Chapters Carry On
The sands of death tumbled in cascades with the spiraling, unpredictable wind. Red, cracked earth crunched under the brutal heat. Bone and rock and mud found their way into an ugly mix, covering the land with nothing but their barren, broken sight. The sun was a massive ball in the sky, red with fury. Nothing escaped its tight grasp, not even itself.
The thing's shoes packed the dying land with each step. Rusted and decaying, they had long since lost their comfort, but remained an everlasting symbol. The once shining gold was scorched and decayed, some parts broken off and others melted into the white, glistening coat. It did not shine with sweat, however. The being did not have enough of anything left to get rid of. All it could do was walk.
And walk.
And walk.
And walk.
It trotted on as it came closer to itself, threatening to crush and extinguish. No life remained here. Nothing of her once great kingdom. Not a scrap of dust held a bacteria, nor a single rock contained fleeing insects.
Nothing remained. It sat there in the shadows, or lack thereof. No. In fact, it was plain as day, watching from a distance. Mocking. Seething. Pleased, but not happy.
The nothingness was not a void. Truly, it was the complete opposite. Nothing and everything were the same, really. Just in a different form.
She tried to remember her name. Cell. Celia. Clea? Celestia.
CELESTIA.
She found it.
Celestia walked on. With her name came memories. Memories of her parents. Children. Friends. Twilight. Dear Twilight...
Her eyes spoke of grief but cried no tears.
As the end came, her friends died or left. Their society had achieved so much--technology, art, culture. Everything had been going up and up and up. Though she couldn't say that she didn't KNOW that this day--or rather, the past three centuries--had been coming. The days that meant her death. She was tied to this place, like her sister. They could leave, but they would still face mortality. So both had stayed. Celestia and Luna walked endlessly, carrying on.
What else could somepony do when he or she killed all the ponies that they knew? Thankfully, most of them had left, an unknowable number of years past, in massive craft of steel and fire. A few stayed with their queens, until they died of starvation, dehydration, or the heat. Their lives ended almost pathetically quickly. No remorse came. Enlightenment, perhaps, but not much else.
The sun goddess felt the pain of the sand zipping into her, cutting and bruising. She didn't care. Nothing really mattered anymore. Was Luna even alive still? The moon rose for brief points when the engrossing light of the sun wasn't coating Equis. That wasn't enough confirmation, though. But wait, it had no meaning anyways.
Celestia almost found that comforting. Death and life had no meaning aside from the things that mortals applied to them. It was like math. They were inherent values in the universe that existed despite if anything thought about them. Or did they really have all the meanings? Was a thought required for truth to exist? If a lie was uttered by the last pony alive--Celestia, probably--and then she died, would that remain true until someone made it false? The moment of rambling in her lazy head passed, and Celestia continued to slowly drift forward and carry on.
On.
On.
On.
The word echoed about her mind, the switch that sent power flowing through the circuit. Until someone turned it off. Until someone shut off the lights. Celestia wondered what that would feel like. Not the death itself, or the life before, but the inbetween. When the the electrical contact point slipped. That moment of twilight before the dawn or the sunset. Alpha and Omega. The beginning and the end. Sweeping tides of rivers burned away, mountain snow and ocean spray. Celestia found poetry a distracting hobby aside from walking. She hated it, which was exactly why she found it challenging. And, though she was loathe to admit it, Celestia loved a challenge, especially a puzzling one. Strength should be left to the weak, she thought dimly, liking her own irony and finding sense in it.
When that became boring Celestia carried on. Keeping on. Moving forward. Never stopping. Never ending. Until she dropped.
Which happened just then. She didn't need all that much food or water, but three centuries was a long time to go without it. There was no more energy for her to keep walking, so she fell. Right onto another lump of fur. A third came on top with claws and horns, and a final one of insectoid body and fleshy wings.
Celestia almost found that funny. Here they were, all four of them. Mortal enemies. Falling on the same spot.
Ready to die.
Celestia drew energy from the sun. She didn't normally do that because she feared that the star's death would only speed up. Now, though, she realized what she was about to do was far more important. She channeled the warmth to the other three around her, and they blossomed with life.
"You decided to stick around too, huh?" she managed to say to them between cracked lips and dry mouth.
"I couldn't leave, Tia," Luna sighed, too tired to cry. "I couldn't leave you here. I love you, and I know you love me too much.
Celestia let a pleased grunt escape and patted her sister's head. "What about you two? I thought you were both dead and gone," she said, referring to Discord and Chrysalis.
The bug queen answered first. "I stayed because I thought I could survive. Off of your love for your sister. It was stronger than anything I'd ever taken in. Now, though, I am resigned to a quiet, burning death. I think my actions are deserving of such a thing."
Celestia thought about that for a minute. Or maybe a century. She didn't know anymore. Even the rock began to feel soft under her resting head. It wouldn't stay that way, though. No, she'd probably die quickly, but the speed would still contain pain. After all, a massive ball of fire exploding in space might give a little sunburn.
That was when she noticed Discord was quiet. She tilted her head lazily and saw the chaos god breathing slowly. Awake, even. Just not talking.
"Discord? Are you still there?"
The draconequus dimly replied. "I am here. Love."
"You remember, then." Celestia found that pleasing, yet it gave her an odd, annoyed feeling.
"How could I call myself mortal if I didn't try to remember everything? Is the anniversary of the day you tried to kill me?" Discord asked nonchalantly
"If you want it to be."
"Well then. How pleasantly ironic." he said. He didn't say a word for a good half-hour. Thinking. He had all the time in the world, after all, and none of it at the same moment. "Do you forgive me, Tia?"
Celestia would have cried if she had any tears left to send rolling down her cheeks. "I have always loved you,"
"That doesn't answer my question," he said, determined. That same spark in his eyes as he looked at her. "Do you forgive me?"
The sun goddess broke then. Of all ponies, most would say Discord deserved this the most, but not Celestia. She'd made him this. She'd made him a monster when she refused to accept him. When she turned the poor face in the door away. "If anything, Discord, I ask if you forgive me." With her ebbing strength she threw her arms around him. "You don't deserve this. Why did you stay? Why did you stay here when you could have left? You could have lived!" Celestia's body was racked with dry sobs.
"I stayed for absolution," he said, "to be forgiven for my egregious sins. And..." he stopped.
"And?" Celestia managed through her guilty conscience.
"And to be with you. Through the end. I've been searching through these long years, and now I have found you, Tia."
Celestia found the will then to bury her face in his shoulder and cry as Discord continued to talk. "We have at best a few days, all of us. We shall make what amends we can. And maybe make up for lost time."
Celestia stopped crying then. The out-of-place cheerfulness in his voice brought a confused smile to her lips. He always did.
Absolution
Discord watched her rage in silence.
The four had long since lost the energy to talk openly. Telepathy was actually much less strenuous, but the communication was far more... raw. Luna and Celestia both sat unmoving, eyes plagued with untold horror and sadness. Everything he had ever done to them came back in full, unrelenting force. Chaos had given him pleasure, once. When she had left him. Anger and fear and pure, free hatred had flown willingly from him, destroying them... the alicorns. Well, mostly. The destruction was nearly complete when they had stopped his takeover with the Elements. Only a few left... nearly gone, his goal nearly completed.
Had it been worth it?
The question resounded throughout his brain, kicking him like a downed dog. Beating the dead pony. He knew the answer, but guilt forced him to revisit it.
