”

Expecting a number closer to an hour, Glare was surprised. “That’s quick.”

Lightning grinned, turning her head back toward the unicorn. “Little trick of mine. It’s … experimental.”

Glare gave the pegasus an uncertain look. “Experimental? I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Relax. It’s mostly a vertical drop. Four minutes of which is us going as fast as one point seven five klicks a second, with our engines maintaining that speed limit. One minute extra for a three-G deceleration. The rest is level flight just above the ground, until we reach our destination. This approach should work in theory.”

Glare’s expression only intensified. “You’ve never done this before?”

“Well, not in a gunship. I’ve run the numbers, and adjusted for the larger mass and surface area of this ship. We’ll be fine.”

“Forgive me for abstaining my vote of confidence. We’re not going to burn up with your faster re-entry, are we?”

“In what possible outcome in your mind did you expect me to answer that question with a ‘yes’? I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought we’d burn up. Yeah, it’s faster, but only because we have a much shorter distance to cover, compared to a standard re-entry, despite having only a quarter of the speed. Speaking of, we should start to feel the effects of atmosphere shortly.”

As the atmosphere thickened, the gunship started bumping around lightly, subjected to turbulence as it fell backwards through the sky. Bumps quickly turned to shudders, and shudders to jolts. Reaching Lightning’s maximum specified speed, she initiated a one-G burn to maintain velocity.

Suddenly, Swift’s eyes widened, and the pegasus whipped his head around. “Shift? What the—”

“I swear, it’s just the vibration!” Shift quickly replied.

Seizing an opportunity, Obsidian ribbed the pair. “Having fun, you two?”

“Shut up, Obsidian.”

With air density increasing, Lightning eased off on the engines slightly, as aerodynamic drag provided greater assistance in preserving the rate of descent. Upon passing one hundred and fifty kilometres altitude, the pegasus increased engine power to three-G for the final minute, pressing everyone back into their seats, while the rear camera displayed the distant ground, which approached at an alarming rate.

Lightning’s passengers showed various levels of concern or fear, as they watched the feed. Though the sun was setting over this part of the planet, larger geographic features soon became visible, with ever-increasing detail, until even the sand dunes could be seen.

Even with the size of objects in the camera increasing, the gunship managed to slow to a hover no more than a hundred metres from the ground, while Glare, Swift, and Shift recoiled at the potential collision. Lightning however, pumped a hoof in the air and celebrated. “HA! Told you it would work!”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Glare took a moment to recover. “Sorry I doubted you.”

“You’re not the first, and assuming we survive this little field trip, you won’t be the last, either.” Adjusting her course, Lightning flew off at high speed toward their landing zone, maintaining a hundred metres of elevation with ventral thrusters. “At full burn, I can get us up to one point three klicks a second. Drag is a little higher than expected, so let’s set the ETA at nine minutes.”

Showing no mercy, Obsidian spoke up again. “Sure we can’t go any faster? I don’t think poor Shift can hold—”

“Oh, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Shift barked.

“More than you know.”

Thundering across the boundless desert, Lightning spied the front of a distant sandstorm off the port side, only just illuminated by the last rays of lights that fell below the horizon. Concerned at its rapid approach, she performed a quick calculation and determined their destination should just pass the storm, though her estimates and assumptions provided results that were dubious at best. “Hey, Khamari? You think that sandstorm over there might be a problem?”

“If we’re caught in it outside this ship? Likely fatal. Kharak’s sandstorms can easily sandblast the paint off vehicles. I don’t think I need to describe what it would do to flesh after it wears through a pressure suit.”

“Well, we’re coming up on the final two minutes. If we slow at one-G, we’ll stop in a hundred and fifty klicks, so hopefully we’ll miss it completely. I could be wrong though. Either way, decelerating … now.”

This time, the seat occupants pushed part of their weight into those on their laps, squeezing them between themselves, and their harnesses. As they slowed, the terrain no longer passed by in a blurry, undulating manner, and instead, the finer details of rocky flats and rippling dunes could be made out.

Sighting the silhouette of a large landmark over the horizon, Lightning confirmed her position and raised her voice. “There it is. Coming up on the Kashar Plateau.” Slowing further, she altered course slightly. As the plateau drew nearer, Lightning started a gradual descent, spying a suitable landing spot at its base. Flipping switches for landing lights, she aimed the bright spotlights at a mostly flat slab of rock, extended landing skids, and floated directly down in a perfect landing.

Without waiting for Lightning, everyone undid their harnesses and rose. Gathering their equipment, they each loaded up with as much as they could carry. Portable oxygen concentrators attached where a pressure suit’s oxygen tank would go, along with one or two weapons per member, depending on their individual roles. Additional ammunition, demolitions, medical supplies, rations, and survival kits were stuffed into any bag that had room.

Once finished, Glare approached Lightning. “Thanks for doing your part. We’ll report every two hours.”

“No sweat. Give those Raiders my regards.”

Nodding, Glare turned back to the others, catching sight of Khamari still in his usual attire. “Didn't you say temperatures would be below freezing out there?”

“I have sufficient thermal gear below this," the Gaalsien assured Glare. “I’m also more used to colder climates.”

“Alright, you know the place best. Everyone else ready? Let’s go.” Lighting up her horn, Glare and the others disappeared, leaving Lightning alone. Appearing on top of the plateau, the group already felt the drop in temperature, as they surveyed their surroundings.

Littered across the plateau were countless vehicles from an old battlefield, each half-buried under sand carried by the wind. The vehicles ranged from a few metres, to over a hundred metres in length, and at the far end to the group’s right, stood two massive aircraft with diamond shaped wings, spanning the width of the plateau.

Shaking off a quick shiver, Glare asked, “Any idea what happened here, Khamari?”

“The black and red vehicles were Gaalsien. The yellow ones were Coalition. This place was a strategic point for those Coalition aircraft.”

Obsidian eyed one of the smaller black vehicles. “That one looks familiar.”

Looking in Obsidian’s direction, Glare replied, “Wouldn’t be surprised if we saw it in the museum on Hiigara.”

“No, I don’t think it’s that.” Flying toward the wreck, Obsidian landed by the vehicle’s side. The twin forward barrels, the vertically elevated cockpit, and three domed cylinders across its body jogged his memory. “Yeah, we’ve all seen these before,” he stated, after flying back to the others.

Shift raised an eyebrow. “We?”

“Remember that vehicle on the streets on Enigma Tango? Before the skyway?”

“There were Gaalsien on that planet?” Glare asked, looking back at Khamari.

“I wouldn’t be surprised. Unfortunately, the Gaalsien played a significant role in developing the controller technology. Enigma Tango was the first planet outside Raider territory we used to test the weapon on.”

“That planet was far from any known Raider territory,” the unicorn commented. “Seems like an odd planet choice.”

“I think you know the second reason that planet was chosen.”

“Ahh. The ADWs. Hold on, let’s teleport further ahead.” In a flash, the group disappeared, materialising over two hundred metres away. Confirming everyone was present, Glare continued. “So, what we saw in orbit … That’s what we’d expect the death of a planet to look like?”

“I’m afraid so. An entire planet’s surface charred, glassed, and vaporised. Kharak escaped plenty of damage, but it was still more than enough to wipe out all life.”

Glare did not reply. Instead, she picked up the pace.

Trailing behind the others out of earshot, Shadow and Bon Bon took advantage of their time to catch up. “I have to ask,” the zebra started. “Why Bon Bon of all names?”

Bon Bon shrugged. “After standing down from the Nightcasters, I was only given a few days to come up with a new name. Bon Bon was the best I could come up with. Of all the names I had, I narrowed it down to either that, or Sugar Sweet.”

“You’re definitely no Sugar Sweet. Even Sweetie Drops is a bit much.”

“Well you’re no Shadow either, Mbèmbé. Remember the airship? Might have been overkill to explode into flames and incinerate the whole thing.”

“As I recall, it was you who had blown our cover, not I. Had to make sure no one would follow us—”

“—while I jumped overboard with the intel, into a free-fall, with no unicorn or pegasus backup, or a parachute.”

“I thought I did a decent job of catching you and arresting our fall.”

“I knew you would. Would have been nice if you got to me sooner, though. Saving me at the last second like that did wonders for my blood pressure. Still, good to know we got a trotting flamethrower for this op.”

“I wish I could say that was still possible. That airship op drained me permanently.”

“You mean you can no longer—”

“Oh, I still can. Just not to that extent.”

“Hey!” Glare shouted at the head of the group. “We’re moving up again. You two ready back there?”

“Go ahead,” Bon Bon shouted back.

Feeling the sand shift under their weight as they teleported out, the eight pressed on. In mere seconds, they felt a mild rumble beneath them, intensifying rapidly.

Shift looked around and asked the obvious. “Uhh, fellas? Anyone else feel that?”

Glare looked to Khamari for answers. “Earthquake?”

“No. Kharak hasn’t had tectonic activity for a long time.”

Before Khamari could say any more, an eruption of sand cascaded upon the group, as a large beast clawed its way out. Towering over him at four times his height, with claws on its front paws as big as he was, stood a brown-furred beast of snarling rage.

“What the buck is that?” Bon Bon shouted.

Obsidian recognised the animal immediately. “Kudaark! Get clear!”

The creature snorted, its snout spines bristling. Khamari dived near Glare as she raised her shield, in time for several large bony spikes to eject from the snout. Colliding with the golden barrier, the shield failed, only just managing to protect its occupants.

Khamari quickly rose. “Eyes first, legs second!” he shouted, raising his pulsar rifle.

The rest followed, firing spears of blue from their weapons, and melting a cavity into where an eye once was. Recoiling in pain, the Kudaark buried its head and flung a large mass of sand at the group.

Glare leaped out of the way, as large claws swiped in her general direction. Swift and Shift took flight, shooting at the beast’s toughened hide from flanking positions, before it decided to burrow back underground. Firing a couple of rounds at its rump before it disappeared under the sand, the twins landed. “Everypony okay?”

Shaking sand off herself, Glare replied, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“As am I. We should leave at once,” Khamari suggested. “Kudaarks aren’t known to be forgiving. It will be back.”

Glare nodded. “You had me at ‘leave’.” In a flash, the group jumped up another couple hundred metres and resumed their trek across the desert. She faced Khamari once more. “I thought you said all life on Kharak was wiped out from the ADWs.”

“Apparently not. I was just as surprised as you were to encounter a Kudaark.”

“You think other creatures could have survived?”

“Doubtful, but these last few minutes did prove me wrong. Kudaarks might have survived because they spend much of their time underground. Plus, Kharak did not get fully bombarded with ADWs. They might have just hibernated until post-bombardment temperatures and oxygen distribution stabilised. Whatever the case, there are certain things I hope had perished in the bombardment.”

Curious, Obsidian moved closer to Khamari. “Such as?”

“The Khaaneph.”

“What do those creatures look like?”

“Me.”

“Huh?”

“They are Kushan, but stripped of all morality. Khaaneph was a term used by the Gaalsien to describe … well, madmen. The ‘Godless’. They believe in nothing. No gods, no laws, no kiithid.”

“Sounds like Raiders to me.”

“You could make comparisons, but even Raiders have standards. Yes, both would raid for resources in ways considered savage, and both would be considered extreme scavengers. Though you could say both would find a way to re-purpose every scrap of metal, or bring up every captured child as a warrior, the Khaaneph took things much further. Every corpse on the battlefield was a source of food. Every comrade was just another resource to further fuel ones selfish desires. Raiders still work as a team. Khaaneph would just as quickly kill their teammates, if the individual stood to gain from it.”

“So, a lack of honour,” Obsidian stated simply.

“I suppose. It’s an eye-opening insight into what a group of beings would look like with pure objectivity.”

“That seems like a stretch,” Glare argued. “Mutual cooperation is the reason our races have become what they are today. It seems objectively better than … that.”

Khamari bowed his head. “And I agree completely. However, consider your life span, and what you could do with your strength, intelligence, and abilities. What could you gain by being selfish, and what could you gain by being selfless?”

“Assuming no repercussions, sure, but all actions have consequences,” Glare countered.

“That’s a naive answer,” the Gaalsien stated. “How often are school bullies reprimanded? Or upper management of large businesses? What about corrupt politicians? Some leaders in the galaxy would gladly sell out entire planets, just to be set for life.”

Glare hummed. “Well, we do have our own problems in Equestria, but it seems they aren’t as bad as other parts of the galaxy.”

“Be thankful your problems pale in comparison to other places.”

“Uhh,” Obsidian started. “Aren’t we on this planet because others saw fit to make it our problem?”

“You make a good point,” Khamari agreed. Checking the time on his wristwatch, he looked toward the horizon. “Might want to press forward with more haste. Glare, do you have strength to move us again?”

“I should.” Looking back at the group, the unicorn raised her voice. “Everyone ready to jump ahead again? Here we go …”

The group continued their trek through the darkness, broken only by their rifle torches, or the occasional golden flash from Glare. As hours passed, they continued leaping forward, eventually approaching the peak of a large sand dune, just as the horizon betrayed the faintest hint of orange from the approaching sun.

Nestled in a distant shallow valley, three buildings stood out, with lighting from masts and windows of varying intensities. Two of the semi-spherical structures stood at half the size of the third, with crude roads connecting the buildings to each other, and several isolated columns surrounding them.

Glare zoomed in on the targets through her CNS. “What are we dealing with, Khamari?”

Looking down the scope of his rifle, the Gaalsien adjusted the magnification to survey the area. “The main structure is the research base itself. The closer, smaller structure, is a power station. I’d recommend destroying that before focusing on the research base, as it would deactivate many of the automated systems we’re likely to face in the base, as well as the base’s communications array. We probably don't want reinforcements called.”

“Is that what I see on top of the third structure?”

“No, the array would be on the research base. Those on the third building are the sensors that coordinate the turret emplacements surrounding the base. Those free-standing columns littered around. Unless you want this to be a one-way trip, we’ll need to destroy that, too.”

“Alright, we have updated objectives then. The base is our primary target, while the power station and turret control building are secondary,” Glare announced. “Unless anypony objects, we should split up. One group will take the power station offline. As soon as the power is out, the main group will begin the assault on the base. Khamari? Do you have a preference on which group to go with?”

“Probably better I assist with the power station. I should be able to blend in with others.”

“Then take Obsidian and Shadow with you. Everyone else will be part of group two or three. We’ll hit the base at opposite ends as soon as the power is out. Once we go loud, we go hard. Unless anyone has anything to add, let’s move, before the light gives our approach away.”

34: The Beginning And The End (Part 2)

Making their way down the valley, Khamari and Shadow waded through sand in single file. Mindful of the rising sun, they pressed forward at a brisk pace, while Obsidian hovered behind, sweeping away and covering up their tracks as best he could.

Off in the distance, the changeling spied the rest of his comrades. Swift and Shift could be seen copying Obsidian’s actions behind their respective groups, though at their distance, only Obsidian could make out the individuals.

Ahead stood the smaller domed structure that housed the region’s power station. The smooth, black exterior, coupled with red lighting along several parts of the structure, gave the station an ominous look that was mirrored by the other two distant domes in every way, except size.

Khamari, Shadow, and Obsidian manoeuvred around the building, keeping the smaller sand dunes between themselves and the power station. Eventually however, the terrain cleared and flattened out, forcing the three to hold position behind their last suitable cover.

“This looks about as far as we can safely go,” Shadow remarked, glancing in the direction of the sun. “Too bright to not be seen now. Do you think we can risk closing the last half klick, Khamari?”

“I doubt it. These buildings don’t have windows, but they would have plenty of cameras. We’d be sighted well before then, and they’re not just going to let us walk in.”

“Why not?” Obsidian countered. “Who’s going to suspect a Gaalsien, especially when you all cover your faces?”

“What about you two?” Khamari asked. He showed little surprise, when his question was answered with green flames, and a perfect copy of himself in the changeling’s place. Turning to Shadow, he added, “And you?”

