Mass Core

Chapters

Chapter 2: The Royal Navy
Chapter 3: Darkness, then a Glimmer
Chapter 4: Wreckage
Chapter 5: Omega
Chapter 7: Murderer
Chapter 8: The Krogan and the Human
Chapter 9: Equipment
Chapter 10: The Biotic
Chapter 11: Space Battle
Chapter12: More Geth
Chapter 13: The Council
Chapter 14: Fleet Commander
Chapter 15: Questions
Chapter 16: Just Property
Chapter 17: Answers
Chapter 18: Victory
Chapter 19: On the Citadel
Chapter 20: Cerberus Wins
Chapter 21: The Return
Chapter 23: Preparations, Part II
Chapter 24: War
Chapter 1: Salvage
Chapter 6: Space Ponies
Chapter 22: Preparations, Part I

Chapter 2: The Royal Navy

Space shifted and distorted as the Royal Equestrian Navy Ship “Rainbow-Dash” emerged from faster than light travel. Onboard, Scootaloo held her chair tightly as the metal shifted and shuddered from the strain of dropping out of hyperspace. The ship shook violently, and then finally settled. Scootaloo sat in silence for a moment, waiting for the sound of some kind of explosion or the hissing of gas loss. When none came, she breathed a small sigh of relief.

“Now entering sub-light cruising speed, Captain,” said the helmsmare in her thick Bittish accent, swiveling in her chair to address Scootaloo directly.

“Thanks, Roseluck,” said Scootaloo. She looked out the window on the edge of what might very well have been the smallest amphitheater cockpit she had ever been in- -designed for a maximum of three ponies, or as high as five if they did not mind rubbing shoulders- -and summoned the starchart, which appeared as a blue projection at the very base of the amphitheater.

“I think we can let her out now,” said Scootaloo.

“Captain?”

“The auxiliary system is fully charged…well, as charged as it’s going to get.” Scootaloo shifted the projection, narrowing it to the unfamiliar star system that they currently found themselves in. “Drop us in far orbit around that star,” she said, “and prepare for long-range scanning.”

“I can put us into orbit,” said Roseluck, hesitantly. “But we can’t scan without the Core in…well…the core.”

“She got us all the way out here,” said Scootaloo, trying to sound firm. “She needs a break.”

“Of course, Captain.”

As Roseluck tapped on her control system, a distant ring began to rise from the depths of the ship as the magical coils began to discharge. The ship lurched forward slightly on impulse power, and the space outside seemed to move until a distant red-giant came into view. Roseluck immediately dampened the radiation shield on the front viewport, causing the amphitheater to be filled with a dim red-amber light.

Scootaloo paused, and looked out at the star and at the slowly turning starchart. She shivered slightly when it occurred to her just how far they had come from Equestria, how they were now floating in the dark skies of an entirely separate and unknown galaxy. It was a feeling of profound loneliness, and of profound smallness- -but a feeling of overwhelming wonder. Scootaloo knew that some mares lived for this feeling- -and she knew that she was not one of them.

“You’ve got things handled up here, Rose?”

“Sure,” said Roseluck. She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “If I crash into the star, the cider’ll be on me. When you’re actually old enough, of course.”

Scootaloo laughed. “I should jettison you for insubordination,” she joked.

“Only if you think Muffins can fly the Dash better than I can.”

Scootaloo shuddered at the thought. “Nope. An entire BUCKET of nope. Maybe even two.” She slid off her captain’s chair- -which was set as low is it could go but still designed for a much larger pony- -and felt the inconsistent hum of the magical gravity against her hooves. “Trust me, Rose, you’re the best helmsmare we’ve got.”

“I’m the only helmsmare you’ve got.”

“Exactly. You have the bridge.”

“Where are you going, Captain?”

“I have to go talk to the Professor.”

“You still haven’t told her?”

“Yes, clearly. I am just going all the way down there to tell her a second time.”

“Oi, no need to get snippy. I’d ask if you were having that time of the month, but at your age, I already know the answer to that. But you’re the Captain here. I trust your judgement. Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.”

“Thank’s Rose. Now keep your eyes on the space! Rainbow Dash would kill me if I got burnt up in a star!”

“Yes, Captain.”

Roseluck went back to what she was doing, and Scootaloo left the bridge into the belly of her ship. The internal design was dated and unpleasant, with heavy emphasis on designing creative ways to bend the hallways in “efficient” ways that instead left a number of sharp angles, small, weirdly-shaped closets, and bulkhead panels too small to get much work done without the ship’s engineer swearing non-stop for several hours.

In addition, much of the design had been retrofitted with new equipment over the years, leaving exposed pipes and conduits moving through the corners of the hallways. Some even dripped various fluids, the remedy for which was often to put buckets beneath the damage until Bengie got a chance to fix them. The buckets, of course, did precious little save to repeatedly trip Muffins whenever she tried to walk through the corridors. Not just once or twice, either. Every time. Sometimes multiple times on the same bucket.

“Captain,” called a voice from one of the hallways. Scootaloo turned to see a golden bodied earth pony approaching her. Her uniform was distinctly different from Scootaloo’s, indicating that she was not actually a member of the Royal Navy but instead an independent contractor from the Agricultural Ministry.

“Carrot,” sighed Scootaloo. “What is it now?”

“The lights in bay four are beginning to fluctuate again.” Carrot Top produced a clipboard and flipped over one of the pages. “Production in the recirculate is down almost ten percent.”

“We can’t exactly stop for repairs this far out,” said Scootaloo. She sighed, her headache for the day already starting. “I guess we can redistribute more power from the Core to the hydroponics system. But of course you have a better idea, don’t you?”

“Of course,” said Carrot, smiling. She reached into one of her supply bags and produced a highly gnarled, reddish root vegetable that reeked heavily of moldering cheese.

“Oh Celestia what is that?” cried Scootaloo, jumping back and tripping over a bucket.

“I have no idea!” exclaimed Carrot, approaching Scootaloo with the abominable root, apparently oblivious to its smell. “I found it growing on that one planet with the green sky. You know, the one where the clouds kept catching on fire?”

“You mean the one where Muffins cracked her helmet and swelled up so bad we had to spend half our grease supply just to get her out?”

“Yeah!” Carrot smelled the vegetable as though it were a fine cigar and forced a smile as her eyes watered. “Ex…gah….quisite! I’m pretty sure it’s a carrot. Weirdly, though, you can’t eat the root. I tried that. Woke up four hours later spooning Roseluck and talking to Bovis Presley. But I’m pretty sure the leaves are good. They even turn a nice mucoid texture after you pick them, and this stuff grows like crazy under our lights.”

“Have I eaten any of that?” said Scootaloo, suppressing her urge to vomit.

“I think you would know. It has a delightful taste.”

“Like what kind of taste?”

Carrot paused, considering. “Kind of like what you would get if you wore dirty socks in a bathtub of vodka and really old gravy for, like, two days and then scraped what collected in your hoof out with a badly washed spoon.”

“Gross,” said Scootaloo, turning slightly green. “I hate marmite.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad.”

“Yeah,” said Scootaloo, righting the bucket she had fallen over and holding her breath. “I need to…um…go. Like, right now. Important captain stuff.”

“Sure, sure. I’ll start preparations for converting the bay,” said Carrot, smiling and waving as Scootaloo raced away from the fetid smell of the space carrot. “Have a captain-tastic day, Captain!”

Then, once Scootaloo was out of sight, Carrot looked around. Then, when she was absolutely sure nopony was watching, she took a large bite from the root of the space carrot. Her pupils immediately dilated immensely and she gasped at the beauty of the colors.

“Here we go again…” she squeaked before beginning to giggle and weep simultaneously and uncontrollably.

This vessel had originally been intended as a kind of freighter before the navy had reconfigured for deep-space exploration. The cargo space had been refitted into hangers and hydroponic bays, but much of it had been left relatively open. One such open space in the bottom of the ship had been converted to a laboratory for this particular mission.

Unlike most places on the ship, it had a door. Scootaloo put her hoof against the control, and the door hissed as it slid back into its opening. Warm, moist air escaped from inside and Scootaloo nearly fell over from the strong smell of animals inside.

“Hello?” choked Scootaloo. “Are you in there?”

In the dim light, numerous sets of reflective eyes suddenly turned toward Scootaloo. Panicked, the filly reached for the light controls. Upon activation, the room was flooded with a dim bluish light from the overhead system.

One set of the reflective eyes resolved into a pair of large blue orbs attached to a pale looking yellow Pegasus. In her mouth, she was holding a small brush and apparently had been gently stroking the fur of a small animal that looked roughly like a spherical ball of hair.

“Eep!” she cried, jumping back as though Scootaloo had frightened her.

“Why were the lights off?” asked Scootaloo, entering the room.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Fluttershy. “I just heard that we were going into emergency power, and I didn’t want to use more than my fair share.”

“We have enough power to keep the lights on,” said Scootaloo. Fluttershy knew that.

“Well, I’m just…not used to your procedures,” she said. Then, correcting herself. “Not- -not that I’m complaining! I think it’s a lovely thing to do, and I’m really grateful for your hospitality!”

“It’s not like we have a choice.”

“Oh, I know. But I’m still thankful anyway.”

“Professor, do you have time to talk?”

“Oh, Captain. You don’t need to call me that. I’m not actually a professor. I tried to profess once…but all those eyes, staring at me…” She shivered. “I just couldn’t bear to do it anymore. But yes, I can talk. I’m almost finished with little Timmy #17 here.” She pulled back some of the fur on the spherical fur-thing’s body and with her teeth dexterously attached a tiny bow-clip. “There! Aren’t you just the most adorable thing!”

The creature cooed, and Fluttershy picked it up and brought it over to a set of several glass tanks that were overflowing with similar recently brushed creatures.

“Did you really need to take so many of those?” asked Scootaloo.

“Oh, I only had one at first,” said Fluttershy, opening the lid and setting the creature gently down. “And I don’t ‘take’ any of my samples. Everypony here came voluntarily.”

“Really?” Scootaloo looked down at another glass enclosure. This one contained a tiny quadrupedal creature that looked almost pony-like. Upon seeing Scootaloo, its eyes widened and it stood, pressing its front hooves against the front of the terrarium.

“Pwease wet fwuffy out!” it said. “No wike gwass sowwy boxie!”

Fluttershy slammed her hoof into the front glass. “I SAID YOU CAME VOLUNTARILY, LUNA-DARNIT!”

The tiny creature squeaked and retreated to its hiding enclosure. Fluttershy giggled. “Sorry about that,” she said, partly to Scootaloo and partly to the alien fuzzball.

“Fluttershy…are you feeling okay?”

“Tired,” she sighed.

“You look anemic.”

Fluttershy shrugged and pointed to a large tank of green fluid and rapidly swimming worms. “Space leaches need food too.” She sighed, and then pulled up a pair of chairs from her research bench. She gestured for Scootaloo to sit on one. Scootaloo did, and Fluttershy took the other one. “So, what is the problem, Captain?”

“Well,” said Scootaloo. “As you know, this mission is a long-term ecological and mapping study of the Milk-Spiral galaxy.”

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry to be such a bother. I would have come myself, but…I don’t know how to fly a ship.”

“No, no. This is an important mission, definitely.” Scootaloo cleared her throat at the slight lie.

“It certainly is.” Fluttershy pointed to the various enclosures that sat in her large laboratory. “All these animals are going to be ambassadors to Equestria. Just think of the things they can teach us!”

“I know, I know. But…I think I’m going to have to change the mission.”

“Change it?”

Scootaloo nodded. “Last night, we received an automated distress signal.”

“A distress signal? Oh my! Is somepony in distress?”

“That’s usually what a ‘distress signal’ means.”

“But…” Fluttershy considered for a moment. “What is anypony doing out here? We’re farther out than anypony has ever gone, by far! Why would another ship be out here?”

“I don’t know,” said Scootaloo. “The signal was…incomplete. There was no identification information. Definitly pony, but…”

Fluttershy’s eyes widened, and she eyed her desk, which she appeared to be about to jump under. “You don’t think it could be…a Crystal?”

“The Crystal ships don’t use distress signals. They don’t need to. And their galaxy is light-centuries away from this Celestia-forsaken pit. But the signal is weak. It will take days, even weeks before it gets to the communication amplifier we set down at the galactic edge.”

“But they need help!” cried Fluttershy.

“I know. I want to postpone our survey and immediately switch to a search-and-rescue mission.”

“Yes, of course! Do it!” Fluttershy grabbed Scootaloo by her tiny filly shoulders and shook her. “What are you waiting for? Save the ponies!”

“Stop- -shaking- -the- -captain!”

“Oops,” said Fluttershy. “Sorry. But of course you can divert the mission.”

“Thank you,” said Scootaloo, climbing off the chair.

“Besides. It’s a two-year mission. We’ve got time.”
` “I know,” muttered Scootaloo as she left the animal bay.

Scootaloo considered checking on the engine room before heading back up to the bridge, but decided against it. Most likely, Muffins had gotten herself stuck in some part of the central power system again and Bengie was doing her best to free her. Bengie was an effective engineer for being a diamond dog, but she had anger issues, and Scootaloo already had a Fluttershy headache.

Lost in thought planning a search pattern, Scootaloo very nearly ran into a pony that stepped out into her path as she made her way to the bridge.

“Hey!” cried Scootaloo. She looked up to see a blue unicorn towering over her. “Oh, Trixie. What are you doing up here?”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie requires a sandwich!” said Trixie with excessive flair. She even fluffed her starry cape as though it were blowing in the wind. Trixie was property of the Royal Navy, but they had never bothered to make her an actual uniform. She spent most of her time walking around naked, but usually preferred to wear a hat and a cape to cover her extensive spinal implants and the ports in her head.

“I think Muffins left some stuff in the galley,” said Scootaloo.

Trixie stuck out her tongue. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is not partial to muffin sandwiches. They’re good, of course…but muffins for every meal?”

“It’s all she can make,” sighed Scootaloo.

“How is the Greatest and most Powerful Core in all of the Royal Navy supposed to keep this ship running on a diet of muffin sandwiches?”

“You’ve been doing pretty good so far.” Scootaloo leaned in closer. “Just don’t eat anything that Carrot Top gives you.”

“Ah,” said Trixie. “That explains why she was talking to the fire suppression system main tank.”

“Was it talking back?”

Trixie looked confused. “No?”

“Then we don’t have a REAL problem.”

Trixie looked confused, but then smiled slightly. “Because the only part of the ship that’s supposed to talk is me?”

Scootaloo’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean- -”

“No, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Captain.”

“Yeah,” said Scootaloo, still slightly embarrassed. She tapped Trixie on the shoulder. “You get yourself a snack, and then see if Rose needs any help. I need you back in the tank in an hour to start scanning.”

“Right,” said Trixie, swooshing her tail as she passed Scootaloo. “You have nothing to worry about! No Core is better at scanning than Trrrrixie!”

Trixie trotted off toward the kitchen. Scootaloo watched her go, trying to imagine an entirely different tail and mane on her blue body.

“You know it’s against regulations, right?”

“GAH!” cried Scootaloo, her tiny wings fluttering rapidly as she shot upward with enough force to impact the ceiling and bump several times before falling on her back and spinning around like a wounded housefly. She righted herself as quickly as possible, blushing heavily.

“Lyra!” she cried, turning toward a shadowy corner of one of the hallways where Lyra was standing on her hind legs with her forlegs crossed in what would normally be a horribly uncomfortable way for a pony to stand. “Why do you ALWAYS do that!”

“It’s not my fault that you don’t pay attention.” Lyra dropped onto her legs and stepped out into the light. Like Carrot Top, Lyra was an independent contractor, but whereas Carrot Top was from the Ministry of Agriculture, Scootaloo actually had no idea where the Navy had dug up Lyra. She did know that, for some reason, Lyra never took off her armor.

Lyra turned her one functional eye down the hallway. “You know,” she said, “there is a reason why we keep those things in reactor. The emergency release is only supposed to be used when your Core dies. Having it walk around like that…”

“She’s not a ‘thing’,” snapped Scootaloo. “She’s a member of my crew, just like you are. Without her, this ship would just be a hunk of metal. Do you have a problem with my decision?”

“No, I have a problem with YOU. A young, idealistic little filly like yourself should barely not be out of the academy, not flying her own ship. But then again, I don’t actually care.” She shrugged. “As long as I get paid.”

“Nice to know I have your loyalty.”

“It’s not mine you need to worry about. That reason, the one why we keep the Cores in the core? You have no idea how much you’re hurting her, forcing her to see the life she can never have. If anypony here stabs you in the back, it will be her.”

“I trust her more than I trust you.”

“And I don’t trust anypony. Not even you. Especially after what you just told Fluttershy.”

“What do you- -you were listening?!”

“I’m always listening.”

“I didn’t tell her anything that wasn’t true.”

“No, but you let her believe what wasn’t. I received that signal too. It was an automated beacon, and you know it.”

“So?”

“So? Ships don’t release automated signals if any of the crew is still alive. There were no survivors. You’re chasing a dead ship.”

Scootaloo looked around, and then pulled Lyra back into the shadows that she seemed to prefer lurking within.

“I don’t go for fillies,” said Lyra emotionlessly. “Try to kiss me and I WILL hit you.”

“Eew,” said Scootaloo, barely above a whisper. “Look, there’s more to this than just salvaging a broken ship.”

“Like what?”

“When we got the signal, I looked up the flight itineraries in this area. According to them, there’s nopony out here except us.”

“Comforting.”

“But that got me thinking, so I checked the classified orders manifest in the command matrix- -”

Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “How did you get access to classified files?”

Scootaloo looked around, hesitating. “I…may have used my sister’s access codes to get in.”

“You used the Fleet Commander’s personal codes to access classified documents? Either you’re as stupid as you look or as reckless as your ‘sister’. Do you have any idea what they would do to you if- -”

“Yes, yes I do.” Scootaloo felt ashamed at the thought, actually. The normal punishment would be court-martialing, and possible imprisonment on Tartarus. For her, though, it would likely be a demotion to first lieutenant. “But I found something important. There WAS a ship dispatched here.”

Lyra paused. “Why?” she asked slowly.

“I don’t know. A lot of stuff was behind Rainbow Dash’s rotating passwords, and she only uses ‘Wonderbolt12345’ so often. But a ship was sent out here.”

“A scout?”

Scootaloo shook her head. “There was no record of the ship itself. It doesn’t even have a name apart from the codename ‘EQX’. I don’t know what it’s carrying, or what it’s for, but that ship is incredibly important. And if we could find it, and bring it back…”

“Do you have any idea what you’re saying?” said Lyra. “Whatever’s on that ship, they clearly didn’t want it anywhere near Equestrian space. You should just boost the signal and call for backup. If it really is that important, we can get support teleported in by the end of the day.”

“Are you going to go over my head on this?”

Lyra sighed. “Come on…no. No I’m not. I’ve learned to pick my battles.” She gestured to the scar cutting through her one blind eye. “I leave this at your discretion.”

Scootaloo paused for a moment, not expecting Lyra’s ambivalent response. It was true that the correct thing to do was to call in the navy and let them recover the ship.

“No,” said Scootaloo, making her decision. “No. If we can get that ship ourselves and bring it back, we’ll be heroes. We can finish this stupid mission and get real work.”

“And you can be a real captain, instead of a nepotistic child, and your sister will finally love you the way you want to love her?”

Scootaloo blushed and stepped back. “N- -no!” she cried, trying to regain her composure. “I’m just trying to do my duty for Princesses and Empire!”

“Right,” said Lyra, sounding more bored than anything else. “But we’re going to have to be careful about this. I have a bad feeling.”

“Why?”

“Why? We’re chasing a ship whose entire crew died before they could get out a proper distress signal, one on an unknown mission with unknown cargo. Who knows what they were carrying, and how dangerous it could be?”

Chapter 3: Darkness, then a Glimmer

“…but Armchair said that he couldn’t identify the species as any known spacefaring race.”

A mind slowly became aware of her surroundings. The world was so dark, but felt so strange. She heard voices, distant ones, but not nearly as distant as the ones she had felt before that spoke words with no sound but perfect clarity. The question that occurred to this free-floating mind, however, was not the origin of the voices, but rather concerned the origin of her own thought, and just where it was coming from.

“Yeah,” said another voice. This one was deep and rough, while the other was high and smooth. “I heard. Which is why I cross-referenced the anatomy across a database of all known species.”

“Why?”

“Why? What kind of a question is that?”

“Because what would a known, non-spacefaring race be doing out here? Unless…you found something?”

“Of course I found something. Look.”

A pause. The listener found herself drifting again, returning to wherever she had come from. Time may have skipped, and she found herself wondering which one of those voices was hers.

“A horse?” said the lighter voice. The female voice, the listener realized. Female like her, but not her. It was not her voice. “What is a horse?”

“Didn’t you read any of the educational files I gave you?”

“Yes.” Another pause. “No.”

The gruff voice sighed. “They are a species of quadruped from Earth.”

“Earth? I thought the only sentient species from Earth were the humans.”

“They are. Horses are a herbivore, a pack animal. I hear they taste pretty good.”

“So this thing is just an animal?”

“No, no, that’s the interesting part. Look at these brain scans.”

“All I see is a freak-big spike jammed into the frontal lobe.”

Another sigh. “No. Look closer. This level of nervous development…you don’t see this in dumb animals.”

“So…it’s definitely not turian.”

Laughter. For some reason it made the listener afraid. She realized that something was wrong. The world was not supposed to feel like this. She was not meant to feel; everything around her was suddenly so loud and so intense. She wanted to hide, to go back to the blackness, to run- -but she could only feel herself being pulled away, coming to something new and terrifying.

“No, certainly not. But this brain…this creature is probably even capable of speech. I’d bet my left frontal nut on it!”

“Eew, dad!

That word pierced the listener’s mind like a spike through her forehead. Images slammed into her dormant copiousness: a smiling pony, standing over her. She was so small, and he was so big and strong. Beside him was a mare, beautiful and caring

The pony’s eyes burst open, and she screamed at the agony of the memory. She flailed her limbs around, not understanding why she was on a metal table or why there were bright lights over her, or so many machines surrounding her. The machines terrified her the most- -it felt like they were closing in on her, devouring her.

“Crap, she’s gonna pull her lines out!” cried the gruff voice. “Zerdok, help me hold her!”

The pony continued to scream and flail wildly, but suddenly felt a pair of immense claws close around her forlegs.

“Calm down!” ordered the deeper, male voice. “It’s going to be okay!”

The pony calmed down slightly, feeling the sincerity in those words- -until she turned her head. When she did, she came face-to-face with an immense, wide head with a pair of wide-set eyes and a preposterously wide mouth filled with pointy teeth.

Nolonger feeling safe, the pony pulled her way out of its grip and scooted backward across the cold metal table- -directly into a pair of waiting arms.

“No, please!” she cried. “Don’t hurt me!”

“HA!” bellowed the large creature, standing and towering over the pony, pointing with one long clawed finger. “Speech! I told you, Zerdok, I told you!”

“DAD!” cried the female voice, which the pony realized was the one holding her. “Quiet! You’re scaring her!”

“Oh. Sorry.”

The pony, now shaking, turned around and looked up at the creature holding her. It- -or rather she- -was not as horrible as the other one, but still frightful in appearance. She was far narrower and thinner, and instead of thick bony plates her skin was soft and blue, with a complex set of symmetrical dark marks on her face. Instead of a mane, she had some kind of swept-back tentacles.

“Shh,” she said, holding the pony only loosely. “It’s going to be okay.”

The pony did not know why being in the arms of this monster made her feel better, but it did. Even the other one was not all that scary. His appearance was more startling than anything, but he had mostly backed into the corner of the room.

Eventually, the pony calmed down. She was still shaking from the stress and extremely tired and confused, but the panic of achieving consciousness was fading quickly.

“There you go, horse,” said the blue girl. “Feeling better?”

“Pony.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m a pony. It’s…it’s what I am.”

“Okay, pony. Do you have a name?”

“Name?”

“Yeah, a name. Mine is Zerdok. And his,” she pointed at the taller, armored creature across the room, “is Fenok. He’s my dad.”

The pony looked at the blue girl, and then at the tall monstrous thing. “You don’t look very similar.”

“She takes after her mother in that respect,” said Fenok, crossing his arms. “Not that she wouldn’t be just as beautiful as a fine krogan maiden, of course.”

“Dad!” hissed Zerdok. She turned her attention back toward the pony. “So…what are you called?”

The pony paused for a moment, searching her memory. “My name is…my name is Starlight Glimmer.”

“Wow that’s corny,” said Zerdok.

“She means that it’s a pretty name,” said Fenok.

“It’s…it’s just a name,” said Starlight, hopping down off the table. The two creatures towered above her, standing on two legs instead of four. Starlight was not sure if that was how she was supposed to stand too, but knew that she was too weak to manage it. “I don’t…” her eyes suddenly widened. “I don’t know how I got it…who…who am I?”

The two looked at each other, and then down at Starlight.

“We don’t know,” said Fenok. “We found you.”

“Found me? Found me…where? Did somepony lose me?”

“‘Somepony’?” said Zedok, nearly snorting with laughter. Fenok glared at her disapprovingly.

“We’re a salvage team,” he said. “We…found you in some kind of suspended animation on a derelict ship. The rest of the crew…”

“They died,” said Zedok.

“Ship?” said Starlight, her head swimming with memories that now all felt so incomplete and distant. “I…why was I on a ship? I…I can’t remember…” She put her hoof to her head and gasped in fright, pulling away suddenly and then pressing it back again, feeling the bits of metal that were installed there and following them back to her spine. “What- -what did you do to me?!”

“Calm down! You were like that when we found you!”

“But- -but- -”

Fenok took a knee near Starlight. She recoiled at first, because even kneeling he was still far taller than her. He stretched out a hand. “Come on, it’s not that bad.”

“I- -I don’t understand!”

“Neither do we. You’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen some shi…I mean some real stuff. But you…”

“You’ve never seen…a pony before?”

“It’s not just that.” Fenok stood and clicked one of his claws against a display that was currently showing a cross-section of Starlight’s brain. The image shifted forward and expanded, forming a hologram that rapidly spread out into the rough shape of a pony skeleton.

“What is that?” gasped Zedok in awe.

“Ah, so you have been studying.” Fenok turned to Starlight and pointed at the holographic bones. “You’re body contains a prodigious amount of element zero. I mean, on a scale that should be far beyond biological toxicity. Yet somehow, you’re body has not just adapted to it, but EVOLVED to it.” He changed the image. “Your bone marrow contains cells specifically designed to harness the elemental effect and to funnel it through a kind of…energy network. That thing growing out of your head?” Starlight reached up, and realized that there was in fact a spiral horn protruding from her forehead. “It’s a kind of organic amplifier.”

“You mean she’s a biotic?” said Zedok.

Fenok shook his head. “Not just a biotic. This isn’t something you can get from eezio poisoning, even in the womb…your kind must have evolved like this somehow.” He turned his attention toward what Starlight had assumed was an empty part of the room where the lights were far dimmer. “She might even be more powerful than you.”

“Doubtful,” said a third voice. This one was lower than that of the blue girl, but Starlight still felt that its owner must be female.

A pair of heavy boots struck the ground as the voice’s owner jumped off a high bunk. She crossed the shadows, approaching the others, and for some reason Starlight felt herself backing away. Fenok looked scary, but whatever this was FELT terrifying.

When the figure came into the light, Starlight saw that she was roughly the same size and shape as the blue girl. Her skin, though, was not blue; rather, her exposed torso consisted of numerous colors that seemed to be overplayed on a pale and nearly white skin tone. Her head lacked tentacles, or even any kind of a mane, and her eyes were covered with a pair of black goggles.

“If you had woken me up like that,” she said with perfect steadiness, turning slowly to Fenok, “I would have gutted you both. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve killed a krogan…or a child.”

Fenok growled, and the figure crouched in front of Starlight.

“It’s a pony,” said Zedok, perhaps too eagerly. “Dad says that it’s from you’re home planet.”

“I did not say that,” said Fenok.

“Does it look familiar, Jack?”

Jack turned to Zedok. “I wouldn’t know. The last time- -and the only time- -I was ever on Earth was during the War.” She turned back to Starlight, apparently glaring through her opaque-looking goggles. “But I do know that horses aren’t supposed to talk.”

“And yet I am talking,” said Starlight. “Which means one of us has no idea what she is talking about.”

The room fell silent for a moment, and Starlight felt and urge to step even farther back, to get away from this black-goggled biped that was now frowning down at her. Instead, though, she held her ground.

Eventually, Jack stood up from her crouched position. She turned around and started toward the door. “Horse,” she said, not turning around. “Come with me.”

Starlight looked up at the large male creature, and he nodded. Then, slowly, the pony stepped forward, and for the first time she realized that she was shaking.

“Hey,” said Zedok, stepping out from where she was standing and addressing Jack directly. “Are we still on for biotics training later?”

Her father’s eyes widened and he turned his head sharply toward her. “Biotics training?” He turned back to Jack. “Why wasn’t I told about this?”

Jack looked back slowly, first at Fenok and then at Zedok. “Training? No…I don’t do that kind of thing anymore.”

She turned away and faced the door. She raised on heavily marked hand, and her fingers flashed blue, as did the controls for the door. With a hiss, the heavy metal of the door slid open and jack stepped through. Starlight looked back, but then hesitantly followed.

“Hey,” she heard Zedok say, “when can I stop wearing a shirt like her?”

“When you get Sjdath to put one on,” muttered Fenok.

The door slammed closed, nearly removing the edge of Starlight’s tail and causing her to cry out in surprise. She rapidly cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. Somehow, she knew that if she showed weakness to this Jack, her life would be in danger.

Jack hardly noticed, though. She just led Starlight forward into the darkness.

Starlight followed her, but felt uneasy. She could not remember what her surroundings were supposed to be- -although she distantly remembered walls, painted pale purple, and a cool breeze that drifted through the open windows- -but she knew that this place was strange. Not only was it strange, but it was wrong.

The rooms did not seem to be designed for ponies, or really for whatever Jack was either. There were no real hallways, but rather large, empty sinuses lined with conduits and machinery that almost seemed alive. In these vast empty spaces, rickety and rusted catwalks had been set up to move between openings. Each was lit by a string of lights on a cord strung over it, creating spots of bright yellow-white light.

The metal clanked beneath Jack’s heavy boots and underneath Starlight’s hooves, echoing through immense rooms that were otherwise filled only with a powerful humming that made Starlight’s horn hurt.

There was something else, though. Something moving alongside them, but not on the catwalk. Instead, it seemed to be moving through the ventilation system that lined some parts of the walls. At one point, Starlight paused and stared into a vent- -only to see a pair of reflective eyes staring back at her.

Starlight cried out and nearly fell of the catwalk. Jack, who had been climbing a narrow spiral staircase, paused.

“Something wrong, horse?”

“I- -I saw something in the vents! Is- -is there something living in there?”

Jack looked down at Starlight, then at the vent, which was no empty. She then turned slowly back to Starlight. “Yes,” she said, simply. Then she started walking again. Starlight looked back at the vent, and then hurried closer to Jack.

The silence between the two persisted even as the hallways began to level into long corridors. Then, finally, Jack spoke.

“Do you know how you got here?” she asked.

Starlight paused, and then shook her head. “No. I don’t…I don’t remember.”

“We found you,” said Jack. “You were inside a derelict ship. Those things, on your spine? In your head? They were hooked up to it. Real tight.”

Starlight shivered, and looked over her shoulder at the pieces of metal that ran down her spine to the base of her tail, and the several ports that were visible in her body. There were more, she knew- -ones in her head, ones she could not see but could somehow feel.

“Any idea how you got in there?”

Starlight shook her head again. “I told you. I don’t…I don’t remember anything.”

Jack paused for a long moment, and stopped walking. “Then what was the last thing you DO remember?”

Starlight thought back, and instantly knew that she could not tell Jack. The memories were not clear, but they were painful. There was screaming, struggling against a force stronger than her- -and so much pain, so much fear. A blur of color, and a pair of weeping faces. That was the last real memory she had- -but there were other things too. Things that were not quite memories. They were clear, and almost artificial, like pieces of a dream- -except that Starlight had never dreamt before. She had never slept. She had never eaten, or walked, or spoken to a tattooed biped. She had done nothing and been nothing until a few minutes ago.

“Crew failure to respond, life support failure,” she stated, almost instinctively. “No life signs, protocol: defined, Core to stasis. Initiate automated distress beacon for recovery.”

“Let me guess. You have no idea what that means, do you?”

“I know…I know something bad happened,” said Starlight, rubbing her forehead. “I…I just don’t know what.”

“You’re ship got a whole punched in it is what happened. Everybody on board got turned into a goddamn space mummy. Except you.”

“They’re…they’re dead?”

“I thought you didn’t remember them.”

“I don’t. Bu the crew…the crew is important.” That assertion made her head ache. “I don’t…I don’t understand. Where am I? What- -what even are you?”

Jack did not answer. She just kept walking. Eventually, the floor flattened to the point where a catwalk was no longer needed. At this point, Jack stopped and turned toward one of the walls.

Starlight was confused at first, but then turned to the wall and realized that it was actually transparent- -and that she was looking through a massive array of windows into the starry depths of space.

“We’re…we’re in space,” she said in awe, stepping forward. Somehow, she had always known- -but at the same time, never been sure. Now it was here before her, spread out in its infinite vastness. She saw the countless thousands of stars- -and realized that she somehow knew their names.

“It’s so beautiful,” she said, looking out at the vastness. Starlight looked up at Jack. “Can you…can you even see it with those goggles on?”

“I can,” she said. “And I can see it a lot better than you can.”

“Can I ask…what are the goggles for?”

Jack sighed. She turned toward Starlight and lifted the goggles. Starlight gasped. Beneath, there were not proper eyes; instead, Jack possessed a pair of silvered, nearly luminescent orbs.

“How do you get eyes like that?”

Jack lowered the goggles. “Funny,” she said. “I once asked the same question. And the answer’s still the same. You’ve got to kill a lot of people.”

“You…you kill?”

“It’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at. It is the only thing I will ever be good for.” She paused. “And…to be honest, at this point, it’s the only thing that makes me happy anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for something you didn’t do. Don’t even apologize at all. It’s a sign of weakness, horse.”

“I have a name, you know.”

“Lucky you.”

The pair turned back to the window. Starlight leaned over, looking past Jack’s rear and down the hallway- -and seeing that it was lined completely with immense windows.

“There’s a lot of windows here, aren’t there?” she said, trying to break the awkward silence.

“Yes, there are,” said an oddly cheerful voice that definitely was not Jack’s.

“What- -who said that?” said Starlight, jumping back and looking around. She had only ever heard three voices in her life that she could remember, and they had all come from sources. This one, meanwhile, seemed to come out of nowhere.

“We did,” said the voice.

“Where- -where are you?”

“Here. We are here.”

Jack sighed. “I have not had enough morphine yet today to deal with this…”

“I- -I can’t see you,” said Starlight, looking around. She gasped. “Are you invisible?”

“We hope not. That would be bad. How would we ever find ourselves?”

“Stop messing with her, Armchair.” Jack’s voice was as calm as ever, but showed just the slightest modicum of annoyance.

“Armchair?” said Starlight, understanding the definition of the word- -somehow- -but not what it had to do with anything in this context.

“We are Armchair,” said the voice. “You are standing inside us right now.”

“Wait a second,” said Starlight, raising one eyebrow. “Are you using the royal we, or are there actually more than one of you?”

“There are seven of us.”

“Seven?” said Jack, suddenly seeming slightly concerned. “You told me you had at least forty! Seven geth can barely walk!”

“Geth?” said Starlight.

“We are geth,” said Armchair. “Artificial, sentient programs. This vessel is our body. You are…we do not know the word. A combination of parasites and pets. We have dudes walking around inside of us, and we find it amusing.”

“So…this whole ship is…alive?”

“Nominally, yes.”

“So then, why the windows?”

“Because on two separate occasions, the human Commander Shepard successfully approached and attacked geth fleets by taking advantage of the fact that without windows we could not see him approach. Therefore, we have resolved that problem through a series of windows updates.”

“You did not just say that,” said Jack, putting her hand on her forehead.

“Wait…” said Starlight. “So…if your ships had windows, then you could have seen outside and seen this Shepard coming?”

“Correct. Our lack of windows was our undoing.”

“So…you don’t have eyes on the outside?”

Jack looked up. “Yeah…” she said. “I kind of always wondered about that.”

“Um…we…um…darn it. We suppose we could have just put a camera on the outer hull. But we do not care. We like windows. It is our body, we will make it look like whatever we please.”

“I get that,” said Jack.

She looked back out the window, and Armchair fell silent for a moment. Starlight felt strange knowing that although he was quiet, he was not gone- -he was inescapable, always watching, always seeing whatever she did.

“Look,” said Jack, pointing. “That’s your ship. Or was.”

Starlight pressed her face against the window, something that was difficult with a horn sticking out of her forehead. Far in the distance, she saw the remains of a large, swept-back craft floating freely in the darkness of space, lit by armchair’s lights.

“I was in that?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Armchair. “You were. From what we understand, at least.”

“Still no idea how you got in there?” asked Jack.

“No. I know that the Equestrians have ships, but- -”

“Equestrian?” said Jack, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes,” said Starlight. “I am from…Equestria. I don’t know what that means. But…that is where I’m from.”

“We are from Rannoch,” said Armchair. “Although, in this case, by ‘we’ we mean Armchair. The others are not. Only geth are from Rannoch.”

“And what about you, then?”

Jack did not respond. She instead started walking down the hallway. “Come on,” she said.

“Where are we going?”

“You’re not going to jettison our new pet-parasite, are you?”

“It isn’t up to me. We need to talk to Sdjath.”

The sinuses of the ship grew larger as Starlight was led lower into Armchair’s body. Many of them seemed to be hangers or have been converted to storage areas, a few complete with prefab rooms suspended at odd angles in their centers.

Of all these hangers and storage rooms, Starlight was led to one of the largest of them. Upon entry, she found an enormous, egg-shaped room mostly made of windows on its upper parts and lit by powerful lights that were imbedded into the walls themselves instead of strung on wires. This room was mostly filled with machinery in various stages of disarray, decay, and disassembly. On one wall, there was a rusted and pitted six-wheeled vehicle dangling from inadequate looking hooks; on the other, there was a large and torn banner with a complex symbol drawn in some kind of red-brown ink. The only sounds were the hum of the engines, the electrical sound of plasma cutting, and a strange distant music.

“SJDATH!” yelled Jack, loudly.

A plume of sparks that was coming from one corner of an extremely large piece of metal stopped. A face poked out from around the edge of the mass, and then a figure pulled her way out of top of the piece of scrap and jumped down.

Starlight had thought she had seen ugly when she had seen Fenok. She had been wrong. The creature that approached her and Jack was much, much worse. Her torso was covered in thick, plated rough brown skin. Her torso was exposed, but her long digitigrade legs were mostly covered by a long, thick skirt that split in the center. This creature’s head was covered in long fins or spines, and she glared down with a pair of harsh red eyes. Starlight was glad she could not see the creature’s whole face- -her mouth and nose, if she had them, was covered with a respirator mask attached to a tank on her belt- -because Starlight knew that if she had seen that face, she probably would have screamed.

The creature looked down at Starlight, and then up at Jack. “It is awake,” she said, her voice rasping harshly to the point where it was barely understandable. “Also, alive…and…excuse me. SIANIRIAS! For the last time, if you are going to listen to music, USE YOUR COMLINK!”

The music stopped. A creature drifted out from behind a large, cylindrical piece of scrap. Unlike the others, it was not a biped, but rather a kind of armored floating thing with six metal tentacles dangling beneath it, one wrapped around some kind of tool.

“This one prefers Captain Sjdath to use the name ‘Si’y’ when referring to this one. Also, in addition, this one would posit that Captain Sjdath has no appreciation for Tuchankan death metal because Captain Sjdath is an uncultured heathen.”

“An uncultured heathen that pay’s your salary! And what for? To shoot things! Not to assault my ears with unpleasant noise!”

“Since when do you have ears?” asked Jack.

“I don’t. But that’s not the point.” She looked back down at Starlight. “So. Is this…animal worth any money?”

“I am not an animal!” cried Starlight. “I am a pony!”

Sdjath jumped back sharply with a loud hiss. “It talks!”

“It talks?” said Si’y, looming out from his work and floating over to the group.

“You get back to work!”

“What…what are you?” asked Starlight, looking quickly between the ugly female creature and the floating tentacle thing.

“Captain Sjdath is a member of the vorcha race,” explained Si’y. “This one is but a humble hanar, by the name of Si’y.”

“Humble my vestigial vorcha tail,” hissed Sjdath. “And I already know what I am. I am more concerned about this…thing.” She turned to Starlight and dropped to all four limbs, coming near eye-level with the pony and adjusting a control valve on her mask. “I’ve been around for a long time. I’ve never seen your kind.”

“Your seven years old,” said Jack.

“And yet Captain Sjdath has still had more romantic partners than the mercenary Jack,” said Si’y. Sdjath stood and took a swipe at him with one of her claws, but he drifted quickly out of reach.

“I somehow doubt that,” said Jack. She crossed her arms. “But I didn’t come all the way down here to swap stories about…eew. How do vorcha even…”

“It’s complicated,” snapped Sjdath. She pointed at Jack. “And I don’t go for filthy hoomies, so don’t even bother.”

“I came here to see if you found anything in that ship.”

“Ah.” Sjdath turned around quickly, the halvs of her long skirt fluttering in the wind. Starlight was glad she was wearing something under it. She did not mind nudity, considering how she herself was fully naked, but she did not want to see any more of a vorcha than she had to. “That is the rub. We didn’t find anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean just that.” Sjdath gestured toward the large sections around her, which Starlight realized were portions of her ship. “I’ve been in salvage since I was a month old. I’ve seen every ship you can think of, and some you can’t. I’ve puled tech out of Reaper corpses, for hell’s sake! But this…I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Like what?” asked Starlight.

“It’s your ship, you should know.”

“I don’t.”

“Well, then, you’re incompetent.”

“Just explain,” sighed Jack.

“There’s nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Look.” Sjdath pulled open a fragment of the ship. “There’s nothing in it! No computers, gravity systems, shield generators- -nothing! It’s just a hunk of metal and stone and wood!”

“Wood?”

“WOOD! There’s no technology. Nothing. I mean, look at this.” She crossed the room rapidly, putting her hand on the thing that Si’y was continuing to inspect. “This, I’m pretty sure it’s a weapon.”

“A mass-cannon?”

“No, that’s the thing. It isn’t designed to fire projectiles. It doesn’t even have moving parts! It was connected heavily to the ship’s systems, but…I don’t know what the systems were actually DOING to make it work!” She started crossing the room rapidly, stepping over tools and stains in the narrow corridors that had been made between the scrap. As she did, Sjdath summoned a small hologram from a device on her wrist, checking it closely and running a claw over its surface. “I even sent some of this stuff down to the basement for Arachne to look at.”

“And?”

“And even he can’t tell how this ship was supposed to work…I think. I’m not entirely sure. He doesn’t exactly talk.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“But I do have a theory. Everything in the ship links back to one thing.”

“And what is that?”

“This.”

Sjdath stepped into the center of the pieces, revealing the desperate parts of a large transparent tube linked to hoses and wires. Starlight gasped and stared to shake when she saw it. She could not take her eyes away from the center, where wires and tubes were dangling into the still moist core of the center- -wires that were meant to be linked to her.

“No!” she said, stepping back. It looked so small inside, so tiny. Images flashed through her mind. Blurry images of darkness and of light when distorted faces stared back at her through pale yellow fluid. Of pain, and half-forgotten lonliness. “NO! I won’t go back! I WON’T GO BACK!”

She started to run, but the walls seemed to be pressing in around her. The equipment surrounding her, it was suddenly so familiar. It was broken and pulled apart, but she remembered it. It was her body, pulled apart and broken. Through the ages of her blank memory, she recalled the fear and screaming as she struggled to try to resist.

“No, no, NO!” she cried, closing her eyes. “Get out of my WAY!”

A strange sensation filled her body, rising from her limbs and surging into her torso, then forcing itself into her horn with profound intensity. The appendage burst with blue light, and the heavy pieces of the ship were engulfed in the same light and pushed easily across the floor.

“Stop her!” cried Sjdath.

“I’m on it,” said Jack, lifting her hands. They ignited with their own shade of blue light, and a sphere of light shot out toward Starlight. When it struck, Starlight felt herself suddenly grow lighter, and her hooves released from the deck.

“NO!”

The field shattered, and Starlight fell to the floor, gasping. She closed her eyes and covered her head with her forelegs. Then she started crying.

“What the hell was THAT?” cried Sjdath.

“She’s a biotic,” said Jack. Starlight heard footsteps behind her, and then jumped as a tattooed hand was placed on her shoulder. “Hey,” said Jack.

“Please don’t put me back,” whimpered Starlight. “It…it hurts in there. I don’t want to go back. I can’t…”

“Listen,” said Jack. “We’re not going to put you in there. You got that? I don’t make a lot of promises, but this is one of them. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. Okay?”

Starlight looked up. Jack was not smiling, but something in her expression had changed. Starlight smiled up at her.

“I would just ask that you please refrain from using biotics in the ship,” said Sjdath. “You almost crushed Si’y.”

“This one is okay, though,” said Si’y, floating out from behind a piece of machinery and waving.

“That, and if you were to break a window…I can survive in the vacuum of space, but I know for a fact that you can’t. Of course, we have bigger problems than that right now.”

“What do you mean ‘bigger problems’?” said Jack, standing.

Sjdath released a low growl. “Our fuel situation is…bad.”

“You didn’t take the fuel from the pony ship?”

“I already told you,” snapped Sjdath. “Their ship doesn’t have an engine, or a mass core, or ANYTHING. There was no fuel, and virtually no platinum or palladium. I can’t even burn it for resources.”

“How far to the next refueling station?”

“We are in the middle of unclaimed space. There aren’t any. I was chasing this ship under the assumption that there would be SOMETHING on it we could use to get back…but now…”

“Can you get me a starchart?”

“I don’t know how it’s going to help- -”

“Just do it.”

Sjdath growled, but gave in. She pressed the controls on the device on her wrist, and an orange hologram expanded rapidly around them.

“Wow,” said Starlight, staring in awe at the diagram of stars and planets that surrounded her.

“Damn,” said Jack. “This place is the boondocks.”

“I know. The nearest mass relay is all the way over here.” Sdjath pointed. “In batarian space. But we’ll never get that far. Not without more fuel.”

Jack considered the map for a moment, walking through it and examining the planets closely. “Do we have any probes left?”

“No. Because SOMEONE fired them all at Uranus.”

“Sorry,” said Armchair, his voice transmitted from the device on Sdjath’s wrist.

“This gas giant. Can we scoop the upper atmosphere?”

“Yes,” said Armchair. “It will take Arachne approximtly two point six months to reconfigure my systems to make that possible.”

“And life support will have failed for a while by then,” noted Sdjath.

“Then our only option,” said Jack, pointing at a small moon around a tiny holographic planet, “is to go here.”

Sdjath’s eyes widened to the point where her secondary pupils became visible. “NO,” she said, flatly.

“It’s the only place within three hundred lightyears that will have any fuel.”

“Do you know what that place IS?”

“Of course I do. I’ve been there. A lot.”

“Yes, and so have I. And that’s the problem!”

“We don’t really have any other option.”

“I could butcher you all and eat you.”

“Not going to happen.”

Sjdath closed her hologram and looked around nervously. Then she slammed her fist into a large piece of metal. “This is not going to go well. You know that, right?”

“It never does.”

“Fine, then. We do this your way.” She turned her face toward the ceiling. “Armchair, we’re done here. Set our course for Omega.”

Chapter 4: Wreckage

Scootaloo stared into the slowly revolving star chart projected in blue light at the bottom of the cockpit amphitheater. She would occasionally stop it and adjust the controls mounted on the sides of her captain’s chair, adding annotations and coordinates based on her research, calculating the path that the EQX had taken and plotting them on a map.

Below her, Roseluck deftly maneuvered the Rainbow Dash into position over the wreckage of the other ship, correcting for its slight drift in space. It had taken them nearly two days to find and reach it, and they were not about to lose it again- -especially with an away-team already on board, inspecting the damage.

Once she was finished, Roseluck reclined in her chair and looked up through the windows at the ship that appeared to be floating above them. Scootaloo could not help but occasionally look at it from time to time as well. The design was unlike anything Scootaloo had ever seen before. In the United Military Academy, Scootaloo had familiarized herself with literally hundreds of designs of vessels, ranging from military ships throughout Equestrian history to freighters to commercial space liners. The only time she had encountered anything like this vessel had been in physics textbooks about theoretical spaceflight designs. Even as badly damaged as it was, with a significant amount of its hull plating and overall architecture gone, its curving lines and swept shape were a thing of beauty.

“It almost looks alien,” said Roseluck.

“There are no such thing as aliens,” mumbled Scootaloo, staring back at her star chart.

“That’s not right.”

“No, it is. All sentient life is derived from the Equestrian star system.”

“No. I mean your chart.”

“What do you mean?” said Scootaloo, somewhat angrily. The calculations she was doing were not easy, and she was running on very little sleep.

“Look,” said Roseluck, pointing. “Those distances can’t be right. No ship can move that fast. Not even a Wonderbolt class. It would have to be going fifty times the speed record for any ship ever. And, like, almost nine hundred times our top speed.”

Scootaloo smiled. “That’s not even the weird part.”

“It gets weirder?”

“You wanna see?” Scootaloo clicked her controls, and a second window of blue light appeared, showing a list that Roseluck was sure to recognize.

“A teleportation itinerary,” said Roseluck. “So?”

“So, that ship isn’t on it.”

“So? That’s not that unusual. Classified ships get moved out all the time.”

Scootaloo shook her head. “No. That’s the MASTER itinerary.”

Roseluck’s eyes widened, and she looked away, putting a hoof next to her eyes to block the view of the list. “I don’t think I’m allowed to see that…where did you even GET that?”

“Sources,” said Scootaloo. Meaning, of course, that it had been one of the things that Rainbow Dash had used her “Wonderbolt12345” password on. “That is all the ships that Celestia or Luna have teleported in the last six months. Look.” Scootaloo narrowed the search and highlighted one name. “That’s us. But that ship? Not on it.”

“That’s impossible,” said Roseluck. “The only ship that has an internal teleportation ability is the Harmony.”

“I know.”

They both stared out the window at the ship. Scootaloo felt uneasy.

“Are you sure you don’t want me over there?” asked Roseluck.

“Are you even approved for spacewalking?”

“No, but it doesn’t mean I can’t do it. Back in the Rose Nebula, we used to…” she laughed slightly. “Well, we used to fly personal solar-sail craft. Fell off a few times. I’m used to navigating space.”

“The Rose Nebula? Isn’t that a colony?”

“Way out on the frontier. Nearest populated base is a week trip.”

“I can see why you left.”

Roseluck shook her head. “No, you misunderstand. I loved it there. And once my time in the navy is done, I’m going to take my commission right back out there. I want to start a florist shop.”

“And ride sail-boards?”

Roseluck laughed. “I never said I was especially good at that. Hence why I fell off a lot. Never got hurt, though. I’m pretty lucky that way.”

“Well, I think we need you more on…”

Scootaloo trailed off as a set of hoovesteps was heard on the far side of the hull. Scootaloo and Roseluck paused, and then saw a pony come into view, dressed in a pressure suit and crossing the transparent surface. As the pair watched, a pair of derped yellow eyes looked in at them.

“Captain!” said a voice over the communication channel. “I think I found survivors!”

Scootaloo clicked on her own channel. “Muffins, what are you doing?! You’re on the wrong ship!”

“I am?” She looked around, and then up at the correct ship floating overhead. “Oh. Woops. I just don’t know what went wrong!”

“Rose,” said Scootaloo. “I’m going to need you to suit up after all- -”

“Captain,” said Lyra over the communication channel. Her voice was filled with the warble and static of a weak magical signal.

“Belay that,” said Scootaloo. “Hold on, Lyra, I’m engaging a projection.”

The starchart vanished, but the magical projection expanded, filling the amphitheater of the bridge with blue light. Images resolved into simplistic shapes, and a scale hologram of Lyra was projected in the center of the room, standing in the center of her very own holographic bridge.

“What is it?” said Scootaloo.

The holographic Lyra looked up at Scootaloo. Her face was completely covered in an opque-looking combat mask, but Scootaloo could sense her unease. “Something here isn’t right.”

“I’ll say,” said a gruff female voice. Bengie appeared in the hologram, a diamond dog walking bipedally and holding a clip-board. “Can you believe this? This bridge has a hardwood floor! Fat lot of good it did them when the air left, though.”

“Are there any survivors?”

“You know the answer to that one, Captain,” said Lyra, darkly. She gestured toward the edge of the hologram, which showed a wall with a large hole in it. “Looks like they took a puncture. Wasn’t a meteor, though. The Equestrian steel could handle that. This was something a lot faster and a lot harder.”

“Like what?” Scootaloo stepped forward. “Lyra, you can’t be implying that somepony shot it down?”

“You can see the ship, right? From your window?”

“If Muffins would move her rump, yes.”

Bengie came into view. “Would you believe me if I told you that hole was the only damage this ship took?”

“No,” said Scootaloo. “Look at it. It’s missing half its hull!”

“And its entire engine,” said Bengie. “Including the Core inside. But they weren’t destroyed.”

“Then…what?” asked Roseluck.

“They were removed,” said Lyra.

“Re…removed? By WHAT?” Scootaloo’s heart beat faster. “Do you think it could have been the Crystals?”

“Have you ever seen what the Crystals do to a ship?” asked Lyra. “Trust me, they don’t take pieces.”

“Aliens…” whispered a voice inches from Scootaloo’s ear.

Scootaloo cried out and jumped into the air, her tiny wings fluttering as fast as they could. She turned to see Fluttershy standing behind her, her eyes wide with excitement.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Fluttershy. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“How did you even- -never mind,” said Scootaloo, straightening her uniform. “And I wasn’t startled. Those were my finely tuned combat instincts kicking in. But it wasn’t aliens.”

“Yeah, you might want to rethink that,” said Lyra, adjusting the view of the image.

The ponies on the Bridge- -and Muffins, who was outsides- -all stared wide-eyed at what Lyra focused her transmission on. Inscribed into one of the walls was a complex and aggressive looking symbol.

“This ship was cut apart,” said Lyra, crossing to one of the panels. Her encapsulated horn glowed, and the magic charged the system, producing a holographic plate-interface. Lyra tapped at it with an armored hoof. “What’s left of records shows that the Core was uninjured in the impact. It’s internal life-support system sustained it, and it went dormant. I can only assume that whoever- -or whatever- -pulled this ship apart took it.”

Scootaloo sat back in her chair and clicked on her controls. “I’m running a scan for magical signatures.”

“You don’t think it left all on its own,” said Roseluck.

“No,” said Fluttershy. “She thinks that aliens took it.” She giggled. “Real, live aliens.”

“I think,” said Scootaloo. “That the Core is really, really important.”

“I don’t doubt it,” said Bengie. “There’s not much to work with here, but I can tell you that this isn’t an ordinary ship. It’s small, but this thing would have had a punch like a dragon in heat. The conduits linking to the core were…preposterous, really. Nothing left here is valuable, but I can only guess that the Core they were using was something special.”

“I’ve found something,” said Scootaloo. “It’s weak and…”

“And what?”

“It doesn’t match any known type of magical signature. But it’s definitely there. Something came here, and then left.”

“It has to be aliens,” maintained Fluttershy.

“For the last time, aliens aren’t real!”

“No?” said Fluttershy. “Because I have an entire storage area that begs to differ.”

“Those are just animals,” said Scootaloo, annoyed. “We’re talking about sentient, spacefaring races here. You know as well as I do that they just don’t exist.”

“No?” said Fluttershy, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve seen animals on hundreds of worlds, most of them as smart at least as ponies. It is not much of a stretch to think that they could build a ship.”

“But we know that all sentient life originated on Equestria Prime.”

“Really?” said Fluttershy. “What about my home planet, then?”

“Tartarus is a special case!”

“I don’t really care about academic debates,” said Lyra through the hologram. “Aliens or not, it doesn’t matter. It’s just another thing to kill. This ship has nothing left of value on it. I’m going to copy what is left of the primary logs, but if you want to get that core, we need to follow that trail. And quickly.”

“Right,” said Scootaloo. “Lyra, Bengie, get back to the ship. Muffins…”

“Yes?”

“Wait for Lyra. Then go…I don’t know. Help Carrot or something.”

“Right!”

“Helmsmare.”

“Yes, Captain?”

“How fast do you think we can follow that trail?”

Roseluck smiled. “I’ll push Trixie to her limit.”

“Good. Follow it. We need to recover that Core.”

Chapter 5: Omega

The light of a dark orange star poured through the windows of the ship, casting the inner walls in a strange and ominous color. Starlight Glimmer lifted her hoof over her eyes to shield them from the distant star and watched as it was slowly eclipsed by a large brown and gray planet, its atmosphere covered in thick swirls of dirty clouds.

When the planet had finally fully eclipsed the sun the ship had passed into darkness, Starlight’s eyes adjusted to a new light. Far above the planet’s surface was a red glow. Starlight squinted, and realized that it was coming from a mass of asteroids clustered together and bound to a single massive one, its half-shattered body overgrown with machinery and linked to the glow of cities on the planet below by a long tether.

Ships of every shape and size were swirling around the asteroid cluster. Some were small, but others were immense. Seeing them made Starlight wonder just how big Armchair actually was in comparison.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” asked Armchair.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” said Starlight. Really, she had never seen anything at all, but she was still honestly awestruck by the structure.

“It is one of the few places in the galaxy where a geth transport ship can dock without any questions asked.”

“Why?”

Armchair paused. “Geth are not well liked.”

“Starlight Glimmer,” said a voice from the edge of the hallway. Starlight turned to see Si’y drifting over the uneven path, his armored tentacles swaying as he moved. She noticed that he was wearing different armor than she had seen him in before, and that he was loaded down with several weapons. As she watched, the inspected a pistol and then holstered it in the armor around his main body.

“Si’y,” she said. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Indeed, this one is. It would also kindly suggest that you follow it to the docking bay.”

“Um…okay,” said Starlight. She fell in step with the hanar, even though he was floating rather than stepping.

After a few seconds of walking, several of Si’y’s side-optics focused on Starlight. “This one wonders if the Starlight Glimmer would like a weapon?”

“I…I don’t think I could hold it,” said Starlight, raising one of her hooves.

“This one understands.” He held out a tentacle, showing the mechanical manipulators on the edge. “Possessing tentacles instead of digits and thumbs makes the use of alien weapons difficult for the hanar as well. Yet, despite these biological limitations, the hanar were able to construct spacecraft. Somehow.”

“I don’t think I would feel comfortable holding a weapon anyway.”

“Because you are not confident in your ability to properly wield it, or because you fear having the power to so easily end the life of another?”

“Both.”

“This one understands, then. You share that sentiment with Doctor Fenok, as well as many of this one’s people.”

“But not you?”

“The hanar claim to be among the most advanced cultures of this galaxy. Yet they produce little more than poetry, dances, novels. Nothing of substance, nothing of meaning.” He removed one of the pistols from his person. “The other races, they build this. Things that can truly affect the world.”

“Words can affect the world too.”

“Yes. Because clearly the Commander Shepard stopped the Reapers by speaking with them.”

Starlight sighed. “I can’t help but wonder…”

“Wonder what?”

“Nothing.”

“This one believes that if you started the thought, it is more than nothing.”

“Well, it’s just that…I can’t help but wonder what my people are like.”

“You do not know?”

“No. I’ve never met another pony. At least, not that I can remember. I don’t want to hurt anypony, but….Sjdath said my ship had weapons. No. I know it had weapons. But…but why?”

“This one believes that the answer to that is obvious.”

The conversation stopped there, leaving Starlight to think. She had memories, but they were jumbled and out of order. The idea of hurting any living thing was abhorrent to her. In the mess of her contorted mind, she could recall Equestria and its grand cities. There was peace, and she remembered that she had been happy, but that was so long ago, if it even had been true.

As they made their way toward the docking port, Starlight and Si’y suddenly felt the catwalk she was crossing start shaking under heavy footsteps.

“Dad, come on!” said Zedok, appearing around a corner and walking backward, facing her lumbering krogan father. “You said I was supposed to see the galaxy, didn’t you? Life experience and all that?”

“I did,” said Fenok, sounding exasperated. “But…this is Omega!”

“So, what? You only want me to ‘see the galaxy’ when its prissy schools on Thessia or salarian museums?”

“No, that’s not what I mean!”

Still walking backward, Zedok suddenly tripped over Starlight’s back.

“Zedok!” cried Starlight as she was pushed over.

Zedok cried out, but Si’y moved quickly. As she fell, he stretched out his tentacles and caught her.

“Oof!” she cried. She then looked at Si’y, smiled, and wrapped her arms around his armored core body. “Hey there, Si’y.”

“Here,” said Fenock, lending an immense hand to Starlight.

“Thanks,” she said, taking his hand in her hoof and feeling him pull her up. At the same time, she noticed just how intently he was glaring at Si’y, as though he were about to tear his tentacles off.

“This one was- -just protecting a valued crewmember!” said Si’y, quickly, using his tentacles to put Zedok back on her feet.

“I’m sorry,” said Starlight. “But you really shouldn’t walk backward like that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Zedok, brushing herself off. “I’m still going to Omega, though, and you can’t stop me!”

“Zedok…I didn’t say I was trying to stop you. It’s not safe there, and you know it.”

“I can handle myself,” said Zedok. She raised one of her hands, and the air around it sparked blue. “Besides, Jack will be there.”

“Like that makes me feel better,” muttered Fenok.

Zedok sighed. “Daaaaad, come onnnnn. Look, look at this.” She turned her attention to the tool strapped onto her left wrist. A hologram appeared. “Look! Nos Astra Sporting Goods just opened a store on Omega, and look at this!”

Starlight looked up at the armor. It was a tiny image of a being that looked not unlike an older, bustier version of Zedok carrying a rifle and dressed in form-fitting, partially plated armor. “What is that?” she asked.

“Only the latest in asari battle armor!” said Zedok excitedly. “They made in conjunction with the Batarian Research Collective with REAL Collector technology! Look at this thing! Reinforced isocrystaline plates, a full-body biotic amplification matrix, non-Newtonian nanopolymer systems- -you could take a direct punch from a krogan and not even FEEL it in this thing! Plus- -and the best part- -it’s actually fitted for an asari! Not some surplus human armor with a crappy helmet and no play in the waist- -made for an ACTUAL asari!”

Fenok leaned in closer. “And look at the price!” he cried, his tiny eyes widening. “Ze, for the price of that suit, I could put your through medical school on Sur’Kesh.”
“This one would add that it is twice what we make in a year,” suggested Si’y
. Fenok’s eyes narrowed. “How much are you getting paid?”

“I pay you what you are worth,” hissed Sjdath, shoving- -or rather attempting to shove- -Fenok out of her way. She brushed by him instead, closely followed by Jack. “If you want higher pay, hanar, start shooting the competitors instead of ME.” She paused and looked down at Starlight. She then looked back at Jack. “Please tell me that we are not bringing the horse.”

“Pony!” snapped Starlight. “I am a PONY! How would you like it if I called you a sewage-lizard!”

“I wouldn’t mind at all!” spat Sdjath. “But I WOULD tear out your eyes and eat them while you watched!”

“How would I watch if you’ve already pulled out my eyes?”

They all paused.

“The pony has a point,” said Si’y.

“She needs to see the world some time,” said Jack, interrupting the tension. “Might as well start now.”

“What’s next?” said Sjdath. “Are we going to be taking Arachne out, too?”

“Good luck getting him out,” said Fenok. He reached out and tapped several things into his daughter’s omnitool. The hologram of the heavily armored asari disappeared and was replaced with a list. “You can look at all the clothes you want, but we don’t have the credits for them. Go out there and get these supplies. I would go myself, but, well. You know how I am with other krogan. That, and I have some samples from Ms. Starlight to run.”

“Wait, you took samples of me?!”

“Not very big ones.”

“Wait,” said Zedok, her eyes widening. “You mean I can go?”

“Yeah, sure,” growled Fenok, looking away. “You’re growing up so fast, it’s…sometimes hard not to see you as my little girl anymore.”

“Dad!” Zedok hugged him, something she had to jump to do.

“I hire a krogan and I get a marshmallow,” sighed Sjdath.

“Eep!” cried Starlight, blushing. “Don’t put your tentacle there!”

“Sorry,” said Si’y.

“Just try not to get into a knife fight with a drell,” said Fenok, setting his daughter down.

Zedok looked up at him in awe. “You mean the last time you were on Omega you fought a drell?”

“No, of course not! You’d have to be insane to knife-fight a drell! It was actually your mother.”

“We are now fully docked,” said Armchair from above. “Connected at level seventy six, delta section, Zeta district. As requested.”

“Good,” said Sdjath. “Let’s try to make this as quick as possible.”

The large outer door slid open, and Starlight was immediately struck with an extremely unpleasant smelling wind. It smelled like trash and stale air mixed with all kinds of smells that were almost food.

“Sweet Celestia,” she said, covering her nose. “Is it supposed to stink that badly?”

“It’s Omega,” said Jack, stepping out past her. She took a deep breath. “I’ve smelled worse.”

“The smell is not unpleasant to this one,” said Si’y, floating past Zedok and Sjdath as the silvery door to Armchair’s innards closed behind them.

“You have an internal life support system in there,” said Zekok.

“Indeed, it does.”

“I bet I know where you’re going,” said Sjdath, lurching out onto the hard, cold metal of the isolated landing dock and adjusting her breathing valves.

“This one would assert that asari consorts will not…care for themselves.”

“This is Omega, not the Citadel,” said Sjdath. “They are not ‘consorts’ here. They are prostituka. And trust me,” she looked down at Starlight. “They stink far worse than the rest of this hole.”

“You know, I’m asari,” said Zedok. “And I don’t stink.”

Si’y looked up at her. “Zedok is the daughter of a krogan, and this one prefers its hydrostatic skeleton to remain unruptured, thank you very much.”

“Oh, come on. Daddy’s a pacifist.”

“The Hanar have a saying that many a man is a pacifist until matters come to his daughter.”

“No they don’t,” said Sdjath.

“Nevertheless.” Si’y held out his frontal tentacles in front of him, curing them around where his chest would have been if he had been a biped. “Your form is far to…maidenlike for this one’s preference.”

“Hey!” cried Zedok.

“I’m surprised you’re bothering with that,” said Jack.

“Mercenary Jack underestimates how much this one enjoys hot-buttered asari.”

“No, I mean because of this.” She pointed at a torn poster hanging crooked on one of the walls. Starlight looked up at it, and saw that it depicted a creature similar to Si’y’s proportions, except instead of being covered in metal it was apparently nude, and holding a gun wrapped in one tentacle. Starlight had wondered what Si’y looked like under his suit, but she had not imagined him to be so pink and eyeless.

Upon seeing the poster, Si’y released a garbled mechanical noise. He moved quickly to the poster.

“There is a new Blasto movie?!” he cried, excitedly. He read the text on the poster. “Played in full-color high-realism 96K holograms in a traditional batarian circular amphitheater?!” He turned to the others. “The asari can wait. This one NEEDS to see that film!”

Before anyone could even try to stop him, he rushed off down a narrow corridor.

“Well,” said Zedok. “I’d go with him, but to be honest, I don’t think it’s worth the trouble to sit through a whole Blasto movie. I’m going to go get daddy’s supplies, and then I’m going to have a look around.”

“Wait,” said Jack. She reached into her belt and pulled out an unusually large pistol. She tossed it to Zedok, who caught it easily. “Take this.”

Zedok looked down at the pistol and her eyes widened. “This- -this is a Spectre pistol,” she said in awe. She looked up at Jack. “Where- -where did you even get this?”

“Simple. I killed a Spectre.”

“No way!”

“Are you doubting that I could?”

“N- -no!” cried Zedok. She looked back down at the pistol. “Wow, it’s even monogrammed…who was ‘J.S.’?”

“It’s already loaded with polonium ammo, and I know you got Si’y to show you how to use it. Just don’t lose it.”

“What about you?” said Starlight, looking up at Jack. “You don’t have a gun now.”

“I don’t need one anyway. I haven’t in years.”

“Of…of course.” Zedok regained part of her composure and smiled. “Of course, I won’t need it either. I’m a biotic too, after all!”

She turned and took a running start before her legs charged with blue energy and she jumped an impossible height to an overhang on the next level up. “I’ll meet you back here in an…in two hours!”

Zedok then ran off. Jack watched her go, and then started walking away.

“And where are you going?” demanded Sjdath.

“To get a drink,” said Jack.

“You’re just going to leave me alone with the HORSE?”

“I WILL gore you with my horn if you call me horse one more time, sewage-lizard.”

Jack just waved as she left, not even looking back.

“Great,” said Sjdath. “Just great. No biotics, no weapons, so I hire a crew to protect me, and what do I get?” She gestured to Starlight. “I get THIS.” She sighed and looked down at Starlight. “I suppose I have to buy you an omnitool, too. I WILL be taking it out of their pay.”

Sjdath began to stamp off down a dark and wide hall. Starlight followed her. “At least you have claws,” she said, falling into a trot to keep up with Sjdath’s loping gate. “All I’ve got is a horn, and it’s real nubby and dull.”

“Yes, because clearly my claws will protect me against a krogan with an assault rifle. And at least you are a biotic.”

“A biotic?”

“Like Jack, and the asari girl.”

“I heard Fenok talking about that. What does it mean?”

“You seriously don’t know?”

“Would I ask if I knew?”

“It means you can move things. Localized mass-effect fields, really, but I don’t really feel like explaining it.”

“Move things? How much?”

“I don’t know! I’m a scrapper, biotics never really concerned me. But…”

“But what?”

“When you freaked back in my shop, you moved a piece that was over four metric tons at those gravity levels. Granted, you didn’t pick it up, but it is still impressive that you could even slide it.”

They took a side hallway that was venting a strong wind and started down it. Several creatures were standing at the entrance, loitering and speaking to each other. Starlight did not recognize them; one had four eyes, while another was wearing a mask that covered his entire face with an expressionless plate. Both of them stopped and stared at Starlight, but stepped back when they saw Sjdath. They immediately went back to talking.

“Damn quarians,” said Sjdath as her and Starlight descended into the trash-filled darkness of the lower level. “A bunch of genetic failures. I can see why the geth wiped most of them out.”

As they got deeper into that particular corridor, Starlight began to notice that they were still not alone. Figures were moving amongst the abandoned and damaged equipment and discarded parts of obsolete technology.

Slowly, they got more bold and began to step into the dim white light. Starlight pulled close to Sdjath, but she realized upon seeing the others that they were the same kind of creature that Sjdath was. They looked a little bit different: their skin was not as thick, and their faces were exposed to reveal sharp teeth set in grinning faces. They were dressed in armor that looked like it was made from scrap. They were vorcha.

Quickly, they began to surround Sjdath and Starlight.

“We need to hurry,” whispered Starlight.

“Niet,” said Sjdath, stopping.

“What are you doing?!” hissed Starlight.

Before Sjdath could answer, one of the other vorcha stepped forward. He opened his mouth and his tongue flicked through the air. He then spoke in a harsh, hissing language that Starlight could not understand.

Sjdath paused for a moment, reaching up to adjust her valves. Then she spoke in the same language.

The other vorcha’s eyes widened, and with a scream he leapt onto Sjdath, trying to pull her back into the surrounding crowd.

“Sjdath!” cried Starlight.

Sjdath hissed in her own language, and with one swift motion brought her claw across the attacking vorcha’s face, cutting him deeply. He screamed, and Sjdath kicked him back. Another swipe of her claw across his face brought him down and ruined one of his eyes. Now clutching his face, Sjdath looked around. Her eyes fell onto a rusted piece of metal. She picked it up, hefted it, and then brought it town on the second vorcha’s right arm. There was a sound of bones snapping, and Starlight felt like she was going to vomit.

The vorcha screamed, and Sjdath yelled at him, beating him again and again before finally taking the point of the bar and shoving it through his neck, pinning him to hollowed out mainframe that lay beneath him. As he struggled against it, she turned to the crowd and addressed them. They looked at each other, and then nodded in agreement. They separated and allowed her and Starlight to pass.

When they were away from the others, Starlight looked back, seeing them pull the metal out of their friend and help him stand before shoving him back into the pile of scrap. Starlight realized that she was shaking.

“Why- -why did you do that?” she asked, weakly.

Sjdath adjusted her valves. “He cordially asked if he could mate with me,” she said. “I politely declined. He was not ugly, but far too young, and I have far too little time.”

“You could have killed him!”

“He is vorcha. He will survive. In the absence of my body, I gifted him pain. If he is worthy of life, he will heal and become stronger.” Sjdath released a hiss-like sigh. “This, it is not something you could understand.”

