The Harmony Battery

Chapter 1: Bolts and Face-Melting Screwdrivers

A quick glance to her console's speedometer told Rainbow Dash that she was travelling at over seven hundred meters-per-second.

The Rainbolt weaved through the asteroid-filled space, its compact, angular hull having no trouble manoeuvring past the fairly-spaced-apart chunks of rock.

Several empty energy-drink cans, a miniature basketball and a digital tablet displaying an unread page from the latest Daring Do book rolled around the back of the ship's cool-blue metal cockpit interior.

“Applejack,” Rainbow said to the blank computer screen to her left. “Stupid thing...”

Lifting up her left fore-hoof from gripping the flight stick, she lightly tapped the monitor and was awarded with a display of animated grey static.

“Damn it,” she muttered, deciding to kick the metal console underneath. After a loud thunk, the screen finally came to life and displayed the face of a surprised mare.

“U-uh, greetings, Lieutenant,” the mare on the screen said.

“Cocoa? Where's your captain?” Rainbow Dash asked, her eyes focused forward while she effortlessly manoeuvred her fighter ship between three large asteroids.

“Actually, right here—”

“Rainbow Dash!” Applejack said frantically after shoving Cocoa aside, sitting down on her seat. “Are ya picking 'em up too?”

“Yeah,” Rainbow answered, soaring over another large asteroid before dodging two smaller ones. “They breached the perimeter about twenty seconds ago.”

“There should be six of 'em,” said Applejack. “Closing in on our asteroid cluster at four-hundred meters-per-second. We've only got a few minutes a'fore they get within firin' range of us.”

Rainbow's body was planted against the back of her seat as the thrust from her ship's powerful engines continued to push the space vessel forward. Despite the enchantments on her cockpit to lessen the g-force from the impossibly high accelerations, Rainbow still found it difficult to move her body.

The metallic blue finish to the Rainbolt's miraculously smooth hull gleamed against the distant sun's orange rays, and its two curved and wide triangular wings circled each other in spirals while the ship danced in acrobatic barrel-rolls and turns.

“Don't fire unless they show signs of aggression,” Applejack said while adjusting the slightly-lopsided Stetson on her head. “Try 'n contact 'em first.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know all the protocols,” Rainbow said. “It's not like you were expecting anyone else, right?”

“Aside from the next freighter that's supposed to be due in forty minutes,” responded Applejack. “We're always expectin' pirates, Rainbow. That's why we've got you.”

“You've made a good choice to have me, then,” Rainbow said, grinning while Applejack rolled her eyes at her cocky sheen. “Think it's FlimFlam goons? Maybe Hawks.”

“After the Namyda thing, I suspect the FlimFlams are still licking their wounds,” Applejack chuckled.

“Yeah, those stupid Super-Speedy-thingy-whatever things kinda backfired on them,” said Rainbow. “At least these guys here are clocking in supersonic.”

“Just get to them quick, and fly safe of course,” Applejack said. “Might as well as keep this transmission on so we can keep in contact.”

“Yep.”

Finally, the Rainbolt cleared the asteroid field and soared freely through open space. Her body was more heavily pressed to her seat as her ship continued to accelerate, the speedometer reading speeds at nearly fourteen-hundred meters-per-second.

The distance from the six unidentified signatures on her radar console read less than one-hundred kilometers away, prompting her to release her grip on the flight stick as she flicked a switch on the side of her helmet.

“This is First Lieutenant Rainbow Dash of the Shadowbolts, Special Force branch Alpha under the Wonderbolts of the Royal Equestrian Navy. Identify yourselves,” she said into her helmet microphones with poise.

Silence stretched for several moments, Rainbow's broadcast not provoking any response from the quickly approaching spacecraft. The proximity on her radar read a distance of less than eighty kilometers from her targets, the rapidly declining number causing Rainbow to fidget in anxiousness.

Looking through the view from her cockpit, she could vaguely make out the six ships as distant tiny black dots against the colourful canvas of space.

“This is Lieutenant Rainbow Dash. You are in a restricted area,” Rainbow spoke, her voice a hint more threatening. “Identify yourselves, or I will be forced open fire on you.”

