Homeworld: Equestria

Chapters

2: The Fourth
3: The Eye
4: Lunar Strike
5: Flagship
6: Trials and Tribulations
7: Raids and Ransacks
8: The Minaret of Kadesh
9: Prophecy
10: Midnight's Log
11: Turquoise Nebula
12: Integration
13: Liir's Transmission
14: Betrayal
15: Confrontation
Epilogue
1: Landfall
16: The End Time

2: The Fourth

PRE-START LEVEL 4 SYSTEMS ANALYSIS

PRIMARY POWER: ONLINE
AUXILIARY POWER: ONLINE
LIFE SUPPORT: ONLINE
MAIN DRIVES: ONLINE
MANOEUVRING THRUSTERS: ONLINE
WAKE-JUMP DRIVE: ONLINE
DORSAL FLAK CANNON: ONLINE
VENTRAL FLAK CANNON: OFFLINE
WEAPON SUB-SYSTEMS: ONLINE
INERTIAL DAMPENING SYSTEMS: ONLINE
NAVIGATION: ONLINE
SENSORS ARRAY: ONLINE
HULL INTEGRITY: WITHIN ACCEPTABLE TOLERANCES

ANALYSIS COMPLETE

BEGIN STARTUP SEQUENCE

The grounds of Canterlot vibrated lightly as several thousand tonnes of metal groaned to life. After the crude clamps of the dock decoupled from Manaan, the frigate drifted lazily away from the castle while maintaining altitude. Though atypical behaviour, Captain Soban had been overly cautious during the entire process. A failure of either the fusion power plant, or the ion-drive engines would send Manaan and its occupants spiralling down to their deaths.

Convinced everything seemed to hold, the Captain plotted a course towards the plains referenced in Twilight’s novel while maintaining a relatively slow speed. Although a flak frigate could cruise at almost 600 kilometres an hour with no drag, Captain Soban kept velocity to a minimum, at least initially. This allowed him to carry out further examinations of primary and secondary systems, and it gave the makeshift crew some extra time to learn as much as they could about their stations through observation. A strict ‘do not touch’ rule was enforced unless ordered otherwise. Somepony inadvertently firing a flak shell or jettisoning volatile equipment could spell gruesome disaster for anything caught within the blast radius.

As Manaan proceeded further away from Canterlot, Soban reminisced over the events of the previous weeks. A major part of him knew that trusting a group of strange creatures to run his ship was downright insane. On the other hand, had he not done so, his only other alternative would have likely been to spend the rest of his life on this planet. A fate the Captain secretly did not mind.

Despite suspecting impaired judgement, these ponies had too much enthusiasm and joy, along with such unique personalities, that Soban could not come up with a single reason not to trust them beyond their inexperience. Even in the interviews he held for his potential shipmates, the Captain enjoyed meeting each new member, partaking in especially long conversations with several ponies, some of whom showed much promise. Each new member was as special and fascinating as the last, and he couldn’t help but grin foolishly as he replayed many moments in his mind.

He broke out of his reverie when he noticed Twilight and her friends, remembering why they were on board in the first place. “So, Elements of Harmony, huh?” Soban addressed the six mares who had been watching the scenery roll by them below. “I’m not sure I fully understand it. From what I’ve read, it sounds more like a weapon, than objects that actually maintain harmony.”

Twilight stepped forward. “Well, not exactly. The magic behind it is complex. It’s not as if anypony can pick up an Element and use it. The Elements of Harmony only work when all six ponies have the defining characteristics reflective of whichever Element they use. Even if one of the six do not meet that criteria, the Elements will fail completely.”

“So it has a few safeguards. It still sounds like a weapon. Perhaps one activated by the good intentions of the users, but a weapon nonetheless,” Soban retorted. “Suppose you are forced to use the Elements against your will, or are manipulated and convinced that something evil is actually the right thing to do. Elements of Harmony, no more.”

“I … suppose,” Twilight hesitated. “I can’t see that ever happening though. The Elements are kept safe with the Princesses and would only be used with their express permission.”

Soban shrugged. “Anything is a possibility.”

“Are you implying something about our Princesses there, Cap’?” Rainbow Dash zoomed towards the Captain and hovered mere centimetres from his face.

“You must be the Element of Loyalty,” Soban smiled. “I respect that quality in a man. Or mare. Regardless, no, I was not implying anything, but part of my job is to analyse things from multiple perspectives and look at all possibilities, no matter how improbable or insignificant.”

“Easy there, fella,” Applejack tugged on Rainbow’s tail. “Ya don’t wanna tick off the alien with the big spaceship thingy now, do ya?”

“It’s not that big,” Rainbow Dash huffed.

Captain Soban chuckled. “True, this is only one of our frigate class vessels. It’s the third smallest class of military vessel we use. However, our battlecruisers are almost a kilometre in length. Bigger isn’t always better though. Sometimes speed is more important.”

Rainbow folded her forelegs. “Well there’s something we can agree on.”

“Speaking of which, I think it should be safe to push our drives to their limits …”

According to Manaan’s readouts, no anomalies or noteworthy issues arose as the Captain ordered the slow and steady speed increments to maximum drive output. Despite the amateur repair work, the engines responded beyond expectations, only falling short of their true potential by a small percentage. Soban attributed this to atmospheric drag, rather than any shortcomings from the power plant.

“We still have about an hour before we arrive in the general region,” Soban commented. “You’re all welcome to use any of the crew quarters if you’d like, or you can stick around for the weapons tests.”

“I think I shall retire to one of your suites,” Rarity announced. “I’m not one for explosions, loud noises, and the like. Please inform me once we have arrived,” she finished, stepping off the bridge.

“I … think I’ll do the same,” Fluttershy added, slinking out after Rarity.

Twilight’s eyes darted across the skies. “Now, are you sure about this, Captain? If there are any pegasi nea—”

“Relax Twilight, the ship’s sensors can pick up heat signatures, small objects, radiation and almost anything else you can throw at them. Now unless pegasi have cloaking technology … well, that’s another issue. Uhh, Equestria doesn’t have cloaking technology, right?”

Twilight shook her head, while Soban notified his weapons crew over the internal communications system.

“Nova, Firelance, are you two ready down there? Let’s start off with a manual control of the cannon. Rotate it all the way around and then up and down ninety degrees.”

“Sure thing, Captain,” the gruff voice of Firelance replied.

…

“Perfect, everything looks normal over here,” Soban remarked, as he focused on a readout displaying weapons information. “Now load and fire a single shell at that small cloud, slightly above and to our right. Seven degrees starboard. Remember to select the correct distance, or the shell will detonate at the wrong time. I’ll slow us down for an easier shot.”

“Cannon loaded. Aligned, aaaaannnd …”

The sound of a single muffled blast echoed throughout the interior of Manaan as the flak shell accelerated out of the topside turret at high velocity towards the small cumulus cloud, detonating nearby and tearing the cloud into numerous smaller chunks. Applejack and Rainbow Dash cheered, while Pinkie Pie bounced around Twilight, who merely flinched at the momentary light show.

“Nice aim, Firelance,” Soban remarked. “You were off by two or three degrees, but the blast still took care of it. Now Nova, load another round, set the turret tracking back to automatic and target the next cloud.”

“But the nearest one is over four hundred metres away!”

“That’s not a problem. We can shoot even further if we wanted to.”

“Alright, the system is tracking, and the cannon is good to go.”

“Fire when ready.”

Compensating for the speed of the frigate, the turret deviated a fraction of a degree from the cloud situated abeam the warship, launching the next shell shortly after. Direction and distance were calculated to near perfection, as the shell entered the heart of the cloud, obliterating it in a brilliant display of pyrotechnics.

“Great work you two! You’d make fine gunners! Let’s try some more challenging targets …”

“Alright, playtime is over. We’re approaching our destination. Start scanning.”

Although referred to as plains, the area Manaan begun a search pattern around was more akin to a desert with rocky plateaus and mesas randomly scattered throughout the region, along with the odd cactus littered here and there. It didn’t take long for the sensors to return a positive result, through considering the size of the contact, no ship could have missed it.

“I—I think I have something. Something really big!” Zenith, a copper-coated Earth pony on navigation and sensors reported. “Thirty-nine degrees port, approximately fifty metres underground and … one hundred and fifty metres in length!”

“Sounds promising,” Soban replied. “Let’s do a quick flyby first, then set down nearby and check it out.”

Manaan’s sensors indicated the object was situated within a nearby mesa, one with anomalies in its composition. As Manaan set itself down on top, sending a cloud of sand and dust in to the air, it was clear this was no ordinary mesa. The long, low echo heard even from within Manaan suggested whatever they had landed on was neither solid, nor rock.

“Nova, you and Firelance should keep the flak cannon ready,” Soban ordered, before turning to the others. “Twilight, you and your friends meet me at the armoury. I’ll get Rarity and Fluttershy. Everyo—Everypony else, stay at your stations.”

The Captain split off from Twilight, Rainbow, Applejack, and Pinkie shortly after exiting the bridge, as he made his way towards the crew quarters. Inspecting each room, he eventually found Fluttershy, knocking lightly and eliciting a barely audible ‘eep’ from her.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Have you seen Rarity? We have arrived.”

“Oh, well she is in the, umm … big room.”

“Big—my quarters?” Soban sighed. “Alright, let’s go get her.”

“So, what are we doing here?” Fluttershy trotted beside Soban. “Twilight didn’t really explain much.”

“Ahh, I’m not sure, actually. All we know is that your Elements might somehow be connected to whatever it is we have come to investigate, so Twilight must have figured you might be useful together. I don’t know, this whole Elements thing and ‘magic’ is all new to me.”

Soban approached his quarters, purposefully knocking hard upon the open metal door as he spotted the white unicorn sprawled over his bed in a most unladylike fashion.

“WAHAHA! Captain Soban! Do you not know it is rude to disturb a lady while she is resting?”

“No offence ma’am, but you are in my quarters, and you did ask me to let you know of our arrival.”

“You could have at least made a little less noise,” Rarity pouted. “Besides, your bed is sooo much more luxurious than those abominations in the other rooms. How can you live with yourself, knowing your crew suffer like that?”

“I’m not the one who designed this vessel,” Soban shrugged, as he motioned Rarity to follow him.

The other four mares were casually conversing outside the armoury when Soban arrived with the other two in tow. As he searched for equipment, he addressed his new exploratory team. “Here’s the plan: Whatever we landed on seems to be metal underneath, so it’s not a natural formation. It’s not completely solid either, so something might be within. We will disembark, search for an entrance, then take a look around inside.

Removing a pair of elongated devices from locked stowages, Soban offered one ot each unicorn. “Twilight, Rarity, take a pulsar rifle. I doubt we will need them as this place was probably abandoned thousands of years ago, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. Keep that safety lock on, unless I tell you otherwise, ensure you don’t accidentally squeeze the trigger with your magic, and under no circumstances are you to point your rifles near any of us. Best keep it pointed at the ground when not in use.”

Levitating her rifle closer, Twilight nodded. “Got it.”

“What about the rest of us? I want a cool gun too!” Rainbow Dash piped up.

“Sorry Rainbow, but unless you have fingers or telekinetic abilities, there’s no way you will be able to pull the trigger on one.”

“Ahh ponyfeathers!” Rainbow stomped a hoof on the ground.

“Everypony should also take a headset, and a pair of night-vision goggles. They aren’t designed for your heads, but I think they should still fit well enough to work. I’ll take a few glow-sticks as well—”

“Ooh, no need! I brought my own!” Pinkie reached around behind her and pulled out a large bundle of glow-sticks. “I also brought a turntable, some speakers and wide selection of music for an emergency dance party!” she continued, pulling out and returning each item in succession.

“Where do you keep all of that?” Soban paced around Pinkie in a futile attempt to locate her possessions.

“With me, silly!” Pinkie bounced away towards the airlock.

Soban opened his mouth, before Twilight stopped him, with ‘don’t ask’ written all over her face.

“Okay, let’s get a radio check. Can you all hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Ah-huh.”

“Yup.”

“Aye-aye, Captain!”

“Indeed.”

“Umm …”

“Excellent! Nova, you reading us all in there?”

“Loud and clear. We’re ready for anything!”

“Hopefully you won’t need to be,” Soban responded, resting his rifle on his shoulder. “Alright ladies, let’s fan out. Look for anything on the ground indicative of an entrance.”

The moment Soban finished his sentence, Rainbow Dash took off, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake while Pinkie Pie zipped around in anything but a methodical fashion and the others went searching in their own directions. Although it was impossible to get lost on the flat top of the mesa, searching almost five hectares of land was a challenge in itself.

Fifteen minutes later, Applejack called out from the edge of the mesa, “Captain! Ah think there’s somethin’ over here!”

The entire group rushed towards Applejack, who had been tracing out grooves in the ground. By the time the others arrived, she had finished creating the outline to a large square hatch, roughly four metres each way.

“Now how do we get in? Ah can’t see no door handle or keyhole,” Applejack added, while Soban cleared the dirt and sand away, placed his ear to the hatch and hit it with his fist several times at different locations.

“Well it’s definitely an entrance of some kind, so we should be able to open it somehow.” Soban stood up and dusted himself off, before turning to Twilight. “You should be able to teleport in and find a way to open it from the other side.”

“What?” Twilight stepped back. “Oh, no no no, I can’t do that. If I don’t know where I’m going to appear, I might end up in a wall!”

“Trust me on this, Twilight. This door is no thicker than my arm. See where I’m standing? I want you to appear two metres underneath me. If there’s no light inside, your rifle has a torch on it. Look around for some kind of controls, or a panel nearby. If you can’t find one, come back out and take us inside anyway.”

“What if it’s just a long shaft in there? I could hurt myself!” Twilight retorted.

Applejack snickered. “Take Rainbow with ya, then. She won’t have a problem if there’s a—heh, long shaft inside.”

“Ahh, shut your hay hole, AJ!” Rainbow snapped. “She’s right, though, Twi. I should probably hold on to you in case there’s a long drop, or something.”

“O—Okay, then I think I’m ready.” Twilight gulped. “One … Two … Thr—”

*POOF*

Soban tapped his headset a few seconds after the unicorn and pegasus disappeared in a bright purple flash. “Twilight? Can you hear me?”

…

“Yes. Yes I can. Give me a moment.”

A low grumbling noise accompanied the sliding motion of the hatch as it parted, the vibrations causing nearby pebbles to dance, and dirt around the frame to fall in to the cavity that was revealed, sending Twilight into a coughing fit as she tried to fan away the cloud of sand and soil. As the airborne particles settled, Soban descended the short stairwell within, while the others followed suit.

“Interesting. This place has power,” Soban muttered. “Nice work Twilight. Now all of you, get behind me and stay close. Pinkie, drop a glow-stick here please. We’ll need it if one or more of us get lost.”

The brilliant, fluorescent green glow-stick put Hiigaran military-grade glow-sticks to shame, as it provided a source of light that illuminated a significant section of the long, narrow passageway. Captain Soban held his rifle at the ready, while the nervous six remained behind him, with Twilight bringing up the rear and occasionally scanning the area behind her. Eventually, the group reached the end of the passageway, stepping on to a large round platform. A small console stood in the centre.

“So, what now?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“Now?” Soban hummed. He looked over the symbols printed on the console’s buttons for a few seconds, before stating, “We go down.” As it became all too obvious they were in an elevator, he pressed one of the buttons and waited for the machine to come alive.

A low whine reverberated throughout the elevator shaft as the platform descended sluggishly. As the floating surface arrived at its destination after a couple of minutes, the ensuing silence was broken only by the quickened breaths of Twilight, and Fluttershy’s racing heartbeat, as all seven briefly remained motionless. Despite the pitch black darkness interrupted only by each rifle’s beam of light, and the eerie uncertainly of being alone, Soban pressed on, taking step by cautious step.

“Pinkie, another glow-stick over here, please.”

The group headed past several corridors, as Soban glanced briefly at each passageway, heading down one as his eyes became fixated on a faint glow that emanated from a large room nearby. As they entered, they doused their lights on the source of the glow. A large collection of consoles, panels and various other electronic devices greeted them. Soban inspected everything in detail.

“I’m going to hazard a guess that this is some kind of control room,” he began. “But controls for what? I haven’t got a clue. Who knows what these d—NO NO PINKIE, DON’T—”

With a glow-stick in her mouth, the living incarnation of a permanent caffeine high pushed random buttons and played with levers and sliders as if she were the DJ from Soban’s welcoming party. By the time the Captain had restrained her, a pair of rusty metal shutters on the windows at the far end of the control room retracted, revealing a massive chamber. A single object stood within it, no doubt that which Manaan’s sensors had detected. The lack of significant lighting only resulted in the visibility of the object’s rough outline.

“Whoah, what is that thing?” Rainbow Dash tilted her head to one side.

Soban frowned. “I’m not sure. I think it’s a ship. We need more light. I wonder if any of these—”

“Ooh, I bet these turn on the lights!” Pinkie piped up.

“Hey, what did I just say about—you did, didn’t you?”

“It’s working, isn’t it? Look!”

Captain Soban turned around in time to witness the lighting within the gigantic chamber turn on systematically. As each light activated, the object became increasingly visible, until its outline and larger details were further defined.

The wide but shallow object would have been just about rectangular in its frontal profile, were it not for two roughly half-oval voids on each side that gave the object a striking appearance of a pair of thick prongs on either end. In the centre, nestled between the two pronged sections, sat a large round dome.

“Kiith’s blood!” Captain Soban gasped, dropping his rifle.

He refused to believe what stood majestically in front of him. Despite everything he had known, everything he and every other Hiigaran believed, there he stood, within the presence of the fourth ancient hyperspace core.

“Captain?” Fluttershy gently prodded the catatonic Soban with her hoof. “Captain, are you alright?”

Soban was speechless, his mouth agape.

“What’s the big deal?” Rainbow Dash waved a hoof dismissively. “Your ship is way cooler anyway.”

“You—You don’t understand,” Soban finally spoke up. “That is no ship. That is a device allowing ships to travel vast distances through space. A hyperspace core. Bu—But this? This makes no sense!”

“Can somepony please tell me what is going on?” Rarity spoke up.

Soban shook his head and returned to reality. “Later. Our objectives haven’t changed. We need to retrieve that core. The core got in, so there must be a way out. Perhaps a—”

“Got it!” Pinkie yelled, slamming her hoof on another button, causing the entire complex to rumble, as a pair of massive doors opened up above the core.

“Alright Twilight, get us back up to the surface,” Soban ordered, picking up his rifle. “We need to find a way to get this core back to Canterlot.”

Due to the sheer size of the core, ferrying it back with Manaan was simply impossible, so the next best alternative was conceived.

“Twilight, you remember how my ship ended up in Canterlot, yes?” the Captain began. “That is, with the Princess moving it there from the forest? Well I’m going to ask Princess Celestia to do the same thing with the core. I’m sorry you six weren’t needed today,” he continued while he powered up Manaan’s drives. “I’m sure you all had better things to do. The least I can do is to take a detour and drop you all off at Ponyville before I return to Canterlot.”

“Now do you mind explaining what happened down there, and why this ‘core’ of yours is so special?” Rarity enquired. “I shan’t consider this a wasted day if I have an explanation at the very least.”

“It’s a long and complicated story,” Soban began. “Many millennia ago, an ancient race known as the Progenitors thrived in our galaxy. It was they who forged the hyperspace cores. Everything we know suggests only three cores were created. This made sense, considering a Progenitor ship named after the god Sajuuk, which is our current flagship, contains a triangular section near its engines. Well, it’s a hexagon that looks like a triangle, but that’s irrelevant. Within this section, three hollow pits house a single core each. No historical evidence has ever even hinted the possibility of a fourth core. Here, I can bring up a video of Sajuuk …”

At almost five kilometres in length, the enigmatic ship could be more accurately described as an astronomical cannon strapped to an engine. Sure enough in the aft section sat the triangular compartment where the cores themselves powered the vessel. A path of exterior components zigzagging along each side of the behemoth served as tracks spanning the distance between the core section and the business end of the super-weapon.

As its cannon charged, a sparkling, golden aura travelled the path, ultimately lighting up the entire track as the phased cannon array unleashed the wrath of the ship’s namesake, completely penetrating the hulls of several vessels unfortunate enough to get caught in the beam.

“Cool! What kind of alien monsters did you have to battle to take that thing?” Rainbow asked, punching the air with her forehooves.

“It was abandoned. In time, the Progenitors disappeared from our galaxy. Perhaps from war or disease, we don’t know. As they faded away, many of their creations became lost in our galaxy, including Sajuuk and the cores. Eventually, different races discovered the cores, bringing gifts and curses with them. Sajuuk was obtained recently when another race waged war to steal our core, and another race’s, so they could awaken and take Sajuuk for themselves. Those who owned the first core sacrificed the last of their people to save us from the automated Progenitor ships that pursued us relentlessly. They gave us their core, and in the final stages of the war, we defeated the enemy flagship and obtained Sajuuk.”

“I’m guessing that explains your confusion as to why a fourth core exists, and what possible purpose it might have, yes?” Twilight asked, to which Soban nodded. “Hmm …”

It was well into the afternoon when Manaan approached Ponyville. Captain Soban decided to fly around the town rather than over it to avoid bothering the locals with the deafening noise of five ion-drive engines, as they set down at Sweet Apple Acres. One by one, the bearers of the Elements disembarked and said their goodbyes, until Twilight remained.

“Captain, do you mind if I return to Canterlot with you? I might have a few theories on this fourth core predicament, but I will require some information on the Progenitors from your ship’s computer, and a visit to the Canterlot archives.”

“Sure. I’ll be waiting on the bridge if you want to say goodbye to the others. See you another time, you five!” Soban nodded at the other mares as he left.

It didn’t take long for Manaan to resume its journey towards the capital. Though Soban was curious as to what theories Twilight had, she refused to divulge any information, as each theory seemed more far-fetched than the last. Instead, she poured over the data stored on Manaan’s computer for the duration of the trip.

Upon arrival, Princess Celestia stood ready to greet the Captain and his crew, while the noise of the approaching vessel attracted a crowd of onlookers. Though Celestia expected all to disembark, only Twilight and the Captain emerged. After a brief explanation of the events that had transpired, the Princess boarded the frigate while Twilight headed off.

Captain Soban broke the long silence after Manaan had left Canterlot for the second time, “Princess, do you mind if I ask you an odd question?”

“Not at all. Ask away.”

“You seem almost too comfortable with some alien flying around your land in a giant killing machine, going so far as to assist me with the retrieval of a powerful artefact. How do you know I won’t just turn on you once I have a way back home? In fact, how do you know my fleet won’t suddenly appear in the sky to destroy your planet? I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but we do have a massive technological advantage over Equestria and there are plenty of valuable resources here. Basically, why are you helping me?”

The princess did not answer immediately, staring outside as she formulated her reply. “Technology is not the only form of power, my dear Captain. It may be yours, but ours stems from magic, something that takes many forms. Even harmony, friendship, unity, and love are forms of magic, all more powerful than you think. In fact, such magic is underestimated by many, becoming the downfall of several evils who have threatened Equestria. While I would never welcome a conflict between us, we would most certainly present a challenge for all who would oppose us.”

The Princess paused, removing her gaze from the pristine landscape and turning towards the Captain. “As for you? At the end of the day, you are lost and trapped here. You have come to trust us as much as we have come to trust you. The proof is all around you, with the ponies who have enthusiastically agreed to run your ship. If and when you reunite with your people, our cooperation would serve as a foundation for good relations between us, and that can only be beneficial to us both.”

“I’ll admit even now, I don’t see such magic to be particularly powerful, even if there are some useful things you can do, but I’ll take your word on it. Still, I can’t say I’m convinced this is actual ‘magic’. There has to be a more scientif—”

“Captain, can you, uhh … Can you take a look outside and confirm something?” Nova’s nervous voice suddenly rang through the bridge. “I’m seeing a bunch of dots on my screen ahead of us.”

…

“ALL STOP!”

Manaan whined and pitched down slightly, as the engines brought the vessel to an abrupt halt. Sensors picked up multiple contacts on closing vectors, already within visual range. A detailed scan of the flying objects revealed all too familiar details of nine ships approaching in formation. Each ship was smaller than Manaan and had the suggestive appearance of two smaller ships combined to create the top and bottom section of a larger vessel. Soban knew better, as the bottom section was an engine, while the top section contained a rapid fire plasma cannon, and a device used to attach itself to larger objects.

“Movers. This complicates things,” Soban muttered, turning to Celestia. “Time to see just how powerful this magic of yours is, Princess. I have an idea …”

The shrill alarm of battle status rang throughout the ship, signifying the first real test of Manaan and its crew against a threat. Captain Soban took a deep breath and paused momentarily, before issuing the orders.

“Ahead full! Nova, Firelance, get that flak cannon fully loaded and target the lead craft! Fire only on my command.”

“Y—yes Captain!” Nova replied.

“We will be in their weapons range within twenty seconds … ten seconds … three, two, now, Celestia!”

The skies rumbled as Manaan materialised directly behind the delta formation of movers and unleashed a hailstorm of anti-fighter munitions upon the lead craft. The movers broke formation in retaliation, repositioning themselves for their counterattack. With just a few well-placed hits spelling certain death, Soban and Celestia worked together to weave between targets, repositioning in flashes to remain clear of the movers’ firing arcs.

The drawn-out battle continued, as Manaan fired relatively ineffective shells against the toughened hulls of the movers. Eventually, the hostiles started to plummet into the desert with each passing minute, until the skies were clear.

“Last mover down!” Zenith called out.

“We’re safe, everypony!” Captain Soban communicated to all on board, a chorus of cheering resounding throughout the frigate. “Couldn’t have done it without you, Princess. Princess? You alright?”

Princess Celestia had difficulty standing, swaying and panting as Zenith guided her to a seat. “I’m fine. J—just exhausted. Please don’t make me do that again.”

“I don’t think I’ll have to. Sensors show nothing nearby.”

“What were … What were those things?”

“They are one of the computer-controlled ships designed to maintain larger Progenitor vessels and installations. They are also designed to attack any foreign technology. We probably woke them up earlier when we entered that facility, and they must have been guarding it since.”

“Are there any more? More importantly, are they a risk to my subjects?” Celestia asked, a look of concern plastered on her face.

“I cannot say for certain. Being computer-controlled, they are predictable, and from other encounters, they have been shown to attack almost all at once. If there were more, they probably would have arrived by now. Whether they are a risk? They prioritise attacks based on how advanced the foreign technology is, so my ship would be in greater danger than anything else. We can discuss this later though. Are you up for one last teleport with the core?”

“Yes, I think so. I can keep the core somewhere temporarily while I commission some extra scaffolding to hold it near your docking area.”

“No. Keep it close, but away from any populated area. If more movers arrive, lives may be put at risk. Don’t worry about my ship, I’ll see you back in Canterlot.”

Captain Soban lowered Manaan in to the mouth of the core’s chamber, allowing Celestia to leap off the ship and glide down towards the core. Within seconds, a flash of light enveloped her and the core, leaving naught but an empty cavity within the artificial mesa.

“Alright crew, mission accomplished. Let’s head home. Nova, Firelance? I don’t know about you guys, but I could go for a good drink right about now.”

3: The Eye

The occasional roars of laughter interrupted the background music of a local pub as Captain Soban told his fourth war story about the mopping up of a small Imperial Taiidan destroyer fleet to a pair of cobalt-blue-coated pegasi. As they conversed, Soban noted a striking similarity between the two, with the exception of their three-toned manes and tails. Each pony’s set of mane and tail colours reminded the Captain of electric blue pulsar beams and fire red plasma lances. Despite the resemblance to one another, Nova and Firelance insisted they were not related.

“… No no, that’s not the end of it either,” Soban continued between swigs of hard cider. “After the mass confusion and the two destroyers accidentally tearing each other new air vents, our carrier launched ten probes behind them on collision courses with their engines, each painted with the word ‘SUPPOSITORY’!”

Beer erupted from Firelance’s nostrils while Nova struggled to contain himself, slamming his hoof on the table repeatedly.

Soban paused while the laughter subsided. “Anyway, from that day forward we coined the term ‘probe golfing’. We would do it from hundreds of kilometres away just to mess with the enemy.”

“Just when I thought you couldn’t top the story with the toilet infiltration!” Nova wiped a tear out of his eye. “I’d love to listen to those audio logs, ohoho! Keep the stories coming, mate. We got nothing remotely interesting as night guards.”

“Are you two those guards who wear the gold armour and funny brush things on their heads?”

“Hah, no way,” Nova replied. “According to a pal of mine who works as one of Luna’s grunts, their work is twice as boring, and their pay isn’t even impressive. Nope, ‘Lance and I can be found near banks, malls, and pretty much any place where a heap of money is held.”

“Yep, it’s how we met,” Firelance added, as he finished cleaning himself up. “Unlike the royal guards, we don’t have to be a bunch of disciplined, uptight statues. The night shifts can be long and painfully boring, so us guards are all well acquainted with one another. I see no reason why we can’t talk amongst ourselves and work at the same time.”

“How exactly do you juggle your job with being aboard my ship anyway?”

“Pfft, we just told the boss we were going on holiday,” Firelance went on, spilling some beer as he waved his tankard around callously. “That ship of yours is like our second home now. Hay, if Nova had no wife or kids, I’d put fifty bits down on him being permanently glued to your cannon.”

“You can pay for the next round with those bits, pal, because I’d certainly not be glued to it.” Shooting a glare at Firelance, Nova then turned to the Captain. “He’s just jealous because he only has a goldfish to talk to at home.”

“You better not be talkin’ ‘bout my Boris! ‘Sides, he’s the only family I need. Beats the hassle of relationships and them darn foals. What about you, Cap’? Got a family?”

“Ahh, well I’m not with anyone if that’s what you’re asking. My Kiith is the closest I have to family. I think the best translation would be … Clan? Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Ooh, sounds so tribal!” Firelance remarked, downing the last of his lager. “Oh, I know! Let’s make our own Kiith! Just the three of us in it. And Boris.”

Nova rolled his eyes and peered over the Captain’s head as he read the nearby clock. “Ahh dangit, I should probably go. The missus doesn’t like me coming home too late. I’ll see you folks tomorrow!”

“Poor fella probably gets a rolling pin to the head from the ol’ ball and chain if he’s late,” Firelance chortled once Nova was out of earshot. “The night’s still young though. Barkeep! Another four over here!”

Captain Soban stumbled through the streets of Canterlot as he made his way towards his ship. It was likely past midnight when he finally arrived at the frigate and attempted to gain access multiple times without success.

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” an irritated Twilight called out behind Soban.

“Pardon me ma’am, but … I seem to have lost the keys to my spaceship!” Soban snickered. Twilight was not amused. “Oh wait, never mind. I figured it out.”

“Was this really the best time to go partying?” Twilight rolled her eyes, following Soban inside.

“Oh come on Twi, it was just a drink or twelve. Not like there’s much to do until you’ve done your reading stuff anyway.”

“That’s exactly why I’ve been trying to find you for the last”—Twilight pulled out a pocket watch—“four hours! You remember the theories I had? There’s a high probability one in particular is correct. I think there is a strong connection between the cores and—are you even listening to me?”

“Wha—?”

“Ugh! I’ll come back when you sober up!” Twilight exclaimed, frustrated. “Ugh!”

Six hours later, Soban emerged from his quarters, barely feeling the events of the previous night. Sure enough, the unicorn arrived like clockwork.

“Morning!” Twilight chirped, immediately dragging the Captain back to his quarters. “Sit. I went through every book, scroll, and scrap parchment that might have been remotely related to your core problem, and I believe I have found the answer. Funnily enough, the idea never hit me until I examined several images of Sajuuk for the better part of an hour …”

Twilight’s horn glowed, as a diagram appeared in mid-air. “This is a side view of Sajuuk. Look at the core section, and describe what you see.”

“I—Uhh, I see three circular pits. They … house the cores.” Soban replied, scratching his head. “Haven’t I explained this to you already?”

“Yes you have. Moving on.” Twilight materialised a second diagram. “This is Sajuuk from the other side. Look at the core section again and compare it to the other side. Do you notice a difference?”

“No?”

Twilight’s diagrams vanished. “To your understanding, these three—rather, four cores, were meant to be simultaneously utilised by Sajuuk, correct?”

“I suppose so. Before Sajuuk, our core was reverse engineered and retrofitted to power our old mothership, much like the other cores with their previous owners.”

“Great! We’re getting somewhere!” The two diagrams of Sajuuk appeared again, as Twilight zoomed in on Sajuuk’s aft sections. “Now look veeeeerrry closely at the core sections again and put the pieces of the puzzle together. Four cores. Sajuuk. But three circular pits within the core section, on both sides.”

“I really hope you aren’t going where I think you’re going with this Twilight.”

“So you understand now? There aren’t four hyperspace cores in existence after all. There aren’t even three. There are six!” Twilight finished with a triumphant stomp of her hoof on the metal floor.

Soban remained silent for a moment. “This raises far more questions than it answers. Where could the other two cores be? Why have we never known of their existence? And most importantly, if three awaken Sajuuk, what do another three do?”

“My guess is redundancy and supplementation. You said three cores ‘awaken’ Sajuuk, so perhaps that implies a minimum of three cores must be present for the ship to function. However, the next part of my theory identifies their true purpose. Are you aware a large pink gem shaped like a butterfly resides at the heart of the hyperspace core you recovered?”

Soban raised an eyebrow. “Uhh, no. Is that supposed to be releva—”

“Don’t you get it? This core is the Element of Kindness! Six cores. Six Elements. Six pits on Sajuuk. These are not hyperspace cores, not as their intended primary function. These are the Elements of Harmony!”

Soban shook his head. “That … That seems way too improbable Tw—”

“But it makes sense! Had I not seen the gem, I wouldn’t have even considered making that connection, but I see no other explanation for why it would even be in this device. We are dealing with the Elements of Harmony here and if what I’ve seen about Sajuuk’s current power is accurate, imagine what the Elements of Harmony could do as its cores! Surely your people have inspected the components of your cores, no?”

“Only our first core. I don’t think we’ve had a need to inspect the others yet. Now that I think about it, I remember something about a gemstone within the core, but it wasn’t a pink butterfly. It was a sapphire, and more or less round, looking a bit like a balloo— … No! No way!”

“I knew it! I was right!” Twilight celebrated, either oblivious or apathetic to the silliness of her little victory dance. “They are the Elements!”

“But—Okay, back up. Let’s assume they are. Explain to me what it is you have been using as the so-called Elements, then. What was it you and your friends used to stop several major threats to Equestria?”

“What you have to understand is that while the Elements of Harmony may be considered physical objects, whether they take the form of jewellery or a gigantic core, the true elements are already in each of us. These items, devices or whatever you want to call them, serve only to amplify what already exists here”—Twilight tapped her chest—“which makes sense, considering you must be a prime example of the Element you represent, otherwise all Elements fail. What I am unsure of is how the traits for any Element can be quantified in the first place.”

Soban shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. I certainly don’t have any other ideas that could put a hole in your theories.”

“What now, then?”

“Now?” Soban put his hands on his knees and stood up. “Now I’m going to have some breakfast.”

“Oh, perfect! You can explain to me why you put the Princess in harm’s way while you’re at it.”

“… So if you think about it, there was never any danger,” the Captain conversed, savouring the taste and smell of his tea. “Not for her, anyway. Worst case scenario, she abandons my ship. I’m prepared to hold out ‘till my dying breath, but I don’t expect non-combatants to do the same. Part of my job is to give others adequate time to prepare or escape, should such situations arise.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes at Soban, as she slowly chewed and swallowed another piece of toast. “I’m still not entirely convinced. What kind of protection does this ship have?”

“Well, our frigates have three layers. The outermost layer is designed to vaporise instantly at the site of an impact, causing deflections that dampen attacks. As you can see from the ship’s lack of paint, I burned that layer off, entering the atmosphere. The second layer is a thin, power-absorbing coat. Atmospheric entry and the resulting crash pretty much destroyed most of that as well. Finally, a crystal-polymer composite, interwoven with advanced ceramics, serves as the final layer. It’s also the primary armour, maintaining a perfect seal to protect us from the vacuum of space. That layer is in a good structural condition.”

“That’s it?” Twilight’s eyes widened. “No force fields, or—or deflector shields? Just a chunk of metal between you and what would be certain death in space? Where is all that powerful space technology of yours?”

Soban smiled at Twilight’s naive view on technology. “You’ve been reading too many sci-fi books, Twilight. We may be powerful, but we’re not invincible. Far from it. The closest thing we have to a ‘shield’ is a defence field, but because they don’t protect against all forms of attacks, they are highly impractical. As such, we rely on thicker armour instead.”

Twilight smirked. “Hmm. It seems like such a disadvantage, doesn’t it? Follow me to the bridge. You’ll definitely want to see this.”

After the pair entered the bridge, Twilight gestured the Captain to watch outside, as her horn glowed brightly. A moment later, a purple bubble encapsulated Manaan.

Soban laughed. “Twilight, am I seeing this right? Did you just create a shield for my ship?”

Twilight’s horn finished glowing, and the bubble faded. “Sort of. I don’t know if it’s strong enough to absorb damage in a fight though. The larger I make it, the weaker it gets. Plus I need to focus on it at regular intervals, otherwise the shield disintegrates. You should see my brother though. One time he created a giant shield around Canterlot for an extended period, and he didn’t even have to focus on it more than a few times in a day. Oh! I should bring him aboard! You’d like him. He’s a Captain too!”

“Well, having a shield would definitely help if it can allow us to enter the atmosphere without damaging the ship. When can you get him here? A journey to space has been long overdue now, but with nothing more than one last layer of armour, it would be a one way trip. This shield could be the answer to my problem.”

Twilight cocked her head to one side. “Oh? What could you possibly hope to achieve? Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to go out into space, but you’ve said it before; without a hyperdrive, you’re not going anywhere. What’s there for you nearby?”

“As you may recall, I arrived in this system via a network of hyperspace gates. While I cannot return through the gate without Sajuuk, I would like to try something else. One of the few things we know is that the gates communicate with each other, so if I can use the gate’s communications relay, I might be able to contact someone. If not, they also broadcast signals whenever they are damaged or tampered with, so the network can lock out the problematic gate while automatic repairs are initiated. I could exploit that, as my people monitor hyperspace gate activity and inspect such anomalies.”

“Sounds like a plan. Anything you need me to do?”

“Well if you’re volunteering, see if you can obtain four days worth of food and water. I’ll need your brother to be available, along with some of your best scientists. Doesn’t matter if they don’t know about technology or astronomy, as long as they are good at thinking and analysing.”

“I’ll get it all for you within three hours,” Twilight said, her horn once again glowing.

“Really? That seems a little—”

*POOF*

“… Quick.”

“… Cupcakes, apple pies, hay fries, apple juice, blueberry muffins … Couldn’t you find anything a little healthier?”

“Aww come on, they’re good! Here, try a muffin!” Twilight lifted the baked good and attempted to force it into the Captain’s mouth.

“Hey stop, okay, I’ll take your word for i—mmmph …”

…

“Wow, that’s not bad at all.”

Twilight smirked. “Told you.”

“Ahh, okay, I guess we are fine with rations then.” The Captain went back to inspecting his checklist, seizing an opportunity to sneak another muffin as Twilight searched for her passenger manifest. “So, I’ve plotted our course, system reports show green, and everypony seems to have settled in to their quarters. Speaking of which, how did you get so many white-coats on such short notice?”

“Are you crazy? For a chance to go into space? One of them abandoned an entire auditorium in the middle of a seminar on astrophysics! He was out before his papers fell to the ground!”

“You know Twilight, we didn’t have to leave so soon. While I am eager to get this over with, I’m not in a major rush.”

“From the moment I said ‘space’, everypony I talked to was. And … I might have been a little too eager myself,” she added, a slight blush following her drooping ears.

Soban shrugged. “Well if it’s all the same, I guess we can disengage the couplings and head on out. Zenith, may you?”

“Sure thing, Captain.”

Soban lifted a handset and spoke into an interphone. “This is Captain Soban to all personnel aboard. I trust you have all been informed about the upcoming few days, so get comfortable, as we will have a long journey ahead of us. In the meantime, prepare for departure. We will be leaving the atmosphere shortly.”

As Manaan moved away from the city and hovered over an unpopulated area, it pitched up until it was almost completely vertical. As soon as the frigate’s attitude stabilised, the main drives fired, and the vessel started to ascend at a gradual pace. The hour-long climb eventually came to an end, and the altitude readout indicated Manaan was back in its natural habitat.

“We’re in low orbit, Captain,” Zenith reported. “Shall I select our next heading?”

“Not yet. Let’s maintain orbit and face the planet for a while. I’m sure you’d like to see your world. Go ahead, take a look outside. I think we can also bring the others up to the bridge, a few at a ti—”

“Captain, we uhh, got some kind of problem with the flak cannon. Can you give us a hoof down here?” Nova interrupted over the radio.

Soban groaned. “Perfect timing. Alright, I’m on my way. Zenith, you’re in charge while I’m away.”

Turning towards the forward section of the ship, Soban navigated his way to the dorsal turret control compartment. Nova and Firelance were standing beside a smooth, metal column, when the Captain entered.

“I think the breech on the second barrel is jammed,” Firelance reported. “We’ve tried, but we can’t get it to slide open.”

The Captain approached the problematic component. “No signs of decompression contingencies being triggered,” he muttered, inspecting a nearby panel of lights. “Annunciator panel shows no warnings or cautions, either. Alright, let’s try it together. You two, pull the handle. I’ll push. Ready? One, two, THREE!”

…

“Dammit!” Soban panted. “What did you two do to this? Did you also tamper with the sealing mechanisms as—never mind, one more try. One, two, THR—AAAAH!”

The breech shot open. Confetti exploded. The head of a pink pony popped out from the opening, and Soban fell face first on to the floor, finding himself once again covered in streamers.

“SURPRISE!”

“What th—How did—What in Kharak are you doing in—HOW are you even alive?” the Captain yelled, mortified as he got back to his feet.

Soban regretted asking as soon as Pinkie’s mouth started moving faster than the tracking systems of a multi-gun corvette. “Oh that’s easy! I just wiggled in face first so the sides of my head made a seal, allowing me to breathe and then I just had to play the waiting game. I tell you, it’s a boring game because waiting is boring but now you’re here, and you, and you and we can all have fun with games like pull Pinkie from the big gun thingy! By the way space tickles. You should try it!”

Firelance leaned towards Nova. “Did you catch any of that?” he whispered.

“I think she said something about tickling the gun,” Nova responded. “Need help there Captain?”

Soban responded with a grunt as he freed one of Pinkie’s hooves and proceeded to tug, while Nova joined in. Eventually, Pinkie shot out with a loud ‘pop’, knocking the Captain back on the floor and landing nose to nose on top of him.

“Hi!”

“Pinkie. Please get off me.”

Pinkie scrambled to her hooves, scurrying off to some unknown part of the ship while giggling and snorting.

Soban remained on the floor, staring vacantly up at the ceiling. “That was interesting”

“My head hurts,” Firelance remarked.

“Good to go, Zenith? Great, let’s get this journey underway,” the Captain ordered several minutes after recovering mentally from earlier events.

Manaan adjusted its heading, increasing to its cruising speed. Eventually Soban allowed the navigational systems to take over the ship’s controls.

Twilight cleared her throat. “Now that we have time, there’s somepony I’d like you to meet, Captain.” She nodded to a large stallion behind her. Pure white, with a mane and tail containing three shades of blue, and a symbol of a star in a shield emblazoned on his chest, the very air around him rang with authority as he approached. “Captain Soban, this is my brother Shining Armour, Captain of the royal guard.”

Shining Armour shook Captain Soban’s outstretched hand. “It’s an honour to be aboard, sir.”

Soban waved his other hand dismissively. “Hey, we’re equally ranked officers. No need for the formalities. So, I heard you can make a mean shield. You mind if I ask for a demonstration?”

“Not at all.” A brief flash of light emitted from Shining Armour’s horn, creating a bubble similar to the one his sister created. As it materialised, he beamed with pride. “One of my specialities.”

“Impressive,” Soban complemented, despite no visual difference between Shining’s and Twilight’s bubbles. “There is a small cluster of asteroids in orbit around your planet from afar. The device hidden within it is our destination, but I would like to test your shield on some smaller rocks nearby, before we inspect the device. It would be interesting to see your shield in action.”

“Sounds like fun. Will that be all?”

The Captain nodded, then addressed Twilight as Shining Armour left the bridge. “Twilight, I was wondering if you could do me a favour. Can you please keep Pinkie away from me?”

“What? I wasn’t even aware she was on board.”

“Neither was I, until I pulled her out from the flak cannon! I swear I can smell my brain burning every time I try to make sense of anything she does.”

“The last time I tried to make sense of her, I literally caught fire. Trust me, it’s easier not to think about it. Besides, she might be a little over the top, but she’s still fun to hang around.”

“I mean no disrespect Twilight, but I think I’ve had enough fun for one day. It’s not that I don’t like her, but … Wow.”

“Aww she’s not that bad. You just need to get used to her. Pretty soon you’ll be walking around with an umbrella on your head whenever her tail twitches!”

Soban’s eye twitched instead. “Well at the risk of losing what little sanity I have remaining, I think I’m going to lie down for a bit. Call me if you need anything.”

“But it’s still afternoon!”

“Doesn’t matter in space,” he called out behind him, halfway towards the exit.

“Captain, wait.”

“Ugh, what?”

“You’ve got confetti in your ear.”

The Captain woke many hours later, comfortable with the fact that any issues, anomalies, or objects on intercepting vectors would have been reported immediately and directly to his quarters. The lack of such an event allowed Soban to enjoy a long nap. Throughout most of the journey, he preferred to remain within the confines of his quarters, brushing up on what little data was available on the Eye of Aarran and other Progenitor antiquities, emerging occasionally when Zenith, and her two relieving crew members were all asleep or unavailable to monitor the bridge.

Manaan was approximately two hours from its destination when Soban stepped back onto the bridge. Within minutes, Manaan would enter the sparse, outer debris field of the asteroid cluster. Shining Armour stood at attention the main window, staring out into the vastness of space, oblivious to the Captain’s entrance.

“I see you’re early, Shining. Eager to get started, are we?”

Shining Armour glanced behind and nodded. “What’s the plan?”

“To test your shield? Simple. We stop the ship just short of one of these smaller bits of debris, you put your shield up, we ram the debris, then we repeat with larger rocks until we find one that becomes a challenge to maintain the shield with. For safety, I won’t push it past that. As soon as it becomes too difficult for you, or there are obvious signs of shield failure, we stop. Got it?”

“Got it!”

“Great. Here’s a suitable first target. All stop! Do your thing, Shining.”

Shining Armour nodded, once again bringing up the spherical violet enclosure around Manaan. Another nod towards Captain Soban indicated he was ready for the next stage.

“Ahead full!”

Manaan accelerated, its engines whining as they output their maximum safe thrust, pushing the frigate closer and closer to a rock no larger than an outhouse, while Zenith monitored the distance. “Impact in three, two, one …”

The moment the shield made contact, the rock cracked and crumbled, shattering in to countless fragments and flying off in random directions. With a flick of his horn, Shining Armour repaired the minute crack that had appeared at the shield’s impact site.

The Captains continued their trials on increasingly larger asteroids over the course of twenty minutes. Each run had the same result, with the shield absorbing the impact and Shining repairing the resulting damage with his protective energy.

“Looks like your shield holds, Shining. Here’s a possible challenge. You ready?”

“Do it,” Shining Armour responded, as Manaan pointed towards a much larger asteroid, roughly the size of an apartment complex. Once again, the frigate ploughed its way through, crushing and splitting the asteroid up. Shining’s shield showed significant signs of wear, with an appearance of shattered glass along the entire forward half. Even the frigate’s inertial dampening systems struggled to compensate for the sudden change in velocity.

The Captain concluded that the shield could be maintained over a long period, but its weakness came from the inability to absorb a large amount of damage in one place at one time. However, it should allow Manaan to hold its ground over a larger swarm of movers, should there be further encounters.

Despite the limitation, Soban was only too happy to utilise such a tool, so he assured Shining Armour that he was impressed, even though Shining felt slightly disappointed in his capabilities. Soban however did not have time to give any further thought to him, as the two met up with the scientists to brief them on the upcoming mission.

“Listen up everypony! In half an hour we will arrive at our destination. Manaan will approach and stop mere metres from the hyperspace gate. Our first priority will be to find the communications relay and gain access to its systems. I don’t know if we need to explore deep within the device, or if it’s a simple matter of removing a cover to get to some electronics, but that’s our first goal. Once our primary directive is achieved, you can take whatever equipment you have brought with you to perform further analyses.”

“And how exactly will we do all that from here?” A maroon unicorn stepped forward.

“We don’t. We are going to take a little space walk. And before you start”—the Captain raised a hand to silence the worried and wide-eyed group—“we will of course be protected. Shining Armour will remain aboard to protect you from the lack of atmosphere. You will each take an oxygen tank, a headset, and anything else you may need. Shining will then create an airtight shield around each group exiting the vessel. Keep in mind the shield will stop you from touching anything. At least one unicorn should be in each group. Each unicorn should be able to move their group around and interact with objects using their telekinesis. Any questions? Alright get ready, we will arrive soon.”

“There it is! The Eye of Aarran!”

Hidden deep within the asteroid cluster, a long, massive complex floated amongst the rocks. At one end, a circular hole large enough for even mothership-class vessels to pass through, created the gateway to the other plane of space, thus giving rise to the term ‘Eye’. To either side of the Eye, walls stretched on for several kilometres vertically towards a non-existent ceiling and floor, but even more so horizontally, creating a monumental hallway for Manaan to travel along. Scattered randomly throughout the ancient artefact were several dim lights and seemingly superfluous metal protrusions. Though countless millennia in age, the device remained mostly intact, with only minor damage visible on its hull.

After a quick visual scan, Captain Soban located the array, situated near the bottom of the floor-less hallway and on the same section as the Eye. Manaan slowed and turned to approach sideways, coming to a halt at the array’s base.

“Shining, get the groups prepared. Twilight, you’re with me.”

“Yes Captain!” the siblings replied simultaneously.

The first group to emerge from Manaan consisted of only Captain Soban and Twilight. As they floated towards the intricately textured section of hull that served as the mast’s base on the gigantic array, several other groups emerged from Manaan.

“Wow, so this is what no gravity feels like!” Twilight performed a pirouette, the air resistance within the bubble bringing her back to rest as they continued approaching the device’s hull.

“Spread out, everypony,” Soban spoke into his headset. “Group two, take the base of the array with us. Groups three and four, check out the mast, but do not deviate from it. Groups five, six and seven, explore the area near the base. You have about an hour to return before your oxygen runs out. Be back in forty-five minutes just to be on the safe side.”

Most of the exploration was spent in near silence, as the seven small bubbles moved around, examining their designated areas. The first few groups were about to return, when the fifth group made a possible breakthrough.

The groups surrounded the potential access point, while all the unicorns proceeded to remove the panel. As the heavy armoured seal was removed, a bright, golden glow flooded out, originating from multiple components of unknown purpose and composition, deep within the hull. Captain Soban and Twilight lowered themselves into the recession to analyse what they could, before their forty-five minutes were up.

“Well?” Twilight asked after a moment. “Does anything here look promising?”

The Captain’s eyes darted randomly between objects. “I … No, I can’t tell. This looks like the right place, but I have no idea what I should be looking for. This thing here looks like some kind of console. Those large things along the edge are probably power and signal cables. As for those over there”—Soban pointed to a large collection of glass-like objects inserted into several slots along the walls—“I have no clue, Twilight.”

Soban looked around frantically. An alien language, walls of buttons, complex circuitry and unknown, detachable items did not make matters in any way simple for the frustrated Captain. “That’s it, everypony back on the ship. Plan B, Twilight …”

“Well look what happened before, Twilight. I figure it’s worth a shot,” the Captain said, as they emerged from Manaan for the second time. “I mean, I’m sure if you mess with it enough, it would transmit something to the network.”

“So you are going to risk what is possibly your only way home by—”

“Twilight, what other choice do I have? Yes, I might lose my only way home, but if I do nothing, it’s as good as lost anyway, so I think I’ll pick the lesser of two evi—dammit Pinkie, I can barely breathe with your hooves around my neck!”

A giggle and a snort later, the eccentric and overly excited pony loosened her grip on the unwilling host to her piggyback ride.

The bubble of three floated back into the recession containing the array’s controls. The Captain nudged Pinkie as they came to a halt. “Alright Pinkie, do your … whatever it is you do.”

“Hey, what the—OUCH PINKIE, what are you—” Twilight protested with several minor profanities as Pinkie transferred from Soban’s back, to Twilight’s, gripping her horn and manipulating objects around them as if it was a joystick.

Pinkie seemed to enjoy herself a little too much, as components flew around and buttons were pushed in indeterminable combinations, while her tongue stuck out to the side partially as she concentrated on nothing in particular. Eventually, Twilight shook her off, and the trio returned to Manaan while Pinkie spent the entire trip back cartwheeling in zero gravity.

“Alright, we did what we came here to do,” Soban remarked after the scientists finished with their overly meticulous hour-long examinations and returned safely back on board. “Whether we actually did anything? Only time will tell. I don’t know how long it will take for anything to happen, but if there’s nothing after a week or so, we’ll return and damage some of the gate’s non-essential systems.”

