Chapter 6: Spectre

“So this is a Hermes class ship,” said Zedok, stepping onto the bridge. “It’s pretty nice.”

“It’s adequate,” said Starlight.

“Adequate? This is one of the most advanced ships in the galaxy, short of anything in the Alliance military or a goddamn Reaper.”

“Its reaction time has several milliseconds of lag, the acceleration is clunky, the long-range scanners have poor resolution, and everything is designed for a synth. I can’t even reach the high shelves.”

“So what you’re saying is that your old ship was better?”

“It was the best. And I never had to worry about landing. Or cleaning up vomit.”

“It’s not her fault,” said Zedok, referring to Sbaya, who was desperately clinging to the inside of a closet near the rear of the ship. “She’s never flown before. Yahg don’t fly.”

“She’s not really a yahg. You know that, right?”

“You tell that to her.” Zedok sat down on the floor on one side of the bridge and sighed. “Parenting is hard. I had no idea my dad had to put up with this.”

“If I’m not mistaken, asari do tend to go through a rebellious stage in their first few centuries.”

“That’s the problem. She isn’t.”

“Isn’t? How is that a problem, then? What, do you want her to be stripping on a table on Omega?”

“No, but…It’s just not normal. I don’t know if I did something wrong. When I was her age, I was all about guns and combat and adventure, but all she seems to want to do is settle down and farm.”

“I wouldn’t know,” admitted Starlight. “I don’t have children. And I spent my own teen years sealed in a tank powering a starship. She seems adjusted to me.”

“Yeah,” said Zedok, removing a gun from her back and inspecting the trigger mechanism. “I just wish she would, I don’t know…”

“Be more like you?”

Zedok frowned. “Well, when you say it like that, I sound like my father.”

Starlight eyed Zedok’s weapon. “What exactly is that?” she asked.

“This? It’s a singularity rifle. It’s based roughly on yahg weaponry. Sort of. They were something Lyra was working on before she…”

Starlight closed her eyes. “Lyra too?”

“Yeah. Aneurism. It happened very quickly. A side effect of having an artificial heart for so long. But, I kind of think she saw it coming. It’s why she built these.”

“Well, just keep it out of sight. This is going to be hard enough without risking a firefight.”

“Trust me, it will work.”

“It didn’t last time.”

“That was because Jack didn’t have all those shiny religious insignias on her uniform. Or lack of uniform, I guess. Come to think of it, why am I not naked right now?”

“Because you have something she never did.”

Zedok appeared confused. “And what’s that?”

“A bust size.”

“Well, I guess that’s something you and I don’t actually have in common, then, isn’t it?”

Starlight blushed. Zedok started laughing. From somewhere in the rear of the ship, there was a sound of low and nervous weeping followed by a spatter of fluid against the floor.

The air rushed as Starlight’s ship descended through the atmosphere of Agrostation Six. This time there was no cloak field or a descent through an abandoned forest. Instead, she approached a designated landing pad surrounded by ornate, low ground-cover gardens.

Because of her ship’s relatively small size, the ship was dwarfed by the smooth stone pad that surrounded it. From the area normally reserved for the exhaust blowoff of larger shuttles, three figures approached, bracing against the strongly scented ion wind.

Then the ship settled. Almost as soon as it did, the primary airlock engaged and slid open. Two asari and a pony watched as a crew of the same racial composition stepped off onto the pad below.

“High Priestess Starlight,” said Artum, smiling and stepping forward toward the approaching pony. From his perspective, she was profoundly impressive: instead of a standard all-white Pegasus, she was a stately pale violet unicorn mare. The more reflective elements of her armor gleamed in the setting sun, and her cloak billowed in the late-evening breeze. “We were not anticipating your arrival. If you had called in advance, we could have prepared a welcoming committee.”

“Quite the opposite,” said Starlight. “I am surprised to be greeted by you, Subcouncilor.” She looked up at Lordraia. Lordraia smiled, but turned the injured parts of her face away from Starlight and grasped at the part of her robes that covered the support splint over her left arm. “And Subcouncilor, I see.”

“You are the highest emissary of our most beloved ally, the voice of the Princess herself,” said Artum. “And…on a more personal level, I hope it is not inappropriate, you are a hero to my people.”

“I would hardly call myself that.”

Artum shook his head. “You allowed my Equestrian brothers and sisters to own the means of our own production. Just meeting you is an honor.”