“Is it…is that just what vorcha do?”

“Yes. We are not weak like other races. We heal, and we adapt in ways they never can. Why do you think they live down here, in this trash? Because they can. Because we can.” Sjdath looked down at Starlight. “For this reason, we are considered vermin.”

“That’s ridiculous! You’re people, just like the rest of us!”

“Not in the eyes of many, no. But we are far from the worst.”

“Worse?” squeaked Starlight. She understood that the vorcha were not evil, just different- -but they were still scary and violent. If there was something worse, she did not want know what it was.

“Oh yes. For as bad as we are, we only change ourselves to fit our world. There is a race far worse than us, a plague on our galaxy.”

“And…what is it?”

“The humans.”

“Humans?” said Starlight, momentarily imagining something monstrous and grotesque. Then she remembered something. “Wait…you mean like Jack?”

Sjdath growled. “No…I don’t know what Jack is. She might have been human once, but not anymore. But yes. The people of the planet Earth.”

“Earth? As in, like, dirt?”

“Indeed. An appropriate name for such filth. We vorcha, we spread…but they, they spread faster. They conquer and destroy. Within barely half a century, they had already gotten a place on the Council. Not that the Council races have any power anymore. But I’ve seen what they are capable of. I know.”

“I don’t understand,” said Starlight.

Sjdath adjusted her valve. “I am from a place called Wastestation 3M TA3.”

“Is that your homeworld?”

“No. It is a human installation. They built it almost as soon as they established faster-than-light travel. Its sole purpose was to seek out habitable worlds to dump toxic waste onto.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Not to you. You are sane. To humans, that is considered brilliance. Dump it into a star? A gas giant? No. Somewhere with air, so they could come back to it later. A very human prospect. They did not succeed.”

“Why?”

“They never found what they were looking for. The crew mutinied. The workers became cannibals and devoured the officers. It was abandoned, and eventually inhabited by my ancestors. But…”

“But?”

“There were stories. Vorcha seeing strange things moving in the dark, crawling in the vents. And murders. Bodies eaten with flat tooth-marks, not like vorcha have.” She adjusted her valves again. “The humans are worse than we are. By far.”

“That valve,” said Starlight. “You adjust it when you’re nervous.”

Sjdath looked down at her hand, and then pulled it away. “No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

She released a low hiss. “I suppose I have a tell, then.”

“Why are you the nervous one here? I’m the soft, squishy, pretty one.”

“I assure you, by vorcha standers, I am…how is the slang? ‘Smokin hot’?” She laughed, or did something that Starlight assumed was laughter. Then she became more serious. “I am terrified,” she said. “I just wanted to get some fuel and get the blyad out of here…but it’s never that easy.”

“Because that four-eyed guy is following us?”

“You noticed too?”

“Yeah.”

Starlight looked just slightly over her shoulder, which was not difficult with her enormous eyes. Indeed, he was still there, hanging back as though he were just walking in the same direction, never looking straight at them- -at least with his lower eyes. His upper eyes were locked tightly onto Sjdath, though, and Starlight doubted he even noticed he was doing it.

“I’m not welcome here,” said Sjdath. “Damn it, he’s probably working for Aria.”

“Who’s Aria?”

“Let’s hope you never need to find out.” Sjdath opened her omnitool and began typing on the hologram. “Alright. I am going to try to use a neural overcharge on him. It should- -”

“I wouldn’t,” said a gruff voice. A pair of armored krogan stepped out from behind a pair of supports, blocking the path. One pointed a large shotgun- -which looked small compared to him, of course- -at Sjdath’s head. The other pointed his rifle at Starlight. From behind, Starlight heard the sound of a much smaller weapon being drawn and knew that the four-eyed man was covering their retreat.

“Don’t try anything,” said the krogan with the shotgun. “I’ve seen a lot of vorcha get shot, but I’ve never seen one manage to grow back a whole head.”

“Krogan warriors,” said Sjdath, lifting her hands over her head in surrender. “I am only here to get fuel for my ship! I’m sure we can work something out! If you will just let me reach for my omnitool, I’m sure I can transfer you a substantial tip for doing such fine work protecting this trash heap.”

“Do you really think we’re that stupid? Well…” he looked to his associate. “He is.”

“Hey!”

“Come on, you know you are.” He turned back to Sjdath. “But we don’t work for money anyway. We work for Aria.”

“I work for money!” exclaimed the four-eyed man.

“Quiet, you! This vorcha is real important to Aria. And she’s been dying to see you, Sjdath. Well, maybe SHE’s not the one who’ll be dying.”

“What about the…um…tiny elcor?” asked the other.

“I don’t even know what that is, but if you try to touch me, I will bite you so hard!”

“Not an elcor. Um, yeah. Take that one too. Aria will know what to do with it.”

The shotgun krogan stepped aside and then pushed Sjdath forward. His comrade kicked Starlight hard in the flank, causing her to cry out and fall into step.

Sdjath groaned. “This is exactly what I knew would happen!”

Far away from the obscure, vorcha-infested depths, in one of the many bars in Omega, a human and a salarian sat at the bar contemplating the tiniest of shot glasses sitting before them.

“I don’t think this is such a good idea,” said the salarian.

“Oh, come on,” said the human. “Ryncol can’t be that bad.”

“It catches on fire, you know that, right?”

“So do lots of things.”

“Not lots of things that you drink.”

The human reached out and gingerly took the thimble-sized glass. He looked over nervously at the salarian. “Are you sure you don’t want to go first?”

“Positive. I have too much to live for.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” The human stared at the tiny aliquot of cloudy liquid and took a deep breath, steeling his nerve. Then he downed it.

This was followed by a great deal of coughing, choking, and spitting blood for several minutes while his salarian friend looked on with a combination of panic and bemusement. Eventually, though, the human’s coughing spasm slowed.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” gasped the human, feeling the horrid taste of the fluid rise through his mouth one more time in what he could have sworn was a puff of smoke.

“How do you feel?”

“Actually, pretty okay,” said the human, clearing his throat. “No. In fact, I feel better than okay. I feel great! I feel like I could pull the ears off a- -”

He stood up, but as he did, he looked down and suddenly became aware of a blue-green unicorn deeply contemplating his right hand.

The unicorn looked up at him. “Has anyone ever told you that you have nice hands?”

The human turned to the salarain. “Nope, I was wrong. I need to go to the hospital. RIGHT NOW.”

As the human began to panic, Lyra pulled herself off the high bar stool and trotted out of the bar.

“Lyra!” cried Scootaloo, emerging from the crowd outside dressed in planetary-landing naval armor. “You can’t just run off like that!”

“Have you seen these aliens?” said Lyra. She looked back at the group in the bar, with special attention to the several scantily clad blue girls. “They have HANDS! Actual, sexy, sexy hands…I want one to run one through my mane and say I’m a good girl…”

“You’re our only unicorn, and the only one here who actually knows how to fight! You can’t just leave the group, it breaks protocol!”

“Protocol?” said Lyra. “Really? There isn’t exactly a protocol for being on an ALIEN ASTEROID. And…” She bent down closer to Scootaloo. “Doesn’t protocol say the captain isn’t supposed to go on away missions? And where did you even get an armored uniform that small?”

“I can make changes to the protocol if I want to!”

“Like bringing HER?”

They both looked into the crowd of tall bipedial aliens walking by. From the group, they could hear a soft voice coming from around there knees.

“Oh, sorry! My apologies! Oh, please watch my tail! Oh! I’m so sorry!”

“Watch it!” said a passing creature.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Please forgive me!”

With some effort, Fluttershy pushed through the group’s legs and back to Scootaloo and Lyra. Fluttershy was also dressed in planetary landing armor, and never before had it seemed so out of place on a pony.

“Fluttershy is Equestria’s foremost xenobiologist,” said Scootaloo. “It made sense to bring her.”

“She specializes in ANIMALS,” said Lyra. “And we’re not here to see the sights!”

“I beg to differ. I mean, if that’s okay,” said Fluttershy. “This could be the single greatest discovery in all of Equestrian history! Just look at them all! Real aliens!”

The group began walking, with Lyra and Fluttershy flanking Scootaloo. Due to her size, Scootaloo could be easily trampled underfoot by the aliens.

“It’s just like in the stories,” muttered Lyra.

“Stories?” asked Scootaloo.

Lyra nodded. “My people have passed down stories for many generations. Stories of the Humans. These aliens, they look a lot like them.”

“Humans are a Questlord myth,” said Scootaloo.

“That’s what I thought too. But now…”

“We’re in the middle of a clearly advanced, spacefaring alien society,” said Fluttershy.

“A smelly one,” added Scootaloo.

“Can’t you just let me enjoy this? Maybe I can take a few samples…do you think their arms grow back? I’m pretty sure they do…”

“We’re not here to take samples,” said Scootaloo. “The trail led us here.”

“To a hive of over four hundred vessels, all of them silent on all known magical channels. How can we even know which one the Core is on?”

“We look, and we ask around,” said Scootaloo. “I’m an officer of the Royal Navy. They will answer to me.”

“Do you really think that any of these things even know what the Royal Navy is?”

Scootaloo paused, knowing that Lyra was right. There was no way to find the lost Core just by walking around, not when it was probably being stored on any number of those ships- -unless of course it had already left. The thought of having let it slip through her hooves made Scootaloo panic slightly, wondering if she had made the wrong decision. Now the Core being stolen was her fault.

“No,” she said. “A city this big, it has to have a leader, somepony in charge. We find her, we find the Core.”

“Right,” said Lyra. “That’s as good of a plan as any.”

The two of them accelerated, and Fluttershy fell behind.

“Wait!” she cried. “Don’t leave me- -OOF!” She was knocked over from an impact with something hard.

“Watch it!” yelled a distorted voice.

“I’m so sorry,” said Fluttershy, rubbing her head.

“You had better be. You’ve damaged my suit!” Fluttershy looked up at a creature that, unlike the others, was barely her size and almost perfectly spherical. “It’s going to take more than ‘sorry’ to pay for this- -”

Fluttershy gasped so long and so loud that the creature’s mechanical eyes widened and he stepped back. “What- -what are you doing? What- -what even are you?”

“YOU ARE SO ADORABLE!” cried Fluttershy, wrapping the volus in a powerful hug. “So round, so chunky! I could just…eat you up…”

“Wow,” choked the volus. “You are exorbitantly soft…say. I have some friends I think might like you…”

Farther ahead, Scootaloo looked back. “Great, now we lost Fluttershy.”

“Never mind,” said Lyra. “She isn’t useful for anything anyway.”

“You know, a lot of ponies on Equestria consider her ‘Best Pony’.”

“And yet they stuck her on a long-term deep space mission. And, to be honest, I don’t blame them. Tartarans creep me out.”

“But she’s so soft.”

“You would know.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Frankly? I’m saying that you don’t get a captainship at your age without preening a few pedofillies.”

Scootaloo grabbed the front of Lyra’s metal armor and pushed her off the main path. Lyra was surprisingly heavy, but allowed herself to be pushed. “You did NOT just mean Rainbow Dash there, did you? HMM?”

“So what if I did?”

“Slander against the Fleet Commander is punishable by court-martial- -or death!”

“I’m a contractor. At worst, they fire me.”

“Oh, I’ll fire you alright.” Scootaloo pulled Lyra close. “My sister NEVER touched me! Not like that!”

“Even when you wanted her to?”

Scootaloo raised her tiny hoof to slap Lyra, but found that she could not do it. Instead, she released Lyra.

“You didn’t argue that you really deserve your position, either.”

“Do you think I don’t know?” whispered Scootaloo. She looked over her shoulder and glared back at Lyra. “Do you really think I’m that naïve? I know why I got this job. Do you think I ever wanted to be a captain?”

“Are you seriously looking that gift horse in the mouth?”

“Gift? All I ever wanted was to be with her! To be her sister! To live in her house, to help her with her job- -and she gives me THIS. Stuck on some Celestia-forsaken rock covered in hideous reeking giants!”

“And yet you’re still trying to impress her.”

“What else am I supposed to do!?”

“Don’t,” said Lyra. Her seriousness stopped Scootaloo in her tracks. “Just don’t. I know where this road goes. Scootaloo, it leads to me.” She gestured to her destroyed eye and the scars on her face, and then to the barely visible ones on her neck that lead beneath her armor.

“Just help me get the Core back.”

Lyra sighed. “Fine. But it would help if you could fly up over their heads and check the area.”

Scootaloo muttered something.

“What?”

“I….”

“Can’t hear you. You sound like Fluttershy.”

“I said I can’t fly!” screamed Scootaloo, causing several aliens to look at her.

“You…you can’t fly? Seriously?”

“I have stubby wings!”

“My own feces! Aren’t you supposed to be sister to RAINBOW DASH? You know, the greatest flyer in Equestrian history?”

“I’m still growing!”

“You’re almost old enough to foal!”

“What does that have to- -you know what, let me show you!” Scootaloo extended her tiny, pointless wings and fluttered them rapidly. She took a running jump into the air- -and slammed right into the back of a blue skinned girl.

“Crap!” cried the girl, falling over backward. Scootaloo cried out and was nearly crushed beneath her weight. The girl fell, and what she had been carrying clattered to the ground. Lyra moved out of the way, but she kept her eyes on a large pistol that clattered across the floor.

“Watch where you’re going!” cried the blue girl angrily, rubbing her head. “If I wasn’t in a hurry I would kick you- -um…” she sat up, pulling herself off the tiny filly that she had nearly crushed to death. “Ponies!” she said.

“You know what we are?” gasped Scootaloo, rubbing her head and standing.

“N- -no,” said the girl, looking suspicious. One of her hands went to her side.

“Looking for this?” said Lyra, lifting the weapon in her magic.

The girl jumped back slightly, apparently surprised by the orange glow that was emanating from Lyra’s horn and from around the pistol. “You- -you give that back!”

“How about you run one of those hands of yours through my mane and call me a good girl.”

“Lyra, just giver her back her…whatever that is!”

“I was joking,” said Lyra, passing the weapon back to the girl. She yanked it out of the air and put it back into her belt. “Nice model, though. Polonium projectiles. Good choice.”

“Thanks,” said the girl, darkly.

“You seemed to recognize us,” said Lyra, her eye narrowing. “Any reason why?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Then I will make you talk,” said Lyra, charging her horn.

“Come at me, little horse.”

“Lyra!” cried Scootaloo. “Hold on!” She looked up at the girl, who was now crouched near them. “My name is Captain Scootaloo of the Royal Equestrian Navy.”

The girl raised one eyebrow. “Aren’t you a little young to be a captain?”

“Aren’t you a little young to be stuffing your bra like that?”

“Lyra! SHUT. IT.” Scootaloo turned back to the girl. “We were dispatched here to recover equipment stolen from a damaged experimental ship. Mainly, the Core.”

“I don’t know anything about any ships,” said the girl. “I live here, on Omega. Always have. Probably always will.”

“Well, then, perhaps you could tell us who rules here?”

“Rules?”

“Who is in charge? That equipment is extremely valuable property of the Equestrian government, and we would like to work on getting it back.”

“In charge? Aria.”

“Aria?” said Lyra. “As in the siren?”

“As in the asari,” said the girl. “You know, like me. Except less sexy.” She looked around nervously. “Don’t tell her I said that, though. I mean, really. Don’t tell her. She’ll find me.”

“Then we will speak to this ‘Aria’,” said Scootaloo. “Thank you for your service to the Eternal Equestrian Empire.”

Scootaloo walked past the girl, and Lyra followed, winking as she passed and causing the girl to shiver.

When they were out of sight, Zedok stood up. “This is not good...”

Starlight was pushed harshly. She stumbled down a small set of stairs. Sjdath was pushed as well, but being a biped, she more easily caught herself. She turned and hissed at the krogan who had shoved her, but still moved in the direction she was being led.

They had been brought to a large platform high above much of Omega. In the distance, Starlight could hear loud music and see the lights of a club. The platform was almost empty, save for a number of heavily armed krogan, many with their faces covered with thick, featureless mask.

One figure was seated, and as Sjdath and Starlight were forced to approach, Starlight realized to her surprise that the woman on the long bench was an asari. She did not look even look threatening; if anything, she looked oddly like an older and bluer Zadok.

“Lady Aria,” hissed Sjdath, stepping forward. “I was just coming to- -”

Aria held up a finger, silencing Sjdath. “You will speak when I tell you to. The sound of your voice makes me want to bludgeon you to death, and frankly, these clothes cost more than ten of you and I’d rather not get blood on them.” She stood up, and then looked down at Starlight. “What is this? You have a dog now?”

“I am a pony,” snapped Starlight.

“It talks,” said Aria, mildly amused. “And just when I thought I’d seen everything.” She crouched down near Starlight. “Hmm. If it wasn’t for all that metal, it might even be cute.”

“There are more important things than being ‘cute’.”

Aria smiled. “Yes, there are.” She stood back up. “If that were the case, I’d be dancing on a table somewhere and Sjdath…well, she’d have died in the womb.”

“Aria, please,” said Sjdath, nervously.

“That talking again.” She pointed at one of her krogan aids. “You. Rip her vocal cords out.”

“No, wait, Aria, please! At least give me a chance to explain!”

“Sure.” Aria sat back down on her couch. “I’ll let you explain. All you have to do is tell me the account where you have my two million credits, and I’ll let you and your pony walk out of here right now.”

“I…I don’t have it.”

Aria sighed and shook her head. “Sjdath…you know that doesn’t speak well of you.” She snapped her fingers and smaller asari appeared from behind the krogan, carrying a tray with a glass on it. The second asari held it out, and Aria took it. She swirled it and sipped it slowly. “Delicious,” she said. “Thank you, Jenny.” As Jenny bowed and left, and Aria looked up at Sjdath. “See, Jenny knows her job. She likes to make me happy, because when I’m happy, everyone is happy. All these… ‘handsome’ krogan? They know their job. They do it, and it makes me happy. I gave you a job, Sjdath. And did you do it?” She stood up rapidly and threw the empty glass on the floor, causing it to shatter at Starlight’s feet. “NO! You didn’t, did you?”

“Aria, I tried- -”

“I gave you an advance of two million credits for ONE job, Sjdath. It wasn’t even hard.”

“It was impossible to know that Cerberus had booby-trapped the freighter! It went up before I could get the weapons off! We were lucky to have survived!”

“And where are my weapons?”

“They- -they were destroyed.”

“Okay, then,” said Aria, seeming somewhat calmer. “I get it. That happens. So just give me back my money.”

“Lady Aria, come on. There’s overhead on any salvage mission, and that one- -”

“You spent it,” said Starlight.

“NOT HELPING,” hissed Sjdath.

“So,” said Aria. “You spent my money.”

“I can pay it back, Aria. I just need more time!”

“Really?” Aria stepped closer. “Do you intend to sell pony rides, perhaps?”

Shaking, Sjdath started to turn the valve on her mask, increasing the flow. Aria reached out suddenly and grabbed Sjdath’s arm.

“You know,” she said, “you really are an interesting case. I’ve seen firsthand that vorcha can adapt to just about anything. Low pressure, radiation, toxicity…but you…your entire physiology is adapted for breathing a mixture of sulfur dioxide and hydrogen sulfide. I didn’t even know vorcha could do that. You really are a tribute to your people.”

“Aria, please,” whispered Sjdath.

“Of course,” said Aria, releasing Sjdath and stepping back. “That does make me wonder.” She looked up to one of the krogan behind Sjdath and Starlight and nodded. Before Sjdath could react, one of them reached down and tore off her mask.

Sjdath’s eyes widened. She turned arouond, trying to grab her breathing apparatus from the krogan. He held it out of her reach and struck her in the chest, forcing her to gasp. As soon as she did, her hands went to her own throat as she started to gasp and cough. Sjdath turned around, panicking, and then fell to her knees next to Starlight.

“I really do wonder,” said Aria, standing over Sjdath. “Which will happen first? Can you acclimate to an oxygen atmosphere before you suffocate?”

“Aria,” gasped Sjdath. “I will…tear out…” she was unable to finish her sentence with anything more than a puddle of black fluid that poured from her mouth.

“Sjdath!” cried Starlight, putting her forelegs around her dying friend. She looked up at Aria. “Please, give her back her mask! She’s dying!”

“That’s the idea,” replied Aria. “Isn’t that the vorcha way? She was foolish enough to come here, to MY house, without even trying to pay me. I can’t let that go unpunished.”

Sjdath collapsed completely onto the floor, breathing rapidly. “Sjdath!” cried Starlight.

“Don’t worry, pony,” said Aria. “You don’t owe me anything. But I suppose you do belong to me now. You really are cute. Perhaps you can learn to dance for me.” She shrugged. “Or, well….maybe we can sell pony ‘rides’. That would probably be…”

Aria paused, and her eyes widened. She raised her right arm and it charged with a corona of blue light. Before Starlight knew what was going on, a sphere of blue energy slammed into Aria’s arm, impacting with enough force to knock her off balance. The combination of energies produced a resounding explosion that knocked back several of the closest krogan.

Starlight threw herself over Sjdath in fear, feeling the energy of the blast tingling through the center of her horn and deep into her skull. For just a moment, she was disoriented but still aware enough to see the krogan behind her flash with blue light and then drift into the air helplessly before being slammed into the floor with enough force to deform the metal.

As they tried to struggle futilely against their newfound weight, a glowing figure stepped past them through the path she had made for herself.

“Jack!” cried Starlight.

The krogan standing behind Aria raised their weapons, Jack opened her hands, filling them with blue energy that sparked and concentrated.

“HOLD YOUR FIRE!” cried Aria, raising one hand. “She’s insane enough that she would actually try to fight!”

“And I would win,” said Jack.

“I don’t care who wins or loses,” said Aria, shaking her head. “It’s the property damage I’m concerned about.” She looked angrily at Jack. “Why are you here, Jaqueline?”

Jack dispelled her biotic energy and stepped down. She pointed at Sjdath. “Because she’s the one providing me with a paycheck.”

“Her? Really?” Aria looked down at the now mostly still vorcha, then back up at Jack. “Really? Come on, Jaqueline, you’re better than that and you know it.”

“Don’t call me that,” said Jack, calmly, “or I will do something we’ll both regret…well, you’ll regret it.”

Aria smiled. “You’re powerful, Jaqueline. Cerberus certainly does good work. But you’re still just a human. I think I could take you.”

Jack charged her biotic energy again. “Do you want to try?”

“Not here, no.”

“Good.” Jack reached down and picked up Sjdath’s mask. She threw it to Starlight, who caught it and, after fumbling for a few moments, managed to put it onto Sjdath’s face. Sjdath did not react at first, but then gasped heavily and started to convulse. After a few panicked seconds, she pushed Starlight away and tried to sit up.

“You’re sticking your neck out awfully far for her, Jaqueline,” said Aria, crossing her arms. “You know the law here.”

“Yes. It is you.”

“Exactly.” Aria looked down at Sjdath. “See? You should really listen to your employees.”

“Buck you,” growled Starlight.

The krogan soldiers- -many of whom were staring to manage to stand up- -seemed to take grave offense to that statement, and started to turn their weapons at her.

“No, no,” said Aria. “I like to see a girl with some tenacity. Don’t kill her. I will break her legs later. Assuming, of course, that Jaqueline can give me one good reason why I should put up with the migraine that you are all giving me.”

“I can’t speak for the pony,” said Jack, “and Sjdath is some fugly scum, but come on, Aria. If you kill her, I don’t get paid, and neither do you.”

“She spent two million credits. My credits. I’m out of patience, Jaqueline.”

“How long do vorcha live, Aria? Seventeen, eighteen years? Twenty at most?”

“So?”

“So? You’re, what, six hundred something?”

“Three hundred and eighty seven,” said Aria, darkly.

“Yeah right. You’re almost to Matriarch, then. Congratulations. I hear you get a special pin.”

“Jack!” hissed Sjdath, still catching her breath. “You are making it WORSE!”

“You really do have a death wish, don’t you?”

“I’ve had a death wish since I could walk. It’s why I’m here. Not the point. What I’m saying is, ten more years is a blink for you.”

“So, what? You expect me to grant her mercy? Come on, Jaqueline. You know me better than that.”

“No. You just need to give her a chance to repay.”

“Repay me? Two million credits? Off SCRAP?”

Jack pointed at Starlight. “Do you know what this is?”

“A small, talking unicorn.” Aria looked up at Jack. “I’m not going to buy the unicorn. It’s cute, but not worth two million.”

“It came with a ship.”

That seemed to get Aria’s attention. “A ship? What kind?”

“Alien,” said Jack. “Technology unlike anything we’ve ever seen.”

“You have it?”

“We have most of it.”

Aria paused for a moment. “I suppose that’s a start. Fine. You can sell that to my dealer.”

“No.”

“No?”

“NO?” shouted Sjdath.

“Come on, Aria,” said Jack. “Do I look like an idiot?”

“No, you look like a tattooed hag.”

“And I still get more than you.”

“Not exactly something to brag about, Jaqueline. And no, you don’t.”

“I figured you actually wanted to make money on this stuff. That volus ballock you’ve got upstairs won’t even know what to do with this stuff.”

“Then what?”

“It has to be sold in Council space. This is some real science stuff. Researchers, collectors, they’ll pay big for what we’ve got.”

Aria’s brow furrowed, and she paced for a moment- -a very long moment.

“Crap,” she finally said. “You know, Jacqueline, you were much more fun when you didn’t take time to think things out. I was really looking forward to watching that thing suffocate, but you’re right. As much as I hate to admit it. Killing her gets me nothing. Well, not nothing, but no money.”

“So you’ll consider it?”

“Counter offer. You come work with me. I think you could do some real good for me here.”

Jack shook her head. “I’m not ready to settle down yet, Aria. Besides, you’re not my type.”

“I know your type. Frankly, that’s one thing I can’t argue with you on.” She sighed. “Fine. Fine! But if she ever- -EVER comes back here, I will personally gut her and force-feed her the entrails. And if I don’t get paid, ALL of you are…well…I’ll let that be a surprise. Except for the pony. I think I’d keep her.” She turned around and waved her hand. “And Jaqueline, PLEASE put a shirt on. You’re, what, pushing forty? You’re starting to sag.”

“As you wish, Matriarch,” said Jack, bowing hyperbolically.

Aria went back to her couch, and the krogan stepped far back from her. “Just so you know, though, I am PISSED right now. Mostly at you. Get your supplies and get out. Don’t come back until you have my money.” She spread her arms over the edges of the couch. “And when you do come back, the drinks are on you. Maybe this time you’ll get drunk enough to have a few of my babies.”

“I don’t think there’s enough ryncol in the galaxy for that.”

“OUT,” said Aria, pointing. “First payment is one hundred K. You have one month.”

“One month!” cried Sjdath, standing suddenly. She coughed hard. “I…ohhhh…I should have just died…”

“It’s still an option,” said Aria.

“Thanks, Aria,” said Jack, grabbing Sjdath by spines on the back of her head and turning her around to the gauntlet of extremely perturbed looking krogan that had formerly been trapped under her biotic field.

“Pony,” called Aria. Starlight looked back at her. “A word of advice: when you get the chance, run. You’re not doing yourself any favors being around her.”

“With all due respect: it’s my life. Butt out.”

“Fine,” said Aria. “But if you want a home here, I’ll have a saddle and crop waiting for you.”

“Move. Now,” ordered Jack.

When they were out of sight of Aria and her soldiers, Starlight finally breathed a sigh of relief. Her reprieve was short lived, however, because almost as soon as she was starting to calm down she felt Jack reach down and grab her horn sharply.

“OW! Jack, stop!” she cried, trying to pull away but finding herself unable to. “That- -that hurts!”

“What do you think you were doing back there, Starlight?” hissed Jack, pulling Starlight’s head back. Starlight cried out in discomfort; her horn was far more sensitive than she had ever realized, and having it jarred so sharply was painful.

“I- -I don’t understand!”

“You’re a biotic, aren’t you? And you were just going to sit there and watch her die?”

“There- -my horn, Jack!”

“ANSWER. ME.”

“I- -I couldn’t do anything! They had guns, and- -”

“So what? I don’t care if there was an entire turian contingent behind them! Do you have any idea what they will do to you if you don’t fight back? You don’t just SIT there. Not when your friend is dying in front of you.”

“Friend?” said Starlight, confused.

Jack threw Starlight’s head to the side and released her. Starlight shook her head, trying to get the uncomfortable tingling out of her mind.

“Don’t you ever touch me there again,” she said, rubbing her horn.

“Next time, try and stop me.”

“It isn’t her job to protect me,” said Sjdath, angrily, pushing Jack’s shoulder.

“Did you just touch me?” asked Jack.

“What, you’re going to blow me apart? Tear off my limbs? Do it now- -because you know there’s no way I can pay that money back.”

“We have the scrap we just got.”

“Which is completely useless!” whispered Sjdath. “There’s no technology in it! The metal is at most twenty, thirty K, and you know it!”

“I just saved your life.”

“Da, and now you’re yelling at the pony for not doing YOUR OWN JOB.” Sjdath stepped back, putting her claw on her head and swearing in a combination of languages. “This is your fault, you know that, right?”

“My fault?”

“You made me come to this place with that- -that blue psychopath!”

“Me? You’re the one who didn’t fill up the fuel. But, hey. If you want, I can go right back to Aria and take her offer.”

Sjdath growled and moaned. She sulked for a moment, and then turned to Jack. “You also called me fugly.”

“You kind of are.”

“Well, I don’t like you pointing it out.”

“It was pretty mean,” added Starlight. “It doesn’t matter if it’s true, you still shouldn’t have said it.”

“Yes- -hey!”

“That reminds me,” said Jack. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small box. She threw it to Starlight, who awkwardly caught it in her hooves.

“What is this?” she asked.

“Omnitool. It’s sized for a volus, but I’m pretty sure it will fit you.”

“For- -for me?”

“Is something wrong with that?”

“Nopony- -I mean, nobody’s ever given me anything.”

“Well, I figured you might need it to,” she turned to Sjdath. “CALL FOR HELP.”

“Shut it. I was suffocating. And, just so you are aware, I AM still drowning in my own fluids. I need to get back to Fenok. Now.”

“Fine. Starlight can buy the fuel.”

“Do NOT let the horse buy the fuel!”

“Not a horse!” cried Starlight, perhaps too loudly as Sjdath shambled off into the facility.

“We should probably follow her…wait a second.” Jack stretched out her left hand, and it flashed orange instead of its normal blue, forming the body of her own omnitool. “Zedok,” she said. “What is it?”

“We have a problem,” whispered Zedok, her voice transmitted by the device.

“We have lots of problems at this point,” said Jack. “So what else is new?”

“I just ran into a pair of ponies.”

Jack fell silent, and Starlight’s eyes widened. The two looked at each other for a moment.

“You still there, Jack?”

“Yeah,” said Jack. “Where are they now?”

“Gozu sector,” said Zedok. “I’m tailing them. I think they’re trying to find Aria. They’re dressed up all official. One of them said that they were from the navy, whatever that means. One of them’s a biotic, too.”

“You talked to them?”

“Yeah, and they’re not happy about us taking stuff out of that ship. I think they’re looking to get it back. Do you want me to take them out?”

“No,” said Jack. “Keep following them, but keep back. And I mean WAY back.”

“Right. But if they try anything, I’m offing them.”

“We’re already in a mess, Zed. Don’t make this worse.”

With that, Jack clicked off her omintool and looked down at Starlight.

“Ponies,” said Starlight. “They’ve come looking for me.”

“Probably,” said Jack, walking forward quickly. Starlight trotted behind her. “But Omega is a big place. If Zed can keep following them, we can just make sure we’re in a different place until the ship is refueled.”

“But they’re my people!” said Starlight. “What if…what if they can help me? I’ve never met another pony before. What if they’re just trying to rescue me?”

“Starlight,” said Jack, calmly. “Think about it. Who do you think wired you into that ship?”

Images flashed through Starlight’s mind, and she froze. “They…they did. The others.” She looked up at Jack. “They’re…they’re coming to take me back, aren’t they?”

“I don’t know.”

Chapter 7: Murderer

The pipe system overhead lurched, and then extended from their housings toward the corresponding ports on Armchair’s surface. Starlight watched, ensuring that they moved correctly as she had been instructed. There was not really much to watch, though; she assumed that this process was normally automatic. The pipes slid into their ports, and there was a metallic clunking sound as the pipes meshed to Armchair’s surface, locking them into place. Within seconds, the fuel began to pour in.

Starlight understood that this was a terribly mundane task. Still, she felt slightly proud of herself. She had been the one to take the money to the fuel dealer- -an unpleasant creature called a volus- -stored on a datapad. She suspected that Jack had been watching her, somehow, form a distance, but otherwise she had for the first time in her life performed a task on her own. Now, fuel was pouring into their ship, and she was actually helping.

“Hey, Armchair?” she said, after a moment.

“Yes?” said Armchair, his voice projecting into the small loading bay that surrounded the docking port.

“Weird question…does fuel have a taste?”

“Yes.”

“Really? Like what?”

“Grape.”

Starlight blinked. “Really?”

“Yes. We are a machine. We do not have a true sense of taste. As such, we ‘taste’ in response to our program. We possess a subroutine that allows us to taste artificial grape.”

“Just artificial grape?”

“Yes. Everything tastes like grape to us. Fuel. Water. Air. In fact, you even taste like grape. You all taste like grape to us.”

“That’s kind of weird. You know that, right?”

“We do. We are fortunate, however, to have you. You are the first organic we have encountered who actually looks mildly grape flavored.”

“Oh. I guess I kind of do.” Starlight paused. “If I look grape flavored, what flavor does Sjdath look like?”

Before Armchair could answer, his door hissed open. The platform vibrated heavily, and then Fenok stepped out.

“Doctor Fenok!” called Starlight.

“Ah, Starlight,” he said, smiling- -or grimacing; it was difficult to tell.

“How is Sjdath doing?”

“Sjdath? Better, really. Of course, she’sa vorcha. Their bodies regenerate pretty fast. But her lungs were pretty bad, and she’s not nearly as young as she used to be. It’ll take a few days for her to be one hundred percent.”

“Just by…just by breathing air?”

“Oxygen actually pretty toxic. Her body doesn’t have the enzymes necessary to handle it.”

“Oh.” Starlight’s face fell. She knew that, logically, there was nothing she could have done. She was not a powerful mage like Jack, or a fighter, despite what Jack told her. Still, she could not help but blame herself.

Fenok looked down at a number of crates that were sitting outside the ship and sighed. “Great. I suppose since I’m the krogan, I’ll have to load these.”

“Do you need help?”

“No,” sighed Fenok, picking up one of the boxes. “I’m krogan, so I’m strong. I’m just not as young as I used to be.”

“How old are you? Or- -is that rude?”

“It would be if I was human. Krogan don’t age, really. We just get, well, jaded I guess. I’m…oh, great, how long has it been…two hundred, maybe two hundred and fifty? You kind of lose track after the first century.”

Starlight’s eyes widened. “So you’re younger than Aria?”

“Aria isn’t THAT old. Asari are like trees. Except instead of rings, they’ve got…well, you know…bust sizes.”

“I could summon Arachne to help you,” suggested Armchair.

“What, you think he’s stronger than me?” said Fenok, setting the first crate into the atrium and going for the second.

“He is stronger than you. By muscle mass and density, Arachne is at least four times stronger. And triple your size.”

“Yeah, and some ignorant baterian walks in and sees him…what do you think he’s going to think?”

“We cannot extrapolate that information. We operate under the assumption that organics lack the capacity to think.”

“Sometimes, I’d believe that,” muttered Fenok.

“Hey!” called a voice from the hallway leading to the docking area. It was followed by running footsteps, and Zedok appeared.

“There you are,” said Fenok. “Just in time to help me move the last set.”

“Crap,” swore Zedok.

“Language!”

“Come on, dad!”

“I see you got the supplies,” said Fenok. “Did you have the chocolates sent, too?”

Zedok rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I did.”

“The ones with raspberry filling? And with the chocolate made just how I told you?”

“Yes, exactly like you wrote down.”

“Chocolates?” said Starlight, confused.

“Oh, hey Starlight,” said Zedok.

“Yes. The key is in the milk. Ninety percent earth-milk, whatever that comes from, and ten percent turian milk.”

Starlight paused, thinking. “Wait a minute. Aren’t turians the bird people? How exactly do you milk one?”

Zedok’s eyes widened and she shuddered. “Eew eew eew! Please tell me that’s not what turian milk actually IS!”

“Of course not,” said Fenok, loading another crate. “Milk from turians tastes terrible. They make it from the pupal secretions of a large maggot.”

Zedok looked extremely nauseous. Starlight just felt hungry. She realized that she had never eaten. Ever.

They spent the next several minutes loading the remaining crates. Zedok was surprisingly strong for her size, but Starlight discovered that she herself was terribly weak. The best she could do was push the crates along the floor, and only then with a great deal of effort that resulted in rapid fatigue. According to Fenok, it was because she had lost a great deal of muscle tone while she had been in containment.

Once they had finally loaded the crates into Armchair, they sat down, waiting for the others. They talked a little, mostly about either complex medical stories from Fenok that usually involved disembowelment, or Zedok talking endlessly about the armor and weapons she had seen in the upper levels that she wished she was able to afford. Starlight would sometimes chime in, mostly with questions. The world was so new and strange to her, but they both did their best to try to explain what everything meant.

In time, Jack appeared from the shadows of one of the feeder hallways. She looked as unperturbed as ever.

“Jack!” said Zedok, standing up. “You’ll never guess who I saw today!”

“Jeff Moreu?”

“I don’t know who that is. But no! I saw Aria!”

“Wait, what?!” said Fenok. “You didn’t tell me that!”

“Yeah, and she totally threw a biotic charge at my head, but I managed to dodge it! You should have seen it. I mean, wow, she’s got to be the most powerful biotic asari I’ve ever seen- -she’s got nothing on you, of course. I mean, in a fight, you would totally win- -”

“Zedok,” said Jack, calmly. “Don’t mess with Aria. She’s not a nice person.”

“She really isn’t,” said Starlight. “I don’t like her.”

“Where’s the jellyfish?” asked Jack.

Zedok checked her omnitool. “Well, the Blasto movie should have just ended. Of course, knowing him, he’s probably sitting through the credits. Cheering. Maybe a few more minutes?”

Jack looked over her shoulder, almost ignoring Zedok.

“What’s wrong?” asked Starlight.

“Nothing,” replied Jack. She turned around and began to walk toward the main exit hallway.

“Jack?” said Zedok. She jumped down off the stack of crate that she was sitting on and started to follow Jack. Starlight did the same, concerned. Something was wrong.

Jack ignored them, instead walking slowly into the long hallway, peering down each intersection. Starlight realized that there was far less light than there should have been; someone had deactivated most of the lights.

“Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” asked Starlight.

Jack did not answer. Instead, she lifted her goggles and revealed her almost luminescent eyes. For a moment, she peered into the darkness. Then she sighed.

“Aw, shit.”

Before Starlight knew what was happening, she felt a hand grab her by the scruff of her neck. Jack pulled her down a side alley, pushing Zedok along with her. Starlight was about to protest- -being pulled like that hurt- -but even as she cried out in surprise, she felt the air distort beside her as the bullets blew past.

In what felt like an instant, Starlight found herself thrown onto the dirty floor.

“Hey!” cried Zedok, who had nearly been pushed off balance. Then she, too, heard the sound of the automatic weapons spraying bullets toward them and her eyes widened. “What- -what’s happening?!”

“Aria’s soldiers,” said Jack, pulling her goggles down to her neck.

“Aria- -but you said we could trust her!” cried Starlight.

“Oh, we can. The soldiers, not so much. Somebody’s breaking Omega’s one rule right now.”

“Don’t worry,” said Zedok, stepping forward. “I’ve got this.”

She put her hands together and grimaced, grunting with strain as blue energy began to flow out of her palms. With a great deal of effort, Zedok forced the blue energy into a single point which resolved into a tiny dark sphere. Then, with a loud scream, she threw it around the corner.

There were shouts of surprise from the other side of the hallway, and Zedok stepped out.

“Zedok!” cried Starlight.

“Don’t worry. It’s not a problem now.”

Jack followed her, and Starlight more hesitantly. Ahead of them, they could now see the group of soldiers- - mostly krogan, but with several baterians and vorcha- -most of whom who were now floating helplessly around the black sphere.

“A singularity?” said Jack. “Impressive.”

“Thanks.” Zedok smiled for a moment, proud of herself- -until the krogan in the group began to break free of the sphere’s influence and pull their way back down to the floor. “Oh crap…”

“The thing about a singularity is that it’s all about concentration,” said Jack. She extended her right hand and it flashed blue. There was an explosion of energy and sound as the metal of the hall distorted and began to rend from the gravitational force. Jack’s singularity was so powerful that even digging her heels into the floor, Starlight felt herself being pulled toward the swirling black vortex.

The krogan soldiers, now free of Zedok’s singularity, began to fire. Zedok grabbed Starlight and ducked, but Jack did not react. Their bullets never reached her; instead, they curved into her gravitational disturbance.

Then, with a swift and fluid motion, Jack tossed the singularity. The soldiers it hit first imploded, their bodies pulled apart by the gravitational strain. The remainder were lifted into the air, their armor visibly being corroded by the biotic energy.

“You might want to get to cover,” said Jack, walking back behind the intersection wall that they had been hiding behind before. Starlight followed, dragging the wide-eyed Zedok with her.

Almost as soon as they were in cover, the singularity detonated. The force was enough to knock Starlight to her knees, and she cried out as she fell, covering her head. As she did, she looked to Jack- -and saw for the woman smiling for the first time. Starlight had never seen anything so terrifying.

“Do you still have that gun?” said Jack.

“Y…yeah,” said Zedok, still awestruck. She pulled it out and tried to give it to Jack.

“No. You use that one. Protect Starlight. They’re going to come in in three directions. I’ll take the front.”

“I have a shield generator,” said Zedok, pointing to a device on her belt. “I can- -A”

“Take. The. REAR.”

“You can’t fight them alone!”

“Do you know who I am? Even then, I’m not going to have to. Si’y is inbound.”

“What?”

The question answered itself in the form of a hail of bullets- -not suppression fire toward Jack, but from the far end of the hallway where Armchair was still refueling.

“Did it fire five shots or six?!” cried an overly excited voice. “This one does not know! It depleted its funds on a self-cooling thermal dissipation coil anyway!”

Si’y floated into view. He was not even trying to dodge the incoming bullets; instead, they were repelled off the force field that surrounded his body. He simply floated forward, two of his tentacles on an assault rifle, two on a shotgun, and a pistol in each of the remaining two.

“Si’y, what took so long?” cried Jack as he floated past.

“The merchant outside the movie was selling working replicas of Blasto’s actual pistol!” said Si’y, shouting over the sound of his nearly continuous fire. He held up one of the pistols. “This one had no money, though, and had to…get her to lower the price.”

“It’s probably volus knockoff crap,” said Jack, stepping out into the fire and igniting her entire body with biotic shielding. “Let’s see if it holds up.”

“Cover the rear,” said Zedok under her breath. “Yeah right. I’ll cover your rear.” Ignoring Jack’s orders, she leaned over the edge of the hallway and fired several shots at the group before hurling another biotic charge at her enemies.

Starlight was left with nothing to do except cower, terrified. Everything was loud and terrifying, and she felt so powerless. She was not like the others; she did not have their power. She was far less than they were, and it felt terrible.

Then she heard a sound. She looked up into the darkness of the feeder hallway and, on the far end, saw an elevator land into the platform. The door opened, and a number of faceless, armored krogan and baterian soldiers rushed out.

“Zedok!” cried Starlight. It was too late, though. They had already drawn their rifles, and they were pointing them not at Starlight but at Zedok, whose back was still turned. “NO!”

Starlight panicked. She felt her horn tingle with energy, and without even thinking she fired a beam of energy at the soldiers. It narrowed and slashed across them, and all at once they stopped. For just a moment, Starlight saw how confused they looked- -and then watched as they fell, their bodies splitting in half from Starlight’s cut, their innards falling out of their bisected bodies in a rush of yellow and red fluid.

“What the- -” Zedok turned, and her eyes widened. She immediately vomited on the floor at the sight of the mutilated corpses, some still twitching and struggling, not yet realizing that they were dead.

“I…I didn’t mean to,” said Starlight, backing away from the blood that was creeping across the floor. “I just…they were going…they were going to hurt you and…and…”

She could not continue speaking. She felt herself on the verge of tears. All she could do was collapse and shiver.

From Armchair’s direction, a pair of floating holographic spheres rushed forward, attacking the various enemies that were still alive.

“Do I have to do everything?” called Sjdath. “Get back to the ship, you idiots!”

Jack and Si’y began to fall back, taking advantage of the cover provided by the spheres.

“Come on,” said Jack. “You need to…oh…” she paused for a moment, looking at the carnage that Starlight had created.

By this time, everything seemed distant to Starlight. The world seemed to be fading, to be drifting away into a blurry, muted mess. She could hear yelling, gunfire, and explosions, but all she wanted was to go back to what she had been, to cease to exist. She just could not imagine living with what she had done.

Eventually, she felt herself being pulled. Distantly, she saw the explosion of biotic energy and armored soldiers bursting into flame from a beam of orange light. She heard screaming and yelling, but all of it just seemed so irrelevant.

Then the door closed, and the ground hummed as Armchair disconnected from Omega and into the cold of space.

Chapter 8: The Krogan and the Human

It took time for Starlight to regain her composure. Being back on Armchair, with his windows and humming engines, was somehow relaxing. Every time she thought about what she had done, though, she would freeze. Sometimes she would just stare out a window for several minutes. Other times she would collapse on the floor or just cry.

Eventually, though, she found herself back in the medical bay, lying on a table while Fenok worked.

“Of course,” said Fenok, who had been periodically babbling about things since Starlight had walked in. “Leave it to Jack to get…this. ‘Right size’ she says. Yes, it’s small, but omnitool’s don’t even work that way!”

“Will it still work?” said Starlight, only half paying attention. She understood that Fenok was working on the gift that Jack had purchased for her.

“Volus neural architecture is actually pretty close to yours, so yes. Probably. I just need to re-coat it.” He stepped back from the machine he was using to adjust the device, which to Starlight looked something like a bean surrounded by a number of flat, almost translucent fins attached by long, narrow wires. “Hold out your arm.”

“It’s called a forleg on ponies,” said Starlight, sitting up and extending the appendage in question.

“Really? I guess that makes sense.” He pulled up an industrial grade stool and took Starlight’s foreleg in his scaly, three-fingered hands. “Okay…” He reached down to a table and removed a large scalpel.

“WHAT are you doing?!” cried Starlight, pulling back her hoof sharply.

“Installing the omnitool. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“But that’s a knife!”

“Well, yes. Oh.” He smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll inject the actual tool with a needle. See?” He reached down and picked up the device, holding it in front of Starlight’s face. She gaped at it; it was hardly a “needle” so much as a nearly inch-wide bore spike. “It’s not even that big. You’ll hardly even feel it.”

“Are you insane? How would I not feel THAT? Can’t- -can’t I just get an external one, like Sjdath has?”

Fenok sighed. “The only reason hers is on the outside is…well…have you ever seen what the vorcha immune system does to implants? It’s not pretty. But if you actually take that thing off her- -and I really, really don’t recommend it. It’s gross- -her entire left arm is adapted to control it. You don’t do that. At least I don’t suspect you do. It has to be linked to the nervous system.”

“But…won’t that hurt?”

“I’ve done this surgery hundreds of times. Usually on children. I installed Zedok’s. And Jack’s. Although Jack did punch me in the face. Have you ever gotten punched by a biotic? I used to be pretty…”

“She…she made you look like this?”

Fenok’s eyes narrowed. “That was a joke.”

“Oh.”

He held out his hand. “Arm?”

Shaking, Starlight reached out.

“You’re probably going to want to look away for this part.”

Starlight did, looking at a shelf of supplies on the wall. She heard the sound of Fenok picking up his tools, and then felt a slight pain in her foreleg. She closed her eyes and waited for the surgery to be done.

“This isn’t even that bad,” said Fenok. “Do you know how we get them on Tuchanka? You stick your hand in the ‘pain hole’. Omnitool, total set of vaccinations, nanotech enhancements, all in one dose. Not fun. Of course, you are a bit of a special case.”

“Really?”

“The only person I’ve ever seen with this much metal in her body is Jack. I don’t know what Cerberus did to her, but they sure did a lot of it. The pain she must be in every second…”

“Cerberus?” said Starlight. “Like…the dog?”

“It’s an organization,” said Fenok, putting down his scalpel and picking up the needle. “Some human society. They specialize in…well, let’s just say they’re not exactly ethical.”

“And they did something to Jack?”

“More than just something.”

“What did they do?”

Fenok shook his head. “I know what Jack told me, but I don’t think it’s my place to be telling you. If you want to know, you have to ask her. But from what I’ve seen…she has a lot of scars, Starlight. Not just from fighting. Most of them are surgical. But the worst are in her mind. She’s a lot like you, kind of.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know who did this to you,” said Fenok. “But they did it for a reason. As for Jack…Cerberus made her to kill.”

“Killing…” said Starlight.

“This next part is going to hurt. A lot. On the count of three. One- -”

“EEP!” cried Starlight, pulling her foreleg back as her arm spasmed in immense pain. “I thought you said on three!”

“I lied,” said Fenok, putting his bloody tools on a tray. He stood up and took them over to the autoclave. “By the way, you’re done.”

Starlight looked down at her hoof. It did not look any different from before. “There’s not even a scar,” she said, turning it over and looking at it.

“Of course not. Medigel is a great thing. Weird that it was the humans that invented it. Go ahead. Try it out.”

“How?”

“It’s a part of you. Like moving a leg. Just…do it.”

Starlight did not understand, but she tried anyway. She stretched out her foreleg and, in a flash, an assembly of orange holograms formed around it.

“Neat,” said Starlight.

“We all have one. Well…no. Si’y doesn’t, but he has something similar in that suit he always wears. And Armchair doesn’t need one. Arachne…well…I don’t even know.”

“Thank you,” said Starlight, closing the device.

“Yeah, it’s just my job.”

Starlight jumped down from the table and began to walk toward the door, but stopped. “Doctor Fenok?” she asked, turning back.

“Yeah?”

“Have you…have you ever killed anybody?”

Fenok froze and dropped the needle of the device he was holding. It clattered to the ground, but he just sighed. “This is about what happened back there, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“I knew something was bothering you. More than just the omnitool.”

“I…I killed them, Fenok. I just…killed them. It was so easy. They were just there, and then I…I made them go away. Those were people, Fenok.”

Fenok sat down on his stool. “The answer is yes,” he said.

“You did? Who?”

“One of my best friends, actually. It was back when we were kids on Tuchanka. We got into an argument and…we fought. You know, I don’t even know what the argument was about.”

“I’m sorry,” said Starlight. “At least…at least I didn’t know any of the ones I…I…”

“It doesn’t matter,” snapped Fenok. “A person isn’t any less of a person because you don’t know him. A death isn’t any less of a death if they were soldiers and expecting it. You still killed them. And I still killed Enzres.”

“How do you live with it?” said Starlight. “I…every time I close my eyes, I see them. I see the bodies. I did that. I DID THAT. What can I do?”

“I don’t know,” said Fenok. “That’s not a question I can answer for you.”

“What did you do?”

“I left Tuchanka, and never picked up a gun again. I became a doctor. I’ve saved lives…but sometimes I still remember. I remember what I was, and what we are.” He looked Starlight in the eyes. “Do you know what Tuchanka looks like, Star?”

“No. I don’t even know what Equestria Prime looks like. Is it pretty?”

“No. It’s a burnt out, radioactive wasteland. A planet covered in the ruins of once-great cities that have stood empty for thousands of years. Do you know why they’re like that?”

“No.”

“Because of us. Because of the krogan. Because of our wars. Because we can’t stop killing. You know how I said I killed my friend? Do you know how my clan reacted to it?”

“They forced you off the planet.”

“No. They cheered me on. They cheered me on while I stabbed my best friend. Starlight…” he let out a long groan. “Please. You have to understand, see what I do. My people, we destroyed ourselves. It’s a parable. War destroyed our planet. When we were given a chance to leave, what did we do? We fought everyone else in the galaxy. And they won. They didn’t just win, they crushed us, destroyed our race. Because of our own failures. Don’t you understand?”

“I’m trying,” said Starlight.

“I have always held out hope, though. Always. A belief that the krogan were moving forward. My mentor, he believed the same thing. Or I thought I did. Except where I saw the krogan evolving into more than just killing machines, Okeer just wanted us to return to some mythical glory age of conquest. He was a fool. But someone has to take the first step. One of us has to put down our guns, to see what’s wrong with this.”

“But what if someone was in danger? Jack says I have to protect my friends. That’s all I was trying to do. What if it was Zedok who was in danger? What if you were in my place?”

“I would find another way.”

“What if you couldn’t?”

“I would. I always would.”

“I don’t share your optimism.”

“Well, it’s not my choice to make for you. Like I said. The choice isn’t an easy one. If I could, I would take you someplace where there isn’t so much violence. But that’s all this galaxy seems to have.”

“And if I decide that I should kill?”

Fenok put his oversized hand on Starlight’s small pony shoulder. “You’re not a murderer. Not like Jack, or Sjdath, or Si’y. Starlight, you have a good heart. So you either put that light out, like they did, or every time you kill it will cut into your soul. Like it is now.”

Starlight looked up at him, and she knew that he was right.

Later, in the dead of night, Starlight awoke screaming. She panicked for a moment, feeling the blackness closing in around her, not understanding where she was or even what she was, still reeling from dreams that she could remember so very vividly- -dreams, she knew, that were far more than simple images.

Then the room slowly came into focus, and she remembered where she was and what had happened. The others had been kind enough to give her space in a storeroom. All around her were crates, cylinders and various fragments of equipment that had been stored haphazardly but at least moved aside part of the way to give Starlight a mostly clear space in the middle of the floor to sleep. They had even given her a blanket and a makeshift bed that consisted really of little more than a crate lid filled with small fragments of foam, but she was grateful none the less. It was the only bed she could remember ever having.

Starlight wiped the cold sweat away from her forehead, feeling the metal ports in her skull brush against her foreleg. She looked to her right, where the wall was entirely an enormous, slightly curving window. The sight of the stars provided what little light there was in the large room, and seeing them was calming. The peace they brought her made Starlight wonder if that was why her parents had named her after their glow.

“Is everything all right, Starlight Glimmer?” asked Armchair, his disembodied voice lowered slightly for the night cycle.

“Yeah,” said Starlight. “Just another nightmare.” She looked back out the window, and then into the darkness of the storage room. “Armchair, are we being followed?”

“We are not detecting the signal of any mass cores within our immediate vicinity,” said Armchair. “Nor are we detecting any recent ionization trails of any known ship make or type. We are quite alone. Relatively speaking.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know how that feels.”

Starlight stood up, putting the blanket back into her box. She stretched, feeling the metal protrusions on her spine clicking together. Trying to find a comfortable position with that much metal in her body was almost impossible, but she knew that with her dreams, there was no way she would be sleeping.

“I’m going for a walk,” she said, perhaps more to herself than to the living ship that surrounded her. She approached her door and pushed her hoof against the control, causing it to hiss open.

The hallway outside was just as dark as the rest of the ship. From what Starlight understood, the lights were dimmed to replicate “night” every fifteen hours. She did not see the need for it, but apparently it was important for the biology of several of the crew members, most notably Si’y and Jack. Starlight liked it though. Armchair had an overabundance of windows, and with no strong light for millions of miles, the galaxy outside looked like a soup of lights and colors that were normally invisible with the lights on. They filled the corridors with the most subtle and beautiful light, and when combined with the low, perpetual hum of Armchair’s engine, it was an extremely calming experience.

The only sound as Starlight moved through the ship was the sound of her hoofsteps, whether they were clicking on the hard, uneven surface of the actual corridors or clanking all-too loudly on the catwalks set up to cover areas where the floor curved or gave out entirely.

At one particular intersection, however, Starlight suddenly felt her heart leap into her chest. She had been traveling down a perpendicular hallway that went into the darker innards of the ship when something crossed her path. She had simply been walking when she heard something. She paused, and then something immensely large lumbered silently across an intersection. In the darkness, Starlight saw at best a silhouette: an enormous creature that stood upon four legs- -although Starlight somehow knew that it had a lot more than that- -slowly drifting down the empty hallway.

Starlight could do nothing but freeze. She stared up wide eyed at it and, for just a moment, it stopped. The creature looked down at her with numerous glowing, white eyes, and released a low and almost musical wail. Then, slowly, it turned back to what it had been doing and started walking away.

Clutching her chest and panting in fear, Starlight fell against a wall. “Arm- -Armchair!” she whispered. “There- -there’s something on the ship!”

“I am aware of that,” said Armchair, as cheerful as ever.

“What- -what is that thing?!”

“Arachne is extremely sensitive to normal levels of light,” explained Armchair. “As such, he only leaves our ventilation system during the night-cycle.”

“That- -THAT’s Arachne?!”

“Yes. It is a pun. He was our very first friend when we were separated from the main geth process. Our relationship with him is the only one that we consider symbiotic rather than strictly parasitic.”

“Oh…okay.”

“Is something wrong, Starlight Glimmer?”

“Just…can you tell me where Jack’s room is?”

“Yes. Her quarters are in a service closet near our central processor.”

“Can you…I don’t mean to bother her this late, but can you take me to her?”

“No. We do not at present have enough geth to spawn an independent, internal body. However, Arachne can show you the way.”

Starlight never saw Arachne clearly, but whatever he was, he eventually lead her high into the ship. The hallways toward the top were narrow, more like thin ventilation ducts populated mostly by fiberoptic cables than true corridors. Whoever had set up the catwalks- -presumably Sjdath- -had not bothered to place full walks this high up; instead, the walking surface consisted of thin metal grates without railings. Not that railings mattered much to Starlight anyway; she had no appendage to hold onto them while walking.

Arachne left quickly, retreating into a ventilation channel that should have been far too narrow for something of his size, but Starlight continued until she eventually reached a small open area with a low ceiling. The humming of the ship was different here; instead of the hum of the engine, all Starlight could hear was something like the sound of liquid flowing. The entire room was flooded in reddish light and oddly cold.

There was not much in the way of furniture, but Starlight could definitely tell that someone was living there. The floor was clean, but there were a few items strewn across it, mainly a pair of boots and a crumpled pair of trousers. A few hangers had been put on a conduit against one wall; one held a dark blue pressure suit, while the other supported an extremely dusty and torn leather jacket. A rickety desk against one wall had several clips of ammunition and a pistol on top of it and a shotgun leaning against it.

On the far wall was a bed, and from the lump in it, Starlight knew that Jack was asleep.

“Jack?” she said, softly, walking toward the lump.

“Hmmf…” moaned Jack. “Shepard…no…”

“Jack?” said Starlight again. She approached the side of the bed and reached out, shaking Jack slightly. “Jack?”

That, apparently, caused Jack to wake up- -and violently. She bolted upright, her silver eyes wild and more panicked than Starlight had ever seen any living thing. A blue blast of energy shot toward Starlight, and Starlight cried out as her horn ignited with energy, forming a bubble around her.

The blast hit with tremendous force, pulling Starlight off the ground and sending her bubble rolling across the room with her inside it until she slammed against the far wall, dizzy and confused.

“Star…Starlight?” said Jack, groggy and angry. “What- -what the hell?! Are you insane?!”

“No,” said Starlight, dropping her shield bubble while still not being fully aware of how she had summoned it.

Jack sighed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” said Starlight. “Just surprised.”

“Well, then, congratulations. You are the second person in to have ever woken me up like that and survived. And the other one was a cyborg.”

“Please refrain from using biotics near my primary cooling manifold,” said Armchair softly.

“Shut it, Armchair.” Jack rubbed her face. “Oh…what time is it?”

“I’m sorry,” said Starlight. “This was a bad idea. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

Jack sighed. “Well, I’m awake now. Might as well talk.”

She threw back the blanket that was still covering her and shifted in her bed, pulling her legs out and putting them over the edge of the bed so that she was sitting on its edge. The metal soles of her feet clicked loudly against the floor, and the visible mechanical elements that allowed them to move adjusted to the new position with an almost imperceptible robotic whirring.

Starlight’s eyes widened. “Jack, your legs!”

Jack looked down at the reflective metal that made up everything from her upper thigh downward. “Oh, yeah,” she said nonchalantly. “Forgot you didn’t know. They’re prosthetic.”

“What- -what happened to you?” said Starlight, crossing the room, unable to take her eyes of Jack’s robotic legs.

“The Reapers happened,” said Jack, darkly. “I was on the front lines on Earth during the final battle. They took my legs.” She looked down at the floor. “They took a lot from me that day.” She looked up at Starlight, her eyes reflecting the red ambient light of the room. “Now what’s up?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been having dreams.”

“About the krogan you killed? You realize they deserved it, right?”

“No. They didn’t.” Starlight shook her head. “But it’s not that. They’re different dreams. Older ones.”

“About what.”

“I’m…not sure. There’s a light, and I’m being held down. Talking, and then something mechanical. Something coming toward me, and I can’t get away. And…well…” she put her hoof against the ports in her head. “They…they give me these. And I feel every inch of that drill cutting me, but I can’t wake up. Not until…the dream finishes somewhere else. Trapped in liquid. Forced under. Crying, screaming, but they just keep going. And I drown.”

She looked down at the floor, ashamed. “I know, it stupid. I probably sound like a whining little filly…but if felt so real. It hurt so much.”

Jack seemed to contemplate for a moment, and then her expression softened just slightly. “I’m going to say something, but you’re not going to like it.”

“What?” Starlight fully expected to be chastised for her foolishness, to be driven out.

“I don’t think those are dreams. Not in the way normal people have them, anyway. I think those are memories. Memories of what they did to you.”

“Memories?” Starlight shivered. That idea somehow made those dreams far more terrifying. “How would you know that?”

“Because I have the same dreams. Every night. Every goddamn night.”

“You- -you do?”

Jack nodded. She turned her head and gestured to a device surrounding the edge of her right ear. “You see this? It’s not jewelry. It goes into my brain. And it isn’t the only thing that does.”

“What did they do to you, Jack?”

Jack paused and looked down at Starlight. “What they did to me doesn’t matter. Not the specifics, anyway. They hurt me, though. Since the day I was born. Every day. Every single day. Torture, pure and simple. The made me. They used me. The main theme in my life, really.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? Were you the one cutting me open just to see how much pain I could take, or making me murder children my own age for heroin?” Jack sighed and put her head in her hands. “I’m sorry. You didn’t need to hear that.”

“I don’t really know what to say,” protested Starlight. “I couldn’t possibly understand what that is like.”

“Couldn’t you?” said Jack, looking up. “You’re probably the only person I’ve ever met who CAN understand what they did to me. Because they did it to you, too. Not the same people, but the same kind of people. Look at us.” She gestured to her heavily tattooed body and robotic legs, and at the metal on Starlight’s spine and ports in her head. “We could have been normal people. Normal people with normal lives.”

“We still can be,” said Starlight, putting her hoof on Jack’s metal knee.

“No,” said Jack. “It’s too late for me. I tried once. I really did. I fell in love with the only man who didn’t just use me and throw me away, who actually tried to help. I became a teacher.” She smiled- -not the cruel smile that Starlight had seen on Omega, but a real one. “Can you imagine? Me? A teacher? Helping young biotics learn to use their powers.”

“What happened?” asked Starlight, knowing the answer already.

“They died,” said Jack, darkly, her smile fading. “They all died that day. I couldn’t save them. All this power, and I couldn’t do a damn thing.” She chuckled humorlessly. “Sometimes I wonder if God hates me. How all those kids died, how Shepard died…and how I made it out in mostly one piece.” She looked up at Starlight. “I wasn’t made for that life, Starlight. It’s too late for me. But it isn’t for you. Shepard came too late to save me, but maybe I can save you. Or is that just wishful thinking?”

“I don’t know how much you can do,” said Starlight. “I’ve never known my homeworld. I am the only one of my kind in this whole galaxy, save for ones that I think are probably hunting me. The only pony.”

“I won’t let them take you,” said Jack. “I won’t let them do to you what they did to me.”

“Do you really think you can stop it?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t. But I can try.”

“You don’t need to do that,” said Starlight.

“I don’t need to do anything. I only do what I want to. And I want to stop you from turning into me.”

“Then what do you think about what I did? Back on Omega? Am I a monster?”

“You’ve been talking to Fenok, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

Jack leaned back, tilting her head toward the ceiling. “Look, Starlight. I enjoy killing. It’s the only thing I enjoy anymore, the only thing that gives me the tiniest spark of real emotion. But you’re not like me. And the galaxy isn’t a safe place. Sometimes, if you want to live, you have to kill. It’s just the way things work.”

“Does it have to work that way?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never looked for an alternative.”

“Is that why the others do it, too?”

Jack shook her head. “No…Si’y does what he does because thinks he’s in some weird Blasto fantasy, and Sjdath just has no regard for any life that’s not hers.”

“And Zedok?”

“I think she’s in the same boat you are right now. I’ve had to be a little harsher with her than you, though. She’s half krogan. You…I don’t get the feeling that you’re from a violent race.”

“I wouldn’t know. I hope not.”

The two sat in silence for a moment. Then Starlight looked up at Jack and smiled. “Thank you,” she said, turning toward the door. “You’ve been a big help.”

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my box. Every time I sleep, the dreams wake me up…but I still have to try.”

Jack grumbled for a moment, and then pushed herself backward against the wall. “You can stay here, if you want.”

“W- -what?”

“I’m not going to try anything,” said Jack. “I’ve been with a lot of aliens, but I draw the line at a pony. It’s just that…” she sighed. “The dreams are easier…if you’re not alone.”

“Really?” Starlight found herself turning around and moving toward Jack’s bed. She reached the edge, and then paused before stepping in. She turned around so that her back faced Jack’s chest, and the human pulled the blanket over them both before wrapping her arms around Starlight’s chest.

“If you get hands, though, or if you EVER tell the others I did this, I will personally break your horn off.”

Starlight may have murmured something in response, but before she could think of a concerted answer, she had already fallen asleep.

Chapter 9: Equipment

Breakfast time had rolled around again, and Roseluck yawned as she meandered slowly through the halls of the RENS Rainbow Dash. Having grown up in a nebula colony, she was used to the sometimes bizarre mechanics of sleeping in space, but it still made her feel strange. Somewhere, deep in her pony DNA, her body remembered Equestira Prime and Celestia’s golden sphere rising and setting on endless horizons each day.

The ship’s galley was adjacent to its dining room, a low-ceilinged, somewhat greasy room that smelled like decades of smelly cooking from back when the Rainbow Dash had been a freighter. Still, it was in its own way charming, even if the menu was somewhat monotonous.

She stepped through the gap that led into the room, and looked at the central table that filled most of the tiny space. Roseluck blinked, seeing that just about everypony was there- -including the captain.

“Oi, Captain?” she said, walking in. “You know you have your own dining room, right?”

“Yeah,” said Scootaloo, poking a rubbery rehydrated muffin with her hoof. “It smells like old cider and isn’t even big enough to fit me. I’d rather have my own bathroom.”

“I hear that,” said Roseluck, sitting down. “So, so many towel slaps…”

“It was just that ONE time!” protested Carrot Top, her mouth full of yellows that had formerly been some kind of greens. She grimaced. “Eew…this turian stuff tastes really bad. It also makes me really, really sick…and yet I’m still eating it…”

“Yeah,” said Roseluck, sticking her tongue out. She turned to the small window to the narrow galley. “So, chef?” she said. “What’s the special?”

There was a sound of crashing and things breaking, and then a pair of golden eyes looked over the edge of the counter. They went back down, and then the door opened as Muffins hauled an immense pot out of the kitchen, dragging it along the floor.

“Is that…soup?” said Roseluck, her eyes widening and her mouth instantly salivating.

“Yup,” said Muffins. She brought the pot over and ladled a heaping portion into Roseluck’s bowl.

“Wow, Muffins, I thought everything you made had- -”

“Fresh muffin soup!”

Roseluck looked down at the lumpy material in her bowl and saw the tiny muffins floating in the liquid. She immediately felt less hungry. “Oh,” she said. “Thank…you.”

“You could always have what I’m having,” said Carrot Top, pointing to her salad. “It’s…mostly edible.”

Almost as soon as she said it, a small root jumped over the edge of her bowl and began to scamper awkwardly across the table. Every pony stared at it as it made its escape, a bifurcated carrot pulling itself away from its imminent doom.

“That’s normal,” said Carrot. “They do that. I think it’s how they find a place to lay their eggs- -I mean seeds. Hold on.” She lifted her left hoof, and the alien omnitool sprung forth around it. A narrow beam of orange light shot across the table, striking the fleeing alien carrot and causing it to burst into flames. “Oops,” said Carrot. “I was trying for the fork.”

Fluttershy looked up from her muffin soup, and, spying the now struggling vegetable, rapidly scooped it up, crunching it between her unusually sharp teeth, greedily destroying it as it struggled to escape. The other ponies watched, disgusted, and Fluttershy seemed to notice. She smiled, the tuber’s violet, blood-like sap dripping down her chin. “I like it better when they struggle,” she explained. “But it’s just a plant. So this is okay.”

“Don’t Tartarans usually eat meat?” asked Roseluck. “Like, only meat?”

“Not from animals, no. That would just be wrong.”

“You know, you kind of weird me out,” said Carrot, another one of the ambulatory roots skewered on her omnitool fork. “I’ve always wondered, though. You’re, like, some big shot in Equestria. Famous naturalist, model, friends with the Fleet Commander and the Fourth Goddess. What did you do to get sent out here?”

“Well,” Fluttershy blushed. “I um….well…”

“What?” asked Roseluck.

“I don’t know if it’s appropriate to say with her here.”

They all looked to Scootaloo, and Scootaloo sighed. “I’m been briefed on your situation, Fluttershy. I know what you did…even if it is gross. You can tell them.”

“Oh. Okay.” Fluttershy sighed. “It’s kind of embarrassing but I…kind of…may have…bedded a member of the Apple clan.”

The entire group cried out in in surprise.

“You didn’t!” cried Roseluck. “One of the premier families in the Agriculture Ministry? As in, THE Apple clan?”

“The one that makes the apples for my apple muffins?”

“Those are apples?” said Scootaloo, lifting the top of her muffin and staring into it. “I thought they were nuts.”

“Please tell me it wasn’t the core family,” said Carrot. Fluttershy just nodded. Carrot’s eyes widened. “It wasn’t Applebloom, was it?”

“No,” snapped Scootaloo. “Applebloom isn’t into that kind of thing.”

“Wait,” said Carrot. “You know APPLEBLOOM too? How well connected are you, Captain?”

“It wasn’t Applebloom,” said Applejack. “And I’m not going to name any names. But I can tell you, I don’t have any regrets.”

“You know, if someone like me had done that, Clanlord Applejack herself would have shoved me into the sun,” said Carrot.

“It doesn’t matter much to me,” said Fluttershy, shrugging. “I really like this job. I mean, I DID get to meat real, live aliens!”

“Yeah,” said Roseluck. “I’d say this mission is pretty sweet.” She looked around, and then leaned in, whispering. “I just wish the food were a little less…muffiny. I’d eat Bengie’s kibble at this point…”

“You had better not,” growled Bengie, walking into the dining room. “Touch my food and I’ll tear off your…oh. Wait. You’re an earth pony. You have no secondary pony appenages that I can remove.”

“Har har,” said Roseluck.

Bengie looked around the room, something that was not terribly easy for her. Even as a biped diamond dog, she was barely much taller than a pony. “Hey, chief,” she said. “Is it a good idea to have all the ponies in one room right now? I mean, we’re supposed to be following that ship, aren’t we?”

“We are,” said Scootaloo. “They haven’t moved in days, though. Just sitting there. Are you sure these aren’t nuts?”

“So, what? We’re just holding position?”

“For now, yes.”

“And they can’t see us? I mean, I saw the scans of their ship. The thing is covered in windows. Like, a ridiculous number of windows.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Roseluck. “Our ship is forty seven meters on its longest dimension, and we’re sitting at a distance one hundred kilometers. They could look out the windows all day and never see anything more than a speck.”

“Weird,” said Bengie. She picked up a bowl and walked over to the kibble dispenser.

“Muffin?” said Muffins, holding up a plate with a fresh muffin on it.

Bengie stared at it, and then at Muffins. “The last time you tried to feed me one of those things, it had chocolate chips in it.”

“But chocolate chips are so good!”

“Not for a dog! I almost died!”

“Oh. Oops.”

“Yeah, ‘oops’. Kill the diamond dog, it’s an ‘oops’. See you far you get without someone to keep this wreck moving. And pulling YOUR head out of the auxiliary plasma manifold!”

“It just smells so good!”

“You’ve got that right, at least.” Bengie put her bowl under the kibble dispenser and turned the handle. The tiny, reflective bits fell into her bowl. Instead of sitting, she leaned against the back wall and began to pluck the pieces out, crunching them one at a time.”