“Don’t worry about me. Start running, I’ll follow soon after.”

“I don’t suppose you could elaborate?”

Shadow smirked at the Gaalsien. “I could, but that would be no fun. Now go. And remember, run like your life depends on it!”

Khamari and Obsidian glanced at each other. Shrugging, Obsidian moved first. Khamari soon followed, leaving Shadow alone to concentrate. Air around her started to swirl, orbiting around the zebra as if she had suddenly become the eye of an incredibly low pressure meteorological phenomena. As the wind around Shadow picked up, so too did it pick up the surrounding sand, and by the time the storm reached its peak, a tornado had obscured the zebra.

Looking over their shoulders, Obsidian and Khamari found Shadow’s creation reaching heights just taller than their destination. The pair went into a sprint when they saw it moving toward them. As they continued running toward the power station, the tornado kept a reasonable distance and moved at the same speed.

Upon arrival outside the closed entrance doors to the building, Obsidian and Khamari watched as the tornado closed in on them, before lifting and scattering against the walls. Shortly before revealing herself, Shadow made sure to sandblast the glass on any nearby cameras, leaving what was surely just three blurred blobs to any observer.

“Well, that’s one way to make an entrance,” Obsidian commented.

Before Obsidian could say more, an unarmed Gaalsien emerged from the building to investigate. The newcomer barely had time to see Shadow, before a column of sand shot out from near by and engulfed him. As quickly as it came, the sand receded, dragging its occupant under the surface.

Khamari and Obsidian stared speechless at the patch of sand beneath which the Raider must have been. Recovering first, Obsidian blinked a few times as he finished processing what had happened. “Alright, that’s three out of four elements I’ve now seen you use, and I’d say that was the most brutal application of elemental magic so far. Can’t think of many worse deaths than being buried alive.”

“That sand hit him with enough force to knock him out, at the very least,” Shadow explained, adding, “I’m not a savage, Obsidian.”

“Still … Anyway, how are we proceeding, Khamari?”

“I should be able to locate several critical locations we can use to level the station. However”—he faced Shadow—“we will need to secure a route to more secluded areas first, while you wait out here.”

The zebra nodded. “Very well. Just knock before opening the doors when you return, so I don’t send sand your way.”

Khamari held out an arm in front of Obsidian. “Before we proceed, I might need some of your energy again.”

Glare’s group gathered near one of the research base’s entrances. From their scouting runs, the five identified only two points of ingress and egress, one of which was personnel access built into the closed doors of a large vehicle depot that faced the power station. Knowing Obsidian’s group would proceed through the research base via that point after their first objective, Glare and the others chose to wait at the entrance on the opposite side of the base.

While they waited for a sign to proceed, Glare piped up. “What do you think will happen to us if we survive and make it back home?”

“There’s probably going to be a bunch of angry superiors ready to rip into every decision and action we’ve taken since leaving Hiigara,” Bon Bon replied, her tone almost too casual.

“I’d expect that much. They’d understand, though … Right?”

“Hard to say. I’m willing to bet they’re going to throw the usual junk about chain of command at you. They’re certainly going to come after me for abandoning my post, once they find out I left Basilisk voluntarily. I’ll definitely lose my command.”

“You knew, and you still joined us?”

Bon Bon shrugged. “Some things are worth sacrificing a life-long career for. Besides, if they had half a brain between them, they’d be fools to throw me out.”

“Surely they wouldn’t give you a dishonourable discharge for this?”

The Captain laughed, “Oh Celestia no, that would be a little extreme. They could still discharge me for bad conduct, but they know who they’re dealing with. Likely consequences would be demotion, and … possibly reassignment to planet-bound duties.”

A rumble caught their attention. The distant sound of a large explosion travelled through the air, meeting their ears while tremors passed through the sand. This was the moment they had waited for. After a brief glance at each other, the five sprang into action and split into their respective groups.

Glare flashed out of existence, taking Shift with her. Bon Bon led the ground charge, sending sand airborne in her wake, while Sparky’s paws thundered across the ground shortly behind, and Swift followed alongside.

Sighting a pair of Raiders that had rushed out, Sparky skidded to a halt and brought his launcher to bear. A single pulse met his ears as he squeezed the trigger, and his surroundings lit up momentarily with electric blue hues, as a ball of plasma arced over Bon Bon and Swift. Colliding with the entrance doors, the plasma splashed across several metres of the impact site, melting through them and immolating the Raiders in the process.

The three maintained momentum as they arrived at the entrance’s remains, with Bon Bon leaping across the glassed and incinerated area, into a small reception hall. One Raider froze near a desk to her right, and barely had time to react, before the pony fired her pulsar into him.

Swift flew in, just as another pair of Raiders emerged from an armoured door on the left. Three pulsar rounds streaked across the room, fatally striking one Raider, and hitting the other in the leg. The survivor managed to dive back behind the door, and manually seal it shut, when Sparky finally arrived. Eyeing the door, the diamond dog took aim, before Bon Bon called out for him to stop.

“Conserve your ammo, Sparky. I’ve got this.” she ordered, while positioning herself at a distance in front of the door, where the Raider could be seen through a small glass pane shouting silently into a comms system. Pawing the ground twice, Bon Bon went to a gallop, leaping into the air a few metres from the door. Pulling back a fore-hoof, the mare smashed the door with enough force to shear it clean off its mountings, and into a wall directly behind it.

A loud metallic impact echoed, causing everyone’s ears to ring and drown out the sound of an alarm. Swift and Sparky paid it no attention however, as they both stood with mouths agape at what just happened. At the far end of the formerly sealed room, the door could still be seen embedded into a cracked wall, with the yellow blood of the unfortunate Raider splattered around the door.

“Save the awe for later,” Bon Bon shouted. “Sparky, confirm the power outage has disabled the elevator, then cover the entrance. Swift, with me. We’re clearing rooms.”

Outside, Glare and Shift had teleported to the base’s peak, where the communications array extended. While Bon Bon’s team commenced the ground floor sweep, Glare and Shift had already secured their smaller demolitions to the mast, power supply, and a junction box connecting thick electrical cables from the building to the components.

Freeing his hooves, Shift hovered above Glare, and lifted her into the air. Flying straight up, the pair ensured they would be well clear of any shrapnel and falling debris, when Glare squeezed the detonator. A trio of booms met their ears, followed shortly by the sound of metal creaking, snapping, and wailing, as the radio tower collapsed and toppled over.

Flying to the upwind side of the developing black smoke plume, the pair watched as the mast hit the side of the research base, and slid down the curved surface, screeching as metal scraped on metal. Satisfied, the pair descended toward the sizeable hole gouged into the top of the building, locating an area minimally affected by the smoke. Peering into a room demolished beyond recognition, the unicorn and pegasus landed, and proceeded to secure the immediate area.

Wading through debris consistent with technical equipment, the pair split off in opposite directions. At both ends of the open floor were spiral stairwells that led to the lower levels. On Shift’s eastern side, handrails surrounded the stairwell perimeter, and the pegasus guessed the structure was at least five or six metres in diameter. Glare’s western side was significantly less recognisable, as structural debris from the explosion had caved in on the stairs.

While Shift covered the usable stairs, Glare performed a quick search of the area. Aside from the charred body of a Gaalsien near a large pair of elevator doors on the southern side, and the arm of a Raider protruding from the stairway rubble, the top floor was clear of any base personnel.

After pressing several buttons on the elevator, Glare raised her voice. “Elevator appears to be inoperative. Looks like the main power has been knocked out.” Moving up to Shift, she opened comms. “Top floor secured. How’s everyone else doing?”

“Ground floor secured,” Bon Bon replied. “One large vehicle parked in the depot. Appears inactive, but unsure if occupied. Khamari, you know how to board it?”

“Stand by,” Khamari responded, the sounds of a firefight audible through his comms. Half a minute later, the Gaalsien’s voice returned. “Alright, our area is secure for the time being. Can you describe the vehicle?”

“Uhh, it’s about fifty metres in length, or perhaps a bit shorter. Three domed cylinders at the four corners, facing outboard. Convex, arched chassis, fore to aft, with enough space to pass under the vehicle laterally.”

Khamari hummed. “Do the front left and right propulsors have triangular plates of armour on them?”

“Propulsors?”

“The cylinders that allow it to hover.”

“Then, yes. The ones in the rear don’t have any plating, though.”

“That would be a Gaalsien baserunner. Under the arch, if you look up, there will be an access hatch. However, attempting to enter from there would leave you vulnerable to any crew that might be inside.”

“Alright, we’ll leave it alone for now, but I’ll keep some demolitions armed around it in case someone is inside and decides to flee. We’ll figure out what to do with it once your group joins us.”

“You may have to continue securing the building by yourselves. Light resistance remains at the power station. We’ll catch up when we can.”

“Copied,” Bon Bon acknowledged. “We’ll hold position while the others continue from above. Exits and stairs are covered.”

Glare frowned, doubtful a unicorn and pegasus would be sufficient. “Any chance I could teleport one of you up here to assist?”

Bon Bon looked around at her group. Coming to a decision, she shouted across the reception hall. “Sparky, you’re in charge until either myself or Shadow returns. Hold position until then. Swift, position yourself above the lobby entrance and cover both stairwells.” Opening comms again, she added, “I can spare myself. Ready when you are.”

Flashing into view, Glare looked around until she found Bon Bon. After a quick exchange of nods, the pair disappeared, arriving beside Shift on the top floor. “Haven’t noticed any activity so far,” she explained to Bon Bon. “I doubt that will be the case for long.”

“Agreed. Probably a good idea to strike now, while they still think the ground soldiers are just on the ground floor.”

“I’ll take point. Shift, cover us from above.”

“Will do.” Flapping his wings, the pegasus hovered, and followed the mares down the stairwell.

Descending clockwise to the nearest floor, Glare stopped by the handle side of a door. Cracking it open, she peeked inside and found no one in the corridor, though considerable commotion could be heard from rooms attached to it.

“Cover the stairs,” Glare whispered to Bon Bon. “Shift, with me.”

Sliding past the door, the pair started with the nearest room; a laboratory filled with computers, a pair of phased disassembler arrays, and two rows of tables atop which stacks of blueprints lied. A pair of Raiders remained oblivious to their presence, preoccupied with a frenzied rush of data retrieval from several terminals.

Raising their rifles, Shift waited for Glare to fire first. The unicorn hesitated as she waged another internal war on conflicting thoughts. No. This is not the right time. Exhaling, Glare pulled the trigger, and struck the nearest Raider in the back of the neck. Before the second one could move, Shift fired twice.

Shift covered the exit, while Glare explored the lab. Inspecting the designs upon the table, Glare confirmed what Khamari had said all along. From what little she could understand, the illustrations depicted various delivery systems for atmospheric deprivation weapons, including one designed to be sent directly through a hyperspace window capable of manifesting in the gravity well of a planet.

Glare feared the potential ramifications. Moreso, the anger that boiled inside rekindled her motivation, and pillars of helical light blasted from her horn as she destroyed the designs and surrounding electronics, shaking the room with each flash of light. When no intact device remained, and several parts of the lab were aflame, the unicorn left with Shift in tow. Proceeding to an adjacent archive room, she showed no mercy to the lone Raider that cowered in the corner, before torching the place and continuing to the next room.

Obsidian, Shadow, and Khamari made a beeline for the research base. Having survived the lightly armed security that pursued them shortly after blasting half the power station to oblivion, the three weathered the sun’s assault next, as temperatures continued to rise. While Khamari’s attire seemed more suited to the harsh environment, the suits Obsidian and Shadow wore had trapped most of the heat absorbed from direct contact with sunlight.

Sprinting the entire kilometre from the power station to the research base, the three headed for the door by the vehicle depot. Breathless, dizzy, and nauseated, they burst through the door, sighing in relief at the immediate drop in temperature.

“… And we’ll need to … do that again … to take … the turrets … offline,” Obsidian panted. “Yeah, piece of cake.”

“It might just be.” Khamari wheezed, hunched over with his hands on his knees. Pointing at the giant vehicle beside them, he managed a simple, “The baserunner could transport us across.”

Remembering the comms chatter, Obsidian headed for the lobby. Sighting the diamond dog, he called out, “Sparky, get over here. Need your assistance by the vehicle.”

Sparky glanced at Obsidian, before looking up at Swift. The pegasus waved a hoof in the direction of the vehicle depot. “Go, I’ll keep an eye on things.”

Securing his weapon, Sparky followed Obsidian. “What do you need?”

“As Khamari said over comms earlier on, attempting to gain access to the baserunner would leave us exposed to possible defences,” Obsidian explained, as the pair rounded the corner and entered the depot. “Do you smell anything?”

Setting his launcher down beside him, Sparky's nostrils flared, sniffing the air for any signs of a familiar scent. “No. Unless the vehicle is airtight?” he asked, facing Khamari.

Khamari nodded. “If we opened the hatch, would that be sufficient for you?”

Sparky gave a positive grunt. Khamari moved toward the hatch at the baserunner's belly, while Obsidian and Shadow assembled at opposite ends at a safe distance. Taking hold of the hatch's release mechanism, the Gaalsien rotated the short bar, releasing the hatch and leaping out of the way of any possible threats as the door fell open.

The group held their positions, weapons pointed at the opening, while Sparky furrowed his brow and attempted to pick up any hint of a Gaalsien or Raider inside. For every five or six tones of the base's alarm, Sparky would sharply inhale. Overhead, the dull blasts from Glare caused the building to rumble at about the same rate.

A little over a minute passed, before the diamond dog felt satisfied, only picking up mere hints of scents from occupants who have long since disembarked. “No one is aboard. It should be safe to enter.”

“Thank you, Sparky. Head back to the lobby,” Shadow ordered. “We'll take it from here.”

With another grunt, Sparky hoisted his weapon back up and swung around, leaving the same way he came. Taking point, Obsidian entered the baserunner first, still wary of any potential threats as he floated up beside a ladder. Khamari and Shadow followed, until the three stood around the access hatch.

“Controls are on the top deck, forward section,” Khamari started. “Living quarters in the aft section. Power plant in the rear half, multiple decks. Cargo in the forward decks across all but the top deck, forward of this bulkhead. There’s enough visibility on every deck for us to safely split up, as well as flank any threats if need be. Just mind the bulkhead corners.”

“I'll take the top deck,” Obsidian volunteered. “Forward to aft sweep.”

“I can search the cargo area, top to bottom,” Khamari followed.

“Power plant for me then,” Shadow finished.

Spreading out, the three confirmed the interior was indeed empty. Obsidian gave the baserunner's controls a final glance, before turning around and heading back toward the ladder. As he moved aft, he caught Khamari out of the corner of his eye, frozen in place. Pausing, he looked down into the cargo compartment at the Gaalsien. “Everything alright?” the changeling asked. When he received no answer, he flew down to the Gaalsien to see what the matter was. “What’s going on with …”

Staring down at the bottom-most level of the cargo hold, the changeling found a large device of exposed components. A small console mounted to the side nearest to the pair, while several wires tracked around to a pyramid of cylindrical parts, splitting up and connecting to the individual pieces. Beside the console’s screen, what was clearly a warning sign was fixed to one of the device’s support structures, though it was printed in Kushan-La. Khamari’s reaction confirmed the suspicions Obsidian had about what he was looking at.

“That would be the warhead of an ADW,” Khamari finally spoke, just as Shadow joined back up with the others. “Or at least, a crude assembly of one.”

“So, you were telling the truth after all,” the changeling replied quietly, as if he feared his voice would trigger the weapon. “I’m sorry.”

“We’ll concern ourselves with apologies later. Right now, we’ve been presented with an opportunity.”

“You’re thinking of using it to destroy the base?” Shadow enquired.

“I am. The yield of this warhead would wipe the entire valley out of existence, as a bare minimum. If I can set a timer, your pilot can extract us to a minimum safe distance. There’s a catch, however.”