No. No, it was most certainly not worth it. Not worth being encased in stone for three millenia. Not worth coming out again, angry and distraught, just to lose. Just to fail. Not worth nearly wiping out a species, not worth being forever corrupted by chaos.
Another question found Discord in that moment. Why was he so glum? Guilt would fix nothing now, so why did he feel it? He looked to the royal sisters ponderously. Perhaps they were subconsciously attributing something to him and channeling it through magic without knowing it. It was a possibility.
Possibilities seemed to be all he had left in the end.
Dying brought a certain air of pointlessness to his whole life. Millenia spent waging a war that would never end. Chaos and harmony. You couldn't have one without the other, after all. And neither would mean a lack of anything... any existence at all. For a moment he wondered if his death would end chaos. He knew that Celestia's death meant nothing in the larger scheme of things. Harmony was passed through ages, generally in pairs or hextuplets. But Discord had never died, nor truly succeeded in using Chaos to completeness. A spike of dread crawled through him. What if he had no successor? No future embodiment of spontaneity and madness?
Would it even matter? Just harmony... he tried to imagine a world like that. No war, no hatred. He couldn't. It was those things--just those two critically important things--that brought ponies together. And that was the essence of harmony, wasn't it? Being... together. Hating something, but doing it with your friends. In the lives of everything that could breathe, there was certainly never a lack of things to hate. Sickness, cold, heat, thirst, hunger.
Death.
With that, he concluded his deliberation. Discord would not worry away his last hours wondering if ponies would stop not liking the things in life--or the lack of that content. He returned his attention to the two princesses of a dead kingdom.
Celestia was blank. Nothingness gripped her by the shoulders. Luna looked as if she might cry.
Then, a disembodied thought appeared in Discord's head.
The three words were saturated with hesitation. A shroud of calmness covered a final feeling, veiled behind a mask of confusion...
Was that disappointment? Just a fraction of a percent... yes. She--no, they--were disappointed in him. He knew it, they knew it, and the thought connection came to an abrupt halt.
As the winds blew dust across the scorched earth, one thing was clear.
He was certainly not forgiven.
*******************
"It's going to explode within the next month," the brown unicorn said, levitating electronic datapads and examining data. "Quite a monumentous event. The death of our first solar system," he said, fiddling with a his holographic keyboard. "Wish I could have seen it in its prime."
The captain, a light brown earth pony, listened, detached and informal in his stance, gray eyes distant as they looked at but did not see Equus.
"We're here to run a few tests and observe the supernova from a safe distance. That is all. No time travel or mysterious adventures for me, thank you," the Captain responded, reminding the unicorn of their purpose while not being so harsh as to lose the approval of his crew. It was a little bit disconcerting, though--the ESD decided to send one of its most powerful ships to run tests on planets and stars. The Morning Star is a massive warship, not some science probe, the Captain thought with some disdain. But his complaining to the up-highs would have to wait. "Ensign, back to your station. Foucault," he called to the navigation officer, "give us a course in low orbit, over old Canterlot. I, Marine squad F-9, and Wesley here will take a shuttle to get down there, take some readings, and leave. Nurman, you're up," the Captain said, indicating his XO.
The crew focused on what tasks they had as the Captain left the bridge, his team falling in line behind him. The brown unicorn, Wesley, came up on his right. The civilian was on loan from the Equestrian Space Department Science Division. Curly locks of hair fell over his head. His coat was a darker shade of Captain Ares color, his flank mark a bubbling vial. Ares found him a slight nuisance, and was admittedly suspicious that he was really some snoop.
The Captain almost drew his sidearm and shot himself when one of the hatches on the left popped open, revealing Eastley, Wesley's twin brother. If he wasn't shackled to the thing's legs by regulations and red tape, he'd have thrown the "pony" out the airlock. Supposedly he was fairly intelligent, or something like that. There were darker whispers that he was somehow dangerous--but everything was vague, and lacked evidence. Still... the Captain really wanted nothing to do with him.
"Hey, Mr. Captain Dr. Sir, can I come too? Please?" the eccentric unicorn bounced along, peach fur in complete contrast to the dark brown of his grounded, intelligent brother.
Wesley opened his mouth before the Captain could call out his brother. "Trust me, sir, when I say he should come with us. Eastley has a very good sense for... unknowns," the unicorn assured the Captain as the group found the hangar, Eastley still going through a variety of acrobatic movements and even going so far as to levitating himself in the air, spinning in a pirouette of madness. "Remember why he's on the Morning Star, sir..."
"Right..."
*****************
"We're under L1 now. Opening velocity dump. Activating landing thrusters..." the pilot of the shuttle, Open Sky, informed her passengers of their process in landing on Equus. "There. We'll be at the surface in five."
Captain Ares Sol rose to his hooves, the white environment suit clinking at the joints as he gripped the handles over his head with his hooves, holding himself in place. The Marines and the two unicorns were seated around him, checking information, cleaning weapons and gear, the whole bit. They weren't sure what might be down on the surface, as massive storms had stopped probes from reaching their destination. Thus, a manual inspection was necessary. The Captain took his pride and tradition where he could get it: after all, if you wanted something done right, the best way was to do it yourself.. Having his own boots on the ground also allowed him to survey the operations.
The dull roar of air friction against the hull thrummed through the craft. Ares' ears popped as they continued to descend down and down into the atmosphere, pressure increasing. The gusts of wind rocked the craft savagely, and the hull vibrated.
The shuttle popped through the clouds, and the turbulence stopped.
"Free fall. Closing fuel valves." Open Sky synchronized her notification with the thump and silence of the drop through the burning air.
Three minutes of absolute nothingness passed, and then fwoosh as the landing thrusters engaged, slowing the shuttle from its incredible velocity. Two minutes of crushing pressure on his skeleton would have hurt Ares had he not been used to it entirely. A shudder rustled the passenger cabin as the shuttle settled onto the dust that was Canterlot. The mechanical voice of the computer spoke.
"Equalizing interior pressure with exterior atmosphere... Done. Opening exterior hatch. Warning: Level 5 Heat Hazard Detected." The machine droned as the door hissed open, hydraulics pumping and steam leaking from a faulty seal. That'd have to be fixed. As the whirring sound of gears filled his mind, the Captain wondered if the planet would look remotely like the pictures of the storybooks his mother used to read him.
Ares' first view of Equus was nothing like those illustrations.
Cloud Peak was red and marred with cracks and dust in the distance, Canterlot long disintegrated into nothing but sand and bone. The side of the mountain was caved in where the city had finally collapsed to the amazingly strong wind and blistering heat. It was not like he had expected anything but that, yet... he was still almost disappointed. Angry, even. Nothing? Not even a broken boutique or the wall of an ancient library? Wesley had told him everything there was to know about the surface before they had arrived, but it was not like he'd actually been listening. Thusly, the scene that greeted him was unexpectedly grim and uninteresting.
"Wesley, take what samples and readings you need. Marines, perimeter around the shuttle. Eastley..." he pondered what to do for a moment. "Stick with your brother."
"We certainly have enough hired guns around..." Wesley muttered under his breath, but not so low that the Captain couldn't hear it.
His head snapped to the brown-coated, peach-maned unicorn. "Say something?"
The unicorn gulped and returned to bagging the rocks from the surface. Ares almost smiled. Sometimes, pulling rank was quite amusing. That was about all there was on this blasted rock, anyways.
