Mass Core 2: Crimson Horizon

There was a clink of metal as Zedok put down a bloody scalpel onto an aluminum tray and picked up a pair of fine pliers. She hesitated, and then leaned forward to Starlight.

“How is it now?” she said, adjusting her work slightly.

“Grainy,” said Starlight. “And I can’t see color.”

“Yeah,” said Zedok. “That’s just how it is. I can’t do anything about it.”

“You can’t? Is this…how you see the world?”

Zedok did not answer, but set down the pliers. She picked up a small handheld mirror and gave it to Starlight. Starlight took it in her magic and held in in front of her face.

The gray mechanical irises of her new eyes narrowed her pupils as she focused, and she felt as the robotic mechanisms inside them flicked them from side to side as she looked them over. The motion was much faster than the muscles that had once motivated them, and the machines had a physical sensation.

“I’m sorry,” said Zedok. “I did the best I could do, but…”

“It’s fine,” said Starlight, setting down the mirror near Zedok’s tools. Even though the mostly colorlessness of her vision, she could see the blood stains. In one small container, she saw the bloody remnants of her ruined original eyes staring back up at her. Starlight shivered. That was not a sight that anybody was ever meant to see.

“Hey,” said Starlight, “now that we both have artificial eyes, people are going to think we’re twins.”

Zedok smiled. “Twins? No, people are going to think you’re my mother. Because you’re old.”

Starlight chuckled. She actually was nearly ten years older than Zedok, but had never really thought about it that way.

“When we get back to our own galaxy, I can get you some colored irises like mine,” explained Zedok. “I think you would look good with a nice green…”

Across the room, there was a sound of a hoof knocking on the doorframe. Starlight’s eyes moved toward the gap with nauseating speed, and she felt them focus on Sunburst. Their eyes met, and she saw his widen.

“Sweet Cadence,” he said. “Starlight, your eyes…”

“Yeah,” said Starlight, averting them in shame. “Guess I shouldn’t have taken my immense beauty for granted, huh?”

“What- -no, Starlight, that’s not what I meant!” Sunburst trotted into the room and approached Starlight. He gently touched her chin, and she allowed her face to be directed toward him. “I didn’t mean that at all! It’s just…your eyes. I’m so sorry…”

“It’s not like I actually lost anything. It’s not like I need eyes for spaceflight. I have sensor arrays for that.”

“But…” Sunburst shook his head. “Did it hurt?”

“The neural connections were burnt,” said Zedok. “I had to completely reconfigure them. I’m pretty sure there was no pain.”

“No,” said Starlight. “There was.”

“There- -there was? Star, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why? It’s just pain. I’m used to it by now.”

Starlight’s eyes suddenly moved toward the door again, and Sunburst jerked back at the sight of her mechanical irises shifting around the lenses and semiconductors that now allowed her to see. That was what hurt most of all, that he was afraid of her now. It made Starlight want to cry, and she would have- -if she still had possessed tear ducts.

Acorss the room, Flurry Heart was poking her head past the edge. When she saw that Starlight was looking at her, she began to retreat slowly.

“Flurry Heart,” said Sunburst. “Come in here.”

Flurry Heart, despite outranking him, agreed. She slowly walked into the room, her head held high but her expression indicating anything but pride. The filly looked up at Starlight. “So you are not permanently blind. Good.” She turned to Sunburst. “I have reports to file. I will be leaving now.”

“No, you won’t.” Sunburst picked her up with his magic and turned her around to face Starlight. “Is that really all you have to say?”

Flurry Heart frowned. “What do you expect me to say? She entered the battle knowing the risks. And she is not even dead. Everything turned out acceptably.”

“Acceptably? Flurry Heart, she lost her eyes! And this isn’t some kind of collateral damage- -this is a direct result of YOUR failure.”

“Failure?” cried Flurry Heart. “I was only trying to protect the Imperium!”

“No, you were showing off. Your arrogance pulled me, Starlight, and yourself out of battle. I told you to retreat, to protect the planets. Do you know how many ponies we lost? Civilians. Not soldiers. Not warriors. The aliens took them. And without my support, we lost sixteen pilots. SIXTEEN. Ponies I trained, that I watched grow up. Our FRIENDS.”

“The loss was acceptable.”

The room fell silent. Zedok actively backed away from the unfolding argument. Starlight understood the feeling.

“Acceptable?” whispered Sunburst. He took a step forward and Flurry Heart took one back. Sunburst raised one of his hooves, and Flurry Heart suddenly coward from him.

“Sunburst!” said Starlight. “Don’t!”

Sunburst looked over his shoulder, and then lowered his shaking hoof. He turned back to Flurry Heart. “And what if Starlight hadn’t been there? I wouldn’t have been powerful enough to pull you out. What if we lost you? Would that loss be ‘acceptable’?”

“I am an alicorn. I am immortal.”

“No. Only your mother and the Two Sisters are truly immortal. If starlight had not pulled you out of that star, you would have died.” He paused. “Perhaps I was right. I should have made my case better. I should have been more insistent.”

“Insistent? What are you talking about?”

“That you should not be an active military unit. I tried to convince Princess Cadence. That I shouldn’t train you. I still accepted, though. And after your actions, I am considering ending my tenure as your teacher.”