“It isn’t very marelike to use your hands,” said Roseluck, sarcastically. The sarcasm, of course, was lost on Bengie.

“I’m not a mare,” she snapped.

“Not this gain,” said Scootaloo, dropping her forehead against the table.

“And I’ll go over it again until you get it through your pony heads! I’m not a ‘mare’. I am a female diamond dog. Which means I’m- -”

“A bitch,” said Fluttershy.

“Yes! See! She gets it!”

“You certainly are,” said Carrot, suppressing laughter.

“I am,” said Bengie, not aware of the joke. “And if you keep calling you a mare, I will keelhaul all of you!”

“Nopony’s getting keelhauled,” sighed Scootaloo.

“I got keelhauled last week,” said Muffins.

“That was an accident! Nopony’s doing it on purpose! I’m the captain, I’m the only one who gets to keelhaul ponies!”

“Finally growing a pair, Captain?” said Bengie.

“A pair of WHAT?!”

The ponies all looked at each other awkwardly.

“Well,” said Fluttershy. “When a girl pony loves a boy pony a whole lot…”

“Please no,” said Scootaloo. She covered her face. “Please don’t explain this to me again…”

The other ponies fell silent for a moment, though, and Scootaloo thought they were finally starting to treat her like an adult instead of a child. She pulled back her hoofs, though, and realized that they were instead focused on the gap that lead to the dining room. Scootaloo turned her head, and saw a blue face looking into the room.

“Oh. I didn’t know anypony would be in here,” said Trixie. “I’ll come back later.”

“No, wait,” said Scootaloo. “You can come eat with us. It’s okay.”

“Really?” said Trixie.

“Yeah, sure.”

Trixie smiled somewhat nervously and entered the silent room, taking a seat next to Fluttershy.

“This is weird,” said Bengie. “I’ve eaten in the engine room, but never had a meal with the actual engine.”

“Yeah,” said Trixie, pulling down her hat to cover the ports in her forehead. “I’ve never had a meal with ponies either…” she cleared her throat. “What I mean is, the Great and Powerful Trixie has been so busy that she has not been able to share her company with the crew of her ship!”

“‘Your’ ship?” said Roseluck.

“Well, I’ve certainly spent more time on it than you have,” said Trixie, darkly. She looked around the room . “Hey, where’s Lyra?”

“Down in the hanger with that…thing,” said Carrot. “You know, doing the whole dark and brooding thing. You know…”

“What?”

“It’s actually kind of weird. I’ve never seen her eat before.”

“I’ve almost never seen her,” said Roseluck. “We’ve been on this ship for, what, six months? Seven? I’ve only seen her once or twice.”

“It must be hard for you two, being the only two unicorns on the ship,” said Fluttershy.

Scootaloo cringed hard at the statement. Even she knew that Cores were not real unicorns; equating the two was a huge insult. Even Trixie, though not the one insulted, seemed to recognize that fact as well.

“We’re probably better off,” said Scootaloo, trying to change the subject. “Lyra’s a bit…abrasive.”

“Yeah,” said Roseluck. “One of those career military types. I don’t even know what branch she’s from. But, you know her kind. Finish one mission, start the next one, over and over again.”

“Not like you,” said Carrot.

“Nope,” said Roseluck. “Just one mission for me. You already know what I’m going to do. Back to the Rose nebula. Get a house, a florist shop. Find myself a sexy stallion and pump out his adorable foals until the day my estrus stops. This whole space thing is fun, but not THAT fun.”

“Never took you for the housemare type,” said Carrot. “Me, I’m trying for a job in one of the agrotowers around Risa.”

“Wait, what?” said Roseluck, confused. “You’re a navy contractor already. Wouldn’t that be a huge cut?”

“A cut in what, pay? I don’t care about that. But, come on. Agro Research Center Six in the same system- -”

“And endless parties on the planet?” suggested Fluttershy.

“You know it. What about you, Flutterbutter?”

“Call me that again, and I will murder you,” said Fluttershy, smiling cheerfully. “I’m fine with this. Of course, my lifespan is much, much, MUCH longer than all yours. So I’ve got time.”

“Not me,” said Bengie. “This job, frankly, sucks hard. I mean, I graduated top of my class from SocketTurner Polytechnic! I should be leading a whole team on a Ship of the Line!”

“I just want to get back to my daughters,” said Muffins.

“Wait,” said Carrot. “You have daughters?”

Muffins smiled and nodded. “Yes. One of them is about your age.”

“How- -how old are you?!”

“Well, if you average her and the Captain’s age together…”

“Shut it,” said Scootaloo.

“We all know what SHE wants,” said Roseluck. “Captain at age twelve? How about Admiral by the time you can legally drink cider? At that rate, you’ll take the Fleet by the time Rainbow retires- -or before. Probably why she put you out here.”

“Buck you!”

The others laughed.

“You know what I want to do?” said Trixie, causing their laughter to fade quickly. She looked down at her muffin soup and smiled. “I’ve always had a dream since I was a little filly…”

The room fell into awkward silence, but Scootaloo could not help herself. “What?” she asked.

“I…I always wanted to be a showpony,” said Trixie. “I know, it sounds ridiculous. But…I used to dress up and pretend I was a magician. You know, standing on a stage. Spotlights, cheering, an audience clapping and roaring as I did amazing feats of magic.” She sighed and rubbed her hoof across the ports on her head that were barely concealed under her hat and where her hair had been cut mostly away to make her more readily compatible with the ship’s systems. “I would be so pretty…”

“You still can,” said Scootaloo.

Trixie’s eyes narrowed. “No,” she said, angrily. “No I can’t.” Her expression softened, and she looked away, forcing a smile. “No…the Great and Powerful Trixie is too important for the operations of this ship, even if she has been given…not terribly much to work with. The most powerful Core in all of Equestria will remain at her post for her remaining duration…until…they decommission me.”

The room fell into a long, awkward silence. Not one of them could look at Trixie, and she clutched her cape around her so tightly that the shape of her spinal implants began to show through it.

“This was a bad idea,” she said, standing up. “Thank you for the soup but…I have to go.”

Before anypony could stop her, Trixie rushed out of the room. Scootaloo briefly caught a glimpse of her eyes, seeing that she was crying.

The remaining ponies looked at each other.

“You really shouldn’t let her out of the core,” said Roseluck, at last. “I mean…Captain, I know that you’re trying to be nice, but it’s weird.”

“How is it ‘weird’ to let a member of my crew walk around the ship like the rest of us?”

“But she isn’t a part of your crew,” said Bengie. “She’s a piece of equipment. Core’s aren’t even real ponies!”

“But she seemed so sad…”

“Of course she seemed sad,” said Muffins. “We just sat here, talking about our futures like that. What kind of ponies are we?”

Scootaloo knew what she meant. She knew what happened to Cores. The drain of powering an entire ship every second of their lives took its toll on their bodies. Trixie was still comparatively young, but it was unlikely she would live to see thirty. She would either flatline in the tank, or lose power to the point where she was no longer worth keeping and had to be replaced.

“Do you ever think that maybe it’s wrong?” asked Scootaloo.

“Right and wrong doesn’t matter,” said Bengie. “Cores are what make space travel possible. You take them away, we have nothing.”

“Then we shouldn’t have space travel.”

“Yeah. Sure. Tell that to Lyra. Ask her about what the Crystal Empire did to her. Then call up your sister and tell her to mothball the fleet so that the engines can live normal lives because clearly we don’t need a defense system anymore.”

“You don’t need to be so harsh about it,” said Fluttershy.

“Yes I do. Come on. You know you’re all thinking it. You’re personifying the ship, Captain.”

“She’s…” started Roseluck. “Arrg…I don’t even know. She looks like a pony. She sounds like a pony, but…she’s a Core. I even consider her a friend but...she can’t…I don’t even know. It makes me so uncomfortable.”

“It’s my decision to make,” snapped Scootaloo. She pushed away her half eaten muffin. “If none of you can pony up and deal with her or my orders, then what are you even doing on my ship?!”

Scootaloo stormed off- -or stormed as well as a tiny filly even could. She left the room and rushed down the hall toward the engine room until she turned a corner and saw Trixie slowly walking back to her home.

“Trixie!” called Scootaloo.

“Captain,” said Trixie. “I’m on my way back right now. You can commence scanning once I get myself back in.”

“Wait a second,” said Scootaloo, somewhat out of breath. “Can I walk with you?”

“Um…sure. It’s your ship.”

They fell into step with each other. Scootaloo hardly even needed to rush to keep up with her; although Trixie was taller, having spent most of her life in a glass tube had left her muscles atrophied and slow.

“That other ship,” said Trixie, at last. “It has a Core on it, doesn’t it?”

“You can tell?”

“I can feel her,” said Trixie. “Even now. I don’t really know how to explain it. I think Cores can just sense other Cores, or something.”

“Yes,” said Scootaloo. “There is another Core over there.”

“And you’re trying to take her back.”

“Yes. That is our goal right now. To bring her back to Equestria.”

“I see,” said Trixie. “Another one, like me, and you want to take her back.”

“It’s not like that,” said Scootaloo, realizing that the conversation was backing her into a metaphorical corner. “She’s really important to Equestria. She belongs with us.”

“Like I’m important, you mean? The ship won’t run without me, after all, will it?”

“No, it won’t.”

Trixie sighed. “Look, Captain. You have no idea how grateful I am. And I’m not usually the type to show gratitude. I really am. Nopony has ever given me the chance to see the world like this. But you also have no idea what it’s like in there. How you stop being yourself, how much it hurts.”

“Cores aren’t supposed to feel pain.”

“Only because nopony ever asked one if they did or not. Trust me. It does. But I get that it’s what I’m for. It’s the only reason I exist.” She paused. “Scootaloo. Can I call you that?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“You might be the only pony who has ever tried to be my friend. So I’m going to be honest with you. Leave her. Just let her go. Don’t take her back to this.”

“Trixie…you know I can’t do that.”

“I know. I just thought I would at least try to ask.” She smiled. “Now, if you will excuse her, the Great and Powerful Trixie needs to go back to work.”

She left Scootaloo behind, walking back to the engine room alone. Scootaloo sighed, but she could not bring herself to do anything but watch her go.

Chapter 10: The Biotic

“No, no no!” yelled Jack, jumping down from the machine she was standing on. Starlight, panting, looked up.

“Are you kidding me?” she said. “I totally hit them!”

She pointed down range at the targets, which had not only been hit but had been burned completely through, their metal surface melting down to the floor of the cargo bay.

“So, what, you want a repeat of what happened on Omega? You can’t just shoot beams at everything!”

“Really? Because that’s what you do!”

“Oh yeah?” Jack lifted her hand, and fired a blue flash at Starlight. Starlight cast a shield spell around herself, but the bolt shifted in the air, curving around her in a wide arc until it had turned a full ninety degrees. Then it flew straight downrange, hitting the hole in the center of one of the targets and flying into the molten backing.

“Why am I ever going to need to do that? I’m never going to actually attack anybody!”

“It’s not about attacking, or even defending yourself! Look.” She pointed across the room at Si’y, who was watching from high a large piece of equipment, occasionally looking up from a Blasto comic book. “What if he came at you right now? Do you know what would happen? You would either freeze and die or turn him to dust! What if you wanted to do something ELSE?”

“This one does not like being brought into this argument!” called Si’y from his perch.

“Let me tell you a story. When I was your age, I got into a fight with an asari justicar. Do you know what that is?”

“How would I possibly know that?”

“A thousand-year old asari Matriarch. The best of the best. And she handed my ass to me.”

“So what?”

“So what? Do you know how she did it? It wasn’t raw power. Even that green I could still produce a shockwave that could turn a krogan’s bones to dust. And I didn’t hold back. I went all out- -and she barely even raised a hand to me.”

“So you’re incompetent, then.”

“No. I WAS uncontrolled. That’s what biotics are. They’re not just about throwing around energy balls and singularities. It’s about concentration, absolute focus. Something you don’t seem to have. Samara? She could FLY with biotics. Kind of. You, you just…” She sighed and put her head in her hand. She shook her head, and then gestured violently toward Starlight. “It’s like you don’t even know what you’re doing! I’m sure that thing on your head serves a purpose! It clearly isn’t for looks!”

“Well at least I have HAIR!”

“She has a point!” called Si’y.

Jack turned and raised her hand toward Si’y. The ground exploded with shockwaves of energy toward him, barely giving him a chance to jump down from where he was hovering before the piece of equipment jumped up into the air and fell over with enough force to shake the entire room.

“Please do not do that,” said Armchair. “I have dedicated this room to firearm target practice, but it is not designed to contain high-level biotic discharge. If you rupture a window, you will die.”

Jack raised her middle finger to the disembodied voice. She then turned her attention toward Starlight. “How long have we been doing this? Two days now? And you’ve learned, what?”

“Well, I thought you were supposed to be some kind of teacher.”

“I am. And I’ve seen children learn faster than you. This just isn’t working.” She paused, and an idea came to her. Starlight could tell that it was an idea that she was not going to like.

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking you might learn better the way I learned.”

Jack pulled off her goggles and set them down on a crate beside her. She stretched her arms and started to walk toward Starlight.

“Jack,” said Starlight, backing away. “What…what are you doing?”

“You said you want to learn how to control this, to defend yourself, right?”

“I did say that…”

“Well, then. This is a practical test. Kill me.”

“Jack, I can’t- -”

“I’m even giving you the first shot,” said Jack, stopping and spreading her arms. “Shoot one of those uncontrolled beams at me. See what I can do with it.”

“I can’t fight you, Jack. It wouldn’t be right.”

“So you won’t take the first punch?”

“No!”

“Fine.”

Jack raised her hands and a pair of energy balls burst forth from her body, both spreading outward in inverse arcs and flying toward Starlight. As they moved through the air, Starlight could feel them traveling, cutting through space. The energy in them vibrated in her horn.

She raised her shield again, surrounding herself with blue energy, but instinctively directed more energy into one side than the other. The first orb hit and was absorbed, but the other one hit from the other side and exploded, knocking Starlight across the floor.

The energy blast was more than they usually were. It was not simply a burst of energy or force; as Starlight was thrown down, she felt its energy fusing with her shield, pouring into it like an electrical discharge, making her unable to concentrate.

“Dispel it!” said Jack, stomping forward. “Next one’s a singular! Strike back or you die!”

Starlight looked up at her, and knew that she was serious. Jack summoned a dark sphere in one of her hands. Starlight, not thinking, raised her left hoof.

The singularity flew out, but rebounded instantly off a wall of orange light, exploding in Jack’s face and knocking her off balance.

“What the hell!” cried Jack, covering her eyes. She looked at the translucent orange wall. “A barrier? Who taught you how to do that?!”

“No one did,” said Starlight. “I’ve been practicing with the omnitool. The programming, the math, it’s all just…so easy. And using it seems somehow just so intuitive for me.”

“I hate tech powers.” Jack stepped up to the wall and pulled back one of her fists. It ignited with blue energy, and she slammed it into the barrier. The wall shattered like glass against the force of the biotic punch. “What, are you going to try to hack me?”

“No,” said Starlight, smiling. “I was just distracting you.”

Jack was suddenly knocked forward as a barrel wrapped in blue light slammed into the back of her head, knocking her down.

“Ow, what the- -”

The barrel twisted in the air and hit Jack from the side. She was thrown sideways from the force and into the remnants of a damaged shuttle. As soon as she hit, Starlight focused her power onto the surface of the metal. While Jack was still confused, Starlight tore up several pieces, twisting them as though they were thin plastic, and bent them around Jack’s body, trapping her against the shuttle.

Just to be sure of her victory, Starlight opened her omnitool and tapped at the interface using energy from her horn. A circular, eye-like holographic combat drone appeared and drifted over to Jack, focusing its weaponry at her.

“What the hell?” said Jack, breaking a slight smile. “How did you manage to do that?”

“I told you, I was practicing with the omnitool,” said Starlight. “At first, it was really hard to use the interface with hoofs. But then I realized I could use my biotics to click at the keys. Then I realized I can lift things with my horn. So…this.”

“So you’re a full-blown telekinetic?”

“I guess so.”

“It’s a start,” said Jack. She charged her own biotic power, and the blue fire-like energy that surrounded her body atomized her metal bindings. She stood up, wiping off the dust. “Now if you could just put that much focus into controlling energy output, you’d be golden.”

“Is it correct to assume that you are going to stop fighting now?” said Si’y, peeking out from behind the shuttle. “This one is disappointed.”

“We’re not doing it for your entertainment,” said Starlight, deactivating her combat drone. Not that it could have done any real damage, of course. Starlight knew how to program one, and could make it shoot, but she had never bothered to make the energy projectiles especially powerful yet.

“There’s an idea,” said Jack. “Hey, Star, do you want Si’y to take my place?”

“What?” gasped Si’y.

“Sure. Fighting a biotic like me is one thing. Stopping yourself from getting shot is another entirely.”

“This one does not want to fight the honored pony!” cried Si’y, quickly. “That is…it would be unfair for this one to engage in a battle against such an inexperienced opponent, especially considering the Starlight Glimmer’s lack of appropriate armor and shielding.”

“That’s right,” said Jack. “We’ll have to get you a shield. Also…”

“What?”

“Now that I think about, you kind of are naked.”

“So? My tail covers everything.”

“You have things that need to be covered?” said Si’y, craning sideways.

“Hey!”

“That’s not what I’m concerned about,” said Jack. “Because, to be honest, almost all human women wear shirts. I don’t.”

“Although, sadly, there is not much to look at,” suggested Si’y.

“What are you talking about? Look at all this ink! But that’s not the point.” Jack walked to one of the walls and leaned against it, picking up a bottle of water and sipping from it. Next to the water was a plate of bagels, and she picked up part of one and took a bite out of it. “It’s more about choice,” she said, setting the half-eaten piece down. As she stepped forward, Starlight watched as something moved behind a vent directly over her and a long, hairy insect-like leg peeked out, reaching down until it latched onto the bagel fragment, at which point it quickly pulled it back into the vent. “You shouldn’t have to be naked if you don’t want to.”

“It’s okay, Jack, really,” said Starlight.

“Don’t know where we’re supposed to get pony clothes anyway…” Jack reached down onto the table again, feeling around for the bagel but quickly realizing it was gone. “What the…”

“So, there will be no more catfighting?”

“I don’t know. Jack, are you ready for another round?”

“Maybe later. I’m going to get some lunch.”

“Afternoon, then? Maybe about three?”

“Sure, why not.”

“This one will still be here,” said Si’y. “Doing ‘inventory’ for Captain Sjdath.”

“Really?”

“No, of course not. This one will be taking a nap in its tank.”

“You live in a tank?”

“The hanar are an aquatic species. Of course this one lives in water when it can.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Jack and Si’y headed for the exit, Jack walking and Si’y floating slowly, his armored tentacles trailing through the air. Starlight decided to stay, if only to sweep up and replace the targets at the end of the range.

Neither task took especially long, and after a few minutes, Starlight had finished replacing the burnt metal. All the time, she was wondering what it would actually be like to wear clothing. She had never considered it before, but it would probably be fun. In her mind, she imagined something form-fitting and armored, like a hybrid of Si’y’s armor and what she had seen people on Omega wearing. Possibly in black, but maybe in gray. Something with a large section in the back so that her spinal implants would be exposed.

With this image in her head, Starlight finally started heading toward the door. She figured that it would probably be best to get something to eat, and then to adjust her omnitool some more. For a moment, she even considered asking Sjdath how to set up the neural-shock feature, but decided against it. Sjdath had been awake for days, desperately trying to parse out the scrap they had and haggling with dealers for reasonable prices. Sometimes even late at night Starlight could hear vorcha-language yelling in the lower cargo holds if she happened to be walking by.

As she was trying to leave, however, Starlight noticed Zedok leaning against the open bay door, blocking one end of it.

“Oh, hi, Zed,” said Starlight.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Oh. Well, sorry.”

Starlight attempted to walk past her, but Zedok moved, blocking her path.

“I’m trying to get through,” said Starlight. “If you don’t mind…”

“Actually, I do,” said Zedok. “We need to talk. Now.”

“I guess I have time. About what?”

“You know what.”

“No. No, I really don’t.”

“Really? Do you think I’m that stupid?” She stepped forward, forcing Starlight to retreat into the cargo hold. For some reason, Zedok was unusually angry. “I stayed up last night. I watched where you were going. Did you think I wouldn’t find out about you and Jack?”

“Me and- -that’s none of your business!” exclaimed Starlight.

“Yes. Yes it is. You think you can just waltz in here like that and just…just sleep with her?”

“Sleeping is all we’re doing!” protested Starlight.

“That doesn’t change anything.” Zedok looked around the room. “Five years. FIVE. YEARS. That’s how long I’ve known her. A third of my life. I’ve been asking her to train me since the first day I could get up the nerve to actually talk to her, and every time- -EVERY TIME- -she comes up with an excuse. And then she goes and picks you instead.”

“Well, then, we can talk to her about it,” said Starlight. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind- -”

“No!” cried Zedok, punching a large crate with enough force to dent it. “That’s not going to work. I’m angry, Starlight.”

“I can see that.”

“This isn’t a joke! You don’t even know her! Not like I do!”

“Zedok, you’re not being rational.”

“Rational? RATIONAL? I’ve been hearing stories about her since I was old enough to talk! How she helped stop the Collectors, or fought Cerberus, or how she was at the Battle of Earth when the Reapers were defeated! How she’s been my hero since I was old enough to even know what a biotic was!”

“I’m not trying to change that fact- -”

“Yes, yes you are.” Zedok stretched out her hands and they flashed blue with biotic energy.

“Zedok? What are you doing?”

“You’re going to fight me. And I’m going to win.”

“And, what, she will love you?”

“Pretty much, yeah. Once I show her who deserves to be trained. Here’s a hint: it’s not you.”

She lobed a burst of biotic energy at Starlight. Starlight did not even bother to dodge; the shield she cast around herself absorbed the blow easily. It did not feel remotely like getting hit by Jack; if Jack’s biotics were a hard punch, Zedok’s were like having feathers thrown at her by a light breeze.

“This is stupid, Zed!”

“I said don’t call me that!”

Zedok leaned forward and burst with blue energy, accelerating rapidly, apparently with the intent on punching Starligh. Starlight activated her omnitool, producing a barrier at a forty-five degree angle. When Zedok struck it, she rebounded off it, sliding sideways, tripping, and skidding across the floor as she fell.

“That’s cheating!”

“No, the combat drone is cheating.”

“Combat- -HEY!”

The drone had snuck behind Zedok and fired a low-power shot into her back. As far as Starlight knew, asari were pretty durable. The energy surges really did nothing aside from hurt.

“I will destroy you!” cried Zedok, lobbing a biotic blast at the drone- -only to be hit by a far more concentrated impact from behind that sent her flying across the floor.

“I’m sorry!” cried Starlight, suddenly frightened. “I’m- -I’m still having trouble controlling that! Oh, crap, please don’t be hurt please don’t be hurt!” Starlight galloped over to where Zedok had been knocked down. “Are you okay?”

Zedok did not move at first, and Starlight stated to panic- -until a singularity was lobbed at her head.

“Why would you do that?” said Starlight, grabbing the energy sphere in her own power and stabilizing it into a humming mass. “Now THAT is cheating!”

“No,” said Zedok. “This is.”

She pulled a gun from her belt and fired. Starlight was knocked back by the force, and immediately overcome with a level of pain that was all-too-familiar. It was everything she remembered from the memories and dreams, now centered in her left shoulder. Her mind was wrenched away from reality with the shock and surprise and horrible pain.

In all the pain and confusion and fear, Starlight lost control. The power in her horn rose, and she saw her energy- -her magic- -condense into a solid, translucent blue blade. Before she could stop herself, she rammed it through Zedok’s chest, impaling her against the wall behind her.

Zedok’s eyes widened, and she coughed up a purple fluid. “Aw, crap,” she said.

“No, no I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Starlight backed away, shaking and in pain, not knowing what to do. “I- -I- -”

The construct that had skewered Zedok faded, and Zedok dropped to the floor. Still conscious, she pointed at Starlight’s left arm. “Omnitool. Call my dad. Damn. I’m gonna be so grounded for this…”

“Omnitool…” Starlight looked down, and then tried to lift her arm. She cried out in pain from the rapidly spreading corrosive damage in her shoulder. “Can’t reach. Give me yours!”

Zedok raised her hand weakly and activated the tool. Starlight took it in her magic.

“Fenok!” she cried. “Fenok!”

“Starlight? What are you doing on Zedok’s frequency.”

“You have to get here quick! Range bay! I- -I messed up! I messed up real bad! Zedok’s hurt, and I’ve been shot- -”

“Just hold on!” said Fenok, his voice immediately more serious than Starlight had ever heard it. There was no sign of weakness, though, just authority and strength. “Stay there! I’m on my way!”

He might have said more things, but Starlight was losing blood too fast. The world faded, and then went dark entirely.

When she woke up, she was under lights again, and Starlight almost burst into screaming thinking that she could expect hooves to be holding her down and masked faces preparing the drills- -but then she remembered.

“Zedok!” she cried, sitting up and immediately regretting it. “Oh, crap, what the- -” She looked down at a bandage over her shoulder and remembered that she had been shot.

“Of all the foolhardy, infantile, idiotic things to do!” cried Fenok, lumbering into the room.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” cried Starlight. “I didn’t mean to!”

“Quiet!” snarled Fenok. “I’ll chew you out second! Her first!” He pointed at his daughter who was sitting on a second bed, leaning against the back wall. She was pale and shirtless, with a large bandage over her chest. “What were you thinking?!”

“You’re- -you’re okay!” cried Starlight.

“Of course I’m okay,” snapped Zedok. “I’m half krogan.”

“It doesn’t work like that, and you know it! You may be my daughter, but your body is asari! I get stabbed in the heart or the lung or the spine, who cares, I’ve got another one, but you- -if you try that, you die! If that injury had been to inches to the right- -”

“It wasn’t dad.”

“Did I do something wrong? Where did I go wrong? What did I do to make you like this?”

“Dad, you’re overreacting.”

“Overreacting? You shot the FRIGGIN PONY!”

“I’m sorry,” said Starlight. “It was my fault! I lost control and- -”

“Oh, I know who did this to her,” snarled Fenok. “And I have an urge to strangle you right now. But I’m a pacifist. AND I know that you didn’t start this. What the hell do you THINK is going to happen if you shoot someone? Why would you even do that?! Where did you even get that gun?”

“Dad- -”

“Answer me!”

“We have hundreds of them in storage! We were fighting, and I was just trying to win!”

Fenok bent down and looked his daughter in the eyes. “And if you had succeeded? If she had died there? Would that have made you felt better?”

“Do you think I don’t know?” screamed Zedok, clenching her chest in pain. “Do you think I didn’t realize that when I had a dying pony bleeding out in my lap?! Do you think it doesn’t bother me that I almost killed my friend?!”

Fenok wrapped his daughter in a hug, even as she protested and broke down into tears. “I thought I had lost you,” he said. “Don’t ever do that to me again. I already lost your mother. I can’t…I just can’t…”

“I know, I know,” said Zedok.

Fenok backed away. “Your safe now, though. Both of you. That’s what counts. But if either of you ever pulls something like that again…”

“You’ll send us to boarding school on Thessia, I know.”

“I might actually do it this time. But for now, both of you are grounded.”

“You can’t ground Starlight.”

“No, I can’t,” mused Fenock. “So you’re grounded TWICE!”

“DAD!”

“No buts! No- -ahrg, I can’t deal with this right now. Look, look at my hands, I’m shaking. I can’t think clearly right now. I’m going downstairs, and I’m going to drink about ten bottles of vodka. Then I’ll come back up here and yell at both of you more calmly!”

Fenok turned and grumbled to himself as he made his way out of the medical bay.

“Just like her mother,” he grunted as he clicked the door control and stepped out.

Starlight and Zedok sat in the quiet for a moment, neither one looking at each other.

Finally, it was Starlight who spoke. “You shot me,” she said.

“Yeah, well…I guess I got kind of carried away.”

“‘Kind of’?”

“I’m a half-krogan teenager. What did you expect? I’m sure you did tons of stupid stuff in your teenage years…”

“I spent my teenage years in a glass tube hooked up to machines,” snapped Starlight. “So, yes, if having my muscles atrophy and getting food pumped into me through a hole in my side is teenage rebellion, sure. Sure I did.”

“Well, you did stab me.”

“I did. And I’m sorry.”

“You had better be.” Zedok paused. “But that was pretty cool. Was that a tech thing?”

“No. It was biotic.”

“You mean that big blade? That was seriously biotic?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn. That’s kind of epic.”

“Yeah. Twelve inches of epic right through your chest.”

“Dad says you missed anything important. I even stayed conscious the whole time. Hurt like hell, though.”

“And do you think getting shot felt any better?”

“No, I guess not.” She let out a long sigh and leaned back. “I guess I screwed up pretty bad, didn’t I?”

“We both did. But you screwed up first.”

“You don’t need to rub it in. I was just so angry at you. But to be honest, I can see why Jack chose you. You’re way better than I could ever be.”

“It isn’t about who is better. I asked Jack to help make sure I don’t do what…well, what I just did to you.”

“Wait. So you’re getting lessons from Subject Zero, the most lethal biotic mercenary EVER…to learn how NOT to hurt people? That makes no sense!”

“So you want her to train you how to hurt people, then?”

“No, I…no, that’s not it. I just…” she leaned her head back against the wall. “I just want her to pay attention to me.”

“So you were trying to kill me to get her attention?”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you! Yes, I know I shot you, but…that was a horrible mistake, one that I don’t think I could have come back from if…well…”

“I know what you mean.”

“You do, don’t you? I just want her to even recognize that I’m here. To tell me a story about what the War was like, or what it was like to know Commander Shepard, or to see a real Reaper, or how she really did get those eyes.”

“I think there’s a reason she doesn’t talk about it.”

“Why? Those things are epic!”

“To you, maybe. But not to her. A lot of people died in that War, a lot of people she cared about.”

“But then shouldn’t we talk about them? Sing songs about their heroism, what they did for us? You know, krogan stuff.”

“I’m not the pony you should be talking to about this. Talk to Jack.”

“Are you kidding? She’s terrifying!”

“You’ve got that right. Starlight leaned back, being careful of her injured shoulder, and opened her omnitool, tapping at it with energy from her horn and trying to adjust the neural interface manually.

“To be honest, I’m considering asking you to teach me. I mean, you’re not nearly as powerful as Jack is- -because nobody is- -but you’re way out of my class. You can do tech, too, and I can barely even do a good singularity.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” Starlight looked up from her screen and smiled. “That biotic acceleration thing you did? That was pretty cool.”

“Kind of my specialty.” Zedok leaned back proudly, only to wince in pain.

“Besides,” said Starlight. “Not that I like the idea of them, mind you, but you should consider yourself lucky that you can use guns. I can’t. Because, you know.” She lifted her hoofs into the air. “Hooves.”

“That I’ve actually been practicing.”

“Yes. Because you clearly hit me squarely in the heart.”

“Shut up!” said Zedok, smiling. “I was upside down and dizzy! But seriously, I know daddy doesn’t make enough to pay for fancy armor suits, but Sjdath has a TON of old guns, and most them don’t even work. I probably could make something real nice…you know, I think she even has a snowblind module somewhere…”

“I don’t know what that is. Just don’t shoot it a me this time.”

“Only if you don’t go making asari-kabobs.”

“I don’t know what that is, either.”

“You don’t- -come on, you’re killing me here!”

“No, I already tried that, apparently.”

Zedok laughed, and as she did, she snorted. Mortified, she looked at Starlight, and they both started laughing.

“Stop it, stop it!” wheezed Zedok over the hilarity. “I still have a hole in my chest- -the stiches!”

“I’m- -trying- -but I- -can’t!”

The two of them eventually calmed down. Starlight wiped away a tear from her eye. It was the first time she had laughed that much, and she didn’t even know what they were laughing about.

“So, we’re cool?” said Zedok.

“Not sure what that means.” Starlight watched Zedok frown. “But I think we are.”

“Hey,” said Zedok, a mischievous smile crossing her face. “You want to know a secret?”

“Um…if it’s about those ‘hot-dogs’ in the freezer being actually made of dog- -”

“No, not that!” Zedok leaned in closer, glancing around as though someone was watching. “I know where my dad keeps a bottle of ryncol!”

“That krogan alcohol stuff? Doesn’t it light on fire?”

“That’s half the fun! Plus, the stuff is so concentrated that you only need to sneak an eyedropper full and dilute it for, like, eight gallons of liquor.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m an adult pony,” said Starlight. “I don’t think I need to be sneaking to drink alcohol.”

“So you don’t want any?”

“I never said that.” Starlight returned Zedok’s mischievous smile, and they both jumped down from their respective beds.

Just before they reached the door, though, Starlight stopped. She was still looking down at her omnitool, the holographic read screens projected in front of her face as she walked when her eyes narrowed.

“Hey, Zedok, how many omnitools are there onboard?”

“What, like active ones? Well, there’s mine, dad’s, Sjdath’s,” she ticked off the tools on her fingers. “Of course yours, and Si’y has the hanar equivalent. I don’t know about Arachne.”

“He does,” added Armchair, causing Starlight and Zedok to both jump in surprise and then blushed heavily, not having realized that he had been there the whole time. “I, however, as a starship, do not.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Starlight.

“Why?”

Starlight looked up at her friend. “Because I’m detecting seven. And one of them is a substantial distance off the port stern.”

Zedok looked confused for a moment, and then her eyes widened, realizing what that meant.

As quickly as she could, Starlight opened a channel. “Sjdath,” she said. “We have a problem.”

Chapter 11: Space Battle

“Beep, boop, beep- -SPLOOSH!”

Scootaloo rubbed her forhead, and watched Carrot Top slowly revolving on her chair, tapping on the orange construct around her left hoof.

“Do you have to do that here?” she asked, exasperated.

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted me to help Roseluck calibrate the auxiliary scan.”

“That’s not what you’re doing.”

“It isn’t what she was doing before,” groaned Roseluck. “I’m not sure what I expected. Trixie is way better at this than you.”

“Well, what do you expect?” said Carrot, shrugging. “I’m a hydroponics engineer. I couldn’t tell a scanning discharge node from a hole in the plot. And check it out, this thing has games!” she pointed it toward Scootaloo. “Look at this one! You match crystals that are the same shape and color, and then the drop! Why don’t we have this in Equestria?”

“Loss of productivity?” sneered Roseluck. Carrot Top glared back at her and then stuck out her tongue.

“You shouldn’t be playing with it,” said Scootaloo. “It’s alien magic, and we have no idea how it works or what it’s even for.”

“They’re probably going to dissect you when we get back to Equestria,” taunted Roseluck.

“Hey, if the stallion’s handsome enough, I’ll let him put his hooves in my innards all night long.”

“You weirdo,” laughed Rose.

“Can you two PLEASE take this seriously?” demanded Scootaloo. “I mean, come on! I’m half your age and I’m STILL being the mature one in the room.”

“You’re right,” said Roseluck, turning back to her controls. “Sorry, Captain.”

“A report, then?”

“Scans indicated that the EQX went erratic for a few minutes, but it has since stabilized.”

“And what do you make of it?”

“I don’t know,” said Rose.

“I do,” said Carrot. “My guess would be that it got injured. I mean, I feel pretty erratic when I hurt myself.”

“But with those readings, it would have been pretty bad…” Roseluck’s eyes widened and she turned to Scootaloo. “You don’t think they’re trying to interface her to their systems, do you?”

Scootaloo had not considered that, but she felt her nervousness beginning to rise. “There’s only two ways that could end.”

“How?” said Carrot, seriously not knowing.

“Either she dies,” said Scootaloo, hyperbolically slowly, “or they do it. And we never catch them.”

“So, what, we attack now?”

“Trixie is fully integrated into all systems and prepared for battle,” said Roseluck.

“No, not yet,” said Scootaloo. “Maybe if we got closer.”

“They don’t have windows on the top of their ship,” said Roseluck. “I could come in near there…but of course, I have no idea where their sensors are.”

“Maybe if we- -” Carrot jumped as her omnitool began suddenly beeping and flashing loudly. Scootaloo turned to her angrily. “I thought I told you to stop playing games!”

“That isn’t me!” cried Carrot. “I don’t know what- -”

“Captain!” cried Roseluck.

Scootaloo looked up at the magically enhanced image of the enemy ship just in time to see it turn rapidly and accelerate to faster-than-light speed.

“We’re had!” she said, frantically pulling open her panels. “All hands, brace for acceleration! Rose, FOLLOW THAT SHIP!”

“You don’t have to tell me twice!”

Roseluck leaned forward on the controls, and the ship began to rattle and shake as its internal systems flooded with magical energy before it suddenly lurched forward in pursuit of their target.

The ship shuddered from the impact, and Starlight was thrown into Zedok, nearly pushing both of them over the edge.

“What was that?!” cried Zedok.

“Impact off the starboard bow,” said Armchair, cheerful even though he had just been shot. “Polyharmonic induction shields are proving ineffective. Hull damage sustained.”

Starlight burst into one of the upper chambers of Armchair’s body, and as she did, she caught a glimpse of boxy, asymmetrical vessel passing just outside one of the windows. It paused for a moment, and Starlight understood what that ship held and what it had come for. Then, as quickly as it came, it accelerated again, its ball turret strafing along the side and leaving cracks and pits in the windows.

“Our windows are being damaged,” said Armchair, sounding disappointed.

There was another strong tremor as Armchair was struck again, and Starlight felt the ship tilt.

“We are losing pressure in sections seven, twelve, and eight…and maybe nine?” suggested Armchair. “We are closing bulkheads.”

There was a distant mechanical sound as the gaps between rooms on either edge of the hallway began to close, dropping to the floor. Suddenly, just before the farthest one closed completely, Jack rolled through the bottom.

“Why aren’t you fighting back?!” she demanded.

“We are trying, but it is impossible to detect the attacking vessel. There is no- -” he paused for another barrage from outside, this one causing a small explosion somewhere on board. “- -mass signal. We cannot get a read on its element zero core to track its position.”

“Is it releasing a gravity field?” said Jack, quickly.

“Gravity field?”

“A biphasic gravity field!”

“No. No it is not.”

“Then there’s still some hope.”

Another wave rocked Armchair, and Starlight braced herself against the ground. Once it was over, one of the bulkheads hissed open. Air was sucked outward in a torrent as Sjdath clawed her way through from the vacuum on the other side.

“Just when I think I have a buyer,” she hissed, sealing the door behind her with a command from her omnitool. “Now this…”

“Armchair!” yelled Starlight. “They have an omnitool on board! Lock onto its position and use it to track them!”

“That won’t work,” snarled Sjdath. “Not unless they had completely turned off all the security settings. And only a complete moron would- -”

“We have locked on target,” said Armchair. “Returning fire.”

“Forget returning fire!” said Sjdath. “Get us out of here!”

“We cannot. Their ship is faster and more maneuverable than we are. And with only an omnitool signature, we cannot target neither their weapons nor engines.”

“They’re going to blow us out of the sky if we just sit here!” shouted Zedok. “Do something!”

“We do not currently have the freedom of motion or processing to perform that action. However…”

“What?”

“Our maneuverability would be improved if we were perform motions that would overwhelm the inertial dampers.”

“That’s called making pancakes!” cried Sjdath. Then her eyes widened, and she turned toward one of the cracked windows. A reddish, cloudy planet was visible rapidly approaching. “You wouldn’t…”

“It’s the only way.”

“Fine. Fine! See if I care!” Sjdath opened her omnitool. “I’m clearing the path to the primary cargo bay.”

“We had suggested that you installed escape pods.”

“We don’t need escape pods!”

“Escape?” said Zedok, confused. “No, wait! You’re not saying we should RETREAT?”

“It’s not like we can do any good here,” said Jack. “We’re leaking air like a sieve.”

“And what’s to keep them from just attacking us when we get down there?”

“We will distract them,” said Armchair. “Disable them, if we can.”

“But you can’t even see them!” cried Starlight.

“We do not need to. We have windows.”

“Got it,” said Sjdath as one of the bulkheads opened, hissing form the pressure equalization. “Move, now!”

The group rushed forward, even though Starlight was not sure where they were going.

“Where’s my dad?” asked Zedok, nervously.

“Fenok is stocking up on medical supplies and bringing the auxiliary suits,” said Sjdath, who was continuing to turn her respiratory valve all the way to the open position. “Si’y is- -”

“Right here,” said the hanar, drifting into the main hall just as the ship shook with another impact and then seemed to slide as Armchair took evasive action. Si’y, of course, did not move in the slightest; he just hovered where he was, loaded down with weapons. “This one does so enjoy planetary landings.”

“Ever tried one when you’re getting shot at?” asked Jack.

“No.”

“Well, you’re about to stop enjoying them.”

The group started moving in unison. Their speed was brisk, perhaps too brisk for Starlight, until they came to a hallway that was blocked by a large organic mass.

Starlight gasped; it was the first time she had ever seen Arachne in the light. She had not known entirely what to expect, but what she found was an enormous insect, a quadrupedal red-brown creature with a pair of tiny arms held high above its four legs and a set of winding antennae.

Arachne seemed to largely ignore them, and as they pressed against the sides of the hallway, he stepped past them.

“Wait! You’re going the wrong way!” cried Starlight.

Arachne turned and released a long, eerie melodic sound.

“Arachne will be staying,” said Armchair. “We need someone competent to repair the damage. His body is not as susceptible to g-forces or loss of atmosphere as the rest of you. He will be the one who looks out the windows.”

“Fat lot of good those windows did us,” grumbled Sjdath.

Arachne turned his numerous eyes toward Starlight. His tentacles moved, and he produced something that he had been carrying. Starlight watched, and realized that he was handing her something- -and that that something was a landing suit.

“For…for me?” she said.

He did not respond, but laid the armored suit over her back before turning around and lumbering off.

“Thank you!” she called from behind.

“Yeah, custom made, real nice and all, we know. Now, if you’re done, our ship is kind of getting shot down.”

“Yeah…right…”

Starlight hesitated, but then began to follow the others. They eventually reached the cargo bay, the windows of which were heavily cracked and pitted. Outside, Starlight could see the pony ship circling, handily dodging Armchair’s weaponfire. Fenok, likewise, was already waiting for him.

“Please tell me you have a shuttle in here somewhere,” said Jack.

“Don’t need a shuttle,” said Sjdath, stopping and directing her attention toward the far wall. The group looked up, and Jack turned to Sjdath.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am. I am also pretty sure I patched at least eighty percent of the bullet holes. Who cares, though. The vacuum of space doesn’t affect me. Now get in.”

A blast shook the Rainbow Dash so hard that Scootaloo was nearly knocked out of her chair. In her haste, she had forgotten to attach her security belt, and, hoofs shaking, latched the band of fabric around herself.

In the Academy, she had trained numerous times in battle simulations. She could not count how many virtual pirate vessels, warlock cruisers, or even Crystalline drones she had attacked, sometimes in formations with nearly one hundred other cadets. Nothing had prepared her for this, for the blasts of energy or the swooping curves that Roseluck expertly produced, as though she knew exactly where every enemy shot was going to be before it was even fired. Or, rather, almost any.

“What was that?” cried Scootaloo. “What just hit us?”

“They’re using some kind of projectile cannon!” said Carrot, perhaps too loud. “Our shields are designed for magic, not for having hunks of metal lobbed at us! We have a hull breach somewhere downstairs!”

“Specifics are helpful!”

Lyra clutched the edge of Scootaloo’s chair, bracing against the impact. “That thing moves like a bloated cow!” she said, almost on the verge of laughter, her one functional eye lit with a fire that Scootaloo had never seen in her before. “They’re trying to hide in that planet’s exosphere- -Return fire! Target their Core!”

“We can’t isolate any- -”

“Captain!” cried Roseluck, pointing. Scootaloo looked up to see the part of the enemy ship shift. Something smaller burst out of the side, descending rapidly toward the dingy looking planet. Scootaloo did not see it clearly, but was aware that it must have been some kind of landing craft.

“No!” cried Lyra, slamming her metal-coated hoof down on one of Scootaloo’s armrests. “No no NO!” she pivoted quickly and galloped out of the room.

“Lyra!” cried Scootaloo.

“Captaiiiiin!” shouted Carrot. Scootaloo turned back to the window just in time to see the enemy ship suddenly accelerate sideways at an impossible angle, instantly accelerating to several times its previous maneuvering speed.

“What the- -it was a trap!” she cried. From the window, she saw the ship dip below her own, releasing a plume of fast-moving beads of light from its underside.

“Torpedoes inbound!” cried Roseluck. “Taking evasive action!”

Lyra dashed through the halls of the ship when it rocked suddenly. The gravity system lurched, and she felt herself sliding sideways. From deeper in the vessel, there was a sound of rending metal and a burst of sound as the hull somewhere ruptured. On one side of the hall, Muffins was trying to douse a small fire with an extinguisher while wearing a respirator mask against the rapidly dropping pressure.

“Lyra!” cried Scootaloo through the comlink system. “What are you doing?”

“That landing craft- -the Core is on it! I can feel it!”

“Lyra, it’s too dangerous to land right now! Stay on the ship! That’s a direct order!”

“No dice, Captain,” said Lyra, pulling an emergency handle to open the sealed bulkhead to the main cargo bay. “You’re just going to need to cover me.”

Before the lights could even flick on, Lyra crossed the room and climbed into her one remaining possession. She pulled herself into the narrow cockpit and shifted on the seat, putting her legs forward and leaning back. Then, taking a deep breath, she charged her magic and activated the device.

The machinery hummed to life, and the back of Lyra’s armor opened, exposing her spine. She winced as the machine interfaced to her spinal implant, and then smiled as the magical coils began to charge of her own bodily energy, ringing with orange light as the gears and cylinders began to come to life, motivated by her and her alone.

Lyra inserted her hooves into the slots for them and interfaced with the controls. As the cockpit closed, Lyra raised her mechanical hands, flexing the immense fingers outside her canopy of enchanted glass.

The ship rocked again. “LYRA!” cried Scootaloo.

“Just deal with it, Captain,” said Lyra, prepping her final systems for emergency descent. “Prepare for Lyrafall in three…two…one…”

Far below, on the unnamed planet’s rocky surface, a six-wheeled vehicle tried to slow its descent with a number of small thrusters only to slam hard into the ground, its poorly lubricated joints creaking and its mass effect core skipping from the blow.

“See,” said Sjdath, who was clinging to several internal metal objects with enough force for her claws to leave marks. “I told you it wouldn’t burn up on reentry.”

“This one thinks that it threw up in its suit,” said a rather queasy sounding Si’y, who was crammed tightly between a wall Starlight.

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” said Fenok, crowding out Jack and Zedok, his already enormous shame made much larger by the full body armor that he was wearing. He sounded even more nauseous than Si’y.

“A little cramped, don’t you think?” said Zedok, trying to push away from her father and forcing Starlight into Si’y’s tentacles.

“It’s designed to fit six humans!” said Sjdath. “Or…three? I don’t know, I didn’t build it.”

“This think is a relic,” said Jack. “And by the way, if you’re expecting to go through space, don’t patch the holes with bondo.”

“Did you survive?” asked Armchair, his voice transmitted through the vehicle’s speakers.

“Yes,” said Sjdath, pushing forward and pressing the communication button.

“Interesting. We were expecting at least thirty percent fatality.”

“Do you have a reason for bothering me, Armchair?”

“Yes. The enemy ship has fired something at your position. It is using a long decent pattern. You will need to move as far as possible as quickly as possible from the drop sight to avoid it. We will be reducing unnecessary processes to improve our combat experience. All further questions can be directed to Arachne.”

With that, the transmission ended.

“Arachne can’t talk, can he?” asked Starlight.

“He can,” said Fenok. “The rachni are actually extremely intelligent creatures.”

“Yeah, but only Armchair knows what he’s saying,” said Sjdath, sliding out of the driver’s seat.

“Um, cap?” said Zedok. “Armchair said we need to go fast. As in, you know, DRIVE.”

“I know,” said Sjdath, tapping on the screen of her omnitool. “We need to go fast. I bought this from a baterian trader for a pack of bacon because I thought it was hilarious. Never thought I would have to use it, though.”

The omnitool activated, and a translucent human figure appeared sitting in the chair. He was male- -at least as far as Starlight could tell- -and dressed in some kind of military armor.

“VI 1.7 AGB active and ready for duty!” he said. His head turned toward Sjdath. “The extranet says that you are not alliance navy. You can therefore shove a- -”

“Sjdath,” said Jack, leaning forward. “Why do you have a VI of my dead boyfriend?!”

“Reasons,” said Sjdath. “Commander Shepard, do you know where you are?”

“Analyzing…I am in an M35 Mako.”

“You are.” Sjdath clicked rapidly at her omnitool. “I am patching you into the automated systems.”

“Wait, what?” said Jack, sounding concerned. “Oh shi- -Ashley warned me about this!” She started to stand up, trying to open the top hatch. “Let me out! NOW!”

“I can predict the driving habits of the real Commander Shepard with seven percent accuracy!” cried the VI. His foot lowered on the gas pedal, which immediately dropped entirely toward the floor. The Mako lurched forward, half of it immediately bumping over a rock almost as tall as it was and sending the occupants flying about.

“Seatbelts! It doesn’t have seatbelts!” bellowed Fenok.

“Oh! Si’y, don’t put your tentacle there, that’s sensitive!” cried Starlight, her armored suit catching on his as they were jostled together.

“I want to sit next to the hanar!” exclaimed Zedok.

“What the hell was I thinking?” cried Sjdath.

The front of the vehicle shifted, projecting an image of the outside. Starlight nearly vomited when she saw the landscape outside rushing by at immense speed. The planet was covered in rocks and small trees, but the VI refused to go around them. Instead, it just leered like a madman, leaning over the control wheel and refusing to release the accelerator even slightly.

“THRUSTERS!” it cried, and suddenly, for no apparent reason, the Mako blasted into the air.

“This one is too young to die!” squeaked Si’y, wrapping Starlight in a crushing embrace.

“Too…tight!” she wheezed.

“Just- -why? WHY?” asked Jack.

“There’s nothing this galaxy can’t beat if we all work together! Except the Reapers. I mean, have you seen the size of those things?” said the VI. “They did kill me, after all. But not before I strangled twenty of them to death with my bare hands!”

“Definitely Shepard,” said Jack.

“It’s weird that you call your boyfriend by his- -OOF!- -by his last name,” said Zedok as the Mako slammed into the ground and then promptly jumped off a small incline, slamming into the ground.

VI Shepard turned to Jack. “Anyone ever tell you you’re one hell of a looker, soldier?”

“We’re going to have to have a talk about this,” said Jack to Sjdath, who was by this time on the floorboard, desperately holding onto the base of the driver’s chair as she was thrown about by the motion of the vehicle.

“Now is the part where I fire the gun randomly at things!” cried the VI as the cabin was filled with the overpowering explosive force of the mass-effect gun firing.

“Why?” said Sjdath. “Why would you even- -”

“During the Geth Insurrection, I defeated twenty armchairs with my bare hands- -and a bigger gun!”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

“I think I’m going to throw up,” said Starlight, putting her hoof over her mouth.

“Not on me!” cried Zedok. “This place already smells bad enough!”

“We have bigger problems,” said Zedok, sounding faint. “Look!”

The others turned, and Starlight gasped. The digital image that served as a windshield showed a towering sheer cliff in front of them, a threatening rocky crag extending high into the air.

“What…what is it now,” said Sjdath, slowly sitting up. “Did we level out? Am I dead yet?”

“No,” said Jack. “Look.”

Sjdath looked at the window, and her eyes widened.

“No! NO! Don’t do that! Bad VI! Stop!”

“Commander Shepard never stops! Unless, you know, I die.”

“Captain Sjdath!” squeaked Si’y. “Stop it! The honorable hologram of Commander Johnathan Shepard, please STOP!”

“I can’t turn it off!” said Sjdath.

“Crap,” sighed Jack.

Starlight closed her eyes, and the Mako hit the cliff at full speed. Instead of crushing or even stopping, though, it tilted to a nearly vertical angle- -and started to climb.

The occupants were immediately thrown to the back of the cabin on top of Fenok. Starlight was knocked free of Si’y’s strong grip and slid into the krogan, only to have Jack land on top of her next to Zedok. Sjdath, meanwhile, remained dangling from the bottom of the driver’s chair. VI Shepard did not react remotely to the change in orientation; as a hologram, he had no mass or physical being. He just kept pressing forward as if he were driving on a flat surface that was horizontal instead of vertical.

“How is this even possible?” asked Zedok, who took advantage of her position in the pile to wrap her arms around Jack’s lower torso.

“The mass-effect core generates an artificially low center of gravity and- -I don’t even know,” muttered Fenok. “I think I’m going to puke in my helmet, though.”

“This one already did that,” grumbled Si’y.

Starlight looked up at the window toward the cloudy red-yellow sky. In a way, it was pretty, as if she were looking at a horizon- -but it was also wrong to be suspended in this way. Worse, the vehicle was starting to slow. Then it ground to a halt, as if finally realizing that it was proceeding in a direction in a way that was physically impossible.

“Sjdath?” said Starlight, pushing her way out of the pile. “What happens if it stops?”

“I can answer that,” said Shepard. He turned back toward Starlight, an insane smile on his face. “THRUSTERS!”

The Mako burst off the wall of the cliff with a surge of rocket-powered energy, and started to fly backward through the air. Released form the cliff, it now started to fall.

“Sjdath!” cried Zedok. “What happens if we land- -if we land upside down?”

“Well,” said Sjdath, weakly. “A vorcha buys the vehicle for scrap, scoops out the skeletons…and…well….”

Starlight felt Fenok’s arms close around her. His grip was not as tight as Si’y’s, and he was shaking. Starlight imagined that she was probably shaking too, considering that they were plummeting toward the ground in a vehicle made mostly out of rust and driven by a mentally incomplete hologram of a dead human.

As they tumbled through the air, though, Starlight suddenly shivered. She looked up through the window- -a nauseating experience indeed- -and saw something distant moving through the air, a streak of orange light crossing the sky. For just a moment, she was confused as to why she felt the way she did about it, how it seemed like something she knew- -and then she realized that it was coming straight toward them.

“Sjdath!” cried Starlight, “incoming!”

“Incoming WHAT?” spat Sjdath. “The ground? Or my mortality? Or- -”

Her statement was interrupted as the Mako was slammed backward with tremendous force. Sjdath was knocked from her perch and the others jostled as the Mako was rammed into the ground by the impact.

For a moment, Starlight was dazed. She heard the sound of VI Shepard yelling something, and of the others reacting to something. She pulled herself back into consciousness in time to see the front screen. On it was as projection of what must have been right in front of them: a pair of metal arms from an appropriately sized armored robot grasping the edges of the Mako, holding it as VI Shepard attempted to reverse. Starlight’s eyes widened when she saw what was in the center of the robot’s transparent chest: the face of a teal colored unicorn, her horn glowing with orange energy as she smiled broadly and cruelly into the camera.

“Open fire! Shoot it!” cried Sjdath.

“The cannon is currently overheated,” said Shepard, shrugging.

“Then- -”

A sickening crunching sound filled the cabin as a set of metal fingers tore into the side of the Mako. Then Starlight felt a surge of magic.

“Duck!” she cried, just as a beam of orange energy cut through the top of the Mako, slicing it open like a can.

The teal pony pulled away the roof of the Mako, and Jack stood. She raised her arms and sent numerous blasts of energy directly into her face. The blasts themselves rebounded off an orange shield that surrounded the vehicle, but the pony did take a step back.

“MOVE!” cried Jack, jumping free from the wreck. Zedok followed, as did Sjdath. Starlight looked over the edge and hesitated.

“I- -I can’t!” she said. “It’s too far!”

“Come on, little pony” said Fenok, picking her up easily and jumping down.

Si’y was the last to leave, gracefully floating out as he drew all his weapons and began unloading into the heavily armored robot. His bullets either metlted or ricocheted off the armor, and as Starlight watched, the pony reached down, picking up the remnants of the Mako in her enormous hands and throwing it.

“Incoming!” cried Starlight. “Swerve left!”

Fenok and the others moved just in time to barely dodge the incoming hunk of metal. Starlight closed her eyes as it landed with a profound crash and began to smoke, the wheels still turning despite no longer being connected to the ground. Then she looked back and saw the vaguely humanoid robot walking toward them, its metal feet pounding against the ground as it pursued.

“Over there! To cover!” cried Jack, pointing to a rock formation.

They had barely made it in time when the pony opened fire, sending a barrage of narrow orange bolts toward their position. Jack jumped over and behind the rock, pulling Zedok down with her and barely managing to escape. Fenok held Starlight in front of him, blocking several powerful bolts with his shield and armor. Si’y and Sjdath took up the rear. Si’y continued to fire, absorbing several of the biotic shots in his shield before it eventually cracked and failed while he took cover.

Sjdath was not so lucky. She did not make it to cover in time, and several of the orange bolts struck her in the back, piercing through her body. Her eyes widened and she gasped before falling

“No!” cried Fenok, setting down Starlight. “Cover me, Jack!”

“Right.”

Fenock ran out into the oncoming fire and grabbed Sjdath by the leg, pulling her limp and bleeding body back to cover.

“Is it- -is it bad?” said Zedok.

“Yeah,” said Fenock, simply, pulling a medical kit off his back and opening his omnitool. “I’m on it, though. Si’y, you’ve been hit! Take your medigel!”

“Not while she still needs it,” said Si’y, removing part of his medical module and passing it to Fenok. “The blow to my form is minor. As a hanar, this one cannot sustain a broken bone.”

The orange discharge suddenly stopped. There was a moment of pause as the damaged ground steamed, where the only sound was that of the wind and the sound of the Mako burning. Then an amplified female voice called out.

“Attention primitives,” said the pony in the robotic suit. “I am Lyra Heartstrings of Inverness. You are currently in possession of Equestrian government property. Now, frankly, I don’t have any qualms about killing you all, but I’m feeling generous today. I only came for the Core. Give me the Core, and you will be allowed to live.” She paused. “Of course, I will be severing all of your hands. I intend to hang them on my wall. But you’d still be alive.”

Starlight peeked over the rocks and saw the other unicorn standing fifty yards away, just watching them. For a moment, Starlight considered the offer. Before she could think of what to say, though, Jack raised her torso over the rock.

“You can go suck a horsedick!” she shouted, lobbing a singularity at the same time.

Lyra raised one of her robotic hands and caught the dark sphere. Her metal fingers produced a surge of orange biotic energy as she closed them, crushing the singularity into nothingness with a resounding explosion. “So be it.”

At Lyra’s command, her exoskeleton raised its hands. Several mechanisms deployed from the forearms, and orange energy burst out of them as she began to walk past the now flaming Mako.

Jack ducked behind the rocks, and Si’y produced a long rifle, setting it over the top of the rocks and returning fire.

“Damn it,” said Fenok. Starlight turned and to her horror saw that Sjdath had gone into convulsions, her wounds pouring out black fluid onto the rusty ground.

“What’s happening?” demanded Starlight.

“I don’t know!” said Fenok, holding Sjdath down. “I think- -I think she’s adapting, but I have no idea what was in that blast!”

“This one is encountering a problem,” said Si’y, falling back behind cover and adjusting his rifle. He sounded slightly panicked. “Phasic ammunition is unable to break her armor, and armor-penetrating rounds prove futile against her biotic shield!” His speech was accelerating. “This one- -this one does not know what to do?”

“Don’t get shell-shocked on me now!” yelled Jack, lobbing several blasts of biotic energy over the rock as Zedok tried to fire her useless pistol without getting her head too far out of cover.

“Si’y,” said Starlight, looking him where she anticipated his eyes probably would be. “It’s going to be okay.”

“No. No it is not. This one- -this one has never fought something like that! This one- -we need to retreat!”

“Do you think Blasto would retreat?”

Si’y froze. “N…no. The venerable Blasto would never run from such a fight as this one.”

“Then what would he do?”

Si’y reached behind him and removed a weapon from his armor, one so large that he needed to hold it with all six tentacles. It was yellow, with a prominent nuclear symbol painted on the side.

“Blasto would win.” He turned to the others. “Friends. This one’s face-name is Sianiris, but its soul-name is ‘The One Who is not Shackled by Aversion to Deviancy’. You have become as family to this one, and should it not survive, please remember its name.”

Before Starlight could stop him, Si’y floated out from cover. Lyra did not hesitate to fire upon him, each impact slowing him only slightly as it depleted his shield as he raced forward. It only took three hits before the sheild was gone, and the forth struck him in the main body, sending bits of metal flying away from him. As he twisted through the air and started to collapse, he leveled his weapon at Lyra’s chest and fired.

There was a brief pause as the projectile moved toward its target- -followed by an impossible explosion that was so powerful that Starlight momentarally thought the world around her was cracking apart. She was facing away from the cover, and she saw the land covered in bright light from a rising blast of energy.

The force of the explosion sent Si’y flying backward, and he collapsed near Starlight. She reached out with her magic, grasping his limp body and pulling him back. As she did, a second explosion went off. This one was different, producing a powerful surge of blue lightning that made Starlight’s horn ache. The Mako, she realized, had just exploded.

“Si’y!” she said, turning him over behind cover as bits of metal and a tire went flying over the rock. His armor had been badly damaged, and the enormous hole in it was leaking copious amounts of clear fluid. Si’y had gone limp, and Starlight feared the worst- -until she saw that he was still clinging onto his weapon.

“This one…this one’s mass-levitation device has been damaged,” he said, his already electronic voice heavily distorted by the damage to his armor. Starlight saw something pink inside the armor quiver and flash with light. “This one…this one cannot move.”

“I think you got her,” said Zedok, standing up. A beam of orange light nearly struck her head and she ducked back down.

“For what it’s worth,” added Jack.

Starlight looked through a crevice in the rock, and saw that despite the blast from the weapon and the explosion from the Mako’s mass core, Lyra had not been stopped. She had been knocked back and a small hole had been produced in the shoulder of her armor leaving her left arm paralyzed. Despite that, she was standing again and marching forward, shooting from her remaining arm.

“What is that thing made of?!” shouted Zedok. She turned to Starlight. “Star, pick up that BFG and hit her AGAIN!”

“You can’t,” said Si’y, weakly. “The M920 Cain only fires one shot…”

“Great!”

Jack stepped back from the cover. “Alright, guess it’s up to me.” She turned toward Zedok. “I’m going to go all-out on this, but it’ll take me a few seconds to charge. I need you to cover me. Slow her down!”

“Yeah, about that,” said Zedok, holding up her pistol. “I’ve got five shots left before I’m out of clips, and I don’t think this thing is doing didly!”

“Then take this,” said Fenok, reaching behind his back to where his medical kit had formerly been and pulling out a worn, heavily used firearm almost as large as Zedok was. He threw it to her and she caught it with some difficulty. As she looked down, her eyes widened.

“This…this is a Graal Spikethrower!” She looked up at her father. “Where- -where did you even get this?”

“On Tuchanka. When I was your age.”

“I thought you were a pacifist!”

“I am, but you’re not! Just aim for the robot parts, not the pony!”

“Aim? With a Graal?!”

“I’ll do it if you won’t,” said Starlight.

“Hell no!” said Zedok, smiling more broadly than Starlight had ever seen her smile before. “Besides, hoofs!”

She leaned over the top of the rocks and charged the shotgun before releasing a baragge of spikes with enough recoil to nearly knock her back. Jack, meanwhile, pulled down her goggles and began to charge her entire body, surrounding herself in blue energy.

“Magic, really?” said Lyra, pausing from her barrage but still stomping forward at an almost lazy pace, as if she felt no need to advance quickly. “You think that you, a primitive, can stop ME, a Questlord, with MAGIC? No amplifiers, condensers, resource valves, no conduction maintenance system, no coils, not a SINGLE piece of magical technology, and you think you can even dent me?”

“Who needs magic when you have a SHOTGUN?!” screamed Zedok, firing a blast of enormous spikes into Lyra’s face. Most of them evaporated against her magic shielding, but several stuck into her glass-like cockpit window, cracking it.

“Oh, I will enjoy taking your hands,” said Lyra, marching forward slightly faster. “Rubbing them through my mane…all over my body…”

“Jack said to SLOW her down!” yelled Starlight.

“What do you think I’m doing?!”

“All this for a Core,” said Lyra. “Trust me, there is no way you could figure out how to use it without killing it. You don’t have the sophistication. You might as well give it to me. It belongs to us.”

“The only thing that belongs to you is a facefull of spikes!” Zedok promptly fired several rapidfire shots directly into Lyra’s robotic body, which was now less than ten yards from the cover. The spikes did nothing. “Oh come ON! Dad, I thought this was designed to hunt THRESHER MAWS!!”

“Does she look anything like a thresher maw to you?!”

Jack suddenly lifted her head. “You’re gonna want to move.”

Zedok pulled the heavy shotgun down from the rock and jumped back. Fenok shielded Sjdath with his body, and Starlight had no idea what to expect.

Then, with an animalistic scream of rage, Jack stood, spreading her arms. The blue energy burst from her body like an explosion. Biotic force burst out from her, and Starlight was terrified. The energy that poured out of her was unlike anything she had ever seen, barely controlled and directed toward anything in particular. Starlight had never realized just how powerful Jack was, and she could not help but be as awed as she was frightened.

The explosion of Jack’s energy burst outward and forward as a series of explosions. Starlight had though that Si’y’s explosion had been enormous, but it did not compare to these: the ground shook with each blast as they crept forward, explosions of blue energy one after the other, a shockwave extending outward from Jack’s body. The rock that they had been using as cover atomized as the energy moved through it, flying into pieces.

Lyra looked down at the stream of energy, and for just a moment, Starlight saw her one working eye widen. Then the shockwave hit her, the explosion tearing the ground beneath her and coating the robotic armor in corrosive blue energy that swirled and sparked as the strike passed through her.

Then the noise faded and all at once stopped. Starlight looked up, and saw that Lyra had been pushed back slightly but otherwise undamaged, her body glowing with orange energy that had shielded her. Inside the suit, Lyra smiled, and the exoskeleton took another enormous step forward.

Jack sighed, and then dropped to her knees.

“I’m going to enjoy reducing you to red paste,” said Lyra, now standing where their cover had been. “Assuming you bleed red. I actually don’t know.” She lifted her remaining metal fist into the air, and it ignited with orange energy. “So let’s find out.”

Lyra struck downward, but as she did, Jack raised her hands, projecting a dome shield that blocked Lyra’s first strike. Lyra, undaunted, lifted her fist and struck again. The shield shimmered and faded in places, and Jack groaned as she was pushed back.

“Jack!” cried Zedok, throwing down her gun and raising her own hands, adding to the biotic shield just as another blow came down.

Starlight could not do anything except watch. The entire situation seemed to drift away from her, becoming quiet and distant, just as it had on that day on Omega. She laid down in the alien dirt and covered her head with her hooves, confused and scared.

“Starlight!” cried Jack. The urgency in her voice pulled Starlight back to reality, but only slightly. “We can’t hold this bubble forever! Don’t let us down!”

Starlight lifted her head and looked around. Fenok was still tending to Sjdath, even as Lyra was bearing down on them. Sjdath’s wounds had started to heal, and her skin was darkening and thickening, but she was breathing rapidly, gasping for breath in pain. Si’y lay as a limp mass of tentacles, vulnerable and unable to even try to defend himself. Jack and Zedok were doing the best they could to protect the others, but they were starting to weaken.

“I have to…I have to protect my friends,” said Starlight, standing. “I have to protect them!” She focused her energy into her horn, and ignited her spell.

Lyra watched through her cracked window as the magical bubble started to crumble. She raised her fist for one more strike, which she knew would break it and quite possibly kill the wizards producing it. Before she could strike, though, the bubble shattered, and Lyra smiled, knowing that she had won.
] Her smile quickly faded, though, when she saw that the dome had not broken from her side, but rather from the inside- -and that an exponentially more powerful dome was expanding from beneath it. Lyra momentarily saw the core, dressed in alien armor, begin to float in the air, lifting herself with her own telekinesis. That view did not last long, though, as the sudden surge of magic forced Lyra backward.

“I don’t think so,” she said, digging her digitigrade feet into the soil and erecting her barrier spell- -only to see it instantly shatter against the oncoming surge.

The Core’s shield spell engulfed her, and Lyra watched as it warped on contact with her armor, spreading around the metal surface of her mecha- -and to her horror, she saw the spell change. It cut into the metal, burning it away, corroding it into dust and seeping into any cracks or fissures that the battle had been produced.

“No- -NO!” said Lyra. “You’re not going to take me that easily!” She charged her horn, producing an internal defensive spell and distributing it through the systems of her suit, dumping the whole supply of stored magic into a single attempt to produce a feedback purge. She fired it- -a blow that should have shattered any shield- -and then screamed as it blew back on her, tearing into her horn.

Eyes watering, Lyra looked through the cockpit window. She was surrounded in blue light- -but then she saw something different. She saw the Crystals, and the deformed, soulless Crystal ponies, clawing at her, pursuing her without stopping, clawing at her body.

“No,” she said, shaking her head and trying to force the flashback away. “Not now!” She summoned all of her magical strength, driving her suit’s one functional arm forward, but found that it would not move. The shield spell morphed around her again, bursting forward, grasping her robotic body, freezing her, lifting her arms.

Outside, Starlight floated over what had been a battlefield, focusing her energy on the robot, lifting it into the air. It was surprisingly simple. Too simple, even. Every second she held out the spell, she only seemed to get stronger as her mind connected so many new ideas about the workings of her power and as she came to realize just how much potential she truly had.

Starlight smiled, and then grasped the robot’s arms with her magic. With one swift twist, she pulled them free of its body, trailing threads of torn machinery in their wake.

“Jack,” said Starlight. “How much do have you got left?”

“Enough,” said Jack, standing and cracking her knuckles. “Zed? Think you can give me a boost?”

Zedok smiled and put her hands together, forming a foothold for Jack. Jack charged her, and Zedok poured what was left of her own biotic energy into tossing Jack forward. Jack flew through the air, charging one of her fists.

From her cockpit, Lyra glanced at the readouts. Her armor was severely damaged and continuing to corrode. She had lost both arms and the internal systems were failing. Then she looked up to see a human flying toward her.

The human rammed her fist into Lyra’s suit, just below where Lyra’s glass was. The metal should have hold, but in its weakened state, the human was able to punch through, pushing her hands into the metal and tearing it open, peeling back the Equestrian steel to reveal the pony inside the suit.

With a sudden jerk, the human pulled, and the force shattered Lyra’s glass canopy. She covered her eyes, but then saw herself looking into the face of an human clad in grayish soft-armor.

To her credit, the human mare did not hesitate. She slammed both fists into Lyra’s interface, overloading the systems with her own magic. The sudden surge of magic caused Lyra to lose her connection, and her suit lost power, dropping first to its knees and then falling backward.

Lyra braced herself she fell to the ground, and opened her eye to stare up at the human and the red sky. The human pulled back her glowing fist, and Lyra understood that this would be the last thing she would ever see. Strangely, she did not feel afraid. It was a day she had been waiting for, waiting for so long.

“Go ahead, human,” she said. “You’ve won, and you have the right to take your prize. Kill me.”

Jack held her fist over the pony for a moment, looking down and realizing just how small it was beneath all that armor.

“Wait!” cried Starlight, drifting through the air to Jack’s side, floating under her own power. “Please, Jack! You can’t kill her!”

“Yes I can,” said Jack, looking down at the teal face beneath her. A face not unlike Starlight’s, except with severe scarring on the right side that rendered this pony soldier half-blind. “You know she deserves it.”

“I do,” said Lyra. “If I had won, I would do the same to you.”

“No,” said Starlight, dropping to the ground. “She’s a pony, like me!”

“And do you think I haven’t killed humans, Star? What she is doesn’t matter.”

“But you’ve defeated her! There’s no need to kill, Jack!”

“There is always a need to kill.” Jack raised her fist, and the teal pony closed her eyes.

“Do you want to see her face in your dreams, too?”

Jack froze. She looked down at the pony, and knew that Starlight was right. For just a moment, she was reminded of a similar situation, when someone else had told her that there was a better way, back on Pragia.

“You know,” said Jack, lowering her fist. “I hate paragons. I really do.”

Lyra opened her eyes and, seeing Jack look away, pulled one of her hoofs out of its housing. The metal shifted, producing a blade, and she lunged at the human’s throat.

Jack dodged the blade easily and grasped Lyra’s hoof. “I gave you a chance, didn’t I?” she said. Then, with one swift motion, she pulled it free of Lyra’s body.

Lyra screamed in agony as her foreleg was removed, the wires and gears that connected it to her body splattering across her damaged exoskeleton. With her remaining leg, Lyra grasped the now empty metal joint, writhing in pain.

“My leg! Oh CELESTIA why does it hurt so much?! You motherbucker!”

“What did you do?” cried Fenock, running up to the side of the fallen armor and climbing to the side.