Manaan slowly drifted away from the array, placing enough distance between itself and the hull of the ancient device before orienting itself towards an exit out of the asteroid cluster and towards Equestria. Home.

“Uhh, Captain?” Zenith called out half an hour after their departure, her eyes glued to one of the screens at her station. “Sensors are picking up a massive power surge from the Eye.”

“The array having issues?”

“No, I mean the actual Eye. It looks like there is activity. And movement.”

“That was fast,” Soban said, turning Manaan back towards the hyperspace gate. “Who arrived?”

“Scanning. Two ships. I think they—Yes, they are communicating. One moment, translation in progress,” Zenith replied.

“Translation in—WHAT?”

“We are the keepers of Khorsabad. We are the guardians of the Sixth.”

4: Lunar Strike

“… Captain?” Zenith stared at Soban expectantly. “Captain! Your orders?”

For the first time in countless years, the Captain felt fear, as he stared at the virtual image of the keepers on his displays.

A little over three times the size of Manaan, built with a chassis resembling the common frigate platform, the keepers sported two powerful sustained ion cannons and eight pulsar beam turrets. To either side its nose, a long thin pylon ran perpendicular, ending with a shorter pair of vertical protrusions at the tips, serving as part of its sophisticated sensors array. Perhaps the most terrifying visual trait was its forward-facing drone hangar, the opening giving the vessel the appearance of wide open jaws. Captain Soban was about to find out just how hard they could bite.

“Run,” he whispered. “RUN! Turn us around, ahead flank! Nova, prepare the flak cannon! Shining! Bridge! Now!”

Manaan jerked itself around, executing an emergency manoeuvre while the two keepers gave chase.

Zenith monitored the situation closely. “The keepers appear to be matching our speed, but sensors show several smaller objects emerging from the pair.”

“Attack drones. Prepare to defend!” the Captain announced. “We might be able to hold them off in the short run, but there’s nothing I can do about the keepers.”

“Meaning what exactly?” Twilight asked, her voice tremulous.

“Meaning we are trapped here. We cannot outrun them, and I will not risk returning to your planet and bringing them with us. Remember what I said about the movers attacking foreign technology? It applies to all automated Progenitor warships. We have to lead the keepers as far away as possible. It may not even matter, but we have to try.”

“Based on current drone velocity, the first wave will intercept us in approximately forty-two minutes,” Zenith continued, maintaining composure.

“Are we going to di—”

“Shut up, Twilight!” Soban snapped. “Nova, how many rounds do we have left?”

“Ahh, I can’t give you exact numbers, but we still have several crates of ammunition remaining. It should be enough to keep us going non-stop for a few hours.”

“I came as soon as I heard, Captain!” Shining Armour burst into the bridge, out of breath. “What’s going on?”

“In forty minutes, all hell is going to break loose, that’s what's going on. Be ready with your shield when they get closer.”

“Captain! Hyperspace signature detected!” Zenith called out.

A yellow energy screen appeared ahead of one of the keepers. Within a few seconds, the keeper disappeared inside it, and the screen dissipated.

“The keeper is short-jumping. We need to change course!”

Manaan turned ninety degrees, just as another yellow screen materialised three kilometres to one side of the frigate, ejecting the first keeper, which had already begun spitting out drones.

“Incoming drones!” the Captain yelled. “Shining, get the shield up, now! Target the lead drone, Firelance!”

Mere seconds after Shining Armour brought up his shield, the first of four drones had unleashed its dual plasma weaponry upon Manaan.

“Fire!”

Manaan shuddered, as the flak rounds barely emerged from the frigate before detonating. Shining’s shield had blocked the rounds.

“What the—” Nova’s voice was barely heard over the radio, drowned out by a barrage of vulgarities from Firelance.

“How did I not even consider that to be a problem?” Soban smacked himself on the forehead. “Shining, are you able to focus the shield to only cover where we are getting attacked? We need an opening to fire from.”

“I’ll give it a try, but I need to know exactly where the drones are coming from.”

“Take Zenith’s place”—Soban pointed—“Those two screens to the left are your short-range sensors. Firelance, get ready to fire again!”

Shining Armour concentrated, staring at the screens that now indicated six drones swarming over Manaan. He adjusted his shield accordingly, only covering areas the approaching drones targeted. Shining nodded towards the Captain as soon as he thought he was ready.

“Now Firelance! Give them everything we’ve got!”

Another pair of rounds were hurled out of the dorsal cannon, exploding directly in front of an attack drone and sending it veering off course momentarily.

“Minimal damage, Captain!” Zenith commented while she peered over Shining Armour at another screen. “We’re going to need a load of hits just to take one down.”

“Keep firing!”

Round after round, crate after crate of expended ammunition, six drones were reduced to two damaged ones, as Manaan continued to unleash its clouds of fire upon the remaining hostile craft.

“Shining! The drone right behind us!” Zenith cried.

Shining Armour adjusted accordingly, but not before a pair of plasma rounds barely slipped past, damaging one of the five main drives.

“We’ve lost six percent of our thrust!” the Captain shouted. “That keeper is going to catch up to us!”

“Hyperspace signature, Captain! Four kilometres ahead,” Zenith continued reporting.

“Incoming keeper, hard to port!”

“Another hyperspace signature—no, multiple signatures! Fourteen kilometres ahead of us!”

Seven blue hyperspace windows of various sizes appeared, with a large yellow one at the head of the group. As the ships emerged, profiles and markings of all ships in the group were recognised just as easily as those of the keepers.

“Sajuuk! Sajuuk has arrived! Head for that ship!” Soban yelled, smashing a fist on to the comms. “Fleet Command, flak frigate Manaan requesting immediate assistance. Two keepers inbound, I repeat, two keepers inbound!”

A familiar female voice responded. “Soban? You have been listed as missing in action for over two months!”

“Yes yes, long story. Get those ships off my back!”

“Acknowledged. Dock with the Shipyard Nabaal. We will hold them off,” Fleet Command responded.

“Negative! I have civilians on board who need to be returned to that planet nearby. I’ll explain later. Just get me into low orbit.”

“Understood, Captain. Once you are in range, battlecruiser Masmak will provide the jump and escort. Make it quick.”

“Everypony, cover your eyes,” Soban ordered the bridge personnel. “It’s going to become real bright in a few seconds.”

Even from Manaan’s point of view, the sides of Sajuuk could be seen glowing increasingly brighter. Immediately after the crew had shielded their eyes, a colossal beam blasted out from Sajuuk, its area of effect narrowly avoiding Manaan, striking the closest keeper, and attack drone that happened to be in the way. After the beam dissipated, multiple heavy torpedoes whizzed past the retreating frigate, impacting with the disoriented keeper, before another pair finished off the final attack drone.

Manaan maintained course, as the damaged keeper phased out and rapidly repaired itself. The second keeper remained in pursuit, while every weapon within range targeted and pummelled the immortal vessel with high velocity metal, ion beams and torpedoes.

“You’re in range, Manaan. Stand by for hyperspace,” the Masmak’s Captain communicated.

Manaan came to a halt, allowing a blue hyperspace window to open up and swallow the frigate. In a tenth of a second, Manaan and its escort emerged in orbit around the planet.

“Thanks for the ride, Masmak. Forget the escort, go assist the fleet and return in an hour. Soban out.”

As the battlecruiser disappeared into hyperspace, Manaan adjusted course for re-entry while Shining Armour surrounded the vessel with his shield once more.

“I thought you said your ship didn’t have a hyperdrive,” Twilight wondered while Manaan punched through the upper atmosphere.

“You thought correctly. We have a wake-jump drive. Hyperdrives are too large to fit into a frigate, so we use the smaller wake-jump drives, allowing us to enter hyperspace if a hyperdrive-equipped vessel initiates it.”

“That’s the first thing you comment on, Twilight? Some technological curiosity?” Shining Armour grew increasingly agitated.

“I—I was just wondering how the frig—”

“Forget the feathering frigate!” Shining bellowed, rounding on Soban. “You, Captain, have led some unstoppable robotic killing machines right to our doorstep!”

“If it’s any consolation, Shining, we have the best chance of drawing them away from your solar system,” Soban responded.

“Any con—ANY CONSOLATION? Is that supposed to make me feel better about your blunder?” Shining Armour prodded the Captain with a hoof. “Oh yes, I feel so much better, knowing the mighty Captain Soban has a better chance of destroying something indestructible! What happens once they finish slaughtering your people, huh?” he continued jabbing the Captain. “I gave you the benefit of the doubt when I first heard about you, but now I see you have been nothing but trouble from day on—”

Captain Soban throttled Shining Armour, pinning the stallion to the wall. “And just what do you think would have happened if you would have woken up those movers, huh? What] do you think would have happened in your early years of space exploration if your kind had discovered the Eye by themselves? You speak of slaughter, yet your inexperience would have Equestria decimated! I will not allow that to happen, so don’t you dare talk down to me, soldier!” Soban spat, releasing the trembling unicorn and returning to his seat.

Twilight watched the short-lived confrontation in shock, unsure if she should have intervened. Hesitantly, she crept towards her brother, and the two exchanged hushed words that were inaudible to the rest of the crew. Shining Armour was visibly shaken by the Captain’s outburst, but smiled after his little sister approached to comfort him.

The bridge crew remained tight-lipped for most of the descent towards Canterlot. The air hung thick with fear and uncertainty, although not necessarily due to the Captain’s outburst. After what felt like hours, a calm and composed Soban spoke up. “Blame me for what has happened if you must, but we will do what we can to get them away from your home. I know I don’t exactly inspire confidence in you all at the moment, but we Hiigarans have been in plenty of dire situations before. Whatever it takes, we will fix this.”

Somewhere in the back of the Captain’s mind, he knew a great sacrifice would have to be made to save this planet. His rock-solid facial expression must have had a crack in it, as it set off several similar alarms in Twilight’s mind. Soban noticed her analysing him in the periphery of his vision, though he feigned ignorance, attempting to further solidify an emotionless expression while busying himself with pre-docking checks.

Manaan proceeded to dock at its familiar location underneath the castle. The scientists and crew trudged out while Soban leaned against the airlock controls. After the final passenger and crew member disembarked, they formed a rank in front of the confused Captain, saluting. Soban simply hammered his fist on the controls, unwilling to gaze into the glistening eyes of Pinkie and Twilight, or the sorrowful, demoralised faces of most of his crew. He simply watched the exterior doors slide over the view of the equines for the last time.

“Farewell,” he whispered.

The Captain remained on the bridge for several long minutes while Manaan followed its course out and away from the planet’s atmosphere automatically. Eventually, he decided to pass the time by taking a leisurely walk throughout the empty vessel. With his hands behind his back, he made his way past the crew quarters, reminiscing over the time he accidentally scared Fluttershy. He found it …

“Cute”, Soban laughed. Huh, there’s a word I’ve never used before.

The Captain made his way towards the weapons section, recalling the company of Nova and Firelance, the two of whom he may have considered his best friends. Now that he thought about it, the Captain never really had any close friends. Looking around, he absentmindedly slid open the breech of each cannon, half disappointed, half relieved to find them empty. He sighed, returning to the bridge.

As Soban stepped back on to the bridge, he spotted a night-blue pony with wings and a horn, occupying his seat in an oddly nonchalant fashion.

“Princess … Luna?” Soban blinked, astonished.

The Princess of the night smiled softly. “I hardly think you should have expected us to allow you to leave so easily. Your presence in Equestria has ushered us into an era of great discoveries and wonders, and our paths have become intertwined, for better or worse. Your people refuse to abandon us while they battle a foe they cannot defeat. We cannot simply stand by and watch. Therefore, we would like to return the favour by offering our assistance.”

“Princess, you said it yourself. We are battling a foe we cannot defeat. We are going to draw the keepers as far as possible from your world. You have to leave.”

Luna shook her head. “You seem to think you are always the one with the brilliant plans Captain, but this time it is ours you shall listen to.”

“About time, Manaan! The situation is grim here,” Masmak reported. “Two of our destroyers have heavy hull ruptures and are venting atmosphere. We are proceeding with our backup plan. We will attempt to catch them in our hyperspace wake and abandon them at Balcora. Stand by, we will jump in and take you.”

Manaan slowed to a stop in low orbit. “That’s damn near suicide! Negative, Masmak. Fleet Command, engage hyperspace and leave the keepers for me to deal with. Return in ten minutes.”

“I assume you have a plan?” Fleet Command’s voice joined in.

“We do.”

“We?”

“Just go! No time to explain!”

“I hope you know what you are doing Captain. Good luck. Sajuuk out.”

The fleet far ahead of Manaan disappeared, abandoning the frigate with the two keepers. Though the Captain had no visual on the keepers, time still seemed to slow to a crawl while the gaze of the keepers fell upon him, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to rise.

“Alright Princess. The moment of truth. Do it.”

In a bright flash, Manaan appeared several hundred kilometres away from the moon and held its position while Soban and Luna baited the keepers. Sure enough, a pair of hyperspace signatures were detected, as the keepers initiated their short-jump manoeuvre towards the helpless frigate.

“Here they come. Let’s do this.”

Manaan swung about, its engines blasting away while the frigate headed nose-first towards the moon. Moments later, the keepers appeared nearby.

“Not good! I didn’t expect them to be in weapons range. You sure we can’t just do it now?”

“I need time to prepare. Just a few seconds …” Luna replied, shutting her eyes in deep concentration.

“They’re bringing ion cannons to bear!”

Manaan shook violently, as two pairs of sustained ion cannon beams began to cut through Manaan, impacting the engine fairing and gradually moving diagonally towards the bridge section on the starboard side of the frigate, while a sizzling noise resounded throughout the cabin.

“Now or never, Luna!”

“Just … a little … more!” Luna struggled, emitting an increasingly brighter amount of light from her horn with each second.

A sudden drop in cabin pressure preceded the popping of a pair of ears while a long, low-pitched alarm accompanied the sound of rooms, sections, and compartments throughout the frigate being sealed off.

“Hull breach! Ship is under lock-down! We’re going to break apart, Luna!”

“NOW!” Luna bellowed in a much deeper voice, opening her now pure-white eyes. A shock-wave of magic discharged from her horn, blinding Soban and knocking him sideways out of his seat. The last thing the Captain heard before blacking out was the sound of teleportation.

When Soban finally regained consciousness, he noted his ship was drifting, slowly tumbling through space. The bridge was completely devoid of even a flicker of light, and the artificial gravity of the vessel was inoperable. Princess Luna’s motionless body floated about, and a surge of adrenaline drove Soban to her side.

“Princess? Princess, are you alright? Luna?” Soban felt for a pulse. It was weak, but it was there.

Luna stirred. “Did—did we make it?” She mumbled.

“I think so. At least, no keepers are pursuing us. Come on, let’s get you into one of the seats.”

“What happened to the lights? And the gravity?”

“Power must have failed. We took a horrible beating. I think it’s safe to say the keepers got the worst of it though,” Soban grunted, securing the exhausted Princess into a seat. “If they can survive getting the moon thrown at them, I give up. Damn, the ship is completely unresponsive.”

“Perhaps”—Luna pointed outside—“that might be the reason why.”

Soban looked in the direction of Luna’s hoof, at Manaan. Or at least, what was left of it, from a hundred metres away. A charred path of melted metal was drawn from the engine fairing, straight towards the section connecting the ship to where the bridge had been. Even from this distance, coolant could be seen venting from the derelict hulk, originating from the engine section where a significant portion of hull was missing.

Though he could not hear it, the Captain watched his vessel groan in agony. As the reactor finally went critical, the entire rear end of the warship split open with its eventual detonation, leaving naught but debris as the explosion subsided.

Luna placed a hoof on Soban’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about your ship, Captain.”

The Captain smiled weakly. “What’s a single ship, for countless lives? There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

With no controls, all Soban and Luna could do was to wait for the fleet to arrive. To their relief, they didn’t have to wait long. Within the minute, the fleet returned. A resource collector was dispatched to retrieve the bridge of Manaan and return it to the Nabaal.

After the airtight doors to the bridge were forcefully removed by the shipyard crew, Captain Soban and Princess Luna emerged to a crowd of Hiigarans, applauding and cheering them on. After the events that had transpired, none of the Nabaal’s crew seemed to even care that Soban walked beside an alien quadruped. After a brief medical exam, Captain Soban and Princess Luna were escorted to a conference room for discussions between the fleet Captains and Fleet Command.

5: Flagship

The double doors to one of Shipyard Nabaal’s several conference rooms swung open, as two figures entered and approached the large central table where each Captain of the fleet sat. The seven seated Captains merely stared at Soban’s companion, some with open mouths, some muttering inaudibly to each other.

Captain Soban cleared his throat. “Gentlemen, I would like to present Princess Luna, co-regent to the ponies of Equestria. Princess, may I introduce Captain Nabaal of the Shipyard Nabaal, Nasiif and Paktu of the battlecruisers Masmak and Liir, Malik and Amra of the destroyers Nar-Durg and Gwalior, and Hajod and Malkar of the flak frigates Iifrit and Paaura. Unfortunately, Fleet Command S’jet cannot attend in person, but I’m assuming she’s with us via comms?”

Karan S’jet’s soothing voice resounded throughout the room. “You assumed correct, Captain. Please sit. You hold answers to a myriad of questions. Welcome, Princess Luna. I must admit this is highly unorthodox, but given recent events, I believe you have every right to be present. Now Captain, I think I speak for everyone when I ask why a pair of keepers were pursuing you, and for that matter, how you managed to not only survive the encounter, but defeat them with a single ship.”

“If it’s all the same, Fleet, I think it would be best if I started my long and complicated story from the beginning,” Soban began. “These last few months have been a mixture of interesting, mystifying and frightening experiences. I arrived alone, as the sole vessel in the system, and the sole occupant of my own severely crippled ship. Long story short, I made landfall and met the locals. Some volunteered themselves as my crew, after the discov—”

“You let an unknown alien race control your vessel?” Captain Hajod spoke up. “You allowed them access to Hiigaran technology, and quite possibly tactical data? Why of all the irresponsible, idiotic—I should throw you into the brig, myself!”

Many of the Captains murmured in agreement. “As much as I hate to admit it, Captain Hajod is right,” Captain Amra spoke up. “Forget a dishonourable discharge, you could be court-martialed for your—”

“What if I told you that with their help, we have unravelled a mystery we scarcely knew existed?” Soban interrupted. “What if I told you our information on the Progenitors, and Sajuuk in particular, is incomplete or incorrect?”

Silence was the only reply. Captain Soban paused for a moment, allowing the gravity of his words to sink in.

“Fleet Command, do you notice anything out of the ordinary?” he continued. “Are your senses telling you anything? Do you feel something … Odd?”

Karan hesitated. “I’m not sure if I fully understand your question, Captain.”

“I think you do, ma’am. I also think you do not believe it. What accompanied every arrival of Bentus? Or Makaan’s flagship? You felt something every time they were relatively close in proximity, didn’t you?”

“I hope you aren’t implying—”

“That’s what I said when it was suggested to me. Your body and mind is directly linked to the core you inhabit, so you can feel the presence of the other hyperspace cores, can you not? So I ask again, are your senses telling you anything?”

Karan let out a long sigh. “Yes. I feel the presence of a fourth core.”

The effect was almost instantaneous. The seven Captains in front of Soban either gasped or became dangerously wide-eyed. Nobody said anything for what felt like minutes. Nobody knew what to say.

Soban decided to continue. “I’m afraid that’s not all, either. There is strong evidence to suggest a total of six cores exist.”

Captain Nabaal nearly choked on a glass of water. “What—what evidence would that be?” he coughed and spluttered.

“Assuming the bridge computer of Manaan wasn’t damaged, I have multiple entries outlining this evidence, plus more, in detail. Worse still, the retrieval of the fourth core ended in near disaster. A group of movers attacked us as we approached—”

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me a single flak frigate took on several movers?” Captain Malkar interjected, raising an eyebrow. “Captain, I find it hard to believe that along with defeating a pair of keepers, you have been using a plain old Hiigaran frigate. No offence to your abilities, but I seriously doubt anyone is that good a Captain or pilot.”

“True. Technically it was the same frigate, but with one or two, uhh … upgrades. As I have discovered, unicorns are capable of performing extraordinary feats. Those are the ponies with horns on their heads, by the way”—Soban gestured at Luna’s—“and as a result, I am sitting in front of you all because Manaan had a shield around it. One that could prevent the passage of anything harmful to a vessel. In addition to a shield, Manaan could teleport itself instantly. Believe it or not, these ponies wield the power of magic.”

Several Captains snickered and laughed at the hilariously childish claim. Soban merely turned towards Luna, who practically read his mind. In a flash of light, she appeared on the other side of the table behind the other Captains. As quickly as it came, the laughter died out, before Luna reappeared beside Soban.

“Let the research teams figure out a more appropriate name,” he said, folding his arms with a smirk. “As far as I’m concerned, I will refer to it as magic until it is called otherwise.”

“So are we to assume this … magic, was the reason you defeated the keepers?” Fleet Command enquired.

“Indeed it is. The Princess threw the moon at them.”

Captain Nabaal nearly choked on another glass of water.

“Please tell me you meant that in some figurative manner, Captain,” Nasiif responded. “And someone take that glass away from Elohim already!”

“Gentlemen, I ask that you direct your attention to the moon behind you.” Grinning, Soban turned to Luna. “Princess, might I ask for a demonstration?”

Grinning, Luna’s horn sparkled in a lighter shade of her coat. The other Captains focused on the distant moon, which began to spin rapidly on its axis, sending particles from its surface into a cloudy ring around it, before halting abruptly and rotating in the opposite direction. Shortly after, it returned to its original state, leaving seven stunned Captains hunched over with their mouths agape.

“Kiith’s blood, what have you stumbled in to, Soban?” Captain Malik recovered first. “I don’t suppose you have anything else up your sleeve that would require us to change our pants now, do you?”

“Well, there is one final thing. These six hyperspace cores aren’t what they appear to be. Their primary function is neither to facilitate long range transportation, nor to act as a power plant. Their purpose is deeper than that. Deep beyond my ability to comprehend it. I should have another Manaan entry that tries to explain this, but half the time, I didn’t even know what I was talking about.”

“Where do we go from here then, Captain?” Amra leaned forward expectantly.

“I thought it would be obvious. We need to find the other two cores.”

Captain Hajod rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, I’m loving this plan already. Exactly how are we going to search an entire galaxy? Do you have even the slightest clue of where to start looking?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I think.”

Soban and his fellow Captains emerged from the conference room, leaving Princess Luna alone with Fleet Command. Captain Hajod grumbled at Soban. “I don’t care if it’s the only lead you have. Your plan is filled with holes and flawed on so many levels, I don’t even know where to begin.”

Free for a couple of hours, Soban followed most of the other Captains towards the mess deck, situated on the port side of the vessel, overlooking the Shipyard’s resource collector drop-off zone. He gave the surly officer a smirk. “Look on the bright side. You don’t have to come along with me if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah, you’re not going to get rid of him that easily,” Malik commented. “He’s right, though. You’d be a fool to even consider travelling there without a few flak frigates.”

“This is a mission of peace. What kind of message do you think we will send if we arrive with a large fleet of warships?”

“I’m just saying, if you’re going to go in with a few capital ships, you might want to consider the significant number of fighter craft they will most certainly have, especially given their fanatical nature,” Malik warned. “No matter, plenty of time to refine the plan.”

Captain Soban remained deep in thought as they walked through the mess deck towards the open buffet. Military cuisine was most certainly not among the list of things he missed.

“Something tells me Fleet Command has another idea,” he spoke up again. “I suspect I won’t be seeing my marine frigate again, either. Tea?”

“Any partic—no thanks. Any particular reason why?”

“I don’t know, to be honest,” Soban said, concerned. “After everything I’ve said, I doubt I will be reprimanded for that whole crew thing, but still, there is a—”

“Whoah, easy on the sweet stuff! I think you got your sugar-to-tea ratio reversed there!” Malik mocked Soban, who helped himself to his fifth spoon.

“Wha—oh, right. I’ve been meaning to cut back on that.”

Soban and Malik sat alone along the windows, watching a trio of resource collectors zip back and forth between the Shipyard and the nearby asteroids.

“So what have I missed while I was away?”

Malik shrugged. “Not much. A few minor Vaygr incursions here and there, but they are practically suicide runs. Turanic Raider activity has risen, but they seem to be targeting anything other than us. Just watch, in a few weeks the Galactic Council will probably ask us to help police the outer rim.”

“Yeah, that’s going to turn out well.” Rolling his eyes, the sarcasm practically oozed out of Soban. “Despite everything, I find it hilariously ironic that the Raiders demand a place on the Council, yet still terrorise the trade routes. Good luck to them.”

“You know,” Captain Malik spoke between mouthfuls of food. “We had a memorial planned for you at the end of next month.”

Soban chuckled. “How touching. A lovely little service commemorating my life, with a bunch of flowers around a portrait of me, huh?”

“Not enough flowers in the galaxy to distract people from your ugly mug, Melarn.”

“Coming from the guy who’s more bloated than a Vaygr Shipyard?” Soban shot a sly grin at Malik.

Captain Malik stared back for a few seconds, before the two of them burst out laughing. “You sure don’t pull any punches, huh? You win this—”

“Captain Malik, report for deployment at hangar 2. Captain Malik, deployment at hangar 2,” a droning voice over the PA system announced.

“Eh?” Malik stared at the loudspeaker in the ceiling. “I wasn’t aware I was scheduled for deployment. Damn, I hoped we would have a few hours to catch up. Perhaps another time, then. See you ‘round, Mel!”

Soban remained at his table for the next hour, preferring isolation while staring out into space and tuning out the chatter of the other officers around him. Though he was a warship Captain at heart, the thought of commanding a two kilometre-long construction facility such as this shipyard had always fascinated him. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone, but Soban grew weary of charging headfirst into combat. Still, the fact that the pinnacle of mobile Hiigaran manufacturing was one of the most sluggish, defenceless vessels around made Soban feel better about his current position. All that empty space for docking and construction guaranteed these expensive vessels would never hold their own on a battlefield.

Although there was still half an hour before Soban was to report back at the conference room, he decided to return regardless and wait outside. As he sat nearby, he could hear a heated argument between Fleet Command and Captain Paktu. Though their voices were muffled, Soban could piece together most of the dispute.

“Absolutely ridiculous, Fleet!” Captain Paktu’s furious voice met Soban’s ears. “I had my name down ever since the project was conceived!”

Fleet Command responded, mildly irritated. “Captain, you will mind your volume in the presence of our guest.”

“I don’t care if she’s a recruit, or the creator of our sand-cursed galaxy! This is completely unfair!”

“Enough! You are acting like a child, Captain. What difference does it make if you wait a few more months?”

“Everything! It’s about having the honour of being the first to—”

“Honour? If your service has been about something as petty as honour, I suggest you rethink your position in our fleet. Look past your Kiith for once, Captain. Dismissed.”

The doors slammed open as Captains Paktu and Nasiif emerged, the face of the former appearing as if someone had drawn the meanest looking frown on a beetroot. Paktu stopped in his tracks and glared at Soban momentarily before storming off again, muttering something about ‘Karan’s pet’.

Captain Nasiif remained still, watching the walking temper-tantrum disappear around the corner. He shook his head and faced Soban. “Don’t worry about him, he’ll get over it. Go on in, Fleet is expecting you. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Huh?”

Nasif simply winked. “Best if I don’t spoil it for you. Good luck!”

Captain Soban hesitantly entered the conference room, as Nasiif disappeared after Paktu, whose raging voice could still be heard echoing nearby. Shutting the doors behind him, Soban found Luna alone at the table and sat down opposite to her.

“I guess you heard our little dispute then, Captain?” Fleet Command’s voice returned.

“Not that much, ma’am. What’s going on?”

“Princess Luna and I have spent the better part of an hour in negotiations over several key topics. However, I’ll spare you the details of all but those that are relevant to you. Today, we begin our trading relations with the nation of Equestria. The Princess has agreed to transfer possession of the fourth hyperspace core to us, for technology, resources, and ships. We both agreed it was a fair trade. However, the conditions for this trade was what resulted in the argument you heard. Princess?”

Luna faced Soban. “After the encounters we have had during your visit, it has become clear we need an edge in defending ourselves against further attacks. I cannot guarantee the safety of my subjects with the shining jewel of my night sky forever, and even so, I cannot safely do so within the vicinity of our planet. We have no use for the hyperspace core, so we have offered it to your people, in exchange for the means to start our own fleet. In doing so, your people will assist in training soldiers of our choosing and providing us with all necessary designs for different vessels.”

Soban chuckled. “You must be a pretty impressive negotiator to get some of our ships, Princess. Good for you! Doesn’t Princess Celestia have to approve this as well, though?”

“The agreement, once approved by all relevant parties, is to provide the nation of Equestria with the means to start their own fleet,” Fleet Command clarified. “Once our latest vessel design has been tested, ownership will be transferred to the Equestrian military, along with a single resource collector. The transaction will occur within the next few days, assuming no complications. Hiigaran crew will remain aboard the vessel temporarily for training purposes.”

“You’ve designed a new ship?”

“Several, actually. Our research division came up with them shortly after your disappearance, in response to a growing Turanic Raider threat across several territories. Along with new designs, existing capital ships have undergone upgrades to allow for a more mobile fleet, plus a more robust defence against hostiles. You will be provided with the necessary documentation outlining the changes in further detail shortly.”

“Sounds impressive, but where do I come in with all of this?”

Princess Luna spoke up. “We need a Captain for our flagship.”

Captain Soban nearly choked on a glass of water.

The Captain relaxed in one of Canterlot’s grand orchestra halls, lost in a mixture of classical Equestrian music and his own thoughts. In the last few days since the keeper incident and the negotiations between Luna and Karan, things back in Equestria had changed considerably.

Materialising beside the Princess of the night near the castle, he was almost completely swarmed with his relieved crew. Blurs of pink, dark-blue and purple tackled Soban to the ground, in one of the most brutal hugs the Captain had ever experienced. Gasping for air, he found Pinkie, Nova, Firelance and Twilight all on top of him.

Word of the victory against the keepers surged throughout Canterlot, and the prospect of Equestria’s new space program elicited excitement in ponies of all ages. Demand for telescopes rose sharply, as the elderly sat on their porches and balconies and looked up at the wonders of the universe. Fillies and colts coaxed their parents into submission, to obtain scale models of the famous Manaan, or to Captain Soban’s horror, an action figure of himself.

Perhaps news spread too quickly. As it travelled like wildfire to neighbouring cities, so too, did it travel across borders to far-off lands. The Equestrian government was thrown into turmoil, with outrage from the multiple surrounding nations. Diamond dogs, dragons, mules, griffons, and even a representative of the changelings, collectively accused the Princesses of forming an unfair, exclusive alliance with a powerful alien race. Equestria had seemingly become an overnight target for all manner of conspiracy accusations.

In an effort to soothe relations, Captain Soban had stepped in to assist with handling the delicate issue. Though ownership of the flagship was to be purely Equestrian as per the agreement with the Hiigarans, Soban recommended the Princesses allow a more multicultural crew complement. Having other species aboard would go a long way in placating any concerns each nation might have had.

Due to unforeseen complications, in part from Soban’s ignorance of other nations, only one species made the cut: Griffons. The thieving stereotype of diamond dogs barred them almost immediately. Dragons were prone to rapid and dangerous growth spurts. Mules, while filling ground-based positions, lacked many qualities for a ship-board environment. As for changelings, after a recent incursion in Canterlot, any chance they had aboard an Equestrian military vessel were long gone.

Despite the many nations that had been turned away, the impossibility of a pony-griffon alliance was enough to quell the unrest. It was no secret the tension between ponies and griffons created a counter-productive environment, and as such, the probability of a planet-wide joint-military takeover was minuscule. While the Captain had his concerns, he believed it could work out, provided the crew were drilled and disciplined to Hiigaran standards.

Thus, the selection process began for the two hundred members of the yet-to-be-named flagship. Engineers, gunners, repair crew, bridge crew, cooks, medics, scientists and tacticians, would all serve aboard the vessel. In addition, several hundred extra candidates would ultimately be trained to accommodate the inevitable expansion of the fleet.

While it was highly probable most crew would be selected from existing military branches, the training would nevertheless be extensive, unlike the bare-minimum crash-courses Captain Soban provided for his crew aboard Manaan. At Soban’s request, the crew of Manaan would be allowed to serve aboard the flagship if they so wished. None declined.

Captain Soban could hardly believe these events unfolded within the span of a single week. A nation he had once thought of as primitive and immature, albeit fun and interesting, had shown an astounding ability to plan, organise and make progress in such short notice.

The applause of several hundred ponies tore Captain Soban away from his thoughts, as the string quartet finished their final piece of their performance with a duet from the violist and cellist. Eventually, Soban joined the long file of ponies making their way out, while his accompanying friend trotted alongside, humming to one of the tunes of the quartet.

Soban gave his companion a sidelong glance. “I still find it amusing that you of all ponies would be in to this style of music, Firelance. You struck me as more of a … I don’t know, electro-dance type.”

Firelance grinned sheepishly. “Heh, it’s just my thing. Normally I don’t attend the concerts, but after you described the type of music you enjoyed, this seemed like the closest thing. Was also the perfect excuse for me to grab some tickets.”

“Pity Nova cancelled at the last minute. What happened to him, anyway?”

“Ahh, probably one of his kids got sick or something. Seems to happen once every few weeks.”

“Well I hope he realises he’s not going to be able to look after his kids for several days on end. Once we find ourselves up there”—Soban pointed skywards—“we won’t be able to return to Equestria on a whim.”

“Speaking of which, when are we going to explore the stars? Flying around here was fun and all, but I’d love to get up close to the sun, go through the heart of a nebula or weave through asteroid fields.”

“All in due time, my friend. The flagship should arrive either tomorrow or after tomorrow, and once we have a list of crew members, we can begin the training. After three or four months, everypony should be fully qualified for their posts, give or take a few months, depending on what specific jobs each member will have.”

“Four months? But I wanna go now!”

“Relax, Firelance. There will be a Hiigaran crew with us during the initial stages of the flagship’s service. You will all learn in the field, so in all likelihood, we should be good to go as soon as the selection process is complete.”

The two walked through the busy streets of downtown Canterlot to a small block of flats where Firelance resided. Left without a ship, Soban immediately moved in with an insistent Firelance, at least until the flagship arrived. Though it was a dark, minuscule, one-bedroom apartment, Soban had no objections to sleeping on the couch. Except, perhaps, seeing the creepy smile on a certain goldfish’s face while dozing off.

Soban barely shut the door, before catching a bottle of cider Firelance hurled his way.

“Cheers!” Firelance clinked his own bottle against Soban’s. “So I heard you folks don’t have a name for the flagship yet.”

“I don’t think anypony has even considered a name for it at this stage,” Soban mused, sinking into an armchair opposite to Firelance.

“Well? Got any ideas? I say we name it the Pride of Equestria!”

Soban shook his head. “Been done already. Besides, not only is it cliché, but you guys didn’t build it, so that name seems unsuitable. Personally, I’d name it Tiir, after the capital of our planet, Kharak.”

“Bah! Enough with your weird ship names. What the hay is a Manaan, anyway? And I thought your planet was Hiigara?”

“Manaan is the name of a well-known Kiith. As for Kharak, it was our home planet after we were exiled many millennia ago. Three hundred million people died in a planet-wide extermination a few thousand years later when we left to reclaim our homeworld.”

“Ouch. Well, this has become a little … awkward.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was among the most detestable, despicable crimes committed in the history of our galaxy, but that’s exactly what it is. History. Nothing we can do to change it.” Soban furrowed his brow, quickly changing the topic. “So, don’t like our names, huh? Well I suppose it seems fitting to use a more Equestrian name.”

“A’ight, now we’re getting somewhere! How about … Luna’s Wrath?”

“Inappropriate name for a flagship. A warship, perhaps, but not the flagship. Makes Equestria, and Luna in particular, sound violent. Also, a tad cliché.”

“How about Love?” Firelance snickered.

Soban laughed. “Well it would certainly make for some interesting communication towards aggressors … ‘This is the flagship Love to all hostile vessels. You will stand down or face the consequences!’ Actually, I’d pay good money to see the looks on the faces of those aboard said vessels.”

“Ooh, I got it! How about the flagship Ursa Major?”

“Ursa Major?”

“Yeah, it’s this giant bear thing that’s purple and see-through. Got loads of star patterns on it and stuff. Read up about them after some prick of a mare came waltzing down the streets, banging on about how she defeated or banished one. Or something like that, anyway. Doubt anyone believed her,” Firelance snorted.

“Hmm, well I’m out of ideas. Ahh, whatever, I’ll figure out a name later.”

Firelance downed the second half of his bottle in one go, slamming it on the table and jumping up. “It’s too damn quiet here. Need a bit of music.” Rummaging through his collection of vinyl records, he scanned their covers, before finally settling on one. “Ah, this will do nicely!”

The soft vibrato of a cello filled the tiny living room, as the Captain raised an eyebrow at Firelance. “More strings? Let me see that collection of yours”—he flicked through the records —“… Classical … Classical … String Quartet … Cello solo … The Best of Oct—wait a second, these all have that same musician in common. Come to think of it, I remember seeing her at the concert, too. Looks to me like you have an unhealthy obsession with her,” Soban smirked.

“I—Well, pfft, nah!”

“You’re blushing, Firelance,” Soban lied.

The flustered pegasus placed a hoof to his cheek. “I am?”

Soban succumbed to hysterical laughter. “Nope, but you are now.”

Firelance grumbled, glaring at the Caption briefly, before making his way to the fridge to browse through his collection of adult beverages. “You’ve cleaned me out of cider. Wanna beer?”

“Sure, why not? Can’t say no to a free— … You hear that?”

“Hear wh—yeah. What the hay is that?”

“Sounds like a gunship corvette. Come on, let’s go. No, forget the beer, hurry up!”

Soban scanned the skies for the origin of the noise. A small ship roughly forty metres in length approached the castle of Canterlot. Soban and Firelance followed, as the corvette-class vessel circled the grounds and set itself down.

The gunship, which ironically had no weaponry due to extensive modifications for atmospheric operations, had already drawn a sizeable crowd for the Captain and Firelance to squeeze past when they finally arrived. A single Hiigaran pilot conversed with the Princesses.

The pilot offered his salutations upon noticing the approaching Captain. “Flight Lieutenant Pahad, sir. I have orders to transport the Captain of the Equestrian flagship aboard his vessel. If you will come with me, we can depart immediately.”

“Understood, Lieutenant. I—” Soban cut himself off upon sighting the overly enthusiastic Firelance jumping beside him. “He can come too, right?” he pointed.

“I—err, of course,” the pilot hesitated. “Shall we?”

“I don’t suppose you have the capacity for two extra passengers, do you?” Luna asked.

“Sorry ma’am, only three seats aboard. This isn’t a drop-ship, I’m afraid.” The Lieutenant replied.

“Oh, we don’t need seats. We will be fine,” Luna insisted, partially dropping her public mannerisms amidst her own excitement.

The Lieutenant looked uneasily at Soban. “Captain?”

“Go on Lieutenant, they know how to take care of themselves.”

“There she is, Captain,” the Lieutenant announced, gesturing towards a large object surrounded by several smaller escort vessels. “The supercarrier-class flagship.”

It was only then, as the tiny corvette approached the primarily blue-grey behemoth from above and behind, that Captain Soban fully took in the aesthetic details of the flagship, most of which had been omitted from the more technical specifications he had received aboard the Nabaal.

Based on the battlecruiser chassis, the supercarrier had the same long and flat rectangular appearance, slightly tapering from the centre to the forward section. The major distinction between the supercarrier and a battlecruiser was its capital ship production facility, located to the front, port side of the vessel, where warships as large as destroyers could be constructed and released laterally. The positioning of this facility created a highly asymmetrical appearance to the supercarrier.

As the corvette aligned itself to approach the hangar from the starboard side entrance located between the engine section and the frigate production facility, Soban noted that while most of the weapons normally mounted on a battlecruiser were stripped away, the pair of dual ion cannon turrets located centrally on the dorsal and ventral sections remained.

Princess Celestia admired the vessel from the rear of the gunship. “Astonishing. Absolutely astonishing. I find myself lost for words.”

As they passed through the entrance and made their final turn astern the supercarrier towards the hangar bay, the occupants of the gunship corvette prepared to disembark, as it approached one of the tightly packed landing zones.

“Bit difficult to move around in here,” the Lieutenant commented, aligning the corvette with the couplings that would suspend the vessel mere metres above another already docked gunship. “The engineers managed to barely quadruple the hangar space from the original battlecruiser design to allow twenty fighter or corvette-class squads to fit in here. Armour is a little thinner as well, to compensate for the—”

“Yeah, I read the file, Lieutenant. So, will you be giving us the grand tour inside, as well?”

“Negative, Captain. I’m just the delivery boy. Your tour guide is probably waiting on the other side.”

Soban, Firelance and the Princesses remained in the gunship’s cabin until the connecting walkway slid over and attached to the clam-shell doors of the gunship, equalising the pressure between the two sections. Emerging single-file across the narrow passage, the group passed through another pair of airtight doors to be greeted by Captain Malik.

“Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Captain Malik,” he started, a cheeky grin plastered on his face, as he examined the four arrivals. “On behalf of Hiigara, I would like to welcome you aboard this supercarrier-class vessel. Please direct your full attention to me, as I explain the safety features aboard this multi-hundred-thousand ton command-ship. When the seat-belt sign illuminates, you must fasten—okay I’ll stop now.”

“I see your sense of humour hasn’t improved.”

“Better than yours, Mel. Come on, you’re going to love this ship!”

Hours passed, as the small group inspected every section, every deck and every feature of the flagship. From the automated construction and repair systems at the front, to the engineering section that dealt with the seven large ion drives and the latest Hiigaran-made hyperspace module, the flagship amazed and wowed Soban and the Princesses and left Firelance drooling at the prospect of working with one of the ion cannon turrets.

The tour finally ended at the bridge, which to Soban’s relief had been redesigned from the highly vulnerable side-mounted version almost every Hiigaran vessel used, and moved to just ahead of, and under the dorsal ion cannon turret.

“So, what do you think, Captain?”

“Is she fully operational?”

“Pretty much. Our guys are just waiting to train your crew.”

“You shall have them in three days, Captain Malik,” Celestia replied. “Our crew selection concluded earlier this morning, so they should transfer over in due time.”

“Wonderful! In that case, I can brief you all on the plan to assess the flagship for mission suitability. Just a few quick tests to verify everything is in order and to give you and your crew a level of familiarity as part of their training. If you’ll follow me, I can—oh wait, I almost forgot, your flagship is still nameless. Have any of you come up with a name for her?”

Celestia and Luna glanced at each other, before facing Soban. “It’s your decision, Captain,” Celestia said.

“Harmony. Her name is Harmony.”

6: Trials and Tribulations

“Stand by to begin combat trials. First, we will be monitoring the use of teleportation tactics with strike-craft,” flagship Harmony’s new tactical officer Zenith reported. “Assign the interceptor-class fighter and gunship-class corvette squadrons to the target drones provided by battlecruiser Masmak.”

“You heard the lady. Strike-craft, target four drones each,” Soban ordered.

Twin engined and with delta-shaped, negative-polyhedral wings that created a pronged fore-section, the formation of five interceptors sped off and left the slower, heavier trio of gunship corvettes in their afterburn. Setting themselves up for their first attack run, the interceptors rained down upon their targets with a torrent of magnetically accelerated rounds. Vanishing just before colliding with their targets, they reappeared off in the distance, already set up for their next attack run.

By the time the drone fragments scattered, and the interceptors had returned into formation with the flagship, the bulkier corvettes, with their dorsal and ventral turrets mounted on their elongated cuboid chassis, arrived within range of their targets and followed the interceptors’ examples.

“Teleportation trial complete,” Zenith continued. “Flight analysis shows a one hundred and fifteen percent increase in fighter combat performance over no tactics. No change in corvette combat performance. The next trial will test the effectiveness of shields. Stand by to begin the shield trial. Be advised, drones carry live ammunition. Assign the squadrons to the drones provided here.”

Charging off once more, the two squadrons approached the next formation of drones, under the protection of their individual bubble barriers. The drones fired first, their projectiles bouncing off or grazing against the shields, forcing the interceptor squadron to break formation and scatter briefly. The squadron recovered almost instantly, regrouping for their counterattack and firing out of a small hole in their shields with their forward-facing rotary weaponry.

Though the fighters had a simplistic, unchanging spherical enclosure, the corvettes had a larger shield management issue. The pivoting dorsal and ventral turrets provided each gunship with perfect coverage from every angle, and as such, the small openings in each shield required constant alteration. A dedicated member aboard each three-crew corvette managed the shield adjustment while the pilot and combat officer focused on their respective tasks.

Once the fiery remnants of the final drone disintegrated into oblivion, a quick inspection revealed the extent of the shield damage. The corvettes bore the brunt of the punishment as a result of their slower speed. Compensating for this drawback however, their firepower allowed for the faster destruction of their assigned drones, compared to the interceptors.

“Don’t get cocky, guys,” Soban warned the pilots exchanging joyous radio chatter “These drones used live rounds, but they weren’t dangerous by any standards. Now get yourselves back aboard.”

“Shield trial complete,” Zenith carried on. “In-depth offensive and defensive analysis will be available at our next briefing, Captain. The final combat trial will test the power and tracking effectiveness of the flagship’s ion cannons. Stand by to begin the flagship combat trial. Manoeuvre the flagship into the designated combat zone and engage the drones.”

Despite the extensive sound insulation, the roar of seven enormous engines pushing the colossal vessel would deafen the engineering crew, had they not worn protection. Entering the nearby combat zone, the first wave of target drones held position two kilometres directly in front of the flagship, while the dual, twin-ion turrets tracked the stationary drones.

This was it. The moment the flagship’s ion gunners Nova and Firelance had waited for. One, two, three, four ion cannons glowed a brilliant electric-blue, as the cannons prepared to fire, followed by several shrill roars that accompanied the transition from a mere pair of glimmers at the tips of each turret, to four fully fledged beams that swept across the drones, either vaporising them completely, or slicing through them like a blistering hot knife through butter. The beams continued, until they concluded their five-second emission with a final high-pitched noise, not unlike that of a sharp intake of breath.

A strange sound continuation was heard on the bridge. Quickly realising the internal comms were still open, the Captain fumbled over the controls to cut out the booming ‘WOOOOOOOOOO’ from Firelance.

Half a minute passed for the cannons to cool down to an acceptable level, triggering the second wave of drones to enter the combat zone and swarm around the flagship at a kilometre's distance. With near perfect accuracy, Harmony’s turrets tracked and predicted the flightpath of each drone, only narrowly missing one.

“Flagship combat trial complete. Engineering and weapons officers report optimal performance. Additionally, our resource collector reports the successful transfer of our first batch of resources, and construction reports a successful processing of them.”

“All operations are at optimum efficiency so far. Great work everypony!” the Captain commended. “Hyperspace module charged at ninety-two percent. The flagship will be ready for the hyperdrive test in five minutes.”

“Expect delays, Captain,” Zenith announced. “The resource collector must return with another four loads before proceeding.”

Many minutes passed as the crew of Harmony waited for the collector to return with its final load of harvested material. The flagship’s processing systems broke down the gathered material, atomically rearranging them into a dense substance, and sending them to thin storage containers underneath Harmony’s outermost armour, which conveniently served as additional armour when at full capacity.

“Resources fully processed. Collector docked. Preparations for the construction of a modular destroyer underway. Stand by to begin hyperdrive test. Internal pressure doors sealed. Abort systems standing by. Trigger the hyperspace drive at your discretion, Captain.”

The immense power requirements of quantum waveform generation taxed the entire vessel, causing even the cabin lights to dim momentarily as a surge of power flowed through the entire vessel and channelled itself forwards to open up the rectangular blue window that prepared to consume the vessel.

“Hyperspace initiated.”

“All hyperspace systems operating within tolerances,” Zenith reported. “If navigation and engineering predictions are accurate, we will arrive at the Hiigaran outpost in the Sarum system within sixteen hours. Mission objectives will be to rendezvous with the fleet, monitor all systems and return home.”

“Thanks, Zenith. I’ll be back later. You have the bridge.”

“When shall I schedule your next briefing?”

“We can take it in a few hours. There’s no rush for it right now.”

Captain Soban glanced outside at his new vessel, admiring the oblong shape and slight curvature of the flagship. He found it a pity that despite the generously sized windows that lined each side of the bridge, only a simple view-screen was built into the thick, armour-plated front. He supposed that was the point; to provide a solid surface that protected against frontal assaults. After all, what good is a flagship if the bridge is compromised?

However, it was neither the beauty of Harmony, nor his position aboard her that offered the Captain a level of serenity unlike any he would normally experience. It was what passed around the vessel that he had admired since he was a recruit. The wisps of blue that licked the ship as it passed through hyperspace would scatter and dance across the hull, almost like a flame, creating ever-changing artwork unsurpassed in beauty or variety.

As the only race to have truly become one with their ships, Soban envied the Bentusi. He could only dream of what it would feel like for a vessel to be merely an extension of a living body. He could only imagine the feeling of hyperspace and its wisps caressing the hardened exterior that seemed almost as through it were living skin. Most of all, he could only wonder what one might see through the eyes of the ancient race. A pity those secrets died out with the last of their kind.

Lost in his thoughts, Soban found himself at one of Harmony’s lowest decks: The mess deck. Whereas the bridge sat ahead of and under the dorsal ion cannon turret, the mess deck was built ahead of and above the ventral turret. A typically sparsely packed hall for the off-duty crew to relax, unwind and have a meal, the mess deck was brimming with activity. At least, Soban noted, brimming with ponies and several griffons. Not a single Hiigaran was found amongst the masses.

“Hey, Captain!” a friendly, gravelly voice shouted from behind a large bar counter. “What brings you to this little corner of your ship?” the buff, brown-coated unicorn motioned Soban to sit.

“Not much,” the Captain replied, parking himself on a stool and inspecting his surroundings. “Since when were bars allowed aboard military vessels?”

The unicorn shook his head. “This ain’t no bar, Skipper. You’re sitting with Equestria’s finest doughnut entrepreneur. The name’s Doughnut Joe,” he said, extending a hoof for Soban. “You can call me Joe, though. Used to run my own place in Canterlot until I heard they were looking for several chefs and bakers aboard this luxury liner. You should have seen the faces of the cops when I broke the news to them,” he chuckled. “Ahh well, I still have some of my old regulars, like Porky here!”

“Hey, I resent that nickname!” a particularly skinny pegasus responded nearby.

Doughnut Joe chuckled again. “He’s got a fast metabolism. So, what will it be? Vanilla? Chocolate? Cinnamon with apple filling? Glazed with sprinkles? You name it, I got it!”

“Cinnamon and apple sounds interesting. I’ll try a pair.”

“Comin’ right up!”

“Yeah, I really only served in the royal guard for a few years. After my minimum service period was up, I packed my things and left. It’s not that I hated it, but it just wasn’t for me. I guess that’s what happens when I ignore my true calling.” The stallion gestured at the image of a doughnut with pink icing and sprinkles that adorned his flank, before continuing. “I guess that kinda got my hoof in the door over here, what with my experience and all. I’m just surprised it was even a consideration. I dish out the doughnuts, not the firepower.”

“You have to look at it from a different perspective. Building a ship is easy. You have an entire galaxy of asteroids, dust clouds and junk parts with which you can assemble a ship, and if you lose one, it is easily replaceable. Lives, on the other hand, are not, which is why you don’t see ships this large that are filled with many crew. Lives are valuable, because they are relatively scarce. This is also why having many skills is vital. If you can do the job of two, you get accepted first. In the case of the more ‘civilian’ jobs aboard, weapons training is especially useful, in case an attacker decides to infiltrate our ship, for example.”

“Infiltrate? How so?”

“Well, there are several ways an attacker might infiltrate another vessel. We Hiigarans have a ship, called a marine frigate, which positions itself close to the hull of the target and uses an energy beam to insert and extract our marines. Other races generally use a more crude approach, where they would ram a small ship or pod into the target and cut through to get inside. So you can see how you would double up as a member of internal security.”

“That does explain the sort of training your people are providing for me, and most others who work on this deck.”

“Speaking of, any idea why no other Hiigarans are here? Have you seen any at all on this deck?”

“Only a few, but I think they were on duty. Now if I’m to be honest with you”—Joe leaned closer to the Captain—“I’ve been in the business long enough to be familiar with body language, and if those fellas were indicative of the rest of the Hiigarans aboard, I’d say they were distrustful of us. Hay, at least the griffons make an attempt to socialise with us, but your guys? I’ve seen more smiles at a graveyard.”

“Guess they just don’t know you guys like I do. I wouldn’t worry about it too much, though. They won’t stay for too long. Alright, thanks for the doughnuts. You got yourself another regular. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a briefing to prepare for.”

“… And so we return to the original issue,” An orange-coated, red-maned unicorn finished her tactical report on the earlier trials. “Given the advantage we have with teleportation and shielding, I believe this would be the perfect opportunity to figure out how we are to prioritise strike-craft deployment and crew management aboard the individual fighters and corvettes.”

Corona paused, digging through her files for the relevant papers. “We currently have two options with our fighters. Either we stick to the standard single-pilot assortment and leave teleportation or shielding up to the pilot, or we seat a dedicated unicorn behind the pilot to handle those extra tasks.”

