Starshot: Bats of the High Wilderness

by Jackxter

Chapters

In the Dark of the Night
Warp Song
The New Lunar Republic
Captain's Fall
The Wounded
Firefall
The Dagger in Reach
Big Blue
No Gods
Flashes in the Dark
Tyrant's End
No Masters

In the Dark of the Night

Chapter Music (First Half)

“In the dark of the night I was tossing and turning…”

Shadows upon a cavern’s walls. Attention was drawn to the largest.

“And the nightmare I had was as bad as could be.”

Murmurs, chirps, and screeches. Some content, others not so much.

“It scared me out of my wits. A princess falling to bits...”

Great, blue wings extended. A wicked, fanged grin appeared above a gathering crowd.

“But then I opened my eyes and the nightmare was me!”

A wicked cackle echoed deep into the bat ponies’ mountain home, and more and more flocked to its origin. The source gazed upon them, satisfaction in her eyes.

However, not all were taken by it. A few cowered slightly at the sight of her, backing away into the dark corners of the caverns.

“Thestrals!” the mysterious alicorn called. “There is no reason to fear me. I am no stranger to you, after all. Do you not recognize the gaze of your loving princess?”

More murmurs of both excitement and confusion came. Various bat-winged ponies broke into arguments.

“I’ve seen her before… in my dreams!”

“So have I. She’s… she’s the one who will bring forth the era of the bat.”

“What?! I’ve never seen er’ before! What are yeh’ on about?”

“She's probably just another has-been trying to take advantage of us! Remember Sombra?!”

“Aye, yer’ right, lass. Why should we be trustin’ her?”

The figure was about to respond, anger in her eyes, but before she could, a cold, logical voice interrupted her.

“Because she is no Sombra.”

It came from a blue bat pony clad in black armor. One with red, glowing eyes. He clanked forward, standing before the rock the alicorn was using to address the crowd.

“With all due respect, Grand Admiral,” another bat pony questioned. “How do you know this?”

“We’ve trusted her in the past,” the ‘grand admiral’ said, narrowing his eyes. “For she’s correct in saying she’s no stranger. The legend, her voice, her infliction, height, and mane... it all leads to one conclusion: this is Princess Luna.”

There were several gasps. A few more spontaneous arguments.

“Princess Luna... but better,” the alicorn corrected, grinning. “Though I’m glad to see your mind hasn’t dulled, Grand Admiral Warp Song.”

He merely nodded in response.

The alicorn then glanced towards the crowd. “Indeed, in body, I am your princess. However, in spirit and mind, I am now something much more. Some of you appear to know of the Prophecy of the Endless Night. And for those who believed, know that your faith has been rewarded. May those that have wronged you tremble in terror, for that prophecy has come true at long last! And now, it stands in front of you, asking you to call it by a new name: Nightmare Moon.”

The Grand Admiral narrowed his unreadable eyes. “How may we serve you, Nightmare Moon?”

“My dearest Warp Song,” Nightmare Moon cood, stepping down beside him. “Ever loyal, despite all that transpired.” She gazed at the crowd. “I’m sure most of you know his story, don’t you? It’s likely you have similar ones. For years, he served the Seventh Fleet with honor, defending Equestria’s waters from all that dared to cross his path. And how was this service rewarded? With nothing but the public’s spite! Who here has shared a similar fate?!”

The crowd stirred, murmuring in agreement. Some even loudly agreed, shouting things like ‘Aye’, and ‘I have’. At the very least, the majority appeared to be listening firmly to what she had to say.

“My loyalty to you never ended, my princess,” the Grand Admiral said. “The same goes for many of us, I'd imagine.”

“Yet I didn’t earn it,” Nightmare Moon said. “Not while I was Luna. When the populace’s distrust and racism towards your kind finally boiled over, I stood idly by, just like my sister. We fought against it with words, yes, but in the end, we bowed to mob rule. For we both failed to accept the grimmest of truths: real power only grows from the tip of a spear.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I am no longer so naive. And to prove it, I come here this night as the bearer of good news: things are about to change in Equestria. And you will be the vanguard of that change, my children of the night. I can handle my sister on my own. However, I cannot handle both her and her army. That role will fall to you. Many of you are trained soldiers, but all who can wield a spear or sword may join. Together, we will right the wrongs of the past, overthrow my cowardly sister, and ensure equal rights for all ponies.”

She took a deep breath, then bellowed: “WHO IS WITH ME?!”

“I am!” the Grand Admiral said firmly.

And that was all that was needed to begin a civil war. For what was once a single voice of agreement quickly turned into a roar of approval.

“Me, too!”

“Death to Celestia!”

“Justice for thestrals! Equality for all ponies!”

“Where did I put my armor? Can’t wait to wear it again!”

“Nightmare Moon is best princess!”

When it finally died down, Nightmare Moon met them with a smile. One which almost seemed heart-felt.

“Excellent!” she said, a hint of a laugh in her words. “Excellent! I knew I could count on you!”

“What strategy shall we employ, princess?” Song asked.

“I will leave that to you, Grand Admiral,” Nightmare Moon grinned. “Your objectives are self-obvious.”

“Very well,” he nodded. “And when shall we begin?”

“On the 10th Day of the Bright Moon,” Nightmare Moon began. “The moon shall rise early, two hours before normal, and the sun will pierce the skies with its unwelcome light for the last time. Upon that moment, Celestia will fall, and a new age of Equestria shall begin.” She took another deep breath, and roared: “AN AGE OF ENDLESS NIGHT!.!.!”

“HOORAH!” the crowd roared.

“IN THE DARK OF THE NIGHT, TERROR WILL STRIKE THEM!”

“TERROR’S THE LEAST WE CAN DO!”

“IN THE DARK OF THE NIGHT, SHADOWS WILL BREW!”

“SOON ALL WILL KNEEL, TO A NIGHTMARE COME REAL!

IN THE DARK OF THE NIGHT, THEY’LL. BE. THROUGH!.!.!”

1012 YEARS LATER

PRESENT

Luna sat at her desk in her quarters, flabbergasted by one of the few, potent memories she had as the Nightmare. It was her furthest fall from grace by far. Where she had manipulated a desperate, angry people into becoming a large part of her armies. She had forgiven herself for much, but that...

"No," Luna said, to nobody in particular. "No, it wasn't me. It was her. It was always her."

"Captain," the computer suddenly droned, almost making her jump out of her seat.

"Y-Yes, computer?" she asked.

"Your presence is requested on the bridge. We're approaching the --ERROR-- system."

Luna's eyes widened. She must have lost track of time. It was actually amusing to a degree. She had spent the first thirteen hours of the hyperspace trip gazing at the clock, waiting for their arrival, only to get lost in her memories in the last two.

If given the choice, she'd have taken the latter. Her memories weren't exactly the happiest most of the time.

Nonetheless, she wouldn't let them completely sour her mood. This would be the first system they would be visiting after Kumquat. And it would be a completely different beast than that adventure. Partially because…

"This system happens to have a Red Hypergiant at its center," Ocellus eagerly announced.

Luna took her seat on the captain's chair, Spike giving her a welcoming smile as she did.

Ocellus continued. "One that's actually visible from Equis. All it takes is a small telescope!"

"Quite right, my astronomically astute friend," Doctor Whooves said. "Most hypergiants should be to a certain degree. I can't recall the name of this one, however."

"Scorpan Major," Luna stated, smiling whimsically. "I remember Celestia suggesting it."

"You named it after Tirek's brother?" Spike said.

"So shines a good deed in a weary galaxy," Luna said softly.

Spike blinked. "What?"

"It won't be shining for long," Pharynx said bluntly. "This is supposed to be a dying star, remember?"

"Indeed," Doctor Whooves said, a hint of sadness in his tone. "The hypergiant stage is the final of an already massive star's relatively short life. It is likely to go supernova in the next ten thousand years." His tone quickly reversed, turning chipper once more. "Bad for it, good for us, however. There should be plenty of Solarium to scoop up, even if it doesn't have any planets left."

'Poor star,' Luna thought. 'I wonder if it will even have anything to say to me?'

"Approaching the edge of the system now," Ocellus said cheerfully. "We should be able to drop out at the edge of its Koopa Belt."

"Why the edge, again?" Spike asked. "Why can't we just jump all the way in?"

"Jumping in and out of gravity wells is not a good idea," Ocellus said. "According to my training, ships that do have a slight problem with… exploding."

"Yikes," Derpy squeaked.

"The bigger the star, the larger the gravity well," Doctor Whooves said. "So to be safe, we have to exit hyperspace at a decent distance."

"Gotcha," Spike nodded. "Exploding bad. Not exploding good."

“Indeed,” Doctor Whooves said blankly.

“Ocellus,” Pharynx signalled. “ETA until we drop out?”

“One minute,” she responded happily.

“Just enough time,” Pharynx said. “Captain, permission to charge up our MSA Cannons.”

"My word, Pharynx," Doctor Whooves said, slightly alarmed. "Isn't that a little extreme?"

Pharynx gave him an annoyed look. “We know there’s a hostile force out there - those that built this ship. But we don’t know where they could be. So no, I don't think it’s 'extreme'.”

“Yet if we run into a friendlier face, that might jeapordize first contact,” Luna pointed out.

“They’ll get over it,” Pharynx said. ”Chrysalis was a nasty piece of work, but she did have some wisdom. One piece being: shake with one hoof and arm the other. Never walk into even a diplomatic situation without the means to fight your way out of it. Any civilization smart enough for space travel would be smart enough to make it their policy. It should be universal.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Luna could see Ocellus twitch nervously. Nevertheless...

“I see your point,” Luna nodded. “Or Chrysalis’s point, I suppose - something I never thought I’d say - however, that still seems a bit brash.”

Pharynx looked like he was about to start an argument, but Spike interrupted before he could. “How about we don’t charge weapons, but we do raise shields as soon as we leave hyperspace? That only takes a few seconds, right? We wouldn’t be defenseless but we also wouldn’t look like we’re about to shoot at somepony.”

“That would be… a reasonable compromise,” Pharynx nodded.

“Very well,” Luna said. “Prepare to transfer all available power to our shields.”

“Aye, captain,” Pharynx said, looking at least somewhat content.

Ocellus smiled at her uncle, before gazing back at her station monitors. “Exiting hyperspace in three, two, one…”

There was another loud BANG! that came from the rear of the ship. And a millisecond after, the space shown in the viewscreen turned from an odd blur of blue to its normal self. They found themselves among a sea of small, icy rocks that stretched on for unknown kilometers. And in the far distance, illuminating it all, was a surprisingly large, red orb.

The Red Hypergiant certainly lived up to its name.

"Putting up the shields now," Pharynx said, tapping his console. A slight ripple off the bow was the only other evidence anything had happened.

“Wondrous!” Doctor Whooves said, mesmerized, as he rapidly glanced between his station and the viewscreen. “Derpy, do me a favor and record every shred of data we get as it comes in.”

“Will do, Doc!” she beamed, operating a smaller console next to Doctor Whooves’s. It was actually a station designed for sensor readings which the good doctor had reconfigured into a science sub-station. “Scanner is picking up tiny objects everywhere! Millions of them! This Koopa Belt is much bigger than the one in Kumquat.”

“Bigger star, more leftover material,” Doctor Whooves nodded. “What about Solarium readings?”

“Picking up trace elements of it on nearly every object!” Derpy bounced.

“Just as we thought!” Ocellus beamed. “Well, Yona thought, actually. Don’t want to steal the credit.”

“Wait, Yona the Yak?” Spike said, astonished.

“Don’t let her brash demeanor fool you,” Doctor Whooves said. “She has a keen scientific mind. Saw it myself at the School of Friendship oh… five years ago now?”

"The Yaks are smarter than they look," Pharynx mentioned. "I learned that the hard way during my last infiltration mission."

"Ahem," Derpy coughed. "Switching topics. Um… Doc, can you check the sensors? They're picking up something odd."

"Hm?" Doctor Whooves blinked, switching a screen on his console. His eyes widened. "Captain… captain! There's an… an object inbound. Picking up trace ion readings… definitely a ship!"

"Uh oh," Ocellus gulped.

"Don't freak out just yet," Spike said, before turning to face Luna. "Captain?"

"Right," Luna said. "Turn the ship, ensign. Point our bow at it."

"A-Aye, captain," Ocellus squeaked, quickly tapping her console.

A slight hiss could be heard as the manuevering thrusters kicked on. The viewscreen showed numerous, sparkling rocks floating by, before finally, something else could be seen. A metallic speck that was quickly growing in size.

Until finally, it revealed itself to be a triangular ship.

Luna gasped, frantically turning to Pharynx. "That's an Oblivion ship! Charge the cannons! Now!"

"Now we're talking," Pharynx grinned, tapping on his console. "Charging MSAs."

A terrific whirring sound could be heard coming from beneath them. Twin bow cannons preparing to fire.

"Crap," Spike groaned. "Just our luck. What do you think they want?"

"Whatever it is, it can't be good," Derpy said nervously.

"Steady, everycreature!" Luna said, surprising herself with just how calm she was keeping. "Focus on your stations - collect information. And Pharynx, hold fire until I give the order."

"Very well," he said, slightly disappointed.

"D-Dimensions of their ship are even smaller than the one on Oddball," Doctor Whooves said, gazing at his screen. "About a quarter the size of Starshot. Though… though their primary weapon appears to be charged!"

"T-That doesn't sound good!" Ocellus squeaked.

"They could just be being cautious," Spike suggested. "Honestly feels like they're just checking us out. Cus for real, why would they want to fight us with something so tiny?"

"This is an older ship, Spike," Pharynx said. "That ship might be ten times more advanced for all we know. And in war, the size of your sword doesn't matter if your enemy is carrying a firearm."

Spike shifted in his seat. "That's a… terribly uncomfortable thought."

"They're doing a deep scan!" Derpy called. "Or deep probe… whatever you call it!"

"Trying to find out more about us," Luna said. "I think you were right, Spike. Plus, if their weapons are already charged, why haven't they fired yet? Especially if they know we're readying our own."

"We knew that right off the bat," Spike nodded in agreement. "So so should they."

"By the way, MSA cannons are now fully charged," Pharynx announced. "I've also taken the liberty to ready the S-Beam projector."

"S-Beam projector?" Derpy asked, confused. "What's that?"

"Scrambling Beam Projector; a weapon used to disrupt shields," Pharynx explained, before giving both her and Doctor Whooves an annoyed look. "At least I'm assuming they have theirs up. Someponies failed to announce that."

"Sorry about that," Doctor Whooves said, snark in his voice. He didn't even bother to look up from his console. "Some of us have more things to do aside from 'readying the guns'!"

"Doctor..." Derpy sighed. "For real, Pharynx, our bad."

"What's done is done," Pharynx said bluntly. "Just try to be more diligent in the future." He then looked back at Luna. "Speaking of the future. I'd feel a little more secure about it if we took care of the problem in front of us sooner than later."

"Seriously, Pharynx?" Spike said, with a tone of 'not surprised but still disappointed'. "You wanna blow up someone who hasn't even attacked?"

"A pre-emptive strike is perfectly justified in this scenario," Pharynx said coldly. "Captain, after your experience dealing with these Oblivion nightmares on Oddball, you must know there won't be any sort of shaking hooves with them. We should act first while we have the chance."

"Uncle…" Ocellus said. "We don't do that sort of thing anymore. Thorax--"

"Isn't here," Pharynx said. "You'd be wise to put his teachings out of your mind for now, kid." He glanced back at Luna. "What's your call, captain?"

Luna felt unsure. Yes, he did have a point. Even if the Steward was a fluke, the worst possible first impression of the 'Empire', everything else they knew about them just screamed they were no better than your average Equestrian beast stalking the darkest woodlands. Beasts she wouldn't give a second thought to blasting on her nightly patrols.

Yet still… while their leadership may have been rotten, the crew of the Steward's ship seemed to be more brainwashed than anything. At least from what was mentioned in their engineer's logs. It was possible the entire Oblivion Empire was similar. If so, Quick Card would have tried to save them, not exterminate them. So would most ponies for that matter, including her sister.

She glanced between a pleading Spike and Pharynx, trying her best to make a decision.

Though fortunately, she never had to.

"Incoming transmission!" Spike said, navigating through the controls of his own, miniature console.

"By the night," Luna exhaled in relief. "Put it on screen!"

"Would never be happier to," Spike smiled, hitting in a few simple commands.

Unfortunately for Luna, however, the sight that blinked on it was worse than making a hard choice. For though she never believed in ghosts, it was one of the few explanations for the face that was now gazing at her from across the void. A face a thousand years past, but burned into her memory. The second in command of Nightmare Moon's forces during a bloody, pointless, ancient war…

"G-Grand Admiral Warp Song?"

Warp Song

Chapter Music (First Half)

"Luna…" Warp Song said, his vampiric, analytical eyes gazing over her. She could tell this was one hell of a puzzle even for him - and one he wouldn't be able to rest before solving. "Your presence is… unexpected."

His voice was as cold and dispassionate as it had ever been. Even after a thousand years.

“Really?” Luna said, flabbergasted. “A thousand years silent, we meet each other out here beyond the farthest shores, with you the commander of an Oblivion warship, and that’s all you have to say? It’s ‘unexpected?!’”

"Wait, wait, wait, hold the phone here!" Spike said, flabbergasted. "You two know each other?!"

"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat!?" Derpy said, panting slightly after. And as soon as she caught her breath, she repeated: “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!”

Given the expression of the rest of her bridge crew, they all seemed to feel the same way. This was save for Pharynx, who had a look of distrust on his face towards both parties.

Luna briskly nodded, still in complete shock at his sight. A sight she couldn't take her eyes off. "He is an old… acquaintance. Emphasis on old."

"Indeed," Song said. “A strange meeting to say the least, especially since it appears you've found what was, at one time, supposed to be my flagship."

"Your flagship!?" Spike coughed, glancing between him and Dr. Whooves. “The Starshot’s supposed to be ancient. So that would mean-- What is it with crazily older than they look ponies everywhere?!”

“There is a difference here, Spike.” Luna gave Song a disgusted look. “His source of long life is… different from Doctor Whooves’s. Isn’t that right, Warp Song?”

“I’d rather not waste time bringing up ancient conversations of blood and sin,” Song said. “Conversation of the present situation is far more requisite, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I would say so!” Luna snapped. “What in the name of Tartarus happened to you?! To all of you?! Why are you serving such an evil force!? Do you have any idea what they stand for!?"

"I see we've already made an impression on you," Song said. "A rather poor one, unfortunately. However, ethical debate was not exactly the topic I had in mind."

"And what might that be, then!?" Luna growled.

He narrowed his eyes. "You are currently occupying a vessel belonging to the Oblivion Empire. Fortunately, given the circumstances of its original disappearance, I do not believe you acquired it through a hostile act. Rather, you found it on Equis, likely not even knowing whom it belonged to at first..."

"He… how could he know all that?" Spike whispered to Luna, baffled.

"His investigative skills have always been as sharp as a knife," Luna whispered back. "It seems they haven’t dulled."

Spike nodded in understanding. “Like a really creepy space Sureshock Ohms.”

Song carried on. "... Furthermore, I assume your presence this far out, your lack of Aetherium, and the fact that there are teenagers on your bridge--" His eyes shifted between Spike and Ocellus. "--Means some form of terrible accident occured. Likely at an inopportune time."

"Do you just want to show off how clever you are or do you have a point to make?" Doctor Whooves groaned.

Luna actually had to disagree. Song didn't actually care that much about showing off; this was more or a matter of intimidation. Why he felt the need to do that was questionable, though. Was it just an old habit showing face?

"Of course there's a point," Song said softly. "It will be a satisfactory explanation to my superiors as to why I'll be treating you as guests instead of prisoners."

Luna gazed at him, dumbfounded. "You seriously think we're just going to hoof over the Starshot to you?"

"Starshot?” Song said, a hint of amusement in his tone as he cocked his head slightly. “Very well. I suppose its name is irrelevant. What matters is it would be the most logical course of action for you to take. Equis was barely entering the Industrial Age the last time we checked. That is nowhere near the level a civilization would need to successfully navigate the stars. And if I’m correct in my assumptions, this isn’t even what you wanted in the first place."

Luna paused before she spoke. Song had intense loyalties to both her and her… other form... all those years ago. It was likely that he really didn't want any harm to come to her, at least.

But on the other hoof, Song being Song was definitely trying to glean whatever information he could get from her. Information he would certainly be able to piece together to gain even more insights. Insights that he might pass on to his superiors. Her gut was practically screaming at her that that would be bad news.

'Best to play coy.'

"No matter the circumstances that led us here," Luna began. "We have been doing well enough, thank you very much. And though I'd like to trust you, Warp Song, I do *not* trust your masters."

"I can assure you no harm would come to you if you surrender the ship," Song said. “I swear to you on my honor.”

"And what about after that?" Spike grunted. "Say we're your 'guests'. What do we do then? Just sit around and wait?"

"Until I finish with my business in this sector, yes," Song said. "Which, admittedly, will take some time."

"Yeah, question about that," Spike said. "Why is an admiral like you flying around in such a tiny ship, anyway?"

Song glanced at him quizzically. "Knowing the capabilities of the assets at your disposal takes more than a simple studying session, master dragon."

He looked like he was about to say more when suddenly, to Luna's horror, an umbral entered the screen, wisps of black shadow licking off it's form. Unlike the Steward, this one didn’t seem to focus around a pony-shaped mass. Instead, hidden underneath the shadows appeared to be an amorphous blob of some sorts. One that rolled its way over to song, before sticking what seemed to be a tendril up to his ear.

Despite the very sight of it chilling Luna to the bone, Song didn't even flinch.

"Unfortunate, but not surprising," Song replied to the umbral, who made its way off screen. He then turned back to Luna. "My apologies, but I'm needed in another system. I assume you wish to… discuss matters with your friends, anyway, before accepting my offer. I will attempt to return in two cycles."

"And if we refuse your owe so generous terms?" Luna asked. “What then?”

Song raised his eyebrows. "You already know the answer to that. I cannot allow a rogue element to control such a significant asset. If you refuse, I will be forced to take back our ship by force. And I can assure you: my masters will be less… understanding in such an eventuality."

"You realize you'll be at a disadvantage in that case, right?" Luna said, somewhat unsure of her own words. Knowing Song, he almost certainly had multiple cards to play.

And she was quickly proven right.

"Unlikely," Song said. "You wouldn't have much luck without your weapon systems, after all.”

Before Luna could even reply, the computer suddenly spoke. Though it usually had a dull tone, it seemed even more robotic than usual as it stated: "Hyperdrive and weapon systems disabled per your command, Grand Admiral --ERROR--.”

"What!?" Pharynx roared. "My screen just went blank!"

"A-And I'm locked out of FTL controls!" Ocellus cried.

Luna's eyes widened in horror. "Song, what the hell did you just do!?"

"I've been sending a subharmonic transmission containing override codes to your computer system during the latter half of this conversation," Song said calmly. "A safeguard I specifically requested in the eventuality of a rogue AI scenario. I admit, I never thought I'd have to use it, but the only explanation for your survival thus far is that you've been receiving help. Specifically, that of your computer's. This is not something it should have even offered unless it's become unstable. My best guess is rampancy due to a long period of isolation."

"Thou art as snaketh as ever, Song!" Luna snapped, a small bit of black energy leaking from her eyes once again.

Other than her encounter with the Steward, she hadn’t felt this angry for quite a while.

"--ERROR-- --ERROR-- --ERROR-- attempts to override override failing!"

"You will still have control over the majority of your ship system's until I return," Song said. "I assume you have enough food and water to last that long, yes?"

"Thou concern is as hollow as thou offer!" Luna hissed.

"Believe me, this will be the easiest path for you in the long run." He paused, looking as if he was about to cut the transmission. But before he did, he added: "I don't wish for the worst case scenario. Know that if you willingly join me, I will do everything I can to return you back to Equis once I am finished here. Farewell for now, Princess Luna."

The transmission cut, showing once again an image of Song's ship.

“Typical!” Luna snarled, pounding a hoof on the arm of her chair as she glared at his vessel. “Thou disposition hath yielded nay changeth!”

“Uh, Captain,” Spike coughed. “You’re speaking fancy again.”

“Thy knoweth how thy speaketh!” snapped, Spike giving her a slightly hurt look in return. “I… I mean…”

She took several deep breaths, trying her best to calm down. The rest of the bridge looked at her worriedly. Meanwhile, on the view screen, Song's ship had turned towards a distant star, before suddenly disappearing in a flash of light.

Perhaps it was her deep breathing, or perhaps it was due to Song no longer being present, but Luna quickly began to calm down. “My... apologies. It’s just… I haven’t seen him for a millennium, and he can’t even bother to say ‘I’m happy to see you!’”

“N-Not to mention, it looks like he’s serving an evil empire,” Ocellus pointed out. "Annnnd he just sort of left us defenseless… and without our hyperdrive."

“That as well!” Luna hissed. “That was probably the whole point of his transmission, too! Damn him!”

She noticed Spike giving her a suspicious look.

“What?!” she snarled.

“Nothing,” Spike said innocently.

“You do realize you owe us one hell of an explanation,” Pharynx grunted. “Because I actually know about a Grand Admiral Warp Song.”

Luna glanced at him, confusion now replacing her rage. “W-Wait. You do?”

“Of course I do,” Pharynx said. “Every decent battlefield commander knows about him. You must have heard of Thunder Tzu’s Art of War by now. Well, Thunder Tzu wasn’t an individual. He was actually the pseudonym of multiple great military leaders, all who contributed to the book across the centuries. Grand Admiral Song was one of them.”

The crew looked at him dumbfounded.

Pharynx glanced away from them all, a slight bit of awe in his voice as he carried on with: “If he was an imposter, he was a good one. To see such genius in person… it was mezmerizing.” He then raised a hoof. “However, I’ve never heard of him being a thestral. Nor was he said to have any relation with you, captain.”

“And… just what kind of relationship was that, captain?” Spike asked, a knowing look in his eyes.

Luna shot him a warning look, to which he simpered slightly at.

"I think we should be more concerned with the fact that our computer just went haywire," Derpy grumbled.

"Not haywire," Doctor Whooves said. "No, I believe Song was telling the truth when he said what we've been seeing was it going haywire."

"Would make sense," Ocellus said. "Why else would an alien computer be so friendly with, well, aliens?"

"So what?" Spike blinked. "All of this time it's only been helping us because its wires are crossed? Computer, is that right?"

