Flight to Nowhere

Chapters

Mistaken
Hooves
Smoke
Burn
Shout
Chairs

Mistaken

“I’m home!”

He chuckles at his own announcement; Thiz won’t be home for another- he glances at the clock- forty-five minutes. At least, that is; he never knows when his brother stays late until he gets home. Thus, he declines to allow the door any significant swing beyond that required to let himself into their empty home, and locks it behind him.

Once inside, he makes his way to the kitchen, where he sets his bag on the table before popping the fridge to prepare himself dinner. Unfortunately, neither of them has had much time to make any elaborate meals lately; thus, he satisfies himself with, let’s see, that leftover pizza looks good enough.

Once he completes the appeasement of his appetite, he retrieves his bag from the table and makes the living room into his next destination. Here he removes a book from his bag, kicks back on his recliner, opens it to his bookmark, summons his tea, and sets about reading…

Only, unfortunately, his tea doesn’t come- rather, his ‘no tea’ comes, as Thiz would call it: His empty teacup. After taking a sip, he scowls at the mug- and back to the door into the kitchen. With a raised eyebrow, he sends a moment of his energy on an inquisition after the teapot; turns out it’s empty. Fortunately, this takes only five seconds to fix; unfortunately, the teapot is now full of ice-cold water. Meh. Another five seconds, while it and a tea bag are floating towards him, makes it steaming hot water. As it reaches him, he inserts the bag and diverts the energies surrounding him into a minor time distortion spell, reducing the steeping time from ten minutes to ten seconds. Finally, he dismisses the teabag, pours his tea, and returns the pot to the kitchen.

Now, he takes a sip of his tea, and starts reading. He normally doesn’t consider himself to be a bookworm, but this book falls right into his interest zone. After all, what part of metapositional hyperspace manufacturing wouldn’t interest him? He still thinks the name is unnecessarily long- ‘pocket dimension’ describes them quite well- but regardless. Earlier this week, he’s finally made one himself. It had been unstable- it collapsed in just a couple seconds- but he’d still made one. A little study in this technical manual should allow him to correct that minor issue.

He turns the page. He plans to get through at least a decent amount of this today, before Thiz gets home; if he does, he might be able to use one to reduce the noise levels in his work zone-

WHAM.

He winces at the noise; not only had the doorknob undoubtedly punched into the wall yet again, he’d dropped his book and spilled his scalding tea down his front.

“Whiz!”

That would be Thiz. For some reason, he sounds much more excited than normal; thus, while he semi-casually eliminates his spilled tea, he hazzards a response. “What broke?”

Thiz, already almost twenty feet from the door, freezes, turning back towards it. “Uh…” In his excitement, he’d thrown the door open with his mana… Then what? He’d really just flung it- and mana has a nasty habit of doing damage when used carelessly like that. Fortunately, he’s only torn one hinge and punched out about eighteen square inches of drywall… Oh, the window’s broken as well. He straightens up, still out of sight of the living room he’d heard his brother from. “Uh, nothing!” he states, even as he directs his mana into the repairs. The hinge is easy enough, as is the window; the drywall takes more energy. Finally, he closes the door, and turns towards the living room, racing his way in.

There, he freezes again, gazing across the room at his brother’s scowl. “What?”

“‘Nothing’ doesn’t take that much power to fix,” Whiz states.

Thiz hangs his head. He’d forgotten about Whiz’ fancy detection spells. “I let it hit the wall.”

Whiz raises his eyebrow. “What about the hinge?”

“I… I got careless.”

“The window?” Whiz sighs, but doesn’t wait for a response. “Just don’t do it again, please. What had you so excited?”

Thiz takes a deep breath, and bursts back into his excitement- much like how a cannon might ‘burst back into action’ when someone lights it. Unfortunately, his stream of utterance is fairly long and far more incomprehensible than anything its volume has a right to be.

At least hearing problems are unheardof in Shielgicians, Whiz considers, as he waits for the noise to finish. When it does, he puts a hand next to his ear, like he’d had trouble hearing.

The signal has its intended effect, just like the last thirty times. Thiz rather abashedly repeats himself, at approximately one third of the pace- reducing it to a hurried speech, still plenty comprehensible- and one eighth the volume, still clearly audible. “I made a portal!” he screams. “I made a portal! It’s still a little nondescript, but I made a portal!”

Whiz raises an eyebrow. “Nondescript?” He rises from the recliner, generating a portal of his own to cross the room to where Thiz is standing. “May I see it?”

Thiz rounds on the now deserted room, lifting his hands in front of him. He closes his eyes, muttering the ‘incantation’ to go with it.

Whiz smiles as the portal appears. It would appear he’s having trouble with the first stage; the gateways are a little fuzzy around the edges, and about as solid as a brick wall. This is to be expected, if he’s still using that ‘incantation’ nonsense; those things are tools used to teach new spells to inexperienced casters, but usually get in the way of an expert like himself.

Not that he didn’t also use an incantation to help him with his ‘metapositional hyperspace’ last week. Strangely enough, he’d actually produced one the first time he’d tried casting without the incantation. “Nice. What happens if you omit the incantation?”

Thiz scowls, his wobbling walls of wasted mana dispersing rather messily. “Uh…”

“Nothing happens?”

“Uh…” His face almost glows.

Whiz raises his eyebrow. “Does that have something to do with the pressure loss at the school today?”

“Uh…” He stares at the floor.

Whiz nods. “So, working on the destination?”

“Uh…”

Sigh. “You know you’re not in trouble, right?”

“What? But-!”

“Yes, I know, six pencils were lost in space. So? They’ll be coming back next week. Though, if you can solve your destination issue, that was a perfect portal to Omega Centauri.”

“To-!” Thiz stares at his brother. Omega Centauri is a star system- and almost a six day journey away on the fastest portalhoppers they have!

Whiz nods. “Yep, the pencils were found in the Clairvoyant’s boat bay about fifteen minutes after you sent them.”

The staring contest resumes for almost two seconds, before Whiz interrupts it again.

“Though, with that kind of a new record, they want you aboard the Entrepreneur as well.”

This finally snaps Thiz out of his trance. “What? The Entre…?” He fades off in the middle of the name of Shielgic’s latest- and fanciest- exploration vessel. Coincidentally, it’s the same ship his brother is already assigned to.

“Three, Two, One!”

The portal opens flawlessly, creating a gap between outer space and outer space. Nevermind that the two spaces that the very short gap connected were over six thousand light years apart. Within seconds, the ship accelerates to maximum velocity- all the way up to 0.3c. Moments later, they strike a path through the portal.

Unfortunately, while the portal was quite stable, space on the other side wasn’t quite so much. As it turns out, the ship’s shields are insufficient to tolerate the diffuse fury found in the fringes of a supernova… At 0.3c, almost directly into the heart of it. The Captain successfully backs his ship away from the epicenter- and, in so doing, purchases enough time for his crew to reach the escape pods. The ship’s sturdy forward armor, while not designed to take such a blast, should suffice to protect the pods- and the small craft in the launch bay- from harm. Thus, when the ship inevitably becomes unlivable, his crew will survive. Once they escape the blast, they will have to either slow the ship or turn it around; there’s a reason they normally only move forwards at maximum velocity. At the same time, they will be able to reoccupy the already heavily damaged ship, perform repairs, and return home.

Whiz, thankful for the high-density mana field maintained aboard ship, carries his nearly-unconscious brother down the hallway at a dead run. That forward armor won’t hold for long- unless he misses his guess, they’ve got as little as thirty seconds to reach the pods before the ship loses pressure. Rather unfortunately, it’s a civilian design, so virtually all of their air will be lost with the first hull breach. Magitech hadn’t taken his (expensive) recommendation- and now, he and the entire crew will pay for it. Quite the price for saving a few coins.

They’d been at the core of the ship. Fortunately, that leaves him relatively close to the launch bay; he should be able to reach the bay and, possibly, one of the shuttles a couple seconds before the ship loses pressure. As soon as it does, he knows, he’ll be on his own as far as mana is concerned as well- all of the stored power aboard ship will go out with the air. Even if that happens, though, he’s stored up enough in his person to maintain his run for almost five minutes before he runs out… and suffers a sudden death. Too bad he’s not good enough with those metapositional hyperspaces to use them to simply “dodge” to safety.

Success! The ship held pressure until right after he successfully sealed the hatch on this little shuttle! As such, not only has he managed to save the tiny ship’s internal atmosphere, but the mana still inside its hull as well! He drops his brother into a seat in the passenger compartment, leaving his mana to strap him in, while he rushes the cockpit himself.

The cockpit he finds empty. Oh well- he’s a halfway decent small craft pilot himself, so he drops into the seat, buckling in with a single burst of power. Finally, he reaches out and hits the comm.

“Shuttle 03 airtight,” he announces. Anyone aboard ship will have felt the message traveling through the surrounding mana; even where there is none, his message will have been carried by such a small flow as to be negligible. Now that he’s announced his shuttle’s status, as ready for any other survivors to come aboard through the airlock, he sets his hand on the control receiver. With this, he’ll be in control of said airlock- and be able to watch for anyone approaching his ship.