Zedok’s electronic eyes fell on Lordraia. “What happened?” she asked.

Lordraia paused, considering if she should answer. “There was an attack,” she said.

Starlight’s eyes widened. “Where? How?”

Artum looked around, as if to see if anyone was listening. “We’re not supposed to tell you this, but I think it is acceptable if you know.”

“I don’t want to know if it jeopardizes our diplomatic relationship.”

“As acting Thessian Councilor, I’m making the executive decision.”

“Acting…oh Celestia…”

Artum nodded. “Earlier today, we were attacked by a terrorist organization calling itself ‘Thebe’. Our Councilor, Sha’eta, was killed.”

“An assassination?”

“No,” said Lordraia, perhaps too firmly.

“What she means is,” continued Artum, “that although there was an initial blast, their real target appears to have been an artifact in transportation. The explosion was a distraction.”

“An artifact,” said Zedok, almost sighing. “Anytime anyone says ‘artifact’, you know what they mean.”

“What?”

“He means it was Reaper.”

“I cannot confirm or deny- -”

“It was,” said Lordraia. “It was an illegal fragment of what is believed to be Harvester neural architecture. It was brought in by a baterian vessel, but the paper trail leads back to the turians. They were attempting to transport it to Sur’Kesh.”

“And why would they do that?”

“Their goal was noble,” protested Lordraia. “They were attempting to help develop a cure for the Outbreak.”

“With a piece of Reaper?”

“You don’t sound convinced,” said Lordraia, looking directly at Zedok. Zedok’s eyes narrowed.

“No. Because I trust the salarians about one tenth of the distance I can throw them. They already killed themselves by letting out a prototype bioweapon. Now you’re giving them Reaper tech.”

“That is a conspiracy theory,” said Artum firmly. “There is NO evidence of that. It is currently accepted that the Outbreak was the result of an Alliance attack.”

“Yeah. On the smartest species of the galaxy. And for some reason NOT on Thessia and Palaven. Please. If you had any real proof of that, you’d be in the middle of losing a war right now.”

“And who, exactly, are you?”

“Vuhlig Zedok. Of Parnack.”

“Parnack?” said Lordraia, suddenly far more interested. “The planet of the yahg? But nobody can go there! It’s quarantined!”

“Not to mention, Subcouncilor,” noted the elder asari standing behind the Thessian Councilors. “That she has a krogan name.”

Lordraia blinked. “You’re half krogan? That is extremely rare!”

“Yes,” said Zedok crossing her arms. “And my daughter is half yahg.”

“You- -you have a daughter?”

Zedok leaned to the side, revealing Sbaya, who was hiding behind her. “Vuhlig Sbayadvlog.”

Sbaya lifted one hand. “H- -hi,” she said, timidly.

Lordraia looked at Sbaya, and her eyes immediately went to the girl’s chest. “You’re my age,” she said, suddenly smiling.

“How- -how can you tell? And why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh! I don’t mean to be rude, it’s just that, well, you might very well be the first of your kind! There’s never been a half-yahg asari before. But that’s not a bad thing, of course. I myself am half turian!”

“Oh,” said Sbaya. She paused, and then looked to her mother. “What’s a turian?”

“It’s her first time off Parnack,” explained Zedok.

“No!” said Lordraia. “You’ve never been offworld?”

“I’ve never even left the region around my family farm. Except to go to the city once when I was younger.” She paused. “I didn’t like it, though.”

“Oh, well, I simply MUST give you a tour!” Lordraia reached out and took Sbaya by her arm. “I almost never get a chance to interact with asari my own age, especially ones with such exquisite mottling patterns! And are those- -scales?”

“No,” lied Sbaya, covering the back of her neck with her hand.

“Go with her,” said Zedok. You need the socialization.”

“No I don’t.”

“You seem to be about the same size as me…That’s it! I think I would have a dress that would fit you perfectly!”

“Dress? Why?”

“Well, darling, your current clothing is…bland. Drab. Dull. Not that that’s a bad thing. I suppose

“Very few asari are actually interested in the workings of panglactic government these days,” noted Artum. It’s so nice to see someone who respects the significance of what we are trying to do here.”

Sbaya whimpered as she was dragged away. Artum watched her go and, still watching, addressed Zedok and Starlight. “Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“She needs this. She was at the site of the explosion. She saw our Councilor die, as well as several turian security forces near her at the time. Her biotics protected her, but only barely. She has unparalleled dexterity, but not her mother’s strength.”