Flurry Heart’s eyes widened, and Starlight saw the tears welling up in her eyes as she shifted to anger. “You- -you want them to seal me up in the Central Palace,” she said. “To isolate me! To lock me away!”

“That isn’t what I said.”

“No. It is EXACTLY what you said. And I say FINE. I’ll write my resignation letter.” She glared at Starlight. “Enjoy my replacement.”

Before anyone could say anything, Flurry Heart spread her oversized wings and flew out of the room.

“Sunburst,” said Starlight. “Don’t you think that was a little harsh?”

“No,” he said. “Not at all.”

“She was crying,” said Zedok. “Star, how old was that kid?”

“Not old enough for this,” said Sunburst.

“I should talk to her,” said Starlight, standing.

“What are you going to say?” asked Zedok.

“I don’t know. I don’t know how to deal with kids.” Starlight sighed. “I wish your father where here. He’d know what to say.” Starlight began to walk toward the door, and Sunburst followed her. “I’ll catch up with you later, Zedok.”

“Yeah,” said Zedok. “If those eyes give you any problems, find me.”

“I will.” Starlight exited the room and saw Jack leaning on the wall outside. She felt overjoyed to see her friend waiting for her- -until she saw the long hair and the ornate dress.

“Chrysalis,” said Starlight. “What do you want?”

“To suck the universe dry of its love, largely,” she sighed. “But what I want in this world no longer matters, does it? The Princess would like to see you.”

“Now?” said Starlight. “Why?”

“I don’t ask why. You should not either. Just come with me.”

Starlight looked to Sunburst, and he nodded.

Chrysalis stopped before she reached the door to the throne room. “This is as far as I go,” she said. “And as far as he goes.”

“Why?”

“There’s that asking things again. The Princess wants you. Not me. Not him.” She grinned, revealing the long fangs that she usually kept hidden. “Don’t worry. I’ll take excellent care of him.”

“It’s okay, Starlight,” said Sunburst. “I’ll be waiting right here for you. You can trust the Princess. Her heart may be cast of crystal, but it is still warm. She’s a good pony.”

“Yeah, right,” muttered Starlight.

Chrysalis pushed open the door, and Starlight stepped through. As it closed, Starlight looked back, and just before the door shut thought that she saw her own face staring back at her from beside Sunburst.

Starlight hoped that it was just her imagination and directed her attention toward the room before her. Unlike before, Cadence was no longer sitting high on her throne. Instead, she stood in the center of the floor beside her husband. He was dressed differently than before, and the high collar of his ornate robes mostly concealed an extensive bandage around his neck. He looked pale and broken.

They were not alone, though. Standing beside Shining armor was a translucent, partially abstract hologram of a violet colored alicorn.

“Hello, Starlight,” said Twilight. “It is good to see you again.”

“I can’t say the same,” said Starlight, darkly. She turned to address Cadence. “Whatever you’re planning, I don’t want to take part in it. Not with HER.”

“I see you’ve met,” said Cadence without even the slightest hint of emotion.

“Yes, we have,” said Starlight. “In the Serpent Nebula.”

“Starlight, you have to understand. I was not in command of myself- -A”

“Oh? Were you in command of yourself when you attempted to enslave me?”

Twilight did not seem to have an answer. Despite having only a partially rendered face, Starlight saw her expression change. Not into one of anger, though, as Starlight expected. She just looked ashamed.

“Twilight is my sister,” rasped Shining Armor. “She has a right to be here.”

“Don’t talk, Shining,” said Twilight. “You should be in bed, resting.”

“I’m fine. Besides. How could I rest? Several of my sons were critically injured or killed, and my wife assaulted. I nearly lost my daughter…”

“Flurry Heart? What- -what happened to Flurry Heart?”

“Fortunately, little,” said Cadence. “Thanks to the quick thinking and sacrifice made by Starlight Glimmer. For this,” she turned to Starlight, “I thank you, and I offer you my eternal gratitude.”

“I couldn’t just let her die,” said Starlight.

“Couldn’t you? The choice was yours alone, and your bravery continues to surprise me. Perhaps someday, you will rival Sunburst at my side. But that time is in the future. Now, I would like you to be a part of this conversation.”

“What conversation?”

“The attack,” said Twilight. “The forces of my newest priestess indicate that a hostile force used an Equestrian Core to conduct it.”

“No,” said Cadence, gently stroking Shining Armor’s mane. “There were no forces. It was her. The Core herself.”

“The Core?” said Twilight. “That’s impossible. They can’t- -”

“Move on their own?” said Starlight.

“She was not an ordinary Core,” said Cadence, shaking her head. “And not in an ordinary state. She is no longer a pony.” Cadence’s cold red eyes met Starlight’s. “I’m sure you felt it.”

Starlight nodded. “That feeling…like I was choking on its magic.”

“Whatever she has become, it is no longer entirely mortal. But the attack was not orchestrated by others. It was her, and her alone.”

“But the ships,” said Starlight.

“Unmared,” said Shining Armor. “Not even Cores. We assume she was flying them remotely.”

“But why?” said Twilight. “She could not seriously have thought she could conquer the Crystal Empire, not alone.”