Then he saw Eastley.
Accelerando
Celestia felt a surge of power course through the veins beneath her flesh. She writhed reflexively, shuddering with sheer force. That was entirely unexpected. After all, she had not drawn any power from the sun above her. The goddess looked over to her sister with newfound vigor and saw Luna cough, then suck in a deep breath of the ragged wind.
Discord had a rather dumbfounded look on his face when Celestia turned her now wiry joints over. Looking down, she saw what he did--blue energy racing around her circulatory system, culminating in a bright spark off her horn with a fizz and a click. This sound, for some reason, seemed reminiscient of a soda bottle cap breaking from its container, casting carbon dioxide through the air. The magic flowed similarly to the gas, quickly ebbing out and subsiding. Celestia heard a similar pop from behind her. Probably Luna. When a third came, she was reminded of Chrysalis. Was she still there? Her previous mental and vocal silence had signaled a calm and quiet death to the insect queen. Perhaps not...
Then, all of a sudden, the glow evaporated. The sun's unbearable heat returned, washing over Celestia with the force of an angry typhoon. Yet as pain came into her, a sense of hope radiated out. The strange magical release had apparently woken Chrysalis from death or slumber, so whatever it had been was something entirely different that expected.
"What in the Hive's name was that?" the insect queen asked to no one in particular. A holed hoof traveled to her face. "Oh my aching head..."
Luna stood quietly, contemplating or resting Celestia could not know. Her eyes focused on the red, dusty air, longing for some answer in the hazy mist.
"Indeed, Chrysalis. What indeed..." the white alicorn followed her sister's gaze, up and up and up. A flash of light marked the sky, followed by a comet trail of energy. With a thunderous boom and crack, it disappeared. The quartet of not-so-immortal immortals facing death collectively rose to a silent conductor. When your coffin is a planet and your funeral a supernova, things, however minute, become exponentially more interesting.
****************
Eastley popped up with a bright blue blink, leaping up into the air and doing a pirouette around. At this point, he and the crew of the science shuttle all found themselves investigating the diamond of blue light just a few meters out. The guards had hardly expected a threat on the expedition and so were not quite as ready as the captain would have liked.
Not quite so ready for what was coming.
A dome of expanding energy cascaded over the group, and four of five Marines disintegrated, melting into dust, carried away by the wind. The others were thrown forward, away from their position on the starboard side of the shuttle and towards the floating crystal. The wave had come from behind, obliterating rocks and splitting earth before it reached the shuttle. At that point, it had reached over and simply plucked the Marines away into nothing. All those who survived--Open Sky, the Captain, Wesley, Eastley, and Harrier, the last Marine--had been saved by the shuttle. Unfortunately, the entire port wing had been blackened, burned, and fused together. It still faintly glowed from sheer heat.
Open Sky yelled from inside the cockpit. Apparently, the radios had all died. "You guys better get in here quick! The radiation just went off the charts!" her muffled voice called out through the glass.
Without even waiting for her to finish opening the outer lock, the ponies scrambled inside, practically flying through the small chamber and popping out the inner door. As the latch locked tight, the Captain, Wesley, Eastley, and Harrier all crowded around the console. Holographic symbols floated around, showing damage, ship status, filter quality, defense mechanisms, everything.
"Give me a full report, Lieutenant. What in Tartarus just happened?"
After a moment of scanning the charts, the pilot replied, "I think some sort of EMP came off that light sphere. Except... it's like nothing I've ever seen before. Luckily, it didn't do much but fry a few circuits from the backup generator, so we can't fly, but we can breathe. The port side got toasted; even if we could take off, we wouldn't be up for long. As for the guys..." she sighed regretfully, "they're gone. As soon as that thing showed up and popped that bubble, off they were. Nice fellas, too."
The Captain looked around, saw Harrier fidgeting in place, his trigger hoof shaking. "Steady, soldier," he stated calmly, bringing his gaze to Harrier. "Don't want you popping a hole in this tub."
Open Sky looked over her shoulder with an abused expression. "Tub? She's one of my ships!"
"She's one of my ships..." the Captain let that hang in the air, a sarcastic and angry tone lilting through the stale air.
"...sir." she finished.
"You remember that. And apologize to Harrier."
The pilot looked back to the quiet soldier. "Sorry, kid." She said it without much effort, a rich pony throwing money to the homeless waiting in the cold.
But only the money she had stuffed in the couch.
The Captain set his eyes on the mare, not with any sort of emotion; well, emotion by normal standards. He had a special sort of angry. He became entirely calm. He became the night sky on a cold night, seeming so massive, looking down on the beings so miniscule below him. He became the wind nipping at the edge of the coat, not quite painful but plenty annoying. He became fear, and he became nothing. That was the horribly scary, terrific, beatiful part about the Captain's anger.
The pilot threw up her hooves in resignation, as if to say, "alright, alright!" With a huff and a puff she turned her chair back around, slouching in her seat, black-and-yellow mane flopping over her eyes.
"Open Sky, attempt to raise the Morning Star," Ares commanded.
She flipped a few switches and sent out an all-frequency distress signal. No reply.
"That's wonderful." she groaned. "Well, they'll probably come pick us up in a day or so anyways. Anyone bring cards?"
****************
The Morning Star drifted through space, continuing a slow orbit around Equus. The directional jets flared every few seconds, or minutes, or hours -- to the endless openness that was space, arbitrary pony times meant nothing. Distant suns twinkled with wondrous light, photons millions of years old blasting through emptiness and dark, into the eyes of gazing crewponies, who stood in awe and fear. The blinding majesty of the final frontier would bring many to tears on the first visit.
Following a planned yet chaotic flight path, the ship knew nothing of the cries of the Captain below, shouting up. The wind plucked the call away like a dog pulling its pups. Radio was distorted and made static by solar wind, electronic signals disrupted.
Then, out beyond the sparkling of the stars, a pinprick of energy (or lack thereof) split reality on the edge of the Equus system. Something dark, something sinister crept through that short rift in time, which stretched taut once again, as if a knot had been loosened and again pulled tight.
This faintest of marks on the tapestry of time appeared on a crewpony's scanner screen. He looked at it, confused, and was unsure why any sort of ship would be entering the system.
Just as quickly as it appeared, however, the notification winked out.
"Lieutenant Foucalt, sir?" the young ensign called out, flustered and with horn slightly aglow.
"Yes, P?" Lieutenant Foucalt Circuit replied, using the unicorn's nickname.
"Uh, it's just... the scanner system had a glitch, I think. Might want to run a diagnostic check." Ensign Pylon Tower looked over the system again.
Foucalt got up and trotted over. "Let's see here... yep, probably just a glitch. Barely know why we're even out here anyways."
"Tourists, maybe?" a crewpony commented sarcastically.
The silent ship that descended on the Morning Star suggested otherwise.
**************
"We could go outside." the pilot said, throwing the words out to the stale, recycled air.
"Whatever killed my Marines might still be out there. IS still out there," Captain Ares replied promptly.
The mare shrugged. "So, what, then? We just wait here for another shuttle from the Morning Star to show up, watch it get blasted out of the sky by... whatever it was, while we sit here, hoping we don't starve or dehydrate?"
The Captain almost said yes, but he looked over to Harrier and saw the foal frightened out of his wits. "No," he replied, still looking at the green-behind-the-ears Marine, "no one is going to die. No one else."
