Mass Core 2: Crimson Horizon

The ship shook violently, and there was a sound of objects rebounding off its metal surface. Jack looked at one of the already rusting walls and saw several dents appear- -and then a small hole as the tiniest of rocks cut through the metal.

“Oh damn!” cried James from the open cockpit of the craft. “Hole! HOLE!”

“Repairing,” said William, standing up even as the ship suddenly seemed to drop several meters below him. He stumbled but recovered, breaking a container on the wall containing emergency foam and pouring the sealant into the hole.

“James, what the HELL are you trying to do!” cried Jack.

“It’s not my fault! We’re going through one hell of a shit hailstorm here, and- -oh CRAP!”

The ship turned again, throwing Jack to her side. Her harness held her in place, but behind her, she watched as Darien- -who was too big for the seats- -was forced to brace himself. He was shaking and whimpering, but did not let go of Zedok even once.

“Huh?” said Zedok, partially awakened by the sudden jostling. “Where…oh damnit. Of all the times to wake up…”

“What the hell even is this thing?” demanded Beri, who, on account of being handcuffed to William, was now nearly standing even as they hit yet another barrage of horrific turbulence. “If this is what Alliance ships look like- -”

“It’s not,” said Maria, who had a deathgrip on the edges of her own seat. “This is genuine surplus. Usually used for- -” She closed her eyes as another set of rocks pounded against the ship, with one of them cracking the front cockpit glass. “- -interplanetary travel.”

“So you’re entire planetary evacuation system relies on THESE?”

“No, of course not. The real rockets are for tactical assets only. We don’t generally evacuate people.”

The ship turned sharply, and even Jack nearly vomited.

“JAMES!” she cried. “Do you even know how to fly this thing?!”

He swiveled in his seat, revealing the fact that he was not actually controlling the ship but instead reading a battered and moldering paper copy of its manual. “Hell no!” he called back.

Flurry Heart stuck her head from around the pilot’s seat. “And the control’s aren’t exactly intuitive!”

Jack actually shivered. “You’re actually letting the- -child- -in the- -” She paused. “You know what? I lived a reasonable life. I guess it’s time to go.”

“Might I offer a suggestion?” said Armchair. He was currently existing as a small central processor being held by an extremely nauseous looking Chrysallis buckled into the seats on the other side of the isle from Jack. “If you could interface me with the central computer system- -”

“It doesn’t have a central computer,” said Maria. “Do you think I’d be letting a girl with no fingers fly it if I could interface? It’s a hardware-only system. Old-style legacy transistors. No software allowed.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” screamed Beri. “W- -WHY?!”

“To prevent geth infiltration,” sighed Maria, once again closing her eyes against yet another surge of turbulence.

“The geth do not infiltrate,” said Armchair.

“Like hell you don’t,” said Lyra, stepping forward. “We’re going through a debris field, right?”

“Debris field? We’re going through half the planet!” said James, pointing.

“Fine,” said Lyra, extending her arms and charging them. “Jack, you take the rear. I’ll take the front. I won’t be able to stop the large ones, but, well…” her arms ignited, and through the windows Jack could see a biotic field surrounding the front half of the ship. Undrestanding what Lyra was trying to do, she pulled off her belt and started to push past Darien to the unoccupied rear of the ship.

“You heard her,” said Maria, standing up as well. She reached down to Beri’s handcuffs and snapped the titanium chain. “Turian, you’re a Spectre, right?”

“Of course I am,” siaid Beri. “How does that have anything to do with- -”

“Well, you’re on cannon duty,” said Maria. “I’ll take starboard, you take port. I hope your aim’s good. Or else you had better learn to love dying.”

“Cannon? What are you- -”

“The cannon’s a mass driver.” Maria pushed past Darien, joining Jack and kneeling down to open a hatch to a lower level of the nearly derelict starship. “Point. Shoot. Make big ones into little ones. Don’t miss.”

“Right,” said Beri. “Which side is port, though?”

“I’m gonna die,” muttered Maria. “I should have taken that job with Cerberus. I should have just said ‘yes, sign me up, no I don’t ask questions, no I don’t need vacation time’. But no. Now I’m going to die here…”

Jack ignored Maria’s ramblings and slid to the empty rear section of the ship. As she did, she crossed a window. Through the rocks and long-dead trees and fragments of debris that were rapidly bolting past the ship, she saw the Earth- -or what was left of it. Most of it was now a swirling blue vortex, and as Jack watched it shifted, and something began to emerge from the Void: an enormous megastructure, a ring the size of the planet. The shell-encased ship above fired several beams toward the emerging ring, linking to it and helping to pull it through.

