Chapter 26: Discussion

It was early in the morning. Zedok yawned and took another sip from her coffee. It was warm and pleasant, although she could not help but wonder not only where ponies got coffee from but how they picked it with hooves. She knew it was probably best to not think about such things. It was just one of those strange phenomena that seemed to permeate the universe, like why everyone spoke the language, what a volus actually looked like, or why quarians were universally hated. It was good coffee, though, and Zedok was fixated on the irony that she could get better hot beverages halfway across the universe than on Parnack.

Still considering the thought, she entered a darkened room and snapped her fingers. Her ability to summon biotic energy in her hands had been badly compromised by her chronic injuries, but it was enough to create a resonance cascade of energy that lit the chandelier in the room- -and revealed a turian sitting alone in the dark.

Upon seeing this, Zedok nearly spit out her coffee and jumped in surprise. “Berry!” she cried. “Why the hell were you sitting in the dark?!”

“I got here early,” she said. She did not look at Zedok, and her tone made it sound as though speaking to Zedok was an annoying distraction from her current task- -which, as far as Zedok could tell, was nothing more than sitting at a long conference table.

“That doesn’t really answer the question,” said Zedok, sitting down. Beri still did not look up at her. “Is something wrong with you? Stomachache? You didn’t eat that hay stuff, did you? Because I ate about four pounds of it before I realized that asari can’t digest the stuff. Apparently it’s a fodder grass. Who knew?”

“I know that,” said Beri. “Humans farm it on their colonies.” Her cybernetic eyes flashed upward. It was the first time that Zedok saw them up close, and the first time that she realized that Beri’s eyes were artificial. From the look of them, they were much higher than hers or Starlight’s. Military grade, even. “And I don’t have a stomach. Or intestines. Or organs at all.”

“Oh,” said Zedok. “Yeah. That makes sense for a cyborg.”

Beri’s eyes narrowed. “You knew?”

“Um, yeah? How could I not? Despite what you turians think, asari are not all a bunch of sheltered liberal-arts beatniks. I’m a trained physician. Mostly. And you are bad at hiding it.”

“It’s difficult to slow myself down to your level. I can move so fast, so much faster. And you’re all slow sacks of meat…”

“Ah. So you’re a salarian now.” Zedok leaned back and took another sip of her coffee. “It does not explain why you are right now what is known in the medical field as a ‘sack of sad’. What’s the matter? Is the stick in crooked today?”

“I don’t know what this stick you persist on referring to is.”

Zedok leaned forward. “The one shoved up your ass. Or cloaca, in your case. Oh wait. You’re a cyborg. You don’t have genitals. That’s probably your problem, actually.”

Beri frowned. “And I suppose I am supposed to take advice on how to use genitals from an asari? No thank you. I would rather not have scale-itch.” She muttered something that was unintelligible, and then turned away. “You are not turian. You would not understand.”

“About being an uptight whiner? Nope. Not a clue. But if it’s the cybernetics, stuff it up your metaphorical butt. You’re not the only cyborg here, you know.” Zedok put down her coffee and raised her arms in front of her. “See these? No muscle or bone. All robotic inside. And Jack? Lost her legs on Earth. Starlight? I just did some surgery on her, and she’s mostly metal at this point. And don’t even get me started on Lyra…or Armchair…”

“The only problem with my enhancements is that there aren’t ENOUGH. Not enough…not yet…”

“Clearly,” said Zedok, sarcastically.

“Like I said, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Yeah. Because if you had just a little bit more metal, maybe you wouldn’t have frozen at just the sight of a Reaper.”

Beri shot up suddenly, her chair falling behind her. Zedok just kept smiling- -she had just found Beri’s exact problem.

“You have no idea- -”

“Don’t I? I was there, Berry.”

“Don’t call me BERRY! My name is TYROS!”

“Sensitive, aren’t you?”

“Oh please, what would an asari know? You didn’t have to grow up on Palavan. Hearing constant stories about heroes of a war that you never even saw. Or getting passed over for promotions by infinitely less qualified rejects who could claim ‘battle experience’ because they ran supplies during the invasion. To watch the near perfect story of your idol tarnished by something beyond his control, his legacy forgotten. To wish every single day that you could have been in the battle- -”

“So you could freeze up when it counts, you mean?”