Suddenly, a terrified voice breaks over the mana. “Ahh! It’s breaking throu-!”

It cuts off with frightening finality, but Whiz refuses to give way. Shuttles 03 and 04 are the largest small craft this ship has berthed; as such, they are also the ideal gathering place for the crew.

The docking clamps transmit a sudden violence into his shuttle, as if they had hit something. He feels through the controls, preparing himself for a rapid launch, in case the ship falls apart. While his shuttle likely cannot tolerate anything that the Entrepreneur can’t, he might be able to take cover behind its parts until they’re far enough out to make a break for safety. Unfortunately, he can’t do that while he’s still docked.

Another voice sounds out on the mana. “Abandon ship! All hands, abandon ship!”

Whiz waits a half-second before replying. “Shuttle 03 has space,” he announces. The Captain’s signal had the overtones produced by the Entrepreneur’s communications amplifier, not those mounted in the small craft. He’s not feeling anyone at the ship’s controls, though.

“No time! Launch now!”

The docking clamps fly open almost instantly, a small puff of thrust propelling his shuttle into the middle of the alloy cavern, still closed against outer space. “Shuttle 03 off dock!”

As he still drifts rapidly into the center of the cavern, a beam of blinding light pierces through the back of the bay, shredding its way forwards- and incinerating at least three shuttles before it breaks its way through the forward bulkhead, into the ship proper. This light disappears almost as soon as it appears- and so does the Captain’s signal.

Whiz spends almost a half second relaying his own com signal through the ship’s amplifiers- a quarter of which aren’t functioning anymore. “Mayday, Mayday,” he announces, on the long-range transmitters, set for home. “Entrepreneur, taking heavy fire!” On his way through the systems, he’d noticed most of the escape pod launch bays weren’t responding- and he couldn’t find the engines.

Even as he does this, he whips his shuttle out the hole in the exit door, curving sharply as he examines the ship’s surroundings.

The supernova that had originally threatened them is nowhere to be seen; space itself is no threat. However, as he dodges another beam of focused light with a vicious swerve- good thing this shuttle is a military design, albeit a little dated- he identifies the real threat.

Hundreds… No, thousands of ships litter space in front of him. Many of them appear to still be gaining their bearings- but at least three appear to have opened fire already. In his cursory glance, he fails to identify the hostile vessels.

“Entrepreneur, declaring Code Lima Charlie! I repeat, Code Lima Charlie!” It’s at this point something scores another direct hit on the larger ship, and he feels the long-range transmitters disappear. Another laser beam wipes out the last of the escape pod launch bays- and he has yet to witness a single pod escape the ship.

Not that he’d be able to pick any up, even if he spotted them. Thus, he must assume the rest of the crew dead, and releases his link to the Entrepreneur’s systems. It’s now up to him and this agile shuttle to escape alive, if possible. Hopefully, his Code Lima Charlie got back to Shielgician space. That’s the code that any exploration vessel is to announce if it travels somewhere and encounters an extremely powerful foe. The code that declares the ship as lost with all hands, the code that informs them a rescue will be futile due to excessive enemy presence. This code had been developed- and used a lot- during the war with the Delubrians, but had never been announced since. Thus, certain he’d just caused waves in Magitech Command, he makes a break for it.

At this point, the only way to possibly save his shuttle- more hostile ships are opening fire, and their aim is getting better as well- is through a metapositional hyperspace. He closes his eyes, concentrating- and, in the blink of an eye, the shuttle disappears from the face of the universe.

Whatever he had expected, it most certainly wasn’t this. Metapositional hyperspaces are usually simple spaces- like deep space. With small adjustments, one can fill them with air, add a floor, and so on; he’d opted for an empty one. The portal in is harder than a normal portal, but is effortless to him nonetheless.

But while he’d expected a starless expanse similar to deep space, what he got is something else entirely.

A wall of color blazes across the windows, much like a portal to a hyperspace that doesn’t exist would look like. Only thing is, portals into a non-hyperspace will instantly shred anything that passes through into absolutely nothing. So, why is he still alive, let alone able to look at these colors? The shuttle’s sensory relays show him absolutely nothing- well, aside from the random colors he can already see in the windows.

Then, he realizes, there’s a building pain in his chest. He tries to stem it with his mana, but it ignores his effort as it spreads throughout his body. He makes one final attempt before praying to himself that his brother fails to experience this pain- by either landing safely in his hyperspace or by a swift death- and giving in.

In the passenger compartment, his momentarily conscious brother makes a similar prayer, praying Whiz can get them out of whatever situation they’re in. He passes out again long before he can assert what had happened after the alarms started blaring- or how long it’s been since then.

Whiz gasps in his first breath in hours when the pain finally goes away. His seat is no longer nearly so comfortable as it used to be, and he doesn’t feel quite right.

Before he can begin analyzing exactly what had changed, another absence also strikes him: Those colors. Mind, the buffeting of the wind drew his attention to that absence, but who’s counting? At some point, his hand had come off of the control receiver; now, as he catches a glimpse of the ground far too close for this speed, he reaches for it once again, taking ahold-

Wait. He can’t seem to feel his fingers, but since it only takes a touch to connect him to the ship’s controls, he settles for pressing the now fingerless limb against it. It takes him a second to settle himself into the ship before he lights up the engines… Which, of course, require mana. Unfortunately, it seems all of the mana on board had escaped at some point, though it’s still airtight; as such, he’ll have to settle for the less powerful emergency thrusters and aerodynamic controls almost no one uses anymore. Fortunately for him, he’s trained with them for just this situation. His personal mana- also somehow depleted, but his body produces the stuff- is sufficient to operate these controls.

It takes him a few seconds to regain control of the vehicle, stabilizing it and guiding it in for a landing in the grassy field he sees up ahead. The town he’ll pass over before he reaches it, unfortunately, doesn’t appear to have any landing bays. He reaches for the comm amplifier with his other, also fingerless, hand; he’s still not sure why they didn’t add an activation circuit to this thing from the main controls. They had for the Entrepreneur. He depresses the key, activating the transmitter, and draws in a quick breath while he waits for it to come fully online.

“Ent-!” He cuts off, releasing the key and almost losing control of the shuttle, at the sound of his own voice- at least a few octaves higher than normal.

Then, of course, there’s the reflexively twitching muscles on the top of his head, and the echo. This tiny space normally doesn’t produce any noticeable echo; when he’d watched with his mana once before, the echo is either too small to be noticed or synchronized close enough with the original vocalization so as to go unnoticed. In order to generate a disguised but loud enough to be heard echo, he’d have to be yelling- but he’d heard his strange new voice echoing slightly.

He takes a deep breath, restabilizing the craft, and depresses the key again, this time expecting much of what he gets.

“Entrepreneur, Shuttle 03, requesting emergency landing,” he states, trying to ignore his new voice, and releases the key again.

He flies towards that field for five seconds, repeats his request, and waits another five seconds.

Finally, he decides to take it into his own hands, and depresses the button one last time. “Entrepreneur, Shuttle 03, executing emergency field landing.” He diverts his attention back to his landing, activating the emergency thrusters as he loses speed over the field.

Emergency field landings are never fun- nor smooth. Thanks to the invariability presented by the emergency thrusters’ solid fuel, he has to adjust carefully on their numbers- and time the ignition of additional thrusters so as to touch down as smoothly as possible. This one wasn’t his best landing, but it was mighty close. The shocks and springs on the shuttle’s wheeled landing gear are able to handle the impact shock as the next set of thrusters go out. The shuttle bounces twice before it settles on the grass, just moments before the last set of thrusters go out.

Finally, he leans back against this disastrously uncomfortable chair, letting out a huff of breath- down and safe, finally- before he uses a momentary burst of mana to unbuckle himself and hops out of the chair… to promptly fall on his face. Funny, he hadn’t tripped over his own two feet in over a decade- but why does his chin stick out quite so far, why does his neck feel quite so long, and why does he feel so fuzzy?
Oh- and why did his feet make that odd clunking noise against the metal decking? He’s wearing rubber-soled boots! … though he can’t feel his toes, and his legs- and arms- moved differently than they did before that ordeal, unless he misses his guess. What had happened? He uses his arms to help him lift into a sitting position, whereafter he lifts one arm in front of him, in order to examine his… Hoof?

Hooves

“Uuugh,” Thiz groans, crawling his way back to conscience. He’d burned way too much power when he made that portal- and it doesn’t help that this seat is dreadfully uncomfortable, especially with the pressure on his-

His what? He’s not entirely sure; they’re not arms, nor legs, rather they’re positioned somewhere between the two, on his back. He raises an eyebrow even as he opens his eyes, looking up towards the wall in front of him. How did he get here? At least the indicator reports that whatever small craft he’s seated in is landed- and it’s safe to unbuckle.

It takes him a quick, well-practiced stroke to strike the releases on the straps holding him in, letting them retract back into the seat. Thank Magitech for springs. He leans forwards, alleviating the painful pressure on his back, and stretches out those… limbs. Whatever they are, they’re very sensitive. Once the initial kinks work themselves out with a few loud pops and snaps, he finally turns his head to look.