As she watched, the air in front of her suddenly distorted with a flash of blue light. With a small explosion amplified by the extremely thin metal walls of the ship, Starlight appeared.

“Star?” said Jack, her eyes wide.

“Yeah,” said Starlight, looking defeated and staring down at the floor. “It’s- -”

Jack punched her in the face as hard as she could. Starlight’s eyes widened in shock, and she was knocked off balance and sent sprawling across the floor. She winced and put her hoof to the injury. “What the hell was that for?!” she cried, angrily.

“Don’t you EVER do that to me AGAIN!” screamed Jack.

“You? You’re the one who hit- -”

“You tried to fight her, didn’t you?! All alone?! Do you have any idea how worried I was, how goddamn IMPOTENT I felt?! I’ve always been there for you, Star! When have I ever let you down? What the HELL did I do to deserve getting abandoned while you try to play hero and go it alone?!” Her voice lowered. “I thought I was going to lose you, and I couldn’t even…I couldn’t even TRY to help you.”

Starlight looked into Jack’s eyes, and saw that she was on the verge of tears. Starlight felt so ashamed that she was forced to look away.

“Jack!” shouted Lyra from the front as the ship rumbled and slowed. “The REAR!”

“Yeah, I’m on it!” said Jack, extending her arms.

Starlight charged her horn, and the entire ship shifted. The turbulence of debris dodging and impacts disappeared as the ship took a new location high in orbit, floating over the Crimson Horizon. Starlight looked out through the window at her now perfect view of the Gate, and of the encased ship below. She saw the dying Earth, and the Alliance fleet regrouping to retrieve the rockets sent up from Earth and to launch yet another futile attack on the Crimson Horizon.

“Star?” said Jack, immediately realizing something was wrong. “I didn’t mean to hit you. I’m sorry. I just- -”

“I failed, Jack,” said Starlight. She felt her voice cracking, but forced herself to keep looking at the Earth. “I failed…”

Across the star system, the now lonely and unguarded Charon relay suddenly activated. It’s gyroscope whirred to life, a ship suddenly burst through. It did not even pause to reset coordinates; it was already streaking across the sky toward Earth.

“Whoa,” said Pinkie, looking down at herself and then up at Scootaloo. “I feel funny.”

“Your molecular structure was briefly scanned,” said Xyuka, as if that were an ordinary occurrence. “Every aspect of your structure was disassembled for an infinitesimal amount of time. There actually was some difficulty alighting the necessary code, but my IFF was successful.”

“And if it hadn’t?” said Blossomforth.

“The batter gets the splatter,” said Pinkie, stating explicitly what everypony else already seemed to know. “SPLOIT!”

“Functionally, yes,” said Xyuka. “The ship would have been atomized.”

“And you risked that rather than just take a teleport?” said Scootaloo, calmly.

“Teleporting me would make the calculations…difficult. Due to the phenomenon of dimensional dord. Also, I would rather NOT have Twilight know that I’m here.”

“Yeah, I can see how that would get hairy,” said Scootaloo. She opened a now lavender-colored interface panel, surprised at how easily it opened and how quickly it worked with Dr. Heart’s body functioning as the Failure’s new Core. She immediately to take control of the helm, only to find that it was currently in use.

“Sassa?” said Scootaloo. “You’re actually awake?”

Sassaflash was siting bolt-upright, her eyes wide and staring. She turned her head slowly. “If you had seen what I’ve seen…you’d be awake too…Heart and the clingon…in the Core room…”

Scootaloo looked to Pinkie, and Pinkie shrugged. “Hey, I’m a mare of my word.”

“Captain,” said Wintrygust, crossing the now expanded bridge as several interface panels hovered near her. “I’m detecting ships approaching. We might want to take evasive action.”

“Don’t bother,” said Xyuka. “With the modifications I’ve made to your hull and shields, they could hardly scratch this ship let alone damage it. We need to go to Earth. Directly.”

“You heard…well…me,” said Scootaloo. “Sassa, take us in. Maximum speed.”

“Maximum?” Sassa gave a wry smile. “Okay, Captain.”

Before Scootaloo could stop her, Sassa slammed down the throttle. Several planets flashed by, and in nearly an instant the Failure was in orbit around Earth.

The entire crew fell silent as they looked out at the carnage before them. The planet had mostly been destroyed, with only its fringes still barely managing to hold together while an enormous ring-like structure was being pulled through its ruptured crust.

“Sweet Celestia’s rump,” swore Scootaloo. She swiveled in her chair sharply toward Xyuka. “Now do you see? Look what she’s doing!”

“I didn’t- -I didn’t mean for this to happen,” said Xyuka.