Beri slammed her fist into the table with enough force to fracture the crystal. “You have no IDEA what that was like! The embarrassment, the shame, to finally get my chance and have the one part of me that I can’t improve FAIL?! DO YOU?!”

Zedok paused, and then looked up at her. “No. Of course not.”

“I didn’t think so,” said Beri, sitting back down.

“Because I’m not a coward.”

Beri’s eyes widened. “What did you just call me?”

“Oh please. All that whining? You already knew. I’m just pointing it out. Do you expect me to feel sorry for you? Because you pissed away your body for NOTHING? Because you got afraid when you saw the big bad Reaper? Should I call the whambulance?”

“How dare you- -”

“How dare I? Point out the truth? But what would you understand about that? You’re a turian. Your entire military is a joke. My people would have crushed you if it hadn’t been for the salarians.”

“The turians and asari have never had a conflict of any nature.”

“I’m not talking about the asari. You’ve met my father.”

Beri’s expression hardened. “You’re half krogan.”

“Yeah. Do you know what happened to the krogan who froze up? They got eaten. Or blown up by artillery strikes.”

“As opposed to the cannon fodder that took the front lines? What you’re talking about is bloodlust. A defect, not a benefit.”

“No. What I’m talking about is doing what needs to be done when it needs to be done. Without hesitation. If you hesitate? You die. Or, worse, people you care about die.”

“I care for no one,” said Beri. “I have taken great steps and sacrifice to ensure that I have no strong personal connections.”

“And you wonder why you hesitate.”

Beri finally went silent, and Zedok did as well, sipping her coffee. For a moment, she wondered if the turian would actually attempt to kill her. Turians were well known jerks, and it was not out of the realm of possibility. Instead of drawing a weapon, though, Beri just leaned back and stared at Zedok.

“I really hate you,” she said.

“I can tell. But I also think you have the hots for me. You’d probably go for a feel if I gave you have a chance.”

Armchair poked his head out from beneath the table. “What? Can we watch?”

This time, both Zedok and Beri nearly jumped out of their chairs. “Armchair!” cried Zedok. “How- -how long have you been under there?”

“Nine hours forty two minutes seventy six seconds. Seventy seven. Seventy eight. Seventy nine…”

“Nine- -why? What the hell are you doing under there?”

“We have composed an arch of four hundred and twelve individual sonnets on the subject of windows, as well as an extended ballad about the Legend of Legion. And windows.”

“WHY?”

Armchair shrugged. “Because we like windows. A lot.”

He emerged from beneath the table, his body abnormally spry and flexible as he pulled himself into one of the chairs. It was somewhat disturbing to watch, even for Zedok. Geth were strange.

“Would you like to hear a poem about windows?” he asked.

“NO.” said Zedok and Beri simultaneously.

It took about half an hour of Armchair relaying his sonnets before the others started to arrive. Darien appeared and sat down next to Zedok, and Jack took a position leaning against the back wall. Around this time, Armchair became distracted by attempting to catch a dust mote and stopped relaying his bizarre poems, just as Zedok was starting to appreciate them. Lyra entered last and sat at the far extreme of the table.

“Have you seen Starlight?” asked Jack.

“Many times,” said Armchair, grabbing at the air. “Almost got you, tiny fragment of probably skin or horse dander!”

“We do not have ‘dander’,” muttered Lyra.

“She said she wanted to meet us,” said Zedok. “I hope she brought more coffee. This stuff is so. GOOD.”

“Zed, do you know what a civet is?”

“Civet?” Zedok took a long sip of her coffee. “No? Why?”

“You can tell her later,” said Starlight entering the room. She was followed by another pony, a unicorn stallion with long orange hair.

“Hey,” said Zedok. “Star, is this that stallion you’ve been talking about?”

“This is Sunburst,” said Starlight. “I want him to participate in this meeting.”

Zedok leaned forward and looked closely at Sunburst, who took a step back to maintain his personal space. “Oh my gersh,” she said. “Look at the little blaze on his face! And the beard! He’s friggin adorable, Starlight!”

“Oh my,” said Sunburst, blushing. “Thank you. And you are very…blue.”

“That does explain where you were last night,” muttered Jack. “And why you smell like fancy soap.”

Zedok gasped. “Star, you actually did it?”