Open Sky blew a strand of hair out of her face and swiveled her chair to face the Captain. "What is it, exactly, that you propose that will change that?"
He looked her over again.
"You're going to go outside."
"Oh, thanks..." she grumbled, and popped her helmet on. Open Sky grabbed her sidearm and slid the targeting chip over her eye. A glance and a thought, and most enemies would be nothing but dust. The laser pistol floated in a stasis field beside her head, grip folded in and with a short stock protruding out.
The airlock opened, and she stepped through.
**************
"AH!" Luna yelped as she slipped down the sharp embankment. Dust and rocks followed her, and her trio of companions as they dove to her rescue.
Celestia leapt forth, and quickly teleported at the foot of the steep hill. Such a feat cost her what strength she had, but the white alicorn managed to slow her sister from a tumbling death into the nearby ravine.
It was more like a split in the land where some giant had struck a thin knife. It was, however, large enough for a pony to fall through. The drop may not have killed Luna, but being stuck and alive might have been a worse fate.
"That was close. Be more careful, little one," Celestia advised, concern in her eyes.
"I'm not so little any more," Luna looked up, a tough adult demanding respect... but beyond that skin was a child. Despite all her responsibility, anger, sadness, joy, life, Luna had never lost that. Celestia almost envied it.
"I know. I just... I love you. Don't go dying before the hour is here," the bigger horse replied. Solemnly, they carried on, crossing the small crack with relative ease.
The huge star above them glared in their eyes whenever they looked up. Nothing was free from the red gaze. It was a massive eye, staring down and judging. It was the hand of God, taking the worthy and leaving those not fit. It had taken so many already.
Chrysalis walked behind Luna as they pursued the mysterious falling object. By now, they were following the sight and sound of the apparent explosion that had occurred. Discord and Celestia walked together, nearer than they had been but still far apart.
"It has been quite a while, hasn't it, Luna? Whatever happened to Cadence? Or her husband?" the insect queen asked. She was a tad intrusive, but Luna found her voice... gentle. Warm, even.
With a hard exhale, Luna flared her nostrils. "Shining Armor died. He took a long time of it, but he was mortal. And he was a soldier," she rocked her head, seeming to consider this. "I think he was killed in battle... not by you or your kin, I think, but some foreign power or in some odd rebellion or something. A shame... As for Cadence, she left with the Crystal Heart. She wasn't exactly bound here. I mean, we--Celestia and I--aren't really either, but I guess we were compelled to stay. Cadence probably rose to power, or maybe she left and lived a quiet life. I don't really know." The moon goddess looked down. "I wish I did."
Chrysalis took a breath before replying. "Did you convince her to leave, or did she just go?"
Luna pondered for a moment as they walked. "As I recall, we weren't really sure what would happen if she tried to take the Heart. It seemed like the easiest thing to move, so she seemed the most capable of leaving. I didn't really want her to go... she was my friend, and family. But... oh... I can barely remember her face..." Small tears welled in her eyes. One hit the ground, and it sizzled away.
Chrysalis reached an arm around her. "It's alright. She's safe now. At least you have that, right?"
Luna nodded. "Yes, there is that... I just feel like I need to see her. Just one more time."
Chrysalis nodded and held her a little tighter.
**************
Open Sky flexed her wings in the environmental powered armor she wore, looking up at her namesake. It wasn't so open, though; more like her, it was clogged with dust and rocks, and had a beating heart of a sun, massive and overpowering. The joints in her armor were, thankfully, clean of grime. For once, R&D had actually listened to a request and installed filters...
That small comfort did not disquiet her uncomfortable fear as the wind swept around her, a small tornado of earth lifted up and tossed straight in her face. It rippled past and up, snapping around and pushing on the pegasus.
However, that was not what was bothering Open Sky. In fact, looking on the bright side, wind was the least worrisome thing of all. Totally nothing to worry about there. It was more the sense that she might be obliterated in a second by some unseen force of magic or technology that would burn her hooves to nothing and leave her with no children, no spouse, many regrets, guilt, never having gotten drunk (surprising enough on its own) and in general not experiencing life to the fullest.
Still, shouldn't really be that bad... right?
Her pistol came a little closer to her body as she waded through the thick, clouded fog of loose soil. As it spun, it clung to Open Sky's suit, mottling the deep gray armor with brown freckles. The visor remained mostly clear, however, thanks to a wiping laser that vaporized any debris.
She pushed through the whipcrack of the air, driven like cattle to the slaughter. Her shepherd didn't seem to have any specific direction, though, and it pushed Open Sky some distance from the pod. It was marked with a handy tracker beacon, thankfully, so losing the location wasn't that much of a problem.
Soon, though, as her fears calmed slightly, the trek became very boring very quickly.
What was she supposed to find out there, anyways? Open Sky had kind of wanted to go out, but that was just because... it was something to do. At this point, it didn't really seem like a great idea. What with the wind (which was beginning to slow) and the threat of random and violent death or any other fate this wasteland held, the adventure seemed more like a death march. Seriously, It wasn't like she was just going to stumble upon--
Holy crap, was that Princess Celestia ?
It certainly looked like her. Well, sort of. It reminded Open Sky of her history books and the pictures therein--though the creature before her was smothered in a drab, inescapable red. It looked like someone had sat there throwing mud at the Princess for the million and a half years the other ponies had been gone. The immaculate white coat shone through, however. It glistened in a strange way, as if dense perspiration had built up on the alicorn. It almost shined like a diamond, were it not for the caked soil and earth dulling it.
At that point, Open Sky felt an immense sorrow. Here was a poor old mare who had been living since the beginning of time, and might meet her end in but a few months at best. Immortality would be a most terrible and horrific curse. She imagined to herself the extreme pain and suffering Celestia had endured for so long. Open Sky's only consolation would be that the agony would be done soon.
All the same, however, she tensed up and shifted her weapon warily.
For a moment, they stood together like that. A dying goddess and a frightened soldier, and their eyes spoke to each other. The first seemed mildly surprised, and a little confused. If anything, however, she was almost amused. As for Open Sky, her back hoof slipped back just a tiny distance. Her yellow irises twitched a little inside her helmet's clear faceplate. At a word, the tense trigger would plunge back and singe the alicorn a little more.
"Hello."
The word seemed both to echo out forever, spiraling out into the emptiness of space, while at the same time halting immediately. It came out clearly and evenly, but with a tint of uncertainty, as if it had been cooped up for so long it did not know what to do now that it was free.
"H-hey," Open Sky stuttered. Her weapon remained unholstered, but swung down, with the barrel nearly tapping the ground.
All of a sudden, a single tear crawled down Celestia's face, gripping with all its might to the rock wall it had fallen from. The salty liquid brushed away a line of dirt, desperately trying to find a hold, but meeting only tumbling stones.
The Princess only noticed it as it spilled from her face, and her head snapped down to watch its fall. A hoof shot out, to catch the falling star, the last one. It slipped out of her grasp, and with a sharp but soft inhale, she saw it die.
Plop. It shattered across the barren land, the only water the place had known for so many billions of long minutes; hours; days; weeks; months; years.
So many years.
It was then that Open Sky understood exactly what kind of pain the half-dead creature had suffered. Princess Celestia. She didn't look very regal. It was certainly nothing like Open Sky had ever seen before.