Interesting. He wasn’t aware he had wings. Not the kind of thing any typical Shielgician has- nor that he might possibly miss for so many years. He stretches it back out as far as it goes… disappointed that, according to his aerodynamics training, he’d have to make something like Mach 3 to produce enough aerodynamic lift to hold himself up. No matter how hard he pushes it, simple mana is not enough to propel a Shielgician form to those velocities. Dang! After glancing at the other side- yep, that’s a wing too- he draws them in and twists in place, searching the rest of the compartment.

Empty… Momentary multiplication informs him it’s a rather large craft, compared to the ones he’s used to riding in, at least. There’s at least fifty seats in here, possibly a hundred. Not that he cares, much; it would seem he’s alone.

So, he sniffs the air. Unfortunately, there’s virtually no mana present for him to recharge himself with; oh well, he’ll just have to produce it himself. Perhaps something happened while he was out?

… And what’s that weird scent…?

Finally, he looks down at himself. These seats were designed to be comfortable, not the opposite.

He spends almost a full minute staring at his… are they hooves? He lifts one up, twisting it around to look at the bottom. That little motion easily violated the range of motion of every hooved creature he knows- not that any of those had wings. He examines the cream-colored extremity for some time more before he carefully slides his way out of the seat, landing on all fours. After taking an experimental step or two, and stumbling only once, he finally decides it’s not all that different from what crawling used to be like; rather, this just feels more natural than that ever did. Now, he twists his head around to catch a glimpse of his back, where his wings remain folded. He’d noticed earlier that his new neck should be long enough, if it’s as flexible as his old one.

Interesting. He’s some kind of… horse-like creature? He almost has to snort at the color combination, though- his coat is a light cream, with his tail (and, presumably, mane) more of a light blue, complete with a slightly lighter stripe down the middle.

Finally, he raises his eyebrows, spreading his wings once again. A shielgician form might not be able to hit Mach 3, but he’s not yet familiar with the aerodynamic properties of this form… A shielgician form might be too heavy to fly with this size of wings anywhere slower than Mach 3, but this form might be lighter… He gives his wings a good stroke.

Whiz stares at his blue hoof. He doesn’t know how long he’s been impersonating an inanimate object, but he doesn’t really care, either. He’s spent the time trying to reason out the hows and whys related to the hoof- alongside trying to figure out how he’d perform so many of the tasks he’d done before, especially in this mana-less world. After all, with no standing fields from which to draw his energy, he simply can’t just throw spells around the way they do on Shielgic, or aboard their ships.

He snaps out of his trance when he hears a crash and a pained- and definitively feminine- yelp from the passenger compartment. Only, he’s fairly certain he only has one passenger- and Thiz is definitely male.

He freezes halfway through his search for the nearest sidearm- not like he could actually use them with a hoof- to remind himself of his own strange voice, and looks down at himself.

Light blue fur… and, yep, no longer male. The same thing could have happened to Thiz, he supposes- and he would activate their telepathic link, if he had the mana to maintain it for more than three seconds without drawing on a nonexistent shipboard supply. He- or, she- stands up again, successfully falling on her face once more before she tries a four-legged stance. Then, when she tries walking towards the door, she manages to fall on her face.

At least she doesn’t repeat that mistake twice. Once she figures out the walk, the door arrives fairly quickly, with no more painful faceplants. Opening the thing is one of the easiest things she’s done yet- a small burst of mana and it slides smoothly open, revealing…

Revealing an empty passenger compartment. She glances around the room. “Hello?”

His attention is drawn quickly by the sound of the cockpit door sliding open across the room- and the distinctive clopping noise he’d already found his own hooves made on the ground. He raises his head off of the decking, focusing on his ears until he points them successfully in the desired direction- towards the inbound noise. He’d found out about them when he landed on his head some seconds ago; as a matter of fact, he’s still lying on his back after that tragic maiden voyage. He never knew his yelps could be that high-pitched. At least he’s confirmed that his new form actually can fly without mana at all, though how he has no clue. Nevermind that he’ll have to learn how to fly with wings as well; presumably, he’ll be able to fly for as long as his muscles last, rather than for as long as his mana lasts- which, if he can’t draw from a surrounding field, could be as little as ten seconds.

“Hello?”

He tilts his head at the strange voice wafting over from the direction of the cockpit. Once recognition fails, he folds his wings and rolls back onto his hooves to stand up, rising from behind the seats before he responds. “He-Oh… Um, hello?” Even his normal voice is way too high, like a girl’s… He resists the temptation to check. It’s not like that’s actually important right now.

The creature by the door looks at him. “Thiz?” she asks.

Thiz spends a few seconds taking in the captain’s light blue fur and even lighter golden mane before he responds. “Uh, yes? I think?”

The captain raises an eyebrow. “It seems we’ve… changed,” she states. “I’m Whiz.”

Thiz tilts his head sideways, trotting his way up the aisle to meet his captain without shouting overtop the chairs. “What happened?”

Whiz sighs. “I’m not sure. As soon as we went through your portal, we were attacked. I had to announce a Lima Charlie, and tried to use a hyperspace to get us away.”

He nods, pretending to understand what his brother… Sister? Is telling him. “Uh-huh.”

“Unfortunately, I’ve never done those before- so the portal came out into a hyperspace that didn’t exist.”

He repeats his show.

Whiz lets out a huff. “In short, stuff happened and I accidentally dropped us into the void, so now we’re finding out what happens to everyone else that’s happened to!”

Now he understands. “Ahh.”

“So, we’ve been turned into…” Whiz’ eyes travel to Thiz’ wings, before she twists to search her own side. “What? You have wings?”

“You don’t?” Thiz returns; he hadn’t looked. Now he does- and, indeed, there are no wings on his brother-sister’s back. Bro-ter? Sis-ther? … Sister is good enough, he decides. He glances back at his own wings, extending them partially. “Um, okay.” He folds them again. “So, where’s everyone else?”

“We’re the only survivors.”

Smoke

“Wait, what?” It had taken Thiz several seconds to process Whiz’ words.

“We’re the only survivors,” his older sister answers. “We’ve also landed in potentially hostile terrain; I need you to help me check the shuttle for damage.”

Thiz shakes herself gently. “Um, okay. Where…?”

“You check the dorsal turrets. Make sure they’re tracking properly, but don’t shoot anything. I’m going to check the reactor.” Whiz makes her way down to the back of the passenger compartment, flicking the core access door open with a pulse of mana. Amazing how much harder it is to open doors when the power grid is down.

Next, she enters the core sector. This area contains the ship’s reactor and structural center, among other things; backup control circuits to just about everything are also found here, as the part least likely to be destroyed in a crash. She moves directly to the reactor, positioned just behind the long-range communication amplifiers, and pauses… And pauses. She waits a few minutes to build up enough mana before she initiates her diagnostic on the inoperable mana-producing device.

… Only to find it’s not inoperable, it’s just ran out of fuel.

Or, the mana infusion in the fuel appears to have been drawn out, like the rest of the mana aboard ship. Without this infusion, the reactor itself is not enough to convert the matter present in the fuel into mana… Therefore, the fuel is useless. Fortunately, though, it’s still a liquid- though thick and sticky, sticky one, rather than runny like it’s supposed to be. Re-infusing fuel shouldn’t be too difficult; it’ll only take a sizable amount of time to store up enough mana to perform the task. Once they get the reactor running, the small fuel refinery in the corner should be able to re-infuse the rest of the fuel with little to no effort on their part, before she plans to allow the mana levels aboard ship to return to normal densities, normally “automatically” maintained by the generator. Or, for that matter, to charge the capacitance coils.

She emits a heavy sigh, and walks back out to the passenger compartment to check on Thiz’ progress with the ship’s defenses.

She, predictably, finds her younger sister sitting next to one of the turret control seats, staring firmly at the control handle, presumably waiting for her mana to accumulate high enough to operate the thing.

“How’s it going?” she asks mildly.

“Huh?” Thiz twists around to face her, rising to her hooves- and lifting one to point. “The first two checked out, the third one feels like it’s rusty, and I haven’t been able to check this last one just yet.”

Whiz nods. “Interesting. Well, I already know the engines are okay- but all our fuel has lost its infusion.”

Thiz’ wings droop suddenly- an acceptable imitation of what she would no doubt have done if she were still Shielgician in form: Let her arms hang. “What?”

Whiz nods again. “We can forgo the last turret check for now, and save up to infuse some fuel. Once we get the first little bit done, I should be able to run the rest through the refinery.”

Thiz sighs. “So, how long are we waiting?”

Whiz shrugs- or, at least, tries to. Turns out it doesn’t work so well when your upper limbs aren’t independent of your stance; she nearly faceplants again. “Several hours, I think? We should have enough emergency rations in here to hold a full complement for a week- so, the two of us ought to last close to a year on them.”

At this, Thiz wrinkles her nose. “Those things? They’re horrible.” Her mouth twitches in the ghost of a smile. “And since our sense of smell seems to have grown stronger, what’s that say about taste…?”

Whiz scowls slightly. “I know they taste like rehydrated cardboard, but it’s all we got- and until we’ve got power, that airlock is staying closed.”