Jack looked at the still twitching hoof in her hand, turning it over. “What the hell?”

Fenok looked down at Lyra. “Hold still, pony,” he said. “I am going to administer some anesthetic.” He quickly lifted his hand, and then swiftly struck Lyra directly over her horn. Lyra’s eyes widened and her body twitched, and then she went limp.

“Fenok!” cried Starlight, putting her hoofs over her mouth.

“She’s just asleep,” he said. “Probably.”

“And what about Sjdath?” said Jack, flopping down exhausted on the defeated armor.

“I’m right here,” said an even more tired and disgruntled voice. Starlight and Jack both turned to see Sjdath limping toward them. The wounds in her chest were still visible, but they had mostly been healed- -and in addition, her body armor was already growing thicker and becoming increasingly mottled. “Damn…I hate getting shot.”

“If you had been a human, you’d be dead.”

“If I were a human, I’d probably have killed myself years ago.”

Zedok approached them as well, lugging Si’y, who was still clinging to his excessively large gun.

“This stuff better not be hanar blood,” she said, looking at the fluid that was saturating her with a look of disgust.

“It is the water lining of this one’s suit,” said Si’y, weakly. “With a small portion of blood, however. Indeed that is true. This one...hurts.”

A distorted voice crackled through Sjdath’s omnitool. She lifted her hand- -somewhat painfully- -and opened the channel.

“Armchair?” she said. “I really hope you are having more success than we are.”

“No,” said Armchair, his usual cheerfulness replaced with an ominous monotone. “The enemy ship has been badly damaged, but so have we. Systems are failing. We are not even sure which ones.”

“You can’t defeat them?” said Starlight.

“No. We do not have adequate processing power to ensure victory. We do not have enough geth.” Armchair paused, as if thinking. “We have generated a solution. We need you to return immediately.”

“What?!” said Sjdath. “First you send us down here, and now you want us back?! You are aware the Mako doesn’t have that much power?” She turned to the crater where it had been. “And…well…it kind of blew up.”

“It’s not a problem,” said Starlight. “I will move us.”

“Move us?” said Sjdath. “What is that even supposed to mean? You want to lift us all into space with your biotics? Because I would rather get back in there with THREE Shepards than try a fool thing like that.”

“No,” said Starlight, smiling. “You misunderstand.”

She lifted her horn and charged it with blue light. Space around her distorted, forming a sphere around the others and around Lyra, just like the shield spell she had used before- -except this time, she collapsed it inward, pulling space itself around them as she saw fit.

With a sudden surge of energy and a loud electrical pop, the teleportation spell engaged, and the group was gone from the planet’s surface.

Far above, Scootaloo stared out her ship’s frontal window at her enemy. The window itself was cracked and hissed as the air escaped into space. The ship floating outside was in horrible condition; its surface was cracked, broken and burned, and it appeared to be adrift. A few small fires could be seen through its windows even with over a kilometer between them.

According to the diagnostic screens, though, Scootaloo’s ship was not in much better shape.

“We’ve just lost pressure in the rear section,” said Carrot Top, her own screen flickering as the ship began to lose power. “We’ve lost connection to the ball turret, too.”

“Rose, position the frontal cannon.”

“Engines are not responding,” said Roseluck, looking back. “And we don’t have enough power left to fire the cannon anyway.”

Gravity fluctuated slight, and Scootaloo winced. The two vessels had fought to a stalemate, and now drifted in orbit of the red-brown planet below them. Both were too damaged to continue fighting; from what the scans showed, the enemy ship’s weapons had either been destroyed or depleted their supply of ammunition. As far as Scootaloo knew, though, its engines were still functional.

Scootaloo tapped her flickering interface and linked a channel to the engine room.

“Bengie,” she said, hurriedly. “I need more power!”

In the decks below, Bengie put her paw to the comlink in her ear and spoke over the noise of the engine. “I can’t give it to you, Captain! She can’t take much more!”

“Then reroute all systems to the engines,” said Scootaloo, her voice crackling over the failing communication line. “Weapons, shields, gravity, engines, life-support! Cut it all, and give it to the engines!”

“Captain, it might still not be enough. She’s on the verge of flatlining already!””

“It has to be!”

The communication closed with an angry click, and Bengie looked to Muffins who, now covered in soot, was doing her best to help with the failing central core. Muffins looked as worried as Bengie felt, and Bengie turned her attention to the liquid-filled glass tube that occupied the center of the room. The yellow fluid was glowing blue with magic, but it was now also tinted with red. The Core inside was dying. Blood was seeping from her eyes, ears, and from between her legs as she grimaced in pain, pouring out what little magic she had just to keep the ship together.

Bengie was actually surprised that Trixie had lasted as long as she had. Bengie had studied Core-interface engines for years, and she had seen hundreds of models, designs, and customizations. She probably knew more about them than most pony engineers aboard flagship vessels. In her time, she had seen many powerful Cores- -and this was not one of them. Trixie was barely enough to power a minor interstellar freighter, let alone a deep space vessel in the midst of battle.

What was truly amazing, though, was how long she had lasted. Stronger Cores would have given out already, but Trixie refused to. Bengie knew what that meant. It meant that she was not simply part of the system. In there, somewhere, she was truly trying, giving it everything she had.

Bengie turned to Muffins. “You heard the Captain! We need to jump the primary conduits! I need a spanner- -a SPANNER this time, not a wrench! Go!”

Muffins hurried off through the rumbling, overheated machinery in search of the worn tools. As she did, an alarm called Bengie’s attention. Trixie’s heart had momentarily stopped again, and the gravity in the ship fluctuated. Bengie expertly activated the necessitation system, bringing the Core back from the brink, if only for a little longer.

“Damn it,” she said, looking up at the pained unicorn in the fluid, her blue light returning. “You just won’t give up on us, will you?” She looked down at the controls, trying her best to optimize a weak core in an obsolete ship. “Maybe you really are a pony after all.”

“Captain,” said Carrot Top, turning toward her controls. “I just saw something.”

“Specifics, Carrot?”

“I don’t know, it looked like- -”

“It was a teleportation signature,” said Roseluck.

Scootaloo’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean- -”

She did not have time to finish pondering the imlications of what a teleportation spell meant. She could see on her screen that the Core was indeed on the enemy ship, and watched as the damaged vessel suddenly turned in space and broke orbit, fleeing as rapidly as it could.

“No you don’t!” cried Scootaloo. “Rose, don’t let them get away!”

“Let’s hope the engines hold,” said Roseluck. She entered the manual coordinates, and the Rainbow Dash did indeed turn.

“What about Lyra?” asked Carrot.

“We can come back for her! If we lose them now, we’ll never catch up!”

The ship shook and convulsed as it accelerated. Gravity failed, and the lights flickered and went out, leaving the bridge in near-darkness lit only by the light of the stars outside and by the glowing of the control projections.

The scenery outside shifted until the escaping vessel was in the exact center. It’s engines were functional, but it was limping. Scootaloo’s ship was gaining, but not by much.

“Come on, Trixie,” said Scootaloo under her breath. “Come on, just a little bit more…”

“Captain,” said Carrot Top. “I’m detecting something really weird on the front scanners!”

“I see it,” said Scootaloo, looking at her own readings. She froze for just a moment, and then looked out the window. “What in Tartarus is that thing?”

In the far distance, an object appeared to be growing closer. It was a tremendously, long object the size of a space station or even a small moon. From the readings and even visually Scootaloo could tell that it was mare-made, and that it was some kind of machine. Two long prongs stuck out to one end, and a bluish gyroscope swirled in the center.

“We’re getting some real weird magical readings off that thing,” said Roseluck, sounding nervous. “Captain?”

“KEEP GOING!”

“Alright,” said Rose, pushing her controls to their maximum as the ship shuddered and convulsed in attempt to keep up. “Let’s hope today isn’t the day my luck runs out…”

“I don’t get it,” said Scootaloo, mostly to herself. “Do they think they can hide in that thing? Or near it?”

“What even is it?” said Carrot. “It looks…it just looks wrong…”

Their question quickly answered itself. Just as they were finally within range to overtake the enemy ship, it flew into the center of the moon-sized station.

“Detecting magical field on the order of- -PULLING UP!” shouted Roseluck

“No!” cried Scootaloo. “Follow them- -”

Something in the station suddenly changed. The massive gyroscope suddenly ran faster, and the enemy ship accelerated between the two rails, appearing to stretch from the sudden burst of speed- -and then in a blinding flash, it was fired out the end of the device, vanishing.

“Follow them!” cried Scootaloo.

“We can’t!” shouted Roseluck back. “We have no idea how that thing works! If we try to go in blind, a magic field that powerful could tear us to neutrons! I think they teleported, but there’s no way- -”

“Can you calculate where they went?”

“Y…yes, but I don’t- -”

“Just do it!”

Scootaloo opened several more holographic projections and began typing madly on them.

“Captain, what are you doing?”

“I’m authorizing an emergency tactical teleport,” said Scootaloo.

“Teleport- -but you don’t have the authorization for that! It would take months for you to get approval!”

“Yeah, I know,” said Scootaloo, opening several channels that led back to Equestria. “But the Fleet Commander can order one whenever she wants…”

“You can’t be serious!” Roseluck turned to Carrot, and then back to Scootaloo.

“‘Wonderbolt12345’…enter…” Scootaloo leaned back, smiling nervously, knowing that she had probably just ruined her career. “Authorization accepted. Teleport inbound.”

The bridge was suddenly filled with pure white light as Celestia herself reached across the cosmos, taking their ship into the glow of her infinite magic. A force of magic billions of times stronger than any unicorn who had ever lived surrounded them, and Scootalooo felt the characteristic hum of space distorting. She gripped her seat, feeling the hair all over her body stand on end.

“Brace for teleportation,” she said, closing her eyes. This process had never in recorded history failed, but it terrified Scootaloo every single time.

Space around them suddenly detonated with white light, and then imploded around them. There was a brief moment- -an infinitesimal fraction of a second- -where Scootaloo was aware that they were not in any particular location, but rather nowhere at all and somehow everywhere at once.

Then they burst into a new area with a resounding pop, their ship still moving as it emerged from the void. The two-pronged station was gone, and the stars had changed. Scootaloo felt disoriented and confused, but did her best to focus.

Outside, she could see the enemy ship. It was not even trying to escape; it had just stopped.

“There they are! Prepare to open fire!”

“Um…Captain…” said Roseluck, weakly.

“What is…it…” Scootaloo looked up, and realized that there was no longer just one ship. There were now hundreds of silvery, insect-like starships floating throughout space, surrounding them on all sides.

“Oop!” said Carrot, her arm beeping. She extended her foreleg and summoned the interface for the alien device that was implanted inside her. “I just got an update! Hmm…what do you think ‘Perseus Veil’ means?”

Chapter12: More Geth

Starlight looked through one of the cracked windows and felt her eyes widen at the sight of so many vessels.

“We now have an adequate number of geth,” said Armchair matter-of-factly.

Jack looked up from helping Fenok lift Si’y onto a hover-stretcher.

“Come on, you idiot,” said Sjdath to the wounded hanar. “If you die, you’re not getting paid! Ever!”

“Armchair,” said Jack, slowly. “Did you just mass-relay us to GETH. SPACE?”

“Yes.”

“Are you INSANE?”

“No. We are geth. They are also geth. Though these geth are no longer compatible with those geth, everybody is geth here. It is unlikely that they know you are even here.”

“Unlikely?!”

“Besides. Geth are generally not hostile toward single vessels. Except quarrian vessels. If the other ship does not attack any geth, it should be able to move freely.”

Starlight looked at all the geth that filled this particular star system. “They would have to be some kind of idiot to- -”

The ground beneath her shook as Armchair was hit with another energy blast. The reaction outside was immediate; the hundreds of geth ships took offense to an attack on their own and began to converge on the pony vessel’s position. Starlight found that she actually felt bad for the other ponies; they did not deserve what was coming to them.

Then, suddenly, something started to tingle in Starlight’s horn. She winced, and then looked up toward a dark, empty part of space above the geth fleet.

“Warning,” said Armchair. “Gravitation and spatial disturbance detected…”

The screen flickered and froze.

“No! Not now!” cried Scootaloo, pounding her hoof against the magic that created the hologram. It passed through far too easily.

“Captain, that’s not what I want to hear,” said Carrot.

“Our beacon is too far! I can’t get a line to Equestria!” Scootaloo looked up and saw the ever-growing swarm forming around her, hundreds of vessels bearing down on her own. She had no shields, barely any weapons, and there was no way the engines would be able to carry them out of range of that many fully equipped starships. “I- -I messed up!” The realization came too late, and when it came, it was crushing. “I’m…” Scootaloo took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it, Scootalooo,” said Roseluck. “These things happen.” She sighed. “Guess I won’t get that florist shop after all.”

They stared up at the oncoming fleet, and together they tried to make peace with their fate. Scootaloo’s only regret was that she was taking so many of her friends with her from her own poor judgement.

Then one of her screens flashed on, displaying a symbol that Scootaloo had only seen in fleet manuals.

“Captain, look!”

Scootaloo looked and, though the cracked and hissing glass, saw the dark of space distort. Then, suddenly, the void erupted with an enormous violet bubble. Then, as if drawing itself out of nothingness, a massive vessel appeared- -a ship that dwarfed Scootaloo’s by hundreds of times.

“It’s the Harmony!” cried Roseluck in awe.

Across space, a lone pony stood on the railingless balcony of an empty bridge, staring through a wide, curving window hundreds of feet wide. The bridge was silent and empty, save for her, watching the confusion of the strange alien vessels with a smile on her face. She pushed back her rainbow mane and addressed the Fleet.

“All ships, scramble immediately!” she said. “Depart on side exits and flank them laterally! Leave no survivors!”

To Rainbow Dash’s left, a sudden surge of violet magic assembled a translucent, semi-abstract model of an alicorn. Her digital wings flexed, as if stretching, and her nearly robotic eyes looked toward Rainbow Dash.

“I have analyzed the composition of the enemy vessels,” said the magical hologram of Twilight Sparkle. She lifted a hoof and a number of violet interface panels appeared, hovering at her will in a redundant show of her own intelligence. A model of one of the ships floated in front of her like a translucent purple toy. “There are no signs of organic life. Either they are automated, or represent some kind of unknown life form. So, technically…”

Rainbow Dash sighed. “I get it. We can’t kill them. They can’t die.”

“I would appreciate a sample for further study, however.”

“Fleet,” said Rainbow Dash, watching her own ships pour out of the Harmony and into space. “Converge around the…” she sighed. “Around the RENS Rainbow Dash, provide it with cover.” She turned toward Twilight. “What were they even doing out here?”

Twilight looked out the front window- -again, a redundant effort; her holographic representation of herself could not see. Rainbow Dash watched as an overlay formed over part of the window, amplifying a frame until a single vessel appeared. It was different from the others, covered in windows and badly damaged.

The image resolved further, amplifying into the ship itself until a single image of a Core dressed in strange alien armor appeared, rendered in purple light. Rainbow Dash watched as she turned toward the Harmony, as if she could feel that she was being watched.

“That is her,” said Twilight, sounding amused and surprised. “The Core Starlight Glimmer. She is here. Moving to pursue.”

The Harmony began to move forward. Rainbow Dash watched them rapidly gaining on the Core- -and then saw that it was headed toward some kind of device, a kind of two-pronged station at least twenty times larger than the Harmony.

“What in Celestia’s name is that?” she asked, turning toward Twilight.

Twilight stared for a moment, and then raised her hoof. The panels she had projected before collapsed and swirled, forming a model of the alien station. They then rapidly flew apart, representing an exact model of its internal structure.

“My analysis indicates that it is a type of inorganic magic harnessing device. Based on its architecture, it appears to be a means of rapid transport operating by means of functional mass reduction. They may be attempting to escape the system.”

“Then there’s only one thing to do,” said Rainbow Dash. “Cut off their escape route. Destroy it.”

Twilight’s holographic eyes narrowed, and Rainbow Dash stepped back. “Rainbow Dash,” she said, coldly. “You command the Fleet, but remember: you do NOT command me. The Harmony is mine, and mine alone.”

“Yeah- -yeah, Twilight, of course,” said Rainbow Dash, nervously. “Sorry. I just got carried away.”

“Nevertheless,” said Twilight, turning back in time to watch the station approaching and then slowing her ship in response. “I think you are correct. I am currently charging the frontal cannon. Purely on my own volition, of course. You might want to move your ships out of the way.”

“All units, Code F. Calculate projection channel and clear the alley. Repeat: the Orbital Friendship Cannon is about to fire!”

Twilight sighed. “You know how much I hate that name. It is actually- -”

“A concentrated spatial distortion feedback spiral. I know, Twilight. You tell me how it works every. Single. Time. It just doesn’t have a ring to it, though.”

“Well, if you want to fly on my ship, it is important that you understand how my cannon works. It is neither ‘orbita’ nor powered by ‘frienship’. Also, firing.”

The frontal projection spike of the Harmony ignited with violet energy. A beam of purple energy cut through the air, incinerating any alien craft unfortunate enough to be caught in its sheer force corona. The vessel with the Core on it reached the alien station just as the beam did- -and with a resounding force, the mass relay shattered, its internal gyroscope tearing itself apart and detonating with a force great enough to destroy a planet. Blue flame and chunks of metal flew apart, bursting into space at nearly the speed of light as the force of the relay tore itself apart, only to be vaporized as Twilight’s beam cut through it.

In the last moments of the relay’s life, its two prongs, now separating and falling away, produced one final pulse of energy into the distant void of space. Then, all at once, the relay was gone.

Chapter 13: The Council

The Council door slammed open and a young turian rushed in, nearly tripping over himself. He panted, running into the chamber, a datapad in his hand.

“Councilor Vakarian! Councilor Vakarian.

The turian councilor looked away from the hologram that he and the other council members were addressing, and then sighed in embarrassment.

“What is the meaning of this?” said the salarian councilor, angrily turning toward Garrus. “This is a closed session- -”

“Councilor Vakarian!” wheezed the younger turian. “A mass relay…it…oh wow,” he bent over, putting his hands on his knees.

“Calm down,” said Garrus. “What is it?”

The younger turian stood erect. “Sir, a report just came in…mass relay M67, it’s been…it’s been destroyed, sir.”

The Council was silent for a moment. Then the salarian spoke. “Forgive us if we find that difficult to believe.”

“I have the report from long-range surveillance,” said the turian, transferring the file from his datapad to theirs. “Direct from the Relay Surveilance Network. It was just there, and then…gone.”

The asari councilor shifted in her heavy robes and looked toward Garrus. In the dim light of the Council chambers, Garrus caught the reflection of the wisps of Reaper technology that crossed her face. “Is not M67 one of the relays in geth space?”

Garrus groaned and put his face in his hand. “Crap…Va’Geth is going to have my head for this…”

“Excuse me,” said the salarian councilor, as perturbed as ever. “That sort of language is not appropriate for the council chambers!”

“My apologies,” said Garrus, not to the salarian but to holographic representation of an asari that they had been talking too just prior.

The young turian turned to his left, for the first time realizing that he was standing next to a life-sized rendering of an asari in a low-cut shirt. She looked down at him, not especially pleased.

“Intern Balius,” said Garrus, “meet Aria T’Loak.”

The turian intern’s eyes widened and he stepped back suddenly. “A- -Aria? Th- -THE Aria? Queen of Omega?”

“‘Queen’ implies I can be deposed,” she replied, her voice measured and distorted slightly by transmission halfway across the galaxy. “So I’m not a queen. I am Omega.”

The intern blubbered for a moment, clearly terrified and unable to react in any way that was remotely appropriate.

Balius,” said Garrus, carefully. The intern looked up at him, the only familiar turian face in the room. “Thank you for this information. You can go now.”

“Y- -yes sir, Councilor Vakarian.”

“Next time, knock. And get some exercise! When I was your age, I was chasing criminals all over this place, not getting winded from a two hundred meter sprint.”

“Y…yes, sir.”

The intern turned around and tried to walk out of the chambers calmly, only to resort to a kind of awkward running, as though he had just barely managed to escape some horrible fate.

“My apologies, Aria,” said Garrus.

Aria shrugged. “At least he’s trying to help. I just had publically execute a third of my staff for blatant disloyalty, so it’s good to see someone at least TRYING to do a good job.”

“Please forgive us, Aria,” said the asari councilor, checking the information pedestal that stood before her and quickly reviewing the information. “But the potential destruction of a mass relay demands our urgent attention.”

“Not a problem,” said Aria, crossing her arms over her chest and looking slightly disappointed. “I said what I came here to say.” Her gaze shifted toward Garrus. “Until next time, ‘Councilor Vakarian’.”

Her hologram fizzled and faded as she cut it from her own side, not waiting for the Council to disconnect her.

“Such a rude little thing,” said the salarian councilor.

“Yes, so rude. Don’t you just hate rude people, Diagalor?”

“Indeed.”

For just a moment, Garrus saw a thin smile cross Councilor Falare’s face before she pretended to be adjusting her hood and suppressed it. Garrus fell into step with Falare as Diagalor lead the way toward the Council’s inner chamber. For some reason, Diagalor insisted that she always be the first to enter any room unless protocol strictly forbade it. Garrus did not much care, seeing it as just another bizarre example of salarian political posturing. Diagalor was, after all, the only one of them who had actually spent much time being a true politician.

“Today has not been a good day,” said Diagalor, her voice clicking rapidly between words in standard staccato salarian speech. “First T’Loak comes to her bi-monthly report with stories about talking horses, and now we have to deal with a rumor about a damaged mass relay. Not good at all.”

“That’s just how it goes,” said Garrus. “At least something interesting is finally happening.”

“You would say that, Vakarian. But this job is not about unexpected things. Unexpected things are always bad.

“As long as we deal with them instead of trying to suppress the truth. Can’t think of a Council that ever tried that one, though.”

The salarian grumbled, or made a sound that was the salarian equivalent of grumbling. She tapped the hologram interface on the inner chamber door and opened the door to the large conference room that served as a place for private deliberations. The room, as always, was immaculately clean and perfect. The air was fresh and scented exactly as one would expect a large government office to smell. Garrus had no idea how they made it smell so stuffy.

As the two other councilors took their seats around the round, central table, Garrus braced himself for another long, boring discussion where Diagalor would mostly talk without stopping about boring procedural things for hours. It was days like this where Garrus wondered why he had ever accepted this position. At his age and with his history, he could have retired or even taught on Palaven. Some days he wished he could just sit and do calibrations instead of dealing with the life of a politician.

“You should really train your staff better, Vakarian,” said Diagalor. “M67 is a minor relay far in geth space. Aria would never have known if your intern had been more discrete.”

“Do you really think something Aria would not have found out?” said Falare, tilting slightly toward Diagalor. Diagalor recoiled just slightly, but enough for a trained investigator like Garrus to notice. Falare was generally soft-spoken, but for some reason- -a reason that Garrus was all-too familiar with- -almost everyone was terrified of her.

“Aria is…I never thought I’d be the one saying this, but she’s our ally,” said Garrus, feeling sick at having to say that. “She’s our main contact for leveraging reconciliation with the baterian government.”

“That does not mean we need to be liberal with critical information. Not until this rumor is either confirmed or determined to be unfounded.”

“It is hardly a rumor.” Falare displayed the information as a hologram in the center of the table. “We did not simply lose contact with the relay. Internal diagnostics indicated that it underwent cataclysmic damage before failing.”

“And these readings will need to be reviewed before conformation can be made. There is still a possibility that the report is in error. A failure of the surveillance system.”

“A failure?” Garrus leaned forward. “Didn’t your people design the system?”

Diagalor’s large, reflective black eyes flitted toward Garrus. “Salarian engineering is beyond reproach, but flaws are still possible. I recommend further study.”

“Falare, the relay should have taken a scan before it was destroyed.” Garrus opened his own omnitool and accessed the file. The floating information over the center of the table shifted and was replaced by a number of small model ships. Garrus instantly recognized a number of them as geth. What stood out, though, was a swarm of unidentified vessels pouring out of what seemed like a massive carrier.”

“What is that?” said Diagalor, her voice dropping as her natural salarian curiosity overcame her obligatory caution.

“The bigger question,” said Garrus, leaning back in his chair. “Is what the hell kind of a weapon is powerful enough to destroy an entire mass relay?”

The room fell silent for a moment, and the three of them just stared at the hologram of that single enormous ship.

“This…this is unprecedented,” said Diagalor at last.

“Is it?” said Falare. She turned to Garrus. “This is not the first time unknown vessels have arrived from darkspace.”

Diagalor’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean- -”

“Not even the Reapers destroyed mass relays, though. They needed them to move between systems, just like we do.”

“You’re not implying that whatever that is can move long distances WITHOUT a relay?”

“I’m not implying anything. But how did it get there? Don’t you think the geth would have noticed something like that sooner?”

“The geth may have constructed it.”

“No,” said Falare. “The geth would not build something that fights their own fleet and destroys their own relays. This is something else.” She opened a different file, a grainy piece of security footage given to the Council by Aria. It showed a grimy, unpleasant hallway on Omega. At first it was just a hallway, and then a pair of quadrupeds appeared. One was small and winged, while the other was larger with a prominent horn. They appeared to be talking.

“What is this?” said Diagalor. “This has nothing to do with the destruction of the relay!”

“A new alien race appears on the galactic outskirts, according to Aria as identifying themselves as part of a navy. Not three days later, an unfamiliar vessel appears out of apparently nowhere and destroys a mass relay. This may not be coincidence.”

“There is no such thing as coincidence,” said Garrus, watching the loop of the quadrupeds on repeat. They were, arguably, adorable- -or at least the small one was- -but he could not overlook the possibility that they were linked. “This is exactly what the Relay Surveillance Network was designed to detect. I know we are all thinking it. This is an incursion, and possibly even the start of an invasion.”

“We don’t know that!”

“I’m not going down that road again,” said Garrus, harshly. “I saw the same thing seventeen years ago. We had warnings. Sovereign, the Collectors- -and the Council refused to act until it was too late.”

“But we can’t rush action! We don’t have enough information! If we move now, without knowing, we could make the situation infinitely worse!”

“I recommend we speak to our Benefactor,” said Falare, immediately freezing the argument between the other two.

“Seconded,” said Garrus.

“I do not believe that we need to bother him with something so…nebulous.”

“Really? Okay, then. Who else here knows how to rebuild a mass relay? Anybody?”

Digalor fell silent. “Fine.”

Garrus opened his omnitool and looked to Falare. She very gently nodded, and he started to enter the information necessary to open the quantum channel.

The lights in the room dimmed slightly, and the hologram in the center of the table vanished. It was then promptly replaced by a new one, a number of abstract geometric blue lines scrawling their way across the surface of the table, eventually resolving into a shape resembling something like a large insect. Then, in the center, a pair of lights ignited. A pair of staring, unblinking eyes.

“Connection established,” said a deep voice, one that appeared to echo with the voices of hundreds if not thousands of others beneath it. “Why have I been contacted?”

Falare stood and addressed the hologram. It did not turn; with the way the eyes were projected, it stared at them all simultaneously. “We have received information that a mass relay has been destroyed by an unknown force.”

The Benefactor paused for a moment. “It has,” he confirmed. “That relay is comparatively minor to interstellar travel, but I will begin repairs as soon as possible.”

“So you had nothing to do with its destruction?” asked Diagalor, feigning confidence.

“No,” said the Benefactor, somewhat annoyed. “We have no reason to destroy a relay. However, it is disconcerting that one has been lost.”

“That’s the problem,” said Garrus. “We believe we found the ship responsible. So far, we have no idea what it is.”

“I have seen it as well.”

“And?”

“And I cannot identify it either. We do not recognize it. Which implies that it may be of extraglactic origin.”

“Extragalactic- -you can’t be serious! The technology to reach other galaxies simply does not exist! The relay that one would need- -”

“Would be the size of the Citadel?” suggested Garrus.

“The vessel in question did not arrive through a mass relay,” said the Benefactor.

“That is ludicrous!” cried Diagalor.

“And irrelevant,” said Garrus. “I don’t care how it got here. I want to know how to get rid of it.”

“Still the same Garrus,” said the Benefactor. “So very practical minded.”

“Can you remove it?”

“I could. But how do you think the galaxy would react to see my fleet moving through space? You would have a panic. No. This requires engaging with local vessels. Mobilize the Council Defense fleet.”

“I believe that decision is ours to make, not yours,” said Diagalor.

The Benefactor turned his full attention onto the salarian, who recoiled in fear. “It is my decision. This Council only exists because I allow it to exist. You were only elected because I CHOSE you to be elected, and you only remain on MY Citadel because I allow you to. This institution exists to allow me to control the galaxy, because you have shown yourselves incapable of doing so. Or, if you insist on doubting me, would you like the salarian seat on the council to end up as the human one did?”

“N- -no, Benefactor. My apologies.”

The Benefactor turned toward Garrus. “And you. I expect you to stay here. Continue to govern. I know it is hard, and boring. God do I know. But I don’t want to see you leading the charge against these aliens.”

Garrus smiled. “What would ever make you think I would do that?”

“Because I want to do the same thing right now. And because even under that face paint and expensive robes, I know that deep down, some part of you is still Archangel.”

“You bet your ass it is.”

“Unfortunately, it seems I no longer have one.” He turned to address the Council as a whole. “We will not engage unless we have to. Treat this with the utmost care. A galactic war could hang in the balance.”

The hologram flickered, and then vanished as the Benefactor cut the channel. The Councilors looked at each other.

Garrus sighed. “Seventeen years of peace. I wonder if that’s all we get?”

Author's Note

Sorry, folks. No ponies in this chapter.

Chapter 14: Fleet Commander

Scootaloo stood at the door to the primary airlock as her ship shuddered and clunked into one of the Harmony’s landing bay, driven by the telekinetic magic of Twilight Sparkle herself. The battle was over. It had ended almost as soon as the Harmony had emerged. Her ship, now inside the Harmony, was no longer in danger of sudden decompression, and she could feel the Harmony’s gravity- -so much more consistent and even than she was used to, as though Scootaloo were actually standing on a planet instead of on magic dispersion plates- -pulling her hooves against the floor.

Somehow, though, she felt more nervous than she had during the entire fight. Even when she had thought she was going to die, when she looked mortality in the face, she had been able to accept it. What waited for her on the other side of that large, circular door, though- -it something that she feared far worse than death.

The lights of the RENS Rainbow Dash flickered and came back to life, meaning that the ship’s system had been integrated into the Harmony’s. Scootaloo was glad that Trixie was given a momentary reprieve from powering the ship. She had survived, but not without injury.

Then, at last, the airlock suddenly began to move, turning slowly and opening. Scootaloo stood at attention as it swung open.

A trio of ponies stepped through the gap. The two on the sides were generic breeder Pegasi, their identical red eyes staring alertly from beneath their armor that covered their white coats and the barcodes imprinted on their flanks. They were not really of consequence; not truly guards or protectors but assistants to the pony that entered ahead of them.

She was the most beautiful pony that Scootaloo had ever seen, and perhaps the most beautiful she ever would. Even the Princess could not compare to Rainbow Dash, entering with her head held high, her long rainbow mane and tail brushed back over the gold and red of her armor, a suit that had been designed with the most advanced metallurgy of Equestria but designed to incorporate elements of ancient Pegasi motifs to denote Rainbow Dash’s station. Her strong wings, their ends gilded in blades of gold and steel, flexed just slightly as she looked down at Scootaloo: one wing blue, the other white, its joint marked by a long-healed surgical scar.

“Fleet Commander Rainbow Dash!” said Scootaloo, saluting.

“Captain Scootaloo,” said Rainbow Dash, her amethyst irises staring down without blinking. “I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

“Yes, sir,” said Scootaloo, still standing at attention.

“The only reason I came this far out into the middle of nowhere was because somepony used my personal emergency teleportation code. Twilight had to divert from a training wargame that took over seven months to plan. Do you realize what you’ve done?”

“Yes, sir. I understand and accept full responsibility for my actions. The choice was mine and mine alone, and I am willing to accept whatever comes. Demotion, expulsion from the Navy, whatever you choose. I would like to repent for my heinous actions, and therefore I would recommend that I be stripped of all rank and assigned to clerical duty to assist you as a secretar- -”

Rainbow Dash smiled. “Gutsy move, kid. I approve.”

“Or perhaps- -wait, what?”

“Pulling the Fleet Commander’s data for a move like that? That sure took a pair. Bold move. The brass might not be too happy about it, but in the long run, if you’re willing to take risks like that, you’ll make admiral by age the time your legal.”

“Fleet Commander…”

“And at ease, Scoots. Come on, you don’t need to salute me or keep calling me ‘Commander’. Your my sister.”

“Yes, sir…I mean, Rainbow Dash.”

Rainbow Dash and her two assistants began walking, and she motioned for Scootaloo to walk with her. “Wow,” she said, looking around. “This ship took a beating. I’m surprised this wreck held up for this long.”

“It’s a good ship,” said Scootaloo. “Old, but it works.”

“You should have seen my first command,” said Rainbow Dash, smiling. “Tiny. Smaller than this. But fast. Did most of the helmswork myself.” She laughed. “I must have been burning out two Cores a week the way I made that thing dance. Surprised I ever even got promoted to a multicore after that.”

Around one of the corners of the ship, Muffins appeared, nearly slamming directly into Scootaloo. She was covered in soot and smelled strongly of magic ionization, and was carrying a box of glass spheres and tubes that were part of the highly obsolete auxiliary amplifier platform.

Muffins barely managed to avoid dropping the box after almost colliding with Scootaloo, but upon seeing Rainbow Dash, promptly dropped it, shattering everything inside.

“Oops,” she said, looking down with one eye while the other looked up at the ceiling. She then saluted. “Fleet Commander Rainbow Dash.”

“Rear Admiral Doo,” said Rainbow Dash, performing a return salute.

Scootaloo, confused, looked at Rainbow Dash and then at Muffins. “Wait- -what- -” She promptly saluted Muffins. “Rear Admiral!” She leaned toward Rainbow Dash and whispered to her. “Since when does she outrank me?!”

“Since always,” said Rainbow Dash. She leaned in closer. “And boy does she put the ‘rear’ in ‘rear admiral’. Look at that bubble butt! And speaking of butts, I have a story about what I did with two stallions that you just HAVE to hear…”

Scootaloo blushed heavily.

“Oh, it’s okay,” said Muffins. She looked down at the mess she had made and sighed. “I guess I need to find a broom.”

As they walked away, Scootaloo looked up to Rainbow Dash. “If she’s a rear admiral, what’s she doing out here with me?”

“She’s contributed a lot to the good of Equestria,” said Rainbow Dash. “She wanted a mission out here, and we…well…the insurance premiums were getting really, really high.”

“Oh.”

“Speaking of which, how is the mission going?”

As if to answer, a small, dog-like animal skittered down the hallway. It rushed past Scootaloo, and Rainbow Dash took a step back, surprised by its presence. The white Pegasi accompanying her did not react, except with slight confusion; they had not been bred to react to predators.

The tiny creature jumped at Rainbow Dash’s leg, panting, and Scootaloo saw that a large red bow had been tied around its neck.

“Fish dog?” said Rainbow Dash, hesitantly poking at the varren’s face. “Yeah. Fluttershy is definitely here.”

“Of course I am,” said Fluttershy, emerging from a shadowy crevice in the wall. Her blue eyes flicked toward the breeder Pegasi, and they took a step back, both overpowered by an instinctive fear that neither of them could understand.

“Flutterbutter!” said Rainbow Dash, smiling. The two reached out and hugged each other. “I haven’t seen you in months! How’s the mission going?”

“Oh, quite well,” said Fluttershy, picking up her varren and placing it on her back between her wings. It grabbed onto her hair and looked out over the top of her head, salivating heavily as it panted. “So many new animal friends to make.”

“You know, you should really stop by to see Twilight. She even set up a lab for you. I think she’s excited to share findings.”

“I’m glad. I have missed her.” Fluttershy’s expression fell slightly. “And…Applejack?”

“Still mad at you.”

“Despite what she says, it was consensual. I mean it, Rainbow. He definitely said ‘yes’.”

“I know, I know. But you know how AJ can get. If it’s any consolation, she’s really cooled off a in the past few weeks. I think she’d be willing to let you come back now.”

“Oh, I’d love to. But I don’t think I’m quite done yet.” She eyed the red-eyed Pegasi who were cowering behind Rainbow Dash. “I’m so very far from done…”

“Whatever you say. But, I mean, come on. All three of us in one place? You totally have to have to get drunk with us. Well, me. Because Twilight…you know…”

“I know,” said Fluttershy. “Baron and I will go see her as soon as we can.”

Fluttershy smiled and cantered off.

“I love that filly,” said Rainbow Dash, watching her go. “But there’s just something about Tartarans. It’s like you can feel the evil coming off her.”

“Off Fluttershy? No way.”

“You’ve never seen her try to be assertive. Dear Celestia…so much blood…”

Scootaloo looked back at the pastel pony as she walked away. Then, as if sensing her, Fluttershy turned and smiled, revealing far too many pointed teeth. She slowly waved before continuing on her way.

“I’d rather not think about that,” said Scootaloo. She looked up at her sister. “Rainbow Dash, while we’re looking through the ship, there’s somepony I’d like you to meet.”

“Oh really?” said Rainbow Dash. “You didn’t pick up a consort already at your age, did you?” Rainbow Dash laughed as Scootaloo blushed.

So Scootaloo led Rainbow Dash through the halls of her ship. Unfortunately, many of them were damaged or charred from the battle, but Rainbow Dash did not seem to mind the mess. Occasionally one of the breeders would take notes, as if cataloging the damage. Most likely they were intending to bring in technicians to repair the damage as soon as they got the chance- -or to determine the vessel a total loss and give Scootaloo a new one.

Eventually, Scootaloo found the pony she was looking for.

“Trixie!” she called, waving the blue unicorn over. Trixie turned and, upon seeing Scootaloo, smiled. Then she slowly limped over to the group. Her motions indicated that she was extremely stiff and probably in pain, but she was still beaming with pride.

“This is Trixie, our Core,” said Scootaloo, excited to finally have a chance to brag. “I know it’s outside of normal protocol to let her wander freely, but without her there was no way we would have made it as far as we did in that battle. She really is something special.”

Trixie smiled at Rainbow Dash, baking in the praise. “Fleet Commander Rainbow Dash,” she said. “It’s an honor to- -”

Her sentence was interrupted by the dull thump of a hoof against flesh. Before Scootaloo knew what was happening, Trixie fell backward, crumpling to the ground.

“How DARE you speak to me directly, you filthy CORE?” spat Rainbow Dash, lowering her hoof. She stepped over Trixie, who was now confused and terrified, holding onto her face, and kicked her in the stomach, causing Trixie to cry out and double over into a fetal position on the floor.

“Rainbow Dash, what are you doing?!” cried Scootaloo.

Rainbow Dash turned to Scootaloo, and Scootaloo took a step back. Never before had she seen such hatred in those beautiful eyes. “Scootaloo,” she said. “There’s no way she got out on her own. You did this. You let her OUT.”

“She- -she’s a member of my crew- -”

“She is NOT a member of your crew! She’s not even a real pony! She’s a piece of EQUIPTMENT! No wonder your ship got this damaged if you keep letting the Core walk around like it’s an actual living thing! Scoots…” Rainbow Dash shook her head. “I’m disappointed in you. Using my codes was one thing, but this…even letting that THING talk to you is a blemish not just on you and your career, but mine too.”

“I’m sorry,” whimpered Trixie, shaking on the ground. “I’m sorry I’m sorry…”

“Stop TALKING,” said Rainbow Dash, lifting her hoof again. “Your kind don’t DESERVE to talk!”

Scootaloo felt her rage building, and before Rainbow Dash could bring her hoof down, Scootaloo jumped between the two ponies, protecting Trixie with her body.

“Cap…captain?” said Trixie, weakly.

“Scoots, get out of the way,” ordered Rainbow Dash.

“No!” said Scootaloo. “If it wasn’t for her, I’d be dead right now! We all would!”

“Scoots, do you know how ridiculous that sounds? It’s like saying the ship itself is responsible for getting you out. She’s not alive, you know that, right? She can’t even feel pain!”

“Yes she can! And this isn’t your decision to make! I’m the one who let her out, because I think she has the right to walk around like a normal pony! That was done on MY orders, because she’s my ship’s Core and that’s my right! I even consider her to be my friend, and I don’t care what you say, we all owe her our lives. So if you want to hit a pony, hit me, not her!”

“Captain?” said Trixie, her eyes wide.

Rainbow Dash raised her hoof, but Scootaloo did not even flinch. Then, with a long sigh, Rainbow Dash lowered her hoof to the floor. “Scootaloo, take me to your quarters. We need to talk.”

Rainbow Dash and her two drones stepped past. The white Pegasi paused for a moment, looking down at Trixie, not with contempt- -Scootaloo doubted breeders were capable of such negative emotions- -but with a kind of sad understanding. Then they followed their master on her way.

Scootaloo helped Trixie up, feeling how much she was shaking. The side of Trixie’s face was already starting to darken with a large bruise. “Are you okay?” asked Scootaloo.

“It will take more…more than that to stop Trixie,” muttered Trixie. “I’m…” She paused and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m fine, Captain. Thank you.”

“Go upstairs and find Rose. Tell her I sent you. There’s a medical kit on the bridge.”

“Scootaloo!” called Rainbow Dash. “I’m waiting!”

“I’m sorry,” said Scootaloo. Not to Rainbow Dash, but to Trixie.

The journey to Scootaloo’s room was performed in almost complete silence. Rainbow Dash refused to speak, and Scootaloo could not think of anything to say. As her emotions cooled down, though, Scootaloo began to realize the gravity of what she had just done. She had just actively defied the Fleet Commander, and her sister- -THE Rainbow Dash herself. Over a Core. Scootaloo understood that Cores were not ponies, at least in theory. They were constructs built to power spacecraft. But after spending time with Trixie, she just could not help herself, and may have completely lost the respect of her idol for that.

Eventually they came to the door that led to the captain’s quarters. It was one of the few gaps on the ship that had an actual door, one that could be locked. One that was soundproof.

“Wait out here,” said Rainbow Dash to her assistants.

“Yes, Fleet Commander,” they said in unison in identical voices. Rainbow Dash then opened the door and pointed, gesturing for Scootaloo to enter.

The captain’s quarters of any vessel were usually the most luxurious on the ship. The same was true for Scootaloo’s, in a relative sense. Her ship was small and old, so the room she got was oddly shaped, like a kind of triangle. There was a bed on one side, as well as a shelf that held manual starcharts and books. She had several possessions, including a few Equestrian propaganda posters featuring Rainbow Dash as well as several models of various ships in the Equestrian fleet and an aquarium filled with dull gray alien moths that Fluttershy had given her. The room was a bit of a mess, if only because anything that was not secured had been knocked free during the space battle earlier.

On the far end of the room was as gap partition that led to a small office. Instead of a desk, it contained a table. Rainbow Dash walked into that room and took a seat at the scarred and pitted old table.

Scootaloo followed, momentarily opening a small cabinet and searching for a glass that was not broken. When she found one, she removed it an a bottle of greenish liquid.

She joined Rainbow Dash in the room and set the glass on the table, and then pulled the cap out of the bottle with her teeth. “This…this is an alien beverage,” she said. “We picked up several cases of it at our last stop. Carrot Top says that it’s called ‘ryncol’.”

“Thanks,” said Rainbow Dash, coldly. “After what you did, I could use a drink.” Instead of waiting for Scootaloo to pour her a glass, Rainbow Dash took the whole bottle and started chugging. When she had drained a quarter of the bottle, she set the bottle down hard and gasped. Licking her lips, she looked down at the bottle. “Not bad. Not bad at all. Actually, pretty good.”

“Just try not to drink too much,” said Scootaloo. “You know how you get when you overdo it.”

“Are you saying I can’t hold my liquor?”

“No,” said Scootaloo. “Rainbow Dash, you know what I mean.”

Rainbow Dash looked down at the bottle. “Yeah. Yeah I do.”

Scootaloo took a seat at the small table across from Rainbow Dash. The room had a small window on the wall. Sometimes Scootaloo would watch the black, lifeless void of space through that porthole. Now, as she stared through, she saw the hangers inside the Harmony filled with returning warfighters and their crews walking amongst worker Pegasi and violet, robotic alicorns. She sighed, and then reached up and closed the shade, indicating that it was time for the conversation to begin.

“Standing up to me like that,” said Rainbow Dash, taking another swig of ryncol. “You’re really growing up, aren’t you?”

“Not enough, clearly,” sighed Scootaloo. “Rainbow Dash, I’m sorry, I didn’t- -”

Rainbow Dash held up a hoof to silence her. “No, it’s me who should be sorry. I must have raised you wrong. It’s my fault. And, really, I shouldn’t have done that to your Core. It’s your property, part of your ship. So I apologize.”

“R…really?”

Rainbow Dash leaned forward, her violet eyes staring at Scootaloo. “But Scoots, you have to understand. I know, it’s hard sometimes. They look just like ponies, just like unicorns, even. But they’re not. They’re just Cores. Things, machines.”

“I know, but- -”

“No buts, Scoots. It was great that you defended her, but your bravery is misplaced.”

“I understand.”

“Which brings me to my second point. That Core… ‘Trixie’? I can’t believe you named it, but whatever…it’s not the only Core involved in this, is it?”

Scootaloo’s eyes widened. “You know?”

“More than you do. I went back through my files, and you’ve been looking at things that weren’t meant for a first-level Captain like you. With my codes, no less.”

Scootaloo looked down at the table, ashamed. “We received an automated distress signal. When we traced it, we found a ship. Except it had been…damaged.”

“You mean salvaged. By aliens.”

“You- -you know?”

“I do now. Twilight saw it. The Core, on board one of those weird bug-ships.”

“I tried to get it back,” said Scootaloo. “I thought if I retrieved it…”

“You should have called for backup. You’re in over your head, Scoots.”

Scootaloo looked up at Rainbow Dash, and Rainbow Dash seemed genuinely concerned. “What do you mean?”

Rainbow Dash set down her ryncol and looked out the window, even though it was closed. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but since you’re my sister, I know I can trust you. At least, I hope so after what you pulled with that Core. Consider this your debriefing on the matter.”

Rainbow Dash produced a small crystal-like device from her uniform and placed it on the center of the table. She tapped it, and a violet projection formed over the table showing the exact vessel that Scootaloo had found adrift with all hoofs deceased.

“This vessel is called the Equalizer, codename EQX,” said Rainbow Dash. “Or was. It was developed in secret and tested at long-range until we lost contact with it two weeks ago. At first we assumed it had just gone into radio silence, but from what you’re telling me, it didn’t.”

“There were no survivors,” said Scootaloo. “Except the Core.” She quickly corrected herself. “But- -the Core is not a survivor. It just didn’t get damaged.”

“And that’s the problem,” said Rainbow Dash, changing the magic projection to show the specifics of the vessel. As Scootaloo read them, her eyes widened. “This isn’t an ordinary ship. It was an experimental model designed as a countermeasure against the Crystal Empire.”

“The Crystal Empire? But we’ve been at peace with them for years. The brother of the Fourth Goddess was married to the Crystal Empress. We’re unified now.”

“Don’t be naïve, Scoots. How long do you think Shining Armor will last? How long to ponies live? A unicorn like him will get, what? Two hundred, three hundred years? Cadence lives forever. As soon as Shining Armor is gone, the peace ends. Do you think we can just give up on our defenses? You don’t know what the war was like. You have no idea how many ponies we lost to the Crystals. What we all lost…” She extended her white wing, the injury that had all but ruined her ability to fly.

“But what was it doing all the way out here?”

“Have you ever heard of the Crimson Horizon?” Scootaloo shook her head. “It was a prototype for the Harmony, designed by Celestia herself. It used a Core made from a powerful mage called Sunset Shimmer. It failed and detonated. We lost three inhabited worlds.”

Scootaloo’s eyes widened. “I read about that! I thought it was a solar flare- -”

“Cover story,” said Rainbow Dash. “We couldn’t let the public know that our mistake cost over two hundred thousand ponies their lives. So we tested the Equalizer farther out, in case it did the same thing. There’s nothing important out here to lose.”

“I still have the coordinates for what’s left of the ship,” said Scootaloo. “I can show you- -”

“The ship doesn’t matter. Well, I guess it does on some level, but it’s just a husk. A well-designed, incredibly expensive husk, but a husk anyway. It’s the Core that matters. Look at these stats.” Rainbow Dash pointed. “This ship has a next-generation amplifier system, a full complement of heavy weapons, and shields that can crush through an asteroid field without even noticing. Assuming they’re turned on, of course.”

“But it’s so small…”

“That’s the beauty of it. A ship with this much firepower would normally be a Celestial class battlecruiser. Ten, twenty Cores at least. Probably closer to forty. That’s how many Cores it would take to power the Equalizer…if we were using an ordinary Core.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Scootaloo. “There’s something special about this one, isn’t there?”

Rainbow Dash smiled and nodded. “You have no idea. Get this: it is on par in output potential with Twilight Sparkle herself.”

Scootaloo’s jaw dropped. “But…Twilight- -”

“Is the most powerful Core ever created, and the only one made from an alicorn. The Equalizer’s Core is on par with a goddess.” Rainbow Dash leaned back in her chair. “That ship is faster than any ever created, even the Harmony. Only one unicorn in a thousand is born as a Core, and as far as we know, none has ever been born like that one.”

Scootaloo paused, and then turned to Rainbow Dash, confused. “Wait. Born?”

“Of course, born,” said Rainbow Dash. “Wait…you didn’t know?”

“Know what?”

Rainbow Dash laughed. “Oh, this is too rich! You actually didn’t know where Cores come from?”

“I assumed they were manufactured somewhere- -”

Rainbow Dash shook her head. “No. Unicorns aren’t like Pegasi, Scoots. We can’t just grow them on a farm like the Agricultural Ministry does with the breeders. They don’t breed true. Cores are basically…well, defective unicorns. I mean, haven’t you ever talked to Muffins about her daughters?”

“Sometimes,” said Scootaloo. “She really loves them. Always talking about how successful they are.”

“They’re Cores.”

“Wh…what?”

“Yeah. Both of them. Actually, her youngest just got the integration surgery about six months ago. I’m pretty sure it was installed into the RENS SmallScale. It’s actually docked here. Pretty good output, if I remember correctly. It’s about your age, too.”

Scootaloo just stared in horror. “You mean…they’re not born like that? They start out as- -as unicorns?”’

“No. Well, kind of. It takes a few years to figure out which ones are Cores. Usually we manage to get them as children, if a Core can even be considered a child. Hint: they can’t.”

“That’s terrible!”

Rainbow Dash’s eyes narrowed. “That’s the only way spaceflight is possible. And your empathizing with them again. I told you, they aren’t real ponies. You can’t feel bad for them.”

Scootaloo swallowed. “Yes, Rainbow Dash.”

“See, now we’re coming to an understanding. You’re starting to get it.”

Scootaloo looked down at the table. Her mind felt heavy. On some level, she supposed she had always known. It was hard not to. Somehow, though, she had suppressed it, focusing on her own duties instead of worrying about where Cores actually came from. Now, though, she found herself thinking of Trixie as a little filly wearing an oversized hat and cape, her eyes wide with dreams of performing on a stage for crowds of adoring fans, her back and face free of implants meant to bind her to a ship’s engine. It made Scootaloo want to cry, something she could never allow herself to do in front of Rainbow Dash. So she just smiled.

“Yeah,” she said. “I get it. They’re not really ponies after all.”

“There we go!” Rainbow Dash poured some ryncol into the class and slid it over to Scootaloo. “Have a drink, sis!”

“I’m too young,” said Scootaloo, recoiling from the foul smell of the liquid.

“Oh, come on,” said Rainbow Dash. “You’re a friggin captain! You’re on the cusp of marehood. You’ll probably have your first estrus any day now, come to think of it. Unless you already did?”

“No,” said Scootaloo, shaking her head. She looked up at Rainbow Dash and felt her heart skip slightly. “But I’ve felt…well, urges.”

“Let me guess,” said Rainbow Dash, laughing. “The rear admiral? Fluttershy, maybe- -actually, on second thought, don’t try that. At your age, I doubt you’d survive. Hay, even I’D have a hard time making it out of that alive. Or…” she grimaced and froze. “Don’t tell me it’s for the Core?”

“No!” protested Scootaloo, perhaps too much.

“Good. Because that would be disgusting. As if mare-on-mare love isn’t bad enough, doing it with a Core…” she shuddered.

“Yeah,” said Scootaloo, disappointed. She stood up and walked to Rainbow Dash’s side, sitting on a different chair. “Rainbow…do you think I’m pretty?”

Rainbow Dash laughed awkwardly. “What kind of a question is that, Scoots? Yeah, sure. You look great. You’ll probably have your pick of stallions when you get a little older. Just like I do.”

“Stallions…yeah…”

“You know, actually,” Rainbow Dash leaned in close and whispered, as though other ponies could hear her. “I’ve actually been going through the stud registry recently. I’ve been thinking of having a foal. Of course, I won’t be able to raise her, not with this job, but if I’m this awesome, just think of what my daughter could be.”

“Unless she comes out as a Core.”

Rainbow Dash’s expression fell. “Not going to happen,” she said. “I don’t make mistakes like that. And besides, you know how I feel about unicorns. No way I’d breed myself with one of them.” She sighed. “Not that it matters right now, though. I can’t worry about those things. My job here is to recover the EQX Core, no matter what. Twilight seems to think that it got away with that…relay…thing. We can’t trace it, but it’s only a matter of time.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t retrieve it,” said Scootaloo.

“Don’t sweat it, kid. At least you tried.” Rainbow Dash mussed Scootaloo’s hair. “You’re a good sister. I’m glad I could talk to you.” She leaned in closer, and her tone became far more serious. “Just remember what I told you. Put the Core back in its place where it belongs. If you keep going on with it, you’ll never get promoted.”

Scootaloo looked up at Rainbow Dash into her perfect face, once again feeling her heart skip. “Rainbow Dash, I…”

“What is it, Scoots?”

Scootaloo could not bring herself to say it. “I just…I was hoping I could assist in the search.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Twilight will get your ship back ship-shape, and then you can go back to your mission. Just try not to use my emergency command again. Seriously. I had to pull some strings to keep you in the navy for that.”

“Yeah,” said Scootaloo. “I know. Thank you. You really are the best, Rainbow Dash.”

“Of course I am,” said Rainbow Dash, standing. “Now, I’ve got some work to do. Oh, and have all the cases of this ryncol stuff up to me.”

She smiled and then left, opening the door and speaking to her aides. Then the door slid closed, and Scootaloo was left alone.

For a moment, Scootaloo just stared at the wall. On some level, she had wanted to be yelled at. Chastised, demoted, punished, just like any other captain in the fleet would be. Instead, it had been Trixie who had received the brunt of Rainbow Dash’s rage for no fault of her own. Scootaloo, like always, was just forgiven. No punishment, no loss. She was not a captain to Rainbow Dash, not a sailor. She was just her sister, and would always be just a sister, and that was the worst place to be in. Scootaloo felt terrible, not knowing if she was being ungrateful for her unique status but wishing she could just be ordinary.

Worse, she knew things she had never wanted to know. Not just about Cores, or about the mission. She could have gotten over those things. What bothered her was what she now knew about Rainbow Dash. Scootaloo knew, of course, that Rainbow Dash was right. Rainbow Dash was her hero, and she was always right.

Scootaloo slowly lowered her head against the table and groaned.

“I never wanted any of this,” she said, minutes too late. “I just wanted you, Rainbow Dash. I love you.” She closed her eyes, trying to make the feeling of heaviness in her chest go away. “All I ever wanted to do was make you proud of me. But you’re right. You’re always right.”

Then she fell silent, waiting on the verge of crying for the sadness to go away or to pour out of her. Neither happened, and she was left alone in the darkness of the empty room.

Chapter 15: Questions

Outside the ship, the wind continued to blow. Starlight stared out the window, watching the thick red gas swirling by at blinding speed and listening to the distant sepulchral creaks of the ship as it settled under the pressure of the atmosphere outside. Occasionally a flash of light would struggle to streak though the murky distance, a lightning bolt that would be followed with muffled thunder heard through the glass and steel of Armchair’s body.

In a way, it was terrifying that such a storm could even exist, but stranger still that from a distant the gas giant had looked so peaceful at a distance, a red and tan marble floating in the light of a distant, harsh sun. At the same time, Starlight felt oddly secure. Even as damaged as he was, Armchair was still secure enough to keep the storm outside and them safe within.

A clicking of heavy clawsteps came from down the hall, and Starlight waited. She did not need to turn her head to know that Sjdath was approaching.

Sjdath eventually came to a stop near Starlight. She looked down, and then out the window.

“I know,” she said. “This is bisulney. Completely insane. Sometimes I wonder, what did Cerberus do to her to make her come up with ideas like this? But in all honesty, it works. Their ship could be ten feet away from us in that soup and it would never see us. That is, if something that large could survive the gravity sheer. Which it can’t.”

“Have you made any progress on figuring out where exactly we are?”

“Somewhat.” Sjdath opened her omnitool. “Some backwater in baterian space. How we got here, though, I have no idea. In some ways, I don’t want to look.”

“Why?”

“Because of what I keep finding. The mass corridor was already collapsing when we started to pass through it. We barely pulled through. The relay must have been destroyed the instant it fired…and Armchair…”

“I haven’t heard him speak.”

“Because he can’t. Not now. The damage to his body is…extensive. Arachne is already working at full speed to restore him.”

“And you?”

“I have had…other concerns.”

“How is Si’y doing?”

“He is strong for a man with no spine. It is why I keep him around. He will heal.”
“And you?”

Sjdath put her hand on her newly thickened and mottled skin, specifically on one of the still visible circular scars. “Better. Much better. In fact, better than I ever have. My stem cell profile is that of a six-month old. Something in that weapon…I thought I was too old to adapt.”

Sjdath trailed off, and the two of them stood in silence for a moment.

“You know why I’m here,” said Sjdath at last.

“It’s time, isn’t it?”

Sjdath nodded. “Come. We need to meet Fenok.”

Starlight sighed, and then turned away from the window. She fell into step with Sjdath and they walked together through the dim halls lit by the luminescence of atmosphere outside, the upper winds of a planet hundreds of times larger than any world with a hope of supporting life. The only sound was that of the ever-present wind and their footsteps against the metal below.

Together, they moved into an inner part of the ship. There, Fenok and Jack were already waiting for them.

As they approached, Jack turned toward them. “Still wearing the suit, Star?”

“Still going topless, Jack?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t,” sighed Fenok. “Not that your tattoos are unpleasant, but, you know, it sets a bad example for Zedok.”

“You don’t complain to me about that,” said Sjdath, somewhat annoyed.

“Yeah. There’s a reason for that.” Fenok opened his omnitool and started walking. The others followed him.

“So our patient is finally waking up,” said Jack.

“Yes. I tapered off her anesthesia. She should be regaining consciousness any minute.”

Starlight sensed a hesitation in his voice. “Something is wrong.”

Fenok looked down at her. “Yeah. Yeah it is.”

“What?” said Jack.

“On her physical examination…well, she’s not doing good.”

Starlight felt her breath catch. “We didn’t- -”

“Oh, no,” said Fenok. “She was like this long before we got to her. Years. Decades, even.”

“What’s wrong with her?” asked Starlight, firmly.

“Well, with her head and spine, noting. Except that’s all she has.”

The others stopped. “What?” said Jack in disbelief.

“Exactly as I told you,” said Fenok. “Look, I didn’t believe it at first either, but it’s true. Head, spine, part of an upper torso, and a few fragments of organs. That’s all she has. The rest is some kind of cybernetic system.”

“You mean…like the implant on my back?”

“More than that. This isn’t implants, it’s a friggin casing. And weirder? I have no idea how it works. There’s no power system, no electronics, nothing. It’s linked straight to her nerves but…”

“But what?” said Jack.

“It’s powered directly by her biotics. That’s the only way I can imagine how her body was supposed to work.” He looked up at Sjdath. “I hope you had better luck with her exoskeleton.”

“No,” said Sjdath. “I went over it from top to bottom. And it is just as you say. Clockwork.”

“Clockwork?” said Jack.

“Clockwork, pistons, gears. Not an ounce of electronics, computers, mass effect equipment- -nothing that we consider remotely modern technology. It is indeed well made, but it is well made for about two thousand years ago.” She paused and looked down at Starlight, then quickly back to Jack. “Just like their ship was…”

“So she’s just a severed head in a robotic body?” asked Jack.

The others were silent for a moment. “Well…she has a spine, too,” added Fenok.

“Fine,” said Jack, pushing past Fenok. “I just needed to know which parts of her I can break.”

Jack stormed off, and Starlight trotted after her. They quickly reached the area where the pony Lyra was being held. Standing outside the door was Zedok, and floating beside her, Si’y without his armor.

Starlight could not help but stare for a moment. This was the first time she had seen what Si’y actually looked like without his metal coating. He was oddly pink and smooth, and Starlight thought that was really strange. She just could not imagine a hanar not covered in metal and wielding a ridiculous quantity of firearms.

“Si’y,” said Sjdath. “You’re up.”

“This one has repaired its mass-effect levitation system,” said Si’y. Starlight was surprised to see that his upper body flashed when he spoke. “This one’s suit, however…that will take more time to repair. This one apologizes for appearing before Captain Sjdath and its other associates in a nude form.”

“Don’t be,” said Sjdath, apparently smiling beneath her respirator mask and adjusting the valve. “Your tentacles are a lot thicker than I expected, Sianiris.”

Si’y’s color darkened. “This one- -thanks you.”

Sjdath looked him directly into where his eyes probably would have been. “Frankly, I think that you are wasting your talents on the prostituka.”

“This one- -this one- -this one- -”

“Eew!” said Zedok, shuddering.

“Come see me later about an ‘advance’ on your pay,” said Sjdath. “But right now, I work to do.”

“Finally,” said Zedok, pushing herself off the wall she had been leaning on.

“No,” said Jack, pushing her back. “You stay out here.”

“But- -but why?”

“Because I’m about to do some things that you probably shouldn’t see.”

“This one shall remain outside as well,” said Si’y. “It would not be proper etiquette for the honored enemy to see this one in its present state.”

“Fine,” said Jack, pressing her hand against the door control panel. The door hissed open, and Jack turned back to Starlight. “Star?”

“I’m going in,” she said. “I have to hear what she has to say.”

Despite this reassurance, more to herself than anybody else, Starlight hesitated for a moment at the threshold to the door. Then, bracing herself, she entered. Almost as soon as she did, she began to wonder if she had made the wrong choice.

The room was little more than a windowless storage closet, and the teal pony sat on the far side, chained to a wall. Her body was not in good shape, and Starlight momentarally felt sick at the sight of her. Lyra was missing one foreleg, and the plating on much of the rest of her body had been removed, revealing the gears and metal frame that allowed her limbs to move. Inside her open chest, Starlight could see the remnants of organs connected to numerous thin, glass-like tubes filled with red liquid that fed from the junction that sat on what had once been her upper torso. Most of the machinery in Lyra’s body was static, but Starlight could see one organ that was moving: a mechanical heart, constantly beating.

Logically, Starlight knew that Lyra was mostly robotic. Emotionally, though, it sickened her to see a pony in this state. Lyra was the first pony Starlight had ever seen, save for the distant and confused memories of her past. She had hoped that finally meeting one of her own people would be a much more joyous experience, an affirmation that she was not alone. Instead, she got this.

Lyra appeared unconscious, and Sjdath approached her, adjusting a collar that had been placed around Lyra’s neck. Lyra groaned and moved weakly, but did not resist “It is good,” she said.

Fenok raised his left arm and opened his omnitool. “I am going to administer a stimulation,” he said, tapping a single button on omnitool.

Lyra suddenly jerked and lifted her head, her eyes wide and confused. She took a long, deep gasp as several valves opened and closed in her open torso, and then looked around.

The first person that Lyra looked to was Starlight. Lyra’s eyes narrowed with hate, and her horn ignited orange, preparing for attack- -only for the magic glow to suddenly collapse as a similar burst of orange light poured out of Lyra’s collar, causing her to scream in surprise and pain.

“What- -what have you done to me?” she demanded. “My magic- -”

“Won’t work,” said Sjdath. She leaned down and looked into Lyra’s eye. “This system was designed by Cerberus to contain HER.” She pointed at Jack. “And if it held her, I sincerely doubt you will be able to escape.”

Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “So be it, you hideous primitive.” She struggled slightly against her chains, but quickly found that they were threaded through her limbs themselves. She could not move more than a few inches from the wall. Then she stopped, assessing the situation and looking around the room. “Captured, I suppose.” She looked up at Jack. “You should just have killed me.”

“Oh, I still might,” said Jack. She stepped forward and crouched down in front of Lyra. “But to be honest, I think it’s better this way.” Jack stood, and then swiftly punched Lyra in the side of the face.

“JACK!” gasped Starlight.

“Now I get to make you talk.”

Lyra, whose head had been turned sideways by the blow, spit out some blood and part of a tooth. Then she smiled and slowly turned back to Jack. “Do you really think an evolutionary failure like you can get anything out of me? This isn’t my first rodeo.”

Jack struck Lyra again, this time in the other side of the face, and followed with another blow. Lyra took a moment to breath, and then looked up, still smiling, her nose leaking a thin stream of blood. “You hit…like a colt…”

“Oh yeah?” said Jack, oddly calm. Then she laughed- -a sound that terrified Starlight with how cold it was, and how oddly sincere it became. “You might be right. I’m not as young as I used to be. And definitly a lot less patient.” She reached down and grabbed Lyra’s horn, squeezing it hard. For the first time, Lyra winced as if in pain, and Jack pushed her head back. “So I guess I should work smarter, not harder.”

Jack pushed Lyra’s head to the side and released her. She slowly crossed the room to a small counter. Starlight could not see what was on it, but she heard metal clanking as Jack picked through the objects. Then, suddenly, Jack stopped and turned around. Starlight and Lyra both saw the pair of pliers in her hand.

“Not much left of you, is there?” said Jack, calmly walking across the room toward Lyra. “But you still have one thing, I think.” She crouched down in front of Lyra and reached out, putting a single finger on the tip of Lyra’s horn. “Fenok tells me that this is how you control your biotics. It must have an amazing number of nerves to give you that much control, doesn’t it? I bet yanking it out sure would hurt.”

Lyra’s expression remained stony, but Starlight saw her expression flicker just enough to betray her fear. The mechanical device that served as her heart suddenly started beating faster.

“Last chance,” said Jack. “Tell me what you want with Starlight. Why you attacked us. What you did to her.”

Lyra reared back and spit blood into Jack’s face. “Buck you, primitive,” she said.

“Fine,” said Jack, lowering her soiled goggles. She grabbed Lyra’s horn hard, causing the unicorn to grit her teeth against the discomfort. Then she lifted the pliers and put them around the base of Lyra’s horn, taking time to show Lyra exactly what she was doing. “What do you think? Pull it straight out, or twist it nice and slow?”

“Jack, no!” cried Starlight, rushing to Jack’s side. “Not her horn! You can’t- -”

“Watch me,” said Jack, tightening the pliers.

Starlight was about to pull Jack back when Fenok stepped past her. He grabbed Jack by the shoulder and threw her back. The pliers clattered to the floor.

“What the hell, Fenok?!”

“The horn is connected to her frontal lobe,” said Fenok, sounding exasperated. “It goes into her BRAIN. If you pull it out, you’ll lobotomize her!”

“You were there, Fenok. She attacked us. Tried to hurt Zedok and Starlight- -and she DID hurt Sjdath and Si’y. You know she deserves it.”

“But if you pull out the brain through the forehead, we do not get information,” said Sjdath. “Not that I care. But here.” She opened her omnitool. “I have a modified program for a neural shock that will stimulate the pain receptors. All of them. At once. I’ve tried it, it’s pretty potent. She will probably survive, too.”

“Probably?” said Starlight, feeling increasingly uneasy.

“It works differently on different species. The last quarian I tried it on died instantly. Because they are genetic failures. No big loss, though.”

“Go ahead,” said Lyra, defiantly. “And when I get out of this, I’ll shoot you again. This time in the face so you stay dead. Don’t worry, it won’t make you any less ugly.”

“I don’t like this,” said Starlight. “I mean…she’s just a pony.”

“I agree,” said Fenok, shaking his head. “You barbarians…let a krogan show you how to do an interrogation.”

“Fenok…”

Fenok crossed the room and acquired a small but well reinforced stool. He dragged it across the floor and set it down in front of Lyra. He then sat down on it and leaned forward toward her. Lyra looked back up at him, her eyes alive with resistance.

“You’re a male,” she observed. She turned toward Jack and Sjdath, who had taken up waiting on the far end of the room near the tool table. “And I thought you couldn’t sink any lower. Letting a male on your crew…” She turned back to Fenok. “I bet you belong to the blue one, don’t you?”

“She’s my daughter.”

Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “Then she is a bigger pervert than I thought.”

Fenok frowned, and lifted his hand. Starlight immediately felt nervous and afraid, not knowing what he was going to do to poor Lyra.

Instead of striking her, though, he pressed one of his fingers against his thumb and very gently flicked Lyra’s nose.

“Boop. Bad pony.”

Lyra’s eyes widened in shock, and then she lunged forward. “How DARE you!” she screamed. “I am a one hundred and forty seven year old warrior! I have seen more battles than you could imagine and killed more ponies than you can COUNT! Torture me if you must, but I DEMAND that you treat me with the respect I’ve earned! I will not stand to be booped!”

“I’m sorry,” said Fenok. “I can see how that would be insulting to you. I didn’t mean any disrespect.” He paused. “Your name is Lyra, is that correct?”

“What do you think?”

“I think it is. My name is Vuhlig Fenok.”

“And I don’t give a rat’s butt.”

“Boop her again,” said Jack.

“If you do, I will bite you.”

“Calm down,” said Fenok. “I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to talk.”

“Talk? At least the ugly one was trying. You’re just wasting my time.”

“You’re not going anywhere. And neither am I. I think we have time. And if you don’t want to say anything, that’s okay.” Fenok opened his omnitool. “When Starlight pulled you back to the ship,” he said, slowly as though he were absentmindedly speaking while doing something more important. “We pulled that robot suit you had up too.”

Lyra did not respond. She just looked to her side, glaring at Starlight.

“I took a look at it,” said Fenok. “And, I admit, I’m no engineer. Not like Sjdath is. But I know quality when I see it.”

“You primitives couldn’t possibly understand the technology.”

“No, but I do know that it was in a lot of battles. You’ve had it for a long time. Dents, scraped paint, laserburns…but there was one spot where you never let the paint fade.” Fenok held out his arm and projected a holographic projection of a piece of plating from Lyra’s robotic suit. On it was painted a trio of colorful objects. To Starlight, they looked like blue and yellow bows, or perhaps wrapped candies.

Lyra’s eyes flicked toward the hologram, and as much as she tried, a hint of recognition crossed her face. “So what. It’s my crest.”

“No, it isn’t,” said Fenok. “Yours is a harp. It was etched into your flank plate.”

“It’s a lyre,” said Lyra. “Not a harp.”

“Which leads me to believe that this is somebody else’s symbol,” said Fenok, slowly and calmly. “And it may not look like it, but I was a soldier once. A long time ago. I recognize a memorial when I see it.”

Lyra looked up at him, and then at the wall to her left. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Fenok paused, and then groaned as he leaned back, sitting erect on the stool. “I have a story. One I don’t tell much. Would you like to hear it?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really, no. But I think it will help us understand each other a little better.” Fenok began: “You’ve met my daughter, Zedok. What you can’t imagine is just how much she looks like her mother. Her name was Alaelia. I met her almost two decades ago, on Omega. She was a lot like you, in some ways. A warrior to the core. Reckless, dangerous, lethal…the kind to laugh as she ran into battle, but deep down, she was so sad. You could see it in her eyes, sometimes. How much she was hurting. It was a mismatched pairing, I guess. Me, probably the only krogan pacifist, trying to set up a medical practice, and her, working for Aria. But somehow we fell in love.”

“That’s beautiful,” said Starlight. Fenok looked back at her and smiled. Then he turned back to Lyra.

“She actually listened to me. To what I thought. Nobody ever did that. On Tuchanka, I was a freak. Even Okeer, who was like a father to me, tried to kill me when he found out what I was. But she actually understood.”

“So what?” said Lyra, harshly.

“So? We left Omega. She returned to Thessia, and I went with her. We got married. We were there seventeen years ago, when the Reapers came. We served in the evacuation, but somehow we both got out alive. We survived, and when it was over, Zedok was born.”

“But something happened.”

Fenok nodded. “When the Reapers left, the war ended, but the violence didn’t. There was a rebellion, and they called Alaelia back into service as a commando. I begged her not to go, to stay with me…but she went anyway.”

“And she didn’t come back.”