“Why not?” said Starlight. “From what I hear, your society spent thousands of years just trying to breach the outer edge. And she made it all the way to the Imperium.”

“Conquest was not her goal, I’m afraid,” said Cadence. With her magic, she removed her crown. For the first time, Starlight noticed that the gemstone that was normally imbedded in its center was missing. “She was after something far more significant.”

“I don’t understand,” said Twilight.

“Neither do I,” said Starlight. “The crystal. What was it?”

“Crystal? What crystal? Starlight, the entire kingdom is crystal. I doubt one would be of any special significance.”

“Then you are woefully incorrect,” said Cadence.

“What was it?” repeated Starlight.

Cadence sighed. She almost seemed tired. “It was a device. An item called the Key of Korviliath.”

“A relic?” said Twilight. She seemed almost disappointed. “Why would she be interested in an artifact?”

Cadence paused for a long moment. “Twilight, Starlight. Are you aware of the legend of Starswirl the Bearded?”

“No,” said Starlight.

Twilight’s face seemed to light up. “Yes! Of course! He was the most brilliant mage and engineer in Equestrian history! His revolutionary ideas made modern faster-than-light space travel possible! Not to mention creating the ingenious methods for atmospheric containment within a- -”

“You mean he created Cores,” said Starlight, darkly. “The one who enslaved my people?”

Cadence nodded. “Yes…and no. He created the first of the Cores, but for it, he was haunted by the most profound of regrets for the remainder of his life.”

“What?” said Twilight. “No, that’s not right. I’ve studied every account of history. Starswirl was treated as a hero. He became the personal attendant of Celestia, opening up her role in Equestrian society. Nopony ever indicated that he felt any regret for revolutionizing and vastly improving Equestria.”

“But he did.”

“And how would you know?”

“Because I was there. Not just there. I was one of his closest friends.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “You- -you KNEW Starswirl the Bearded?”

Cadence nodded. “Yes. Five thousand years ago. When I was still mortal, and known as the mage Sombra.”

Now it was Shining Armor’s turn to look surprised. “You- -no. That can’t be right, Sombra was- -”

“He was me,” admitted Cadence. She looked sadly toward Shining Armor. “I’m sorry I did not tell you. I just thought- -”

He hugged her. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Cadence.”

“Shining…”

“And what, exactly, does this have to do with the Key?” asked Starlight. She was beginning to feel impatient.

Cadence released Shining Armor and continued her story. “Back then, Cores were not like they are today. No doubt their original ships have been destroyed to hide this fact. Then, they were volunteers. Mages and wizards of immense power. They were not trapped and sealed as they are now, but free commanders of their own vessels. Much as you are now, Starlight Glimmer.”

“But then why aren’t they like that now?”

“Because such a ship is almost impossible to operate. It requires a powerful, experienced user. A master sorcerer willing to undergo a dangerous and painful surgical conversion. Needless to say, others quickly found a way to undercut the monopoly of wizards on their ships. They found that faster, cheaper, better ships could be constructed by simply sealing an unconscious pony into the ship and draining their magic until death.

“And you must understand. Starswirl was brilliant. I idolized him. But he was not cold. Not a monster. His heart was kind. And his lifespan too long.”

“He lived long enough to see them make Cores like me…”

Cadence nodded. “And it destroyed him.”

“That…that’s terrible,” said Twilight. “Why…why would they do that?”

“Because they Equestrian,” said Cadence. “It is in their nature.”

“And Starswirl?” said Starlight.

Cadence paused. “What I tell you next, I did not witness with my own eyes. By this time, our relationship had decayed, and Celestia had banished me to what was then an empty galaxy. While I was studying the Crystal Matrix, my former friend grew despondent, depressed. They say that one day he simply left.”

“Left?” said Starlight. “Left to where?”

Cadence shook her head. “Nopony knows. He took his closest disciples and departed Equestria. Nobody knows where he went, or what he intended to accomplish. But I knew him. I knew him very, very well. Surely, he left to atone for his perceived crimes.”

“How?”

“I am not sure. But…I believe he may have been working on creating a system to replace Cores.”

“That might be true,” said Twilight. “At the end of his life, Starswirl was working on a number of projects that he left incomplete. Mysteriously incomplete, in fact. One was the procedure that made me an alicorn.”

“Yes,” said Cadence. “I believe he was working on a transportation device. One that would overcome both the difficulty and rarity of teleportation spells from fickle goddesses, and the suffering of Cores. And…I think he succeeded.”

“That technology would revolutionize Equestria,” said Twilight. “It would- -it would change everything. Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes,” said Cadence. “It happened almost three hundred years ago now. A pony simply appeared at the door to my inner sanctum. No warning, no one having seen him. As if he just appeared out of the mist. He approached me, and as he did, I recognized him. He was old. Impossibly old. There were so many wrinkles, I almost could not identify him, but when I saw his eyes...He was the youngest of Starswirl’s disciples, one that I had met in my mortal life. He was just a colt when I had seen him last.”

“But that would have been over five thousand years,” said Twilight. “No pony can live that long. Even the most powerful historical unicorns cannot exceed a thousand, maybe two.”

“Whatever magic prolonged his life, it departed him shortly after he arrived. But before he left me, he gave me the crystal. The Key of Korviliath. He told me to keep it safe at any cost, that it must never return to its creator. To Starswirl. And I have failed him. The Key is lost, and in the possession of a madmare.”