“And do you know what happens if she finishes that?” said Scootaloo. “I don’t know what it is, but if it goes off- -Equestria dies. Millions upon millions of ponies. She’ll kill them all.”

Xyuka looked through the window, her eyes wide. Then she shook her head. “No. No! This…” She grabbed Scootaloo by the shoulder. “I have to end this. I need to get on board that ship. NOW.”

“Scans are in,” said Wintrygust. “We’re getting four Core signals in the system. One is ours. There are two aboard the Crimson Horizon, and one in orbit several hundred kilometers over it.

“Four?” said Scootaloo. “Who in Luna’s name is the fourth?”

“The signature is classified…hold on…” Wintrygust paused, looking at her screen, confused. “It lists only s EQX.”

“Starlight,” said Scootaloo. “Of all the ponies to be here…”

“Is that bad?” asked Blossomforth.

“No,” said Scootaloo. “If anything, that’s excellent.” She pushed off her chair and started toward the door.

“Captain?” said Wintrygust. “Where are you going?”

“Onto the Crimson Horizon, apparently,” said Scootaloo.

“The Crim- -Captain, wait!” said Wintrygust, following Scootaloo and Xyuka out of the bridge. “You can’t!”

“No. I have to,” said Scootaloo. “Trixie is on that ship. They have her, Wintry. I have to get her back.”

“Scootaloo…”

Scootaloo reared up and kissed Wintrygust deeply. Xyuka watched awkwardly until they disengaged.

“You love her,” said Wintrygust.

“Yeah,” said Scootaloo. “I do.”

Wintrygust turned to Xyuka. “Elder Scootaloo,” she said. “I need you to promise me that you will get my Scootaloo back to me.”

“I promise nothing,” said Xyuka. “I will tolerate her joining me if she accepts the fact that she may not return, or will witness things that force her to experience things that she might rather not experience. But, I can say that I will do my very best to protect myself. Both of me.”

“Just take care of her.” Wintrygust shifted a panel in front of her. “I don’t know how long we can stay docked to it- -”

“Don’t bother,” said Xyuka. She turned her head to one side, and a channel of blue light ran through one side of her armor. Behind her, a portal snapped open, and a gust of acrid burning air poured in. “I can move us.”

Xyuka turned around and stepped into the portal. “If you still with to follow, Scootaloo, do hold your breath.”

Scootaloo followed, but looked over her shoulder. “I’ll be back, Wintrygust. I promise.”

“I know,” said Wintrygust, waving as Scootaloo stepped through the portal and it shut behind her.

Immediately, Scootaloo found herself in an alien landscape. The sky, as it was before, was a sickly brown-yellow, and it seemed on to stretch forever in all directions, only stopping on one side at a mountain range that sat what seemed like an impossible distance away. The air smelled just as it had the last time- -bitter, sour, and rotting, and hot like the inside of an oven. Instead of falling, though, Scootaloo found herself standing in an enormous field of brown, knotted grass that waved in a nonexistent wind. Separated in it with unusually even spacing were tree-like organisms that undulated slowly, turning their bodies toward Scootaloo and Xyuka as if watching.

“Where the buck are we?” asked Scootaloo.

“I told you not to breath,” said Xyuka. “The atmosphere here is mostly radon. You’ll get cancer.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“That is because the question does not really need to be answered.”

A second portal appeared, and Xyuka stepped through. Scootaloo hesitated, observing the world that Xyuka so nonchalantly passed through, but then chased after the more jaded version of herself before the second portal could seal. As she emerged into space, Scootaloo felt air that was relatively more cool.

Looking around, she quickly realized where she was. They had arrived on the Crimson Horizon. Ahead of them, an orange glow was emanating from the opening of a corridor ahead. Scootaloo took a step toward it, but saw that Xyuka was not advancing. As her eyes adjusted to the near complete darkness of the ship, she saw why. Standing before them and blocking their path was Trixie, waiting.

“I would advise against approaching her,” said Xyuka. “Her Core implants have been modified to greatly increase her biotic output and rate of use.”

“Modified? By…” Scootaloo looked at the growth covering Trixie’s back, and she found she already knew. “Is she indoctrinated, Xyuka?”

“Scans are inconclusive.”

Trixie watched the exchange, and then her eyes fell on Scootaloo.

“Captain,” she said, darkly. “I’m assuming you’ve come to take me back.”

“I have,” said Scootaloo.

Trixie was silent for a long moment. “It figures,” she said. “You didn’t even ask if I wanted to stay. You were just going to move me, like I’m just a piece of property.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Oh, come on, Scootaloo. I know you. I know that’s how you see me. I’m just a thing to you. A toy. At best, a pet.”

“Trixie, you’re sick. We can help you.”

