Carry On

Commander Caius, second XO of the Morning Star, found herself gazing out at the emptiness of space, the twinkling stars in the distance faint and nearly out of sight. She had the ‘night’ shift of the ship, when Commander Nurman was asleep. The lights were dim, and a strange sort of eerie serenity had fallen over the spacecraft. The bridge was being run by a skeleton crew pumped up on energy drinks and coffee.

A deep calm had settled over the entirety of the city-like supercruiser. The hustle and bustle of the waking hours of the majority of the crew was gone. It was the ESF's idea of saving room--instead of having a full-to-bursting platform, a regular day/night cycle was run and less ponies were required to run the same number of systems. A mildly clever idea; one of the few the idiots in R&D had.

Caius yawned. Just a few more hours and Nurman would come back and take over. In the meantime, she absently absorbed the impeccable beauty and deadliness of space. Again...

In the undisturbed silence, a sudden beep from the sensor console shocked everyone from their dozing. The ensign at the station scrambled to check the readings.

“Unidentified ship on station, about thirty thousand kilometers aft. It matches nothing in our database... Holy shit,” he exclaimed, “it’s massive! At least five kilometers long and closing fast.”

Commander Caius had been looking over his shoulder. She turned back and glanced at the empty tiers of chairs, searching for the comm station. “Hail it,” she ordered to the lieutenant. Hopefully it wasn't hostile, but anything that big out here really had to be. There was no way they were pirates, not with a ship almost as large as an ESF dreadnought. Aliens were a possibility; though they were within Federation space. Hell, damn near the whole galaxy was Federation space (though the Morning Star was on one of the edges). However, there wasn't a whole lot else they could be.

While she didn't want to fuck up a contact with an alien species, if they attacked the ship she would have no choice but to defend. Defense, though, didn't really seem viable when she was outgunned by a large factor. Buying time for escape? That was the best she could think of. It was the least she could do.

“Yes ma’am," the communications officer snapped the Commander out of her musings.

“Power up systems and load weapons. I don’t want a fight but we might not be able to avoid it,” Caius told the gunner. "Wake the crew. Have the Wings of Harmony ready to launch," she said to no one in particular; the pony who had the responsibility would get it done.

Briskly, Caius motioned for the comm officer to raise the Wings of Harmony. After a few seconds, a head appeared on the main screen.

"What is it, ma'am?" the CO of the Wings of Harmony, Lieutenant Commander Trotsky, asked.

"Trotsky, we've got an unknown and suspected hostile ship inbound. it's gonna be another first contact, but from the looks of it it could turn ugly. I want you and the flotilla ready to go at a moment's notice. In fact, detach from the cradle when ready. Get down to the surface if you can, get the Captain, and hide. If we are killed, run. Copy?" Caius ran through her priorities quickly, trying not to ignore her duty in fear.

The LC held his position for a moment, a worried look on his face. "I copy," he finally replied, simply and evenly. "We'll see you on the other side, ma'am."

For about three minutes she distributed orders in this fashion, to a chorus of ‘yes ma’am’ and ‘roger that ma’am.’ The crew up here was all business. In moments the engines hummed to full power. A deep vibration echoed out as the supercruiser's resident light destroyer, Wings of Harmony, unlocked from its cradle under the ship, along with the flotilla of corvettes and light frigates that accompanied it.

Once again the sensor officer piped up. “It’ll be on top of us in ninety seconds.”

“No response to the hails,” the communications pony added.

Caius told her to start the warning sirens. Wakey wakey, she thought. If anything she wanted to buy a little time for a retreat to escape pods and shuttles. With that, she ordered a full one-eighty to face the enemy. It seemed certain, now, that it was an enemy; considering it did not reply and was still closing fast. She wondered how long they could hold out.

The Morning Star was a supercruiser. At nearly half the cost and size it crammed in the haymaker swings of a dreadnought into a remarkably fast, manuverable frame. In a straight fight, she could go toe-to-toe with nearly anything (up to an actual dreadnought) within the fleet. However, her armor was a little bit shaky. Clever design let her take a pounding; but she'd still crack eventually. Probably sooner than expected.

The unknown ship was now visible in the viewport. Indeed, it was huge; three times the size of the Morning Star at least. It had a strange shape to it, like it was very barebones; armor did not seem to be a primary concern.

“Thirty seconds until collision,” the sensor officer notified. Barely even taking another breath, he yelled out "Enemy fire incoming! Brace!" A laser jumped out and snapped around the Morning Star like a whip. The shields held against the probe, but it did shake up the craft a little.