“It’s not your fault,” said Shining Armor. “If anything, it’s mine. I should have listened.”

“Whoever’s fault it is, it’s too late to change it now,” said Starlight. “Cadence, what does the Key do? What is her endgame?”

“I don’t know,” said Cadence, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I can only imagine that the Key is part of Starswirl’s device, but even what the device actually does…I’m afraid of these facts, I am not aware.”

“If it’s a key, it must open something.”

“But she’s already a Core,” said Twilight. “Why would she want to use an ancient transport system that, from what I can tell, didn’t even work? Unless…”

Twilight’s eyes widened as she suddenly understood what Starlight was already thinking.

“A teleportation system that can move any number of troops anywhere she needs to,” said Starlight. “Regardless of the anti-teleportation field around the Crystal Empire. Or Equestria.”

Cadence nodded. “That is why I asked you to come here, Twilight. I fear for your society. If Sunset Shimmer wishes to do you violence, there will be little to stop her.”

“I’m already changing course,” said Twilight. “I can’t know where she’s going to strike if at all, but I’m commanding the troops back to secure Equestria Prime.”

“That won’t be enough,” said Starlight. “She could strike anywhere in Equestria, not just your homeworld. We need to cut her off before she even gets the chance. At the source.”

“Unfortunately, that information is lost to us,” said Cadence. “I know that Starswirl departed Equestria’s home galaxy, but where he went, it is impossible to know.”

“Fuck,” said Starlight, surprising everyone in the room. “Then she’s already one step ahead, isn’t she? She seems to know where she’s going. There has to be a way to find this thing. Or her.”

“And would you help us in such an endeavor?” asked Cadence. “You have no stake in this.”

“No stake? Like hell I don’t have a stake. I already fought her once. Next time, I intend to win.”

“You would do that for us?” asked Twilight. “Really?”

“Why not? You clearly can’t do it on your own.”

“Right,” said Twilight. She turned to Cadence. “Cadence, I have to go. I’ll reinforce the defenses around Equestria Prime, and I’ll do what research I can to find out where Starswirl went in his self-imposed exile. But I can’t promise anything. If what you say is true…no. It is true. No doubt the old government rewrote the history in their favor. I can’t believe I fell for it…”

“It is not your fault, Twilight. You weren’t even born yet. I can have some of my own scribes search what records I have, but I likewise doubt they will find little. I have few books from that era in my library.”

Twilight nodded, and smiled. “Thank you, Cadence. And you too, Starlight.”

“Just to be clear, this doesn’t mean I like you,” said Starlight. “You stand for everything I hate. You do know that, right?”

“I know…”

The Twilight hologram faded and dissipated. As Cadence watched it leave, she smiled broadly.

“Well played,” she said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you? I’m not a fool. My sister-in-law is not either, but she is young and naïve. You have no real interest in stopping Sunset Shimmer.”

“Then what, pray tell, do I have an interest in?”

“Your own failure when faced by a being that can truly challenge a god? Or the sudden realization of your own weakness?” She looked directly into Starlight’ artificial eyes. “Or a desire for the technology that allows one of your kinds to fight on par with ME?” She turned back to her throne. “Don’t answer. If you answer that question, then you answer my first, concerning my offer. As I’m sure my High Exemplar has made clear. Do what you can. Use whatever resources you need. Make Sunset Shimmer suffer. And if it comes to the point you desire, so be it. Make your decision there. Just know the consequences.”

“I think you already know the answer I will choose.”

“Yes,” said Cadence, taking her seat on her throne. Shining Armor climbed with her, and lay down on the floor at her side. She stroked his head and horn. “The question is, do you?”

Once again, Lyra found herself in a hospital. They had become something that she had simply come to expect: the white light, the quick and hurried motion of nurses, the strange smell of disinfectant. It was the smell that had assaulted her so long ago, when she had first awoken after what she had assumed would be her death. When she had looked down to see that her body was forever lost.

This time, though, she was not ill. She was standing in the hallway, and slowly raised her hand to knock on the door before her. She almost did, closing her metal fingers into a fist and bringing them close to the opaque crystal. Instead, though, she drew her hand back.

Just as she started to turn away, a crystal nurse opened the door. Lyra saw the momentary fright in her eyes, but then saw them soften when the nurse realized that despite her mechanical anthro body, Lyra was still a true pony.

“Are you here to see Calcite?” she said.

“Y…yes,” said Lyra.

“Well, you missed visiting hours by a few minutes, but I think you can go in. I know how busy everyone here is, after the tragedy. I certainly know how busy we are here.”

She held the door open and gestured for Lyra to go in. Lyra was not sure if she wanted to, but still found herself entering anyway.

The room on the other side was not large, and was mostly dominated by a pony-sized bed in the center. Calcite was lying in it with his lower body covered by a sheet. When Lyra stepped in, he looked up at her, surprised.

“Lyra,” he said.

“Is it okay if I come in?”

“Of course! I think there’s a stool… somewhere…”

“I’ll just stand. Pony furniture is too small for me now.”

They both fell silent for what felt like an awkwardly long time.

“So,” said Lyra. “What’s your condition?”