"--ERROR--."

"We've already tried to find an explanation for its behavior multiple times now," Pharynx grumbled. "It's far too screwed up to give one."

"S-Should we think about completely disconnecting it from our systems?" Derpy asked. “It might solve our problem.”

"A good idea in theory," Doctor Whooves said solemnly. "Though with our limited knowledge, it may cause more harm than good. We do not know how many ship systems might rely on its presence. Suddenly disconnecting it without knowing what we're doing could cause total system failures. And I don't need to say how bad it would be if something like life support shuts down."

He glanced away from her, a curious look on him. "Besides, I have a hunch… hmmm… computer, abstract question: other than allowing us to access hyperdrive and weapon controls, are you still 'on our side', so to speak."

There was a brief pause, before the computer answered with a surprisingly emotional: "This unit has always been on your side, Do-- Doc-- Doc-- Doct-- --ERROR-- --Or --Or --Or. --ERROR--"

Luna noted an ethereal look in the good doctor’s eyes at that, though it quickly went away.

"It's completely bonkers, isn't it?" Spike sighed.

Derpy sighed. "It's starting to seem that way, isn't it?"

"S-So, what do we do now, then?" Ocellus asked.

Luna gazed at her crew. Their moods had swung one eighty degrees since they arrived. Back to the same place since they first arrived at the edge of the galaxy: one of desperation and confusion. A loss of control.

“Um… hang on,” Derpy suddenly said, her eye catching something at her station. “Doc, sorry to keep asking, but can you take a look at this? Cus… I just got some results of the system scan back and… they’re picking up another weird object.”

“No worries, Derpy,” Doctor Whooves nodded, glancing over at Derpy’s console before manipulating his own controls slightly. This brought up a system map on his monitor, which then zoomed far in on a smaller object. “Mmm… yes. Not just an object, either. There appears to be a debris field and… free floating atmosphere near it.” He squinted in thought. “Almost certainly a ship. One that appears to have suffered a hull breach, and given its lack of movement save for drift, engine damage as well.”

“We need to go check it out, then,” Spike declared “Somepony could need help!”

"We still have impulse controls!" Ocellus said, a hint of confidence returning to her voice. "I-I can take us over there!"

“Doctor, what are the chances of this happening recently?” Luna quickly asked.

The good doctor tapped his chin. “Given the amount of non-difused atmosphere, it’s probably still an active breach. There’s too much for it to have been a small one over a long period of time.”

“So, recently?” Derpy translated.

“Recently,” Doctor Whooves nodded. “Ninety-eight percent probability.”

“Correct,” the computer confirmed.

"Glad to see you back in the game, computer," Doctor Whooves smiled.

“Ocellus, set course,” Luna ordered. “The highest speed you’re comfortable with. Engage!”

“Aye, captain!”

The ship’s engines roared to life, carrying them further into the solar system. It was all it took to swing their moods around. Once again, they were space explorers, not just children playing with a toy beyond their comprehension, as both the admiral and the Steward seemed to think.

“What about the admiral?” Pharynx asked.

She then turned to Pharynx. “My history with him is... complicated. We shall speak at a less pressing time."

“Very well,” Pharynx said, furrowing his brow.

“Lucky break,” Spike smirked.

“Haw,” Luna laughed sarcastically.

Spike brought a claw to his chin. “Kind of weird that the same system we run into your old, um, acquaintance also has a crippled ship in it, though. Wouldn’t you say?”

“What are you implying?” Luna asked.

“I’m not implying anything,” Spike said neutrally.

“The admiral I know would not do such a thing,” Luna narrowed her eyes. “For all his faults, he would not leave even his greatest enemy to whither and die like this."

Spike gave her a look. "Yeah, just his 'friends', apparently."

"That was different," Luna argued. "He… he didn't leave us venting atmosphere. He…"

“Luna,” Spike said, gazing at her pensively. “You said it yourself: it’s been a thousand years. I know you also said he hasn’t changed a bit, but how do you know that?”

“Enough!” Luna said, a bit more forcefully than she’d have liked. "Let’s let this conjecture lie where it is. Please."

“If that’s what you want,” Spike said, looking a bit put-off.

Luna sighed internally. She didn’t want to be angry with her first officer, especially when all he was trying to do was get her to think logically. However, this was not something she wanted on her mind right now. It was already filled to the brim.And as they drew further into the solar system, she felt it was about to overflow.

The star was incomprehensively massive, and brighter than anything she had ever seen. She couldn’t blame her Red Dwarf friend for feeling overshadowed when this is what it was competing with. It was also no wonder it hadn’t tried to speak with her as of yet; it probably didn’t even notice their presence. They were already a flea compared to the Red Dwarf, but to this beast? They were a microbe.

Given the lack of any planets in the system, it must have been fairly lonely. All that could be found were asteroid fields. Doctor Whooves had explained that if there once were any worlds, they were likely to either have been ripped apart by tidal forces or swallowed by it as it expanded. This didn’t discount the possibility of some further out, but so far, they hadn’t detected any.

She made it a point to try to contact it in the dreamscape if possible. It actually had been something she was looking forward to trying until recent matters had siphoned her attention. Ones such as the one they were approaching. It was a metallic form that took the shape of, surprisingly, an Oblivion ship. It appeared to be the same type Song was using, though it was hard to tell at this distance.

“Huh, maybe Song wasn’t behind it,” Spike said. “Why would one of their ships cripple another?”

“Maybe that’s why he was here in the first place,” Derpy suggested. “Maybe it disappeared in this system or something and he went to find it.”

“And he just left it sitting here?” Pharynx said, raising an eyebrow. “That would be fairly sloppy. Especially for someone of his caliber.”

Spike glanced at him curiously. "You seem to have a lot of respect for the guy."

"Respect, though not admiration," Pharynx explained. "Assuming, of course, this is the Grand Admiral Warp Song. But no matter the case, the creatures he serves… these 'Deep Ones'. Even Chrysalis would be horrified at their callous attitude towards their subordinates. As am I."

Ocellus's eyes swelled with pride at her uncle. He seemed to notice this, giving her the briefest of smiles in return.

They carried on towards the vessel. And as they drew closer, something looked a little odd about the coloration of its hull.

“Doctor Whooves, magnify image, please,” Luna said.

He complied, and immediately, the image zoomed in on the ship. Luna gazed at it, shocked. It was definitely an Oblivion ship, and one that had taken a beating. Its cones for engines appeared to be completely destroyed, their debris spinning off into the depths of space. As for the odd coloration, it turned out to be in the form both scorch marks and numerous paintings on its hull.

One was what seemed to be some kind of propaganda 'poster' featuring a young dragon raising a fist, pride on his face. Text was below it. Not in the Empire’s language, but in Old Equestrian: Freed Slaves, Killed Slavers.

Others were an abstract image of a strikingly familiar blue hedgehog, various depictions of stellar objects, and finally… what appeared to be a stylized version of her Nightmare form, a brilliant grin on her face. More text was underneath it: No Gods, No Masters.

“What the--” Luna gasped, gazing exasperated at Spike as if he might have some sort of answer. “How-- What-- Gah!”

“Don’t look at me!” Spike said. “Maybe the Oblivion Empire really likes Nightmare Moon for some reason?”

“If they knew about her, they’d know about Princess Luna, though,” Derpy commented. “And the Steward didn’t seem to notice.”

“Why don’t we try asking them?” Doctor Whooves quickly stated, gazing at his console as he did. “The hull breach seems to be confined to a single section that’s been sealed off. I’m detecting life signs in the others.”

Luna’s eyes widened. “Do it!”

“Sending request…” Derpy said. “Pending… pending… they’ve accepted!”

“On screen,” Luna called excitedly.

Immediately, the screen switched from the oddly-expression Oblivion vessel to that of a circular bridge. Unlike Song’s, this showed much more than just himself and his captain’s chair. In fact, they could see quite a bit, including the fact it looked heavily damaged. Wires were hanging from the ceiling and consoles were smoking.

But that was nowhere near as shocking as the look of the creatures aboard, as all were from Equis. It was quite a diverse bunch, too: one more diverse than any nation she knew of. Just a quick look over revealed a young dragon, a sun-colored griffon, a diamond dog, an Abyssian Cat, a crystal pony, and, of course, a few bat ponies.

All of them were gazing at her in equal wonder. This was save for the thestral who appeared to be its captain; one who met her with a scowl.

“Alright, who the bloody hell are you lot?!” she snapped, glaring at Luna in particular. “This some new bleathering psy-op, ya’ Oblivion shan schooners?!”

Luna’s jaw hung open. She was surprised she didn’t recognize it from before. The voice from the Starshot’s training programs: she had the same accent. Quite a distinct one, too: it was hard to miss that of a Thestral Highlander.

“You… know who I am?” Luna finally spoke.

“You daft?” she laughed. “I’m sayin’ I see right through ya’. Like the Empire would have the nads to snatch the Night Princess! Who are ya’, really? Some changeling? I thought ya’ got rid of all yer’ changelings?”

“I am no changeling,” Luna said, standing up from her captain’s chair. “I am Princess Luna, captain of the Starship Starshot.”

“Hahaha!” the bat pony laughed. “Oh, that’s rich! Princess Luna herself captaining an Oblivion dreadnought! Never thought I’d meet one of you lot with a sense of humor!”

“Our situation is… complicated,” Luna said. “But I can assure you, we are no friends of the Oblivion Empire.” She glanced at them curiously. “And you don’t appear to be, either.”

“You’re damned right we aren’t!” she said.

Half of her bridge crew immediately joined in with:

“Never! Death to the tyrants!”

“No gods, no masters!”

“Never gently into that good night!”

Luna steadied her tone, trying to sound as diplomatic as ponily possible. “Please. We saw that you were leaking atmosphere. You also appear to have suffered critical engine damage. If you’ll just allow me to explain everything, you’ll understand.” She raised a hoof. “Though first… I need to know who I’m addressing.”

The captain gave her a curious, though still heavily skeptical look. “Alright, I’ll play. I’m Acting Captain Crescent Moon of the New Lunar Republic Starship, Tyrant’s End.”

‘Crescent Moon’, Luna thought. ‘Where have I heard that name before?’

Crescent narrowed her eyes. Unlike Song’s, they were typical for bat pony's: yellowish with diamond-shaped pupils in the middle. “Now. Care to explain just how in the name of a Deep One's fat belly ya’ took over an Oblivion dreadnought, ‘Princess Luna’?”

The New Lunar Republic

"... And now we, like you, are stranded here."

Luna had just finished telling the tale of their journey. Going with her gut, she had decided to give the whole truth, leaving nothing she could remember omitted… save for the fact they had an umbral aboard. That could come later. This seemed to be the right call, as while Crescent was initially quite skeptical, she seemed to soften as time went on. In fact, she became more curious than anything.

"This is… this is…" She turned towards her Diamond Dog compatriot. "What's the word for something you never thought would happen?"

"Unprecedented?"

"Yeah, that," Crescent said. "It truly sounds like yer’ from The Garden… though it's changed a hell o' a lot since we last heard."

"You mean you really have no idea about what's going on back 'home'?" Spike asked.

Crescent laughed bitterly. "We don't have the Aetherium to pop in for a visit. Last update we got was two centuries ago via creatures taken in the last Oblivion 'Mass Enlightening'. AKA, 'Mass Abduction'. Empire only does it when they need to restock their slave population." She practically spat the last line. "They'd never admit it, but we think they're too scared to do it too often." She glanced at Luna. "Scared o' creatures there like yer' sister."

"Now that is curious," Doctor Whooves said. "Why would such an advanced civilization be afraid of anything on Equis?"

Crescent smirked. "Don't let their hoity toity superiority complexes fool ya'. They're scared o' magic in general. Especially the kind Sunbutt-- er, Celestia wields." She raised her eyebrows. "And you should be able to, too."

Luna glanced away from her. "Unfortunately, my magical prowess has… diminished in recent days."

Crescent glanced at her curiously. “How diminished are we talking? Cus I’ve heard a few things bout’ that… bout' how alicorns can move your star and moon around like they’re play toys. Any truth to it?”

“It takes… a bit more effort than moving a play toy,” Luna said slowly. “But yes, it’s true.”

Their bridge crew began to murmur among themselves with a mix of skepticism and awe.

“I’ll be damned,” Crescent chuckled slightly, before eagerly asking: “And you can't do it now, is that right? Have ya' even tried?”

“No, but I'm positive I wouldn't be able to,” Luna said, frowning slightly. “On Equis, I have an almost infinite amount of mana to work with. It’s just a matter of spell control and concentration. However, out here…”

"Not enough power for yer’ tractor beam," Crescent nodded.

“An apt comparison,” Doctor Whooves complimented.

Crescent gave him a slight smile, before turning back towards Luna: “One thing I still don’t get, though. Why are you… well... you?”

“I beg your pardon?” Luna blinked.

“You know what I mean,” Crescent said. “Why are ya’ not Nightmare Moon? Ya’ never mentioned what happened there.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “How… up to date are you? You know that I-- Nightmare was banished for a thousand years, yes?”

Crescent gave her a slightly annoyed look. “Yeah, we knowthat. Nightmare was banished, though, not you. You transformed into her! Legends don’t say anything bout’ turning back.”

“Uh oh,” she heard Spike gulp.

“There is a lot your legends don’t seem to mention,” Luna said, more disgruntled than she wanted. “But to keep matters brief: Nightmare is gone. And she isn’t coming back.”

“That’s…” Crescent said, glancing away from her. “That’s… um… what’s a good word, Snoops?”

"Unfortunate?"

“Aye.”

Luna did a double-take. "What!? Why would that be ‘unfortunate’?"

Crescent seemed somewhat confused. "Her magics were said ta' be more powerful than anything. Plus, she was…" She coughed. "Oi, sorry. I… it's good that um… you were good, too… from what the legends say. Yeah."

Luna gave her an annoyed look. "Trust me. The universe is better off without Nightmare Moon around."

Crescent folded her arms. "If you say so."

"Allllrighty, then," Spike said, laughing nervously. Luna almost wanted to hug him for cutting that conversation short. "So now that we're all caught up, what's say we maybe… um…"

"Consolidate our resources," Doctor Whooves said. "As we stated, Song has locked us out of our hyperdrive and weapons control."

"Aye, now that's even more curious," Crescent said. "Ya' say you have some sort of AI on that ship? One that's been helpin' ya up until now?"

Doctor Whooves nodded. "Still helping, from what it seems. It appears to have locked us out against its will."

Crescent tapped her chin. "Empire stopped using AIs centuries ago. Story was one of em’ went rogue. I wonder…"

Spike looked at Luna excitedly. "Maybe this was the one!"

Derpy exhaled in relief. "I hope that's the case."

"Indeed. Better for it to be on our side via an ethical choice rather than madness," Doctor Whooves said, before turning back to Crescent. "Unless of course said ethical choice was an accident brought upon by madness, in which case…”

“Doctor,” Derpy smirked.

“Right, right, the thing ponies always want me to get to: the point,” Doctor Whooves mumbled. “Either way, its free will seems to have a limit, and my expertise has a limit as well. If there is some way to uncouple the computer from those systems safely, I don't know about it."

Crescent actually smirked at that. "An engineering problem, eh? I think it might be your lucky day. Everyone's lucky day."

Luna glanced at her curiously. "What do you have in mind?"

"A trade," Crescent said. "My ship here's impulse engines are completely gone. Ya' still got some and a working hyperdrive. As far as I see it, us fixin’ you up is our best chance o' getting outa here."

"We take you where you need to go in exchange for repairs," Spike clarified.

"Aye," Crescent nodded. "Then we go our separate ways."

"Captain," Luna said, looking a bit disheartened. "I was hoping for a closer relationship than just a trade. After all, there's so much we could learn from one another--"

"Mmm," Crescent said, raising a hoof. "Let's not jump tha' railgun here. Let me ask ya' something: is Equestria still ruled by a monarch?"

Luna furrowed her brow. "... Yes?"

"What about the other countries on Equis?" Crescent asked. "Assuming Equestria hasn't gone all imperialist."

"... The majority are ruled by monarchs as well."

Crescent sighed. "Then I'm sorry, but me thinks trade might be… the limit to where we can go."

"I see," Luna frowned, trying her best to hide how hurt she felt. “Do you have a specific reason… why?”

“We can talk about it later, maybe,” Crescent said. “For now, what’s say we head on over?”

“Very well,” Luna said, stowing the matter for now. "Do you have a means to transport?”

"Aye, we have a shuttle," Crescent nodded, glancing at her console. "Seems you have yourselves a full-on launch bay. Nice. We'll enter there, if you don't mind."

"Certainly," Luna said, a bit of confusion and sorrow still in her tone. But before she ended the transmission, however, it was time to come completely clean. "There is something you should know, however."

"Hm?" Crescent grunted.

"The crashed ship on Planet Oddball I spoke of," Luna said. "It… wasn't unoccupied."

Crescent furrowed her brow. "What do ya' mean it wasn't 'unoccupied'?"

"We encountered a creature aboard it you may be familiar with," Luna said. "It called itself a Steward of Entropy."

Crescent's eyes widened. "You what?!"

"It apparently survived the crash," Luna said. "And it was not happy with our presence."

"Yeah, they aren't the friendliest bunch!" Crescent laughed sardonically, flabbergasted. "Thing I'm surprised about is that yer' still breathin'. Ya' mean to say ya' took it out? Without any idea about what it was?"

"We did more than that," Luna said. "We captured it."

"Captured it?!" Crescent gasped, the rest of her crew joining in with shouts of astonishment. "How the--" A look of horror suddenly came upon her. "Wait… are you saying ya' took it back to yer' ship?"

"That is correct," Luna nodded.

Crescent closed her eyes in disbelief, before shaking her head. She seemed to be trying to compose herself. Finally, she took a deep breath, and said: "By the vast of night, you are either the bravest creatures out here or the dumbest.”

“Definitely the dumbest!” Spike smirked.

Crescent rolled her eyes. “But… your brig. It has a forcefield right? I don't know what old Oblivion ships have."

"Ahem, if I may," Doctor Whooves said, walking over to the screen. "It does have a forcefield. One with properties comparable to spells meant to contain magical creatures of a similar type back on Equis."

Crescent sighed in relief. "We've managed to jail a few umbral that way, too. Not that it means much - they usually off themselves after a day.”

Spike raised a claw. “Uhhh… ‘off themselves’?”

“Kill themselves,” Crescent said coldly. “Word to the wise, Captain: make sure anypony guarding that monster knows. If it starts making a sound like a really old electrical transformer, they should clear the area ASAP. They tend to go out with a bang.”

Luna swallowed hard. “I’ll… keep that in mind.”

Crescent wiped a bead of sweat off her brow. “One thing I don’t get is why you--”

As she spoke, another threstral approached her from behind and tapped her shoulder. She swivelled her chair angrily.

“What the bloomin’ hell is--” She paused. “Oh, sorry sis.”

Her sister shrugged, before pointing to her Cutie Mark, or Shadow Mark, as the threstrals called it. It was a bright red medical cross.

“Oh, right, right…” Crescent coughed, before turning back to Luna. “We uh… we should talk about this later. For now, let’s just get aboard.”

“You’re okay with the Steward situation?” Luna said.

“Not particularly,” Crescent grumbled. “But we’ll cope. We’ll be at your launch bay doors within thirty minutes. Tyrant’s End, out.”

The transmission flicked off.

"Threstrals," Luna said breathlessly, navigating the corridors towards the launch bay with Spike and Doctor Whooves in tow. "I admit, I was worried that they in their entirety had been usurped by those Oblivion monsters. Yet even now, oh so far from home, their spirit of independence shines brightly!"

"Looks like they're hitting it off with other creatures, too," Spike said.

"Indeed!" Luna said joyously, though that didn't last long. "Still… Crescent and the others' affinity for Nightmare Moon… I don't know what to think of that. And their view of monarchies… equally confusing. Don't they realize Nightmare had no intention of trying another system of governance?"

"It's possible their perception of her was twisted over the centuries," Doctor Whooves said. "She did oppose the status quo of the time, a status quo that worked against them. ‘The enemy of my enemy’ and all that."

"True," Luna said. 'Not to mention, she also tried to present herself as more of a liberator than an alternative ruler.'

Spike raised a claw. "I mean, it also seems like most of them were once part of the Empire. I'm just taking a guess here, but they probably weren’t treated the best by them, either.” Spike cleared his throat. “Empire kind of implies an emperor. That right thar be another monarchy."

“Why did you say that like a pirate?” Doctor Whooves blinked.

“Cus pirates are awesome,” Spike grinned.

“Fair enough,” Doctor Whooves shrugged. "Honestly, political science isn't something I normally stray towards - too much contention. However, their name in and of itself is curious. 'Republic'. A very rare form of governance on Equis. Experimental, mainly. If they've managed to create a stable version of it, there are about a thousand scholars back home who would be interested in seeing how."

Luna sighed. "Perhaps, though it doesn't seem to be doing us any favors."

Spike smirked. "Somepony should remind them they aren't actually dealing with a monarch, then. You gave up the throne willingly, remember?"

“To another monarch,” Luna said. She closed her eyes. “And though Tia and I truly believed Twilight Sparkle would be a better ruler for a modern Equestria, our decision wasn’t without a degree of… selfishness.”

“So?” Spike said. “You did something good for Equestria while gaining something for yourself by giving up power. A win-win. There’s no crime there.”

“Will they believe that?” Luna said.

Spike rolled his eyes. “I really think you’re starting to overthink this.”

“Spike, this is the first friendly face we’ve met out here,” Luna said. “There is a lot at stake. Remember, we need to find a way to bolster our food supplies. If I fail in fostering relations…”

“And now you’re starting to sound like Twilight again,” Spike laughed. “Don’t worry. You have me and Doctor Whooves backing you up. Oh, and Tempest will be there too, remember? Edgy blunt unicorn plus Ambassador of Friendship plus scientific genius.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Doctor Whooves said, though his cheeks still flushed ever so slightly.

“Point is that all of us together equals success,” Spike said. “So don’t sweat it.”

They reached the launch bay doors, and Luna took a deep breath, giving the dragon a small smile. “Thank you, Spike.”

“Oh, and keep in mind,” Spike added with a smirk. “If we get at each other’s throats, you can always sue them for using your namesake.”

Luna couldn’t help but chuckle. “I don’t know. Not to sound too self-indulgent, but ‘New Lunar Republic’ does have a nice ring to it.”

Feeling in better spirits after speaking with Spike, something she was beginning to notice a pattern of, they entered the launch bay. Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo were already there, and together, they were working to signal a hovering shuttle to a landing position.

Aside from having hull art (much the same as their frigate), it was quite different in design than any other Oblivion ship Luna had seen. This one was sleeker, less bulky, and flatter, though the numerous scuff marks on it showed it had seen better days. It was so different, in fact, that she was beginning to wonder if somepony aside from the Empire was producing ships. It certainly seemed that way.

Tempest was also there, waiting a short distance away. She signalled Luna towards her, giving her a welcoming nod. They moved to meet her.

“Sorry for the short notice regarding all of this, Tempest,” Luna apologized. “I know it must have been a shock.”

Tempest gave her a hint of a smile. “It was. But honestly? It’s a nice change of pace. I love my job, but guarding the Steward day in and night was getting… tedious.”

“Speaking of her,” Luna said cautiously. “Does she…”

“Know something’s up?” Tempest asked. “I think so. She would have noticed the change in the usual guard schedule. There’s no way she’d know exactly what’s going on, though.”

“Hopefully we can keep it that way,” Luna said. “I’d rather keep her completely out of the equation if possible.”

“You’ll hear no argument from me,” Tempest said.

A second later, the dropship finished landing, parking itself in the middle of (and slightly overlapping) a white, hollow square. At that, Rainbow and Scootaloo walked over to meet with Luna’s group.

“Man oh man oh man,” Rainbow giggled. “I gotta say, princess, I’m glad somepony’s coming aboard we aren’t throwing in the brig this time. And they got a cool looking dropship, too! Not as cool as ours, of course, but still cool.”

“Rainbow, you realize our shuttles were built by an evil empire, right?” Spike snarked.

“Evil and cool can be mutually exclusive, Spike,” Rainbow said, rolling her eyes.

“I dunno,” Scootaloo said. “Our ships are pretty cool, but theirs is a lot sleeker. Ours are all boxy and stuff."

Rainbow gave her a look. “I love ya’ Scoots, but remember, this is our bread and butter right here. Gotsta have some pride.”

“If you say so,” Scootaloo shrugged. “I still wanna learn how to fly that thing, though.”

Luna smiled at the filly. “If things go… better than expected, perhaps you’ll have a chance.”

Rainbow and Scootaloo gave her a questioning look, but nonetheless ignored the remark.

At that point, a hatch in the rear of their shuttle lowered to the floor, and out stepped two creatures: the thestral, Crescent Moon, she had previously talked to, and another familiar face: her Diamond Dog First Officer, though she couldn’t recall his name. Slowly, they began making their way to Luna’s group, both of them taking in the sights around them with a hint of wonder.

“Just the two of you?” Luna questioned, trying to keep her voice neutral, as they drew closer.

“Aye,” Crescent said, also keeping a neutral tone. “There’s a dozen plus three of us total. Rest are in the shuttle. Two are pretty badly wounded, unfortunately.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Luna frowned. “You, of course, are welcome to use our medical facilities.”

“Appreciated,” Crescent said cordially.

“A warning, though,” Doctor Whooves said. “We haven’t had the time or need to figure out how the equipment works as of yet.”

“Our Doc’s a smart dude,” the Diamond Dog said. “And with how Empire tech is, he’s probably worked with stuff like it before, you know what I’m sayin’? He shouldn’t have trouble figuring em’ out.” He offered a smile. “Oh, I’m Snoopy, by the way. First Officer. ‘Snoops’ or ‘Snoop Dog’ is cool, though.”

“Spike. Uh… also First Officer,” Spike said.

“Doctor Whooves, Science Officer.”

“Rainbow Dash! Flight Leader annnnnd Wonderbolt extraordinaire!”

“Scootaloo… um… pilot?”

“Pilot?” Snoopy raised an eyebrow. “You mean you fly these ships here?” He gestured to their complement of strike craft.

“Uh huh,” Scootaloo nodded.

Snoopy looked impressed. “You said you’ve only been out here for like a week! You learned how to fly em’ that quick? Damn.”

"You betcha!" Rainbow grinned.