“Oh…” Thiz pouts, but Whiz is used to this- though, he has to admit, their new forms make the act much more entertaining than it used to be.

“How about we focus on what happened to us, then? Learn to run, perhaps.” She glances at her sister’s wings. “Or fly.”

“Without crashing.”

An eyebrow raises. “You already tried?”

“Yep- and I can fly! … it’s just not very controlled.”

“Ahh. Well, let’s focus on running then. I’d rather not have to teleport back to ship if we get in trouble.”

Almost two hours later, Thiz is running circles around a trotting Whiz; Whiz can’t stop thinking that Thiz could be running faster, if only she knew how. At least neither of them are falling down any more- that’s always a plus. Unfortunately, she can’t seem to let go of the ground enough herself to build up any of the speed Thiz is managing.

On the flipside of things, though, they’ve saved up enough mana- between the two of them- to perform the first section of re-infusing. Whiz very nearly burns into that supply to stop Thiz from jumping around; this is her first time into this part of any spacecraft, let alone a military design; these things have an order of magnitude more things to play with in here.

Fortunately, she doesn’t have to spend any of his hard-waited mana in restraining her sister, so their collaborative effort goes successfully. Her reward is a single drop of revitalized fuel- which is instantly burned up in the reactor. Whiz then sends Thiz back out into the passenger bay before he directs the tiny bits of mana produced- easily six times what they had used to produce that fuel- into the refinery… With a little, of course, to levitate the uninfused fuel into it. It takes her five minutes to build up enough of a flow that the refinery runs flat out; the remaining mana produced, as the reactor can burn it several times as fast as their refinery can produce it, goes into charging the power cells.

Which, of course, take their merry time charging. Not that she cares- she’ll be sitting in this room, directing the levitation of uninfused fuel, until she gets it all into the refinery.

She takes in a deep breath as the door snaps open in front of her… And lets it out. Stupid shipboard air, always smelling of the same dust… Not, she reminds herself, that she could smell that dust beforehand. Her second breath captures…

Is that smoke? She steps quickly through the door, onto the boarding ramp, scanning around quickly. She’d used Turret 4- perfect working order- to review their surroundings before she came to this door; as a matter of fact, she’d also waited until she could charge her own internal mana supply to completely full- and leave a decent supply in the batteries- before she’d dropped out of the turret!

After a momentary glance back whence she came, she makes the decision to investigate on her own. It’s not like Whiz would be able to move nearly as fast as she, though she might understand the parts better. Besides, what’s five minutes- and knowing where the problem is- next to the six hours the clock tells her they’ve been here?

Again, it’s not like they can’t utilize their telepathic link; with the ship’s mana supply, Whiz should be able to power it from inside indefinitely! Then, of course, the nature of telepathic links would let her fix the damage, not just her more learned sister. She faces the back of the ship, where the smell seems to be coming from, spreads her wings, and makes a leap for the ladder rungs to the top of the ship. She hopes she can climb the ladder or wing her way up; they’d lose so little mana if she had to levitate herself up, the way all spacefaring Shielgicians are taught.

Well, little compared to the amount Whiz is busy producing. And little compared to the amount it would cost to teleport on top of the ship.

… And her attempt at gliding to the rungs fails dismally; she misses them entirely and finds herself upside-down on the ground again. Drat! What did she get wrong? Oh well- those rungs extend all the way to the ground; they’re not generally supposed to be mounted direct from the boarding ramp. Once she rights herself- turns out the lumpy ground is less comfortable to roll on than the metal deck plating- she sets about climbing that ladder.

It takes her close to a minute to figure it out, but she eventually clambers up the ladder. Not nearly as fast as she might have before- after all, she didn’t usually take five seconds per rung and fall off twice. During that second fall, at least, her outstretched wings had ended up turning her rightside-up, leaving her to land on her hooves… gentler than she might have otherwise. But in any case, she’s now standing atop the shuttlecraft, and she trots along it- threading her way between the upper dorsal turrets- in the direction the smoke seems to be coming from.

Which happens to be the tail of the ship. Excellent- that’s both the busiest side of the ship, AND where the engines are! Fortunately, with this sense of smell of hers, she ought to be able to track down whatever’s smoking within seconds… Hopefully. She’ll have to self-levitate off the back of the shuttle; with no work platforms and no work harness (she hadn’t thought to bring it and, besides, it’s a two-man tool), that’s all she’s got.

Only, as she sniffs at the air, she realize the smoke isn’t coming from below her, but from in front… Behind the shuttle. Somewhere. With a quick glance back at the ship, she estimates the mana required to teleport back to it- thank that particular spell isn’t affected- significantly, at least- by distance! Finally, she spreads her wings, leaps off the back of the ship… and the only reason she doesn’t end up upside-down (or something more painful) is because she corrects her orientation constantly with her mana.

That didn’t take much- just a quarter-second’s worth of refinery time. She then runs- or, is it more of a gallop? Doesn’t feel fast enough to be that, though- in the direction of the smoke… Almost directly behind the ship and, apparently, quite the distance as well.

She eventually reduces to what might be considered a trot; unlike her gallop- canter?- it doesn’t strain her muscles so much.

She trots.

And she trots on.

She makes sure to glance back every so often, making sure she doesn’t go out of sight of her ship… Or, more accurately, that her ship doesn’t go out of her sight. It’s only the easiest way to judge distance- and, thence, to know exactly how far is too far.

Finally, with the very tip of the shuttle’s vertical stabilizer sticking up over the horizon when she holds her head as high as she can whise standing on a tall hill, she looks the other way- and discovers the source of the smoke.

Or, more, she discovers the smoke. It’s also over the horizon.

She estimates total distance… Yep, plenty within teleportation range. She won’t be able to use her mana for much else without cutting into what she’ll need for teleportation, but she can at least travel up closer. This she does.

Burn

Her distance estimate turns out inaccurate; by the time she crests the hill to bring the source of the smoke into view, she knows she’s too far to teleport directly to her ship. She should be able to land within a couple minutes’ walk of it, though- and shortening slowly, thanks to her innate mana production. She’s almost ‘full’ by now. However…

She stops at the top of the hill, gazing down at the town beneath her. It’s a small village, matching Whiz’ short description of the one they’d passed over on the way. A nice little village, with a little market square, several dozen buildings, and at least eight house fires.

Oh yes, don’t forget the… things attacking the town. They stand upright- and she’d call them Shielgicians, except their legs aren’t shaped like a Shielgician’s, but more like her new form’s hind legs. So, Shielgician-oid? Regardless, they’re still attacking the village- wielding swords, wooden shields, and torches. The sort of weapons that are beyond easy to deflect with minute amounts of mana. Shields are among the easiest spells to produce, after all.

The villagers appear to be in a panic of some sort. At least some of them are running in circles; others seem to be attempting to fight. Still more appear to be trying to organize an evacuation- and a fourth group seems to be following a preplanned evacuation.

Perhaps the most important part of the village, though, is that the villagers all appear to be… well, like her sister. Four-legged, wingless, and very colorful. As she starts her canter down the hill- the villagers are clearly managing a faster gait, she’ll have to investigate that sometime- she searches for a local with wings. She doesn’t want to look like an alien, after all…

Interesting. That body seems to have something sticking out of its forehead. Maybe it’s a birth defect? Rather… Unlikely. Especially when there’s two. Three. Oh, that one’s wearing golden armor, but it’s also dead. He? She? She’s not sure, from this far away.

She’s halfway down the hill when she locates a second set of golden armor. The villager wearing it seems to have donned it hastily, but is locked in battle with one of the… Minotaurs? She’s close enough to recognize the form by now. While she canters, she watches the armored villager drop the freshly dead minotaur on top of one of its companions and leap into the air to assault another hostile on the other side of a house.

Leap into the air.

Leap into the air, on white wings.

So, the village is familiar with creatures like herself. No need to worry about that, at least. She deploys her own shield while she approaches and, finally, enters the town, headed directly for the main concentration of the attackers. Mana-based attacks, while far less researched than shields, are still fairly easy, even without the focusing conduit of a sidearm.

Ahh! Her first minotaur! This should be fun. The din of battle echoes from ahead as she draws the intended assassin out of hiding. Thanks to this, compounded with her focus on the battle, she completely misses the yell that golden-armored villager with the pointy thing poking out of his forehead sent in her direction. The yell that might have been intended to alert her to a danger, spur her on… Or to order her to turn back. Not that she cares- the thing is swinging its sword now. She can’t wait to see its expression when it bounces off her invisible shield.

Aaaand- Drat! Whatever that blue glow around the flying metal shield was, it stole the glory! And the monster’s attention… She huffs indignantly, using a quick burst of mana to reduce the monster’s nervous cavity to the consistency of chunky salsa. Suffice it to say, the thing keels over rather quickly. She glances around for the offending shield and, not finding it, trots forwards, towards the main party.

She doesn’t reach it, though. That same golden-armored pointy-forehead decided he wanted to get in her path, yelling something into her face. He passes right through her shield- she’s only calibrated it against the minotaurs- and forcibly stops her advance.