This time, the speakers inside of her helmet blared to life with an introduction of loud static until a raspy female voice began to speak.

“...And what do you expect to do against six of us?” it teased.

“I'm glad you asked.” Rainbow Dash grinned, clearing her throat. “First, I am flying a Shadowbolt Mark-II; a special interceptor-class fighter ship only assigned to my unique branch. Second, I'm armed with crystalline Lancer Hull-Melter missiles and dual Hydra Multi-Chamber Gauss Cannons with enough calibre to rip through adamantium. They are guided by prototype pseudo-future-seeking tracking technology only developed by Starswirl Innovations who are also exclusively a part of the Equestrian Forces. Third, the Shadowbolt Mark-II is also the fastest fighter vessel hull—”

“—In the universe,” the voice interrupted calmly.

“...And mine is—“

“—Custom fit with all those good rigs only you can go on to list forever. Ever the boastful one, Rainbow Dash.” The voice chuckled. “Regardless, through all of your yapping, we already have a lock on you.”

“And I, you... Gilda,” Rainbow sneered. “I knew it was gonna be Hawks.”

“I appreciate the welcome,” Gilda responded, her voice grating against Rainbow Dash's ears like sandpaper. “So what's gonna happen, Rainbow Dash? Do we have to blast you to into space-scrap to get to the miners?”

“Very funny, but you forget that your crappy ships won't be able to keep up with me,” she retorted. “I bet I could fly faster than your ships with my own two wings.”

“It's still six-on-one.”

“And I've killed better pilots with fancier ships in bigger groups,” Rainbow pointed out. “You know what happened at Virolaut.”

“There were five Shadowbolts at Virolaut,” Gilda defended, her deep voice losing its composure.

“And we took down a battlecruiser of the Capra Cartel no less,” Rainbow added. “Never-mind the entire fleet-escort.”

Gilda pointedly went silent.

Beginning to slightly divert her ship's course as it breached the twenty-kilometer distance mark from the targets, the Rainbolt began to circle the group like a shark. All six ships had stopped moving, and the g-force that was pushing Rainbow Dash to her seat loosened while she maintained a steady speed.

“Turn back now or that hefty bounty on your head will convince me to take action,” she threatened.

“Big girl talk, now,” Gilda taunted.

“At least I grew up,” Rainbow shot back. “I know what's best for myself and others.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Dash. As far as I'm concerned, you're still the most ignorant person I know.”

“Don't even start with that. You chose this life!” Rainbow scolded. “What did you hope to accomplish here, Gilda?”

“To be honest, I wasn't expecting you,” Gilda snarled back. “But you shouldn't underestimate your enemies so easily, Rainbow Dash. One slip and you're done for.”

“It's hard to overestimate people who stoop lower than you,” Rainbow said. “You already know what will happen if we dance here. Are you gonna leave, or am I going to have to do this the hard way?”

“You're not worth the effort, Dash. We're leaving,” Gilda said bitterly in submission. “And you should really drop the habit of colouring everything blue or rainbows. It doesn't make your ship very... intimidating.”

“It's a necessity.” Rainbow shrugged. “The paint job makes my ship fast.”

“I'll be seeing you soon.”

“You'd better hope not,” Rainbow threatened, but went unheard as the six pirate ships disappeared into nothingness. Another voice began to speak through her helmet's speakers.

“'Soon?' What'd she mean by that?”

“Nothing, Ay-Jay. Just hollow threats.” Rainbow Dash sighed. After lightly pulling on a lever to tune down her propulsion power, she twisted the flight stick in her hooves and began to turn the Rainbolt back towards the asteroid field. "They were already setting their warp coordinates as soon as they realized who they were messing with."

“I don't doubt that,” Applejack chuckled. “After we fill this freighter and the next, we'll head back to the station.”

“Alrighty,” Rainbow responded.

“In two days, we've got an important meeting to go to. I need you to be there, Rainbow Dash. Princess' orders, 'n all.”

::::~::::

“Ya got any sevens?” a stallion asked the pony in front of him.

“Nope. Go fish,” the other stallion responded.

