“Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.” - Arthur C. Clarke
SIERRA/OSCAR/SIERRA
Captain Gregor was of the opinion that the EES Tempest was not a derelict. A derelict was a ship that was simply abandoned, it didn't matter what the circumstances were, merely that a ship was empty but not destroyed. Gregor had the feeling that the Tempest was a different story, and that nobody had survived whatever catastrophe had befallen it. It was a ghost ship, but more than that it was a corpse; the hull was pitted and scarred, the hangars were shut, and the weapons were in combat positions. Most concerning, however, was the distress beacon. It had led them here and had gone silent the exact moment that Gregor's ship, the Lucky Card, had detected the Tempest itself. He wanted to run, to turn away and never look back, but he needed the money and military grade equipment would fetch a hefty price, regardless of condition.
"Fuck it, let's get it done." He sighed and turned away from the view screen.
-∆-
There isn't turbulence on a shuttle, not usually. If it starts shaking then you're pretty much fucked cause it means either something got shot or the mechanics didn't do their jobs properly. Bleeding Heart looked around the inside of the shuttle, it was mostly empty to leave room for salvage, but what space that was filled was occupied by her comrades. She saw some earth ponies, a few pegasi like herself, and even a hippogriff. No unicorns though, corporate didn't much like hiring unicorns for field work; without pegasi magic, earth pony resilience, or other species natural strength unicorns just couldn't handle the acceleration for long. Great for desk work though. There wasn't the usual banter going around, this wreck was making everybody nervous. They'd salvaged military ships before and while not exactly legal it was certainly worthwhile. But the Tempest was something else, she had only been missing for a little more than a month, and she was a high-profile ship. Everybody in the Ecumene wanted to know what had happened to one of the greatest warships ever seen. When Heart had seen Tempest on the display, however, she decided that she actually really didn't want to know, the frozen masses of vented gasses certainly didn't bode well. The retro thrusters fired as they completed their approach.
The shuttle didn't shake.
Heart took a deep breath as she heard the echoing clunk of the docking clamps, 'so we decided to knock', she thought. The team leader, a brown griffon named Gary, stood, put on his helmet, and walked to the door controls. As she too secured her helmet his voice crackled over the radio; "Listen up! In and out, grab anything that looks salvageable and come back! Remember; teams of two!" He pressed a button on the console and the light above the docking door turned from red to green and the door slid open. As soon as it was fully open the shuttle's power shut off, the only light came from flashlights mounted on everybody's suits, Gary had just enough time to get out a "What the Fuck?" Before he was dragged into the Tempest's darkened hatch.
Then the screaming started.
-∆-
Dream Valley was known across the Ecumene for its natural beauty, it looked like something right out of a fantasy book, named after something fantastical as well. It brought wonder and awe, and many ponies never wanted to leave.
The thick growth also made it perfect for hiding things, in this case a corpse. He'd need to wait for an on-site medical examiner to determine the precise cause of death, but Keen Eye was fairly confident that foul play was involved. If he was right then how the poor bastard had died was less important than why he died; Keen could tell he'd been skinny, and he didn't have any merchandise from the tourist traps. Probably a local, down on his luck. Dream Valley was expensive to visit, cheap to live in; guests didn't show ribs like the locals did.
"Hey Pokey!"
Keen sighed as he heard his partner, Inferno, a dragon with a very poor grasp of what was socially acceptable and who had a pension for annoying nicknames.
"I fucking told you to stop calling me that, one of these days somebody's gonna put a bullet in ya."
"Hey, it's not my fault your horn is your most distinctive feature."
"That's not the... Ah nevermind, what do ya make of this poor shit?"
Inferno gave the corpse a good look and sniffed the air "I don't smell any blood, but he looks too healthy to have just keeled over, I'm gonna guess poison, probably a homemade neurotoxin."
"Well, let's get him inside and have Doc take him apart."
-∆-
Being a freelancer paid well, really well. Any job that has you putting your life on the line pays enough to make it worth the risk. Sometimes though, you get a job that is so incredibly pointless that you question why you're doing this. But hey, time with family is time with family, at least, that's what Crack Shot was thinking as his twin, Long Shot, briefed him on the details of their newest job.
"So you're telling me that this mare, Broken Heart-" "Bleeding Heart" "-Bleeding Heart, left mommy and daddy's cushy home to seek adventure."
"Yes."
"And she didn't check in with the parents who, by their own admission, were so controlling that she joined a fucking salvage crew to get away."
"That is correct."
"And, because of that, they want us to find their daughter and bring her home, regardless of the circumstances."
"Absolutely."
Crack simply stared at his brother for a moment before speaking again. "Why?" Long rolled his eyes before responding "Because they are paying a shit ton of money."
"Oh. Ok."
Long sat down and put a hoof across Crack's withers. "Look, I know you feel like we're being asked to force a pony into a life they hate, and maybe we are, but two point five million units plus hazard pay is not something we can pass up, regardless of our feelings. Just, do it for me. Ok?"
"Fine fine, I'll do it."
"Don't worry, after this we'll be set, you'll see."
-∆-
/Playback Initialized/
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/Begin Playback/
-"Captain's log number 38. We have been traveling for several days, and so far incidents are at a minimum; I'm not sure if that's because I have a good crew or of it's because everybody is scared shitless. Regardless, the mission is going well and we will reach the objective within three days. That is the current status of the mission, however, I would like to express my concern that a warship might not be the best option in this particular instance. Sending the [REDACTED] might have been overkill.
This is [REDACTED] of the [REDACTED], signing off."-
/Playback ends/
-Continue?-
[Y]/[N]
Author's Note
Let's make some magically hard sci-fi, shall we? This chapter serves as a sort of 'meet the crew' chapter. This story will draw inspiration from a lot of places, but mostly The Expanse and Halo.