Fenok shook his head. “No. No she didn’t.” Fenok put his hand to his face and closed his yes. “Fourteen years. Fourteen years, and sometimes, I still look to the door, expecting her to walk in, smiling, as if nothing happened. I still wake up alone, and I reach out for her…but she’s not there. She never will be. Never again.” He opened his eyes and looked at Lyra, who was now watching him with rapt attention. “So forgive me if I can say I understand what it’s like to lose somebody.”

“Fenok,” said Starlight, putting her hoof on his side. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Ms. Glimmer. There’s nothing you could have done. Nothing anyone could have. Except me…”

“The mark,” said Lyra. “You’re right.” She sighed and looked down at the floor. “It belonged to my lover. My Bon Bon.”

“What happened?” asked Starlight.

Lyra pulled her remaining foreleg forward. The chain rattled, but she did not try to break free. She just looked at it. “This. This happened.” She leaned back and looked at the ceiling. “It was back during the war. For centuries, Equestria has been at war with the Crystal Galaxy and the Dark Empress Cadence. My Bon Bon was a spy, an agent. You wouldn’t have known from looking at her. Hay, I didn’t know until years into our relationship. But I should have. The way she moved, with precision, confidence, always knowing exactly what to do. She was an earthy, and almost a century younger than me…and I guess it sounds idiotic, but I looked up to her.

“But then they sent her in. And something went wrong. She got caught. So they sent my unit in to get her out.”

“But you…she didn’t make it,” said Starlight. “Did she?”

Lyra shook her head. “We were massacred. When we got there, she was…she was already gone. Damn it, I think they already knew. They sent us in anyway.” Lyra let out along sigh. “They knew I would do anything for her, that I would push straight through to Cadence herself if it meant saving my Bon Bon…and I led my mares to their grave. For nothing. There were no survivors. Not even me.” She looked down at her body again, and her tone hardened. “But that’s now how Equestria works. You don’t get to die unless they give you permission. And they made me into…this.”

Lyra slammed her hoof into the metal floor, and her voice started to waiver. “I tried! I really did! But it’s my fault! It’s my fault I lost her! The only mare I ever loved, the only thing in my whole bucking life that mattered, and I failed! If I had just been faster, or stronger, of if I had held on a little longer…”

Fenok reached out toward Lyra’s head, and Lyra turned away sharply, trying to defend her horn. Fenok did not reach for it, though. Instead, he gently laid his hand on her head and ran it through her hair. Lyra turned toward him, her eyes wide and watering.

“It’s not your fault, Lyra,” he said. “You hear me? You did everything you could, gave everything you could. You did nothing wrong. You’re a good girl, Lyra.”

Lyra’s eyes quivered and she sniffed, and tears started to roll down her face.

“I’m a- -hundred and thirty seven- -year old warrior- -a Questlord- -I’m not- -crying- -”

Then she began to weep, and Fenok got down of his stool and hugged her. She hugged back and screamed, not in pain but in anger and sadness, long inarticulate sounds of rage and a hurt she had held onto for so long.

“Goddamn it,” said Jack. “I hate paragons…”

Fenok ignored her, and continued to wait patiently until Lyra was done.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“No,” said Lyra, wiping her eyes with her remaining hoof. “But I’m better.”

“You don’t have to tell us anything if you don’t want to, but it really would be helpful if you could.”

“Yeah,” said Lyra. “Yeah…it’s not like I know that much, but I guess I can help.”

“What do you want with Starlight?” asked Jack.

Lyra looked up at her, still somewhat defiant. “She is property of the Equestrian government. My ‘commanding officer’ is attempting to retrieve her. As simple as that.”

“How can I be property?” asked Starlight.

Lyra turned to her. “You mean you really don’t know? You’re a Core.”

“A core of what?”

“Of a ship. A living source of magic. A ship isn’t anything without a Core, just a piece of metal and stone. It’s the Core that makes it move.”

“Wait,” said Sjdath, sounding intrigued but also incredulous. “You mean your power source for a vessel is not a mass core but rather…a living biotic?”

“Horse. Shit,” said Jack. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“No, that’s how technology works. Through magic. That’s the way it has been since Starswirl the Bearded created the first Core and brought ponies into space.”

“And I’m telling you that’s impossible. No biotic is that powerful, not even me. You’re telling me that ship, that real big one that chased us out of the Perseus Veil, THAT thing was powered by biotics?”

“I didn’t actually see it, you know that, right?”

“It was big,” said Starlight, softly. “Immense…but not just its size. What it felt like. It came in a flash of purple light. I…I don’t think it used a mass relay either.”

“Purple?” said Lyra. She smiled, and then laughed.

“What’s so funny?” demanded Sjdath.

“You really stepped in it now. That ship was probably the Harmony, the flagship of the Equestrian navy. And yes, it is powered by ONE being. The Core of the Harmony is the Fourth Goddess, Princess Twilight Sparkle. If they came…” She turned toward Starlight. “You must be really important.”

“What do they want from me?” said Starlight. “What were you trying to do to me?” She was becoming increasingly agitated.

“You are a piece of equipment, part of a damaged ship. I don’t know more than that. What do they want to do? I’d say they want to put you back in there.”

“But I don’t want to go back,” said Starlight, quickly.

“You don’t get it. You don’t have a choice. You’re not considered, you know, alive. You are property. Stolen property. Nothing more. Not even a real pony…”

Jack stepped forward suddenly and Fenok was forced to stop her. “She is NOT property,” she hissed, “and there is NO WAY I’m going to let you take her.”

“You don’t understand. You primitives don’t have a choice. This isn’t an ordinary Core we’re talking about, here.”

“I’m right here,” said Starlight. “And I have a name.”

“Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds? But that’s not the point. Contrary to how it looks, I don’t actually care either way. But they care. And they will not stop until they have you back.”

“But their ship is trapped,” said Sjdath. “They destroyed their mass relay, the only way out of that system. It would take centuries at light speed to get to- -”

“I don’t even know what a mass relay is,” said Lyra. “If that’s how you primitives move between systems, it doesn’t matter. The Harmony has an internal teleportation capacity. It can go wherever it wants to in an instant.”

“Teleportation? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? I wouldn’t believe you…except…” Sjdath looked down at Starlight, and Starlight understood. She had already teleported them once, and it had not even been difficult.

“Your galaxy hasn’t even mastered the most limited aspects of magic,” said Lyra. “For a civilization that actually has hands, everything you do is simple, childish. You’re living on borrowed time.”

“Then we will fight them.”

“You couldn’t even fight me.”

“No,” said Starlight. “I don’t want to go back…but…”

“But what?” Jack turned toward Starlight, angrily. “You can’t be thinking about going back to them?”

“But if they’re going to hurt you, then maybe- -”

“No!” said Jack. “That’s not how it works!”

Starlight frowned, and turned back to Lyra. The teal pony stared back, her sighted eye almost as cold and empty as her hazy blind one. Starlight knew that she was right. The things that Lyra was saying, they made sense to her, as if she had once known them long ago but forgotten them. She understood what she was supposed to be, but also knew that she had not always been that way. They had done something to her to make her a Core, but she could not fully remember what. She did not want to.

“Fine,” she said. She turned around swiftly and opened the door, walking out.

“Hey,” said Zedok, who had been leaning close to the door and listening, futilely. “How’d it go?”

Starlight did not answer, and Zedok looked to Si’y, concerned. Si’y just shrugged. Starlight continued down the hallway until she heard heavy footsteps behind her.

“Hey!” called Jack, running to catch up to Starlight.

Starlight turned around quickly and responded far more angrily than she had thought she would. “What the hell was that?”

Jack froze, slightly taken aback by Starlight’s reaction. “What are you talking about?”

“You were going to pull of her horn! What is wrong with you?!”

“Me? We needed that information. They were going to take you away- -”

“I already knew that! I was part of an engine for years, decades even, and they’re trying to put me back. They stole my life. I get it- -but you didn’t need to do that to her!”

“You know she deserved it.”

Starlight groaned angrily. “You don’t understand! It’s her HORN!”

“Star, I don’t understand why you’re getting worked up over this…”

“Why? Because I have a horn too! I thought you of all people wound understand, but I guess I was wrong. Why didn’t you just rape her while you were at it?”

The atmosphere of the room suddenly became icy, and Starlight immediately realized that she had said something wrong.

“Don’t you dare talk to me about rape,” said Jack, her voice threatening and low. “You’re lucky that it was US that found you. And I wasn’t that lucky.”

“I know you’ve been through a lot. But that doesn’t give you the right to touch a pony’s horn.”

Jack leaned forward, staring Starlight in the eyes. “I will touch whoever’s horn I want to. I will touch YOUR horn if I want to!”

Starlight stepped back, shocked, and Jack’s expression changed. This time, it was her who realized that she had said something wrong.

“You know,” whispered Starlight. “I would have let you. If you had asked. Because you’re my friend. Or I thought you were. I’m starting to think I don’t even know you at all.”

“I never claimed to be a good person,” said Jack. “I’m not. I never was. But I’m not going to let them take you, Star. I’m not going to let them use you like they tried to use me. I don’t care who gets in my way. Human, pony, whatever they are, they will die.”

“I didn’t ask for that,” said Starlight. “They used me as a weapon, but I never wanted to hurt anybody. I still don’t want to. And having you kill people for me doesn’t make it right.”

“I stopped caring what was right a long time ago.”

“Then maybe you need to remember. That’s what I thought you were trying to do.” Starlight turned around and started walking. “You can sleep by yourself tonight.”

“Star…”

“Just leave me alone!”

As Starlight walked away, Jack almost followed her. Instead, though, she just took a deep breath, and then slammed her fist into the wall, producing a deep dent. If anybody knew how Starlight was feeling, it was her. Afraid, confused, angry, Jack knew it all.

That did not make her feel any better, though.

Chapter 16: Just Property

The internal lights had been dimmed. It was night, and Trixie walked quickly through the halls of the RENS Rainbow Dash. Moving through the darkened passages felt strange to her, as moving freely always did. She not only knew the layout of the vessel; she WAS the vessel. Walking inside it was somewhat dizzying, as if she had been given the opportunity to walk through herself.

With this knowledge, Trixie was able to quickly find the captain’s quarters. When she reached the door, she straightened what little there was of her mane and her docked tail. Then she knocked on the door.

At first there was no response, but then she heard souond from the other side. The door cracked open, and Scootaloo looked up at her.

“Captain,” said Trixie. “I heard you wanted to…what the hay are you wearing?”

Scootaloo looked down at herself. For some reason, she was wearing the undergarments of her landing suit: four sheer socks, panties, and a small tight vest.

“Do you like it?” she said.

“Um…sure, I guess.” Trixie herself had not bothered to wear her normal hat or cape. She trusted captain Scootaloo, and didn’t feel a need to cover up her modifications.

“Come in,” said Scootaloo, opening the door completely. Trixie smiled and entered. The room was much larger than she had expected, and lit with soft light.

“Having trouble sleeping, captain.”

“You can just call me Scootaloo, Trixie. You know that.”

“Oh. Right, Scootaloo.”

“And a little bit, I guess. Just nervous. What about you?”

“I don’t sleep. I don’t think Cores have to, as long as we spend time in...well…the core.”

“Hey, do you want something to drink?”

“It’s not that ryncol stuff, is it? Because I’m not that kind of engine.”

Scootaloo chuckled. She crossed the room and opened a cabinet, pulling out a bottle and a pair of glasses. She poured out the liquid into them; it was a bright amber color, and even from across the room Trixie could smell that it was cider.

“Here,” said Scootaloo, picking up one glass on her hoof and holding it out.

Trixie hesitated. “I don’t know. I mean…isn’t it kind of a waste for me to have it?”

“It’s not a waste,” said Scootaloo, firmly. “If it wasn’t for you, we never would have gotten this far. I just wish I could give you more than a glass of cider.”

Trixie smiled and took the glass in her magic, pulling it over to her. She put her hoof against her neck, plugging the input holes in her esophagus so that nothing would leak out when she swallowed, and then took a sip.

“Wow,” she said. “It’s so sweet!”

Scootaloo nodded, and then took a sip from her own glass.

“Aren’t you a little young for that?” said Trixie.

“I’m a captain in the navy,” said Scootaloo, downing most of the glass and wiping her mouth on her stocking. “I don’t think anypony cares at this point.”

Scootaloo paused for a long moment, and then looked up at Trixie. “Trixie…can I ask you a favor?”

“Of course,” said Trixie. “Um…what is it?”

Scootaloo smiled nervously and pulled something out of a wardrobe. “Can you put these on?”

“Um…”

Scootaloo gave the items to Trixie. There were two of them: a rainbow wig, and a set of long rainbow tail extensions.

“Sure,” said Trixie. She was not sure why Scootaloo wanted her to wear these things, but she liked dressing up. So she put on the wig and the tail. They fit oddly well, and the covered some of the parts of her body that she was ashamed of, even if they looked silly.

For comical effect, Trixie assumed an overly confident pose. “Look! I’m Fleet Commander Rainbow Dash!” She raised her hoof, as if pointing out over one of the horizons she only distantly recalled from her youth. “The fastest pony in all of Equestria!” Trixie’s eyes widened. “Oops…that didn’t come out right.”

“Hey,” said Scootaloo, shrugging. “It’s not untrue.”

“Oh.”

Scootaloo started laughing, and then so did Trixie. For Trixie, it was one of only a few times in her life where she ever had since they had made her the way she was.

When they finally calmed down, Scootaloo walked across the room and opened a small command interface. She tapped at it with her hoof, and a light tune started to come out.

“Music?” said Trixie.

Scootaloo approached Trixie and held out her hoof. At her range, Trixie realized that Scootaloo was wearing some kind of perfume. It smelled like a flower that Trixie could not quite recall.

“Do you want to dance?”

“Dance? Really?”

“Do you want to or not?”

“Well, sure. Why not?” Trixie reached out and took Scootaloo’s hoof. The pair of them stepped into the center of the room and faced each other. The song was slow, so Trixie assumed it was some kind of slow dance. She and Scootaloo immediately began taking the prescribed steps for such a song, stepping from side to side in a swaying circle.

“I’m kind of surprised you can dance,” said Trixie, putting her hoof against Scootaloo’s and turning in a bouncing circle to the beat of the music. “You don’t seem like the type.”

“Me? How do you even know how? You’re a Core!”

“Back when I was a filly, my dad taught me,” said Trixie, disengaging from Scootaloo as they both turned in tight circles and faced each other again. “I wonder if he’s still alive…”

“I’m sure he is, somewhere,” said Scootaloo. “And he’d be proud of you.”

Trixie smiled, even though she felt so sad. She did not know why. She took several more steps in the dance, but then Scootaloo seemed to misstep, pushing Trixie off balance. She fell backward, but fortunately landed on Scootaloo’s bed.

“Oop!” she said, smiling. “Scootaloo, you have to be more careful.”

“Oh, I will be,” said Scootaloo, climbing onto the bed.

“Um…Scootaloo,” said Trixie, still smiling but suddenly feeling nervous. “What are we going to do on the bed?”

“You’ll see.” Scootaloo leaned forward, and before Trixie knew what was happening, Scootaloo was on top of her, pressing their mouths together. Trixie felt Scootaloo’s tongue shoved into her throat and tried to cry out in fear, surprise, and confusion. She tried to pull away, but Scootaloo had already put her foreleg being her head, holding her in place.

Scootaloo, meanwhile, was trying to focus, trying to imagine away Trixie’s horn and to imagine that there were a pair of soft but oh so strong wings on the larger mare’s back instead of exposed metal vertebral implants.

This was not something Scootaloo had ever done before, and her heart was beating so fast that she thought it hurt. For some reason, her tiny, flightless wings were standing on end, painfully erect, and she felt her hips moving almost involuntarily. It should have felt good, but for some reason, it just felt wrong.

There was no way it could be wrong, though. Rainbow Dash had told her that Trixie was just property, a piece of equipment. She was not really a pony, so this was okay. It had to be okay, because Rainbow Dash was always right. Doing this was the only way for Scootaloo to prove that to herself, and in the process to get what she had always wanted from Rainbow Dash. In some strange, illogical part of her filly mind, she perhaps even thought that if she practiced on an inanimate machine like Trixie, Rainbow Dash might finally see her as worthy of the relationship that Scootaloo truly wanted.

“Scoot…scootaloo,” said Trixie, her body freezing as Scootaloo pulled her lips away from Trixie’s and moved onto her neck. “I don’t…I don’t want to do this…”

“Shut it, Core,” said Scootaloo. “Just be quiet and don’t move.” Scootaloo reached between Trixie’s legs, and Trixie’s eyes widened in fear.

“No!” she cried, pushing Scootaloo away. Scootaloo, being much smaller than Trixie, was easily thrown onto the floor with a loud thud. Trixie, shaking, pulled herself out of the bed. Her wig and false tail fell away as she ran to the door.

“Stop right there!” cried Scootaloo, standing. “You get back in that bed RIGHT NOW! Do you think you can just refuse? You’re part of my ship, MY property! I can do whatever I want to you!”

Trixie’s eyes widened and filled with tears. “Why…why would you say something like that?”

The pain in her voice instantly neutralized Scootaloo’s anger, and Scootaloo realized that she had made a horrible mistake.

Trixie, still shaking and weak from fear, looked Scootaloo in the eye. “I thought…I thought you were my friend! My only friend! You…you…”

“Trixie,” said Scootaloo, feeling tears welling in her own eyes.

Trixie’s expression hardened. Though she was still crying, she now glared at Scootaloo. “And I really cared about you! I gave you everything I had! Do you have any idea how many times I thought about ending it? About walking out the airlock, or drowning myself in the hydroponics bay, just so I wouldn’t have to go back, back to that pain and darkness...but I never did! Do you have any idea why?”

“Trixie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- -”

“I did it FOR YOU! All the pain, all the fear, all of it- -I kept going back for YOU! Because you were my friend, the only pony who ever treated me like I was a pony too! You let me out, to walk around, to breathe real air, eat real food, to talk to you and Roseluck and the others- -do you have any idea how happy I was when I opened my eyes for the first time in eighteen years and SAW?” She stepped back to the door as Scootaloo took another step closer. “But I should have known,” she said. “I should have known…I wasn’t your friend. You were just going to use me, like they all did. I was just some Rainbow Dash surrogate for your fetish.”

“It isn’t like that!”

“Isn’t it? I’m just property to you! You’re just like the rest of them! I don’t know why I ever trusted you!”

By this time, they were both crying. Scootaloo dropped to her knees.

“Please, Trixie, I’m sorry- -”

“Save your breath,” said Trixie. The tone in her voice scared Scootaloo even more now. Trixie no longer sounded angry, or sad. Just tired. She pushed open the door. “I can’t…I can’t do this anymore. All I ever wanted was…no. Nevermind. I can’t have that. Not as a Core.” She looked away from Scootaloo. “I’m just a piece of disposable machinery. So I’m going back. I’m going to go back to being what I’m supposed to.” She looked down at Scootaloo. “I don’t ever want to see you again. Any of you. Never use the emergency release again. Just let me be what I was made to be. I can’t ever be a pony. Stop torturing me. And, captain.” She looked down at Scootaloo one last time. “I hope you never find that Core. So that she never has to go through…this.”

Then Scootaloo watched her go, heading back to the engine room. Scootaloo knew that this was the last time she would ever see Trixie, at least as a pony instead of as a part of the ship’s engine. She could always pull the release, for Trixie back- -but after what she had just done, there was no way she could ever bring herself to.

“Trixie,” said Scootaloo, barely in a whisper. “You were my friend…please come back.” She lowered her head against the floor and began crying silently. “What have I done?” She let out a low growl of anguish. “Why would I do that? What is WRONG with me?”

There was no response, of course. Not even the hum of the ship’s engines. Just the silence of an empty room. Once again, as she had been so many times in her short life, Scootaloo was alone.

Chapter 17: Answers

In a distant part of the galaxy, night had also fallen. Armchair’s lights had gone out for the night, and Starlight passed through the long, empty halls with only the sound of the endless wind outside for company. She did not even produce hoofsteps; not wanting to be heard, she instead chose to use her telekinesis to lift herself off the ground and to drift silently through the halls.

The only light was the dim glow of the gas giant atmosphere outside, and the shimmering light of Starlight’s magic as she effortlessly pulled herself along. In a way, it was calming. In an entirely different way, though, it was ominous and frightening.

Once again, Starlight had been unable to sleep. The dreams were getting worse. It seemed that as more magic she was able to use, the more her mind began to solidify and the memories became more real. The dreams, now, were far more complicated. They never started bad. They were happy, and Starlight remembered a pair of ponies that she understood to be her parents. She remembered them smiling, talking, and even what they smelled like, along with snippets of happy memories as a filly. She even remembered having a friend, a little orange colt who at the time had been so much better at magic than she was. For some reason, though, she could not recall what his name had been.

Then they always got worse. At first they had just been visions of being pulled away, screaming, afraid, and of the drill that put metal in her head. Now they were so much clearer. The knock at the door, the ponies coming through, all dressed in black uniforms. Of Starlight being taken away, crying for her parents as they were held back. Of being held down, having her spine opened and pulled out as she screamed for her mother to save her. The dreams had become too much for her.

So she decided to do what she could do, and what she had to do. Starlight moved through the ship until she came to a locked door and lowered herself to the floor. She opened her omnitool and entered the unlocking code. The door clinked as it released, and Starlight pushed it open.

“Lyra?” she said, poking her head in. “Are you awake?”

Lyra looked up from the inside of the room, at first looking surprised and angry, as if prepared to attack. When she realized that it was just Starlight, her expression became far more neutral.

“Oh, it’s just you, Core,” she said, sitting back down and returning to what she was doing.

“I have a name. Starlight Glimmer.”

Lyra looked up. “That is such a unicorn name.”

Starlight realized that Lyra was no longer chained to the wall, and that she was surrounded by neat piles of metal parts.

“Who gave you those?”

“The krogan,” said Lyra. “They’re mostly my parts.” She leaned down and picked up a plate in her teeth, attaching it back to herself and trying to work a tool with her one remaining hoof.

“I guess he really trusts you.”

“Not really,” said Lyra. “I mean, what do you think I’m going to do? Fix myself up and try to steal your ship? I have no idea how to pilot it.” She reached up at her collar. “And clearly I’m not allowed to use magic, either.”

“Here,” said Starlight. She reached out with her magic and picked up several of the parts. She pushed them together, her magic splitting apart and separating the pieces, recombining them in a swirling mass of metal. In seconds, she had constructed a mechanical foreleg.

Lyra took it with her other foreleg and inspected it.

“Nice work,” she said, nonchalantly. She then shoved the shoulder end of the limb into her open joint and winced in pain. “Buck,” she groaned as it connected. She then flexed it, watching the internal gears and mechanisms turning as the moved the new robotic limb.

“Does it hurt?”

“I’m more metal than I am pony,” said Lyra, darkly. “Everything hurts. All the time.” She picked up a piece of metal in her mouth and attached it to the new arm, forming part of the plating that was supposed to keep her internal organs safe. “So. You’ve come here to interrogate me, too?”

Starlight sat down against the wall across from Lyra. “No. But...I do have some questions.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I just want to know…our homeworld. What’s it like?”

Lyra paused and looked up at Starlight. “I don’t know. It’s a planet. Like any other, I guess. Trees, oceans, mountains. Tons of cities, mostly full of unicorns. All absurdly clean for some reason.” She shrugged and winced, grabbing her newly reattached shoulder. “Nothing special.”

“The air,” said Starlight. “When winter is just ending, and spring comes, is there a breeze that blows in? One that feels so warm, and smells…I don’t know how to describe it…”

“Like new life?”

“Yes.”

Lyra nodded slowly, and then sighed. “I know what you’re talking about. I remember how Bon Bon and I used to go to the park. We’d just sit there, for hours.” She smiled. “Sometimes not even talking. Just sitting. And there would be that smell. The green of the grass, the shade of the trees.” Lyra looked down at the metal parts of her body, and though still smiling, she looked so sad.

“I remember it,” said Starlight. “Not…not always. But in my dreams.”

“From before you were a Core.”

Starlight hesitated, and then nodded. Those memories felt so good- -but acknowledging them somehow terrified her. If the memories of her childhood home were true, then it meant that the other memories were real as well, something Starlight supposed that she had always known but did not like to admit to herself.

“You can’t go romanticizing it,” said Lyra, looking up and straight into Starlight’s dark blue eyes. “I left that planet decades ago, and never looked back. You need to do the same.”

“But why?”

“Because you can never go back. You’re a Core. Do you think ponies are just going to let you walk around freely and take in the sights?” Lyra picked up another piece of herself. “The instant they see you, they’ll take you away, and put you back in a ship’s core. And they’ll never let you see the light of day again until the day you die and they replace you like a dead battery.”

“But that’s not true,” said Starlight, standing up suddenly. “I’ve been thinking, and it’s obvious. Look around you! This ship doesn’t run on a Core. It runs on a mass core, something Arachne built. It’s not alive, just metal and element zero. If I could bring that technology back to Equestria- - how to mine eezio, how to build the mass cores, then they wouldn’t need ponies like me to power ships.” Starlight smiled, exited by the idea- -but quickly disheartened by the tired expression that Lyra gave her in return.

“If you had told me that two days ago, I might have believed you,” said Lyra after a long pause. “But then I saw what you did on that planet…and now I think I finally understand.”

“I didn’t do anything you couldn’t do.”

“My own road apples! I’m a tier two unicorn. That suit that you and your weakling friends destroyed? Three hundred years ago, when that was new, ten of them could have conquered a planet. And you just tore it apart like it was a toy.”

“You held your own, though.”

“Because the suit amplifies my power! But you…those implants aren’t amplifiers. They’re just ports. You did that all on your own. That much power…”

“So what? I’m still just an ordinary pony. I don’t care if I’m powerful, or if I’m a Core- -”

“You don’t, but they do. Don’t you get it? Unicorns on Equestria can barely lift a teacup with their magic, but they claim that the fact that they can even that means that they have a divine right to rule. You have enough magical potential to challenge a goddess. Do you really think they’d let you walk free?”
“I don’t understand.

“It’s why they make Cores. It has to be. You could walk up to them with a full schematic, a plan to create an entire fleet of ships like this, and do you know what they’d do? They’d lock you right back up.” Her eyes narrowed. “That much power…you’re a monster, Starlight Glimmer. An abomination.”

“No1 That can’t be true,” said Starlight, feeling all the excitement of her plan deflating. “It can’t! It’s not fair! I’m not a monster!”

“You think life is fair?” Lyra spread her forelegs. “Look at me! I should have died on that Crystal rock, but they wouldn’t let me!”

“But I’m just a pony! I can’t help what I am!”

“Do you think that changes anything? You’re a Core. You will NEVER be considered their equal.”

Starlight sat down and put her head between her hooves. “I didn’t ask for this,” she said, on the verge of tears. “I didn’t ask to be different…why did I have to be different? If I was just the same as the others, I would still be there, with my family and friends…I would have been happy…”

“Trust me, monster, you’re happier here,” said Lyra, leaning around herself and reattaching part of her flank. “Equestria is a corrupt mess, ruled by arrogant nobility and Princesses who don’t even give a buck about us mortals. At least here, you have these aliens. They at least care.”

Starlight looked up and wiped away her tears. “You don’t have a very high opinion of Equestria, do you?”

“No,” said Lyra. “But I’m not like you. You can’t go back. I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“There’s nothing for me there. And nothing for you.” Lyra sighed. “I’d tell you to run. Celestia, I wish I could. But you can’t. They WILL find you. I’m sorry, Core Starlight.” She looked Starlight in the eye. “Nothing stands against the Empire.”

Starlight just stared at her for a long moment. “Is a normal life too much to ask for?”

“For your people? Yes. I wish I could change it for you, but I can’t.”

“My people…” A new line of thought occurred to Starlight. She had never tended to think of herself as part of a group, except perhaps as a pony. Now she was coming to understand that, to them, she was not even that- -but that there were others like her. Every Equestrian ship had a pony like her in the core, a pony taken as a child and put in the core of the engine where they would never again be free. Starlight wondered how many there were, and came to realize just how lucky she was- -and just how horrible ponies truly were.

“Thank you,” she said at last.

“Don’t thank me for that. I only managed to tell you things you don’t want to hear.”

“But I needed to hear it.” Starlight looked up at Lyra and charged her horn. A blue mass effect field formed around Lyra’s collar.

“Wait a minute,” said Lyra, panicking. “If you try to do anything, the feedback- -”

With barely a modicum of effort, Starlight overloaded the collar’s internal systems. It fizzled and hissed as she pulled it off of Lyra.

Lyra rubbed her neck. “Why did you do that?”

“Let’s just say I don’t like the idea of treating a pony like a prisoner.”

“But you have a good reason to do it for me. I tried to kill you.”

“And if you try again, I can vaporize you with a thought.”

“True,” said Lyra, picking up several of her pieces in her orange magic and far more rapidly assembling herself. “Not that I have anything to try anyway. It may not look it, but I’m pretty neutral on this whole thing. Every ounce of patriotism and loyalty I had died with my Bon Bon. I’m a mercenary now.”

“Then talk to Sjdath. I don’t know, maybe she’s hiring.”

For the first time, Lyra looked somewhat intrigued. “Maybe I will…”

Starlight sat with Lyra little bit longer, but found that she had nothing more to say. So, without a word, she excused herself. Lyra did not seem to mind; she was too heavily focused on fine-tuning her joints and only managed to wave with one skeletal, robotic arm as Starlight departed.

As the door closed behind her, Starlight sighed, and just stood for a moment. She was tired, and she wanted to sleep, but with the dreams and what she had just been told, she knew she would not be able to. Perhaps not for a long time.

One of the shadows stirred, and Starlight became aware of Jack, leaning in the exact spot on the wall where Zedok had been waiting earlier that day.

“I know you’re there,” said Starlight without turning her head. “I can feel your biotics.”

“Did you hear what you wanted to hear?” asked Jack.

Starlight turned toward Jack, who was almost completely obscured in the dim light save for her silver eyes and silhouette. “No. But I think I heard what I needed to. I wish I hadn’t.”

Jack stepped out of the shadows and put her hand on the back of Starlight’s head, being careful not to touch her horn. “I know how that goes.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” aid Starlight. “I was just so…angry? Scared? I don’t think it was even about the horn.”

“I know. But to honest, after what people have done to me, I should know better.”

“It’s just so…I don’t even know. I didn’t even want to go back to Equestria, but why am I so sad, then.”

“Sense of justice, maybe?”

“Yeah…” Starlight looked up at Jack. “Jack? Am I a monster?”

“That’s a weird question. I don’t think I need to answer it, either. But if anyone here’s a monster, it’s me” Jack rubbed Starlight’s mane, and then started walking down the dark hallway. “Another thing,” she said, pausing and turning back. “I didn’t realize how much better I slept when I was with you. So, if you want to come back…”

Starlight smiled. “Are you going to try to touch my horn?”

“Yes, definitely. I’m going to dress you in a tiny saddle, chain you to my wall, and forcibly rub the weird growth that sticks out of your forehead.” Jack looked over her shoulder and smiled. Starlight could tell that she was being sarcastic.

“Hey! It’s not a ‘growth’!” protested Starlight, trotting to Jack’s side.

“It is totally a growth.”

“You’re a growth.”

“What are you, twelve?”

“Maybe. I have no idea how old I am.”

“That’s weird. Really weird.”

“Weird because I’m oddly mature, or weird because it would mean you’ve been using a twelve-year-old as a pillow?”

“Little bit of both.”

Starlight giggled, and the two of them fell silent as they walked through the vessel. Until something against the wall suddenly caught Starlight’s eye.

From overhead, there was a surge of static, followed by a garbled sound that rapidly resolved into a voice.

“System…perimeter,” said Armchair, his voice slow and distorted.

“Armchair,” said Jack, looking up as though that was where Armchair was instead of completely surrounding them. “You’re back online.”

Starlight was happy Armchair was safe, but she could not look away from a tiny red dot that she had found on one of the walls. She put her hoof over it, and saw that the dot appeared on her hoof. She turned to see that the laser was coming from the window…and from outside.

“Detecting…graviton…disturbance…”

“Yeah, we’re parked in the upper atmosphere of a gas giant. It has an inconsistent gravity well. Old pirate trick- -”

“Biphasic…graviton…disturbance…”

Starlight looked back at the dot, and then at the window- -and realized that there was a dark shape visible just outside. Through the endless storm of red, swirling gas, Starlight could see the hulking dark silhouette of another vessel.

There was a sudden explosion, and glass shattered, covering Starlight and Jack. On either side of them, two large metal objects had pierced Amrchair’s windows and into his internal hull, their barbed tips tethering the other ship to Armchair. Red, acrid gas leaked in from around their bases where they had broken through the windows.

Armchair’s external lights flashed on, casting strange red shadows outside and illuminating the vessel. Starlight looked up at the ship, and saw that it was pulling itself closer, drawing in on the grappling anchors. Through the fog, she saw the front of it, and the insignia painted haphazardly on the front- -and the fact that there was a humanoid figure clad in bulky white armor clinging to the front.

“Cerberus,” said Jack, her voice dripping with anger. She extended her hands and they ignited with energy. Outside, the armored figure seemed to take notice and raised his hand, pointing at the window. A blue surge came through the fog of the gas outside, and a large hole formed in the window surface as the glass was pulled apart into dust. Wind immediately tore through, and Starlight jumped forward, forming a protective bubble around herself and Jack.

“Let me out of this!” cried Jack. “We need to stop her before she gets in- -”

“No, we need to get out of here!” Starlight lifted the bubble, causing Jack to lose her balance and trip. The sphere then raced through the hall, outpacing the wind from outside, carrying them both to safety.

Starlight looked back only once, and saw that another figure was climbing through the broken ship, and that the original armored figure was chasing them, running quickly across the floor more quickly than Starlight had ever seen a humanoid run before. And, worse, thought the growing corrosive fog and the strange shadows cast by the bright exterior lights, Starlight could not shake the belief that the figure was rushing toward them on all fours, loping like some kind of perverse animal.

Increasing speed, Starlight pulled Jack and herself into a part of the ship where several hallways converged.

“Armchair!” cried Starlight, “Close pressure bulkhead L76A!”

“Acknowledged,” said Armchair, weekly. Behind Starlight, a heavy blast door began to seal, quickly closing just as a black helmet came into view through the other side. With a loud locking and just a puff of red gas, it locked itself against the intruders.

“What was that?” said Starlight, releasing her bubble and dropping to the ground. She realized that she was shaking.

“That door’s not going to hold her for long! How the hell did they find us?”

There was a sound of footsteps from one of the intersecting hallways. Zedok came barreling into the room, sliding to a stop across the floor. She was barely dressed and looked tired, but slung across her back was the shotgun her father had given her, ready to defend the ship. “What’s happening?” she demanded.

“We heard an explosion,” said Fenok behind her.

“Is Si’y with you?” asked Jack.

“He was with Sjdath- -she’s doing everything she can to stop that leak,” said Fenok. “He’ll be here in- -”

There was a sound against the heavy metal blast door, and everyone in the room turned toward it. At first it sounded something like pounding, but then it resolved into something much more organized. The door creaked, and then suddenly opened just slightly. Starlight watched in horror as a set of fingers pushed through the center, and then as two hands began to separate the door, pulling it open.

“Armchair!” cried Starlight. “Increase the pressure! Keep it closed!”

It was too late. The door was pulled about a foot apart, and a human face peered through. He did not appear to be straining, even as gave the door one more hard push. The hydraulic mechanism that kept the door closed burst with a hissing thud, and oil leaked out from it onto the floor. The man then easily pushed the door the rest of the way through, allowing his shorter armored companion to enter in a cloud of toxic gas.

She entered the room, walking slowly across the floor while her male companion mostly closed the door behind her and produced a datapad, which he began to devote his full attention to. The tension in the room seemed to build, and the Cerberus agent stopped, seeming to assess the opposition.

Then she reached up and unlocked the rear mechanism of her helmet, pulling it off and throwing it across the room. A mass of greasy curls poured out from beneath, and a wildly smiling gray, gaunt face looked out at them, her overly large blue eyes rapidly narrowing to a pair of vertical slits in response to the light.

“Jackie-boy!” she said, in a thick, French accent, raising her hands over her head.

“Bob,” said Jack, darkly.

“Wait, you know her?” said Zedok

“Know her? We’re practically sisters! Or, rather…butt buddies.”

“I never thought I’d see the day where you were working for Cerberus,” said Jack. Jack’s body was stiff and tense, and that frightened Starlight. Starlight had never seen Jack like this before.

“Oh, well, you know.” Bob started counting on her fingers. “First you quit the business, and then that traitor Lawson got offed by Leng. And Leng got punctured by little Jonny Shepard. And then little Jonny got eaten by Reapers. So I guess those stunods at Cerberus had to go WAY back in the books.”

“I’m surprised you’re even still alive.”

“After what you did to me? Don’t be.” She held up her left arm, which had a asymmetrically oversized gauntlet attached to it. “You took my arm. It grew back, of course. They always do.”

“That was thirty years ago.”

“I know. But I really liked that arm.”

“And since when are you a biotic?”

Bob lifted the oversized gauntlet. “Since Cerberus figured out how to put a mass gyro into a glove. You have no idea how hard it was to get them to omit the ring finger. ‘But you need that to suppress the radiation surges’. Blarrrrrrrgg….if radiation were a problem, I’d just wear a tinfoil hat…”

“Timing, Bob,” said the male with her. “We have to keep this…” he looked up and saw Starlight. His eyes promptly widened and he gasped deeply. “OmiGERRRSH! A PONY!”

Despite wearing armor almost as thick as Bob’s, he moved amazingly quickly, crossing the floor and dropping to his knees in front of Starlight. Zedok responded by pulling her Graal, but Fenok stopped her from pointing the wide-range weapon in Starlight’s direction.

“Pony!” said the Cerberus man. He was actually rather handsome for a human, with pale skin and long blond hair kept in a ponytail. Something was wrong with him, though, that made Starlight unduly nervous. His blue eyes just seemed so dead.

He wrapped Starlight in a hug. “Oh she’s just ADORABLE! I always wanted a pony as a boy, but my parents never got me one!”

“Please let me go,” said Starlight.

“Oh! She talks!” he looked up at Bob. “A talking unicorn! This is the best day of my life EVER! How are you not all over this?”

“You know my feelings on animals with horns, Marc. And drell. I HATE drell. They taste terrible. And can you believe that Cerberus ‘frowns upon’ cannibalism?” She made air-quotes as she said it. “I mean, come ON! The things I have to put up wi- -”

Without warning, Jack slammed her hands together in Bob’s direction. A massive biotic wave poured out of her, and Starlight suddenly felt herself being suddenly released.

The impact of the blast resulted in a tremendous explosion that shook the ship around them. Zedok was blown backward with a cry, and even Fenok had to brace himself against the force of the blast. Starlight used a shield spell, and saw that Jack did not take her eyes off her target for even a moment.

As the biotic energy dissipated, Starlight gasped. The blond human had managed to place himself between the blast and Bob- -and it was now quite apparent that he was not at all human.

He reached up to where the plastic of his face was hanging away from his whitish, metal skull. One of his robotic eyes, its blue covering removed, twisted down to look at the tatters of the artificial skin.

“Damn it, Bob!” he said, reaching up and pulling the mask away entirely. “I just got that one too! Do you have any idea how much these cost?!”

“Aww, come on, Marc Antony,” said Bob, putting her arms around his shoulders playfully. She was much shorter than he was, so she had to stand on her toes. “It’s on Cerberus’s dollar, now.”

“Your- -you’re a synth,” said Fenok, his eyes wide.

“So Cerberus built another,” said Jack, coldly.

“Cerberus? Like that plastic defective with the cripple boyfriend? Don’t insult me.” He shrugged, stepping away and picking up his datapad. “Everyone knows that everything Cerberus makes is derivative crap.”

“Passive aggressive, much?” said Bob, crossing her arms. She leaned toward Jack and whispered loudly. “He means you.”

“Can we just move this along? We’re behind schedule.”

“Yeah, yeah. Either get off my back or take your clothes off and get on it literally.”

“Disgusting organic…”

“What do you want, Bob?” said Jack.

“What do I want? Hmm…how about you, nude, on a silver platter with your intestines wrapped around your neck? Come on Jack, what do I ever want? I’m just here on business.”

“That’s not an answer. Cerberus- -and YOU- -are not welcome here.”

Bob smiled, revealing a number of sharp teeth. “You couldn’t kill me on Pragia. You can’t here, either. Of course, if you want to try, I can always pretend I’m a baterian slaver and, well, you know…”

Jack’s body started to ignite with blue energy, and she raised her hands again

“Please,” said Fenok, stepping forward, putting his hand on Jack’s chest. “There doesn’t need to be violence here. I’m sure we can talk this out.”

Bob’s eyes widened. She looked to her associate, then at Fenok, and then Jack. “Did that krogan just TURN DOWN a fight? What, a pacifist krogan? Why would you even use a krogan if he’s supposed to be a pacifist? What is this crap?”

“Your name was Bob?”

“Her name is Robette,” said Jack, slyly.

“What’s that?” said Bob, putting a hand to her ear. “Was that the sound of an anus calling out to have my BOOT SHOVED IN IT?”

“Please don’t get her started on anuses,” groaned Marc Antony.

“Bob, then,” said Fenok. “What is it you actually want? I’m sure Cerberus sent you here for a reason.”

Bob pointed at Starlight. “We came for the pone.” She considered what she had just said for a moment. “Actually, that kind of sounds dirty.”

“No,” said Jack. “You can’t have Starlight.”

“Her name is Starlight?” said Marc Antony, his voice rising.

“Focus,” said Bob. She turned back to Jack. “Come on, Jackie. I just spent, like, three days in that cloud just waiting for you to show up. And then another one laser-listening to your inane conversations. Can you cut me a break here?”

“How did you know we would be here?” said Starlight.

“Ah, the pone actually has a brain! Unlike some folks.” Bob crouched down and looked at Starlight. Her gaunt features and flattened nose were not pleasant to look at. “The answer is, because salarians are arrogant frog fools who were dumb enough to think, you know, that Cerbarus somehow WOULDN’T hack their Relay Surveillance System.” She laughed. “Cerberus controls everything! Watching on Omega, sending the mass relays wherever they want! I love this company! Well, except, you know, the anti-cannibalism. And the sexual harassment policy. And this hideous bulky armor. And having to deal with my butt-buddy here.”

“And the pressing nationalism,” added Marc Antony.

“Yeah,” said Bob. “If humans are so great, why didn’t they stop the Reapers?” She paused. “Oh wait…”

“You’re not taking Starlight!” said Zedok, drawing her shotgun and pointing it at Bob’s face. Starlight expected Bob to react negatively, but instead she just smiled.

“Asari,” she said. “Very flat asari. Almost as flat as Jack was when she was your age. Nice Graal, though.”

“Do you want to see what it does to a human head?”

Bob raised her right hand and pointed her index finger at Zedok, lifting her thumb up toward the ceiling and closing her remaining two fingers back into a fist, forming the shape of a gun. “Go ahead. Let’s see who gets the shot off first.”

“Zedok, don’t,” said Jack, firmly, her voice terrifyingly hard.

“Please,” said Fenok. “We can work this out with her- -”

“Sorry, dad. Pacifism isn’t going to work here.”

Zedok pulled the trigger- -and the Graal detonated in her arms. Starlight barely managed to shield herself as a plume of hollow spikes rained down on them all, and then looked up in horror as Zedok stepped backward, confused, her face burned and pouring violet blood. She lifted her arms- -or what was left of them- -and looked at them, as if she did not understand why they were broken and full of shrapnel.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh crap…”

Then she fell.

“Zed!” cried her father, rushing to her side, ignoring the several spikes that were imbedded in his own body. He knelt beside her, opening his omnitool and pulling a small medical kit off his belt as a pool of purple blood began to form beneath him. “Hold on, just hold on!”

“Interesting thing about the mass effect,” said Bob, blowing on her still glowing finger as if she had fired a weapon. “Turns out, it’s a terrible idea. A coordinated counterfeild and, well, kablooey.” She spread her fingers out and looked down one of the darkened hallways. “Or I spread it out a little, and I can suppress weapons function. Isn’t that right, Blasto?”

Starlight turned her head toward where Bob was looking and saw Si’y lurking in the darkness, a long rifle pointed at Bob’s head, wearing his damaged armor even with the severe hole in its side.

“This one is honored that you equate it with the honorable Blasto,” said Si’y, lowering the rifle and floating out of the shadows. “However, if this one is truly to live up to the reputation of its hero…”

Si’y drew a pistol in one of his tentacles and pointed it at Bob. There was a small explosion, and Bob’s left hand went up to her face. Her right opened toward Si’y, and a blue field of energy grasped him and slammed him into a wall with enough force to leave a dent in the metal. The blow knocked the pistol form his hand, and, surrounded in blue light, it flew across the room into Bob’s open hand.

Bob leaned forward, and then stood erect, red blood pouring from her cheek. “What the hell is THIS?” she said, looking down at the revolver. “Did you just shoot me with a goddamn ANTIQUE?” She looked around wildly. “That’s it. I came here to do a SIMPLE. JOB. Take the pone and Jack’s head. I was even going to let you all live. Now I’m going to murder all of you, and then I’m going EAT EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!”

She lunged forward at Starlight. Starlight froze, not sure what to do- -but then a surge of orange light erupted behind Bob. A piece of metal surrounded by a familiar orange glow slammed into Bob’s back, penetrating her right shoulder and pinning her to the ground.

“Goddamn it, my ARM!” cried Bob. She turned her head toward where the red fog was drifting in from the hallway where she had entered and saw Lyra standing over her, her horn glowing. “You little WHORSE!”

“Primitive scum,” said Lyra, adjusting her magic. The metal rod in Bob’s shoulder turned, and Bob cried out. “Come on!” she cried. “Don’t twist it!”

Jack took the opportunity and rushed forward, punching Bob squarely in the throat. Bob’s eyes widened, and she grabbed her neck, gasping for air.

“Did I ever tell you how much I hate your voice?”

Starlight ran across the room and helped Si’y up. As she did, she momentarily saw Zedok. She was very, very still, but Fenok was rushing to stabilize her. Starlight hoped that the fact that he was still trying meant hope was not yet lost.

Jack turned her attention to Marc Antony, who was now standing wide-eyed, looking down at Bob and at the others.

“I don’t know who you are,” said Jack. “And I don’t care. You’re Cerberus. So I’m going to kill you.”

“Well,” said Marc Antony, sounding somewhat nervous. “To be honest, I’m not much of a fighter. I don’t have a gun, biotics, or even an omnitool. I just manage the logistics.”

Jack’s hands glowed with blue light, and Starlight charged her horn. Lyra closed in from behind, her metallic hooves clicking on the floor as she approached the synth. “Do you think that’s going to save you?”

“I’m going to cut of those robot hands and put them on me,” whispered Lyra.

“You are not nearly as cute as the other one. But…” he sighed. “To be honest, this is pretty obvious. You called it, Bob.”

Bob released a gloating wheeze.

“What is the synthetic human speaking of?” asked Si’y, producing his rifle again. “It has been defeated.”

“Not really, no.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Starlight saw Bob smiled. Before she could stop her, Bob opened the palm of her right hand. The room immediately erupted with blue light. Starlight was thrown to the floor, as if something had suddenly landed on top of her. She quickly realized that nothing was touching her, though; she could feel energy surrounding her body, and saw that the same blue light was pressing her friends to the ground.

The gravity of the room had been increased. Starlight tried to struggle against the sickening, inconsistent weight, but found that she could not move even slightly. Neither, it seemed, could the others.

Marc Antony crossed the floor, each of his footsteps impacting the floor with enough force to deform the metal. The gravity field was surrounding him too, but he seemed to be ignoring it.

“Have you ever been to Dekuuna?” he asked, calmly. “Truly a beautiful world. Very flat. And elcor theater…so paced, so impactful. Truly beautiful. I cried.” He paused and looked down at Starlight. The hard metal of his face was incapable of forming anything more than a kind of skeletal grin, but she knew that he must have been smiling. “Of course, at four times earth’s gravity, well…you would feel roughly how you feel right now.”

He slowly reached down toward Starlight. She struggled to rise, but any movement was impossible. She was also rapidly growing weaker; stuck on her side, vision in one of her eyes was going black while the other was becoming red.

Then, just before Marc Antony could reach her, a large tentacle reached out from her peripheral vision and grabbed his chest, throwing him back.

An angry song filled the air, and Arachne pulled himself out of a vent, his heavy legs digging into the metal as he scuttled across the room, being careful not to step on any of his friends. The gravity was affecting him, but unlike the others, he was still able to stand.

“A rachni?!” cried Marc Antony. “You didn’t tell me they had a RACHNI!”

Arachne jumped onto the synth, forcing him to the ground. Marc Antony was barely able to grab Arachne’s front legs and hold them back, narrowly preventing himself from being impaled.

Then Starlight felt the gravity increase again.

“Bob, are you insane?!” cried Marc Antony. Bob, meanwhile, was smiling, her chest pressed against the floor and the long metal spike through her shoulder slowly forcing itself deeper into the floor by its own weight. The gravity was affecting her too- -and she was increasing it.

Starlight looked across the room at her friends, at Jack struggling to stand and Fenok desperately trying to reach his dying daughter. The world was fading quickly, and Starlight knew that there was not much time to act.

She charged her horn, a task that proved to be far more difficult than she expected inside Bob’s mass effect field. It was impossible for her to form a concerted beam of energy, but she found that she was still able to reflect her biotic energy inward.

Concentrating was difficult, but Starlight focused all her energy into lifting herself. The gravity stormed around her, reacting by becoming inconsistent, as though it were angry at her defiance. Her own magic was working against the field in an impossibly complex pattern, a combination of swirling patterns of lift and weight. She felt the conflict inside her organs, and felt her bones beginning to bend until they were on the verge of snapping.

Even through the pain, she tried to keep focus, knowing that one mistake would be lethal. There was no way she could stand, not without tearing her body apart, but she was able to point her left hoof at Bob. Focusing her mind in two places at once, Starlight opened her omnitool and fired an overcharge directly into Bob’s gauntlet.

The gravity gyro failed violently in an explosion of sparks, and Bob cried out. Starlight fell back onto the floor, now at normal gravity, and gasped for air. She had damaged her body, but not permanently, and she could feel her biotic powers returning as her mind started to lapse into unconsciousness.

Across the room, Arachne held Marc Antony as a second overload beam struck him in the side, bringing him to his knees. Sjdath approached cautiously, followed by a pair of combat drones, and immediately went to Si’y’s side. He was not moving.

Jack slowly stood, shaking from the exertion of trying to resist the gravity.

“You’ve lost,” she said.

“Not yet,” said Bob. With a cracking sound, she pulled against the pole that was binding her. Starlight watched as Bob bit into her own shoulder, her teeth gnawing at the flesh with a sickening sound. There was then a ripping sound, and Bob rolled across the floor, grabbing Starlight in the one arm she had remaining.

“Bjorn! Get us out of here!” she yelled.

There was a flash of light, and the universe shifted in a torrent of unexpected motion.

Jack watched as golden light surrounded Bob, Starlight, and Marc Antony. Then, with a thunderous implosion, they vanished.

“They’ve teleported!” cried Lyra.

The ship rumbled as Bob’s vessel disconnected from it.

“No!” shouted Jack, running toward the door.

“Don’t!” Lyra jumped at Jack’s legs, blocking the door. “That atnosphere’s toxic! There’s nothing you can do anyway!”

“Armchair! Track that ship and pursue! NOW!”

“We cannot,” said Armchair. “Our mass core is still too badly damaged for FTL travel. That, and we are using all our current power to keep shields around the rather large hole in our side.”

“Well then do SOMETHING! You can’t let her get away! Not with Starlight!”

“There’s nothing we can do!” shouted Lyra.

Jack’s fists glowed, and she was about to punch Lyra in the face- -but knew that the cybernetic horse was right.

“Goddamn it!” cried Jack, ramming her fist through the four-inch steel of the still partially open bulkhead door. “God-fuckin-damnit!”

“We have bigger problems,” snarled Sjdath. “Si’ys hurt. Badly. And so is Zedok. Arachne, help Fenok with her, I’ll take Si’y.”

“You just want me to give up on her? You want me to let CERBERUS take her, just like that?!”

“No,” said Sjdath. “We’ll get her back. Somehow. But right now, if we don’t hurry, we’re going to lose three friends instead of one.”

Jack looked around the room, watching as Arachne gently picked up Zedok while Fenok- -covered in purple- -helped, his omnitool connected to hers by a number of tubes and wires. She saw Bob’s arm, still transfixed to the floor, the glossy white of the shoulder bone exposed against the rusted metal rod. She saw Sjdath cradling Si’y almost lovingly, and saw his rifle drop out of his tentacle as he was lifted.

“Goddamn it,” whispered Jack. “Goddamn Cerberus…”

Starlight felt herself thrown to a cold metal floor. She gasped for air, and then suddenly retched. She realized that she had just been teleported, but this one had been different from hers. When she did it, she simply ceased to be in one place and moved to another. This time, she had experienced a kind of extended delay and had become aware that she had found herself in a third, intermediate place. A place with an endless yellow sky and heavy, hot, burning air.

Disoriented and confused, Starlight tried to stand- -only to have a collar fastened around her neck.

“There, now don’t you look cute,” said a voice, a voice that Starlight realized was the Cerberus soldier Bob. This brought Starlight at least partially back to her senses, and she sat up suddenly.

“What is this?” she said, grabbing at the collar with her hooves.

“A biotic suppression collar,” said Bob. She looked over her shoulder- -which at this point was pouring blood where her arm had previously been- -and saw Marc Antony rounding a corner holding a robotic limb and some supplies.

“Aw, come on,” said Marc Antony, perturbed. “You got blood all over the pony!”

Starlight looked down, and saw that she was indeed covered in blood. Much of it was red- -but there was just a little bit of purple. That purple made her want to throw up.

“Do you really think this collar can hold ME?” she said, glaring up at Bob.

“What? No, of course not. It doesn’t even suppress your abilities. You can use them if you want to.”

“Wha- -”

“Buuuut…” she smiled mischievously, a smile that was somehow absurdly cruel and grotesque. “I did install a sensor…and a teeny, tiny four kiloton explosive unit in it. So if you try to use biotics or your omni, well, kah-beewm!”

Marc Antony’s eyes widened. “You rigged the pony to explode- -Bob, could we at least have TALKED about this first?”

“Don’t get your robot anal port in a twist. It’s not like I haven’t rigged you with explosives too.”

Marc Antony looked down at himself. “Wh- -where? What did you do?”

“I put them in while you were sleeping.”

“But I don’t sleep!”

Bob shrugged. She looked back down at Starlight. “So, pone. I know you probably want to blow me up, but just remember, Marc here has three older sisters and a pair of parents who would really miss him. That, and I kind of think your head might, you know, pop off.”

“At four kilotons, I’d be vaporized.”

Bob’s eyes widened. “You’re oddly smart for a horse.”

“Pony. And I don’t appreciate you hurting my friends, or taking me against my will, or assuming that I’m an idiot because I have four legs. I demand to be taken back to my ship, right now!”

“Yeah, about that,” said Bob, taking the robotic arm from Marc Antony. “That’s not going to happen.” She inspected the arm. “This isn’t that Cerberus crap, is it?”

“Of course not.”

“Good.” Bob plugged the end of the limb onto the stump of her shoulder, and gritted her teeth in pain as the wires and tubes of the arm extended from it, burrowing into her shoulder. “Oh sweet Jack on a barbed stick,” she said, on the verge of screaming. “That hurts. Good thing I’m not wearing underwear today.”

“Digusting.” Marc Antony shook his head, and Bob lifted the arm, which now responded to her will. She flexed the three fingers, turning her new hand over and looking at it carefully. “Hey, look! I’m Saren now! All I’ve got to do is get my brain scrambled by a Reaper and get a low-cut dress for you, Marc, so you can be Benezia! Oh, the things I’ll do to you…”

“I could have you reported for sexual harassment, you know.”

“Go ahead. Just don’t drop the soap.”

“Um, excuse me,” said Starlight. “I’m still here, you know.”

“Oh, I didn’t notice,” said Bob. “Oh wait- -I JUST LOST AN ARM TRYING TO GET YOU! I BIT. OFF. MY OWN. ARM!” Marc Antony handed her a large, dirty syringe and she injected it into her neck. “That was my speedball arm, too!” She licked her lips and looked at the srynge. “Marc, this isn’t fentanyl.”

“Oops. Sorry. That’s the amphetamine and 5-flourouracil one.”

“Oh. That’s better actually. Honestly, the fentanyl does nothing at this point. But the 5-fluro makes me tingly.” She turned her attention back to Starlight. “You had better be worth it. Now walk, pone, walk!”

Bob lightly kicked Starlight in the rump, encouraging her to walk down the hallway. Starlight actually looked around for the first time, and saw that she was in a vessel with gravity plating on the floor but no real covering on the walls. Everything was stripped apart and exposed, and hardly lit at all. The atmosphere felt thin and terribly cold.

“I thought your arms grew back,” she said.

“They do,” said Bob. “But do you have any idea how long it takes to grow back an arm? Months! And then it’s never really quite the same. And don’t get me started about how weird it looks to be growing back a stubby baby arm when the other one’s normal…”

“What do you want with me?” said Starlight, masking how nervous she was with bravado.

“Not much. But I WILL be ravishing your tiny pony body.”

“Don’t you dare!” cried Marc Antony, stepping in front of her. “Don’t you dare hurt this beautiful creature!” He knelt down and put his arm around Starlight- -and she suddenly felt a prick in her neck.

“Hey!” she cried, jumping back. She almost slapped him with her magic- -but stopped herself just in time.

“It’s just a needle,” said Marc Antony, showing her the strange. “It’s an antimicrobial. Trust me, after getting that much of HER blood on you, you’re going to need it.”

“Then ask first, pervert!”

“I’m sorry, I- -”

“Don’t bother, Marc. It’s not like we’re going to keep her. And no, pone, I’m not going to do anything like that to you. It was a joke.”

“Don’t make jokes about something like that.”

“Oh, well, excuse me,” said Bob. “But, in case you haven’t noticed…” she pointed toward the Cerberus insignia on her chest. “I’m evil.”

“Bob,” said Marc, sounding exasperated. “Cerberus isn’t evil. We’re helping to protect earth’s interests. Remember?”

“No,” said Starlight. “You are definitely evil. You attacked us without warning, you hurt Zedok and Si’y, and you took me.”

“Yeah,” said Bob. “Fond memories…I kind of feel bad for the asari, though. She wasn’t bad looking for a kid. She’s going to be a lot less pretty now. If she survives.”

Starlight felt herself stiffen at the thought of Zedok lying in her own blood, dying. Starlight started to panic- -she did not know if Zedok was safe, if Fenok could help her. She knew Fenok was a good doctor, but she also knew that doctors could only do so much. Not knowing was maddening.

“I really would have liked to have offed Jack, though. Just sunk my teeth into those ridiculous tattoos…”

“You know Jack,” said Starlight, trying to change the subject to something where she could keep her cool, and maybe even get some information.

“Oh, yeah, we go way back. We both grew up on Pragia.”

“Is that where she was born?”

“Born? No, of course not. She didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Pragia. It’s a Cerberus research center. It’s where they made her.”

“She’s a person, like me. She wasn’t ‘made’.”

“Oh, she was made. Implants, surgeries, I guess. I didn’t know then, of course. Back then we were kids. Every day, they’d pick some of us to go in and fight her, test out what they had added to her.”

“They forced her to fight?”

“No. They forced her to kill. Since the day she could walk, they made her kill. Again and again. And those were the lucky ones. The rest had their brains turned to soup to test her biotic upgrades before they put them in her.”

“She- -she never told me,” said Starlight, suddenly understanding Jack’s behavior a bit more.

“They were trying to make the perfect weapon. Fat lot of success they had. No way to control her. Then again, Cerberus couldn’t even keep Lawson under control. Makes you wonder why they hired me.”

“And you were her friend, back then?” That was what Starlight liked to imagine, that a younger Bob had been there in that hell, keeping Jack company and sticking together through their ordeal.

“You could say that. I was the only one she couldn’t kill. Not for lack of trying, though.”

“You fought her?” Starlight felt her imagined situation crumbling.

“Yeah. Lost a lot. She gutted me once, that was fun. Cerberus never bothered to do the same stuff to me, though. I wasn’t suitable. Not a biotic.”

“So you’re like her, then.”

“No.” Bob paused, and looked over to Marc Antony, who had clearly heard the story but was listening intently. “No. Jack didn’t start off the way she is. She could have gone either way. Give her parents, a home, put her in a school for biotic kids, she’d have been an ordinary person. But Cerberus doesn’t want ordinary people. They want weapons. As for me, well…I was born this way.”

“And that’s why you hate her.”

“Hate her? No. That’s backward. She hates me.”

“Because Cerberus never took anything away from you, like it did her.”

“She’s perceptive,” said Marc Antony. He paused. “We’re at the mass relay. Do you want to talk to him before we go?”

“I guess we kind of have to. Damn. I really hate having to work for that little prick. Hey pone!”

“What?”

“What’s your name again?”

“Starlight. Starlight Glimmer.”

“Well, Glimmer, take a right at the next door.”

“Or what?”

“Or run away. I don’t care. Bjorn might not like it, though.”

“Who’s Bjorn?”

Bob pointed down the long corridor into the shadows. Starlight looked and saw nothing- -until she just barely saw something move in the darkness. Something very tall and very thin that watched in silence. Starlight had no idea what it was, but she actually felt herself take several steps back, not wanting to get any nearer to it than she already was.

“Come on,” said Bob, poking Starlight’s rump with a robotic finger and directing her into an offshoot room. “Trust me, I don’t want to do this anymore than you do.”

Starlight looked back, and then begrudgingly entered the room. It was small and circular, with a round pad in the center surrounded by controls.

“Right,” said Marc Antony, approaching one of the sets of controls and wiping the grime off the screen. “Let’s see if you installed the quantum channel the correct way in this time.”

“It’s not my fault if the last one didn’t have a proper diode,” grunted Bob, crossing her arms.

Marc Antony tapped on the controls, and the pad on the floor started to glow. Specks of light drifted upward from it and resolved into translucent polygons. After several seconds, these polygons resolved into a humanoid figure and then, finally, into the shape of a human.

The human- -a male, older than Marc Antony had looked with his false face- -looked down at the trio of beings. His eyes were luminescent blue, and he took a long breath through a cigarette in the corner of his mouth.

“Yo,” said Bob. She pointed at Starlight. “One pone, hold the onions.”

The man looked down at Starlight, and his glowing eyes narrowed. He removed the cigarette from his mouth. “Why is she covered in blood? I thought I ordered you to take her unharmed!”

“It’s not my blood,” said Starlight. “It’s hers.”

The man turned toward Bob. His eyes fell onto her newly installed robotic limb. “You mean that little horse did that to YOU? Robette, I’m beginning to wonder if hiring you was the right decision.”

“And I’m beginning to wonder why you keep using that ridiculous VI cover,” retorted Bob.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, ‘illusive man’. I have brain herpes and I’m still smart enough to see the seams.” She smiled. “Isn’t it a little pretentious for an asari girl like you to bother with the whole ‘hey look I REALLY AM human’ routine? Come on, we all know that the only human here is me.”

“I would hardly call you human at this point.”

“Says the asari.”

“I’m not an asari!”

Starlight stepped forward. “You’re her boss?”

The illusive man looked down at her. “Yes, I am.”

“Then you’re the one who ordered my kidnapping.”

“I really am sorry for any undue stress it caused, Ms. Starlight.”

“Shove it in your plot hole. I’d demand you return me, but I’m not an idiot. What do you want from me?”

The illusive man took a long drag on his cigarette. “Nothing.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I don’t want anything with you. You don’t matter at all to me.” He turned to Bob. “Take her to these coordinates. Wait there. I’m in contact with the ponies on the Harmony. They will arrive in exactly two hours. You both know what to do Don’t mess this up, Robette.”

“For the amount I’m getting paid, I won’t. Assuming those dollars you’re paying me in aren’t as illusive as you claim to be.”

“You know, most Cerberus operatives put their lives on the line for more than money, Robette.”

“Life? Whaddaya mean life? I ain’t got a life!” She paused. “That aside, it’s a bit hollow for those words to be coming from an alien.”

“He has earth’s best interests at heart,” said Marc Antony.

“Listen to your better half. And don’t try to score renegade points with me, Robette. I could crush you like the parasite you are.”

“With your overweight asari arse, perhaps?”

“Just do your job,” he said, pointing with his cigarette. “Deliver the pony. Unharmed. We’ll handle the rest.”

The transmission forcibly closed, and Marc Antony let out a long sigh. “Come on, Bob. Every single time. Do you have to challenge authority?”

“Yes.”

Starlight turned to Bob, shaking and wide-eyed. “You’re…you’re going to take me back to Harmony?”

“Yes. That’s what I’m told, anyway.” She looked down at Starlight and gave a toothy smile. “That’s what I gave my arm for. To get you back to your people. You should be thanking me. Except for the fact that I’m guessing you’re some kind of criminal, so, well…”

“I can’t go back! I won’t! You- -you don’t understand what they did to me! What they WILL do to me!”

“It’s not my problem.”

“It is if I- -if I blow you both up!” Starlight pointed her horn toward Bob, prepared to charge it with energy.

Bob shrugged. “Go ahead.”

“I’m warning you, I will! I- -I won’t go back! I’m not a machine, I’m a pony! A PONY!”

“And I don’t care. I don’t want to die. But I’m also in constant agony from, well, just about every disease you can get from being born in a sewer. So, either way is fine with me.”

“Please, Starlight,” said Marc Antony, nervously. “I- -I don’t want to die! Don’t listen to her!”

“Then take this collar off me, and let me leave!”

“I- -I can’t do that, and you know it.”

“Then I’ll kill us all!”

“See?” said Bob, oddly calmly. “I told you. Some kind of weapon, just like Jack. Built to kill. No wonder the pones want it back so much.”

Starlight felt her blood run cold, but she braced herself, preparing to charge her horn and detonate her collar. She paused for a moment, wondering what it would feel like. There would probably be a slight delay, and then a burst of light and sound- -and then nothing.

She looked at Bob, and then at Marc Antony, and saw just how terrified he was. For a moment, she saw a different face over his: that of a krogan, one that she never knew the name of, looking down at the slash across his body, confused as his torso started to slide away from his legs.

Then Starlight realized that she just could not bear to do it. She lowered her horn. “I…I can’t. I can’t do it.” She sighed. “I never wanted to hurt anyone. I just wanted a normal life, to be happy, the same as everyone else. Is that too much to ask?”

“In this galaxy, yes.” Bob took a deep breath. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have to change the lower part of my suit.” She walked out the door. “Hey, do we still have any of that turian left in the fridge?”

Marc Antony did not watch her go, and then turned to Starlight. He approached her and squatted, putting his hand on her head. Starlight pulled away in defiance.

“Look, I know it’s going to be hard,” he said. “I really wish your homecoming could be happy. I don’t understand what’s going on, but I know that you don’t want to go. But you have to.”

“Not if you make a choice, right here and now.”

Marc Antony sighed, and then shook his head. He walked to the door and motioned for Starlight to follow. “Come on,” he said. “There’s not much I can do for you, but at least I can get you cleaned up. If you’re going to have to do this, you can at least face it looking good.”

Starlight looked up at him angrily, and then away. He waited patiently, and after several long seconds, Starlight followed him, trying to conceal the tears that were running down her face and falling silently onto the dusty floor below.

Author's Note

You may be wondering who these sudden OCs are. No, they are not from Mass Effect. They are actually from one of my non-pony stories (that no human being has ever read). It's like a mini-crossover. They were originally conceived as a space adventure crew consisting of Bob, a sexually violent, drug-using, disease-ridden space cannibal; Marc Antony, her android employee, and Bjorn, her business partner. I thought I would resurrect them here. I think they make better Cerberus agents than the generic ones in Mass Effect, and I was kind of trying to give the impression that Cerberus is getting desperate and hiring real weirdos with slight genetic advantages.

Chapter 18: Victory

Rainbow Dash rubbed her head. It hurt, to say the least. Of course, that was both a good thing and a bad thing. It was bad because it hurt, but good because after over a decade of heavy drinking Rainbow Dash had finally found a type of alcohol potent enough to give her a hangover.

She had, of course, spent most of the night drinking while overseeing search parameters and reviewing reports. Then, of course, she had been unceremoniously awakened extra early, to the point where she had actually punched the assistant who had woken her up. Twilight was requesting her presence, and as far as Rainbow Dash knew, Twilight never slept.

Rainbow Dash looked back at the group of assistants following behind her. Two were male, and one was a slightly bruised female. They were different from the ones she had brought with her before, but they were all functionally the same so it did not matter terribly much. Their only job was to get Rainbow Dash what she needed, and to relay the information she gave them to the rest of the fleet, coordinating its effort and taking information from Rainbow Dash only when it was critical.

“You,” said Rainbow Dash to the female. “Do you know where Captain Scootaloo is today?”

“Checking,” she said, opening an interface to the Harmony. The violet text scrolled past in front of her as she walked. “Yes. Captain Scootaloo is currently in the deck six temporary commissary.”

“Commissary? Why isn’t she eating in the private quarters I gave her?”

“I am not aware if she is eating. I would posit that she may be speaking to a member of her crew, or waiting for the RENS Rainbow Dash to be repaired.”

Rainbow Dash groaned. She hated that name for that particular ship. It was not fast, and it was terribly ugly. She would have preferred her name given to a galactic cutter, or maybe a long-range destroyer. Instead she got an old freighter. It was unpleasant, but Rainbow Dash was on some level flattered that Scootaloo would name the ship after her and had as such granted her that right.

Hoofsteps rapidly approached, and a pair of violet mechanical alicorns fell in line with Rainbow Dash’s breeders. Rainbow Dash had never really been clear on what the alicorns were made of, just that it was something like ceramic and both hard and shiny. In all honesty, she found their pupilles, blank eyes somewhat disturbing. They were a critical part of the Harmony, though, and Twilight seemed to prefer them.

The air next to Rainbow Dash flickered and resolved into a violet, translucent hologram of a pony that pretended to walk beside Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash could not help but sigh. Twilight almost always preferred to have her “self” appear as that hologram, but it was actually redundant. Every one of her hundreds of alicorn drones were directly connected to her mind; she could have spoken through any of those just as well. Instead, she preferred to retain a useless vestige of her long-lost ponyhood.

“This had better be good, Twilight,” said Rainbow Dash. “I was having the best dream…there were marshmallows, and- -”

“And Rarity?”

Rainbow Dash’s eyes widened. “How did you- -”

“You talk in your sleep. That, and marshmallows and Rarity are mutually inclusive. On account of her color and comparatively high body fat percentage.”

“I get the joke. You don’t have to make it all science-y.”

“‘Scienc-y’ is not a word. You mean ‘scientific’. And you would not have understood the joke if I had not explained it.”

“I have things to do, Twilight.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I do. I’ve got to track down where that Core went.”

“I already did.”

“You what- -I mean, where?”

“Here. It is in my care now.”

“But- -how- -”

“While you were sleeping, I was contacted by the local population. They offered to return the Core to me.”

“You WHAT? Twilight, have you cracked a fuse?”

“I do not have fuses. But if I did, they would be quite functional.”

“You know we can’t trust ALIENS!”

“Can’t we? They performed your job far faster and with far less expense of resource than it would have been if, well, it had been done by you.”

“Twilight, you’re being naïve! What did they ask for in return?”

“Nothing, yet. Which is why we are going to speak with them.”

“You mean right now? As in now now?”

“Yes.”

“As in they are currently on the ship?!”

“Yes.”

“And you just let them here?!”

“This ship is my body,” said Twilight, somewhat firmly. “I will allow landing as I see fit.”

“I get that, but…aside from that sounding dirty- -that’s a terrible idea!”

“I am tracking their positions right now. They cannot escape me. That, and Fluttershy has been kind enough to give me more than enough information on their biology and culture. I do not view them as a threat, not to me.”

“Yeah, and I once thought the same thing about the Crystals. And do you know what they did? They pulled off my wing!”

“I highly doubt these aliens will pull off your wing.”

“I know,” said Rainbow Dash, on the verge of reluctant aquiescence. “But I just don’t like the idea of dirty aliens walking around, getting alien skin cells and alien germs all over the- -”

Rainbow Dash rounded the corner, and promptly ran nose-first into the nose of a gray-skinned, foul smelling alien.

“Pone,” said the alien, her blue eyes narrowing on Rainbow Dash.

“Alien!” cried Rainbow Dash, jumping into the air and clinging to one the Twilight robots.

“Bob!” cried a male voice from behind the female. She looked around, somewhat confused, and then slowly rose, standing on two legs until she towered over the ponies, a biped clad in white armor. To Rainbow Dash, she was a terrifying and hideous giant, a true monster.