Funny, she can actually understand what he’s saying. Kinda. A little bit. About as much as she understands Whiz when she talks about her… whatever it’s called, the boring thing.

Finally, it clicks in her mind. Now, she understands him quite clearly- his words, at least. Something about being out of her mind and going away from danger. Perhaps he’s the locals’ equivalent of the Shielgic Defense Force?

“I can fight too,” she states, interrupting his yelling.

He issues her a heavy sigh. “Leave the fight to us,” he orders. “If you want to help, go back a street, hang a left, and help the survivors.”

Disappointed, she agrees, and does as she was told. She’d never gotten into the Defense Force herself, and given the planet’s young civilization’s war-torn beginnings, she’s also quite used to taking orders from soldiers. He seems satisfied with her action and, while she canters back to the street he’d indicated, he turns back in the direction she had originally been headed and gallops away.

She’s tempted to follow as soon as he’s out of sight, but she doesn’t. A friend saved is worth more than an enemy defeated any day.

Finally! The last drop of that wretched uninfused fuel finally squeezes its way into the refinery intake, and she seals the cap. It’ll take it a few hours yet to finish reinfusing; however, the capacitors are full, and interior mana density is up to about a quarter of normal levels. She trots out of the core sector, closing the hatch behind her, and glances around the empty passenger bay.

“Thiz?”

She reaches the end of the side street, glancing both ways before she emerges. It’s one of the streets with circles being worn in it… Great. She sets to work organizing the natives, taking advantage of the various information she’d gathered from above the town- where the attackers are, where the organized evac seemed to be headed, and so on. She should be able to cross paths with them fairly quickly, get everyone together. Shielgicians are always harder to beat when they’re together- hopefully, the natives are similar.

However, luck would not have her. She’s on the wrong side of the party of survivors when they’re found; thus, at least two of the townsfolk are killed before she hears the blood-curdling scream… and very nearly teleports over, stopping herself only barely in time; what they call ‘teleportation’ isn’t truly teleportation. Yes, it moves very fast, and matters little what is in between; however, it is far from instant. At this piddling little range, such an act would cost her a precious five seconds or so- and, even from the other side of the party, a shield takes hardly an eyeblink to deploy. Thus, their attackers’ next blows fall on a rippling transparent golden dome while she makes her way around the party in an effort to minimize the mana cost of her return blows.

On her way, she contemplates exactly how best to eliminate her foes. Some of the natives seem to be staring at her, but no matter; she still needs to eliminate them, preferably without spending too much mana; she’ll have to walk back to her ship at this point. She could convert their heads into salsa, just like the first… But while it had certainly been satisfying, that had been a rather significant waste of mana, and unlike Shielgic, there is no virtually limitless supply in the atmosphere for her to draw on. Alternately, she could simply levitate one of their confused swords out of their grasp, and swing that through all of their necklines. Probably the cheapest solution, in terms of mana- and, that in mind, she immediately starts the levitation.

The minotaur lets go of his sword- letting out a terrified yelp- as soon as it starts floating on its own. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to dwell on it for very long; it takes her about five seconds to dispatch them all, then she drops the sword again, and turns back towards the party… every member of which is now staring at the ex-attackers.

“Keep going,” she urges- and, shortly, they’re under way once again.

“Thiz! Where are you?”

Uh-oh. That’s her older sister’s voice, over their telepathic link. Hopefully, she’s powering it fully from the ship’s end.

“Um, in a little trouble, I think,” she answers- and recalls her path, sending that along. Most of it, at any rate.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay inside?”

“You said until the power was back on…”

“You know what I meant.”

“Uh… But these villagers need help!”

“Villagers?”

“Yes… that village we passed over is under attack, I’m helping them evacuate.”

The link cuts off.

She blinks once. Her sister had never cut the link like that, save when she had been terribly angry… Oh. Yep, she’s in big trouble now. At least she’ll have a few hours at least to consider her response; she’ll have to walk all the way back to the ship, unless her sister comes running out after her; even if that happens, her sister can hardly trot, let alone gallop… Which, by the way, she’s starting to figure out. The locals make it seem so easy it’s unfair!

… Then again, it is pretty easy, and now she’s starting to run low on mana. She’s encountered- and joined with- two other evacuee groups, each forcing her to expand the limits- and mana requirement- of her shield. That last attack had consisted of no less than eleven minotaurs; if another like it comes, she worries she might not have the mana required to defeat the hostiles without weakening her shield. If the natives can fight, this should solve the problem… For one attack.

A scream goes up from the other side of the party. She whips her head around, looking; it seems they’re looking between the buildings. Some half dozen or so natives are staring around a building to her right, while the rest are looking left… Where, a momentary virtually-free scanning spell reveals, almost fifty minotaurs are waiting to pounce.

Her eyes widen… and return, while her ears twitch to a familiar noise.

A noise that normally means the Shielgic Defense Force is almost there.

The high-pitched whine of a Mana Engine, normally inaudible from inside the craft.

By the stars, if these villagers are frightened by her flying swords, they’ll be absolutely terrified by what’s about to come.

Her shield shatters into millions of fragments as the first focused beam of mana rips right over their heads- and she can’t hear the rest of the battle, for the screaming.

Her sister hadn’t just defied her instructions once again. No, that would have been simple and, normally, safe. Rather, what she’s done is far worse.

First, she abandoned the protection of their shuttle, entering a possibly hostile world.

Second, she had done it alone.

Third, she had found something dangerous… And rather than reporting it, had marched right in.

And now, of course, she’s in danger herself. She hadn’t said as much, but it was implied.

So, leaving the reactor to do its thing, she had seated herself back in the cockpit, drawn on some of the ship’s power to adjust the seat into something more comfortable for her current form, and placed one of her hooves on the control bar. As a matter of fact, she’d even reshaped the console a bit to make it easier to maintain contact during high-G maneuvers.

Then, she had proven to the universe that the object she’s sitting in side is not an inert lump of metal, nor even a simple aircraft. No- she’d lit off her spacecraft’s main drive, rising vertically into the air and folding the landing gear before she accelerated- nearly instantly- to almost twice the speed of sound. In the direction the shuttle had been pointing away from.

And now, as she breaks over the horizon from that town at close to mach three (any faster and she’d outpace the reactor), she gains an eyewitness report on the scene… through the fiber-optic cable connected to the belly ‘pilot’s turret’, one of the only two weapons on the ship directly connected to the main control grid.

The magic shield her sister is using stands out to her as she kills her speed, reducing below the speed of sound. No more need to burn so much mana in motive power. Besides…

There’s no physical trigger to pull, but what better way is there to announce her presence to her sister than with the equivalent of artillery fire? She drops that belly turret into all-out rapid-fire, starting right over her sister’s head- at that party of minotaur hostiles her mana-sensor scan reported in that area- and sweeping across the village, through the thickest parties of those hostiles. She specifically shoots around the natives that bear similarity in form to either her or her sister.

As such, her very first shot doesn’t only shatter her sister’s flimsy shield (nevermind that a single shielgician’s personal supply could never make a shield strong enough to stand up to these weapons for even a moment), but it also simply erases about thirty hostiles… And an entire house.

All told, it takes her just eight seconds to eliminate the majority of the attackers… And extinguish half the house fires, if only by eliminating the houses as well. Hopefully, not too much of value to the survivors was damaged.

After those eight seconds, she releases the maximum-rate fire, trading out her prior volume of fire for more precise sniper shots, to eliminate individual hostiles… including those locked in combat with natives. Even as she does this, she directs her craft to slow to a hover over the town.

An arrow glances off the shuttle’s shield. Heh- they might be able to overload her sister’s shield, but this one could deflect the very weapons she’s using… Not for very long, but it could.

Shout

It seems to take forever for the screaming to go down, even with her wild attempts to calm the survivors. The weapon’s continuing- and now rather erratic- zzwoop noise most certainly isn’t helping. She even finds one of the armored villagers, his adversary now a crater in the roadway, doing little other than staring blankly at it. She tries to help them recover from their fright as well- and, by the time the weapon finally issues its last bolt, some villagers are searching through the town to find more survivors. She hadn’t been all that surprised that the armored ones had declared that they- self proclaimed as the ‘Guard’- should be the only ones performing such duty.

Unfortunately for them, she’d had a comeback prepared- with only two members of the Guard present, they’d have to bring in some non-Guards to help, unless they wanted to wait for the next attack to finish their search for them. They had, reluctantly, agreed with her reasoning. As such, even though the guards are searching alone, there are four other parties, of at least six villagers each, also participating in the search. It so happens that, thanks to the miniscule mana cost of her scans, her party single-handedly- or is it single-hoofedly?- brings back over half of the remaining survivors.

While she was out with them, trying to plan her comebacks for Whiz’ inevitable fury, she’d heard the whine of the Mana Engine on the back of the shuttle fade to nothing. Had her sister flown it away? Had she instead flown back to where it had been landed before? She doesn’t know- and she’s spent too much mana, so she doesn’t have enough to invoke their telepathic link.