“Few have Falare’s strength,” noted the pale-blue asari standing behind Artum.

“You saw the same thing,” said Starlight. “You weren’t effected?”

“My kind have been bred by your kind for millennia to experience as little trauma as possible when we are culled. Death does not really affect me.” He started walking. “Come, please. This planet does not naturally have predators, but it does become chilly in the evening.”

Starlight fell in line with Artum, and Zedok with the asari guardian.

“I really wish I could be here under more auspicious circumstances,” said Starlight.

“Of course. I did not expect you were coming here strictly to visit. Although I would be very pleased if you would attend a Council meeting sometime in the future.”

Starlight shook her head. “Twilight has a strong stance against even showing the appearance of interfering with your government. Besides. If I did, then I would need to attend the equivalent in the Alliance. And I have heard that the Empress is slightly…harsh.”

“Then what brings you to the Hall?”

“A criminal has escaped imprisonment and fled to your galaxy. She is wanted for heresy.”

“Heresy? That’s an unusual crime.”

“It is the most severe crime. She has made an attempt on the life of Princess Twilight, and murdered a Priestess. One who was a very dear friend of mine.”

“Oh, I am sorry.” Artum slowed, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “But…is there a possibility that this heinous criminal might have a relationship with the Thebe terrorist organization?”

“Not likely,” replied Starlight. “She will have almost no knowledge of the modern world and no contact with outside forces.” She paused.

“I see,” said Artum. “Well, in any event, this is a dire situation. From my knowledge, Equestria is an overwhelmingly peaceful place.”

“Yes,” lied Starlight. “It is.”

“But your criminals…I am aware of what happened to Earth.”

“Sunset Shimmer was a unique case. That said, the heretic Scootaloo is an experienced naval officer and Priestess. She has the potential to be extremely dangerous.”

“I understand. And we will spare no expense to help you.”

“No,” said Starlight. “I didn’t know that you were having your own difficulties- -”

“We have more than enough Spectres to investigate what little of a lead we currently have with the Thebe situation. I can spare you at least one. Both for our own protection from this foul Scootaloo, and as a gesture of cooperation with Princess Twilight.”

“I am sure she will be grateful. I will inform her of the Council’s loyalty and generosity.”

Artum smiled. “Well, we have to set ourselves apart from the Alliance somehow.”

The high-speed tram slowed in its track, and Starlight steadied herself as it came to a stop. Like the Citadel before it, Agrostation Six was the center of all galactic operations. The Hall was the center of the galactic government, but other functions were performed off-site. Spectre Operations was one of those locations.

Artum was the first to exit the tram, and Starlight followed him. Zedok and the asari guardian followed.

“So,” said Zedok, taking the step down onto the utilitarian concrete floor. “You’re a Justicar, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” said Samara, simply.

“I didn’t think there were any of you left.”

“There are some. But few. Many were lost in the Reaper War, and many after. But there will always be more.”

“Assuming anyone wants to memorize five thousand lines of code, sure.”

Samara’s large eyes slowly turned toward Zedok. “At your age, I am going to assume you are very foolish. More so than you are brave.”

“You don’t like me making fun of your ‘Code’?”

“No. I neither like it nor dislike it. It is simply that precious few are willing to insult a Justicar to her face.”

“Don’t get in a fight, Zedok,” said Starlight from ahead. “Your face just barely fixed itself. I would hate to see it ruined again.”

“Her face would hardly be her concern,” said Artum. “Samara is a legend, even among Justicars.”

“Samara?” said Zedok, recognizing the name. “As in THE Samara?”

“It is not an uncommon name,” said Samara.

“As in the one who couldn’t manage to beat Jack Naught in a fight?”

Samara paused, for the first time showing an emotion apart from stoic boredom, if only for a moment. “You know of Jack?”

“She was a close friend of mine. A mentor, even.”

“Then that does indeed explain your blatant disrespect for the Code. And, knowing that, I would strongly recommend that you do not attempt to fight me.”

“Because I might be a challenge?”

“No. Because you’re liable to detonate yourself before I can even draw my blade. That, and I would prefer not to engage the student of a woman I considered a friend.”

“You knew Jack?” said Starlight, looking over her shoulder.

“Yes,” said Samara. “We joined the human Commander Shepard in battle against the Reapers. If I recall, she and him were lovers for a time. They were…loud.”