Obsidian hummed. “There always is. What is it?”

“I can’t say with certainty, but once armed, the device will probably light up on sensors. We’d likely advertise our presence to those in orbit, or at least signify to them that something is seriously wrong.”

“They'll figure that out sooner or later. We’ll worry about that when the time comes. Let's assist the others first.”

“Agreed. One of us should stay to guard this, though. ADW aside, this baserunner will make life easier.”

Considering her options, Shadow quickly decided who would remain on board. Her eyes landed on Khamari. “Fine. Stay here, and secure the hatch behind us. Anyone tries to force their way in, you let us know, and we'll get Glare to teleport reinforcements.” Opening her comms, she continued. “Glare, the vehicle is secured. Where do you need us?”

“We're four floors down from the top. Can you work your way up?”

“Obsidian and I are on our way.”

While the others continued clearing out the base room by room and floor by floor, Khamari busied himself with the super-weapon secured inside the baserunner. After familiarising himself with the console interface and studying the exposed components as carefully as possible, the Gaalsien was confident an arming sequence and timer could be set.

Finished in the cargo bay, Khamari returned to the baserunner's controls. Flipping the appropriate switches and turning various dials, he started the vehicle and checked for anything that might hinder safety or performance. Satisfied, Khamari kept the baserunner's propulsors at idle, and waited, keeping a close eye on external cameras for anyone that might attempt to board the vehicle.

Several floors above, the final battle raged, and the last of the Raider and Gaalsien personnel made their final stand at the centre of a large room. Remnants of a large device lay strewn across the floor, and served as cover for the hostiles. Blue pulsar streaks cut back and forth between each side, and though the base personnel outnumbered their attackers four to one, the two groups were at a stalemate.

Taking cover, Bon Bon stated the obvious, “Glare, we’re going to have to rethink our approach to this.”

Glancing around the room, Glare realised the Gaalsien and Raiders were well entrenched, but pinned down. She quickly identified areas of cover at various points around their enemy, and turned back toward her squad-mates. “Bon Bon, hold position and keep up the fire. Shadow”—she addressed the zebra who had just returned behind her cover—“With me.”

Glare’s horn glowed briefly, before she and Shadow flashed away. The sound of teleportation was heard somewhere on the other side of the room and to the left, before another sound signalled Glare’s return to the others, alone. “Obsidian, you’re next.”

Glare repeated the process with the changeling, followed by Shift, then positioned herself elsewhere. Fully surrounded, the hostiles found themselves completely outflanked. In a matter of seconds, the firefight was over. With nothing but the base's alarm still sounding, the victorious group scanned the area for survivors, before congregating near the centre of the room.

“I think that's the last of them,” a relieved Glare proclaimed, doing her best to ignore the bodies around her. Enveloping her demolitions in her aura, she floated every explosive she had toward Obsidian. “Take these. I need to do one final check of the base for any intel I might have missed. The rest of you, split up and start planting your demolitions. We’ll meet at the baserunner.”

35: The Beginning And The End (Part 3)

Beneath the baserunner, most of the team stood guard, relaxed, yet alert. Hearing hoofsteps approach from an entrance to the vehicle depot, Shadow faced the sound and tightened her grip on her pulsar. Sighting the final member of their group, Shadow lowered her weapon and nodded at Glare. “Find anything else?”

Glare sighed. “I wish I could say I didn’t. Everything Khamari said about this base’s research was true. The ADWs, the ability to create hyperspace windows in a planet’s atmosphere, and the controller technology. The details behind the controller’s functionality was particularly disturbing.”

Though his headgear obscured his expression, Khamari’s voice carried confusion and surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t know?” the mare asked flatly. “You didn’t know what the foundation of that technology was?”

“Apparently not, judging from your tone. Was it not based upon salvaging operations at the Ghost Ship, as I had assumed?”

“That’s only half the story. According to some of the earliest research notes I skimmed over, a Raider fleet came across some debris that got caught in a planetary orbit; a piece of an old Kushan frigate’s armour plating. The debris itself wasn’t of significance. Rather, a red paste that coated it.”

“Beast biomass,” Khamari stated in disbelief.

“Mmhm. A team of Raiders placed the debris in a containment field to prevent it from spreading, then constructed a research base in an isolated part of the galaxy, far from any lifeforms. This research base. Fortunately for us, they were either careless or arrogant enough to keep all backups on site. As far as I can tell, we’re about to destroy the only copies in existence of these notes.”

“Is that wise?” the Gaalsien enquired. “Perhaps there may be crucial data that can be used to counter this technology.”

Glare knocked on the side of her helmet. “My camera recorded everything I could find. What I meant to say was that the Raiders would essentially have to start from scratch after today. Or at least, figure things out with whatever devices they have already built and fielded.”

At the back of the group, Bon Bon had not recovered from the revelation, and had stood aghast throughout the conversation. “So let me get this straight. Someone decided it was a good—no, sane idea to bypass natural planetary defences against the Beast — which would burn them up in re-entry or deal fatal damage from impact — and land it safely on the surface? Nobody thought the risk of it escaping containment and devouring the planet to be an issue?”

Glare shook her head. “Apparently not. To make matters worse, a containment field requires power … which we’ve knocked out.”

The blood drained from Bon Bon’s face. “Oh no.” She quickly faced Khamari. “Tell me the backup power in this building would keep it running.”

“Up until the backup power runs out, yes. We should be long gone by then. Do we at least know where it is held, Glare?”

“Yeah, about that.” Glare paused, pawing the ground before meeting everyone’s eyes again. “You all know where the last of the Gaalsien and Raiders were, right? Remember that big cylindrical device in the centre of the room where they took cover? According to the logs, that was it.”

“And we spent a decent amount of time shooting at it,” Bon Bon pointed out. “Several parts fell off it too, which means we might have damaged it enough to allow that sample to escape. Lovely.”

A brief silence hung in the air, as the reality of the situation set in. Glare stomped a hoof and issued her next order. “Alright, everyone into the baserunner. If that thing gets loose, it will spread fast.”

None of the others needed asking twice. Glare watched the others climb into the vehicle, and looked behind her for a moment before following. Ascending to the entrance platform, Glare pulled the round metal hatch up, turning the rotary handle until it locked in place. Following the rest to the top deck, she and the others crowded around Khamari, who seated himself at the primary controls.

With the baserunner already at idle power, Khamari added power to the collective propulsor controls, causing the vehicle to ascend and sustain a hover. Setting his forward power, the baserunner accelerated, colliding with the vehicle depot’s closed doors and ploughing through the thin panels of metal and thermal insulation. Free from the research base, Khamari put several hundred metres between themselves and the structure, before coming to a stop and facing their objective. Every occupant pulled out a detonator from a pocket or pouch, and in one synchronised motion, squeezed.

The research base erupted with multiple explosions, as large chunks of its black exterior blew open in some places. Shortly after, the top floors collapsed, cascading down upon the lower floors, which in turn collapsed in a domino effect. As the floors fell, the remaining structural members were pulled down, and what little remained of the exterior structure collapsed inwards.

“Good riddance,” Khamari commented at the levelled rubble, now spewing thick, dark grey smoke high up into the atmosphere.

“You think that was enough to destroy the sample?” Glare asked.

The Gaalsien considered the possibilities. “I believe so, but I’d rather not take the chance. We should detonate the ADW regardless.”

“Agreed. Let’s deal with that turret control centre first. We’ll arm the ADW as soon as we secure our route out of here.”

Altering heading, Khamari pointed the baserunner at their final destination and brought the vehicle to cruising speed. Floating near a pair of turrets, some of his passengers took a closer look at the features of the closest turret. Single, long barrel with a counterweight, partially hidden atop its main structure; a tall minaret, as black as every other structure encountered. A small entrance extended out like a short hallway from the round base, but otherwise remained featureless externally.

Khamari however, kept his eyes on something on the horizon. “Looks like a small sandstorm developing in the distance.” Noticing the concerned look on Glare’s face, he clarified, “However, it doesn’t look at big as the one we passed upon arrival. I wouldn’t worry much about it, even if it passes through.”

At the back of the group, Swift rummaged through his bags. “Uhh, fellas? We do have enough demolitions to destroy the control centre, right? I'm coming up empty here.”

Looking at each other, most gave and received shrugs or uncertain expressions. At once, everyone rifled through the contents of their bags, until Shift called out, “Got one here. Catch.”

Bon Bon produced another explosive and passed it to Swift, “I have one more.”

Swift looked around at everyone. “That it? No one else has anything? This might complicate things.”

“Two charges should disable the defences well enough for them to not be a threat,” Khamari reassured everyone.

Shadow’s ears twitched at two words. “Well enough?”

“There is a server room in the control centre,” the Gaalsien explained. “Take that out, and the turrets lose auto targeting. There will also be a large networking conduit that leads underground and out to each turret. Destroy it where they diverge, and you sever connections for manual remote control. That should be enough to get us out in one piece.”

About a hundred metres from another dome-shaped structure identical to the power station, Glare ordered Khamari to stop. “This will do. Any idea what to expect inside?”

“Fewer personnel than the research base, but I’d imagine they’d be better armed, and prepared. Only one way in or out, and that’s through the front door. Given that they’ve been monitoring our approach, they’ll be ready. Multiple floors built as rings around the side of the dome, with an open central area. Plenty of defensive coverage for them that would have us completely surrounded from all sides.”

“We don’t exactly have an abundance of time,” Glare stated. “That fleet in orbit will pick up a large cloud of smoke over the base sooner or later, assuming they haven’t noticed the first plume, or the loss of comms contact already. Any ideas before committing to a frontal assault?”

Shadow hummed. “Perhaps. Do you still have any of those cameras you’ve used to find suitable teleportation sites?”

“I’m afraid not. Speaking of, I should swap my helmet's memory card with someone who will stay. Can’t risk losing the backup.”

Bon Bon being the closest candidate, pulled her helmet off and removed her storage device. “Right here.” Exchanging equipment with the unicorn, the officer secured her helmet back to her pressure suit.

Shadow continued contemplating alternative ideas. “Alright, take me down to the entrance with Swift and Shift. They'll provide suppressive fire while you escort me further in under the protection of your shield. Once you can identify the centre-most part of the place to teleport me to, send me in, then get everyone well clear of the structure. The rest of you can stay here. Any objections?”

Obsidian decided to ask what everyone else was thinking. “Just what exactly do you plan to do?”

“It’s like you said. You’ve only seen me wield three out of four elements, so today is your lucky day. Oh, and I almost forgot. Sparky, give your launcher to Shift.”

With a small hint of a grin, Obsidian said, “And you have a problem with me being vague every now and then.”

“A little taste of your own medicine,” the zebra responded with a grin of her own. Turning to Bon Bon, she added, “You know what’s coming. Don’t spoil it for him.”

Bon Bon’s expression went through a variety of stages, starting at confusion, before realising what her comrade had in mind. “Don’t wear yourself out too much.”

“I don’t expect another fight after this. Whenever you’re ready, Glare.”

Her horn alight, Glare disappeared with Shadow and the pegasi. Those who remained aboard watched, as the four figures flashed into existence near the control station’s entrance.

Taking the lead, Shadow raised her pulsar and shot out every camera she could find on the structure, before directing the pegasi to assemble a few metres from each side of the entrance. Positioning herself ten metres ahead of the doors, she waited until the unicorn moved up. “Break it down, Glare.”

Channelling energy to her horn, Glare identified the hinges on the double doors that blocked their path. At two-second intervals, she blasted her helical beams three times per side, punching large holes into the doors and their frame. Before the doors could topple over, Glare’s signature golden orb manifested at the tip of her horn, and she flung it beneath herself and Shadow.

With her shield established, the pair watched as the doors hit the ground with a loud thud, and immediately sighted six Raiders and a Gaalsien pointing weapons at them. Glare and Shadow stood their ground as the hostiles started firing, making little more than minor scratches on the unicorn’s barrier. After several seconds of ineffective hits on the shield, the Raiders held their fire.

Keeping her head pointed straight ahead at the Raiders, Shadow spoke into her comms. “Shift. Your turn.”

Shift took flight, hauling his bulky weapon with a little difficulty. Ensuring line of sight remained broken, he manoeuvred around for a dive and high speed flight just above the ground, and twisted his body to aim abeam his flight-path. Feeling the wind flowing over his wings, the pegasus gauged his airspeed and predicted the motion of the launcher’s projectile. Pulling the trigger, his one-shot broadside nudged him in the opposite direction, while the plasma ball flew away from him, maintaining some of Shift's momentum.

The projectile hit its mark, making it past the door frame and striking the right side wall near the Raiders, before any of them had survived long enough to realise what happened. While Shift circled around to land by the right side of the door frame, Swift took position by the left, aiming his pulsar down the short entrance hall. By the time Shift landed and swapped his plasma launcher for a pulsar, his brother confirmed no additional soldiers in the immediate area.

“… Oh, but they’re around,” Swift continued. “They’ll definitely be setting up an ambush past this choke-point.”

“They’ll all be aiming there, too,” Shadow added. “Think you can get me into position from here, Glare?”

Glare zoomed in on the interior with her headgear. “Too much clutter in the way to be certain. We might have to move up a bit before I’ll feel comfortable sending you in.”

“Understood. Swift, Shift, hold position until Glare retreats, then do the same. We’re moving up.”

Dismissing her spell, Glare conjured another orb, and sent it forward, where the entrance transitioned into the main interior. As soon as the barrier appeared, the pair proceeded into the building, using the unicorn’s shield as cover. Upon arrival, they sighted several more Raiders further in, all of whom opened fire in an attempt to pierce Glare’s barrier.

Glare searched through the semitransparent shield for a suitable destination. Beyond rows of tables, cabinets, and other overturned pieces of furniture haphazardly thrown to impede their ingress, the unicorn decided on one location close enough to the centre of the structure, yet far enough away from the Raiders that had fortified the area.

Describing the position to Shadow, Glare awaited the zebra’s approval before proceeding. Shadow appeared to smoulder, radiating heat and glowing ember-red along her darker stripes. “I’m ready when you are. Remember, once you’ve teleported me in, get out immediately. No hesitation. No delays. Understood?”

“Got it.”

Re-positioning, the pair emerged near the centre of the structure. The golden flash caught the attention of all nearby Gaalsien and Raiders, but by the time they moved to take aim, Glare had already disappeared. A fraction of a second later, the air surrounding the zebra ignited violently, and a raging blue fireball expanded rapidly, burning all in its path. Those closest to Shadow managed only to fire a couple of rounds in her general direction before being consumed, their cries audible for mere moments.

Aboard the baserunner, the only indication of what had just happened was a column of fire that shot out from the entrance, curving up slightly into the sky as it dissipated. Excluding Bon Bon, the sight shocked everyone, unsure exactly what had happened. After an uneasy silence, a breathless Shadow made contact through comms. “Control centre secured. Glare, could you bring Khamari here to confirm the appropriate components have been destroyed?”

“Will do,” replied Glare, appearing soon after inside the baserunner. “Ready, Khamari?”

Standing, Khamari nodded, waiting for the unicorn’s magic to take effect. Finding himself beside Glare at the building’s entrance, he immediately noted a hot draft of air surging from the structure. Following Swift and Shift inside, he noted much of the debris and furniture was on fire. As he looked up at the distant ceiling, he could see all the smoke had gathered at the top, trapped. The layer thickened gradually, descending toward the ground floor.

Looking around, the remains of several control stations lined the wall at one end. Open-area office spaces and cubicles sat charred black and warped near another part, plus basic living and recreational spaces resembling anything but. Khamari’s eyes however, landed upon the melted debris of server hardware up a flight of stairs, protruding from the wall to the floor above.

While the Gaalsien set off in that direction, Shift whistled as he looked around, before addressing Shadow, who remained standing at the centre. “Buck me, you did all this? We should have cleared the research base like this!”