“You seem to be forgetting one important thing there,” Zenith spoke up. “Only the best of the best can perform both teleportation and create a shield. Most of our pilots can only execute one of those abilities. These aren’t spells one can learn in a few days. They require many months of dedicated practice. Let’s not ignore the corvettes, either. While I would advise dual pilot arrangements for fighters, doing so would take precious crew away from the more efficient corvettes.

“Well, just how many would we need? Give me the maximum value,” Soban responded.

“Lets see here”—Zenith referred to a monitor—“We have twenty squad slots in our hangar bay. One of those is occupied by our resource collector, so that leaves nineteen squads. We require three crew members for each of the three ships in a corvette squad and either one or two members for a squad of five fighters. Doing the math, we get a maximum need of one hundred and ninety pilots if we wish to use fighters exclusively. Half of those pilots must be unicorns.”

Corona scratched her head. “Will we even have that many unicorns? Somepony check the manifest. In the meantime, we will also require corvettes, but we have to figure out what types of fighters and corvettes we will need.”

“Why don’t we just divide the types needed as evenly as possible?” Soban shrugged. “Four interceptors, five bombers, four gunships and five pulsar gunships. That leaves one more squad slot for something else. A scout squadron, perhaps?”

“Quite a simplistic suggestion,” Zenith considered. “I like it. That is, assuming this complements the rest of our fleet. What is the status of the modular destroyer, Corona?”

“Assembly is moving along quite nicely, but construction had enquired about the weapon load-outs for the five mounting slots. Captain? Your input is welcome here.”

“Well, we have a lot of choice. We could stick to the standard twin heavy-kinetic turrets for all four hard-points, plus the nose-mounted torpedo layout, but we could also use twin ion cannon turrets, flak cannons, tri-artillery turrets, torpedo batteries or pulsar turrets. We also have the option of removing the single ventral slot and adding extra propulsion. Now personally, I like the idea of extra propulsion and nose-mounted flak cannons. I also like the idea of filling the three dorsal slots with dual-ion turrets, but there is the issue of versatility. Suggestions on alternative weaponry?”

Corona spoke up first. “If you are set on the extra engines and flak cannons, I propose we fill out the dorsal slots with torpedo batteries. Given the long reload times of those batteries, a hit-and-run tactic sounds like the most effective offensive manoeuvre. Move ahead, strike quickly and retreat.”

Zenith shook her head. “I’m going to have to disagree. To do that, we would need to get a little too close for comfort with whatever we are targeting. Not a particularly enticing thought for me, especially since we don’t have a unicorn capable of projecting a large enough shield around a destroyer.”

“What are you talking about?” Corona asked. “We have one.”

“Yeah, and what do you think is more important? A destroyer, or Harmony?”

“Oh, right, right.”

“Like I said, too close for comfort,” Zenith continued. “While I do like the idea of extra engines and nose flaks, I think I will have to suggest filling out the slots with tri-artillery turrets. We get the first strike from relative safety, which sways the odds in our favour, even if the shells are nowhere near as devastating as an ion cannon.”

Soban scribbled down a few notes. “So we are in agreement? Three tri-artillery turrets, nose-mounted flak cannons and extra propulsion? Notify construction.”

“Yes sir.”

The Captain continued. “Okay, that takes care of that, then. Now, what are we going to about the strike-craft? Corona?”

“Your original suggestion works, but I recommend a slight amendment. How about five interceptors, four bombers, five gunships and four pulsar gunships? That way, we have a better defence against fighters.”

“I agree with Corona, Captain. Our required crew should then be … Multiplied by … Added to … Plus the three for the scout squadron … One hundred and seventy-four, at most. Minimum would be … One hundred and twenty-nine. That means we need seventy-five unicorns for this strike-craft combination. You may want to consider using more corvettes than fighters if we find ourselves short, sir.”

“That brings me to the final matter on this topic,” Zenith began. “After a quick run through the manifest, we barely meet the minimum number of unicorns, and according to the profiles of the pilots, it seems there is a highly disproportionate number with shielding proficiencies. Very few have mastered teleportation. Perhaps two fighter squadrons should be corvettes, and we forget about the scout squadron.”

Corona nodded. “It’s a minor change, but anything is better than nothing. I concur. If we remove one of each fighter type, add one of each corvette, and remove the scouts, we would require sixty-eight unicorns as part of the strike-craft crew. Likely that would still leave us with a teleportation skill deficiency, but at present, we only have a single interceptor and gunship squadron constructed, anyway.”

“Looks like we have come to an agreement, then. Now, we still have eleven hours before we arrive. I think it’s time to switch to the night crew rotation and rig for red. Dismissed.”

Captain Soban woke to the shrill ringing of an alarm blaring beside his bed. Two hours until arrival. Dragging himself out of bed, he showered, shaved and donned his uniform.

Adorned with epaulettes signifying Captaincy and ribbons just above his left breast pocket signifying his medals, Soban’s uniform was mostly black and trimmed red, according to the colour scheme of Hiigara’s Sobani vessels. The symbol of Kiith Soban, a thick ‘T’-shaped symbol with tapered ends, was worn as a patch on the left shoulder. The vertically aligned circles nestled between inverted wings were instantly recognisable to everyone as the Hiigaran symbol, and would be worn on the right shoulder of every Hiigaran, regardless of Kiith. Soban’s, however, had been altered slightly, to replace the two circles with the symbol of the sun and moon, based on the Princesses’ cutie marks.

A final inspection of his uniform confirmed everything was immaculate, and the Captain headed out for a quick breakfast before stepping foot on to the bridge.

“Morning, Captain!” Soban’s night-crew commander Midnight Oil greeted. “You’re just in time. Sarum is coming up on hyperspace coordinates in two minutes.”

“Thanks, Midnight. I trust we had no issues while I was away?”

“None whatsoever,” he yawned. “Aside from some night crew training, it has been fairly quiet, actually.”

Midnight Oil offered the Captain’s seat to Soban, who dismissed the dark-grey Earth-pony. Visibly exhausted, the second-in-command left the bridge without another word. Soban knew all too well how the effects of boredom and inactivity would accelerate the need to sleep. Perhaps the novelty of space travel wears off much faster for others, Soban thought, watching the dancing hyperspace phenomena slow and brighten to a momentary white flash, before fading into normal space.

Port-side, Soban saw the empty blackness of space. Starboard-side, he could see the dense clusters of stars that congregated into the disc and galactic centre of the galaxy. Ahead, shown on his view-screen, was a large, oblong structure with long, perpendicular sensor arrays.

“Hyperspace successful,” he announced to the bridge. “We have arrived at Sarum Outpost.”

The outpost made contact almost immediately. “Welcome to Sarum, flagship Harmony. Stand by as our technicians come aboard. ETA for ship-wide analysis is forty minutes.”

“Take your time. Our hyperspace module will require approximately one hour to charge, anyway,” the Captain responded. “Zenith, assign an escort to the technicians and direct them to engineering once aboard.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Emerging alone in orbit around the familiar planet Soban had now considered home, Harmony returned high above Equestria with a clean bill of health, and left its Hiigaran escorts back at Sarum. With all systems verified in working order, and the latest addition to the fleet nearing completion, the Equestrian fleet would soon be prepared to embark on their mission to locate the fifth core.

Zenith stared at the planet port-side of Harmony, then turned towards Soban in confusion. “Uhh, Captain? How exactly will Equestria know we have returned?”

“Oh they will know. I’m pretty sure Luna is—”

*POOF*

“Princess!”

“Good afternoon, Captain. I trust your journey went well?”

“Indeed it did, ma’am. We are ready to bring aboard the rest of our crew.”

“All four hundred and ninety?” Luna’s eyebrows rose.

“Ahh, when you put it that way, we can only accommodate three hundred and fifty crew aboard this vessel, so probably best to just bring aboard the strike-craft pilots. Oh, right, and another eighty can be brought aboard to transfer to our destroyer.”

“Of course. I may need to locate the pilots first, but I should have the destroyer crew within the minute. Do you have any specific deck or room you wish me to send them?”

“If you can, send the strike-craft unicorns to briefing room one, all other pilots to room two, and the destroyer crew to room th—”

“Captain, I am picking up a long range communication signal,” Zenith cut the Captain off. “It appears to be a distress call. Stand by for playback.”

The garbled signal barely made it through, filled with static and corrupt sections. “This is the Somtaaw— … Vessel Coor-Lan— … Any ships in the area— … Under attack— … Escort wiped out— … Hiding in an asteroid belt but we cannot— … Transmitting coordin—”

“That’s—that’s all I have, Captain,” Zenith hesitated.

“Did you receive the coordinates?”

“Yes, sir, a half hour jump from here. It’s actually on our way to the—”

“No time. Princess, forget the strike-craft crew. Bring the destroyer crew aboard immediately. We’re going to need Shining Armour for this one as well,” Soban ordered. Luna obeyed and disappeared immediately, while the Captain turned back towards his tactical officer. “Zenith, I want us in hyperspace the moment the drives are charged.”

Luna appeared once again near Soban. “Your destroyer crew await their briefing. Good luck,” Luna informed the Captain, promptly vanishing in another flash.

“Get those pilots sorted out, Zenith, then set coordinates for the Coor-Lan.”

7: Raids and Ransacks

“All crew to combat stations. Stand by for hyperspace exit.”

With preparations for battle complete well before arrival, the two strike-craft squadrons and Timberwolf, the new destroyer, were ready to launch immediately upon reaching their destination. Turrets, scanners, and the eyes of every crew member frantically scanned the surroundings for signs of the Coor-Lan. For signs of danger. For signs of anything.

Nothing. Not even a whisper or shadow was detected.

“It’s possible we may have sensor interference, Captain,” Zenith noted. “Visibility seems sub-par to me, as well. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we were inside something. This place looks like a dense dust cloud.”

“Correct, Zenith.,” Soban stated, observing the dark environment filled with a faint maroon light. “It’s a molecular cloud; the birthplace of planets and stars. That explains why the Coor-Lan was mining in he—no, irrelevant, let’s focus on the matter at hand. The transmission said they were hiding in an asteroid belt. All ships, look for a—”

“Asteroid belt sighted!” a corvette pilot interjected. “Relaying position data.”

Soban watched as a blip of the relevant position was highlighted on his sensors. “Full forward! Interceptors, move up and assume an observing position. Gunships, cover their rear. If you so much as think something is coming towards you, return to Harmony immediately. I’ve never lost a single life under my command, and I don’t plan on starting any time soon. Timberwolf, remain in formation, but be prepared to broadside.”

The long, sleek destroyer turned itself ninety degrees to present its side, and more importantly, its three triple-barrelled turrets to the collection of asteroids off in the distance. The similarity to seafaring naval warships was uncanny, both in the stance assumed, and in the general appearance of the vessel.

As Harmony and Timberwolf approached the asteroid vein, the interceptors scouted ahead to survey the surroundings. Several passes and flybys later, one of the pilots made out a large, gashed storage container, pivoting slowly as it drifted away from the belt.

“A resource canister,” Soban mused. “Continue your search. Shining Armour, I want you ready with that shield at the first sign of trouble.”

“Understood, Captain.”

Advancing cautiously towards the denser portions of the belt, the interceptors came across a large debris field, littered with the remains of small fighters and frigates, all Kiith Somtaaw’s.

“Sweet Celestia, this place is a tomb,” one of the pilots commented. “I think we can assume the worst.”

“Hey! Focus!” Soban snapped. “Find the Coor-Lan before making assumptions! You can’t miss the giant mining ship.”

“No, sir, I can’t. I think—I think I’m looking at it right now. Stand by, transmitting visual.”

The images on Harmony’s view-screen confirmed the Captain’s fears. The chunky mining vessel drifted lazily past the asteroids in three pieces, and the engine section had lodged itself into a crater on a nearby asteroid. An occasional spark of electricity arced and flashed across one of the many breaches in the segments at random intervals.

“One-thousand five-hundred crew would have been aboard her,” Soban noted, a tinge of disbelief showing through his normally stoic demeanour.

“Wh—who would do such a thing?” Zenith wondered. “What possible gain would there be in destroying a mining vessel?”

“It wasn’t simply attacked. It was hunted. Look over there”—the Captain pointed at the visual feed—“at those top sections that appear to be slashed. Those are the resource canisters. The Coor-Lan was looted for its resources.”

“By whom?”

“That’s what I intend to find out.” Soban turned from Zenith and began a radio transmission. “Interceptors, return to Harmony. Gunships, stand by for more escort duties. Protect our resource collector while it retrieves the bridge data recorder.”

BRIDGE AUDIO/DATA RECORDER
COOR-LAN
DEEP-SPACE MINER, EXPLORER-CLASS
9626.32 GSY

TRANSMISSION, AUDIO
Local resources depleted, fleet. Moving on.

BRIDGE, AUDIO
Confirmed. All collectors, continue harvesting at the provided coordinates.

OUTGOING DATA TRANSMISSION
SHORT-RANGE RELATIVE COORDINATES
021,055,986

COLLISION WARNING

BRIDGE, AUDIO
Whoah! Getting a little turbulent here. Fighters, keep an eye out for fast-moving asteroids. All frigates, be prepared to clear a path for the command ship.

TRANSMISSION, AUDIO
Copied.

BRIDGE, AUDIO
Commence status report.

LEVEL 1 STATUS REPORT

PRIMARY SYSTEMS: ONLINE
SECONDARY SYSTEMS: ONLINE
HULL INTEGRITY: WITHIN ACCEPTABLE TOLERANCES

1 CAUTION REPORT

SENSOR READINGS SHOW FLUCTUATIONS
RECOMMEND RECALIBRATION

END CAUTION REPORT

END STATUS REPORT

BRIDGE, AUDIO
We’re fine, it just brushed us. Fighters, our sensors are having issues in this region. It’s up to you to spot the asteroids. I don’t want to miss something that big again.

TRANSMISSION, AUDIO
Command, I’m picking up anomalous readings from one of the larger asteroids. May need to investigate further, but according to my scan—

BRIDGE, AUDIO
Say again?

Collector fourteen, repeat.

Collector twenty-one, you’re the closest to fourteen. We may be having communication issues. Reestablish contact and relay any messages if necessary.

Collector twenty-one?

All combat vessels to full alert until we re-establish communication or visual contact.

TRANSMISSION, AUDIO
Collector seven under attack! Fighters inbound! Somebody hel—

BRIDGE, AUDIO
Collector seven? All collectors retreat to the command ship immediately. Combat vessels, assume formation bravo and cover the collectors.

TRANSMISSION, AUDIO
Yes, sir.

Collector nineteen under attack! It’s—shit, Raiders inbound! I—I don’t believe it, they have a cruiser! Kiith’s blood, it’s huge!

WARNING
HYPERSPACE INHIBITOR FIELD DETECTED

BRIDGE, AUDIO
Nineteen, repeat? Did you say Raiders? Turanic Raiders?

TRANSMISSION, AUDIO
Collector two under—FUUUUU—

BRIDGE, AUDIO
Two, respond! Nineteen? Dammit! Any combat vessels reading? I need eyes out ther—Oh. Oh, my.

LONG-RANGE EMERGENCY BEACON ACTIVATED

LONG-RANGE OUTGOING TRANSMISSION, AUDIO
This is the Somtaaw vessel Coor-Lan to any ships in the area …

The recording came to an abrupt halt, leaving the bridge completely silent, save for the quiet hum of Harmony’s engines. Captain Soban sat in disbelief and merely shook his head.

“I know the Raiders have been a major pain across the galaxy recently, but for them to possess something as large as a cruiser? It just doesn’t go well with their hit-and-run methods. Why the sudden change? Why now?”

The Captain considered his options. “It’s not safe here. Everypony is to remain at combat stations until our hyperspace module is charged. Timberwolf, track anything out of the ordinary. I don’t care if it’s an asteroid. If it moves towards us, shoot it. Unload everything on to it. Stand by, we are moving into more open space.”

“Wouldn’t we be more vulnerable there?” Zenith pondered. “Shouldn’t we hide while we charge the module?”

“Didn’t do the Coor-Lan much good, did it? Besides, the asteroids are the very things I’m worried about. Common Raider tactics involve disguising as asteroids until an unsuspecting ship gets too close. Keep your eyes peeled. All the asteroids should be similar to each other, and follow a similar pattern in their motion.”

“Captain, hyperspace signature detected!” Zenith reported. “It’s Hiigaran.”

Surveying the area, the battlecruiser Liir pulled up alongside Harmony and made contact. “Soban,” Captain Paktu acknowledged curtly. “Do you mind telling me what in Kharak happened here?”

“The Coor-Lan has been destroyed,” Soban replied frankly. “Transmitting relevant data recorder information as we speak. The Turanic Raiders are behind this. Keep alert, they may still be hiding nearby. We can get you out of here once our hyperspace module is charged.”

“Get me out of here? Are you just going to let this slide?” Paktu’s irritated voice blared throughout Harmony’s bridge. “Our people are dead, and you want to just leave? They deserve retribution, you coward!”

“Oh, I’m a coward, huh?” Soban grew equally irritated. “Alright, let’s assume the Raiders are still here and hiding, for starters. We have no idea how many could be nearby, and you want to just go in with all guns blazing? Excuse me for putting the safety of my ship and crew in front of my list of things I have blown up. Do you still keep that in your left pocket?”

“Why you insolent excuse for a—”

“I think we’ve heard enough of him for a while,” the Captain terminated Paktu’s message “He can wait for his own hyperspace module to charge. Zenith, are we charged?”

“Yes, sir. Course is already laid in, and our strike-craft have already docked.”

“Very well. Engage hyperspace. Excuse me, I have a report to submit to the Hiigaran Defence Fleet. You have the bridge, Zenith.”

“You, uhh, wanted to see me, Captain?” Shining Armour poked his head into Soban’s office.

The Captain turned away from the flaming artwork of hyperspace that served as a backdrop to an entire side of the office. “Yes, Shining. Please sit. You and I haven’t had much of a chance to sit down and discuss things, given our busy schedules and recent events.”

Shining Armour blinked. “Things, sir?”

“I refer to our little altercation, a few weeks ago,” the Captain replied uneasily. “The one aboard Manaan.”

“Oh. That.” The white unicorn flattened his ears and shifted anxiously, making an effort to stare at anything other than Soban. The pen on the floor seemed especially appealing.

“Mmm. I’ve been meaning to apologise about that. I shouldn’t have done that to you, and I sincerely regret it. The last thing I want is to have resentment aboard my ship, be it towards me or towards other crew members.”

“I …” Shining Armour sighed, painfully meeting the Captain’s gaze. “I can understand why you did what you did. I was out of line, and after everything I said, I deserved it.”

“No you didn’t, Shining. Not in the slightest. Truth be told, I was mainly putting on an act to stop morale from dropping even further. Everypony on the bridge was worried. Frightened, even. I thought it might help if I showed a little authoritative strength, but I cannot justify my actions toward you with that.”

“If I recall correctly, I did push you to it. Literally. Still, what’s done is done. Forgive and forget, right?”

“Right. Now then, a few of us are meeting for lunch. You’re more than welcome to join us if you want.”

Shining Armour eased up a little. “I’d like that,” he smiled.

Shining Armour frowned, trotting alongside the Captain as they searched for an empty table. “I don’t get it. One moment you seem so concerned about the loss of those lives, and now you’re acting as if nothing ever happened. How can you do that? How can you simply shrug it off?”

“It comes with this line of work. I can’t afford to dwell on such thoughts. Besides, their deaths were neither the result of my actions, nor preventable by me, so my conscience is clean. I thought you of all ponies would have been taught something like that.”

“It’s an important part of officer training, but I’ve never given it much thought.” Shining lowered his dandelion sandwich and salad onto a free table. Settling in, he continued. “After all, Equestria has always had peace. Sure, there have been a few internal conflicts, and there was that one changeling invasion that didn’t even last a day, but there hasn’t been a death in the military for many generations. The worst we’ve had were some minor injuries, but that’s about it.”

“Most officers I know would envy you and your military,” Soban remarked, turning to greet the pair of newcomers. “Hey, Zenith! Firelance. Where’s Nova?”

“Glued to his chair and playing with his ion cannon. At least I’ve got enough self-control to pull myself away from mine.” Firelance rolled his eyes, before they widened in realisation. “Oh horseapples, that was not a euphemism!”

“That’s disgusting, Firelance!” Zenith admonished, mortified by the charming mental images Firelance’s words had conjured up.

“Friends of yours, sir?” Shining asked, stifling a snicker.

The Captain gestured towards the copper-coated pony. “Shining, this is my tactical officer, Zenith. I believe you two have met before. Wait, who’s got the bridge?”

“The XO took over. Said he couldn’t sleep, so we swapped duties.” Pushing her glasses up over her head to rest on her neatly trimmed, brown mane, Zenith turned to the white unicorn. “Good to see you again, Shining Armour. Truth be told, I feel much safer knowing you are aboard.”

Shining Armour grinned. “I hope I don’t disappoint. And I definitely recognise that mane from Manaan as well!” he addressed the pegasus.

“Yep, this big idiot here”—Soban slapped the pegasus on the back—“is my drinking partner Firelance. Aboard Harmony, he is also my dorsal ion cannon gunner. Firelance, I’m sure you’re aware of who Shining is, but just to refresh your memory, he is currently Harmony’s walking shield generator.”

The social gathering between Soban and his three crew-mates quickly came to a close, as Harmony returned to its proverbial throne high up above Equestria and their homeworld. The sight of the blue and green planet abeam the flagship prompted the Captain to return to be bridge, except …

*POOF*

Appearing out of thin air and zooming across the room into a crumpled heap in the corner, two figures scrambled to their hooves. While one appeared to be bursting with excitement and anticipation, the other had a look of sheer irritation.

“Rainbow! I told you multiple times you were not to come aboard with me!” Twilight yelled. “It’s bad enough that one member of the Elements is aboard. Do you know how hard we are to replace if something bad should happen?”

Rainbow Dash placed a hoof to her face. “Ugh, here we go again. Twilight Safety Sparkle is back. Too late now. We’re here. I wanna look around, shoot some stuff and maybe get my hooves on one of those fast little ships. Hey! We should totally have a race!”

“No, Dash, I’m taking you back right now!”

“What? Oh, come on! What makes you so special that you get to stay?”

“I was requested to come aboard. You were not. Now let’s go.”

“Hay no!”

“One moment, Captain. I’ll fix this,” Twilight apologised, catching sight of the fleeing pegasus. “Get back here, you!”

*POOF*

“Huh?”

Twilight appeared beside Rainbow Dash, who immediately pounced upon the confused pegasus. In a puff of purple light, the two disappeared, leaving an entire mess deck full of stunned crew members.

One of the griffons finally broke the silence. “Okay, what was that all ab—”

*POOF*

The lavender unicorn burst in a second time, now with two passengers clinging to either of her forelegs.

“WHEEEEE, WE’RE IN SPACE AGAIN!” the all-too-familiar pink mare bobbed up and down, her stark lack of an indoor voice painfully obvious.

“You know what?” Twilight huffed. “I’m not going to bother. I give up.”

“It’s alright Twilight, I don’t mind,” the Captain assured her, wincing as Pinkie broke out into song. “Much.”

Twilight snorted. “Yes, well, if anypony needs me, I’ll be with the research division. A word of advice, Captain; keep Pinkie away from sugar, and Rainbow from anything fast.”

“Oohh, griffons!” Pinkie weaved between the confused and bewildered crew. “They’re just gonna loooove my party cannon!”

“Did she just say a party ca—”

*BOOM!*

*SPLAT!*

…

“Oopsie tootsie! I must have put the maple syrup into the wrong cannon!” Pinkie tittered while peeling the unfortunate griffon from the wall with an oversized spatula. Falling to the floor with a sickening squelch, the wall remained decorated with the splayed-wings outline of the dazed victim.

The Captain sighed. “Get a medic down here to make sure that griffon is alright. And somepony clean up this mess. I’ve got work to do.”

Mere moments after Soban stepped foot on to the bridge, Luna had appeared, her timing impeccable as always.

“What happened, Captain? Are you all safe? What of the others?” Luna asked, her voice carrying more concern than she would have liked to admit.

“We’re fine, ma’am. Can’t say the same for the Coor-Lan, though. We—We were too late.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Luna bowed her head in respect. Meeting Soban’s eyes again, she continued. “Captain, if I may be blunt, I wish to express my concern for this mission of yours.”

“I have my own concerns as well, but this is something that has to be done. This is beyond just the Elements. This is destiny. This is a prophecy incomplete. It’s not something I can explain easily to you, but soon I will make you aware of everything in detail. Now, back on topic. This will be a long journey, but we will be bolstering our fleet defences along the way. Two opportunities will present themselves, as our hyperspace module will not take us all the way in one go. By the time we arrive, we should have a substantial fleet at our disposal.”

Luna sighed. “Very well. Your word puts me at relative ease, but my eyes shall remain skyward until your return. I would most certainly like to hear more of this so-called prophecy of yours. In any case, the rest of the crew have been transferred to the briefing rooms. Please take care of them, or I will hold you personally responsible for their fates.”

“Understood, ma’am.”

Without another word, Princess Luna returned to the world below. Despite his many years of service and experience, the Captain felt something a little more than the usual nervousness that accompanied a journey into the unknown. Was it fear? Did the Princess inspire such thoughts in the Captain’s mind with both her words, and the eerily calm tone in which she spoke them?

Catching himself before slipping into another reverie, Soban turned to his right-hand mare. “Zenith, I’ll be briefing the new crew and pilots myself. Notify me when the hyperspace module is charged, and then set a course for the Great Nebula of Kadesh.”

8: The Minaret of Kadesh

We hear nothing there. Even the Taiidan fear the Great Nebula. No-one returns.

The Bentusi, Exile Era, 9509.5 GSY

“WHAT’CHA DOIN’?” the piercing voice of the pink pony marked the end of the fifteen-minute silence Soban had relished in his office. He considered himself lucky. Fifteen minutes was a new record, but now he had to deal with the pair of blue eyes that hovered in front of him, blocking the view of deep-space on the rearward-facing window.

“Just looking outside.” Soban sighed. It was too early to deal with her, especially after a minor incident involving a reactor coolant leak in engineering had dragged the Captain away from his slumber almost four hours after finally drifting off to an uneasy sleep.

At the very least, it left Captain Soban awake long before their arrival at the end of the first leg of the journey. After assigning the collector to harvest a large asteroid nearby, sending the gunship squadron to escort the collector and ordering the interceptors to patrol the surrounding area, Soban decided to wait out the hour-long hyperdrive recharge in his office by admiring the backdrop of countless pinpricks of twinkling light outside. At least, until Pinkie Pie casually entered via an air vent.

“Pinkie, I mean no offence by this, but why exactly did you come aboard?”

“How could I resist?” she bounced on the spot, her eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. “As soon as I heard you were all going to some far-away place with aliens, I just had to! I can see it now. My very first space party with ponies and griffons and aliens. Oh, it would spectacularific!”

“Hate to break it to you, but these guys are likely going to attack us on sight. They are religious fanatics who give two options to any who pass through; join, or die.”

“That doesn’t sound very nice of them!” Pinkie pouted.

“Mmm,” Soban grunted.

“Well, I think it’s a challenge! Gimme some time with them, and I’ll bet you a triple-frosted, multi-layered, chestnut-puree and whipped cream cake with a large—mmmmmm, I could totally go for one of those right now. Wait, what was I—oh, right! Challenge!”

“I get the point, Pinkie. Like I said, though, it’s going to be pretty much impossible to reason with them.”

“Then, why are you going to this nebula place thingy?” she cocked her head to one side.

“Our mission is neither to make peace with them, nor to seek them out. We are to travel through and search for a unique anomaly on one of our instruments, detected within a radius of a few hundred light-years from any of the ancient hyperspace cores. If we do find something, then we may have to make contact, and maybe, just maybe, we could forge some kind of diplomatic relations with them.”

“I didn’t understand half of that, but that’s okay! It’s like when I was watching Twilight do her funny experiments in your big lab.”

“She still with the research crew? What is she up to?”

Pinkie shrugged. “I ‘unno. She’s playing with those things she calls a spectrothingamabob and making reports for Princess Luna. She’s written so much that you could swim in those papers! But then Twilight got mad at me and threw me out, so now I’m here. I should see what Rainbow Dash is up to.” With a hop, she bounced up into the same air vent. “Later!”

Soban pointed to his most accustomed method of entering his office. “The door … It’s right there, Pinkie.”

“Dashie’s room is faster to reach from here. It’s a simple left, down, right, right, left, right, down, left, and you’re there! I got all the routes memorised.”

“But that’s—,” Pinkie did not stick around to hear the Captain’s befuddled protesting. He stopped as he watched her rump squeeze into the vent, and shook his head as the sound of rapid hoofsteps faded off into the distance.

“Ahh, Captain Soban! Just the guy I was about to contact!” a white griffon covered in oil poked his head out of what appeared to be the innards of a semi-constructed probe engine in the construction bay. Rolling out and attempting to straighten his ruffled and greased-up feathers, he proceeded to clean up his workspace. “I’m Spanner, head of construction, but my friends call me the manic mechanic!”

“Manic—What?”

“Let’s just say I earned that title after … Ahh, let’s just say it was an event involving high voltage, alligator clips, some body parts of mine, and a fire extinguisher.” The griffon couldn’t help but grin at the half-confused, half-alarmed expression on the Captain’s face. “Anyway, was gonna to give you a buzz to confirm this construction list, but now that you’re here, shoot. Got enough material to build half a destroyer. Do you really want to make a bunch of tiny little fighters?”

“It’s certainly tempting. They make for some great defensive ships, and we aren’t meant to be on the offensive, so why not? Might as well get it out of the way now, even if we have to stay longer than an hour here for harvesting. Have you seen the corridors here? They are packed with idle crew members. Might as well kick them off and give them a new home. Can’t really do that with strike-craft, so those pilots are stuck here regardless.”

“Right, they have to dock every time we want to enter hyperspace, don’t they? Alrighty, so same weapon assortment as the Timberwolf, then?”

Soban nodded. “The very same. Once your team is done, get a mobile refinery built before working on the strike-craft list. Our resourcing operations need to be sped up.”

“Oh, good choice. More of those precious resources for me to play with!” Spanner tapped his talons together, a loony little glimmer in his eyes. “Interesting things, those refineries. Read up on their technical details. Mini-wormhole creation though specially charged plates at the transmitting and receiving ends? Genius!”

“Funnily enough, it was an accidental discovery. Anyway, what’s our ETA on everything?”

“Assuming an uninterrupted supply of resources, I’d say about thirty-four hours for the destroyer, thirteen hours for the mobile refinery and nine hours for the first full interceptor squadron. Give or take, of course.”

Soban hummed. “Alright, if that’s the fastest we can do, it might be worth delaying the journey for a few hours. At least it gives our collector more time to harvest—”

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” the voice of a cyan pegasus echoed from the upper decks of the mostly empty construction facility. Gliding between scaffolding as she approached, Rainbow Dash planted her hooves on the ground near the Captain. “Do you mind tell—Oh, sorry. Was I interrupting?”

Soban turned to the griffon. “I think that was all, yes? You can take it from here, can’t you, Spanner?”

“Leave it to me and my guys! We’ll get right on it!” Spanner shook loose several screws and washers from one of his wings and took off.

“So what’s up, Dash?”

“Okay, I know Twilight said I’m not allowed to go flying around in one of your fast ships and all, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Whaddya say? When it’s safe to do so, of course. I don’t wanna get in the way or anything.”

“I—Er—I’ll have to think about that.”

“Cool, cool. No problem. Take your time. Just see if you can get the Wonderbolts to watch. Or better yet, join in!”

“Wonder—You mean those ones who wear the blue outfits and perform aerial tricks?”

“Yup, that’s them!”

“What would they be doing here?”

Rainbow Dash’s face fell. “You—You mean out of all the ponies that got to be on this ship, the best, most awesomest fliers in all of Equestria didn’t make it?”

“Well, I wasn’t in charge of your selection process, so I can’t say for certain why, but there could be a few reasons. Either they didn’t want to, or they just didn’t pass mission suitability.”

“Wonderbolts? Fail?” Rainbow’s mouth hung open in disbelief. “That’s impossible, I can assure you of that,” she declared with a confident nod.

“Don’t be so sure, now. They might be talented in what they do, but the strenuous physical and psychological testing eventually gets the better of most applicants. Then there is the consideration of their talents. As impressive as flying stunts are, there’s just no use for it here. This doesn’t make the Wonderbolts useless or weak, mind you, but there is a reason why most of our crew have military backgrounds.”

Rainbow folded her forehooves. “Hmph. Well this sucks. One of the reasons I came here was to be around them and maybe impress them a bit. What am I gonna do now?”

“Well, what do you normally do in Ponyville?”

“Eh, when I’m not working the clouds, I’m either practising some of my amazing stunts, or just hanging out with my friends. But there’s not enough room to fly much in here, and Twilight is off somewhere doing her boring egghead science stuff.”

“Pinkie was looking for you earlier.”

“Yeah, I know. She ditched me ten minutes later after she saw something shiny.”

Captain Soban raised an eyebrow. “Right, well I’m afraid I’m going to have to ditch you as well. I’ve got to prepare my materials for the next crew briefing.”

“Oh. Okay. I don’t suppose there’s anything fun to do around here, is there?”

“Probably not. Your best bet will be to just socialise down on the mess deck. Speaking of, I think Pinkie was looking for you earlier on.”

“Oh, I almost forgot about her! You got anypony around who can help pull her out of an air vent? She got stuck.”

Soban’s eye twitched.

“… However, I cannot stress enough that you must know your limitations. Don’t get overconfident because you can teleport or make a little shield for yourselves. Don’t take any chances, and always remain alert, even when we are not at combat alert. Getting caught off-guard could make the difference between life and death, either for you, or for others around you.”

Captain Soban paused, scanning the full briefing room of interceptor pilots.

“Before I wrap this up, I would like to say one final thing. Interceptors are responsible for patrols, escort duties and most importantly, for countering hostile fighters, with priorities on anti-capital-ship fighters. As such, it is understandable that you may feel your role is insignificant, but that is far from the truth. While you are not the hard-hitters of our fleet, you are valuable in early warnings and taking out the smaller ships larger turrets can’t track. Now then, questions? Yes, you with the orange mane.”

“I, uhh … do we …” the pilot fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. “If and when we attack others, are we going to have to … y’know … kill?”

The Captain hesitated at the unusual question. “That’s sort of the point, pilot. Why?”

“Oh. It’s just that nopony has ever killed another. Not even in the royal guard.”

“Oh shit,” Soban muttered to himself. “Alright, look, we aren’t going to start fights, but there is a good chance we might get into one. What you have to remember is that it is either you, or them. We do not wish to instigate anything, but if we fall under attack, you will have to defend.”

“Can’t we just take away their ability to fight?” the pilot asked.

“You mean disabling their weapons? Yes, it is possible, but if the point is not to kill, it would really only work on larger vessels. Fighters, corvettes and in most cases even frigates would suffer too much internal damage to keep their occupants alive.”

The pilot slowly exhaled and eventually nodded. “Alright, we were told we might have to do it. We were all well aware of that possibility. How—How hard could it possibly be?”

Captain Soban didn’t answer, nodding instead and concluding his briefing. He knew how easy it was to take many lives and cope with such actions, but then again, the history of the Hiigarans was stained with the blood of thousands of years of warfare. The millennia-old war that forced them into exile, the destruction of their exile world Kharak four thousand years later, the war against a techno-organic subversion entity, and the war for Sajuuk. Every war, every skirmish, every aggressive encounter that involved the Hiigarans was concluded with gruesome trails of destruction across the stars.

Still, that was Hiigaran history. The pilots with Soban were uninitiated. Inexperienced. Innocent. The Captain knew extinguishing lives became easier with time, especially when one cannot look upon the face of the enemy, but for a race that never even knew murder or warfare in the truest sense of the word, Soban felt a pang of guilt for what may follow in the upcoming days.

Zenith was resting her head on a hoof and idly counting stars, when the Captain returned to the bridge. “Sir, the hyperspace module has been fully charged for the last four hours. What are we doing, anyway?”

“We need to delay our journey, so we can assemble a second destroyer and have it ready by the time we arrive at the nebula,” Soban explained. “We might need it. Plus, we could definitely use the extra resources. Speaking of which, I think our collector is returning with the last load as we speak.”

With rather impressive timing, the collector pilot’s reported his final load. “Nothing but gravel out here.”

“Great work. Dock at your assigned hangar bay once you have dropped off your resources. Strike-craft, that goes for all of you as well. We depart in five minutes.”

Captain Soban stared out of the port-side bridge windows, watching the line of tiny vessels return to Harmony and dock in the underbelly of the flagship. Once the final strike-craft had docked successfully, the Captain readied his ship and notified Timberwolf. Once again, Harmony hummed with the buildup of power that would send the fleet back into faster-than-light travel in three … two … one …

“Hyperspace initiated.”

It had been another day in the realms of hyperspace for the budding Equestrian fleet, and even as they approached the end of the second leg of their journey, Twilight was nowhere to be seen, nor had she responded to any calls or announcements over the internal comms since arriving aboard. Soban was fairly certain he knew where she had disappeared to, but had been too preoccupied to check in on her personally.

Leaving the bridge to his second-in-command, the Captain eventually set off for the research lab, located all the way back in the rearward sections of Harmony. What he saw stunned him. Pinkie did not exaggerate when she said one could swim in the sheer number of papers filling the room. The lab looked like small city, with pillars of papers rivalling Soban in height. Lab equipment on the once-organised desks were buried under scrolls, and the off-white walls were hidden behind even more papers tacked on to them. It was almost a hedge-maze of research papers containing complex calculations, observational notes, schematics, and several other things the Captain could not make heads or tails of.

Navigating his way into the centre of the room, he found the lavender unicorn alone, surrounded by levitating pieces of parchment, along with multiple quills that had lives of their own as they frantically scribbled whatever Twilight was working on.

“Oh, hello, Captain,” she yawned. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

“Twilight, I— … What are you doing?” Soban swept the lab with his eyes. “What are all of these?”

“Just a few notes I’m compiling on several broad topics, including astronomy and magic. Nopony has ever really looked into the technical and physical side of magic before. At least, not in great detail, considering we lack most of this sophisticated equipment.”

The Captain chuckled, slightly bemused. “You certainly seem to have the detail part covered. Have you even slept yet?”

“Oh it’s just one night of lost sleep”—Twilight waved her hoof in dismissal—“it’s not that big a deal.”

“It is if you’ve been exerting yourself. Look at you, you can barely keep your balance. And you’re sitting! Come on. Bed. Now.”

“Just a few more hours! I’ll be done with the first half by the—YAAARRGH!”

Slinging the mare over his shoulder, Soban exited the lab and headed for the crew quarters, with Twilight squirming and protesting the entire way.

“Alright, which room is yours?”

“Actually, there weren’t any left. My intention was to sleep in the lab.”

Soban sighed. “Take my quarters, then. Once our next destroyer is complete, the crew will transfer, and you can take one of their rooms.”

“I can’t do that! Where are you going to sleep?”

“It’s just one night of lost sleep. It’s not that big a deal,” he mimicked the unicorn.

Lumbering into his quarters, Soban deposited Twilight onto the bed, eliciting a small ‘oof’ from her as she flopped on to it. He couldn’t help but chuckle again as Twilight frowned up at him, her mane now looking rather bedraggled.

“Now promise me you will get some shut-eye. I’ll know if you try to sneak back into the lab, so don’t make me lock you out of there permanently.”

“Alright, fine.” Twilight rolled her eyes at the patronising threat. “Hey, Captain? One last thing …”

“Yes?”

“Thanks. I know I can sometimes get a little carried away, but it takes somepony else to make me realise it.”

Soban nodded with a grin. He flicked off the lights, shut the door behind him and returned to the bridge.

“Change of plans, Midnight. Take the day off and take over tomorrow.”

“You sure, Captain? You look dead on your hoov—uhh, feet.”

“Nothing a few strong cups of tea can’t fix. Besides, I’ve had worse days, trust me.”

“Okay, well waypoint two is coming up on coordinates momentarily, and I’ve already cleared the collector for launch upon arrival, along with … Basically, I issued the same orders you sent back at waypoint one.”

“Good job, Midnight. Dismissed.”

The fleet spent several uneventful hours holding position, allowing the collector to gather construction material for the destroyer that had neared completion. Leaving the area barren, Harmony stored the resources, and resumed their hyperspace journey toward their primary objective.

“Alright, crew, this is it,” Soban announced. “In a few minutes, we will exit hyperspace along the outskirts of the Great Nebula. We will conduct a parallel search pattern, during which time we will monitor our instruments for a unique quantum wave distortion. If we find what we are looking for, we investigate. If not? Well, we head home and figure something else out. Be advised, we will be under full combat alert for the duration of our stay here.”

The transition from hyperspace left the fleet surrounded and stunned by the brilliant jubilee of red and orange hues, with countless irregular clumps of condensed clouds that were clear indicators to the crew they were without a doubt inside the Great Nebula. It was almost surreal with its beauty and tranquillity, though given the circumstances for their visit, none aboard gave the environment a great deal of thought, all investing their focus on their assigned tasks.

The poor visibility made the foreboding celestial body a perfect sanctuary to hide in … Or conduct a devastating ambush. Zenith seemed to be grimly aware of this fact, as Soban noticed her tense up in his peripheral vision. She was staring open-mouthed and wide-eyed at her sensors, noting hundreds, if not thousands of blips representing unknown vessels around them. A single bead of sweat began to form along her forehead when she discovered the blips were popping in and out of existence.

“It’s alright, Zenith,” the Captain assured her. “They aren’t really there. The nebula is incredibly rich with energy, to the point where sensors are almost completely useless. You know, it’s funny. We haven’t been here in over a century, and our technology still hasn’t been able to work around this problem.”

“Good news, Captain,” Spanner messaged the bridge. “Your destroyer is good to go. The last of the crew have just transferred over, and we should be ready to launch within the minute. You gonna name it now, or … ?”

“Hold on one moment.” Soban switched the communications channel. “Hey Firelance, what was that suggestion you had a while back for a ship name?”

“Uhh not sure what you are—Oh! You mean Luna’s Wrath?”

“No, there was another one you mentioned. I think.”

“Ahh, it was Ursa Major.”

“That’s the one! Thanks ‘Lance,” the Captain flipped back to the previous channel. “Still here, Spanner? Register the ship under the name Ursa Major, then cut her loose.”

“Done and done! The berth is clear and assembly on the mobile refinery is underway. You should see your shiny new destroyer emerging just about … nnnnnnow! Don’t scratch that fine paint-job of mine, or you’ll be buffing it out yourself! Spanner out.”

“Harmony? Ursa Major requesting a comms check.”

“I read you five by five,” Soban replied. “Now get yourself in formation.”

“Will do.”

Captain Soban watched as the Ursa Major glided over Harmony and came to a halt a few hundred metres off the starboard-side, balancing out the fleet formation with the Timberwolf to the port-side. Soban felt more satisfied with the fleet, though mainly due to his slight obsession with symmetry.

“Right, back to work, everypony,” he announced, his eyes returning to dart back and forth across his instruments. “Zenith, have sensors picked up anything new, yet?”

“I really can’t tell, sir. Everything is everywhere. What exactly am I supposed to look for?”

“Anything consistent. Anything larger than us. Anything with a steady trajectory.”

“I’m doing my best to filter out anything that doesn’t match that criteria, but so far? No, nothing new, assuming I haven’t missed anything.”

“I’m sure you haven’t.” Soban continued to rub the stubble across his chin in thought. “Odd, though. No hyperspace inhibitor fields detected, nothing on sensors and no attempts at contact. They would have been alerted to our presence long ago, so this place should already be swarming with them, no pun intended.”

“Pun, sir?”

“Oh, their fighters are called swarmers, because they attack with them in … well, large swarms. Regardless, not that I’m complaining, but what are they up to if they aren’t here yet?” he continued rubbing his chin. “Let me know when the hyperdrive is charged again, Zenith. I don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary.”

After another uneventful hour, the newly expanded fleet returned to hyperspace to continue their search, but after a second and third stop, the fleet had made no headway with their mission objectives. By the time the fleet approached the next stop, even the Captain seemed fed up.

“Look on the bright side, sir,” Zenith suggested. “This extra time has allowed construction to complete a mobile refinery and several fighter squadrons. Including our two original squadrons, we now have a total of four interceptor squads, a bomber squad and our gunship corvette squad.”

“I suppose,” Soban relented, clearing his throat. “Alright, stand by for hyperspace exit. Again.”

As Harmony entered the heart of the nebula, her crew hastily shielded their eyes from the excessively bright-red surroundings. The crew squinted and remained teary-eyed for the better part of a minute, as they grew accustomed to the intense light.

“Okay, its official”—Zenith raised her hooves and leaned back in defeat—“Sensors are completely out. These readings make no sense whatsoever. According to this, there seems to be an enormous object approximately three hundred kilometres away. It’s moving extremely fast, but it … isn’t moving? I may have also detected that anomaly we have been looking for, but the reading was so brief, I could have simply misread.”

“Only one way to find out what is going on here.” The Captain leaned towards his communications systems. “Spanner? Is that probe you were working on earlier operational? Can you send it to the following coordinates … ?”

“Probe is online and transmitting data,” Zenith informed Soban. “Estimated time until visual contact with the object is four seconds.”

…

“What. Is. THAT?”

Sensors did not lie. The colossal body the probe now focused its full attention to was clearly Progenitor in design. A pair of concentric, ovular torus rings rotated at frightening speeds, while a smaller object floated within, channelling a visible stream of pure-white energy between itself and the rings’ apexes. It was what the fleet had come for: The fifth hyperspace core.

“Aaaaand we’ve lost visual. The probe is still online, but we aren’t receiving any new information.” Zenith furrowed her brow. Scanning the information printed on her screens, she continued. “Data received moments before the feed loss confirm the energy-field anomaly that identifies the core. There is no doubt the core is here. What do we—Hold on, we got the feed back. Looks like the probe is also transmitting … Audio? Uhh, stand by for playback.”

Captain Soban instantly recognised the bone-chillingly low, echoing voice that spoke slowly to the fleet.

“That stench. That … horrible stench. You have some nerve, returning. Was the desecration of our Garden … insufficient, for you and your … foul ships? Have you come to … defile our holy Minaret?”

“My name is Captain Soban. I have been tasked with investigating the whereabouts of an ancient hyperspace core, which resides in this area. I wish to negotiate. To whom am I speaking with?”

“My name is irrelevant,” the voice snapped. “What divine being bestows you with such … audacity? Why have you taken an interest with our … possession? Speak quickly. Our patience wears thin, and your time is … running out.”

“What exactly is that device?”

“If you must know, it is how we trap prey, such as … yourselves.”

“So the hyperspace core powers it?” Soban ignored the voice’s implication.

“The clock is ticking, Captain.”

“Oh, come on! Why do you and your kind insist on hiding in this nebula? You know who we are, so you must also know you and I are one and the same. Our origins are of the same planet. What possible reason is there for you to remain here? You are Hiigara—”

“Do not tell us what we are!” the voice hissed. “We are the children of Kadesh, and you … you are trespassers. You know your two choices, so what will it be?”

“Please don’t let it end like this,” Soban pleaded.

“Wrong answer.”

“Communications have been cut, Captain,” Zenith called out. “Sensors are still scrambled, but I’m detecting eight hyperspace signatures. At least one is mothership-class and another similar to Harmony in size. Surveillance data is still available from our probe.”

The interference restricted and corrupted most of the probe’s transmissions, but for a moment, the bridge crew were able to identify one of the vessels. The mothership-class vessel, nicknamed the needleship by the Hiigaran pilots who had encountered several of them upon their first visit, certainly lived up to its name. A large dome, falling short of a five-hundred metre radius in size served as a form of shield, behind which a long, needle-like structure trailed, gradually thinning out to a point at the other end of the five kilometre-long warship. Equipped with an ion-cannon in the dome, several small plasma turrets around the needle structure, a sizeable hangar, and the hyperspace inhibitors, the needleship was generally amongst the last few ships most unaware visitors would ever see.

“Scramble all strike-craft. Assemble behind Harmony. Timberwolf, Ursa Major, position yourselves ten degrees to either side of Harmony’s bow, fifteen kilometres out, broadside stance. Once the hostile vessels enter weapons range, let ‘em have it and return towards us if we fall under attack. Strike-craft, hold position until the hostiles are within proximity to Harmony, then pick your targets. Shining, are you ready with that shield?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“If I’m reading this right, sensors indicate a cloud of fast-moving vessels inbound,” Zenith reported. “Estimated time until visual contact is two and a half minutes.”

“Here come the swarmers,” Captain Soban muttered, steeling himself in the calm before the storm.

“Timberwolf reporting contacts, eight kilometres out.”

“Ursa Major confirming visual of a small formation of swarmers. Tracking. We might get lucky with a few artillery rounds, but we’re going to have to wait until they get substantially closer to use the flak cannons.”

“Acknowledged. Stick to the plan, and you’ll be fine.”

“Swarmers approaching effective artillery weapons range in tight formations. Let’s do this.”

The grinding of metal on metal echoed throughout the cabins of the destroyers as their turrets made their final adjustments. The astronomical force of a nine-barrel broadside knocked each warship sideways, as a total of eighteen rounds, each almost the size of the targets they fast approached, whizzed into the swarm of unfriendly fighters.

Two-thirds of the rounds completely missed their targets. The remaining rounds managed to hit a swarmer each, crushing the unfortunate victims like flimsy cans.

“Six confirmed destroyed. Looks like we got their attention now. Entering effective flak weapons range in two … one …”

Two, four … Six, eight flak cannons sent the swarmers scattering in every direction, shredding most of the fighters with the initial salvo and forcing the remaining ones to retreat long before most of them could even unload their own rounds into the Equestrian vessels.

“Damage report!” Soban barked at to his destroyers.

“Timberwolf sustained minor hull damage. All systems functional.”

“Ursa Major undamaged. That was easy.”

“Oh for the love of—you just HAD to open your mouth, didn’t you? Timberwolf reporting additional contacts on closing vectors. Many more of them. Analysis indicates at least half of them carry anti-capital-ship weaponry, and are headed straight for Harmony.”

“Now, Shining! Get your shield up!” Soban ordered. “Destroyers, the plan hasn’t changed. Head straight to us as soon as you get those first flak rounds out. Strike-craft, get ready.”

Despite their best efforts, the swarmers could not avoid the highly explosive flak rounds while zipping by the two destroyers. Coupled with the shield surrounding the flagship, and the exponentially superior agility of the unicorn-powered strike-craft, their attempts were futile, as one by one, the swarm of ninety-six fighters withered away in to a widespread graveyard of metal and wire in a one-sided massacre.

“We’re not out of this yet, everypony,” Timberwolf reported. “Seven more contacts inbound and in visual—What the hay is that? Looks like a huge lance with some engines strapped to it.”

Surrounded by six small frigates Soban assumed to be the quadruple ion-cannon-toting multi-beam frigates encountered a century ago, the long, round ship in the centre fit the Timberwolf Captain’s description perfectly.

“Except it has guns. Lots … Of guns,” Firelance commented over the comms. “And missiles. And I don’t want to know what comes out of the tip. No innuendo intended.”

“Back full!” Soban yelled over Zenith’s gagging disapproval of Firelance’s comment. “Destroyers, target the lance-ship’s smaller guns first, so we can send in the strike-craft, then retreat to Harmony. Stay out of their weapons range for as long as possible to maximise damage. Zenith, I want a full analysis of that ship.”

Despite the range advantage the destroyers had over their aggressors, they were outgunned and outnumbered. Pummelling the last of the lance-ship’s smaller, fast-tracking turrets into submission, Captain Soban ordered the fighters and corvettes into the fray.

“All ships, concentrate fire on one frigate at a time. Save that lance-ship for last,” Soban ordered.

“Power spike detected on the lance-ship, Captain. Whatever it’s doing, I don’t think we’re going to like it.”

The tip of the lance-ship began to glow, with a bright, spherical orb forming within. Moments later, it transformed into a single, fearsome ion beam, putting every known ion cannon in the galaxy to shame.

Had it not been for Shining Armour’s efforts in concentrating his shield and directing it towards the lance-ship’s general direction, the brutal attack would have severed a sizeable part of Harmony within seconds. A feat the stallion barely pulled off.

“Incoming missiles, Captain! Tracking six large—very large missiles. Impact in forty-eight seconds. Destroyers also reporting one of the frigates are down.”

“Interceptors, disengage attack and shoot down those missiles! We can’t afford to divert Shining’s attention from that cannon. Zenith, are we in range to respond in kind, yet?”

“Just about.”

“Nova, Firelance! Your turn. Target the tip. I want that weapon disabled.”

“Yes, sir. Switching to manual. Nova tracking.”

“Firelance tracking.”

“Fire!”

The familiar crescendo of Harmony’s instruments of destruction rang through the flagship, raining down devastating damage on the lance-ship’s tip. Despite the now warped and torn extremity of the hostile vessel, the cannon remained operational, charging again to prepare for Harmony’s second beating.

Shining gritted his teeth and sweated profusely, desperately trying to keep his shield up, but the effort required eventually overwhelmed the unicorn, and the ion-beam penetrated the forward section of Harmony’s hull.