“Compared to a lot of ponies in here? Not bad. Not bad at all. I had a pretty bad concussion, but even though my body is made of crystal, I’m hardly fragile.” He tapped on his head, and it make a clinking sound. “Plus, they say I have some pretty deep wounds in my legs. Shrapnel. Could have fooled me, though. I didn’t feel a thing.” He laughed at his own joke, but then trailed off and became more serious. “Of course, it was almost much worse. If you hadn’t been there.”

“Yeah. Well, I couldn’t just let you get crushed like that. Oh…” Lyra extended one of her hands, presenting a small box to Calcite. “Here. I got you something.”

Calcite’s eyes widened as he took the box. “No way…are those Gummy Sploofs?”

Lyra smiled. “They sure are. And they were NOT easy to find.”

“No way,” he said. “I didn’t know they still made these!” He looked up at Lyra. “As crystal ponies, we don’t need to eat. We normally feed on the energy of the Living Goddess. Back during the war, this was the only candy that the commissaries stocked.” He opened the box and popped one of the gooey candies in his mouth. He chewed it for a moment, and then grimaced and stuck out his tongue. “Sweet Cadence! They taste just as terrible as I remember!”

He laughed, and then Lyra found herself laughing too. This continued for so long that if anypony had been watching, they would have thought both the old soldiers crazy. Eventually, though, their laughter faded, and Calcite wiped an imaginary tear from his crystalline eye.

“Thank you,” he said. “And not just for the candies. And…I’m sorry. About Sweetie Drops.”

Lyra held up a finger to silence him. “No,” she said. “We’re not going into that right now. I loved her once, and now I know she never loved me back. But she loves you. And I’ve moved on. I have a husband back in my own galaxy, and a grown stepdaughter. I love both of them, and they love me.”

“So…we’re good?”

“You and me were good as soon as the war ended. Me and Bon Bon will never be good, but that’s okay.” Lyra paused. “And I probably shouldn’t say it, but you are one hell of a lucky stallion. I know from experience.”

Calcite blushed. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

“How did you even have kids anyway? You’re a crystal pony.”

“The kids? Oh. Two of them are adopted, and little Toffee was born with the help of, well, a donor.”

“Well, however you did it, they are friggin adorable.”

“Thanks. They’re everything to me. They and Sweetie Drops are what make surviving the war worth it.”

Lyra was about to say something when her omnitool suddenly lit up.

“What’s that?”

“A message from my stepdaughter. She’s wondering where I am. We were supposed to get lunch.”

“Go ahead,” said Calcite, waving her away. “I’m fine here. I’ll be leaving by this afternoon as soon as they can fit me for a new wheel brace. I’ve got to eat this entire box of candies anyway, and with Gummy Sploofs, that’s going to take at least two hours.”

“Thank you for talking with me.”

“No problem. Thank YOU for saving me. And my children. I wish I could really have you over for dinner, but…”

“I know,” said Lyra. “I know.”

She waved as she moved toward the door- -only to bump directly into Bon Bon as she was entering.

“Lyra?” said Bon Bon, her eyes narrowing as she righted herself. “What are you doing here?”

“Visiting a friend. And now I’m leaving.”

Lyra walked past Bon Bon. “Wait!” she called. Lyra stopped. “I have nothing to say to you, Bon Bon.”

“You saved my husband and my children. Why?”

“Why? Do I even need a reason? Because it was the right thing to do.”

“Thank you.” It almost sounded as though it pained her to say it.

“Just don’t treat Calcite like you treated me, Bon Bon. I loved you once. You have no idea how much I loved you. But I don’t anymore. So this is goodbye.”

Bon Bon said something, but Lyra did not hear it. It was drowned out by the sound of her metal claws clicking on the tile floor below. Not that it mattered anyway. Lyra left Bon Bon behind, and she was finally free.

“So?” asked Starlight, apprehensively. Across from her, Sunburst’s fork clicked against a plate of various vegetables, levitated by his magic. They had just finished dinner at his home which, as far as Starlight could tell, was a small apartment that he had segmented off of a much larger living space that now sat empty.

Sunburst seemed to think for a long moment, then took a sip of whine and looked up answered. “I’m not sure you should have told me, Starlight. If the Princess wanted me to know, she would have told me.”

“What matters is that I wanted you to know,” said Starlight. “You’re probably the smartest pony I know. I want to know your opinion.”

“I am also one of the only ponies you know,” pointed out Sunburst. “But thank you. I’m afraid I can’t help, though. I’ve done my fair share of research, but I’m a soldier. History was never my specialty.”

Starlight sighed. “Just how many galaxies do you think have life in them, Sunburst?”

Sunburst raised an eyebrow. “Probably all of them, at some level. Or at least eighty percent or so. Why do you ask? Surely you can’t expect to search them all.”

“I sure hope not,” said Starlight.

“And there is no guarantee that Starswirl went anywhere with life. In fact, it would make far more sense if he had gone somewhere isolated. He could have built it in orbit around a high-gravity world, or in an asteroid field, or even just in darkspace. Whatever it is, it might not even still exist.”

“Sunset things it still exists,” said Starlight. “And she seems to know more about than anyone else.”

“Can you track her, then?”