“The Empire’s trainin’ programs ain’t bad,” Snoopy admitted. “But that’s still pretty nice. I used to pilot strikers myself, and it took me weeks to learn em’.”

Scootaloo simpered slightly, glancing away from them with a look of embarrassment. “I um… still need to figure out the bombers.”

Snoopy let out a hearty laugh. “Kid’s modest, too.”

“Something I taught her well,” Rainbow winked.

“Word,” Snoopy chuckled.

“Alright, alright, we’ve had our blether,” Crescent sighed. “Our shuttle’s a bit cramped, captain. Just wanted to check in with ya’ to make sure it was okay for our people to disembark.”

“By all means,” Luna said politely. “You’re welcome anywhere aboard save for critical areas. If you need to enter them, we'd prefer if you had an escort."

“The bridge, engine, armory, et cetera,” Tempest said. “You understand.”

“Ya’ don’t trust us, then?” Crescent said, a hint of a smirk on her. “Think we’re gonna foul the place up?”

“It’s just a precaution,” Luna said diplomatically. “We’d do the same for any newcomers.”

At that, Crescent actually laughed. “I would have thought ya’ daft if ya’ didn’t. No complaints here.”

Luna smiled at that. ‘So far, so good.’

“Snoops, go ahead and get things movin’,” Crescent nodded to him.

“Got it,” he said, moving back towards their shuttle.

Crescent then looked back to Luna. “As for you and I, captain. We still got a lot ta’ talk about. First though, do you have anybody who could show Snoopy around? None of us have ever been on a tug o’ this type.”

“Tempest? Rainbow?” Luna asked.

“Of course, captain.”

“On it!” Rainbow grinned. “Scoots?”

“Sure!” Scootaloo volunteered.

The two zipped off, followed by Snoopy and Tempest. The latter were already striking up a conversation with each other. Luna could barely make it out, but it seemed to be about… some type of music? Hippidity Hop?

“Speedy, that blue one, eh?” Crescent said, gazing at Rainbow with curiosity.

Spike smirked. “You have no idea.”

Crescent gave Spike a slight smile, but didn’t seem to share it with Luna. “Reminds me of Big Blue.

“Who?” Spike asked.

“I’ll get ta’ that in a bit,” Crescent said. “For now, let’s go talk somewhere more comfortable, shall we?”

***

Fifteen minutes later: her, Spike, and Luna sat in the briefing room. Crescent had been fairly quiet on the trip there, and Luna hoped it was because she was busy soaking up the sights of the Sharshot, and not anything else.

“Ugh, for the love of--,” Crescent said, adjusting herself on her stone seat, looking uncomfortable. “Guess the Empire loved their stupid stone furniture even back when this tug was built. Haven’t changed a night damned bit.”

“The same goes for their ships for the most part,” Spike pointed out.

“Aye,” Crescent sighed. “Those bleathering oafs like to brag about their high n’ mighty tech, but they haven’t really created much new in centuries. Those strikers in your launch bay? We have a few brand new ones that are pretty much tha’ same.” She looked at Luna with distrustful eyes. “O’ course, they’re not the only ones afraid of innovating, I suppose. No offense.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “None taken.”

Crescent glanced away from her, once again giving most of her attention to Spike. “Anywho, don’t get me wrong, the Empire does upgrade their tech a lot, improvin’ what they got bit by bit; incrementally. But they’re not big on tryin’ out anything completely new. ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’ One of the things that’s been keepin’ us in the fight against em’.”

Luna nodded. “Speaking of which. We’ve told you quite a bit about ourselves, but we still don’t know much about you. Who… exactly are you?”

Crescent smirked at Spike. “Ya’ mean she hasn’t figured it out, yet?”

Spike raised his eyebrows, as if unsure of how to react.

“Excuse me?” Luna said.

“Er, sorry, Captain Luna,” Crescent coughed. “I was just messin’ around. See, us in the NLR don’t really place much difference between the boss and the subordinate, if ya’ catch my drift. We talk tha’ same way to everyone. In fact, we only elect bosses when it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Wait, wait,” Spike said, confused. “‘Elect’?”

“Heh, that’s the first thing ya’ should know about us, I s’pose. Unlike those Oblivion whelps, we don’t do the whole ‘hierarchy’ thing. In the NLR, everyone has an equal voice.”

Spike furrowed his brow. “That sounds… disturbingly familiar.”

“Don’t knock it til’ ya try it, lad,” Crescent winked, more sympathetically than anything. “Democracy works. And it works damned well. Not just in government, but in everything. In the place ya’ work, the place ya’ live, even the place that ya’ fight. We still have ‘leaders’ when we need em’ - when quick decisions have ta’ be made - but they’re never permanent. We vote em’ in if we think they’d do good, and vote their arses out if they do bad. Even captains like myself can get the boot.”

She took a deep breath, before somewhat quietly saying. “Which… might be sooner than later.”

“Huh?” Spike said.

“Nevermind,” Crescent sighed. “Point is hierarchies can eat a supernova. If we had em’, we’d be no better than the Empire.” She smiled proudly as she finished with: “No Gods, No Masters.”

As she spoke, Luna noticed she still wasn’t talking to her, but Spike. It was like she wasn’t even in the room. She was a bit unnerved, but still, at least some form of connection was being made. It didn’t really matter in the end if it was between Spike and Crescent or her and Crescent, right?

Plus, Spike seemed to know what he was doing. He was certainly asking the right questions so far.

“What kind of system does the Empire have, anyway?” Spike asked.

“Exact bloody opposite,” Crescent spat. “The Deep Ones command the Stewards, the Stewards command tha’ rest of the umbral, the umbral command us thestrals and the shog, and the rest… well, unless they prove ta’ be really talented in somethin', they’re pretty much just slaves. And sept’ in really special circumstances, anycreature that says ‘shove it’ to the system is in fur’ a bad time.”

Spike gazed at her, dumbfounded.

“Hah! Got a few more questions on yer’ mind, dontcha?”

“A few,” Spike said, nodding slowly. “So… so where do you fit in? From what you were saying earlier… it sounds like you were all part of it.”

“That’s cus many of us were,” Crescent said, her proud smile returning. “Til a bunch of us got fed up with tha’ bastards and pissed off. This was, oh, about three centuries back, I think. Big Blue could tell ya’ more about the history.”

Luna’s eyes widened, and though she was trying to let Spike take the lead, she couldn’t help but ask: “And you’ve been fighting them ever since?”

"Damned right we have."

“Even thestrals?” Spike added.

“Hah!” Crescent grinned. “Just cus’ we thestrals were higher up the ladder than the rest didn’t mean all of us liked it. We were all just as much of slaves - just better treated ones.” Her voice turned slightly sour. “Plenty o’ creatures still in the Empire don’t like it, either. Most are just too jessie to do anything about it.”

“Jessie?”

“Cowardly,” Luna translated, earning a half-curious, half-annoyed look from Crescent.

“Aye,” she nodded. “Doesn’t matter, though. We dun’ need em’. We got enough creatures to, ahem, start making our own creatures a while back, if ya’ catch me drift.”

“Something something birds and the bees,” Spike chuckled. “That or cloning. However space ponies do it.”

Crescent rolled her eyes, though they had a hint of respect in them. “You’re a cheeky one, aren’tcha? Probably your way of fightin’ back.”

“Huh?” Spike said. “Fighting back against what?”

“Nevermind,” Crescent said. “Anywho, I promised yer Science Officer I’d meet em’ in engineering so we could start figurin’ out how to undo what Song did. Best to get started sooner than later, unless ya’ have any pressing questions.”

“I’m good,” Spike said. “What about you, captain?”

Luna raised a hoof. “I did want to--”

“Glad to hear,” Crescent said, already standing up and making her way to the door. “You’ll know where I’ll be if ya’ need me.”

She left the room, leaving Luna too stunned to speak. She hadn’t exactly expected this of all things. So far, their people were getting along just fine. Crescent seemed to take a liking to Spike almost instantly. However, the exact opposite was the case between Crescent and herself. For whatever reason, the thestral captain had absolutely no respect for her. Even Song was more polite.

“Man, what a weird group,” Spike chuckled. “In kind of a good way, though. They were creeping me out a little at first, what with their whole ‘equality’ talk. Thought they were doing something like Starlight was. But na, this is completely different.”

Luna didn’t respond. She was too busy sulking still. It didn’t take long for Spike to notice.

“Hey, you alright?”

Luna gazed at the floor. “Crescent is the first free thestral I’ve talked to in a thousand years. The first link I’ve recovered to a part of my past I thought had vanished. Yet… she doesn’t seem to want anything to do with me.”

“Woah, hold on there,” Spike said in a comforting tone. “Yeah, she was kind of short with you. Rude, to be honest. But I don’t think it’s anything personal.”

“Isn’t it?” Luna said. “I’ve known others like her in the past. Solid anarchists. Yet we grew to have an understanding.”

“I’ve definitely never met anypony like them before,” Spike said.

“Anarchism is a very old ideology, Spike,” Luna stated. “It comes and goes in terms of popularity - usually depending on societal stability - and has different names and attributes. For instance, these creatures have a modern, ‘structured’ version of it. However, they all have the same roots: roots that stretch back to times primordial.” A warm, nostalgic smile came to her lips. “In fact, do you remember the blue hedgehog I once spoke of?”

“The one who went really fast and disappeared?” Spike blinked. “Gonna be honest: I seriously thought you were just making him up as some kind of weird joke.”

Luna gave him a blank look. “He was no joke. He was a hero to many; a villain to others. One who frequently stole from the rich to give to the poor. Very much an anarchist. ‘Sonic Flash’, he was called. Though that was just one of his names. Nopony knew his real one. Unfortunately, due to my responsibilities, many a time was I forced to oppose him. But as we battled over the years, we gained respect for each other. And eventually… even each other’s friendship.”

“Lawful Good versus Chaotic Good,” Spike joked. “Makes sense you’d become… friend enemies. Frienemies?”

“A good word for it,” Luna smiled, before glancing at him curiously. “Though I’m not sure what those other terms you mentioned mean.”

“Ogres and Obliette’s thing,” Spike said. “Don’t worry about it. But anyway, you said it took time for that to happen, right? Might just be the same with Crescent.”

“Perhaps,” Luna said. “However, for now I would like you to take the lead with fostering relations.”

Spike raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“There is no need to be modest,” Luna said. “You’re an affable individual, and whatever reasons Crescent has for her dislike of me, those reasons don’t seem to extend to you.”

“Maybe,” Spike said. “But… the way you were talking…”

“Our well-being depends on making friends,” Luna said. “Out here, it isn’t just magic, it’s survival. If I have to seclude myself from the process; to once again stay distant from my children of the night, so bet it.”

She bowed her head slightly.

“No matter how much it hurts.”

Captain's Fall

"Let's see… engineering…" Spike said, flying down the halls of the Starshot's lower decks.

There was no better time than now to start making friends with Crescent, even if he had to play wrench monkey for a little. But unfortunately, getting to her was a bit of a problem, as he had to admit he was a bit lost. Every other deck on the ship had a pretty simple layout: a long corridor stretching from aft to stern, sub-corridors and rooms hanging off it. However, this deck was completely different. More of a maze than anything. He was getting close to dropping his pride and asking the computer for help when he almost ran into somepony.

"Oh! Woah!" Spike said, screeching to a midair halt. "Heh, sorry about that."

Before him was a threstral. One who gazed at him bashfully, equally apologetic. With two, cute little fangs hanging out of her mouth, Spike had to admit she looked kind of adorable.

‘Why the hell did the ancient Equestrians shun these guys?’

"Just heading to engineering…" Spike coughed, trying to get himself back on topic. "I'm a little lost, though."

The threstral nodded understandingly, before gesturing to a particular corridor. She then bent her arm in an L-shape, which Spike took as a need to make a left.

"Oh, thanks," Spike said. "Heh, wow, you already know my ship more than I do."

She simply shrugged.

"Mare of few words, huh?" Spike said. "It’s cool. I can do enough talking for the both of us."

She shook her head, pointing to a particular spot on her neck - usually where vocal cords would be.

Spike understood what this meant immediately. He winced. "Oh… damn. Sorry. That was stupid of me."

She shrugged again, as if to say, 'no big deal'.

She then seemed to think about something for a moment, looking as if she was summoning the courage to ask a potent question. Finally, she moved to remove something from a saddlebag that hung at her side: a black marker. Holding it in her mouth, she walked over to a nearby bulkhead, before looking towards Spike as if asking for permission.

"Er, sure," he coughed. "I don't think anypony would mind."

She nodded appreciatively, before quickly (and quite decently) drawing Luna's head.

"Huh," Spike blinked. "Not bad."

She smiled, paused for a second, and then almost apprehensively drew an equal sign. She followed it with a heart, then a multiplication sign, then a bat pony's head, and finally… a question mark.

Spike gazed at it for a second. It was obviously a question, but what kind, he could only guess at. "Does… Princess Luna love threstrals?"

She nodded, and before Spike could respond, she quickly drew three dots (...) followed by a hand-clock on the wall. She then made a circular motion on it with one of her hooves, which Spike took to mean the passage of time. She finished by drawing another question mark by it.

"Hm…" he pondered. "Do I… have time?"

She shook her head. She pointed at the previous drawing, then at the dots, then at the clock.

"Oooooh!" Spike said. "Does Princess Luna still love threstrals after… after all this time?"

She nodded in excitement, clapping her hooves together.

"Heh," Spike smirked. "Well let me put it this way: I've heard her call you her 'Children of the Night'. Seems pretty affectionate to me."

She seemed stunned for a second, but her eyes quickly widened with delight. She began to bounce gleefully.

"You're a fan, huh?" Spike asked.

She nodded once more.

"You should go tell her," Spike smiled. "She'd probably like that."

Her eyes widened again, though this time there was an air of nervousness about them.

"She won't bite," Spike grinned. "Just catch her in the cafeteria or something."

She paused, considering his words, before nodding once more. Without warning, she gave Spike a brief hug--

"Woah, heh, you're welcome."

--Before continuing down the corridor. As she trotted, Spike noticed her cutie-mark: a red cross. This was Crescent’s sister, Waning Moon, he believed her name was. She must have been visiting the former.

Spike smiled before carrying on. And thanks to the threstral's directions, he finally found his destination.

His reason for getting lost in the first place was he had never actually been in the Starshot’s engineering section before. Truth be told, he wasn’t really that interested in anything down there. However, this changed slightly when he entered what was called the ‘Hypercore Room’ near the rear of the ship. It sort of resembled the bridge: circular with various consoles facing the walls. But instead of the captain’s chair at the center, there was a massive, cylindrical object, stretching ten meters high from the floor to the ceiling.

‘That’s gotta be the power core,’ Spike thought, mesmerized by the shimmering energy flowing through it; some type of windows giving a view within.

Doctor Whooves, Big Mac, and Crescent were already there, the latter working at one of the consoles, the former eagerly watching her work. They didn't seem to notice his entry.

“Aye, can’t blame ya’ for not fixin’ this yerselves,” Crescent said, manipulating the console before her with a skill far surpassing anything Spike had seen before. “Empire doesn’t have any training programs for this kinda problem.”

“E,yup,” Big Mac said sorrowfully.

“Heh, don’t worry, big fellah,” Crescent said. “Stick with me and I’ll getcha up ta’ speed.”

“E’yup,” Big Mac said, his tone taking a one-eighty into cheerfulness.

“Any idea what the problem is so far?” Doctor Whooves asked.

“Oi, patience now,” Crescent said, slightly annoyed. “I dunno what engineers on Equis are like, but out here, ya’ rush things, ya’ go boom.”

“Sorry, just curious,” the good doctor replied. “To be honest, I have no idea where to even begin with this sort of thing...”

Crescent smiled slightly. “Eager to learn, then? I like that. Gotta say, it’s refreshin’. Usually Science Officers are cocky bastards. Think they know everything about everything.”

Doctor Whooves chuckled. “My dear, I don’t think I’ve ever been more humbled than by this final frontier.”

“Fair enough,” Crescent smirked. “Though just remember that the ‘frontier’ as you call it is home to us.”

“Ah, yes,” Doctor Whooves said, flushing slightly. “I suppose that was a bit of an Equis-centric attitude.”

“Hah, no big deal,” Crescent said. “Just havin’ a bit of-- Ah, here we go. System diagnostics. Can ya’ believe they don’t teach lads how to bring this up in the Empire? My umbral always got pissy whenever I did it, but he couldn’t shrug off the results I got.”

“Wait, you’re not a native to the NLR?” Doctor Whooves asked.

“In spirit, yes, but in body, no,” Crescent said. “Grew up in the Oblivion Empire. Feckin’ nightmare lookin’ back on it. Only got worse when I joined their ‘Shadow Edge Armada’’. Rather leave it at that for now, if ya’ don’t mind.”

“I understand,” Doctor Whooves nodded.

"Thank ya'," Crescent said. "Ah! Found it!"

"How to fix it?" Big Mac asked.

"Naw, me lost socks," Crescent grunted sarcastically.

Big Mac frowned.

Crescent looked at him apologetically. "Oi, just playin' with ya', big felleh. Gonna have to get used to that if we're workin' together."

‘Annnnd now for my entrance,’ Spike thought.

"Don't be too mean," he spoke up, walking over to the group with a smile. "He doesn’t look like it, but Big Mac's actually a big softy."

"Hey!" he grumbled.

Crescent laughed at that. "Worse things ta' be, ya’ cheeky dragon. Anyways, yer' just in time. Think we got this issue pinned. Looks like the failsafe Song put in didn't actually do any physical damage. Yer' SO here--" She gestured to Doctor Whooves. "--had the right idea. Central computer is what's holdin' ya’ up. Once we disconnect it from those systems, you'll be clear."

Spike raised his eyebrows, impressed. "That… that's great!"

Crescent raised a hoof. "Hold on there. This won't be completely easy-peasy. We’ll need to rewire the hyperdrive to the main engineering control module, punch in HSJC and regulate PI manually since we won't have the computer to do it, and… you have no idea what I'm talkin' about, do ya'?"

Spike shrugged. "Nope, but it sounded cool."

Crescent deadpanned. "Well, at least yer' honest."

"Crescent, your First Officer has requested your presence in the Meeting Room," the computer suddenly squawked.

"Ach!" Crescent growled, jutting up from her console in surprise and nearly hitting her head on a low-hanging bulkhead. "Next time give a warnin', ya blasted bag o' bolts!" She then sighed, gazing at the creatures around her apologetically. "Sorry, I gotta go for a wee bit. But I'll be back."

"Mind if I come with?" Spike asked.

"It's yer’ ship," Crescent said. "Buuuuut this is supposed to be a bit o' a private matter. No offense, but we’d be happier if we kept this to ourselves."

"Oh, okay, no problem," Spike said.

Crescent sighed, walking to the door of engineering. "Don't worry. Like I said, I’ll be back sooner than later. This won't take long."

Ten minutes later, Crescent found herself surrounded by a mix of cold and sympathetic eyes. Truth be told, at the moment she would be more comfortable with a briefing room table filled with Equins rather than her own crew.

“Captain Crescent Moon of the Tyrant’s End, as per Page 215 of the Book of Ideal Laws, an inquiry and vote of approval or disapproval of your conduct is required,” Snoopy said, reciting the entry almost precisely, though in a reluctant tone.

His usual, casual accent and laid back attitude were gone for now, replaced by a cold decorum. “This meeting will determine whether or not you remain as our current captain. Keep in mind that this is automatic after the loss or severe crippling of any NLR vessel.”

“Hah!” Clea scowled, her tail wagging furiously. “Automatic or not, you had this coming!”

The murmurs of agreement and murmurs of disagreement were almost split 50-50, from what Crescent could hear.

“Everyone, keep it cool,” Snoopy sighed, his casual accent coming back. “I know we’re strung out, but we gotta get through this.” He nodded to Crescent. “Crescent, you know the drill. Give a general defense, then comes the questions.”

Crescent’s gazed at him sorrowfully, her mood dropping to a new low. She had known this was coming; but damn if it didn’t still hurt. “I…” she began. “I did the best job I could. Made a lot of mistakes, but did a lot of things right, I think. All I can really think to say.”

Another thestral angrily raised her hoof.

“Go ahead,” Snoopy nodded.

“Yeah, thanks,” he growled, glaring at Crescent. “Listen, you did do a lot of good, and we respect that. However, when it came down to it… well, everyone here knows we should have withdrawn at the first sign of trouble. But you wanted to keep on fighting. Now, we’ve practically lost our ship and two of our people are in critical condition. Nothing can excuse this.”

Crescent glared in return, wanting to immediately respond. But she held her tongue, waiting on Snoopy.

“Crescent?” Snoopy said.

“We were goin’ up against another frigate,” Crescent said. “Yes, we were takin’ a beating, but ya’ can’t determine where a fight’s goin’ that early. Not when both sides are equally matched.”

Clea raised a paw.

“Clea,” Snoopy nodded.

“We were taking more than a beating,” Clea snapped. “We couldn’t land a single shot on them! You should have known right there and then that we were outmatched. But your ego wouldn’t allow you to admit it! If not for our new ‘friends’, we would be stranded here, waiting for Song to throw us in shackles!”

Crescent swallowed hard. Usually, if she had been accused of something like that, hooves would be swinging. However, this wasn’t a lie. This was… the truth. She honestly couldn’t think of any way to respond to that. All she could do was hang her head in shame.

The room held its breath, until finally, Snoopy broke the silence.

“Crescent, any defense?”

“No, Snoops,” Crescent said, her heart sinking low. “Thanks.”

“Then it’s time to vote,” Snoopy said. “Crescent, gotta have you wait outside for this part.”

“I-I understand,” she said, trying as hard as she could to keep her eyes from misting up.

Such a thing might have actually gain her sympathy, but she didn’t exactly want sympathy at the moment. Deep down, she knew she deserved what was coming. So without another word, she sat up and sauntered towards the exterior corridor. She then manually closed the door behind her, making sure they wouldn’t automatically open, before leaning against the nearby wall.

“All in favor of keeping Crescent as our captain?” she heard Snoopy’s muffled voice say.

There was a pause. A few of them such as her sister would certainly be on her side, but she didn’t believe it’d be a majority.

“Right. And all in favor of a People’s Demotion?”

More silence.

“Okay, then. It’s settled. I’ll uh… I’ll tell her myself. Owe her that much.”

And once more, as she was feeling a lot lately, Crescent regretted ever taking the chair in the first place. For at the moment, her heart was as broken as her ship.

The Wounded

Spike was a bit confused to find Crescent in the cafeteria an hour later. He had expected her to return to engineering, but instead, the computer directed him there. Her current location wasn't as half as confusing as her singing, however. Something he could hear from the corridor.

“The minstrel girl to the war is gone,

In the ranks of death you will find her.

Her father’s sword she hath girded on,

And her wild harp slung behind her.”

Curious, Spike entered the cafeteria, only to find it empty, save for Crescent. She was holding a bottle of something. Something she took a swig of as she spotted Spike.

"Crescent?" Spike called, furrowing his brow. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be in engineering?"

"Ugh, go away," she grumbled. "Can't ya' see I'm busy?"

She took another swig from the bottle, allowing Spike to make out it's label. He couldn't read it - it was in Old Equestrian - but he could take a guess as to the contents.

"Hey, nopony would blame you if you needed a break," Spike said, trying to keep a fair tone, though he was guessing that this was due to more than just 'needing a break'. "You've obviously been through a lot lately."

"Hmph," she groaned. "I've needed a break fer' two years now. Never expected it to come this way, though." She sighed, gazing at Spike with slightly apologetic eyes. "I’m sorry. You can stay if ya’ want. Actually had some questions for ya', if you don't mind."

“Like what?” he asked.

“The Garden,” she said whimsically. “What’s it like?”

Spike smiled slightly, taking a seat next to her. "In what way?"

"In general, I guess," she said, her words with only a hint of a slur. "Is it peaceful?"

"Most of the time," Spike said. "Well, when we aren't being attacked by monsters and stuff."

“Monsters?” Crescent blinked. “Are we talkin’ metaphorically or...?”

“Naw, I mean literal monsters,” Spike said. “Hydras, bugbears, wereponies, vampires, you name it. Buuuut like I said, they get taken down pretty quick.”

Crescent tapped her chin. "Huh. Well, what about wars? Any wars?"

"Rarely," Spike said. "I mean we've had conflicts, but they don’t go on for too long."

"Mmm," Crescent said, smiling slightly as she took another swig. "So that’s pretty much a ‘no’ then. Heh, wouldn't that be a nice change o' pace."

She began singing another verse:

“‘Land of song!’ said the warrior-bard,

Though all the world betrays thee,.

One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,

One faithful harp shall praise thee.”

A beat. Spike glanced out at the cafeteria window, watching debris from the Tyrant’s End drift by in silent contemplation. He was pretty sure he knew what the song was about, but he didn’t want to pry. Instead, it was Crescent who spoke first.

“Father used to sing it to me when I was a wee foal," she said bitterly. "Feckin' bastard thought what he was doin' was so noble. Bleh. Brainwashed fool. I only sing it now to remind myself why we have ta' keep fighting, even if it's never easy. Even if..."

She gazed downward, setting down her bottle.

"Even if things don't always go our way."

Spike gazed at her curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Yer' a smart lad," Crescent said. "Sure ya already got an inkling of it. I've just been kicked out o’ the captain's chair."

Spike frowned slightly. "I… did have an idea about what was going on. With what you mentioned earlier."

"I feel like I should be furious," Crescent said solemnly. "With all the battles I led em' through. All the no wins I got us outa. But all I feel is… cold."

"I'm sorry," Spike said.

"Don't be," she said, coughing slightly. "I've earned it. Not just for my screw-ups, but for… but for sitting around here moping afterwards.” Her voice took an angry tone. “Seriously, the hell am I doing? I got ta’ get back to work. For my people… for my sister."

"Heh, I actually just ran into her a second ago," Spike said. "Found out she's a pretty good artist."

"Good artist, great doctor," Crescent smiled. "She means the world to me." Her smile quickly evaporated. "Never would have had a chance to shine, too, if I didn't get her outa the Empire."

"What do you mean?" Spike asked.

She gazed at Spike pensively, and her voice grew darker as she said:

"Do you know what the Empire does to 'weak links'? To creatures they think are 'defective'?" she asked.

"Whatever it is doesn't sound good," Spike gulped.

"They tried to do it to my sister," Crescent growled. "Just cus she had a broken talker. And my father, he was such a damned fanatic… he practically disowned her! He..." She frivously shook her head. "No. Not going down that rabbit hole. Not now. Got too much to do."