“Dangit. Got any—”

“Cal, Dish, get back to your stations ya lazy bums. We're almost done this run,” Applejack ordered from the front of the room. Cal and Dish grumbled, dropping their playing cards and getting up from their table to get back to work. “We were almost raided by pirates, an' you two are sittin' there playin' cards.”

“Sorry, Cap'n,” said Cal as he plopped down onto a seat in front of a computer terminal.

A dozen ponies were seated around the relatively tight quarters of a small control room where the air was cold and tense. The greenish-grey metal of the walls and floor never made much for an exciting work atmosphere.

Most of the ponies were seated in front of computers that gave off dim, white glows, many of them clad in casual wear enough to keep themselves warm.

“Mining cycle six just completed, cycle seven is starting now,” one stallion called out, seated in front of a computer screen that displayed the power-usage gauges of the ship's quantum incision lasers.

“Cargo capacity of the McIntosh VI freighter at seventy-eight percent. Approximately one-thousand meters cubed remain,” said Dish who had taken his seat at a different computer terminal for fleet status.

“Good. Shut off lasers four and five, that should be enough for now," Applejack ordered. Among the rest of the ponies in the room, she was the only one standing. "Shut down the others once cycle seven is complete.”

The gentle roars of the mana-nuclear reactors nestled in the bowels of the craft softened as their workloads decreased. Lowly hums from air ducts and the many electro-magic subsystems were also among the many continuous noises vibrating throughout the ship.

Through the large observation window at the front of the room, a massive golden-brown hued asteroid covered most of the view. Applejack's eyes wearily wandered the rough texture of the rock as it blocked out the endless corridors of space behind it.

Three long beams of thin white lasers originating from various points on the vessel were connected with the asteroid, cutting off sizable chunks of rock and ore. Non-piloted worker drones hovered around the space, collecting the pieces of rock that were separated from the main body before zooming off out of sight from the observation window.

Applejack and her crew had been at work for several hours. Coupled with the pirate situation that she had Rainbow Dash resolve moments earlier, her legs felt stiff and her mind was focused on getting the task done.

“Cycle seven is complete. Shutting off quantum lasers one, two, and three,” a mare in front of a large terminal said as she flicked a few switches on her console. The three beams of light attacking the asteroid blinked out of existence.

“Captain Applejack,” another mare called out from her seat. Applejack turned from her view of the observation window and looked her way. “Incoming transmission from the McIntosh VI.”

“Alright, Cocoa,” she responded, making her way over to the mare's computer station. “Sorry about shovin' you aside earlier.”

“It's no problem, Captain,” Cocoa said, moving out of the way to let her sit down on her seat.

Displayed on the monitor of the communication console was the face of a yellow-coated stallion wearing a similar brown vest and hat to Applejack.

“Cuz'n Applejack! The McIntosh VI is fully loaded an' about to warp out to the station to unload, thanks to your hard work.” The stallion on the screen smiled, his lively voice blaring through the computer's speakers.

“Braeburn, all I did was boss my crew around.” She rolled her eyes.

Applejack's ship began to rotate and the asteroid disappeared from the observation window, the distant form of the McIntosh VI cargo ship taking its place.

“I'll still never understand why you're out here. Ya could do something more interesting than sittin' inside of a chunk of metal in the middle of space, blasting rocks with photons,” Braeburn commented.

“Why do my employees like to tease me?” Applejack mock-frowned.

“I reckon it's the fact that you're out here doin' the same work as us lowly miners,” Braeburn chuckled. “Not that it's a bad thing!”

The freighter's massive hull that mostly consisted of its eight large cargo containers dwarfed even the largest of asteroids in the asteroid field. Three large mana-burner engines pushed the thousands of tons of steel and cargo, their powerful blue flames visually lengthening as the freighter readied itself for warp.

“All multistage mana-coils are conducting maximum power. Engines are fully piped,” a mare's voice called out from the background of Braeburn's transmission. “We are one-hundred percent aligned with warp coordinates, and passage will open in t-minus thirty-five seconds.”

“Well, we better get goin'. I think cousin Red Delicious is gonna be bringing the McIntosh III up here in our place,” Braeburn said, pulling thick black straps from his seat over himself. “An' be sure to give my thanks to Miss Dash. I'm always thankful when she saves our hides with that fancy ship o' hers.”