“I’ve put Armchair on that, but even then. We would need a deep-space telescope and about four hundred years of searching.”

Sunburst poked at his food a bit more, and then set his fork down. “Starlight, what’s the real reason you’re telling me this?”

“I already told you. I want your help.”

“And what help can I give you? I’m just one stallion.” He paused. “You came to tell me you’re leaving.”

Starlight did not answer at first. Then she nodded. “Yeah,” she said.

Sunburst sighed and stood up. He picked up the plates and carried them over to the sink. Starlight stood as well, helping him.

“So you’ve come to a decision?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I’m only leaving to find Sunset Shimmer.”

“And what? Stop her? From whatever nebulous goal she has? Starlight, you were there. We both were. You can’t stop her. You’ll…” He set his plates down and shook his head. “I don’t know if you’ll come back.”

“And if I don’t? Would you be sad?”

“Starlight…how could you say something like that? Of course I’d be sad. You mean a lot to me. I…no. Never mind. I just care for you a lot.”

“What? What were you going to say?”

“I…” he lowered his head, and then lifted it. He turned himself toward Starlight and looked directly into her cybernetic eyes. “I was going to say that I love you, Starlight.”

Starlight nearly laughed. “You can’t be serious, Sunburst,” she said. “We barely met two days ago.”

“No. We met almost thirty years ago. And I think I loved you then, too.”

“Sunburst, we were kids.”

“I know. I know how this sounds. It’s ridiculous. Which is why I didn’t want to tell you. You’ve only been awake for five years, but I’ve had over two decades of life. That whole time, I couldn’t forget you. I couldn’t stop missing you. I couldn’t stop hating myself because I couldn’t help you.”

Starlight put her hoof on his shoulder. “There wasn’t anything you could do.”

“And there isn’t anything I can do now. I just…” he paused, and wiped one of his eyes. “I have a good life, Starlight. Flurry Heart, the Princess, my friends…is it wrong that I keep thinking about what we could have had? If we had grown up together? All the things we missed?”

“You can’t change the past, Sunburst. Believe me. I wish it were different too.”

“It’s not the past I’m worried about. I finally have you back, and now you’re going to leave. I know its selfish, but…for the past few days, I’ve been thinking. About what we could be. Together. We’re not children anymore, but I thought we could finally have a chance at that life. It’s stupid, I know.”

“It’s not stupid.” Starlight hugged him. “I want that life too. More than anything. But I have to do this. Why don’t you come with me? We can face this together.”

Sunburst hugged her back. “No. I can’t. I have to stay here. They need me. This might be the last time together, Starlight.”

Starlight looked up at him. She could feel her pupils dilated to their maximum width, and she knew that she was blushing. “And?”

“And what?”

Starlight answered by kissing him. His eyes widened with surprise, but kissed back. Starlight wrapped her forelegs around him, feeling the implants on his back. Her hair stood on end as he touched hers as well, and she found herself pushing him toward his bedroom. As she did, she started removing her own clothing, and he started taking off his.

After a few seconds, Starlight took her lips off his but did not release him. “I’m a virgin,” she blurted out.

“Oh,” he said. “I’m not. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. That’s okay.” A thought occurred to Starlight, and she felt her grip around him loosen. “What about Flurry Heart?”

Sunburst blinked. “What about her?”

“You’re married. I shouldn’t- -we shouldn’t- -”

“I’m betrothed, not married. And I think she’ll understand.”

They started kissing again, and finally reached the bed. Starlight pushed Sunburst onto his back and climbed on top of him.

“You certainly are an impressive looking mare,” he said.

“You think so? Just wait.”

Starlight activated several of her internal implants and a tech structure assembled around Core implants on her spine, building itself and extending a set of long, narrow angular protrusions at her sides.

Sunburst looked nervous. “Starlight…what- -what is that?”

“I want to be inside you, Sunburst.” Then she added, blushing. “Please?”

Sunburst hesitated, but then nodded. He seemed to know exactly what to do as Starlight slowly descended, pushing the wing-like tech structures gently beneath him. They stabilized, solidifying, and through them Starlight could feel his implants. Then she connected.

Starlight and Sunburst both gasped in surprise at the sensation that washed over them. Starlight had not been entirely sure what would happen, but something certainly had. With the two of them connected, the boundaries between them began to dissolve, and Starlight felt herself falling into Sunburst.

She lowered her head onto his chest, and realized that she could feel herself through his nerves. Everything he felt, she felt, and vice versa. Even his thoughts became apparent, although only in a tangential sense that allowed his emotions to wash over Starlight, and hers to be felt by him, leading him to respond and together to create new and diverse pathways of thought.

Reality began to become a blur as their combined mental state took precedence. Starlight distantly felt Sunburst’s mouth around her horn, and she could taste the almost fruity flavor through his taste buds. Instead of the pain of being linked to a machine, Starlight was exposed to new sensations that she did not now her implants could even accomplish. It all felt so good.

Comparatively, Starlight’s biotitic power dwarfed Sunburst’s. She assumed a dominant role, and Sunburst fell easily into a submissive one. Despite his weakness, though, he did not come to the exchange emptyhanded: his decades of using his Core implants to command legions of starships in complex battle maneuvers proved to be an extreme advantage, and Starlight had to stop herself from crying out as he used that same dexterity on her.