“Help me? How? The same way you did last time? By having them shove me back in a tube and drain me until I can’t even sit up on my own? Or are you just going to ‘help’ by euthanizing the sick pony? Getting rid of the defective equipment?” Trixie glared. “I don’t need your help, Scootaloo.”

“I’m sorry,” blurted Scootaloo. “Trixie, I’m sorry.”

Trixie’s eyes widened, not in shock but in anger. “You’re SORRY?” She burst out in sardonic laughter. “She claims she’s ‘sorry’. ‘SORRY’. ‘Sorry’ she let them keep violating me to power their ship, perhaps? Or maybe she’s ‘sorry’ that she never once tried to do anything to free me, to help me get away.” Her eyes narrowed. “Or she’s just ‘sorry’ she would let me taste the life I could never, ever live before she sent me back to my slow and agonizing execution.”

“What choice did I have?” cried Scootaloo, stepping forward. Trixie took a step back. “Could I could have helped you? Maybe. Maybe I cold have- -but I was afraid. Afraid that they would hunt you down, or take you away from me- -”

“So you were afraid they would steal what was YOURS?”

“I was afraid they would take my friend! And hurt her! And I- -I didn’t know what else to do!”

“Friend?!” screamed Trixie. “Was I you’re ‘friend’ when you tried to rape me? Or when your subordinates drained me of every last drop of magic until I was dying in a puddle of my own blood and urine? NO. The only friend who came- -the only one who HELPED ME- -was Lady Sunset.”

“I’ve made mistakes, I know, but I’m trying! I care about you, Trixie! Why do you think I always tried to be there, why I gave my career to keep you near me! And don’t say it’s pity, because I’m not even nearly as strong as you. I’ve always admired you, and it makes me so sad- -”

“Sad? It makes you sad what you helped them do to me?”

Scootaloo sighed, and then took another step forward. This time Trixie did not retreat.

“I am tasked with defending my only true friend,” said Trixie. “If you take another step forward, I will kill you, Scootaloo.”

“Fine,” said Scootaloo. “Because I’m not leaving here without you. If you want to pass judgement on me? Go ahead. Just kill me. We both know I deserve it.”

“I mean it, Scootaloo! Just- -just leave! Go back to your life, and let me live mine!”

“I can’t do that,” said Scootaloo. “I don’t want to leave you. I WON’T leave you. Not like this. Not without you understanding how I feel about you.

Trixie took a sudden step forward and charged her horn. “I warned you,” she said.

Scootaloo sat down and spread her arms. “I wanted to be there when you died. I guess I can accept you being with me when I finally go.”

Trixie’s horn brightened, but her eyes started to flit around the room. She gritted her teeth, preparing to strike- -but then cried out in frustration as she allowed the energy in her horn to dissipate.

“I just…I can’t,” she said.

Scootaloo smiled- -but saw an armored streak flash by her. Xyuka charged at Trixie with impossible speed, and Trixie’s eyes narrowed. There was a flash of blue light, and Trixie ducked to her right. Xyuka stopped several paces from her, and Scootaloo stared wide eyed as Trixie produced the saddest smile that Scootaloo had ever seen.

Xyuka suddenly collapsed to her left knees. Blood gushed from her chest, pouring out onto the floor in a torrent. Trixie slowly turned to Scootaloo.

“So you were just trying to distract me,” she said, on the verge of tears. “Huh. And I actually believed you for a minute.”

“Trixie…”

Trixie started walking toward Xyuka. “And you. Thinking you could attack me like that. You’re not a Core like me. You don’t even have magic.”

Xyuka clutched her chest, and Trixie raised her head, preparing to bring down the final crushing blow. Instead of magic, though, only a small blue spark came out.

“Wh…what?”

A low sound began to emanate from Xyuka. At first Scootaloo thought it was some kind of horrible rattling caused by her mortal injury, but then as it rose, Scootaloo realized to her horror that it was a perverse version of her own laughter.

The pool of blood beneath Xyuka began to boil. It hissed and some as it concentrated into a viscous, mercury-like silver fluid that retracted toward Xyuka, pulling itself up her body and back into her veins.

“Magic, you say,” said Scootaloo. She raised her blood-stained cybernetic claw, revealing the object she now held. “Magic indeed.”

Trixie’s eyes widened when she saw the narrow blue spiral of bone, and suddenly became conscious of the trickle of blood running down her face from where her horn had formerly been attached. Then she screamed, both in the abject horror of seeing an essential part of her own body in a stranger’s hand and from the pain as the magic began to pour out of her body uncontrolled, hemorrhaging from the round wound on her forehead.