“I will. I'll see you back at the station, Braeburn,” Applejack responded before giving him a final nod, standing up after terminating the call.

She returned to the observation deck, watching as the McIntosh VI finally transitioned into warp. The massive freighter, weighing several hundreds of thousands of tons with its payload, was but a bright flash before disappearing completely before Applejack could blink once.

After the ship had left, nothing then obscured her view of the vast portrait of space. Applejack never got sick of stargazing regardless of how much of her life she had bestowed among the stars; the strange ethereal shapes and vibrant iridescence of the distant galaxies dotted with millions of stars often brought her mind to somnolent ease.

It was like a painting that was both dark and bright, and dull but bleeding an everlasting spectrum of colours. Even if only for awhile, she wanted to reach out and embrace the vivid scene that she could not easily describe with diction.

And yet, it taunted her like a faded kiss.

“Dammit,” exclaimed Cal, snapping Applejack out of her stupor. She sighed, making her way over to the distressed employee who was casting a glare at his computer screen.

“What is it?” she asked, walking up to the stallion's station.

“Uh, nothing,” he responded, scrambling to press a few buttons before Applejack could get a good look at his screen.

“Your employees really suck at Hoof Fighter,” snickered Rainbow Dash through the computer's speakers.

“Dangit, Rainbow,” Applejack groaned. “Stop using our bandwidth for video games.”

::::~::::

“...And by replacing the palladium alloy mana-coil with a germanium-based coil, I can increase the efficiency of the arcane-flow by approximately forty percent,” said Twilight while she adjusted the small video camera of the computer monitor beside her.

A lone cone of yellow light shining from an overhead lamp in the otherwise dark room bathed a screwdriver-shaped device within Twilight's magical grasp. Looking down at the pile of mechanical components in front of her, she picked out a small metallic coil and levitated it up to level with the device.

“I am now removing the palladium coil from the Portable Microwave Mark-VII,” Twilight told the web-cam.

She unscrewed the bottom of the handle of the Portable Microwave Mark-VII and pulled out a metal coil similar in appearance to the one she had picked up from the pile. Placing the old metal coil onto the table to her side, she carefully slid the new one in its place and re-attached the handle's lid.

“Now we just have to test,” Twilight said, shutting off the video camera.

“And... do you need the old coil anymore?” asked a boyish voice to her left. Twilight rolled her eyes under plastic safety goggles.

“No, Spike, we don't need it anymore,” she said, smirking while she turned to face her lab assistant. “Why?”

“Um, nothing...” Spike mumbled.

“Oh, Spike,” Twilight giggled, levitating the little metal coil from the table and giving it to Spike. “You can have it.”

“Sweet!” Spike exclaimed, hungrily grabbing the metal coil in his claws and popping it into his mouth. “Ywou're thwe bwest, Twi!”

After switching off the small overhead lamp, Twilight flicked the room's main light switch. White light from the large ceiling lamps bathed the room, the many white tables and stainless-steel sinks shimmering under the bright luster.

“Hello, Twilight!” sung a cheery voice from the other side of the room. An overly-energetic mare wearing a similar lab-coat to Twilight's was hopping in place at the open doorway, a shiny name-tag reading 'Dr. Pie' gleaming from her coat's breast pocket. “What'cha doin'?”

“Hi, Pinkie Pie,” Twilight greeted. “We just finished replacing all of the components for the PM Mark-VII.”

Pinkie scrunched up her nose in thought.

“But my last name isn't Mark,” she pointed out.

Spike raised an eyebrow while Twilight rolled her eyes.

“No, Pinkie, the Portable Microwave Mark-VII,” she giggled. “Anyways, we were just about to do some testing. You can watch if you want.”

“Okie-dokie,” Pinkie said, closing the door and hopping over to the pair. “I was gonna ask if you guys wanted to go for lunch, but I always like watching sciency stuff.”

“Story of my life,” Twilight remarked, smirking.

She set the PM Mark-VII on the table in front of her and began to focus on her magic, long tendrils of warm magenta light beginning to exude from her horn and feed into the device.