With their perceived reality warping around them, Starlight and Sunburst did not feel the passage of time. It all seemed to break down into sequence of images of moaning and rubbing against each other until eventually Starlight became aware of a strange sensation that appeared to be growing from every bone in her body

“Sunburst…I think…I think I’m…”

“I know…me too…”

Starlight felt the urge growing uncontrollable, and then suddenly she and Sunburst grasped each other tightly and cried out in unison. A small magical explosion emanated from both of them, spreading out rapidly through the room and knocking down the various shelves and dressers that were not attached to the walls. The intensity of the discharged magic made Starlight’s mind go blank, and she felt her entire body tighten as she watched through both her and Sunburst’s eyes as the magic impacted the crystal walls, causing them to illuminate with blinding light before carrying off through them, traveling outward from the structure like silent lightning within the crystal.

When she finally calmed down, Starlight realized that their mutual outburst had terminated her connection. She smiled, knowing that she probably could not have taken much more anyway. She slid off of Sunburst and beside him. They were both soaked in sweat, but she still wrapped her forelegs around his chest.

“Oh sweet Cadence,” said Sunburst. Then, not knowing what else to say, repeated himself. “Sweet Cadence…I didn’t know we could do that.”

“Neither did I,” said Starlight, nuzzling the fur on his chest. “But I’m glad we did.”

“Oh wow…I didn’t…I didn’t even get inside.”

“Do you still want to?”

“No! I don’t think my heart can take it. And after that…I don’t think it could even compare.” He started to sit up. “I think I need a shower- -”

“No,” said Straight, forcing him back down. “Now is snuggle time.”

“Oh.” Sunburst reached behind Starlight’s head and held her close to him. “Yeah. I don’t think I could have walked anyway.”

Starlight fell asleep quickly. It was actually the first time she had slept in years. As a Core, it has not actually been necessary for her. The few times she did, she was plagued by terrible dreams, fragments of memories involving being held facedown and immobile as surgeons took her ponyhood away from her. The only time she had ever been able to sleep had been sharing a bed with Jack, and that had become impossible once the continued solidity of their starship hinged on Starlight retaining consciousness.

This time, though, the dreams were different. Starlight awoke- -or thought she awoke- -in a place that she had never been before. What first struck her was the scent of the air. She had never known a dream to have a smell, but this one smelled like smoke and ash.

Then, looking around, Starlight realized why the world smelled as though it was burning. Because it was- -or more precisely, had. All around her were the hulking masses of tilted, broken buildings, their alien frames charred and exposed. Ash was falling from the cold gray sky above, and Starlight shivered from the temperature.

“Hello?” she called. There was no response aside from her echo off the fragmented and burned walls and the piles of nondescript junk and debris lying in the street. She was not sure why, but something felt wrong about this dream. It was too real. Starlight looked behind her at the path that she had apparently come from and saw her hoofprints leading out to where she was standing, as if she had walked there. She knew it was a dream, but she remembered that long and silent walk. This place felt too real.

She began walking. All around her was profound silence and emptiness. Starlight had spent much of her life in space, but this empty, dead city felt so much more lonely. Space was a void that remained that way simply by lack of habitation; this city looked as though it had been built to house millions, and yet its emptiness stood in stark contrast to that sentiment.

Starlight continued to grow more and more nervous. The dream was too real, too consistent. There was no haze blocking her consciousness, no sign of bizarre logic or rapidly shifting settings. Just a world slowly passing by.

Then there was a sound. It reflected off the buildings, and at first Starlight could tell neither what it was nor its origin. After a moment of listening, though, she determined that it was the sound of a child crying.

Slowly, Starlight climbed over the wreckage in the street and approached the sound. It was not long before she found its source. In the center of an area where the road widened, Starlight saw a human child. She was crouched in the dust and ash, weeping.

As Starlight drew nearer, she saw that the child was dressed in dirty rags. “Hey,” said Starlight. “It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be- -”

She froze. She had grown close enough to see that the child’s back was exposed, and her pale yellowish skin was overgrown with Core implants that had been mostly obscured by her yellow and red hair.

“N…no,” said Starlight, backing away. “You can’t be a Core. You’re not- -you can’t- -”

Starlight turned around, and saw a much taller figure standing behind her. A human with much more ornate robes, and a pair of blind, staring blue eyes- -but the same red and yellow hair of the child.

“You,” said Starlight, somehow knowing. “It’s- -it’s you.”

The woman nodded. “You,” she said. “I saw you. You are pure. Awake.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Find me, Starlight Glimmer.” She raised one of her hands, spreading her five gloved fingers with her palm facing Starlight. “It is the future.”

“The future? I don’t know- -”

She was cut off as the woman slowly lowered her hand, but instead of returning it to her side she extended just one finger and pointed at the ground beneath her feet. “It is the only logical conclusion.”

Starlight looked down at what she had assumed was rubble. What was beneath her hooves, though, was not building debris or wreckage. It was skulls. Countless millions of shattered and burned pony skulls. The streets of the entire city were lined with them.

Starlight snapped awake. She was aware that she may have been screaming, because Sunburst was already awake and looking terrified, trying to get her to stop. As soon as she actually regained consciousness, Starlight was able to quickly- -but not immediately- -stop. She collapsed into Sunburst’s grasp.