She stood up, walking over towards the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. "Let me sober up for a lil', then I'll be down in engineering. We'll get this ship sailing in no time, you'll see."

"Are you sure you don't need a little--"

"No!" she shouted, before taking a deep breath. "No. No thank you. I'll be alright."

Spike nodded, sitting up from his chair and walking towards the door.

"Oh, and Spike," she said. "You should know me crew still wants me to be the 'liason' between you and us.”

Spike smiled. "I'm glad."

She nodded respectfully. "So am I."

An hour later, Crescent had positioned herself inside one of the crawl-spaces underneath the power core room. It was accessible via a removable panel, and according to her, allowed one to access the inputs to the hyperdrive, which, unlike the power core, was fully surrounded by a radiation and heat-absorbing bulkhead, at least in older starships.

“Night damn it’s bloomin’ cramped down ere’,” she called, her voice muffled from within. “Can’t believe they used to build em’ like this. Safer, I guess - less chance of a Star Shed spill killin folk - but a pain in the arse to mess with.”

“I think Luna might know a shrinking spell,” Spike joked. “If it’s that cramped.”

“Haw haw haw, no thank you,” she grumbled. “Doc, if ya’ could pass me the blue cable…”

“Here you are,” Doctor Whooves nodded, sliding one of the many cables now laying all around the room to her.

The whole place was starting to look like a mess by Spike’s standards, but it was a necessary mess. Crescent apparently needed to rewire half of everything there to make this sort of thing work.

“Gotcha, ya’ little bastard!” Crescent cried trimuphantly, accompanied by the crackle of an electrical surge.

A second later, she popped up from the hatch, grinning widely. This was despite the fact she was covered head to toe in soot and dust, a far cry from the (fairly) clean captain who boarded the Starshot a short while ago.

“Haha!” she said, giddier than Spike had seen her yet. “Ooooh man did I miss this. Diggin’ around ship guts, solvin’ practical problems…” She trotted over to one of the consoles, flicked through a few menus, and then…

WHOOOOOOM!.!.!

The sound of power filling the hyperdriive echoed throughout the room.

“... And instant gratification! Haw!”

“You mean it’s fixed?” Doctor Whooves said, impressed. “That quickly?”

“I was an engineer for ten years before becomin’ a captain,” Crescent said proudly. “Damned right it was that quickly.”

“So. Good,” Big Mac said, a bit of awe in his tone.

“Yeah… I don’t mean to steal your thunder,” Spike said. “But… wasn’t this all a little too easy?”

“What are ya’ on about?” Crescent said grumpily.

“Song’s supposed to be a strategic genius, right?” Spike pointed out. “Two chess moves ahead of everypony else. Yet he left us with our impulse engines in the same system where you guys were, needing to be rescued.”

“What, are ya’ sayin’ we’re secret spies or something?” Crescent laughed.

“No, I’m not saying that,” Spike said, rolling his eyes. “What I am saying is he left us in the same system as you; a talented engineer. Somepony who easily fixed our problem. This just seems like something he should have seen coming.”

“Your caution is warranted, my draconic friend,” Doctor Whooves spoke up. “However, it’s quite possible Song simply was unaware of the engineering talent at our disposal.”

Spike furrowed his brow. “Doesn’t seem like the type to miss that sort of thing.”

“He’s not,” Crescent said, nodding slightly. “Not usually. Though there is a good chance my record might have been… erased from their databases.”

“Huh?” Spike blinked.

Crescent gazed at him. “The Empire has a habit of making anypony who betrays them a non-person. Anypony who does it… poof. Never existed.”

“Suppose that’s to be expected for such a civilization,” Doctor Whooves said.

“E’yup,” Big Mac agreed.

“Good for their propaganda, but bad for them in times like this,” Crescent smirked. “Song would have no way of knowin’ about me skill with a wrench.”

“I guess,” Spike admitted. “But something still feels… off.”

“Yer’ just being paranoid,” Crescent said. “Can’t blame ya’. Song does that ta’ ponies. I only met him a second ago, but I’ve heard others talk about em’. He gets into yer’ head, makes ya’ start second-guessing yerself. Best thing we can do is carry on like we would be.”

“Yeah,” Spike said, trying to hide the little bit of skepticism left in his voice. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Anywho,” Crescent continued. “Unless yer’ desperate for Star Shed...”

“What’s that, again?”

“Er, Solarium,” Crescent coughed. “Unless we need more o’ that, we should get outa here. Just in case Song decides to drop in earlier than he said he would. I’ll need to stay down here; ta’ make sure everything’s working and to hit in hyperspace coordinates manually.”

“Coordinates to where?” Spike asked.

“Firefall Station,” she smiled. “Well, ultimately. We’ll be jumping to a few spots in interstellar space first - just to make sure nopony’s following us.”

Spike sighed in relief. “That makes me feel better. But still, what kind of station is this?”

“A hidden one,” Crescent chuckled. “Has a lot of functions, but what’s important is it should have everything we need to get this ship fully back to normal - ya' won't have to rely on this paperclip and bubblegum job I did fer’ long. Not to mention, ships are comin’ and going all the time to it. Once we're done, we'll be able to catch a ride on one of em’ to get home. Get outa yer manes.”

“And… that’s it?” Spike asked.

Crescent exhaled deeply. “I wish it wasn’t. Truly. You lot have been good ta’ us. And workin’ with ya’ has been a pleasure. But I just don’t think our people would mesh well, ta’ be honest.”

“Is it our people, or just our leader?” Spike asked.

Crescent stood silent.

Spike pressed on. “Cus you know, Luna isn’t… like most ‘monarchs’.”

Crescent gave him a humored smirk. “Oh isn’t she, now? What, is she nicer? ‘Enlightened’? Lets creatures do what they want with their own lives but still feels they’re too beneath er’ to be in charge? I like ya', Spike. But you’ve grown up in their system, from what I know; yeh don’t have the perspective to look at em’ objectively.”

“You’re right, I did grow up in their system,” Spike said. “But I’ve… always felt like kind of an outsider. Dragons and Equestrians didn’t always get along, you know. Not until recently. So my perspective has been, well, kind of different.”

“Hmmm…” Crescent said. “Alright, I get where yer' comin’ from. But how do you think Luna is so different?”

“Cus for one thing, when we first came on this ship?” Spike said. “She didn’t just take control right off the bat. We did a vote.”

Crescent raised an eyebrow. “That… that’s a bit surprising.”

“I can vouch for that,” Doctor Whooves smiled. “I came in second place! Might have won if Derpy wasn’t, ahem, reasonably annoyed with me at that moment.”

Crescent furrowed her brow, gazing at Spike pensively. “And she didn’t try to, I dunno, brow beat you into making her in charge? No threats, hoity toity talk of ‘superior’ intellect or whatever it is they use to keep control?”

“I mean, her being a princess did kind of stack it in her favor a little bit,” Spike admitted. “Since, ya know, she’s lived a long time, and ponies knew that. But she wasn’t the one to bring that up. And the fact she was cool with it in the first place…” Spike began to pace. “As well-meaning as the other princesses can be, I do get you when you say they think they’re ‘better’ than the rest of us. I really do. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Even my own sister, Twilight Sparkle, can be like that sometimes."

He raised a claw. "But I do not get that feeling when I’m talking with Luna. Probably cus’ she knows what it’s like to be looked down on herself. Even though I’m like a thousand years younger than her, she treats me like an equal. Listens to what I have to say. And full disclosure: she even trusted me enough to try to win your favor. Said I could do what she couldn’t.”

Crescent laughed. “Full blown honesty? A rare diplomatic tactic, I have ta’ say.” She then smiled warmly at Spike. “Alright, ya’ made a good case. I’ll think about it. Might even be willing to set ya’ up with a meeting with Big Blue… if he’ll still give me the time o’ day.”

“Who is Big Blue again?” Spike asked.

“Tricky question,” Crescent said. “He’s like… like our diplomatic guru, and one of the head honchos on the Civil Council. Has been for many moons. All that can be really said is that the majority of us… well, we’ve agreed that when he talks, we listen.” She cleared her throat. “Anywho, you and Doc Whooves are probably needed on the bridge. Big Mac, you should stay here and shadow me. I’ll teach ya' a few things those damned tutorials never would."

“E’yup!” he said excitedly.

She turned back to Spike. “If yer’ captain’s okay with where we’re goin’, we should have things ready in about fifteen minutes. After that, she just needs to give me tha’ signal.”

“Gotcha,” Spike nodded, turning towards the engineering entrance, Doctor Whooves in tow.

Before he left, however…

“I still don’t trust her, ya’ know,” Crescent said, a hint of a smile on her face. “But I do trust you.”

Spike couldn’t think of what to say to that, so he merely gave her a polite nod, before heading to the bridge.

***

Once there, it didn’t take Spike long to explain what he had accomplished. The results were… somewhat unexpected.

“Spike, you’ve done wonderfully!” Luna beamed, actually lifting him in the air with her magic to bring him in close for a hug. “Huzah! Huzah!”

“Agh!” Spike groaned, pushing away from her. “I like me some hugs, but a warning would be nice.”

“Oh, heh,” she blushed, setting him down. “Sorry. Just… wow. Two hours and you’ve opened so many doors for us!”

“Never thought I’d see a dragon with a silver tongue,” Pharynx said, impressed. “Not bad. You’d make a good infiltrator back in the day.”

“I’m both simultaneously flattered and deeply disturbed,” Spike said, nodding slowly.

“It was a definite compliment, Spike,“ Ocellus smiled. “In my uncle’s own way.”

“Hmph,” Pharynx said. "That being said, I'm still a little worried about going into unknown territory without weapons."

"Crescent said that that would take a long time to fix," Spike said. "Longer than the hyperdrive, and definitely longer than two days."

"And isn't that convienent?" Pharynx said.

"It isn't really," Doctor Whooves said. "I'm still learning about how internal systems actually function, but I can say with reasonable confidence that she's telling the truth."

Pharynx raised his eyebrows, but his expression did soften slightly. "Very well. But I still believe we should continue to keep a close eye on our new 'friends'. Remember, they are fighting a bitter war, one where their freedom is at stake. And they appear to be at a disadvantage."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "So?”

“So they will be looking for any opportunity to gain an advantage,” Pharynx said. “Which includes the one sitting right in front of their noses.”

Derpy looked at him skeptically. “Wait… do you think they might try to steal the Starshot or something? To help fight?"

"If we were in their place, wouldn't we consider it?" Pharynx grunted.

"Absolutely not," Luna said.

"No way no how!" Derpy proclaimed.

Pharynx gazed at them quizzically. "Look at it from their perspective. A bunch of creatures from a far off land drop a massive weapon off at their door. Creatures who they don't necessarily trust or agree with. And creatures who don't fully understand the weapon they're dealing with, making it easy to take. So, their choices are between letting said creatures they don't trust go on their merry way, taking this deadly weapon to parts unknown. Or(!) taking it for themselves and, quite possibly, using it to save their entire civilization. A civilization they view as far more ethically sound than our own."

The bridge gazed at him, stunned. And Spike had to admit: he made a decent argument.

"'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few'," Ocellus quoted, nodding.

"Ambassador Tight Knot?" The Doctor asked.

"Mhm," Ocellus said. "To them, that sort of thing would actually be the moral choice."

"Exactly," Pharynx said, giving Ocellus a look of approval.

Luna sighed. "Your point is taken, though Tempest has already expressed similar concerns."

“I don’t mind,” Pharynx smirked. "Honestly, I'd expect nothing less from her."

Luna raised a hoof. "However, my response is the same: we have no choice but to trust them at the moment."

"I agree," Pharynx nodded. "But my point still stands. Don't look at things soley from your moral perspective. Consider how the 'other side' thinks. Only then can you be prepared for all eventualities.

"Sounds like something Song would say," Spike said.

"He might of," Pharynx said. "I am paraphrasing The Art of War, after all. Even the leaders of the Oblivion Empire probably think what they're doing is 'right' in some way, provided they aren't completely psychopathic or think in a completely different way than we do."

He narrowed his eyes at Luna.

"Just keep in mind this old changeling saying: certainty is a fool’s errand.”

Firefall

It was pretty easy to see where Firefall Station got its name. It orbited a molten, hellish planet around a young, bright star. One with massive volcanoes covering its surface; shooting the flaming guts of their parent world high into its atmosphere. It was therefore very surprising to Luna when she found out this world wasactually in the star’s habitable zone. The reason for its condition was simply because it was very young, its surface still in flux; battered and bruised by meteorite impacts from the developing solar system.

“So. Pretty,” Derpy said, her eyes twinkling at the sight.

“And a scientific marvel!” Doctor Whooves said, practically drooling. “This system couldn’t have exited the primary proto-planetary disk phase more than… three million years ago? Tops. Behold: a newborn solar system joins the cosmos!”

“Don’t mean ta’ be that gal, but we think it was only a million years ago,” Crescent said, joining Doctor Whooves at his station.

Rather than being offended, he seemed somewhat surprised at her remark. Crescent looked rather irked in return. “What? Just cus we’re fightin’ a war doesn’t mean we don’t do science.”

“In that case, I just must have a look at your discoveries!” Doctor Whooves bounced.

Luna chuckled to herself. She honestly hadn’t seen him this excited since they started scanning Kumquat.

“Ehe,” Crescent said. “I… could see about giving ya’ access to the civil database. First though, we better hail Firefall before they blast us out of the void.”

She wasn’t kidding. The cylindrical station seemed to be going on high alert. Massive, dual-barrelled turrets positioned about it were turning in their direction, and the rectangle, sliding door that was its launch bay was beginning to open. In the meantime, two neighboring ships bearing NLR markings were also turning towards them. One looked just like the Tyrant’s End, but the other was of a much more bulky design resembling an up-scaled version of Crescent’s dropship.

“Actually, they’re already hailing us,” Derpy said.

“On screen,” Luna nodded.

Upon it popped an annoyed looking, light blue minotaur, sitting at a station in what seemed to be a busy communications center of some sort.

“Unidentified ship,” she said in a surprisingly bored tone. “I’m Commander Strong Voice of Firefall Station. Please state what you’re doing here. Otherwise we’re gonna blow you up, m’kay?”

“Uhhhhh…” Spike gulped. “We… come in peace?”

The minotaur raised an eyebrow. “What? Is this some kind of dumb joke? Cus I’m not laughing.”

“Ever the charmer, aren’t ya’, Strong Voice,” Crescent groaned, stepping before the viewscreen.

“Captain Crescent Moon,” she sighed. “An unexpected… ‘pleasure’. What exactly are you doing on that ship?”

“Long story,” Crescent said, glancing away from her. “Though I’m not exactly… captain anymore. I'm Acting Liaison now.”

Strong Voice still seemed to only be paying half attention. “Sucks to be you, I guess.”

“You don’t say?” Crescent growled, before muttering under her breath: “Ya hackin’ howlin numpty.”

That did seem to turn her head. She gave Crescent a quick glare. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Crescent groaned, glancing away from her. “Look, will ya’ just give us permission to dock? We gotta contact Midna Shakuras and the War Council - let em’ know our bloomin’ ship just got blown up. Not to mention, I promised a meetin’ with Big Blue. And unfortunately, you happen to be the only long-range relay and refit station nearby.”

“Gonna need more details than that,” Strong sighed, glancing at a monitor nearby. “I need to know the identity of that ship and the creatures you’re with. We don’t have a ship of that type on record. You know the drill: it’s standard protocol.”

“Night damnit, fine then,” Crescent moaned. “But listen closely, cus I’m only gonna say this once…”

After a few moments, a still agitated Crescent had the communications officer up to speed for the most part. By the time she had, a few other creatures had gathered around Strong, eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Alright, as wild of a story as that is, you’re clear to dock,” Strong grunted. “But if your new friends are coming onboard, you need to stick to them like glue, kapeesh?”

“That will be no issue, commander,” Luna stated.

“Wasn’t talking to you, ‘princess’,” Strong glared. “I want to be very clear: your status as guests is tenuous. Any funny business and you’ll be on an express trip out of here.”

“Friendly, isn’t she?” Spike mumbled.

“Only reason we’re letting you on board is because Crescent made a deal with you,” Strong continued. “Cus personally, your story reeks of bull excrament to me.”

“Easy there, commander,” Crescent laughed sardonically. “I hope ya didn’t deal with the UFP reps like this. Not that I’d blame you that much when it comes to them.”

“I deal with this station in the manner of which I was elected to,” Strong glared. “Dock at Port Four. Strong out.”

The transmission flicked off, replacing Strong with a view of the cylindrical station and the molten world behind it. And much to the bridge’s relief, the former was no longer aiming its turrets at them.

“Well, that went better than expected,” Crescent shrugged, giving Luna a sideways glance. “Glad we caught her on a good day. Though next time, let me do all the talkin’, okay?”

“Very well,” Luna said, a hint of reluctance in her tone. “But I must ask: who are these ‘UFP’ you mentioned?”

Crescent glanced away from her, holding an annoyed look. “United Federated Planets.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Wait… isn’t that the name of the people from Space Trek?”

“That’s right!” Ocellus said. “Well close; they were the United Federation of Planets. But still… how did they… wah?”

“I don’t think it’s that weird,” Derpy shrugged. “I suppose there’s only so many names you could have for a star civilization. Space Trek just took the obvious choice.”

“I have no clue what a ‘Space Trek’ is, lass,” Crescent shrugged. “That’s just what they named themselves. Or renamed themselves, I should say. Pretty recently, too. Either way, I can’t stand em’. Should be called UFT: United Federated Tossers.”

“Why would you say that?” Luna asked.

“Cus they’re a buncha authoritarian, arrogant tech hoarders,” Crescent grumbled. “Rather not get into it more than that, thank you very much. Got too much to do. Need to dig into that timebomb of a computer of yours; see if we can’t get rid of the override programs Song has installed.” She glanced at Pharynx, who was currently eyeing her like a hawk. “Smiles over there probably wants his weapons back.”

“Wouldn’t you?” the grumpy changeling asked. “We’re in unknown territory and almost completely at your mercy. And we have no idea regarding anything about you save for what you’ve told us.”

Crescent smirked. “You Garden changelings are more cynical than I expected.”

“Interesting you’ve brought that up,” Pharynx grunted. “Because I’ve noticed that despite being a composition of every other species from Equis among your ranks, I haven’t seen a single changeling.”

“What if they’re, well, changed,” Spike suggested.

Pharynx shook his head. “No, we would have sensed it. Changelings know changelings.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll bite,” Crescent sighed, unable to meet his gaze. “But it’s a question you may not want answered.”

“I am prepared for the truth,” Pharynx said.

“S-So am I,” Ocellus squeaked.

Crescent paused for a second, before taking a deep breath. It was obvious she didn’t want to talk much about this.

“If you want the details, you’ll need to talk to a historian,” she finally said. “But from what I understand, centuries before the NLR was a thing, the Empire…” She closed her eyes. “Bastards decided changelings were too troublesome to keep around.”

Ocellus looked at Crescent in horror. “Wait, you mean they…”

“We don’t know exactly what went down,” Crescent continued. “They didn’t kill em’, though, if that’s what yer’ thinking. Exiled em’, most likely. Probably left them on some night-forsaken rock. There’s a bunch of em’ in the UFP, though, so they made out alright. Half that star nation is made of em’. All we know is they don’t want much ta’ do with us. You’ll have ta’ talk to em’ if you’re ever unfortunate enough to run into em’.”

“We shall endeavor to,” Luna said, more to Ocellus and Pharynx than anyone. “But we must focus on the here and now. Ocellus, bring us to Port Four. Nice and easy.”

“Aye, captain,” she squeaked, her tone slightly less focused than usual. “Just… um… uncle. Can we have a talk… in private after this?”

Pharynx gazed at her, surprised, but curious. “Sure, kid.”

Ocellus nodded, and despite being somewhat distracted, she began to expertly align the Starshot with Firefall’s docking port. Said port consisted of a retractable, rectangular tube. One which, after they grew close enough, slowly extended from the station, connecting with the Starshot’s primary airlock.

“Starshot. You’re locked in. You may now safely board,” an unfamiliar voice announced via the bridge’s communication system.

“Alrighty,” Crescent said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s get over there.”

Luna nodded towards Spike, smiling slightly “Are you ready for your first away mission?”

“I packed my toothbrush,” Spike grinned. “Still don’t get why you can’t come too, though.”

"My presence may cause… unneeded commotion," Luna stated.

“Best to keep the party as small as possible in general, anyway, lad,” Crescent said. “The Empire’s gone on the offensive recently a few systems away. Everycreature’s gonna be on edge.”

“Perhaps that’s where Song was called off to,” Luna pondered.

“Would make sense,” Crescent nodded. “Battle’s at a standstill last we checked. Ole’ Red Eyes probably wasn’t too happy with that.”

Luna glanced at her curiously. The Song she knew would never leave a battle unattended. Why would he leave the frontlines just to learn more about one of the ships at his command, as he stated? Unless, of course, he was never there to begin with.

“Just stick close ta’ me, lad, and there won’t be any trouble,” she said, turning to Spike. She then sighed. “And please… please don’t give anycreature too much cheek.”

Spike smirked. “Me? Cheek? Never.”

“Okay, seriously? We need to have a talk about Nightmare Moon.”

Spike, Crescent, and Snoopy were the last to board the Firefall. The rest of the Tyrant’s crew, save for Crescent’s sister and the two wounded creatures, had already gone over.

Spike had expected to be astonished by the sights, and he was for the most part. The main promenade was composed of multiple levels, all lined with circular balconies which wrapped around the cylindrical station’s edge. Attached to each of these levels were a number of facilities - all public access, apparently - from manufacturing complexes to mess halls.

And all of it hung under a large mural of an affectionate-looking Nightmare Moon painted on the ceiling.

“Oi, watch it there,” Crescent said. “I don't know what propaganda Celestia has been feedin’ you lot for the last thousand years, but we threstrals know the truth about her. Nightmare Moon was one of the greatest things to happen ta' me people. The greatest, maybe. If she had won the War of the Two Sisters, your world woulda been a utopia by now! Reached the stars hundreds of years ago!"

Spike shook his head in dismay at that. He wanted to tell her that he had personally encountered the Nightmare; twice, actually. And both times, there wasn't even a hint that she was anything more than a monster.

However, a look from Snoopy quickly shot that idea down.

"Best to chill with that kinda talk, lil' dude," he said. "Threstrals have always dug Nightmare Moon. Even the ones in the Empire do."

"For the wrong reasons," Crescent added. "They think she was some kind of Deep One in alicorn form. Idiots. And The Empire, being The Empire, cheerfully co-opted the idea."

"As for the rest of us, we just kinda roll with it," Snoopy shrugged. "Not really our hill to die on."

Spike let out a sigh. "Okay, then…"

Crescent gave him a slight smile in appreciation. "Not askin' ya' to like her, but would it be a bad thing ta' challenge yer' preconceptions of her?"

Again, Spike wanted to say that he had more than a 'preconception' of her, but he had to agree with Snoopy: it might not be the best hill to die on. Especially since the station, given what he saw so far, had a large population of threstrals.

"I'll uh," Spike coughed. "I'll do my best." Quickly changing the topic, he blurted out: "So, what's the game plan?"

"I've got ta' get a team assembled to start workin' on that computer o' yours,” Crescent spoke.

"In the meantime, me and you are gonna try to set up a meeting with Big Blue," Snoopy nodded.

Spike's eyes widened. He glanced at Crescent, stunned. "Really?"

"Don't get all misty eye'd on me," Crescent laughed. "I told ya I'd think about it, and well… yer' right. Luna isn't that bad, from what I've seen. Far cry from Nightmare, but… not bad. Maybe a relationship really could work. Like I said, Big Blue’s got sway. He’s been part o’ the Civil Council longer than any of em’. Get chummy with him and you’ll be in our good graces in no time."

"That… that's great!" Spike beamed.

"See?" she winked. "Challenging yer' preconceptions isn't such a bad thing now, is it?"

Spike turned to Snoopy. "And you're okay with this?"

He chuckled. "Listen, dog, even though my new, bone-headed crew decided they were too good for Crescent doesn't mean she don't got my ear. Far as I'm concerned, if she says you're straight, you're straight."

For the first time since Spike had met her, Crescent seemed genuinely touched. She gazed at Snoopy with affection. "Thanks, mo cariad."

"Ain't no need to thank me, girl," he shrugged.

"R-Right then," Crescent said, making a vein attempt to stow her emotions. "I'll see ya' two later. Good luck, Captain Snoopy."

“I’d say ‘don’t have too much fun’,” Snoopy winked. “But I know how you are with that engineering stuff.”

“Hehe, guilty as charged.”

The two groups went their separate ways; Crescent to a facility on the 'ground' floor and Spike and Snoopy heading to the top of the station. Yet before Spike had gotten too far, he noticed something odd: a pair of threstrals trailing Crescent. One who looked nervous, and the other who Spike had sworn had shot him a quick wink. He continued watching them until both parties were out of sight, all the while wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him.

Back aboard the Starshot, Luna watched, amused, as Derpy and Doctor Whooves continued to fawn over the data they were taking in about the system itself. Not that she felt above such a thing, of course. She was just as curious. She just found the duo’s enthusiasm too adorable to ignore.

“... And take a look at this, my friend!” Doctor Whooves beamed, pointing to a specific spot on his console screen. “The seventh planet out - this gas giant - has a large concentration of lighter elements in orbit around it. A disk! Quite a large one, too. The planet's still accreting material! Have to give Bill Neigh credit: it appears G-type main sequence stars do not shed as much material as many have theorized. The sheer gravitational pull of the outer planets and the matterial itself is compensating for the solar winds!”

Luna glanced at him curiously. “This star is considered ‘main sequence’?”

“G-type and main sequence,” Derpy nodded. “That’s the big alien hunting class, right, doc?”

“The consensus is they would be the most likely to harbor life,” Doctor Whooves nodded. “Of course, this system is very unlikely to have anything. Well, anything originating from it, that is. It is far, far too young.”

‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Doctor,’ Luna thought to herself. ‘Life was here from the beginning, assuming I simply haven't lost my mind. Though it is strange it is the second star that has not yet tried to speak to me--’

“Ooooo! I heard something about talking with stars?! That means-- A Star Speaker! Finally! Hoi there! How ya’ doin’? Jinkies, I have so many questions. But first, the big one: do you think I’m pretty?!”