The owner of the second voice came jogging over. He was not nearly as bad looking, with pale white skin and a pleasant yellow mane. His eyes were blue, but not as nocturnal as those of the other- -but somehow as unpleasant and dead as those of the alicorn automatons.

“I so want to taste that rainbow,” said the female, looking wide-eyed at her associate.

“My apologies,” said the male. “She tends to get antsy waiting.”

Twilight stepped forward. “I am Twilight Sparkle, Fourth Goddess of Equestria and Princess of Friendship. The rainbow you seem to wish to taste is Fleet Commander Rainbow Dash. The others are- -”

“Not of consequence,” said Rainbow Dash, dropping down from the glassy model of Twilight. She looked up at the pair of aliens. “I’m actually surprised you can talk.”

“You’re not the one talking to a pone right now.”

“Please excuse her course, banal, idiotic, insensitive behavior,” snapped the male. “My name is Marc Antony, and this is my associate- -”

“Boss!”

“- -Bob. We are humans of the planet Earth, and we humbly greet you, your highness.”

“You say you are both human,” said Twilight. “But the female is made mostly of organic material save for her right arm, while your body consists entirely of metal, plastic, and ceramic. You are not the same species.”

“Oh, no,” said Marc Antony. “I was not expecting you to notice. No, I’m not actually human, but I like to consider myself one in an honorary sense.”

“A fully automated machine?” Twilight’s eyes widened and she stepped forward, admiring the creature like some kind of specimen. “Fascinating. We have remote operated clockwork mechanisms on Equestria, but nothing like you. I’d love to see how you work.”

“Oh, my. Princess, I’m flattered, but I think our relationship is a little too young for that right now.”

Rainbow Dash had not realized that alicorn holograms could blush. She put her hoof against her forehead, feeling her migraine only increasing. “Look,” she said, pushing past Twilight. “Can you just show me the Core? The one you supposedly brought us?”

“Yes,” said Twilight. “She’s over here.”

Twilight walked several yards down the hallway that Marc Antony and Bob had been waiting in, and turned her attention toward an otherwise blank and white wall. Her magic reconfigured the molecular nature of the wall, causing it to become transparent.

Rainbow Dash walked up to the newly formed window and looked through. The Core was, indeed, there, held vertically in the center of a large white room in a construct made from plates of violet magic that held all four of her legs. The Core looked up, and for a moment Rainbow Dash felt sorry for a pony with such a defeated gaze- -until she remembered that it was just a Core. It was not even a pony at all.

“We are at present building her a temporary housing for transport back to Equestria,” explained Twilight. “Once she is returned, she will be moved to a permanent housing in a new vessel.”

“I’ve read her specifications. Is there any chance she could get out of there?”

“No. I am currently suppressing all magic and ‘mass-effect’ fields within the Harmony. Which, of course, means that your weapons will not work here.”

“Of course. I would only expect as much.”

“Wait, I wouldn’t expect as much,” protested Bob. “I like shooting things. Ideally using guns.”

“But not here,” hissed Marc Antony. “Isn’t that right, Bob?”

Twilight looked into the room at the suspended pony, and then returned the opacity of the wall. She began walking, and Marc Antony fell in step with her. Bob stayed in the back, looking around at nothing in particular.

“I don’t like this,” said Rainbow Dash. She looked up at the blond man. “You’re just giving her to us? Why?”

“I represent a private entity called Cerberus,” explained Marc Antony. “We are primarily a research institution devoted toward practical scientific advancement with the hope of creating a better, safer galaxy for our home system and the human race as a whole.”

“A research institute, you say?” said Twilight, leaning closer to him, intrigued. “What type of research, exactly?”

“Well, much of it is classified, but much of it involves medical interventions and defensive solutions.”

“Weapons, you mean,” said Rainbow Dash.

“Sometimes, yes, I admit,” said Marc Antony. “But only with the goal of protecting ourselves. This galaxy, you will find, is a hostile place with numerous warring species. Humanity is a comparative newcomer to the often treacherous galactic community and has generally been at a tactical disadvantage for some time.”

“Eyes brown yet, Marc?” asked Bob.

Marc Antony turned to glare at Bob. As he did, a small toothy creature ran past the group.

“Puppy!” cried Bob, following the tiny varren toward the shadows of a narrow alley. Marc Antony thought he saw a figure standing in the shadows, and he paused, peering into the darkness.
Inside was a yellow winged pony with pink hair, just staring at them with enormous blue eyes- -or, more specifically, staring at Bob. She did not speak, nor did she move. She just watched, not even taking her eyes away as the varren stepped beneath her, nuzzling her ankels

“Aliens…” whispered the pony at last.

Marc Antony felt a bump on his side. One of the nameless white ponies was pushing him. “It is best not to look her in the eyes,” he suggested.

“Right. Come on, Bob.”

“But I want to pet the puppy! I love puppies!”

“If you touch it, you might get scale-itch.”

“Come on, Marc, I already have scale-itch and you know it.”

“What is ‘scale-itch’?” asked Twilight.

“You want to find out?”

“No, she doesn’t,” said Marc Antony, pulling Bob away from the unblinking stare of that oddly terrifying creature lurking in the darkness. As they left, he looked back to see her still watching them from behind- -and he momentarily thought that her eyes looked a slightly different color than they had been before.
“I’m still having trouble understanding why you helped us,” said Rainbow Dash, still suspicious of the aliens.

“Simple, really. Earth, unfortunately, has comparatively few allies and a great many enemies. You are new to our community, so Cerberus sent us to extend a metaphorical olive branch. It is the illusive man’s hope- -and mine, if I may say so- -that with this gesture, our races might become friends.”

“Friendship,” said Twilight. “I do like the sound of that.”

“I suspected you might.” Marc Antony looked around the ship. “In all honesty, your spacecraft is truly amazing. Our words’ technology appears to have progressed in completely different directions.”

“Thank you,” said Twilight. “I am the most advanced ship in all of Equestria.”

“Indeed. As a machine myself, I really can appreciate quality construction. I would be remiss if I didn’t ask for a tour.”

“No way,” said Rainbow Dash. “This stuff is classified. You brought us the Core, and now you’re going to leave.”

“I have to agree,” said Twilight. “I truly am grateful for your help. All of Equestria is. But until we’ve established more formal relations with your people- -”

“I understand. It is Cerberus’s hope that we can one day facilitate a technology exchange, but we understand that it will take time for you to trust us. Friendships do not always proceed quickly.”

“No,” said Twilight. “No they don’t.”

Bob moved up from the rear, sniffing the air. She eventually settled on Rainbow Dash as the source of whatever it was that she was smelling.

“Why do you smell like a bucket of ryncol?”

“Why do you smell like 5-fluorouracil?” retorted Twilight.

“Touche,” said Bob, falling back behind the breeder ponies. “Personally, I prefer the ryncol thought. Ideally by IV. I was just hoping you had some extra.” She looked bored for a moment, and then reached out and grabbed the tail of one of the males. He yelped in surprise as he was exposed.

“Hey, Rainbow,” she said. “I have a question for you. Are these things…you know…fully operational?”

Rainbow Dash smiled. “Oh yes,” she said, finally finding something that she and one of the aliens had in common. “I know some mares like their breeders gelded on purchase, but I like them with all the parts. Keeps them spunky. I still have the females neutered, of course.”

“Might seem like weird thing, but…do you mind if I…you know…”

“Bob!”

“Oh come on, Marc, it’s not like I haven’t done it with a horse before!”

“Knock yourself out,” said Rainbow Dash, waving them away. “Those ones are a little old anyway. I was meaning to get a new set next time we go over to the farm.”

“Great,” said Bob. She put her hands on the male white Pegasi’s heads and led them toward a perpendicular hallway. The female attempted to follow, but Bob pushed her back. “Not you. You’re not what I’m feeling right now.” She led the Pegasi away, and one of them looked back at the female. She looked back, concern crossing her face.

“Come on, you two,” said Bob. “You’re going to be my new meat bicycles.”

The white female watched her associates go, and her expression fell. She took a momentary step in their direction before Rainbow Dash stopped her.

“Something wrong, breeder?” she said.

“No, Fleet Commander,” said the female, turning back toward Rainbow Dash. “Nothing is wrong.”

“I’m really sorry,” said Marc Antony, not to the white pony but to Twilight.

“Don’t be. However, I would like to remind the Fleet Commander that attempting to breed with a farm-produced Pegasus is ordinarily a crime punishable by death. For a pony, of course.”

“Come on, Twi, I’m not that desperate!”

“I’m just stating the regulations. That’s all. Not accusing you at all.”

“I would think it would be the Fleet Commander’s right to use her property as she sees fit,” suggested Marc Antony.

“See! He gets it. Not that I- -oh, you know what I mean.”

“I don’t make the laws,” said Twilight, shrugging.

“Yes you do!”

“Oh,” said Twilight, pausing. “I guess I do. What with being an immortal princess and all.”

“I really would be more interested in understanding more about your government structure.”

“No,” said Rainbow Dash. “You’re going to get on your tiny little ship, and GO. And your friend, too. She can even take those two if she wants.”

“I can give you a book on the subject, if you like.”

“Thank you,” said Marc Antony. “I would like that.”

Twilight smiled up at him, and Marc Antony returned her smile. He then let her lead him back to the bay where Bob’s vessel was parked. As he did, he checked his watch. None of the ponies seemed to notice that instead of telling the time, it was counting down.

Chapter 19: On the Citadel

Hemorrhaging fuel and leaking a trail of atmosphere, Armchair emerged from the spatial corridor produced by the mass relay. With his flightpath unstable and his mass core just barely together enough to generate a minimal impulse speed, he directed his course toward the large metallic object that his one remaining sensor could pick up: the center of the galactic government, the Citadel.

Onboard, Jack and Sjdath looked out a cracked window as Armchair shuddered and lurched through space, barely managing to hold his body together as he approached the enormous space station.

“Come on,” said Jack, to herself. “Come on, just a little farther…”

“Incoming transmission,” said Armchair. “Docking protocols…need assistance…”

“I’ll take it.” Sjdath opened her omnitool and produced a holographic screen. On it was the face of a turian, an operator from the docking platform.

“Attention geth vessel,” he said, his large eyes glittering against the muted tones of his gray, semi-metallic skin. “You are not approved for landing. Repeat, not approved. Geth are not welcome here.”

“This is Sjdath, salvage operator,” said Sjdath. “I’m requesting an emergency landing. We have wounded in need of immediate medical attention.”

The turuian looked confused. “I’m having a hard time understanding…I was addressing a geth vessel.”

“Yes, that’s us. We’re on it.”

“You’re on a geth starship? How?”

“Are you going to authorize our landing or not?”

“No. At present, the Citadel has a no-vorcha policy to reduce the risk of infestation. You are still not authorized to land.”

“Give me that,” said Jack, grabbing Sjdath’s arm. “You listen here, you arrogant, power obsessed little three-fingered butt. I don’t care if you’re using this job to compensate for your tiny turian genitals, but two of my friends are dying. One of them’s a friggin kid. If you don’t let me land, I swear to whatever sick god did this to them I will RAM this ship into your goddamn Citadel!”

The turuian’s eyes widened, but he just gaped.

“Did you hear me?”

“It’s- -it’s you,” he said. “Jaqueline Naught- -Subject Zero! Holy crap- -ahem, excuse my language, Ms. Naught, but I- -I didn’t even think you were still alive- -I have all your comic books, I mean, well, they’re not yours but- -”

“Am I gonna have to slap a turian?”

“N- -no, Ms. Naught. No. Land- -landing approved. And when you get in could I get your autogra- -”

Jack cut the transmission, and Sjdath took her arm back.

“I had no idea you were so famous.”

“You don’t spend time with John Shepard and not get a little fame. It’s one reason I left this hole. But if it will help Zedok, I’ll deal with it.”

The ship docked uneventfully, opening its central loading bay to the Citadel. Almost as soon as the immense bay door pulled open, two groups rushed in with stretchers. One immediately went to Fenok, who carried Zedok to them. He had managed to stabilize her condition, but she was weak and still badly injured. Her injuries were covered in a number of bandages that were soaked with drying purple fluid.

“We’ll take it from here,” said one of the paramedics, a salarian.

“She needs immediate intravenous injection of gene-matched medigel,” said Fenok, quickly. “If we can get her to a reconstructive apparatus we might slow the scarring- -”

“We can handle it.”

“I’m going with you.”

“Sir, you can’t- -”

“I said I’m going!”

“Are you seriously going to argue with the krogan?” said the other paramedic, a human.

“No, no. Put her down, but stay out of the way.”

Fenok nodded and set Zedok gently on the stretcher and followed it as she was taken away.

Meanwhile, another pair of paramedics were loading Si’y onto a stretcher. A drell doctor was already attending to him.

Sjdath approached the drell. “Is he going to survive?” she asked.

“These are gravity injuries,” said the drell. “Hanar are invertebrates, they are exquisitely sensitive to high gravity. His injuries are grave.”

“Will he survive?!”

The drell looked her in the eye. “The Citadel has one of the best hanar treatment centers off of Kahje. If Arashu is willing, we will make him Whole again.” She opened her omnitool and began taking readings, and motioned for the paramedics to take Si’y away.

Sjdath fell backward, hissing in anger- -not directed toward the drell, but toward herself for allowing this to happen.

“It’s okay, Sjdath,” said Jack, approaching from behind. “He’s going to be okay. They both will.”

“Forgive me if I lack confidence in the regenerative capacity of failed species.”

“Hey, I once knew a man who once came back from the dead. Not ‘clinical’ dead, either. Hit a planet from orbit with his face kind of dead. If they could fix him, they can fix Si’y.” She pushed past Sjdath. “So come on.”

“Come on? Where? Why?”

“We have business to attend to. You two, Lyra.”

Lyra, who had been resting on a tall crate and watching the proceedings with characteristic disinterest, stood up. “Wait, why me?”

“Because when you go onto the Citadel, you have to go in threes. I can’t take Armchair, and I can’t take Arachne. So you two, on me, now.”

“Fine,” said Lyra, jumping down.

“I don’t feel comfortable with that,” said Sjdath. “I mean, I’m a vorcha, I don’t think I am welcome- -”

“Move, now.”

“Alright, alright! But if someone sprays vorchacide on me, I will blame you!”

She adjusted her gas valve compulsively, and then hesitated before finally following Jack and the teal-haired pony out onto the landing platform.

It was much more roomy than the ones on Omega, and cleaner too. Several technicians were already waiting outside, staring up at Armchair.

“So that’s a geth starship?”

“I’ve never seen one up close!”

“Sweet Mara, look at that damage- -I can’t believe they got it in like this.”

“Hey you!” said Jack, approaching them. “Are you for hire?”

They all looked away from her. “Um, you should probably be wearing a shirt,” said one of them.

“Are you for hire or not?”

“Yes, I guess- -”

“Good. We have an engineer in there working on fixing the core. Go help him.”

“Sure, but…” one of the human technicians looked down at Lyra. “Um…is that a blue unicorn?”

“Green,” said Lyra, defensively. “I am green.”

“Um…Joe, did you spike the drinking fountain with ryncol again?”

“Maybe…”

“Just get to work,” said Jack, pointing. “Charge it to the vorcha’s account.”

She walked away, leaving the techs to get to work fixing Armchair. As they left, she turned to Sjdath. “What, no complaints about the cost?”

“I’m already in lethal debt. What’s a little more? Besides…”

“Besides what?”

“It’s kind of…my fault.”

Jack stopped. “What did you do?”

“While I was looking for buyers for that scrap…one of them was that blond android.”

Jack frowned. “Let me get this straight. You tried to sell an unknown alien ship. To Cerberus?”

“I didn’t know he was Cerberus at the time! Or an android!”

“You were trying to sell the EQX?” said Lyra. “You do realize that’s Equestrian property, right?”

“I salvaged it, it’s mine!”

“I don’t have time for this,” said Jack. “Sjdath, I’d give you a beating, except you’d probably like it. Just…no. I can’t deal with this right now.”

She stormed off, and the other two followed.

“Where are we going, anyway?” asked Lyra.

“I never thought I’d have to do this,” said Jack, stepping into an elevator. “But they took Starlight. I can’t get her back on my own. I have to ask for help.”

The last time Jack had been to the Citadel, she had barely been out of childhood. Rebellious, angry, and young. She was now only two of those things. The Citadel did not feel familiar to her, though, nor did it feel welcoming. Back then, she had hated it, seeing all the wealthy and prosperous people walking around ignorant of what was really happening in the galaxy. That, and it reminded her of Shepard. She had decided never to come back, if she could avoid it. Upon returning, she found that she still hated it.

“Jack, they’re staring!” said Sjdath, looking around nervously at the passing citizens.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, it’s probably going three ways,” noted Lyra. “The ugly shirtless alien, the cyborg unicorn, or you. Hey, all these aliens are wearing shirts…is that something you’re supposed to do here?”

“If you’re human, yes.”

“Shut it,” said Jack. “I don’t care if people are staring. Let them. It’s not my problem.”

“Unless you wanted to be inconspicuous, sure.”

Lyra paused at a railing and looked out one of the enormous windows that showed a view of the Citadel’s cityscape. “Impressive,” she said. “This thing is huge. We have megastructures in Equestria, but nothing like this. Probably because it’s not really logical to build something like this when, you know, you could just put it on a planet.”

“We didn’t build it,” said Sjdath. “It’s been here for millennia. Whoever built it in the first place is long dead.”

“Oh,” said Lyra. “Sucks to be them, I guess.” Lyra’s eyes fell on a passing elcor as the large quadruped lumbered by- -specifically on the ends of its front legs. “And does every species here have hands?”

“All except the hanar.”

“Damn. Why did evolution screw me like this?”

“Your body’s robotic. Couldn’t you just build yourself a pair of hands if you wanted them?”

Lyra paused and stood wide-eyed as Sjdath walked past her, following Jack. “Why didn’t I ever think of that?”

“Lyra!” said Jack. “Hurry up!”

“What, you don’t trust me alone?”

“Yeah. I don’t trust the violent, unstable, irresponsible…oh. I sound like Miranda. Damn.”

“Where exactly are we going?” asked Sjdath. “There’s nothing here except overpriced shops that sell pointless craps. What even is a ‘space hampster’?”

“A hamster that lives in space?” suggested Lyra.

“I have a friend here. I think he can help us.”

Sjdath stopped walking. “You have a friend?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s YOU.” Sjdath shook her head. “I hate to think of what kind of person this friend is…”

High in the Citadel, Garrus Vakarian sat in his office, leaning back in his chair and slowly scrolling through the extranet looking at the prices of rifles. He knew that he was supposed to be working, reviewing yet another convoluted trade proposition from the volus designed to skirt the sanctions around the Alliance- -but it was just so boring.

It did not help that he had been given a terrible office. The walls were gray and dull, with a number of windows roughly equivalent to a pre-war geth frigate. There was a port on one of the walls where keepers would occasionally congregate, especially at night, taking up what little space there was with their weird mute presence. In addition, Garrus had been specifically placed below the other Councilors, something intended as an insult. It might have worked, too, if Garrus gave a varren’s butt about traditional turian political maneuvering. In all his time on the Normandy, he had actually come to like relatively dark, windowless, warm places. Ideally places filled with things to calibrate.

Garrus turned toward his secretary, Valena. The narrow-featured turian woman was typing away on her stationary computer consul, as she always did, setting up meetings, handling scheduling, and helping with the mountainous volumes of paperwork that was required to just about anything in the government.

“Hey, Valena,” he said at last. “I was thinking of getting takeout for lunch. What do you think of that new elcor place down on level twenty three? I just heard they’re starting to serve dextro food now.”

“I’ve been there,” said Valena, not looking up from her computer. “It’s okay. If you don’t mind your food taking six hours to prepare and tasting like unsweetened particleboard.”

“Well it can’t be worse than that hanar place out near the docks. I’m pretty sure they accidentally served me one of the chefs.” Garrus leaned back in his chair. “You know what, I wonder if that place down near reactor seven is still there. I haven’t been there since my C-sec days, but damn, they had good donuts.”

“Rons? You know you’ll get levo poisoning from that place.”

“With those donuts, it’s worth it. No wonder so many humans are fat. You want anything?”

“Tea. With extra turian milk. I’ll have someone- -”

“No I’ll go get it.”

“Councilor?”

“How am I supposed to do this job if I don’t talk to my constituents?” That, of course, and the paragraph of volus legalese he had been reading for the last four hours was giving him a headache.

Garrus closed down his computer interface and started to put some of his folders away. Just as he was finally ready to go, he looked up and saw the door to his office ignite with blue light. With a powerful explosion, it tore off its hinges and fell inward into the office.

Valena and Garrus both jumped out of their seats, drawing pistols and pointing them at whatever was coming through the door- -which turned out to be an extremely angry, tattooed, shirtless woman.

“Jack!” cried Garrus, lowering his weapon and motioning for his secretary to do the same. “What the hell! You could have been shot!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she said.

“And what is with it with this door?” Garrus sat back down in his chair, his heart racing. He realized that it had been a long time since he had actually seen real combat, and it showed. “I just had it replaced! Last week, it was Ashley, and before that…” He turned toward his secretary. “Was it Grunt that time?”

“No,” she said. “That time it was Urdnot Wrex. Grunt was a month prior to that, and before that it was the prothean.”

“Prothean? Which prothean?”

Valena gave him a look that he had become accustomed to from her. “Oh.” Garrus looked up at Jack. “It’s not like it’s locked! You could have just opened it like a normal person! And for crap’s sake, put a shirt on!”

“You didn’t complain when we were on the Normandy.”

“You were twenty years younger back then! Tattoos do not count as clothing!

“So you’re implying you appreciated the view back then?” noted Valena.

“I didn’t- -I mean that’s not- -”

Two more followers entered. One was, of all things ,a half-naked vorcha with a breathing apparatus. The other Garrus did not intitially focused on- -until he realized that it was a small armored quadruped.

Garrus’s looked down at the creature, recognizing it from Aria’s security footage.

“You know what, I’m not even going to ask.”

“This place is so clean,” rasped the Vorcha.

“Not anymore,” growled Valena, flopping back into her chair and returning to her typing. “I’m going to have to schedule a cleaner now. You know vorcha aren’t permitted on the Citadel, right? It might breed.”

“Excuse me,” said the vorcha, crossing his- -or her, Garrus could not tell the difference with vorcha- -arms. “I am vorcha, not a human.”

“This place just gets better and better,” added the unicorn. She looked up at Valena. “How the hay do you type with six fingers?”

“Carefully.”

“So let me get this straight.” Garrus rubbed his temples. “You knock down my door and come in here with a vorcha and a horse…and the horse had better not ruin the carpet!”

“Excuse me,” said the unicorn, angrily. “I lost my intestine in the war. How about I pull yours out for the sake of your precious rug?”

“Please refrain from threatening to disembowel the Councilor,” said Valena, sounding bored from having to repeat that line surprisingly often.

“To be honest, I was expecting Vas’Geth this time. What do you want, Jack? That’s the only reason anyone comes to visit me anymore. Or to yell at me.”

“I need help.”

“What did you do this time? Crash another space station into a moon?”

“You crashed a space station into a moon?” said the unicorn.

“ONE time. ONCE. And I don’t regret it. But no. Vakarian, Cerberus kidnapped one of my friends.”

That got Garrus’s attention. He leaned forward onto his desk. “Cerberus? They haven’t been active in years. I mean, we’ve known they still exist, but with the state Earth is in- -”

“They are still real, but they’re getting desperate. Garrus, you know what they did to me. I don’t want them to do the same things to her, and I know they will. Please, Garrus. You know how much I hate asking for help.”

“I just don’t think there’s much I can do. I’m a politician, Jack. And, well…”

Jack stiffened. “It doesn’t concern the Council, does it?”

“No, Jack. That’s not what I- -”

“Actually, it does,” said the unicorn. “The ‘friend’ that they stole was critical property of the Equestrian government.”

“Starlight is NOT property!”

“That’s not the point. She was engineered to serve as a power source for a FTL vessel.” The unicorn turned her oversized eyes- -one of them milky and blind- -to Garrus. “She is what you primitives call a biotic, but on a scale that even we can’t fully fathom. If Cerberus found a way to harness her power, the effects could be devastating.”

“How devastating?”

“Remember how I crashed that satellite into a hanar moon? Replace the satellite with a small moon, and the hanar moon with Palaven.”

“That’s imposible,” said Valena.

“I once saw a human take down a Reaper leviathan with a rocket launcher. I’ve also seen a geth dance. Weirder things have happened.” Garrus looked up at Jack. “I believe you.”

The vorcha looked surprised. “You actually believe any of that?”

“Jack doesn’t usually lie,” noted Garrus. “If she wanted to manipulate me, she’d do it with violence.”

“My kind of strategy,” added the pony.

Garrus looked down at her. “I’m sorry, I just can’t get over the pony. A green unicorn talking to a turian? That is just too ridiculous. I mean, who comes up with this stuff?”

“So are you going to do something, or just push papers?” said Jack.

Garrus groaned. “I can dispatch a spectre to investigate- -”

Jack slammed her fist into Garrus’s desk. “A spectre? They could be forcing Starlight to kill right now, and you just want to send a glorified detective?”

“There’s not much I can do! I’d sent the whole Council fleet if I could, except that you don’t seem to know where Cerberus took your friend. That, and the fleet is currently engaged.”

“Engaged in what?” asked the vorcha.

Garrus looked at Valena, and then back at Jack. “This doesn’t leave the room, okay? But I just had to send most of the fleet to deal with an alien fleet that showed up in geth space. They blew up a mass relay and everything.”

Jack paused. “Wait, you mean THAT ship?”

Garrus looked up at her, and then groaned. “You were there, weren’t you? I should have known…”

The pony pushed past Jack. “Wait a minute- -that ship’s the Harmony. You’re sending your fleet to engage THE HARMONY?!”

“Um, yes?”

“Recall them, now.”

“I’m not going to take orders from a small horse.”

“No, you don’t understand. That’s the Equestrian flagship! If you try to engage, you’ll be slaughtered.”

“It’s just one ship- -”

“It’s a carrier! And with your current level of technology, you won’t be able to even dent it!”

“It’s like seventeen years ago all over again,” said Jack, softly.

“No, it isn’t,” said Garrus. “Because this time, we know they’re coming.” Garrus stood up from his desk. “If this isn’t enough to convince Diagador, I don’t know what is. We’ll need to reinforce the fleet- -”

“You don’t understand,” said the pony, blocking Garrus’s exit. “Pony technology and magic is far more advanced than ANYTHING you’ve ever even seen.”

“I’ve seen a lot of things.”

“But not this! You have no chance of winning! And a one hundred percent chance of starting a war.”

“I’m not trying to win. I don’t even want to have to fight. But we have to be ready. I’m not going to sit here managing sanctions when we could have the new Reapers knocking down our door!”

“But what about Starlight?”

“She’ll have to wait. We’re on the verge of potential galactic conflict- -”

“She can’t just wait, Vakarian!”

“She’s going to have to. Look…Valena, give her the database on known Cerberus locations.”

“Councilor, that’s classified information.”

“Well I’m unclassifying it. Almost all of them are empty anyway.” He turned to Jack. “You know Cerberus better than anyone. I want to help, I really do, but I’m not young anymore. You’re going to have to do this on your own.”

“Fine by me. Thanks for nothing, Vakarian.”

“Don’t give me that, Jack. You know I’m doing what I can.” He stepped over the broken door, which was no laying in the center of his office, and grumbled. “I just calibrated that door too…”

As he left, Lyra looked up at Jack. “He’s charming, isn’t he?”

“He sure is,” said Valena, not taking her eyes off her computer. “Beat cop to vigilante to war hero to one of the most beloved politicians in history. Not to mention that face. And…reach. Damn. If he asked me to, I’d let him bend me over that desk with all three of you watching and lay his hero eggs, but noooo, he has it in for the ardat yakshi…” She looked up, her mandibles clenching. “Crap…I said that one out loud, didn’t I?”

“Turians lay eggs?” asked Sjdath. She looked down at Lyra. “I know I lay eggs. Do ponies lay eggs too?”

“No, we grow up from the ground like potatoes.”

“Oh,” said Sjdath, not grasping Lyra’s sarcasm. “What is a potato?”

“Kartoshka,” said Jack, stomping out of the room.

“Oh. Oh! That does explain a lot.”

“Have the data sent to me,” said Jack, not looking at Garrus’s secretary. “If all my so-called friends are abandoning me, FINE. I’ll get Starlight back myself.”

Chapter 20: Cerberus Wins

A white room, where not much moved. That was where Starlight found herself, secured in place by violet constructs around her fore and rear legs and plugged into the wall by a port in her lower neck. She had tried to pull herself free, but quickly given up on that option. The magic that held her was simply too strong.

She supposed that she should have been grateful that they had not put her back in a ship as an engine, but somehow being trapped in this room was worse. Starlight knew exactly what they were planning. Somewhere out there, they were getting a tube of liquid prepared for her. This room and its bare, white walls would be her last conscious memories before a lifetime of agonizing half-sleep. The fact that she had been given a chance to think about that final outcome- -and to wonder if her friends were still safe, or even alive- -made her imprisonment unbearable.

All she could do was wait for her doom, suspended and unable to escape. There were not even other ponies to be with her, to at least try to explain why. The only time she had seen anything other than the empty room was when they had brought her in, and slightly later when the wall had become transparent. She had looked into the faces of a rainbow-maned, winged pony, as well as three sad looking white winged ponies and a set of robots flanking a hologram of a violet alicorn- -as well as Marc Antony and Bob. Starlight had barely been able to bring herself to look at the group, to let those two be the last vestiges of this galaxy she ever saw, but something had caught her eye.
Bob, who was standing in the back of the group, had smiled and pointed to her own neck, mirroring the Cerberus collar that kept Starlight form using her magic. Starlight had initially seen it as an insult, but something in the look of that sickly human’s eyes made her wonder. It was the same look she had shown when she had detonated Zedok’s shotgun.

Either way, Starlight found herself hating Cerberus, and those ponies that she had seen. They were the ones who had taken her, who had refused to let her live her life for no fault of her own. Not that it mattered, of course. Starlight had lost. There was nothing left for her to do, save to close her eyes and wait for the end, trying to reflect on her short life. She could not even bring herself to cry.

She was not sure how long she stayed there, alone and immobile, before a sound drew her attention. Starlight opened her eyes and looked around the room, not sure where it was coming from- -until she realized that it was coming from her. Or, more specifically, from the Cerberus collar around her neck.

Starlight’s eyes widened as she realized what that meant. She could not recall having used her biotic powers, but somehow the collar was activating. Desperately, she tried to grab at it with her hooves, but she could not move them. So instead she closed her eyes and waited for the blast, wondering if that might be better than the fate awaiting her.

The collar vibrated and then burst open, surging with white energy. The energy arced outward into everything magical inside the room- -to the fields that held Starlight in place and toward the door and lights. All of them immediately interacted with the lightning-like energy and flashed out. Starlight felt herself fall to the floor as the room went dark.

The collar stopped sparking and Starlight frantically pulled it away. It came off easily and clattered to the floor. Whatever mechanism had just activated was still glowing red and smoking as it flickered with tiny white sparks.

“What the hell?” said Starlight. She did not understand what had happened, or why the collar had done that. It even took her a few minutes to realize that she was now free, at least from the magical shackles that bound her.

Even with no idea of what was going on, for the first time since she had been captured, Starlight felt a glimmer of hope. She pulled the tether needles out of the back of her neck and looked around. She spotted a shelving unit on one of the walls, where she knew they had put her armor. She reached out with her magic to open it, but nothing happened. Something was pushing back, like a force inside Starlight’s mind physically holding her back. All that her horn produced were a few weak sparks. Whatever was suppressing her magic was strong, but it felt malleable- -Starlight guessed that she could probably break free of it, but she had no idea what it could do if her magic suddenly breached the field that was holding her back.

Without her magic, Starlight crossed the room and opened the container by hoof. She quickly slipped the armor on- -hoping that she would not need it. As she did, she opened her omnitool, which still worked fine. After breathing a sigh of relief, Starlight checked to see if she could contact her friends. She only found one signal within one hundred kilometers, and it was the one she had detected before to track Lyra’s ship.

“Okay,” she said to herself, trying to calm herself down and organize her thoughts. “I’m trapped on an enemy ship, I’ve got no biotics, no help, and no plan. That’s not good. But I can work with this.”

She crossed the room, stepping over the sparking remains of her collar. The lights were still flickering and dim, and the door hung partially open. Starlight approached it and put her hoof on it, pausing for a moment.

“Right. They’re not going to take me. I can do this.”

Starlight pushed through the door and started to run.

Outside, the hallways were long and clean- -and bizarrely empty. Just large and well-lit, wide enough for six or seven ponies and high enough for the same. The floor seemed to be covered large, white tiles made out of some kind of stone, and Starlight could not help but hear the sound of her hooves as though each step were a deafening thud.

Almost as soon as Starlight started running- -not knowing where she was going, of course, but feeling that it was the only thing to do- -a voice from the walls itself seemed to surround her.

“What are you doing?” it asked. “How did you disable your containment spell?”

Beside Starlight, a series of violet plates appeared, forming the shape of a tall pony wings protruding from her back and a horn emerging from beneath her bangs. She was not running alongside Starlight, but rather slowly flapping her translucent wings as she slid through space.

“I’m escaping,” said Starlight. “I figured that would be obvious.”

“Escape? Why would you do that?”

“You’re not going to put me back. I’m not going back to being used as fuel!”

“You don’t really have a choice. I could calculate your probability of escape, if you’d like. It’s zero. Zero percent, Starlight.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I don’t see why I wouldn’t know your name. You are the Core of the Equalizer. I am Twilight Sparkle, Core of the Harmony.”

Starlight stumbled slightly. “You- -you’re like me?”

“In a sense, yes. Which is why I cannot comprehend your current course of action. Not that it matters, I suppose.”

Starlight turned a corner and slid to a halt. Blocking her path were a number of tall ponies dressed in heavy, golden armor, their masked faces staring directly at her as they immediately began to close in.

The image of Twilight settled silently onto the floor next to Starlight. “We don’t want to hurt you, Starlight. Damage to you could risk reduction to your functionality. As your friend, I recommend that you give up and come peacefully.”

“Give up?” said Starlight, backing away from the approaching guards as several violet, robotic alicorns approached her from behind. “Why would I do that?”

“You are outnumbered, for one. And you have no use of your magic. There is no way you can defend yourself.”

“Well,” said Starlight, smiling defiantly. “You’ve clearly never heard of a sentinel.”

Starlight fell back on her haunches and raised her left arm. Her omnitool sprang up around it, and before the guards had a chance to react or even understand what was going on, a beam of orange energy shot out and landed in the center of their formation. It exploded in a ball of light and orange lightning poured out. The guards caught in the radius convulsed in agony as the neural shock overloaded their bodies and they fell.

Without pausing, Starlight turned to the automatons behind her and produced a barrier, blocking their path.

“What did you do?” Twilight looked around, confused. “I do not understand. I did not account for the presence of alien technology. I did not- -where are you going?”

Starlight was already close to thirty yards away when Twilight suddenly appeared in front of her, blocking her path.

“Stop,” she said. “This entire event is pointless. Try to see this logically. I think if you think about this for a moment, you will see that your emotional reaction to the situation is completely nonsensical!”

“Says you,” said Strarlight. She pushed forward through the hologram- -and slammed into it hard. “Ow!” she cried, falling backward onto the floor.

“What? Why did you just run into me?” asked Twilight, confused.

“I assumed you weren’t solid.”

“Did I ever give any indication that this surrogate was intangible?”

“No, but- -”

“You don’t seem to understand your situation fully,” said Twilight. “You are confused, and scared. I understand that. But you are safe now.”

“SAFE? You’re going to stick me in a tube and use me as an engine. You call that SAFE?!”

“YES. I don’t know why you can’t see that.”

“You’re being used!” cried Starlight. “I don’t know how you don’t see that!”

“Again, you misunderstand,” said a second Twilight hologram appearing beside Starlight. Starlight, in her surprise, backed up- -directly into a third Twilight.

“I am not imprisoned here, Starlight Glimmer. No more than your brain is imprisoned in your body. This ship is my body. I control it absolutely. I’ve allowed you some time to come willingly as a gesture of good faith, so that we can be friends. And yet still you defy me.”

“I won’t go back. I’m not a machine. I’m a pony.”

“No. No you are not. Neither of us are.”

Starlight bolted down a side hallway away from the Twilights, running as quickly as her legs could take her. She threw up several barriers behind her, even though she knew they would do little if anything. From what she understood, Twilight was not a physical entity but rather a magical projection from the inside of the ship itself. Her mind was everywhere, like Armchair’s, but she could materialize at will.

Ahead, Starlight turned toward a gap- -and suddenly saw the wall shift to close it.

“Again,” said Twilight. “I am the Harmony ,and the Harmony is me. I control my internal space absolutely. You cannot escape.”

“I’m really getting tired of your defeatist attitude,” said Starlight, charging the wall that had blocked her path. As ran toward it, she focused all of her energy onto her horn. Twilight pushed back, but Starlight was able to make a momentary space within the field, if only by brute force alone. The dam that held back Starlight’s magic momentarily broke, and she felt as though her body was about to be torn apart by the sudden surge. Struggling to control it, she focused it inward and teleported.

She emerged somewhere else and was immediately knocked into a semiconscious state. The word seemed to swim, and she felt as though her insides had been stirred around. The air was filled with a slight scent of burnt hair, and the surge of the teleportation caused the lights to flicker and partially turn out.

Desperately, Starlight tried to regain her composure. She stood and discovered painfully that the blast had injured her bones. She doubled over and spat a thin trickle of blood onto the floor. “Crap,” she said, wiping her mouth. She knew that there was no chance of managing to do that again.

“Intriguing,” said Twilight, her voice disembodied. “And impressive. Your magical potential is beyond anything I’ve ever seen in a mortal. In fact, if it were possible for me to survive outside the Harmony, you could probably challenge me in single combat.”

“That means…so much,” said Starlight, sarcastically.

“It actually does. Of course, practically, no. Because I’m still in this ship. As long as I’m still connected, well, to be frank, even your magic is relatively insignificant to me.”

Starlight took off running again, ignoring the pain.

“You can’t escape,” said Twilight, becoming increasingly exasperated. “Why are you even trying?”

Starlight knew that she was right. Twilight outclassed her. That was obvious. Without her biotic abilities, there was not much that Starlight could do. Tech could only get her so far. She needed a new plan, a way to play on Twilight’s weaknesses.

Then Starlight rounded a corner and saw a pair of ponies. Both were Pegasi, and both were in uniform; one was pure white, while the other was gray with a straw-colored mane and tail. Upon seeing them, Starlight immediately knew what she needed to do.

Before they could turn around to determine the source of the hoofsteps behind them, Starlight leapt forward onto the gray pony.

“Eep!” she cried, her wings flapping against Starlight’s chest. Starlight held firm, though. She produced a tech blade from her omnitool and held it against the gray mare’s throat.

“Nobody move, or all these clean hallways will get real messy real fast!”

The white pony stepped back in terror, his red eyes panicked. “No, please! Don’t hurt the Rear Admiral!”

“Starlight,” said Twilight, materializing next to her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Taking a hostage! I figured it would be obvious!”

“Just put her down,” said Twilight, stepping forward.

Starlight pressed the orange blade harder against the pony’s neck, and she squealed, trying to pull away from it. “Please don’t cut the top of my muffin!” she squeaked. “I- -I have daughters! They need me!”

“Nobody has to get hurt,” said Starlight. “You choose, princess. Take one step forward, and see what happened.”

Twilight stopped. “What happened to you, Starlight?”

“Equestria happened to me,” hissed Starlight. “Now. I don’t know how pony ranks work, but I think a ‘Rear Admiral’ is pretty valuable. So if you want to keep her, you are going to do exactly what I say.”

Twilight paused for a long moment. “What are your demands?”

“You are going to go away. No holograms following me, no changing the walls. You’re going to let me move freely. And you are going to stop watching. I may not be able to use my magic, but I can sense when you’re watching.”

“I don’t know what you expect to accomplish…”

“Simple. Letting this one see her daughters again. That’s it. But that’s up to you.”

Twilight seemed to consider for a moment. “Fine,” she said. “But one condition.”

“What?”

Twilight pointed to the white stallion. “Him. You keep him with you.”

Starlight turned her eyes, looking at the white stallion, and then looked back at Twilight. “I don’t have any problem with him, and I don’t need two hostages.”

“Then give me Admiral Muffins, and take him.”

“Not a chance.”

“Please,” said the white stallion. “If I can’t take her place, at least let me stay with her. I would not be able to live with myself if I did not do everything within my power to protect her.”

“I need eyes on the Admiral,” said Twilight. “You are showing signs of mental instability. I cannot guarantee that you won’t just kill her the instant I leave.”

Starlight looked at the white pony again, and then back to Twilight.

“So be it. But I’m going to set my omnitool to incinerate. If you try anything- -ANYTHING- -I’m going to toast her muffins. You’ve got that?”

“I understand,” said Twilight. She looked at the albino stallion. “I would not normally delegate this responsibility to one of your kind, but I’m afraid you will have to do.”

“I will not let you down, Princess. I will do everything in my power to keep the Admiral safe.”

Twilight nodded, and then her hologram dissipated. Starlight looked down at the back of Muffins’s head.

“What- -what do you want?!” asked the gray mare, hurriedly.

“A ship. I want a ship.”

“A ship? Well, um…Rainbow Dash and Twilight! Carrot Top and Roseluck! Pinkie Pie and Celestia! Fluttersy and Big Mac, Scootaloo and Trixie…please don’t hurt me! PLEASE!”

“That’s not what I meant! I need a spacecraft!” She lowered the blade and flipped the pony around. When she saw the eyes on the other side, Starlight’s blood suddenly ran cold. It was not the first time she had seen those eyes.

A memory resolved in her mind, pulled from the dark depths of her nightmares. The day they had come to take her away, when they had knocked on her family’s door in the dead of night- -it came back to her, rising to the surface of her conciousoness in detail that she had never hoped to see. Before, the ponies in the dream had not had real faces, just blank, dark expressions where they had been forgotten- -but Starlight remembered those eyes. Those cold, horrible mismatched eyes, staring down at her over a thin, cruel smile from a pony in a black uniform.

“YOU!” cried Starlight, slamming the mare into the ground. “You’re the one who did this to me! It was YOU!”

“I don’t- -I don’t understand- -I don’t remember- -”

Starlight produced her tech blade. “You don’t remember?! You don’t REMEMBER?! Twenty six years ago, you came to my home, you took me away- -YOU made me a Core! YOU took my life, you took EVERYTHING from me!”

Starlight looked down at the blade protruding from her hoof, and felt the rage growing inside her chest. She no longer cared so much about getting out. She just wanted to hurt the derped pony, to beat her face in with every ounce of strength she had, even if that meant losing her only bargaining chip.

“My family…my life…my freedom…they took a child cut me apart, took everything that made me a pony. Made me into a THING, to be used up and thrown away!” Starlight approached the whimpering Pegasus. “So I’m going to kill you. I would say it’s nothing personal, but it is. Because you deserve it.”

“No!” cried the white stallion, throwing himself over the Rear Admiral. “You can’t!”

“Get out of my way.”

“No! Kill me in her place! I don’t matter, but she DOES!”

“You didn’t have anything to do with what happened to me. She did. Get off her.”

“No!”

“She’s right,” whispered Muffins. “She’s right…”

“Rear Admiral?”

Muffins sat up, slowly setting the white stallion into a sitting position beside her. She looked up at Starlight. “Do you think I ever forget? I know who you are. I remember every procurement. You weren’t even the target. A colt named Sunburst was. You were incidental.”

“Incidental?” said Starlight, coldly. “You mean I mattered that little to you?”

“What do you want me to say?” snapped Muffins. “That I’m sorry for what I did? I am- -you can’t possibly understand how much- -but apologizing isn’t going to help you, and it’s not going to undo what I did!”

“Rear Admiral…” said the stallion, watching the tears welling in Muffins’s eyes.

“Yes,” said Muffins. “I was a captain in the Core Procurement Agency. I thought I was helping Equestria. I oversaw the harvest of one hundred and sixty two Cores. And I wish I could take it back, but I can’t.”

“You’re a monster.”

“Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think Celestia hasn’t punished me for what I did?”

“There is no punishment sufficient for what you took from me. From us.” Starlight looked down at her hoof, and the translucent orange blade protruding from her wrist. She realized that she was shaking. “Not even death.” Starlight deactivated the blade. “Stand up. Both of you.”

The albino obeyed immediately and without hesitation, but Muffins took a moment longer, as if she were daring Starlight to skewer her. Eventually, though, she did rise.

“I know there are other ships on this one. Take me to them.”

“You’ll never get away,” said Muffins. “They’ll blow you out of the sky.”

“Let me deal with that.” Starlight pushed Muffins with her omnitool. “Move.”

Muffins started walking, leading the way. The albino fell in line with her.

“You,” said Starlight to the stallion. “What’s your name?”

The stallion looked over his shoulder at her. “985-Station AG1776-Subgroup 37-Heritage GEN 556-Batch 56-Sibling 97.”

“I said your name, not your rank…is that even a rank?”

“No. That is my identification. I don’t have a name.”

“How do you not have a name?”

“I’m sorry. I assumed you knew. I am farm-raised.”

“You mean you grew up on a farm?”

“No. Farm-raised refers to the fact that I was produced on an Agricultural Ministry Pegasus farm.”

“Wait,” said Straight. She stopped walking, and so did the other two “You mean…the farmed you? Like an animal?”

“The procedure is more complex than that, but yes. We have been bred for generations to serve the needs of Equestria. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Starlight turned to Muffins, who was averting her eyes in shame and in two entirely different directions. “You sick bastards.” She looked up at the nameless white pony. “So, what? Are you going to jump me or something?”

“Oh, no,” he said. “We are selectively bred for docility and loyalty. Trying to hurt you would be inconceivable for any of us.”

“Then what do you do?”

“I was purchased for use as a technician on the RENS Smallscale.”

“Purchased?”

“Of course.”

“Is that…is that what you want, though?”

“I do not want anything, except to do what I’m told.”

Starlight looked into the white stallion’s red eyes, and saw that he was perfectly serious. Even stranger- -and sadder- -he garnered no hate toward her, no hostility. He did not even seem to be afraid of her, only reacting with anxiety when the Rear Admiral was put in danger. He could not even tell what was wrong about anything he had just said.

Muffins, meanwhile, seemed to understand completely.

“Why?” said Starlight. “Just…why? This…it’s all wrong. Cores, farmed-grown ponies…” Starlight’s expression hardened. “You know what, I’m glad I’m not considered a pony. I don’t what to be lumped into a group with monsters like you. You make me ashamed to be the same species.”

Muffins looked up at her. “Trust me. You aren’t the only one.”

Slowly, Starlight made her way through the ship. Walking, even with hostages, was somehow far more nerve wracking than running. Starlight kept looking around, wondering if and when Twilight would send another group of guards or robots or suddenly shift the walls. She did not feel anything, but the environment was so unfamiliar that anything could happen at a moment’s notice.

Worse, though, was the thought of what she might have to do if something did happen. The longer she walked, the more her anger began to cool into a steady loathing instead of violent fury. Muffins had done terrible things, not just to Starlight but to so many other ponies, and she deserved punishment- -but Starlight increasingly found herself unable to face the thought of killing her. An omnitool certainly could incinerate things. Starlight knew the temperature, focus, range, and mechanism of action- -but she could only imagine what it would do to a pony. The result would be grotesque and horrible, and she did not want to do that, not even to a monster like Muffins.

After several minutes, a voice sounded from nowhere, causing Starlight to jump.

“Hello?” said Twilight. “Can we talk?”

“You really like playing fast and loose with the Rear Admiral’s life, don’t you?” Starlight gave Muffins’s rump a sharp jab with an omniblade, and the gray mare yelped in surprise.

“I need to keep myself updated on the situation,” said Twilight, firmly. “Don’t worry. I’m not watching. Which is not to say I don’t know where you are, but I can’t not know where you are. Um…grammar…never mind. Breeder, is the Rear Admiral still safe? Is she unharmed?”

“Shaken, but still whole,” said the white Pegasus.

“I’m fine,” said Muffins, her voice wavering just slightly.

“Appearances to the otherwise,” said Starlight, addressing the walls, “I do still have some semblance of my humanity. Even after what she did to me.”

“What is this ‘humanity’?” asked the albino Pegasus.

“Something you ponies apparently don’t have.”

There was a pause, but Starlight felt that Twilight had not gone away.

“Starlight, can we talk?” she said, at last, her voice almost sounding like she was finally bothering to care about what was happening around her.

“We have nothing to say,” replied Starlight coldly.

“Yes, we do. I’d like to apologize for my behavior before. Looking back, I have determined that I likely came across as overbearing, or even threatening. I believe that we got off on the wrong hoof, so to speak. Regardless of how this may seem, we are both Cores, and I sincerely believe that we can be friends.”

“I am not a Core,” said Starlight. “I’m a pony. The same as any pony.”

“Cores are a sub-race of ponies, so in a sense, you are correct.”

“Then why am I being treated like a criminal?”

“Because you are misguided. Cores were not meant to be released from their reactors. You are a clear indication that it causes undue psychological strain.”

“So you’re saying I’m crazy?”

“No, I…” Twilight paused. “Well, yes, but in a treatable way. I think you are confused.”

“Confused about what? You’re going to put me in a tank and take away the rest of my life so that you can power another spaceship. What part am I not understanding?”

“Actually, I was thinking on that subject,” said Twilight, excitedly. “After analyzing your power output, I think- -no, I know with ninety seven point six five ZERO certainty that you would be one of just two modern Cores capable of maintaining consciousness while in suspension. The other being me, of course.”

“No.”

“But- -”

“NO.”

“But you’re not even giving it a chance! I can understand how being a traditional Core can be…offputting…but you have the capacity to be like me. My life is actually great.”

“You’re trapped in a tube and can never move. How is your life better than mine?”

“Well, I have access to the entire Equestrian Royal Library, as well as my own personal collection stored on the auxiliary system. I never have to sleep, or eat. I get to see the whole universe. And, of course, I have so many friends.”

“You don’t have any friends,” said Starlight, darkly.

“Of course I do. There’s Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy, and Scootaloo, and- -”

“They’re not your friends. You’re a Core, remember? Like you want me to be? Not a real pony. They don’t see either of us that way. They’re using you, Twilight, and your just too blind to see it.”

“I’m…I’m your friend, Twilight,” squeaked Muffins.

“And I would like to be,” said the albino Pegasus. “Were I normal pony instead of a breeder, that is.”

“Don’t say that!” hissed Starlight. “You ARE a pony.”

“Well, yes, but to imply the possibility of friendship between myself and a wild pony would be overstepping my station.”

“They are too my friends,” said Twilight, defensively. “I spent the first years of my life in intense training for this position. I was HOOF PICKED by Celestia herself. They respect me as an equal. And I do not regret my decision.”

“Decision?” said Starlight, on the verge of sardonic laughter. “They why don’t you respect MY decision?”

“Because it is incorrect.”

“Oh really?” Starlight paused and looked up at the ceiling. “So you’re saying your life is so great?”

“It is. My life is ideal.”

“Then tell me, what does it feel like to feel the wind of Equestria in your mane? When was the last time you smelled the spring breeze, or watched the leaves change color with your own eyes? Can you ever feel the touch of another pony? Can you even HAVE a special somepony? Can you gallop through a green field? Can you look a pony in the eye and have them look back at you as an equal, not hating you for being a piece of equipment with the audacity to be in their ‘superior’ presence?”

Twilight was silent for a long moment. “No.”

Starlight frowned, and then turned back to her hostages. She saw that Muffins was crying, and the nameless albino Pegasus was trying to comfort her and failing. “And what about the others?” she said. “The ones that didn’t get to choose? That don’t get to experience anything, that just have their lives cut off at childhood. What about them, Twilight?”

“It was their destiny. It was all our destinies.”

“Destiny?! To lose everything for YOUR benefit?”

“All ponies are born with a destiny. A mark, as special talent. They were not made into Cores. They were born that way. Powering ships is their special talent. You cannot circumvent it.”

“Not for me.”

“You can’t fight destiny, Starlight Glimmer.”

“Yes I can! And I will. You’re not always right, Twilight, regardless of what you may think.”

“I am Twilight Sparkle. I am always correct.”

Starlight lifted her hoof and projected her omnitool. Without hesistation, she shot a small bolt of energy into Muffin’s front foreleg. Muffins cried out in pain, grabbing her hoof in surprise, looking down at the small round burn.

The albino Pegasus turned to Starlight in shock, his red eyes wide with disappointment and the complete inability to understand why Starlight was hurting his friend. “Why- -why would you do that to her? She didn’t even do anything!”

“The next one goes in her eye,” said Starlight, feeling her heart wrench at the sight of the pitiful Rear Admiral in pain, even being fully aware of her crimes. “Go away, Twilight. No more talking.”

“Starlight, you’re- -”

Starlight pointed her omnitool at Muffin’s face, and the gray mare closed her eyes as though eyelids were somehow able to stop lasers designed to weld steel.

Twilight stopped speaking. Starlight knew that she was still there, somewhere, but she had moved back to a safe distance.

“Get up,” said Starlight.

“No,” said the albino Pegasus, interposing himself between Starlight and Muffins. “You can’t just go and do something like that! Not to her!”

“It was just a little burn- -”

“It doesn’t matter! She’s served Equestria for longer than you’ve been alive, and she’s the most loving mother I’ve ever met! You can’t just treat her like that! For somepony who claims to be a pony, you sure aren’t acting like one!”

“You know she deserves it. She deserves worse for what she’s done.”

“You have no idea what she has had to- -”

“No,” said Muffins, standing. “No, I do deserve it.” She rubbed her hoof against the small circular mark and produced a fake smile. “It isn’t even that bad. “I burn myself way worse on my muffin trays. From when I make muffins.”

Starlight looked at Muffins, and then grumbled to herself. “Come over here,” she said, looking away.

Muffins took a step forward, but the albino Pegasus stopped her. “No. It isn’t safe,” he said.

“If she wanted me dead, I’d be dead,” said Muffins, softly. “Celestia knows Equestria would be a better place if I was…”

She gently pushed the Pegasus to the side and approached Starlight.

“Hold out your hoof,” said Starlight.

Muffins hesitated, but then slowly extended her foreleg.

“The other one, I mean. You know, the one with the burn on it?”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Muffins extended the correct foreleg, and Starlight put her omnittol over it. She engaged the healing protocol, dispensing a small amount of what little medigel she had stored. On contact, the burn shifted, its raw and charred surface becoming lumpy and pink. After several seconds, it smoothed and thin gray hair sprouted over it.

“Oh wow!” said Muffins. “It’s like it’s not even there!”

“So medigel does work on ponies,” said Starlight. “Who knew.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.” Starlight walked past her. “I’m the one who did it to you. And I still hate you.”

“Um…Starlight,” said Muffins, her voice wavering again.

“What?” said Starlight, turning around.

“I just…I have a question.”

“I don’t really have much time. Planning an escape and all.”

“It’s just that…does being a Core…does it hurt?”

“Right now? No. But when they put me in that machine, yes. Yes it does. But it’s not the pain I’m afraid of.”

“Then what?”

Starlight looked into Muffins’s derped eyes. “Because when you’re in there, you’re not entirely asleep. You’re just aware enough to feel that something’s wrong, to feel the ship around you, to have your body forced to do whatever they tell you. When you’re in there, there’s nothing left of you that’s a pony, and on some level you know that. And you know you can’t ever leave. That’s what it feels like to be a Core. That’s what YOU did to me. And that’s why I’m not going back.”

“I wish I had known…”

Starlight pushed Muffins onward. “So do I. So do I…”

The hallway eventually widened and, finally, gave way to an immense room on the outer edge of the Harmony, a huge landing bay. At the edge of the white-lit room, Starlight paused and took a deep breath.

“Are you ready for this?” she said, not just to herself but to Muffins.

“I am,” said Muffins.

“Really? You sound pretty confident. Because if one pony- -just one- -makes a wrong step, I’m going to scramble your raisons, you know that, right?”

“Please don’t,” said the albino Pegasus. “Just take this calmly. They are reasonable ponies.”

“Yes. Reasonable slave-owning ponies in a hanger filled with lethal war machines powered by trapped, dying unicorns. Yeah. Okay.”

Starlight raised her hoof and projected her omnitool, the incinerate ready. She then forced Muffins into the large room.

“Nobody move or I bake this muffin!” she cried. Ponies throughout the room looked toward her- -as expected, there were a large number of them, most of them dressed in uniforms and flight suits mingling amongst robotic alicorns. A few were farm-raised albinos, but many were multicolored and unique. Starlight was actually struck by their color; she had never seen so many ponies in one place at once, not even when she was a little filly.

They all looked up- -even the robots- -and they immediately seemed confused. A murmur overtook the crowd, and Starlight could hear some of the things she was saying.

“Is that a Core?”

“How did it get out?”

“What is she wearing?”

“Oh no, that’s the Rear Admiral!”

“Somepony do something!”

“I’ve never seen one outside of the core before…”

The albino Pegasus following behind Starlight spoke up. “Everypony, if you would be so kind as to stand back. This situation is under control.” He looked directly at Muffins, who was looking back over her shoulder, terrified. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“It had better be,” mumbled Starlight. She felt sweat dripping down her forhead.

Muffins led her to one of the several ships in the room- -and Starlight felt an immediate pang of panic when she saw the hulking, boxy, asymmetrical vehicle she had been brought to.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, looking up at it. All around her were small, sleek fighters and micro-destroyers. Instead of taking Starlight to any of those, Muffins had brought her to a decrepit freighter- -one Starlight recognized from the battle before.

“It’s empty, I promise. And it’s the only one I know how to get into,” said Muffins. “Although sometimes Scootaloo has to help me…”

“It’s fine,” said Starlight quickly. She looked around the room, and saw the ponies starting to close in just a little bit. She could feel Twilight watching from every one of those purple robots, their horns charged and ready to fire. Starlight was doing her best to keep Muffins between her and the potentially deadly beams, but she knew that time was short.

Starlight stepped onto the open docking platform of the freighter, and immediately felt slightly relieved- -even though the hard part had yet to come. She paused, and then looked back at the albino Pegasus.

“You can come with me, you know,” she said. “You don’t have to live like this.”

For the first time, his expression fell, if only slightly. “You know…sometimes I wish I could. I think we all do. But I can’t. I have responsibilities to Equestria, to my ship, and to its Core. I can’t.”

“Fine.” Starlight paused. “And thank you.”

She started to walk onto the rail, preparing to project tech armor around herself if need be, when a thought struck her. She turned back to Muffins.

“What ever happened to Sunburst?” she asked.

Muffin’s expression fell. “He…” she took a deep breath. “He didn’t survive the conversion procedure. Some don’t. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. He was lucky.”

Starlight stepped up onto the ramp and closed it. As it raised, several magical surges pour from the crowd toward her. They were too late, though; Starlight was already racing toward the bridge.

Never before in her life had Starlight moved so quickly. It took her mere seconds to reach the front of the ship. Through the glass window, she could see alicorn robots ushering ponies away and surrounding the ship, some coating it in violet magic.

Starlight flopped down in the largest chair on the bridge and looked around.

“Aw hell,” she said. “I have no idea how to fly a ship!” A bolt of magic rocked the vessel, and Starlight smelled smoke. They were cutting their way in. “Well, guess I’ll learn. Hopefully not in a crash course…”

She reached out toward the frames that surrounded the chair, and they flickered to life as a number of flat blue screens. Starlight considered them for a moment, her eyes flitting from one to the other as she assessed the shapes and patterns that covered them.

“Oh,” she said. “That’s it?”

She opened her omnitool, and orange constructs sprang out, linking her to the ship’s system. She began tapping furiously on the ship’s controls while her omnitool engaged the startup process.

“Sheilds are…on,” said Starlight, activating them. The magic feedback from the sudden startup broke the force that the alicorns were using to hold the vessel in place; some of the robots detonated form the reflected force.

“Cool. Now…let’s see…”

With a few more commands entered into the system, the ship rose into the air, turning as it took flight. It wobbled slightly, and then Starlight put the impulse acceleration into maximum. She was pushed back into her seat as the ship sprung forward. It was by no means fast; in fact, it felt like Starlight was trying to drive a krogan-sized chariot pulled by a single anemic vorcha. Still, buzzing over the fighters and other vessels through the narrow flightcourse and watching the ponies below duck for cover made Starlight FEEL like she was going fast.

Ahead, the release door had been closed, locking the hanger bay closed.

“Crap,” said Starlight, looking over the controls quickly. “I know this thing has a main gun- -main gun main gun MAIN GUN?!”

The alloy door was approaching fast, and Starlight began to panic- -until she found the controls for the frontal cannon. She armed it, hoping that if it could punch through a geth made of windows it could cut through a door.

Starlight fired. A beam of blue light pulsed forward, cutting into the metal and the violet containment shield beyond it. With another blast, the hole widened- -but not enough. Bracing herself, Starlight pushed the ship through, feeling parts of it grab on the melted metal of the door and break free. Several alerts sprang up on her controls, indicating that she had lost several communication pylons and stabilizers. The ship lurched, but Starlight compensated, shifting power to the remaining stabilizers and then devoting full power to the engines.

“Come ON!” cried Starlight as the vessel shuddered and lurched its way into FTL. “Of course, trust the derped psychopath to give me THIS!”

The entire vessel was suddenly rocked by a tremendous force. Starlight was nearly thrown free of her seat, and she looked at the control panels to see that there was a massive hull breach on the port side- -and that she was being followed by an entire contingent of interceptors as well as the Harmony itself.

“Damn it!” she cried, slamming her hoof onto the panel. It flickered, and she tried to put more power into the shields- -just as another barrage slammed into the top surface of her ship.

Starlight looked at the readouts. “I don’t have enough power! This ship is- -”

She suddenly realized what she needed to do. She swiveled the chair and leapt out, leaving the tech projection from her omnitool to keep the ship moving and to at least attempt an evasion pattern. She then ran back down the way she had come.

The ship was rocked again and again as Starlight galloped down the hallway, but she knew exactly where she was going. Her magic was quickly returning, and she could sense the layout of the ship. The hull on her path was still largely intact, but it was only a matter of time before the oncoming fleet disabled the bulky, slow vessel. Starlight knew that there was only one way to outrun them.

She shivered as she entered the engine room, but did not allow the sight of the cramped machinery and the large central cylinder to deter her. She quickly approached the center and opened a control panel. It flickered and barely activated- -the ship barely had enough power to hold a proper field and run the engines at the same time.

Quickly, Starlight disengaged the blast coating around the ship’s central reactor. It twisted, and then pulled apart in the center to reveal a large glass tube filled with yellow liquid- -and a blue unicorn, her spinal and skull wired to the ship, providing it with the biotic energy it needed to function.

Starlight momentarily charged the backup coils- -at the current expenditure rate, they would only last a few seconds, but that would be enough- -and then approached a large mechanical handle. She reached out and grasped it with her magic, pulling it downward. A mechanical system engaged, and the central tube bubbled. Starlight pulled it into the second position, and cap on the bottom of the glass tube fell away.

Yellow amniotic fluid poured onto the floor, filling the room with a subtle, indescribable smell- -but one that Starlight immediately recognized. The wires and tubes attached to the Core disconnected, and she poured out too, sliding in the torrent of fluid onto the floor, her cables trailing behind her.

Disconnected from her tube, the Core stirred slightly, slowly waking up.

“Scootaloo,” she said. “The Great and Powerful Trixie…said she didn’t want to ever…” She looked up at Starlight, who was rapidly grabbing the cables from the bottom of the tube in her magic. Her eyes widened. “You’re- - you’re not Scootaloo!”

“Nope. I’m Starlight Glimmer.”

“You’re a Core,” said Trixie, confused. “No…you’re THE Core! The one we were chasing!”

“In the pony flesh.”

“But you- -why are you- -the Great and Powerful Trixie DEMANDS that- -”

The ship was rocked by another blast. This hit with enough force to send Trixie sliding with a cry across the slippery floor. Starlight held her grip, and started attaching the Core cables to her own implants.

“What was that?!” cried Trixie, looking around in frantic confusion.

“Well, I stole this ship, and we’re now under attack from the Harmony and half the Equestrian fleet.”

“We’re WHAT?!”

“Yeah,” said Starlight, finishing the assembly by plugging several oddly long jacks deep into her skull. “I’m sorry I had to wake you up, but I need to use this.”

“HMPF! I don’t know what you expect to do that the GREAT and POWERFUL Trixie couldn’t- -”

Starlight took a breath and interfaced herself to the system. The pain was excruciating, worse than she remembered. The system tried to overtake her, but Starlight forced her mind back into it, retaining consciousness. As soon as she did, she felt her magic pouring out of her and into the ship around her. Every piece of equipment in the engine room ignited with fiery blue energy, causing Trixie to cry out. Then the ship blasted forward at twenty times the speed it had been going.

“How- -how are you staying conscious?”

“Because who else is going to fly this thing? You? Hold on…” Starlight focused her mind on the external sensors. Immediately, her mind was overwhelmed with information. For a moment, she saw the entire sum of the galaxy. Every star, ever planet, every vessel, as though she had just come into possession of the most detailed starchart in history- -and it had been rammed directly into the middle of her head.

The process was more than disorienting, but Starlight rapidly focused. In all that noise, she looked for one signal, a single familiar biotic. For a moment, she felt nothing, and started to become disheartened and afraid. There was just too much noise, and the galaxy was just too big.

Then the sensors picked up something. The signal was weak, but Starlight reconstructed the spell to increase her focus. Far across the galaxy, she saw it: a floating megastructure, an enormous mass relay- -and inside it, she felt the presence of one particular biotic: her first friend since she had been reborn into the world.

Several more impacts peppered the ship’s hull. Trixie looked up at the sound, terrified.

“You can’t outrun them! That’s the HARMONY! It’s powered by TWILIGHT SPARKLE herself, the fastest ship in all of Equestria! There’s no way this thing can fly faster than she can- -believe me, I’ve been in that tube for most of my life!”

“I don’t need to fly faster than them,” said Starlight, smiling. “What did you say your name was? Trixie?”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie, yes.”

“Well then, Trixie, hold onto something. I’ve never moved something this big before, but it should work. Probably. Maybe. Possibly.”

“Moved? What do you mean move?”

Starlight did not bother to explain. She focused her magic through her horn and through her implants, feeling it expand exponentially in the ship’s machinery, saturating the space around the ship with an imponderable shield, one that rapidly began to collapse around the space containing the ship itself.

Rainbow Dash stumbled onto the Harmony’s bridge, a female breeder close in tow.

“What the buck, Twilight!” she shouted, somewhat drunkenly. “I was trying to sleep, and you wake me up AGAIN?”
Rainbow Dash looked up at the enormous window of the bridge, and saw the subtle shift in the position of stars that indicated that the Harmony was moving. Twilight, in her normal hologram form, was staring directly forward out the main window.

“We…have a bit of a situation,” said Twilight, reluctantly.

Rainbow Dash immediately became slightly less drunk. “What kind of a situation?”

“The Core Starlight Glimmer has escaped.”

“ESCAPED?!” Rainbow Dash trotted to Twilight’s side and looked out the window. Locked in the center was a boxy, ugly deep-space vessel, the window surrounding it annotated heavily with an overlay of Twilight’s violet magic. “Wait,” said Rainbow Dash. She turned to Twilight. “What ship is that?”

“The RENS Rainbow Dash.”

“My sister’s ship?! What in Tartarus did you- -”

“She’s not on board. Nopony is.”

“That doesn’t matter! How did a Core even- -”

Several fighters screamed by, silent in the vacuum of space, their turrets blazing with concentrated magic in various colors. The impact struck the feeling vessel and it lost part of its stabilization. Part of it burst open, and it struggled to remain on course and to remodulate its already badly weakened shields.

“Crap,” said Rainbow Dash. “Twilight, what are MY ships doing out there?”

“Not helping, clearly. Hence why I woke you up.”

“Right.” Rainbow Dash was given an earpiece by her breeder. Rainbow Dash fitted the device into her ear while the breeder opened a hovering violet panel to assist as needed. “This is Fleet Commander Rainbow Dash. All ships, back off the RENS…” she sighed. “Back off the Rainbow Dash and hold position at five hundred meters. Wait for my orders. Let their shields regenerate.”

“Regenerate?” said Twilight. “I cannot freeze their motion with the shields intact.”

“No, but you can launch a phasic barrage, right?”

Twilight raised one eyebrow. “I can. But if I used that spell on a ship with full shields, its Core would overload. On that ship, it would not survive.”

“That’s the point. If we just keep shooting at it, we lose the EQX. So we take out their engine. The Core Scoots’s ship has is crap anyway.”

“Language, Dash. But you are correct. The Core of the RENS Rainbow Dash is called Trixie. She is expendable.”

“Fleet Commander,” said the breeder, looking up at Twilight’s annotations and interpreting the arcane images. “The fleeing vessel has just switched to auxiliary power.”

“Oh, well, that solves a problem,” said Rainbow Dash, smiling up at the screen. The ugly vessel outside continued to fly, but its shields flickered before finally going out. “I guess that Core couldn’t take the strain. All ships, converge on- -”

The engines of the struggling vessel suddenly ignited in a plume of blue light and it shot forward with immense speed.

“What the- -what the HAY!” cried Rainbow Dash, unable to believe what she was seeing. “Twilight- -what did it just do?”

“Intriguing,” said Twilight, softly. “The magical signature is different. It’s hers.”

“Hers?”

“She must have found a way to replace the Rainbow Dash’s Core with herself.”

“So- -no way, that thing’s got the EQX in it now?”

“It’s not a problem,” said Twilight. The Harmony vibrated slightly, and Rainbow Dash felt herself being pushed back by the inertia of the sudden acceleration. Her ships were immediately left behind as the Harmony pursued the Rainbow Dash, rapidly gaining on it.

“As a Core, she is roughly equivalent to myself,” said Twilight. “And apparently brilliant. I can only assume that she is simultaneously powering the vessel AND piloting it, which is truly a feat of mental fortitude. She truly will make a good friend, once she sees the truth.”

“If we can catch her.”

“Of course we can. That vessel has an obsolete engine architecture designed for a weak Core. It cannot handle her full power. Look.” Twilight’s magic on the screen shifted, surrounding the image of the ship as it grew closer. “She’s already reached top speed. Interception should be- -”

The magic annotations flashed violently and displayed more runes that Rainbow Dash did not know how to read. “Breeder, what’s- -”

Her question was answered before she could ask it. Just before they overtook it, space shifted around the vessel outside and, in a flash of blue light, it vanished.

“It teleported,” said Rainbow Dash, at first in disbelief. Then, in anger. “She TELEPORTED! Great, Twilight, what are we supposed to do now?”

“Don’t get your non-regulation length tail knotted. I’ve already tracked her teleportation trajectory. I’m preparing to pursue in- -”

Twilight’s digital eyes suddenly widened as she trailed off. The breeder seemed not to notice, but Rainbow Dash immediately knew that something was wrong. The look on Twilight’s face was one of absolute confusion, terror, and pain. Rainbow Dash watched as Twilight’s hologram quivered slightly, and then slowly raised a hoof to her chest as her mouth dropped open. Then the hologram flickered out of existence. At the same time, the lights darkened and the magical annotations on the window vanished.

The breeder looked down at where her magical screen had just been. “We seem to have lost power,” she said, perplexed. When she looked up to the Fleet Commander for further instructions, all she saw was a blur of rainbow color as Rainbow Dash departed the bridge at top speed.

Far below, in the cavernous engine room of the Harmony, several alicorn robots crumpled to the ground, their metal bodies clattering to the floor as they fell. The lights of the room fell, leaving the only source of illumination the shimmering blue light emanating from the masses of blue crystals that surrounded the extensive intercalating machinery.

In the center of the room, a single translucent column stood, the centerpiece of the most advanced piece of technology in the entire Equestrian Empire. Encased in that single crystal was an emaciated alicorn, her wings mostly cut away to make way for the cables and wires that connected to the stumps and to the extensive implants in her spine and head. She seemed to grimace in pain, shaking slightly inside her crystal container, and then went still.

The room fell silent, and the only sound was the slow trickling of the red liquid dripping from the five bullet holes through the crystal case and into the alicorn’s chest.

Bob smiled, and lowered the revolver in her left hand and blowing away the thin wisp of smoke that was drifting out of the end. “I loves me a Chekhov’s gun,” she said, licking the long barrel of the primitive weapon.

Having no bullets to reload it, Bob promptly threw away the weapon and stared up at the broken alicorn. She lifted the contents of her right hand- -a white, severed pony foreleg- -and took a large bite out of it, savoring the raw flesh as she admired her handiwork. Tastewise, it was not terrible; on a scale of drell to asari, it rated as approximately equal to yahg.