“Crew status! Damage report!” Soban yelled, the fear in his eyes all too evident, as he desperately waited for Zenith’s reply.

“Complete hull rupture across all decks in the forward resource storage tanks. Atmosphere and resources are venting, but the superstructure is holding, and automated systems are containing the affected compartments. No crew were stationed anywhere near those compartments.”

The Captain exhaled in relief. “We got lucky that time. Is that analysis finished yet? I need exploits!”

“We can’t outrun it, sir, but surface analysis and propulsion data suggests we may be able to outmanoeuvre it. While the lance-ship’s engines have a higher output to ours, they are positioned too close to their centre of gravity to match our turning ability.”

“Perfect! Full forward! We can get close to it, then fly circles around it. We should be able to handle the missiles alone. Shining, think you can hold the shield this time?”

“I don’t … think so,” Shining panted, clutching his head in silent agony. “I’ll try.”

“Frigate destroyed,” Zenith sighed in relief. “Ursa Major reported severe damage to engines and multiple barrels, but their overall hull integrity remains in the green. Interceptors have neutralised the missile salvos. Tracking another six. They’re responding to—Lance-ship cannon charging! Estimated impact zone is the construction facility!”

“Spanner, evacuate the construction facility immediately!” the Captain almost shrieked into the internal comms.

Shining Armour collapsed half-way into the beam’s firing time, allowing the ion-beam to create a long gash along the port side of the flagship.

“Reports! I need reports!”

Zenith did her best to hide her shaky voice from the bridge crew. “Sustained widespread but shallow damage across the entire construction bay. Crew status is unknown, but no hull breach detected in that section.”

“Dammit, we’ve lost Shining Armour! Medic to the bridge!”

“Some good news, Captain. We have out-manoeuvred the lance-ship,” Zenith informed Soban, slightly relieved, but still shaking. “We are out of it’s firing arc. Looks like another frigate is about to—Yes, another frigate destroyed.”

“Finally. Nova, Firelance, assist the destroyers in taking out the three remaining multi-beam frigates.”

“Firelance tracking frigate one.”

“Nova tracking three.”

The nebula lit up with the simultaneous detonation of the final three frigates, as the punishment dished out by the Equestrian fleet became too much to bear, leaving the final vessel to deal with: The lance-ship.

“Target the missile silos first. Then finish off the ion-cannon.”

“Way ahead of you, Cap—HOLY mother of Luna! Now there’s an explosion if I ever saw one!”

The combined firepower of Harmony and the two destroyers had cut through to the innards of the lance-ship, to the volatile section that housed its missile warheads. The well-placed hit created a chain reaction of secondary explosions that crippled the ship’s power, and left it dead and drifting.

“Lance-ship neutralised. What do you want us to do with it?” the Timberwolf’s Captain asked.

Captain Soban relaxed a little. “Leave it to drift. They are no longer a threat to us. Enough have died today, and I’d rather not make it worse.”

“We’re not in the clear, yet, sir,” Zenith piped up. “The mothership-class vessel is approaching. They are attempting to contact us.”

“Is this your … idea of gloating?” the same voice returned. “Finish the job already. I trust genocide is … looked upon favourably by your commanders.”

“What?” Soban looked visibly confused. “What are you talking about?”

“The Captain … he sees, yet is blind to what is in front of him,” the voice sneered. “We are the last of the Kadeshi. The century-old butchery of your … people against ours, marked the beginning of our downfall. We lacked the numbers to … protect our sacred Garden, and one by one, we withered into that which you see before you. You condemned us to a slow death.”

“Then why continue to fight a losing battle? We reclaimed Hiigara as our homeworld those many years ago. We are living proof of that. Do not deny your origins. We are brothers, and you know it. Come with us and return to the land from which you came. Please?”

“Do not take us for fools! We are well aware of our … origins. We ceased to exist as Hiigarans over … Three millennia ago, when the Garden became our sanctuary. It raised us, shaped us into what we are, and most importantly, it protected us. In return, countless generations have … protected the sanctity of the Garden. None who sought to desecrate it were … permitted to leave, even if it meant BY OUR SACRIFICE!”

“Captain!” Zenith yelled. “Power surge detected on the lance-ship! Readings indicate—Oh, no …”

Taking the fleet by surprise during the brief exchange of words, the disabled vessel had nudged itself closer to Harmony and commenced several systematic detonations, sending clouds of debris in every direction and concluding with a final, blinding incineration of the vessel. The proximity to the Equestrian fleet violently shoved even Harmony away and disabled all systems aboard it.

“Status report!”

“No reports available, sir. Primary and secondary systems are out. Backup systems taking over.”

“Must have been an EMP from the blast,” Soban commented. “Are the others fine?”

“I’ll know in a few seconds.” Zenith answered, waiting for her screens to flicker back to life. Tapping away, she navigated to the relevant information. “Yes, all other ships must have been outside the primary blast radius.”

Comms systems returned soon after. “Harmony? Harmony? Answer, dammit! The needleship is heading straight for you!”

“We’re fine, Timberwolf. Let’s”—Soban sighed—“finish the job.”

“Copied. Targeting the needleship's ion-cannon.”

“Ursa Major providing fire-support.”

“Sir?” Zenith looked up at the Captain worryingly. “This doesn’t look good. No power detected in the enemy ion-cannon. They are giving their engines all they’ve got!”

“Shit! Back emergency! Destroyers, forget the cannon! Get around to the back and target their engines. They are on a collision-course with Harmony.”

“At current velocities, ETA until impact is eighty-two seconds.”

“Ursa Major in position. Bringing guns to bear.”

“Timberwolf tracking. Let ‘em have it, fillies!”

Eighteen barrels roared as the two destroyers lobbed their high-explosive ordnance at the set of engines built around the needleship, forcefully dismantling the engines, from their exterior nozzles, to their internal components.

“Engines are down, Harmony!” the Ursa Major reported. “You might want to get out of their way, though.”

Soban agreed, and with plenty of time to spare, Harmony had cleared the trajectory of the mothership, and came to a halt. The battle was over.

“We have failed a … second time. Our Garden. Our home. Our guardian. What choice do we have left?”

“Wha—NO! Nonononono, stop—wait!”

Harmony’s systems ceased functioning a second time, as the last of the Kadeshi enveloped it in the significantly larger fireball of the needleship's self-destructive blast. Superheated metallic remains scraped, crushed, and wedged themselves into the many exterior parts of the Equestrian flagship, causing near-catastrophic damage to its hull. When the radiant heat had finally dissipated, and allowed the crew to open their eyes again, they were left surrounded by the charred and warped remains of one of the worst battles in Captain Soban’s memory.

Nopony said anything for what felt like hours. All eyes were on the Captain, who left the bridge without uttering a single word.

“What do you mean, stand by? We have been standing by for the last ten minutes. Where is Captain Soban?”

“That’s the problem. We don’t know,” Midnight Oil replied. “I’m in charge until he comes back, but I need to figure out what we are going to do before I issue any orders.”

The Captain of the Ursa Major grumbled as he cut communications, leaving Harmony’s second-in-command to continue formulating his plan.

“Our mission objectives remain unchanged. We were supposed to head to the nebula to investigate the possible existence of the fifth hyperspace core. We have accomplished that. We were then supposed to obtain it, peacefully if possible. We failed that second part, but it’s just sitting there now, right in front of us. How do we get it out of that thing?”

Midnight Oil paused, placing a hoof to his chin before continuing.

“Ideally, we could just get the collector to latch on to it and haul it back, but considering there are a pair of giant, fast-spinning hunks of metal in the way, I don’t think we would get too far with that plan. Trying to cut our way in doesn’t seem like a good idea, either. Why not teleport in, then take the core out? Should be simple enough to do.”

“Says the pony who isn’t a unicorn,” Corona cut in, as she entered the bridge. “Do you know how much of a challenge it is to teleport a fighter or corvette, regardless of the distance? Moving the core, something as large as a frigate, in addition to the pilot’s own vessel is exponentially more difficult. Although, now that I think about it … The combined strength of two, maybe three unicorns should allow them to pull it off. It would have to be timed right by those involved, but it should be possible.”

Zenith got up from her seat. “Then take over my station, Corona. With your permission, Midnight, I will assign a team of unicorns to a gunship corvette and coordinate the core retrieval with Corona.”

“Do it.”

“Approaching minimum safe distance from the artefact,” the gunship pilot reported, as he brought his vessel to a stop. “Teleporting in three … two … one …”

…

“Harmony, we are safely within the rings. Proceeding with retrieval.”

Severing the electrical connection between the core and the device upon teleporting out with the core, the device ceased activity with its field generation. Were it not for the still-spinning rings, it would have appeared completely dead, considering the sensors on every vessel started working without interference. However, it seemed as if the power generated by the core had kept the two sections from colliding with each other. An observation that alarmed Corona.

“We should probably leave as soon as the core is brought aboard. Sensors, or what’s left of them, anyway, indicate a minute angular drift in the inner rotating structure. At those speeds, we would be looking at a deadly explosion that would seriously damage or destroy anything within several kilometres, if and when the two bodies collide, regardless of any possible volatile elements that may be within.”

Midnight Oil nodded. “Agreed. The core is being brought aboard as we speak. According to our damage reports, our hull can sustain prolonged hyperspace exposure, so we are good to go. Out of curiosity, though … Hey, Timberwolf? Can you inspect our dorsal and port-side damage? How bad does it look from the outside?”

“Hold on a moment, I need to get into position,” Timberwolf’s Captain replied. “Well, I can tell you straight away the damage along your side doesn’t look too bad, but it’s definitely going to need some patching-up. As for the damage up top? Well, you’re certainly a few holes short of a changeling there. It looks quite nasty, but you seem to have it under control, right?”

“Indeed we do. In that case, all ships, assemble for hyperspace. I think it’s time we went home.”

Author's Note

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lkgH_fedShQ

9: Prophecy

Several long hours had passed since Captain Soban barricaded himself in his quarters. The excruciating sting of events prior had left the normally stoic and level-headed officer in a broken heap, slumped over the side of his bed, with his head in his hands and a pool at his feet.

Desperately trying to figure out how the Kadeshi battle could have played out differently, Soban’s cocktail of misery and anger had risen, and found an outlet in the once smooth metal wall, which now held a perfect imprint of a fist.

Prepared for the onslaught of concerned ponies, the Captain had immediately locked his door, and secured the grating over his quarters’ air vent, shouting off Pinkie until he was satisfied she had truly disappeared. Rainbow Dash had been the next visitor. After multiple failed attempts at knocking and opening, though not necessarily in that order, she too had relented. Neither Nova, nor Firelance had any luck, either, with Soban merely ignoring anything they had to say.

Of course, there was one other who had yet to approach the Captain’s quarters, but as he sat there, alone on his bed where he could stare at the eternal flames of hyperspace for answers that would never come, a familiar ‘POOF’ resounded in the confines of his dim bedroom, and he felt his mattress sag a little more with the weight of the lavender unicorn sitting beside him.

Neither of them uttered a single word. For countless minutes, Soban and Twilight sat in silence and focused on the light show outside. The multi-toned blue wisps that enveloped Harmony in a cocoon. The stationary pinpricks of light that represented other galaxies. The streaks of blurred lines that were the stars, nebulae and globules, whizzing past at incalculable speeds.

Twilight attempted to break the silence first. “It’s easy to see why you cherish your time out here.”

Soban grunted in response.

“Funny how, umm … Something so beautiful could be so dangerous.”

Another grunt.

“Come on, Captain”—Twilight placed a hoof on Soban’s shoulder—“I’m trying to help here. The least you could do is give me a coherent sentence or two.”

“Help?” Soban whispered dryly, shrugging Twilight off. “What could you possibly do to help someone who is responsible for—for what I did? Do you fail to see the severity of my crime?” he continued, the agitation in his voice rising. “I may have killed thousands over my many years of service, and don’t think that has absolutely no impact on me at all, but I have never, wiped out an entire race! It—iiit’s unthinkable!”

“But you—”

“And if that wasn’t enough”—Soban finally met Twilight’s eyes with an unsettling, dead look—“I murdered my own people. Right now, I feel worse than the Hiigarans who started the war ending with our exile to Kharak. Worse than the filthy Taiidani who set Kharak’s very air on fire, or almost set loose a deadly plague on our galaxy. Why? Because I managed to accomplish, as one person, what entire races could not. Genocide, Twilight. Genocide! Excuse the cliché expression, but these were not the actions of a Captain, but of a monster. So go ahead”—the Captain leaned back and hit the bed with a mild thump—“Help me if you can.”

Twilight looked down at Soban. “I guess you’re right. I can’t help you. The only one who can help you is, well, you. However, while I would never in a thousand years consider solving an issue with such violence, I know it was justified, and you had no other choice,” she paused, contemplating as she stared out into space again. “Heh, I guess that’s why I’m not in the military.”

“Really, Twilight? Really?” Soban growled, causing Twilight to flinch. “Are you seriously trying to justify the extermination of a race?”

“I—well, not exactly—uhh,” Twilight fumbled for words, before sighing in defeat. “I guess I am. But that’s not how I would have worded it. Like I said, I’m not too fond of the idea of kil—taking lives, but they were the aggressors, were they not? You made multiple attempts at peaceful resolutions, did you not? You did everything in your power to preserve life aboard their ships, even as they continued attacking us, and you retaliated with only what was necessary to keep us safe. Do those sound like the actions of a monster to you?”

“That’s not—”

“It’s a simple yes or no, Captain. Do those sound like the actions of a monster?”

“… No.”

“No it does not. If they were, you wouldn’t have the respect and admiration of those around you.”

“You still don’t understand, Twilight. Let me think of an analogy that can relate to your simpler lifestyle … Alright, suppose you agreed to help Pinkie Pie set up an event, but you had to cancel at the last second. Pinkie sets up the venue on her own. Suddenly she slips off a ladder and injures herself. How would you feel about it? How would you feel, knowing things could have been different if you had been there? Her injury may not be your fault directly, but you still feel guilty, and wonder what you could have done to prevent it. That’s how I feel, but on a much larger scale,” Soban finished, and turned over to lie face-first on his bed.

“Okay, we’ve established you are not at fault,” Twilight spoke softly, setting herself down beside the Captain. “If I was faced with the situation in your analogy, I would feel exactly the way you described it. The most important thing will be how you choose to deal with those events. There was nothing you could have done, because you couldn’t have predicted the events that followed. In your case, while you may have expected a fight, were you aware they were the remnants of their race? Well?”

A muffled ‘no’ was Soban’s response.

“There you go. So now you must ask yourself what you are going to do now. Are you going to feel sorry for yourself and dwell on the ‘what if’s, or are you going to work through it? Nopony expects you to just get up and shake it off, like nothing ever happened, but your crew still look to you for guidance.”

“You—You’re right, Twilight. I just”—the Captain lifted his head with a sigh—“If it’s all the same, I’d rather take some time off, anyway. Midnight and the others can handle getting us back home. I think I’m just going to—hey wait, what are you—”

“Take all the time you need,” Twilight interrupted, wrapping her hooves around Soban. “Once we’re back home, you can take a much-needed holiday.”

“But I don’t like holi—”

“That’s an order, Captain!”

Soban grumbled, and eventually drifted off to sleep, still wrapped in the fuzzy, purple hooves of the concerned mare. Twilight had followed suit, dozing off shortly after wrapping the covers around Soban and herself.

Soban and Twilight were jolted awake several hours later, as Harmony lurched violently enough to launch the pair off the bed, and on to the metal floor with a clang. The Captain groaned as he picked himself up, then proceeded to assist Twilight, who had somehow managed to get herself tangled in her own limbs.

“Wha—? Wuzzat noise?” Twilight managed to say, disoriented and distracted by a loud, ship-wide alarm, the meaning of which she did not know, aside from the obvious ‘something bad has happened’.

Without another word, the Captain burst open his quarters’ door and sprinted for the bridge, barely keeping his balance as Harmony continued to shudder and throw itself about in increasingly violent waves, while Twilight barely kept up.

“Captain!” Midnight Oil exclaimed in relief, as Soban stumbled into the bridge. “Glad you’re here. Where have you—”

“Later, Midnight! What’s going o—ARRGH!” Soban cried in pain, as a particularly nasty lurch sent him face-first into a wall. “I’m fine, I’m f—get off me, Twilight, it’s just a cut. Status report!”

“It appears to be a hyperdrive malfunction, Captain! The quantum waveform is collapsing. Inertial dampening systems can’t compensate for these motions, either!”

“Out of the way, now!” Soban yanked the surprised Midnight Oil from the Captain’s seat and hit the comms. “All crew to full combat alert! Stand by for an emergency hyperspace exit!”

A quick check of the short-range sensors confirmed the rest of the fleet was intact, as they exited hyperspace and found themselves in deep space, within the vicinity of nothing more than a pair of pure-white binary pulsar stars, flashing regularly at a safe distance.

“I want to know what happened, and I want to know in the next five minutes,” Soban demanded. “That includes crew status.”

Zenith ran her hoof down a list on her console. “Chief medic reports twenty-three injuries so far. Nothing serious. A few sprains, but that’s the worst of it. Engineering is already investigating the cause of the malfunction, but … Huh. You might want to take a look at this. Sensors detect an anomalous field at these coordinates. The source appears to be a large vessel within it, larger than ours in mass, though sensor distortion here makes it impossible to identify. Several ships are surrounding it, but they all appear to be inactive. No life signs detected as far as I can tell. Recommend we send a probe to investigate.”

The Captain nodded. “Agreed. Construction, respond.”

“Spanner here. What’s up?”

“You alright over there?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Gas tank hit me on the head, but I’ve been hit by worse!”

“That explains a lot …” Soban muttered to himself. “Ahh, anyway, do you have any probes available?”

“Oh, we doing some good old-fashioned probing, huh?” Firelance appeared in the rear section of the bridge, wearing a sly grin. “I nominate Zenith first!”

“What in Equestria are you talk— … Arrgh!” Zenith yelled, after a quick wiggle of Firelance’s rump filled in the blanks. “Have you always had a dirty mind, or did you have to work at it? No, forget that, I don’t want to know. Shouldn’t you be at your station?”

Firelance took a moment to savour Zenith’s reaction, before replying. “My station is twenty metres away. I wanted to find out what the hay is going on here.”

Captain Soban couldn’t help but crack a small grin at his shipmates. “Come on over, ‘Lance, I’ll fill you in. Just a second … Spanner? You were saying?”

“Yeah, I got plenty of probes, sir. Where do you need them?”

Firelance couldn’t resist. “Up Zenith’s—”

“Probe away,” Zenith announced, perfectly composed after sending a certain pegasus away with a hoof imprint on his face. “Estimated time until visual range is two minutes and thirty-four seconds.”

Soban remained lost in thought. “Hmm.”

“Is— … Is something the matter, sir?”

“I don’t know, Zenith. Something about this doesn’t feel right. This is oddly familiar, yet I have no clue what is going on. Do we have any information on our malfunction, yet?”

“Uhh, not a full report, but a preliminary analysis indicates everything is working as it should. Assuming that is true, the cause must have been external, and in my opinion, everything so far seems to be too great a coincidence to dismiss whatever that object is as the source.”

“Can we enter hyperspace if need be?”

“Barring the need to recharge, I have no idea, sir. I don’t have that information for you.”

“Very well. Launch our strike-craft and get them into a defensive formation around us. We play this safe.”

As the final fighter entered the spherical formation around Harmony, the probe approached its final destination, prompting Zenith to display the visual feed on the main bridge display. Soban and the bridge crew leaned forward and squinted, trying to make out the objects that grew larger as the probe drew nearer. The angle at which the probe approached placed one of the larger inactive vessels in the way of the central vessel, but despite the lack of visual on the central vessel, the sight of the one blocking the way made Captain Soban rise to approach the display, in case his eyes fooled him.

“That can’t be what I think it is …” he whispered.

Little over one and a half kilometres in length, covered in runic symbols and filled with decaying holes, the probe captured top-down images of a U-shaped, light-brown vessel, which drifted idly while a gold glow within it flickered almost pitifully. To each side of its rear, a pair of thin, tail-like protrusions stuck out. It was a tradeship. A Bentusi tradeship.

“Wow, it has been a very long time since I last saw one of those,” Soban commented to nopony in particular. “Of course, back then, they were alive.”

“You might just get the chance to greet one again, Captain,” Zenith spoke up. “The ship you are referring to appears to be powering up.”

“Wha—that’s impossible! The last of the Bentusi died almost a year ago!”

“I don’t know what else to tell you, sir, but it looks like it is transmitting audio. Stand by.”

The once deep, gentle voice associated with every Bentusi vessel had instead echoed through the bridge with a most unhealthy, raspy sound, as the Bentusi vessel barely managed to string together a sentence. “Hiig—Hiigarans? Y—you Hiigarans? Please! Please help us! Come t—to us!”

At the exchange of nods between the Captain, Zenith established the audio link between the two vessels.

“This is Captain Soban aboard the— … Zenith”—the Captain made a gesture to cut the communications link—“something isn’t right here. Look at the other inactive vessels. That’s a strange assortment of ships.”

Floating around near the Bentusi vessel were several smaller ships of varying designs. Some had familiar profiles and markings, such as the black and yellow-striped carriers of the Vaygr, the lopsided design of ancient Taiidani resourcing vessels, and even a pair of pre-exile era Hiigaran heavy cruisers. Others had exotic or primitive profiles of unknown origin, bearing signs of incalculable age, yet uncharacteristic of Progenitor designs.

“Lightning-two,” Soban addressed an interceptor squadron. “Move up and investigate, but keep your distance. Corvettes and bombers, remain with us.”

Leaving the fleet behind in their twin engine trails, the interceptors sped towards the multicultural cluster of ships. Captain Soban tapped a finger on his armrest, still unsure if he had been in a similar situation to that which he now found himself in.

“Lightning-two-one approaching target and slowing to fifteen metres per second,” the lead interceptor pilot reported. “Distance to nearest vessel closing on five kilometres. Adjusting heading to— … That’s strange. I appear to be slowing down.”

“Lightning-two-four confirms.”

“Two-two, have the same issue here. What the hay?”

“Two-three, confirmed. Systems are compensating, but I’m noting a gradual rise in engine output to maintain velocity.”

“Two-five, yep, it’s definitely not our ships’ fault. Should we teleport closer in, Lieutenant?”

“Negative, two-five,” the squadron leader replied. “Continue on heading three-two-three mark zero-three-niner.”

Captain Soban furrowed his brow. “Two-one, do you have a visual on the central vessel yet?”

“Almost got it. Aaaaaannnnd, there you go. Ugh, it’s not exactly the sort of thing you would find on the cover of a Photo Finish magazine.”

The image of the eroded block of grey metal displayed on Harmony’s view-screen had jostled Captain Soban’s memory. He remembered reading mission reports of a large vessel, essentially a massive engine block joined to an orb-like fore-hull and covered in thick armour-plating. A wide, flat dorsal and ventral array positioned along the centre section worked in conjunction with a long rod antenna protruding from the front-left, to create a dangerous field that would subvert and take control of anything larger than a frigate, that wandered too close.

The only other such vessel encountered was the one in the mission report that outlined a hyperdrive malfunction aboard the mothership of the Hiigaran exiles, a few months prior to the liberation of their homeworld. Dubbed the ‘Ghost Ship’, it had been assumed that the vessel, dated over several million years old, had been the only one of its kind.

“That explains everything. All these vessels must have been drawn in out of curiosity, and trapped for … Who knows how long? I doubt anyone is alive on those other vessels. But the Bentusi ship … ?” Soban paused in thought. “Zenith, is there any data on the field being projected?”

“One moment, sir. No, not really. The only information I have for you is data from our probe, indicating an unknown energy field with a five-point-two kilometre radius, give or take a hundred metres.”

“That’s exactly what I was looking for. We should be able to set up the destroyers well beyond the control field limits, and disable the central vessel safely. Timberwolf, Ursa Major, new orders …”

“I hope you know what you are asking of us,” Timberwolf’s Captain replied. “Our artillery turrets might have good range, but holding us at seven kilometres from the target is pushing it. Our rounds have one-point-two degree variations in trajectory. At this distance, we could be as far off as almost a hundred-and-fifty metres. What if we hit the Bentusi ship?”

“It’s a risk we are going to have to take. Besides, Bentusi vessels are tough, even when they look as bad as this one. Now, are you two in position, yet?”

“Just about.”

“Give it all you got, guys.”

Given the technological advantage of almost a hundred and sixteen years since the first Ghost Ship encounter, the Equestrian fleet had managed to avoid the lengthy and dangerous operations the Hiigaran exiles faced. The effective range of the artillery weapons each destroyer boasted had allowed the fleet to destroy the control field projected by the enigmatic vessel in mere minutes, without resorting to sending in strike-craft, which, while immune to the Ghost Ship’s influence, would have fallen under attack by the other ships it controlled.

“Probe data suggests the energy field has been shut down,” Zenith informed Soban.

The Captain nodded, and attempted communication with the Bentusi vessel. “This is Captain Soban aboard the Equestrian flagship Harmony. Bentusi Tradeship, we are willing to offer any assistance necessary.”

Static was the only response.

“Bentusi Tradeship, please respond.”

…

“It appears the Bentusi find themselves once again in the debt of the Hiigarans,” the Tradeship replied, its voice quivering with weakness. “Yes, we are aware of your collaboration with the Equestrian race.”

“Are you in need of any assistance?” Soban repeated.

“No, there is nothing you can do for us. We are already dying.”

“I’m sorry, dying?”

“This ancient control ship has held us for far too long. Systems deemed unimportant by this ship have been neglected. Despite our life support degradation, we longed for death from the moment we fell under this vessel’s influence. Unable to move, unable to call for help, we were trapped within ourselves and played like puppets, to the downfall of those you see around us. It was the result of one simple, foolish mistake, but such is fate. It has been foretold one of us would be left behind to facilitate the fulfilment of your destiny.”

“Destiny? This doesn’t have anything to do with the prophecy, or any—”

“Alright, I’ve been hearing about this so-called prophecy for a while now,” Twilight interjected with a huff. “Not that I would for one second believe in a predetermined fate for anything, but do you mind explaining this ‘prophecy’ in its entirety?” she finished, catching the Captain’s eye. “Oh, sorry Captain, I shouldn’t have interrupted.”

“You must be the curious scholar,” the Tradeship addressed Twilight. “The one foretold to lead fleets to the discovery of many great wonders. It is not every day we have the pleasure of meeting one who possesses such an outstanding mind, and yet remains Bound. You are of course correct in your assumption that we do not follow a single, straight path throughout our lives. The journey is filled with twists and turns, and of course, many crossroads. Yet in the midst of these complexities, lie predictions, vague by nature, yet fixed points in time, that reveal the general direction in which events may unfold. Behold …”

Once again, Harmony’s bridge crew leaned forward, as a projection of lights appeared just ahead of the Tradeship.

“What lies before you is our galaxy as it was millennia ago. It was during this time that the Great Maker Sajuuk had forged the cores and seeded life throughout the galaxy. It was a galaxy the Progenitors could call their own, teeming with life of their creation, and a ship named after Sajuuk himself was constructed to carry out this very task.”

The image of the galaxy faded, replaced by many others, each representing different living organisms of astounding variety.

“The Progenitors themselves were not of this galaxy, and in their ignorance, discovered life had already existed before they arrived. Out of sheer arrogance, the Progenitors decided to wipe the galaxy clean of foreign life. Planet killers, designed to purge planets from orbit with atmospheric deprivation missiles, and keepers, designed to eliminate space-faring targets, became the newest additions to the Progenitor fleets, and left naught but dust and echoes in their wake.”

The Tradeship paused, as each image faded away, before continuing.

“A cataclysmic event must have occurred during this era, for the Progenitors rapidly disappeared. Even the Bentusi, with a deeper understanding of the prophecy, do not know what could have caused the great Progenitor race to abandon this galaxy with such haste. Many have speculated as to the fate of the Progenitors, but when asked, we had feigned ignorance. The information we possess has never been divulged before today, to prevent mass panic, but the Progenitors had returned to the galaxy from which they came, to prepare the day of their return, and start anew.”

Captain Soban shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. If everyone in the galaxy knew this, we would be able to prepare for such an event, no? Why give us, a tiny fleet, this information exclusively?”

“You must understand that the average sentient life-form would not take the possibility of impending doom too well, especially one on this scale. Galaxy-wide panic would cause more harm than good. Even so, the combined firepower of every squadron, every armada, every fleet available within the galaxy, would be insufficient. We listened to the battle between the Pride of Hiigara’s fleet, and a single keeper. It was by pure coincidence, that a large Progenitor power core had been nearby to destroy the keeper. Had it not been there, the keeper would have obliterated your fleet, and all events that lead up to your arrival here, would have never happened. The devastation a single vessel could cause may be massive, but the devastation of ten, fifty, or even one hundred would frighten even the Bentusi.”

“What are you suggesting, then?” Soban’s voice carried a hint of impatience. “That a small fleet could achieve something that larger fleets cannot?”

“Not a smaller fleet. Your fleet. You, Captain Melarn Soban, are without doubt one of the greatest strategists of your race, and your record proves it. Your leadership, and the talents of the Equestrian race combined, would form the backbone of your journey to prevent the Progenitors’ invasion of our galaxy, before it even begins.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Oh, no pressure. Fate of an entire galaxy resting on a small group. Sounds like a bad story I read once …”

“Peace requires sacrifice,” the Tradeship continued. “Hardship may lie ahead of you, but know that strength does not lie in numbers, or in firepower. Instead, it is within ourselves, our courage, cunning, and vigour, that we find strength to face extraordinary odds. The Hiigaran exiles are perhaps the best examples in memory.”

“So that’s it, then?” Twilight asked. “That’s all this prophecy is? To tell us we are doomed if we don’t do anything?”

“There are many prophecies, young scholar, but this is the one that will apply to you. We are well into the End Times; the era that concludes with the return of the Progenitors, and the Great Maker himself. It is up to you to decide exactly how they will return, and whether they will stay.”

“I don’t suppose you have any advice on where to start, do you?” Soban asked.

“We may hear almost everything in the void, but that does not mean we know everything. Remain in contact with the fleet that had assisted you above the skies of Equestria. They may just hold a piece to the puzzle. We do not have any more information you are unaware of.”

“So … W—what? Do we just … Go? Leave you here?”

“That would be preferred, yes. We would rather spend our last moments alone, to prepare ourselves. Farewell.”

“Good—Goodbye,” Soban hesitated, a sigh barely escaping from him. “Zenith, I trust there is nothing stopping us from resuming hyperspace?”

“None that I can detect, sir.”

“Very well. Assemble the fleet.”

10: Midnight's Log

CREW AUDIO LOG
MIDNIGHT OIL, CPT-2IC
HARMONY, SPR. CARRIER
9626.31 GSY

Is this thing … I think it’s—oh, right. Green light must mean—ahem. Alright, second-in-command, Midnight Oil’s log, galactic standard year nine-six-two-six, point … Uhh, I think two eight? I’m still unfamiliar with this damn date system.

So, it has been a little over four days since we returned to orbit around our planet. The Captain disembarked after the first day back, along with many of the crew, leaving us running with the bare minimum. Not that I can blame everypony for wanting to take a break, though. After what we went through in that nebula, I was amazed even the best of the best managed to hold it together and focus. Rumour has it the Captain himself seems to have taken it pretty badly, though. That might explain why the purple unicorn, I think her name was … Twilight? Twinkle? Ahh, irrelevant. Anyway, it might explain why she literally dragged the Captain off Harmony.

I overheard a brief communication between the Captain and his superiors just before he left, too. Turns out everything the Bentusi had told us was spot-on, and after some final analysis and confirmation, our fleet will rendezvous with the same fleet that had assisted Manaan some time ago. Their scientists seem to have made some significant discoveries.

Hmm. Wish I could say the same for our guys. Some of the engineers who have chosen to remain on board have already started to inspect the core we obtained from the nebula, but for all their meticulous inspections, it seems we aren’t going to uncover even the slightest clue about where to look for the sixth and final core. It’s times like this I’m glad I just order ponies around, because I swear I can smell the stench of sizzling scientist brains up here.

One thing we did uncover about this fifth core is that it is the loyalty core. Using data from the Hiigaran’s original core, which, if I remember correctly, was the laughter core, a neural interface is being constructed to allow somepony to integrate themselves with the core. I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a scary thought. I’ve been told the way the device is designed, it detects the brain patterns and allows pretty much any living being to interact with the core. Or something like that, anyway. I lost the chief of science when she was explaining to me what an artificial synaptic bridge is. I don’t think she even knew, herself!

One interesting thing I read while trying to understand this interface was the history behind the technology. This current design works without any surgery or bodily modifications to the user, but earlier designs made my stomach turn. This S’jet woman who leads Hiigaran fleets used to have wires coming out of her head. Wires! From holes drilled into her head! So many, it almost looked like her mane! Actually, I think a topic change is in order. Just thinking about that makes me feel … Ugh!

Harmony is still going to be a while before the damage incurred from our battle will be fully repaired, but that large hole in our forward section has been hastily patched up. Not exactly pulled off with finesse, but a large slab of metal welded on by our resource collector seems to have done the trick. Repair teams have had the opportunity to enter the sealed-off sections to survey the internal damage, but according to them, it’s not as bad as it looks. I estimate another three, maybe four days, before everything is restored to the state our vessel was in before we left, including properly fixing up that hole, and restoring the appearance of our flagship.

In the meantime, we have made ourselves useful. No point sitting in orbit with a hoard of resources, so Harmony has taken on the role of some major construction operations, while supplementing our projects by performing short-jumps to resources in our solar system. Last briefing, we had a discussion about creating a homeworld defence grid, that basically consists of several hundred frigate-sized hyperspace inhibitors surrounding our planet, at a radius just a ways past our moon. Any unidentified vessels would be detected before they could get anywhere near us, and if necessary, Princess Luna will … Well, she will give our uninvited guests a full moon.

Of course, while several officers can see the benefits of this, including myself, I do have to question the timing of such an endeavour. The time and resources required to build all these inhibitors would be astronomical, forgive the pun. If it were up to me, I would first get some more ships added to our fleet. Sure, we now have a full hangar of strike-craft, two destroyers, a resource collector, and a mobile refinery, but with everything I know about these keepers, I certainly wouldn’t want to get caught short of ships, should we find ourselves in an ambush, or with an uncharged hyperdrive. But I guess the Captain knows best.

Still, I might just get what I wished for. We do have plans to construct a carrier. Not exactly powerful, though. It’s basically a smaller version of Harmony, and without any ion cannons. So practically defenceless, save for a few peashooters on it. At least it can house ten more strike-craft squads. Even so, it will only assist us in setting up this inhibitor grid, and then it will remain here, separate from our main fleet. While I can sleep a little easier at night, whenever ‘night’ is out here, I think the Captain is a little paranoid about any threats to us. Nice to know he is looking out for us, though.

Hmm, what else should I be noting? Everything else seems fine, I guess. Most of the remaining crew are apparently having a hot-sauce drinking contest on the mess deck, hosted by that annoying pink pony. What is she doing here, anyway? Civilians have no place here. I need to make a mental note to ask her later. Anyway, the bridge is a ghost town. Population, me. Corona is on leave, and Zenith is off doing some inspections on the weapons. Heard the two nutcases at the controls are a hoof-full. Quite frankly, I’m not too interested in interacting with either of them. Or that griffon down in construction, now that I think about it.

Then again, I’ve never trusted those griffons. Bunch of arrogant jerks, the lot of ‘em. No idea why the Princesses even agreed to let them serve aboard our ship. I mean, the fact that the Princesses agreed, simply because other nations had a problem with us possessing such powerful weapons and technology seems downright cowardly to me, and just makes us look weaker in their eyes. I’ll be damned if ponies are seen as pushovers! You’d think others would show us more respect. We control the sun and moon, for goodness sake!

Wow, I did not expect to get into a full-blown rant on griffons. Again. I should make another mental note to see if these logs can somehow be edited.

Anywho, unless I want to start making remarks about completely mundane issues, such as the hot water not working in one of the crew quarters, I think I’ll just sign off here. Midnight Oil, out.

…

Damn green light still on. Where the hay is the stupid off button? Maybe it’s thi—

LOG TERMINATED

11: Turquoise Nebula

The empty streets of Ponyville had been pummelled by the onslaught of a heavy downpour, originating from an overcast sky of depressing grey shades. Though only a few minutes past midnight, most of the town’s inhabitants had been sound asleep, cocooned in their blankets on this unusually cold night, save for one.

Through the frosty windows of the town library, the warm glow of several candles flickered, providing Captain Soban with just the right amount of light to read through a stack of sizeable documents, one that had been propped up against his legs, as he sat on the couch with his feet up on a table. Jotting down notes as they popped into his mind, he cast aside his book and opened another in its place, using his left hand to flip through the pages to the appropriate section.

His right hand remained preoccupied, as it stroked Twilight’s mane idly, while barely audible snores escaped her. Much like the stroking of his chin when deep in thought, Soban hadn’t noticed this new action of his, until he heard the unicorn’s murmurs of contentment when he began a few days prior. As a result, he had effectively switched Twilight off, sending her to sleep mere minutes after working his fingers through her mane.

Soban furrowed his brow, muttering nonsensical words while scribbling in his notebook, occasionally striking out lines, or tearing out pages of notes he was dissatisfied with. Letting out a profanity, he rubbed his eyes and continued writing up notes for plans regarding ship assortments in multiple future Equestrian fleets.

Just as he began to formulate the composition of a resource operation security detail, Soban felt Twilight stirring underneath his hand.

“Mmmmmshouldn’t you be sleeping?” she lifted her head and looked up at the Captain with unevenly opened eyes.

“Can’t sleep,” Soban replied, bookmarking his reading material with his notepad. “It usually takes me a good week to settle back into a proper sleep cycle after returning to a planet. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

Twilight yawned. “No, no. Just feeling a little cold. I think I’ll go fetch a blanket. You want one, too?”

“Thanks.”

Twilight crept upstairs, past the occupied bed, and rummaged through her extra bedding. Since their return almost a week ago, Harmony’s chief medic had reluctantly agreed to allow Shining Armour to be discharged, provided he rested until his magic had returned.

“How is he?” Soban asked, jerking his head in Shining’s general direction.

“All things considered, he’s doing well. He still complains of an intense burning sensation on his horn, but some of his magic is coming back, at least.” Lying back down on the couch, the unicorn covered herself with a starry-patterned blanket. “Still too unstable to even levitate anything, but he’s getting there. He really is a soldier at heart. Doesn’t want his wife finding out about what happened, because he said it will needlessly worry her. Knowing Cadance, ‘worry’ would be an understatement. Oh, and I’m certain Shining is in more pain than he lets on, even if he doesn’t admit it.”

“That’s because you don’t want to hear me whining about my head feeling like it’s in a vice-grip every five minutes!” Shining Armour yelled from the bed.

“Oh geez! It’s midnight for Celestia’s sake!” an annoyed Spike trudged downstairs, dragging his pillow and blanket towards the basement.

“Is anypony here actually sleeping?” Twilight huffed.

“I was, until you all started shouting!” Spike grumbled, getting his point across by slamming the basement door behind him.

“Well, he’s going to be grumpy later on. Moreso. Alright, Shining, you know what the doctor said, now sleep,” Twilight ordered, receiving grumbles in response. “Same goes for you, Captain.”

“Will you stop referring to me by rank, Twilight?” the Captain rolled his eyes. “You’re a friend. And a damn good one at that. Call me Mel.”

“Only if you go to sleep, and stop these late night sessions”—the unicorn extended a hoof—“deal?”

Soban shook Twilight’s hoof. “Deal.”

“Mighty sorry ah’m late”—Applejack took a seat alongside her friends at a cafe within town—“Whole family went huntin’ for Granny’s dentures,” she explained, shuddering.

“That's … Alright,” Soban replied, nestled between Twilight and Rainbow Dash, the two of whom had been conversing with Rarity and Fluttershy, prior to Applejack’s arrival.

“Guess we’re waitin’ on Pinkie, huh?” Applejack observed.

“Actually, Pinkie remained aboard Harmony,” Soban pointed out, pausing for another sip of his tea. “She said she wanted to do something ‘fun’ for the crew, but didn’t exactly go into details. Although, I don’t suppose any of you know what she would be doing with several vats of milk? No? Hmm. Anyway, I gather you’re all wondering why I called you here, yes?”

With the exception of Twilight and Rainbow, the group nodded silently.

“Alright, what I am about to ask of you may sound like much, and perhaps a little frightening, but please hear me out,” the Captain began, his eyes scanning the confused faces around him. “You all remember the day we discovered the fourth hyperspace core, yes? Well, I’m sure Twilight has informed you all that there are a total of six cores, and that they are the true Elements of Harmony. With the fifth core recovered, we are looking into ways to locate and retrieve the sixth and final core.”

“Oh come on, get to the important part! They know all this already!” Rainbow fidgeted impatiently.

Soban shot an annoyed look at Rainbow. “Getting to it. Anyway, some time in the near future, it is highly likely we will need to use the Elements against a powerful foe. This is the part that is going to sound scary. To use the Elements, you will each have to become … integrated with a core.”

“What? No can do, Cap’”—Applejack shook her head vigorously. “Forget th’ fact that we got responsibilities of our own down here on dry land, but we can’t do that! You wanna make us into some kinda machine freaks?”

“Whoah, hold on! Nothing like that!” Soban frantically waved his hands. “No, what I meant was to have your mind temporarily linked with the core. You just put this … thing, on your head, and from what I’m told, you can then see everything our sensors see, hear everything around you, and even transmit your thoughts to each other. You will see the universe in almost the same way as the Bentusi did.”

Fluttershy tensed up. “D—does that mean I would hear everypony’s thoughts? And everypony would hear m—mine? I’m not sure I’d want to do this. Can we turn it off somehow?”

Soban hesitated. “I, uhh … I don’t know if I can answer that question for you, to be honest. I’m sure it’s possible. Tell you what, I’ll ask Karan when I meet with her. She’s the only one who can properly answer that.”

“Hmm,” Rarity mused. “Well, I must admit you have piqued my interest. However, Fluttershy did bring up a valid issue I have a few reservations about. I do so value my privacy, and despite having nothing to hide, the prospect of having five others practically inside my own mind seems rather invasive, even if they are my closest friends.”

“Rainbow Dash could probably tell you later on. She volunteered to integrate herself into the core in the near future. Tomorrow, I’ll be up in Canterlot for a couple of days, but I’ll then return to Harmony for a quick mission, come back, and get Rainbow ready.” Draining the last of his tea, Soban turned to the timid pegasus. “I’ll see if I can arrange for a brief communication between her and Karan, so Rainbow can tell you all what it feels like. Would that help?”

Fluttershy looked up at the Captain from behind her mane, and slowly nodded.

“Well, I suppose if that issue can be taken care of, and it is just a matter of simply placing some form of headgear on one’s self, I see no issue, but,” Rarity stopped mid-thought. “Does it come in white?”

“Ah don’t suppose we can tag along?” Applejack shot in, shaking her head at Rarity’s priorities. “If Rainbow is gonna go jumpin’ into clouds without checkin’ for thunder, then ah wanna be around for it.”

Soban shrugged. “I don’t see why not. I’d just have to check the crew manifest to see if there are any empty quarters, as we are about to bring aboard some newly trained crew. In all likelihood, you will need to share quarters. Is that fine by all of you?”

The mares around the Captain nodded unanimously. Wrapping up the meeting with some minor small-talk, they began to leave, one by one, until Twilight and Rarity remained with the Captain.

Clearing her throat, Rarity spoke up. “Well, I suppose now that we have taken care of that little issue, I would like to ask a favour of you, Captain.”

“Sure, Rarity. And please, just call me Mel.”

“As you wish, Mel. Well you see, I am an entrepreneur, and after everything that has happened over the course of your arrival and stay in Equestria, it got me thinking, and a most wonderful idea sprung to mind! Honestly, I find myself surprised—nay, astounded, that with all the apparent glamour, professionalism, and sophistication of this fleet of yours, your crew lack proper uniforms! In fact, the only one who wears a uniform, and a little too frequently I might add, is yourself.”

“And I suppose you want to create these uniforms for my crew?” Soban asked, an enthusiastic nod being Rarity’s reply. “I don’t see any problem with it, but I would have to take it up with whoever manages the finances for our fleet. Tell you what, I’ll pitch the idea to Princess Luna when I see her tomorrow or after tomorrow.”

“Oh splendid! If you have some time now, would you care to see what I have come up with?”

“You mean you already created one?” Soban raised an eyebrow.

“Multiple uniforms! Of course, they are only the initial designs. Prototypes, if you will. However, I’m sure with your input, and my keen sense for practicality and presentation, I believe I can make your crew look the part!” Rarity finished with a dramatic flourish of her hoof. “Just the mere thought makes me giddy! Shall we?”

“Okay, you can open your eyes now!” Rarity sang.

The Captain opened his eyes, still feeling slightly apprehensive. Three odd, pony-shaped mannequins stood before him. They had been neatly lined up in a row and dressed in some extravagant and shiny uniforms. Rarity stood off to the side, bouncing on the spot in anticipation, an excitable glimmer in her eyes.

“To the left, I have the dark uniform design. Based on the red-trimmed black uniform you wear, this is a full-body uniform that allows the hooves, wings, head, and tail to remain exposed,” Rarity carried on, pointing a hoof at each section she mentioned. “Rank patches are located to either side of the forehooves, and the Equestrian-Hiigaran emblem sits just underneath the left tip of the collar. Of course, given your foreign form, it was a bit of a challenge to get the insignia placement correct, considering our shoulders are completely different, but I’m quite confident I succeeded in improvising, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Wholeheartedly, ma’am!”

“Oh I am delighted to hear that from you! However,” Rarity dropped her excited tone. “After I finished this one, I took a few steps back to visualise how it would look on an entire ship’s crew. Forgive me for being blunt, but all that black just looks depressing, and the red trim? I don’t know, Capt—Mel. So I came up with this! My pièce de résistance!”

“Piece of what?” Soban scratched his head, unfamiliar with the term Rarity had used.

“Oh darling, you really do need to familiarise yourself with more eloquent vocabulary. Not to worry!” Rarity’s jovial voice sang once more. “Now my second design consists of a similar form to the first, but I decided to change the colours. Back when we were mere acquaintances, I recall seeing a photo of yourself with who I assume were your comrades, while I was aboard your frigate. However, you wore a different uniform, one that was white with blue trim, and that is where I derived inspiration from, to create this.”

“In all honesty, though I like my black and red, I do have to admit this design looks much better. Now, what’s that third one?”

“This last one was admittedly a failed design. Initially I asked myself what a more practical version of the royal guard uniform might look like. Clearly you don’t want to trot around performing your duties in heavy, restrictive armour, especially if you are involved in manual labour. Can you imagine the horrendous body odour?” she put a hoof to her head dramatically. “Hardly befitting of an elegant fleet, so I figured I could try to adapt the colour scheme into fabric. As you can see, a gold-dominated colour is quite an eyesore, and in hindsight, such a poor design choice on my part was absolutely shameful.”

“How did you get the cloth to shine like that?” Soban approached the mannequin, feeling the material with his fingers.

“Oh this is a special gold silk. All the properties of gold, yet as light and comfortable as any decent fabric. Making this was harder than designing the uniforms themselves! But no matter. I decided to abandon the idea of a gold uniform, but it would have been a shame to let that lovely silk go to waste, so I had another one of my more brilliant ideas! If I lined the other uniforms with it, the gold would protect the wearer from more serious cuts and scrapes, and serve as a protectant against corrosive materials, which, as I understand it, can become quite the hazard for your engineers.”

“Rarity, you weren’t lying when you spoke highly of your keen sense for practicality and presentation! If for some reason I wasn’t sold by the second uniform, I certainly would be now! I might just have to consider commissioning you to create one for me, if I ever damage my current set of uniforms. I’m sure the Princesses will definitely support this idea if I pitch it to them.”

“Magnificent!” the designer clopped her hooves together. “This could be the biggest deal of my career! Nay, my life!”

“You’re not going to make them all by yourself, are you?”

“Oh don’t you worry about me, dear! Designing clothing is the most challenging part. Replicating it is easy, if not a tad tedious.” Waving her hoof in dismissal, Rarity glanced at an elaborately decorated grandfather clock nearby. “Well, I must apologise for my lack of hospitality, but despite being ahead of schedule, I must filly-proof my boutique. Sweetie Belle’s friends are staying over tonight.”

“Mel, remember what we talked about before,” Twilight nagged, back at the library. “I don’t want you staying up late.”

“Who are you? My mother?” the Captain looked up momentarily from his notepad.

“Trust me, sir, you haven’t seen Twilight mothering yet,” Shining Armour interjected, prodding his sister’s sides playfully. “I would know!”

“Well if it weren’t for my ‘mothering’, you wouldn’t be up and about so soon now, would you?” Twilight retorted between bouts of giggles.

Soban looked up once again. “Oh, I forgot to ask how you were feeling today, Shining.”

“Much better, actually. My magic appears to be stable”—Shining Armour demonstrated, as he levitated a nearby shelf of books, and replaced them out of order, sticking his tongue out at Twilight—“though I still have a headache. It’s bearable, at least. I could probably fix it with a few painkillers, but I’ve never been one for pills. Can’t seem to swallow them, for some reason.”

“Glad to hear it. So I assume you’ll be ready for duty within the next two days, then? My superiors were completely stunned by your performance when I sent them our combat data, and they wanted to meet you personally.”

“Really? Ye—Of course I’ll be ready by then. Actually, if I take the same train you are taking, I should have more than enough time with the missus as well. What time does it leave, anyway?”

“Quarter past four. In the morning.”

“Wow, I should probably get an early one, then. G’night, ‘Cap. Twiley.”

“Good night, Shining”—Twilight turned back to the Captain—“and you, Mel. Hint, hint.”

Soban flipped his notebook open to a new page. “Yeah, sure. I just need another ten or twenty minutes to figure something out.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“Not really. I’ve been drafting up a new training regime for our strike-craft, so we can perfect the use of shielding and teleportation in combat. Technically this shouldn’t be my job, but seeing as how I know more about you folks than my peers, I would have a better understanding of how it could be used. I just wish we knew how to combine your magic with our technology. I don’t suppose you have anything useful in those research papers of yours? Actually, what did you do with those?”

“Oh, I just filed them away downstairs, but most of those were just my notes. I did make a compilation of findings for the Princesses’ lead scientists, though. So far, I haven’t found anything overly useful, but I’m sure it would help with something. For example, after figuring out how to use the interferometer in Harmony’s lab, I discovered our ability to move objects with magic seems to stem from the creation and manipulation of photons. I was in the process of creating a formula that might have shown a possible relationship between factors such as object mass, range and magic intensity, but I burned out the device. I—ahh, actually, I meant to tell you about that before.”

“That’s alright. We can get construction to build another one for us. Those machines can create anything if the schematics are saved in their data banks. And I wouldn’t sell yourself short on that finding though. Who knows? You might just pave the way for new actuation devices, if it is efficient enough. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish my work.”

“And I’ll be right here, making sure you don’t stay up too late,” Twilight stated, mere minutes before Soban’s right hand put her to sleep once more.

“Looks like we have about ten more minutes before Canterlot Station, sir,” Shining Armour informed Soban.

“That went by quicker than I had hoped.”

“Why did you want to go by train, anyway? You know I could have easily arranged for a pegasus chariot. Or Twilight could have taken us instantly. She’s getting much better with her teleportation accuracy over long distances.”

“Eh, there’s no fun in that. And I’ve seen Equestria from the air many times. It’s a great sight and all, but watching everything roll by from the ground can be spectacular in its own way.”

Shining Armour chuckled. “I don’t mean to tease, but I find it quite amusing you can be so … What’s the word I’m looking for? Sentimental, about scenery.”

“Most people think that, too. I just find it relaxing, plain and simple. Whether it’s the landscape, clouds, or hyperspace, I just find it a simple pleasure of life. And in my line of work, I need all the relaxation I can get, especially after … you know. That battle.”

“You holding out okay, then?”

“I think I’ll be fine, eventually.” Soban sighed, staring out of the window, as the train shot out of a tunnel. After a while, he faced Shining Armour once more. “You know, I’ve been thinking about retiring for a while now. Once this whole Progenitor issue is dealt with, that is. Though I wonder if it would be possible to end up with a small house here.”

“In Equestria? Ahh, I don’t know, to be honest. I see no issues, though. Most other foreigners are permitted. Even griffons. But then who will take your place aboard Harmony?”

Soban shrugged. “Probably Midnight.”

“Mid—Midnight Oil? The sulky grey Earth pony?”

“That’s the one. Wait, why sulky?”

“I knew Midnight for several years, having been his superior officer. We were never more than acquaintances, and our relationship was strictly professional, but dear Celestia, was he a dull stallion. He was cynical, lacked emotion, or at least good ones, anyway, and never a positive thing came out of his mouth. Brilliant officer, mind you, and surprisingly considerate, but not the type anypony would want to hang around.”

“Huh. He seemed alright to me.”

“Well he was never always that way. He had horrible luck with friends. Financially used and betrayed by at least four others, and a failing marriage had eventually taken a toll on him. My guess is he is intentionally distancing himself, to avoid being put in that situation again. It’s irrational, but in a way, I can understand him. Oh, hey, get your things ready. We have arriv—Did I just see Firelance out there?”