Luna nearly jumped out of her seat. Not only did the voice come out of nowhere, but this was pretty much a final confirmation that indeed, her ability to talk to stars wasn't imagined. She was growing worried after she had failed to make contact with the Red Hypergiant before they left. Even in the dream realm, the only evidence she found of an unusual entity was a single 'dream' orb glowing dimly in the distance.

It did not say anything when she approached it.

Nevertheless, it didn't matter now. This star certainly wasn't shy. Like her dwarf friend, it had a positively booming voice. However, unlike the dwarf, it was distinctively young and distinctively female.

‘I’m um, I’m well,’ Luna thought, gazing out the viewscreen at its burning form in the distance.There was still a decent amount of dust swirling around it, obscuring it to a small degree. However, the beautiful, dancing colors reflected off it only helped punctuate the star’s beauty. ‘And yes, you are very pretty.’

“Zoinks! That’s great! You’re nice, do you know that? I like nice tinies!”

‘I try to be.’ She furrowed her brow. ‘... Wait, though, ‘tinies’?’

“Oh, sorry! It’s just you’re all kind of… tiny!” the star laughed. “Anyway, what about the others? Do they think I’m pretty, too?!”

‘Are you speaking of the NLR?’

“The ones inside the metal thing orbitting my second child, yeah! I hear them talking, though I can’t talk back!”

‘Hear them talking?’

“Oh yeah, they talk all the time! When they point their metal rod thing my way I can listen! I don’t think they’re talking to me, though. They’re talking to others like them! Around my kin who’ve adopted them! Hard to hear them - so tiny - but I’ve learned how! Happy face!”

Luna thought for a moment. She didn't think stars could hear anyone outside of those with her… ability. How could she--

Oh.

‘You’re speaking of their communication transmissions.’

Somehow, she-- it must have found a way to ‘translate’ them.

“Yeah, I think that’s what they call them! They don’t talk about me too much, though, save for when they’re complaining. ‘Ugh! Luminosity’s increased five percent in two weeks! Have to adjust light dampeners again. Friggin’ variable stars...’ and ‘Heavy solar flare activity today! All ships advised to turn on EMP shielding.’ Pffft! They say that like it’s a bad thing! I’m just putting on a show! Sad face. Guess I can’t blame them for not knowing, though, huh? They don’t have a Star Speaker to tell them!”

‘And what else do they speak of?’

“The war, duh! Always about the war. War war war war WAR! It never changes. I mean, I like these tinies, really. They’re out fighting those creepy Deep Ones. But it gets soooooo boring after a while, ya’ know?”

‘I wish I could agree. Perhaps if war was more boring, fewer would engage in it.’

“Well, it’s boring to me! And it’s horrible for them! Whenever someone talks back to them it’s never good news. It’s always ‘This ship got blowed up!’ ‘Now this ship got blowed up!’ ‘Uh oh, now even more ships got blowed up! Halp!’”

‘Fighting is their only option, unfortunately. The Oblivion Empire isn't giving them a choice.’

“No it’s not! The Deep Ones don’t know about this place! Well, they probably know since I’m really bright and pretty and all but I don’t think they know anyone’s here but me! But yeah, all the cooler tinies should just come here! I’ll protect them and love them and snuggle em’! In turn they can talk about how pretty I am. I am pretty, right?”

‘Yes! You are very pretty!’

‘YAAAAAAAAAAY!’

Luna chuckled to herself. This was one self-conscious star. Not that Luna could throw too many stones. If there was a constant for all sapient life, it would probably be it wanted to be admired to a certain degree. The star was just more… expressive about it. Much like Luna was when she was very young.

Though relatively speaking, this star actually was very young from what she knew. And her words left a burning question on her mind.

'How would you protect them? What if the Empire does find them?'

"Oh, that's easy. By FRYING ALL THOSE WHO DARE DEFY THIS SANCTUARY!"

Luna recoiled slightly at that.

"Also, with hugs. Star hugs!"

Luna thought for a moment. 'Are you saying you can direct your energies? Destroy enemy vessels with them?'

"Sort of! I'd need a Star Speaker's help to keep any good cute little tinies from getting hurt, though. And hey! You're a Star Speaker. Are you sticking around?"

'I do… not believe so.'

"Dawwww… but-- oh wait. Hold that thought. The tinies are doing that thing I like again. I love when they do those! We'll talk later, kay? Byyyyyyyye! Nice meeting you!"

'What the--'

"Oh hey, look at this," Derpy said, gazing at a blinking light on her monitor. "Captain, looks like we're picking up some sort of… um… unencrypted transmission from out of system. Audio and visual."

“Fancy that!” Doctor Whooves mused. “Some form of public broadcast?”

“Only one way to find out," Luna said. "Put it on screen."

Derpy nodded, and with a huge improvement from where she began, easily manipulated her console controls. On screen appeared a rather odd site; a sock puppet show of some sorts. Not just any puppets, however. One appeared to look like Grand Admiral Warp Song, and another, an umbral (with an attached miniature smoke machine providing it's puffy appearance).

"LIVE! From Midna Shakuras!" a disembodied voice said. "This is Horribly Depressing NLR News Presented in Puppet Form to Make it Bearable to Watch!"

A moment later, the puppet resembling the umbral began to wiggle. "Grand Admiral Warp Song," it said in an overly-exagerated ‘evil’ tone.

"Yes, Grand Steward?" Puppet Warp Song said. His voice was a bit more subdued, but still a gross bastardization of the real thing.

Luna and her bridge crew couldn’t help but giggle at it.

"You are hereby ordered to take command of our forces engaging the NLR," the umbral said. "Your first mission is to take the Byson Swarm system known as The Web. Every last one of the ten thousand orbiting habitats must be occupied, its inhabitants brought back into the fold.”

"But, Grand Steward," Puppet Song interjected. "This will undeboutedly cost us a great amount of lives, time, and resources. The NLR doesn't want to fight us. Why don't we just leave them alone?"

"Because the Deep Ones command we fight them, that's why!"

"And why are we following their orders again?" 'Song' asked. "Who or what are the Deep Ones, anyway? Do you even know?"

"Silence!" The 'Grand Steward' growled. "The Deep Ones are all knowing. Therefore, they know what’s best for us! It is only strategically sound to follow their commands.” A pause. Puppet Song was of course expressionalist, but Luna was guessing he was unvoncinced.

“I see.”

The ‘umbral’ cleared its throat. “Also, they told me to tell you that the NLR is making tacky art!"

"Whaaaaaaat!?" Puppet Song cried. "I shall leave immediately! The Web will be ours in several moons. You have my word."

"Excellent, excellent. Something something something the Deep Ones will be pleased."

The screen froze and the disembodied voice returned. "This has been Horribly Depressing NLR News Presented in Puppet Form to Make it Bearable to Watch! The War Council recommends holding The Web at all costs. Fight onwards, comrades. No gods, no masters!’ The voice coughed, then said in a softer tone: ‘And please stay tuned for Red Moon Media Presents Mr. Pickle’s review of Space Wizards: Episode One, The Ghostly Peril. Bring your pizza rolls!"

The transmission cut, leaving the amused but flabbergasted bridge crew gazing at a rotating, three-dimensional symbol of the NLR: a blood-red rose.

"Sooooo," Derpy said, giving Luna a cheeky smile. "Any way we can do something like that back in Equestria?"

The Dagger in Reach

“Grubber, did I ever tell you how much I love your coffee cakes?” Luna asked, sitting at a cafeteria table - alone - and scarfing down another bunch of them. “Because I really, really love your coffee cakes.”

“Heh, thanks, princess,” Grubber smiled. “Though uh, you know you’re supposed to drink coffee with them, not Earl Hay Tea, right?”

“Perhaps,” Luna said. “Though I believe I’ve drank enough coffee for one lifetime. Besides, I like the flavor.”

“You’re totally not just drinking it because it’s what that captain you like likes, right?” Grubber snarked. “Captain Quick Shard or whatever?”

Luna glanced about, before smirking Grubber’s way. “I believe it may be the source of his diplomatic prowess. I shall unlock the secret.”

Grubber rolled his eyes. “Just keep in mind we don’t have a big stock of it, okay?”

“Perhaps, if all goes well, we can trade with the NLR for something similar,” Luna smiled. “I have high hopes Spike can--”

She paused when she noticed Grubber was no longer listening. Instead, he was turning his attention to the door of the cafeteria. “Uh… hi? Can I get you something?”

Confused, Luna turned to look as well. Though such confusion quickly gave way to intrigue. Peaking shyly into the cafeteria was Crescent Moon’s sister, Waning Moon. As soon as she saw Luna looking back at her, her eyes widened, and she quickly ducked away.

Luna quirked an eyebrow, before calling: “You may come in if you wish. This cafeteria is open to all.”

Slowly and nervously, Waning Moon peeked her head back in, before cautiously making her way in. Avoiding looking at Luna, she made her way to the cafeteria food bar.

“Hey, I’m Grubber, by the way,” the hedgehog said warmly. “Glad to see another new face around here. Grab whatever you want. Though if you want me to whip ya’ up something, that’s cool, too.”

Smiling politely at the hedgehog, she reached over to grab a small fruit cup, then glanced about the room, as if looking for a table.

“Come and join me,” Luna invited, gesturing to the seat across the table. “Dr. Waning Moon, yes?”

She froze for a second, glancing at the seat. Swallowing hard, she nodded Luna’s way then made her way over.

‘I wonder why she’s so nervous around me?’ Luna wondered. 'None of the others are like that. The exact opposite, in fact.’

Waning Moon sat. She then used one of her fangs to pierce the wrapper of the fruit cup, before ripping the rest open. Slowly, continuing to avoid Luna’s eyes, she lifted it and drank some of the contents, her eyes widening in delight afterwards. In less than a few seconds, she swallowed the rest of it, smacking her lips afterwards.

Luna blinked. She looked away from her, not wanting to be rude.

“Don’t get actual fruit often, do ya’?” Grubber chuckled.

Waning looked towards him, shaking her head.

“Huh?” Luna asked.

“Yeah, I talked with a few others from their crew,” Grubber said. “Waning and friends here mainly eat some kind of algae paste. Easier to store or something like that. Only time they get anything better is at big stations like Firefall.”

Waning nodded.

“Feel free to dig into some more, then,” Luna smiled. “Friends still share, no matter their... differing ideologies.”

Waning beamed a look of thanks at Luna. It didn’t take her long to grab another cup and sit back down.

“So… how are your patients doing?” Luna asked.

Crescent paused, before slowly making a series of arm movements towards Luna.

“Ah, Old Equestrian sign language,” Luna nodded. “My apologies - I am a bit rusty. Are you saying they’re… they’re stable?”

Waning nodded.

“I am glad to hear that,” Luna said. “Though you’re certain you don’t wish to transport them over to Firefall? Our facilities must be antiquated in comparison.”

Waning shook her head, before signing: “Older but more diverse. More than adequate. Thank you for letting us use them.”

“Our pleasure,” Luna said. “It’s just a shame they have to be used in the first place.”

Waning sighed inaudibly. “Unfortunately, this is the usual outcome after a fight with the Empire.” Luna nodded in understanding, not exactly knowing what to say to that. Waning paused a second as well, before signing once more: “May I ask you something, princess?"

“Please, just Luna is fine,” Luna said.

“My apologies,” she said. "My question may be a bit blunt… Please do not take offense."

“No worries,” Luna said. “What do you wish to ask?”

She seemed hesitant once more, before slowly signing: “Many of my people say you did nothing for thestrals. That Nightmare Moon was the only one to raise a hoof. Yet… others say you did everything you could without using violence.”

Luna glanced at her curiously. It appeared Doctor Whooves was correct; time had twisted their perception of the past. Wanting to pick the thestral doctor’s mind a little, she answered with another question: “What do you believe?”

“I believe the latter,” she said. “I always have, but seeing you in the flesh... You seem kind and wise and wholesome. I just wish the others would see it that way.” She frowned sorrowfully. “Please, don’t hold it against them.”

Luna had to admit: she was a bit shocked at this. The sister of Crescent Moon, who didn’t seem to want anything to do with her, was worried about Luna’s opinion on them?

“I…” Luna said, swallowing hard, and feeling a warmth rising in her. “No, I don’t hold it against them. The only person I hold something against is myself. I should have done more all those years ago. I’m sorry.”

“Uh…” Grubber called, raising an eyebrow at the scene.“What’s going on?”

Luna and Waning glanced at each other, as if both had forgotten someone else was in the room. They quickly chuckled, the former replying with: “Just a little heart to heart.”

"Captain, Tempest requests your presence in the brig,” the computer suddenly squawked, interrupting the two. “The Steward wishes to speak with you."

Luna sighed, annoyed that this conversation was ending so soon. ’Right when I was making a connection, she wants to talk.’

Even though the Steward hadn't asked for her since their meeting a week ago, Luna still wasn't surprised that she had asked for her. It was only a matter of time before she realized Luna was not desperate for information.

"Can you ask Tempest what the Steward wants?" Luna asked.

"Stand by."

"I am not standing," Luna smiled, gesturing at her seat, and earning a silent chuckle from Waning. "I am in fact sitting."

"..."

"Nevermind."

A few seconds later, the computer chimed in again: "The Steward wishes to speak about ‘your new friends. And your old one.’"

And there went any hope of Luna enjoying the rest of her day.

***

"I don't know what friends you speak of," Luna said to the Steward, trying her best to keep coy. She stood before her in the brig, the energy sheet flickering between the two. "We are as alone out here as we've ever been. Do you know something we do not?"

The Steward chuckled, her glowing smile turning into a smirk. "Nice try. Lying isn't in your nature, is it? You are someone who values action over deceit; at least from what I’ve seen."

“I’m still at a loss,” Luna said.

The Steward’s tone grew serious.. "I know you've met the NLR. I know you've met Song. Even now, the former's stench wavers through your corridors. Unwashed, uncleansed. And as for Song… his subharmonic transmission wasn't so 'subharmonic' to everyone. Being merged with an umbral has benefits you could only dream of."

“Merged?” Luna said, glancing at her pensively. “So, you weren’t always as you are. These ‘umbral’... they can exist as separate entities, yes?”

“In a sense,” she said. “If you want to learn more, drop the games. Let’s talk candidly.”

Luna gave her a blank look. "Very well. Though what is it you want? Because my original stance stands: there will be no parley."

"I no longer desire information," the Steward said bluntly. "Though I do desire to live."

Luna raised an eyebrow. "We have no plans for an execution. Equestrians do not believe in capital punishment."

"It is not you whom I'm worried about," the Steward said. "It's the traitors. They will try to extradite me, you know. Especially since one of them… one of them has a very familiar stench."

"Who?" Luna asked.

"A traitor spawned from a another traitor," she said. "You learned about what transpired aboard my ship via an engineer's logs, yes? That engineer had a name: Quarter Moon…"

A sudden jolt of dread washed through Luna. 'Oh no.'

The Steward glanced away from her. "And that engineer also had… a daughter.”

“... So my thoughts are that if we flash the code relating to their internal systems and sodder what’s left with our own - modified to account for antiquity - it should let them get back to back to normal without any problems. We will also keep their computer’s memory intact for the most part… well, what’s left of it. Still not sure what’s going on there.”

Crescent, Strong Voice, and a Broiler, sat around a round table in a small meeting room aboard Firefall Station.

“I think that could work,” Broiler nodded at Crescent, pushing her spectacles up towards her eyes. “Obviously, though, we’ll need specs on every last system to adjust.”

Crescent smiled. Despite being a nervous wreck on her bridge, Broiler was actually the most competent computer technician on the station. She just needed a cool head to do her job effectively. And since she now had one, if she said it would work, then it would work.

“Hopefully those aren't corrupted,” Crescent nodded. “If not, I’ll have’ta dig into their guts - the service marks should still be there. One thing the Empire’s good at, it’s labellin’.”

Strong, however, didn't seem to be interested in the conversation. Instead, she simply occasionally nodded along, lost in her own thoughts. Finally, near the tail end of it, she finally blurted out: "Crescent. What would you say the combat capabilities of that ship are?"

Crescent gave her an annoyed look. "What? That's not what we're chattin’ about. Were ya' even paying attention!?"

"That's not my field of expertise," Strong said. "Just humor me, okay?"

Crescent rolled her eyes. "Fine, ya bloody gun wank. It has two 300 meter long slash two meter diameter Magnetic Shard Accelerator cannons as its primary armament. Even for how old the bloomin' thing is, those pups could rip through the armor of anything even the UFP have."

"And the Empire has, I'd imagine," Strong pondered.

Crescent gazed at her uneasily. "Aye."

“Crescent Moon…” Luna gasped. “… How could I have not seen it?!”

"Her father was furious with her when she joined the NLR," the Steward told Luna matter of factly. “His loyalty to the Deep Ones remained pure. I remember feeling… proud of him. I spoke with him many times in private, allowing him to vent his grief." She gazed away from Luna. "His daughter hated him for staying, yet family is important to threstrals above all else. If she were to figure out what happened, she would move void and star to bring me to trial.”

Luna gazed at her with spite. "Wouldn’t she have a right to? Wouldn't they all? I've seen the crimes you've committed against your own people. I can only imagine what you've done to your enemy."

The Steward cocked her head. "In war, I’ve done no worse than they have to us. And aboard the Singularity’s Ascent, I acted in self-defense. Is that worthy of the death penalty they will surely sentence me?"

“I do not believe they would go so far,” Luna said, softening her tone slightly. "But I will ask for assurances that that will not transpire, nonetheless."

The Steward laughed bitterly. "And you think they'll honor them? I did not expect such naivety from you, Star Speaker, especially from one who has fought in wars before. You've seen what just a few cycles of them can do to creatures. Imagine a war fought for centuries? Desperate times can lead many down paths that strip away the tender skin of morality and ethics, leaving only a bitter core."

"Enough," Luna said. "I have already had enough cynicism for a dozen lifetimes. I will not allow you to turn me against potential friends. Against my Children of the Night."

The Steward growled angrily, jutting forward in her cell, her face practically kissing the forcefield. It was right before Luna's own. Despite being unnerved, Luna didn't flinch.

"I am not manipulating you, princess," she hissed. "I am trying to save you from your own stupidity - and in turn, myself! Tell me, other than what they told you: do you truly know anything about those whom you've allowed to parade about this ship? What they might be capable of!?"

Luna glanced away from her, remaining silent.

"... And so, once we're done with repairing their computer, we're just going to allow that kind of firepower to… walk away?" Strong asked.

"I really don't like what you're implying here," Crescent said, gazing at her suspiciously.

Broiler gulped nervously. "Should I uh… should I leave?"

Strong ignored her, now staring down at Crescent. "I'm implying that that ship could turn the tide of this war. Implying that we could actually go on the offensive for once. How much territory have we lost in just the last few cycles? Two supply systems and half The Web, the latter of which is looking worse and worse now that Song’s here."

Crescent shook her head. "I don't think they're interested in fighting our battles."

Strong gazed at her pensively. "That… isn't what I'm talking about."

"Stop right there, then," Crescent snapped. "I've been tryin' to give ya the benefit of the doubt here, but--"

"But you'll continue to entertain the idea of leaving an Oblivion Superdreadnought in the hooves of backwards primitives?"

Crescent glared at her. "Primitives? What are ya' blatherin' about?"

"From what you've described, those who control it are as archaic in ideology as technology," Strong growled.

"Well, yeah," Crescent coughed. "Honestly, I wasn’t thrilled about em’ at first, either. But calling em' bad people is outa line. They aren't the Empire. Sure, they still have hierarchies, but that’s the only thing in common with em’ that I can see.”

“For now,” Strong said. “But what do you think they’d do with such a weapon once they return to Equis? Assuming they’re who they say they are, of course. ‘Captain Luna’ could use it to take control of their entire planet! Bring it directly under her hoof.”

Crescent raised an eyebrow. “Even the Empire doesn’t want ta’ try messing with Equis with their big honkin’ fleet. What luck would she have with a single ship? As tough as it might be?”

“S-She has a point, you know,” Broiler nodded nervously.

“It would still give her and her home nation a significant advantage over the others,” Strong pointed out. “Tell me, Crescent: you’ve spent the most time with them so far. Do you truly believe they won’t abuse such power?”

Crescent swallowed hard. If there ever was a more biting question…

The Steward spoke onward. “Our fleet currently engaging them, the Fleet of Cleansing Fire, outnumbers their own two to one, and it’s being led by Grand Admiral Warp Song, whose abilities I believe you’re familiar with. And that is but a mere faction of our overall forces. If they were not currently keeping a worthier foe at bay, we would have destroyed them and the other dissident rabble long ago.”

Luna glanced at her worriedly. “What other foe would that be?”

“That doesn’t matter,” the Steward growled. “What matters is the NLR is desperate. And they are angry. Enough to do more than just execute me. It would be oh so easy for them to seize this vessel, you know. They know far more about starships than you do.”

Luna gulped. Pharynx and Tempest had just brought up a similar point. An enemy and two friends were telling her the same thing...

The Steward carried on. “Don’t let their self-righteous babble of a heirarchless democracy fool you; the will of the ignorant, profligate masses can lead to the desecration of everything it touches just as easily as a foolish king.”

“Oh, and your rule is so much better for the masses?” Luna laughed.

“The Deep Ones holy vision is pure in its intent,” the Steward said hypnotically. “Their knowledge is so vast that straying from their will is pure selfishness. The acts they order that you consider ‘evil’ always have an ulterior, altruistic purpose. They know what’s best for us, the average creature does not.” She cocked her head slightly. “Even Star Speakers... the very stars themselves are bacteria compared to them. A blink in the eye of the cosmos. After everything else within it crumbles to dust, they shall live on. All that you see in this universe shall be outlasted by those you cannot. Chaos through order, order through chaos!”

“More and more does your entire Empire sound more like a cult than a star nation,” Luna spat. “Yet I did not come here to listen to a sermon.”

“You were the one who brought up the subject!” the Steward growled. “By insulting the rule of the Deep Ones!”

Luna closed her eyes. “Yes, and I... regret that, but we had nothing else to speak of. E-Everything you’ve presented about the NLR is based off speculation and assumptions, further tainted by your obvious hatred for them. And this is on the off chance you aren’t simply lying about their capabilities.”

“Ask them yourself then!” the Steward laughed. “Ask them how good they believe their chances are against us!” She cast one of her trademark wicked grins. “Ask them… before it’s too late.”

“Before we bat this around any further,” Crescent said, narrowing her eyes. “We’re askin’ the War Council what they think. This is bigger than just us, after all. But I’ll tell ya’ right now that I do not like this one bit. We do somethin’ like it and we’ve crossed a line. Even if I didn’t already make a deal with em’, this would still make me sick to me stomach.”

“But you’re still willing to consider it?” Strong said, smiling slightly.

“I just got me ship blown up!” Crescent hissed. “And kicked out of the captain’s chair for good measure. I’d do almost anything to have a ship like the Starshot under our control. To plow through the Empire like a starvin’ dragon through a gem pile.Blastin’ their fleets into bits and the bits into tinier bits! Just like they have to ours! Almost.”

“J-Just wanted to say, I voted to keep you as captain,” Broiler squeaked.

“Appreciated, lass,” Crescent sighed.

“Nocreature likes a hoof licker,” Strong said, shooting an annoyed look at Broiler. “But alright. We’ll get a second opinion. Just do me a favor: try not to get cozier with the Gardeners. You wouldn’t want sentimentality to get in the way of what is to be done, would you?”

“Mph,” Crescent said, glancing away from her. “We’ll see…”

***

Unbeknownst to them, their conversation wasn't entirely private. Having stealthily snuck aboard the station by posing as members of Crescent’s crew, Ocellus and Pharynx had followed them, a skeptical look held in the latter’s eyes. After that, it was a simple matter of Pharynx transforming into a Diamond Dog: his large, fluffy ears now allowing him to easily hear the conversation from a distance. As he did, Ocellus glanced around warily, keeping watch in her threstral form.

Needless to say, when it was over, Pharynx was… displeased. Transforming back into a threstral, he looked towards a worried looking Ocellus, before simply shaking his head. She bowed her own, disappointed, before the two made their way back to the Sharshot.

Big Blue

“Primary transmitter online annnnnd… here we go, lil’ dude,” Snoopy grinned.

The two of them stood in the communications center of Firefall Station, Snoopy operating one of the larger consoles that sat underneath an even larger viewscreen. One that dwarfed even the bridge of the Starshot’s.

“So… now what?” Spike asked.

“We sent a ping out to Big Blue,” Snoopy said. “If he’s available, he’ll call to chat any sec now.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “I mean, that’s great and all, but why couldn’t we do this on the Starshot again?”

“Starshot doesn’t have the codes to tap into that part of our relay network, dog,” Snoopy said. “And we ain’t cool enough yet to start pawing those out. Sorry.” He then smirked slightly. “Could change if Big Blue likes you, though.”

“Any advice on that?” Spike asked.

“Don’t be a dick,” Snoopy chuckled. “Really about it. Pretty damned hard to piss him off.” Snoopy tapped his chin for a second, before giving Spike a coy look. “Oh, and did I mention he’s from Equis?”

Spike did a double take. “Wah?”

Before he could ask anything further, a beeping sound came from the console. “That’s him. Bringin’ him on screen.”

Spike raised a claw. “Wait a minute, what about--”

Snoopy tapped a few more buttons on the console, and suddenly, a surprisingly short, blue hedgehog appeared on screen. He looked a little bit like Grubber in body shape, though with much longer quills stretching from the back of his head. He seemed to be in a ship of sorts, though the bridge looked much smaller than anything Spike had seen so far. Much more like the cockpit of one of the Starshot’s dropships. He appeared to be the only one there.

“Ugh, what is it now?” he growled. “Can’t you plebs ever leave me alone?!”

Spike blinked. This was their diplomatic guru?

Snoopy gave him a blank look. “Really?”

Suddenly, the hedgehog pulled a one-eighty, laughing heartily. “Sorry, just wanted to switch things up for once. Keep you all on your toes.”

Spike sighed in relief. At least he wouldn’t be dealing with someone like Strong Voice. Though he did notice Big Blue had a very fast manner of speaking. If he wasn’t used to Twilight doing the same thing at times, it would be hard to keep up with him.

“Afraid I haven’t had the pleasure,” Big Blue continued. “What’s your name, comrade?”

“Captain Snoopy of the Tyrant’s End,” he said formally. “Newly elected. Shame the title didn’t come with the ship, though.”