The eyes were the worst part. Before they seemed somewhat pleased at finding another pony out here in the endless plain. Now, only a look of anguish graced them, a supreme glare that called for mercy and revenge at once. For a moment, shooting her right there seemed like it might be a service to the poor old thing.
A sob racked the body, and all the pegasus could do was lock stares with those begging eyes, those eyes that bore into her soul. Those eyes that must have stopped even the relentless wind with their horrible misery, and as the gale thundered to a closing crescendo, it looked over to the wretched thing before it.
If, prior to the coming moment, the wind had not been beaten by that angry, enraged, deploring stare, then it was certainly thrown aback by the wail of overwhelming agony that came. Open Sky's blood rippled as the cry came, hateful, simply rage, then felt it snap her to pieces when it broke into a sob.
After everything, all she had ever endured in her hundreds of millions of years of life, from the beginning of time, Princess Celestia broke then, on seeing just one more of her subjects.
Just one reminded her of all of them.
Their faces were emblazoned on her memory, branded in. Sometimes, she'd forget one. But they always came back.
They always came back to her in her mind. Carrying on the endless struggle to die with her.
The suddenness of the whole experience was frightening, horrifying, spectacular, and beautiful to Open Sky, all at once. A feeling of total empathy met her, washing her down like the disinfectant shower aboard the Morning Star. She was with her ruler then, finding her strengths and her sorrows.
Once the yelp became wailing, then crying, then dry sobbing with sharp breaths, Open Sky administered her metaphorical morphine.
"It's okay. I'm here now. I'm here," Open Sky said, dropping lower to cradle the head of her righteous monarch in her hooves. She didn't really know what to say. What could she say, to this infinite being of light? What could she do, even? Bring her back to the shuttle? Take her away from her heart, take her from the only home she had ever known, take her from the depths of her being and soul, rip away anything, everything she had left, what little there was? Leave her there, in the empty, desolate plain that was the end?
Kill her?
How could she make that call, the executive decision, the uncaring stamp on the late library book? Could she be an executioner? It really seemed to be what this pony wanted. Celestia was practically dead already. Emaciating her to nothingness with the laser would be a far faster, less painful death than literally having your soul explode, and being caught in the resulting firestorm. Taking her away would be even worse--not being with the last thing the alicorn owned when she died. Open Sky deliberated, stroking the remains of a once sparkling mane on the last prisoner of death row.
Sand crunched behind her, and her head snapped up.
No mercy left her eyes traveling along the barrel of her rifle, an arm of death straining at its leash to be released and spit forth fires of hell. The mysterious being before her seemed curious but cautious, as it should have been in Open Sky's mind. It emanated a deep feeling of wrongness, projecting it out from... somewhere. Somewhere in particular but nowhere at all. The feeling it gave the pegasus made her writhe in her armor, seeping through the cracks.
She shook her head. No. Open Sky couldn't let the being inside her head. It was absolutely chaotic in physical appearance, a collage of disambigious parts from animals of different types. The mismatched chicken claw and lion paw would have been an amusing pairing, had she not been so worried they would tear her apart.
The feeling peeled back after that, removing itself, as if her own fear had actually pushed it away. But that just left one less thing that was happening.
One less certainity.
One less comfort.
It started towards her now, very slowly creeping forth, one foot off the ground, then back down, and the other...
It was eerily slow, like the creature was trapped in some gelatinous mix.
"Don't come any closer," she finally hissed out through the mouthpiece, and the being froze once more.
For a little bit it sat there, studying her. Then,
"I'm not going to hurt you."
No trust came with the statement, no inherent peace. Open Sky knew this thing was accustomed to hurting things, and was most likely going to hurt her. What to do then?
Her breathing sped up. A cacaphony of silence began to fill her ears, and Open Sky's reaction was to start sweating, and the heat built inside her sealed suit, shutting her in and pulling her down and--
She unconciously pulled the trigger.
It was over in a second, the light and flash of sound bursting out. The sand was scorched in a path of death, steaming with the heat. As the dust settled, though, the creature remained there, totally unharmed, one demented chicken claw raised casually in front, as if to stop the shot, while not entirely caring if it found a target.
The empty look on his face (for Open Sky had determined it to be a he, at least) was a little bit comical, considering the circumstance. However, he had just stopped a bolt of pure energy dead in its tracks. That said something.
"What are you?" Open Sky was now incredulous, trying to recover from her mistake in her relations with this new being. "And how the fuck are you still alive?" Oh, real fuckin' smooth there, Sky. I'm sure he'll like you cursing at him, she reprimanded herself.
He let out a little laugh then. "I could ask you the same question, my little pony! You happen to be on a planet that's very near to its consumption by that guy up there," he said, pointing to the sun, "in case you didn't know."
Oh, she knew all right. But she would play ball. It wasn't like she had many other options with finding out who this guy was. Pressing him wasn't likely to work.
"Alright, fine, I go first. I am Lieutenant Open Sky of the ESDV (Equestrian Space Department Vessel) Morning Star, service tag L-P-A-7713. You, my fine and indestructable sir, are...?"
He shook his long body, like a dog drying itself out. Settling his shoulders, he finally answered her.
"I am Discord, God of Chaos. Not as chaotic as I once was, however. Thanks at least partially to the pony behind you," he said, indicating the Princess.
"Princess Celestia? How do you know her?" Open Sky was once more mystified.
Discord seemed almost surprised. "Really, how do you not know who I am?" he inquired, feigning a hurt look. He snapped his claw's digits, and a couch slowly rose out of the dirt under him.
Was formation magic supposed to impress her? It wasn't something she was entirely unfamiliar with. Temporary transmutation of objects was actually quite common around the galaxy. Turning sand into a couch would not be behind a good number of unicorns. Open Sky gave him a pitying look.
She decided to finally answer his question with a shortened version of the truth.
"Well, we ponies sort of went into a Dark Age a little while after we left here. Long story short, we've been gone for nearly a million years and a lot of old information was lost. Memory of you kicked the bucket, I guess."
A flash of actual, acute pain crossed his countenance -- for just a second, but it was there, bright at first and then fizzling out like a used match. Maybe she shouldn't have been so rough with him...
He responded before she could finish the thought. "Gone? Totally wiped from the pages of your history books? How is it, then, that you know of Celestia, but not of I?"
She shrugged. "Luck of the draw, I guess. Not much you could have done, so... don't bother yourself with it." Funny. A minute ago she was shooting at him, and now she was offering condolences. "Well, I happen to have a shuttle about a kilometer or two from here. I don't really feel I should leave you out in this desert, so come along."
Again with the surprised look. "How very trusting of you. Does 'chaos' not strike fear into your heart?" He seemed sarcastic but partly serious.
She had no reason not to trust him, really. If he wanted to kill or injure her, Open Sky couldn't exactly defend herself, considering her weapon was almost entirely ineffectual. The fact that he had not openly attacked was evidence enough to her.
Plus, she felt a little guilty for putting Discord in her sights.
Open Sky explained all this as she tried to pull Celestia to her feet. The monarch wouldn't budge.
"Come on, Princess, we should get going," Open Sky urged her, but still, nothing.
Discord slithered around her, and offered a suggestion after a moment of perplexed thinking. "I think we should wait for my compatriots to arrive. She probably thinks we're leaving them."
Looking up from her task, Open Sky said, "Wait, how many of you are there?"
"Two. They should be upon us any minute now, and then we should get going to... wherever you came from."