“Spike, while I charge this for a little bit, go over to the fridge and get me one of the frozen TV-dinners, please,” Twilight said, her eyes shut while magic emitted from her horn. Thin blue strips on the handle of the PM Mark-VII began to glow an ethereal blue.

“Alright,” Spike said, walking over to the fridge at other side of the room. He returned to Twilight and Pinkie while holding a small cardboard box, bits of frost clinging to the its lid.

“Thanks,” said Twilight as she looked up, magic no longer flowing from her horn. She took the box from Spike, set it down on the table and slowly peeled one of its corners open.

“Is this safe?” Spike asked while pulling plastic safety goggles over his eyes, Pinkie following suit.

“It should be,” Twilight said. “The last models didn't yield too many problems aside from efficiency issues.”

Picking up the PM Mark-VII, Twilight fed its thin-barrelled end through the box's opening and began to turn a few dials on its handle.

“Mashed potatoes and gravy,” Pinkie whispered, reading the contents of the box. “Whoever invented gravy must be one of the greatest ponies in history,” she said dreamily.

“You're making me more hungry,” Spike said to Pinkie while Twilight fiddled with the device. “Even though that palladium was pretty tasty.”

“I wish I could eat metal or gems,” Pinkie said. “I would totally bake a metal-flavoured pie.”

She paused.

“Actually that sounds kind of painful for some reason,” she whispered. “No offence, Spike.”

“None taken. You're the one with the doctorate,” said Spike. He muttered, “Somehow...”

“Spike!” Twilight exclaimed, shooting him a brief, scolding glare before turning back to the PM Mark-VII.

“It's okay, Twilight!” Pinkie giggled. “I get that a lot. You have to admit, he has a point—me being the premium party-pony of Scientistville and all. Never-mind just the Starswirl Innovations building.”

For a few moments, the two of them watched Twilight work with different levels of amusement, the soft clicks from the PM Mark-VII's switches being the only sound in the room before Pinkie broke the silence.

“Did you use palladium for the coil?” she asked Twilight.

“Mhmm,” Twilight answered, fiddling with more of the device's controls while she spoke. “Well, the previous model anyways.”

“Huh,” Pinkie said. “What're you using now?”

After giving a last look-over with the PM Mark-VII's settings, Twilight smiled in satisfaction.

“Germanium,” she finally answered.

“Germa—wait!” Pinkie exclaimed, but was too late.

Twilight flicked the power switch on the side of the PM Mark-VII.

The room was engulfed in a blinding white light.

::::~::::

“Ugh,” Twilight groaned before shaking her mane dry. “How could I be so stupid!”

“It's okay, Twilight! At least it wasn't as bad as your single-pixel TV idea,” said Pinkie while scrubbing her own damp mane with a towel. “There's a reason why Doctor Amethyst said not to use anything but palladium or less mana-conductive metals. At least until we find a better way to stabilize arcane-flow.”

“I know, I know...” said Twilight, levitating off her soaked lab-coat and placing it on the floor. “I thought I could pull it off by using an alloy of only thirty-seven percent germanium.”

“The low-class rail-guns use a twenty-three percent germanium-based alloy for their spires,” Pinkie said matter-of-factly. Twilight winced.

The two scientists and lab assistant stood in a brightly-lit hallway, puddles of water littering the white ceramic floor between them and an opened doorway that billowed out remnant trails of smoke. Several ponies, most of them clad in white lab-coats, had gathered to see the phenomenon.

Sitting on the floor beside Twilight lay the innate form of the PM Mark-VII prototype.

“At least we got of there alright,” Twilight said from under her now-frizzly-and-dry mane. “Thank Celestia the sprinklers came on when they did.”

After a moment of silence and more towel-scrubbing, Twilight levitated up the PM Mark-VII with enough care to handle an extremely-volatile doomsday device. With a cautious twist, she unscrewed the handle's lid and removed the metallic coil from within.

“Okay, Spike,” Twilight said while hovering the objects over to him, “take this down to Weapon's Testing.”

“Uh, alright,” he said, shrugging out of his towels and taking the objects with his claws before turning to walk down the hallway. “You owe me, though; that guy kind of creeps me out.”