“Yeah. I’m staying the night with him, before returning to Harmony. Considering we were all on duty, it was difficult to get much time in for socialising. For me, anyway. You would not believe the amount of paperwork I still have unfinished in my office! Would be nice to sit around without any worries and knock back a few cold ones for a few hours. But first, I have to talk to Princess Luna about one or two things.”

“… And you’ve never played poker before, huh?” Nova raised an eyebrow at Soban, and the impressive collection of chips piled nearby.

Soban fiddled with a chip. “Nnnnnnno.” Technically, he told the truth, though Hiigarans had similar games.

As usual, Firelance was rummaging through his kitchen for his several secret stashes of alcoholic beverages, after the trio had ended their game. Sending a beer to each of his friends and setting down his own at the small round table they were seated at, Firelance took a fourth beer, and emptied the contents into his goldfish’s tank.

“That fish has always creeped the living hay right out of me,” Nova remarked.

“What are you complaining about?” Soban cuffed him on the shoulder. “I have slept on the couch opposite to that fish tank. You try going to sleep when you have a psychotic goldfish smiling at you with those oversized teeth!”

“Boris is actually part piranha,” Firelance called out, as he watched a smile of contentment and bliss spread across his pet’s face. “Because of that, it’s a challenge getting friends to feed him when I have to go away for extended periods of time, especially since he seems to have developed a taste for ponies”—he shot a smirk at his friend—“Nova.”

“How do you know that fish’s lineage? And how in blazes was I supposed to know it was a psychopath?” Nova automatically winced at the memory he had of the year-old incident.

“What I want to know is what you were doing to get your hoof within biting distance in the first place! Ahh well, he still loves me, and that’s all that matters!” Firelance placed his hoof in the tank, stroking Boris’s head. “See?”

“’Lance, you really need to get yourself a fillyfriend”—Nova shook his head—“You worry me sometimes.”

“I’ll have you know I might be interested in somepony!”

“That cellist doesn’t count, ‘Lance,” Soban teased.

“Hey, that’s not fair! Can’t a stallion have a fantasy?” Firelance shot back, while drying his hoof on the carpet. “‘Sides, it ain’t her, even if I would give my left hoof to play with her ‘instrument’.”

“Well there’s a surprise,” Nova said, genuinely surprised. “Though I’ve never really seen you get along with mares. You don’t exactly have a way with words. Or flattery. Or tact.”

“I do, too!” Firelance retorted with a stomp.

Soban suppressed a grin. “I’m going to have to side with Nova on this one. You remember the comments you made to Zenith about probing?”

“That’s because I enjoy her reactions, Mel”—Firelance returned to the table, downing half his beer in one go—“and she gets all cute when she becomes bothered and flustered.”

Nova blinked. “Cute? ‘Lance, I have known you since we were colts, and I have never heard you use that word before,” he paused, ears pricking at his epiphany. “Dear Celestia, you’ve got your eye on her, don’t you?”

Firelance grinned sheepishly. “Umm … Yeah. Yeah, I do. Might be the glasses, I dunno. Ahh—hey, hey! I see that cheeky look on your face! Open your mouth, and I swear I’ll get Boris to make sure you never have foals again!”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything”—Nova held his hooves up—“right, Mel? Did I say anything?”

“Nope. Not a thing,” Soban replied, now suppressing an urge to burst out laughing.

An awkward silence followed, before Nova decided to speak up again. “So … Does she know?”

“Oh for fu—Shouldn’t you be getting home to your wife, or something? Isn’t ten your bedtime?” Firelance shot a glare at his friend.

“Forget her, I wanna hear this first!”

“What’s to hear?” Firelance shrugged. “And no, she doesn’t. Kinda bad timing right now.”

“Really?” Nova’s mischievous grin returned. “Oh, I am going to have so much fun with you tomorrow!”

Firelance tapped a hoof on his chin and looked up at the ceiling. “You know, Boris hasn’t had dinner, yet. Normally I would give him two apples and a banana, but I’m sure he won't mind the temporary change in diet.”

Soban chortled. “And you said ‘Lance doesn’t have a way with words! Well, ladies, I’m going to have to get back to my work. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

“You still up, huh?” Firelance emerged from a shower, long after Nova had bid farewell.

“Yeah”—Soban snapped shut his books and notepad—“I think I’m done, though. This training schedule was an absolute nightmare to finalise, but I think it’s going to be as good as it’ll get. Hopefully we can implement it after our meeting with the Hiigaran fleet,” he said, with a stretch. “So were you being serious with the whole Zenith thing?”

“Uh huh.”

“Okay. Well this would be the point where I would warn you about relationships in a military environment being unacceptable, but then again, I don’t know how it works in Equestria. Either way, doesn’t she hate you?”

“Hate? Nah”—the pegasus waved his hoof—“I don’t think so. She probably sees me as a little annoying, but I do what I do in the name of fun. Anyway, I’m probably getting ahead of myself, but I’ve got a few mates in the royal guard who have hooked up, so I don’t think there are any issues here.”

“Alright. Just thought I should bring it up. By the way, what time are you returning to Harmony?”

“Ahh, I dunno. When do you plan on returning?”

“Around seven in the morning. I had planned on returning at night, but I didn’t think I would have my meeting with Princess Luna so early today. Speaking of which, you’re all getting new uniforms sometime within the next few months.”

“Ooh, nice! But hold on a sec. You couldn’t have been with Luna for that long, just talking about uniforms, right?”

“No, I had other issues to discuss with her, but I won’t bore you with the details.”

“A’ight, then I’ll see you in the morning. Nighty night.”

“Good night ‘Lance.”

“We need to figure out a new method of transferring crew, Captain,” Luna commented, as Soban resumed his place at Harmony’s bridge. “I am a busy mare, and it seems as if my obligations to transfer you and your crew are purposefully timed to parts of the day when I must take care of several pressing affairs.”

Soban descended into his seat. “I can get construction to work on some vessels to shuttle crew between the ground and orbit, but I’m afraid it’s currently low priority.”

Princess Luna sighed. “Very well, I understand. I shall leave you to your mission, then. Good day.” Lighting up her horn, she disappeared in a flash.

Zenith entered the bridge. “Good morning, Captain. I trust you had a decent break?”

“Decent enough, thanks. You are aware of our mission today, yes?”

“Seems straightforward to me, sir. Five hours to the Turquoise Nebula, meet with the Hiigaran flagship Sajuuk and the battlecruiser Masmak, exchange some information, transfer the fifth hyperspace core to Sajuuk, and return home. Correct?”

“More or less. Is everypony aboard?”

“I think so. I can double-check for you … Yes, you and Firelance were the last to board. Timberwolf and Ursa Major report they are ready, along with our mobile refinery.”

“Good, good. How did the repairs go?”

“Everything is as it should be. Well, almost everything. Our ship still needs a new coat of paint, but that’s not really important right now, correct?”

“Correct. Alright, then we can head on out right away. Set coordinates for the Turquoise Nebula.”

“Thirty seconds until hyperspace exit, sir,” Zenith reported.

Soban smiled at his shipmate. “You’re going to love this place, Zenith. One of the galaxy’s enigmas, because nobody knows if this place is a natural formation or not. It looks like something had exploded, but it’s way too small to have been a sun. Just another mystery of the galaxy, I suppose, but it’s just breathtaking. Here we go, take a look for yourself …”

Harmony, Timberwolf, Ursa Major and the mobile refinery arrived along the outskirts of the tiny nebula. No more than a few hundred kilometres in diameter, it consisted of a small sphere of dense, green gas and rock, while long, snaking tendrils of turquoise gas trailed out in every direction. A dim, orange sun burned far off in the distance, and the nearby galactic centre served as a backdrop behind even more distant tufts of colossal dust clouds.

Except for the Captain, the entire bridge crew gasped, and their eyes flared with awe.

“It’s … gorgeous!” Zenith spoke up. Quickly realising her role, she cleared her throat. “Ahh, hyperspace successful. We—wait, that’s not right. We’re alone. The Hiigaran fleet is nowhere to be found.”

“Oh they are around,” the Captain reassured. “There is a reason we chose this location to meet up. Given the sensitivity of what we carry, and the information we are to exchange, this nebula serves as a secure place, as its gas blocks communication and masks us within its centre. The fleet will be waiting inside for us,” he finished, proceeding to open comms. “Timberwolf, Ursa Major, move up and establish communication while we draw closer. Oh, and Zenith, let’s empty our hangars and get all our ships into formation with us. They will have to serve as our eyes once we enter the gas.”

Engines blasting away, the destroyer pair sailed off towards the nebula’s small centre, leaving the larger, slower flagship to catch up, while releasing its resource collector and eighteen squadrons of strike-craft. Each squadron lined up alongside Harmony in four rows, based on their types, with the resource collector bringing up the rear alongside its mobile refinery in a fifth row.

“Ursa Major approaching nebula centre. Wow, this gas is more like a thick fog. Visibility can’t be more than a few hundred metres. Timberwolf, recommend we slow to sixty metres per second. Looks like instruments are going to be unreliable from here on in.”

“Timberwolf copies. Slowing t— … -ty mete— … -nd. We—”

“Captain, I’ve lost all trace of both destroyers,” Zenith reported, a hint of concern in her voice.

“To be expected. We should regain communication once we are inside, provided we remain in proximity to the others.”

Several minutes after they had first breached the thick gas, Harmony navigated its oversized body painstakingly through the light asteroid field, while the strike-craft surrounded Harmony or scouted ahead to report back any obstructions that may cause harm to the behemoth. Eventually, the fleet reunited, and found themselves alongside the Hiigaran fleet.

Soban was the first to attempt contact. “Captain Soban here. Sajuuk? You reading us alright?”

“Yes, Captain,” Karan S’jet’s voice replied. “Welcome. Stand by. We’ll arrange for transportation to bring you aboard.”

“No need, Fleet Command. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be over,” the Captain finished. “Zenith, message Shining Armour to meet me on deck four, just outside section twenty-seven, then tell Corona to do the same, so she can teleport us over.”

“Yes, sir.”

Several officers were seated in a dim conference room, exchanging quiet words, while another at the head of the table organised several stacks of folders. A bright flash of light at the opposite end caused them all to jump, when three newcomers materialised in mid-air.

“ARRRGH-oof!”

“Ow, my back!” Shining Armour groaned on the floor, after Corona hit the edge of the table and landed on his back. “What the hay, Corona?”

“I’m sorry, it’s hard to make a blind teleport, when the description of where to appear is so vague.”

“Never mind, never mind. As long as”—Soban straightened himself up with a grunt—“as long as it’s easier to get back.” Looking around, he froze when he became aware of his audience. “Well, at least we don’t have to walk to the conference room.”

“That has to be the most interesting method of entering a room I have ever seen,” one of the many bewildered officers commented. Saluting, the one beside the projector introduced himself. “Wing Commander Leykab.”

“Pleasure,” Soban replied, only just realising how surprised a briefing room full of officers would be at their entrance. “This is Corona, and Shining Armour.”

“Ahh! I’ve heard a lot about you, uhh … Captain Armour?”

The stallion smiled. “Just Shining will do, thanks. I’ve never been big on formalities.”

“Shining, it is. Now then, shall we get started? Forgive my urgency on the matter, but this is something you will most definitely want to see. Fleet Command?”

“Thank you, Wing Commander,” Karan’s voice returned. “Captain Soban, you recall the encounter with the keepers while you commanded Manaan, yes? Well after your victory, Captain Nabaal seized the opportunity to recover the remains of the keepers. As they were the first ever defeated keepers that left behind any significant remains after their destruction, he intended to analyse their exoskeletons to discover how their armour could withstand even a fully charged phased-cannon hit from this vessel. What the resource collectors brought back was far more interesting, however. Please direct your attention to the projector.”

Appearing at the centre of the table, a holographic projection depicting a keeper appeared. The image rotated and zoomed on a particular section of the autonomous vessel, as something of importance was highlighted.

“This was one of the sections recovered. It housed many systems for controls and sensors, but of particular interest was a data recorder. One that had been running since its creation. Decrypting it took considerable time and effort, but eventually we managed to view everything. Audio, video, transmissions. Everything. Captain, we now know why the Progenitors disappeared.”

The projection disappeared, as Karan continued.

“Approximately ten-thousand years ago, the final keeper emerged from production. In one go, every keeper was activated, and given three instructions by the Progenitors in this order: ‘Wipe the galaxy of all life’, ‘obey your makers’’, and ‘allow no harm to come to your makers’. Paraphrased, of course. However, a programming fault instructed the keepers to accept these orders individually, rather than in one go. As a result, only the first instruction was accepted. The keepers immediately saw the Progenitors as targets, and ignored any subsequent commands. Realising hundreds of keepers now had their sights on the Progenitors, they abandoned the galaxy via a trans-galactic super-gate, deep within a fortress known as Khorsabad.”

“That’s the name those two keepers mentioned!” Soban jogged his memory.

“Exactly,” Karan continued. “We all know keepers will pursue a target relentlessly, until they no longer detect sufficient energy or life signs in their target, or no longer have the means to follow. This super-gate was powered by four components that automatically disconnected as the final Progenitor fled our galaxy. No longer able to pursue them, the hundreds of keepers powered down and waited. So far we do not know why the keepers haven’t gone on a galactic crusade to destroy everything, though. It seems they are mainly in some sort of defensive mode. Of particular interest is that one of those components powering the gate is a hyperspace core.”

“We are the keepers of Khorsabad. We are the guardians of the sixth,” Soban quoted.

“Precisely. The final core is most certainly at Khorsabad. However, this is where all useful information ends. For all the data stored in the recorder, the location of this fortress remains unknown. Likely, it was purposefully never recorded, as this gate seems to be the only way in and out of this galaxy, which means if what the Bentusi said was accurate, the Progenitors would return through that gate. We need to find that gate before it is too late.”

Soban frowned. “Any chance of narrowing the search areas down? I mean, the galaxy is a pretty big place.”

“I’m afraid not, Captain. However, given how highly the Bentusi spoke of you in that audio log you sent us, I suspect you and your fleet might be the only ones who could find it. We will assist wherever possible, but at present, we are clueless.”

“Damn. Alright, alright, well unless there is anything else to discuss, I’ll oversee the transfer of our fifth core, while you have your interview with Shining Armour.”

“Thank you, Captain. That will be all. Shining Arm— … Excuse me for a moment.”

…

“Captain Soban, you and your crewmates should return to your ship immediately,” Karan’s voice returned, holding the same calm tone she always used.

“Is something wrong, ma’am?”

“Turanic Raiders. Our position has been compromised. Fortunately, Sajuuk’s sensors were able to pierce the fog and pick up multiple contacts. Three cruisers, a carrier, five frigates, and several strike-craft.”

“How did a bunch of Turan—”

“Captain, go! No time for questions!”

“What do you mean you can’t put your shield up?” Soban yelled, back on the bridge of his vessel. “I thought you said your magic returned!”

“There is a massive difference between lifting something up, and making a shield, sir,” Shining Armour reasoned. “I’ve tried already, Captain. I thought I could hold it, even if for a short time, but I just can’t do it.”

“Great. Just great. Now we have—hold on, incoming transmission.”

“Captain?”

“Yes, Fleet?” Soban replied, drumming his fingers in frustration.

“The Raiders have activated a powerful hyperspace inhibitor we have never seen before. Even our hyperdrive is offline. We are trapped.”

“Perfect,” he groaned. “Alright, we’re ready for orders.”

“Sensors indicate a large wave of fighters inbound. ETA is two minutes. The gas’s interference will put us at a tactical disadvantage, so I want your interceptors and gunships to buy us some time as we exit the nebula. Battlecruiser Masmak will cover our port side. You take our starboard, and have both your destroyers above us. The Raiders approach from a forty-degree inclination.”

“Yes ma’am. Lightning squads one to four, intercept the raiders with Typhoon squads one to six. Lightning, stick with the corvettes until you are all within weapons range, then break off and pick your targets. Timberwolf, Ursa Major, you heard Fleet, now go!”

“Captain, these cruisers are approaching us faster than I would have thought possible,” Karan returned, the concern in her voice ever-increasing. “I can take out the lead cruiser in one hit, but the other two are attempting to flank us. I won’t be able to turn around in time to take out another one, so your destroyers will need to concentrate fire on the second cruiser. Masmak will assist.”

“How long until they are in range?”

“Four minutes. Five, at best. Looks like your interceptors and corvettes have already engaged the enemy fighters. Prepare your bombers and pulsar gunships. Enemy frigates and corvettes aren’t too far behind those fighters. Once we take them out, it will be just the cruisers and that carrier. Masmak will launch its five squads of cloaked bombers.”

“Cloaked bombers?”

“Experimental hit-and-run fighter design. Carries unguided bombs with compressed plasma. I want your interceptors to draw fire away from them when the time comes.”

“Copied, ma’am. Enemy fighters are withering. Sending bombers and pulsars in. Thunder squads one to three, stick with Whirlwind squads one to five. They will keep enemy corvettes off your backs. Just focus on doing as much damage as possible to those frigates.” Leaning forward, Soban monitored what he could, as a single bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face.

“Lightning one-one reports all fighters eliminated,” a pilot reported. “Several others need to dock for repairs, though. Stray rounds clipped us.”

“Unless it’s life-threatening, we don’t have time to pull you out of the field,” Soban retorted. “There’s just no—”

“Wait! Enemy forces have stopped,” Karan cut in. “Their corvettes are retreating to the carrier. Go, dock quickly, before the Raiders decide to continue their advance.”

The four interceptors squads blazed past their gunship comrades, reaching Harmony’s hangar with no time to lose. Attaching to the walls of the hangar, the automated repair systems sprang to life, and began to prod, poke, cut, and weld compromised areas of the damaged fighters’ hulls. Within the minute, the sophisticated devices finished their repairs, and the vessels shot out of the hangar once more.

“Captain Soban?” Karan’s voice filled the bridge again. “We might have a bigger problem. The Raiders are entering hyperspace, but the carrier remains. It has resumed its approach towards us.”

“Oh, don’t tell me,” Soban dripped with sarcasm. “The rest of their fleet is going to short jump, and we are going to be surrounded, right?”

“I’m afraid so. They should be—yes here they are. Remember your orders. Concentrate fire on the second cruiser. Keep them away, or we won’t be able to track them effectively.”

Emerging from hyperspace, the fleet finally had a visual on the trio of cruisers surrounding them. Composed of junk parts strapped together to form a large, crude armour, the long, rectangular vessels were armed to the teeth with turrets of all sizes. Literally, as Soban noted a decorative jawbone design at the bow of each vessel. Painted with the tiger-striped design of the Turanic Raider clans, the low-tech beasts relied on sheer brute force to overcome their adversaries.

“Phased cannon array charging,” Karan announced. “All ships, mind the firing arc.”

The battlecruiser Masmak ducked underneath Sajuuk, and joined Harmony in taking apart the second cruiser. A total of eight ion cannons swept across the hull of the Cruiser, while Masmak supplemented its weaponry with several giant turrets of its own, hurling armour-piercing lumps of metal, along with the two destroyers, each having a good view of the battle from high above the others. The cruiser ignored its beating, and focused instead on attacking Sajuuk.

“Our ions barely did anything to the damn Cruiser!” Masmak’s Captain swore. “We’re going to need at least two more goes at this. Thirty seconds until next ion cannon firing. Dammit, the carrier is launching more strike-craft!”

Responding to the turn of events, the interceptors, and pulsar gunships broke off from the main battle, in an attempt to head off the incoming strike-craft before they could interfere, while the Equestrian bombers teamed up with the Hiigaran cloaked bombers to assault the second cruiser.

“Phased cannon array fully charged.”

The surrounding nebula was illuminated brilliantly as Sajuuk fired. An intense gold beam flared from the aperture on the fore of the ship, and punched straight through the first Cruiser. Save for the charred remains of its engines, the Cruiser had been completely and utterly vaporised by the time the cannon had ceased fire. The sudden annihilation of their foremost cruiser seemed to intimidate the bold aggressors, whose ships seemed to hesitate for a moment, before pressing their attack once more.

“Captain Soban, we have pinpointed the origin of the inhibitor field,” Karan broadcasted. “There is a device attached to the underside of the enemy carrier. Our cloaked bombers will break off and destroy this device. Send all available strike-craft to the enemy carrier and get their attention, so our fighters can slip through undetected. Make it quick. I have a strong suspicion these cruisers are going to attempt to board us.”

“What?” Soban’s voice cracked. “Strike-craft, you heard the lady. Move it!”

“Ion cannons ready,” Masmak reported. “One more after this, Soban!”

Another eight ion cannon beams swept across the second cruiser, causing several visible ruptures with billowing smoke. Several of its turrets appeared to be offline, and many lights seen through the cruiser’s tiny windows could be seen flickering and shutting off.

Despite the damage, the second Cruiser, along with the third, continued approaching Sajuuk, closing to a distance of mere kilometres, and showing no signs of slowing down.

“Bombers, we need that inhibitor destroyed. Now!” Karan’s voice began to show hints of fear. “We are running out of time!”

“Thunder two-one here. It—it’s no good, I’m pulling my squad out. Some of my guys are badly damaged.”

“Typhoon three-one, we’re following suit. Sorry guys.”

“Ion cannons charged!” Masmak’s Captain yelled.

This was the final blow. The ion beams had finally penetrated the armour and took out something volatile. A gut-wrenching explosion from within the second cruiser had snapped it in half, as if it were a twig, and plumes of plasma shot out in every direction.

“Yes! Second cruiser down. Now move your ass over and get that last cruiser, Soban.”

“It’s too late,” Karan stated. “Prepare for collisi—”

…

“All ships, the third cruiser has latched on to us. We are being boarded. We have no choice but to prepare our contingency plan.”

Soban’s eyes widened in realisation. “Surely you don’t mean—”

“Captain, I expect you to carry out my orders to the letter. After this transmission, I will remove myself from my core and jettison all four cores. I will manually guide them to your construction bay for you to keep safe. You will take your fleet back to Equestria after the destruction of the inhibitor, and Masmak will return to Hiigara to report the loss of Sajuuk and begin elections for a new Fleet Command. Do not pursue the Raiders. Stick to your mission. The Hiigaran Defence Fleet will take all the necessary steps to keep the Raiders at bay.”

“Fleet, there is no reason why you can’t escape as well,” Soban reasoned.

“Captain, I will not risk the detonation of the most powerful ship in the galaxy from a remote location!” Karan yelled for the first time in history. “We cannot allow the Raiders to possess Sajuuk, or the cores. Now follow my orders. Fleet Command out.”

Oh this is not good. Not good, Soban was on the verge of panicking. “All strike-craft are to retreat immediately upon the destruction of the hyperspace inhibitor, and prepare for immediate hyperspace. Masmak, once we leave, jump to a safe distance, and confirm the destruction of Sajuuk before returning to Hiigara.”

“Firing last salvo of warheads,” one of the cloaked bomber pilots reported. “Aaaaannnndddd … There we go, inhibitor down. That’s it, we’re buggin’ out!”

“Nothing we can to for Sajuuk anymore. Timberwolf, Ursa Major, the cores have been released. Cover their approach.”

Two cores from each side of Sajuuk emerged, slowly orienting themselves towards Harmony’s construction bay, as the destroyer pair came to a stop nearby. Crawling along in a painfully slow manner, the cores eventually touched down beside the core Harmony had already carried, at the same time the final strike-craft returned to the hangar.

“Alright, Masmak, we are heading off. Watch yourself.”

“You too, Soban. You too.”

“Karan, I don’t know if you can hear me, but … No words can express how much of an honour it has been to serve with you.” Cutting communications, Soban turned to his crew. “ Engage hyperspace.”

Author's Note

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ohm3CGrSFR8

12: Integration

“Today, our proud race finds itself shrouded in darkness. A darkness the people of Hiigara have not seen since the days of Kharak. Today marks the day our beloved leader, an icon, and symbol for our race, fell to the brutality of the Turanic Raiders. As kiith S’jet’s Kiith-sa, Fleet Command, and Hiigara’s Sa of Sas, Karan S’jet was perceived as our immortal beacon of hope for many generations. It is my sad duty to report that her guiding light has been extinguished.

Today, we set aside a moment in time to broadcast this message to all ships and installations spread across the galaxy. To waste any time in doing so would be an insult to her memory. To her life.

Karan S’jet was … an exceptional being. One of Kharak’s leading neuroscientists, it was she who bridged the gap between flesh and machine, knowing full well her work risked permanent connection to the mothership that led us back home. To Hiigara. Six months of isolation had left her body weak by the end of the ordeal, yet she endured, and against odds, survived extraction from the mothership’s core. The strength of her mind was matched only by the love for her people, and was rightly chosen as the leader of our military, Fleet Command, and as head of our government, the Sa of Sas. Huur S’jet would have been proud of his daught—”

Captain Soban muted the broadcast in his office. He had been pacing around frantically in solitude for several minutes, unsure of what to make of the events that had transpired. Where did those Raiders come from? How did they know about the meeting? This was clearly no rabble of mindless barbarians, so were they after Sajuuk for its power, or did they want the cores? Is Harmony in danger? Did the Captain make the wrong decision by returning to orbit above Equestria? Are they now in danger too?

He let out a shaky sigh. As much as the fiery desire for revenge ravaged through his blood, he could not ignore the one he respected above all others, and her final orders: Complete the mission. Not that he knew which clan of Raiders to pursue, anyway.

Soban took several deep breaths before peeking out of his office and into the bridge. Harmony’s officers had gathered around the main display, which played a live recording of a Hiigaran official who recited the same hastily written eulogy the Captain had listened to. Scanning the multicoloured crowd, he immediately saw Firelance, Nova, and Zenith, the former sandwiched between the others. Midnight Oil stood at attention by himself in the corner, a barely noticeable quiver on his lips. Twilight and her five friends, having arrived aboard just prior to the speech, sat at the centre of the crowd, their glistening eyes fixated on the feed.

The air hung thick with gloom. Though none of the crew had even seen the face of Hiigara’s most revered leader, the blow to morale was apparent, and the loss of several hundred other lives aboard Sajuuk had a much larger impact than the estimated four-figure death toll of the aggressors from Kadesh. It was rather ironic, the Captain noted, that this time it was he who was more composed than his crew, offering a stark contrast to the aftermath of Harmony’s first battle.

Soban stood at the doorway, unbeknownst to the occupants of the bridge, as he listened to the remainder of the broadcast. He shook his head at the rather lacklustre speech that did not do Karan’s life justice, but remained until the broadcast had concluded, and the crowd on the bridge had dispersed back to their posts. Despite everything, now was not the time to stand around idly.

Harmony remained unusually silent, and there was no exception as Soban escorted the bearers of the Elements to the construction bay, where Spanner awaited their arrival. “Hey, Captain”—he forced a smile—“I suppose you’ll want to get this over with as soon as possible, huh? We can’t exactly build anything with these five cores taking up all the space.”

The Captain nodded. “Which one is the loyalty core?”

“Right this way.” The greasy griffon lead the way to the other side of the construction bay, up several flights of stairs to the walkway that allowed passage to the entrance of the core.

Rainbow Dash looked down, and inspected the core. “Heh, it’s uhh … it’s a lot bigger than it looked when I first saw it.”

Applejack put a hoof around the pegasus. “S’alright, Rainbow. Ah’d be scared too.”

“I never said I was!” Rainbow shot a glare at her friend, a slight crack in her voice.

“Whenever you’re ready”—Spanner gestured towards the core entrance—“you may enter. Once inside, just stand in the marked area, and the machinery will do the rest. You may feel a slight stinging sensation along your scalp upon initial contact, but it will disappear after successful integration.”

Rainbow looked back at the others. “You—You mean you guys aren’t gonna be in there with me?”

“Nope. Once you are inside, the core goes into a sort of lockdown, which can only be undone when you disconnect,” Spanner explained.

Placing a tentative hoof on the walkway, Rainbow moved forward. Alright, Dash. You can do this. Just think of it as … impressing all of Cloudsdale. In front of the Wonderbolts. Yeah! No, wait … that’s not—

“Is something wrong, Rainbow?” Twilight prodded the pegasus, who had remained frozen with one of her hooves off the ground.

Rainbow shifted her eyes back and forth, resuming her approach towards the core hatch. “Uhh, no, I’m good. Just … thought I left the stove on at home. Heh.”

Eventually, Rainbow Dash had entered, taking a small elevator to the centre of the ancient device. Her surroundings were dark, and the walls, lined with strange components and circuitry, made the strangest sounds, alternating between hums, pulses, and groans.

“I guess this would be a bad time to tell everypony I have a tiny little problem with small spaces,” Rainbow muttered to herself, as she found a decently sized circular room with a hovering doughnut-shaped console in the centre. Guess that’s where I’m supposed to stand.

Flying over the console, several small objects around her had come to life as soon as she landed. Rainbow squeaked, as some of these objects attached themselves to her forehooves, while another lowered onto her head.

“Ouch! What the hay was—oh dear Celestia, I’m blind! I’m BLIN— … whoah.”

Rainbow’s vision had darkened, as her body and mind had adjusted to the strange new sensations that flowed over her and through her mind. No longer seeing the dim cavern in which she stood in, Rainbow Dash had images, hundreds of thousands of them, flashing, fading and zooming around her, and an eerie wave of serenity washed over her.

“Dash? Dash, can you hear us?” Soban’s voice met Rainbow’s ears from … somewhere.

“Uhh, yeah. Can you hear me?”

…

“Hello?” Dammit, how do I get this feathering thing to work?

“Rainbow Dash! Mind your language!” Rarity shouted.

Whoah, they heard that?

“Yes, we can hear your thoughts, remember?” Soban replied. “You should be able to control that, from what I’m told. Or at least, in due time. Apparently, it takes a little while for all the information on how to use the core to be downloaded into your mind and processed. Now tell us what you see.”

“I … kinda see everything. Like, everypony on Harmony, the moon, a—ooh, I can see my house from here! Cool, I can zoom in and look inside one of the windows I left open, too. I can even—oh horseapples, my stove really is on. Oh, wow, this is just awesome! I can see the surface of the sun! Twilight, you’re going to get a kick out of this!”

“Alright, I’m going to leave you to it, Rainbow,” Soban said, turning to the others. “Well since you are all here, does anypony else want to try their cores? Might as well get it out of the way now.”

Rarity, Applejack, and Pinkie Pie nodded enthusiastically, prompting the group to move to the core adjacent to the loyalty core.

“Let’s see”—Spanner ran a talon down a nearby monitor—“this one is the kindness core. That would be … Fluttershy, no?”

“Eep!” the timid mare hid behind Applejack.

“Come on, Fluttershy,” Rainbow Dash’s voice echoed around them. “It only looks scary. Once you’re in, it’s like … hay, I can’t describe it. But I promise it’s fine. I’ll bet you could check up on that manticore with the broken leg in the Everfree Forest if you want.”

Fluttershy straightened up. “Well, I have been meaning to check up on her.” Looking towards her core, she paused. “So I just enter?”

“And take the elevator down,” Rainbow advised. “Then keep going, and you’ll find a big room. Just stand inside the floating ring in the middle of the room, and that’s it. Oh, you might go blind for like three seconds, but you’ll be fine after that.”

Fluttershy’s eyes widened. “B—blind?”

“Ahh, forget I said that. Just trust me on this.”

Step by cautious step, Fluttershy eventually made it inside her core, as anxious and nervous as Rainbow Dash had been, letting out a squeak as she too, had her mind melded with machine.

“Whoah. I’m guessing you’re in, Fluttershy. I can … feel you nearby. You okay there?”

“I—I think so. So this is what you can see. So much. So big. I thought the moon was much smaller than— … oh. Oh, gross, I can see into the … umm … the toilets.”

“Fluttershy!” Rarity admonished. “I expected better from you of all ponies!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I can’t stop the images. So many images!”

Rainbow snickered. “I kinda noticed that as well. You sorta learn to block it out after a few minutes.”

“Okay, let’s speed things up a bit”—Soban looked at Spanner—“Next core?”

“Lemme check … Laughter core.”

Soban pointed at the grinning ball of bouncy pink fluff. “Pinkie, you know what to do.”

Oh buck no.

“Fluttershy?” Twilight stared in confusion at the kindness core.

Fluttershy gasped. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have—but I didn’t want—I meant—oh stupid, stupid Fluttershy!”

To Fluttershy’s relief, Pinkie didn’t hear a word, as she had already disappeared in a silent cloud and blur. Finding herself deep within her core, Pinkie’s booming voice took Soban and his company by surprise.

“WOOHOO, YEAH! Testing, one-two-three! Everypony hearing me?”

“Yes Pinkie!” Soban shouted over the ear-splitting voice. “Loud and … very loud.”

“You were right, Dashie! You really can see everything! Like, everything everything! Atoms, elements, molecules, compounds, DNA, proteins, cells, skin, a horn and—oh hi, Twilight! I seeeeee yoooooou! Betcha can’t see meeeeee! Oh, oh wait, Applejack, you got something on your face. Yeah, to the left. No, no, your other left. Yes, just a little higher. Almost. Almost. Yep, you got it! Oh, I know! Rainbow Dash! Read my mind. What colour am I thinking of?”

Rainbow Dash sighed. “Pink?”

“Yay, you got it! What about … now?”

“Pink.”

“Ooh, you’re good! How about—”

“It’s pink! It’s always pink!”

“Hey! How come you get to see into the future, and I can’t? Well I guess I have my good ol’ Pinkie sense. And how come you got a headache, Flutters?”

“Pinkie! Give it a rest!” Rainbow shouted. “Rarity? AJ? You ladies wanna … hehe, jump in and go for a ride?”

Applejack and Rarity eventually settled into their respective cores, exchanging comments about the new sensations and capabilities bestowed upon them, while Rarity reeled in disgust at some of the crude thoughts that drifted through the farm pony’s mind. Rainbow Dash had come down with a particularly nasty case of the giggles when Fluttershy had let slip a thought regarding the ‘hot flank’ of one of the crew members in engineering.

Twilight remained with Soban and Spanner. “Well that takes care of them. Now what about me?”

“That’s going to be the tricky part. We still haven’t made any progress on finding the sixth core. I mean, not exactly a lot of intel to go on. Those two keepers we defeated simply said they were the ‘guardians of the sixth’, and they were from Khorsabad, but that’s pretty much it, and the most I’ve been able to gather about Khorsabad’s location is that it’s a place found only by those who have seen it.”

“Does everything have to be so cryptic?” Twilight huffed.

“You’re asking me? I’ve put up with this ancient garbage well before I found your world, and it got old and frustrating real quick.” Rolling his eyes, he sighed. “Okay, I’ll give your friends a few minutes to get accustomed to their cores, and then they can disconnect.”

“Alright, there we go”—Soban knelt beside Rainbow Dash with her mane held back in his hands, the latter having spent the past few minutes throwing up into a bucket—“let it all out.”

“Why”—Rainbow shuddered—“isn’t anypony else feeling si—hrrk!”

“We’re all on the verge of it, dear,” Rarity assured, taking particular care to remain well clear of the reeking container her friend was hugging. “I doubt it was a pleasant experience for any of us to disconnect from our cores.”

“Ooh! You had waffles for breakfast, huh?” Pinkie pointed at the bucket’s contents. The mere comment sent Rarity over the edge, and galloping away to the nearest restroom.

Soban shot a look sideways at the least affected of the five. “You’re not helping, Pinkie.”

“That’s … okay. I—I think I’ll be fine,” Rainbow panted, wiping her mouth. “Ugh, I’m not looking forward to doing that again.”

“Yeesh”—Twilight reeled—“that looked nasty. At least I’ll know what to expect.”

“Yay. Lucky you,” Rainbow replied flatly, spitting into the bucket.

“Alright, come on, we should get some fluids in you. All of you. Got some cups of tea with your names on them.”

“Does it have to be tea?” Applejack asked.

“Dried lime tea, specifically. Boil some water with crushed, dried limes, and they will settle your stomach in an instant. It’s a common Hiigaran remedy even Karan took while—” Soban cut himself off, a wave of anger washing over him. Unclenching his fist, he sighed. “Let’s wait for Rarity, then head to the mess deck.”

“This stuff tastes funny”—Applejack gave the foreign liquid another quick sip—“though not in a bad way, mind. Not what ah’d expect from tea. Ah’m a coffee gal m’self, though. Coupl’a short blacks in th’ mornin’ would get me clearin’ out them apple trees, lickety split!”

“Bleh”—Pinkie made a disgusted gesture with her hoof and mouth—“I don’t like coffee. It’s so bitter, no matter how much sugar I add, so I just avoid it like the cutie pox.”

“Funny. I always assumed you were on a permanent caffeine high, or something,” Soban stated.

“Why would you think that?” Pinkie tilted her head to a rather unnatural angle.

“Well for starters, explain to me how you managed to hang yourself from the hot water pipe on the ceiling, when you were sitting at the table with your tea just a few seconds ago,” Soban commented casually, no longer surprised by the energetic entity’s antics, given the immunity his mind had developed against her over time. An immunity, it seems, the others shared.

“I’unno, but it’s warm up here!” she wiggled, looking strangely like an oversized, bright-pink bat.

Before the Captain could respond, he felt a slap on his back, as the fiery-maned pegasus took a seat beside him. “’Sup Mel. How’s— …” Firelance stared up at Pinkie.

…

Pinkie stared back, a vacant expression on her face.

…

“So how’s that core thing coming along?” he continued, wisely opting to ignore Pinkie and her cotton candy mane, which cascaded down and brushed along some of the seated individuals as she swung herself to and fro.

“Looks to be a success”—Soban took a sip of his own tea—“though I didn’t expect everypony to end up trying it all at once. At least we got that out of the way. Well, apart from Twilight, but there’s no reason why she can’t give it a go later on. The Elements might not work if she uses the wrong core, but she can still use the other functions of the cores. There were a few uhh, side effects, though. Let’s just say the cleaning crew still haven’t finished scrubbing down Rainbow Dash’s core after her nauseating experience.”

“Eww.”

“Yep. In any case, Zenith should be around with a few reports we generated on the cores while they were occupied. Medical reports, analysis on core-ship interaction. All that.”

“Really? Sounds interesting. Well, uhh, excuse me, I gotta go meet up with Nova”—Firelance fumbled to get up—“See ya.”

Soban grabbed his mate by the foreleg, hiding a smirk from the fidgety pegasus who showed the slightest hint of nervousness. “Sit your ass down, you’re not going anywhere. I’m going to need your help soon, with calibrating the double-clockspeed capacitance-adjustment relay,” he lied.

“Is that even a real thing?” Twilight eyed the Captain.

“Of course!” Soban lied again. “I don’t expect you to know every single little component, Twilight. After all, the—oh hey Zenith. Take a seat beside Firelance. Got anything interesting?”

Zenith parked herself beside Firelance, who fidgeted once more. “A few things, yes. Systems across Harmony showed rather peculiar responses to the hyperspace cores. It’s as if the cores have somehow wormed their way into everything. The interesting part? We haven’t even connected the cores to the ship! Furthermore—you okay, Firelance? You look like you have fleas, or something.”

Soban waved a hand dismissively, suppressing the urge to laugh at his friend’s nervousness. “Ahh, he’s fine. You were saying?”

Zenith cleared her throat. “Ahh yes. Furthermore, I’ve detected an energy field after examining the cores with the construction crew. We haven’t analysed the data yet, so we cannot determine what this energy may be, other than that it is safe. However, we did note the field was uneven, and there appears to be a force generated by this field. It’s minute, but I noticed it when engineering reported our manoeuvring thrusters kept firing in short bursts to sustain orbit. I’d be willing to bet if the cores weren’t secured, they’d be flying about in the construction bay. I should have a more detailed report in a few hours, but until then, I’m on break.”

Soban clapped his hands together. “Great! You can stay with us, then.”

Zenith shrugged. “Alright. Didn’t have anything planned, anyway. So, I’m guessing these must be the Elements of Harmony, correct? I only got a glimpse of you six together back aboard Manaan.”

Rainbow Dash grumbled. “Why is it nopony instantly recognises us? Does the whole Nightmare Moon and Discord thing count for nothing? And we did kinda play a part in stopping the changeling invasion.”

“Rainbow dear, if you ever bother to listen to what Princess Celestia says to us”—Rarity rolled her eyes—“you would know she prefers if we weren’t publicised. Mostly because she thinks the unnecessary attention would disrupt our day-to-day lives. Personally, I wouldn’t mind. In fact, I’d love the recognition, but I know some of us would find it bothersome. So I suppose only those who bear witness to the Elements would know of us.”

Rainbow folded her forelegs. “Hmph!”

“Ignore her, darling,” Rarity addressed Zenith. “Rainbow Dash can be quite brash, at times. The name’s Rarity.”

“Rar—Rarity?” Zenith put a hoof to her chin. “The same Rarity who designs clothing?”

“The very same! Am I speaking with another satisfied customer?”

“I’d say so, yes. I’m quite a fan of your winter collection.”

“Oh, I can see you and I are going to get along just fine!”

“Hooo boy, two gals about to get into a fashion discussion, an’ Rarity’s one’a them. Brace yerselves!” Applejack stuck her tongue out at the white unicorn.

“Hush, you! Perhaps you might finally learn a thing or two about presentation and grace,” Rarity scoffed, returning her gaze upon Zenith, and gasping at her mane. “Oh my, I just had a wonderful idea! Forgive me if I sound forward, but if I paid you handsomely, would you mind if I highlight your mane some time? I’m not a mane stylist per se, but I have always wanted to expand my repertoire. After all, clothing should complement its wearer, and vice versa. Sadly, theoretical studies only get you so far with practice, and my friends are either unwilling, or their manes aren’t suited to it. Yours, however …”

“I’ve never understood why you mares feel the need to style yourselves so much. Zenith’s mane looks great the way it is,” Firelance blurted, realising moments later how his comment sounded, judging by the considerable altitude gained by Zenith’s eyebrow. “Uhh, I mean, ahh, think about it. All this stuff you do to yourselves just makes you something you aren’t, right? Why waste so much time worrying about how you look?” Crisis averted.

Rarity shook her head in disappointment. “Typical stallions. There are plenty of reasons for us to do all this ‘stuff’, as you so crudely put it, but I suppose with that mentality, I still doubt you’d understand.”

“Can’t say I disagree with him m’self,” Applejack cut in. “Waste’a time in mah opinion. Ya just have to do it again the next day, anyway. And fer what?”

“You have to brush your teeth the next morning and night as well. Is that considered a waste of time, too?” Rarity paused, a small frown creeping in on her expression. “You—you do brush your teeth twice a day, don’t you?”

“Mostly.”

“I’ll pretend that was a simple yes.”

“Well this conversation took a sharp feminine turn”—Soban moved to get up—“so I guess this is as good a time as any for me to finish some paperwork and take a quick nap. Let me know when the reports come in, Zenith.”

“Wait”—Firelance stopped the Captain—“what about that help you wanted with that double-clockspeed capacitance-adjustment relay?”

“What double-clockspeed capacitance-adjustment relay?” Soban smirked, whistling as he walked off.

“Captain? Captain, wake up!” Zenith’s voice persisted over the comms in the Captain’s quarters.

“Wha—? I’m up, I’m up. What is it? You got those reports ready?”

“Almost, but we have a more urgent matter on our hooves here. How soon can you get to the bridge?”

“Already getting dressed. What’s wrong?”

“Better I show you, instead. Just get up here ASAP.”

Wasting no time, Captain Soban donned his uniform once more, and set out towards the bridge at a brisk pace, tucking his shirt in, and aligning everything as he hurried along.

“Alright Zenith, I’m here. What’s going on?”

“We just noticed something on sensors,” Zenith explained. “There appears to be a small object sticking out of the ship, close to engineering.”

“Well? What is it?”

“I’m not sure. It’s in an area our external cameras can only get a partial visual of. I see engines, so maybe it’s some large missile from the Raider battle that wedged itself into the hull and failed to detonate.”

Soban leaned forward at Zenith’s closest screen. “That’s not a missile …”

Sure enough, in a small area between the reinforced armour of the engineering section, and the side entrances to Harmony’s hangar, a grey, tiger-striped object protruded from the hull like a parasite that had managed to partially burrow into its host. No more than ten metres in width and height, the blocky object showed no signs of life, save for a faded glow from its four large engines.

“Place the ship under lockdown. NOW!”

Moments after the Captain had issued the order, a low, buzzing alarm echoed throughout the vessel, as the floors shook with the slamming of doors and the sealing of compartments.

Zenith looked up, finalising the last of the lockdown procedures. “What’s going on, sir?”

“That’s a Turanic Raider corvette. The type designed to infiltrate. Zenith, find the closest Elements of Harmony bearer, and unlock a path to construction. Tell the bearer to contact me once integrated. I’ll need their eyes. Then find security group Alpha and tell them to meet me at the armoury. Unlock each section for us as we move, and lock them behind us. Got all that?”

“Contact bearer, find security Alpha, provide access to all of you. Got it.”

“I apologise, but exactly how were we meant to know what your ship looks like? At least, in such intricate detail, that we would notice something so small?”

“Forget it, Rarity. Can you see them?” Soban called out, while he and his team geared up. “Their body shapes would be similar to my own.”

“Should be simple enough … Ah yes, three of them. They’re hiding in section thirty-nine, four decks below your current position. You might want to be careful, though. They appear to be heavily armed.”

“Thanks Rarity, but we can take them without any problems. We have every advantage possible. Corona, you’re in charge of shielding us. Doughnut Joe, you’re on demolitions. Gail, take a pulsar rifle.”

“Aye,” the bulky griffon responded, slinging a rifle onto her side. “Alright, laddies, let’s go huntin’!”

“ Remember, we shoot to disable and disarm, not kill. I plan on interrogating this filth. Now move! Zenith, start unlocking sections!”

Rarity continued to oversee the security team’s movements. “You’re at the final door now, Captain. Watch yourself.”

“Will do, Rarity. Zenith, on my mark, open the door. Joe, the moment that door starts opening, get a stun grenade in there. Corona, set up a shield in the doorway, but leave openings for Gail and I to shoot from. Ready? Two to either side of the door, move it! Zenith, open the door in three … two … one …”

A hoof-sized cylindrical object was thrown into the room, making a ‘clink’ each time it bounced along the floor. Several shouts were drowned out as the device detonated. A brief display of brilliant, electric-blue lights lit up the rooms, as a pair of rifles rained down and burned clean through the legs of the three intruders. A split second later, they screamed in agony, collapsing on the floor with fist-sized, cauterised wounds through their legs.

“Drop your shield, Corona!” Soban yelled, dashing straight into the room after Corona complied. Side-kicking the nearest target in the face before he could reach his weapon, Soban pushed the fallen weapons away. Ignoring the second Raider who had already been knocked unconscious, the Captain focused his attention on the last trespasser, who remained flat on his back in silent agony.

The Captain knelt down above the Raider. “What are you doing aboard my ship?” he hissed, grabbing his victim by the armour, and pulling him up. “Speak!”

“Kraav no wos, dol—”

“Galactic Common, you vermin!” Soban hammered his fist into the Raider’s face. “I don’t want to hear that language of yours! I repeat, what are you doing aboard my ship?”

“You fled. We were … caught in your hyperspace wake,” the Raider’s voice strained.

“So you decided to try doing as much damage as you could before you would get killed? How did you know of our meeting with Sajuuk?”

“We. Were. Paid,” he wheezed.

“Paid by whom, huh? Paid by whom?”

“Nol ruusval maldo—”

“A name!” the Captain dealt another blow to the now-bleeding face of his prisoner.

“Nol ruusval Turan gav!”

Inhaling deeply, Soban released the man, letting him drop to the floor with a loud clang. He turned to his comrades. “All of you, outside. I don’t want any of you to witness this. Rarity? I know you’re still listening in. Cancel the lockdown and disconnect from the core.”

Neither Rarity, nor Soban’s companions needed to be asked a second time. As the three hurried out in single file, the Captain turned once again upon the single conscious being ahead of him. His gaze pierced the eyes of the fearful soldier, and once again, he spoke calmly. “Your kind destroyed our most valuable ship, killed both my commanding officer as well as Hiigara’s leader, and took another few hundred lives in the process”—Soban hovered his boot just above the Raider’s wound—“so here’s what’s going to happen. You will give me that name, and I will see to it your death is painless. Resist, and I will get … creative.”

The only reply the Captain received was a large glob of spit to the face. Wiping his cheek slowly, Soban applied pressure to the wound, eliciting a shriek from the Raider. The Captain paused momentarily to deliver another kick to the face of one of the other Raiders, as he noticed him coming to. “Disgusting pirate. Now, then. That name. I want. That. Name! Or perhaps I should use that creativity of mine, hmm?”

“Do your worst. We’ll see to it your friends’ world shall burn!”

Though the thick metal walls between Soban and his security detail muffled most of the noise, the others could still hear cracked screams and sobs for a good half hour, before several minutes of silence fell.

Finally, the doors opened. Soban emerged, a look of disbelief upon his pale face.

Mustering up some courage, Corona opened her mouth. “Captain? What happened?”

Soban merely looked at the unicorn and shook his head. “I’m going to need a few minutes alone. You’re all dismissed.”

13: Liir's Transmission

“Data transferred. For your sake, pray that this connection is as secure as you claim it is.”

“Hah! You do realise our cruisers are basically made out of Hiigaran ships, right? Unless of course, your ‘technological superiority’ isn’t as impressive as your people make it out to be.”

“Shut it. You want this job, or do I have to find myself another clan?”

“You seem to forget we could simply let your superiors know of what you have requested from us.”

“And you seem to forget my fleet could incinerate yours in mere seconds. That is, if you can even call yourselves a fleet. All I see are junk parts with engines.”

“Ahh, but the keyword there is ‘could’! Would you really risk everything, given that there is a chance even one of us could just slip into hyperspace? That’s right, I thought not. So let’s make things interesting. You have the demand, and we are the only ones with the supply, meaning we control the price here! We want two of those hyperspace cores, in addition to the original payment!”

“Our experimental hyperspace inhibitor should be payment enough! I will give you several of our latest Hiigaran-made cores, but the ancient cores are non-negotiable. You deliver all six to us. I can give you another five percent of the galaxy.”

“Ten percent.”

“Seven. Take it or leave it.”

“Very well, you have a deal. My men should be ready within four standard days. Plenty of time before the ‘secret’ meeting. Your Admirals should also meet their untimely demises shortly after, leaving you in the clear, Captain future-Fleet-Command Paktu. What of the other vessels with Sajuuk, though?”

“As long as your primary target is taken care of, and the cores are handed over to me, I don’t care what you do to the others. Destroy them, capture them, dismantle them, whatever. ”

“Aww, you don’t want to have a little fun with that Soban guy? I can tell you just absolutely adore him! Why not capture him and make him watch his favourite new planet burn?”

“What the hell do you think I look like to you? The overlord who gloats and derives pleasure from tormenting his adversaries? I neither care, nor have the time for such pointless endeavours. Just do your job quickly, and efficiently, you got that? And if you so much as think of double-crossing me, I’ll see to it that you watch your own planet burn. It’s amazing just how violently a single atmospheric-deprivation missile can react with oxygen.”

“Little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“Burning that planet of rainbow animals is a waste of time and resources. The threat of burning yours should keep you in line, and so it would serve a purpose.”

“Alright, alright! My, don’t you have a sand crawler up your ass.”

“Keep pushing me, and you’ll have several armour-piercing rounds up yours. Now get out of my sight!”

14: Betrayal

A crowd of engineering crew gathered around one of the many large conduits that lined a section just outside of Harmony’s primary fusion generator. One by one, the frantic cries and flailing hooves drew an increasingly larger crowd towards the source of the commotion. The chief engineer zipped back and forth behind Captain Soban, who for the past few minutes had been tearing out wires and snapping fixtures.

“Hey stop, Cap—why are you—come on, that’s going to take ages to fix!” the screams continued from the uneasy unicorn.

Soban ignored the panicked protests, opting to continue forcibly removing a heavy cylindrical object. Eventually, he left the crowd of dumbstruck engineers without a word, dragging the object on the ground and causing an ear-splitting scraping noise of metal on metal.

A while later, he successfully trekked almost half the ship’s length to the construction bay, still dragging the object callously. “Spanner!” Soban barked up at the griffon, who had been busy on a nearby scaffold. “Down here, now!”

Wasting no time, Spanner skidded to a halt in front of the Captain, a trail of grease shimmering on the ground behind him, where he had originally landed. He eyed the large, shiny object. “What’s that—”

“Standard tracking device”—Soban raised a hand to silence the griffon—“used on all Hiigaran-designed vessels. It securely transmits its location to those with the clearance to view such information, such as Captains of command ships. I want you to attach a small power source to it, then jettison it into orbit.”

“I can get it done in a few minutes”, Spanner heaved the device onto a nearby workbench. “Mind if I ask why, though?”

“We’re going off the radar. That’s all I will say. Haven’t got the patience to explain everything right now,” he spat.

“Uhh, alrighty then. I’ll let you know once I’m done. Will that be”—Spanner looked behind him to find himself alone—“all?”

“Where have you been, sir?” Zenith carried a hint of annoyance in her voice, as she spotted Soban entering the bridge. Ignoring a folded note he dropped on her station, she continued. “Everypony has been worried about—”

“Not now. Don’t care. Set coordinates for the location on that note, and prepare the fleet for immediate hyperspace.”

“Where are we going?”