“NO!” she wailed. “My horn- -I can’t- -I’m not- -” Her voice choked off, and her eyes suddenly became bleary and unexpressive. “Lady…Sunset…”

Trixie collapsed onto the floor, and Scootaloo stared agape, horrified.

“T- -Trixie!” she squealed, rushing to her friend’s side and shaking her, desperately trying to wake her up.”

“She’s unconscious,” said Xyuka, crushing Trixie’s horn to dust in her claw. “She will recover. But I cauterized the growth plate. Her horn will never grow back. She will never use magic again.”

“You- -you- -HOW COULD YOU?!”

Xyuka just stared at Scootaloo, her face expressionless. “How could I? I just found the solution that didn’t have the courage to enact. I took her magic. She is no longer a Core. She is free.”

As if that were a tolerable explanation, Xyuka walked the remaining two meters into the orange glow beyond the darkened hallway. Scootaloo watched her go, and then checked Trixie’s neck with her hoof. Xyuka was right- -Trixie was still alive, but very weak. Gingerly, Scootaloo lifted the weak pony onto her back and followed Scootaloo.

“Soy-chet,” called Xyuka, her voice loudly echoing off the walls of the empty room. “I have returned.”

Scootaloo entered the room behind her, struggling to pull Trixie with her- -only to stare up in horror at the spherical abomination of eyes and teeth and malformed limbs that was floating in the center of the room.

“What in TARTARUS IS THAT?” she cried.

Xyuka ignored her. A jaundiced human woman with cloudy blue eyes stepped forward.

“Xyuka,” she said. “I see you- -” she paused, becoming conscious of the scene before her. She looked at Xyuka, and then at Scootaloo, clearly realizing the similarity. “So,” she said. “This is why you betrayed me…”

A substantial distance away from the Crimson Horizon, a male android sat in an immaculately clean control room surrounded by well-maintained but otherwise completely mismatched equipment. Since the 192 did not have a traditional viewscreen, he instead rapidly interpreted several monitors of code, interpreting the results and watching the events unfold outside.

Beside him, sharing one half of the same seat, an extremely weak and pale alicorn held him tightly and nuzzled his side, her own eyes scanning the code just as fast as his.

“It’s a mess out there, isn’t it?” said Four, treating it more as an observation than as a judgment on whether the events were positive or negative.

“Yeah,” said Marc Antony, gently rubbing the spot between the stumps where her wings had once been years before. “It is, isn’t it.”

The door to the room opened, and Bob stepped in. She immediately looked over the code herself, and began to open her mouth to address Marc Antony, but stopped when she saw Four.

“Four,” she said. “You should be in bed. Resting.”

“I tried that already,” said Four. “But I didn’t like being alone. I hate being alone. And I want to help.”

“She’s fine,” said Marc Antony. “I’m keeping an eye on her vitals, and I can administer any medication she needs. Like I have been since…since she needed my help.”

Bob smiled, and then leaned in close to Marc Antony’s face.

“Marc,” she said, sweetly. “I know you care so much for Four, and I really tolerate your relationship with her. And seeing as you secretly lust after my heavily syphilis infested loins constantly, I’m going to tell you this as nicely as possible. I don’t mind what you and Four do in private, but if you INSIST ON TOUCHING MY DAUGHTER’S WINGS IN FRONT OF ME I WILL SODOMIZE YOU TO DEATH WITH YOUR OWN SEVERED LEGS. Even though I love you. Got that?”

Marc Antony sighed, and removed his hand from Four’s back.

“Aww,” said Four, disappointed. “I like it when you touch me there.”

“I know, but I don’t want your mother to burst a blood vessel. Her blood reeks worse than the rest of her.”

“I smell excellent,” said Bob.

“Glad we have that settled,” said Bob, smiling. She turned her attention to Four. “I have something that will cheer you up, though.” Bob reached behind her and produced a human skull. Its white bone was marred with tooth marks, and part of the rear had been shattered for access to the delicious brain within. Despite being picked clean, though, the skull was still marked with blood and bits of Oriana’s tissue.

“Alas, poor Oriana, I knew her, Four!” said Bob. Then, laughing at her own joke, she held the skull out in front of her. “Hey, look at me,” she said in a bad impression of Oriana, moving the skull’s jaw. “I’m genetically perfect! But I have low self-esteem and get butthurt when Bob makes fun of me for being a slut even though I died a virgin! I sure was delicious, though!”

Four burst out laughing, but her laughter promptly collapsed into a coughing fit. Marc Antony glared at Bob, and lay Four on his lap, administering medication from an inhaler and a dose of medication injected into her neck. “Be careful, Bob!” he chastised. “She’s very fragile right now.”

“Yeah,” said Four. “I’d hate to laugh myself to death. That’s hilarious, though.”