“You were jealous,” joked Zedok.

Samara stopped. “Yes. Admittedly. In some sense. But I have had three daughters by three lovers. All are dead now. One slain by my own hand, one taken by the Reapers, and one who gave her life to repent for my sins. All ardat’yakshi. As a Justicar, I regret nothing. But as a mother…” She trailed off. “I am sure you can understand my hesitation to produce another.”

“Well, crap,” said Zedok. “You are a HUGE downer. Jack was right.”

Samara smiled and continued walking. “I wish she were still alive. I would not go easy on her, this time.”

They were led slightly further to a large door.

“No guards?” said Starlight, looking to Artum.

“A facility filled with Spectres? You must be joking.”

He lifted his hoof and projected his omnitool. The door recognized his presence, and the hologram in the center changed color as it began to open.

The facility inside was far busier than the largely empty hallways outside. Starlight was struck by the sheer number of aliens as well as their variety. As she and her group entered, a pair of heavily armored drell and a turian with substantial facial scars stepped out. On her left, an elcor and a baterian were engaging heated words over a large projected map. Beyond them, the largest and most heavily armored krogan that Starlight had ever seen emerged from the armory holding a gun almost as large as he was, only to be chastised by a hanar for not having taken a proper sword.

“Is that a hanar Spectre?” asked Zedok.

“Yes,” said Artum, proudly. “At present, all Council races are fielding Spectres, apart from the salarians and the geth. The geth, of course, have their own parallel Infiltration agency.”

“I thought geth don’t infiltrate,” said Starlight.

“They don’t. At least not intentionally.” Artum reached out and grabbed the shoulder of a passing volus.

“Acting Councilor,” he said.

“Have you seen Jurenu?”

“SHHK- -that way,” he said, pointing. “In the back.”

Artum nodded and led the group to where the volus had pointed. Starlight noticed that several of the Spectres had stopped their activities to watch them pass. Many of them were focused on Samara, but a smaller number seemed highly intrigued by Zedok.

The region the volus had pointed to was far less populated. From what Starlight could infer, it was intended as a large system of computer interfaces.

“Spectre Jurenu,” called Artum. “Are you here?”

“Yes,” said a voice from behind the stacks. Then the Spectre emerged, and Starlight felt her eyes widen. She had not known precisely what she was expecting, but the male voice had already confused her slightly- -but what she saw she was not prepared for. He was a unicorn- -a pure white unicorn, with an all-white mane and gleaming red eyes.

“Holy Luna,” she swore. She turned sharply toward Artum. “You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”

Artum smiled mischievously. “We did.”

“You realize that this is on par with heresy,” said Starlight, firmly. “That this violates- -”

“A number of Equestrian laws, yes.” He turned and looked Starlight in the eye. “But we’re NOT equestrian. The laws that bind our sister corporation do not bind us. The asari have no qualms about allowing us to bring unicorns into our eugenics program.”

“But- -”

“My genetic material is not even derived from an Equestrian pony, if that provides you with any confidence,” said Jurenu, stepping down toward Starlight. He was taller than most breeders, and handsome in the identical mass-produced way that all breeder stallions were. Starlight could not help but think that he looked just slightly familiar, though. “The genetic material provided originated in the Crystal Empire. And I assure you, our ancestor was more than willing to provide it.”

“Gross,” said Zedok.

“Indeed,” agreed Samara.

“Jurenu is the epitome of his production line,” said Artum, ignoring the asari. “We are already more intelligent than outbred ponies, but he exceeds us by far. In addition, he is an experienced adept specializing in espionage and data extraction.”

“He’s an analyst,” said Starlight, dismissively.

“Excuse me?”

“I can see his screen from here,” she said, pointing. “He locked the main windows, but I can see the programs running.” Starlight looked up at Jurenu. “Do you even have field experience?”

“Of course. I have run over sixty high-stakes missions with a ninety-seven percent mission success rate. Although, yes, computer work is something of a specialty of mine.” He turned his red eyes toward Artum. “And with regard to that, yes, Ms. Glimmer is correct. I have completed an analysis of what little tissue Justicar Samara was able to recover.”

“And?” said Artum.

Jurneu did not even bother to doubt if he should reveal information concerning the investigation with Starlight and Zedok present. He obeyed the orders he was given. “Genetic tests indicate that it was primarily quarian. However, there was evidence of heavy modification.”

“Modification? What kind of modification?”