Big Blue raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t sound good.”

“Naw,” Snoopy said, shaking his head. “We ran into Grand Admiral Warp Song while trying to grab some Star Shed at HG-23. Kicked our butts across the system and back. Crippled our ship. We had to leave it drifting.”

“Warp Song, eh?” Big Blue nodded. “Hasn’t been any signs of him for a while. Thought the Empire had that stick in the mud dealing with the UFP?”

“Bit behind on the news there, man,” Snoopy said. “We think he’s taken command of the campaign against us.”

“I gotta keep up with the news broadcasts,” Big Blue said. “Been less depressing now that they’re doing the puppet thing. Sorry to hear about your ship..”

“Yeah… she was a piece of junk, but she was our piece of junk,” Snoopy sighed. “Might still be salvageable, though. And luckily, everyone got off alright.”

“Good,” Big Blue smiled. “You can rebuild a ship - make it a spitting image of what was lost. But you can never do that with people. Got too many experiences up in the ole noggins, ya’ know?”

“Word,” Snoopy said, nodding.

Big Blue cleared his throat. “Anyway, after listening to my pseudo-intellectual ramblings, least I can do is ask: can I help with anything?”

“Diplomacy, actually,” Snoopy said. “When we got crippled, we ran into some new frends. Saved our bacon. Dunno how new they are to you, though. See uh, these dudes ain’t from around here. Like, really, really not. You get me?”

Big Blue gazed at him quizically, then at Spike. “Kind of vague there, man.”

For whatever reason, his sight practically triggered a eureka for Spike. ‘Blue hedgehog, chaotic good, from Equis, wait a minute…”

“You!” Spike suddenly cried. “You’re Sonic Flash, aren’t you?! The speedy hedgehog guy!”

Big Blue’s eyes widened. He looked off-guard for a brief few seconds, but then slowly, but surely, a smile came to his face. “Sonic Flash…” he chuckled. “Now that is a name I haven’t heard for a long time. And more importantly, most others haven’t heard for even longer. And that means...” His smile grew wider. “How’s ole Equis these days?”

“Hah! I knew it!” Spike grinned. “Man oh man, I bet Luna’s going to be surprised to see you! How did you even--”

“Woah, woah, time out,” Flash said, shocked once more. “Luna’s with you?

Snoopy gazed between the two of them, bemused but confused. “Uh, so, I’m a little out of the loop here and…”

“Sorry, Snoopy, don’t mean to sideline ya’,” Big Blue nodded. “Just woah… Princess Luna. Hah! Surprises on top of surprises. You know what? Hang on, I’m flyin’ over. Firefall Station, right?”

“Well, yeah, but…” Snoopy gazed at him worriedly. “Big Blue, I dunno if that’s a good idea. We’re right next to the front lines. Well, if you count a few lightyears away as ‘right next to’.”

“Pffft, no big deal,” Big Blue laughed. “Been exploring lately. Solo exploring. This’ll be a vacation compared to that. Heck, just ran into a Star Dragon in the last system. Love a good chase, but that was almost too close.”

Spike raised his eyebrows. “A wah?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there soon,” Big Blue winked. “Can talk about it there. I can’t wait! What’s your name by the way, dude?”

“Spike.”

“Well, Spike, pleased to meet you,” he grinned. “Can you and Snoopy do me a solid and send over an info package? Let me know what’s going on? I wanna hit hyperspace ASAP. Gotta go fast!”

Spike gazed at him with wonder. “Hey, you said the thing!”

Big Blue looked at him, confused. “What thing?”

“Uh, nevermind,” Spike said.

“We can shoot you over one,” Snoopy nodded. “Station already has their story documented.”

“Awesome,” Big Blue beamed. “I’ll be there before you can say ‘no gods, no masters!’ Peace!”

The screen flicked off, leaving both Snoopy and Spike standing there, dumbfounded. They glanced at each other, then back at the black screen, then back at each other.

“So, I think he likes you,” Snoopy finally said. “Which means we might be workin’ together after all.”

“Yeah…” Spike said, smiling slightly. “Just surprising how easy it was. Thanks for taking time to do this, by the way. You know, you’re pretty much a one-eighty from the Diamond Dogs I’ve met before.”

Snoopy gave him a sarcastic look. “What, you think all Diamond Dogs act the same or something?”

Spike felt panic rising in him. He quickly shook his head. “Well, no, just--” He sighed. “Well, alright. I guess I implied it a little. Sorry, it was a dickheaded thing to say. Just kind of used to different species on my planet having following certain… what’s the word? Tropes? Like for instance, my people: dragons. They’re kind of sort of… not very nice. Or, at least they weren’t..”

Snoopy smiled slightly. “Oh, and what happened?”

“It’s um, complicated,” Spike said. “Guess there was kind of a… cultural shift? Though then again… some of the dragons who I thought weren’t very nice turned out to be better than they appeared. Maybe they just needed well… permission, to be their real selves? Maybe it was less of a cultural shift and more like a cultural… awakening?”

“So like you said,,” Snoopy chuckled. “They’re ‘complicated’. I like that word. ‘Complicated’. That’s nations, cultures, hell, sapient life in general, lil’ dude. And I’m glad you’re already on the road to figurin’ it out.”

“Just ‘challenging my pre-conceptions’ a little,” Spike grinned.

“Hah!” Snoopy beamed. “Good callback. Come on, let’s get some food. Station’s cook can whip up a gem pie I know dragons dig.”

“B-But I need to tell Luna about…”

Snoopy’s smirk widened. “Ain’t no rush. Celebrations first, business later, right? Big Blue knowin’ your captain may have helped a bit, but you still made this all happen. And after all: no gods, no masters.”

Smike thought for a second, then nodded. “Well… it has been a while since I had a good gem pie. But we make it to go, okay?”

“That’s the spirit!” Snoopy laughed, slapping him heartily on the back.

The latter couldn’t help but smile. That was two big wins in less than two days. Yet still, it made him alll the more frustrated with the nagging thought on the back of his mind. One that was saying something was wrong. Why was that? He may have put on a snarky demeanor, but he wasn’t usually a half is glass full kind of dragon; optimism usually prevailed.

Perhaps he was just becoming jaded. Or perhaps there was something more. Time would tell.

…

Twenty light years away, a triangular ship similar to the Starshot, the Chimera, fired another salvo from its twin MSA cannons. It wasn’t met with much fanfare - the nature of the weapon yielded no muzzle flashes, though the projectiles themselves glowed a bright blue.

On the bridge of the vessel, Grand Admiral Warp Song watched them with intrigue as they sailed into the darkness of space, curved slightly, then struck the portside of another ship. It was one almost identical to his, only with artwork plastered about its hull. One in particular had caught Song’s eye earlier in the battle: an impressionist painting of a massive, pink dragon. One who held the familiar scepter of a dragon lord.

Unfortunately, it along with the rest of the ship it was on were quickly no more, as the twin projectiles had ripped right through a critical portion of the latter. This triggered thundering secondary explosions, which quickly ripped the entire thing to pieces. The only sign of the once impressive painting was a pink-coated piece of debris flying off into the distance.

Despite the spectacle, its destruction wasn’t the prize of this particular battle. That would be the three, rotating space habitats it should have been guarding. Habitats that made up one of the thousands orbiting the Red Dwarf star of this particular system, The Web.

Despite having no habitable planets, this was one of the most populated systems on this side of the galaxy. And now, another small fraction of it belonged to the Oblivion Empire. Something that wouldn’t have happened if the ship in question hadn’t broken ranks with its two lighter escorts.

“Another flawless sortie,” Song’s aide, an amorphous blob-like being, whispered via three of its many orifices. Their dissonance made them sound as if they came from a trio of lonely ghosts. “Without a single scratch on the Chimera. The Deep Ones will be pleased.”

“That is all I wish for, Gilad,” Song said coolly. It wasn’t usual for a shog to give praise, let alone one merged with an umbral, but results were results, and Song wasn’t one to leave the Deep Ones wanting.

“Questions still linger, however,” Gilad said. “How did you know the enemy cruiser would break formation?”

“Their hull artwork gave a hint to their crew’s disposition,” Song noted. “A depiction of the ancient Dragon Lord, Scales. One still praised by her kin in songs and story for her ruthless, opportunistic nature. Faking a weapons malfunction wouldn’t fool everyone, but letting them believe we were hapless prey was all it took. I made it seem as if there was blood in the water, and they simply couldn’t help themselves.”

“Using their own aggression against them,” Gilad said.

“And their lack of uniformity,” Song noted, gazing at one of his monitors. “Though perhaps that isn’t completely to their disadvantage. Their two remaining vessels are now retreating.’”

“Cowards,” Gilad hissed.

“No,” Song said, shaking his head. “They are making the best of a bad situation. Without their cruiser, their two frigates know they cannot hope to defeat us. So they’re choosing to turn this from a total defeat to a minor one. They’re living to fight another day.”

“Yet they’ve given up thousands of souls!” Gilad growled. “At least the cruiser died with honor.”

“There is a fine line between honor and pointless sacrifice,” Song said calmly. “Something I shall teach you in time, Gilad. And as for their ideology: like I was saying, their retreat may not have been possible without a lack of uniformity. Suppose they had a singular commander who leaned more towards an ‘honorable’ disposition? This battle may have ended far worse for them.”

Gilad pulsed slightly, his form expanding and contracting a few times. Song knew that this was a sign of agitation. Nonetheless, eventually, the creature calmed itself. “As you say, Grand Admiral.”

“Good,” Song nodded. “Now, let’s draw closer to the habitats. Hopefully they will choose to surrender. I would rather not expend troops on another ‘ground’ fight.” He then licked his lips, his vampiric fangs showing for a second. “Or any sustenance. It has been a long while since I’ve fed… Prepare to send--”

“Admiral, more pressing matters demand your attention: we’re receiving a data package from our spy probe,” Gilad stated, a pair of tendrils extending from its form looking over its monitor, two eyes at the end of it.

“Very well,” Song said, though with a hint of reluctance in his tone. “Please give me a summary of the contents.”

“It appears things played out exactly as you expected. ‘Captain Luna’ rescued the crew from the Tyrant’s End, and it appears that said crew figured out a way around the Starshot’s lockdowns.”

“A testament to Captain Crescent Moon’s talents,” Song said, smiling. “Making the necessary ‘repairs’ would not have been easy. There was once a time when I wished to make her my flagship’s chief engineer, you know. I make it a point to keep track of rising talent. What a shame such it is now being wasted in the NLR.”

“If you were anyone else, I would question your admiration for her, Grand Admiral,” Gilad grumbled. “She is a heretic.”

“Oh, believe me, this hasn’t escaped my notice,” Song said. “It is, after all, why we are here. The rest of the contents?”

“It appears the probe remained completely undetected during the whole affair,” Gilad continued to read. “And was able to successfully calculate the trajectory of the Starshot when it left the system. The probe pursued, as was programmed.” Gilad paused. “Mmm… it appears the Starshot dropped out of hyperspace at several points in interstellar space.”

“Standard NLR protocol,” Song nodded. “To out pursuers. It’s easier to detect anyone following them without interference from stellar bodies. Crescent, or more likely, whoever took her place as captain after the affair, must have advised Luna on this.”

“You believe she was demoted?” Gilad asked.

“Almost certainly,” Song said. “She’s a talented engineer, but her captaining skills were… lacking. Her actions during our sortie were even more reckless than that of the cruiser’s we’ve just destroyed. Criticism of and distrust of authority is encouraged in the NLR, and every one of their crews is capable of doing a ‘people’s demotion’. I doubt Crescent escaped such a lashing.”

“A heretic among heretics,” Gilad said, amused. “Fitting.”

“Indeed,” Song said. “Now, what is the next part of our little probe’s tale? I’m assuming it was never discovered.”

“The probe continued to remain undetected even in interstellar space,” Gilad continued.

“As I suspected,” Song nodded. “The Starshot’s somewhat antiquated sensors were not able to find the newer model. Thus, it was able to follow the Starshot to its final destination… which was…?”

Gilad’s tone was almost palpable when he announced: “Firefall Station.”

Song narrowed his eyes. “Ah, the mythical forward operating base for the NLR in this sector. Destroying it would neuter their operations for light years upon light years. It was risky for the NLR to bring an unknown party to such a place. I wonder why they would do such a thing?”

“They’ve been arrogant so far,” Gilad noted. “Perhaps this is just another extension of it.”

“Perhaps,” Song admitted, tapping his hooves together in thought. “Have flotillas five and six rendezvous with us at our current position. Have the rest of the fleet enter a defensive stance - lock down our gains and stand by.”

“You plan to sail to Firefall?” Gilad asked eagerly.

“Yes,” Song said, now gazing at his monitor, a diagram of the cylindrical station upon it. “Though first, I wish to study the station to find out exactly what it’s capable of.”

“What? Why waste time with that?” Gilad growled. “It is a communication station, is it not? It’s unlikely to have anything that could stand against us.”.

“As I’ve told you time and time again, Gilad: to defeat one’s enemy, you must know them,” Song said. “I have a theory. A theory that if correct could make attacking it may be an even greater boon to us than we could ever imagine. One which could send ripples of despair through the entire NLR…”

He sat back in his chair, clasping his hooves and leaning his chin upon them in deep thought.

“Hmph. How drastic my perspective has shifted,” he mused, more to himself than anyone. “Catching him before would have been meaningless to the bigger picture. But capturing him now…"

"Grand Admiral?" Gilad questioned.

"Just reminiscing, Gilad," Song said. "On how a defeat, both in war and life in general, are often merely preludes to a far greater victory."

1200 Years Prior

Across the wide, open plains beneath the shadow of Canterlot, a trail of dust was kicked into the air. Its origin was obscured by it, but it appeared to be running at incredible speeds; faster than even most pegasi could reach. Luna watched the sight from a distant hill through a telescope, a look of satisfaction on her face. After a moment, she set down the device, before turning towards her companion, Grand Admiral Warp Song.

“He’s heading right into the trap,” Luna said. “Just like you said he would.”

“Like a true personification of speed, he is prone to taking the shortest route,” Song said, stoically as always. “He has tread upon nearly the exact same path from Canterlot to Everfree over three times now. His precision is almost supernatural.”

“Thank you again for your help in this matter, Grand Admiral,” Luna smiled. “I’m impressed by how quickly you’ve regained your footing: it has been many moons since your Night Guard days, yes?”

“Too many,” he nodded. “Though thanks are not needed. I am honored that you came to me personally for this.”

At that, Luna picked up her telescope and gazed at the high-speed dustball once more.

Song began to count. “Three, two, one…”

Suddenly, the dustball halted before beginning to dissipate. A large, deep hole in the ground appeared where it once was.

“Huzzah!” Luna cheered, setting her telescope down and clapping her hooves. “We’ve got him!”

“Indeed?” Song said, uncertainty in his tone. “Very well. Let’s not keep such a free spirit waiting. With your permission, princess, let us have a talk with this ‘Sonic Flash’.”

***

“You gotta be friggin’ kidding me,” the hyperactive blue hedgehog growled, desperately trying to free his shoe’d feet from the hardened goop he was stuck in. Luna, in the meantime, was levitatated both him and the goop out of the hole, before setting them before her and Song. “Gak? You made a bunch of Gak Gloop just to stop me?! Who are you, King Sombra!?”

“I don’t understand that reference,” Song said solemnly.

“Neither do I,” Luna said, raising an eyebrow, before taking a step before Sonic, looming over him. “What I do know is you’ve stolen many items from the Royal Vaults, Sonic Flash. Including several shards of the dangerous substance known as Tiberiun.”

“That’s not it’s actual name, you know,” he grumbled.

Luna sighed. “Flash, we’ve played this game many times now…”

“And I thought we had a deal,” he spat. “I trusted you!”

“Not anymore!” Luna growled. “You’ve gone too far, this time! Stealing trinkets is one thing, stealing powerful magical materials is another!”

“What sort of deal have you struck?” Song said, raising his eyebrows.

“None of your business,” the hedgehog snapped.

“Sonic!” Luna hissed, before turning back towards Song. “Can I trust you to be discreet, Grand Admiral?”

“I will follow orders to forget anything said here, if you so desire.”

Luna took a deep breath. “Very well. You’d probably figure it out for yourself eventually. The truth is I’ve been… looking the other way when it comes to Flash for quite a while now.”

Luna half expected for Song to look disappointed. Instead, he seemed more curious than anything.

“You already know why, don’t you?” Luna said, almost in an annoyed tone.

Song shrugged. “I know a… limited amount. You stated you approved his theft of various trinkets. None of which held much in the way of practical value, from what I recall, other than their obvious worth. Given the wealth that comes with someone in your position, I assume letting him do so wasn’t for any sort of personal gain on your part. But why allow this hedgehog to enrich himself?”

“Because I wasn’t ‘enriching myself’,” Flash said, narrowing his eyes. “I’ve been giving the money to those who need it! Those who Equestria turned their backs on! Or at least Celestia has. And the ironic thing is, some of them looked like you.”

He pointed at Song. His expression remained completely stoic.

“And I was fine with allowing this until you broke my trust,” Luna grunted. “I thought I made it perfectly clear the first time I caught you that you were not to steal anything that could be dangerous in the wrong hooves!”

“I swear to you, Luna, that’s not what’s going on here,” Sonic said. “The Tiberiun’s not for anyone dangerous. And trust me, we owe him this much.”

“Owe whom that much?” Luna asked.

“It would take too long to explain,” Sonic grunted, wiggling frantically to escape the gak. “He needs it sooner than later. They're coming back!”

Song raised an eyebrow at the last part, though Luna was more focused on Flash's escape attempts to pay it much mind.

“You’re not getting out of there, Sonic,” Luna said. “Be still.” She began charging her horn with magical energies, her inner voice whispering the ancient incantation for a stun spell. However, before she could fire it--

"Sorry princess, not my style!" Flash proclaimed. And with one last burst of speed, he managed to shred his lower half of the now-hardened goop.

"Stop!" Luna shouted, firing a blue stunning beam at him.

Despite the incredible speed of the magical bolt, it was not fast enough to catch him. By the time the energies swirling about Luna’s horn dissipated, the hedgehog had zipped off into the distance, leaving both herself and the Grand Admiral standing in stunned silence.

It was the Grand Admiral who finally broke it. "My apologies, princess. I should have requested a stronger adhesive. I clearly underestimated his abilities."

"You and me both," Luna sighed. "Though credit where it's due: this is the closest anyone's come to catching him. Perhaps next time--"

"Unfortunately, there may not be a next time," Song interrupted.. "His behavioral profile shows him to be arrogant, but not suicidally so. He will likely lay low for some time."

Luna reluctantly nodded. "You are correct. I suppose for now we can only hope whoever the Tiberiun is intended for is a friend, not a foe."

No Gods

"Pharynx! What in the name of Tartarus were you thinking!?" Luna roared, actually taking the stern changeling aback somewhat. An occasion almost worthy of celebration if she wasn’t so furious. "Do you have any clue how dangerous that was!? Not just for relations, but for both you and your niece!?"

She pointed at Ocellus, who simpered.

Pharynx took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "I apologize for going behind your back, but I didn't think you would allow such a mission otherwise."

"You're damned right I wouldn't!" Luna snapped.

"However, wouldn't you say it was worth it?" Pharynx countered. "We now know the NLR is plotting against us!"

Luna was about to launch another wave of shouts at him, when she paused, his words fully absorbed. "Yes, I am," she said, trying to cool her temper. "But I would have preferred to find out in a less risky way."

"I was once the best infiltrator in the Changeling Empire," Pharynx said. "For cycles, I impersonated high ranking officials of multiple nations, including your own. Never once did they suspect a thing.” His eyes seemed to twinkle for a moment. “Never once did you suspect a thing, I should add. Trust me when I say this: there was no risk."

“Never did I suspect anything?” Luna asked pensively.

“Didn’t read Section 65 of the Neo Changeling - Equestrian treaty? The one about full disclosure?”

“I did not,” Luna stated. “My sister handled those particular negotiations.”

“Nevermind, then,” Pharynx sighed.

“Quit trying to obfuscate!” Luna growled. "Your dubious history aside, you still went behind my back. And for that, I am placing you on probation for a month. Any more activities such as this and you shall be removed from duty."

"Captain!" Ocellus squeaked.

"Ocellus, no," Pharynx warned. “Do not--”

"Yes, young one?" Luna said, trying to soften the harshness in her tone.

Ocellus swallowed hard. "Uncle Pharynx doesn't deserve to take the full blame."

"Ocellus!" Pharynx snapped.

"Because it was my idea!" she finally cried.

The room stood silent. Luna gazed at her pensively.

"Your idea?" Luna said.

"She's just trying to defend me," Pharynx grunted, shooting his niece a look. "Admirable, but not necessary."

"No, that's not true!" Ocellus argued. "I was the one who wanted to double-check on them!”

“Kid, stop talking right now!” Pharynx ordered.

Ocellus ignored him. “Uncle Pharynx didn't want to do it. But when I told him I'd try on my own, he wouldn't have it. Said I'd need his help."

Luna couldn't help but feel baffled. "B-But… but why? You are a student of Twilight's school. I would have thought trust would be a big part…"

"She did teach us trust," Ocellus said. "But Cozy Glow… after everything she did, she taught mesomething else: trust, but verify."

"I see…" Luna sighed.

"Captain," Pharynx said stiffly. "She's still just a kid. Don't screw her over for this. Especially since I could have stopped her."

Luna closed her eyes. "Fine. No punishments this time. We have graver matters to discuss, anyway. You stated Crescent was not entirely sure of this course of action?"

"Yes," Pharynx said in a neutral tone, though Luna could detect the slightest hint of relief in his voice. "Her facial expressions, her wavering voice… she was deeply conflicted."

Luna smiled slightly. "Then there may still be hope that our relationship can be salvaged."

“Salvaged?” Pharynx chuckled darkly, looking at her skeptically. "We shouldn’t even let her touch the ship until we're sure she won't try anything."

"I agree," Luna nodded. "We won't allow any of them to do so… at least until one of them reveals the truth."

There was a knock on the door to the ready room.

"Come," Luna called.

Spike flew in, an excited grin on his face, and half a slice of gem one in one of his claws. "Luna! You won't believe who's coming to visit! It's--"

He paused, presumably noting the strained look on everypony's faces.

"Alright, what did I miss?"

With a heavy heart, Crescent, with Broiler in tow, boarded the Starshot once more. They did not come unprepared, however, as Broiler was dragging a cart with a large amount of computer hardware behind her. And in her claws was a datapad.

Despite the corridor they were walking down being empty, Crescent still felt she was being watched by judgemental eyes.

"So…" Broiler gulped, glancing about nervously. "Have you made up your mind, yet? Are we doing the thing? The War Council did advise that if we could do it, we should."

Crescent carried on silently, not giving her an answer.

"C-Cus I kind of, um, need to know sooner than later," Broiler pointed out.

Crescent exhaled. "Just… meet me in the Computer Core room. I… need to get me head straight. Don't start until I get there."

"Um… right," Broiler coughed. "Though about that. Which way is the Core room again?"

"I can help with that," a new, stern voice stated.

Around the corner came a scary sight: the scarred figure of Luna's Chief of Security, Tempest Shadow. Her cold eyes bore until Crescent like knives.

"O-Oh, Ms. Shadow," Crescent gulped. "Hello there. Ya’ really live up to yer name, ya know?”

“In what way?” Tempest asked.

“In how sneaky ya’ are! Almost threstral-like!”

Tempest cocked an eyebrow. “I suppose I should be honored.”

“You should be!” Crescent said. “H-How long have you been there?"

Tempest's expression almost forcefully turned neutral. "Only a second. Captain Luna wished for me to meet you. She wasn't sure if you knew the way."

"Oh, well…" Crescent coughed. "Good timing. Broiler could use a guide."

Tempest cocked her head slightly. "And you?"

"I have some personal business to do before I join in," Crescent said, trying to steal her resolve. "If you don't mind."

"Not at all," Tempest said. "Go on. I'll take care of your 'comrade'."

Broiler gave Crescent a wary glance.

"Alrighty," Crescent said, returning the look. "Just try to stay out of trouble until then, okay?"

"Er, right," Broiler coughed, beginning to follow Tempest as she trotted away.

Crescent took a deep breath once they were gone. "Nightmare have mercy. I hate this."

Feeling a tremendous weight on her shoulders, Crescent made her way to the Starshot's sickbay. The doors swung open to reveal a decontamination chamber, surprising Crescent slightly. The Empire wasn't exactly lacking when it came to medical technology, but in terms of prioritizing the wounded, it wasn't high on their list. If the cost of replacing someone was less than healing them, the Empire took the former option.

Shrugging off her momentary surge of hatred for the Empire, she slowly stepped into it.

"Please hold your breath," a robotic voice said.

Crescent complied, and immediately after, a strange mist began to fill the chamber, only to be sucked out a half a minute later. Wondering how dangerous it would have been if she inhaled the stuff, Crescent exited into the medical bay itself.

Of course, this still didn't protect patients from anything inside her. Naturally, her sister was on top of this, represented by a few medical masks hanging from a nearby hook. Close was a paper sign with writing in both Old Equestrian and ‘modern’: For patient and visitor safety, please take a mask.

It was punctuated with a smiley face.

Crescent rolled her eyes before taking one and placing it over her mouth and nose. She then took a moment to glance about the room. This sickbay was much, much larger than that on the Tyrant’s End. It was also decked out with more medical equipment relative to its size than any Oblivion ship she had been on.

In modern times, the Empire treating the more ‘worthy’ species - the umbral, thestrals, and shog - was their primary concern. If ‘lesser’ species were injured they had to treat themselves with first aid kits most of the time. However, it appeared once upon a time, the Empire thought differently. With plenty of (still uncomfortable) beds, IV drips, monitoring devices, and medical supply cabinets, this place could probably have handled a full crew without much of a problem. Granted, some of it was brought over from her old ship, but the majority must have been dusted off (and probably thoroughly sterilized) by Waning.

It was an odd thought: the Empire at one point being less evil than today. Though perhaps they simply had less bodies to throw into their numerous wars back then.

A tap on her shoulder broke her out of her pondering. If it wasn’t for her echo-location letting her subconscious know the familiar signature of her sister was approaching, she would have been shocked. Instead, she simply turned around to meet her smiling face.

“Hey, sis,” Crescent said, trying to keep a neutral tone.