“Just set the coordinates,” Soban insisted, tapping the side of his leg impatiently. “Notify me once we arrive. Midnight has the bridge until then. And destroy that note once you’re done.”

“But …” Zenith snorted irritably. Soban had already left.

“Firelance!” the continuous knocks upon the door persisted. “Open up already!”

A muffled, unintelligible combination of grunts and shouts served as Firelance’s reply, as he unlocked the door to his quarters to find …

“Z—Zenith?” the pegasus tensed up. “Uhh, isn’t it kinda late to be making house calls? Or early? Or—wait, what’s the time?”

Zenith rubbed her eyes. “Around four in the morning, by our standards. I don’t have the exact time on me. May I come in?”

“Uhh, sure. Just ignore the mess.”

Zenith grew wide-eyed upon the sight of several empty cans and bottles strewn about upon the floor. “I think ‘mess’ is an understatement. Haven’t you heard of a bin?”

“Bin’s full. Just haven’t had the time to bother cleaning up. I’m exhausted!” Firelance added, with a stretch of his wings. “Wanna drink?” he held out an unopened bottle of a suspicious liquid.

“Is that alcohol? Aboard this vessel?”

“I wish. I know, I know, we can’t drink here. Relax, it’s non-alcoholic beer.”

“I don’t suppose you have something a little less … putrid?” Zenith sat at the small table near the bed.

“Not anymore. Mel cleaned out the cider days ago.”

“That’s actually why I’m here.”

“For cider?”

“You idiot. It’s the Captain. His behaviour is concerning me. I was hoping since you know him better than anypony else, you might be able to shed some light on—on something. He has been really elusive since yesterday. Pretty much after interrogating those Raiders.”

“He told our security team to wait outside while he questioned them, but none of us dared to say anything when he came out to dismiss us. The look upon his face was … hay, it wasn’t furious, but we all knew it was boiling inside him. I could be wrong about this, but I swear he also looked like he was about to cr— … nah that doesn’t sound like him.”

“What happened then?”

“Dunno. We had all left by then. I don’t even know where he put the Raiders.”

“You don’t think he’s going to do something rash, do you?”

Firelance shrugged. “You tell me. Where’s the ship heading?”

“I have no clue,” Zenith sighed, propping her head up with a hoof, and shutting her eyes. “He gave me some coordinates, but the location was … well, it appeared rather insignificant. Pretty much the middle of nowhere.”

“How do you know?”

“Checked the galactic map,” she mumbled. “Just a few scattered dust clouds, and some small asteroids in the area.”

“Huh,” Firelance pondered. “Sure there weren’t any hostiles? Any installations or fleets at all?”

Zenith remained silent.

“What about Hiigarans? Could just be another meeting, right? Then again, if it was, why would the Captain not say that? Zenith? Zenith? Zee?” the pegasus prodded the non-responsive Zenith, sighing to himself. “Great.”

Firelance looked around his quarters, searching for a viable surface to use as a makeshift bed, though gave up shortly after, opting to place the deep-sleeper upon his own bed. Dragging the covers over Zenith, he sat on the side of his bed, and sighed once more. Guess the floor might look a little inviting if I moved those—hey, what the—

The pegasus broke out of his musing and gasped, as he noticed a pair of hooves wrap rather tightly around his waist. Hie eyes followed the hooves towards the still-sleeping Zenith, and bit his lower lip. Okay, this is a little awkward. Maybe if I wiggle out by … Dammit.

…

Hey, a book! I think I can … just … about … reach … Yes!

…

‘The Extensive Guide to Hyperspace Phenomena’? Where the hay did this come from?

The several hours that had passed for Firelance felt to him like days. Still sitting in the same position he became trapped in, he barely noticed his alarm going off, and he nodded off and jerked himself awake several times over the early hours of the morning.

The occupant of his bed stirred and groaned for a moment, before freezing at the sight of her surroundings, and the location of her hooves. As her eyes shifted upwards, she could make out the familiar cobalt-blue coat and fiery mane of the pegasus who sat with his back to her.

“Umm … Firelance?” Zenith withdrew her hooves slowly.

“Mmm?” the pegasus grunted.

“What, uhh … what exactly am I doing in your bed?”

“Fell asleep.”

“Aaannnddd why were my hooves around you?” she pushed herself up, rubbing a blurry eye.

“Dunno. You did that. I couldn’t move.”

“I—wha—?” Zenith blushed, quickly changing the subject. “Why didn’t you wake me, then?”

“Didn’t want to. You looked like you needed your sleep.”

“Well you certainly need it more than I do right now. You should probably take the day off.”

“Can’t. Supposed to be on duty in … an hour.” Firelance continued staring vacantly ahead.

“Not if you’re going to be asleep at your post, you’re not! I’ll find somepony to fill in for you, tell them that you’re feeling ill or something.”

“Thanks. I apprecia—”

*THUD*

Zenith shook her head at the sight of Firelance sprawled across the floor. With great effort, she managed to lift the drooling pegasus up and onto the bed, before making her way out.

“Thank you,” she said, as she closed the door and hastily returned to her own quarters to prepare for the upcoming day.

“Good morning, Midnight.”

“Zenith,” Midnight Oil acknowledged with a nod, bringing his gaze back to the hypnotising light show of hyperspace.

“Anything interesting happen last night?”

Midnight shrugged. “Eh, not really. Well, actually … This was the first night some of the Elements of Harmony spent sleeping in their cores. The pink one kept sleep-talking, and it bled through the speakers. You heard her?”

“I don’t think so,” Zenith approached her station. “Why? What was she saying?”

“No idea. Mostly just a random combination of words.”

“Maybe she was having a weird dream. We all have those every now and then.”

“Fifty bits says that prolonged exposure to her dreams would send Princess Luna herself into a mental asylum.”

“And fifty bits says you shouldn’t be talking behind somepony’s back, when they reside in a device that lets them hear and see everything.”

“Fortunately, I suffer from an acute case of chronic apathy.”

“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” Zenith giggled, well aware of Midnight’s demeanour. Dismissing her night-shift replacement, a teal earth pony by the name of Stadia, she briefly scanned the screens at her station. “Looks like we are approaching our destination. Wonder where the Captain is.”

“He’ll be up soon enough.”

“So you were able to contact him?”

“Nope, but he’s usually around for an arrival.”

“Alright.” Continuing to catch up on any new information at her station, she noticed an icon at the corner of one of her screens. “Hey, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there are several messages for you from construction.”

“Well aware of them. That nutjob griffon has been whining all night about those damn cores taking up his precious space. Like he expects me to do something about it!” Midnight ranted. “Last I checked, the messaging system was not intended to be used for flooding my inbox thing with an unfixable issue I’m well aware of.”

“Well, you can always let him know that.”

“Oh I intend to. As soon as my shift is over, I’m heading down there to let him know what I think.” Looking around the bridge, Midnight hummed. “Odd. Coming out of hyperspace, and the Captain still hasn’t—”

“I’m here, I’m here,” the latecomer stumbled onto the bridge. It had been clear from his unkempt image and baggy red eyes, that Soban had been slaving over something during the night. “Report, Zenith.”

“Uhh, hyperspace successful. We have arrived at … wherever we are,” Zenith stared in confusion at the barren void around Harmony.

The Captain headed to his seat, as Midnight started to get up. “No, no. I’ll need you to remain for a while, Midnight,” Soban reached for the comms. “Flagship Harmony to shipyard Nabaal. Nabaal? I know you’re out here.”

Just off Harmony’s stern, the giant construction vessel materialised into view, and Captain Elohim Nabaal’s reply followed. “Soban? What are you doing here? You’ve just contaminated several hours worth of readings for our experiment!”

“You know I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important,” the agitation in Soban’s voice was apparent. “Is your construction bay empty? I require your assistance with a couple of things, one of which involves modifications to my ship.”

“Sure. Fine,” Nabaal grumbled. “Might as well take a break before starting all over again, I guess. Go ahead and dock when you’re ready.”

“So, what can I do for you?” Nabaal sat in his office with Soban. “I take it this is not a social visit?”

“We have been betrayed, Elohim. The Turanic Raiders knew exactly where to find us.”

Nabaal blinked. “I’m not sure I follow. Betrayed?”

“It wasn’t mere coincidence that a large fleet of Raiders happened to come across us during our meeting, and I refuse to believe they had the means to employ a device powerful enough to stop even Sajuuk from entering hyperspace by themselves.”

“They had what? No, that’s definitely no coincidence. An experimental gravity generator of ours was ‘misplaced’ several weeks ago, matching those capabilities.”

Soban scowled. “How do you lose something that bi—never mind. Did anyone from another fleet dock with your shipyard around that time?”

“Too many to point fingers. We’ve poured through the surveillance data, but whoever took the device had managed to edit out anything suspicious. As far as internal footage was concerned, the device was there in one frame, then gone the next. Luckily, we had all the necessary data to simply reconstruct the device and continue our studies, but such a security breach? And to top it all off with the news of all the Admirals as well? I’m truly worried about what’s happening to us.”

“Wait, what about the Admirals?”

“Assassinated. All of them. Within minutes of each other in different parts of the galaxy. Happened just yesterday. The navy is in turmoil, especially since everyone has degraded into their mindless bickering over who becomes the new Fleet Command. Hiigara is looking to the Captains for their replacement now. In fact, I am one of two possible candidates for Fleet Command.”

“Who is the other?”

“Captain Paktu.”

The blood drained from Soban’s face.

“Mel? You alright?”

“That son of a—that explains everything! That’s why he wanted Karan out of the way!”

“Why he …” Nabaal frowned. “Mel, what are you implying?”

“Shortly after the Raider battle, my fleet retreated, inadvertently dragging a Raider corvette with us. Interrogation revealed Paktu staged the whole damn thing. He hired the Raiders to do his dirty work, and I’m willing to bet he also stole your device and authorised the assassinations. The bastard wants to seize power!”

“I— I don’t know whether to feel—No! No, that’s just not right! After everything we have been through, it comes down to such barbaric, despicable—” Nabaal paused, taking a deep breath. “We have to do something before this gets even more out of hand. This could tear our people apart.”

“I’m working on it, but I’ll need your help. Once your men have modified my vessel to house six hyperspace cores, I’ll need you to install that new cloak generator you guys have been working on.”

“But that device is still in its testing phase! Granted, it’s in late testing, but there’s still no guarantee it will work effectively under combat conditions.”

“It looked pretty effective to me when I arrived,” Soban folded his arms. “Besides, when has Nabaali technology ever failed, even in testing phases?”

“But— … I suppose you’re right,” Nabaal faltered. “Well, we’ve already begun on the core housings, so it shouldn’t take more than another few hours to get the generator in place. We will need at least seventeen hours for calibration and testing, though.”

“Can it be done with the shipyard in hyperspace?”

“The construction can, but the calibrations would have to wait until we drop out, so we can release your vessel.”

“Good. Then your fleet is coming back to Equestria with us right now. If Paktu is set on becoming Fleet Command, he will want to eliminate anyone that poses a threat to him, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him get near you!” Soban hammered a fist on his chair’s armrest.

“Is that wise? Wouldn’t you just expose a civilian world to unnecessary danger?”

“Two words: Lunar strike. That system is probably the safest in the galaxy.”

“Ahh, right, right. Well in that case, I’ll make the necessary arrangements and let you know when we will leave. I assume you will be back aboard your ship?”

“Actually, I was planning on spending some time on your firing range. Been meaning to get some practice in. Just one other thing, though. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves, so you should remove your tracker, stick a power source on it, and just leave it out here. If Paktu sees you above Equestria, he might get suspicious. If you receive transmissions from anyone, relay them to me. There are very few people I can trust right now.”

“Got it, Mel. If there’s anything else you need, my men are at your disposal. Effective immediately, my fleet is under your command. Only a few frigates, though. I had to commit most of my fleet to the Hiigaran Defence Fleet, after the Raider incident.”

“Better than nothing. I’ll take my leave, then.”

“Twelve-point-four seconds. Your best time yet!”

“Still not good enough,” Soban berated himself, turning to the officer who had been observing him. “ Record is a solid nine.”

“For what it’s worth, the average here is twenty-two seconds. Would you like me to reset the course?”

“No, no. I think I’ll take a break, Lieutenant. Dismissed.”

Soban parked himself on a nearby bench, stretching his aching muscles after countless attempts at a short, yet challenging combat obstacle course. A short break later, he found himself searching for the rifle he was sure he had placed on a nearby table.

“Looking for this?” Firelance appeared, balancing the weapon on a hoof.

“What are you doing here? I thought I made it clear you should all remain aboard Harmony,” the Captain took his rifle from the pegasus. “Thanks.”

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Are the rumours I heard around here true? About the Paktu dude, that is.”

“I’m afraid so. You know, it’s funny … He and I were in the same classes, back when we joined the navy. He was always this arrogant prick people only tolerated because of his capabilities, but I don’t think anyone expected him to do what he did.”

“Bloody backstabber. If there is one thing I hate, it’s treachery, especially if it’s treason. Dunno what I would do if I found out somepony went against the Princesses like that, but I’m sure it would involve a broken beer bottle lodged in the offender’s flank.”

“Heh,” Soban let out a weak chuckle at the mental image. “Three-dimensional cutie marks. There’s an interesting concept.”

“That, it is,” the pegasus joined in with a chuckle of his own. “Now, you mind explaining what it is you’ve been doing for the past three or four hours?”

“Have I been here that long?”

Firelance nodded.

Soban shrugged. “Time flies when you’re having fun, I guess.” After a long pause, he added. “Look, I have to apologise for my unusual behaviour recently. I just—I just needed some time to process everything. I’m not exactly short-fused when it comes to my temper, but after what I found out ? I think you can understand why I just wanted to be alone for a while.”

“Well if that look on your face after finishing with those Raider folks is any indication of the wrath that would follow, I’d certainly want to steer clear of you for a while as well! Oh, hey, what ever happened to those Raiders, anyway?”

“Airlocked.”

“Damn, dude. You don’t mess around.”

“The galaxy is about to be wiped out, and my people are killing each other in petty power struggles. Can’t afford to mess around. And I sure won’t be messing around with Paktu once I get my hands on him.”

“Careful now. I may not know much about your military, but I don’t think you’ll be able to just go and buck him up. Doesn’t he have a large fleet with him, or something?”

“To quote a famous Hiigaran: ‘You cannot consider your spirits yet tested if you accept only those battles where victory is certain’. Whether by our guns or my hands, in the name of Karan and Hiigara, I will have retribution.”

“Hyperspace successful. Stand by for launch, Harmony,” Nabaal reported.

…

“Couplings disengaged. Trajectory is good.”

“Harmony is away. Thanks, Nabaal,” Soban replied.

“We will begin the cloak generator calibrations in a few minutes. My boys will handle everything. Just hold position abeam our vessel, and everything should go smoothly. You should have that destroyer built by the time our calibrations are done, as well.”

“I’ll be sure to get a crew ready. Soban out.” Within moments of cutting communications, the sound of Luna appearing had caused the Captain to turn around. “Princess Luna,” Soban acknowledged the new arrival. “Impeccable timing as always.”

“Captain. Would you care to explain what that ship and its fleet is doing here?”

“Not here. My office.”

“I must protest, Captain! This is an Equestrian vessel. Please do not misinterpret what I am saying to be callousness, but Hiigara is merely a trading partner of ours, not an ally whom we are obliged to assist with their internal affairs. It is also rather clear you feel strongly about this, too. I cannot allow you to use our resources to fuel what may be a personal vendetta.”

“Personal? With all due respect, ma’am, the man is responsible for the assassination of Fleet Command, not to mention several high-ranking officers, and several hundred others.”

“I understand you feel you are bound by duty, but I cannot and will not agree to placing the lives of my subjects in harm’s way, especially when they already carry that risk,” Luna grew increasingly agitated. “Do you—do you have any idea of the concern that lingers in my mind every day? Every day when my subjects, the best and brightest, no less, are out there in the unknown, and well out of my protective reach? In the short time Harmony has been in service, it has already been through two major battles, and you expect me to give you my blessing for a third? One which by your own admission, is expected to be against a fleet at least four times the size of our own?”

“You underestimate your own subjects, Princess. Are you aware how outnumbered we were in Kadesh? The abilities of a single pony were enough to protect us.”

“As I recall, Harmony was in a pretty serious state when you returned.”

“Forget the damage, ma’am! One pony was able to protect us long enough. We may not have an entire crew that can do the same thing, but look at everypony, and see how well they perform their tasks. Five Hiigaran engineers can’t compete against a single Equestrian one. Fast, effective, efficient. The three words I would describe my crew.”

“You’re dodging the issue, Captain.”

“I’m getting to it. Your concern is that our fleet will be put in harm’s way, correct? That another battle will break out, and we might not return from it? I understand that concern. It’s the same concern I have had for every crew member under my command, even well before you and I met. There is a reason why I have never lost a member of my crew throughout my career. So if you’ll permit me to bring up the galactic map …

These blue dots represent every single Hiigaran vessel and installation. I’m actually breaking several major regulations by showing this to you, but to hell with them. We have bigger problems. Now, we are located here”—Soban placed a finger on one of the three arms of the galaxy—“and Paktu’s fleet is here,” he continued, dragging his finger to another arm on the opposite side of the map. “As you can see, he is currently with his entire fleet, but he is a creature of habit. Every twelve standard days, his fleet splits up to patrol the outer Hiigaran territories. With this new cloak generator, we can intercept him at one of his usual waypoints, and slip in undetected. If we’re compromised, Shining Armour can protect us until we retreat.”

“And what do you plan to do once you ‘slip in’?”

“He will answer for his crimes. Princess, you have to understand this is for the greater good. For both our people. With him in power, forget about any relation between us. With him dealing with the Turanic Raiders, you’ll want to keep a vigilant eye on the night skies. With him—”

“I see your point, Captain,” the Princess heaved a heavy sigh. “Very well. It is with great reluctance that I allow you to pursue this criminal. Heed my words, though. As I have said to you once, I will hold you responsible for the fate of my subjects.”

“Understood. Now, I still haven’t forgotten your request for easier crew transportation from before. I’ve requested a transport vessel to be built from the Shipyard, small enough to dock in our construction bay. If you’ll head to the shipyard, you can outline any details for a landing zone on the planet, for when the vessel is built. There will of course be a delay, as a destroyer and carrier will be built first, followed by the remainder of the hyperspace inhibitors for your defence grid, but once the carrier is ready, the workload will be split between the two, so it shouldn’t take more than a few days.”

“I shall have to discuss a landing zone with my sister first. In the meantime, I wish to speak with Twilight Sparkle in private.”

“Sure. You’ll find her in the research lab. Deck five, section forty-three. Do you need directions?”

“I think I can figure it out on my own, thank you.”

“Alright. If you need me, you know where to find me,” Soban made to get up. “Ahh—Oh, right! Forgot to ask you one other thing. Do you have eighty new crew members to transfer to our third destroyer? It’s currently under construction on the shipyard.”

“We have more than enough crew trained now to properly rotate everypony in the current fleet. I think most of them are on standby, so they would be ready to go in two hours, if need be.”

“That won’t be necessary. Try to bring them aboard in fifteen hours. The destroyer should be done shortly after, and the fleet leaves for Paktu in seventeen.”

“As you wish. Now if you’ll excuse me …”

“Well, as far as I can tell, everything appears to be calibrated right down to the picometre, and all subsequent testing indicates the device is working as it should. Beyond expectations, actually,” Nabaal reported with pride. “Given the immense power available from your conventional systems and five cores … in theory, you can run the cloak generator indefinitely.”

“In theory?” Soban raised an eyebrow at the viewscreen.

“Well I haven’t taken into account the immense heat created as a by-product of the generator. On any other vessel, the generator would shut down from depleted power reserves long before the heat reaches dangerous levels, which is why a more sophisticated cooling system was never designed. I suppose you could increase cooling output beyond what it was designed for, but I cannot guarantee reliability past one-hundred and twenty percent. I’d estimate fifty minutes before having to shut it down. Forty-five, just to be safe.”

“That might not be enough time for what I had in mind. Anything else we could do to extend that?”

“Well, short of me designing, building, and testing a larger cooling system, you could reduce the coverage area, so the generator uses less power. Bring it down to a one kilometre radius, and you should get another twenty minutes. You’d need to keep a tight fleet formation, though. If you must, you could force large quantities of cabin air through the generator. Problem is, that heat won’t be contained, so you would be facing a ship-wide heating. Given the size of your ship, and the amount of air you would have to force through the generator, you’d probably get no more than ten extra minutes, before conditions become uncomfortable.”

“That should help. Thanks, Elohim.”

“My pleasure, Mel. Especially if my creation helps you to take down that bastard! Now go. And don’t forget my frigates.”

“Not going just yet. They’re still finalising everything aboard the Phoenix.”

“We’re pretty much ready when you are, sir,” destroyer Phoenix’s Captain reported. “Twenty-six torpedo tubes good to go!”

“Very well,” Captain Soban paused to identify Nabaal’s frigates. Huh … Elohim likes his Taiidani references in ship naming. “All ships, fall in. Timberwolf, abeam port side. Ursa Major, starboard. Phoenix, dorsal position. Torpedo frigates Cor and Jasah, ventral position. Flak frigate Arth’an Saari and ion frigate Kapella, take up dorsal and ventral positions with Phoenix. Maintain a tight formation, and remain within the cloak generator’s area of effect at all times. Coordinates set for the Hiigaran-Vaygr border at Tandall Gate.”

Author's Note

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9R0zKvRBhs0

15: Confrontation

“Patrol Echelon-four, maintain heading two-five-seven mark one-niner-one and await new orders.”

“Understood, Liir. No Vaygr forces detected thus far.”

“Stay alert. I’m sure they would love another round against us.”

“I think it worked,” Zenith commented on the radio chatter. “I don’t think they detected our arrival.”

“Good,” Soban nodded to himself. “What are we dealing with, then?”

“One moment.” Zenith mumbled the list of detected contacts, as her hoof trailed down one of her screens. “Sensors detect five squadrons of interceptors on diverging vectors. Comms suggest they are patrolling the area. The rest of their fleet is concentrated on a position fourteen kilometres from us. At our current speed, we should intercept them in about six minutes, assuming they remain stationary.”

“That’s a massive fleet,” Shining Armour commented, squinting at the barely visible cluster of ships on the main display. “Any idea what it’s comprised of?”

Zenith zoomed in on the distant fleet. “A lot of ships with a lot of guns. The centre-most vessel is our objective, the battlecruiser Liir. There are carriers to either side, but I can’t tell what they are carrying. Each of the three vessels have a destroyer above and below, all outfitted with four dual-ion-cannon turrets. A line of five torpedo frigates cover the aft of each carrier, and six flak frigates cover the battlecruiser’s fore and aft.”

Captain Soban turned to Shining Armour. “So … Think you can hold off fifty-two ion-beams, and a large torpedo salvo?”

“Very funny,” Shining rolled his eyes, freezing shortly after. “But in case you were serious, no way,” he quickly added.

“Relax, I wasn’t.”

“There’s more, sir,” Zenith interrupted. “There appear to be several proximity detectors surrounding the enemy fleet, and mines litter the area. If we get near either of them, our position will be given away.”

“The mines won’t be a major worry. Their homing systems aren’t tuned to Hiigaran power signatures for obvious reasons, so we just have to avoid coming into contact with them. The proximity detectors, though? Zenith, I’ll need you to find gaps in their coverage, and then plot a course through the minefield.”

“Understood.”

Shining Armour raised an eyebrow. “What makes you so sure there will be a gap in coverage?”

“Nothing. I’m just hoping there is. Otherwise, things will get complicated. We could work around that problem, but I’d rather not. Time is already against us.”

“Well, I have good news and bad news,” Zenith looked up from her console. “Looks like there are several gaps, so we have plenty of options. Problem is, it will be a tight fit on all possible routes. Our ships will have to stick close if we want to have any chance of passing through the minefield in one piece.”

“I half-expected that. Alright, lay in vectors for the quickest route, then relay all relevant navigational data to the others. While you’re at it, tell them if I can’t see through their windows from here, they’re not sticking close enough to us.”

“Thirty seconds until we enter the minefield, sir. The rest of our fleet has reported in, and are ready to make adjustments to their position relative to us.”

“This would be much easier if we could have just made a short-jump into the right position,” Soban grumbled.

“Why we can’t do that, anyway?” Shining stared at the approaching wall of tiny triangular mines.

“An unintended side effect of mines is that they move around when something travels through them via hyperspace. The ship is unharmed, but the subtle motion of the mines can give away its position to anyone skilled enough to notice.”

“Hopefully our method will work. Here we go, entering the minefield,” Zenith’s voice quivered ever so slightly. “Tracking four potentially problematic mines.”

“There’s a mine in Ursa Major’s path, Zenith,” the Captain pointed.

“I see it. Rolling twenty degrees about the longitudinal axis.”

…

“Ursa Major has cleared the mine. Setting course for the next waypoint,” Zenith’s hooves worked in a blur. “Tracking nine mines nearby.”

“Set drives to one-third. Don’t want to rush this one.”

“Reducing to one-third,” Zenith confirmed the order. “Hmm. Cor and Jasah might get a little too close to that mine underneath us. Rolling five degrees.”

“No, roll negative ten,” Soban raised a hand. “Otherwise Timberwolf might get too close to that one over there.”

“Rolling negative ten. Closest mine to any ship is currently at sixty-two metres from Jasah … forty-five metres … thirty-five metres … thirty metres … I think—yes, Jasah has passed the mine. Adjusting heading for waypoint three.”

“One more waypoint after this one. Alright I’m counting thirtee—no, make that fourteen mines nearby. Confirm, Zenith.”

“Sixteen, actually. This one is going to be tricky, though. Initial roll of forty degrees planned.”

“Sounds good to me. Reduce drives to ahead slow, while you’re at it.”

“Fleet is rolling, and drives at ahead slow. Nearest mine to a ship is currently forty-nine metres from Timberwolf. Once cleared, we need to make a sharp ninety-four-degree to starboard to avoid additional mines, and then exactly one-hundred-degrees to port to line up with the Proximity Detector gap. Twenty metres from Timberwolf … ten … eight …”

“Grit your teeth, guys,” Soban muttered for the destroyer’s crew.

“… six … I think maybe—dear Celestia, five metres!” Zenith began sweating profusely. “Four metres …”

Time itself seemed to slow to a crawl, with every member of the bridge holding their breath as they all stared at Zenith, anxiously awaiting the next readout.

“Five metres!” she announced, with a collective exhale of relief following from the crew. “Whew, they cleared it. Adjusting heading.”

“Who in the hay was responsible for that?” Timberwolf’s Captain yelled over the comms. “Ensign Snowflake just made a mess of himself over here!”

“It’s alright, guys,” Soban apologised. “I think that was the worst of—ALL STOP, ALL STOP!”

The densely packed fleet collectively groaned to a halt, just in time for the Captain of Ursa Major to turn and halt directly in front of a mine.

“How could you miss that one, Zenith?” Soban hissed.

“I—I’m so sorry,” Zenith stammered, her ears falling flat. “I was concentrating on at—at least five other mines, and—”

“Save it. No harm done, I suppose,” he relaxed. “Roll us negative ten degrees, set drives to ahead one-third, and make our final heading adjustment. The proximity detector gap will be easy enough to slip past, so it’s smooth sailing from here on out.”

“One kilometre to battlecruiser Liir, sir.”

“Understood,” Soban slowly rose from his seat. “Then it’s time. Midnight, you are in command. I trust I don’t have to repeat any of the contingency plans?”

“Know them off by heart, Captain,” Midnight nodded, frowning. “Not that I feel comfortable with some of them.”

“We know what we are getting ourselves into, so if it comes down to any of the more unpleasant plans, I expect you to follow them. The safety of—”

“… This fleet and its crew are our top priority. I know. It’s just that it conflicts with what we were taught about leaving—”

“I know. Best not to think about it, though. Just get our fleet into position as close as you can underneath Liir. Zenith, let’s go. The others are already waiting for us.”

“Perhaps I’m missing something here”—Zenith trotted alongside the jogging Captain—“but wouldn’t it look rather suspicious if we park ourselves underneath Liir?”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Well, we’re cloaked, so our visibility is no issue, but doesn’t this mean our cloak generator would turn the enemy ships invisible as well? I mean, it would seem rather odd if your ships started disappearing for no reason, right?”

“Oh, that? No, the generator works by targeting specified ships. It doesn’t create a sphere of invisibility, even if we do call it a ‘field’. That would be a waste of power. It simply directs an overlapping energy stream at our ships, and nothing else. The power required to operate the device is high enough as it is. Imagine if it worked that inefficiently. Speaking of which, I should check how much time the generator has left …”

“Forty-two minutes,” Rarity’s voice followed the pair through each speaker they passed. “At present, the temperature in and around the generator would be considered quite comfortable in a sauna environment.”

“I can really get used to that omnipresence,” Soban chuckled. “Thanks, Rarity.”

“Speak for yourself,” Zenith made a barely audible snort of annoyance. “It’s creepy enough as it is, knowing somepony is watching everything you do, every second of the day, but having five, soon to be six? I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t bothered by that.”

“I hope you don’t consider me to be some sort of peeping Tom,” Rarity’s tone hinted a mild tone of shock and disgust.

“Oh, no offence, Rarity,” Zenith hastily replied. “I’m sure you don’t, but still. It’s just … knowing that somepony could be watching me at any moment for any reason, if they so wished? The thought alone makes me uncomfortable.”

“Trust me,” Rainbow’s voice cut in. “What you do in your quarters is not considered exciting enough for me to keep a watchful eye on.”

Rarity hummed. “Captain Soban, Miss Zenith, if you’ll excuse me, Rainbow Dash and I must excuse ourselves for a lengthy discussion.”

Silence fell throughout the corridors leading to the armoury. As Soban approached the two figures waiting outside, he commented, “That little chat ought to be interesting. Will have to make a mental note to listen to the aftermath.” Arriving at the armoury, he shifted focus to the nearby pegasi, giving the pair a nod. “Hey ‘Lance. Nova. Where are the others?”

“We came a little late, but Joe, Corona, and Gail are geared up and ready to go. They’re waiting in the hangar”—Nova tilted his head towards the hangar’s direction, before furrowing his brow—“but I’m a little confused. Remind me why you need a pair of pegasi.”

“You weren’t briefed? Well the plan will be to move silently through Liir. Here, see these batons? We don’t normally use these, but they are designed to deliver a small concussive shockwave that incapacitates victims for several hours. Since pegasi are fast and make less noise in flight than a unicorn does with that glowing magic field thing, you and Firelance will be taking out lone targets that get in our way. Understood?”

“Got it!” Nova and Firelance nodded in unison.

“Good. Now Corona will teleport us onto Liir, but she can’t go very far, and I don’t want to drag Twilight aboard for this, so I’ll pilot a pulsar gunship corvette, latch onto a suitable place on Liir’s hull, and then we all emerge on the inner side of its hull, hopefully in a deserted area.”

“Hopefully?” Zenith’s face hinted some concern.

“Sorry, I should say ‘definitely’. This close to Liir, we can breach their wireless network and tap into some visual feeds. Give their security some false imagery, too. We’ll have our core mares acting as our eyes. Once aboard, Corona, Gail and I will be the main force of our group, once we go loud with our pulsar rifles. Joe will be on demolitions again, so he will clear out rooms, and provide support with stun and smoke grenades. That leaves you two. These batons won’t be useful once we’re discovered, so stock up on demolitions as well, and protect Zenith. She will be extracting data from Liir’s data banks, and will be vulnerable. Now, any questions? Then let’s move. That cloak generator won’t last forever.”

“Pre-start checks,” the Captain went through a mental checklist hurriedly. “External hatches, closed, latched, and locked. Harnesses, secure. Master switch, on. Lights and beacon, on. Comms, on. Harmony, Whirlwind one requesting radio check.”

“Whirlwind one, readability five over five.”

“Acknowledged. Engine start in three … two … one …”

A small puff of engine exhaust shot out from the three small engines to either side of the corvette, as the vessel’s start-up whine grew in pitch, and transitioned to the low grumble of an idle engine. Aboard, Soban continued his checks with haste.

“After-start checks … Gyroscopes, functional. Instruments, functional and adjusted. Pressurisation, functional and in the green. Manoeuvring thrusters, functional. Skipping weapons checks. No warnings, no cautions. Hangar control, Whirlwind one requesting coupling release for immediate departure.”

“Whirlwind one, couplings disengaged. Cleared for port-side departure. Good luck.”

“I’ll have to admit, it’s been a long while since I piloted one of these, but you don’t really forget how to fly one of these,” Soban commented, while travelling down the long, narrow hall of Harmony’s hangar.

“I could swear these corvettes look much bigger from the outside,” Corona grunted, wedged in a corner and sandwiched between the weapons console, and a doughnut-loving pony strapped with enough explosives to take down an entire line of frigates.

“A corvette isn’t exactly meant to hold seven occupants,” Soban replied, turning his vessel towards Harmony’s port exit and flying clear of it. “A pilot, gunner, and combat engineer are all they were designed for, so unless you want to make yourselves comfortable in the crawlspace the engineers would use for internal repairs, I’d just hold tight for a few minutes.”

“At least ‘Lance is enjoying himself over there,” Nova muttered to himself with a snicker.

“What? You say something?” Firelance squirmed in a hopeless attempt to avoid crushing Zenith. “Dammit, move over, Nova! I can hardly move!”

“I can hardly breathe!” Zenith scowled.

“Quit your complaining, we’re almost there,” Soban called back behind him. “I’m told this section of Liir is empty, so it’s just a matter of setting her down, nice and easy on the hull, and then we’ll be out of here. Setting final course … Fifteen metres … ten … six … three … one … half … quarter … aaaaand …”

…

“Not bad. Completely silent landing. Still got it,” Soban praised himself. “Okay Corona, the corvette is anchored. Let’s go.”

Corona’s horn lit up, and the squad disappeared in a flash of orange. Aboard Liir, a darkened compartment was briefly illuminated by the groups’ arrival.

“Area secure,” Gail whispered, flipping down her night-vision goggles. “Where are we?”

Through their enhanced vision, the small boarding party could make out what appeared to be a small warehouse of shelving, containing assorted spare parts for countless ship components.

“Secondary engineering storage facility,” Soban whispered back. “Close to the auxiliary power plant, which would have too many crew to slip by. We should be able to get around it, via the maintenance walkways.”

“How many are near the power plant?” Joe inquired.

“Not sure. Why?”

Joe bounced a remote charge in his hoof. “Might be a good idea to have some sort of distraction.”

Soban drummed on his rifle with his fingers, as he considered the idea. “Very well. We have to be quick, though. Even quicker if someone sees us, though by that point, we would probably end up facing the entire crew. Let’s try to avoid that.”

Room by room, the team moved silently through the darkened and lesser-travelled areas of the battlecruiser, at times ducking behind random objects when the footsteps of the occasional crew member approached. After creeping along several corridors, the team found themselves outside the auxiliary power plant, while Soban observed the behaviour and patterns of six crew members with a snake camera.

“This might be easier than I thought,” Soban handed the camera to the rest of his team. “The big sphere in the centre of the room is the outer casing for the power plant. Two of the crewmen are working inside it, just where that large hatch is open. See their legs sticking out? That other guy on the other side of the room is busy monitoring something at his station. The one beside him looks like he is about to doze off, and the other two nearby are playing card games.”

“Sweet,” Firelance whirled his baton. “Nova takes two, I take two, and the two in the sphere thing won’t even hear us, so we leave them ‘till last.”

“Bad idea,” Soban shook his head. “What if someone tries to contact this section and gets no reply? Someone will investigate, and conclude they were attacked. The entire ship goes on alert. No, we just need either you or Nova to take out the two inside the power plant. The other four won’t see it, and the markings caused by a baton shock will look like the first two had an electrical accident. At least, until a medic examines them. Should be enough time.”

“I’ll do it,” Firelance raised a hoof. “Pass me one of those explosives, Joe.”

“One sec,” Joe fiddled with the malleable explosive paste. “Gotta put the detonator … there we go. Here. Make sure you hide it well.”

“In and out in ten seconds,” Firelance whispered to himself, propelling himself into the air and leaving behind a single feather. Soban heard a faint ‘FZZT’, closely followed by another, and a moment later, a panting Firelance returned. “Done.”

“Good work. Now let’s get going. This way to the maintenance walkways …”

“You’re nearing the data storage section,” Rainbow Dash continued guiding the party of seven through the maze of walkways. “Take a left at the next junction. You’re gonna wanna watch out, though. Thirteen guys are in there.”

“Thirteen? Not ideal. Alright, we’ll check it out, Rainbow. Maintain radio silence until I contact you again. Soban out.”

“Trouble, sir?” Zenith watched the Captain.

“Probably. The room we are supposed to be in has too many people in it. I doubt we will be able to slip in and out, so we’re going to have to take them all out.” Soban set up the snake camera around the corner of the data room. “Let me take a look around.”

The dimly lit room consisted of an almost bewildering display of multicoloured lights from a sizeable array of servers and storage devices. Littered across the room were several technicians performing maintenance on some of the thousands of servers stacked neatly above each other in columns well over five metres, and surrounding giant blocks of storage devices. To either side of the room, several other crewmen continued monitoring systems, or chatted and laughed amongst themselves.

Soban withdrew the camera. “Alright, we can’t use explosives or our rifles, since both of those will be detected on the bridge, so Nova and Firelance will have to go in and take these guys out. Everypony else wait here, until—”

“Wait, you expect the two of us to take out thirteen of them? Dude, you’re giving us a little more credit than we’re worth.”

“If you had waited until I was finished,” Soban shot a look over at Firelance. “I was going to say that I will join you. First, we take out those six who are monitoring the systems. We should be silent enough to do so, without alerting the others. Once the first six are down, we move on, neutralise the others, then bring the rest of our group in to extract the data. You two ready? We take two crew each. Get into position there and there, and watch for my signal. Understood? Move.”

Leaving the others behind, Soban, Nova and Firelance split off and went in different directions, creeping through the maze of servers and hiding in the shadows of the already dark room. Within minutes, the trio arrived within striking distance behind a pair of crewmen each, and the two pegasi stared intently at the Captain, who raised a clenched fist above his head. Extending three fingers, he began a countdown. Three … two … one …

At once, the three leaped up. In one swift move, Soban grabbed the heads of the crewmen in front of him, and struck them against each other multiple times with sickening cracks, letting them fall off their seats into a pile on top of each other on the floor. By the time the Captain looked up, he had already heard the muffled ‘FZZT’ of the batons, and in the place of the four crewmen, sat a pair of pegasi. Nodding to each other, they gathered beside a storage device.

“Okay, seven more left. They should be alone, so strike and move on. Go.”

With haste, Nova and Firelance took off in different directions, while Soban stood up, and walked at a leisurely pace towards his next victim. As he walked, he listened for each strike made by the others.

*FZZT*

One technician down.

*FZZT*

And another. Soban was in arm’s reach of his target, who had either been too busy, or did not care to look up from the hardware he had been installing. With a single strike, the technician fell to the floor, leaving an imprint of his face on the faceplate of a server.

*FZ—FZZT*

Another two down. Soban turned a corner, about to approach another, when Firelance soared out from another corner, and knocked out the technician, landing nearby.

“Good one, ‘Lance. Where’s Nova?”

“On the other side of this row. He went to get the last—”

“What th—”

“GAAH!”

*CLANG*

“Firelance, left side. Go!”

Soban and Firelance sprinted in opposite directions and turned towards the row of servers where Nova was pinned below the final crewman, who delivered repeated blows to his face. Firelance reached them first, and a moment later, the crewman tensed up and slumped over, leaving Soban to pull the unconscious technician off Nova.

“Yo, Nova? You alright there?” Firelance helped his friend up.

Nova sniffed, feeling a trickle of blood run out a nostril. “Yeah I’m fine. Gonna leave a mark in the morning, though. Kinda like that time you and I were guarding that bank a few years back. Remember that night?”

“Haha, oh yes. That unicorn smacked you across the face pretty well with that tree branch, didn’t he? Squealed like a filly when we tackled him, though,” Firelance stifled his laughter.

“Enough chatter, you two,” the Captain interrupted. “Nova, are you sure you’re fine? It looked like you got a pretty nasty hit to the eye there.”

“It’s fine. I’m seeing weird colours in it, but it’s going away. Anyway, I think the area is secure now.”

“Right, let’s get the others in here.”

“You’re looking in the wrong place, Zenith,” Soban selected the appropriate directories from Zenith’s terminal. “These two storage devices contain the data we need. That one there is audio and visual data, and this one here records tactical information.”

“That’s a lot of data to go through. We could be here for hours!”

Soban waved his hand dismissively. “A lot of these are just backups. There are at least eight backups, so it’s really not that many to search. Look through the tactical data for anything suggestive of Paktu’s betrayal, match it to the audio, then take a physical copy of everything from today, up to a month before the earliest suggestive entry.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Corona, assist zenith. The rest of you, cover the exits. Rainbow, you still here?”

“Never left ya. What’s up?”

“Keep an eye out for anyone that may approach this room.”

“Sure thing.”

PLAYBACK RESUME
BRIDGE, AUDIO, INTERNAL
Team five, it will be up to you to ensure all corridors from the hangar to the storage facility are clear of Nabaali personnel. You will work with team six, who will monitor everything remotely and erase any relevant security footage.

BRIEFING ROOM 3, AUDIO, INTERNAL
I’m still concerned about pulling this off. The route you have chosen for us seems fine, but how do we get that device aboard, once we bring it to the shipyard’s construction bay? Surely someone will notice, no?

BRIDGE, AUDIO, INTERNAL
Team four will be keeping the crew in that area busy and occupied on the front end. Just bring the device around to the aft section. Team seven will handle it from there. The modified footage should remain on loop long enough for us to be well away from the Shipyard, and long enough for many other vessels to have docked. Hurry up and get ready. We are exiting hyperspace.

QUANTUM WAVEFORM FUNCTION F4E25 INITIATED
HYPERSPACE MODULE DISCHARGE INITIATED
HYPERSPACE EXIT COMPLETE
HYPERSPACE MODULE RECHARGE INITIATED

2 UNREAD CAUTION REPORTS

BRIDGE, AUDIO
Shipyard Nabaal, battlecruiser Liir requesting docking clearance for scheduled maintenance.

TRANSMISSION, AUDIO
Clearance granted, Liir. Make it quick. You’re late as it is, and we have more than enough vessels booked for tuneups and overhauls.

BRIDGE, AUDIO
Yes, yes, you’re not the only one who is busy, Nabaal.

PLAYBACK TERMINATED

“This is the earliest record I have found so far, sir,” Zenith looked up at the Captain. “Not sure if it is related, but it sure sounds like it.”

Soban checked the date of the recording. “This must be a recording from the day they stole Nabaal’s new hyperspace inhibitor. It will do. Get as much data as you can from this point onwards”

Soban informed the others while Zenith finished extracting the necessary data onto a large, portable device. Upon completion, the team exited the data room, and resumed their journey.

“Rainbow, can you locate Captain Paktu?”

“Gimme a sec … Yeah, I’m guessing he’s the guy who has the most stars on his uniform, right? He’s in a briefing room a few decks above you, near the bridge. Looks like briefing room number—”

“Four. I know the one. How many in the room?”

“Five others, but they are starting to leave. Looks like Paktu is staying.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah. Dunno what he’s doing, though. I say just get there quickly, before he decides to leave as well.”

“Agreed.”

“Just take a detour first. Some crew are walking around near your location. Take a right at the next corridor and wait for them to pass.”

“Almost there. Just one guy hanging out near the briefing room. Should be easy enough to take care of. Just don’t mess this one up. There’s a heap of crew in the surrounding sections.”

“We got this, Rainbow. Nova, take him out.”

*FZZT*

“Rainbow, can you tell me where in the room Paktu is located?” Soban stepped over the twitching body of Nova’s victim.

“He’s sitting at the far end with his back turned towards the door. Just reading some old book.”

“Thanks. Alright team, this is it. Firelance, you’re with me. Joe, you and Nova place charges over there, there, and there. Once done, I want you two to group with Zenith, Corona, and Gail. Corona, shield the group and hold this position until I am finished. If something happens to me in there, Rainbow will guide you out via comms. Understood?”

After the brief exchange of nods, the group hunkered down, leaving Soban and Firelance to silently slip into the briefing room. The blue-tinted lighting proved more than enough to illuminate the back of a balding head that peeked over the chair at the end of the room. Soban made a gesture to Firelance, and the pair split up, moving up along either side of the long, empty table. Having arrived within a few metres of the rogue Captain, Soban raised his rifle.

“Hands up,” Soban ordered calmly, the soft, high-pitched charging sound of the pulsar rifle following his voice. “Turn around, and rise. Slowly.”

“Captain Soban. I was wondering how long it would take you to get here. I have to admit, I am quite impressed at how quickly you were able to find me aboard my own vessel.”

“I have my methods.”

“Clearly. You show up here, force your way through the decks, and find me with ease. I’d have to be blind to not see you must have had some help from somewhere. Luckily, I’m not blind, and neither are my crew,” he held up a blue feather.

“Huh. I thought it felt like a piece of me was missing back there,” Firelance examined his left wing, where one of his smaller flight feathers was missing.

“Hey, Cap’, I’m seeing movement. Lots of it,” Rainbow Dash began. “They’re heading straight for you guys.”

Soban did not reply. Tightening his grip on the rifle, his eyes remained glued to Captain Paktu. “I suppose by now you know why we are here, and how this has to end. Just tell me why.”

“I’d be lying if I said the position of absolute power did not interest me, but that is merely a bonus,” Paktu chuckled lightly. “A side effect, if you will, of what’s to come.”

From outside, the muffled yells and exchange of weapons fire had started up. A small explosion shook the room slightly, as one of Soban’s squadmates detonated a charge.

“Keep talking,” Soban took a step closer. “What will come?”

“What do you think? The End Times, of course. Sajuuk will return to purge the galaxy of the unworthy, but He will accept us as his brothers, upon the reunification of the Six. Don’t you see? I will save all Hiigarans who wish to follow me, and a new era will begin!”

“Enough! Your religious raving is almost as bad as the texts I’ve read from Kiith Gaalsien!”

Captain Paktu merely smirked as Soban to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

“That—that’s not possible. You can’t be—That entire Kiith died on Kharak! None were permitted aboard the Mothership!”

“None anyone was aware of. Sajuuk had punished the Hiigarans by placing them on Kharak, but it was also Sajuuk’s will to preserve His true follo—.”

“Yes, I’ve read this drivel before,” Soban cut in, rolling his eyes. “Our people ‘appeared’ on Kharak as ‘punishment’, despite historical records stating our defeat against the Taiidan in the pre-exile era as the cause. What’s that other load of nonsense? Leaving Kharak was an act of defiance against Sajuuk, and so Kharak was burned? Even though, again, the Taiidan were the cause, because we broke a two-thousand year old treaty we were never aware of. So—so who exactly are you meant to be, then? The one who welcomes the Progenitors back?”

“In a manner of speaking. Those who wish to be saved would join me as I offer the cores to Sajuuk upon his return at Khorsabad.”

“Khor— … Oh, right, so I suppose you know where that is, as well?”

“Of course! The book of Gaalsien has all the answers.”

Soban’s eyes shifted to the large black and silver book on the table. “Give me. That book. Now.”

The briefing room door burst open, as Soban’s team rushed inside. Corona maintained her shield as a barricade on the door, while the others made way for Nova, who dragged in the unmoving figure of …

“Zenith!” Firelance dropped his weapon, and rushed to the others.

Fearing the worst, Soban turned in the direction of his team. Captain Paktu used the distraction to his advantage, and lunged at Soban, sending the pair onto the ground, and the rifle sliding underneath the table.

Paktu drew his fist back, and hammered it into Soban’s face. He drew it back once more, and pressed his forearm against Soban’s neck, bringing his fist back down again.

Soban pushed Paktu’s rapidly descending fist off-course, and shot the palm of his other hand straight upward onto Paktu’s nose. An audible crack followed, and Soban rolled him off.

The Captains scrambled to their feet and continued their brawl, swinging, blocking, kicking and parrying one another, as Gail and Nova flew over as fast as they could to assist.

As they arrived, Paktu delivered a winding blow to Soban, and kneed him in the forehead as he bent down. Though he missed his intended target, Paktu still gained the upper hand, as the two fell once again to the ground, with Soban held in a blood choke.

Paktu turned himself towards Nova and Gail, who had her rifle raised. “Drop your weapons and surrender!” He shouted, using Soban as a shield, while backing himself into a corner.

“Take … the … shot!” Soban strained, rapidly losing his strength, his vision slowly fading.

“The only way out is through that door, and you have no chance against all of them,” Paktu continued. “I repeat, surrender!”

“I don’t have a clear shot!” Gail yelled back, ignoring Paktu.

“I’ll take … the risk! Shoot!”

“Drop your weapons!”

“SHOOT!”

*FWOOM*

“… Come on, Captain, I know you can hear me. Get up,” Nova shook Soban. “We’re running out of time. They’re getting through! Captain!”

“Move, laddie,” Gail pushed Nova away. “Forgive me for this, sir …” she lowered a talon onto a large wound on Soban’s right shoulder and neck.

“GAAAH! OH, FFFUUU—”

“Oh thank Celestia,” Nova breathed a sigh of relief. “Let’s go, Captain!”

“What—what’s going on?”

“Later,” Nova held out a hoof. “Can you stand? Good, Corona needs to speak with you immediately. She can’t hold the shield much longer.”

Soban stumbled across the briefing room towards the door, where Corona had her eyes fixated on the slowly diminishing wall of magic. Through it, signs of damage were clearly visible, from brute-force attempts by those on the other side to get through.

“Corona?”

“What a relief. I was about to take us out blindly,” Corona maintained her focus on her shield. “I’ve lost the comms link to Harmony. I’m guessing Liir’s crew are jamming us. We have bigger problems, though. Zenith is in a serious condition, and we need to get her out of here right now. Do you know where we can teleport without getting stuck in a ceiling or wall?”

“Take us to the deck below,” Soban ordered. “There’s a briefing room underneath us, identical to this one.”

“Excellent. Everypony, to me! We are leaving right now!”

“Wait. Gail. That book.”

“You mean this one?” she lifted the old book from one of her side-bags.

“Good. Corona, never mind. Let’s go.”

The team flashed out of the room, causing the shield to dissipate, as several of Liir’s crew flooded into the room to locate the trespassers. A deck below, several of Soban’s team paused to catch their breaths.

“Corona, you and Gail check outside for anyone and secure the area,” Soban ordered, making his way to the unconscious Zenith. He turned to Joe, who had been carrying her. “What happened?”

“Enemy pulsar round got past Corona’s shield. Deep wound near her cutie mark. I think she hit her head against the wall in the process, so that’s probably a concussion, too. She’s stable for now, but I’m worried it might have been close to her femoral artery. The pulsar cauterised everything, but if we move her, it might cause a tear. She could bleed out in minutes.”

“We have no choice. Nova and Firelance can carry her.”

“What about you? That looks nasty.” Joe stated, as he began examining Soban’s wound.

“I’ll be fine,” the Captain shrugged Joe off. “Let’s go before they figure out where we’ve disappeared.”

*FWOOM*

Streaks of electric-blue flashed down corridors, tearing down the light resistance that remained between Soban’s team, and their point of insertion.

*FWOOM*

Soban shouted over the lightning storm of pulsar rounds, “This would probably be a good time to—”

*FWOOM*

“—get ready with that distraction, Joe!”

“Now? As in, now now?”

“Yes!”

A roaring explosion filled the air and set off a multitude of alarms, as the volatile auxiliary power plant tore a large hole in the ship’s underbelly and caused the aggressors at the far end of the corridor to be sucked out, moments before that area was sealed off.

“No more reinforcements from that side of the ship. Now move!”

*FWOOM*

The remaining forces that stood in the way were dispatched quickly, allowing Soban and his team to close the final few hundred metres unimpeded. Finally, upon arriving at the exact spot where they entered, several of the team members collapsed.

“Get us out of here, Corona.”

Just as a pair of Liir’s crew followed and raised their weapons, Soban’s team disappeared. As soon as they returned to the gunship, the Captain rushed to his seat, while the others secured themselves, with Zenith held tightly prone by the pegasi.

“Harmony, Whirlwind one returning. Primary objective complete,” the Captain radioed in, rushing through his corvette’s start-up procedures. “Midnight, get the fleet moving, and have a medic ready to receive us!”

“Medic? What happen—.”

“Just shut up and do what I say!” Soban snapped. “Get ready to enter hyperspace as soon as we dock.”

“Yes, Captain. We’re cutting it close, though. I don’t think we can keep the cloak generator running for much longer.”

“Order the fleet to target as many enemy weapons systems as possible. We’ll be back aboard in eighty seconds.”

“Understood. Issuing orders …”

Within seconds, the rest of Harmony’s fleet reacted. Ursa Major and Timberwolf assumed a broadside stance, and each of their turrets faced different hostile vessels. All twenty-six torpedo tubes aboard Phoenix burst open in anticipation for their next move. The torpedo frigates Cor and Jasah followed suit with their two tubes, and the ion frigate Kapella turned to face the closest threat of all: Liir’s ventral-mounted dual-ion-cannon turret.