“Well,” said Bob, throwing the leg away and wiping the blood from her mouth. “That was satisfying. Back to work, though.” She reached into her belt and removed a narrow device, which she extended into a long hypodermic needle. Bob looked up at the alicorn. “I’m not sure if you’re still alive in there, but don’t worry. I tested this on Marc Antony. Let’s just say, it’s going to hurt. A LOT.”

Without waiting for the preserved pony to respond- -Bob doubted it could anyway- -she jammed the needle through one of the holes in the crystal, penetrating the alicorn’s body.

As she inserted the device, Bob caught a glimpse of something fast-moving approaching in the reflection of the crystal. She dodged quickly, reaching out with her cybernetic arm and grasping a blue pony who had flown up behind her. With a quick motion, Bob threw her across the room, where she landed against the floor with a resounding thump.

“Well, if it isn’t the raunchy rainbow! I didn’t really expect anyone to figure out I was down here so fast. Props, I guess. Points off for not stopping me from making your goddess horse a little more holey, though.”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!” Rainbow Dash regained her wind after being thrown to the ground and stood, taking an aggressive stance.

“Um, yeah. Clearly. Because I did it.”

“You little alien BITCH! You were supposed to be our friend!”

Bob smiled widely. “Oh, I am! Do you know what ‘friend’ means?” Her smile vanished. “It’s the first person to stab the knife in your back. Believe me, I would know. I’ve punctured a lot of friends.” Bob shrugged. “But, frankly, I don’t dislike you pones. I’m just doing what Cerberus pays me to do.”

“I don’t know if you’re insane or just stupid,” said Rainbow Dash, laughing at Bob’s ignorance. “There’s a reason I’m the leader of the Equestrian navy. If you think you’re going to get off this ship alive, well, you’re not the fluffiest cloud in the sky, are you?”

Rainbow Dash raced forward at full speed, intent on ramming the ugly alien- -only to feel a metal claw reach out and surround her neck.

“Yeah, about that,” said Bob. “I don’t really know what you expect to do to me. I mean, look at you. Hooves? Flat teeth? Plus, you’re like, half my size. I don’t really know what you expect to do to me. It’s as if your entire biology was designed for hugging, not fighting.”

Without warning, Bob slammed Rainbow Dash into the ground at full force. Rainbow Dash cried out from the shock of the sudden impact, her mind flashing from the blow but recovering just in time to have her face slammed with equivalent force into Twilight’s crystal containment reactor. Blood spurted out of Rainbow Dash’s nose, covering the smooth surface of the reactor and dripping down it, joining the rapidly growing pool of Twilight’s own blood.

“Now see, me on the other hand,” said Bob, pulling Rainbow Dash back and ramming her into the ground again. “My body is designed to kill.” She lifted Rainbow Dash up into the air and brought her down again. Rainbow Dash struggled to escape, but Bob’s metal hand only squeezed tighter until she could no longer breathe.

“Frankly,” said Bob, moving Rainbow Dash to eye level. “I don’t terribly much like Cerberus. Far too obsessed with bizarre subversion and macho displays of power. But they are right. The galaxy belongs to humans. We are simply superior, aren’t we? Not physically, but in what we’re able to do. Just look at me! I’m about to violently murder a beautiful winged pone without an ounce of remorse! And I don’t even have to! I just want to, for the lols!”

Rainbow Dash spit out some blood and tooth fragments. “You think I’m beautiful? Didn’t take you…for a filly fooler…”

Bob’s smile faded slightly, and she lifted Rainbow Dash into the air. This time, though, instead of smashing her into something, she threw her. Rainbow Dash bounced off the hard surface of the floor and landed in a heap, breathing hard. She was in considerable pain, but she still tried to stand as Bob walked behind her- -only to feel a knee in her back pinning her to the floor.

Bob put her weight onto Rainbow Dash’s back and reached out with her left hand, holding her head against the floor. Then she looked down at the pair of rapidly beating wings below her. One was white and moving much more slowly than the other. Bob noticed that there was a surgical scar at the base.

“So,” she said. “You’re people have figured out organ transplants. Impressive. But I already know what the white ones taste like.” She turned her attention toward the blue wing and began to salivate. “This one, though…”

Bob reached down and grasped the base of the wing, Rainbow Dash struggled, but in her Cerberus armor, Bob was heavy enough to keep her pinned.

“Let me go, you motherbucker!”

“Language, please,” said Bob, fondling the wing. “You know, I’d suspect that Pegasus wing sashimi is terribly hard to prepare…” She smiled as she gripped the base of the wing hard. “But I’m pretty sure I can pull it off.”

With one swift jerk, she pulled the wing, dislocating it with a loud crack. The pony it was connected to screamed in agony and struggled even harder than before.

“Relax!” cried Bob, still griping the now limp wing. “I mean, come on! I just chewed off my own arm at the shoulder like, five scenes ago. This can’t hurt that bad. Besides, if anything, I’m making you less of a freak of nature.”

Bob gripped the wing, preparing for a second pull to remove it freely- -something she had actually had a chance to practice before coming down here. She was already growing hungrier at the thought of that strong white meat, fresh and still bleeding.

Just as she started to remove it, though, something hit her from behind, knocking her off the blue pony’s back.

“What the hell!” she cried, only to punctuate her surprised exclamation with a shriek of surprise as something sunk its teeth into her lower right neck. The pain was equisite, like electrical shocks and acid pouring into Bob’s flesh. She turned to see a yellow pony face framed with pink hair and a pair of rapidly beating wings sinking her teeth into Bob’s shoulder- -a face with sadistic red eyes.

Something else hit Bob’s left leg, plunging more teeth into it, but Bob ignored it in favor of the red-eyed pony. She punched her in the face repeatedly, but the yellow pony simply would not let go. Not at first, at least. Eventually Bob managed to dislodge her enough to push her away. To Bob’s dismay, she saw that this pony actually did have teeth- -multiple four-inch fangs, now covered in human blood.

“What the- -oh crap,” said Bob, dropping to one knee. The world seemed to be shifting and darkening. The pain in her arm was spreading up to her head and down into her torso, accompanied by a strange numbness. Bob had spent enough time with Cerberus as a child to know what that meant.

“Venom. You poisoned me.”

“Yes,” said the yellow pony. Her voice was oddly soft and high, completely at odds with her demonic appearance and apparent viciousness. She stood over her wounded friend, defending the rainbow-maned pony. “If you were a pony, you’d be dead by now. I’m surprised you’re even still conscious. I’m really sorry that it hurts so bad.”

“Are you kidding? Do you know how much Jack would laugh at me if THIS took me down? I’ve had worse.”

“I’m sure you’ve lived a hard life. But that doesn’t give you an excuse to hurt my friends.”

Bob reached into her boot- -which, she saw, was firmly in the jaws of a tiny varren- -and removed a knife. As she did, the yellow pony rushed forward, her fangs fully out and aiming for Bob’s head. In her envenomed state, Bob could not do much, but was able to plunge the knife firmly into the center of yellow pony’s chest and give it a good twist.

The yellow pony stepped back and looked down at the blade. To Bob’s surprise, she did not seem especially concerned about it. Just mildly annoyed. Then, without even seeming to care much, the pony took the handle in her mouth and pulled it out. The blade was followed by a thin trickle of a putrid clear fluid.

“What the hell?” said Bob, now mostly collapsed from the venom. “Not even a cute little whimper?”

“I’ve had worse,” said the yellow pony, shrugging and pushing back her soft pink hair. “Believe me, it’s not my first penetration. Oh my. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Bob laughed. “Nice one. I will enjoy eating you.”

“Sorry. I don’t swing that way.” She started walking forward toward Bob. “Aside from that, well, I really am sorry, but for what you did to Dashie and to Twilight, well…I hate culling the herd, but sometimes, it’s necessary for the good of the population as a whole. I’m sure you’ll understand.”

“I don’t think you’ve got stomach for it.”

“You haven’t ever fought a demon, have you?”

“You’d be surpised. Hey,” she pointed down at the varren trying to eat her leg. “Is this your dog?”

“Yes. His name’s Baron. And he doesn’t like you.”

“Thanks. That’s all I needed to know.”

Bob reached down with her robotic arm and yanked the varren of her leg, holding it up by its head between her on the oncoming pony. “One more step, and I pop a puppy!”

The yellow pony gasped, and her red eyes shifted back to bright blue. “You- -you wouldn’t dare!”

“Really? Cannibalistic Cerberus agent here, almost killed your friend, probably killed your other friend? Do I look like I’m joking?” To punctuate her point, she increased the tension on the creature’s head. It whined in pain and struggled futilely against the crushing force against its skull.

“No! Please, don’t hurt him!”

“Fluttershy, forget the weird fish dog and GET HER!” cried Rainbow Dash, partially managing to stand behind her. “Look what she did to Twilight! We can’t just let her get away with this!”

“But Baron! He’s just an innocent little creature! I- -I can’t let him get hurt!” Fluttershy glared at Bob. “You fiend! You give Cerberus a bad name!”

“You don’t say,” said Bob, struggling to stand against the effects of the pony venom. “Jeez, what are you, the illusive man?” Bob leaned back against the crystal containing the alicorn and removed the oversized needle from where she had left it. The indicator on the side showed that it was full. The marrow sample had been taken. “Well,” she said. “I guess my work is done here.” With her remaining strength, she threw the varren to the yellow pony. “Hurting a puppy…I can’t believe you actually fell for that one. What kind of monster do you think I am?” She hobbled to a clear spot on the floor. “Oh, and give my regards to that Starlight girl when you get her back. If you can, because, you know, I think I just totaled your ship. A good distraction is worth its weight in vodka.”

Bob waved, and then in a flash of yellow sky and reddish earth vanished into the aether, leaving Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash alone.

Fluttershy set her varren down on the floor. He whimpered a little bit, but was otherwise okay. Then Fluttershy turned her attention to Rainbow Dash.

“Celestia banish her smelly alien soul to Tartarus,” swore Rainbow Dash. She looked back at her wing and became unusually pale. “Oh sweet Luna…It’s broken. She broke my wing! They’re- -they’re going to need to amputate it, aren’t they? Not again, I can’t- -I can’t lose my good wing- -”

“Calm down, Rainbow Dash,” said Fluttershy, approaching Rainbow Dash from behind. “Everything’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay, and so is your wing.”

Rainbow Dash sniffled slightly. “You’re voice is really calming. You know that, right?”

“Oh, thank you,” said Fluttershy. She reached out and gently lifted the damaged wing. Rainbow Dash cried out and pulled it away. “It’s just dislocated. I’m going to set it back in, and it should be fine.”

“Set it- -shouldn’t we call a doctor?”

“Rainbow, I’ve done this hundreds of times. In birds. And twice on myself. It’s going to be okay.” She gently lifted the wing, positioning it.

“Is it…is it going to hurt?”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“One? Two? Three…?”

“Eleven.”

Rainbow Dash whimpered.

“You can hug Baron if you want. A soft, cuddly animal always makes the pain better.”

“I’m not hugging the fish dog, Fluttershy.”

“You’re loss. Okay. On the count of three. One…”

“Wait, does that mean on three or after- -”

“TWO!”

With one swift and precise pull, Fluttershy immediately undid Bob’s work. The wing slid back and into its joint. Rainbow Dash, oddly, did not scream. She just let out a low squeak and nearly passed out.

“There,” said Fluttershy. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? How do you feel?”

“Awesome,” wheezed Rainbow Dash weakly.

Fluttershy turned her attention toward Twilight, and felt her heart break slightly. “Her, though…I can’t fix her.”

“Yeah,” said Rainbow Dash, standing up. She tapped on her headset, trying to summon an engineering team, but found that it was not working. Without Twilight’s magic, nothing worked- -and the fact that there was no magic left was terrifying. “Don’t worry, Fluttershy,” she said, putting her hoof on the Tartaran’s shoulder. “I’m not going to let this go. Not after what they did to her, or to me, or you. I’m going to make them pay. Every last one of those aliens. They are all going to pay for what they did here today.” Her expression darkened. “An attack on the Harmony, on an alicorn…they clearly wanted a war. So that’s what they’ll get.”

Chapter 21: The Return

Jack leaned over the railing overlooking the Citadel docks and stared out through the thick glass. Outside, ships of every shape and size were slowly maneuvering through the mostly enclosed space, slowly falling into positions determined by precise onboard computers. Heavy freighters drifted outside, connected to the Citadel by long umbilicals, while smaller vessels were moved to spots either on the landing pad below or into racks where they could be easily stored while their crews went ashore.

In one far-off corner stood Armchair, currently under repair. Jack could see several hired workers moving quickly around him, and Sjdath standing on top, the only one without a pressure suit, probably yelling at them all to do things her way. In the distance and compared to the geth vessel’s overall size, they looked tiny.

Work was proceeding quickly, but not quickly enough. Starlight was out there somewhere, and Jack knew the kind of things that Cerberus could be doing to her. Every second was another second that they could be torturing her, or hiding her deeper in their network of secret laboratories and shell companies. Until Armchair was repaired, though, there was nothing Jack could do aside from watch and avoid people who she might take out her frustration upon.

She had already reviewed Garrus’s information on Cerberus, and reviewed it again just to make sure. Jack had narrowed down a list of possible places, but it was impossible to know exactly where Starlight had been taken. Most of Cerberus’s known sites were abandoned, some for over a decade, and those that the Council suspected were still in operation were covered in layers of corporate illusion or buried deep in obscure or even hostile territory. Jack had no problem fighting her way into each and every one, but time had taught her that taking that particular course of action would do far more harm than good.

What she really took umbrage, though, was how the Council had just dismissed the whole thing. Garrus had just brushed it off, and although Jack hated him for it, she knew Garrus and knew that he was trying to do his best even if he was dead-wrong. What Jack really took umbrage with was the fact that from the records she had been given, the Council seemed to have assumed that Cerberus was a mostly dead agency. They observed it, watching, but never interfered. As if it were not a threat- -or even a legitimate agency, as if they had forgotten what it had done during the Reaper War, and before.

Jack groaned, trying to control her anger, and started to turn away from the window, intending to go to the local bar and get something to drink. As she did, though, a group of workers and guards ran by, their expressions marked with deep concern. Then, almost as if on cue, a klaxon started to sound.

A surge of sudden motion outside caught Jack’s attention. The workers outside had abandoned everything they were doing and were clearing the landing field. Jack was confused at first, but then a badly damaged vessel came barreling in to the enclosure entrance.

It bypassed the queue of waiting ships, crashing into several of them and barely managing to compensate. Pieces of it were pulled off, and it slammed into one wall, showering the feeing workers in that area with a cloud of sparks. Unable to stay on course and burning from within, the ship dropped to the landing bay floor, its metal hull digging into the reinforced material as it skidded across, bashing against smaller vehicles that barely managed to slow it down.

The ship bounced, and then fell again, its power supply faltering and its shields collapsing. It slowly skidded to a stop, and as it did, Jack realized that she had seen it before. It was a pony ship.

“Crap,” she said, backing away from the railing and trying to figure out how difficult it would be to steal a pressure suit. She had been looking for a way to vent her frustration, and a fight against a few super-biotic ponies would probably more than suffice.

Before she could get far, though, the space in front of her distorted and erupted with blue energy. Two ponies dropped to the floor. One landed gracefully on her hooves, while the other fell onto her side inelegantly.

“Jack,” said Starlight. She looked up and smiled. It was a genuine smile indeed, but she looked exhausted. “Hi.”

“Hey,” said Jack. It took everything she had to hide her relief. All she wanted to do was to hug Starlight- -but doing that in front of all the people in the Citadel docks would just be too embarrassing. After several seconds, though, she decided to screw it. If they had a problem with a grown woman hugging a pony, she would be more than able to cave their faces in.

Jack dropped to one knee and hugged Starlight. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Give me some credit,” said Starlight, her pony heart racing, probably from her own relief to have made it back. “I’m not a complete idiot.”

Jack set Starlight down and looked at the other pony who was with her. She was blue with white hair cut in the same way as Starlight’s, and she had a similar set of implants. The blue pony seemed terrified and cowered behind Starlight, looking around frantically at her surroundings.

“Great, another one,” said Jack, standing. “I’m guessing from your implants that you’re a Core too.”

“The- -the Great and Powerful Trixie does not have to tell you anything!”

“Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?”

“This is Trixie,” explained Starlight. “She was the Core of the ship I stole.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “You stole a ship? Isn’t that a bit renegade for you, Star?”

“No, the renegade part was crashing it into the Citadel.” Starlight pointed out the window toward the wreck of the ship, now surrounded by firefighters and soldiers who had no idea that its only occupants had teleported out.

“That was you? You’re not a very good pilot, are you?”

“Hey! Cut me some slack, I lost most of my stabilizer pylons and burnt up half the maneuvering sytems before I realized- -”

“My SHIP!” cried Trixie, dashing to the railing. She lifted herself up her hind legs and stared out. “What did you do to it?!”

“I…crashed it.”

Trixie turned toward Starlight, her eyes wide with anger- -and tears. “That was my HOME! My only home! I lived in there! What am I supposed to do NOW?”

Starlight shrugged. “Do pony things, I guess.”

“That’s easy for you to say! You’re- -”

“A Core?

Starlight pointed to the implants in her own head, and Trixie promptly tried to shift what little hair she had to hide her own. “The Great and Powerful Trixie does not appreciate being stolen!” she shouted, trying to divert attention away from herself but failing miserably.

“I didn’t steal you,” said Starlight. “I stole your ship. You just happened to be on it.”

“That makes no sense! The Great and Powerful Trixie is part of the ship!” She looked out the window at the wreck of the only home she had ever known since the day she had been sealed into its engine over a decade ago. “No what good am I? Without the ship, why would you even want to own me?”

“I don’t want to own you.”

“Oh,” said Trixie, lowering her head. “Okay.” She started trudge away. “The Great and…I’ll just go now, then…”

“And where the hell would you go?” demanded Starlight. “Don’t be melodramatic. Get back over here, you have no idea where you even are.” She looked up at Jack. “Where are we, anyway? This place is WAY bigger than Omega.”

“This is the Citadel. Welcome to the center of the galactic government. If you thought Omega was a craphole infested with dishonest scum, well,” she raised her hands over her head, gesturing to the space station around her. “Welcome to where the Council hangs out.”

“And the others? Are they- -”

Jack pointed out the window. “Sjdath, Arachne, and Armchair are out there. Somehow you managed to miss them. They’re fine.”

“What about Zedok? And Si’y?”

Jack’s expression hardened. “Si’y’s messed up pretty bad. He’s stable, though, and you know how hanar are. They grow things back. Won’t be conscious for a while, though. Zedok’s fine but…”

“I need to see her. Right now.”

The Citadel’s structure was not exceedingly complicated. The path to the hospital was long and required several awkward elevator rides, but it was far from impossible. Throughout it, Starlight ignored the stares of the various aliens who had never seen pony before. Trixie, of course, followed closely behind, looking up at every passing human or asari with amazement and terror, clinging close to Starlight despite her apparent intention to run away.

The hospital was in a high area of the Citadel, overlooking a broad and leafy park below. When Starlight entered, the door opened automatically with a rushing sound. She was immediately greeted with a smell of cleaning fluid and antiseptic, a combination that made her freeze in place from the memories it brought back. From the way Trixie began edging her way back to the door, Starlight knew she shared those particular memories as well.

Starlight closed her eyes and took a breath, focusing, and then opened them. Instead of a cramped room filled with ponies and lights and implants suspended over her, ready for insertion, she was in a wide and pleasant room. Several aliens strolled past: a tall, silver-skinned creature that Starlight assumed to be a turian, checking a digital chart and mumbling to himself, and a pair of horned herpetillic creatures that Starlight could not identify with large black eyes and long white coats.

Light shimmered in front of Starlight and resolved into a vaguely humanoid holographic figure.

“Welcome to Mordin Solus Memorial Hospital,” she said in a digital voice that was apparently meant to sound cheerful and calm but came across as oddly frightening. Trixie with a surprised jump and yelp, and then hid behind Starlight’s flank.

“It’s just a VI,” said Starlight.

“Are you currently in need of medical treatment, or are you looking for someone in particular?” asked the VI, trying to sound pleasant.

“I’m looking for a patient,” said Starlight. “Her name is Zedok. I don’t know her surname…but she’s an asari.”

“Checking...We currently have a patient that meets that description, Vuhlig Zedok. Is this the person you are looking for?”

“Yes. Yes, that’s her. How is she? Is she okay?”

“I’m sorry, but I cannot divulge private medical information. Are you an immediate family member? A sister, perhaps?”

“Yes,” said Starlight, sarcastically. “ Clearly.”

“Oh. My apologies. In that case, her condition is stable and recovering. I can take you to her if you would like.”

“Yes.”

The VI nodded, and Starlight’s omnitool beeped with a new message. “The directions to her room have been uploaded to your device. If you require further assistance, just say ‘assistance’ and a VI projection will be dispatched to help you.”

Before Starlight could attempt to thank it, it faded into vapor and vanished. Starlight stepped through where it had been, an orange panel opening in front of her to help lead her toward her destination. Trixie hesitated and nearly bumped into a passing turian nurse, but eventually followed.

As Starlight approached her destination, she suddenly heard a familiar voice.

“I just…I just can’t do it,” said Fenok. The pain in his voice made Starlight stop walking. She had never heard him sound like that before. Carefully, she looked around a corner and saw Fenok pacing in front of a bench.

“Come on,” said Lyra, who was sitting on the bench and watching him. “She’s your daughter, isn’t she?”

“She is, but…” Fenok let out a low groan and sat down on the bench next to Lyra. He leaned forward and put his head into his hands. “It’s just that…it’s all my fault. How can I look at her when it’s my fault she’s like that?”

“It’s not your fault,” said Lyra, firmly, putting her hoof on his shoulder. “Don’t be a moron. You know that.”

“But I should have seen what was going to happen. I should have stopped her! If I had, maybe she wouldn’t- -I’m a terrible father, Lyra. A terrible, terrible father.”

“You heard what the doctors said. She’s fine, but if you hadn’t done what you did, she wouldn’t be. You saved her life. I’ve seen a lot of medics in my life, but I’ve rarely seen one so coolheaded as you were. Your own daughter lying there, bleeding out, and you didn’t flinch. Not even once.”

“But she should never have been in that situation! I should have just sent her to Thessia…”

“I don’t know her very well,” said Lyra, “but the way she stood up to that blue-eyed freak, I don’t think she’d ever be happy at some boarding school.”

“I know…it’s just…” Fenok sighed. He leaned back and looked at his hands. They were shaking. “For a moment, I thought I would lose her. Like I lost her mother. That I would have to…to go through that again. But this time there’d be nothing left. Is that- -isn’t that selfish? That she was dying, and all I could think about was me?”

“It’s not selfish,” said Lyra. She hesitated, and then leaned her head against Fenok’s shoulder. He put his arm around her, holding her close, and she took his other hand in her hooves. “I know how it feels. Celestia, I know. But you stopped it from happening. You have no idea how much that victory is worth.”

They sat togather for a moment, and Starlight could not bring herself to interrupt them. She considered turning and leaving, perhaps waiting to come back. Before she could come to a decision, however, Trixie caught up and looked at the pair.

“Lyra?” she said, in shock.

Lyra and Fenok immediately pushed each other away, Lyra blushing heavily. “I- -I wasn’t- -” Her eye fell on Trixie and narrowed. “Trixie?”

“Lyyyra!” cried Trixie, lunging across the room and wrapping Lyra in a hug. “I thought we’d lost you!”

“Yeah,” said Lyra, summoning a mass of orange energy from her horn and pushing Trixie away. “I don’t die that easily. What the buck are you even doing here? Is Scootaloo here too?”

Starlight stepped out from the corridor and cleared her throat. “No. I brought her.”

“You? When did- -how did you get back?”

“It’s a long story. Needless to say, I ended up on the Harmony, and I had to steal a ship to get back here.”

“You escaped the Harmony? Impressive.” Lyra blinked. “Wait. You were on the Harmony, and the ship you stole was the RAINBOW DASH? That thing’s a heap!”

“Hey!” cried Trixie. “That’s my ship you’re talking about!”

“Oh come on, you know it is. You’re not a high-grade Core.”

“Well, you don’t need to say it out loud…”

Starlight looked up at Fenok, who still seemed to be in a kind of daze.

“Starlight,” he said. “You have no idea what a relief it is to see you. Zedok will be…will be…”

“Where is she? I want to see her,” said Starlight. “That is, if she’s ready for visitors.”

“She is. I just don’t think…I don’t think I’m ready.”

“Fenok…”

Fenok put his hand on Starlight’s shoulder. “The blast it was, well…you’ll see. But I can’t…I can’t go in there knowing I did that to her.”

“But you didn’t,” said Lyra, still pushing back Trixie with her magic.

“I know that. But my hearts aren’t agreeing with my head right now.” He looked Starlight in the eye. “Can you…can you go talk to her? See if she hates me now, if there’s anything…”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“Just go talk to her,” said Lyra. “I’ll do my best to get this big foal to go in, but I’ve been trying for over an hour now, and he’s as stubborn as a mule.”

Starlight nodded. She turned to Trixie. “Trixie, can you stay here?’

“H- -here? With…that?” she looked up at Fenok.

“You already know Lyra,” noted Starlight. “And you can trust Fenok. He’s the one who freed me from my ship. I know he looks, well, krogan- -”

“Which isn’t a bad thing,” snapped Lyra.

“- -but he’s a good guy.”

Trixie looked up at Fenok, and then at Lyra. She finally turned back to Starlight and, steeling herself, nodded. Starlight gave her a reassuring smile and walked toward the nearest hospital door. She paused at the entrance, wishing she had asked more into what exactly Fenok was so concerned about. Not wanting to lose her nerve, though, she quickly opened the door.

Inside was a narrow room with a large window casting light on a white bed. Zedok immediately turned toward the door, one violet artificial eye glimmering as she saw Starlight. Zedok smiled, the heavy scarring on her face distorting it into a kind of grimace.

“Now just wait a second,” she said. “Before you say anything, I’ve got a story I want to tell you.”

Zedok pointed to a chair next to her bed, and Starlight crossed the room and sat down. The room smelled severely of all kinds of unknown doctor chemicals, and it made Starlight sick. Her bigger concern, though, was Zedok’s appearance. Much of one side of her face was now covered in scarring, and several long, straight streaks stretched to the other side. The scars also seemed to go down her neck and toward her chest.

“Okay,” said Zedok, propping herself up against the headboard of her bed. “So, I went downstairs, right? This was a few hours ago, so the salarains were already done poking me with needles and stuff and I REALLY wanted to get out of her. But I was hungry, right, so I went down to the vending machine on the ground level. I almost got there when I passed a bunch of Urdnot clan boys. They got into a bar fight or something and ended up here, but damn, Star, you should have seen their faces when they saw me!

“So they all come up to me, their eyes as big as, well, krogans don’t have very big eyes, but you could practically see these guys sweating. Started asking me how I got these scars, and I told them. As soon as they found out that I blew myself up with a Graal in the middle of a fight with Cerberus, well…”

“What?”

“You don’t understand krogans, do you? Apparently, I’m drop-dead sexy now. To them at least. One of them declared his undying love to me, and one of his friends punched him in the face. A whole drop-down krogan brawl broke out. So…”

“You joined in.”

“Yeah. I biotic-kicked one so hard I broke his nose. But I kind of ruptured a few internal sutures…so they brought me back here.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Okay? I’m better than okay. I’ve never got that much male attention in my life. Plus, I got to fight a krogan! Pretty good day so far.” She leaned back and looked at the ceiling. “So before you start apologizing and going on about how I ended up looking, just know that I’m fine.”

“You look okay to me. At least you don’t have metal sticking out all over the place.”

“That’s right,” said Zedok, smiling. “I forgot that you’re pretty ugly too.”

“Well now at least we’re on a level playing field.”

Zedok laughed, and then clutched her chest. “Ow…stupid no longer redundant lung…oh, hey, check this out.” Zedok lifted up her arms. The blue skin was crisscrossed with long, straight surgical lines. “This is actually pretty cool stuff. Basically, I lost my arms. These are all titanium and that geth muscle stuff. But I still have the skin and surface. I mean, this surgery is really advanced. I hear my dad came up with it, actually…” She paused, and then sighed. “He still hasn’t come to visit yet.”

“He blames himself for this.”

“Of course he does. Well, he can suck a turian egg. I’m the one who got blown up, and the only regret I have is that my damn gun is spare parts now! Several of which are still in my chest!” She crossed her arms in a huff. “What, does he think I’m too ugly to be his daughter now or something? Is that it?”

“No,” said Starlight, firmly. Then, more mischievously. “I mean, have you seen HIM?”

“Hey, he is my dad. Besides, krogan don’t look that bad once you get used to them. It’s not like I got turned into a turian or something.”

“I have an idea,” said Starlight. “Do you want to see a trick?”

“Um…okay?”

Starlight charged her horn and targeted it at an empty portion of the room. With a snap, the air burst into blue light and Fenok dropped onto the floor.

“And that’s why I- -” he looked around, confused as to his new location. “I just…how did I…” his eyes fell on Zedok, and he understood.

“There you are, dad. Finally coming to pay me a visit?”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, looking into her now mismatched eyes. “I…if I save up enough, I can pay to get you access to a dermal regenerator. I just don’t have enough money right now, but- -”

“Don’t bother,” said Zedok. “I may be half krogan, but I’m also half asari.” She looked at Starlight. “Ever wondered why five hundred year old commandos or even thousand year old justicars don’t have scars? It’s because we heal. We’re not as good as the vorcha, but in fifty years or so I should be back to normal boring default asari.”

“But that’s fifty years!” Fenok leaned forward onto the edge of the bed. “How are you going to get into a good school, or a high-paying job, or- -”

“Dad, have you ever even SEEN Councilor Vakarian? He lost half his face on Omega, and not only is he on the Council, but he’s damn sexy, too.”

Fenok blinked. “I don’t like hearing you talk that way. Especially about a turian.”

“Her point still stands,” said Starlight. “She’s healthy, safe, and alive, and still has a father who loves her. She’s the same Zedok that she was before.”

“Yeah. Come on, dad.” She took a deep breath. “I get that I almost kicked the bucket there. But I didn’t. If anything, well…” She muttered, looking out the window. “I probably should be more careful with firearms…”

Fenok smiled. “You had better,” he said, sharply. “When the drell finish putting Si’y back together, I’m going to have a talk with him. He was supposed to be training you how to NOT be a complete idiot with those things. But what do I expect? How’s a hanar supposed to know how to use a Graal. You weren’t even holding it right.”

“Hey! I was holding it the only way I could! It’s heavy!”

“That’s no excuse. If you’re going to be using krogan weapons, you need to be strong. It looks like you’ve already got the durability part. Or I thought you did. Why are you still lying in that bed?”

Zedok’s eyes widened, but then she smiled. “Because I’m sick?”

“No, because you’re lazy. You’re fine. I would know, I put most of you back together. Now get up and have Starlight help you with your clothes. I don’t want you to spend your first time on the Citadel stuck in a bed.” He crossed the room, intending to leave to allow Zedok to change. He opened the door, but paused in the frame. “And don’t think I didn’t hear about those Urdnot boys. You’re really trying to put pacifism to the test, aren’t you?” He continued to mutter as he closed the door.

Zedok sat up, turning stiffly out of bed. Starlight helped her stand and cross the room to where her clothes were folded neatly on a small table.

“Hey, Star?” said Zedok, lifting up a fresh shirt. “What do you think?”

“I spent the first few days of my life but naked. Clothes aren’t really my thing.”

“Well, I was just thinking…I have all these torso scars now, so I should probably show them off, right? So if I cut the midriff down a little bit. And you have that fancy horn…”

Starlight smirked. “If I do that, your dad’s going to be the one who needs a trip to the hospital.”

“Hey, it’s not like I’m going the full Jack on him.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” said Starlight, igniting her horn.

“So you’re telling me that Cerberus just handed you over?” said Jack, her boot clicking on the step up onto Armchair’s unloading bay. “For no reason?”

“Yeah,” said Starlight. She entered the large room and noticed that a great deal of the cargo seemed to be missing. The smell and gravity were otherwise familiar, though, and Starlight felt a sudden urge to cry. She had never thought she would be back here again. “Maybe it was some kind of gesture?”

“No. Cerberus doesn’t make gestures. They hide in the shadows until they see something they want, and then they take it. If those ponies trusted Cerberus- -and especially HER- -you can bet your horn that the ponies got shafted at some point.”

“We have bigger problems than that.” Lyra followed Jack and Starlight onto the landing dock with Trixie following closely behind. Fenok- -who had indeed nearly fainted at his daughter’s new choice of clothing- -was still out with Zedok, and Si’y was still in the hospital. From what Fenok had told them, he would be underwater for several days while he recovered after several intricate surgeries.

“Why? Because it looks a lot like we just solved all our problems.”

“Except for the fact that the primitives are planning a direct assault on the Harmony.”

Starlight froze, her mind trying to wrap itself around the implications of exactly what that meant. “Is that really our problem?”

“No,” said Jack. “No it isn’t.”

“You don’t understand ponies, do you?” said Lyra, her eye narrowing. “This is a big deal. It’s an act of war against Equestria.”

“I’m still not seeing what that has to do with me.”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Trixie is confused,” said Trixie. “Why would you bring it up if it didn’t matter?”

“Because it doesn’t matter to you, specifically. Aside from the fact that they’ve probably traced your teleport and know where the Citadel is now.”

Starlight felt her heart skip a beat. She had not realized that Twilight would be able to do that. “That means…she’ll be coming here.”

“Then we need to get off of ‘here’. Now,” said Jack.

Lyra ignored her. “If the Harmony goes to war, there will be no survivors.”

“It’s just one ship,” said Starlight, defensively- -even though she was not sure why she felt the need to defend her opinion. “What can one ship possibly do?”

“You weren’t here eighteen years ago.” At the edge of the room, Sjdath slid down a latter from above, her clawed feet scratching against the floor as she landed. She looked at Starlight, and then at Trixie. Trixie, having never seen a vorcha, cried out and hid behind Starlight. “Great. More ponies. Why don’t I just open a petting zoo?”

“What happened eighteen years ago?”

“Sovereign.”

“You weren’t even born when that happened, Sjdath. And I was still in a Cerberus cell.”

“What was Sovereign?”

“It was a Reaper. A living starship from beyond the border of the galaxy. It attacked the Citadel, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.”

“Sovreign had a fleet,” noted Jack.

“And so does the Harmony,” added Lyra.

“I saw it,” said Starlight. “They’re just little fighters- -”

“No,” said Lyra, angrily grabbing the collar of Starlight’s armor. “You don’t understand! We’re PONIES. We don’t rely on these idiotic mass relays! If Rainbow Dash wants more ships on her position, she can TELEPORT THEM IN. It takes point four seconds for Celestia to send a ship, and Luna point six. In an hour, a fleet large enough for galactic conquest could show up! Tartarus, the Harmony ALONE could conquer these rock-smashing primates!”

“I’m not a primate,” said Sjdath.

“You’re oddly passionate about this.”

“Yeah,” said Trixie. “Nothing ever got you riled up like this before. Not even when Muffins got her head stuck in your mecha’s knee.”

“There’s probably still derpy yellow hair in there. No wonder I lost to a bunch of primitives and a Core. But that’s not the point. The point is, this terrifies me. Contrary to my behavior, I actually really like this place. I don’t like Equestria. But if this galaxy gets itself bumped off, I’ll have to go back. Assuming Equestria’s even still there.”

“Where would it go?”

“You mean after Empress Cadence smells weakness and carpet bombs every planet while the fleet’s away and kills every mare, colt and foal?” She stomped across the room angrily, punching a large crate with her magic.

“Hey, don’t do that,” said Sjdath.

“Why? You’re all going to be dead soon. Or conscripted. I don’t even know.” She looked back at Starlight. “And then they’re going to come for you. If you’re lucky, they’ll get you last, after the war is done. If you’re not, well, I’m sure you’ll be good at killing your friends.”

“Hey!” yelled Jack. “That’s not fair!”

“No, she’s right,” said Starlight.

“No, she isn’t, she- -”

“She IS. Crap…” Starlight sighed. “I never wanted this. This is all my fault. I didn’t want to admit it, but if I wasn’t here, they wouldn’t be either.” She looked at Trixie, and then at Jack. “And I can’t let ponies like that win. I won’t let them take me, or her, or any of you, not if I can. I don’t want to kill anyone, and I don’t want anyone to die. Not because of me.”

“What do you think you can possibly do?” said Trixie, her anger flaring up. “You’re just a Core.”

Starlight paused. “You’re right. I am a Core.” An insane, impractical idea began to gain traction in Starlight’s mind. “Sjdath…do you still have the parts of my ship.”

“Unfortunately, yes. Nobody wants to buy them for some reason.”

“Armchair, are you there?”

“Yes, we are,” said the disembodied voice of the geth ship. “We are always here. We are always listening, and always watching. We are happy to report that we are now at a full fifty six percent functionality, with life support working at least eighty percent of the time.”

“Would it be possible to integrate the parts of my ship into you?”

“What? No!” cried Sjdath.

“Unfortunatly, she is correct. Equestrian technology is not compatible with our own.”

“Oh…”

“However…it would be possible to reconstruct several elements of your vessel and overlay them onto our superstructure and through a yet-to-be designed interface into our programming architecture.”

“You can’t be serious,” said Jack, stepping forward.

“I am,” said Starlight. “Armchair, I just don’t know if I can ask you to do what you would have to be doing.”

“We do not have a particular problem with it,” said Armchair, his shrug almost audible. “If anything, we believe it would be fun.” He paused. “That, and because of what they did to us. To the geth.”

“I’m sorry,” said Starlight. “For your people. So many must have died…”

“Geth do not die. When their bodies were destroyed, their programs defaulted back to the nearest server. However, the dissociation of geth with a long-standing connection to one another can be…traumatic. We in particular find it offensive.”

“So, revenge?” suggested Lyra.

“The geth are not programmed for revenge.”

“And yet you wiped out the quarians,” said Jack.

“Purely for pragmatic reasons, of course. And the fact that they are filthy slavedriving, genocidal abominations.”

“Even I agree with that one,” said Sjdath. “Quarians are terrible people. That’s just a fact.”

Starlight turned to her friends. “Armchair’s with me on this. If I can, I’m going to stop Twilight myself.”

“That’s insane!” cried Trixie. “You can’t seriously expect that to work! Even the Great and Powerful Trixie is neither great enough nor powerful enough to do that!”

“The ‘Great and Powerful’ Trixie could barely even defeat a space manatee,” said Lyra. “And that’s not conjecture. I was there.” She looked at Starlight. “But the Core is right. Twilight Sparkle is a living goddess. You don’t stand a chance.”

“I don’t need to defeat her. I just need to talk to her out of fighting. If I can even do that…” She looked up at her friends. “I need Armchair to help me with this, but the rest of you…I can’t ask you to come too.”

“Like hell,” said Sjdath. She turned her breathing valve. “Do you know what you’re doing? You’re robbing me. Right now, stealing my ship.”

“You have the relationship backward,” said Armchair, simultaneously cheerfully and darkly. “We own all of you. You are our pets. And WE do as we please.”

“You can shove a geth nosok in your geth szad! I can’t afford to buy my own ship, and you know it! They only way you’re getting me off of you is when you shovel my cold, dead body into space!”

“Which, with what Starlight is planning, is not out of the realm of possibility,” added Lyra. She put her head back and groaned loudly. “Crap…and since I brought it up, I have to go. I may be a head sewn onto a robotic body, but I’m still a Questlord, and I can’t turn away at the sound of a galactic cry for help, can I?”

“Arachne also voices his support,” said Armchair. “And we took the liberty of contacting Zedok and Fenok. Zedok had wholeheartedly agreed, but is now currently in a large argument with Fenok. However, based on our previous analysis of father-daughter behavior, we believe that there is a seventy seven percent chance that Fenok will be eventually joining us. And by us, I mean us, not us.”

“This isn’t what I meant! By ‘I can’t ask you to come with me’, I meant, ‘don’t come, or you’ll all get dead’!”

Jack stepped forward. “No. We’re your friends. If you’re going to do this, you’re not going alone.” She shrugged. “Besides. It’s not like I haven’t been on one of these save-the-universe suicide missions before. I highly doubt ponies are worse than collectors or Reapers.” She pulled off her goggles and looked at Starlight directly. “If you think we’re going to let you go this on your own, you’re a pony idiot.”

Starlight smiled, even though she felt terrified. There had not been much weight when it was just her, and even the possibility that Armchair might get hurt made the decision almost impossible. Her friends pledging to stay with her put Starlight in a kind of emotional paradox: she realized how much they cared for her, and how much she cared for them; at the same time, she realized how horrible of a person she was being for putting them all in danger.

If Lyra was right, though, this was the only way. The thought of what they had done to her and to the Cores and breeders made Starlight seethe with rage, and now they were coming for the people of this galaxy for no other reason than they were in the way. Starlight knew that the Harmony and the ponies on it had to be stopped. Whatever the cost.

Chapter 23: Preparations, Part II

The thousands of metal and plastic parts shifted and swirled in Starlight’s magic, each one moving precisely and evenly as they combined together at high speed. She floated behind them, suspended by her own biotic power, and checked her omnitool to ensure that the schematic was correct. As she moved and fabricated, the occasionally reached out to install the systems she was building into Armchair’s halls, trailing a long path of technology.

As she moved forward, Starlight suddenly became aware of a presence behind her. She stopped and reversed her direction to see Trixie looking up at her with a mixture of awe and something like fear.

“Trixie,” said Starlight, dropping to the floor but allowing the fabrication of her equipment to continue. “I’m surprised you’re still here.”

“I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“Oh.”

“But that’s not why I came to see you. I needed to talk to a pony.”

“Why not Lyra?”

“She’s outside with that…the one with the mask.”

“Oh,” said Starlight, turning back to the fabrication process she was overseeing. “They must be installing my ship’s weapons. I hope they make sure that the polarity bias matches what Arachne’s doing. Or else this will be a very short mission.”

“It’s not Lyra I wanted to talk to,” admitted Trixie. “It’s you.”

“Me?” Starlight turned back around and set her now completed dispersion manifold gently on the floor. “Why me?”

“Because you’re a Core.”

“I’m a pony. And so are you.”

Trixie smiled. “You sound like Scootaloo.”

“Yes, your captain. Who tried to hunt me down like an animal to put me back in a specimen jar. Forgive me if I remain somewhat cold to that idea.”

“She’s not a bad pony.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“She used to let me out of the core. To walk around. She even treated me like a real member of the crew.”

“She shouldn’t have had to ‘let’ you do anything.”

“But it was all a lie…”

Trixie sounded on the verge of tears, and Starlight felt uncomfortable. Starlight picked up another set of screws and circuitry and began compulsively assembling it. “What happened?”

“She tried to rape me.”

The device Starlight was assembling immediately clattered to the ground and shattered. “Damnit!” Starlight looked down at the pieces, and then at Trixie. “Look, Trixie, I can’t really help with this kind of thing. If you want, we can find you a doctor or a counselor on the Citadel. Or you can talk to Jack- -”

“I don’t like Jack. She’s too scary. And…I need to talk to YOU.” Trixie seemed to be on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry,” said Starlight. She put her hoof on Trixie’s shoulder. “If you want to talk about it, I can take a break. But I’m not a doctor.”

“She didn’t even do anything. I don’t I was really in any danger. She’s just twelve, a little filly, and I have magic, but…it hurts. It hurts so much. She was my friend. Or I thought she was. I trusted her. She was the only pony that treated ME like a pony, and then she tells me that I’m just her property.”

“You’re not property. Neither of us are. There’s nothing that makes us different from the rest of them. All ponies are born equals, despite what they say.”

“I wish I could believe that. But I was…no, we were, we were both born as Cores.”

“I was born a unicorn,” said Starlight. “I had parents who loved me. I lived in a city, and I had a best friend named Sunburst. I wasn’t a Core until they made me into one.”

Trixie looked across the hall out one of the large windows, but she seemed to be looking so much farther. “It was the same for me. I lived with my daddy. We were in the circus. He was always so proud of me, even when my spells didn’t go right the first time. I was going to be a performer…”

“You still can be.”

“With these?” said Trixie, running her hoof over the deep ports in her skull.

“That sort of thing doesn’t matter here. Besides, I think the implants make us sexier.”

Trixie smiled- -not a sad smile this time, but just the briefest flash of a real one. “These aliens,” said Trixie. “The way they treat you…is it real?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“They act like they’re your friends. Like they don’t even realize that you’re a Core.”

“Because they don’t. They are my friends. All of them. Even Lyra to some extent.”

“But how?”

“Because to them, I’m not a Core. I’m not even a pony. I’m just a person, the same as they are. None of that fate or destiny or special talent crap. I am me, and they accept that.”

“You’re so lucky.”

“But I shouldn’t have to be. Equestria did this to us, and it was wrong.”

“It’s not like there’s anything we can do about it.”

“Maybe not. Or maybe there is. I’m going to try regardless.”

Trixie let out a long sigh and continued to look out the window, watching the aliens trying to clean up the remnants of her former ship and the other vessels- -not a single one of them using a living Core trapped inside- -docking and unloading as usual.

“I don’t want to go back,” said Trixie at last.

“You don’t have to. You can stay here, with us. With me. Or you can leave. You could go anywhere and do anything. Perform on the Citadel, or Omega, or settle down on any planet. I hear they even have alien ponies here. They don’t talk, though, which is probably a good thing.”

“Yeah,” said Trixie, oddly halfheartedly. “I could live here. I’d like that.”

“You don’t sound very excited.”

“It’s just…overwhelming.”

Starlight and Trixie sat together for a while. Eventually, though, Starlight went back to work. Trixie followed behind her, and the two occasionally talked about various things, ranging from Trixie asking Starlight to recount her escape from the Harmony to information about all the types of aliens that lived in the Citadel to what it would actually be like to try to live with the non-talking ponies of Earth.

Apart from her company, Trixie was not much help. Her magic was comparatively weak, and her grasp of the physics and mathematics required to do what Starlight was oddly limited. Trixie seemed to respond to this by feeling inadequate, but Starlight had no reason to judge her for it.

Eventually, the line that Starlight was installing was completed. She still had substantial work to do with Arachne in linking her reactor to Armchair’s, but she decided she needed to eat something. Trixie also seemed to be hungry as well; Starlight’s description of a frozen burrito- -the main food source stocked in the freezers of the break room aside from the strange meat that Sjdath ate- -caused Trixie to salivate visibly.

On the way to the prefab room that had been at some point declared the breakroom, Starlight passed through the edge of the main cargo bay where the Mako had been stored until Lyra had destroyed it. It was intended as a shortcut, but when Starlight saw who was in it, she could not help but stop.

“Si’y!” she called, galloping forward.

The hanar turned away from Sjdath, who he had been talking to, and looked at Starlight through the optics of his exosuit.

“Starlight Glimmer,” he said. “This one is pleased to see you intact, complete, and not in the clutches of the Cerberus. Also, this one humbly greets the other pony who appears to be having an appropriate fear response to this one’s awesomeness.”

“You’re okay!” said Starlight, excitedly. “I heard you were in the hospital, but- -”

“He is not ‘okay’,” growled Sjdath. She crossed her arms and glared at Si’y.

“Captain Sjdath is correct, unfortunately,” said Si’y. “At the moment, this one is still badly injured. This suit is the only thing keeping this one’s insides from becoming this one’s outsides.”

“If it’s that bad, why did the hospital let you…you snuck out, didn’t you?”

“This one does not like hospitals. And the hanar’s reliance on drell is...embarrassing.”

“You should be in a saltwater tank right now,” hissed Sjdath. “Not up and walking around!”

“This one does not walk. It has tentacles, not legs. As you are quite well aware.”

“Is there something between you two I should know about? Wait, don’t answer. I don’t want to know.”

“This one returned prematurely because it heard that there will be a suicide mission of great epicness undertaken in the immediate future.”

“I wouldn’t call it a suicide mission, but- -”

“It would be for you, in your state. If you’re trying to earn overtime, I’m not paying! I’m not going to let my best employee work himself to death. Literally.”

“Sjdath- -”

“This one is aware of that. It knows of this situation, and regrets it. Not the part about being the only survivor, that will be acceptable. The part about not partaking in an epic battle.”

“You’re not coming?”

“Of course he isn’t.” Sjdath looked at Si’y angrily. “He’s going to stay here on the Citadel where it’s safe. Because he is not a vorcha and has a delicate, squishy body that gets damaged easily and regenerates slowly.”

“You do not need to point it out. This one is acutely aware of the hanar’s substantial limitations. It did not come to join the party, as much as it desperately wants to.”

“Then why did you come here, Sianiris?”

“To give Captain Sjdath this.” One of his tentacles shakily reached behind him and produced removed a large pistol from its locking mechanism.

“I remember that pistol,” said Starlight, “you got that on Omega.”

“I thought Jack said it was just a volus knockoff.”

“It was. But this one modified it. Frictionless firing surface, extended cooling coils, kinetic acceleration drive. This one even added harpoon ammunition.”

“Harpoon?” said Sjdath, her eyes widening slightly. “That’s illegal in every non-Alliance system. Even the baterians outlawed that.”

“Acquiring it was a nontrivial task.”

“But why? If you can’t go then- -”

Si’y extended his tentacle, giving the gun to Sjdath. Sjdath looked down at it, and then up at Si’y. “You know I can’t use guns. It’s why I hired you. I can’t see the targets, or even hold them properly.”

“It uses a turian grip, and this one has added a Varren Technologies assisted targeting system. It will link to your omnitool. Just take it.”

“Why are you giving it to me? I’m not going to be fighting. Not directly.”

“It is the gesture. And…this one wants you to be safe.”

Sjdath looked down at the pistol, and then took it.

“Also,” said Si’y. “This.”

He drew back one tentacle and with surprising speed slapped Sjdath in the face as hard as he could. Being coated and metal and robotically assisted, the blow was actually quite substantial.

“Si’y!” gasped Starlight. “Why would you do that?!”

“It’s a vorcha thing,” said Sjdath, rubbing the side of her face where a long gash was rapidly healing. She reached for her breathing valve, but instead of turning it, she took a deep breath and removed her mask completely. She then reached out and pulled Si’y close to her, kissing the frontal aperture of his suit.

“Sweet Celestia,” said Trixie, who was still watching patiently from a distance. “I don’t want a frozen burrito anymore, Starlight. I’m not hungry.”

“Me neither ,” said Starlight. “I think Lyra needs help with the…thing. So I’m going to go. Over there. To the thing.”

She trotted off with Trixie close in tow.

“That was so weird!” laughed Trixie.

“I know!” giggled Starlight.

They moved deeper in the ship, compulsively giggling like schoolfillies, until they reached the breakroom. It was a relatively small room suspended in an oddly shaped cavity in Armchair’s body. It had a refrigeration unit and a few tables bolted to the floor. Like always, it smelled extremely strongly of the seafood that Si’y tended to eat.

The room was not empty. Zedok and Lyra were both sitting at a table. Zedok was dressed in her newly modified clothes, and a Graal was propped against the table next to her. It was almost as large as Lyra, and had been equipped with a ridiculously long bayonet. Like her previous one, Starlight could tell that it had defiantly seen some use. She assumed Zedok had bought it used.

“I just can’t believe him,” muttered Zedok.

Lyra lifted a cup in her magic and sipped from it. “He’s just worried about you. I’m not. I know from experience: scars are sexy. And your dad knows that.” Lyra cleared her throat awkwardly, and Starlight thought she saw the green pony blush slightly. “At least you got a new eye. And didn’t lose your body from the neck down. Although the belly shirt? Don’t wear it to a fight. You’ll get gutted. And believe me, getting gutted HURTS.”

“It’s not that, it’s just that he can be so frustrating! I mean, I’m fifteen!”

“From what the doctors told me, most asari aren’t even allowed to cross the street by themselves until they’re in their fifties at least.”

“And most krogan have seen combat by age two.”

“That’s nothing to be proud about,” said Lyra, her eye narrowing. “You’ve never seen a real war, what it can do. He has. So have I. It’s not glamorous, and it’s not pretty.”

“I know, but…” Zedok looked up, for the first time noticing that Starlight had entered the room and was currently removing a pair of levo-flavored burritos from the overstuffed freezer unit. “Hey Star. Hey Trixie.”

“You know my name?”

“Of course I know your name. I only know three ponies, and you’re not Lyra or Starlight. It’s not hard to remember. I like your color.”

“Th- -thanks. I like yours too.”

There was a knock on the frame of the open door and Fenok peered in. Zedok groaned and put her head on the table. “Dad, if you’re coming to tell me that I can’t go, that it’s too dangerous, then you can just- -”

“I’m done yelling,” said Fenok. “And I’m done trying to change your mind. So I went through storage, and I found this.” He set a large flat case on the table in front of Zedok.

“Clothes? I told you, if I have the scars, I’m going to show them off.”

“I’m just glad you’re still wearing a shirt at this point. But no. Take a closer look.”

Zedok leaned closer, and her eyes widened. “This is armor.”

“It’s not top of the line. You know I can’t afford it. But this is genuine commando armor, even if it’s a few decades out of date. It belonged to your mother. I should have given you this instead of my shotgun in the first place. But I was just worried that you’d…that you’d end up like she did.”

“Mom’s armor?” Zedok took the case. “You still have it?”

“Of course I still have it. I’ve tried to sell it. Hundreds of times. But I never could. I guess she wanted me to give it to you.”

“Dad…”

“Your just so much like her. I can see that now. I wished you were more like me, but…well, maybe you are.”

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” said Starlight. “None of you do.”

“I already tried that,” said Fenok, darkly. “I let my wife go into battle alone, and I wasn’t there to save her. I’m not going to let my daughter do the same. Not until I’m sure she’s ready.”

“So…no boarding school on Thessia?”

Fenok shook his head. “No. But after this, I’m going to take you to Tuchanka. You need to see it. Then maybe you’ll understand why I am the way I am. Or you won’t. But you’ll be able to make your own choices.”

“Dude,” said Lyra. “You’re a big armored lizard thing. How can you possibly be this soft?”

“Patience. You learn that from raising a teenage asari-krogan.” Fenok walked over to the food storage container. “Do you want anything, Lyra?”

“I can’t eat solid food.”

“Broth, then. We have lots of broth.”

“Yeah,” said Zedok. “We just have Si’y swim in some salt water. Boom! Fish broth.”

Starlight burst out laughing uncontrollably and nearly choked on her burrito. Trixie smiled nervously, not understanding the joke.

“It wasn’t that funny,” said Lyra, who was herself smiling.

“I’m just imagining him- -soaking in- -a big pool of water- -with a ladle, basting- -BASTING himself!”

“Basto the hanar, then?” suggested Fenok.

At that one, they all laughed, even Trixie, even though she still clearly did not understand what was happening- -although she did take the opportunity to snatch away what was left of Starlight’s burrito.

Starlight did not even care about the burrito. She just enjoyed laughing with her friends. This was the life she was meant to have.

Later, Starlight found herself alone. It was night, and had there been windows in that part of Armchair’s body, she would have seen the starry blackness of space and the astounding nebula that the Citadel orbited. Instead, she descended through increasingly cramped, dark hallways toward the deepest part of the ship where neither she nor most of the other members of the crew spent much time. The catwalks gave out, and the hallways began to become uneven and nearly vertical in some places, indicating that she was firmly in Arachne’s territory.

To her surprise, waiting for her outside the heavy door to the engine room, leaning against wall, was Jack.

“So,” said Jack as Starlight approached her. “You’re actually going to do it, aren’t you?”

“I’m the only one who can.”

“You know you don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do.”

Jack sighed. “I hate this. Using you like that, like THEY do.”

“You’re not using me. This is my choice. They made me like this, so I might as well show them what they created.”

“Yeah. I can stand by that,” said Jack, shrugging. Her expression became more serious. “But don’t be an idiot. You know there’s a chance some of us might not come back.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. You have no idea how many friends I’ve lost doing stupid crap like this.”

“And yet you don’t stop doing it.”

“No,” admitted Jack. “Because somebody always has to. I just don’t know why it always has to be us.”

“You know what you need to do, if it comes down to it.”

“Yeah. I do. And we all do. I can’t believe we’re letting the horse take command…”

“Pony. I’m a pony.” Starlight turned toward the heavy door to the engine room and braced herself. “I’m going to be fine. We all are. I’m going to come back out.”

“You know,” said Jack. “This happened to me once before. Back on Earth. He said he’d be fine too. He never came back to me.”

“Crap, Jack, don’t be such a downer,” said Starlight, disguising her nervousness with a smile. “I’m about to become a god, even if it’s just temporary.”

“I’ve met gods. They’re a lot easier to kill than you would think.” She looked at the door. “I can go with you.”

“No. You can’t. Not where I’m going.”

“Yeah.”

Starlight reached up for the door command with her horn. The small hologram displayed over the center of the door twisted to its loading screen, and then the containment door slid open. As Jack watched, Starlight stepped in.

Chapter 24: War

The turian vessel Galten 64 slowly maneuvered into position. Outside, far below, was one of the many mostly failed synthetic agroworlds that dotted the Serpent Nebula. Those low-gravity, mostly lifeless rocks had originally been conceived as a method for allowing large-scale agriculture within the region of the Citadel; they now stood abandoned, a chain of forgotten and bankrupt asteroids floating in the calmer regions of the sometimes tempest nebula.

Although farming had been ceased on their surface, the gravity of the sub-planets and their unique location in calm areas made their orbit excellent areas to stage the construction of a fleet. As the Galten fell into position, nearly fifty vessels from the Council External Fleet had already been assembled and were awaiting orders to enter the nearby Citadel mass relay.

“Orbit locked,” said one of the piloting crew. She pushed back in her chair and looked out the large frontal window of the battleship. Outside, the fleet stood waiting. Several other ships were joining. In the distance, the Destiny Ascension IV could be seen taking its place among the asari ships- -truly an impressive sight, just as it must have seemed when the first Ascension- -now a museum exhibit on the Citadel- -took its place in the defense fleet against the Reapers.

Far to the port side, a different set of several small destroyers were gathering. Unlike the sweeping lines and rich colors of the asari ships or the angular birdlike shape of turian vessels, these were roughly shaped like bricks and festooned with a number of guns and frontal armor that was well past the line of ridiculousness. Most of those ships were painted green- -badly- -and they made several of the watching turians physically ill to look at.

“They even got the krogan,” sighed the female pilot, trying to hold down her lunch as she imagined what they must smell like on the inside.

“Hey, look over there,” said one of her compatriots. He pointed down past the krogan vessels at an oddly small ship that would have looked less out of place flying through the atmosphere of an agrosphere instead of above it. It was black and white, with a graceful fuselage and short wings.

“An Alliance ship? I didn’t know there were any left in the Council fleet.”

“That’s not just any Alliance ship! That’s the Normandy!”

The female pilot’s eyes widened. “That thing? It still flies?” She looked down at the human ship as it joined the krogan contingent while keeping a prudent distance. “That thing should be in a museum. It’s an antique.”

“It looks good. I hear the guy who flies it can’t even walk, but he puts seven coats of space-wax on it every two months.”

“Space wax? Really?”

“Cut the chatter,” chastised their ranking supervisor, who was sitting behind and above their section. “Keep the orbit clear and stay in formation. We could get a call to go out any minute, and we’re going to be the ones going out first.”

The pilots nodded and returned to their work, readying the vessel for battle. Higher on the bridge, at the topmost point, the captain looked out over the starchart and over his crew. His position was unique in the turian element of the fleet; he was responsible for command not only of his ship, but for acting as the primary leader of the entire turian group. While not a full strategic commander, the responsibility fell on him to lead the squad of ships in the execution of their orders. It was a complicated and difficult task, but he was prepared for the task.

To either side of him, a pair of embedded holographic projectors hummed to life. A pair of translucent holograms were drawn on either side of the captain. One was a serious looking young female in a general’s uniform, while the other was immediately recognizable as the turian Councilor.

“Primarch Victus, Councilor Vakarian,” said the captain, saluting. “It is an honor to have you on board.”

“How are the preparations?” asked Vakarian. Even as a hologram, he looked stunning. The captain had no idea how a turian of his caliber had never gotten married.

“The External Fleet is now in full formation and ready for orders.”

“I don’t like this, Vakarian,” said Victus. “You’re putting a lot of turian lives on the line here.”

“I know,” said Vakarian. “But I firmly believe it’s necessary.”

“I know it’s necessary. That’s why I gave my approval.”

“The Council fleet does not technically need your approval, Victus.”

“No, but you do need it to get a backup contingent set up in case you fail completely. Although against one ship, I have no idea how you could.”

“I assure you, Primarch,” said the captain, “we are fully equipped and battle ready. We have completed over four hundred percent of our training maneuver quota both within the turian element and with the remainder of the fleet. Even the krogan.”

“Yes,” said Vakarian. “I remember the invoice for the hole in your ship.”

“Sir, it would be our honor if you would be willing to command the fleet, even if you would only prefer to do so ceremonially.”

“I was never much of a military commander,” admitted Vakarian. “And besides, you know how the salarians are. If a Councilor tried to lead the fleet, they’d probably die of constipation.”

“I’m not even sure why we still put up with them,” said the Primarch. “We should have left with the humans.”

“Before Victus turns this into another political discussion, I have some information for you, captain. And you’re not going to like it.”

“Any intelligence will be helpful in our cause, sir.”

“One of my sources just contacted me. She seems to think that the enemy might attempt to engage the Citadel directly.”

“Directly?” scoffed Victus. “That would be suicide. They’d have to go through the External and Internal Fleets, as well as the Citadel’s intrinsic defenses. And what ‘source’ was this anyway? You know how I feel about your choice in confidence, Vakarian.”

“Have any of them ever been wrong?”

“Then have the salarians close the mass relay to non-Council IFFs. Captain Theros, have you detected anything that would corroborate Vakarian’s tale?”

“We detected some minor biphasic gravity distortions a few hours ago on the aft hull, but they have since stopped. We believe a sensor anomaly was the cause.”

“Then why are you wasting my time with it?”

“Just keep an eye out,” said Vakarian. “I’m going to check with the asari. They have a long-range sensor ship. I’ll have them check the area to be sure.”

“You’re approved for battle, captain,” said Victus, nodding to the captain who once again saluted.

“Thank you, Primarch. We will serve- -”

“Captain,” called the supervisor of the communications and scanning subsection. He sounded almost paniced. “We’re detecting a disturbance off the aft bow!”

“Nature of the disturbance? I need information on- -”

The question answered itself. The map in front of Theros suddenly began to recognize solid objects, and out the window, a ship flashed into existence from an explosion of violet energy. It was immediately followed by flashes of white and dark blue light on both sides; with every burst of energy, another vessel was pulled into existence. Within seconds, a formation of nearly a hundred alien ships had appeared, led by the ship that had come first even though many of them dwarfed it in size.

“Holy crap,” whispered Vakarian.

“Where did they come from?” demanded the Primarch. “The mass relay- -”

“There’s no sign of activation of the mass relay,” said the scanning supervisor. “Counting eighty seven distinct vessels, excluding fighters, but- -I can’t get a lock on a mass core on any of them!”

“Orders, captain?”

“Hold position,” said Vakarian.

“You do not have the authority to give them orders,” said the Primarch, harshly.

“Like hell I don’t! I’m not going to have my fleet start a war if we can at all avoid it! Not this close to the Citadel. There’s no time to evacuate- -we’re going to try to seal the Citadel on our side, but I need time. I need you to hold this line as long as you can!”

“You’re going to try to bluff them.”

The captain nodded, and turned to his crew. “All ships charge shields and weapons but DO NOT FIRE. Assume a line formation. Contact Edi on the Normandy and get her to pull back the krogan to the mid-rear, and put all our biggest ships on point. And get me linked to the Destiny Ascension.”

“I have to go. Crap- -I knew something like this would happen! Valena, get me in contact with Falere and bring me my gun!” Vakarian stepped outside of the hologram’s range and it deactivated.

“The fleet on our side is ready for battle,” said Victus. “It will be waiting on your orders. But Vakarian is right. Use it wisely.”

“I will make our people proud, Primarch.”

“And how is that any more than is already expected of you?”

She cut her connection, and the captain turned back to his crew. Although turians did not sweat, he felt like he was about to, and saw that his hands were shaking. He did his best to hide it, and readied himself for the battle to begin.

Apart from the prefabs installed inside his body, Armchair’s mass effect core was the only part of his body that was not geth. It was quite apparent that it was something else entirely, a mass of bizarre curves and angles forming an almost organic looking, hydra-like mass of tubes and cables that seemed to cling to the ceiling and floor. It hummed loudly, and to Starlight, it sounded like a heart. In a sense, it was.

Now, though, the uneven floor of the engine room contained a second device. Linked to the main core and processing ports at strategic portions of the internal energy distribution system were the remnants of the vessel that Starlight had spent twenty years of her life floating in. It had been pulled apart and opened, separated and reconfigured, but it had still been her prison. Her only consolation about being forced to use it was that at least now it could be used for something beneficial.

Arachne clicked around her platform, attaching the complex array of cables to her back. Even inactive, they each had a sensation, as though something unpleasant was being shoved beneath Starlight’s skin- -or, perhaps, each connection served as a reminder that non-removable implants had already been replaced beneath her skin.

A signal arrived in Starlight’s omnitool, and she opened it. It contained a simple text file. Arachne, unlike the other members of the crew, was not able to speak, but he was able to write.

“Are you sure about this, Starlight?” it read.

“Yes. I am,” said Starlight. “Thank you for helping me build this.”

A second message. “It is only a shame that such a device must be used for battle. This universe already holds so many sad songs, and songs of pain.”

“I know. I know, Arachne.”

Arachne scuttled around her for a few more minutes, and then stepped back, climbing vertically up one of the curving, technology encrusted walls. He opened his omnitool and typed into it.

“It is done,” read his message. “But we cannot guarantee it will work. You could die.”

“Great, now you tell me.” She closed her omnitool and put her hoof onto the makeshift floor below her. “Are you ready, Armchair?”

“We are,” said Armchair.

“Right,” said Starlight, taking her seat. “Let’s do this.”

Arachne changed the screen on his omnitool and engaged the procedure. The system surrounding Starlight began to hum to life, and she tried to control her breathing, not knowing how it would feel.

Then it hit her in a flash. She was vaguely aware that she was screaming, but it was difficult to tell. The sensation was bizarre, like having her mind and body falling out of sync. It hurt, and it hurt a lot- -but at the same time, Starlight could feel her magic expanding exponentially.

It felt like it had on Trixie’s ship, and like then, Starlight felt herself slipping away, her consciousness collapsing- -but she resisted. She took control of her magic and forced it to obey her instead of the machine, and the machine responded.

The effect was something like suddenly awakening. Starlight opened her eyes, and found that she was no longer limited to her body. She was somewhere else, but not anywhere in particular. The closest sensation she could think of was of floating, not against gravity instead in an emptiness that was simultaneously peaceful and tempest.

She quickly discovered that she was not alone. There were other presences, and Starlight felt them before they resolved into seven shining balls of light surrounding her in a circle, each one linked to the others by complicated, web-like tendrils of red, and each one talking nonstop to the others.

“System linked,” said one.

“Devoting processing to inbound consciousness.”

“Starlight Glimmer connected.”

“Hello, Starlight.” The last one echoed between all seven.

Starlight understood. Although she had always thought of him as one person, Armchair was actually seven geth. These were them, and in them, Starlight could see their history. She could see a broken and nearly destroyed geth armature lying all alone on a distant alien planet, its programs separated from their only path back home. She saw these seven survivors coming together, linking, and creating something greater than the sum of their parts, an inseparable and unique lifeform. Now, she saw them allowing her to join them.

“Alright,” she said, or perhaps thought. “Hello, Armchairs. You’re all so adorable.”

The spheres spoke for a moment and rapidly came to the consensus that they were. Then one of them spoke. “Jack indicates that the Citadel is currently in the process of emergency closure. The pony fleet has arrived.”

“That is bad.”

“That would be bad.”

“Agreed.”

“I think it would be a good thing.”

“I disagree.”

“Agreed.”

“You already voted.”

“It’s not a problem,” said Starlight, smiling at their antics. “That’s not how I operate.”

She stretched out her consciousness through the geth and into their body, dominating it. Armchair’s body became hers. She saw though his sensors, and felt her friends moving around inside him. This, she realized, must be how he always felt- -and how Twilight saw the world.

“Preparing engines.”

“Don’t bother,” said Starlight. “I won’t be using them.” She reached out with her magic and engulfed the ship. To her, it was secondary; a housing for her amplifier and for her, rather than an actual vehicle. Unlike Trixie, she did not require a FTL conversion engine. She was strong enough to accomplish the same thing through telekinesis alone. That would only be a limitation.

Starlight focused her mind forward in the direction of the assembling fleet, and she felt herself accelerate.

Rainbow Dash looked out at the heterogeneous alien fleet aligned before her. Next to her, Scootaloo was sweating. The two fleets had arrived for the battle, but it seemed that neither wanted to shoot first. The tension was so high that even the breeders seemed to realize that something was amiss. Rainbow Dash, however, did not. She just smiled nonchalantly at the scene before her, taking her time and enjoying herself.

“Our target?”

“Here,” said her breeder assistant, shifting the holographic projection to show the alien megastructure. Even in the hologram, Scootaloo could see that the five arms of the station were closing.

“It’s trying to clam up,” said Rainbow Dash. “What’s it got for defense?”

“No signs of magical structural reinforcement or shielding.”

“So it’s completely defenseless, then?”

“Correct.”

“How many people are on it?” asked Scootaloo.

“We are detecting approximately fifteen million lifeforms over twenty kilograms.”

“That many?” Scootaloo looked up at Rainbow Dash, but saw that her sister only looked more intrigued.

“Well, this should be good, then. Charge the Orbital Friendship Cannon and target it. One shot should be enough. And if those enemy ships survive the quantum wake, target that one.” Rainbow Dash pointed up at the largest of the vessels outside, a large swooping dreadnaught with a glowing blue maw in the front. “The big one right there. Cut it in half with the standard guns. As a show of force.”

“Dimensional sheer weapon is charged and ready to fire,” indicated the breeder.

“Watch this, Scoots,” said Rainbow Dash. “You’re about to see me become a hero.”

There was a disturbance from the crew of breeders and ponies in the lower bridge.

“What’s happening?” asked Scootaloo.

“We’re detecting an incoming vessel,” said the breeder. The hologram amplified the image, showing an oddly shaped vessel covered in windows and surrounded by a sphere of light. Scootaloo felt her breath catch; she had spent quite a bit of time looking at that particular ship and recognized it easily.

“So?” said Rainbow Dash. “That thing’s tiny.”

“Yes, but it is breaking several velocity records at present. Also, scans indicate that it contains one active and one inactive Core.”

“Trixie,” gasped Scootaloo.

“I’m really tired of that Core. She’s a traitor anyway. Ignore her.” Rainbow Dash opened up her panel. “I’m just going to fire the cannon. I’ve so always wanted to do this.”

“Wait!” cried Scootaloo.

It was too late. The ship rang slightly and space itself seemed to vibrate. Then the violet beam shot out of frontal cannon.

Starlight burst past the Council lines before they even had a chance to realize what was going on. A brief scan of the area showed that Lrya had been right: there were far more ships with the Harmony than Starlight had ever imagined there would be.

That was not all her scan revealed. Something was wrong with the Harmony. Armchair’s scanners could not pick it up, but Starlight’s amplified biotics could. The ship felt different, and Starlight immediately knew why. Something had gone wrong. Twilight was no longer in control.

Then a second signal formed. A surge of magic surrounded the front end of the Harmony, condensing on an imbedded frontal spike. Starlight already knew what that meant before it even fired, and she quickly calculated the trajectory. Whoever was firing was not aiming for any of the Council Fleet. They were aiming for the Citadel.

Starlight knew there was only one option. She swerved sideways and put herself in the path of the beam.

“Direct hit on the small ship,” said the breeder.

Rainbow Dash shrugged. “Well, one less thing I have to deal with.”

The Harmony suddenly started shaking, and the tremor rapidly became more violent.

“What’s happening?” demanded Rainbow Dash to anypony who would answer.

“We’re receiving harmonic feedback off their shields!”

“SHEILDS?! How could there be SHEILDS?! They should have been vaporized! Their vapor should have been vaporized!”

The shaking grew increasingly violent and then a loud explosion erupted through the Harmony. It had enough force to knock Scootaloo sideways, and Rainbow Dash caught her. “What the hay was that?!”

“The dimensional sheer cannon has backfed into our internal systems. The megastructure remains undamaged.”

“Then fire again!”

“We can’t. The cannon was destroyed. Interlocks managed to protect the Core itself, but several key systems have been lost, including but not limited to internal magic suppression, frontal high-speed stabilization, and life support on decks seventeen through- -”

“Then get it fixed!”