Only, when they get back to the market square, where they had split out from and planned to return to, she finds her worrying is unnecessary. There’s the shuttle, the landing gear effortlessly straddling the craters that used to be a couple buildings. The only problem, however, is that the boarding ramp is still in its raised position, sealing smoothly overtop the airlock door. Unfortunately, with it in that position, her mana won’t be able to penetrate the ship’s hull to open it or any other door.

The two heavily injured guards her party had recovered- she’d targeted the most injured survivors, guard and not alike- take one look and make the attempt to stand between her and the ship… Unfortunately, one has a crippled wing and at least two broken legs, and the other’s hind legs are still recovering from being smashed by the building he’d been found underneath.

So, with no guards to block her path, she trots forwards from the party, stopping short of the boarding ramp’s landing position, looking up and tilting her head. “Whiz?”

She gets no answer from the ship.

One of the survivors, however, stalks up next to her. “Y-you know what that is?” she asks.

Thiz turns to look at her inquirer. “Uh, yes,” she answers. “That’s our ship.”

“Our… You’ve got company?” The brown-ish mare looks around quickly. “Did I- AAHH!”

Even Thiz jumps at the sudden hissing coming from the side of the ship in front of her. As her gaze locks back onto it, she sees the long, straight cracks growing along the length of the fuselage, splitting up and down at the ends… And the visible rush of dust-laden air flowing out those same gaps. It takes her a few seconds to process what’s happening, during which the upper panel swings smoothly upwards, carrying the troop compartment windows with it, to form some sort of canopy over the opening. The lower panel simultaneously rotates down, further sections sliding out and unfolding as it does so, so as to become a very wide staircase.

And at the top, standing inside the now wide-open passenger compartment of the shuttle, stands her sister… With a rather angry expression… And a remote control tether hanging around her neck.

“Uhh…” Thiz mutters, shrinking away from her sister.

“Is that…?” her inquisitive companion asks.

“Yea,” Thiz utters, taking another step back.

“Thiz!” Whiz’ yell comes thundering out at them, amplified by the echoes off the houses, while she stomps her way down the steps. “What were you thinking?”

The villager abandons her, sidling rather swiftly away to rejoin the rest of the group.

“Uh,” Thiz mutters. “I was following the smoke?”

Whiz raises an eyebrow, now within normal talking distance, but doesn’t stop shouting. “And you didn’t tell me? We could have gotten the ship here an hour earlier- and then, there’d be more than eighty-seven survivors!”

Thiz’ jaw articulates up and down as she tries to ignore the muttering running across the villagers. She’s fairly certain that, had she actually alerted her sister, they wouldn’t be here at all.

“What’s more, we’d know what we were getting into before we got here- and have TWO guns running, not just one!”

“S-sorry,” Thiz finally mutters. “I thought it was the engine…”

Whiz hangs her head. “All the more reason to tell me. You don’t know how those things work, I do.” She plants a hoof in Thiz’ chest, using herself as a conduit for the ship’s power grid. “Next time, make sure I know before you go. It could spell the difference between saving a town… and being late.”

Thiz hangs her head even further; much more and she’ll find out what paving stones taste like. “Yeah…”

Whiz lets out a sigh, shaking her head, and steps past her sister as the shuttle’s interior lights all kick on, banishing the shadows from which she’d emerged. “But, hindsight always has such perfect vision. As far as in-the-moment decisions went, you did well, for someone with no military training.” She looks ahead, directly towards the gathered survivors. “Is everyone okay?”

Nevermind that she already knew the answer; such information was irrelevant for the question. Her answers start coming back in the form of a few yeses, a few pained yeses, and a groaned “ ‘Mokay!”

She grins at all of the positive answers… Seriously, there aren’t that many villagers left for kilometers around that can truthfully answer the affirmative. “Okay really, now. I’m good with injuries- who all is hurt?”

The entire crowd seems to shift a couple inches to the side as every villager averts their eyes by about the same angle, all at once. “Uh…”

Whiz sighs, and trots forwards. “Anyone need-Aargh!”

The crowd stares, without laughing, as Whiz trips over a fallen timber and faceplants the ground. She recovers fast enough that Thiz suspects she was expecting to fall, but slow enough it could have been accidental.

“Ow,” Whiz mutters, rubbing her nose briefly, and scattering the dirt out of her mane with a single hoofstroke. “Anyone else?”

This time, the crowd splits, allowing a couple bruised villagers to carry the injured guards into her view. Whiz takes one brief glance, the ship’s high-fidelity sensors informing her instantly of exactly how badly broken the wingless one’s hind legs are… and how much worse the winged one’s knees- and even ribcage- are damaged. She must have done some serious fighting; given the wings, Whiz decides it’s not only possible but probable she had struck with every hoof until she had been grounded. In either case, Whiz decides, that’s her priority.

Oh, and while she’s at it, she’ll straighten out the massive dent in her armor- the one that’s pressing against her damaged ribs. Bending metal is easy compared to mending bones.

Speaking of which, at least she can draw from the ship’s mana supply, through her tether… This is going to be expensive. She makes sure to ignore all the other natives’ wide-eyed stares as the pegasus mare’s armor, legs, and wing straighten, in sequence, under her soft touch. Further, she tries to ignore the number of those stares that seem to be directed towards her flank. Seriously, there’s nothing there.

Thiz watches her sister for just a couple seconds before she rushes away, intent upon greeting the rest of the groups. Thanks to the full recharge Whiz had given her, she’s now got plenty of mana to drop a scan over the entire town, locate every search party… and she runs off on another heading. This one won’t take her to any of the parties gathering towards the ship; rather, it’ll take her to the only villager still undiscovered. As a matter of fact, this one is right along the path she’d taken earlier, but her lower-energy scans hadn’t been enough to penetrate the thick stone to see into the basement that collapsed on top of her.

Double score, now she has enough mana to move the aforementioned basement… well, enough to free its prisoner, at least.

As she approaches the collapsed basement, and drops a better scan on the position, she realizes something looks a little… off about it. The mare inside is injured, yes- but most basement collapses don’t look quite like concrete bunkers. As a matter of fact, she should have to move very little to reach- and free- that mare. How? She tries to imagine how so many of the fragments of the floor above had fallen just right as to create a dome overtop the mare, layered overtop with enough concrete fragments to make it look- on the surface- like it hadn’t happened. Then, of course, there’s the laser weapon strike that had, after punching through some hostiles, wiped out half of the debris covering the dome… yet the dome is still completely covered and hidden, even the part that’s inside the smooth crater.

She enters the crater, trots up to the edge of the debris covering the dome, and pauses. What should she do now? She’s still not sure exactly what the pointy things sticking out of some of the villager’s heads are for, and the mare in the dome has one too. Whatever- it’s not like any of them have tried to attack her. Only the centaurs… That died.

Another scan, now much closer, reveals what looks like air holes… Arrow-straight air holes. This dome was almost certainly manufactured somehow. She tilts her head; perhaps the mare inside can hear her? “Hello?”

Her active scan shows the mare’s head turning towards her, but she hears no response.

“Are you okay?” She knows the strange mare is not; like much of the village, she didn’t get away unscathed. It looks like one of her forelegs is broken- though only in one place.

Silence again.

“Uh, the minotaurs are, um, gone?” she offers.

More silence. She’d released her scanning spell once she found the broken bone; no more need for it and, besides, she has a limited supply of mana. She tilts her head, waiting… and, right before she directs her mana into clearing the debris to open the side of the dome, much of the cement is suddenly covered in a glowing golden… aura, for lack of a better word. As she steps back, levitation forgotten, the concrete seems to levitate itself, the pieces repositioning themselves to form a smooth tunnel before the glow disappears.

She tilts her head. “What…?”

A mint green head pokes out from the end of the tunnel. “They’re gone?” she asks.

“Uh, yes,” Thiz mutters. “They’re gone for good.” She takes a step forward, gazing at the wall of the tunnel. “Is that…?”

“A stone igloo? Yep!” She seems quite excited for a mare with a broken leg. “So, why are you here?”

Thiz draws back at this. “Why am I here…? What…?”

The mare chuckles, glances at the stone debris littering the slope down from her current position to the bottom of the crater upon which Thiz stands, and closes her eyes. Two seconds of glowing aura later- Thiz notices the same aura around the spear on her forehead- and she has a decent staircase to walk down. Which she does, holding her injured foreleg off the ground. “How’d you know I was there?” she asks, as if rephrasing her question.

Thiz looks at the igloo. “Uh… because I’m good at finding things?” She turns back to the mare in front of her, only to find what could only be called a skeptical expression.

“Nuh-uh.”

Thiz shrinks away from her. “Maybe, uh…” She puzzles for several seconds.

“Thought so,” the mare declares. “What’cha hiding?

She averts her gaze as well. “Nothing…?”

“As likely a story as the first,” she states.

“Um…”

“So, is everypony okay?”

“Every… pony?”

She lets out a huff, and glances around. “Tell me later?”

“Uh…”

“Please?”

She tilts her head. “Uh… okay.”

“Promise?”

“... I guess.”

“Pinkie promise?”

“Huh?”

“... Nevermind.”

“So, uh…”

“There’s search parties all over town looking for me?”