“The base was too large and closed-off. Besides, that took a lot out of me.” Collapsing onto her back, Shadow took a moment to recover. At the same time, she opened her comms again. “Lightning? Are you still with us?”

After a pause, the pegasus’ voice answered, “Still here. How’s everything on your end?”

“Primary and secondary objectives completed. All three major structures have been destroyed, and we are ready for extraction. Look for the dome with a large vehicle parked outside it.”

“Copied. En route shortly.”

Finishing her inspection of Shadow’s handiwork, Glare moved up to her, freezing as she got close. “Uhh, hey, Shadow?”

“What is it?” Shadow responded, not bothering to look up.

“You’re … missing half an ear.”

Shadow blinked, bringing a hoof up to her left ear to find that it did indeed have a significant portion missing. “Must have been when I released my spell. Surprised I didn’t feel it.” Grimacing, she added, “Now that you’ve brought it to my attention, that is no longer the case.” Withdrawing her hoof, she inspected it for red stains. “Am I bleeding?”

Glare moved in for a closer look. “Doesn’t look like it. Pulsar round would have cauterised it, I suppose.”

Managing a tired grin, the zebra laughed her injury off. “Little souvenir to remind me of the fun we’ve had here, then.”

Returning from the upper floors, Khamari announced, “Hardware seems destroyed. I’m satisfied with safe passage out of here.”

Shadow nodded. “Thank you, Khamari. Glare, could you return us to the baserunner?”

“Of course.” Ignoring a mild headache from her previous spells, the unicorn prepared another and returned her group to their vehicle.

Clearing his throat, Khamari made for the ladder to the cargo compartment. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be preparing the ADW.”

“Arm it whenever you’re ready, Khamari,” Glare ordered. “We won’t be waiting long.”

“Should I ask about the missing ear?” Bon Bon piped up, eyeing the zebra.

Shadow gave a nonchalant reply as she leaned against the nearest wall. “The Raider’s aim was a few degrees off.”

“Ha! Of course. Alright, what’s next? How do we get home, Glare?”

“Not exactly original, but”—Glare shrugged—“same way we got here. Get to orbit, take the Lamaat, and jump out to Torri Gate. From there, we can gate out to Kyre Gate, near our planet. We’ll have to use conventional drives after that, as I doubt we’ll get through our home’s hyperspace inhibitor network. With any luck, someone from the Equestrian Navy will find and pick us up, saving us the longer journey. Should be a day’s travel.”

Bon Bon considered the plan and found no major flaws in it. “What if we can’t make it through the gate? Do we have an alternate route?”

“If it comes down to that, Nocreen Gate is an alternative, but it might extend our trip home by several days, depending on what we can get out of the Lamaat’s hyperdrive. If we can’t take any gates and are forced to rely on our hyperdrive alone, then the duration may be on the scale of weeks.”

Bon Bon nodded in approval. “Good. You’ve planned ahead.”

Khamari shouted from below. “ADW is armed. Longest I’d feel comfortable setting the countdown for is two hours. If anything survived from that Beast sample, we can’t risk it spreading this way to take control. I’ll disable the console upon activation, too. Won’t do much for the Beast, but it would stop any potential survivors from halting the countdown.”

Shift squinted at something outside. “I think I see our ride on the horizon.” Pointing a hoof at a shimmering dot, he added, “Yep, that’ll be Lightning.”

On queue, Lightning Dust established contact over comms. “Glare, I got your vehicle visual. You teleporting in?”

“Affirmative.”

“Copied. Positioning for a hover ahead.”

Leaning over the railing, Glare shouted back down to the Gaalsien, “Alright, Khamari, two hours sounds reasonable. Start the countdown and join us up here.”

Without replying, the Gaalsien entered the final keystrokes into the weapon’s console and climbed the ladder back to the top deck, arriving just as the gunship came to a hover close enough to see its pilot waving.

As Glare started channelling magic through her horn, something caught her eye in the sand behind the gunship. Moving as if it were a liquid, the sand rippled, giving way to something underneath as it neared the two vehicles. Immediately, her horn fizzed out. “Lightning, break off and climb! Break off and climb!”

Before gaining sufficient altitude, a familiar giant leaped out of the erupting sand, striking the gunship’s aft with enough force to veer it off course. Tumbling beyond the visual field of the baserunner’s external windows, the crew heard a loud impact shortly after.

“Lightning!” Glare cried.

No reply.

Focusing on the creature, Glare realised from its injured eye that it was the same kudaark they encountered earlier. It turned its attention to the baserunner and snarled. Though missing an eye, it still saw well enough to recognise the vehicle’s occupants, and moved to charge, quickly building momentum.

Khamari reached over and put the vehicle into a full reverse, though his efforts were in vain against the sprinting quadruped. As the crew braced for impact, a pair of dull bangs sounded in rapid succession, as something struck. The first hit sand. The second hit flesh, then sand.

Opening their eyes, the baserunner crew found the kudaark lifeless and headless, lying metres from their vehicle. Lightning’s gunship came into view shortly after, allowing everyone to breathe a sigh of relief, and for Khamari to set propulsors to idle.

“You had me worried, Lightning,” Glare started. “You alright up there?”

“Yeah, sorry for the silence. Comms were pretty low on my list of priorities.”

“Understandable. Status report?”

“Took a nasty hit against the sand, but evidently, managed to get airborne again. Pressure hull shows intact, but the ventral turret and several engines are throwing up errors in here. I’ll need to land and inspect the damage.”

“We have an armed ADW in our possession, and less than two hours to reach minimum safe distance. Let us know how we can assist.”

“Copied. Stand by.”

Nudging the gunship down, Lightning attempted as soft a landing as she could on the sand. Allowing the ship to settle and sink slightly into the ground, she shut down the vessel, exiting shortly after with a bag of tools slung under her. Gliding down toward the rear of the ship, she dropped her bag in the sand as the others teleported beside her.

Admiring the kudaark’s handiwork, Swift whistled. “Wow, those claws sure are something, if they can rip through an engine like that.”

Shift joined in. “Oh hey, check that out. Some of those bristles managed to pierce that bit there. The hay are those bones made of?”

Lightning raised an eyebrow at the twins. “You two seem a little too relaxed at the fact that your only way off this planet is currently grounded, while a weapon of mass destruction is ticking a few metres away.”

Swift waved a hoof in dismissal. “No point panicking if it doesn’t help. Can we repair the damage?”

“Some of them should be possible.” Pointing up at one of the gashes in the engine block, Lightning commented, “I see a few severed lines we can patch up with the gunship’s repair kit.”

Following the direction of Lightning’s hoof, Swift caught a glimpse of something arcing, sending a small shower of sparks out. “And the others?”

“Nothing I can do about them. We’re going to have reduced thrust, which will make our return to orbit a challenge. I’ll likely be burning full on the other engines, which means higher fuel consumption on tanks that weren’t full to begin with. I’d crossfeed, but something tells me a bit of what’s torn up over there would be that. Doubt we’ll have enough time to fix that.”

“Righty. Chuck us some tools, and tell us what to do.”

Working under the burning sun, the group attempted a hasty patching up of the most important engine components, managing to restore most of what had not been irreparably damaged. Calling out their time spent working on repairs at ten minute intervals, Glare announced their fortieth minute.

“Lightning, we need to leave now. Even if we can’t get every engine online, we’re risking ourselves if we don’t make it past minimum safe distance.”

“Plus, I’m fairly certain we’ve all received a lifetime supply of vitamin D here,” Swift panted lightly, tossing aside a piece of loose armour plating, while fanning himself ineffectually with his wings. “The sooner I can get out of this BPS and have a shower, the better, because I'm marinating in this. Really sealing in the flavour.”

“Okay, first, that’s just gross, Swift. Second, well aware of that, Glare,” Lightning called out, her head and forehooves buried in a tear between engines. “Give me a couple more minutes, and I should be done here. You can all get strapped in while I finish up. And get Shadow to go through the pre-start checks, but until I’m back, hooves off that engine master switch.”

Disappearing, Glare left Lightning to her own devices, while Swift and Shift returned their tools to the kit and flew off. Wiping grease from the matted fur on her hooves, the pegasus secured a loosely fitted tube over a severed pipe, clamping it at both ends. Finding the tube slightly oversized, she muttered a few swear words and re-adjusted the tube, stuffing random debris around the original pipe. “Shady repair work, but that ought to do it. I hope.”

Tossing her tools back into the bag, Lightning took flight and entered the gunship. Closing the cabin door behind her, she found Sparky and Shadow sharing a seat once again, along with Khamari and Bon Bon. Glare and Swift had seats for themselves, while Obsidian and Shift remained standing. Confirming her passengers had their helmets secured with good seals on their pressure suits, she donned the one she left beside her seat.

“Well, that’s the best I can do out there,” Lightning reported. “Managed to get another engine repaired, though I use that term loosely. It will either work, or … well, I won’t comment on the alternative. You two going to get strapped in?”

Shift shook his head, “Nah, I think I’m gonna take the risk and stand. I’ll just hold on to something.”

“Same,” Obsidian added.

“Your funerals,” Lightning replied with derision, while lowering herself into her seat. “If we decelerate hard, the back of my seat will have an imprint of your face, Shift.” Turning to the changeling, she continued, while pointing at the hull wall to her left. “And yours will probably be somewhere there. Shadow? Pre-start complete?”

Shadow nodded. “Engine master switch remained off, and associated procedures thereafter have not commenced.”

“Good.” Finishing the pre-start checks, Lightning proceeded to start each engine sequentially. As expected, one engine failed to start after building up power, while a second did not respond at all. After the ship systems stabilised as best they could, its pilot read through the master and caution reports. “Engines are running about as well as can be expected, and yeah, that ventral turret is definitely out. Other than that, I’d say we’re space-worthy. On your orders, Glare. We getting out of here?”

“Take us back to the Lamaat,” the unicorn answered.

“The sooner, the better.” Careful with her application of thrust, Lightning eventually brought engine power to maximum and climbed. “The Lamaat’s position in orbit is not ideal, so we’ll need to stay in atmosphere for a bit. We enter orbit now, and we risk exposing ourselves prematurely. We should be good to fly below the tropopause until I have the correct flight-path.”

“As long as we’re out of the blast radius, you can do a joy-flight around the planet, for all I care,” Shift remarked.

“You’re forgetting that we’ve just advertised something is seriously wrong on the surface by arming that ADW,” Shadow pointed out. “No doubt the fleet in orbit will investigate.”

“Are investigating,” Lightning corrected. “And they have an hour’s head-start on us.” Grunting, she struggled with the gunship’s controls. “Damn, this thing handles funny. Every time I compensate, some other flight characteristic decides to mess with me.”

After another adjustment, a pyrotechnic flash caught her attention ahead and to her left. Loud metallic clangs rung across the hull soon after, as the gunship was peppered with shrapnel.

“Turret fire!” Lightning yelled. “Hold on tight, evading!”

Shift managed to tighten his grip around a pair of support rails, before the gunship banked hard to the right. “What the buck, Khamari? I thought you said the turrets would be down!”

Seemingly unbothered by the danger, the Gaalsien calmly replied, “I said they’d lose auto targeting and remote control.” Humming, he came to the only possible conclusion. “That means a survivor must be at one of the turret sites, controlling it directly.”

Lightning raised her voice. “We’ve got other problems. Sensors picking up hostiles descending twelve o’clock high in re-entry. Brigands. Some on intercept vectors, some likely moving to flank.” After a quick glance at her comms stack, she also announced, “Aaaaand comms are being jammed. They know we’re here, and they think we’re a larger group than we are.”

“ETA?” Glare asked.

“Weapon’s range in ten minutes, tops.” Pulling into another turn, Lightning aimed for their destination once again. “We’ve got no choice. We’ll have to push past them.”

“Are you crazy?” Glare’s voice cracked. “Their missiles will knock us out of the sky before we get a visual on them. Assuming that turret doesn’t get us first.”

“What do you suggest? Dive and turn back? Great idea, let’s hang around the superweapon set to detonate in an hour.”

“Alright, but what are you going to do, then? We’re down a turret, engines are damaged, and I’m fairly certain our armour can’t withstand more than a couple of missiles, if that.”

“We could land somewhere beyond minimum safe distance.” Swift offered. “Any terrain we can hide in?”

Lightning shot Swift’s suggestion down as well. “And then what? We’d be swarmed by search parties.”

While the group debated, Obsidian thought of his own alternatives. None seemed perfect, though they were the best he could come up with. Going with the one he thought would work the best, he interrupted the others. “There is one way you might be able to make it out of here alive. No guarantees, though.”

Busy pulling extreme manoeuvres while ordnance exploded around them, Lightning took a moment to speak. “I’m all ears.”

“Turn around. Keep yourself out of Brigand range as long as you can, and continue evading the turret. I’ll deal with both problems at once. With any luck, I’ll have cleared a path for you to return to the Lamaat.”

“But that means you—”

“I know what it means. Either you come up with a better plan in the next thirty seconds, or I continue. Who has the last of the demolitions?”

Swift hesitated. “Yeah, right here.” Passing the charges and detonator over to the changeling, he waited for Obsidian to finish stuffing them into his pockets, then gave him his pulsar. “You're sure about this?”

“Wait, how are you supposed to get back?” Glare asked. Glancing around at the others, she saw them exchange knowing glances. Looking back at the changeling, all she managed was, “Obsidian?”

Glare watched, confused when the changeling released a cloud of energy. Something was different this time, however. Expecting his energy to snake toward herself or Khamari, it formed a cloud around Obsidian instead, growing in size and vividity, until it obscured the changeling’s body. Before she could react, the mass of energy forced its way into her, overpowering every sense shortly before she fell unconscious, limp in her restraints.

Looking over the unicorn for a moment, Obsidian blinked hard, before turning to Shift, as he secured his pulsar to his side. “When the time is right, tell her I’m sorry, alright?”

“Uh, y-yeah. I can do that.” The pegasus glanced back at Glare. “She okay? What did you give her?”

Hitting the door release mechanism, Obsidian looked back at Shadow, as the cabin rapidly lost pressure. Loose, light items danced in the air, and a light fog of condensate formed, getting sucked out shortly after. Before the howling wind could enter the cabin and meet everyone’s ears, he simply replied, “Everything.” Spreading his wings, the flow of air caught on them, and pulled Obsidian out.

Orienting himself toward the research base, Obsidian looked back as Khamari shouted his name. To his surprise, the Gaalsien had jumped overboard behind him. Flying around to intercept Khamari, Obsidian caught him in his hooves and continued his flight down to the surface.

“The buzz is wrong with you?” Obsidian berated the Gaalsien, as the pair repositioned so that Khamari pressed himself to Obsidian’s back. “What if I couldn’t hear you?”

Tightening his arms around Obsidian’s barrel ahead of his wings, Khamari explained, “Without you to sustain me, I’d soon perish. Better I follow you down to assist however I can.”

“The rest of my kind could have sustained you if you made it back to my planet. I’m not the only one who can—no. No point arguing about it now. I guess you’re stuck with me.”

Steadying himself in a glide, Obsidian spied the sandstorm that had brewed earlier, heading for his destination with mere minutes from passing through the region. Altering his heading for the weather system, he turned his head to the side, yelling over the sound of wind rushing past the two, “When you said that particular storm would not be a problem for us, how certain were you?”

“It’s a little bigger than I expected, but it won’t cause harm to your suit. Still, I would not recommend removing your helmet inside it.”

Deciding not to respond, Obsidian continued to descend. After a few minutes, he spoke up again, “I’m going to dive. Hold tight.”

Pitching down, the changeling felt Khamari tighten his grip around him once more, and the pair dropped through the front of the storm. After a few quick flaps, he pulled his wings closer to his body, while pushing the feelings of intense fatigue and hunger to the back of his mind.