No time for thought now. “Fire!” Caius yelled. A deep rumble echoed throughout the ship; the gigantic railgun that made the ship so imposing let loose a volley. Before the rounds had even left the space-ballista, another stream of lasers broke forth from the now assuredly hostile craft. “Divert all excess power to engines. Put us right under them!” Thrusters fired and the two ships barely missed one another. The unknown rammed right into the slugs of the railgun, but it passed too close for any sort of visual damage assessment to take place.

"Take us around, hard to port!" The engines flared once more and there it was, the enemy ship on a course to sling around the far side of Equus. Turning had just left the right flank open. Shit, Caius cursed herself.

"Forty five degrees starboard! Anything we have to the engines!" Caius had an idea. Once the ship had rotated, she continued. "Full throttle! Move us over the pole!" Unquestioningly, the crew complied.

Now the enemy was zinging around behind them. In only a minute they'd be back around; invariably following a similar path as the attacker, due to the gravity of Equus.

However, once the Morning Star had come about, nothing but emptiness greeted them. The same cold, dreary beauty of the stars, burning white hot, alone in the dark. It was as if the hostile had simply vanished, and left nothing but a speckled vision of darkness in its wake.

"Scan for it," the Commander said to the sensor officer.

Minutes passed by in absolute silence. Where the hell had it gone?

The Morning Star began to retreat back into its slow orbit of Equus, finding nothing.

BOOM. A shudder rocked the craft, and with a crackle and what Caius would have sworn was a snap of fingers, the lights went out.

"Shields down! Engines are failing, weapons aren't responding," someone cried out.

"I'm in the dark too, ma'am," the sensor officer called out. "Nothing."

Something was about to happen, of that Caius was sure. "Release the Wings of Harmony." The order was given quickly. On the viewport, through the darkness, the engine lights of the flotilla glittered in hope. In a moment, however, the viewport shut closed with blast doors over the windows. Now they were locked in, with no lights.

No hope.

An immense feeling of fear came down on Caius then. But she steeled herself against this inevitable tide of emotion washing over her. Ignoring the sensation, she took a deep breath, and calmed down. She ran through a list of priorities in her mind.

"Get a repair crew down to the engines. Find out what's going o--" Caius' words were cut off as a flash and bang silenced the bridge of the Morning Star forever.

************

"Move in!"

"Back to the airlock!"

"WAAAAAAAAAGH!"

An explosion, not the first one and not the last, ripped through the Morning Star. Fire licked the beeping warning sirens and klaxons, brushing Sergeant Masara's black combat armor. The invaders had come quickly, descending upon the Morning Star with an unhinged fury. They'd hit their systems and were now boarding the massive cruiser. Parties were landing all around, cutting through hull or smashing into the hangar bays. A few of the former had just nailed some poor fellows guarding a lifeboat airlock. Her horn lit up and a magical grenade bounced around the corner, starting another burst of doom, but what goes around comes around.

Like momma always said, Masara thought, relishing the revenge.

An inorganic screech warbled after the initial blast. One of the damn things was still alive! Masara poked her head out and another flash of magical energy blasted it to bits of metal and living mesh. At least the things weren't too hard to kill, so long as you had superior firepower. Looking back, she could see even her weary comrades had that advantage.

The remains of its fellows were also scattered about the wide, gray hallway. This was the outermost main thoroughfare of A deck (1 of 3), a route that connected the lower hangars on the port and storage areas on the starship's centerline with the other two passages. The enemy had boarded here and, from what Masara had heard on the intercom, on F deck near the bridge. It seemed that whoever they were, they were going for some sort of pincer move.

Pondering for a moment, she made the executive decision to clear the lower hangars. At the very least the tattered remnants of her squad could try to stop the mass influx of cyborgs.

"Alright, ladies," she turned and spoke to them as they picked themselves up from the skirmish, "we're gonna clear the hangars and cork up these alien bastards before they cook us. I want the heavies in front, unicorns in back. Pegasi, go wherever the hell you please so long as you keep your heads down and melt some faces."

Shakily, the ponies set up in formation. Two earth ponies, Privates Toughmeat and Forest, took the lead in scarred white armor, with massive plates blocking for the lighter unicorns like Sergeant Masara. Part of the Sergeant felt bad for putting the young guys in the line of fire. The other hand told her they could handle it, and if not, tough luck.

The squad of Marines burst into the first hangar, a wide space with a half-shut blast door; a vain attempt to hold off the Morning Star's assailants. The energy shield held in the oxygen, however.