The green light was given, and a collective fury had been unleashed from the cloaked ships. Like fireworks, torpedoes streaked away in a starburst pattern, each with a different destination, and giant slugs of armour-piercing rounds pummelled anything that could shoot back, accompanied by ion beams.

By the time Liir’s fleet had realised what was going on, many of their hard-hitters had their abilities to fight taken away from them. Those that remained had taken to returning fire in Harmony’s general direction, hoping to land at least a few hits on the cloaked fleet.

“Captain, we’re taking some serious fire over here!” Midnight yelled, watching red-hot blurs of metal whizz past at an alarmingly close range. “Do I have your permission to reveal ourselves and bring up Shining Armour’s shield?”

“Do it. I’m a few hundred metres out, anyway,” Soban replied, turning to his passengers. “What’s her condition, Joe?”

“She’s responsible to pain”—Joe continued applying pressure on the slow, but steadily bleeding wound that had coloured Zenith’s flank in a dark crimson—“but nothing more. No serious bleeding for now. I think she’ll make it.”

“That’s a relief,” Soban faced forward once more, noting Shining’s purple shield had been brought up, with a small hole for the returning corvette to fit through. “Harmony, Whirlwind one entering hangar. Get us out of here, Midnight!”

“Yes, sir. Initiating hyperspace.”

“How is she?” the Captain stared at Zenith, who had still been under the effects of the general anaesthetic.

“Given the outstanding technology we’ve been working with, she should make a full recovery,” the surgeon commented. “She will to have to take it easy with that leg for a while, though, or the muscle regrowth will be affected. Right now, I’m more concerned about that wound of yours. Did any of the Doctors take a look at that while we were busy with her?”

“No, I was a little preoccupied.”

“Understandable. Go ahead and take a seat. I’ll get it cleaned out.”

“Thanks, Doctor … ?”

“Just call me Sawbones.”

“That … Who names their son Sawbones? No offence.”

“None taken. It’s just my nickname, anyway. I seem to have a terrible knack for getting patients who require …” he paused, twirling his hoof in thought. “Well, those who require that particular surgical instrument.”

“You’re not going to take a chunk out of my shoulder, are you?”

“No, but we may need to amputate that sense of humour of yours.”

“Really? Well, my good doctor, I’ll have you know that—”

“WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR SHOULDER?” Twilight appeared, the mixture of shock and horror apparent on her face, moments before she buried it in Soban’s uniform and commenced silently sobbing and hiccuping.

“Hey, come on, there’s no need for that, Twilight,” Soban wheezed, locked in Twilight’s brutal bear hug. “It looks worse than it really is.”

“B—but you could h—have been …”

“It’s alright. We’re all alive. That’s all that matters. Hey, Doc? We finished here?”

“Almost. Just securing the dressing, aaaaand. There. Good to go. Drop by in two days to change the dressing. Earlier, if there’s an excessive discharge, or a foul smell.”

“Much appreciated. Uhh, Twilight? You can let go of me now.”

“No.”

Eighteen hours had passed since Soban’s team returned aboard Harmony and the fleet entered hyperspace for the journey back home. Word spread quickly through Harmony’s crew of what had transpired, and despite the close calls, morale remained high. The crew aboard the frigates Nabaal had offered for Harmony’s fleet had expressed their gratitude for the efforts of Soban’s team, despite their unmistakable hints of disappointment for being unable to go into full combat against the fleet of Paktu.

Despite being awake for at least an hour, Soban remained in bed, examining the book Gail retrieved. The book of Gaalsien. The book of an ancient, fanatical Kiith, filled with riddles, vague texts, and false teachings. Yet somewhere deep within the pages littered with Paktu’s notes, lied the location of Khorsabad. It was just a matter of deciphering it all.

He ran his fingers over the cover of the book. A silver, circular symbol containing a diamond shape within it, stood out from the otherwise black, leathery cover. Satisfied with his examination, he placed the book atop the bedside table, causing the purple figure beside him to stir. Twilight looked up at Soban with unevenly opened eyes and smiled.

“Are you this clingy with your brother, Twilight? Seriously, you can let go of me.”

“My brother doesn’t get into deadly situations. Just violent ones. And very rarely. You, on the other hoof? It’s almost as if you’re trying to get yourself killed.”

“Just another day in the life of a Hiigaran soldier, I suppose.”

“You ceased to be a Hiigaran soldier when you agreed to be our Captain, Mel. I’m worried about you. All your friends are. You’re like family to us.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but if I don’t do it, someone else will. Or somepony, rather. Then they will be the ones put at risk, while I do nothing. You know I take issue to that.”

“That’s not—”

“Hey, relax. Hopefully we can set everything right soon. After that, I’m done. Would be nice to retire in Equestria.”

“Retire in …” Twilight paused momentarily, gasping in excitement shortly after. “That would be wonderful! You could live with me, until we find a house for you, that is.”

“Actually, I had intended on finding a place in Canterlot, since Firelance is there. And Nova.”

“Oh. Oh, right,” Twilight appeared crestfallen.

“I’ll visit regularly. It’s not like I’m going to just disappear. I just love the atmosphere of a city. And Ponyville isn’t that far away by train. Besides, I thought you could teleport long distances?”

“Well, yes, but my abilities over such lengths still suffer from … uhh, accuracy issues. The last time I tried teleporting to the castle grounds from Ponyville, I ended up in a salon on the other side of the city.”

“Bit of practice, and you’ll be moving through continents in no time at all. Alright, move over. Need to check this wound before I head off for breakfast. Well, I suppose it’s lunch time now. You hungry?”

“Just don’t destroy my appetite by taking that bandage off in front of me. I can’t stand the sight of blood,” Twilight shuddered.

“… Then Gail pulls the trigger, taking out Paktu. Of course, her aim is horrendous, so she shoots me in the process,” Soban made a shooting gesture at Gail with his fingers. “And that’s how I got it.”

Gail had her face buried in her talons. “Yer never goin’ to let this one down, are ya?” she groaned.

“What, the fact that you shot your commanding officer, or the fact that you need to work on your aim?”

“Oi! I didn’t shoot ya! Th’ damn pulsar just burned yer skin off, ya wuss. I may not have put a pretty little ribbon around it, but at least I got the job done.”

“Pfft, I’ll bet you twenty bits my granny has better aim than this highlander whacko!” Nova joined in on the playful teasing.

“Oh hey Nova, did ya git yer eyes checked after that nasty hit? How many talons am I holding up?” Gail raised her middle talons. “That’s right, put some water on that burn, mah boi!”

Nova and Gail continued lobbing insults at each other during the minutes that followed. Halfway through, Soban noticed Twilight writing under the table, and took a peek.

“Oh don’t mind me, I’m just writing a few notes down,” she whispered. “It’s just fascinating to see friends teasing and insulting each other, then laughing about it, even if there is some sort of seriousness to it all. This would make for an interesting friendship report.”

“Some people enjoy the ribbing. It’s like— … Friendship report?”

“I’ve never told you about them? Every time I learn something new about friendship, I make a report for Princess Celestia.”

“Only you could take one of the most subjective things in existence, and make it into a report!” Soban shook his head.

“… But it’s not like ya’d wanna mess with me, laddie. Me cousins serve on this ship in the dozens.”

“Oh that’s okay. I’ll just call in Firelance, and it’ll be an even fight. Speaking of ‘Lance, where is he? You seen him around, Mel?”

“Yeah, he’s been by Zenith’s side ever since she came out of surgery.”

“Ahh, cripe!” Gail stood up. “I should’a checked on her. How’s she doin’? Is she awake?”

“I haven’t checked up on her, myself, but she should be by now. I’m going to visit her in a few hours. I’ll be needed on the bridge first, once we exit hyperspace … Which shouldn’t be long now,” Soban paused and sighed. “I’m not looking forward to explaining this to Luna. I should get going.”

“Hyperspace successful. Welcome home, everypony,” Midnight announced.

The Captain began a countdown “Luna in three … two … one …”

*POOF*

“Ma’am,” Soban nodded at Luna. “One moment. Shipyard Nabaal, Harmony has returned, and the fleet is in one piece.”

“Is it done?” Nabaal replied simply.

“It is. Stand by, transferring data now. Take this evidence back to Hiigara. The sooner our government knows, the better.”

“What of the rest of Paktu’s fleet?”

“There were too many to engage, so we left them. I’ll leave their fates up to you. Fleet Command.”

Nabaal stammered. “I—oh that just took me by surprise. Fleet Command Nabaal …”

“It suits you.”

“Still, pretty big shoes to fill. I don’t think anything I’d ever do would truly live up to what S’jet did. Anyway, data transfer complete. Before I leave, I should also mention your hyperspace inhibitor grid is fully operational, thanks to the help of your new carrier. We also finished that transport ship you requested.”

“Thanks Elohim. Anything else you need?”

“Well if you don’t need them anymore, can I take my guys with me?”

“They’re your ships. Take them.”

“Right. Cor, Jasah, Arth’an Saari and Kapella, assume formation and prepare for hyperspace. Nabaal out.”

“That’s that, then. Apologies, Princess. Oh, and I’ll leave naming the carrier up to you.”

“I shall look into suitable names in the near future,” Luna’s voice remained neutral. “I trust your mission was a success?”

“Ahh, I’d be lying if I said we had no trouble, but yes, it was a success,” the Captain hesitated.

Luna’s gaze hardened, and her eyes narrowed. “And exactly what kind of trouble are you referring to … ?”

“Out of my way, OUT OF MY WAY!” Luna galloped into the sick bay, knocking over an IV stand, with Soban barely keeping up. “Where is she? Where is—oh my stars, are you alright, dear?”

“Princess Luna?” Firelance looked up from beside Zenith’s bed, while she remained silent.

“I came as soon as I heard,” Luna visually examined the patient. “What happened? How severe is the injury? Are you in any pain?”

Zenith smiled softly. “I’m fine, Princess. Everything is fine, thank you. The doctors said the wound was only a few centimetres from being something more serious, but I should make a speedy recovery with the drugs I’ve been receiving.”

Luna whipped around and shot a look at Soban that made him take a step back. “You should consider yourself lucky,” she hissed. “You and I will have a lengthy conversation after this.”

“Please, Princess, in his defence, I would have put myself in the same situation again and again, if need be,” Zenith moved herself further up the bed, masking a wince. “It’s unfair to place such responsibility on him.”

Luna pawed at the floor, while contemplating her next move. After a long, defeated sigh, she fixed her eyes back on Soban. “As much as I hate to admit it, Zenith is right. It is unfair to expect this much from you, given your line of work. I shall have to look into this matter further, but I trust this did not come about as a result of negligence.”

“I understand, ma’am. It’s like you said before. You’re just concerned.”

“Indeed. However, I would still like a word with you, once you are finished here,” Luna’s voice lightened slightly. “If there is anything you need, Zenith, please let me know.”

“I could probably go for a holiday,” Zenith laughed to herself. “Wouldn’t mind being planet-side again.”

“I shall wheel you out myself.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to be a burden, Princess. Regardless, I’m supposed to remain mostly immobile for the rest of this week, if I want to recover as soon as possible. Not exactly going to make for a decent holiday. I might as well make myself useful and go over some paperwork while I’m stuck here.”

“I admire your dedication, Zenith. If you require nothing else, I shall take the Captain with me, then. I wish you a rapid recovery.”

“Sorry for the short visit, Zenith. I’ll swing by later on,” Soban escorted Luna out.

“That was nice of her,” Zenith wiggled further down her bed, a twinge of pain shooting up from her flank. “Arrgh!”

“You okay, Zee?” Firelance shot up. “Anything I can do?”

“N—no, thank you,” Zenith grimaced. “You’ve done plenty for me already. I just need some rest.”

“You know you haven’t had anything to eat since you came out, right?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Bah! I’ll look around for a snack, at least. Stay right there.”

Zenith rolled her eyes, as the pegasus darted off around the corner. Moments later, Firelance returned with three oranges.

“Wasn’t much choice, but hey, it still beats the hospital food they serve in Canterlot,” he peeled an orange and offered it to Zenith, before peeling one for himself. “They serve this … soup thing. It’s bitter, and the vegetables are clearly cooked incorrectly.”

“So you’re a culinary expert now?”

“Surely you don’t think I order pizza every day! Gotta learn something. Some salad, the occasional omelette, a bit of pasta. But that’s beside the point. Simply put, even a diamond dog would make for a better chef than whoever’s in charge of food at that hospital.”

“What were you in for, anyway?”

“Flew into a billboard on my way home from the pub,” the pegasus crudely recreated the event with his hooves. “Woke up in the hospital with a minor concussion, and I was told I had to stay overnight for observation. Y’know, in case of a neck injury, or something.”

“Does everything you do somehow end up related to alcohol?”

“Probably,” Firelance shrugged. “It’s magical stuff. Here, you can have the last bit of orange.”

“That’s alright, you can have it.”

“Aww come on! Open up! Here comes the interceptor, requesting clearance to land!”

“Seriously?” Zenith deadpanned.

“Oh fine. The interceptor will make an emergency landing in my mmmph …”

Zenith shook her head. “You are one … unique individual.”

“So I’m told,” Firelance smirked. “Anyway, you should probably get some rest,” he pulled a couple of chairs together into a makeshift bed for himself. “Just poke me or something if you need anything.”

“You’re going to sleep on that? I’m fine, really. You can go back to your quarters.”

“That’s okay. Besides, I’ve slept on worse. No biggie for me.”

“Well, if you insist, then”—Zenith turned off the bedside light—“good night.”

“Nighty.”

Zenith watched the darkened outline of the pegasus, as he curled himself up into a ball and balanced precariously on the chairs. After a minute or so of silence, she sighed. “Oh what the hay, you can sleep here,” Zenith shifted to one side of her bed. “At least you get a blanket.”

Firelance lifted his head. “Wha—? You mean—”

“Yes, there’s plenty of room for two. You don’t snore, do you?”

“Even if I did, would it have made a difference where I slept?” Firelance hesitantly went under the covers.

“Of course. In that case, I would have insisted on you sleeping in your quarters.”

“Heh, you should hear the Captain, then,” the pegasus turned onto his stomach. An awkward silence followed, before Firelance spoke up once more. “So … does this mean that—”

“Shut up.”

“A—alright. G’night.”

“What about this one?” Corona flipped to another page in the Book of Gaalsien. “Paktu’s notes are all over it.”

“Read it aloud for me,” the Captain swung on his chair. “Slowly.”

Corona cleared her throat, pausing momentarily. Soban stared off into the blackened void of space, as the unicorn recited the text.

The test of time, the stronghold passed,

Its watchmen gone, all vaporised,

Though battered and bruised, it achieved its goal,

Deep within a most turbulent Shoal,

Yet He whose hand shapes all that is,

Returns to claim what is rightfully his,

The price of our insult to Him is high,

Repent, repent, the End Time is nigh

Soban remained silent. He tapped a finger on his armrest, as he tried to process the text. “Well, the second half is obvious, but the first part? What do you make of it, Corona?”

“Me? I’m no expert on—on this sort of thing. You probably know more than I do.”

“I’m just as clueless. I’m hoping you might have another perspective or interpretation of the text.”

“Well, you said Khorsabad is a fortress where the Progenitors made their final stand and fled to another galaxy, right? Perhaps that is the ‘stronghold’ mentioned here,” Corona tapped her hoof on the first line.

“It’s a likely possibility I considered as well. Let’s assume it is. Next line. That has to be about the Progenitors that manned the fortress. Next line. Battered, bruised, yeah, yeah, this is just filler text. That just leaves ‘Deep within a most turbulent Shoal’. If this text hints the location of Khorsabad, this would be the line.”

“But isn’t a shoal just an area of shallow water? That doesn’t make sense. Unless it’s just another one of those metaphorical things. Okay, if we ignore that bit, and look at ‘turbulent’. An unsteady or violent movement of something, or an area lacking calmness.”

“There are plenty of places in our galaxy that fit that description, I’m afraid,” the Captain shook his head. “It doesn’t really narrow it down for us.”

“Just thinking out loud here, but what if we look at ‘Shoal’ again? It’s related to water. Something turbulent is likely to be related to air or water. Put the two together, and … okay, I don’t know what I was getting at there.”

One of the speakers in Soban’s office became alive with Fluttershy’s timid voice. “Umm, I don’t know if it helps, but a shoal could also be a very large group of fish,” she suggested.

“Mmm, that still doesn’t help,” Soban shook his head. “If anything, that just further confuses me by making a stronger connection to water. What if Khorsabad is on a planet? That would make sense.”

Corona frowned. “What if it has nothing to do with water? It’s capitalised. Why?”

After a minute of staring at the page, the Captain leaned back in defeat. “Ahh, I don’t know. I’ve got nothing. Maybe we should call it a night.”

“It’s four-twenty, Canterlot time.”

“You know what I mean, Corona. We can continue after breakfast. Dismissed.”

Throughout breakfast, the Captain remained preoccupied with the Book of Gaalsien, scanning the text for the elusive answers. Even as he finished up and left for the bridge, he continued reading along the way, trying to find some pattern or meaning, even trying to read backwards, upside down, and in any other combination he could think of, out of desperation. Distracted, he did not notice the fiery-maned pegasus he nearly tripped over.

“Whoah, mate, reading and walking is a dangerous thing!” Firelance mocked.

“I was wondering where you’ve been. I could make a few guesses, though. How’s she doing?”

“She’s doing alright. Hay, better than alright. Whatever those fancy Hiigaran drugs are, they work wonders.”

“I’m guessing she’s getting administered one of our cellular growth treatments. I don’t really understand how it works, but it just speeds up the replication and growth of the cells near the applied area.”

“Still more than I understand. She’s bedridden for now, though. Can’t move that leg without immense pain. What about you?”

“Ahh, I’ve been up all night with Corona, trying to figure out where Khorsabad is,” Soban held up the book. “You try making any sense of this bit here. ‘Deep within a most turbulent Shoal’. What is that?”

“By ‘what about you’, I meant how’s your shoulder, but alright, I’ll take a look …” Firelance read the passage, scrunching his face. “Yeah, no clue. Maybe it’s just something silly.”

“Eh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just trying to see something that isn’t th—”

“Wait a sec, gimme that again,” the pegasus re-read the text. “Maybe … Wait, does this mean I know more about your history than you do?”

“Huh?”

The pair entered the bridge and exchanged brief nods of acknowledgement with the bridge crew. Firelance continued. “Well on more than one occasion, I found myself reading up on Hiigaran history, which is quite fascinating by the way. And this is coming from me! I don’t normally care for all that boring historical crap.”

“Get to the point, ‘Lance.”

“Alrighty, patience. Do you have a map of the galaxy I can use? Great. Now zoom in on this part. You’re familiar with the line I’m drawing here, right?”

“Of course. One of the most important parts of our history. What about it?”

“Well here’s the start of the line. Point one. Then point two, three, four, five, and finally, six,” Firelance tapped each point as he mentioned them.

“That—that might just be it. Midnight, I need you to do some overtime for me. Set coordinates for that region, and send a transmission to Nabaal. Any Hiigaran vessel that has weapons should be put on alert and ready to drop whatever they are doing. I don’t care if they are in the middle of some battle with a Turanic Raider fleet. If Khorsabad is here, we’re going to need every bit of help.”

“Transmission underway. Do you want me to get the fleet into formation? Immediate departure?”

“Except the carrier. It should stay here. Engage hyperspace as soon as the fleet is ready.”

Epilogue

Deep in the heart of cloudy Canterlot, the tranquil peace of the early morning was cut short by the shrill ring of an alarm clock. A being stirred and groaned under the covers, making blind swipes at the source of the racket, until eventually the infernal device had been silenced.

Even on overcast days, Mel required a few minutes to adjust to Celestia’s sun. There was just something about this particular star that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. What was it about this sun that made its bright light so … invigorating? He pondered this question every morning, as he stretched his legs underneath the pegasus-down blanket; a wonderfully insulating and ever so soft material that only the residents of Canterlot could truly appreciate at their high altitude.

After another stretch, this time his arms and shoulders, he forced himself out of his white cocoon. His roommate found it rather odd that he wore thermal clothing to bed, but then again, Firelance had no high ground with his own abundance of oddities.

Mel’s room was not the most glamorous. In fact, it was nothing more than a remodelled storage room with a small window in Firelance’s apartment. It was a suitable temporary solution, just until he found a larger vacant apartment; an uphill struggle, with the housing shortage the city had faced recently. Luckily, Mel had been given priority on the waitlist by Princess Luna, since he declined her generous gift of free land along the outskirts of Manehattan.

Princess Luna …

Staring into the bathroom mirror, he looked back on that day when his fleet returned. When he and his crew disembarked and returned planet-side. Luna was grief-stricken, perhaps moreso than Mel had been. She didn’t show it, though. No yelling or tempers lost. No tears or snivels, nor a fire in her eyes. Yet Mel knew it ate away at her from the inside. The very air around her seemed to change, and somehow he knew that once she’d find herself in solitude, everything she had held in throughout the rest of the day would come out. She seemed the type to him, anyway.

Mel pushed the thought to the back of his mind and washed off his shaver. Having that thought linger around all day would be counter-productive. Returning to his room, he picked out some smart-casual attire from a small collection of possessions he had brought back from Hiigara a few weeks ago. While he had space for the essentials, most of his belongings had been stored in an adjacent district since then, until new accommodation would be chosen.

A quick inspection of himself later, he made his way to the kitchen and put the kettle on the stove. Behind him, the door to Firelance’s bedroom opened to reveal a hung-over pegasus. “You look like crap, ‘Lance,” he noted the pegasus’ slow, unbalanced steps.

“Thank you, Captain obvious,” Firelance yawned, blinking hard several times, until an annoying blur in one of his eyes finally disappeared.

“Pfft, lightweight,” Mel smirked.

“Hey, now who taught you how to be a professional drinker, eh?” Firelance tapped his chest. “The student becomes the master!”

“It took you only six shots before you crawled up to Boris and tried to kiss him through his fish tank. That poor fish must be scarred for life.”

“Hey, shudup, I drank on an empty stomach! You know you can handle more when you eat something first, right? Speaking of food, you making breakfast?”

“Make your own food, I’m not your mother,” Mel replied, taking the kettle and pouring himself a cup of green tea with lemon, and a short black for Firelance.

“Cheers,” the pegasus took his cup. “So what’s the plan today?”

“Business as usual,” Mel took a seat, stifling a yawn. “The mothership’s primary framework is just about done, and the construction material I’ve ordered has finally started to come in. If all goes according to plan, the construction crew should be able to start building one of the major segments today. I believe it’s that ventral brace that connects the outboard engines to the lower engine.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something, actually. Doesn’t it bother you that you’ve gone from being a Captain to some measly logistics manager?” Firelance called back, rummaging through the fridge. “Uhh, no offence.”

“None taken. Besides, it was my choice, remember? You know the whole retirement thing?” Mel paused for another sip of tea and allowed it to warm him up from within. “Turns out it’s not for me. Still, I like being a part of something big, so I figured I’d do this. The shorter hours are definitely a bonus, and enjoy fixed hours have really grown on me.”

The pair continued their conversation while Firelance finished making breakfast. Shortly after, they stopped abruptly, to greet the latest newcomer into the kitchen.

“Morning Zee,” Firelance’s slid a plate over. “Sleep well?”

“Well enough,” Zenith leaned on Firelance. “You?”

“I don’t even remember going to bed last night. I kinda blacked out at some point.”

“Yeah, I had to pick you up and put you in bed,” Mel explained. “By the way, I think you’ve gained a few. Fatty.”

“Hey, that’s just extra muscle!” Firelance slapped Mel upside the head with his wing.

“We’ll see. You still up for a jog on the weekend?”

“Try and stop me! You wanna join us, Zee?”

“Sure, why not?” Zenith shrugged. “My cousin was supposed to visit from Fillydelphia, but she had to reschedule for Tuesday.”

“Ugh, I never liked her. She gives me a headache when she goes on and on with her gossip,” the pegasus made a circular gesture with his hoof. “Thankfully I’ll be away on Tuesday, and the rest of that week. Harmony is going to oversee some trade route security. Damn Raiders are persistent little blighters. Sure you don’t want to help us stick it to them, Mel?”

“I’m sure,” Mel chuckled. “But hey, if you want some extra job satisfaction, be sure to insult their familial lineage when you engage them. They’re very sensitive about that.”

“What, really?” Firelance snickered.

“Oh yeah. Of course, some ‘Raiders’ are simply other races who have joined them, but the ones who originated from Turan are, for whatever reason, fanatically proud of where they come from,” Mel paused to think. “Just … Yes, just make a remark about them being a half-blood Taiidani bastard child, and you’ll probably give them an aneurysm.”

“Hah! I’ll keep that in mind, but our Captain isn’t really one for messing around. One of those by-the-book types. I don’t think she likes me, either.”

“Female Captain, eh?”

Firelance rolled his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder …”

“Oh, I know the type. Had one of those sorts as one of my instructors, back when I was just a recruit in the Hiigaran Navy. I’ve got plenty of stories about those days. Might tell you a few later on, but right now, I need to get going. The train isn’t going to wait for me, ex-Captain of the galaxy-saving fleet or not.”

Stepping out onto the deserted cobblestone street, Mel took a moment to take in the crisp morning air before heading down towards the regional train station. The train bound for Appleloosa would depart in approximately twenty minutes, though it had known to be a few minutes late in the past. After the occasional greeting from passers-by that one must endure as a famous and conspicuous member of an alien society, Mel found his favourite corner in the carriage to settle in to.

With a little help of some advanced technology in the field of locomotion that the Equestrian government had implemented a while back on their infrastructure, Mel awoke a mere hour later, napping the journey away and finding himself on the sun-baked plains of the rustic little town. He remembered this region during his early days on the planet; Manaan had flown nearby to a mesa, where his journey here truly began. The place where the fourth core had slumbered for millennia.

It was only fitting that the Mothership’s construction would take place there. The innards of the isolated mesa had provided a ready-made and secure base of operations, and the surrounding plains offered plenty of room for a vessel that massive to launch from.

He could see the very top of the Mothership’s framework peek over the horizon as he stepped off the train, and into a carriage that had been waiting for him outside the station. A six kilometre ride later, and he found himself making his way past the security checkpoint, and onto the construction site. Staring up at the grand masterpiece in progress, he could only beam with pride and imagine the possibilities that would lie ahead of the Mothership. Of Aurora. The true pride of Equestria.

Yes, today would be another wonderful day.

An enigmatic being materialised in front of Soban. “Ahh, the man of the hour has finally arrived! Pesky trains still fail to run on time, it seems. Oh, I’m sorry, where are my manners? Care for some Earl Grey?”

Well … Almost a wonderful day.

“Go away, Discord.”

1: Landfall

CREW AUDIO LOG
M. SOBAN, CPT
MANAAN, FLK. FRG.
FERIN SHA FLEET
9625.96 GSY

While I may never live to see my fleet again, or Hiigara for that matter, I feel it is my duty to record my life thus far on this alien planet. Even so, I must start from the beginning, during the events that took place shortly after the discovery of the Eye of Aarran; the great network of hyperspace gates.

It was a sight to behold; a Progenitor creation allowing faster-than-light travel for an entire fleet to almost any general region of our galaxy. The possibilities such devices held were incalculable. It was decided the fleet under my command, Ferin Sha, would provide escort for Fleet Command’s flagship, Sajuuk. We were prepared for anything. Resupply, repair, military action, everything. Or so we thought.

The marine frigate I had grown so accustomed to had been taken in for extensive overhauls at the time, so I took command of the flak frigate Manaan for the duration of this mission. We expected a simple, straightforward operation. We would head through the Eye, arrive at the outskirts of the galaxy, remain for up to two days while taking readings and searching for possible side effects of travel, then if no issues were reported, we would return home.

To this day, I still do not know what had happened to everyp—I mean, everyone else. As far as I was aware, my ship entered the Eye, then exited alone at the wrong coordinates, with several other complications in between. There’s little doubt in my mind this was some malfunction from the ancient device. I had expressed my concerns to Fleet Intelligence regarding sending such a large fleet head-first into the unknown, but so far only Sajuuk, with its link to the Progenitors, has been able to open the Eye. Being such a vital asset, we had no choice but to travel as escorts.

More concerning for me is what happened to Sajuuk and the rest of my fleet. I still don’t know if the others had made it intact at the correct exit coordinates, if they had all been scattered to different parts of the galaxy, or if their bodies had been lost to hyperspace. For everyone’s sake, I hope it’s the former, as I have reason to believe there may be a strategic asset on this planet, along with potential allies possessing powerful abilities. It’s probably best if I proceed in chronological order though.

I knew something was amiss even before I discovered Manaan was alone. As I regained consciousness, I found my ship drifting along the edge of a large asteroid cluster in a near inoperative state. Worst of all, my crew had gone missing. Twenty five crew members including myself must remain on active duty, with another fifteen in reserve, while the frigate is deployed. Yet none of them were aboard.

Only one theory seemed to come to mind, though to this day I still hope I am wrong. All across the ship, were hundreds, maybe thousands of burn marks, as if large jolts of electricity had stuck. Could my crew have been vaporised? If so, why did I survive? Luck? I have no other explanation for it.

I lack the luxury of time to dwell on such thoughts, though. Any fool who can operate a probe will tell you a ship of this size cannot operate properly with just one crew member, no matter how skilled he or she is. After repeated attempts to make contact with anyone either inside or outside my ship, I had set about trying to bring Manaan back to at least a basic operational state, even if I didn’t have the multitasking abilities of Fleet Command. Propulsion was a priority.

However, the damage was worse than I had thought. Not only were primary engines out, but vital systems had also been damaged. The primary fusion power plant, weapons systems, and worst of all, life support, were beyond my capacity to repair, as I lacked the time and the manpower. I’m a Captain, not a one-man repair team.

With no other alternative, I did what anyone else would have done: Improvise. I still had manoeuvring thrusters partially powered by the functioning auxiliary power plant, but with life support down, I only had approximately three days worth of air. By Sajuuk’s divine intervention, there was a planet nearby with a safe atmosphere. Reaching it was possible if I diverted the remaining power from all manoeuvring thrusters into the aft pair to either side of the primary engines and fire them all at once. Highly inefficient of course, but it got the job done.

A scan from low orbit confirmed the right combination of atmospheric gases, and temperatures were both stable and safe. I couldn’t say the same for the conditions within the cabin, so I began to make preparations for an immediate atmospheric entry.

Of course, most Hiigaran military vessels aren’t designed for re-entry operations. Fighters and corvettes would break up halfway in, as they lack power absorption layers larger ships have. Destroyers and larger ships would survive initially, but their sheer mass combined with the gravitational pull of a planet would render their engines useless, as they would be unable to cope with the immense forces required to make anything close to a safe landing. A frigate however, would have a much higher chance of surviving. After all, the hull is designed to withstand damage from plasma, so entering the atmosphere would not present a major issue, and the relatively lower mass would allow for a safer landing.

Still, the fact I had no main engines remained a major issue. Once again I had to reroute power, this time to the ventral and forward section thrusters. Topographic data indicated extensive woodlands of varying densities, situated on a large landmass near the equator. More suitable landing sites required remaining in orbit for a longer period, but by this point, my supply of usable air had dwindled to almost nothing. I figured trees were preferable to an ocean.

After the plan was set, I laid in my vectors, and with difficulty, the process was executed almost flawlessly. I watched as the outermost layer of Manaan’s armour burned away while I descended rapidly through the atmosphere and over the ocean. Upon sighting my landing zone, I had fired the thrusters in varying combinations, initially prioritising speed control over descent rate. The result was a trail of decimated trees a few hundred metres behind the area I came to a halt at.

It took a while for me to register it, but I had survived, evidently. Alarms blared and lights flashed, but nothing in any of the damage reports suggested a compromised hull. The worst of the damage was from the ventral flak cannon being completely torn from its mounting, though I would have been surprised if it had remained intact. With the remaining power, I activated the distress beacon, shut off all non-essential systems and ran out for some much-needed air.

The sun was barely up when I landed, so by the time I had finished the remainder of my tasks aboard Manaan, the opportunity to find some food and water had presented itself. As this was a world capable of sustaining plant life, I assumed there could also be animals, and by extension, predators. I took no chances, so I brought a pulsar rifle from the armoury, along with an automatic direction finder set to the frequency of the distress beacon.

Thus, my first day of survival began. Several canisters capable of holding enough water for a rationed week were taken with me, as I travelled north to a river I spotted from the air. Pretty uneventful day. The woods were sparsely packed, so I could see if anything approached, though I found nought but birds and small woodland creatures, not unlike those back on Hiigara.

Day two had been more eventful, as it marked the beginning of what would be a chain reaction of some of the most interesting discoveries. On this day, I had decided to head in an easterly direction. I was exploring for the sake of exploring, but I had taken similar equipment from the previous day in case I found food. An hour after the sun was directly overhead, I decided to return to Manaan.

That’s when I saw two brightly coloured quadruped animals off in the distance. About a metre to a metre and a half in height, these creatures were oblivious to my presence. They were animals unlike any I had seen, but one would keep me fed for days, so I stalked my prey, closing in without drawing attention to myself. Only then, when I had charged up my pulsar and taken aim, did I notice the most peculiar, and at the time, disturbing thing. They conversed with each other. In Galactic Common.

I had encountered a sentient, alien race. One unheard of until now. The best course of action at this stage would have been to fall back and report such findings to my superiors, but as that was out of the equation, I had instead decided to follow the creatures. Perhaps they had a home, or a society of some kind.

I think it goes without saying that the Captain of a marine frigate would have plenty of experience with remaining hidden during infiltration operations, so keeping up with those creatures was easier than shredding attack bombers with flak fire. This also gave me enough time to think about how I was going to approach the entire situation. Do I just walk up to a group, or do I try to find a lone creature and introduce myself? What will I say? How will I gain their trust? And most importantly, could they be in any position to help me?

Many hours later, and quite a distance further to the east, I had encountered a clearing where I found a town. An actual town, filled with these creatures. I stopped pursuing the two at this point, in fear of exposing myself prematurely. I had to have a plan. After all, I would be Hiigara’s representative to this race, so making a good impression, or at least one that wasn’t dreadful, would be paramount.

The sun had started to set, but there was plenty of daylight remaining when I executed my plan. As I traversed the woodlands to find a convenient area to emerge from, I came across an orchard, situated along the outskirts of the town. Still doing my best to remain hidden behind what little cover remained while I approached, I could make out a bright red creature pulling an empty cart towards some baskets. My plan was to intercept it, introduce myself, and obtain information on some higher authority I could speak to, without making my presence obvious to the major populace.

First contact was … interesting. Surprisingly it was no disaster, but it was rather awkward. As I poked my head out from behind a tree and tried to greet it—him, I should say, I received silence and a vacant stare. With more nervousness than I’d like to admit, I asked if there was anyone around who I could talk to for assistance, to which he replied with a simple “eeyup”, before motioning me to follow him.

Within the hour, I had become fully acquainted with the Apple family. The red one introduced me to his two sisters and grandmother. Admittedly there were a couple of shrieks of terror from the eldest and youngest, but after we all calmed down, they were surprisingly friendly. It almost felt as if I was taking advantage of their hospitality as they later shoved various apple related edibles in front of me, while I exchanged my tale for their information and assistance. They even offered me a room to sleep in, insisting it was an honour. How could I say no, when it was fast approaching night, and my ship was many kilometres away?

During this time, I took the opportunity to better analyse the physique of these creatures, who call themselves ponies. Four thick legs, short bodies, large heads and even larger eyes would be sufficient to describe their general appearance. From there on, other details varied wildly. Their short fur coats could be orange, green, red, or whatever else in between, along with the colours, patterns, and styles of their tails and what they call their manes. Oh, that’s their hair, by the way. Now, perhaps the most unique physical trait would be the symbol on either side of their posteriors, signifying their specialities or talents. Apparently they pop into existence when they realise what those specialities are, but I have yet to figure out how that actually works.

I also learned I was in a town called Ponyville, in the land of Equestria. To this day, the name still amuses me. Hah! Imagine Hiigara’s equivalent! Kushanville? Anyway, I digress. If I listed off every amusing name or corny event witnessed during my brief stay, I’d never finish this log.

The next day, the eldest sister brought someone, or ‘somepony’, as they liked to say, up to the orchard. I figured she was either an authority figure, or an intellectual being, though her behaviour and mannerisms suggested the latter. Most fascinating was the single, conical horn protruding from her head. This seems to serve as the source of her telekinetic abilities, one I daresay could be a military advantage if harnessed correctly. In any case, after a brief retelling of my story to the horned pony named Twilight Sparkle, I found myself dragged towards the inner part of the town, drawing mixed reactions from bystanders. Eventually we arrived at some sort of hybrid home and library cleverly built in to a tree.

Within a few minutes, Twilight had had fetched a small reptilian named Spike. Also sentient, he served as some kind of secretary who wrote everything as Twilight dictated to him. From what I overheard, she was going to contact the highest authorities regarding my presence; a pair of Princesses named Celestia and Luna.

Spike apparently has the ability to emit fire from his mouth, something that confused me after he burned up the parchment he had only just finished writing on. A minute later, I discovered the purpose, as a loud belch alerted me to witness another letter emerging from his flames! Something else I cannot understand, but it looked like some strange form of long-distance communication. It was a reply stating that we were about to be visited by royalty.

I needed no introduction from Twilight to know the pair who eventually entered the library were none other than the Princesses themselves. Both much taller than average ponies, sporting a horn and a pair of wings each, they entered and sat, staring at me, while my eyes shifted back and forth between their manes and tails. They flowed in a nonexistent wind, while one bore the bright colours of an Aurora Borealis, and the other of a night sky, complete with small glimmers representing stars. At this point, I had given up on trying to find explanations for the plethora of phenomena that seem to be exclusive to this minuscule corner of our galaxy. Wherever we are, anyway.

For royalty, I was amazed at how informal our meeting was, or that despite the pulsar rifle on my back, there was a lack of security beyond a pair of guards with spears, stationed outside the tree-house library. They listened intently as I explained my story for the third time. Soon after, I was bombarded with questions from the Princesses and Twilight.

Then came the question I was surprised I didn’t hear sooner: “Can we see your ship?” I obliged, though not without hesitation. With the help of my tracking device, I pointed in the right direction and stated the rough distance we would have to travel. Before I could prepare for the long hike, a flash of light blinded me, and I found myself standing in a forest, dumbfounded. We had teleported. These horned ponies could mentally move objects, and teleport themselves and others with them! I’m no scientist, but this should be studied. If we can determine the maximum area of effect and distance that can be travelled, it may offer an alternative to hyperspace, allowing even strike craft to travel vast distances. The evasiveness of even battlecruisers could create superior military power and combat effectiveness with fewer vessels.

I was so caught up in the surprise that I did not notice we must have teleported slightly off course, as one of the Princesses flew up over the treetops to scan the area. She must have located Manaan, as we appeared at its side after another flash of light.

Manaan hummed healthily as its auxiliary power plant began to increase its output, compensating for the additional power demands from the lighting and systems I had activated. I would like to say I gave my guests the grand tour, but when a ship of this size enters a planet’s atmosphere and lands in a less than graceful manner, loose objects tend to litter the cabin. Karan save us if this was a torpedo frigate.

Finishing off the tour at the bridge, I asked the question: Could they help me? Considering my first impressions of their technological levels, I expected a no, but I got the opposite, under one condition: I allow the royal Equestrian scientists access to the ship for research purposes. I had to think about that one. I could be charged with treason if I allowed Hiigaran technology to fall into the hands of others, or hooves, as the case may be, but in the end it was a calculated risk I took. My only condition to their condition was that I be present at all times and that no scientists be allowed access to any part of the ship without my permission and supervision. Equestrians might look like pacifists, but I still had to ensure the safety of sensitive data, such as deployments and tactical information stored within Manaan’s computers.

After our agreement, we materialised back outside Twilight’s library, and the two Princesses bid farewell. They would be in contact within a week, leaving me with time to kill. Mere moments after the Princesses left, Twilight and I stepped foot in the library, where a bright pink pony ambushed me, blowing confetti in my face and assaulting me with streamers. It seemed as if the whole town was somehow crammed in there for what was apparently their idea of a welcoming party.

I’ve never been one for parties, or any other kind of celebration for that matter, but I have to admit, this party was certainly … different. It was rather juvenile, with balloons, candy, songs and games, but I had become acquainted with an entire town in a matter of minutes, with the insistent ‘help’ of Pinkie Pie. Take a wild guess what colour her fur was.

The party lasted throughout the entire day, moving on into the night at some sort of nightclub. It was much more bearable, considering the style of music changed, and they provided me with free alcoholic beverages, most of which I have never even seen back home. Upon retrospect, it was most certainly a bad idea to try them all, considering I

REDACTED

I probably shouldn’t have said that. Will have to edit this later.

I decided it was safer to spend the remainder of the week in the library, partly due to the … alcohol incident, and partly due to some mint-green pony constantly stalking me in an unnerving, conspicuous manner. Naturally, as I was in a library, there were plenty of books to read about Equestria, which satisfied my curiosity in their sporadic use of technology, their use of this so-called ‘magic’ by horned, or ‘unicorn’ ponies, and of course, their astronomy.

This was where mysteries began to surface. By the end of the week, I had come across the same emblem several times in a couple of books on legends and historical artefacts. Of course, they weren’t a perfect replica of the real thing, but there were striking similarities suggesting the origin of this symbol was none other than Abbasid. Concerning. Very concerning.

I was not part of the Pride of Hiigara’s fleet when they encountered the keepers of Abbasid during the Vaygr Campaign, but the mission reports I read suggested the keepers were virtually unstoppable. Had it not been for the self-genocidal sacrifice of the Great Harbour-Ship of Bentus … Well, things would have turned out much differently. However, the fact remains that these symbols I have seen, and their implications, were unsettling. Should there be any keepers on or near this planet, it would be wise not to awaken them. Although I figured if there was a keeper here, it probably would have detected me long ago, so I felt slightly reassured.

Those thoughts had been temporarily pushed to the back of my mind when Princess Celestia returned. She was to take me to the capital city to begin the collaboration between myself and the scientists. I had only found out later on why I was taken to the capital, instead of directly to Manaan.

During my approach, and subsequent crash in the forest, I had failed to notice the capital off in the distance. A magnificent castle city hanging precariously off the side of a steep mountain, with multiple waterfalls cascading hundreds of metres down towards the base, Canterlot is the home of the Princesses, and to my amazement, the new location of Manaan. Princess Celestia explained to me that during the week prior, a crude dock was hastily constructed underneath a section of the city with ample room for the disabled frigate. From there, it was a matter of teleporting the frigate into place and securing it. I said it before, but I’ll say it again: We have to study this teleportation. Fleet Intelligence would not be living up to its name if they disagreed.

Thus began my career as a supervisor for a bunch of giddy scientists. I had been generously offered a place to stay within Canterlot, but after a ship-wide cleanup, I declined and used my quarters aboard Manaan instead. I guess it was nice to have an all expenses paid life just for keeping an eye on some overexcited white-coats, but I did want to speed up the process. As enjoyable and relaxing as this place is, I would like to reunite with my fleet, if they are alive. I needed Manaan in working condition.

There was one thing I was still missing: A crew. The moment I mentioned it as an innocent, passing comment, I was pinned to the floor by a mob of scientists, all volunteering themselves. What choice did I have anyway? As a result, I had to set aside time in my schedule to teach multiple groups of ponies the basics. Each pony would be posted to a different station, so specialisation was in order. Some would be in engineering, some on weapons, some would be on the bridge, and so on.

I also took advantage of this extra time with Manaan to repair the damaged systems. As I mentioned earlier, the three systems I could not repair when I arrived were life support, weapons, and the primary power plant. The power plant was top priority for two reasons: Without it, the auxiliary power would soon run dry, and even worse, no primary power meant no main drives.

Documentation for these systems and how to repair them were already within the ship’s data banks, but a lot of these tasks involved meticulous tuning, multi-crew operations, and plenty of lifting over several days of almost non-stop work. Some components had to be outright replaced. While engineering contained spare parts to most of these systems, others required extensive improvisation, particularly with the power plant. I’m still worried about achieving a stable output, but in theory, the only issue that might exist would be a lower output, most of which can be compensated for anyway.

During this time, I had busied myself with several books from the Canterlot Library. The keepers had returned to my thoughts, and I started doing a lot of bedtime reading on books similar to those in Ponyville. Another book made reference to the same emblem once again. Interestingly, this book was on the Elements of Harmony; six fundamental components representing harmony, peace, and order. These Elements are wielded by ponies to create some of the most powerful magic in existence. I won’t pretend to understand these Elements, but how are the keepers, and their Progenitor creators related to them?

With Twilight being a bearer of one of these Elements, I figured she could assist me, so she agreed without hesitation to temporarily move to Canterlot. If nothing else, she would be able to read through entire books faster than I could even open them, leaving me with more time to work on repairs and crew training, while she searched for information on what this link between the Elements and the keepers could be. Regarding the symbol of Abbasid within the book on the Elements, Twilight insisted she never knew of its significance, dismissing it as some random pattern within the background of an image when she first read the book.

Only yesterday, when the final repairs and basic tests were completed, did we make a possible breakthrough. Twilight had burst through to the bridge with a book levitating alongside her. It was supposedly a science-fiction novel written by an unknown author about aliens living in a giant nebula and preying on ships that travel through it. Sound familiar? Far too many similarities to dismiss it as coincidence. The symbol of Abbasid was described, and the narrative added Equestria into it, naming an area within the nebula after the plains between Ponyville, and some small rural town named Appleloosa. If this leads somewhere, those plains might provide answers.

I have no idea what could be waiting for us though. A device, perhaps? If whatever this object is exists, it must be hidden beneath the ground, otherwise others would have come across it already. It could be cloaked, but that seems highly unlikely. With Manaan’s sensors, I should be able to find whatever it is that lies there in no time at all. If we find nothing, the journey will at least serve as our test flight.

And so I come to today. Launch day. Extensive analysis suggests all systems are online and working within acceptable tolerances. Though lacking any experience or anything close to proper training, I have a crew, and they seem more eager to learn and improve, than most recruits I have seen in service. After being informed of the day’s plan, Twilight recommended the other bearers of the Elements of Harmony be aboard. I reluctantly agreed, as the pink one with no sense of personal space was among them. Within a few minutes, the only way off this ship will be through the airlock.

…

Well, the moment of truth is here. I’ll be needed on the bridge shortly, so I should wrap this up. If all goes well, our plan will be to launch, then set a course for the plains, gradually increasing power to full output over an extended period. The cabin will be sealed to test life support performance, and the weapons systems will undergo calibration and simulated combat en route. If we find nothing, we’ll return to Canterlot. If we do find something? I haven’t figured that part out yet.

Captain Soban signing out.

LOG TERMINATED

16: The End Time

“Engaging cloak field,” Corona reported. “Hyperspace exit in three … two … one … I—whoah!”

“HARD TO STARBOARD!” Captain Soban boomed.

“I got this!” Shining Armour’s horn glowed, with barely enough time to protect against a fast-approaching asteroid almost as large as a destroyer.

The fleet’s crew breathed a sigh of relief, as the asteroid that had threatened Harmony deflected and shattered. Smaller fragments bounced off the hulls of every other ship in the fleet, creating clinks and clangs that echoed throughout their interiors. Out of immediate danger, they took in their surroundings, barely illuminated by a nearby star. Colossal rocks surrounded the fleet, almost completely blocking out the twinkling backdrop of stars. Some drifted along lazily, while a few others zoomed by at frightening speeds.

“Impressive, Shining. I don’t recall you possessing the ability to block something that large before,” Soban watched a distant asteroid shoot across and collide with another. “Now then. I doubt I need confirmation we’ve arrived in the right area. Welcome to the Diamond Shoals.”

“Uhh, Captain?” Corona raised her hoof hesitantly. “Given the collision hazard we are in, maybe we should—”

“Way ahead of you. Fleet, close in and maintain a tight formation,” Soban radioed in. “Corona, report.”

“Immediate area clear of anything potentially hostile. Got another problem, though,” Corona frowned. “Sensors are barely penetrating these asteroids. Long-range is out.”

“Damn. Alright, disengage cloak and hold position. Maybe our core mares see something.”

“It’s not so much we see something, but rather … feel something,” Rarity began. “There appears to be some form of interference blocking our higher senses, but something is pulling at us. Our cores and this ship, I mean.”

“Can you locate anything, regardless?” the Captain stared up at the loudspeaker from which Rarity’s voice originated.

“Perhaps,” Rarity mused, pausing to further analyse the situation. “Our vision doesn’t appear to have the same limitations as the sensors, but that doesn’t say much. We can only see a tad further. Whatever this interference is, it’s like a fog to us. You understand what I mean, yes?”

“I think I do. I guess we should set course towards … whatever it is you feel is pulling on us.”

“With your permission, I would rather take direct control of Harmony. The direction we are being pulled in is tightly packed with asteroids. After that close call with the minefield, I believe navigating through this place will require a great deal of finesse, and an abundance of patience.”

“Very well, ma’am, but keep both Midnight and I updated on everything.”

“… That’s the crew roster done for this fortnight. Won’t have to worry about that for a while,” Zenith sighed, stretching her legs as much as possible, without causing undue pain.

“Why in the hay would you be rostering crew?” Firelance spoke through a mouthful of bean salad. “Shouldn’t that be the job of somepony higher up?”

“Are you going to question everything that I do?”

“Maybe.”

“Humph,” Zenith’s nostrils flared in mild annoyance. “And no, you’re thinking of the list of crew stationed aboard all ships in our fleet at given times. This roster is for crew already aboard. Many of the crew are assigned secondary jobs, since there’s no point having crew working exclusively in cleaning, food prep, and other such menial tasks.”

“Whew! Glad my station doesn’t allow for one of those ‘secondary jobs’.”

“Mmm, yes,” Zenith said in an almost dreary tone. “Sometimes I wish I could just post you to toilet cleaning duties.”

“Aww, why?”

“So I have somewhere to send you when you get on my nerves,” she bopped him on his forehead. “Now let me finish my work.”

“Arrgh, you’re gonna be at it all day!” the pegasus frowned at the modest pile of papers stacked neatly on the table beside Zenith. “What could you possibly have to do that must be done in your condition?”

“That’s precisely why I’m doing all this work. If I just lie here and do nothing, I’m going to lose my mind from the boredom.”

“Ahem …”

“Yes, yes. Suffice it to say, I may need some time to get used to more frequent exposures to you, first—”

“That can be interpreted in many ways,” Firelance wiggled his eyebrows.

“—since I have yet to determine the long-term mental ramifications that may or may not be caused by your proximity,” Zenith ignored the pegasus’ remark.

“And what do you plan to do in the meantime?”

“My work,” Zenith lifted several papers from the top of the pile. “Believe it or not, some of it is actually quite fascinating. Exciting, even.”

Firelance gave Zenith a sidelong glance. “Paperwork? Exciting? Pfft, come on! The Element of Honesty could come up with a more believable lie!”

“Ah heard that!” the unmistakable accent of a certain pony scolded overhead.

“You think so?” Zenith grinned, turning to rummage through her papers once more. “One moment. Need to find … no, that’s not—ah! Feast your eyes on this!”

Firelance shuffled closer to Zenith, who placed a small, black binder between them. Quickly flipping through the pages, the document outlined extensive, albeit highly incomplete technical specifications for an Equestrian project so massive, the pegasus began to salivate profusely at the contents.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“That is a mothership, yes.”

Were it not for the bed he was leaning back against, Firelance’s wings would have shot out in a flash.

“Bit of an odd design for a mothership, isn’t it?” Firelance finally commented, after rolling his tongue back into his mouth.

“How so?”

“Well, look at Harmony’s design. Look at a carrier. Hay, look at the old Pride of Hiigara. All long and flat-like. This design is completely different. I’m guessing that central teardrop structure is the main cabin, and the two slightly smaller ones to the left and right are the main engines—”

“They’re also large plasma bomb launchers. That’s why the engines look so big. They’ve got enough power to move the ship along, even without the additional two outboard engines, the ventral auxiliary engine, or the central inline engine, but the difference is that due to their higher output, they’re designed with a powerful plasma venting system. A frigate could dodge them at long range, but cruisers won’t be getting anywhere close to this ship.”

“Neat! So those outboard engines over there”—Firelance pointed to thinner, more cylindrical engines at the vessel’s extremities—“they have plasma launchers, too? What’s with that needle on their front ends?”

“Ion cannons. Corona used data gathered from the Kadesh battle to recreate the lance-ship’s ion cannon. Still hasn’t fully passed testing, though. Not for a lack of power available, mind you. The cooling systems keep burning out when fired.”

“Alright, any other weapons?”

Zenith flipped a few pages forward to another blueprint that outlined surface features of the hull. “For short-range point-defence, the surface is covered in pulsar turrets, which can extend and retract. Princess Luna insisted on a minimum of fifty, and wanted the research division to see how many more hard-points could be incorporated into the structure.”

Firelance’s eyes settled upon a mysterious device built into the upper edge of a crested section above the main structure. “What about that thing over there?”

“That’s a mystery to me. Something called a Corona Device, named after Corona no doubt. Her team has been working on a defensive mechanism, purely Equestrian in design. I tried asking her about it, but she insists on keeping it a surprise, saying it would make for an astonishing light show. She did say something about its difficulty in radiation shielding, due to the six cores being housed in the same location, but I didn’t think to ask what she meant.”

“I’d love to see a demonstration of it when it’s ready, that’s for sure.”