“Well,” said Bob, putting the skull down and picking up a small metal box, “it might be too soon. At least you’re not like Seven. She was so angry about missing dinner that she tried to bite me. By I saved you your favorite bits.”

Four’s eyes widened. “You did?”

“Yup. Liver with those little salty crackers, and the fingies. I know how much you love the fingies.”

Four sat up, and then looked at Marc Antony. “I can’t right now,” she said. “The control room has to stay clean for the ship to run properly.”

“Oh, please,” said Marc Antony. “Go ahead. I trust you with eating in here. You have a respect for the equiptment.”

“Really?”

Marc Antony nodded. “You’ve been through a lot, and you need to eat to regain your strength. Besides, you saved my life, and I owe you a lot.”

Four looked up at him, wide-eyed and nearly crying with happiness at his recognition. She took the box from her mother and opened it. She removed a pale, blood-stained finger. She stuck it in her mouth and began gnawing the flesh off of it.

“I don’t know how Cerberus is going to react to this, though,” sighed Marc Antony. “Oriana was…expensive.”

“React? It was part of my mission parameters,” said Bob, shrugging. Lifting her shoulders revealed the fact that while she was wearing a Cerberus T-shirt, she was not wearing anything else. Marc Antony looked as though he was about to vomit. “If Lawson went rogue, I was supposed to end her. I think I actually get a bonus for doing it. They’ll probably just make a clone anyway.” Bob looked at the code on the monitors. “Hopefully this time they’ll build one right.”

“She’s really tasty, though,” said Four, crunching through a finger bone.

“Eh, she was hit or miss,” said Bob. “The legs were excellent, but she just wasn’t marbled evenly.”

“Just as long as you saved all her biotic implants,” said Marc Antony.

“Don’t worry, I’m not an idiot. Although Nine did swallow her amplifier, so we’re going to have to watch for that one for a few days.” Bob shrugged again, and this time Marc Antony avoided looking at her crotch.

“So,” said Bob after a moment. “You got the codes?”

“I did,” said Marc Antony. “And we were damn lucky our meat-puppet was a krogan. Anything else would have died before completing the transmission.”

“It’s not luck. It’s skill. No, I’m kidding. Totally luck. And the fact turians tend to go super homicidal when you fuck with their brains.”

“We weren’t the only ones accessing the database, though.”

Bob’s blue irises narrowed into vertical slits. “It wasn’t Janus, was it?”

“No. And those low-grades she keeps with her have probably wiped all our tracks by now. And, of course, Vakarian and Falare have been confirmed to survive- -but poor Councilor Kalejen succumbed to a tragic ‘accident’…”

“Good,” said Bob. “Because Janus would NOT be happy with what we’re about to do. Kalejen, probably, but she’s dead, so I don’t care.”

Marc Antony raised a blonde eyebrow. “You’re actually going to go through with this? You do realize that Cerberus will not be happy with it. At all. Not even remotely.”

“Unhappy? They’d probably execute me if they knew Or try to, I mean most Cerberus agents are nubs anyawy. But just think about how much fun it will be!”

“Fun indeed,” said Marc Antony. He stretched. “Alright, then. Four? If you’re up to it, you can do the honors.”

“I was born ready for this,” said Four. “Besides, I can do it faster than you with point seven percent less errors.”

“You wish! But- -try not to push yourself too hard, okay? I mean, I know I’m a synth, but I’d still feel absolutely terrible if I lost you.”

“Aww,” said Four. “I’d feel terrible if I lost you too, Marc.”

“If I had a gag reflex…” muttered Bob.

As Marc Antony shuddered at the thought of why Bob might not have a gag reflex- -which, most likely, was an adaptation for guzzling meat- -Four switched to her own chair. She paused to feel the sensation on her flank, and to run her hooves over the armrests. They had been cleaned very thoroughly to remove her blood, and they felt like new. She had never thought she would get to take that seat again.

Taking a breath, she focused her mind and generated a projection interface. It was somewhat draining in her state, but it was the only type of biotic discharge that she could actually do well and safely, and her skill and practice allowed her to compensate for her temporarily lessened health.

Across several million kilometers of space, the darkened hallways of the Crucible suddenly hummed to life. The computers activated, their dim glow illuminating the grotesque carnage that was all that remained of the humans and synths who had formerly crewed the facility. A few of the drones aboard looked toward the computers, curious as to why they had suddenly activated.

Then the code sequence ended. The computers powered down, and the drones looked at each other. There was the briefest of moments before the entire power supply of the crucible suddenly activated, burning through the incomplete connections that linked it to the Crimson Horizons as it fired.