“Um…”

She smiles. “Didn’t think so- nopony even knew I was here.” She turns to look back at the debris, her smile vanishing in an instant. “Except Miss Swirl… but she died when the building collapsed.” She shakes her head, turning back to Thiz.

“Uh…”

She sighs. “Say something comprehensible!”

“Huh?”

“Ugh.”

“What?”

“Score! Now, what’s the names of everypony left living?”

“Uh…”

“I thought as much. You know how many?”

“Um…”

“Where are they?”

“Eighty-seven… Oh? That way.” She holds out a hoof.

She looks in that direction for a second, complete with glowing… pointy forehead.

“Eighty seven, you say? When I add us, I get eighty nine…”

“Oh, um, I wasn’t counting…”

“You and the other adult with no cutie mark, who came from out of town to perform a rescue?”

“Huh?”

She tilts her head. “You are from out of town, right?”

“Uh…”

“And you came to perform a rescue?”

“Um…”

“Accidentally?”

“Uh… maybe?”

“And you came with that other earth pony mare?”

“Huh?”

“The one doing a better job than a unicorn doctor.”

“Uh…”

“The blue one.”

Silence, save a tilted head.

“Golden mane?”

Her head tilts the other way.

“No cutie mark?”

Back the first way.

“They’re calling her Whiz?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Can you do that too?”

“Not as- wait, what?”

“What what?”

“Earth pony…?”

“Yes. Do you know anything about Equestria?”

“Uh…”

“How about ponies?”

“Um…”

“Out of town, yes.”

“What…?”

“She’s an earth pony, you’re a pegasus, I’m a unicorn. Now, that healing thing, can you do it too?”

“Um…”

Sigh. “Or should I go to her instead?”

“Uh…”

She looks in the direction Thiz had pointed, briefly. “How badly might a teleport frighten her?”

“Teleport? Nah.”

“Ahh.”

“Uh…”

“Ooh.”

“Um…”

“Moo?”

“What?”

Her horn glows momentarily, and the world disappears.

CRACK!

Whiz leaps rather higher into the air than most earth ponies might when they appear directly behind her.

“Everypony okay?” The minty unicorn instantly asks- even the crowd was startled by her appearance. She gets a round of affirmations while the blue earth pony in front of her calms himself down, and turns to face.

“Please don’t do that again,” she states.

“Um, about that, I think I broke your… friend?” She steps to the side, revealing a dazed Thiz. She then glances between the two blank-flanks for a few seconds. “Sister, perhaps?”

“Uh…”

“Not you too!”

Whiz blinks. “Sorry, it’s just…”

She huffs gently, and offers her leg. “Is there a simple fix for this…?”

More blinking. “Uh, sure… Thiz there should be able to help. Unfortunately…” She turns back towards the cripple she’s in the middle of healing. “They need my skill more.”

The minty mare nods. “Understood.”

And turns back on the cream pegasus behind her. “So, you can do it too,” she mutters, and glances up at the ship. “How about in there?”

“Uh…”

“Oh puh-leeze.”

“Um…”

“Do I have to ask nicely?”

“Uh…”

“Pretty please?”

“Um…”

“With a cherry on top?”

“Huh?”

“Maybe a dictionary?”

“Um…”

“Or a translator?”

“Uh…”

“Maybe a cognitive accelerometer.”

“Huh?”

“Accelerometer?” Whiz inserts, breaking off a building giggle. “What would you need that for?”

“Sounded cool,” the unicorn states simply, before turning back to Thiz. “Say ‘uh’.”

“Uh…”

She turns back to Whiz. “See?”

“Wait, what?”

Whiz doesn’t say anything- rather, she falls down laughing.

The unicorn smiles, turning back towards Thiz. “How many seconds?”

“Huh?”

She sticks her hoof out- her good hoof, she’s now balancing on her hind legs- to press it against Thiz’ chest. “Oh, that’s… Oh, would you look at that.” She flicks her injured hoof a couple times- and, a moment later, flicks off her splints and sets it firmly against the ground. “You do have that healing thing. Come on, there’s ponies to fix!”

“Uh…”

She sighs, and the point on her forehead glows again… as does Thiz, who then lands on top of the similarly glowing pony Whiz had been working on… in midair. “And a three, and a two, and a one, and done!” She drops the ex-cripple pegasus gently back to her hooves, before plopping Thiz down in a heap next to her. “Next?”

Whiz, having stopped laughing at some point, simply stares at her. “How…?”

“True, not many unicorns can use one pony’s magic to heal another, but so?” She glances to the side. “I must apologize, that only works once a day…” Then she looks back at Thiz. “Normally.”

Thiz stares for almost a full second before scrambling to her hooves and darting into the crowd. Once she gets a wall of… ponies, she’d called them, between her and that unicorn, she weaves her way out of the crowd and gallops for the ship. Hopefully, she can hide in here somewhere. Maybe under it? Oh wait- the cockpit door! It doesn’t lead directly to the cockpit; rather, it actually leads into a small airlock, intended for when the main side door is wide open in space. So, she makes a break for the door.

Yes! It’s not locked! She touches the door terminal, checks the lock atmosphere- no mana, Whiz probably set it up for easy access- and flicks the door open.

Only to end up face-to-face with a minty unicorn again.

“Hello again!” the unicorn yaps, and pokes at the door control on the other side of the door. “What’s this do?”

Thiz closes the door in her face, turning away.

Then, with a sharp snap, the unicorn appears in front of her again. “That wasn’t very nice,” she mutters, and holds out a hoof. “The name’s Lyra Heartstrings, by the way. You? … No, I did not just ask you to pass out.” She huffs indignantly. “Seriously.”

Chairs

Crack!

“I think I broke her again.”

Whiz, having only jumped slightly at the lesser noise, turns to the disappointed green villager with the pointy forehead. “Leave her alone?”

The green head bobs gently to the side. “That would work, but then I wouldn’t get answers… Oooh! How about I help with the healing?”

Whiz raises an eyebrow. “I’m plenty good myself,” she states.

“Oh, but I noticed your healing thing seems to go much faster when my unicorn magic has the bones already lined up…”

She raises the other eyebrow. “Oh?” She glances down at the villager she’s treating; this one’s got a crushed wing, and used to have a cracked rib. “Give it a shot.”

Five seconds later, one burnt umber pegasus leaps into the air to make way for the next- and, without further ado, the two move on in their cooperative healing. Whiz hopes that the green villager’s strange ‘magic’ thing won’t run out too soon- it’s reducing the required mana expense for each healing by almost half.

However, no matter how she asks the self-proclaimed ‘unicorn’ how she’s doing it, she only gets a wink in return, never a verbal answer… save the standard “It’s a unicorn thing”.

So, she tries moving on to other questions, even as they finish up with the final major injury- and start moving on to less dangerous ones. The villagers are practically lining up for them now, rather than the previous skittish hiding; as a matter of fact, she’s fairly certain she’s treated more villagers than there had been when she came down already. “What’s your name?” she shoots at the unicorn.

“My name?” The unicorn smiles so wide it’s got to hurt, but shows no sign of pain. “My name is Lyra Heartstrings, how about yours?” She offers a hoof as she speaks- while the glowing spike on her forehead soothes their next patient’s pain; they’ve finished the last of the truly broken bones by now, so her magic isn’t offering much of a mana savings any more.

“Whiz,” she answers, mending the wingless flat-forehead’s cracked rib with an offhand wave. “You said you broke Thiz?”

She nods.

“How so?” Another wave unbruises a pegasus’ flat forehead.

“I introduced myself.”

An eyebrow raises.

The green head tilts. “She fell over.”

“And?”

“It’s not like I asked her to pass out…”

“Ugh…” Whiz hangs her head, and sets off towards the ship. She makes a point of keeping her trot unhurried.

“Ahh… Um, I better go this-” Crack!

Whiz raises an eyebrow, taking a glance back at the suddenly absent unicorn. She emits a heavy sigh- runaways are so annoying- and continues her journey.

“Gah!”

Thiz startles awake, flailing about for a second on the distinctively wet decking, while she tries to blink even more wetness out of her eyes.

“Oh, you’re awake,” the unicorn smiles.

“Uh,” Thiz mumbles, her vision clearing. That disappearing upside-down bucket must have been her imagination.

“Please don’t go to sleep again, I think your- is it friend or sister?- wants to talk to you.”

“What…?” She starts lifting herself to her hooves, scowling at the amount of water all over the floor. The green mare is remaining rather helpfully silent for some reason; as such, it takes her all of two seconds, once she reattains her hooves, to fully process what had been spoken. “Huh? Why?”

“I think it’s because I broke you… twice.”

She tilts her head. “You broke me?”

“Uh, metaphorically, yes. The second time, you actually passed out.” She scowls. “So, is she your friend, sister, really friendly friend, companion, superior, junior, assistant, …?” She trails off.

Thiz spends a second trying to process her list, but eventually gives up. “Um, the… twelfth?”

“Nemesis?”

“WHAT? No! She’s my sister!”

She laughs gently. “Didn’t think it was twelve.” She then looks past Thiz. “Ooh, and look who’s here! Is it okay if I’m here?”

“Uh…” Thiz mutters, turning to look- and spotting an expressionless Whiz, one hoof poised above the top step.