He could feel it. His body screaming to metamorphosize into his more colourful brethren, while his mind battled against the process.

Must … feed …

Obsidian was damned if he were to perish here as one of them.

Riding the sandstorm front, the changeling picked up speed, descending through the last few hundred metres. Visibility dropped to less than a hundred metres, but he followed the marker on his heads up display, trusting the heading and distance readouts. As he got closer, his wings resumed their buzzing, pushing him ahead of the storm and into good visibility once more.

Sighting five dots near his target, the changeling adjusted his approach and aligned with two soldiers standing by each other. Dropping altitude, he pulled back into the storm to conceal himself, before spreading his wings straight and levelling off at neck height. Cutting effortlessly through the pair, Obsidian dropped a demolition charge near the other pair, and snatched the final soldier into the air, before any had realised what happened.

Feeding off the soldier in his grip, Obsidian extracted every last drop of energy he could, before discarding the desiccated husk. As the body fell from the sky and disappeared into the storm, the changeling pulled out his detonator, and took care of the other two soldiers. Landing by the turret, Khamari released his grip on the changeling, and the two moved to assault the turret.

Breaking down the door to the control room, Khamari aimed at a single desk beside a short staircase. Firing, he dispatched the Raider hiding behind it and advanced aggressively, with little regard for personal safety. As Obsidian entered, the pair looked up, following the stairs up the open room to a second metal grated floor, where the turret operator and his controls were located. Taking out the operator with two rounds to the chest, Obsidian performed a quick sweep of the area before he flew up and pushed the lifeless soldier to the ground.

Looking up, Obsidian found nothing but air conditioning ducts hanging from the ceiling. Based on how far away they were, he concluded there must be an additional floor or chamber above, though failing to find any kind of access from his location, he took his place at the turret controls.

“Okay, it’s just a big turret. How hard could it be to work this thing? Azimuth, inclination, that’s definitely to fire. Sensors. Where are sens—ah!”

A large screen ahead and above Obsidian displayed a sensor manager and several blips. North-west of his position were four contacts, each labelled with altitude and unique transponder codes. The broad formation headed south-easterly towards a single contact.

Khamari eyed Obsidian, who visibly relaxed upon seeing the gunship still airborne. Deciding to fortify their position just in case, he barricaded the entrance with several metal containers that had been stacked neatly at a nearby wall.

Obsidian’s attention was drawn to the screen directly ahead of him. An array of data overlayed the turret-mounted external camera feed, including arrows pointing to contacts out of visual range. Taking hold of the side-stick, Obsidian rotated the turret towards the direction of four arrows clustered in the top left corner of the screen, until they were replaced with a pair of brackets each. Ahead of each target’s flight-path was a cross, surrounded by a circle.

“Seems simple enough,” Obsidian muttered. Aligning the targeting reticle with one of the crosses, Obsidian fired. A boom and a rumble shook the structure, as a high-explosive round accelerated to several times the speed of sound. After six seconds, one of the four contacts disappeared from the overlay. The sensors manager above showed three contacts remaining from the cluster, each diverging and performing evasive manoeuvres.

Looking back at the camera, the crosses corresponding to each contact moved about, adjusting to the instantaneous velocity of the corvettes. “Okay, perhaps not as simple as I thought,” Obsidian groaned. Firing off another round, he saw no change on sensors. Swearing, he waited for the turret to reload and recharge, keeping a close eye on any patterns in the vessels’ flight-paths.

Several additional rounds whizzed towards the formation. “Buzzing hell!” Obsidian shouted, missing again and again. “Why don’t I just pick a random spot to—” Obsidian stopped, counting only two contacts after firing once more. “Okay, I’ll take it.”

Khamari looked back at Obsidian “How are you doing up there?”

“Halfway there. Looks like Lightning has realised what’s going on down here, as she’s no longer evading. If I can keep the Brigands evading instead, Lightning should be able to fly around them, and back to the Lamaat. They should—oh, buzz me, two more contacts just appeared on sensors.”

“More Brigands?”

“Probably. Similarly sized, anyway. Coming from the south. Only … they’re not heading north to join the others.”

Khamari hummed. “Let me guess. They’re heading our way.”

Swinging the turret around, Obsidian simply answered, “Yep.” Firing, he managed to take one contact out straight away, before the second started to evade. Firing a couple of extra rounds that both missed, the changeling noted the Brigands nearest to Lightning’s ship had resumed a direct course to their target.

Rotating once again, Obsidian aimed at a Brigand and fired, scattering its remains across Kharak’s skies. With the final pursuing Brigand back to evading, Obsidian once again took aim at the rapidly approaching contact that threatened him and Khamari. Though the sandstorm prohibited any useful definition of visual range, sensors eventually identified the ship as a Thief type corvette. Obsidian fired. Missing, he fired again. Firing a third time, a glancing shot struck without detonating. Debris spread out from the engine block, and the Thief lost altitude, spiralling lazily. Crashing near the turret, the impact was felt inside the turret’s control room.

Sighting the vessel at the very edge of visual range, Obsidian determined the vessel landed mostly intact. Attempting to finish off the downed corvette, he found the turret stopped short of a few degrees declination. “Great. The turret doesn’t rotate down below the horizon, and I’m seeing motion at the crash site. I think we can expect company.”

Moving up beside the changeling, Khamari took a look at the screens. “I’ll hold them off as best I can. You worry about that last Brigand. If we survive, we might be able to take that Thief. At least to clear the blast radius.”

“That’s a big ‘if’,” Obsidian replied, while Khamari left for the ground floor. Returning his hoof to the side-stick, he paused, noting an interesting quirk with the angular limitations of the turret. “We might not be able to finish that Thief off, but the other turrets around us can be targeted.”

Still climbing, Lightning made a beeline for orbit. “That Brigand is still catching up to us, but I think we should reach the Lamaat before it gets into range. Once we’re weightless, I’ll program a route for the autopilot, and we’ll jump overboard near the Lamaat.”

Shift did not feel confident with Lightning’s plan. “Mare, if you think I’m going to float in space as Raider target practice, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“First, we’re too small to register as contacts on their sensors. Second, this will convince the Raiders that we’re still aboard the gunship, which will lead any nearby Raiders away from the Lamaat. Third, I’ve already had to live through floating in a suit and being Raider target practice, so shut it,” Lightning barked back. Scanning one of her screens, some good news greeted her. “Last Brigand is off our sensors. Obsidian and Khamari have cleared the way for us.”

Behind Lightning, she heard a stirring. Glare mumbled as she came to. “Ow, my head. Where—where are we?”

“Heading back to the Lamaat. We’re safe now, thanks to …” the pegasus trailed off. “We’ll be home soon.”

Looking around, Glare quickly noted an obvious figure missing from the cabin. “Wait, where’s Khamari?” She bolted upright when another was nowhere in sight. “Where’s Obsidian?”

An uncomfortable pause hung in the air as Lightning thought of an acceptable answer. Failing to come up with one, she settled for the direct approach. “They stayed behind to keep us safe.”

Panic setting in, adrenaline surged through Glare. “Wha—on the planet? We have to go back!”

“There’s not enough time,” the pegasus countered.

Looking at the timer she set for herself back on Kharak’s surface, Glare disagreed. “If we turn back now, we can get them before the ADW detonates.”

“We can’t risk th—”

Teleporting next to Lightning, Glare grabbed the pilot by her pressure suit. “We’re NOT leaving them behind,” she growled behind gritted teeth, her horn sparking menacingly.

Shift approached the unicorn from her right. “Glare, they did what they did to get us out of there. We turn back now, and their efforts would have been for nothing.”

Swift rose from his seat, and moved to Glare’s left. “He’s right. Turning back now would—” he stopped, noting the unicorn levitating and re-attaching his side bags and pulsar to himself, then his brother. “What are you doing?”

Glare’s horn lit up once more. “Spread your wings, both of you. Lightning. You will turn back.”

Firing from his position behind the turret’s entrance, Khamari had no choice but to retreat further into the structure, falling back behind his container barricades. Counting at least twenty Raiders, the Gaalsien had only managed to wound one, as suppressive fire rained down upon him.

Obsidian dealt with other problems; having cleared the area of airborne targets, the changeling made to assist Khamari, when another pair of contacts appeared, converging on his position. Striking one down, he continued firing at the final contact, while Khamari threw the last demolition charge in the entrance foyer.

After a brief respite, the firefight broke out once more. Khamari, now with the advantage of funnelling the Raiders through a choke-point, yelled, “Now would be the perfect time to assist, Obsidian!”

“What makes you think I’m not?” came the changeling’s reply. “I’m the reason you’re only dealing with twenty.”

“‘Only’. I thought you were the one without a sense of humour.” Firing from cover, Khamari waited until additional raiders pushed through the foyer, before detonating his charge. Blasting apart the entrance, the interior became exposed to the elements, and the whistling howl of the sandstorm entered.

Moving to higher ground, Khamari climbed the stairs toward Obsidian, still firing at the last contact. As he neared the top, he spied at least twelve Raiders moving through the rubble. The closest two aimed at Obsidian, his back still to the aggressors.

“Obsidian, move!”

Diving to the side without question, Obsidian narrowly avoided a pulsar round that punched through the back of his seat. Looking back at where he had sat moments prior, the pulsar rounds tore through the turret controls and main screen, rendering the interface useless.

Peeking out from behind a large tool chest, Obsidian could see Raiders wading through the debris toward himself and Khamari. Ducking before another round could hit him, he concentrated. Vanishing in smoke, the invisible changeling had mere seconds to close the gap between himself and the Raiders, and took flight.

Wings beating furiously, Obsidian ignored the additional sounds of pulsar strikes on metal. As what sounded like falling debris met his ears, he made the decision to attack a pair of Raiders that brought up the rear, dispatching them silently with his wing blades as his spell wore off. Skidding to a halt, his hooves dug into the sand as he turned back to face the rest of the Raiders, all of whom noticed nothing.

Ten targets.

Leaping into the air, Obsidian flew vertically and hovered twenty metres above. Analysing the distribution and spacing of the Raiders, he picked out an isolated member that would not be noticed by the others, and dived. Levelling off with wings at neck height again, he made a single pass and returned to his position above.

Nine.

Noticing the Raiders had ceased fire, Obsidian’s eyes snapped to Khamari’s position. Lying near the top of the stairs with a cracked respirator and bleeding from the head, the Gaalsien was surrounded by segments of air conditioning ducts. Unconscious or dead, Obsidian saw it as irrelevant. Either way, the changeling was now alone with his last stand. Selecting a flight-path that would cause the most casualties, Obsidian dived again.

Approaching the first Raider from behind at a slight angle, Obsidian made a shallow right bank, keeping his target on his right. The impact of his progressively dulled blades still did the job, though he yawed more violently to the right. Turning sharply to the left to compensate, he aligned his left wing to the next Raider, this time using the ensuing left yaw to swing around, striking a third with his right blade.

Six.

The black blur appeared in the peripheral vision of half the remaining Raiders, and their subsequent shouting alerted the rest. By the time the first half had pointed their weapons at Obsidian, the charging changeling had eliminated two more, and used the third to absorb several rounds intended for him. Taking the third raider as a body shield, he took off into the air, while the one in his grip struggled.

As Obsidian readied to drop the Raider from a sufficient height, he gasped, as something sharp lodged into his side. Immediately releasing the Raider to his demise, he found a handle protruding between the cartilage plates that resided above his left lung. Dropping altitude quickly, he moved to position the turret between himself and the final three Raiders. Landing, he assessed his situation.

Eyeing the knife lodged in his side, his right hoof moved shakily to the handle. That’s definitely worse than Canterlot. A steady flow of crimson dripped down his pressure suit, staining the sand beneath him. Deciding not to risk bleeding out, he left the knife in place, despite the shooting pains whenever his torso made the slightest motions. Coughing, he saw a few red drops hit the inside of his helmet as he tasted iron.

Gritting his teeth, he hovered cautiously around the turret. Finding the three Raiders, he retreated as they fired, landing around the corner and covering up his blood trail before disguising himself as a small pile of random debris. Taking shaky, shallow breaths, he stayed put, resting for a moment. Sighting the Raiders around the corner, the pair drew nearer, pointing their pulsars at him for a moment, before deeming the illusion harmless and moving past, continuing with their search.

Obsidian waited until the Raiders were as close as possible. Readying his pulsar, he flared out his wings and charged the rear-most one, closing a three-metre gap. Dropping his disguise, the flash of green dazzled the Raider as Obsidian delivered a slash that missed its mark. Striking the arm, the Raider yelled and dropped his weapon, while the changeling whipped around behind him, firing his pulsar at the others. Hitting them both in the chest, he bucked off from the one in his grip, finishing him off with a final round to the back.

Zero.

Securing his pulsar, Obsidian took a moment to inspect his side. The bleeding had intensified, making it clear he had cost himself valuable time with his attack. Applying indirect pressure, he hovered slowly around, back to the turret’s interior. Finding Khamari still lying at the top of the stairs, the changeling landed near by, and inspected the Gaalsien. Finding a pulse, he looked outside, off into the distance. The downed Thief was only a short flight away, and the timer on his VMUI indicated eighty-three minutes had elapsed since the arming of the ADW, giving him a glimmer of hope.

It’s a longshot, but why not?

Standing over Khamari’s body, Obsidian did his best to hold the Gaalsien in all four hooves, before taking flight. Pushing through the pain and intense heat, he headed for the Thief, hoping it was both empty, and intact enough to fly clear of the blast zone. Clearing the building, gusty crosswinds started pushing the changeling around, as he continued for the vessel.

Focused on the Thief, a searing pain enveloped Obsidian’s right wing, as a flash of blue streaked past. He cried out, losing altitude as he went into a spiral dive, and his grip on Khamari a few metres from the ground. Falling head-first into the sand, the changeling was dazed, unable to make out anything more than a few metres ahead through his blurry vision. Looking to the right through his now cracked visor, he shakily extended his wing, or what was left of it after a large hole burned its way through the trailing half. The trailing blade had also been obliterated, with only a small fragment intact at the wing root. Grasping at nothing by his side, he realised he had lost his pulsar in the fall.

The sound of shouting caught the changeling’s attention, and he turned to face two additional Raiders, both of whom had their weapons pointed at him. Coming to the inevitable conclusion that there was no escape, Obsidian sat in the sand and raised his forehooves in surrender.

Stopping short of Obsidian, the first Raider shouted an order to the second, pointing at the changeling, who remained still as the Raider approached. In a flash, Obsidian used his remaining wing to slice across the approaching Raider’s torso. With one fluid motion, Obsidian rolled to the side, pulling out the knife in his side, and throwing it at the other Raider. Returning fire narrowly missed a hind hoof, merely singing the skin, but the Raider fell shortly after, as the knife pierced his chest.

Wheezing, Obsidian placed a hoof over his wound and applied as much pressure as he could to stem the flow. Turning around, he continued heading for the Thief. Sighting Khamari’s body thirty metres away, he made his way toward him first, taking one leaden step at a time on three hooves. Overhead, several blasts sounded, followed by impacts at the Thief. As it exploded, Obsidian stood still, in disbelief.

You cannot be buzzing serious!

Falling on his haunches, the changeling gave up. His vision continued to blur, and he swayed for a moment, before toppling over onto his right side. As he heard the roar of another Thief’s engines come to a crescendo, he could feel the vessel touch down. Exiting the vessel, many more Raiders approached Obsidian, completely surrounding him. Despite his state, the Raiders remained several metres from the changeling, closing in only after one of the Raiders issued a command.

Taking a step forward, the Raiders were knocked back when a large golden barrier materialised around Obsidian. In an impeccably coordinated feat, Swift and Shift landed hard, just ahead of Obsidian, carrying Glare. Released from the twins’ grip, the unicorn moved immediately to Obsidian’s side.

Though his eyelids were heavy and his vision offered no more than a bright yellow blob, Obsidian knew the sound of that spell, and the one who stood over him. “What … are you … doing here?”