Sunset Shimmer’s eyes widened. “NO!” she cried, grabbing for her head. “NO! What- -not now! NOT NOW! It’s too early, I’m not ready!” She closed her eyes and concentrated. The connections were not yet established, but she had to make it work. Summoning all her strength, she channeled the catalytic reaction of the Crucible into herself. It had to work- -and it had to work now.

Starlight watched as the portal suddenly ignited with energy from the Crimson Horizon. It expanded, fully materializing into the universe. The resulting shockwave vaporized what was left of the Earth, shattering it into fragments expelled at nearly light-speed. The Alliance fleet did not stand a chance; any ships that were sitting in the same plane as the disk-like portal were consumed by the debris cloud and torn to shreds.

The frothing vortex within the portal began to shift as well. Just as the shockwave was pushing through the remnants of the Earth, the inner material of the portal imploded- -and the Gate opened. Starlight stared in awe through it, seeing a different Sun through the planet-sized portal, and a distant green world slowly crossing into view. It was the first time in nearly thirty years that she had seen her homeworld, Equestria Prime- -and she knew that it would be its last.

“Holy. Fucking. Crap,” exclaimed Jack in awe, watching beside Starlight. Then she leaned forward. “What the hell is that?”

The mechanical lenses in Starlight’s eyes twisted, and she watched as an entire fleet of ships began to pour through the portal. Thousands of fighters poured into Alliance space, followed by a flotilla of heavy battlecruisers, all in formation. In the center of the formation, all alone and the only one of its kind, stood a large ship with a unique swept design and a familiar energy signature.

“The Harmony!” cried Starlight, smiling and pointing. “It’s the Harmony!”

Her joy was short lived, though. From across space, she could feel something else- -a sudden dark surge of magic and energy pouring out of the Crimson Horizon. Something was happening, and from the feel of it, Starlight realized that her hope had been far too premature.

Rainbow Dash stared through the front window of the Harmony’s bridge, her eyes closely watching as the magical overlay counted down the distance to their target and the coordinates of her ship.

“Celestia damn it,” she said to herself, looking up at the Crimson Horizon. “That is one UGLY fatherbucker.” She took a long swig from a bottle of gin and then smashed it on the floor, shattering it into millions of tiny pieces of glass. “LET’S DO THIS!”

She stepped forward on the bridge, watching her ships move into their positions. “Frigate unite six, twelve, eight, seven, forward into her shields. Break her open. Fighter groups associated with destroyers G and Q, draw her fire and get the destroyers into position for when we open her up. Slam her with everything we’ve got! If we lose here, she takes Equestria!”

The Fleet responded effortlessly to Rainbow Dash’s command, charging the ship. As they did, Rainbow Dash checked a readout of information, taking inventory of the ships at her command- -and fouond one extra.

“Scootaloo,” she said, smiling. She had no way to know, of course. There had been no reports or information relayed to her- -but she still knew. She knew her sister was in the battle with her.

Twilight suddenly appeared beside Rainbow Dash, representing herself as an abstract hologram as always.

“Sorry about the glass,” said Rainbow Dash. “I got excited- -”

“Rainbow Dash,” said Twilight, her voice dead-serious. “We have a problem.”

“What is it?”

“That ship. The energy signature coming off of it- -there is a one hundred percent probability that it contains a dimensional sheer cannon, and it is currently approaching full charge.”

“Well then,” said Rainbow Dash. “We’re going to have to bum-rush it before it goes off. Hot damn, I love a challenge.”

“No,” said Twilight. “Calculations indicate that the discharge will occur in less than thirty two seconds. We do not have adequate time to disable the device or to deactivate the transmission portal. The cannon’s predicted output is several million times greater than my own, with upper limit inestimable. If it fires at its current trajectory, the Equestria Prime System will be lost.”

“Then you want us to what, give up? I’m not having that,” said Rainbow Dash. She turned to the screen and glared at the hideous, debris-encapsulated enemy ship. “We will win. We have to.”

“No,” said Twilight. “I have created a solution.” She paused, and then looked Rainbow Dash in the eye- -and Rainbow Dash instantly understood what she was thinking.

“Wait, Twilight, no- -”

“I’m sorry, Rainbow Dash.”

There was a flash of violet light, and Rainbow Dash disappeared, teleported to safety. Twilight was left alone. She mimicked taking a deep breath, and then ordered the fleet out of the path of the beam. She spent her remaining twelve seconds reinforcing her shields to maximum and walking to the edge of the bridge, looking out the window. She had never realized until that point just how beautiful space was. Her only regret was never having been able to see it with her own eyes.