"Heh. That might be a problem," Open Sky responded as two shapes formed in the hot, dry dust spun about by the now-returned air currents.
Before he could ask what the 'problem' was, the shades materialized into alicorns. "Ah, there you are! Lieutenant, this is Queen Chrysalis and Princess Luna. Know them?"
As it happened, the pilot did recall faintly a lesson in school about Chrysalis. Luna, of course, Open Sky had heard of as much as (if not more than) Princess Celestia herself. After all, the two were paired together. Magically bonded, so to speak.
Open Sky informed Discord of this, introduced herself to the two, and led them off, explaining her mission as she went.
Briefly, she wondered whether the Captian would rip her head off in rage for firing at an unknown alien or crush her lungs in a hug because she found the oldest ponies in existence.
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.
*********
The air inside the helmet was pure, lacking any mutations that would come from the congested, sharp, sandy air. However, it was a dull purity--nothing interesting would ever come of the basic filters of the black, multirole armor. Open Sky reflected on this duality while on her trek, leading the immortal company beind her.
Two sides of a coin, she summed it up succintly inside a wandering mind inside an enclosed suit surrounding a wandering body.
The pegasus would occasionally take flight, wings moving remarkably fluidly within the plated enclosure. She'd given Discord a marker bead, a sort of tracking device, in order to stay with them while she moved. He could see where the shuttle was, as could Open Sky with her own systems. That allowed the pilot to do a bit of aerial reconnaisance.
Once more the pegasus took a running leap and spiraled upwards. A curious sense of being lifted followed her, as Open Sky couldn't feel the wind against her coat, black-and-yellow mane tumbling with it, or the air against her feathers. She continued to climb through thickening layers of muck, each one's particles increasing in speed while Open Sky moved up. Small dingdingding noises of tiny grains were occasionally accompanied by heavy whoop sounds of rocky chunks impacting and scratching the armor.
Wind whistled past with growing ardor, hissing by like a snake but as though someone had lowered its pitch. The great dialouge of it was eery and frightening as it threw Open Sky around like a ragdoll. She fought for control over this great beast. She was reminded of being plunged under the waves on the beaches of her home, the sensation of drowning despite being so near the surface. Despite having air this time, the lack of control was far greater and frightening.
Open Sky rolled like a barrel cast from a sailing ship, yet thankfully the mass of dust she was in was so thick she became buoyant in it, rising. In pain and acutely aware of the danger, Open Sky leveled herself, and the moved up further. Even now, though, air was pounding against her advance, relentless.
Her wing on the right side slipped an inch.
Shit, was Open Sky's only thought before once again being violently kicked around thanks to her mistake. She tried to move down. Immediately, another blow came. Not helping.
Now she was simply falling back to ground, failing in her mission.
Except... a strange feeling began to fill her as she popped out through the low end of the clouds. With a snap, a purple-black rope bound her up from nowhere. Open Sky became totally paralyzed. The tempo of her heart and breath was so fast it threatened to fail. Something had happened, something she had no control over, and it was about to kill her unless she could just free her wings. Slow her descent. Dodge death. Miraculously save herself.
Suddenly, Open Sky burst through the dirt clouds--at the top this time, the massive star blinding her with a startlingly leviathan presence. Had she just... teleported? It was something she'd barely even heard of, spoken in harsh whispers only in the deepest corners of the most sacred halls of the greatest magical institutions.
The visor of her helmet dimmed to a near-opaque level, only mildly compensating for the beautiful power and ferocity of the dying thing far above. The throes of its horror seemed to drive it to monstrous size.
Open Sky settled on a cloud, and observed the impressive silence of the world about her. Nothing stirred. Her heart settled. The fear left her bones. Far, far below, she could see the point of the shuttle beacon and Discord, each nearly ten thousand meters down. Without her armor, she'd be unable to breathe or to survive the temperature, marked at -85, in spite of the massive star.
With a deep inhalation of her pure, dull air, the pegasus reclined supinely on the soft cushion below her, and looked out at the thousands of others all around, densely packed, as far as the eye could see. Forever. Perpetually stretching out, hardly moving, locked into place while being totally free of chains.
It did no good for the purposes of her "reconnaisance," however. Couldn't see shit from this wonderful view. Oh well.
Steadily, the numbers on her HUD ticked below her, indicating Discord at least was still going. Slow, but moving ever closer. The party was probably about five kilometers out. Open Sky closed her eyes and exhaled, weary from the events of the day. In the space of six hours she'd landed on her ancestor's homeworld, seen some of her good friends vaporized by some unknown hostile force, found four immortal beings in reconciliation, been teleported (still puzzling) and just now was starting to process it all. Open Sky wanted to weep with grief and cry out in a feverish joy, but the two seemed to cancel into mute apathy.
"Nice up here, isn't it?"
Open Sky jumped from her cloud bed, spinning about. Oh thank Celestia, it was just--
Celestia. Oh .
"Y-yeah. I guess it is," Open Sky replied hesitantly. She certainly wasn't expecting company. "How'd you get up here?"
Celestia licked her bare lips, which shone crystalline white in the golden cold. "Discord saw your beacon was erratic and then had stopped moving, so I teleported up here to check on you."
"You can teleport?" Open Sky said incredulously.
The princess looked a little bit bemused, as a mother would when instructing a child--firm, but light. "Yes, of course. I am probably one of the most powerful living beings in existence--at least, on my own. Naturally, I have to draw power from the sun to survive; actually, I'm killing the star. However, were I to die it would fall as well. We were born interlinked."
The pegasus was blank for a moment, unsure of what strain of conversation to pursue first: the star or the teleport. "See, funny thing. I actually started to fall when I was coming up here. Then, all of a sudden, I blinked and boom, here I am. Was that... you?"
Princess Celestia shook her head. "No. There are only two who ever lived capable of external teleportation; that is, moving something a long distance instantaneously without touching it and without going with it. Both are long dead, and I am fairly certain their descendants are unaware of their heritage, they are dead, or they are so far diluted in their genes it wouldn't make a whole lot of difference. As for who it was that moved you, I cannot say. You talked about your friends disappearing before your eyes. Was it like that?"
Open Sky shook her head vigourously. "No, not at all. I was encircled by black strands, but they were consumed in blue, and they were killed. Comparatively, theirs was far more gradual. Not to mention, there were more of them and there was a source." She felt very disconnected as she said it, almost as though her mouth was moving of its own accord.
"Hm." The lack of emotion seemed to consume even the former monarch now, who was looking down, pondering. "Well, I have no ideas. Anyways, aren't you supposed to be scouting ahead for us?"
The pilot huffed. "Heh. I guess there isn't a whole lot of a view up here. Down, then?"
"Down," Celestia replied.
"Race ya'!" Open Sky called.
However, just as she was about to dive headfirst into the clouds and back to the ground-based group, a thunderous roar filled her ears, and the helmet shut off its external audio recievers. The sudden sound made her eyes snap shut, and when she finally opened them again, a storm of massive black craft were swooping down like gigantic birds all around her.
Celestia cried out towards Open Sky, but got no reply. She tapped her shoulder and yelled again when the pegasus turned to her.
The pilot nudged a knob on the side of the helmet, staring into Celestia's face and trying to read her lips.
"--are those things?" The dialouge came in, and even from that snippet Open Sky knew what Celestia was asking.