“I’m getting you out of here. I wasn’t going to leave you behind.” Applying pressure to the changeling’s wound, Glare shouted, “Shift! First aid kit!”

Tossing Glare one of his side-bags, Shift kept his pulsar ready while Glare levitated equipment out in a frenzied blur. Haemostatic sprays and dressings, surgical tape, chest injury seals … One by one, the unicorn’s increasingly reddened and shaky hooves applied and secured each item, while the twins and the Raiders watched. “You’re going to be fine. You-you’re going to be okay. See? No more bleeding.”

Looking to Obsidian for any reaction, Glare found a vacant stare and no reply. “Obsidian? Obsidian!” Frantically going through the changeling’s vitals on his VMUI, time stood still for her. “No pulse. H-he’s got no pulse!” Placing her hooves over Obsidian’s heart, she began chest compressions. “Shift! Shift, help me!”

“I don’t have any—”

“Just help him breathe!” Glare shrieked, throwing more of her weight into each compression. “Don’t you dare give up now, you stupid bug!”

Removing his helmet, Shift moved to Obsidian’s head, detaching the changeling’s soon after. Giving Obsidian breaths at regular intervals, he and Glare attempted resuscitation. Minutes passed, and the Raiders continued to hold their position outside Glare’s barrier. Every so often, one would test the shield by firing a single round into it, while its occupants continued their revival efforts.

As they came up on fifteen minutes with no positive indications from Obsidian’s VMUI, Swift put a hoof on Glare’s withers. “I think it’s time to stop.”

The unicorn shrugged Swift off, tears streaming down her face. “N-no, just a bit more.” Exhausted, her compressions slowed, though she persisted.

“Glare, he’s gone. I’m sorry, but if we don’t leave soon, our fate will be his.”

With one final compression, the unicorn stopped. As reality hit, her tears flowed freely as she wailed without a care to her audience. Swift made to move immediately to Glare, but was stopped when Shift shook his head silently at him. Opting to give Glare more time, he stepped back.

As the unicorn wept, her eyes met those of the nearest Raider, and grief mixed with rage. Her horn sparked once. Then again. Energy coursed through her, and it felt as if the ground itself started to rumble. Swift and Shift instinctively made themselves a smaller target, lowering their heads and crouching low, though neither was sure why.

They soon found out, as Glare cried out, and unleashed the deafening wrath of a star. Countless helical beams blasted radially in rapid, uncontrollable succession, as if they were rays of light, and the unicorn was the sun itself. Tearing through her barrier, the beams pierced the surrounding Raiders, the blasts continuing for another half minute, long after their screams were silenced. Glare’s screams turned to those of agony, as the spell took its toll and eventually depleted her. As the spell died out, she fell to the ground beside Obsidian, curled into a ball and clutching her head with a whimper.

Silence fell. Even the winds themselves seemed to come to a standstill, leaving only a ringing in the ears. Swift and Shift raised their heads, mouths agape. Around them stood pairs of steaming legs, the bodies which they were once attached to completely vaporised. A scorched ring of decimated land gouged a trench into the sand, which slowly refilled from its surroundings. The Thief that had landed near by had all but been erased, leaving a small piece of lower hull in the sand as evidence it had ever existed.

In the centre of it all, the group remained where they were as the wind picked up, and the sandstorm started to close in on them.

Author's Note

Almost there! I will partly blame this longer period of inactivity on a little side project I'm working on, which is to create a more developed and fleshed out Kushan language, based on canon, a couple of fan additions, and a majority of original additions. Vocabulary, grammar, the symbols of each letter and number, the whole shebang! Same one used in this story, but with many revisions since.

Those interested can view it here. Those interested in joining the small team assisting me can send me a message.

36: Nothing Can Take Us Far Enough

With the storm picking up again, the twins turned their attention back down to Glare, who lacked the strength to do more than sob quietly. Leaning over, Shift whispered to his brother, “What do we do now?”

“I … I’m going to keep watch. Stick with Glare until Lightning returns. There’s no way she would have missed that light show.”

“Wait, what about Khamari?” Swift looked around, remembering he saw the Gaalsien’s body somewhere near by. Off to his right, he found Khamari face down near the outer edge of the trench Glare had carved out, and set off to retrieve him. Still alive, Swift searched the Gaalsien for injuries, finding only a trickle of blood from the top of the head, noting the destroyed respirator in loose fragments. Careful not to exacerbate any potential neck injuries, the pegasus lifted Khamari and returned to the others.

As he landed, the sound of an approaching gunship rumbled overhead. Punching a hole through the sandstorm, the gunship came in fast, leaving a swirling sandy wake that obscured the sky once more. At the last moment, Lightning lost her speed, landing less than gracefully in the sand as close as she could safely allow.

Sighting the already open cabin door, Shift carried Obsidian’s body, while Swift followed with Glare, who remained delirious after releasing her spell. Depositing them on the floor of the gunship, Swift flew out again to retrieve Khamari. The rest of the gunship’s occupants looked to Shift for answers. “We were too late. We lost him just after we touched down. Khamari is still alive, but I’m not sure how bad his injuries are.”

“As much as I wish we had the time to mourn, I’ll need you all to wait a little longer.” Pausing as Swift returned, Lightning ordered, “Get that hatch closed, and treat Khamari later. We’re racing the clock.”

Placing Khamari on the floor, Swift stumbled while he sealed the cabin, as Lightning lacked the time to wait for a reply. Pushing her throttle as far forward as it would go, she heard Khamari and Obsidian sliding back as the vessel accelerated. Holding on to an internal support structure with one hoof, Swift caught the Gaalsien with another. Glare followed suit with Obsidian, though without anything to grasp nearby, the pair slid back, smearing a faint trail of Obsidian's blood across the floor from the unicorn's stained hooves.

Establishing herself in the best rate of climb, Lightning remained tense, eyes flicking every so often between her primary flight display, and a countdown timer. Passing through thirty thousand metres altitude, the timer dropped to single-digit seconds. “Here we go. We’re either going to feel nothing, or be knocked out of the sky. Either way, we’ve done our duty.”

No one replied. Those that had access to a screen remained fixated on the rear external camera, while those further away squinted and leaned as close as they could. Shortly after the timer reached zero, a dazzling flash of white lit up at the detonation site, before collapsing on itself. The momentary display was a mere pinprick, compared to the shades of deep red and dark orange that followed in a rapidly expanding spherical flammagenitus, and an even faster pale yellow condensation ring that raced out in every direction.

Lightning watched the explosion play out. To think what one of those could have done to Equestria. It would have wiped out everything all the way to the Crystal Empire. Glancing behind her, everyone else’s expressions suggested they shared her sentiments. Or at least, everyone aside from Glare, who sat at the back, rocking to and fro with Obsidian in her hooves.

Exhaling slowly, Lightning faced forward again. As she passed through each atmospheric layer, the turbulence lessened. “I think it’s safe to say we’ve beaten the ADW,” she commented as she approached orbit and set drives to idle. “It’s over. If anyone wants to check Khamari over, we’ve got a few minutes.”

Volunteering, Shadow unfastened her harness. “I’ll do it.” Heading toward a large medical kit secured against one of the cabin walls, she searched for several diagnostic tools and moved to the Gaalsien’s side.

Coasting along to their destination, the cabin remained eerily quiet. Though still moderately disoriented, Glare’s ear flicked and swivelled to the faint sound of something pressed against it. “L-Lightning?”

“Yeah, Glare?”

“You cut the engines, right?”

“A few seconds ago. Why?”

Pressing her head closer to Obsidian, the unicorn’s eyes widened. “I think … Lightning, I think he’s still alive!”

Snapping up, Shadow yelled, “Swift, take over! Bon Bon! O2, BVM, IV saline, and whatever procoagulant you can find!” Moving over to Obsidian, she instructed Glare to lay Obsidian flat.

Bon Bon arrived with the first set of equipment. “Oxygen bottle at six litres a minute, and bag valve mask with tubing attached.” Without waiting for a reply, the mare took off toward the medical kit once more.

Attaching the mask to Obsidian, Shadow looked at Glare. “Squeeze the bag every five seconds, like so …” Demonstrating, she observed a visible rise in Obsidian’s chest, and allowed Glare to continue for her, while palpating one of the changeling’s hooves near a joint. “Please tell me his physiology is close enough to ours.”

While Bon Bon fished out a small IV infusion pump, saline bag, and a small liquid vial, Lightning called out from the front, “Just a heads up. We’re approaching the Lamaat. Glare, are you able to teleport us over, or are we going to have to jump overboard?”

The unicorn still felt as if her head would split open at any second. With newfound energy, she did her best to ignore it, and responded, “I’ll try. Obsidian’s suit is ruptured anyway. He can’t do vacuum.”

“Do what you can. We’ve got company. They’ll be well clear of the Lamaat, even if we did have to go through vacuum, but I’d rather the extra safety buffer.”

Continuing her intermittent ventilation for Obsidian, Glare squinted at one of Lightning’s secondary displays, monitoring the distance to the Lamaat. Preparing her spell, a throbbing, burning sensation washed over her horn as she visualised her destination, discharging her magic as the gunship flew abeam.

A sudden feeling of weightlessness hit everyone, as they appeared on the Lamaat’s darkened bridge. Freezing temperatures penetrated their suits shortly after. Securing herself to the commander’s seat, Lightning restarted the main powerplant, and set temperature and oxygen to suitable levels. “Life support online. Using minimum power, we should remain undetected in the debris. We can stay here as long as we need to.”

Having finally found a vein, Shadow administered a saline solution for Obsidian. Activating the pump, she relaxed slightly. “That should buy him some time. But … Shift said he was gone, Glare. How did you determine—”

“Look at his VMUI.” Showing Shadow the device attached to Obsidian’s right forehoof, Glare explained, “It never registered a pulse or pressure, but the device is otherwise perfectly functional. I had no reason to think it might have been defective.”

The zebra tilted her head and read the appropriate page on Obsidian’s vitals, which did indeed suggest the changeling was not among the living. “I doubt it’s defective. I don’t think they were ever designed with changelings in mind, though.”

Glare’s eyes showed a flicker of hope. “So, do you think he’ll make it? We—we didn’t make anything worse, did we?”

Shadow looked back at Obsidian. After a moment’s silence, she gave her honest opinion. “I don’t know. You’ve likely stopped most of the bleeding on Kharak, but unless he can clot the remainder himself, I don’t see a positive prognosis, especially in zero-G. On top of that, our brains can’t go more than ten minutes without oxygen, before there’s permanent damage, and that’s under ideal conditions.”

Glare’s ears fell. Hunched over, she stared at her reddened hooves. “It would have been over ten minutes since I stopped compressions.”

“As much as I’d like to see him make a complete recovery, I do not wish to get your hopes up. That said, a more accurate monitor would do us a lot of good here. Bon Bon!”

“On it.” Retrieving a black and orange carry case, Bon Bon set it down near Obsidian and opened the back half of a medical monitor. Removing electrodes, a pulse oximeter, and a blood pressure cuff, she attached the relevant equipment to the changeling, and waited for the readings to show on the device’s screen. “Well, if changelings are anything like us, he’s still in trouble. Pulse is almost triple normal, and blood pressure is definitely low. Shame we don’t have a bag of changeling blood on hoof.”

Without missing a beat, Glare asked, “What happens if I give him some of mine?”

Shadow hummed. “Not sure. Between equine species, its possible, assuming the blood types are compatible, and I know of some cases where more dissimilar species have done so successfully, but is that a risk we’re willing to take?”

“Khamari’s stasis pod, then,” the unicorn suggested. “We can keep Obsidian there until we can get him proper treatment.”

“I don’t know if those work on all lifeforms, or if they are designed specifically for Hiigarans. Plus, I’m not sure if there are consequences for using it on someone in this condition.”

Glare looked down at the changeling, as she thought. Considering the options, she met Shadow’s eyes. “Alright, worst case for stasis?”

“The process could be fatal, either instantaneously, or during the thawing process.”

“And transfusion?”

“At worst, kidney damage, and pulmonary edema, which would eventually be fatal. The rate and severity of symptoms would be based on the type and amount of blood given. I think we can get back home in time to prevent any lasting kidney damage, but the lungs … ? Hard to say. That’s the extent of my medical knowledge. Five hours perhaps?”

“If it helps, I’m a universal donor,” Swift called out, still keeping an eye on Khamari. “Shift, too.”

“Thanks, Swift. But will five hours be enough time for us to jump back to the hyperspace gate and return home? Lightning?”

Lightning ran the numbers as she talked. “I’ll need twenty minutes to charge the hyperdrive, and a two hour jump to Tandall Gate. Khamari’s gate sequence commands are saved, so I can change the destination to Kyre Gate. Charge drives once again, and we’re a short jump from home. Or at least, to a Navy patrol that could help us.”

“Two hours and forty minutes. We’re already pushing it as it is.” Glare took a deep breath before making her decision. “Alright, Shadow. Let’s do it. Give him the absolute minimum you think he’d need.”

The zebra nodded. “Bon Bon, run a line directly from Swift to the pump. We’ll do half a unit and take it from there. Lightning, any chance we could get some gravity?”

Lightning hesitated. “I can bring artificial gravity online, but we’ve got another problem. The Raiders are searching the area and seem to be getting closer.” Humming, she came to a realisation. “If they think we’re part of a bigger force, they might also be thinking we have cloaked ships somewhere. I think they’ll pass by in a bit, but until then, artificial gravity would risk giving away our position. Can it wait?”

“I’ve got Obsidian on coagulants. Gravity would lower his risk of clotting in places we don’t want him to.”

Inspecting her surroundings, Lightning found another solution. “I think I might have just enough room to spin the Lamaat instead. Still a risk, but only if there’s someone in visual range searching in our direction.”

“We’ll take that risk.”

“Then secure any loose items, and position yourselves upside down on the ceiling. Once I start, everything will be pushed in that direction.”

Nudging themselves toward the ceiling, Glare, Shadow, Bon Bon and Swift positioned themselves, Obsidian, and their medical equipment upwards and upside down, while the other passengers followed suit, looking after Khamari.

Lightning moved the Lamaat on thrusters just far enough from the scaffold debris to prepare for her manoeuvre. Holding position, she put the vessel into a roll about its longitudinal axis, slowly increasing the rate of rotation, until she felt the G forces were a reasonable approximation of gravity back home.

Haunches planted firmly on the ceiling, Shadow called out, “That’s perfect, Lightning. Bon Bon, do what you need to for Swift.”

Still strapped in, Lightning remained at the controls instead of joining the others. “Sparky, you may need to take over for me, if I have to stay like this for an extended amount of time.”

“Got it.”

“I thought we were going to leave soon,” Glare commented.

“As soon as I start charging the hyperdrives, we might as well be broadcasting an open invitation for all Raiders to swing by and say hello. I want to make sure they’re far enough from us when that happens.”

The unicorn groaned. “Anything else to work against us?”

While Lightning dangled from her seat above everyone else, Bon Bon hooked Swift up to the infusion pump, and set the volume to be transferred to Obsidian on the device. After the pump purged Swift’s line of air and primed it, the transparent tube filled with the pegasus’ blood, making its way slowly toward the device and mixing with the rest of the liquids bound for Obsidian.

“Half a unit will take about four hours to fully transfer,” Bon Bon explained.

“Four hours?” Swift almost shouted in surprise. “Last time I donated, I was done in twenty minutes!”

“If it weren’t for the urgency, I’d have hooked you up to a bag instead, and you would have been done that quickly. Since this is a direct transfusion, the limitation is how much we can put into Obsidian in one go. If he does survive, my other concern is that we lacked the time to even test your blood.”

“Hey, I’m clean, if that’s what you’re concerned about! My medical was not that long ago. Besides, I don’t know about you fellas, but if bad blood saved my flank, I’ll take it, regardless.”