Zenith rolled her eyes. “You know you have an unhealthy obsession with weapons, right? No interest in the hangar housing eighty squadrons of strike-craft. Haven’t even batted an eyelid at the fact that larger ships are constructed externally with drones and tethered with unicorn teams. And certainly no comments on the incorporation of various types of crystals in the armour and structure of the ship.”

“Eh? Doesn’t crystal break easily?”

“Some types do, some types don’t. The first type to be used is called the … well, you’d know it as the blue crystal, so I’ll leave it at that. Its atomic structure is so well-structured, so perfect, even the phased disassembler arrays used in construction cannot replicate it.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that per unit of anything, this crystal is tougher than any armour used by the Hiigarans. At least, that I know of. You remember the movers? Even their armour doesn’t come close to this.”

“Whoah. I guess that explains Sombra’s obsession with crystals. So what’s the catch?”

“Well, there is one problematic issue. The Crystal Empire doesn’t have anywhere near enough of the crystal, and growing them takes time, so it needs to be used in combination with another material. That’s one of the things we will need to figure out, but since it isn’t my area of expertise, I can’t really say much here.”

“You mentioned two types of crystals. What’s the other?”

“Oh that’s just a transparent one to be used as the primary material in windows. I don’t recall how strong it is, but it’s not as strong as the blue one. It has a higher resistance to heat, though. The bridge could withstand multiple direct hits from ion cannons with this. Of course, due to vulnerabilities, a command centre at the heart of the ship would be the primary location for combat operations.”

“Alright, you’ve convinced me. Paperwork can be fun sometimes. That has to be a massive job, though. How much will this cost? How long will it take to build? Hay, what’s it going to be used—”

“Slow down there.” Zenith interjected. “I don’t have the answers to all of that. I’m just filing in my share, then passing this off to then next pony responsible. But yes, it will be a massive job. Construction material will be coming in from all over Equestria. Cloudesdale, Manehattan, the Crystal Empire of course. Even the griffons will be pitching in. Though I’ve heard rumours that we might be opening up our Navy to other nations in the near future. Wonder if they’d be contributing, too.”

“Excuse me Mister Firelance,” Fluttershy’s voice came through hesitantly. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but they need you back at your station.”

“What’s going on?” the pegasus looked up at the source of the voice.

“We’re not sure. Rarity has been navigating us through this asteroid field for a while now, following whatever is pulling at us. The more we follow, the stronger the pull gets. The others wanted you back on weapons.”

Firelance looked towards Zenith, who gave him a nudge. “Go. I’ll be fine. I don’t need a foalsitter. Besides, I could do with a little peace and quiet.”

“Alright, I’m ready to go!” Firelance yelled in the bridge’s direction from the primary weapons room nearby. “What do you need from me?”

“We have a station comms link for a reason, ‘Lance,” Soban chided. “Anyway, our interceptor squads are currently scouting around nearby, but this interference is limiting their comms range. I need you to work with them, should anything hostile appear.”

“Sure thing, Mel.”

“We’re coming around the next asteroid now,” Rarity informed the bridge. “This one will be a tight fit, so I have instructed our fleet to follow behind in single file.”

…

Shining Armour frowned. “Dead end?”

“There is an opening near that small pattern of craters. It looks like a crevice, but it’s actually a tunnel that will take us straight through the asteroid and out the other end,” Rarity manipulated the viewscreen to highlight the relevant location. “I should warn you, it’s going to get dark in a moment, so you’ll just have to trust me with instrument navigation.”

“This opening doesn’t look like a natural formation,” Soban examined the electronic reconstruction of the tunnel’s smooth, ovular shape. “Could it be some sort of passageway? No, that’s unlikely. Thousands of years of drifting through space would make such a creation pointless. Doesn’t look like an excavation, either. My only other guess would be … Weapons fire?”

“What weapon could possibly bore a hole large enough for us to fit through?” Shining Armour stared at the tunnel’s walls on the viewscreen, passing by at a slower and slower rate. “Wait, why are we stopping?”

“Interference is atrocious, but there appears to be a keeper nearby,” Rarity stated.

The Captain tensed up. “What? Where? Go to full combat alert! Call back the interceptors! Has it seen us?”

“No, it hasn’t. In fact, it’s lying dormant a few hundred metres from the tunnel exit,” Rarity reassured the bridge crew. “Just to be on the safe side, do I have your permission to engage the cloak generator?”

“Yes, of course.”

“We’re going to have to move out of the asteroid to cloak the rest of our fleet,” Rarity informed the Captain. “That means getting a little closer to the keeper.”

“Do it.”

The rest of the fleet followed behind Harmony, its engines glowing like a beacon in the night. After a short moment, the tunnel grew brighter, until they had exited the asteroid tunnel and resumed their tight spherical formation around Harmony.

“Fleet is cloaked, but … that—” Rarity became speechless.

Shining Armour stared wide-eyed. “Holy sh—”

“Indeed,” Corona shared the same sentiments.

Harmony and its fleet came to a halt, as the crew gawked at what lay ahead of them in what appeared to be a spherical clearing of at least a few hundred kilometres in radius, completely encapsulated by asteroids. Within the empty void, a fog of inactive vessels floated around aimlessly. Thousands of keepers, all asleep, surrounding an ancient behemoth at the very centre.

“Khorsabad,” the Captain whispered. “Corona, send a message to Nabaal and let him know we’ve arrived. Get him here as soon as possible, and make sure you warn him of the keepers.”

Corona nodded. “Will do.”

“We made it, then,” Shining Armour declared.

The Captain shook his head. “Not exactly. Between it and us lie countless keepers.”

“They appear to be inactive,” Shining observed, shrugging.

“Yes. ‘Appear’,” Soban remained sceptical. “Let’s send out a probe and see what happens …”

“Still showing no power fluctuations, movement, or … anything, really,” Corona reported. “These keepers look completely shut off. I’m sure at least one of them would have noticed a probe shooting past them by now.”

“I sure hope you’re right,” Soban sighed. “Prepare the fleet for a short-jump.”

In a split second, the fleet entered hyperspace, emerging much closer to their target, though still at a significant distance from it. Hidden from view, the cloaked fleet advanced, metre by cautious metre, as the crew gritted their teeth each time they slipped past a keeper. Minutes stretched on for what felt like hours, and the crew remained dead silent, as if afraid the keepers might hear them.

As the fleet edged closer to the ancient fortress, its finer details became more defined. Though the superstructure took on a simplistic shape, the intricacies along its surface, plus the large protrusions, weapons, and a multitude of battle scars became much clearer.

“Rarity, are we able to obtain further details on the fortress?”

“Only a basic analysis, Captain,” she replied, deep in thought. “The interference here is by far the worst. I think by now, it is all but confirmed this is the source of the interference. In any case, there appear to be two major parts to Khorsabad. The first consists of a hyperboloid hull, which serves as a base for the eight evenly spaced … objects sticking out at one end. Some sort of pylons, perhaps? Long, thin structures, parallel to the hull. Khorsabad’s total length would be about … twenty-eight kilometres and four hundred metres.”

“Looks like a … giant minigun,” Soban commented.

“I can tell you now that this is no gun, though it certainly did have some powerful defences. With the exception of one of the more damaged pylons, each has its own massive cannon. It should be large enough for you to see, without zooming in. Right there, sitting on the extremities.”

The Captain squinted. “Those are siege cannons! And that missing one? Could that be—”

“Highly probable, given the likely paths that cannon would have drifted. In all likelihood, the missing siege cannon is the very same that found its way to the Somtaaw mining vessel Kuun-Lan. Irrelevant history lesson aside, I’m noticing some sort of residual power that is inconsistent with any kind of device in our data banks. We’d need to get closer to confirm anything, but I believe those extensions are part of the trans-galactic gate.”

“Speaking of the gate, we’re going to have to figure out a way to disable or destroy it. No gate, no Progenitor invasion. Before anything, though, can you locate the sixth core?”

“There appear to be power modules attached to the thinnest point on the hyperboloid section. Among them is the final core. I recommend we get close enough to keep our resource collector cloaked during the entire retrieval process.”

“Agreed. Get the collector ready in the meantime.”

“Green light confirmed, Harmony,” the collector’s pilot responded. “Laying in approach vectors. ETA to the core is twenty seconds.”

“Once you have the core, bring it to the aft section of Harmony and drop it in the empty core bay,” Soban ordered.

“Uhh, which one is the empty one? They all look the same from out here.”

“We will open the external hatch on the right one, once you are in range.”

“Gotcha. Now then, looks like the core is intact. One moment. Need to find a suitable point to latch on to. This might be a little tricky. Looks like it’s still attached to something on the fortress hull. I think I can just yank it away, right?”

“Go ahead. These cores have no external components.”

“Alright, reversing at full burn in three … two … one … Aaaaaand—whoah, that got it! Core number six is ours! Stand by receiving crews.”

“Captain?” Rarity’s voice carried a hint of concern. “I’m not entirely sure if this is a coincidence, or if it had something to do with removing the core, but I’m picking up some energy spikes in the fortress.”

“Can you be a little more specific?”

“You remember the residual energy I noticed earlier? That same energy appears to be building up along one of the fortress’s pylons. Just one so far, but I don’t know if— … Okay, we might have a situation developing here. The gate is moving.”

“That can’t be good. How much time do we have?”

“I—I don’t know.”

Soban hammered his armrest. “Dammit!. Has the sixth core arrived, yet? Where’s Twilight?”

“Both the core and Twilight are here,” one of the engineering crew responded on comms. “We’re making the final adjustments to secure and connect the core, and then Twilight will attempt integration.”

“Make it quick.”

“Sir, I hate to rush you and all, but …” Corona hesitated. “What’s the plan?”

Soban began frantically pacing around the bridge. “I don’t know yet.”

“Another pylon is beginning to build up energy,” Rarity continued reporting. “I’m assuming all eight need to power up, before the gate opens. Based on what I have seen so far, I estimate no more than four minutes, before they are powered up.”

Corona stared expectantly at the Captain, as he came to a halt. “Sir? What do you want us to do?”

Soban looked towards the viewscreen, taking in the view. After a while, he replied, “Nothing.”

“Nothing? But—”

“What do you suggest we do?” Soban snapped. “We have no idea what to expect, and our best option at the moment is to remain cloaked. I’m not entirely convinced the keepers here are truly offline, and if we try bombarding the fortress, we might just wake them. And something tells me if an armada of keepers couldn’t destroy this fortress, then our fleet won’t, either.”

“What about the power modules?” Shining suggested. “Those don’t appear to be heavily armoured. Can’t we just hit those?”

Corona shook her head. “The gate is being powered externally. Likely from wherever the other gate is.”

“Third pylon is charging up,” Rarity reported.

“So we just sit here, and do—”

“Nothing,” Soban finished Corona’s sentence. “The best I can think of at this stage is to let them come through the gate, and get distracted with the keepers. If they survive, we ambush them in their hopefully weakened state. The Elements of Harmony had better be the super-weapon we need.”

“I don’t like this,” Shining Armour grumbled. “One bit. Too many unknowns.”

“Fourth pylon charging up.”

“Hello? Hello, can you hear me?” A new voice entered the bridge.

“… Twilight?” Shining Armour looked around, trying to find the familiar voice.

“Oh, hi brother! I’ve successfully integrated. I cannot even begin to describe how amazing th—”

“Later, Twilight,” the Captain interrupted. “Do you know how to use the Elements? What does it do, and how does it do it?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m still trying to adjust to all the information I’m receiving. I’m guessing my friends and I will just do what we have done in the past.”

“Fifth is charging,” Rarity continued.

“All fleet assets to full combat alert,” Soban ordered. “Scramble all strike-craft and position them in a tight formation around Harmony.”

Corona raised an eyebrow. “I thought we were doing nothing.”

“For the time being. I’ll have to re-evaluate the situation soon.”

“Sixth is charging.”

“Let’s get a little closer to the gate side. I want the Elements tested on the first ship that comes through. Speaking of which … Twilight? Any updates?”

“I don’t know. We’re as ready as we’re going to get. This is just going to be one of those ‘wait and see’ moments, I’m afraid. We’ll be ready to, uhh, fire the Elements when need be, though.”

“Seventh is charging.”

“Here we go. Sound off, fleet!” Soban practically yelled into the comms.

“Destroyer Phoenix, ready.”

“Destroyer Ursa Major, ready.”

“Destroyer Timberwolf, ready.”

“Interceptor squads Lightning one through five, ready.”

“Bomber squads Thunder one though three, ready.”

“Gunship squads Typhoon one though six, ready.”

“Pulsar gunship squads Whirlwind one through five, ready.”

“Eighth charging!”

“Fleet is ready.”

“I’m detecting gate activity!” Corona shouted.

“Destroyers, assume broadside,” the Captain continued issuing orders. “All ships, hold fire.”

In a momentary flash of brilliant gold, the gate surrounded by the pylons erupted with light in a dazzling display, not unlike that of an engine afterburner. Shortly after, multiple tiny, spherical objects shot out in random directions and whizzed around the keepers like a bothersome swarm of flies.

The zipping and buzzing had been more than enough to get the attention of the keepers, and in the blink of an eye, the keepers woke to greet the little shiny spheres with the unrestrained force of their ion-cannons, a laser show of accelerated particles and minuscule explosions.

As quickly as it had all begun, everything settled into silence. The keepers returned to their dormant states, mere moments after the gate of Khorsabad had darkened.

Corona blinked. “What just happened?”

“Those little vessels were nothing more than probes,” Twilight took over reporting. “I detected unencrypted data transmissions from them. After a quick translation, the data was returned through the gate, with identifiers for multiple major vessels. Wow, I learned all that in a matter of minutes? What an opportunity to—oh, sorry. Umm, assuming I understand this transmission correctly, twenty-two command ships have received this transmission.”

“Twenty-two command ships?” Corona squeaked. “How many ships altoge—”

“You said the probes transmitted something back,” Soban cut in. “Does that mean the gate allows passage both ways?”

“It would appear that way, yes,” Twilight concluded. “Why, what are you thinking, Mel?”

“The Progenitors don’t know we are here, do they? I’m thinking I can take the fight to them.”

“Exactly how do we do that?”

“There is no ‘we’ in this one. I need you guys to stay here, in case I fail.”

“What do you mean? Mel? Mel?”

“Destroyer Phoenix, return to Harmony’s construction bay for immediate disembarkation,” Soban terminated communications without waiting for a reply. “Corona, get Midnight up on the bridge. You’re in command until he arrives,” he called back, just as he left the bridge.

As the Captain walked through the weapons room, he caught the attention of Firelance, who scampered off after him. “Oi! Where are you going?”

“’Lance, return to your station.”

“My station be damned! You’re thinking of doing something stupid, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps. I’m going to bait the keepers by piloting a destroyer through the gate.”

“You WHAT? Do you have any idea how—” Firelance paused, processing Soban’s plan. “That might actually work. Surprise those guys and soften them up for us on this side. Maybe buy some more time for the Hiigarans to arrive, too. Alright, then I’m coming with you.”

“No you’re not. I’m not letting—”

“I don’t wanna hear it. How are you going to control an entire destroyer by yourself?”

“With difficulty, but I won’t have to do it for long.”

“And how are you going to defend yourself?” Firelance hovered in front of Soban, blocking his path. “Or what if you need to get the keepers’ attention with something a little more than your visibility? As far as I can tell, you don’t have enough hands to do everything at the same time.”

Soban hesitated. “Are you absolutely certain you know what you’re getting yourself in to?”

Firelance nodded. “Damn right. Now are we gonna get going, or what?”

“Very well. We should be out of here in a few minutes, after Phoenix docks and unloads.”

“Oh, in that case, I just have to take care of one thing first. I’ll meet you in construction!”

“Phoenix, you’re clear of the construction bay,” Spanner announced. “Sure hope you know what you’re doing, Captain.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Soban tapped away on the comms console, before heading back onto navigation. “Alright, ‘Lance, as soon as the gate is just a few seconds from opening again, we give the engines all they have, and leave the cloak field.”

“Gotcha. I’ve targeted twenty-six keepers, so if they don’t start chasing us, we can light ‘em all up!”

“If need be, start with one keeper first. We’ve only got whatever torpedoes are loaded, so they need to count.”

“Right, right. No crew to reload them. Sure thing.”

“Captain? Midnight here. The eighth pylon is charging up. The gate’s about to open again.”

“Thanks, Midnight,” Soban jumped between the comms and engineering consoles, and dragged a finger along the touchscreen slider for engine output. “Here we go, setting drives to ahead flank, aaaaand … we’re out of cloaking range.”

“One more thing, Captain. I— … Forgive my pessimism, but in case you don’t make it back,” Midnight paused. “It has been an honour.”

Soban smiled “Likewise. Been an honour for … well, everything.”

“Two kilometres to the gate,” Firelance called out. “No sign of keeper activity. Should I fire one at the nearest?”

“Do it.”

“Target locked and solution acquired. Firing aft torpedo tube one.”

A momentary hiss echoed through the cabin, followed by an eerie silence, as Soban and Firelance watched the small blip representing their torpedo on their sensors managers. The blip continued to edge closer and closer to a red symbol depicting the targeted keeper, until they merged into one, and accompanied a small flash outside, off in the distance.

The effect was almost instantaneous. En masse, lights across the hulls of the keepers lit up, and they faced the origin of the nuisance that had lobbed the puny torpedo at one of their electronic brethren.

Firelance scoured through the sensors. “Yep, looks like we’ve rattled their cage now. I think that’s all of them, too.”

“Captain, the gate is opening,” Midnight reported. “Good luck.”

“You heard him, ‘Lance,” Soban made the final adjustments to line the destroyer up with the gate. “No backing out now.”

“With you all the way. Not gonna—oh crap, we got drones coming our way.”

“Distance?”

“Nearest group will be in weapons range in a few seconds. We can make it to the gate before the nearest keeper catches up to us, but not the—whoah!” Firelance lost balance, as orbs of plasma splashed against Phoenix. Clambering back up, he zoomed to the engineering console and fastened his five-point harness. “Engines four and five hit! They’re dead!”

Soban ignored the damage, a determined look upon his face. “Just a little more.”

“Second wave of drones entering weapons range!”

A second, more violent shudder sent loose objects flying across the bridge. The warnings that were practically spewing out from the engineering console had become redundant, with the issues Soban and Firelance noticed immediately.

“Damn! All five engines down,” Soban confirmed his feelings with the readouts. “We’re drifting. How far are from the gate, ‘Lance?”

“Six hundred metres, and closing Four hundred. Two hundred. Here we—what the—that was quick. I— …”

Firelance and Soban tensed up at the clusters of unfamiliar vessels in front of them. Twenty-two giant clouds of frigate-sized ships, each surrounding a much larger central vessel. Arranged in a triangular wall, Soban’s eyes found their way almost immediately to the largest one of all, right in the middle of the formation.

“Sajuuk, I presume?” Soban silently laughed at his cliché response. He wondered how confused the Progenitors must have been, to see a foreign ship suddenly emerge, drifting out of their own gate. “Come on, keepers. Now would be a good time to show up,” he muttered.

“Uhh, I’m not sure I’m reading this right, but I think we are being targeted. Not being fired upon. At least, not yet. We got a single ship approaching us at high speed, though. Another one of them probes.”

The tiny, spherical object came to a halt in front of the disabled destroyer and remained stationary for a short while. In an instant, it accelerated and zipped around the destroyer in seemingly random directions, attempting to analyse the foreign vessel.

The probe’s scans had been for nothing, as a hailstorm of plasma rained down upon it, melting and vaporising the sphere into an unintelligible mass of junk. Moments later, swarms of drones zoomed past the destroyer, ignoring it, and opting to pursue the Progenitor fleet instead.

“Whoah!” Soban and Firelance yelled, watching as keepers emerged behind them in countless droves.

From the bridge, the stranded pair could do nothing but watch as the events of the largest known battle unfolded all around them. The sudden appearance of the Progenitors’ greatest enemy had taken them by surprise, as intended. Those mere seconds had been more than enough time for the drones to unleash a collective volley of plasma upon many of the Progenitor warships, destroying their weapons before they could even get the chance to charge up.

The ensuing chaos from the keepers that followed not too far behind had transformed the entire area into a brilliantly lit stage for the deadliest exchange of pyrotechnics and streaks of metal-melting manifestations of light, and as the minutes went by, the entire area transformed into a sea of shrapnel, debris, and multicoloured clouds and plumes of plasma.

“It’s been almost twenty minutes since the last keeper went through the gate,” Fluttershy observed, within the collective consciousness that linked her mind to the other Elements of Harmony. “What—what if something bad happened?”

“I dun’ wanna think about that jus’ yet, sugarcube. You did see how many of them keepers were over here. Wouldn’t be surprised if we’d be waitin’ a good hour. Far as I’m concerned for now, if nothin’ nasty is comin’ through that gate, we should thank our lucky stars,” Applejack gave the timid pegasus a reassuring hug.

“But what about the Captain? And Firelance? There may be a large fight on the other side of that gate, and they would be stuck right in the middle,” Pinkie stated in a tone of seriousness rarely heard from her. “Did you see what those drones did to them before they went through? We can’t even reach them via comms!”

“And we’re sitting here doing nothing! I hate doing nothing!” Rainbow Dash stomped a hoof on the ethereal floor.

“I agree with Rainbow. We can’t leave our friends behind to be stranded and left to fend for themselves,” Twilight stood beside Rainbow Dash. “We owe it to them.”

“But Twilight—”

“I don’t care if Mel ordered us to do nothing,” Twilight waved a frantic hoof. “We’re going to go through that gate, get him out of there, and see if we can’t use the Elements on these invaders. Rarity, Harmony is still under your control. I require access to the navigation and engineering systems.”

“Twilight, please understand—” Rarity pleaded.

“I wasn’t asking!” Twilight growled. “We are NOT leaving him out there!”

“I—but— …” Rarity stammered, taking a step back. “Very well. I relinquish control to you.”

“Rarity! What in tarnation do you think—”

“What’s going on, Rarity?” The distant voice of Midnight came through from the bridge. “Why are we moving? Where are we heading?”

“I’m terribly sorry. Harmony is under Twilight’s control. She intends to send us through the gate.”

“WHAT? Twilight!” Midnight roared. “Now you listen to me! You may have full access to this vessel, but you do NOT do anything without my permission, do you understand? I am in command, and our standing orders are to stay put. Are you listening to me?”

“You can’t expect me to just watch as my friend goes on what could very well be a one-way trip!” Twilight matched Midnight’s volume.

“Yes I can, damn it! Take a step back and look at the situation! Your judgement is being clouded because he is your friend.”

“Just because he isn’t your—”

“As much as I would have welcomed the opportunity, I chose to distance myself. We’re not here to make friends, and you are making a mistake that could cost you your life, the lives of your friends, everypony aboard this vessel, and the entire galaxy! Is that worth two lives?”

“I’m not answering that!” Twilight’s voice quivered.

“Because a part of you knows I am absolutely correct. Twilight, do you know why I was chosen to be the Captain’s second-in-command? Because one of my most defining qualities is my stark objectivity. I see what many others are blind to, and you are completely oblivious to the consequences of your actions! Where’s the guarantee we can come back? What if the gate closes behind us, or one of those Progenitor ships slip through, right when we enter? For all we know, it could be just one Progenitor that’s needed to wipe the galaxy away.”

…

Midnight lowered his voice. “Twilight, I don’t like being the bad guy here, but please don’t put me in a position where I have to manually jettison you and your core. Release Harmony from your control.”

…

“Twilight? Twilight!”

…

Twilight brought the vessel to a stop with a defeated sigh. “You win.”

“I’m sorry, Twilight. Really, I am. All we can do is wait, and hope the only thing that comes out of the gate is Phoenix.”

“Can you see anything, ‘Lance?” Soban scanned his surroundings with the barely functional sensors.

Firelance searched visually from the windows. “Nothing. There’s so much junk flying around, I can’t tell what’s what. The only thing I can be sure of is that the worst of the battle is over.”

“Yeah. Either it’s over, or there’s just a mopping up.”

“If so, who do you think is doing the mopping up?”

“I don’t know. Both sides seemed evenly matched. The keepers had the numbers, but the Progenitors seemed to pack more firepower. Hey, have you had any luck getting comms back online?”

“Ahh, I tried following the repair manual, but I’m still not getting anything. I’m not sure if it’s my lousy repair work, or something else.”

Soban stared absent-mindedly at a distant cloud of plasma from a Progenitor ship torn clean in half. “I wouldn’t be surprised if this debris is blocking our signals.”

“Well, what now? Will our oxygen run out first, or the rations?”

“Hmm … How sure are you that we are safe?”

“Uhh, kinda sorta? Why?”

“We’ve done our part here. I think it’s time we returned to our galaxy, don’t you? You know how to use a PDA?”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

“Guess it’s time to learn.” Soban made for the bridge exit. Looking back, he saw Firelance still seated. “Well, come on. You should know what a phased disassembler array is by now. It’s the device used in everything, from extracting resources in asteroids, to constructing ships.”

The pegasus trotted alongside Soban. “Oh, PDA! I get it. Yeah, I knew that one.”

“Right, well in case of damage, there are automated systems and small repair drones aboard the larger vessels, such as this destroyer. While they can handle light damage, more severe damage such as, oh I don’t know, getting your engines destroyed, is another matter.”

“Wait, ho—hold on a sec! You’re not suggesting we go outside and fix it ourselves, are you?”

“It’s either that, or we stay stuck out here.”

“Great. Alright, fine, what do I have to do?”

“Here, take a PDA,” Soban handed Firelance a device that consisted of a large back-mounted canister, connected to a hand or hoof-held gun-like apparatus. “They’re pretty simple to use. That switch just above and to the side of the grip selects whether you are shooting out material, or sucking it in. Construction and destruction, if you will. The latter is mainly for clearing away debris, or filling up the tank with resources. Or when you make a mistake.”

“A’ight, and this dial next to it?”

“Simply put, it controls the speed at which material is ejected or broken down. That’s really all you need to know. Don’t worry about that touchscreen there. That changes the type of material for construction. Leave it as it is. Just squeeze the trigger to start it, and whatever you do, don’t touch the matter stream if you wish to keep your limbs intact.”

“This feels awkward to hold.”

“Hey, don’t look at me, those devices were designed for hooves. If anything, it’s going to be awkward for me to use,” Soban picked up another PDA and tested it out with relative ease. “Or maybe not.”

“Good for you, Captain Fingers. Alright, what now?”

“I think there are still some suits around here that fit me. You should suit up as well. Unless of course, you want to do what Pinkie did.”

Firelance’s eye twitched at the memory of pulling Pinkie out from the flak cannon aboard Manaan after leaving the atmosphere for the first time.

Firelance floated along behind Soban, as the pair skimmed the surface of Phoenix’s hull. “Shouldn’t one of us have stayed aboard? You know, in case something comes?”

“If something comes, we’re dead, anyway,” Soban replied nonchalantly.

“Oh, that’s comforting. And what if the airlock closes on us and locks us out?”

“Even if our technology is that unreliable, we can always PDA our way through. Destroy the external door, enter airlock, crudely reconstruct a door or seal behind us, and continue with normal re-compression.”

“That’s a relief, then. Now, uhh, where do we start with this mess? How in the hay are we supposed to repair this damage?”

“Thankfully, we don’t have to do anywhere near that much. What we’re going to do is construct the major framework for the engines, and then we can get the repair drones to finish the rest. Normally, this is a precise art, but the engines can remain quite functional with amateur work, so observe what I do on this part of the engine, then start working on another part. Once we finish here, we move on to the next engine. Oh, and keep away from the repair drones. They will automatically repair each section as we meet the minimum requirements for them.”

“And exactly how long is this going to take?”

“I’m quite rusty with repair work, myself, so my guess would be about two and a half hours.”

Firelance let out a rather feminine squeak.

“And that’s only for two engines. We just need enough to get back to the gate. We’re probably going to have to add a little extra time onto that, since our oxygen supply won’t last long enough to fix everything up in one go.”

Firelance cast a worried look towards the giant gate, still glowing in the distance with its portal back home. “You think the gate will stay open for that long?”

“I don’t want to stick around to find out. The best thing to do now is to focus on getting the engines ready. Now watch closely. Assuming no coolant leaks, this is how we begin reforming the engine base …”

Midnight stood motionless at the centre of the bridge, his gaze unwavering as he waited and hoped for a response. “Destroyer Phoenix, respond,” he repeated every few minutes. Midnight had long since lost count of how many times he sent the same message through the gate, only to receive faint static as a reply.

A weak sigh escaped his lips, as he felt a hoof on his withers. Shining Armour smiled weakly beside him, with a large thermos levitating into view. “Thought you could use a bit of coffee. Goodness knows you’re too stubborn to relieve yourself of extended duty during times like this, so there’s no point arguing with you.”

“Can you blame me?” Midnight graciously downed the potent, bitter fluid in a few large gulps. “Thanks. Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Go right ahead.”

“How long do you think we can wait, before we have to call it quits? At what point would it be acceptable to just …” he trailed off, letting out a frustrated groan.

“To just give up?” Shining Armour offered.

“Yeah,” Midnight said dryly. “I hate that term.”

“I don’t think anypony could answer that. Ideally, I’d say we should wait until the gate closes permanently, but realistically speaking, I don’t think we’d know when, or even if that time will come. And like you said before, we don’t even know if they are alive. The longer the gate stays open, the longer we risk other things coming through.”

Midnight remained silent, opting to massage his temples instead. “I hate being right all the time. Even I don’t like what I say. I have great respect for your sister for what she was about to do, you know, regardless of whether or not it was the right move, or the right thing to do.”

“Midnight, you and I have been in the military long enough to know those aren’t always one and the same. It tears me up inside just as much as I’m sure it does for you, but … I guess that’s life. Anyway, have we made any progress figuring out what to do with the gate?”

“A few of the officers have come up with some ideas, but we’ve shot most of them down, simply because they are impossible tasks to achieve. Ultimately they all end the same way. That is, the permanent closure of the gate. I just hope Phoenix makes it back before we find a plan that’s doable. If we find one that’s doable.”

“Me too, Midnight.”

“Hey, we got activity here!” Corona suddenly spoke up.

“Something at the gate?” Midnight shot back into his seat.

“No, I’m detecting many sensory anomalies,” Corona clarified. “Hiigarans. Decloaking.”

Harmony’s viewscreen panned just in time to display a section of empty space in which an armada of Hiigaran vessels faded into view. Frigates, destroyers, carriers, a line of battlecruisers, and in the middle of them all, Nabaal’s Shipyard. Squadrons upon squadrons of strike-craft poured out of the carriers shortly after, and assumed a defensive formation around the two fleets.

Nabaal’s transmission came through shortly after. “We got your message, Harmony. How can we be of assistance? We were told there was a large fleet of keepers here.”

“This is second-in-command Midnight Oil,” the grey stallion announced. “Captain Soban used himself as bait and led several thousand keepers through the gate to weaken or possibly neutralise the invading force. However, we have been unable to establish communications thus far and are unsure of how to proceed.”

“That sounds like something he’d do. I assume the uncertainty lies in deciding whether to destroy the gate, given your Captain is still on the other side, yes?”

Midnight nodded. “That’s one half of it. The other issue is that we don’t actually know how to disable or destroy it. The gate is not powered from this side, and the armour on the fortress appears to be impenetrable.”

“I’m starting to regret having our old dreadnought dismantled for phased cannon research. Hmm.” Nabaal paused, thoughts rushing through his mind. “Alright, can you transfer all relevant data on the fortress? I need to know what we’re dealing with before we do anything.”

“So … tired …” Firelance dragged himself onto the bridge. “Legs feel like jelly.”

Soban collapsed into his seat. “Come on, the worst is behind us.”

“Better be. I can’t stand to move anymore. Or stand at all.”

“Just need to start the engines up, and hopefully we can get going. Can you monitor the engine instruments while I start each one up?”

“Yeah. Just tell me where the engi—oh, found them. Right, go ahead.”

“Here goes. Engine one startup sequence in three … two … one …”

A faint whine reverberated throughout the cabin and gradually built up in intensity, as the left-most engine activated with its new-found life. While Soban fine-tuned several engine parameters, Firelance monitored the readouts, watching as the dials crept slowly up towards the green ranges.

“Idle coolant temperature at one-seven-three and rising fast,” Firelance called out, watching the relevant indicator peak shortly after. “Coolant pressure is low, but if I recall, that engine had a major coolant leak. Vibration is borderline caution, but still in the green. I think this one’s good to go. Hopefully the coolant system holds out.”

“Excellent. We’ll run it for another ten or twenty seconds, just until the readings stabilise, and then I’ll start the second—Firelance, did you see that?”

The pegasus looked up from his screens. “See what?”

“I … don’t know,” Soban frowned, his eyes shifting around the debris field. “I thought I saw a—a shadow, or something?”

“Keepers?”

“Not sure. Could be. Or something worse. We should leave as soon as we can. Starting the next engine …”

Another whine from the destroyer’s aft faded in, accompanied by an unexpected light rumbling. Worriedly, Firelance darted his eyes between the engine readouts, and like Soban, at random pockets of debris outside.

“You feel that vibration, ‘Lance? Engine status?”

“I—uh … Vibration is in the upper caution range, but nothing else appears to be out of the ordinary.”

“Let’s hope we don’t tear the engine off, then,” Soban punched in some numbers on navigation, and moved to the engineering console. “Setting course for the gate. Approximately four minutes until—THERE, Firelance! There!”

“What? What where?” Firelance bolted towards the window where Soban pointed.

Soban groaned. “It’s Sajuuk!”

Firelance unleashed a barrage of profanities. “What’s it doing?”

“I don’t know. I think—Damn it, it’s heading for the gate.”

“Oh for fu—Any other ships with it?”

“I’m … not sure. Something is following right behind it. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was towing something,” Soban withdrew from the window and looked at the navigation readouts. “How much time do we … Okay, some good news. We should get to the gate about fifteen seconds before they do.”

“Will fifteen seconds be enough to warn Harmony?”

“Hopefully, if our comms actually work. Let’s just hope the Elements can fire fast enough.”

“Assuming we get there intact. A fifteen-second distance would surely have us in their weapons range, no?”

“We have no other option. Punch it!”

It was only as the destroyer approached the gate, that Soban and Firelance noticed the similarities between this gate, and the one in their galaxy. As they got closer, Firelance focused on the thinnest part of the gate’s structure.

“I think I might have an idea. Aren’t those the power modules?” Firelance pointed. “They look the same as the ones in our galaxy, anyway.”

“What about them?”

“I overheard that the gate on our side was externally powered. I’m going to guess this gate is that external power. You think we can dump all our tubes on the power modules? If we time it right, we should be able to get through the gate before the torpedoes hit—”

“… Allowing us to get through, and Sajuuk to be trapped!” Soban’s face lit up in excitement. “Brilliant! ‘Lance, take my place and keep her on course. I’ll have to set a custom flightpath for the torpedoes over on weapons.”

After a momentary flurry of fingers across the side-screen at the weapons station, the destroyer’s torpedo tubes once again burst open, revealing the nose cones of the remaining twenty-five torpedoes. Approaching from one angle, while Sajuuk approached from another, the two ships drew closer and closer, racing to the finish line.

“We’re in Sajuuk’s weapon range,” Firelance observed. “No incoming fire, and no phased cannon charging detected. Yet.”

Soban stood ready to fire the torpedoes. “Okay, this last half minute will determine our fates. Whatever happens to us, we’ll make sure the gate closes.”

“Oh, oh, wait! I wanna press the big red button as well!” Firelance galloped towards Soban, and the weapons station. “Ahem. If you’ll excuse my cheesy statement … For Equestria!” he flipped up the covering and hovered his hoof over the button.

Soban shrugged, and placed his hand atop Firelance’s hoof. “For Hiigara. And the Whirlpool Galaxy.”

At an exchange of nods, the two pushed down. A multitude of hissing noises followed, as the torpedoes shot out and followed their pre-programmed courses towards the external components that kept the gate alive.

“Excuse me, Midnight?” Twilight’s voice entered the bridge hesitantly.

“Mmm?”

“I …” Twilight sighed. “I’ve been working with some of Nabaal’s crew and looking at possible ways we could shut the gate down. I believe we’ve found a way. You’re not going to like it, though.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“We’ve already established we can’t destroy Khorsabad from the outside, but there is a high probability we can do so from the inside.”

“You’re suggesting we send in a crew to place demolitions?” Midnight raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t we already rule out marine frigate insertion and teleportation?”

“No, that’s not what I was getting at. We should be able to completely overload the fortress systems using a massive burst of power from one of our hyperspace cores.”

“That … makes sense. Alright, so what’s the catch?”

“Are you familiar with the consequences of collapsing a quantum wave-field?”

“If I remember correctly from Hiigaran history, it results in an explosion so large, that nearby ships must hyperspace to safety.”

“Exactly. I’ve run some simulations, and the outcome should be an internal detonation of Khorsabad. Everything inside would vaporise from the sheer core power, resulting in enough pressure to cause the armour to essentially burst open.”

“And what of the core and its occupant? Surely the—is that what I think it is? Corona?”

“Gate activity!” Corona yelled. “Something’s coming through! It’s Phoenix!”

“Ha! The Captain made it!” Shining Armour thrust a hoof in the air.

Corona squinted. “Uhh, is that normal? Why is the gate flickering like—”

“Harmony, if you’re reading us, get the fleet ready!” Soban’s voice cracked through his battered comms. “We might have company.”

“Been ready ever since you left,” Midnight felt the beginnings of a smile he could scarcely recall having in a long time. “Welcome back. Construction bay is free for you to dock. Oh, and your friends are here too, if you haven’t noticed.”

“What … is … THAT?” Corona’s face turned into a mix of fear and horror.

Through the gate’s violent flickering, the front-most tip of Sajuuk emerged, with its menacing beak-like protrusion that housed the all-too-familiar weapon capable of instantly boring a hole clean into the toughest of ships. The tan-coloured hull continued to materialise and force its way out. Half-way through, the hull colour made way for a single vertical red stripe; the simple, yet striking insignia of the Progenitor race.

Harmony’s fleet, still cloaked, remained locked on to the newcomer. Every turret tracked the ship of a being who fancied himself a god. The Hiigaran fleet, Midnight noticed, had also engaged their cloak generators and likely followed suit in tracking the invader.

Soban watched with loathing from his limping vessel, as the last part of Sajuuk slid out of the gate. The unmistakable triangular section came next, containing empty pits, all hungry for the hyperspace cores of legend. Harmony’s cores.

Yet just as the pits arrived through the gate, the portal to the Progenitor galaxy dissipated abruptly and went dark. Sajuuk ceased to move of its own accord and began to drift. Its engines had not come through, leaving a gaping hole in the back of the vessel where loose objects and alien beings vented out along with their atmosphere.

Soban saw this, just as his destroyer slid inside Harmony’s construction bay. Seizing this opportunity in a flash, he gave the orders. “Midnight! Give it all we’ve got!”

“With pleasure, Captain. All fleet assets, engage Sajuuk, formation foxtrot!”

“You heard him, guys!” Nabaal yelled. “Show Sajuuk what Hiigarans are made of!”

The fleets charged in, assuming a spherical formation around the crippled vessel, holding nothing back. Though largely ineffective against the toughened armour of Sajuuk, they gradually chipped away at the behemoth’s exterior, faster than the ship’s advanced repair systems could compensate.

“Hey, does anypony else see what I’m seeing?” one of the interceptor pilots wondered, as he weaved between the short-range nanite cannon defence weapons, and allowed his copilot to absorb other strikes with his shield. “Sajuuk looks like it’s turning, and I don’t think it’s from drift. Something tells me that—uhh, Harmony? Move! Fast!”

Midnight’s eyes widened. “Oh crap! Corona! Manoeuvre us clear of that firing arc! All fleet assets, be advised! Sajuuk is still partially operational. Assume phased cannon array is online. We—Captain!” he turned around as he heard Soban’s frantic footsteps approaching. “About time you showed up!”

“Twilight!” Soban yelled. “Now’s as good a time as any for the Elements!”

“We’ll need a few seconds to get ready,” the lead Element replied.

Corona quickly cut in, “I’ve set a course for Harmony, but it’s only going to buy us a few more seconds. We’re too far out to outmanoeuvre Sajuuk.”

“Hurry, Twilight!” Soban shouted. “You heard Corona!.”

“Sajuuk’s firing arc approaches!” Corona began to sweat. “Fifteen seconds until we are in its sights.”

“The Elements are ready to fire in ten seconds,” Twilight informed the bridge. “We’re waiting for the cores to charge up.”

A pool had developed underneath Corona. “Five seconds on Sajuuk! Power surge detected aboard it. They’re charging the phased cannon!”

“Elements of Harmony charged. Here goes nothing. Beware, I have no idea what this will do,” Twilight warned.

Sajuuk had only charged its cannon half-way when Harmony rumbled loudly from within. The entire ship seemed to glow and turn spectral, until the light that emanated from the very skin of the vessel became blindingly blue-white. Time itself may have frozen at that moment, as a raging tsunami of translucent rainbow light pulsed out in every direction.

The pulse had travelled straight through the ships in Harmony’s and Nabaal’s fleets, and raced towards Sajuuk. With bated breath, the crew could only stare at the wavy flow of energy that drew closer and closer to the hostile super-weapon.

As with the others, the pulse passed through Sajuuk, unimpeded.

“What just happened?” Soban blinked. “Twilight?”

“I—I’m not sure.”

“The Elements did nothing!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Captain,” Midnight pointed at the viewscreen. “Sajuuk should have fired by now. We should be dead already.”

Soban frowned. “You’re right. What is—”

“Hey, what happened to our weapons?” one of Nabaal’s ships radioed in.

“Yeah, ours are down, too,” Timberwolf followed. “Systems are fried beyond repair. Only weapons, though.”

“Oh, I think I see now!” Twilight exclaimed. “Elements of Harmony! It’s a weapon against weapons! Anything nearby will permanently lose weapons capabilities. We don’t appear to be affected, though.”

“Our interceptors seem to be unaffected, too,” Soban observed the small mass of fighters swarming over the now disabled Sajuuk.

“Maybe it only affects large ships?”

“The bombers aren’t firing,” Shining Armour added, noting a distinct lack of blue plasma orbs being lobbed by the other fighters.

“I don’t have an explanation for everything!” Twilight huffed.

“Well, Sajuuk has been neutralised. That’s good enough for me. Let’s finish this,” Soban ordered.

Harmony’s ion-cannon turrets centred, and the shrill cry of four ion-beams sounded once more, as they raked across the Progenitor warship. Countless times, this process was repeated, but the more the weapons crew fired, the more they came to realise that their attempts proved to be ineffective as the sole weapons-capable capital ship on the battlefield.

Soban frowned. “We’re not getting anywhere with this. Sajuuk has the fastest self-repair systems I have ever seen. We’ve tried concentrating fire on one point, and the repair systems fix it up within half a minute!”

“That’s not thing only thing it’s repairing,” Corona added. “I’m seeing power spikes in the phased cannon array.”

“Damn, we need the Elements again. Twilight!” the Captain shouted.

“Way ahead of you. Give us a few seconds.”

Once again, Harmony found itself in its temporary spectral state, as another pulse raced away, and cleansed Sajuuk of its violent capabilities.

“We can’t keep doing this forever, Mel,” Twilight stated. “This will completely exhaust us if we repeat this a few more times.”

“And we can’t call in further reinforcements,” Shining Armour concluded. “They’ll end up powerless as well.”

“We have another problem,” Rarity joined in. “It looks like the gate might be powering up again. I’m detecting another energy buildup on one of the pylons.”

“What? Oh, perfect!” Soban scowled. “And we just destroyed our fleet’s combat capabilities as well!”

Midnight looked up at the loudspeaker on the ceiling. “Twilight, what was it you were saying before about destroying the fortress with one of the cores? You mentioned an explosion so large that we’d have to hyperspace to safety, yes? Would the explosion be large enough to destroy Sajuuk in the process?”

“More than enough. There is that catch I was trying to get to, though. One of us will have to be present in the core to initiate the detonation. While the core can survive the explosion relatively intact, I have no idea if the occupant can survive.”

“We have no choice. We are out of time, and out of ideas.” Midnight rose from his heat and rushed out of the bridge.

“Now wait just a moment, Midnight!” Soban caught up to the grey stallion. “I’m not going to send any of our core mares to their possible deaths!”

“You won’t have to. I volunteer myself.”

“That’s just as bad, Midnight! Besides, you’re not an Element.”

“According to Twilight, the theory is that the Elements merely amplify the characteristic the core’s occupant represents. They are at their most responsive and powerful states when the wielder shows defining qualities of an Element. I choose the honesty core. Applejack, disconnect from your core immediately. Captain, call back all strike-craft, get Harmony as close to Khorsabad’s power module latch points, and drop me off there. Then get our fleet, and the Hiigarans to safety. Hurry, before Sajuuk repairs its cannon again!”

“I can’t let you do this, Midnight.”

“Hey! You try to stop me, and I will knock you out. We have no choice. Now go! Do your job, so I can do mine!”

Captain Soban watched as the gate of Khorsabad revived. “We’re out of time! The gate is opening! What’s your progress, Midnight?”

“I’m almost in place. ETA is thirty seconds,” Midnight replied, as he and his core slowed to a crawl, and began the final process of attaching to the fortress. “Whatever comes through that gate, you’ll need to hold them off long enough.”

“Understood, Midnight.”

Several destroyer-sized ships emerged and immediately spread out. Pulses of energy shot out from them in random directions, shooting blindly until one stray round fried Harmony’s cloak generator. Visible, the newcomers now faced their targets, and from underneath their hulls, a large plasma cannon on each ship charged and hurled their high-temperature payloads at random ships.

Seeing this, the still-cloaked Hiigaran ships manoeuvred between Harmony’s fleet, and the Progenitors, acting as crude meat-shields, but not before several large blobs of plasma found their way onto Harmony. In an instant, plumes of smoke and atmosphere were visibly venting from the rear of the vessel. The force had been powerful enough to hurl Corona out of her seat and up to the ceiling, before she fell into a crumpled heap beside her station.

Soban steadied himself after the violent quake. “Get a medic up here! Shining, our cloak is down. Bring your shield up, then get me a ship report from Corona’s station?”

With a flick of his horn, Shining brought up his shield, then galloped toward the unconscious mare. Picking her up, he wrapped a hoof around Corona and secured himself to her station, before looking through the unfamiliar interfaces for the information Soban needed. “Catastrophic damage to the engine and cloak generator compartments. Engines are barely functional, but the cloak generator is damaged beyond repair. Reports are still coming in on crew injuries. Some sound serious. The rest of the fleet isn’t faring too well, either.”

“Harmony, I’ve established a connection to the fortress,” Midnight’s voice quivered slightly. “Get the hay out of here, now!”

“Midnight, I just want to say– … What’s wrong with comms?”

“I think the transmitter is out,” Shining confirmed on the damage report. “Yeah, we’re only able to receive.”

“No, damn it!” the Captain swore.

“We need to jump—”

“Fine, fine, engage hyperspace.”

Harmony’s retreat had been a silent affair. Emerging well clear of the blast zone alongside the Hiigaran fleet, all they could do was wait until the initial radiation had dispersed into safer levels. With no reason to remain, Captain Soban informed the Hiigaran fleet they were free to return to Hiigara for repairs.

“All we can do now is wait for a few minutes,” Corona stated.

Soban did not reply. Instead, he read through a list of crew sent by the chief medic, indicating all injuries. Many of the injuries included broken bones and concussions. Several were temporarily listed as missing, until the core mares rapidly located the remaining trapped, unconscious, or otherwise injured crew.

Shining Armour broke the Captain out of his daze. “Oh, right, I forgot to show this to you when we jumped out, as we were a little distracted, but just before we left we received an audio message. From Midnight. Would you like me to play it?”

Soban merely nodded.

“Greetings, Harmony. I hope I am able to record what may be my final thoughts and send them out before you guys disappear, so here goes …

It’s quite surreal, really. Floating about in this little room, sucking in every little detail of my surroundings, while pondering both my impending doom, and … Well, this will sound silly, but also the meaning of life.

I suppose I should apologise for my actions. I know you’d consider me to be the first to have given my life under your command, but if it makes you feel better, it was my choice and mine alone. You bear no responsibility for the decision I had made. Believe me, if we had time and alternatives, I’d have jumped at those opportunities, but hey!

There’s a lot about my life most don’t know about, but suffice it to say I never found fulfilment in anything before you came crashing down in a metal fireball those many months ago. I have lived and seen more in my short time under your command, than I have in the rest of my life, and as I remain alone here, at peace with my final deed, I can take comfort in the fact that most have never experienced as much as I have. What our crew have. Yet as I watch your hyperspace windows consume you all, only four words come to mind as I channel this device’s energy into the fortress …

I have no regrets.”

“Hyperspace successful,” Corona reported, having insisted on returning to her post immediately after regaining consciousness.

“Sitrep, Corona,” the Captain requested.

“It worked. The quantum wave-field collapse consumed the fortress and Sajuuk in its blast. Only a few remains of the fortress are registering. Even the surrounding asteroids seem to have been vaporised.”

“What of the core? Midnight?”

“Scanning … The core is drifting away from the blast zone on heading zero-one-one mark zero-seven-niner. Shall I input short-jump coordinates to intercept it?”

“Do it. Prepare our collector while you’re at it. If you need me, message me through engineering. I’ll be waiting in the core section.”

“Collector one approaching drop-off zone. Stand-by receiving crews.”

“Acknowledged,” the chief engineer replied. “Core signature recognised. Guidance lock responding.”

“I have a visual on the external hatch opening,” the collector pilot observed. “Awaiting release.”

“Guidance lock confirmed. Release when ready.”

At precisely the right position above the narrow hatch, the collector released the core and nudged it ever so slightly, allowing it to descend at a safe rate. With precision, the core fit inside, and the external hatch sealed the area off, allowing the space to be re-pressurised for Harmony’s crew. As the core approached the bottom, several couplings from all angles took hold of the core, securing it in place for various connections to Harmony, while pressure seals allowed the space to be filled with air.

The instant the connecting walkway attached to the entrance of the core, a pair of medics rushed past the Captain and disappeared into the bowels of the device. Soban followed suit, though at a much slower pace.

Eventually he navigated his way through the core and arrived in the small room where Midnight should have been. Upon noticing his arrival, the medics briefly looked up at Soban, before one of them simply shook his head without uttering a single word.

The Captain slowly approached the area where the medics sat and knelt down beside them, staring at the floor, where a pony-shaped covering of soot barely stood out against the already darkened ground.

“At least it was quick,” one medic finally broke the silence. “Probably felt nothing.”

“Anything we can do for you, Captain?” the other turned to face Soban.

“No, I— … Gather his remains. Just—just give me a few minutes alone, please.

The medics nodded and mounted their side-bags, leaving the room and disappearing into the shadows of the dim corridor outside.

Soban waited a moment longer, staring at the ground. “You did it, Midnight. Your plan worked.”

He paused again, taking a deep breath and sighing. “I should be celebrating this victory. We all should. Nothing this big has happened since the Beast War, and even that pales in comparison to what you did today. And yet—” he choked, feeling the beginnings of tears welling up.

“And yet I can’t celebrate,” he continued, dabbing an eye with his sleeve. “Not for this. Without the one responsible, it just doesn’t feel right.”

Soban took another pause, allowing his shaky breathing to pass, and his quivering voice to steady.

“I got your message, by the way. Made me reminisce over these months. You know, back before all this started, I had my life with my Kiith. Was like an extended family. But I realised the longer I spent with all of you, the more I started to question who my real family actually is.”

“Of course, by blood, I am undoubtedly Sobani, but during my short time here and on your planet, I can only say that you are all my family. My Kiith. Fierce, loyal companions. The Sobani warriors couldn’t hold a candle to all of you.”

Soban rose to his feet. “But, I have experienced enough death, be it the Vaygr, Raiders, the entire Kadeshi race, my Hiigaran comrades, or your own. It is not a way of life I enjoy, nor agree with. After all this time, I think it is only appropriate that I do this …”

With that, Captain Soban placed his right hand on his left shoulder patch; the insignia of his Kiith. He took a moment to prepare himself, before tearing the patch off, along with part of his uniform. He stared at the piece of fabric in his hands, then gently laid it atop Midnight’s remains, satisfied with the ancient ritual that signified the abandonment of his Kiith.

“You said you had no regrets. Perhaps I can find solace in that. My regret, though? My regret is that I never took the time to know you better.”

No longer Melarn Soban of Kiith Soban, the Equestrian Captain paid his final respects and left.

A crowd had gathered by the time Soban emerged from the core. Amongst them, Soban noticed, were Twilight and her friends, freshly disconnected from their cores, if Twilight’s futile attempts to conceal her nauseous state were any indication. Ignoring the crowd, the Captain made his way back up to the bridge.

“Engineering reports our hull breaches have been repaired sufficiently to safely allow for an extended journey through hyperspace,” Corona reported. “And we already know what happened in the core bays. Word already spread about Midnight’s … about Midnight. I wish I had the words to—”

“He gave his life to save a galaxy,” Soban maintained composure. “No words could do him justice. To stand alone against a being long since revered as a god, and a fleet intended to wipe us all out. But thanks to Midnight, it’s all over,” he sunk into his seat. “Let’s head home, Corona. To Equestria.”