"It's the destroyer and frigate flotilla that was docked with the Morning Star ," she yelled back, trying desperately to be heard over the incoming spaceships. "I have no clue what they're doing here!"
Celestia became very serious quite quickly. "We need to get back down and get to your shuttle, and with some haste!"
"Agreed. Let's go!" Open Sky replied, wasting no time. Her military mind started to work with a clocklike efficiency. A nagging nugget of anxiety kicked at the rough layers of training, and Open Sky tried to ignore the fear that she'd fuck something up.
Pushing the thought aside, the pilot held her wings to her side and dove after the Princess, who had already begun sailing lower through the clouds.
Once more the mass of dust and debris assaulted the pegasus. She was starting to lose control again, and was furiously waging war with her wings against the onslaught. Gusts threatened to send her flailing and into a deadly spiral. With a practiced ease, she moved with the currents, yet all the while under the impression her training had not prepared her for something.
Open Sky hit the lower layers of the pack of matter that seemed to constitute clouds. Things were a slightly more relaxed here, but she still stayed attentive.
Finally, light bloomed. She was out, out, out, away from the mess of threatening sky. The earth raced forward to meet her fall. Open Sky's wings pulled out slowly, and with a frightful snap caught the wind. More steadily, now, she descended, still at a rocketing pace, yet slower and more controlled. She was probably at terminal velocity, at least.
Once the immortals became figures at the edge of her vision, she countered gravity with her wings, pushing up yet still dropping. Now, though, her speed was almost gone.
They were still moving forward below her. Open Sky tucked herself together and let the armor do its job. A last thump brought her to a stop a good twenty meters ahead of the group.
She rose, waiting. A few moments passed and the group was with her.
"I explained exactly what you told me," Celestia reassured Open Sky. "They know in some sense what is going on."
"Good," was the pegasus' only response.
Chrysalis chimed in sarcastically. "By 'in some sense' she means 'none at all.'"
"To be honest with you, I don't know much either. All I know for right now is that that group of ships was the Morning Star 's support flotilla. We need to get to the shuttle, and find out what's going on," Open Sky tried to list her priorities.
"So we have a plan?" Luna asked.
"Tentatively. When we find out more it will evolve," Open Sky replied.
"A static plan is no plan at all," Luna said, rather sagely.
***************
"Sir, I have readings from the remaining sensors. There are at least ten contacts descending from high orbit, maybe more and possibly less, I can't tell. From size and shape they appear to be the Wings of Harmony flotilla," Wesley said from his post in the compact shuttle.
"They're here? Oh thank Celestia, we're saved, it's over, yes!" Harrier called from his hiding corner.
"Marine, I get the feeling the shows' just about to begin. Don't mean to be the downer, but don't get your hopes up," Captain Ares said flatly. "Wesley, can you use the point-to-point and get a signal to one of the ships?"
Eastley chimed in quickly, blue fur appearing from nowhere, voice rattling. "The odds of hitting the relay on a moving target of the sizes present is astronomically low, something like one in one thousand. No, exactly one in one thousand eighty three point four," the unicorn did all of the calculations in his head while his eyes stared blankly off into nothing.
"Like he said, sir, they're too fast and too small to get a straight shot." Wesley continued.
"Distress beacon is wide-range long distance. Possible to reroute the signal? Failure could destroy beacon and point-to-point laser relay, rendering communication impossible," Eastley's mouth moved at an incredible rate, spewing out words.
Ares nodded thoughtfully, and said, "Wes, it's your choice. The beacon is shot, but we might be able to repair it. If we fail it's toast. We could scrap it immediately and send our message through it. Your call, since you know more about this kind of stuff."
Wes bit his lower lip and pondered, sucking in breaths periodically. "We'll reroute the signal. East, could y-"
"Done," Eastley said, still telekinetically holding bits of metal.
"Alrighty then. I might just be able to make this work..." Wesley said, and his horn's magic pressed furiously on a holographic keyboard.
Several minutes passed in complete silence, aside from the out of place beeps from the keyboard being tapped.
"Almost there... got it!" Wesley cried out triumphantly, front hoof raised. "I've tricked the beacon and the point-to-point computers into thinking they are compatible--which they are, thanks to Eastley's speedy tinkering. I can say anything to them, Captain. What's the word?"
"Send them our coordinates and explain everything that has happened since landing. If possible, get me a connection."
Wesley typed at a furious, breakneck pace. When he was done, one reply appeared on screen:
WINGS OF HARMONY SHUTTLE 2 INBOUND FOR PICKUP
Then:
ETA TWELVE MINUTES
"Nothing after that, sir. Cuts right off," Wesley stated the obvious.
"Well, we'll be out of here soon, at least. I, for one, am ready to leave."
The frigate burned a trail across the sky, barely slowing down from its exo-atmospheric speed. The particles around it were literally on fire from the friction between the ESD vessel and the air, licking the metal plates of the hull.
"Brake in 3... 2... 1..."
With a thunderous clapping the rocket brake engaged. The jets pressed in vain, just barely limiting acceleration and lowering the velocity of the craft.
"Cutting engines..."
Everything went silent aside from the whistling of the wind past the stabilizers.
"Terminal velocity."
A few more seconds passed.
"Engaging landing sequence..."
With the lightest of poofs, the frigate disappeared--
--and came back down immediately outside the damaged shuttle, sending up a massive dust cloud that was peculiarly silent.
***************
EXTERNAL AUXILLARY AUDIO ACTIVE
RECORDING...
[sound of hydraulic pistons]
[hoofsteps]
LIEUTENANT COMMANDER: Wasn't expecting that...
LIEUTENANT OPEN SKY: What was that, LC?
LC: Nothing.
UNKNOWN: Your ships are capable of teleportation?
OPEN SKY: Not the same way you can. It's more manipulation of time rather than of space--which, interestingly, is fairly easy. I'll tell you more later.
CAPTAIN: Well then. Perry, what's the situation?
LC: Might want to explain that inside, Captain.
CAPTAIN: Very well.
[hoofsteps]
END RECORD
***************
Asakira's breath came in ragged chunks. There was nothing around her but darkness--not absence of light, but a true, full, claustrophobic, open, darkness. At some points it seemed as though she were on a tightrope spanning an impossible gap--at others, stuffed into the smallest of tunnels. It made her want to weep.
The area she was in smelled of wet metal, and her mouth tasted like nickel. This was probably an air duct she found herself wriggling through, looking for an exit. Everything was down--all of her electronics, et cetera. That meant no map for her to navigate with.
"Lost" was the most frightening word for her. It described everything in her life to that point--every failure, every misstep, every decision. Even here, it pervaded her being.
The Marine wanted to cry even more.
Get a hold of yourself, for once, dammit, part of her mind told. You can make it. Just keep going.
For a solid minute, she remained in place. Then, with a deep breath and a steeling of her character, Asakira continued crawling.
Slogging through the rivers of alien planets and climbing near-insurmountable heights would never have prepared the still mostly-green soldier for this. Soon, it was agonizing to drag herself one more meter. Movement became a trial against her personality, a challenge Asakira wasn't ready for. Her hooves and body scraped along the paneled floor of the vent, pulling vainly. Her will was gone. As Asakira's armor had left in the teleport, she was bare and naked.
Thirst became another concern in those hours. Of course, she had no water. The last drink she had was in the mess hall eight hours prior to the attack. Pain in her head and stomach soon coupled with a clogged nostril.