Bon Bon couldn’t argue with the logic. “I suppose so. Alright, get comfortable.”

Two hours passed in relative silence, and the Raider search parties had yet to give up. Since then, Lightning had swapped with Sparky twice, and once with Shadow. Now back at the controls once again, Shadow resumed her watch over Obsidian with Glare.

“Any change?” the zebra asked.

Glare shook her head. “Blood pressure is still low, but it looks like it’s rising steadily. I don’t get it. He should have woken up by now.”

“We’ve made a lot of assumptions about his condition and treatment, Glare. Please understand that there is a chance he may not recover, whether fully, or at all.”

Glare sniffed and nodded, never taking her eyes off Obsidian. Gingerly holding the last remnants of the changeling’s right wing, she asked, “Do you think his wings grow back?”

“Probably not. If he survives, I doubt he’ll fly again.”

“I just wish we could leave already,” the unicorn muttered.

Without moving from his prone position, Swift commented, “Hopefully he takes it better than a pegasus.”

Glare gave Swift a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“Well, flying is kind of a big thing for us. Lotta fellas back home who suffered from major depressive episodes, just from being temporarily grounded, let alone from permanent conditions.”

The unicorn made to reply, when Lightning caught her attention. Looking up, she found the pegasus running simulations on one of her screens. Eventually, Lightning raised her voice. “Well, the Raiders haven’t put that much more distance on us, but I think I might have a way to increase that gap.”

Standing, Glare positioned herself so Lightning could see her. “Let’s hear it, then.”

“In one go, full powerplant output, charge the drives, and burn as hard was we can in the opposite direction to the Raiders.”

“… Right into Kharak?”

“Close. We’ll soon be in a position to make the most of some gravity assist. Point the engines in the right direction, and we can go faster than we normally would with our limited time. We then break from orbit so as to maximise our distance from the Raiders. Or, at least limit how fast they gain on us.”

“A slingshot manoeuvre,” Bon Bon mused. “Clever. We go faster, and the capital ships can’t hyperspace in so close to a gravity source. No heavy weapons to deal with.”

“And no hyperspace inhibitors in range. Now, everyone move back down to the floor. Artificial gravity will soon return,” Lightning advised, as she commenced starting sequences for various systems. Applying opposing torque through thrusters, she slowed the Lamaat’s rotation until the stars stopped spinning, giving everyone a chance to reposition to the floor. The faint humming throughout the ship intensified, as power output increased. “Hyperdrives charging. Artificial gravity increasing. Course plotted for slingshot.”

Slipping away from the scaffold debris, the Lamaat dipped and weaved through the smaller chunks of metal and wire that floated about. Clearing the derelict, Lightning adjusted her heading, and accelerated with a heading just below Kharak’s horizon. “And with that, I can see large heading changes on Raider strike craft. They know we’re here.”

“Do we have the distance to escape?” Glare asked.

“I’ll have to skim the exosphere, but the Lamaat can handle it. I’ve got it flying on auto, but let me concentrate, in case I need to take manual control.”

The minutes ticked by, and while the distant Raiders continued their pursuit, Lightning brought the Lamaat closer to the planet. Reaching Kharak’s periapsis, the pegasus adjusted to a purely prograde heading and continued with maximum engine output.

With seven minutes left before the hyperdrive would be ready, Lightning noticed an unusual reading. “Hey, I’m picking up a hyperspace signature. Looks like the Raiders have called in— … Wait, that can’t be right. Mothership class signature?”

Though Kharak now stood between the Lamaat and the new arrival, Lightning checked the drive signature of the new arrival against known vessel types in the ship’s database. When a match was found, her eyes widened. “It’s Aurora!”

Swift frowned. “Just Aurora? Even fully loaded, I’d have expected a fleet to accompany her.”

“Aurora is never alone,” Bon Bon replied.

“And I’m fairly certain I know what’s about to happen,” Lightning added. Though unable to see Aurora turning transparent, or shining with increasing intensity like an ever-growing star, she could make out part of a rainbow shockwave that blasted out from its source, in a supernova that passed through every ship it touched. As it raced past the planet and toward the Lamaat, its occupants felt the wave wash over them, before continuing further out. A glance at several warning indications revealed the Lamaat’s weaponry had been disabled. “Yep, that was a blast by the Elements. Most, if not all weaponry in the area would have stopped functioning, which clears the way for … Yep, additional hyperspace signatures detected.”

Lightning detected at least twenty hyperspace signatures around Aurora in a loose spherical formation. Two unfamiliar capital ships appeared to zoom out from their windows and turn with incredible ease, given their size. Lightning scrambled to pick up some sort of fleet network, and sure enough, she was able to use standard Navy codes to decrypt data transmitted to friendlies. Searching the visual feeds for the unknown ships, Lightning found one of a cog-shaped vessel that had moved to the far edges of the battle zone, circling prey and pelting them from afar.

Two supercarriers split off, launching their contingents of interceptors and bombers. Additional spherical fighters emerged from the carriers, through instead of flying off with the rest of the interceptors and bombers, they remained close to their carriers as escorts. Two Hiigaran battleships joined, along with three carriers, while three destroyers and eight torpedo frigates accompanied as escorts.

“Er Khar Lamaat, Aurora.”

Lightning took a moment to realise Aurora’s fleet had come for them. “Aurora, go ahead. Glad to see some friendlies for once.”

“Good to know you’re still out there. Transmit your position if safe to do so.”

“Willco, transmitting now.”

Sending her location, Lightning returned to monitoring the situation. Several new hyperspace signatures registered, though this time, they showed up as Raiders. Sure enough, a Rancor, four Vindicators, and two Honorguards arrived in the thick of the fleet, each escorted by a pair of Daggers.

Aurora’s fleet reacted immediately, shifting attention to the arrivals that had not been affected by the Elements of Harmony. To a Hiigaran battleship’s delight, one Vindicator had the extreme misfortune to emerge directly in front of the vessel, and was subjected to the full force of its quad ion cannon battery. Along with two twin ion turrets, an artillery battery, and fourteen pairs of kinetic mass drivers, the Raider vessel was unrecognisable long before its hyperspace window dissipated.

The Honorguard battleships altered their headings for the Hiigaran battleships. While multiple frigates and destroyers rained torpedoes and mass driver rounds down on the enemy hulls, the Honorguards fired a single slug each, tearing straight through the ventral armour that surrounded each vessel's engineering compartments. Within seconds, the lights on the Hiigaran battleships flickered and died out, leaving basic systems and a few mass drivers online.

Another transmission from Aurora pulled Lightning away from her external feed. “Er Khar Lamaat, position identified. We’re detecting a quantum signature from your ship. Can you jump to our fleet?”

“Negative, not for another two minutes.”

“That will give us time to bring down the Raider’s hyperspace inhibitor. We’re sending you exit coordinates now.”

A few seconds later, the relevant data had been received, and Lightning amended the data in the hyperspace targeting computer. “Coordinates received, Aurora. We’ll be there in one minute. Request a medical team on arrival. One in a serious state, and another critical.”

“Copy. Vortex Sleipnir, cancel attack orders and intercept for pick-up.”

The vessel in question took a few seconds to respond, as it completed its final revolution around a disabled Vindicator with multiple holes punched through its armour. A female’s voice joined the comms channel. “Willco, Aurora. ETA, two minutes, Sleipnir.”

“Everyone hear that? We’re going home.” Putting herself to work, Lightning cancelled the Lamaat’s original navigation sequence and readied the ship for hyperspace, confirming no inhibitor field remained near her destination. As quickly as the hyperspace window consumed the ship, it ejected the Lamaat closer to the battlefield.

“Lamaat, Sleipnir,” the same voice returned. “We’re sending you automatic guidance vectors for our starboard hangar entry, and you’re cleared to dock. Receiving crews and medical teams standing by. Sleipnir out.”

Inputting the received vectors, Lightning allowed the Lamaat’s systems to take over. Making minor speed and heading alterations, the vessel positioned itself on the required approach profile, and intercepted Sleipnir. Closing in, the Lamaat paralleled the larger vessel, until it slowed to a crawl abeam the hangar at a hundred metres. Turning ninety degrees, the Lamaat fit through the entrance, coming to a halt by the nearest set of compatible couplings.

Multiple dulled clangs echoed throughout the ship, signifying the engagement of the couplings, and the attachment of the Sleipnir’s gangway to the airlock. Shutting down her engines, Lightning rose from her seat, following as the others started making their way to the airlock.

The group stood in uneasy silence, while cabin pressures equalised. At the completion of the procedure, Shadow opened the Lamaat to those on the other side. Six armed unicorns entered first, two of whom spread out to search the vicinity. A seventh one entered shortly after, bearing the insignia of a Lieutenant Commander. The officer looked around at the Lamaat’s crew, his eyes lingering on Glare’s forehooves, before simply asking, “Who is in charge here?”

Glare opened her mouth, but Shadow stepped forward first. “That would be me.”

Turning to the two unconscious figures, the officer added, “I assume those are the patients?” Receiving a nod from the zebra, the officer spoke into his comms, “Immediate area secured. Send them in.”

Two pairs of medical crew crossed the gangway and boarded the Lamaat, pushing one of two gurneys toward Obsidian and Khamari. While they worked with their patients, the ranking officer addressed his security detail. “Take the rest to the brig.”

Glare looked as if she had been slapped in the face. “Brig? But we—”

“Glare,” Shadow interjected. “After everything that has happened from their perspective, this is just standard procedure. They’ll need to know what happened, and why.” Turning to the officer, she added, “Commander, Specialist Swift will need to stay with the Chief until he is stabilised.”

The Lieutenant Commander looked between Obsidian and Swift, noting a pump and tubes connecting the pair. He nodded. “Very well. He’ll be escorted to the brig afterwards.”

Glare cast a worried look at Obsidian, then to Swift. The pegasus gave a reassuring smile. “He’ll be fine. I’ll update you when I can.” Waiting for the medical crew to transfer Obsidian to a gurney, the pegasus turned, taking care not to trip over his tubing, as he followed a medic and guard onto Sleipnir.

As Khamari was loaded onto the second gurney, the others disembarked in pairs. Additional guards waited aboard Sleipnir, and a pair split off to escort Swift and the medical crew elsewhere. Once out of sight, the ranking officer inhaled sharply, and faced Shadow. “You. Follow me. Aurora has requested individual statements from you and the others.” Turning to one of his guards, he added, “Take the rest to the brig and keep them there until I return.”

As the groups left, a tone sounded throughout the ship. “This is the Captain. Stand by for immediate hyperspace jump.”

Somewhere overhead, a ticking echoed subtly with each passing second. The sound was familiar to Obsidian yet he couldn’t figure out where he had heard it. Stirring, he forced his heavy eyelids open, and a hospital room came into focus.

Turning his head to one side, he found a pony with her back to him. Judging by the attire, and her replenishment of medical equipment in sterile packaging, the changeling assumed the beige unicorn was a nurse. Pushing himself up, Obsidian found the task painfully difficult. His hooves felt like lead, and a tugging pain shot from his wounded side as he positioned himself in a semi-reclined position.

Hearing the rustling of sheets, the nurse glanced behind her, before dropping what she was doing. “I would advise against unnecessary movement. It won’t be pleasant to fix any torn stitches,” she started, moving to the nearest side of the bed and pausing to give Obsidian’s injuries a quick look over. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Obsidian. Where am I?”

“Canterlot Hospital. You were recently in surgery aboard one of the Navy vessels,” the nurse explained. “Princess Celestia herself transferred you down from orbit after you were stable for transit.”

“Did she? Interesting.”

“Mmhm. She asked to be informed when you woke, but before I do, I must inform you of the surgery outcome. The surgeons did their best to preserve as much—”

Obsidian extended his right wing and interrupted, “I assume you were going to inform me that two thirds of my wing is missing? And that I’ll be ground-bound for the rest of my life?”

“I guess you were aware of that already. As for your other injury, you lost a lot of blood, and we only recently received an urgent delivery from your hive. Your squad bought you some time with an incompatible blood donation, but we’ll need to treat you for that, as well.”

“How long will I be stuck here?”

“The Doctor handling your case will be able to give you more details, but given your case is unique, she may need some time to gather more information. To be honest, nopony expected you to pull through, with that much blood loss for that much time.”

“Most likely my stores of energy bought me time,” Obsidian guessed.

“I hope you realise how incredibly lucky you are, then. Any questions before I leave?”

Shaking his head, Obsidian watched the nurse close the door to his room as she left him to his thoughts. Sinking back down into his bed, he stared blankly up at the ceiling, flexing what little remained of his wing. Trying to understand his lack of reaction to what happened, the changeling was unsure if he had already accepted his new reality, or if that reality had yet to sink in.

After a couple of minutes alone, Obsidian heard the sound of galloping. As the sound drew nearer, he pushed himself upright again, with barely any time to register the door being thrown violently aside, or a yellow fur missile that filled his vision.

Obsidian winced at the impact. “Oof! Not so hard, Glare!”

Glare wrapped her hooves around the changeling, tears streaming down her face. “I thought I’d lost you on that planet.”

Obsidian chose not to reply, and simply returned the hug. After a moment of silence, he said, “You were a fool to return, you know that? You risked everyone else’s lives just for me.”

“And I would have done it again if I had to.”

“I know. Thanks.” Releasing the mare, Obsidian allowed her to pull a nearby set forward. As she sat down, the changeling noticed Glare’s stained forehooves. “What happened to your hooves?”

“Your blood,” the unicorn stated. “I did what I could to stop you from bleeding out on Kharak.”

“Speaking of, how did you fight off the Raiders on Kharak? Last thing I remembered was you, the twins, and your shield.”

“I’m not entirely sure, myself. I don’t know if it was the result of that massive energy transfer of yours before you jumped overboard, or if it was the reaction to thinking you hadn’t made it, but … Well, you once referred to my spell as an underpowered solar cannon, remember? Whatever I did wiped out everything around me. Almost blasted Swift and Shift’s heads off. Khamari, too.”

“The transfer …” Obsidian repeated, recalling what he had done. “Glare, I’m so sorr—”

“Leave me to worry about those memories. The emotional hit was a bit delayed, but I worked through the worst parts already.” Glare sighed, adding, “I knew your history with Equestria was bad, but this new perspective? That emptiness from those that passed away? I never knew.”

“I wish I hadn’t done what I did to you. It was selfish.”

“How so?”

“I intended to return to Kharak’s surface for good. My reasoning was that someone should carry my strongest memories.”

“In a way, I’m glad you did.”

“I didn’t expect you to come for me. It never crossed my mind that you would have to deal with those Raider deaths on top of everything else.”

“The strange thing is, it didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would. It was them or you, and I made my choice, no hesitation. Was I in a fit of rage after seeing you in the sand like that? Absolutely. Did I wish there would have been an alternate? Of course.”

Obsidian gave a weak chuckle. “And you were once worried you’d go from one self-defence kill, to a serial killer relishing each life taken. It’s not so black and white, is it?”

Glare looked down at the ground. “No. I think my sheltered life is to blame for that. Both within my family, and within Equestria. We take peace for granted, even with the occasional monster or villain. Out there across the galaxy, though? That’s the raw reality.

A soft knock caught the pair’s attention. Getting up, Glare opened the door to find the royal sisters facing her. “Princess Celestia! Princess Luna!”

“We were informed that Obsidian has woken,” the eldest spoke. “May we come in?”

Glare turned to Obsidian for his approval. Receiving a nod, Glare stepped aside and allowed the pair to enter, before returning to her seat.

“I am relieved to see you awake, Obsidian. The reports I’ve read were interesting, to say the least. I’m sorry about your wing.”

Obsidian hummed. “Doubt I would have lost it if proper action had been taken in Hiigara.”