“Starlight,” he said. “What happened?”

Starlight did not answer. There was no way she could. She just held him as tightly as she could, not wanting to let go.

Jack walked slowly down yet another long crystal hallway. It was night, but once again she could not sleep. She very seldom could. That was the problem with living an interesting life: it left too many nightmares in its wake.

She was also beginning to grow irrationally worried. Starlight had still not returned. Jack knew that she had gone to visit her stallion friend, and Jack had enough experience to know what that probably meant. This filled her with a deeply negative emotion. She was not sure of its identity, though. Jealously, perhaps, or maybe just protectiveness. Or just another one of the countless flavors of loneliness that she had learned to accept as a part of her life.

Zedok poked her head out of a room behind Jack, and then stepped out, jogging toward her.

“Hey, Jack- -”

Jack turned sharply and projected a high-lethality singularity directly at Zedok’s head. Zedok reached up and with a snap of green light caught it, suspending it a green-colored biotic field.

She looked at the sphere she was holding, and then at Jack and smiled a smile that the real Zedok would never be able to produce even if she tried. “How did you know it was me? Or did you?”

Chrysalis closed her fist around the singularity and it died with a small burst of energy as it imploded. Jack just looked at her, and then turned back to walking. “I just did,” she said.

“No. Nobody ‘just does,’” said Chrysalis, walking up quickly toward Jack. Jack turned once again, this time charging a shockwave- -and this time seeing a younger, prettier version of herself staring back.

“If you take one step closer, I’ll bring this whole place down.”

Instead of smiling, Chrysalis’s expression darkened into a frown. The illusion that she maintained broke just slightly, and Jack thought she saw something black and chitinous just beneath the fake, untattooed version of her own skin.

“You are beginning to annoy me,” she said. Her voice had an odd feature to it, a strange kind of internal echo that made her suddenly sound almost like a turian.

“Me? You’re the one who’s wearing MY face. Or pretending to be my friends. If I were thirty years younger, I would have crushed you. But I’ve been anything but patient.”

“Why don’t you love me?”

Jack just gaped. She had not expected that question, or anything even close to that question. “What?”

“It doesn’t make sense. My fidelity is perfect. I can feel it in your mind. I copied exactly what you loved and you tried to KILL ME. That’s never happened- -that CAN’T happen!”

“Don’t pretend to know how I feel. You can’t.”

“But I can. You want love, but you can’t accept it. I can give you everything, I can BE anyone- -but when I become what you love, you only give me hate. It’s maddening.”

“Is that why you’ve been following me around? Of all the shitty reasons- -”

“It is not ‘shitty’! I need to be loved! Every pony I meet, I can at least gain some affection, but not YOU. Why not YOU?”

“Because you’re a creepy shapeshifter? Because I don’t even LIKE you? Hell, I’m barely even tolerating you right now.”

“Please, just tell me what I need to be.”

Jack leaned forward and looked into Chrysalis’s eyes. “Gone,” she said, before turning around.

“Wait!” said Chrysalis, racing around in front of Jack. “Please! You have no idea what this is like for me, how…how embarrassing it is. I used to be a queen, and now I’m pleading a puny mortal- -but PLEASE LOVE ME!”

Jack stared at her for a long moment, and then sighed. “Alright. Do you want to have sex?”

“Sex?” Chrysalis’s eyes lit up. “Yes, I can do that.” She leaned forward, her repertoire of motions suddenly becoming seductive. She pressed herself against Jack. “And I can be anyone- -anyTHING- -you want me to be.”

“Alright,” said Jack. “I’ll go all out on you. Drop-down, bone-crushing sex.”

“Yes! Please!”

“BUT.”

“But? But what?”

“Not in that form.”

“Oh,” said Chrysalis, smiling. “Well, as I said, I can be- -”

“It has to be you. Not an illusion. Not one of these bad masks. YOU. Whatever it is you look like when you’re not trying. Show me that, and I’ll do you.”

Chrysalis looked up at Jack wide eyed, and then stepped back. She seemed almost confused- -or on the verge of panic. “But- -but I- -don’t you want something else? That male, I can be him- -”

“No,” said Jack, crossing her arms. “YOU. I don’t want a fake. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it with Chrysalis.”

Chrysalis looked around, panicked, and then shifted. She became Zedok, and then realizing that this was not correct, shifted again. She became Starlight. Then she changed again, this time becoming Shephard. Then a krogan. A yahg. Cadence. A crystal pony. A turian. Then, finally, she reverted back to Jack, her eyes wild and on the verge of tears.

“You can’t even remember, can you?” said Jack.

“You don’t understand. I can be anything- -I can give you anything- -”

“You can give me a copy of anything. But underneath? There’s nothing real. Does that answer your question? Why I can’t love you? Why NOBODY will EVER love you?”

“But- -but- -”

“I thought so,” sighed Jack. “And you know what? I was kind of looking forward to it. I’m so damn alone. But with you? I’d still be alone.”

She turned her back to Chrysalis and walked off the way she had originally come. She did not look back at Chrysalis, and Chrysalis did not bother to try to approach her. In a way, Jack hoped that she would, but she never did. It only made her feel more sad.