“I’d rather not talk about that,” said Starlight. Sunburst was blushing, and they both took seats between Zedok and Lyra.

“I hear a ‘yes’…”

“I don’t,” said Darien, apparently confused. “But I do smell the soap. It smells pretty.”

“Can we please be serious for a moment?” said Starlight.

“What’s up, Star?” said Jack.

Starlight took a breath, and then explained the situation as she had explained it to Sunburst before. The others, for their part, listened patiently. They would sometimes interrupt with questions- -usually from Armchair- -but never anything substantial.

Then, finally, Starlight came to her conclusion. “…and the ultimate problem is, I have no idea where Starswirl’s device is located. I don’t know where Sunset Shimmer is going.”

“It potentially puts many lives in danger,” said Sunburst. “At this point, she is not just a threat to the Crystal Empire, but potentially to Equestria, and to any species that gets in her way.”

“And we care, why, exactly?” said Jack.

“Why?” said Sunburst. “Because it is the right thing to do?”

“Right thing- -Star, what you’re talking about is suicide. You saw that thing. Even if we find it, then what? Where it is, that’s not a problem. Not even close.”

“If you don’t want to help, you can stay behind,” retorted Sunburst, a bit sharply.

“I didn’t say I’m not going to help. It wouldn’t be my first suicide mission.”

“The point is moot,” said Beri. “You just said yourself that you don’t know where it is.”

“So what do you actually recommend?” said Zedok. “Just sit here and wait until it shows up?”

“No. I recommend not straying from the mission objectives. Even though all of you hardly seem to care. We inform the Citadel and wait for a response. We’re forming diplomatic relations with Equestria, but we’re not going to fight a war for them.”

“Would not this be a good way to prove friendship, then?” suggested Darien.

Beri opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it, realizing that Darien had a point.

“We have checked with the various observatories,” said Armchair. “Despite this, we have nothing to look for. The vessel has no unique signatures that we are aware of. We have no way to track it.”

“Are you using the royal we?” asked Sunburst.

“No. We are not.”

“You know,” said Lyra, leaning forward as the rest of them went silent. She paused as her one good eye scanned them all. “I’ve heard that legend before.”

Starlight suddenly rejoined the conversation. “You have?”

“Yeah. There are old legends. Impossibly old legends from the time the Dundian Codex was written. About the origin of the Questlords.”

Sunburst’s eyes widened. “You’re a Questlord?” Lyra nodded. “You…that should be impossible. You’re people- -”

“Disbanded after their commander’s body was ruined during the last Crystal War? They did. And yet I’m still here.”

“The legends,” said Starlight. “What did they say?”

Lyra sighed. “Not much. The original Codex was lost millennia ago, and its contents survive only as an oral tradition. The legend had almost been forgotten by the time I was born. But some of the old knights still told it. They claimed that the first of our kind were mage-warriors, direct descendants from the disciples of Starswirl the Bearded.”

“You mean the ones he took with him?” Starlight leaned forward, her eyes wide.”

“That’s not clear. But…I think so. There was a sense that the original Questlords were elsewhere, and that they returned. Some of us, anyway. To safeguard Starswirl’s bloodline.”

“Starswirl had children?”

“Yes. A daughter. His line continued in obscurity for some time. Until the last descendant was lost during the Huntsmare Uprising. That is simple history. What you’re asking me about is mythology.”

“Mythology?”

“Ancient battles, epic wars against powerful wizards, unicorns standing at the side of brave mythological warriors. None of it is true.”

“I know those legends,” said Sunburst. “Or at least part of it.”

“I do too,” said Beri. “In the children’s books. Bipedal monsters.”

“Aliens,” said Zedok. She turned to Starlight. “That means he went to an inhabited world.”

“World…” said Lyra. Her eye suddenly brightened. “Paper. I need paper!”

Sunburst fumbled through his pockets, trying to find a loose page. Armchair, meanwhile, produced a large pile of paper and a pen, most of them covered in very small, very neat print. He handed a pen and a blank sheet to Lyra.

Lyra lifted the pen in her magic and immediately began to scribble on the paper. “The legends about those aliens are somewhat universal, but they’re based on Questlord history.”

“But they’re not useful,” said Beri. “Almost every species in our galaxy is bipedal. If there is life in other galaxies- -”

“And we don’t know the nature of the monsters,” said Sunburst. “It varies immensely in each telling.”