Masara found herself on a catwalk overlooking the launch platform. Down below, a hardly recognizable shuttle was split in half, speared by a boarding craft. A few pilots were holding the line but wavering in the face of tall, half-living half-robot monstrosities.

"Let's give em' a hoof, fellas!" Masara ordered her squad as she simultaneously threw a few more magical grenades. One bounced off the metal head of a bipedal invader--hands caught it, then panicked and dropped the explosive. A loud pop nearly tore a hole in the deck--and the gangly cyborg was no more. This was only the beginning of a surprise assault.

Hot potato, Masara remarked to herself.

With space to fly, the pegasi dive-bombed with rifles either strapped on harnesses or held in stasis fields. Even the strong shields of these aliens were no match for combined fire. Trying to dodge, they rolled and ducked to no avail. Powerful blasts ripped them apart in seconds, despite what seemed to be advanced shield systems on their armor. Quick popopopopopopopop sounds burst from the weapons of the majestic fliers, while some of the heavier weapons rumbled out powerful retorts. In conjunction this sudden airstrike was unstoppable.

The unicorns fired pinpoint shots of focused energy into two of the enemy hiding behind part of the shuttle. They resisted, but when they tried to return fire on the ponies they found themselves being charged from behind by two very angry and heavily armored defenders. With strength enhanced by servos in the armor, the earth ponies smashed them to bits of metal and miscolored flesh.

A few more, now prepared for the onslaught, used their boarding craft as cover. Advancing slowly behind massive shields, the two earth ponies bore the onslaught of laser rifles. The distraction helped the unicorns get clear shots in, but soon a beam of energy caught its mark and the armored trooper cried out in pain, falling to the floor.

"Forest!" the other yelled, jumping in front of his fallen friend. He was injured as well, but managed to hold his shield up as a nearly vain attempt at protection.

At this point, the now heavily barricaded attackers were dug in. The armor on the craft deflected the pegasi and the cyborg soldiers within seemed resistant to incoming fire. They traded projectiles for a moment, before a pilot jumped out from his barricade. Shouting a war cry, he was gunned down, but not before an explosive sailed from his telekenetic grip. The doors of the boarding craft tried to close and block it, but ironically ended up sealing it in. With a muffled shudder the hangar fell silent.

The Sergeant called out, "Secure that boarding craft. Check on those pilots and somebody get help to the guys down there," she said, indicating the wounded earth ponies and pilots.

The aviators in question were bleeding and beaten. The healthiest of them (which was not saying much at all) approached his savior in melancholy. "Those... things. They tore us apart, killed almost everyone. Thanks for the rescue..." he said, looking around at the bodies of his fallen bretheren. Through the visor of his helmet, Masara saw glazed eyes with something missing from them. Something... taken. Ignoring this temporarily, she cast a basic healing spell on him. Despite this, he continued staring out.

"Hey, Fleischy," she read out his name from her helmet's Heads-Up Display, "get it together. Respectfully, sir, you need to snap out of it. You gotta lead these guys out of the shit. Come on."

He looked back to her, a little more alert, but not much. However, he nodded sharply, and walked back to his fellows.

Private Asakira, a unicorn like Masara, strode over. "Sarge... maybe I should talk to him?"

There was a look in Asakira's eyes. She looked like she wanted to prove herself; but in a very snide way. It felt like she wasn't asking to help; she was demanding her participation. Masara couldn't have that. The kid was practically fresh off the block, but she was always at odds with the Sergeant. And while Masara gave some ground, thinking Asakira was right on occasion, it didn't do to have ponies questioning orders. So she said no. The pilot was fine anyways, Masara reassured herself.

"He's in a bad way, Sarge. If he's gonna handle this he needs to be on his game." Ugh, there she went again.

"Private, what don't you get about 'no'?" Masara intoned a little more forcefully, attempting the intimidation route.

Asakira had a vague look of displeasure, and mumbled something under her breath.

"What was that, soldier?" Masara interrogated.

Turning around and sucking in a breath, the unicorn replied, "I know what 'no' means. What I don't get it is why you're the one that's allowed to say it."

Did she just go there? Before, the Private had never been so outright. But yes, she definetly went there. That really ticked off the Sergeant, and she flew into a rage.

"Private, get your shit in line! I am here because I was put in a position of responsibiilty. I get to say 'no' because I can handle it. I get to say 'no' because I am the only one that knows when to say it. I get to say 'no' because I'm not the one that died since someone said 'yes.'" Masara grew in volume and slowed in speed, emphasizing her words. "Until you wrap your huge fucking head around that idea, Private, you don't get to say 'no.'"