“Firstly, there was a system imbedded in the subject’s marrow. The structure is modern, but bears a strong resemblance to a type of technology originally developed by Cerberus for reasons that have since been lost to history.”

“Its purpose?”

“Unknown…but I can hypothesize that it was part of the system that allowed the subject to exhibit biotic properties. The marrow samples showed extremely high concentrations of element zero, as well as non-quarian genetic sequences. Based on my analysis of the structure, the DNA was likely created synthetically. It contains gene fragments of something, but it is too damaged and…incomplete to be recovered.”

“Excellent work,” said Artum, almost bragging. “As I told you, High Priestess. He performs excellent work.”

“He performed the job a quant would normally do. I’ll need to see his field performance before I can make any further judgements.”

“Of course. And you will.” Artum turned toward Jurneu. “Spectre, you have done excellent work, but I am removing you from the Thebe case. I would like you to assist Starlight Glimmer in tracking down an Equestrian criminal hiding within our galaxy.”

“Of course,” said Jurneu without hesitation. He smiled at Starlight. “I would be happy to assist you in this important task.”

“You seem a bit eager.”

“I think he think’s your hot,” whispered Zedok, loudly.

“That would be crude,” said Jurneu, “but, admittedly, Ms. Glimmer is quite attractive. For an outbred. And I do not mean that in a nonprofessional sense; I myself am only attracted to my sisters.”

“That’s even more disconcerning, though.”

“He means breeder mares,” clarified Artum.

“Well, it’s still weird.”

“As for my enthusiasm, it is not only in the hopes of ridding our beautiful galaxy of a criminal scourge, but to prove to you the effectiveness of the Thessian eugenics program.”

“So I can report it back to Equestria?”

“If you deem my performance adequate, yes.”

“You will also be given any resources we can spare,” said Artum. “And Jurneu comes equipped with all the resources that befit his position. Trust me, High Priestess. He is one of our best.”

“Any resources are appreciated,” said Starlight. She looked up at the breeder unicorn. He seemed to blink less than a normal pony, and he had the same smile that all his people seemed to have most of the time. Starlight herself had nothing against breeders as a people, at least not in the sense of the anti-breeder racism that many ponies still harbored. She did not see them as less than ponies, but rather as somewhat unnerving. They had originally been produced as slaves, but under Twilight’s rule had morphed into a quasi-religious order of near fanatics obsessed with advancement through controlled breeding. Seeing a pure-white unicorn staring back at her- -a being that, three hundred years ago, would have been a ruler by his coat color alone- -made their ideological zealotry suddenly seem all-too-real.

Jurneu stepped down from the computer racks and deactivated his computer terminal with a small surge of violet magic. “I need to visit the armory first,” he said, falling into step with Starlight and Zedok. “It will only take me…” He trailed off, looking up at the group of busy Spectres moving throughout the room. His expression changed to one of equal parts amusement and hesitation. “Well…that’s unusual.”

Starlight looked up, and she saw something approaching them through the crowd. Exactly what it was, though, was something that Starlight could not ascertain just by looking at it. She felt herself stop, and she could not help but wonder if she should be afraid or not.

It was approximately the size of a normal person, if not slightly larger. Likewise, it was bipedial, as were most species in the Milk Path galaxy. Its body, though, was not organic. Not even slightly. It appeared to be mechanical, although it was difficult to tell through its thick armor. Starlight initially suspected that it was a synth, but she knew from experience that all synths invariably looked humanoid. This thing looked something more like a turian.

Most of the Spectres moved out of the way. Almost all of them either looked at it with complete unabashed surprise, although a few of the more experienced among them looked upon it with the same combination of emotions that Jurneu had: as though this were indeed something worth watching, but also something that needed to be watched only from a great distance.

“Hey!” said the large krogan Spectre as the approaching being bumped into it. “Watch where you’re- -”

Before he could finish his sentence, he was thrown across the room. The mechanical creature seemed to expend almost no effort, and several Spectres stepped out of the way as the krogan slid past them.

“Vuhlig Zedok,” it said, calling across the room and pointing. “YOU!”

“Zedok, what the HELL did you do?” whispered Starlight.

“I have no idea,” said Zedok.

The creature suddenly moved forward much faster- -unnaturally fast, even. If Starlight had any doubt that it was a machine, she had none when she saw it moved. Within seconds, it was towering over her, staring down through a darkened visor and several asymmetrical precision optics. Starlight saw Samara reach for her sword.