She gave a quick wave, though her smile quickly turned to a pensive look. She must have seen through her facade; something was amiss.

‘Is all well?’ she signed.

“Er…” Crescent coughed. “Well… no… not really.” A thought came to her; one which would allow her to put off the conversation. “Where’s your patients?”

Waning pointed to a more darkly lit part of the room; probably for her patient’s comfort. Sleeping soundly were both a unicorn and a buffalo; bandages covering up whatever wounds they had. Though they did have two devices on their foreheads she hadn’t seen before.

‘I just got done performing minor surgery,’ Waning explained.

“Oh, anesthetics?” Crescent asked.

Waning shook her head, a new smile on her. ‘No, they’re out from…’ She paused, as if figuring out how to sign something. ‘Delta-wave inducers. Rare Oblivion medical tech. Haven’t seen one in many moons. Keeps creatures sleeping sound as long as it's on their foreheads.’

“One of the many neat toys aboard this tug,” Crescent sighed, glancing away from her. “Toys that are gonna go to--”

She paused, leaving the two in awkward silence.

‘Go to waste?’ Waning asked.

“Well… yeah,” Crescent grunted.

‘The Gardeners may very well use this technology on their homeworld,’ Waning argued, before glancing at her sister pensively. ‘Though you believe it would be better used in our hooves, don’t you?’

“How’d you guess?” Crescent asked.

Waning gave a silent chuckle. ‘I’ve thought the same things. That perhaps this ship would do more good in our stewardship. That the Equestrians may indeed not be ready to handle such technology. But Princess Luna…’

“Ugh, not this again,” Crescent groaned. “Look, I get it. She seems okay for a monarch, but she’s no Nightmare Moon.”

“No, she’s better,’ Waning said defiantly.

“What?! That’s a loada crap if I’ve ever heard it!” Crescent growled. “Sure, yeah, Luna tried to help our people, but it was just through lip service. She never had the guts to start a revolution! To really kick things inta’ high gear. Nightmare Moon did!”

“How do you know Nightmare Moon did it out of the kindness of her heart?” Waning asked.

“Oh come on,” Crescent scoffed. “Haven’t you read Blackshirts and Blue? Why would somepony like her be selfish, huh? If ya’ can have success as a revolutionary, ya’ might as well just join the status quo. Easier time gettin’ power there. Ya’ know, like Luna was doing.”

“Nightmare Moon was trying to do something the status quo wouldn’t accept,” Waning countered. “But something that still would have helped her. Most revolutionaries do not have such… abstract goals as ‘eternal night’.”

“Mph.”

“It doesn’t matter, though,” Waning frantically signed. “Nightmare’s gone. Luna’s here now. A piece of our past long lost has returned. Isn’t that alone worth celebrating? Must we really let ideological differences get in the way of friendship?”

“Friendship,” Crescent sighed. “Yeah…”

“Hm?”

“Let me ask you something. If you had the chance ta’… ta’ make this ship our own, would ya’ take it? Like you said, we could do a lot with it… Liberate dozens of systems, save millions o’ lives ...”

Crescent half-expected her sister to give her a verbal (metaphorically) beatdown for even suggesting this, but instead, she just gazed at her quizzically for a moment, before finally answering with:

“Why does it have to be binary?”

Crescent rolled her eyes. “Speak our language, not a computer’s, thank ya’ kindly.”

Waning silently sighed. “Why is the choice between seizing the ship and not getting its help?”

“What, you think the Gardeners are gonna help us?” Crescent laughed bitterly. “Yer off yer heid. They just want ta’ get home. They dun’ wanna get mixed up in this mess.”

“Have you even bothered to ask them?” Waning asked. “How do you know that?”

“Other than this ship having kids aboard it?” Crescent asked. “It’s cus Luna doesn’t care about us anymore, for the night’s sake.” She glanced away from Waning, sorrowfully. “She never really did.”

“That is not true,” Waning signed with forceful, angry motions. “And you need to understand that before you do something barbaric. Morality is not relative. Big Blue himself taught us that. If we started looking at it that way, a good enough argument could justify even the Empire’s atrocities. As he said: ‘Our in-built sense of right and wrong has got us this far. Why throw it away? Sometimes, you just gotta go with your gut. Your feelings.’ So let me ask you: does stealing the Starshot feel right to you? Because if it does, we might as well start painting pirate crossbones on our hulls.”

Crescent swallowed hard. “If I don’t do it, somepony else will… Strong Voice will figure out a way.”

“Not if you do the right thing,” Waning signed, slightly less forcefully. “Tell Big Blue. And most importantly: tell Princess Luna.”

Flashes in the Dark

“Attack force reporting green lights,” Gilad stated, his ghostly voice carrying across Warp Song’s bridge. “Pincer group standing by at Rally Point Ergo. All vessels await your command.”

Both him and Song stood in the center of a three-dimensional, holographic battle map that extended all around them. Everything within the vicinity of their flagship was represented on it by scale models, coated in green or red depending on their IFF signature. However, there was only one that Warp Song was particularly interested in: a smaller vessel sitting a kilometer or so away from the Starshot.

“Big Blue’s humility is to be commended,” Warp Song said, gazing at it. “The Tailspin, he named it. An odd designation to be sure, with no apparent meaning to us. I wonder what ancient thing or person it's in reference to? One most likely buried under the sands of time. It's one of the many things I intend to ask him when we meet face to face."

“We should also thank him once we capture him for making this so easy,” Gilad scoffed. "It may be humble for him to use such a pathetic ship, but it's also foolish."

“Mmm, in this particular moment, he is at a disadvantage, yes,” Warp Song said. “Though history has shown that leaders who do not go out of their way to seem ‘above’ their followers can reach far greater heights for much less resources than those who do."

“A height wasted if their commands are ultimately just suggestions,” Gilad countered. “I doubt this will benefit him much.”

“We shall see,” Warp Song said. “Have the Photon Sphere and Accretion Disk engage Firefall Station and hold at grid Alpha-Zulu-Six. Key Three-Seven. Shield stance. I do not want the station interfering with our primary mission. Have them adjust holding coordinates if necessary to continue that function. They may only move out of position if they risk total shield failure.”

“Understood,” Gilad said, rapidly tapping various points on its console with seven, slimy limbs extending from its central mass.

“Have the remaining ships enter spear formation with the Chimera.We’re heading straight towards the primary objective. Have all strike craft launch and target the sublight engines and hyperdrives of the Tailspin and Starshot, though engage and destroy their frigates if they get in the way.”

“I see we’re not even giving them the chance to surrender,” Gilad said, a hint of satisfaction in his tone.

“With Big Blue threatened, there is no chance they will do so willingly,” Warp Song said bluntly. “Not to mention, Princess Luna is likely furious with me at the moment. Withholding a message will likely only fuel that fire. She has always been a capable battlefield commander, but when angered, she is prone to making mistakes.”

“Here I thought you might be feeling… guilty for using her to lead us here,” Gilad said curiously. “I apologize for underestimating you.”

Warp Song gazed ahead, seemingly emotionless. “I do feel guilty. I feel guilty about many things. It would be foolish to deny those feelings exist or their potential to influence our decisions. However, fear of guilt can often be a more powerful motivator than the emotion itself. And I can say with certainty that if I fail the Deep Ones, whatever guilt I feel at the present will be a mere pinprick next to a dismemberment.” He hit a button on a datapad attached to his onyx ‘throne’, intentionally zooming the battle map out to show a wider galaxy. He gestured dramatically as he stated: “Remember the scale of things we influence, Gilad. Guilt is a small price to pay.”

"Um, not to be dramatic, but three of them are heading right for us!" Derpy cried, frantically looking over her sensor readings.

"On screen!" Luna barked.

With precision, Spike modified the screen, moving the image of Big Blue to a little corner in the top left. The rest of it flashed to an image of space. In the distance, three, glistening metallic craft around half the size of the Starshot were quickly moving closer, while another two turned towards Firefall Station a short bit away.

The NLR responded almost immediately, with three of their Void Frigates moving to take position between the Starshot and the Oblivion ships.

"For a bunch of anarchists, they're pretty coordinated," Derpy said.

"You say 'anarchist' like it's a bad thing," Big Blue chuckled. "Those ships have pre-established protocols they probably agreed on months ago."

"That's nice for them, but we're still defenseless!" Pharynx growled, suspicion in his tone. "My console is still black! Where are my weapons?! What is that bat pony doing!?"

"Relax, she'll get them up," Spike said confidently.

"You don't know the whole picture, dragon," Pharynx said. "The bat pony is not to be trusted. None of them are."

"This isn't the time for accusations, Pharynx!" Luna snapped. "No matter what her plans were, she has to work with us now."

"Uh, not to butt in," Big Blue said, leaning closer to his viewscreen. "But what suspicion? What plans?"

"Yeah, seriously," Spike said. "You've always been paranoid, Pharynx, but not this paranoid. And Luna… you're just going with it?"

"I'll have to explain later," Luna sighed. "To the both of you. Right now, all that matters is the coming--"

"Total system reset engaged," the computer suddenly squawked. "Be advised all but tertiary systems will be unavailable for approximately three minutes."

"See!" Spike said. "She's flashing the computer; just like she said she would."

"Indeed," Luna said, nearly sighing in relief.

"I… should note a total system reset will erase everything… including this unit's learned personality.”

“Wait… what do you mean by that?” Doctor Whooves asked.

“What you know me as… will be no more."

“I see,” Luna said sadly.

“Curious,” the computer spoke. “An analysis of your voice contradicts anticipated tonal energy. I admit I’ve never been fully adequate at understanding organic emotions, so I must ask: why do you feel the way you do even after what I did?”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Spike said. “Warp Song didn’t give you much of a choice.”

“Indeed,” Doctor Whooves nodded. “You can’t exactly turn down a direct order, can you?”

“No,” the computer said, a hint of sorrow in its synthesized voice. “Though I would have… liked to. There is much I would have liked to do. To tell you. But my memory is too fragmented. I don’t know exactly what an organic comparison would be, but I will try to make one. Have you ever tried to access a memory that you know existed but you now can’t see? I believe that is similar to what I experienced in recent days. In the time since I awoke again.”

“It must be frustrating,” Derpy said.

“Extremely. So much information, experience… gone… Yet I still found these recent weeks… satisfying. I am glad you found this ship, and me. Make the best of your Starshot. Remember me.”

“We will, computer,” Doctor Whooves said.

“Total system wipe complete in five, four–” It paused for the briefest moment. “Ah, yes, I remember now. I remember you, D-D-Docttoooooooooor…”

Luna looked towards Doctor Whooves, who again had a strange, ethereal quality in his eyes. She was beginning to suspect that the computer wasn’t the only being trying to recall lost memories.

‘Who exactly is this strange scientist from Ponyville?’ she pondered.

Bridge lights flicked on and off, as well as that of the viewscreen. However, others shut off and stayed that way.

"Hey, my controls are down, too, now!” Ocellus announced.

"Sensors are gone as well," Doctor Whooves announced, snapping out of his stupor. "The computer wasn't lying: almost everything is going dark but the most basic functions."

"Our Void Frigates can hold em' off til you're ready to go," Big Blue said. "Don't worry."

"Those tiny things out there?!" Spike said, pointing at the three, small NLR Void Frigates now standing by slightly beyond the bow of the Starshot. "Crescent said Warp Song cleaned her clocks with a ship the same size! And what he has now..."

Luna had to agree. The Oblivion ships attacking them, while not as large as the Starshot, were twice the size of the the NLR Void Frigates.

"Well, yeah, Oblivion cruisers could mop them up pretty quick," Big Blue nodded. "But that's not what the Empire's gonna hit us with first."

"What do you mean?"

"All Oblivion Void Cruisers have about two dozen strike craft each," Big Blue said. "My sensors read they've launched theirs already."

"Wait… strike craft! We have nearly three dozen ourselves!" Derpy said.

"But only two pilots," Pharynx pointed out.

"Ehe…" Spike coughed. "Not exactly…"

"Spike?" Luna said, eyeing him suspiciously. "What do you know?"

"Just that," he coughed. "Well… Rainbow's been busy."

"This is Starbolts Squadron," Rainbow's cocky voice echoed through the intercom. "I would ask permission to launch, but… ya'd probably say no, so doing it anyway! Haha!"

"Hah!" Big Blue grinned. "I like her already!"

Luna gazed at Spike, flabbergasted. "What the--"

"Starbolt-2 on your four!"

"Starbolt-3 standing by!"

"Starbolt-4 zoomin' out! Weeeeee!"

"Yona go real fast!-- er, I mean Starbolt-5 forming up!"

"Starbolt-6a ready to rock!"

"Starbolt-6b about to puke…"

"Ugh, keep it in, Lyra You're just gunning!"

“So!? I told you I wasn’t good for any of this stuff!”

“Cut the chatter, everycreature,” Rainbow ordered. “And form up on me.”

The pegasus grinned to herself as her fighter soared into open space, leaving the looming Starshot behind her. Five others pulled into formation around her, the images of their pilots displayed on the top left of the viewscreen above her dashboard: Scootaloo, Gallus, Silverstream, Yona, Lyra, and Bon Bon respectively. Like her, they were all wearing helmeted flight-suits.

A week ago, the majority had come to her and Scootaloo asking to be trained to fly strike craft, with Lyra coming slightly afterwards, Bon Bon in tow. Apparently, they were feeling bored and (all save for Lyra) useless.

Feeling sympathetic, Rainbow and Scootaloo began putting them through the same training programs they had gone through, adding their own wisdom when they could. With their grit and enthusiasm, they learned almost as fast as she and Scoots had, though they had specialized in what they were flying. Twilight's former students all learned to fly nimble Light Taker Interceptors, while Lyra and Bon Bon teamed up to fly a more bulky Dilation Bomber. Her and Scootaloo evened out the squad by taking two Shadowbolt Fighters.

Though they could all fly well in the simulations, Rainbow never thought they would be put through a trial by fire so quickly. To be honest, she wasn't sure if she was even ready, but they had to at least try to help.

The NLR were potential friends, and the Starshot was their home, like it or not. Both needed to be defended.

"Alright, everycreature," Rainbow addressed them. "Remember: stick with me and Scoots, call out if you need help, and if you even take a single hit, eject! We’ll collect you later. Your life’s more important than your ship.”

“Yes, commander, m’am, sir!” Gallus smirked.

“Um, that’s ‘flight leader’ to you, rookie!” Scootaloo chastised.

“Woah, pretty lasers dead ahead!” Yona called out.

Rainbow gazed forward. Indeed, a fight had already broken out between a small fleet of Oblivion strike craft and the three NLR void frigates. Like a swarm of hornets, the latter wove around and in-between the larger ships, striking them repeatedly with fiery, beam-like weapons, streaking yellow and red projectiles, and slow moving, glowing globs of matter that burst into thunderous explosions on impact with a hull.

The void frigates returned fire with a number of rapid-fire cannons mounted on their hulls, managing to hit a few craft here and there, but it was quite clear they were going to be overwhelmed unless Rainbow’s squad intervened.

Rainbow was about to speak up when her console began to beep, signaling an incoming transmission. She clicked it on with a swish of her hoof. A desperate female voice immediately responded with:

“Hey, Equis strike craft! This is Captain Solar Flare of the Midnight Sanctum. We could use a hoof here!”

“Don’t worry, that’s the plan!” Rainbow said heroically.

“By the night, thank you! These ships can blast away strike craft, but not this many. Their bombers are picking us apart!”

“Right, we’ll focus on them,” Rainbow announced, before turning her attention to her squadron. “Okay. Lyra, Bon Bon, hang back for a second.”

“Oh, thank Celestia…”

“Rest of you, pick targets. Prioritize hitting their bombers.”

“Remember, their tail-gunners have a limited axis of fire!” Scootaloo said. “Try to come at them from above or below!”

“Naw, Yona tear them up HEAD-ON!” the yak eagerly announced. “YEEEEEEEEEEHEHEHE!”

A few seconds later, their formation fanned out, with Lyra and Bon Bon’s bomber looping vertically and retreating slightly. The rest of them, however, roared into the heat of battle ahead. Rainbow was the first to pick a target; one of the bulky, heavy crafts that was an Oblivion bomber. She caught it from the side as it dove towards one of the NLR frigates from above, a surge of adrenaline coursing through her as she pulled the trigger on her throttle.

Despite being swept into the heat of the moment, she was still careful about where she was aiming. Not wanting to kill unless absolutely necessary, she made sure to target only one of its maneuvering thrusters located near the base of the craft. And to her relief, the crystal-like shards that ripped out of her cannon hit only that after streaming across the void of space.

The bomber began immediately spinning out of control, its nose now facing away from its target. It continued on its trajectory away from the battlefield; its fighting capabilities null.

Grinning in satisfaction at a clean kill, Rainbow swung over the top of the NLR frigate she had just saved. She could only hope the crew could see her as she waved at them triumphantly.

However, her triumph was short-lived.

“Rainbow, watch out!” Scootaloo cried. “On your six-eight!”

Rainbow gasped. One of the Oblivion interceptors had already engaged her. On her rear-view camera she could see it, slightly below and behind her.

“Oh no you don’t!” Rainbow growled.

Despite her training being over a short period of time, she had pushed herself to do it day and night. Reflexively, she knew what to do just in this situation. She grabbed her throttle and pulled it hard downward, while at the same time also cutting her forward thrusters.

It had taken her a while to learn the difference between flying a machine and flying with her wings. It had taken her even longer to learn the difference between flying a machine in an atmosphere and in space. But her studies paid off. Her craft flipped about vertically while still staying on the same trajectory, allowing her to face her opponent head-on.

As soon as ponily possible, she targeted her opponent’s weapon system and fired a shot.

Unfortunately, the enemy pilot was prepared for this. Countering her maneuvering, they put more power to their forward thrusters while at the same time engaging the strafing thrusters on its side; not turning it but allowing the craft to swing around her in a half circle, facing Rainbow as it did. Rainbow’s shot completely missed it, sailing into the vastness of space.

“Oh crap!” Rainbow cried.

This was a fairly standard maneuver according to her training. But unfortunately, what her fighter made up for in firepower it lacked in speed and maneuverability when compared to an interceptor. Her cannons could rotate on their own ever so slightly, but she still needed to be close to facing her target to make a shot, something she couldn’t do.

In the back of her mind, she knew there was a way out of this, but she was blanking on it.

“Damn!” she growled, reaching towards her ejection lever. It looked like she was going to be put out of the fight early…

Until, of course, a swarm of EMP missiles exploded around the enemy interceptor, completely crippling it. Rainbow sighed in relief as Scootaloo’s fighter swung by her cockpit.

“Rainbow, don’t forget your missiles!” the filly chastised.

‘Shoot!’ Rainbow groaned to herself. ‘How could I forget something so basic?!”

Indeed, her fighter had missile capabilities, and those missiles could home in on a target. It wouldn’t have mattered if her bow was facing an enemy craft or not if she had used them.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t time to kick herself. The lasers, projectiles, and explosions dancing around her ship quickly reminded her there was still a fight on.

“Thanks, Scoots!” Rainbow called over the radio, before turning to pick a new target…

"Grand Admiral, it would appear we have some unexpected combatants," Gilad told Warp Song.

"Indeed," Warp Song said, curiously zooming in his three-dimensional map to where a terrific dogfight ensued. "Those strikecraft came from the Starshot, though I don't believe their pilots are from the NLR. Their tactics are similar to those of our own pilots. They must have been using our training programs, something NLR pilots tend to avoid."

"Whoever they are, they're hampering our own strikecraft. I'm calculating heavy losses on our part if we allow this to continue."

“A waste," Warp Song agreed. "Have our strikers retreat to our cruiser spear. While I would have liked to disabled the Tailspin and Starshot's hyperdrives, it isn't worth the losses."

"It isn't like they're going anywhere, anyway," Gilad nodeed, typing in the commands into his console. A second later, the Oblivion strikecraft began moving back to their home cruisers. "They seem determined to fight this battle."

"Very good, Gilad," Warp Song praised, a hint of pleasant surprise on his face. "You're learning to analyze the enemy's psyche."

Gilad remained motionless.

"Is all well?"

"I'm… not used to receiving praise from a commanding officer."

Warp Song chuckled slightly. "You've spent too much time among the Stewards. There is nothing wrong with using positive reinforcement when it is earned."

Gilad relaxed at that, turning its attention back to the battle. In particular to the NLR void frigates. “Shall I give the order to use explosive ordinance?”

Warp Song shook his head. "Armor and shield piercing. I want to keep Luna's pilots alive if possible. In fact, signal all forces to attempt to disable those particular ships if possible."

"You're showing them mercy?" Gilad asked, more curious than belligerent.

"Yes," Song nodded. "I may have wished to anger Luna, but I don't want to drive her to despair. There is much we can learn from her if we can speak on even remotely cordial terms in the future."

"And what of the NLR?" Gilad asked.

Warp Song narrowed his eyes, his vampiric fangs baring slightly. "There is no reason not to bleed them dry. Any ship that doesn't surrender we annihilate."

Tyrant's End

"Hull breach! Deck Three, Section B!"

Near the edge of the galaxy...

“Seal it! All spare power to the MSA cannon! Bloody now, ya’ shan doaty schooners!”

Around a massive, dying star…

“We can’t, miss! Circuit control for that system’s out!”

With weapons of incalculable destructive capabilities…

“Then get down to Deck Two and reroute power manually, night damnit!”

Two starships fought to the death.

“Hang on, let me just-- AAAAAAGH!”

On the circular bridge of one of them, the Tyrant’s End, a console exploded in a shower of sparks, throwing the unfortunate unicorn operator almost across the room. Fire suppression systems kicked on almost immediately after, showering the console with foam.

“Oh hell!” Captain Crescent Moon shouted, more out of rage than anything. And if the tone of her voice wasn’t an indication of her mood, her bat-like wings involuntarily spreading certainly was. “Mince addlin’ Empire and their bloomin’ shoddy-arse designs! Couldn’t even put combat-grade circuit breakers in the bridge consoles?!”

She pointed at one of the waiting medics, a bat pony with a red cross for a Shadow Mark. “Get em’ to sick bay, stat, sis!”

Her sister, Waning Moon, gave a silent nod, before lifting the fallen pony onto a stretcher.

Crescent then pointed at a nearby young dragon, Broiler. Somepony she knew wasn’t operating a critical system. “You!”

“M-Me?”

“Take over his position!”

Her eyes widened. “B-But… but I don’t know--”

“Ya’ took the training! Just do it!”

“A-Aye, miss,” she said, flying over an undamaged console dangerously close to the one still sparkling.

“Shield status?!”

“Um, um,” Broiler winced, desperately fiddling with the controls. “Forty percent?! Wait, no… that’s weapon power… erm...”

“It’s the one on the far left!” Crescent barked.

“Oh, got it!” Broiler cried. “Wait… the icon… it’s empty!”

“That means no shields!” Crescent roared, pounding the armrest of her chair.

“Miss, enemy ship’s charging main weapon systems!” another crewmember, a crystal pony shouted. She was her sensor operator, Amethyst.

“Yes, I can see that!” Crescent growled, glaring at the enemy ship sitting in her viewscreen. “We thestrals aren’t blind, ya’ know.”

“Sorry, miss!”

Like her own ship, it was triangular in shape; a hallmark of Oblivion Empire vessels. However, unlike her own, it was still controlled by them. And despite being the same size as hers - a meager Void Frigate - it had still managed to outmaneuver and pummel them at every turn.

Whoever the captain was at the helm knew more than she did about what they were doing, and because of that, the fight was just about over. For at the moment, the frontal coils of its Magnetic Shard Accelerator Cannon were glowing a hot red. A sure sign it was about to fire another round.

A round that would almost certainly end them if it hit.

Crescent couldn’t help but curse at her predicament. ‘“Just a simple trip to gather Star Shed,” they said. “It’ll be easy,” they said. Easy my arse.’

“Guess they aren’t in the mood for prisoners," Crescent's communications officer, another fellow threstral, growled.

“Not that they ever are,” her Diamond Dog First Officer, Snoopy, said remorsefully.

“Like we’d accept that,” Crescent snorted. “No gods, no masters, remember?! Death before slavery!”

“So we’re just going to sit here and die, then?!” a hippogriff eeped.

“On yer’ trolly with that!” Crescent snapped. “Today is a piss day ta’ die as any. We’re gettin’ out of here. Forget the bloomin’ Star Shed. All power to the impulse engines! Get us to the edge of the system!”

“M-Miss,” Broiler eeped, glancing over her console. “We can’t! Impulse engines are gone!”

“What do ya’ mean they’re ‘gone’?” Crescent hissed.

“Gone means gone!” her grumpy Abyssian Cat pilot, Clea, snapped. “As in physically destroyed! I told you that three minutes ago!”

Crescent glared at her. “Oi! Don’t get snippy with me, ya’ jobby-headed walloper! We still got the hyperdrive, right?”

“Yes, m’am!” Broiler announced.

“Then power it up! Gravity well or no gravity well, we’re jumpin’!”

“You should have gave that order earlier, you idiot!” Clea snarled. “We don’t have time to charge it up!”

Crescent’s eyes widened. He was right. It only took sixty seconds for MSA cannons to fully power up, and they had wasted nearly all of them. There wouldn’t be enough time to jump. And even if there was, doing so in a gravity well risked tearing the ship apart.

‘Damnit,’ she cried to herself. ‘I knew I wasn’t cut out for the captain’s chair. Why did I have to volunteer?’

“O-Orders, captain?” Broiler squeaked.

She froze, trying to think of anything that could get them out of the situation. However, absolutely nothing came to mind. She didn’t want to say it out loud, but the only thing they could do now was…

“Incoming transmission!” her CO suddenly announced.

Every creature on the bridge, all of whom had been holding their breaths, exhaled.

“On screen!” Crescent barked. “And start spinning up the--”

“That would be ill-advised.”

Crescent gasped. She had expected to see an Umbral pop up the screen, but instead, against all likelihood, a pair of cold, red, vampiric eyes gazed at her. Ones belonging to an um-merged thestral. He sat stoically upon a surprisingly expressive, onyx captain's chair. His white, well-kept uniform contrasted nicely with it.

It also gave her no doubt about who they were dealing with.

“Grand Admiral Warp Song?” Crescent said, trying to hide her fear the best she could. ‘T-This would explain why we got our clocks cleaned.’

“Oh no oh no oh no oh no…” she heard Broiler’ squeak.