“Just give it to him and leave,” Twilight said. She sighed, turning to face Pinkie after Spike had made it further down the hallway. “Another failed experiment.”

“Hey, there's no need to be so grumpy over it!” said Pinkie, cheerfully. “Besides, most of our scientific breakthroughs are from stuff like this.”

Suddenly, the large double-doors at the end of the hallway burst open and a pegasus clumsily flew through after Spike had pushed passed them.

“Derpy!” Pinkie called, wincing as Derpy accidentally crashed into a group of ponies on her way over before finally setting down before the two mares.

“Hiya, Pinkie! And it's actually Derpy-Bot-number-8502,” it said in a synthetic yet lively voice.

“Oh. I can never tell you a part from the original aside from your voices,” Pinkie admitted.

“What can I say? My master is an expert at this sciency stuff,” the Derpy-Bot proudly said, puffing out its chest before turning to Twilight. “Oh! I've got a letter for you, Doctor Sparkle.”

“A letter?” Twilight asked, raising an eyebrow. “Like a package?”

“Nope, just a letter.”

“But, nopony sends physical mail unless—”

“Yep-yep,” the Derpy-Bot interrupted, reaching into one of its saddlebags and taking out a smooth papyrus envelope with its mouth. Sealing the lips of the letter was a golden sticker that was embossed with a mark of a sun-half-moon.

“The Royal Seal...” Twilight said to herself, her eyes widening in recognition.

“You know how it goes. Digital stuff's too easy to steal nowadays,” the Derpy-Bot said before giving a small salute. “Without further ado, I must be off!”

“Goodbye, Derpy-Bot-number-8502!” Pinkie said, giving a retaliation salute before the Derpy-Bot turned and flew down the hallway from the direction it had come from.

“Stickers like this are enchanted to only allow the intended reader to open it,” murmured Twilight, slowly rotating the envelope in front of her. “The only other ones I've ever gotten were when Princess Celestia took me as her own personal protege and when I was hired at Starswirl Innovations.”

“Ooh, then I wonder what this one's about!” Pinkie said, squishing her head beside Twilight's while she opened the envelope.

Twilight gently pushed her aside and read out loud enough for the both of them to hear.

My faithful student, Dr. Twilight Sparkle,

I have a mission for you to embark on, and it will not be an easy task.

An untouched planet in the Archer system, known as Archer III, has caught our interest, and we have commissioned several parties within the Equestrian Nation to do a colonization attempt. In two days, there will be a meeting in a space station owned by Sweet Asteroid Acres that is orbiting the neighbouring planet, Archer IV. All who are important to this operation are going to be present at this meeting, and I want you to attend.

I have arranged for transport to include both you and your colleague, Pinkie Pie, that will leave tonight. I am sorry for such a brief warning, but any inconveniences that this will cause you or Pinkie will be compensated. However, you will be gone for a month if not a few, at least.

I wish for this to be a good learning experience for the two of you.

Rest assured, my sister will also be personally attending this operation. More will be revealed when you reach the station tomorrow.

With love,

Princess Celestia

"...Pinkie, pack your things," said Twilight, pausing for a moment before taking off into a gallop. Shrugging to herself, Pinkie followed.

::::~::::

Intel

The Wonderbolts are the elite fighting-force branch of the Royal Equestrian Navy (REN). They serve both as the Navy's backbone and also as the spearhead for most military operations. Only the best, for both planetary and astral combat, are recruited into it. They also harness the best technology the Nation has to offer.

The Shadowbolts, formed only roughly six decades ago by Captain Firefly and Second Lieutenant Surprise, is a special branch of the Wonderbolts dedicated to combat the rise of organized crime. While a legitimate part of the REN, their focus is to act as highly-trained mercenaries which companies may hire for security; intercepting pirate raids on mining operations or trade routes are some of their most common tasks. Some of their more risk-intensive jobs include skirmishes on bandit outposts or patrolling hostile-controlled space.

While acting as independent mercenaries, many Shadowbolts love to modify their already top-notch equipment. Coupled with the combat skill of a Wonderbolt, this turns the Shadowbolts into possibly the best geared and one of the most fearsome fighting forces within the Equestrian Nation.

::::~::::