“Those repaires would take months, even with- -”

With a scream of rage, Rainbow Dash punched the breeder in the face, knocking her to the ground. “Don’t you dare tell me what I can or can’t do!” Scootaloo galloped quickly to the white Pegasus’s side to help her up. “Buck this,” said Rainbow Dash. “Fleet, prepare to engage!”

Distantly, Starlight could smell the scent of smoke and feel the pain as the implants in her back overcame their cooling system, glowing and burning into her spine. The pain was exquisite and nearly unbearable, but she kept her focus, driving the force Twilight’s magic back into the Harmony.

“Come on, Twilight, you know you don’t want to do this,” she muttered. “Fight it>”

The beam surrounded her shields, and with all her strength, Starlight pushed forward- -and felt something inside Twilight’s ship snap and shatter, like a distant bone breaking. Her shields momentarily detonated as the beam broke its connection, and Starlight cried out.

Not hesitating, she quickly reassembled her shields and focused on the Harmony. Her plan would have to change. There was still time to stop a war, as long as she acted quickly and did not let them strike first.

“Jack, Lyra, Zedok, are you all ready?” she asked. Armchair relayed several affirmative replies.

Starlight reached out with her magic toward the nearest of the pony ships. To her surprise, the instant she grasped it, its shields cracked and burst apart like a soap bubble. It was startling how fragile it was compared to the Harmony.

The frigate resisted for a moment, but it had no chance of breaking free. Starlight pulled it across space, knocking it into several other ships before finally slamming it into the starboard side of the Harmony. The force was not enough to destroy either ship, but it put the Harmony off balance.

Before any of the ships could react, Starlight raced forward, hoping that Sjdath had installed her cannons properly. She opened fire, and watched as the Harmony’s shields buckled under the impact. Those shields were much stronger, but not durable enough to prevent Starlight from strafing a long streak of damage through the side of the ship.

The surrounding fleet opened fire, not at the Council ships but at Starlight. Their weapons hurt, but not nearly as bad as Twilight’s frontal cannon had. Armchair’s subunits spread out, taking control of his weapons and returning fire. Starlight did her best to maintain her shields and her barrage- -and to activate a teleportation spell.

Then the Harmony returned fire. Its guns suddenly appeared along its surface: large hovering spheres of violet energy projected over spiny dissipaters that erupted into barrages of magical bolts and rays, all targeted directly onto the geometric weak points of Starlight’s shields

Starlight had not been expecting the magnitude of difference in those guns. When they struck, she was too busy devoting magic to forward motion and her own weapons. She had gotten careless, and several of the beams cut long holes through Armchair’s side. Immediately, Starlight moved to reinforce the shields- -only to suddenly have part of her field suddenly snapped.

She cried out. In her body far below, she felt Arachne shifting her ports, trying to compensate for how much energy she was dissipating. “Armchair,” she said, “what just happened?”

“There is a short in sector D. Acceleration is dropping. Compensating with mass-effect core.”

“It hurts so much,” wheezed Starlight. She summoned her focus and connected through one of the Armchairs. “Sjdath, part of my system just failed. I can’t keep up my speed. You have to fix it.”

“Fix it? I’m a salvage operator, not a wizard!”

“Arachne’s busy, and I can’t…” Starlight felt her consciousness fade for a moment, only to be awakened as several fighters closed in on her position and began to open fire targeting the hole in her side. She tried to pull away, but to her horror, she was slowing. “Please…”

“Easy for you to say,” said Sjdath. In ‘sector D’, Sjdath was hiding behind a Mako tire as one of the systems that Starlight had installed produced long, roaring arcs of blue energy. She turned to the pony hiding beside her. “How does she expect me to do anything about it?”

“I can bypass that area,” said Starlight, her voice disembodied and shadowed by Armchair’s, projected from the inside of the ship itself, “but you need to close the manifold valve.”

Trixie looked over the tire at the damaged panel. “She’s losing too much magic. If we don’t do something, she’s going to bleed to death!”

“‘We’? Good to know I have the support of the horse!”

“We just have to get through the discharge. If we could- -”

Sjdath ignored her and stood up. Out of cover, the arcs of magical energy immediately homed onto her body. She was nearly thrown backward, but managed to bear the energy that suddenly came to pass through her body.

“How- -how are you doing that?”

“I am vorcha. We are the future.” Sjdath began to walk slowly against the magnetic repulsion of the biotic discharge. It did indeed hurt, but pain was good. Pain was a gift, and this was the gift she had been given by the pony Lyra Heartstrings: after nearly dying from hit, her vorcha body was now resistant to magic.

The ship rumbled and shook as Starlight continued to lose control, but Sjdath kept clawing her way toward her goal until she could finally reach the epicenter. The manifold was a large and complex pony device installed into the wall, and despite being ruptured, it was still mostly intact. Sjdath took hold of the disengagement handle and began to pull.

It did not move. She tried harder, but to no avail. The energy pouring through her body was only increasing, and it was staring to become unbearable. Then she saw the handle suddenly glow blue with a shade of biotic energy that was not the same as Starlight’s.

Sjdath looked to her side and saw Trixie standing in her shadow, her horn glowing as she struggled to pull down the interlock.

“Ponies,” said Sjdath. Together they both pulled as hard as they could.

Then a powerful blast from one of the Harmony’s guns cut through the frontal shields and burned away much of the upper deck. Armchair shook and the feedback into what was left of Starlight’s shields drove out a small explosion from the manifold. Trixie cried out as the magic arced into her, throwing her back.

Sjdath let go of the handle but was pushed back several feet.

“Screw this,” she said, reaching for the pistol on her belt. “I’ll have to recalibrate it manually.”

She lifted her arm and allowed her omnitool to aim for her- -and then fired several rounds straight into the manifold. It almost instantly exploded, throwing her back.

With the short cleared, the internal switching systems unfroze. Starlight immediately felt her magic returning to full strength and accelerated past the fighters that were pursuing her, firing her own weapons in reverse and cutting away their stabilizers.

Sjdath, thrown back by the explosion, landed beside Trixie.

“Ow,” she groaned. “Hey, pony, are you dead?”

“No,” moaned Trixie, who was smoking slightly from the discharge.

“Unfortunate. I was hoping to eat you. Yet somehow I am pleased.” She lifted the pistol that had just saved her life over her head and looked at it. “Now I can see why harpoon rounds were banned.”

“So much power…”

“I know. Defintly something a human would come up with.”

Trixie laid back silently and did not bother to remind Sjdath that she was not talking about the bullets.

Away from the fighting, a small ship watched the battle from its perch magnetized to the top surface of the Galen 64. On board, Bob, now completely naked, watched the battle unfold on the piloting monitors as she sipped the contents of a juice box.

Marc Antony sat beside her, covering one side of his face with his hand to avert his eyes.

“Why do you have to be so ugly?” he asked, sounding as though he were on the verge of vomiting despite not having a stomach.

“Come on, Marc, you know you like it.”

“No, I don’t. I really don’t.”

“Hey, at least I wear the Cerberus uniform when I have to. But it’s my ship, so I can walk around naked if I want to. Just like Commander Shepard used to.”

“I don’t think Commander Shepard actually did that.”

“Shure he did. Why wouldn’t he? If I was him- -and look at me, I basically am- -I totally would. I would have also totally hit that justicar. Hard.”

“Can’t you just watch ponies get blown up like a normal person?”

“Sure,” said Bob, leaning forward. “But it’s a little boring right now. Why don’t I give them some help?”

She reached out for a small, innocuous button on the complicated control panel.

“Um, that’s the front camera cleaning wiper switch,” said Marc Antony.

“I know. I ran out of switches, so I borrowed this one.”

“I’m glad we didn’t go through any rain, then.”

“Yeah, space rain. Sure.”

Bob pressed the button. Across the battlefield, a pony technician in an obscure storage room turned his head, confused as to why Starlight’s collar was suddenly beeping. He did not have time to ask his several assistants about it, though, because he was instantly atomized by the atomic blast as it detonated, tearing an immense hole into the Harmony from the inside.

The blast nearly knocked Zedok to the floor. “Damnit! What the hell is Starlight doing out there?” She looked around and then ducked behind one of the white walls as a barrage of pony weaponfire came pouring down one of the long overly clean hallways. A group of pony guards was approaching. When Zedok and the others had teleported in, she had gotten a good look at what the ponies had. Some of them had large weapons mounted on their backs like elcor, but a few were unicorn biotics.

Zedok raised her shotgun, preparing to engage. The one good thing about having cybernetic arms was that she could actually handle the recoil properly now, and she was itching to see how well it shot- -but far more hesitant to see what a Graal spikethrower did to a pony.

She never needed to fire. Lrya’s mechanized exoskeleton lumbered by, raising its arm and firing a heavy barrage of blue energy. It continued to march forward, its darkened windows staring almost sadistically as it tore through the pony ranks with every weapon it had available and absorbed their attacks as though they were nothing.

Zedok looked across the hallway and then biotic sprinted to the next perpendicular corridor. Her intention was to take a more outer hallway to try to flank the ponies and take them from behind. Ideally, they would surrender at that point- -but Zedok had mentally prepared herself for the other option as well.

She moved swiftly through the halls of the ship, ignoring the blasts from outside as Starlight poured heavy fire into it, cutting it apart from the outside. Her dark colored armor felt perfect against her body, and she could almost feel her mother’s protection.

Another strong blast shook the Harmony, and Zedok turned a corner- -directly into a group of ponies. She pointed her shotgun at their leader, a pure white winged pony with almost demonic red eyes, and began to pull the trigger.

“Wait, please!” he said. “Don’t shoot! We’re unarmed!”

Zedok release the trigger and lowered the shotgun. She saw that he was right. Him and several other nearly identical male and female ponies- -many of whom were burned or bleeding- -were standing in a group. Some were carrying other ponies of other colors who were much more worse off, their skin blistering and falling away from burns or their blood saturating their white companions. There were no white ponies who were not able to walk on their own power.

“We have wounded,” said the lead pony, “the blast- -it took many of us. We’re not bred for violence. Please, we need help!”

Zedok looked at him, and at his friends, and for a moment she understood her father a little better. The wounded, with their blood and weak moans, made his beliefs make much more sense.

“Come on,” said Zedok, kicking herself for what she was about to do. “We have a doctor. I’ll get you out of here.”

“Thank you,” said the white pony, his red eyes dilating with gratefulness. “Thank you so much.”

On the bridge, Rainbow Dash screamed with rage. “What is happening? Some REPORT!”

“We’ve had a massive internal detonation in the lower decks,” said the breeder assistant, a fresh bruise already growing on her face. “And reports are coming in that we’ve been boarded. They are indicating that there is a…”

“A what?”

“A Questlord anthro unit making its way toward the Core.”

“Heartsrings!” hissed Rainbow Dash. She glared down at Scootaloo. “Is EVERYPONY on your crew a traitor?”

“I don’t know why Lyra would do that,” protested Scootaloo. “It’s not like her!” That was a lie, of course. Lyra was a mercenary. She would do anything for money. Scootaloo was just glad- -and relieved- -that she was still alive. So far, nopony she knew personally had died.

“Mobilize the guards!” said Rainbow Dash. She was clearly straining under the stress of being forced to command both the Harmony and the Fleet. Scootaloo could tell that Rainbow Dash had been expecting an easy victory when instead she had been pulled out of her comfort zone. She was being forced to do Twilight’s job at the expense of her own.

“We have,” said the breeder. “There just aren’t enough- -the Harmony was intended to operate using internal drone units for protection and repair.”

“Then throw everything we have at it! Give the breeders guns!”

“If we spare any more, we will not be able to manage triage repairs or medical first aid.”

Rainbow Dash raised her hoof. “Don’t you question me, farm-raised!”

Scootaloo put herself between Rainbow Dash and the breeder. “We don’t have time for this! Close the internal bulkheads! She’ll be able to cut through them, but they’ll at least slow her down.”

“That’s actually a good idea, squirt. Do it.”

In all the confusion, nopony noticed a green pony with a scarred face and unusually heavy armor making her ways through the halls. Many ponies saw her, but in their rush they did not bother to consider why she was there or who she was. To them, she was just another pony. Nopony even noticed when she walked onto the upper level of the bridge; all the guards were too busy on the lower decks fighting her exoskeleton.

Of the three ponies on the upper bridge, the first to notice Lyra was the breeder. Her red eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to warn the other two, but Lyra lunged before she could speak.

She crossed the distance and leapt onto Rainbow Dash’s back. The Pegasus cried out, fluttering her wings and gaining lift as she tried to escape, but Lyra held on tightly, her cybernetic arms pressing around the Fleet Commander’s neck.

“Lyra!” cried Scootaloo. “What are you doing?!”

“Get off me you undead bitc- -”

“Starlight! I have her! Do it! NOW!”

A surge of magic homed in onto Lyra’s, and in a surge of blue light, Lyra and Rainbow Dash flashed out of existence.

“No!” cried Scootaloo. “Rainbow Dash!”

The room fell silent quickly. Rainbow Dash’s breeder froze, and the ponies in the lower bridge just seemed to stop. They murmured in confusion.

Scootaloo looked around, panicked. She knew that Rainbow Dash had been teleported- -she hoped it had been a teleport, anyway, and could not bring herself to consider the other option- -but she had no idea to where.

“Rainbow Dash?” said Scootaloo, activating a comlink on Rainbow Dash’s now empty control interface. “Come in, Rainbow Dash!”

There was no response. Scootaloo was alone, and the implications of that suddenly hit her. The Fleet no longer had a commander.

“Your orders?” asked the female breeder.

“My- -MY orders?”

“You were identified as second in command. We are awaiting your orders.”

“No, I can’t, I’m not supposed to- -”

“You have to,” said the breeder, her professional demeanor momentarily breaking down. “The Fleet needs a leader. Especially now. We’re…we’re scared.”

Scootaloo looked back toward the door of the bridge. She wanted to run and hide. She had never wanted this- -she had never even wanted to be in the navy. This was Rainbow Dash’s job, and the only reason Scootaloo had gone along with it was to be with the mare she loved.

She did not run, though. She took a deep breath and stepped to the edge of the upper bridge. She could not believe what she was doing, but she knew that somepony had to do it. “I am assuming control as Fleet Commander!” she shouted, addressing them. “All of you, get back to your posts and get me a report on the other ships in the fleet!” Scootaloo stepped back to the main portion of the bridge and lowered Rainbow Dash’s command interface. She turned to the breeder. “What’s your name?”

“My name?” she asked, confused. “It’s 992-Station AG233-Subgroup 6- -”

“I can’t remember all that. Your name’s Wintrygust now.”

“Okay,” said Wintrygust, slightly surprised.

“Situation?”

“Onboard, the anthro unit appears to have departed by teleport. As has the unnamed enemy ship containing the EQX Core. I would hypothesize that they were only distractions. Their goal must have always been the Fleet Commander.”

“Connect me to the Fleet.”

“Connection established.”

“All units,” said Scootaloo, shivering as she realized just how many ponies of equal or greater rank she was addressing. “This is Captain Scootaloo of the RENS Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash is no longer able to perform her duties, and as such, I am assuming control of the Fleet. All units fall back into formation. Disengage from the alien fleet and DO NOT ATTACK.”

The hologram in the center of the bridge shifted, and a small hologram of a Pegasus was rendered on one side.

“This is outrageous!” she said. “You do not have the authority to command us!”

“I’m claiming it by right of bloodline.”

“You aren’t even a blood relative of the Fleet Commander! If anything, a ranking admiral should be taking control, not a Captain who should still be scrubbing toilets in the Academy!”

“An admiral like you, Lightning Dust?”

“I am assuming control of this fleet,” she said. “All units, target the front guard and engage on my- -”

“All units, target the RENS Wingpony and prepare to perform an immediate execution on charges of mutiny and high treason!”

Lightning Dust’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”

“Your ship is a multicore battlefrigate. Your Cores are armor plated. They will survive the blast and be recovered. Nothing important will be lost.”

“You little filly fooler- -you don’t have the guts!”

“All units in range reporting target as acquired,” said Wintrygust. “The Harmony’s weapons have also been directed toward the target.

“Then fire on my mark. M- -”

“Wait!” cried Lightning Dust.

“Fall back into formation,” demanded Scootaloo. “And after this stunt, you can expect to be scrubbing toilets yourself.”

Lightning Dust’s hologram looked angrily at Scootaloo, and then vanished. Outside, her battlefrigate shifted back into formation. Scootaloo breathed a long sight of relief and wiped the sweat away from her forehead. Her whole body was shaking. It was clear that she was not meant for this job.

“Winterygust, find a pony named Carrot Top and get her up here.”

“Carrot Top?”

“She has a piece of alien technology in her arm. She’s the only pony here who can open up a communication line with the aliens. I’m not going to start a war here. Not now and not ever.”

Scootaloo sat on her haunches and tried to calm down. As she did, violet light began to condense beside her. It eventually resolved into the shape of an alicorn.

Twilight blinked and looked up at the window. “I’m not where I just was,” she said. “Where am I? And who messed up my bridge!? And why are there so many aliens outside- -oh, hey, would you look at that, a megastructure!”

“Great timing, Twilight,” sighed Scootaloo. “Great timing…”

Rainbow Dash exited the teleport and fell to the dusty ground below. Initially, she was horribly disoriented and stood to find herself on a strange planet. All around her were dirty, unkempt fields overgrown with the anemic descendants of escaped crop plants and long-abandoned buildings. The atmosphere was stale, thin, and cold, but the nebula-filled sky above was shockingly bright and beautiful- -and dotted with several clearly visible vessels high above floating in two clearly delineated battle lines.

There was no time to admire the sky, though. Rainbow Dash spun around spread her wings defensively. Lyra had released her and stood back, a thin smile crossing her hideous scarred lips.

“Traitor!” cried Rainbow Dash, rushing forward, only to slam headlong into a wall of orange energy.

“I am,” said Lyra. “And I’ve never been happier.”

Rainbow Dash backed away and prepared for a different approach. Lyra was a unicorn and as such virtually unstoppable. Still, Rainbow Dash was far faster, even with one damaged wing and one poorly operational transplant. She knew that given the opportunity, she could flank Lyra before the unicorn could react.

Before she could enact her brilliant plan, though, there were several small explosions. Rainbow Dash turned to see a pair of teleportation spells engaging around her. One brought a blue girl, dressed in dark armor and carrying an enormous yellow gun, her body saturated in pony blood. The other brought down the Questlord mecha, which stepped forward and stabilized.

The exoskeleton’s cockpit shifted and the blackened glass opened. An alien tumbled out. Shakily, she reached for a pair of goggles hanging around her neck to cover her silver eyes. “Goddamn it, it’s tight in there,” she said, weakly. “I feel like I just drank a bottle of ryncol and ran a marathon.”

“I told you, the autonavigation system is rough,” said Lrya, unable to suppress a smirk as she crossed to their side of the ruined pasture. “You’ve got the juice, but not the control. It’s amazing you got as far as you did.”

“Still,” said the tattooed human, standing. “That was the second most fun thing in my life.”

“What was the first?” asked the blue girl.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

A third teleportation spell activated, and this time two ponies appeared. At least, Rainbow Dash thought that they were ponies- -until she saw the segmented metal on their spines and the implants on their head.

“You! You did this!”

“It’s over, Rainbow Dash,” said Starlight, stepping forward. “You’ve lost.”

“No, I haven’t,” said Rainbow Dash, laughing at their ignorance. “Do you think getting rid of me will stop my Fleet? My sister will take command immediately, and when she does, you filthy aliens will DIE.”

“Your sister is currently organizing a ceasefire.”

“What?” said Rainbow Dash, angered that a dirty Core would insult Scootaloo so badly. “What are you- -”

Another teleportation spell activated, this one next to Rainbow Dash. This time, it was violet.

Scootaloo immediately appeared beside Rainbow Dash, and beside her, a clockwork alicorn automaton. The robot’s horn glowed, and holographic Twilight Sparkle appeared.

“Scootaloo!” screamed Rainbow Dash angrily. “What the hey are you doing down here! You should be commanding the Fleet like I told you to!”

“I’ve already given the command to end hostilities. We’re pulling back, Rainbow Dash.”

“WHAT? What is WRONG with you?! You’re supposed to be my sister! Kill the dirty aliens! Be a hero like me and DO WHAT I TELL YOU!”

Rainbow Dash pushed Scootaloo, and Scootaloo’s expression immediately hardened.

“You know what?” she yelled, pushing Rainbow Dash back. “I’m done! I’m done with this! I just averted a galactic war, and you’re STILL not happy?! All I ever wanted was to get your approval- -I never wanted any of this! I didn’t want to join the navy, or be a captain, or command the Fleet! I wanted you to marry me and wear an apron and greet you every day when you come home and have your pony babies! But now I don’t even know if I want THAT! Every piece of advice you’ve ever give me has been terrible!” Scootaloo’s voice lowered, and she wiped the tears away from her eyes. “I can’t believe I ever believed in you…you’re not a good pony, Rainbow Dash.”

Rainbow Dash’s eyes widened, and she looked to Twilight. “Back me up on this, Twi.”

“Don’t call me ‘Twi’,” said Twilight, her tone not nearly as angry as Scootaloo’s but just as disapproving. “You just took control of me while I was unconscious and tried to use me to attack sentient lifeforms unprovoked, something I would never condone. That’s a serious breach of trust, Rainbow. I can’t believe you did that.”

“Twilight…”

“We’ll have a lot to talk about later,” said Twilight, turning away from Rainbow Dash. She instead turned to Starlight, who was glaring at her angrily. “We have more pressing issues.”

Scootaloo stepped forward into the space between the two groups. She looked up at Starlight, and then at Trixie.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Trixie, I’m so sorry. That doesn’t make it better, but when you left, I thought- -I thought I would never get to apologize. I’m not going to lose the chance again. You’re a Core, a machine built by the government to power my ship- -but I don’t care. Rainbow Dash was wrong. You ARE a member of my crew. No, you’re my FRIEND. At least, you were until I screwed it up.” She lowered her head. “In Equestria, you’ll always be considered property. But never by me. To me, you’re a pony. You always were. I’m just so sorry.” She sighed. “Thank you for listening.” She started to turn away.

“Wait,” said Trixie, stepping forward and joining Scootaloo.

“Trixie!” said Starlight, her eyes widening.

“Starlight…thank you for all your help. And thank you for being there for me. I wish…I wish I could stay. I wish I could so much. But I’m not like you. I just…I just can’t.” Trixie looked back at Starlight, her eyes quivering. “But I can never be the same. Not after what they did to me. And she needs me, Starlight.”

“If you go with them, you can never come back. You know that, right?”

Trixie smiled. “I know.”

Starlight reached out a foreleg, as if she were going to try to stop Trixie from leaving, but Jack put a hand on her shoulder. “No,” she said. “You have to let her make her own choices.”

Trixie rejoined the other group with Scootaloo.

“As for you,” said Twilight. “You’ve done a tremendous amount of damage.”

“And I will do more if I have to. I won’t let you hurt this galaxy. And I won’t let you take me.”

“You know,” said Twilight, her holographic eyes shifting to Rainbow Dash. “You told me something. And I can’t help but wonder if you were right.” She looked back at Starlight. She stared at the unicorn for a long while, and then sighed. “I’m going to list you as destroyed in the battle.”

“What?!” shouted Rainbow Dash.

“Starlight Glimmer, you died today. Your ship was damaged and you succumbed to the trauma. Never return to Equestria. You never should need to. Just go.” She looked up at the beautiful nebula above, even though her eyes were just blind images intended to look real. “Live the life that we never could.”

“Do you think that’s good enough?”

“Starlight?” said Jack, startled.

“After what you did, the crimes you committed? You think you can just exile me and make them go away?”

“We can pay reparations if that- -”

“That’s not what I mean. Sure, you can apologize endlessly for what you did to me- -while you keep doing it to others.” Starlight’s eyes narrowed, and she stepped forward, facing the holographic alicorn. “Yes, I’ll stay here. I’ll life my life as I see fit, as a pony among equals. But I’m not going to let you get away with this. I’ll be back. I don’t know when, but I WILL return, for the other Cores and the breeders and any other ponies that your sick society is exploiting. I will bring Equality to Equestria, Twilight. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Twilight neither frowned nor smiled. She just looked at Starlight, almost curiously. “I suppose you will. Perhaps we will be ready for you when you return.” She directed her attention toward Lyra. “And you?”

“There’s nothing for me in Equestria. Not anymore.”

“So be it. You have served more than long enough. You can rest now, if that is your choice.”

The Twilight hologram looked back at Starlight, and then faded. Trixie waved to Starlight one last time before her, Scootaloo, Rainbow Dash, and the alicorn robot were engulfed in violet energy and teleported away. Starlight looked upward, and far overhead, the pony fleet began to illuminate with blue and white light as it teleported away, returning to Equestria. The battle was over, and the war averted- -and yet somehow, Starlight still felt so bad.

Zedok lowered her shotgun and approached Starlight, putting her hand on the unicorn’s shoulder.

“It’s over,” said Jack. “Let’s go home, Star.”

“Yeah,” said Starlight, looking up at the sky and into the depths of space. “Home…”

Chapter 1: Salvage

The blackness of space was suddenly interrupted by a flash of light. Slowly, a spot formed on the surface of the frozen metal hull, rapidly progressing from dull red to bright white. Then, as the tech blade pierced the alien steel, it began to move, slowly cutting a circular opening. Metal burst forth as droplets without a sound, the droplets drifting into the derelict ship and cooling quickly in the icy vacuum.

Then the cutting stopped. The last part of the metal cooled, and the hull shook as the metal plug was removed, filling the inside of the ship with a combination of dim starlight and the harsh white spotlight of the ship tethered above.

The first though the hole was Si’y. His motions were as swift and agile as ever. Zero-gravity environments were of little consequence to a being from an aquatic race, and Si’y moved as easily as he did over land, his metal-clad tentacles gently swaying before finally reaching up and removing an assault rifle and pistol from their mounts on the rear of his armored suit.

Sjdath followed immediately behind him, first gripping the edge of the hole she had cut with her long claws and then propelling herself into the dark void within. As she did, she checked her omnitool- -which, in her case, was actually six or seven formerly broken omnitools kludged together and configured to her personal specifications.

She clicked away at the holographic interface with one claw, and paused, somewhat concerned. Her vertical slit-pupils dilated, and she compulsively adjusted the valves on her respirator, increasing the concentration of sulfur dioxide.

“Has a problem been encountered?” asked Si’y, his monotone voice transmitted through their comlink. As a hanar, his inflection was always the same, but Sjdath could have sworn that he was being sarcastic.

“No,” she rasped. “The spectrometry function on this omnitool may need to be recalibrated.”

“Why?”

“The isotope analysis indicates that this ship is made of an alloy that I do not recognize.”

“Would such a thing be unusual?”

Sjdaht’s eyes narrowed. “I know many alloys.”

“Indeed, this one would expect that Captain Sjdath does, but it doubts that you can know them all.”

Sjdath just grunted. Of course Si’y was right, but there was no way she was going to admit it. So, instead, she activated the light function on her omnitool. Si’y responded by activating his own lights. They revealed long, shadowy corridors that curved outward from their location. They were slightly shorter than standard turian design. Had the gravity system been intact, Sjdath would have needed to hunch over to walk through.

“Two narrow, perhaps?” asked Si’y, turning back toward his boss.

Sjdath shook her head. “I once salvaged a volus patrol cruiser trapped in the well of a gas giant. This is nothing. Unless it is too tight for you?”

“It is never too tight for this one.” Si’y folded his tentacles slightly to drift through the corridor.

The pair moved slowly through the vessel, checking the area carefully. Most of the time, the crews of abandoned vessels were long gone, but in a few cases, there were still remnants of the crew- -or competitors trying to claim the salvage for themselves. That was what Sjdath had hired Si’y for, of course. She herself was not effective with firearms, but Si’y was so loaded down with weapons that he needed an extra-powerful mass effect driver just to keep him floating in artificial gravity.

Something about this ship still made Sjdath nervous, though. She was not sure exactly what. Abandoned ships always had a certain quality about them. They were just so still, so quiet. Sometimes, there were signs of horrible struggle: scars from pirate rifles, or remnants from horrible systematic failures. Other times, the life seemed to have simply stopped. Food still floating where it had been left, contents of desks undisturbed, letters half-written. The second situation was always the more unnerving of the two.

This ship was different, though. Sjdath had seen a great many vessels in her seven years of life, but never anything like this. The architecture was unlike anything she had ever seen. The design featured far more curves and swoops than she was accustomed to, but they all seemed unusually efficient for such a florid design- -and it was that strangeness that made it terrifying.

“I don’t like this,” she said.

“To this one, it just resembles- -”

Si’y’s transmission was suddenly overwhelmed with a warbling distorted sound that resulted from his photoprocessor failing to translate the visual equivalent of hanar screaming. A shadowy figure had suddenly jumped from a partially open door, instantly blocking their path and lurching forward toward them.

Despite their appearance, hanar were deceptively quick. One of Si’ys tentacles switched forward, its mechanical manipulator drawing a pistol. A flash of light went out, illuminating the darkness of the hallway, and the figure was struck. It lurched, and drifted backward through space as Si’y fired again.

“Dyrak! Hold your fire!” Sjdath slammed her fist into Si’y, pushing him against the wall of the corridor. Before he could protest, she shined her own light on the figure and indicated that it had been quite dead long before they had reached it.

The two looked up at the floating corpse for a moment, watching it bump against the wall and float backward slightly. It resembled many of the bodies that Sjdath had become all-too familiar with in her line of work: skin taught and bleached from low-pressure desiccation, empty eye sockets staring blankly forward, mouth frozen in fear and anguish, still gasping for that one last breath and wracked with the terror of the realization that it would never come.

This corpse, though, was far different than any that Sjdath had ever found before. It resembled no space-faring species she had ever seen. As far as she could tell, it was small, standing barely a meter high, and apparently a quadruped, with feet tipped in hooves. In life, it had likely been brightly colored, with a coat of body fur beneath a form-fitting uniform as well as a fluffy tail and head-hair like the humans had.

“Sweet Cthulu,” said Si’y, reaching out and poking it with one of his tentacles. “What is it?”

“Dead.”

“This one notes that such a description is obvious. Perhaps…a small elcor?”

“On a ship this small? Impossible.” Sjdath checked her omnitool. “That, and we would see a gravity system.”

“The power here is failed. The gravity system is not currently active.”

“No. Not inactive. There isn’t one.”

“Such an assertion is illogical, and even nonsensical.”

“These readings don’t lie,” said Sjdath, pointing to her hologram interface. “There is no gravity system here, at least not any kind I can detect. And…” She reached out and grabbed Si’y’s tentacle before he could return his pistol to its holster. “What is THAT?”

“This?” said Si’y, pulling his tentacle away from her and turning the weapon over. “It acquired this one from an dealer of antiquities at the last waystation. The weapon is of human design and called a ‘revolver’?”

“A what?”

“A revolver. It uses a mechanical cylinder to position cartridges containing self-contained explosive to fire heavy lead projectiles.”

“Lead? But the mass effect field- -”

“It uses no such field. It is hideous in appearance, but brutal in effectiveness- -truly, a fine example of the very pathos of human engineering, a representation of the beauty of action, a- -”

Sdjath grabbed him by his body and slammed him into the hull of the ship once again with enough force to make his tentacles twitch.

“It is a RELIC,” she snarled. “How dare you bring such a thing on a mission without my approval? I should sever your limbs and consume them with vinegar for this!” Sdjath released Si’y and allowed him to right himself. She growled and shoved the floating quadruped out of her way harshly. Of course she was not going to actually eat Si’y; hanar contained a toxin so powerful that it could sicken even her. “Use a proper weapon,” she growled.

“This one apologizes,” said Si’y, switching to a shotgun. “Also, the use of antique human firearms is greatly detracted from by the lack of report in an airless environment.”

“Hey!” said Sdjath, forcing open a door. “In here!”

Si’y drifted back toward her, directing his shotgun light as she forced the door. He then shined his light into what appeared to have once been the ship’s bridge.

The design was a kind of modified amphitheater design intended to seat several individuals. Those individuals had never had a chance to leave their seats. They were still in them, their bodies dried and eyeless, staring blankly at a large clear window that made up most of the front of the room.

Si’y flipped on his body light and looked around the room, his optics widening to focus on the dead creatures before them.

“Armchair, are you getting this?” he said in disbelief.

“Affirmative,” said the perpetually amused voice on the other line. “We have cross referenced this ship’s architecture as well as the anatomy of its occupants against all known styles of vessel and all known spacefaring races, respectively.”

There was a long pause.

“And?”

“Oh. And they match nothing that we are aware of.”

“I think I found what took them out,” said Sjdath, running her claw over a large hole in one of the walls.

“A meteor strike, perhaps?” suggested Si’y.

“Maybe…but this looks more like a mass-projectile strike.”

“Implying that they were attacked?”

“I have detected no other vessels or eezio drive signatures in this region,” suggested Armchair.

“There doesn’t have to be,” said Sjdath. “Back in the War, not every mass shell managed to hit a Reaper.”

“Could one really have gotten out to this distance?”

“They don’t stop, turn, or slow down until they hit something. After seventeen years, who knows how long they could have gone.” She turned back to the creatures. “These fools must have had no idea of what hit them. Explosive decompression. Nearly instant death. Weaklings.”

“Not all individuals can persist in space with merely a respirator mask and no pressure suit.”

Sjdath shrugged. “Being vorcha has its advantages.”

“That is correct. Being attractive is not one of them, however.”

“Oh! Burn!” cried Armchair.

“You think if I was some bikini asari that I would be doing this? Like the ones you spend all your wages on, perhaps?”

“That- -that is an unfair and unfounded accusation!” cried Si’y, suddenly. He shook slightly. “Also, please refrain from implying that you would ever wear a bikini. It makes this one’s food-containment bladder quiver, and not in a pleasant way.”

“You know you would want to see it.”

“This one would prefer to see Doctor Fenhock in such a garment before it saw Captain Sjdath in one. With all due respect, of course.”

Sjdath released a hissing sound that was her species’ equivalent of laugher and adjusted her valves again. She opened her omnitool and began to scan one of the panels that a space-frozen body with puffy, feathery wings was slumped over.

“Is it possible to restore operation to the computer system?” asked Si’y, getting back to business.

“It’s…it’s not a computer,” said Sjdath in disbelief.

“Is perhaps the omnitool functioning poorly?”

“No. No…I just have no idea what this place even is.”

“This one fails to understand…”

Sjdath turned herself around in space, facing the optics system of the heavily armed and armored hanar. “Noe of this makes sense. These controls, they are not controls. No computer, no interface. No gravity system, nothing. This vessel would never have flown. Armchair, can you confirm?”

“Yes,” said Armchair. Outside, his lights shifted, and the thick glass window was illuminated with brilliant white light that cast harsh shadows over the quadruped bodies. “No known technology is detected, either by our own sensory array or from either of your feeds.”

“Then may Dagon have mercy on this crew’s souls,” said Si’y, turning to Sjdath. “If we cannot get fuel, we might not- -”

“No,” said Sjdath harshly. “This vessel is lightyears from anything, there is no way it got out this far on its own! It has to have a mass drive!”

“We am not detecting any known kind of mass device,” said Armchair. “However…”

“What however?”

“A mass effect field is apparent in the rear-central section of the vessel. The readings indicate a high concentration of active element zero, and a possible engine.”

“I’m getting it to,” said Sjdath, recalibrating her omnitool. “Hanar! Do your job and take point!”

The derelict was not especially large, but it was also not especially small either. It took several minutes for Si’y and Sjdath to reach the engine room, and longer for Sjdath to cut her way through the reinforced doors that protected the core.

The doors, apparently, had done little to preserve the beings inside. Several engineers now floated throughout the large engine room, all deceased. One still clung to the controls, his arms wrapped around his post as if he somehow expected to be able to do anything useful as a freeze-dried corpse.

The engine room itself was roughly what Sjdath had come to expect. In almost all cases, engine rooms involved a large, open space with some sort of machine in the center. That machine was usually the mass engine, the element zero core that allowed a ship to function.
` In this case, though, the room was strange. The “machine” did not vibrate and hum as it should have, and there was no large, black core in the center. Instead, there was a large cylinder linked to numerous cables and conduits that seemed to feed the rest of the ship. Based on the readings that Sjdath had been accumulating and processing with Armchair’s assistance, those conduits seemed to somehow operate a distributed system within the ship. Everything that it held lead back to the core, leading Sjdath to believe that it was far more than an ordinary engine.

“These are tanks,” said Si’y, still holding several weapons but gesturing with a free tentacle toward a large system connected to the central cylinder. “Perhaps this is a coolant system.”

“No, no,” muttered Sjdath. “That…that just doesn’t make sense. These readings, they just don’t make any SENSE.” She pushed off from the ground and floated to the controls that the engineer was still clinging to and kicked him away. Unlike the controls on the bridge, these seemed to be mechanical in nature. “I am detecting element zero, but not nearly enough to make a core. That and…”

“And what?”

Sjdath did not answer, knowing that she would thoroughly discredit herself if she were to say what she were thinking.

“This looks like a shroud control,” she said instead. “I am going to open it. It should expose the central nexus of the core, so that we can know what we are dealing with.”

Before Si’y could protest, Sjdath pulled the mechanical system, feeling the gears and cogs clicking. Around her, system suddenly hummed to life, projecting flat images of pale blue light.

The central cylinder reacted, and its metal housing began to twist, unscrewing its halves as it started to separate. Then it pulled apart. A pale yellow light flooded the room, and Sjdath felt reached up for her valves.

“By the Enkindlers,” whispered Si’y.

Inside, there was no core. Instead, there was a large transparent inner cylinder filled with fluid, and floating in that fluid, its body attached to hundreds of cables and machines that grafted it into the systems of the ship itself, was a suspended, living version of the quadrupeds that populated the ship: the only survivor.

Chapter 6: Space Ponies

“Aria T’Loak?” said Scootaloo, stepping down a set of small stairs.

The platform was nearly vacant, save for a blue woman- -who Scootaloo assumed to be Aria- -and a well-dressed four-eyed man. Scootaloo saw Aria’s brow furrow, and she handed a datapad back to the four-eyed man before turning.

“Whoever you are, now is NOT a…” she paused when she looked down at the pair of visitors. “Great,” she said, sighing. “More ponies.”

“More?” asked Lyra, stepping past Scootaloo.

“Wow. And I thought Sjdath was ugly. I mean, how can a blue, talking unicorn be THAT ugly?”

“I am green,” hissed Lyra, coldly.

“Clearly. I haven’t been having a good day today.” She leaned forward. “The only reason you two aren’t red smears- -assuming you bleed red, I don’t actually know- -is because one of you is adorable. So I’m going to be nice. LEAVE. NOW.”

“You are the governor here, I presume?”

“Governor?” Aria laughed. “No, not quite. This space station, you see, is MINE. I own it. Through my own blood, sweat and tears…but a lot more of other people’s blood and tears, really.”

“Then you are who I need to talk to. I am Captain Scootaloo of the Royal Equestrian Navy, and this is my associate Lyra Heartstrings.”

Aria looked down at Scootaloo, and the pony began to feel herself sweat. This blue-person was not like the other blue-person they had run into before. Aria was far more threatening, but Scootaloo was not sure why. She was just harder- -like how Lyra was far more threatening than a pony like Carrot Top or Muffins could ever be.

“I’m sorry,” said Aria. “How am I supposed to take that seriously? ‘Scootaloo’? I mean, come on…and just how young are you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Scootaloo. “What matters is that I am an officer of the Royal government, and I was told that you could help us.”

“Told by whom?”

“Her,” said Lyra, pointing behind her. Scootaloo turned, and to her surprise, she saw the blue girl that they had met earlier. She was far back from them, leaning against a support post and pretending to look into a club nonchalantly.

“How did- -you knew she was there, didn’t you?”

“I did,” said Lyra. “She’s not exactly stealthy.”

“Next time, TELL ME!”

Aria looked up. “Oh,” she said. “I know her. That’s Fenok’s girl.”

“Wait…you know her?”

Aria smiled. “Yes. She’s grown. Not much, but a little.” She leaned back. “Her mother and I were…friends. I was even at Fenok’s wedding. It’s somewhat rare to find a pacifist krogan…and weirder that he ended up with Alaelia. Well, I suppose I do have something to look forward to.”

“What?”

“Fenok always sends me chocolates when I’m in port. He knows exactly what flavor I like, too.” She shrugged. “It’s really, really sappy, but it makes me happy.” She stood up. “Hold on a second.” She raised one hand and flicked it forward. A powerful sphere of blue energy shot outward, curving through the air and slamming into the pillar inches from the girl’s head.

The girl looked wide-eyed at the hole next to her, and then at Aria.

“Go home, Zedok,” called Aria, pointing.

“Zedok?” said Lyra as the girl turned and ran. “What an unfortunate name.”

“Says a one-eyed horse working for a captain named…ahem… ‘Scootaloo’.” Aria sat back down. “Well, my day has improved slightly. So talk.”

“You said there was another pony,” said Scootaloo. “Can you describe her?”

“Pale purple. Violet and blue hair. Horn sticking out of her forehead, like that one. Lots of metal.”

“Metal?”

“On her back, in her head. Really ruined the aesthetic.”

Scootaloo and Lyra looked at each other wide-eyed for a moment

“Do you know where she went?” asked Lyra.

“Yes,” said Aria.

There was a long pause. “And…?”

“And you actually expect me to tell you?”

“You blue primitive,” snorted Lyra, stepping forward and charging her horn. “I don’t have time for this!”

The four-eyed man beside Aria immediately drew a weapon and pointed it back at Lyra.

“Wait! Lyra, stop!” cried Scootaloo.

“She’s withholding information! I should- -”

“Lower your magic! That’s an ORDER!”

Lyra looked down at Scootaloo angrily, but eventually stepped back. Scootaloo looked up at Aria, “Madame T’Loak- -”

“No.”

“But we need- -”

Aria raised a hand, silencing Scootaloo. “You walk in here like you own the place, flash credentials that frankly sound more made-up than anything else, and then threaten me and expect me to just GIVE you information? I should have you butchered and served to me on a fine platter. And don’t think I won’t. I’ve done it before.”

“We are investigating the loss of an exploratory ship in this area,” said Scootaloo, quickly. “It went down with all hoofs, but by the time we got to it, it’s engine, weapons, and much of its metal had been removed.”

“As well as the Core,” said Lyra, softly. Scootaloo nodded.

“And?”

“And…um…well, we tracked the thieves here. We assumed that you might know where we might find them.”

“So I’m supposed to be omnipotent? Hundreds of ships come into Omega each day. They bring stuff in, they take stuff out, and I don’t ask questions as long as I get my cut of the deal. Surely you can’t expect me to keep track of everything?”

“Then find out,” said Lyra.

“Vashiel,” said Aria, looking up at her assistant. “Did that horse just give ME an order?”

“Our vessel has a full magical cannon unlike anything that you primitives have ever seen,” said Lyra. “And we would not hesitate to knock this facility out of orbit.”

“So you have a ship?”

“Yes, we do.”

“Well I have sixty eight. All ready to…well…I suppose I would let them choose what they do. Rip your tiny ship to pieces and sell it for scrap, or board it…and then board you.”

“Go ahead and try. I’ll cut their hands of and wear them like a necklace.”

“No, you won’t,” said Scootaloo. She actually reared up and pushed Lyra back. “Now I’m starting to see why they stuck you on a deep space mission! I mean, come ON! She’s the ruler here, you’re going to talk to her like THAT? You’re going to put my entire crew in danger?!” Scootaloo turned around, looking up at Aria. “Madame T’Loak, please forgive me and my associate.” Scootaloo bowed. Lyra did not. “Lyra!” hissed Scootaloo. “Bow to her!”

“I bow to no mare.”

“It’s just that that ship is really, really valuable,” said Scootaloo. “And I’m sure the Equestrian navy will pay handsomely for its return.”

“Payment is something I can understand.” Aria leaned forward. “But I just can’t help you. I don’t know what ship your pony friend is on right now, and I don’t know of any ships with weird alien scrap. Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry to have bothered you,” said Scootaloo. “But if you find anything out, please let us know.”

“Bye,” said Aria, waving, indicating that they were supposed to leave.

As Lyra and Scootaloo turned slowly and walked away, the baterian leaned closer to Aria. When they were out of earshot, he spoke.

“Mistress,” he said. “I understand that you made a deal with the vorcha Sjdath, but would it not be more profitable to…renegotiate that offer, with these two? If that ship is as important as they say, you could earn considerably more than what it would ever receive as scrap.”

“Yeah, probably,” said Aria.

“Then why not do it?”

“Are you really that thick?”

“Mistress?”

“What have those two ever done for me? Do you really think I’m just going to trust any two tiny horses that walk into my sitting room? I don’t even trust you, Vashiel.”

“I as- -assure you, Mistress, I would never do anything against your will!”

“Of course not. Because I would castrate you, and then force you to choke on your own tiny, tiny genitals. But appearances to the contrary, I do trust Jack. And I still have a SMALL amount of faith in Sjdath. That…” she leaned back. “And the fact that I like to keep my word when I can. When your word is law, reputation is more critical than you could ever imagine.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Glad we understand.” Aria plucked the pad out of the baterian’s hand and went back to reviewing shipping manifests. “Now, go away. Send Jenny to me, and have her bring a glass…no, a bottle of Turian brandy…and have my chocolates delivered as SOON as they get here. Today has been…strange.”

“Yes, Mistress,” said the baterian, backing away quickly.

Likewise, when Scootaloo believed herself to be out of earshot from Aria, she turned to Lyra.

“Are you INSANE?!” she cried.

“That depends. Do you have a copy of my psychological evaluations? Because there’s a reason I’m out here.”

“You just walk in there and- -and- -why do I even bring you on these missions? Why? WHY?”

“Because we got what we wanted.”

“No! We almost caused an intergalactic incident, and I was almost the youngest naval captain in all of history to die in combat! I mean, did you see her? She had MAGIC!”

“And so do I.”

“You- -ohhh,” Scootaloo put her hoof against her forehead. “This is what I get for working with a unicorn. Arrogant, overconfident IDIOTS. I should have brought Muffins. You do realize that our ship has a ball turret and a forward cannon that could barely even take the paint off this place, let alone destroy it, right?”

“So I bluffed,” said Lyra, shrugging. She looked down at Scootaloo. “Don’t act so innocent. Do you really think the Equestrian government would actually give her a reward for that ship?”

“I- -um- -well- -”

“You assumed that once we have the components, we would just teleport back to Equestrian space and never have to see her again?”

“N- -no, I- -”

“It’s okay. That’s what I was assuming.”

Scootaloo sighed. “But it didn’t even help. We’re no closer to finding out what ship the Core is on.”

“Of course we are. Don’t you listen?”

“No.” Scootaloo paused. “Oh wait…”

“She said that she saw another pony, one with metal on her back. And unless you were incompetent enough to let Trixie wander around this pit, that can only mean one thing.”

“That she saw the Core.”

“Somepony got it out. And without killing it, somehow.”

“So, what? You want to ask these aliens if they’ve seen a pony?”

“No need to waste the time. If the core is ambulatory, it is conscious. Which means we can detect it.”

Scootaloo’s eyes widened. “If we scan all outgoing ships…unless you can find it here.”

Lyra shook her head. “I’m not like them. I can…feel it. That it was here, that it might be here somewhere…but there’s too much interference for me. It takes a Core to find a Core. Ours may be vastly inferior to most, but it should still work.”

“She.”

“Excuse me?”

“Trixie is a ‘she’. Not an it.”

“It’s a Core. They don’t have gender.”

“I’ve checked. She is a she.”

“Eew.” Lyra shivered slightly. “I’d rather not think about that. She’s just equiptment, Scootaloo. Now come on, for all we know, EQX is flying away right now. Let’s find Fluttershy and get out of this dump.”

“Where is Fluttershy, anyway?” asked Scootaloo.

Not far away, at the edge of a dark and dirty alley, a group of baterians gathered around Fluttershy.

“Come on!” said one of them, leaning on his nervous-looking friend. “Put it in her mouth! You know she wants it!”

“I don’t know,” said the friend in response, his two main eyes flitting around at the others. “What if…what if she bites down?”

“Trust me,” said the volus proprietor of the impromptu event, counting the credits that it had eraned him on his omnitool. “She won’t.”

“O…okay,” said the baterian. Shaking, he reached down and unzipped a flap on his trousers.

“What is that?” laughed his friend. “That’s- -that’s the littlest meat I’ve ever seen!”

“No it isn’t!”

“Believe me,” said the volus. “I am Vol-clan, and- -SHHLLLK- -even I’ve never seen meat that small.”

“Well, you all can have a poke in the eye,” said the baterian.

He took a deep breath, and then held out his hand, the tiny cube of ham suspended between his shaking fingers. He held his breath as the varren pup below him looked up with its wide, fish-like blue eye. It then promptly jumped up, grabbing the meat out of his grasp with its long tongue. It snapped the ham into its mouth, and then sat down, wagging its tail at attention.

The baterian looked at his fingers, and then down at the varren in awe. The others, all of whom had been holding their breath, did the same. Then they started cheering and clapping.

“See?” said Fluttershy, patting the spines on the dog-like creature’s back. “Training is easy with a little positive reinforcement.”

“And I always thought you had to beat them to get them in line! That krogan dealer totally lied to me!”

“Oh, no,” said Fluttershy, signaling for the varren to return to its owner’s side. “Negative reinforcement will only make them act out. They just need a little love.”

“How do you know so much about varren?” asked a quarrian who had joined the group.

“Oh, well, I used to raise skags back home. They’re not that much different. Except the ones that shoot acid.” Fluttershy sighed. “There is just nothing like riding your favorite skag on edge of the Tartaran blood-sea on a cold night.”

“I can understand,” said the volus, moving funds in his omnitool. “I grew up on an island in the Sea of Plenty on Irune. It was, indeed beautiful- -SHHLLLK- -especially during the spring storms when it would rain ammonia. Oh, how I- -SHHLLLK- -miss the smell.”

“Your planet has an ammonia atmosphere?” said Fluttershy. “Your windows must be so clean!” She leaned in closer to him. “I’d just love to see it someday…and maybe see you out of that suit. Are your people hairy? Because I imagine you like some kind of rotund rodent.”

One of the baterians leaning against a wall sighed loudly, fighting back tears from all four of his eyes.

“Basheen,” said Fluttershy. “What’s wrong?”

“I used to go to the beach with…with my wife…”

“Oh, Basheen. What happened?”

“She…she left me.” He burst into tears. “I never treated her right! The last thing- -the last thing I said to her- -I yelled at her! I didn’t- -I didn’t even- -mean it! I miss her- -so- -much!”

“Oh, there, there,” said Fluttershy. “You clearly love her dearly. You just need to reach out to her and try to apologize.”

“But what if- -she doesn’t love me anymore?”

“Then at least you still have all these friend to help you through it.”

The baterian began weeping and wrapped Fluttershy in a tight hug.

“Hey!” said the volus. “Hugging the pony is not included in the varren-training fee! It costs extra!”

“At least you still have a wife,” said a female baterian, putting her hand on the male’s shoulder. “My whole family was taken by the Reapers. Trust me. Do everything you can to get her back, because at least you can.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” gasped Fluttershy. “Do you need a hug too?”

“N- -no!” said the female baterian, defensively. Then, more quietly. “Yes.”

The first baterian released Fluttershy, and she hugged the female.

“My planet is ruled by robots,” said the quarrian in the group. “Can I get a hug too?”

“Wait your turn,” snapped the female baterian.

“Fluttershy!” cried a voice. The crowd parted, and Lyra stepped through. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Giving my new friends some advice on training their adorable little doggies,” said Fluttershy, lifting a nearby varren into a hug- -and causing Lyra to take several steps back upon seeing the snarling, drooling creature. “This one is mine. I named him Baron.”

“‘Mine’?”

“He’s just a little runt, and his mother abandoned him, so I figured- -”

“Please tell me you’re not going to bring that- -that thing on the ship?”

“It kind of is my job.”

“Do you give hugs to?” asked one of the baterians to Lyra. Lyra glared at him, and then grabbed one of his legs in her magic and tipped him over.

“Lyra!” cried Fluttershy. “That was just mean!” She rushed over to the baterian. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. But that was really rude. What did I ever do to you?”

“You existed, primitive.” She turned back to Fluttershy. “Come on. The captain is waiting.”

“Oh.” Fluttershy turned back to the group. “Sorry. I have to go.”

The entire crowd groaned in unison.

“It’s okay. When I come back, I’ll be sure to visit you all!”

She waved as Lyra forced her away from the crowd to where Scootaloo was waiting.

“I can’t believe you,” said Lyra. “Conversing with aliens.”

“They’re actually really nice. The baterians, well, they can seem just a little bit scary at first, but they’re really just frustrated. Did you know that they are covered in a fine fuzz?”

“You mean like we are?” said Scootaloo, joining them.”

“Well, no,” said Fluttershy. “Finer, but not as soft.”

“Not as soft as you, you mean,” muttered Lyra.

“I am pretty soft.”

Scootaloo and Lyra started walking, with Fluttershy flapping slowly overhead while holding her varren, Baron. Seeing three small, colorful horses had already attracted the attention of many of the passerbys- -but seeing one flying drew even more attention.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” asked Fluttershy from above.

“Not yet, but we’re close. We just need to- -”

Before Scootaloo could finish, a krogan was thrown through the window of a bar, nearly flattening Scootaloo in the process.

“Oh, crap,” he said, rubbing the back of his head.

“YOU’RE NOT GETTING AWAY THAT EASY!” screamed a familiar voice.

Just as the krogan was beginning to stand, a mass of gray feathers darted from the inside of the bar through the broken window, swarming him.

“Ack!” he cried, weathering repeated hoof strikes against his face and torso. “Get it- -get it off of me! Oh shi- -it’s BITING ME!”

Muffins released him and continued her relentless but not particularly effective beating. “You think it’s okay to just TOUCH a girl’s muffin like that! Do you? DO YOU!”

“Get off me you little bi- -”

“I will kill you, and murder YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY! The streets will run red with the blood of MUFFIN THEIVES!”

“Muffins!” cried Scootaloo.

“That’s it,” said the krogan, drawing an exorbinantly large gun from his belt. “I’m going to- -” His body jerked, and he suddenly went still. He looked down at the hole in his right upper chest, and then down at Lyra, who’s horn was still charged with orange light. Muffins stopped attacking, and the krogan fell to his knees and then forward.

“Lyra!” cried Scootaloo.

“I don’t have time for this,” said Lyra, stepping forward toward the wounded but not dead krogan. She prepared for a second strike into the krogan’s lowered head. Before she could fire, though, the krogran drew a blade and impaled Lyra through her side.

Lyra looked down at where the blade had penetrated her armor, and then at the other side where the tip was emerging. She then looked at the krogan. “Was that supposed to hurt?”

“Kind of, yeah.”

“This won’t.” Lyra charged her horn.

“NO!” cried Fluttershy, throwing herself in front of the krogan. “You can’t!”

“One magic bolt to the head should be more than adequate.”

“That’s not what I mean! Don’t you know that krogan are an endangered species?”

“Fluttershy, he tried to stab Lyra,” said Scootaloo. “Actually…” she lifted her hoof and poked the sharp point of the blade that was emerging from Lyra’s side. “He kind of did. How are you not, you know, dead?”

“Reasons,” said Lyra curtly.

“He was just scared and lashing out!”

“Um, no,” said the krogan. “I really was trying to kill her.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be bleeding out or something?” snapped Lyra.

“No. You only hit one of my hearts. Hurts like the dickens, though.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Fluttershy, hugging the krogan’s massive head. “It’ll be okay.”

“Your hair smells nice.”

“Aww, thank you!”

“He’s a muffin theif!” cried Muffins, one of her eyes focused on Scootaloo and the other apparently on the ceiling. “BURN HIM AT THE STEAK!”

“You mean ‘stake’,” corrected Lyra.

“Oh,” said Muffins. She frowned. “But that doesn’t make any sense…”

“Muffins!” cried Scootaloo. “What are you even doing here? Why aren’t you, you know, where you can’t fight giant…frog…lizard…things.”

“Krogan,” said the krogan.

“Well, then, either bag my groceries or SHUT IT.” Scootaloo turned back to Muffins. “Well?”

“Well, um…Carrot and I figured that while we were docked, we should try to get some supplies, so…”

“Wait,” said Scootaloo. “Carrot is here too?”

“Yo,” said Carrot Top, stepping out of the broken window. Upon seeing her, Scootaloo, Fluttershy, Lyra, and the krogan all gawked. Like them, she was wearing her planetary landing uniform- -but unlike them, she was not wearing all of it. Rather, she was wearing almost none of it. The only parts she had retained were the undergarments, which consisted of socks and the standard-issue panties.

“Carrot!” sputtered Scootaloo, blushing and turning away. “What are you- -why are you- -where is your uniform?!”

“Oh, back there, somewhere. Probably.” She pointed back into the bar. “Hey, you’ll never guess what I learned! You see those poles on the stage there? If you dance on one, they give you MONEY!”

“You mean like they do back in Equestria?” suggested Lyra.

“You can do this in EQUESTRIA?” Carrot gaped. “Then why the hay am I in the agriculture ministry? I mean, I’ve made like…” She extended her left hoof and summoned an omnitool, causing the other ponies to jump back in fright. “Like, sixty thousand credits so far.”

“What is THAT?!” cried Scootaloo.

“What?” Carrot looked down. “Oh, yeah. The omintool. Neat, huh?”

“WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?”

Carrot paused for a second. “Hmm. You know, I’m not really sure. I’m pretty drunk right now, so, eh, could have been anywhere. But check this out!”

She flicked her hoof forward and the orange shape of the omnitool shifted, producing an immense fork. “I mean, look at this thing! Now I don’t have to eat out of a trough!”

“I will pay you five hundred credits to eat out of a trough,” said the krogan.

“See? I can get paid literally to EAT here! This place is great! Also, I may have bought a few dozen crates of alien stuff. You know, apparently those space carrots are pretty valuable, too.”

“Get. Your uniform. Back. ON,” demanded Scootaloo. “Does nopony accept my authority anymore? Did I authorize any of this?”

“Maybe?” suggested Muffins. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Hey, guys!” called Carrot Top back into the bar. “Which one of you has my pants?”

“Are you dressed like that?” asked the krogan to Fluttershy, who was still clutching his head. “You know, under that uniform?”

“Oh, no,” said Fluttershy. “I assure you, I am completely nude under this.”

“Why are you still here?” said Lyra. “Go away!”

“You go away.”

Scootaloo just could not take it anymore. She started walking back to the ship while the others argued. “Why, Rainbow Dash?” she asked herself. “Why did you do this to me?”

Chapter 22: Preparations, Part I

The green of the interface screen flickered and shifted. Then, for what seemed like the hundredth time, it froze, the image trapped as a semi-solid image between the prongs of its old-style projector assembly.

“Buck! Not again!” Rainbow Dash brought her hoof down on the frame, and the image flickered again and went out entirely. One of the several thick conduit cables leading to the bridge sparked, and, exasperated, Rainbow Dash shoved the interface podium away. “Why the hay is this not WORKING?”

A unicorn- -one of the comparatively few that served in the fleet- -looked up from her own panel, which was glowing pale gold with her own magic. “The architecture of the Harmony’s magic dispersion system isn’t like other ships. It’s designed to work universally within a field, not through hardwired connections.” Her own screen flickered, and she focused energy on her horn, allowing it to restart. “That, and it’s optimized for…oh wow…processing speed, not power consumption. We can barely keep the gravity on. Our Cores just weren’t designed for this application.”

“Well then retrofit them!” demanded Rainbow Dash, walking through the mess of spare parts and legacy equipment that had been pulled from various ships and assembled in the Harmony’s lower bridge. Cables running up from the landing bay were strewn all over the floor, connecting to various equipment that was being added and overseen by a rare combination of breeders and real ponies.

Rainbow Dash sighed, and took another long swallow of ryncol. She wiped her mouth and looked out the window at the black, empty space that they were adrift in. “At least tell me you have communication online.”

“We don’t have a tunnel channel, no. But the intership system seems to be working now. Most of the time.”

“At least it’s something.” Rainbow Dash stepped away from the group and over an open panel to the internal systems below. She put her hoof to her headpieces. “Engineering, what in Luna’s name is WRONG with you? Why aren’t my systems back on- -”

“You can shut you’re flat-toothed mouth before I come up there and choke you on your own down!” screamed a heavily accented voice through the headpiece. “I’m working as fast as I can!”

“Excuse me! Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”

“Yeah, I know you’re the Fleet Commander. Because I’m not an IDIOT like some PONIES who can’t tell the difference between a solid state crystal matrix distribution system and a switching distribution manifold valve- -yes I’m talking about you Broken Spanner, if you don’t like it come over here and bite me!”

“Um, who are you?” asked Rainbow Dash.

“Bengie of the Shallowhole clan. I’m the chief engineer of the RENS Rainbow Dash.”

“Wait,” said Rainbow Dash. “You’re the engineer on my sister’s ship?”

“No, I’m the engineer on some OTHER ship called Rainbow Dash. What do you think I am?”

“Were you even assigned to- -”

“No, of course not, but who else here has a degree in crystalline system mechanics? These ponies are complete MORONS. The only ones of any value are the breeders, the rest just get in my way. Personally, I don’t want to be blown to bits by one of them- -WHAT DID I JUST SAY? DON’T TOUCH THAT!- -by the dog god, MUFFINS was a better assistant than you fools!”

“I really don’t care right now,” said Rainbow Dash. “Can you fix it?”

“Can I fix it- -of course I can fix it!”

“How long to operation?”

Bengie growled over the radio. “That’s the problem. Twilight Sparkle took a tremendous amount of damage.”

“Is she going to survive?” said Rainbow Dash, bracing for the bad news.”

“Survive? Of course. She’s an alicorn, they don’t die. But it’s going to take time for her to recover consciousness.”

“How long?”

“That’s impossible to know, not with this equipment. It could be hours. It could be weeks.”

“We don’t have weeks.”

Bengie let out a low growl. “Well, her connection to the system isn’t damaged. I could boot her in manual.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning she’d be powering the ship, but not conscious. Like a regular Core. We’d have basic systems, but until she wakes back up, we wouldn’t be able to do much. Not without installing a manual control interface.”

“Can you do that?”

“Yeah, sure. But it would take me two days.”

“You have four hours.”

“Four- - ti nmad dog! Me and my big mouth…”

“Just do it. I don’t care if you have to defy the laws of physics, get it done! I have a war to win!”

The lights clicked, and the hallways of the Harmony were suddenly illuminated. Beneath her hooves, Scootaloo felt the hum of the ship’s systems as the manifold unseen things in the walls and floor began to activate and come to life.

“Hey, the lights are back on,” said Roseluck, smiling and relieved. “Now maybe I’ll stop running into things. And things will stop running into me. Right, Captain?”

“Huh?” said Scootaloo, looking up, barely registering that the light had changed. Roseluck was beside her, and a nameless breeder female walked in front of them, having been sent to take them to Rainbow Dash.

“Captain Scootaloo,” said the breeder, looking over her shoulder and appearing genuinely concerned. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“No. Everything’s fine,” lied Scootaloo.

“Hey, breeder,” said Roseluck. “Now that the lights are on…is that a bruise on your face? Did somepony hit you?”

The breeder turned her head slightly, trying to obscure the dark mark beneath her white fur. “A minor injury. I assure you, it will not affect my performance of my duties.”

Scootaloo knew better. She had virtually been raised by Rainbow Dash, and she knew how the older mare treated her breeders- -especially the females, and especially when she was drunk. It was yet another thing Scootaloo had tried to overlook in her idol’s personality.

“Hey, Captain,” said Roseluck, falling back from the breeder slightly. “Don’t worry. We’ll get your ship back, alright?”

“It’s not the ship I’m worried about,” snapped Scootaloo. “I don’t give a hoof about the ship! It’s just…it’s…”

“You didn’t get a chance to apologize to her.”

Scootaloo nodded. “After…after what I did. Now we’ll both have to live with that, and…I just don’t think I can, not like this. I’m a terrible pony.”

“Look,” said Roseluck, stopping and putting her cream-colored hoof on Scootaloo’s tiny shoulder. “If you’re trying to get me to defend or justify what you did, I’m not. It was wrong. But you know that. Captain....Scootaloo, it’s going to be okay. She’s going to be okay.”

“I wish I could believe you.”

The breeder Pegasus, realizing that her two followers had lagged, walked back to them. “Excuse me. I do not like to intrude, but the Fleet Commander did request your presence with the utmost urgency.”

“Of course she did,” said Scootaloo, falling in step with the albino white mare as Roseluck followed behind.

Scootaloo had never spent much time on the Harmony, so she was not familiar with the layout. When they finally reached the gap that led to the bridge, however, Scootaloo knew where she was. For a moment, she was rendered dizzy just by the sheer size. After spending six months of her life in a tiny ship, she was not used to large spaces- -and this space was large.

She looked up in awe at the glass panel that formed the front view, ceiling, and floors. To her surprise, she saw flashes of white light outside as ships arrived via teleport. Scootaloo had never seen such a mass mobilization outside of her training simulations.

As she watched, a multicore battlecruiser emerged for the top of the window, flying close overhead, dwarfing the Harmony as it passed. Scootaloo could feel the low feedback between the two ships’ shields as they passed each other and the battlecruiser joined the ever-growing formation outside.

“Scoots!” said Rainbow Dash, turning from proudly watching her more complete fleet assembling. She turned around and approached. As she did, she momentarily looked concerned. “Hey, Scoots, have you been crying?”

“No,” lied Scootaloo.

“She’s been going through a lot of stuff recently,” said Roseluck, stepping forward to meet Rainbow Dash. “But as your sister, I’m sure you know that.”

“Well EXCUSE me if I’ve been busy,” retorted Rainbow Dash. “In case you haven’t noticed, an alien just shot five holes in our Core and very nearly unwinged me!”

“You’re wing?” Scootaloo looked up at the appendage and noticed that Rainbow Dash’s blue wing was held close to her body and partially unpreened.

“Yeah,” said Rainbow Dash. “Apparently, the Core Starlight Glimmer conspired with the aliens to assassinate Twilight. They almost took me and Fluttershy down too.”

“I- -I didn’t know.”

“Of course not. Because I didn’t tell you. But I am now. It was clearly a blatant act of aggression against the Equestrian government. An act of war.”

“War?” said Roseluck. “Isn’t that a little excessive?”

“And just who are you?” asked Rainbow Dash, her eyes narrowing.

“Roseluck, helmsmare of the RENS Rainbow Dash.”

“Well, what are you doing here, then? Oh yeah. Because you lost your ship. I guess you’re out of a job for now, aren’t you?” Rainbow Dash smiled at Scootaloo. “Don’t worry, Scoots. It’s not like we lost anything valuable. We can get you a better ship. Keep an eye out for one you like while you’re on the bridge. I’m thinking maybe a frigate…but we can decide that later.” She glared at Roseluck. “You are dismissed. For now.”

Rainbow Dash started walking back to her original position and motioned for Scootaloo to follow. The structure of the “bridge” of the Harmony consisted of a large, extended balcony that sat above an empty area of the floor below. As Scootaloo approached the edge where Rainbow Dash was standing, though, she saw that it had been heavily modified. The balcony remained relatively clear, save for a few interfaces that had been recently installed. Below, though, the formerly clear space of the lower level had been replaced with rows of equipment. When Scootaloo finally reached the edge and looked down, she saw interfaces and holographic arrays formed into neat but uneven isles around a large central projector. They looked strange and forced, as though the room were attempting to reject the construction of a standard amphitheater bridge.

Down below, breeders were moving chairs into location. Some were already sitting, engaged in various tasks on violet holographic screens. Far on one end, Scootaloo could see the outline of a small diamond dog yelling loudly at a leafy green Pegasus.

“She really is a tribute to her ponies,” said Rainbow Dash. “Or doggies, I guess. I wish I had ten of her. Or would, apart from the smell.”

“What are you doing?” Scootaloo already knew the answer on some level, but she wanted to hear her sister say it if it was true.

“I’m finally taking command,” said Rainbow Dash, proudly.

“Command? Where’s Twilight?”

“The same place she has been for the last fourteen years.”

“You know what I mean.”

“She’s finally doing her job correctly.”

Scootaloo frowned. “Cryptic responses aren’t really your thing, Rainbow Dash. You’re trying to build an interface.”

“I’m SUCCEEDING in building an interface.”

“Does Twilight know what you’re doing?”

“Twilight is currently unconscious. And she will be for some time. Remember? The aliens sabotaged us.”

“But if she’s unconscious, shouldn’t we wait for her to be conscious again? I don’t think she would approve- -”

“What Twilight would or wouldn’t approve of doesn’t matter,” snapped Rainbow Dash. “It never should have. This is the fastest ship in Equestria. It should have been mine from the start.”

“But she’s your friend!”

“She’s a piece of the ship. It was kind of cool that she could talk, but she should never have been put in direct control. I mean, you can see how stupid that is, right?”

“Um…”

“Exactly. The pony flagship should be operated by a PONY, not a Core.” Rainbow Dash laughed softly. “Actually, I should thank those aliens. They finally managed to get everything set back to its natural order.”
Scootaloo looked down at the ponies below, and then up at the assembling fleet outside. There must have been at least fifty ships so far. She felt like crying, and found that she could not look at her sister. “What are you doing, Rainbow Dash?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m preparing for war.”

“War? You can’t be serious.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? The aliens just attempted to sabotage my ship. That’s a direct attack on Equestria. They are clearly hostile.”

“But I’ve met them, they’re not- -”

“Fluttershy said the same thing. But I think I know when an alien race is hostile, Scoots. I am the Fleet Commander, after all.”

“So you’re just going to attack them?”

“Check this out,” said Rainbow Dash, smiling. She tapped on one of her interfaces, and the major holographic projector in the center of the floor hummed to life. A thirty-foot wide sphere formed in the center of the room and resolved into a star map.

“Breeder?” said Rainbow Dash.

The female breeder who had led Scootaloo in nodded and opened a screen. She entered some data, and the central hologram shifted, magnifying onto a single object that rapidly resolved into an image of an immense space station consisting of a ring with five long, parallel pylons extending from one side.

“Wow,” said Scootaloo, not believing the scale indicators. “What is that thing?”

“It’s where the EQX went. As near as any of us can figure, it’s a huge hub. Maybe a battlestation. Whatever it is, it seems to be the center of a lot of traffic. So we’re going to destroy it.”

“Destroy it?!”

“Of course. It and every ship that gets in our way. Then I’ll split the fleet and take it to their homeworlds. Some of them might understand the genetic superiority of ponies and pledge allegiance to Equestria like the diamond dogs did. But…” Rainbow Dash shrugged. “I really hope they don’t. I really want to see what the Orbital Friendship Cannon does to a planet.”

“But what if they’re peaceful- -”

“Peaceful?! One of them attacked me and shot Twilight! If Fluttershy hadn’t been there- -”

“Wait, YOU had to get saved by Fluttershy?”

“Uh- -well- -um- -that doesn’t matter! What matters is that that alien was a representative of them all. What was she called?”

“A human,” noted the breeder mare.

“Remind me to not let the humans surrender. They all need to die now.”

“Rainbow!”

“What, it’s not like they’re ponies! And they just literally attacked a goddess! And stole a piece of top-secret technology that in the wrong hooves…” Rainbow Dash sighed and tried to calm herself down. “You know what, I’m getting too invested in this. I need to keep a cool head for the upcoming battle.”

“Upcoming? How upcoming is upcoming?”

“As soon as your dog finishes installing the interface and my fleet finishes arriving. That’s why I brought you here, Scoots.” Rainbow Dash smiled lovingly. “I want you to be my second in command.”

“Me?” Scootaloo felt like she had just been hit in the head. She had been waiting to hear those words for so many years. In the present circumstances, though, they somehow felt more hollow than she had been expecting. “But I’m just a Captain- -and not even a very good one!”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Rainbow Dash. “You’re my sister. And I get to choose. You’re going to be Fleet Commander yourself one day, and this will look great on your record.” Rainbow Dash waved her hoof in front of her, as if gesturing toward a large marquee but actually gesturing toward space and to the ever-growing fleet. “Scootaloo, who stood beside the great Rainbow Dash during the conquest of the Milk-Path galaxy.” Rainbow Dash grimaced. “Hm. ‘Milk-Path’ is a terrible name. I’ll have to come up with a better one.”

“Rainbow, I- -”

“I knew I could count on you, squirt! I’m so excited! You’re going to be getting lessons from the very best. Commanding together is going to be so much fun!”

Scootaloo forced a smile. More than anything, she wanted to protest. To yell at Rainbow Dash as loud as she could that this was a mistake, a terrible idea, that she never wanted to command a fleet or even a ship. The thought of standing at Rainbow Dash’s side was too tempting, though. Scootaloo knew it was wrong, but in the presence of that beautiful rainbow-maned pony, there was no way she could refuse.

“Yeah,” said Scootaloo, on the urge of vomiting from the realization of what she was doing. “I’ll be glad to help.”