“But it all comes from one source,” said Lyra. “And even if our Codex failed to survive, or icons did. There is a motif used to represent that era. It’s damn obscure…but it always had an impact on me as a filly.” She put down the pen and lifted the paper. The image drawn on it was highly stylized, but Starlight immediately recognized what it was: a hand.

“Five fingers,” said Beri. “But that would mean…”

Jack and Zedok both raised a hand. Each of them had five fingers.

“Only two races in the galaxy have appendages of that shape,” said Armchair. “If this line of reasoning stands, the device can only be on two possible places.”

“Thessia or Earth,” said Beri.

Starlight felt a twinge in her brain, a fragment of a memory. Not a specific image, but a feeling- -one she associated with a dead city with streets paved with pony skulls. “Earth,” she said, standing up suddenly. “It’s on Earth. I know it is.”

“Are you sure?” said Jack.

“It has to be. I’m sure of it.”

The room fell silent. Jack was the first to interrupt it. “Well, FUCK.”

“What’s wrong?” said Starlight. She was smiling. “We know where it is! Where she’s going!”

“Yeah,” said Jack. “To goddamn EARTH. Star, do you have any idea what Earth IS?”

“The human homeworld.”

“A fortress,” said Beri. “The most heavily militarized zone in all of galactic history, populated by xenophobic monkey things who do absolutely nothing except prepare for an absolute war of galactic devastation. Earth is under Class 4 quarantine- -and not just because they have systematically violated every rule that the Council has held sacred for millennia. Aliens are not permitted in Alliance space, let alone the Sol system- -let alone Earth!”

“I can’t even set foot on it,” said Jack. “I’m considered a wanted criminal. The ‘shoot on sight’ kind.”

“But if we just try to contact them- -”

“Humans do not listen to logic,” interrupted Beri. “They never have, and they never will. Imagine if you combined the murderous rage of the krogan with the technological expertise of salarians, the paranoia of baterians, and the breeding habits of vorcha. That would be humans. There is a reason they are banned from the Citadel.”

“Which provides an advantage to us,” noted Armchair. He projected a holographic starchart over the table. “This is the Sol system,” he said, pointing. “And this is Alliance space.” A boundary formed in the orange-tinged holographic cloud of stars and annotated systems. “From your observations, the Crimson Horizon is capable of neither use of the mass-relay system nor direct teleportation without extreme sacrifice. She will be forced to advance directly through here.” He pointed, and a system of marks appeared.

“What the hell is that?” said Starlight.

“The human defense force. A naval force originally intended to repel the Reapers should they return, but later optimized to defend against Council races. It is by no means equally distributed, but Sunset Shimmer would have to advance through it to reach the Sol system.”

“Not just that,” said Beri. She pointed at the map, and Armchair projected a different set of points in blue. “The combined turian and asari fleets have been in a blockade on the far side of the neutral zone for years. The force supposedly outguns and outnumbers the human ships. Sunset Shimmer would have to go through them too before she even hit the human lines. It would be a suicide run.”

“But she’s going to try.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” said Beri. “Because Thessia is far less defended. If you go to the wrong planet…”

“I know,” said Starlight. “And I know she’s going to Earth. I just know.”

“You will have some difficulty approaching the planet, though,” said Armchair. The hologram changed to a projection of a strange, enormous device orbiting a small planet.

“What the hell is that?” asked Zedok, leaning forward.

“The Charon mass relay.”

“That’s a mass relay?”

“The Alliance has constructed what is known as the ‘Iris’ system for mass relays to Sol and associated colonial systems. It causes resonance dispersion of any vessel approaching without an Alliance IFF.”

“What does that mean?” asked Darien, sounding as though he already knew the answer.

“It vaporizes non-Alliance vessels,” said Beri.

“Fine,” said Starlight. “That doesn’t matter. I wasn’t intending on using the relays anyway.”

“Yes it does,” said Beri. She blanched slightly as the implication of Armchair’s words became clear. “What he means is, if we go in there…there’s no backup.”

“Do you still want to try this?” asked Jack.

Starlight looked to Sunburst. He looked nervous, but she could tell that he understood. She turned back to the others and addressed her friends.

“Hell yes,” she said. “Let’s do this.”