“Don’t even think about it, Justicar,” said the creature. “I don’t have a particular desire to fillet an old woman.”

“So boastful. Would you like to test me, child?”

“Bah. No point. Your body is weak and organic. So very slow and pointless.”

“Spectre, what is the meaning of this?” snapped Artum.

The machine pointed at Zedok’s forehead. “HER,” it said. Then, slowly, it looked down at Starlight, its optics refocusing. “And her…Whatever they are doing, I want in.”

“But you are already assigned- -”

“Then I’m changing my assignment.”

“You can’t- -”

“It is sometimes wise to avoid pointless battles,” said Samara, as though she were simply offering an abstract adage with no relation to the current situation.

“Fine,” said Artum, reluctantly. “But you need to submit the proper forms to the turian Councilors- -”

“Yeah, fine, I’ll get to it.”

“Wait a minute,” said Zedok, annoyed. She looked up at the machine. “Who the hell are you to butt in on our mission?! Do I even know you?”

“What, Zedok, you don’t recognize this sexy face?” said the machine, pointing. “Because I’m pretty sure you wanted to do me back when this was all organic. With ‘all’ being used very, very loosely.”

“I think I would recognize a face like that. Plus, I don’t go for synths.”

“No. You have a yahg fetish.” The machine lifted its hand and snapped its fingers. Its surface seemed to shift as a high-grade body-hologram formed around it. It was in flux for a moment, but then Starlight watched the image of body armor form. Within seconds, the machine’s internal metal skeleton had assumed the form of a young turian- -a turian with a familiar face.

Starlight’s eyes widened. “Buck me in the plot and call me Fluttershy…B…Berry?”

Jurneu covered his mouth as he almost snorted trying to suppress a laugh. “ ‘Berry’? The great Spectre Tyros’s first name is ‘Berry’?”

Beri’s eyes narrowed- -or at least, the holographic version of them did. She pointed at the white unicorn. “Don’t toy with me, Thessian. And put some damn clothes on, you disgust me!” She paused, and then turned back to Starlight. “And who the hell is Fluttershy? And what in Saren’s name is a plot?”

Starlight was barely paying attention. “But- -but- -” she turned to Zedok quickly. “How- -how long to turians live?”

“I don’t know,” said Zedok, shrugging.

“Usually around eighty years,” said Samara. “Although few that I have met have ever made it that far.”

“But then how are you even here? Why aren’t you dead?”

“She is,” said Artum, darkly. “She has been. For a long time.”

“Sort of, yeah,” said Beri. She tapped her head. “Sixty four percent. That’s how much of my brain is left. Everything else? Sexy, sexy machine.”

“You’re a cyborg?”

“Not just any cyborg,” said Jurneu. “The most advanced cyborg ever created. Spectre Tyros is something of a legend. The oldest living Spectre. The things she has seen in her life would fill a multi-volume biography. I would know. I edited it.”

“And I think I have one more chapter left in me,” said Beri. She looked to Starlight. “I don’t wake up for just anything. But whatever it is that got you out of your royal-consort job on Equestria? I want in on it. Because if it’s anything like last time, it is going to be…impressive.”

“What happened last time?” asked Jurneu.

“We kind of blew up Earth,” said Zedok.

“Oh…wait, WHAT?”

“Sure,” groaned Starlight. “You can probably do…something. And I’m not a consort, I’m a Priestess. There is a difference.”

“What, Priestesses just cuddle the Princess?”

“I’d like to cuddle a Princess,” admitted Jurneu. He paused. “Actually, that’s probably a genetic artifact. Weird…”

“Eh,” said Beri. “Jurneu, come with me.” She turned around and started walking toward the armory. “If you’re going to live long enough to cuddle a Princess, you’re going to need some guns. The real good stuff. It’s on me. It’s not like anyone’s going to inherit this ungodly pile of credits. I had better use it somewhere.”

Jurneu smiled and followed her, seemingly glad to be working with another Spectre. Starlight put her hoof to her head. She was beginning to develop a migraine.

“Are you sure about this?” asked Zedok. “She wasn’t exactly, you know, useful the last time we worked together. And I don’t think having half of her brain replaced with circuits and VI systems is going to be doing her any favors.”

“We need all the help we can get,” said Starlight. “Scootaloo needs to die. And she is not going to be easy to take down. Not easy at all.”