Grinding her teeth, the younger soldier submitted. She did, however, walk over to the pilot and console him. He lowered his head when she talked about his wingponies, but came back to reality. Evidently, Asakira's words had a good effect on target. After the Private left, he turned away to the remains of his own unit.

At the very least, Masara had won the ego battle. As she calmed down, she realized not stopping the insubordinate soldier had probably been for the better.

"Sergeant," the officer, now composed, signaled Masara. She trotted over to him, heaving out a breath. He continued. "My pilots have lost their wings, but assuming you can help us out, a counterattack might be remotely feasible. I believe there are still some fighters docked in the next hangar over; if we clear it, we can at the very least stop any more boarders. From there, you'll need to go up to the bridge and figure out the status of the guns. If we can get those online, we have a chance at holding off the assault of whatever the hell these are." He stepped a little bit closer, whispering harshly. "I won't lie to you, Sergeant, this is going to be the toughest battle we'll ever fight if I've got a guess. But we'll do our duty if it means our lives. Go get your squad."

She nodded in reply, leaving Lieutenant Fleischy to his own organization. "Check weapons and gear up. Time to hoof it, ponies!" Masara yelled out to her squad.

**********

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

A scalding beam of energy melted half the bulkhead that Asakira had recently made a new home behind.

Oh shit

A black ball rolled to a stop at the edge of the wall she faced.

BOOM.

The explosive shredded an unfortunate unicorn to pieces. She didn't have time to check who it was as a massive machine trundled on robotic legs into the two-way hall.

Oh Celestia I'm so fucked

Scrambling to her hooves, the mare barely dodged another lightning laser of death. Asakira returned fire but found her plasma casting spell almost entirely ineffectual.

With that, she resorted to running.

The Private reflected on just how poorly and how quickly the tables had turned after she walked out of the hangar. The squad had moved through, room to room, but then the lights went out again and they were separated. Broken and without leadership they'd fallen apart. Mentally, the unicorn ticked off a list of her friends. She was immensely frightened for a moment as the list was nearly all checks.

But she didn't have any more time to think when another laser cut across her vision. Down and up she bobbed and weaved, doing her best, but she wasn't all that acrobatic. A tiny sliver of energy scalded through the outer edge of her armor, but Asakira ignored the pain.

Now, as Asakira sprinted along on all fours, the dying or obliterated lay around her, and it was extremely likely that she was about to join them.

That number doubled when a cyborg shaped like a lion-sized dog popped out at her, cornering the Private. With ineffective and blocked magic, she threw what energy she had into her furious charge, lowered her head--

An immense grinding of metal and bone accompanied the intense pain of smacking into a wall of living steel. Asakira shook, tumbled with the dog for a number of seconds, then fed some energy to her horn. The shock of electricity seemed to stun the cyborg for a number of seconds.

Up she went.

Down again under a flying piece of debris.

Now very much up as she jumped rope with deadly beams of light.

She hit the ground running, horrible aches washed away by massive amount of adrenaline. On the flip side, that was probably going to make her bleed out quickly. At that thought she fled faster.

Her lungs heaved air through her armor's mask, and she slipped around a corner, pursuers close behind and firing all the way. Another turn and there was an elevator shaft. She quickly bombarded it with uncontrolled magical energy, hoping the lift was there and her barrage did not damage anything but the door. Wisps of purple-black smashed into the hatch, and it burst open. Asakira had no time.

She jumped through.

There was no floor.

Fuck.

Down and down and down she fell, tumbling, waiting for the moment of her death to come. In those last seconds, one single moment flashed by.

*********

Fire split the sky, and they came to take her away...

*********

In that mere second of recollection, a flash in time, Kikamono Asakira decided she would not die there. Not now, not after everything. Not after living what she lived, facing what she faced and still being thrown down, broken, like an old toy, ragdolling around. She was not the chewy snack for the dog or ant to be stepped on. Not anymore.

A rage built within her, a spectacular, horrible, marvelous power straining at her flesh, threatening to burst the seams of her skin. Asakira flipped over in the air. The bottom of the shaft was within viewing distance now, and that danger only served to fuel the fire within the unicorn.

Soon it was as if she were two ponies; one magical demon and another frightened, helpless filly.

The metal raced up to meet her. It would be the end. Except--

Like a snap of fingers, light flashed, and she disappeared a centimeter away from the crashed lift.

*********