“Perhaps. I’ve already made arrangements with a Hiigaran and Equestrian team to develop a working prosthetic. It’s the least we could do. We can discuss those details at a more appropriate time, however. After reviewing the events that had transpired, my sister and I had to discuss the more unpleasant consequences of your mission. Disobeying orders, abandoning posts, stealing military equipment, assaulting allies, and what amounts to piracy, are the list of charges some in the Navy wish to court martial you and your team with. Despite all the good that your team did, the Navy does not wish to … how did Admiral Foxtrot put it?”

“Reward bad behaviour,” Luna quoted.

“Yes, the Navy does not wish to reward bad behaviour, as it may encourage others to do the same. It worked out for your team, but history shows this to have negative outcomes most of the time, thanks to glory seekers, or those who try to play hero,” Celestia finished. Pausing, she could see the weight of her words sinking it, but continued before anyone had the chance to interrupt. “Fortunately, my sister managed to get the good Admiral to back down, while I smoothed things over with Hiigara. Officially, there is to be no record of the past few days, beyond your original orders, and anyone involved will be signing non-disclosure agreements.”

“So that’s it? We’re pretending nothing happened?” Glare asked.

“Essentially, yes. Regardless, my sister and I felt it was fitting to reward you for your actions on Kharak, Obsidian.”

The changeling gave the Princesses a quizzical look. “Why? What makes me so special?”

“It’s not so much what makes you special,” Celestia explained. “Rather, it is something you lack that the others possess. Luna?”

“We understand the history of conflict between our nations, and the level of mistrust that remains. However, in light of your actions, which not only safeguarded your people, but those of our entire planet, we felt that the cold, calculated response of our military was an insult. While my sister and I lack the authority to speak on behalf of every nation of our planet, we will say this. As you have bled for us, we see fit to formally recognise you as one of us. From this day forth, we grant you Equestrian citizenship and all the rights it carries.”

Obsidian blinked. “I’m … not sure what to say.”

“You need not say anything. Should you accept, visit the palace at your convenience, and one of our assistants can finalise the paperwork.” Nodding to her sister, Luna turned and started for the door. “Unless you have any questions, we’ll leave you two alone.”

“Actually, I have an unrelated question,” Glare started. “What happened to Khamari?”

Luna stopped, facing the unicorn again. “The Gaalsien? He requested political asylum the moment he woke, and asked that if Hiigara does not provide amnesty for the Gaalsien, that we offer a safe haven from them to leave the Raiders. We’re still figuring out what to do with him, and discussing whether his request is reasonable.”

“Can you keep me in the loop if anything changes with him?”

Looking to her sister, Luna allowed Celestia to answer instead. “I think we can do that. Oh, and before I forget, Obsidian, Queen Chrysalis is currently tending to Khamari's energy needs. My sister and I need to speak with her afterwards, but she should come by to visit in about two hours. If that’s it, I think all that’s left is to wish you a speedy recovery.”

As the sisters made for the exit, another knock sounded. Opening the door, Luna greeted the Elements of Harmony and turned to Obsidian. “Seems you’re quite popular today. We’ll leave you to it.”

The six newcomers parted for the departing Princesses, before filing in, with Rainbow Dash hovering above the others, and a bouncing Pinkie bringing up the rear.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” Glare remarked at the six at the foot of Obsidian’s bed.

“Believe me, some of us were just as surprised,” Rarity replied. “Fluttershy was quite insistent that we marched down here to apologise as soon as you woke.”

“What for?” Obsidian wondered.

“Well, for one, we didn’t exactly give you the warmest of welcomes,” Applejack started. “We treated you with suspicion.”

“And hostility,” Rainbow Dash added.

“The worst part is, we set the example for the Navy to follow, from our very first interaction,” Twilight finished. “In that sense, we failed you.”

“Umm …”

“Sorry, Fluttershy, I didn’t mean to include you.”

“Hey, I didn’t do anything either!” Pinkie spoke up, stomping a hoof. “I wanted to put together a celebration for the Navy’s first changeling, but nooooo, the big pony is a bug meanie! No, wait, bug pony, big meanie. That’s the one.”

Twilight nodded. “That’s fair. Some of us were more at fault than others. For the longest time, I thought my attitude toward you was rational and justified, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been monitoring you to an unhealthy extent.”

“Spying,” Rainbow Dash stated bluntly. “She means spying.”

“Yes, I suppose I should call it what it is. Thing is, the more I spied, the more I started to question myself. Chief, I won’t even try to understand your experiences around the Canterlot invasion, but I should have trusted a member of our Navy. For that, you have my sincerest apologies. If you ever need anything, from any of us, just say the word. If you want another role in the Navy, I can arrange it. I think you’ve more than earned your equivalent changeling hive rank with us.”

“I haven’t decided how to proceed from here, but I’ll keep that in mind. Will need to discuss with my Queen whether I’ll stay in the Navy, or return home.” Looking over at Glare, Obsidian added, “Or remain in Canterlot.”

“Whatever you choose, you have our full support,” Fluttershy affirmed.

Twilight gave an agreeable hum. “Especially now that you're legally a pony, your opportunities have opened up.”

“Legally a pony …” Obsidian mused. “Yeah, let's not use that particular description.”

“Alright then. Well, that’s all we wanted to say. We’d better get back to Aurora, before they realise we’re missing.”

As the six started exiting, an idea struck Obsidian. “Rainbow. Before you leave, I have a request.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

Obsidian glanced at the others, before motioning the pegasus to come closer. Leaning forward, he whispered into Dash’s ear. The pegasus eventually pulled away, raising an eyebrow at the changeling. “Uhh, no guarantees, but I can try. I’ll ask her tomorrow.”

After the group left, Obsidian faced Glare. “Guess I’m stuck here for a while. What are you going to do for the rest of the day?”

“What I’m doing for the rest of your stay is keeping you company,” the unicorn insisted.

“No, don’t do that. You’ll be bored out of your mind within hours. Go home. Spend some time with your family.”

“Like it or not, you’ve been slowly turning into family for a while now. How about I stay until I get bored, then go home? Good compromise?”

Obsidian gave a smile and nod. “Good compromise. I might lie back and have a nap, until the Doctor arrives.”

Obsidian woke to the familiar sight of Glare’s bedroom ceiling. Though still dark, he found the other occupant of the bed missing, and a distinct lack of warmth suggesting he had been alone for some time. A quick check of the nearby clock indicated it was just past six in the morning, though the careless turn to his left side shot pain through his first injury. The sudden jolt was enough to fully waken the changeling, and after a more careful stretch, he decided to emerge from the covers and seek out the unicorn.

With four hooves firmly on the floor, he gingerly touched the area around his wound, wincing at the contact. It had been less than two weeks since waking in the hospital, and a day since he was discharged, though the healing process would require additional rest and self-care.

Exiting the bedroom, a dim, flickering light caught his attention downstairs, and the faint crackling and popping of firewood could be heard from the living room. Descending the staircase, he rounded the corner to find Glare under a fluffy grey blanket on the sofa to the left of the fireplace. Watching the flames dance about, she warmed her hooves with a half-filled mug of hot chocolate between them.

Taking a sip, the unicorn caught sight of Obsidian standing near by and faced him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” replied Obsidian. “Everything alright?”

“Can’t sleep. Didn't want to wake you with my tossing and turning” Yawning, Glare lifted the blanket up and beckoned the changeling over, allowing him to squeeze between the her and the sofa, before covering themselves up again. Levitating her mug, she offered it to Obsidian. “It’s snowing outside. Seemed appropriate.”

Accepting the drink, Obsidian held it in one hoof, while strategically placing a couple of pillows to keep pressure off his bandaged side. Attempting to drape a wing over Glare, Obsidian fell short, forgetting for a moment that most of that wing no longer existed.

Glare noticed the attempt as well. “We can move to the opposite sofa if it makes you feel better.”

“Something to keep in mind for another time,” Obsidian declined. “By the way, Celestia sent me a letter yesterday about that prosthetic.”

“When are you getting it?”

“I might not. I’m considering turning down her offer. Unless it gives me the ability to fly again, it’s useless. Can’t hover, glide, or even feel anything with it. I don’t know, perhaps I was expecting something a little more advanced than some slow responding actuators and set myself up for disappointment.”

“Do you have the option to get one later if you change your mind?” asked Glare, feeling Obsidian nod behind her. “Then I see no issue. I’d say I understand your choice, but I’d be lying, given I’ve neither had wings, nor lost them. I’m relieved you’ve taken the loss of your wing well, at least. Heard that pegasi usually don’t. You … You are alright, aren’t you?

Obsidian did not answer immediately. Looking into the fire, he thought about the question as he took more sips from Glare’s hot chocolate. Passing the mug back, he answered, “There was a time when I wouldn’t have been. Such an injury would have meant I no longer served a purpose.”

Concerned by the potential implication, Glare repositioned herself slightly to face the changeling. “Meaning what? What would your hive have done to you?”

“Nothing like what you’re thinking,” Obsidian reassured. “There are always other tasks I could do, but let’s face it. I was a soldier. More than that, I was the Queen’s personal guard. Now, with me on medical leave, and questioning my future, I’m not sure what to do with myself.”

Glare hummed. The topic was one she definitely understood. Lying back down, she sighed. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, I’m not sure what I’m going to do, either. As glad as I am to have filed for discharge, of course.”

“Fortunately for you, I might be able to help with that.”

“How so?”

“Well, you like history, archaeology, and all things ancient, right?”

“… right?”

“For now, let’s just say I have a surprise for you. I’m hoping it’s something you’ll like. Let’s just say it will help with having a home of our own.”

Glare tried to piece together any potential clues from Obsidian’s words. “I take it you’re not going to tell me what it is?”

“Wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I did,” Obsidian replied, leaving the matter at that. Pushing as close as he could to Glare, he closed his eyes. The sound of Glare’s mug floating to the coffee table met his hears, and the unicorn followed suit for another attempt at sleep.

Their rest was short lived, both jolting awake to the sound of the doorbell ringing. Glare’s head came up first. Looking around, she found daylight filtering in through the windows, and the fireplace dark. Though judging by the lack of any other activity, her father and sister were likely still in bed.

“It’s the weekend,” Glare stated, getting to her hooves. “Who’d be visiting this early?

Obsidian did not answer, merely grunting as he got off the sofa as well. Following Glare to the door, he found Flare descending the stairs and asking the same question.

Looking through the peephole, Glare froze, spying a khaki-furred pegasus mare dressed in an olive vest, with a pith helmet that sat atop an unkempt greyscale mane. Stepping away from the door, Glare looked at Obsidian in shock. “You didn’t!”

Knowing who was on the other side of the door, Obsidian responded a simple, “Surprise,” before opening the door for her.

Their guest made eye contact with the changeling first. “You must be Obsidian.” Turning to Glare, she added, “And I take it you are the ‘totally awesome field assistant’ Rainbow Dash recommended?” Extending her hoof, she introduced herself. “Daring Do. Nice to meet you.”

Author's Note

Aaaaand that's a wrap. Really sorry for those of you who read to the second last chapter and had to wait so long. As I mentioned before, life just kept getting in the way of things. You'd think lockdows would give me more free time, but nope. But we got there in the end. I couldn't rest easy until I slapped that Completed tag on this thing!

12: Captain's Log: Balcora Aftermath

CREW AUDIO LOG
QUASAR, CMDR
AMAROK, STL. DESTROYER
9632.26147928151 GSY

Personal log, Commander Quasar.

Why the hay do I need to state the obvious that it’s a log in the first place?

Ahem, well, the Balcora mission went according to plan. We managed to locate the abandoned Pride of Hiigara quickly enough, but due to a good seven years of drifting, it took us considerably longer to locate the large slab that would normally cover the vessel’s capital ship production facility.

While Aurora’s recon squadrons sought the elusive part, their engineers boarded the vessel to perform a quick inspection. Despite some battle damage, structural integrity appeared to be acceptable for hyperspace, even if the ship itself was inoperable. As expected, the Hiigarans had wiped and disabled the computer systems before abandoning it.

As an aside, the engineers claimed the Pride of Hiigara was surprisingly spacious and luxurious. If I recall, one stated it was a terrible shame this excess space had gone to waste. Funny. Seems like quite the opposite at first glance. How do they still have space, with their hangar and production facilities taking up so much of it? I suspect some exceedingly dense armour might play a role in providing a larger interior, though I can’t think of anything denser than the standard armour we all use. An engineer mentioned radioactive decay across the entire exterior of the ship, though no signs of internal radiation. Perhaps some atomically unstable armour with manageable half-lives?

Whatever the case, as soon as Aurora’s engineers reattached the production facility’s cover, we set a course straight for Hiigara, with the mothership in tow. I could imagine the surprised looks on their faces when they discovered two mothership-class vessels and a small escort somehow penetrated their hyperspace inhibitor network and appeared in high orbit. I love these hyperspace cores.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen gratitude on this scale in my life. As soon as we exited hyperspace, and the ships nearby got a visual on what we had for them, comms chatter went wild! Their mothership must have meant a great deal to them. Fleet Command Elohim Nabaal kept insisting on various forms of repayment but relented after we continually refused. After all, it was they who gave us the ability to explore the galaxy. I’d say we’re even now. If anything, it was the least we could do after he himself suggested the six hyperspace cores should remain together with us after the Harmony campaign. With little else to say however, we bid farewell and returned home.

I wish I could say this meant some time off for myself and my crew, but it appears trouble has flared up somewhere. Again. Command has received reports of Raiders terrorising some old trade route called the Koshiir-Ra Crossing. The Taiidan Republic have eyes on the scene, but are unwilling to make a move on the Raiders, stating the attacks appear overly conspicuous and unusually restrained, leading to the suspicion this may be a trap. I don’t know how reliable or trustworthy Taiidan information is, considering their history with the Hiigarans and our ties to them, but either way, an intervention is in order.

Amarok will hyperspace in first, near the enemy fleet. We will remain cloaked, carry out our own observations, and act accordingly. The Taiidan ships hiding in the area have offered to support us if need be, but again, I have my doubts about their reliability and as such, I will move forward under the assumption that we do not have immediate support. The Third Solar Fleet will be standing by, however. They’re on patrol in a nearby sector and shall remain on call, if necessary.

In other news, the two Infiltrators have returned. Apparently Aurora’s research division had a field day with those two. Unfortunately, I couldn’t leave either there, as I will need them for this mission. Can’t say I missed the changeling though. Everything has been more or less drama-free in his absence. I mean, admittedly, he attracts trouble, rather than being the source of it, but still. Here’s hoping for smooth sailing the rest of the way.

Oh, speaking of the research division, word amongst the researchers is that they’re testing some new long-range pulsar cannons for frigs and platforms. I obviously don’t have the full details, but I assume it’s either going to be a scaled-up version of current pulsar cannons, or some sort of trade-off with power output. Should be interesting to see how fleets will deploy these if they do enter service. I wish we had such a turret aboard Amarok. Can’t exactly defend ourselves when we’re out of torpedoes, even if it would give away our location. Though there are rumours we may have an upgrade or two in six to twelve months, after some other classified research project gets completed.

One thing I’m rather concerned about is a particular event from a couple of hours ago. I recall something on the comms network about a large Raider fleet hitting a civilian resourcing operation. Last I heard, two of our fleets were dispatched to deal with the threat, but no news since. Could be nothing though. Perhaps they are running silent, or something there caused the mission to become classified higher than what I’m cleared for. The latter seems likely. Seems odd such a large group of Raiders would attack a simple resourcing operation. Or is it? Eh, I can never tell with Raiders anymore. Whatever it may be, I’m sure Command is taking care of it.

I guess it could be worse. Apparently the Hiigarans are getting hit the most for some reason. It’s an odd contrast, considering the Raiders all but avoided them while Harmony dealt with the end of the galaxy. Well, apart from that one battle. They sure did a complete one-eighty on that. Still, would it be too much to ask to go just a couple of weeks without trouble?

Apparently not.

LOG TERMINATED