Both mares gaze at Whiz for a couple seconds.

“Uh, is she broken too?”

Thiz leans away from the green mare, looking at her in revulsion. “No!” She looks back towards Whiz, and tilts her head. “I think.”

Whiz blinks, jumps, nearly falls down, and stumbles forwards, quickly reducing to a walk. “No, I’m not broken,” she states.

The unicorn glances between the two for a second. “So, how’d you get here?”

Whiz just raises her eyebrow, while Thiz retorts- very quickly, at that- with a question.

“Who are you?” she asks.

The green unicorn smiles, placing a hoof on her chest. “Me? The name’s Lyra Heartstrings, and you probably forgot I already told you once, right before you passed out. What was that about, anyways?”

“Uh…”

Before Whiz has a chance to add a response of his own, Lyra inserts another statement. “Don’t worry, you probably forgot it alongside my name. Not like I was saying anything important at the time anyways.” Crack!

Thiz jumps back from the very suddenly empty air, striking off the door with a wet splat.

Crack! “Oh, and I can clean this up.” Crack!

Whiz walks towards Thiz. “Well, at least she cleaned up her mess,” she mutters irritably, glancing down at the floor; all of the water- including that soaking Thiz’ coat- had gone with the unicorn the second time she disappeared. “Did she tell you anything before you got back?”

“She’s a unicorn,” Thiz begins. “I’m a pegasus, you’re an ‘earth pony’... and we’re all ponies.”

Whiz nods. “Anything else?”

“What’s a cutie mark?”

Shrug- though it doesn’t work too well. It worked better than last time, though. “No clue.”

“So… why was everyone- erm, she said everypony- staring at your flank…?”

She shakes her head this time. “No clue there either. It’s almost like there’s something there, but there’s nothing.”

“Wait…” Thiz trots to the door, looking down towards the survivors… specifically, their flanks- and withdraws after a few seconds. “Oh.” She looks at her own flank- her own, solid-colored flank. “Oh.”

“What?”

“They’ve all got pictures of some sort on their flanks.”

“Pictures?” Whiz is tempted to look as well, but resists. “Like what?”

“I don’t know- it looks almost like a tattoo.”

“What’s a tattoo?”

“AAAHH!” Both mares leap into the air, flying backwards away from…

From a green unicorn head, sticking out from under that seat.

“Oh, and if you’re talking about our cutie marks, it’s something everypony gets, usually when they’re a foal. Something about representing your destiny…” Crack! “Mine’s related to my muuu-siic!” She sings the last word, simultaneously strumming the lyre in her hooves with her magic, now sitting on the seat instead of under it. The instrument disappears with a gentle pop while she hops out of the seat, twisting to look at it. “These things weren’t designed for ponies, were they?”

“Of… uh…” Thiz mutters, looking towards Whiz.

Whiz raises an eyebrow. “Oh, right,” she mutters, under her breath.

Lyra raises an eyebrow at them. “Lemme guess, you were planning on inviting everypony aboard?”

“What makes you think that?”

“You opened the whole wall, but you’ve got not one but four smaller doors you could have used.” She points to the nearest airlock door.

Thiz looks at Whiz, who sighs.

“Yes, if they want to,” she states.

The unicorn nods. “Of course they’ll want to- everypony’s only been staying here because it’s too dangerous- even with an escort- to travel the road to Equestria.” She glances out the door. “For an earth pony, at least. There’s a reason there’s so few unicorns and pegasi.”

“Ahh… Um…”

She glances at the seats. “How much time will you need?”

“Um…”

“So close the door and open it when you’re ready- I’ll go stall for time.” Crack!

“Uh…”

The two mares look at each other.

“What just happened?” Thiz asks.

“Hey everypony! The minotaurs have been chased off- but those two are going to offer us a ride once they finish cleaning up!”

They gaze out at the voice drifting in from outside.

“I think she just happened,” Whiz mutters.

“Can we leave her behind?” Thiz asks.

Whiz shakes her head. “No- she might have figured us out, but she’s also helping us hide it.” She looks at her sister- and the shuttle shifts slightly as the frame takes on the weight of the door once again. “It’ll be safest to play along.”

Crack!

The two mares look up, having been warned by the polite knock on the exterior wall… Nevermind that the wall is far too thick- and well insulated- for a simple knock to penetrate it without also shaking the shuttle.

“Someone- er, pony- hurt?” Whiz asks.

The minty unicorn smiles. “Nope- and while nopony here will really notice the someone versus somepony thing, the ponies in Equestria will.”

“Huh?”

Whiz steadfastly resists the urge to facepalm- Lyra, however, seems to have chosen not to resist. It looks downright painful, but she doesn’t seem to care.

“How did I see that coming?” Lyra asks rhetorically. “It’s because everypony around here has been stuck living close to minotaurs- who use the everyone variant. There have been occasional visitors, some friendly, some not… this is the first attack I’ve heard of in this normally relatively safe area.”

“Sorry?” Thiz mutters.

Whiz very nearly fails to resist the urge to facepalm- facehoof- again.

“Oh, no worries, it’s only natural. I just hope you don’t meet Twilight.”

“Twilight?” Whiz asks. “Is that…?”

“Somepony I know who happens to be a librophagic scientist? Yep. And you think I’m bad.”

“She’s not here, is she?”

“Nah- but I share a hometown with her. Anyways, are these…?” She indicates the reshaped seats filling much of the room.

“Our new seats?”

“I take it they’re not final?”

“Oh?”

“Well, those old ones have all sorts of straps and brackets on them, but these are little more than glorified stools.”

“Uh… Yes, but we don’t plan on moving very quickly with a shipful of ponies, so that shouldn’t be a problem… for now.” She looks at the half-transformed seat in front of her, the back floating casually into the air to join its brethren in a pile. “We’ll work on better high-speed seating later. Is there something you need?”

“Uh, no, not really… I thought I’d let you know everypony’s gathering their stuff. Celestia’s going to be lowering the sun soon-”

“WHAT?”

“Oh? You come from someplace where the sun lowers itself or something…?”

“Uh…”

“Ahh. Well, here on Equus, Princess Celestia controls the sun while her sister, Luna, does the moon.” She looks towards the wall that had been open earlier. “We’re going to want to have a… history lesson before you run into too many ponies.”

The two hornless mares look at each other for a second, then finally nod.

“Probably the… prudent choice,” Whiz mutters.

“Maybe if she’s less annoying,” Thiz utters under her breath.

Whiz looks at her sister briefly. “Speaking of which,” she turns back to Lyra, “you seem to have changed?”

“Changed? Like how?”

“Uh, like not poking your nose everywhere it doesn’t belong?”

“Yes, that. I… thought it’d be better if I wasn’t quite so nosy.”

Thiz raises an eyebrow, but Whiz speaks before she has a chance to speak herself. “Better how?”

“Because…” She lets out a little sigh. “There’s something in the air in here, isn’t there?”

Whiz lets out a little chuckle. “Oh yes, lots of somethings- nitrogen and oxygen, mostly.”

Lyra waves a hoof dismissively. “Those are components of the air… and I’m not talking about dust either. I’m talking about the… something I can see transforming that chair.”

Both hornless mares look at the chair in question, which Whiz has almost finished reshaping.

“See?” Whiz asks.

She tilts her head slightly. “Well, not so much see, as feel. Earlier, when we started the whole healing thing, I didn’t think about your, um, strange magic- I only thought about your pony magics. That must have been when it happened.”

The seat gets abandoned, the two mares directing their attention towards the unicorn. Whiz nods for her to continue.

“When my foreleg was mended when I touched Thiz, I assumed it was something similar to pegasus healing magic- which normally only works for self-healing.” She smiles lightly at Thiz’ expression. “So it wasn’t. But that’s the problem, because what I did next… I placed her against that crippled pegasus and, on that assumption, cast a spell to amplify the effect.

“What that spell does… It’s more of a freeing spell than a directive spell; if she hadn’t wanted to heal the cripple, or if her magic facilities were already exhausted from another casting of that spell, nothing would have happened. The spell works by creating a channel between the caster and the primary target- that’d be you, Thiz- in order to channel my unicorn magic through you as the desired facet of your magic, being the healing. It worked- I felt it doing just that- and I assumed the cripple’s recovery rate was so high because of the already very powerful self-healing magic I assumed you had.

“However… I’m beginning to suspect something else crossed that channel during that time. It’s supposed to be a one-way channel for my power to flow through- but there’s a reason we never cast it on unicorns: The feedback can be deadly.” She shudders. “I don’t know what it was, but ever since then, I could feel it every time you healed somepony.

“Once I got everypony getting ready on their end, I spent some time trying to see how close I’d have to be to feel your work in here; sensing spells told me you were manipulating these seats. Only, no matter how close I got, I couldn’t feel it. Once I teleported in, even from across the room, it’s glaringly obvious.

“But that’s not why I came in; I was willing to wait for you to open the door to experiment further.” She smiles. “I did feel you closing the door from across the plaza.” Her smile fades once again. “Rather… five minutes ago, I realized I felt some of that… energy… in myself.”

Author's Note

So, how are we doing?