A small explosion caused Starlight to jump in surprise. She momentarily thought that another hole had formed in the ship, or that one of the coolant lines had burst. Instead of what little air they had left escaping or the room filling with toxic gas, though, a pile of pink-colored ponies suddenly dropped out of the air, thudding against the ground and looking confused.

“Um…what?” said Starlight, looking up at Jack.

“Get off me!” bellowed a muffled voice from beneath the pile. There was some pushing and shoving, and one of the pink ponies rolled off the pile to reveal a rainbow-maned mare.

“You!” cried Starlight. “What are you- -”

“Damn it, Twilight!” Rainbow Dash looked around, confused as to where she was- -and her eyes felon Starlight. “You have to stop her!”

“Stop what, I don’t- -”

“Twilight! That ship’s about to fire, and she’s going to try to block the beam with the Harmony!”

Starlight’s eyes widened, and she looked out again, taking several readings on the now geometrically growing energy output of the Crimson Horizon. She did the math- -and the math did not bode well.

“Oh no,” she said. “If she does that, she can’t possibly- -”

A feeling like a railroad spike had been shoved through her head suddenly overtook her, and both Starlight and Jack cried out in pain. Through the window, Starlight saw a beam of impossibly bright light slice through space, emerging through the Crimson Horizon’s protective shell and slamming into the Harmony. The beam momentarily stopped, dampened by the Harmony’s shields, but they promptly began to slowly shatter, exposing the ship beneath to the energy discharge.

There was nothing Starlight could do except watch- -save for one thing. The right thing.

“Jack,” she said. “I’m sorry. But you can’t come with me on this one.”

Starlight took a deep breath, and then teleported.

Normally, teleportation was instantaneous. There was no layover in an interdimensional plane; a mass simply ceased to exist in one location at the same time as it began existing in another. Starlight had formulated various mathematical theories as to how that was possibly, largely involving the subject of overcoming energy barriers of quantized motion. What she felt as she teleported into the Harmony, though, defied all of that math.

It felt as though it took time. Minutes, hours; it was not really possible to tell. During that time, Starlight was nowhere- -a mind trapped in the space between her mass materializing in one place and vanishing from another. The space that she normally crossed effortlessly had become tumultuous and fragmented; it was as though she were trying to tear her way through a storm of magic.

On an instinctual level, Starlight understood how dangerous this was- -and yet she dove in anyway. Space seemed to crumble and explode around her, and it took every ounce of her mental capacity to perform the complex calculations to keep her body from being torn apart as she moved. As she got deeper and deeper, the interference only got worse- -and the channel back only became more and more degraded.

Still, Starlight pushed herself to the limit, diving into the depths of reality and defying the material destruction around her. For a moment, she through it was too late. She had waited too long, and the damage was already too extensive. Flailing around in the storm, she began to panic, wondering if she was in the wrong place. There was no way to guide herself, and she was already so deep that she might not get back- -and she did not want to die for nothing.

Then, suddenly, her hooves closed around something warm and soft. She latched on, pulling the body of the other pony close to her, and merged her into the signal parameters, taking into account her mass and location. She began to pull them both back.

It was already too late, though. The channel had been destroyed by the sheer force of magic cutting through space. There was no direct path back. This did not deter Starlight, though. Knowing the full consequences of what she was doing, she funneled every ounce of energy she had into pushing her way back out- -and then pushed harder.

Hours seemed to pass, or perhaps just seconds. Starlight could feel her destination growing close, but it was still too far. The entropy had just become too much. The world was too slippery; there was no way for herself to pull herself out. With her strength failing, Starlight felt herself being pulled back into the turbulence of the Crimson Horizon’s weapons discharge.

Then she felt a pair of hands on her shoulder, and a familiar biotic presence.

“Starlight!” called Jack, apparently across an infinite divide, her half-teleported self inadvertently acting as a tether back to reality. “Don’t you dare leave me! Not like this!”

She tugged, and Starlight felt space start to resolve. She gave her last to help Jack, and with a herculean effort, emerged back into real space.

Starlight dropped onto the ground. Next to her, a narrow-framed violet alicorn stood on wobbly hooves. She blinked as the crystal implants in her spine shattered, unable to maintain their forms outside of the casing that normally contained her.

“Holy fatherbucking bucking buck,” said Rainbow Dash. “Tw…Twilight?”

Starlight smiled, impressed by her ability. What drifted to her mind instead of pride, though, was an odd thought.

“Hey,” she said, confusedly sniffing the air. “Who’s cooking hamburger?” She looked at the others, and saw their wide eyes, and then realized what it was. “Oh,” she said. “That’s me…” She looked up at Jack and became aware that her heart had not yet taken a beat since she had gotten back. “I think…I think I’ve died…”

Then she collapsed into a pool of her own blood.