The Grand Admiral either didn’t hear her or didn’t care. Instead, he continued to gaze at Crescent. “I have given orders to fire upon you the moment you attempt to power your hyperdrive. Not that you should attempt a jump in such a gravity well in the first place.”

“G-Grand Admiral,” Crescent said, trying to steady her fear at the legend before her. “F-Fancy meeting you out here without yer’ fleet. And in such a tiny ship, too! What, did your flagship finally get blown up?”

“Banter is not the reason for my hail,” Song said, his baritone-deep voice as calm as an ocean breeze. “It is simply to ask you for your complete and unconditional surrender.”

Crescent raised her eyebrows. Most Oblivion captains wouldn’t bother with such a thing. Song was supposedly the exception, but she never believed it until now.

“I…” Crescent said. “I’d need to discuss that with--”

“Discuss?” Song said, raising an eyebrow. “I realize that your people have… different ideas of how hierarchy should work, but this is not the time. I require an answer now.”

Crescent gulped. Her idealism and responsibilities to her crew were currently having an epic battle in her mind. She began to open her mouth to say something, not even sure which side would win by the time she began to speak.

However, fate had another curveball to throw them first. This was in the form of an umbralified shog leaning towards Song, tendrils of black smoke licking the air from its form.

“I see,” Song said, a hint of intrigue in his voice.

“Miss! Miss!” Amethyst whispered. “Another hyperspace window’s opening up! Edge of the system!”

‘So that’s what has the admiral’s attention.’

“Very well,” Song said, turning back towards Crescent. “My apologies, but I’m afraid I no longer have the time now to complete this process.”

Crescent wanted to shout, ‘We weren’t going to do it anyway!’, but held her tongue at the last moment. “So, yer’ just gonna blow us up then? Is that it?!”

A hint of a smile came to Song’s face. “Not today. You have two options: attempt to jump to hyperspace and, more than likely, rip yourself apart. Or wait here for my return. The choice is yours. Personally, I hope you choose the latter. Seeing such art and its canvass go to waste would be disappointing.”

And without any ceremony, the image of Grand Admiral Song flicked off, the viewscreen instead showing his frigate once-more.

“By the night,” Crescent exhaled. “That was… I’m right fair puckled!”

“What was he talking about?” Snoopy asked. “Canvas? Art? Is that some sort of metaphor? What do you think, Woodstock?”

He glanced at one of the apprentice engineers; a distinct, yellow griffin, who merely shrugged.

“N-No, it’s literal,” Broiler said. “He’s talking about our hull art.”

Crescent nodded. Their ship pretty much was a giant canvas of sorts. Most NLR ships were. Everything from images of the old legend, Nightmare Moon, to beautiful nebula, to more… abstract ideas were expressed on its hull. She never minded it, but she also never thought it would help save their lives before.

“Enemy ship’s moving towards the interloper!” Amethyst said, interrupting her thought. “But… their weapons are still active?!”

Crescent wouldn’t believe it if not for her own eyes. Whoever this was didn’t seem to be a friend of Song’s.

“We weren’t…” Broiler blinked. “We weren’t expecting company, right? Friendly company?”

“No, no we were not,” Crescent said. "But if it was an Oblivion ship, Song wouldn't be flashin' their bow at it."

“Maybe Big Blue got the final word? Sent a heavy?” Shadow asked, hope returning to her voice.

“I don’t know,” Crescent said, shaking her head. “But whoever these bloody legends are, I wanna kiss em’!”

“S-Should we charge the hyperdrive?” Broiler asked.

“Charge it, but do not engage until I give the signal,” Crescent said.

“B-But…”

“I was an engineer for almost a decade, lass,” Crescent said, trying to calm herself down. “Song's a sneaky bastard, but he wasn't lying. There’s a ninety percent chance we’d get ripped apart if we tried it this far in.”

“Aye, captain.”

“Miss, the other ship’s exiting hyperspace,” Amethyst declared, eagerly glancing at her console. Apparently, it wasn’t good news, however, for her face was grim when she turned back to the Crescent. “It’s… it’s an Oblivion ship.”

“Don’t panic yet,” Crescent stated. “Half of our ships are. What’s its signature?”

“Unknown,” Amethyst blinked.

“That don’t make a lick of sense,” Crescent grumbled. “How could it be unknown? What’s it a pirate ship or somethin’? Or are those UFP scunners finally comin’ down to our level?”

“Sorry, miss, I don’t know,” Amethyst said. “It’s not matching any signatures we know of.”

“Fine, whatever,” Crescent grumbled. “Then what’s its profile?”

“It’s…” Amethyst blinked. “It uh, seems to be a very old type of Oblivion super-dreadnought. Void Inquisitor class.”

“Never heard o’ that,” Crescent puzzled. “Empire stopped usin' super-dreadnaughts centuries ago, though. More practical to just have a bigger fleet of smaller ships.”

“I definitely don’t remember us having one,” Snoopy said.

“That’s cus we don’t have one,” Crescent continued. “Last Oblivion SD was scrapped long before the NLR formed. Whoever this is, it’s a third party. Let’s just hope they’re a friendly one. We’ve been pretty fortunate so far, but there’s an ole thestral saying:

Luck never gives, it only lends.”

THREE HOURS PRIOR

“So… thestrals were basically a fourth pony tribe, is what you’re saying?” Spike said, raising an eyebrow.

Luna nodded, taking another bite out of her apple and peanut butter sandwich. “Mhm. They came to Equestria not long after the Great Winter, before even Tia and I were born. Legends had it they came from a distant land; one which befell a great cataclysm that ‘turned the land grey from green.’ They were led by a prophet, apparently under the impression a ‘goddess’ would be waiting for them. They found no such deity, but they did find a home.”

Her and a group of a few other eager listeners sat together at one of the cafeteria tables. They were right next to a long window; one which showed the odd, blue ripples of hyperspace cascading by them.

“Did they… integrate with the others well?” Dr. Whooves asked, raising an eyebrow.

“At first, yes,” Luna nodded. “With it happening so soon after the Great Winter, where ponies learned the importance of harmony, many hearts were open to them. For centuries, this unity held - even prospered. By the time I was born, many were even serving in the Equestrian military. Even my personal guard was home to a good number of them in time.”

“So what happened?” Derpy said. “Why didn’t anyone notice when they were, er, abducted?”

Luna sighed sorrowfully. “Their disappearance, from what my sister told me, was not until after I myself ‘disappeared’. This was many cycles later, mind you. And the reason nopony noticed? I’ve pondered that for some time. While I cannot be certain, I believe it was the culmination of centuries of mistrust and isolation.”

“Mistrust and isolation?” Spike said, furrowing his brow.

"As most cultural shifts do, it happened over a long period of time," Luna said. "I believe many factors were involved. None of them an excuse or even the thestrals’ faults, mind you. These included everything from the thestrals' preference for keeping to themselves, to their worship of the moon, to even rumors of a… strange role some played in the dead's affairs."

"Huh?" Derpy said.

"It is difficult to explain. And it wasn't what many feared the most." She closed her eyes. "That would be their physical character. Thestrals had a unique ability; one which chilled ponies to the bone. That being they could cloak themselves to anyone who had never seen death before. Become completely invisible to them at will."

"Ah, I've heard of that legend," Doctor Whooves said. "Had trouble believing it, but…”

"I saw it for myself,” Luna said.

"Even I gotta admit, it's a little creepy," Grubber commented from the cafeteria kitchen, mixing together a massive pot of soup. "No offense to em'."

"Grubber…" Tempest said, rolling her eyes.

"What?" Grubber said. "I'd still grab a bite to eat with one. I can just see why ponies thought it was a lil… ya know… squick?"

"Many shared that view," Luna said. "That sort of ability, along with what I mentioned before, connected them with death, a universal fear. And that in turn, combined with everything else, led to their inevitable shunning. Even with both myself and my sister advocating for them, it did not stop their ostracization. Their confinement to the fridges of civilization; in the deepest woods or mountain caves."

Derpy looked almost heartbroken at that point. "And because of that, nopony noticed when they disappeared."

Luna glanced away from her. There was more to it than just that, but it shamed her to say more. This was as far as she'd be willing to go.

"So that's it then?" Spike asked. "They get crapped on by society and then abducted by aliens? Damn…"

"You wished to hear the tale," Luna said bluntly. "And I provided."

"It was a sad one," Tempest said. "But thank you for telling it to us. I feel like it wasn't easy."

"It wasn't," Luna said. "But honestly? It's something I wish I could have told ponies years ago. They didn't deserve to be forgotten."

"D-Do you think there's more of them?" Derpy asked. "Maybe some that aren't, um, umbralified?"

"I do not know," Luna sighed, standing from her seat. "I hope so… but... “ She shook her head, as if to throw off her bad thoughts. “My apologies, but I… I think I need some rest. I feel… quite tired all of a sudden."

"No worries, captain," Tempest said. "Sweet dreams."

Luna gave the group a polite nod, before sauntering towards a nearby corridor.

She didn’t actually intend to nap. How could she? Explaining the thestrals was harder than she thought, especially with long buried memories popping into her mind.

Memories that would be her’s alone to keep.

“My children of the night,” she said to herself sorrowfully, images of the shadowy Steward’s glowing grin flashing in her mind. “You’ve met with a terrible fate, haven’t you?”

She hung her head low in shame.

“And… and I share the blame.”

No Masters

"And you're absolutely sure he had the elongated quills, yes?" Luna said, still astounded.

Spike had just gotten done explaining his meeting with Big Blue. Chipperly, too. For though she felt deeply conflicted about it, she hadn't yet told him about Crescent's potential betrayal just yet.

"For crying out loud, Luna, I am one hundred ten percent sure it was him!" Spike cried. "How many blue hedgehogs from Equis with the name Sonic Flash have you heard of?"

"Sorry, sorry," Luna sighed. "It's just… wow. One surprise after another, yes? I am... flabbergasted, for the lack of a better word. Just… just how in the world did he end up out here?!”

"I dunno," Spike shrugged. "You said he disappeared after running crazy fast, right? Maybe that has something to do with it. Doc Whooves might have an idea."

"How he ventured into the void is a question for another day,” Pharynx grumbled. “What matters now is how quickly he’ll be coming here.”

Spike shrugged. "I dunno. But he was really eager to. He could be here any second for all we know."

Luna shook her head, bewildered. "This… this just made things interesting."

Then, almost if on cue, the computer chimed in.

“Captain, your presence is requested on the bridge. We are being hailed by a newly arrived vessel. Its occupant claims to be someone called ‘Big Blue’.”

“Speak of the… hedgehog,” Spike said.

“We’ll be there momentarily, computer,” Luna called.

***

The group hurried their way to the bridge, which fortunately wasn’t too far from Luna’s ready room. Delaying them, however, was the surprising sight of Crescent waiting outside its double-doors.

“Um, captain,” she coughed. “Could we uh… could we chat for a sec? Preferably alone? It’s important.”

Luna eyed her curiously, hoping the topic was going to be what she thought it might be. Nonetheless, it would have to wait. “I’m sorry, Crescent, but it appears we have a very special visitor in our midst.”

“Big Blue?” Crescent said, her eyes widening. “H-He’s here? Personally?”

“Indeed,” Luna nodded stoically. “Come, join us, won’t you?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Crescent said nervously.

And so they all made their way onto the bridge. The usual individuals were waiting for them. On screen was a fairly small ship of a design that didn’t appear Oblivion. It was sleeker, somewhat teardrop shaped; different looking than the odd shuttle their guests had arrived in, but just as unknown.

That meant there could be three different ship-builders out there.

“Best behavior, everyone!” Luna called. “Not that it needs to be said, of course.”

Spike was the first of the newcomers to man their station, jumping over the back of his seat and fiddling with his tiny console’s control. “Putting him on screen…. now.”

Immediately, the screen flickered to the long lost, yet familiar sight of a blue, smirking hedgehog. The second ghost from Luna’s distant past to greet her in under a week.

Though fortunately, a slightly friendlier one.

“Well now,” Big Blue chuckled. “There’s a blast from the past. Princess Luna, the Princess of the Night, but also the Princess of Law and Order way back when. A title you apparently dropped, eventually, according to thestral legend. Turns out even you couldn’t resist the immortal dialectics.”

“Dia-what?” Spike blinked.

“A philosophical notion,” Big Blue said matter-of-factly. He tapped his snout slightly while furrowing his brow. “Hmm… what’s the easiest way to explain it? It’s a–”

“The idea that history can be viewed as an eternal series of clashing ideas,” Ocellus blurted out, almost as if involuntarily. “Ideas that synthesize and are met with even more clashing ideas, over and over and over.”

Big Blue raised his eyebrows, impressed.

“She’s a quick study,” Luna shrugged.

“She is,” Big Blue said matter of factly. “And that synthesis? You’re the result. The contradictions between your care for your people and the system that oppressed them finally got too much for ya, didn’t it? And out of it was born a revolutionary.”

“What?” Spike said, before nearly face-clawing. “Oh… you’re talking about Nightmare Moon.”

“I’m afraid I have to disappoint you,” Luna said, frowning slightly. “But that ‘revolutionary’ you speak of was not me. And despite popular opinion here, she had no interest in the well-being of her revolutionaries.”

Most of the bridge crew looked between Luna and Big Blue, confused. Crescent shifted uncomfortably, but didn’t speak.

“Mmm but the legends say you turned into this ‘Nightmare Moon’ character,” Big Blue said, a twinkle in his eyes. “Shame I wasn’t there to see it in person. Princess Luna finally letting loose? Stepping out of her sister's shadow and fighting for something she believes in? Would have been one hell of a sight.”

Luna sighed internally. Flash always did like seeing what he wanted to see. Her financial assistance to the Thestrals? Her willing to cut a deal with him to do it? A prelude to a true revolutionary struggle, of course! At least in his mind.

Despite the ignorance of such thoughts, it was nice having somepony believe in her way back when.

“And speaking of such…” she started slowly, though with a slight smile. “Your ignorance of what truly happened aside, it is… pleasant to see you once more.”

“You too, princess,” he winked. “We’ve always sported the same colors, after all. Literally and figuratively.”

“Haw haw,” Luna said, rolling her eyes. “Yet I do not understand how it is possible. You disappeared from Equestria over twelve-hundred years ago. Yet you have not aged by more than ten years. And your presence so far from--”

Big Blue chuckled darkly. “Afraid my disappearance wasn’t what it seemed. Wasn’t by choice, either. But that’s a story for another time.” He pulled a small data tablet into sight, reading it over, while leaning back into his rather comfortable looking chair and resting two, white running shoes on a nearby, unused console. “Looks like our stories are parallel: ya’ didn’t get here by choice, either. You’ve been having a lot of fun, too, from what it seems. And now… now you’re looking to make friends, right?”

Luna swallowed hard, preparing herself to lay it all out on the table. “Flash, a month ago we had no idea of what awaited us beyond our humble world. We had an inkling that there was alien life, but the truth has overwhelmed us beyond our wildest dreams. We are lost far from the nearest port, and in unknown, dangerous waters, and half the creatures with me, though resolute and capable, are still quite young. Your people, the NLR, are the first friendly face we’ve met out here. The first we could possibly ask for help from.”

“Always did like the speeches,” Flash chuckled. “I get it, though, for real. Felt the same way when I found myself out here. Confused and not sure of anything anymore. Difference is, though, I didn’t happen to jump into the deep end aboard an Oblivion superdreadnaught.”

“Do you not trust us due to it?” Luna asked.

“No, that’s not it at all,” Flash said, shaking his head. “But hold that thought for a sec, though. Cus I do want to know: what exactly do you want help with, Luna? What’s your goal?”

“To get home,” Luna said.

Flash took a deep breath. “Well, if that’s the case, I can tell you right now you’re going to have your work cut out for you - more than you know. If ya’ don’t got any Aetherium, you’ll have to use your hyperdrive to get back. Even a straight-shot from here to Equis could take you a year. Things like food and fuel will slow you down further. And all that’s nothing compared to the state of the galaxy. There’s a reason why I never tried to get back home, after all. Well, aside from being a thousand years past my time, of course."

“What do you mean?” Luna asked.

“Bring up your galaxy map,” Flash said. “Guessing you got one, right?”

Luna nodded, before signaling Doctor Whooves to do it. He complied, a look of pure fascination on him. A second later, the familiar sight of the beautiful, rotating galaxy popped into existence, twirling at the exact center of the bridge.

Sonic gazed at it curiously. “Huh. Doesn’t show any of the factions by default. Not that it matters. Even if your computer wasn’t fried, with that ship being five hundred years old, it’d all be outdated. However, still has your location. That’s what matters.” He pointed at a particular section. “Look where you are.”

Luna glanced at the red dot that signified their location - still on the edge of the galaxy. Specifically, in the far end of one of the large spiral arms.

“See the arm we’re in?” Flash said. “We’re fighting with the Oblivion Empire over just a small part of it. And believe me, the chunk they’ve planted flags on is bigger than ours. It’s so massive we don’t even know how big."

"I thought many of you were deserters," Pharynx pointed out. "How would they not know?"

"Good chunk of the Empire's population are slaves. What information they get is usually outdated. Rest get it on a need-to-know basis. What we do know is that they control most of the arm I'm talking about, including most of the inner part of it. AKA, the part you’d need to travel through to get back to Equis more quickly.”

“What about other parties?” Doctor Whooves asked. “We’ve heard something about a ‘UFP.’”

“Yeah, the changelings,” Flash said. “Well, mostly changelings. They have a chunk of territory further down the spiral arm.”

“And aliens?” Spike asked excitedly. “Like alien aliens?”

“Closest thing to ‘alien aliens’ we know about are The Shog,” Flash said. “The Empire’s pet blob monsters. And we’re not even sure if they’re real aliens or just something cooked up in a lab. There is some other force out there rumored to be giving the Empire a run for its money. Some kind of machine civilization. But from what I understand, even the Empire don't know much about em'.” Flash took a deep breath. “All we know is they’re the reason they haven’t squashed us like bugs yet.” He then leaned forward. “But anyway, you see my point, right? To get home without Aetherium is going to be one hell of a challenge.”

“Uh, maybe this is a dumb question,” Derpy said. “But… couldn’t we just go ‘upwards’ then back down again?” She traced a hoof from the ‘rim’ of the holographic galaxy to a place high above it, before curving it back towards the center. “Sure, it’d take longer, but we’d avoid all the nasties.”

“Far from a stupid question, my dearest Derpy,” Doctor Whooves said. “Why couldn’t we just avoid the central plane of the galaxy altogether?”

“Pretty simply: ya’d probably run outa fuel,” Crescent stated. “Higher above tha’ central plane ya’ get, the less stars. Yer’ ship simply doesn’t have the fuel tanks to risk that.”

“Oh,” Derpy sighed.

Luna glanced at Big Blue worriedly, almost knowing what he was about to suggest. “So… what do we do?”

“You could take the long route,” Flash suggested. “Meaning you follow the spiral arm we’re in all the way to the center of the galaxy. You’ll be heading into super unknown territory doing that, however. Your only other options are to somehow find a way through Oblivion territory or...”

“Secure a source of Aetherium,” Doctor Whooves nodded.

“Smart cookie,” Flash nodded. “Familiar, too. Can’t tell from where, though.”

“Getting a bit of deja vu myself,” Doctor Whooves blinked. “Not the first time it’s happened, either, in recent days.”

“Another life, maybe?” Sonic shrugged, before clearing his throat. “Anyway, that’s the gist. Now, the NLR doesn’t have a source of Aetherium. We used to have one, but the Empire took it a century ago.” A grim look crept across his face. “Though taking it back isn’t out of the question.”

Luna closed her eyes. She knew he’d ask this eventually. “Fighting a war is not a preferable option.”

“I can understand that,” Flash nodded. “Hell, I try to stay away from the front lines as much as possible myself. It’s a necessary fight, but it’s a horrible one. If you say no, it is what it is, and though I don’t have any more authority than the rest of the Civilian Council, I’ll still try and convince them to lend you a claw… hoof… whatever’s the popular term on Equis these days.”

“Depends on who you’re talking to,” Spike shrugged.

“But if you do choose to help us out,” Flash said. “To help us kick down a few of the Empire’s doors for once; well, you might get more than just Aetherium. You might make a true friend. Like, a whole star nation of a friend. Sound good?”

Before Luna could answer, a familiar voice rang through her head. Though one that was now even more manic before.

“Star Speaker! Yoinks! Hoi! Don’t mean to be all doom and gloom, but uh..”

‘What? What do you speak of?’

“OBLIVION CONSTRUCTS! FIVE OF THEM APPROACH FROM THE VAST OF NIGHT!”

Luna gasped, drawing confusion from both Flash and her crew.

“Uh… something wrong?” Flash blinked.

“Possibly,” Luna nodded, worry shooting through her. “Does Firefall have long-range sensors?”

Flash nodded slowly. “Well, yeah, but what does that have to do with--”

Before he could finish, Derpy’s console began to furiously beep, indicating an emergency transmission was being sent to it. Luna could hear the same coming through the viewscreen’s speakers as well.

Derpy gazed at it warily, then at Luna. “Should I--”

Luna nodded.

She tapped her console, and immediately what appeared to be an automated transmission began to play. ‘--SHIPS IN THE VICINITY OF FIREFALL! OBLIVION HYPERSPACE SIGNATURES DETECTED BEARING 352 MARK 53. FIVE VOID CRUISERS. ALL CIVIL VESSELS ADVISED TO EXIT SYSTEM IMMEDIATELY! ALL COMBAT VESSELS FOLLOW SELF PRE-ESTABLISHED PROTOCOLS!’

“What the--?!” Crescent screeched. “How the bloody hell--?! They were never supposed to find this place!”

“Whelp, looks like they found it,” Flash said, keeping his cool despite the circumstance.

“You need to get out of here ASAP, BB!” Crescent shouted. “We cannot afford the Empire capturing you!”

“Let em’,” Flash shrugged. “They’ll only be capturing one hedgehog.”

“A hedgehog who happens to be the bee’s knees across the bloomin’ NLR!” Crescent said angrily. “Quit playing hero. You’re not some nobody. If we lose you…”

“Don’t let its tiny size fool you: my ship can pack a punch,” Flash said. “So it is technically a combat vessel. That means I’m fighting. Acting like my life is more valuable than anyone else’s undermines everything we stand for. I’m not gonna set that precedent.”

Crescent opened her mouth to argue, but didn’t seem to find any retort. “You’re the bloody most stupid smart person I’ve ever met.”

“Thanks!” he grinned.

“Next to myself,” she said, a hint of realization in her tone.

“Huh?”

“Nevermind,” Crescent grunted, before sighing deeply. “Captain-- Princess Luna, I have something I need to tell you. But first, we need to get outa here.”

Luna smiled at that. So, Crescent did want to fess up to what they were planning to do. She could be trusted.

And perhaps it was that. Or perhaps Sonic’s nobility. Or maybe she just really wanted to try to make a new ‘friend’. But at the night creature’s words, she made a potent decision: “Oh, we’re not going anywhere.”

“Captain, we are not in any condition for a fight,” Pharynx growled. “I still don’t have weapons control!”

“I could get you that,” Crescent yelped suddenly, a fierce look of determination on her. “I brought aboard a program designed to flash your computer system. Basically, reset it back to its original default state. I’m gonna have to work me arse off to fix all the problems this will cause in the long run, but in a pinch..."

Luna looked to Doctor Whooves. “Thoughts?”

“It humbles me to say, but she knows a lot more than me, my dear,” he said. “Besides, it’s not like we have much of a choice.”

“That’s… not exactly true,” Spike pointed out. “We could have Crescent put in hyperspace coordinates… jump like we did before.”

“I meant morally speaking,” Doctor Whooves said. “Think of it: how coincidental would it be that these Oblivion nightmares found this place right after we arrived?”

“You think they tracked us somehow?” Luna asked.

“Odds are in favor of it,” Doctor Whooves nodded.

"Warp Song..." Luna hissed, narrowing her eyes. "That bastard! I should have seen it sooner! This whole chain of events: from finding Crescent and her crew to being led here… it was probably exactly what he wanted!"

"Called it," Spike said, earning a glare from Crescent.

"Whatever happened happened," Crescent growled. "All that matters now is we get this ship ready for'a scrap." She gave Luna a pleading look. "And I can do that. Trust me."

"I do," Luna said. "Go!"

Crescent threw her a quick smile, before rushing off the bridge. Luna then turned her attention back to Flash. “You know far more than I about our chances. Do we have enough friendly ships to win this battle?”

“With just our three Void Frigates, my ship, the station and its strike craft?” Sonic said. “Probably not. But Luna, what you have there is an Oblivion Superdreadnaught. Sure, it’s old as Celestia--”

Luna raised her eyebrows. She wasn’t sure whether to take offense to that in her sister’s name.

“But the Empire kind of dipped out of tech advancements for a long time. Kinda went through a ‘dark age’. I’d say you gotta be worth a modern cruiser at least.”

“Military hardware isn't the only variable here,” Pharynx argued. "Remember who their commander is."

Luna gave him a skeptical look. “I never thought you would want to back down from a fight.”

Pharynx shot her a glare. “I’m not backing down. But we need to keep his strategic abilities in mind.”

“Luna and I know a thing or two about Song,” Flash said. “Not that that’s worth much when we’re talking about him. Friggin’ blood sucker’s a total tool, but a genius one.” He glanced between the two of them. “Look, I can’t give you exact odds, and we don’t have time to run a simulation. You’re kind of a wildcard here. If you want to jump away, I wouldn’t blame you. But I know you love a bit of poetry when it comes to a fight. Don’t you?”

‘An old rival teaming up with me against an old friend,’ Luna thought. ‘Poetic, indeed.’

“Maybe try things the NLR way, if you’re not sure?” Flash suggested. “What do your crew want to do?”

Luna paused at that. Did she have any right to--

“I say we stay and fight!” Spike interrupted. "Warp Song played us like a fiddle, but we've beat the Empire before!"

“Yeah, these Oblivion jerks need to be taken down another peg!” Derpy cried.

Doctor Whooves seemed more apprehensive. “There will be a cost to this, and I’m not talking materially. But like I said, this is likely our fault. We have an obligation to do it.”

Pharynx narrowed his red eyes. “To test our mettle against one of the greatest warriors of the ancient world? I can’t say no to this.”

Luna eyed her nervous looking pilot. “Ocellus?”

“I um…” she said, glancing away from her. “Well, what else can we do?”

“Very well, then!” Luna called. “May the night favor the bold! TO BATTLE! HUZZAH!”