Being a unicorn, Asakira tried to fix it with magic. Her energy was nearly gone, however, and it was barely effective.
A sheen of sweat built up from her scrabbling. The pits of Asakira's arms, her neck, and nearly everywhere else was soaked, wasting even more valuable bodily fluids.
Finally, she saw a light. Her pace increased significantly. There was freedom. There was sovereignty. There was her second chance.
As it happened, the destination was much further than Asakira predicted. At least twenty minutes came in between her discovery and the end of the journey.
Naturally, that was only the first leg of a horrible, belly-based marathon.
The light had reflected from an opening around a corner; another half hour took her to the grate that it passed through.
To Asakira's beleaugered eyes, the minimal source of visibility was dazzling to the unicorn after the trek. It was only a single, sparking red emergency light, looking out over the room, a snoring sentinel.
With haste and shaking hooves, Asakira pushed off the grate. Getting out was much harder than magically popping in, as she had. However, a few minutes of squeezing got her through. Wth a thump, she hit the floor. The noise echoed ominously in the silence.
At roughly five-second intervals, the light would go out. It returned, painting a picture of death.
The body of a stallion crewpony was slumped against the far wall of the room, about five meters away diagonally from Asakira. It looked like he hadn't gone without some struggle. A rather surprising pool of blood surrounded him and his pistol, which seemed empty of any charge.
"Sorry," was all she could say as she snatched it from his corpse, avoiding his blood. Hopefully something to load it with was around.
A door was briefly illuminated by the light, on the same side as the wall, and through it Asakira dove.
It appeared that she had the fortune (or misfortune) to land in the plentifully stocked armory. The walls were lined with racks of equipment, a variety of sorts ranging from hand grenades to laser rifles.
Asakira strapped on armor and acquired a collection of firearms, including charges for the pistol, an energy carbine and ammunition, a sniper rifle with rounds, and a grenade launcher.
The former two she levitated by her sides, while the latter clipped to magnetic hooks on armor. The ammunition for her new arsenal found similar homes in pouches and slots lining the plates.
A flashlight was built into the black, all-purpose unicorn combat armor. Asakira pressed her chin to the left side of the helmet, and it snapped to life, brightening the dark area that was only lit by red emergency lights along the ceiling.
She made her way between rows of gear, with a map of the Morning Star open on the helmet's Heads-Up Display. Asakira really had no idea where she should go; perhaps off the ship. The flotilla had unlocked, so joining them wasn't an option. An escape pod could take her to the surface, or to one of the flotilla's ships; then again, she might be detected and shot down before there was any hope of rescue.
In any case, she decided to move towards the hangars. With no clue as to any other course of action, Asakira thought that at least she could try to find survivors of the attack and gather together. Throughout the whole of her movement through the ship's ventilation systems, no one had tried to contact her, by radio or otherwise. It was certainly possible that--
A flash of light in the dim glow of her own was accompanied by a low humming, hissing noise that cut off her thoughts. Asakira flicked off the flashlight and ducked behind a crate of stack of grenade boxes as a small, floating blue crystal skimmed the floor. She poked her head out. All Asakira saw was the crystal, twisting as it flew, as if scanning for something.
Her back hoof shifted. Thump against the box of grenades. The crystal stopped. Turned. The shape shifted red and emitted a blaring honk.
A hoof dragged Asakira downwards with the tiniest of yelps through a hidden trap door.
"Shhh," came a voice over the helmet's speakers.
Above, the crystal emitted a dying bleat, and carried on its search.
"Don't make any noise around the Seekers," the stallion continued, still holding her leg in place with an iron grip.
"Who are you?' Asakira replied, careful to send it through comms and not external audio. She still couldn't see her newfound savior.
"The name's Lokir. A Marine, like you. I got separated from my unit," he said, and let go. "I've been wandering around for a few hours, grabbing supplies and avoiding these... things. From what I've gathered, they're semi-organic machines. Follow me, and I'll tell you more."
He slipped in front of her and walked, away from the meager light coming through the trapdoor's grate. After about five minutes, Lokir flicked on a flashlight. His armor was thick, white, and had a plate shield attached to the left foreleg. He was an earth pony charger, then. A cannon was mounted onto a rotating ring on his right shoulder, white like the armor.
Soon, he stopped at what appeared to be a maintenance hatch. Slowly, he pushed it open, and in they went.
"My humble abode," he grumbled, lifting his shield leg in a presentory manner. The space was small, maybe fifteen by fifteen feet. A cot was laid out, with a pack resting on the side. Otherwise, it appeared totally bare, aside from another red emergency light. There was one door immediately across from the entrance, presumably further into the maintenance caverns.
Asakira observed all this with little disdain. It was good to be in company with someone again, despite the circumstances. "Thanks for saving me back there. By the way, how'd you know what that thing was? Do you know what's going on?" she asked.
"I've determined some things, but I guess I should start from the beginning. I was asleep when the attack started. My squad organized, and we started to piece together what happened. We tried to repel the boarders, but everything happened so fast... the rest of my unit has been dead or lost by a few hours. They came at us from everywhere. It was a mess... ambush after ambush. Eventually I found my way here, where I've been camped out, snooping around. Doesn't look like a whole lot of other ponies made it, or they're staying quiet, like me. I really hope it's the latter," Lokir finished.
"I'm sorry for your losses... but I'm sure many of your friends are just hidden. Don't worry about it. They're soldiers, like us. They can handle themselves. It's okay," Private Asakira comforted Lokir.
"Thanks for the notion, but I've seen too much death today to think it true. You're right, though. We're soldiers... I guess I should start acting like it," He paused for a few moments, eyes locked on the large metal tiles on the floor.
"There appear to be several variants of these machines, ranging from bipedal assault platforms, which I dubbed Walkers, bear-like things, the Maulers, a few tracked vehicles, EV platforms, Flyers, and, of course, Seekers, who appear to be looking for survivors. If they find you, they set off an alarm and attempt to mark you. Unfortunately, I know from experience." Lokir said, rather sullen.
"I've seen the Walkers and the Maulers, and I guess the Seekers, too," Asakira replied. "I don't really know what to do about them, though. Everyone's dead, as far as I can tell."
Lokir shook his head. "I'm not so sure. I've seen others, but we didn't communicate or group together for fear of being discovered."
They remained silent for a while, and soon found themselves sitting on the cot, not doing much.
Suddenly, Asakira remembered her thirst. "Got any water?"
Lokir pulled a canteen from the pack and gave it to her. Greedily, she gulped down the fluid. It was like the bliss of heaven flowed through the parched pony. Nothing compared to the feeling she had at that moment.
"Thanks," was all she could manage.
"Yep. It's no problem--there are plenty of fresh water pipes that you can open up and take from, especially down here," Lokir said, indicating those immediately above, running through the ceiling.
"So, what should we do from here?" Asakira asked him.
He thought for a moment, entirely silent. "It's likely they've locked down the hangars and the escape pods. If we try to leave, we'll have to fight our way to escape. The two of us could probably overwhelm some of the weaker invaders, so observation and timing is key. We have to strike at their weakest links and make a break for something we can leave with. If there's no method of escape, then..."
"We'll engage the engines' self-destruct," Asakira finished quietly.
"I hope it doesn't come to that," Lokir said, slipping away from the mind of a tactician into a lower tone. Something darker entered his voice--something afraid, something ready--but still, afraid.
"Do you have a family?" Asakira asked him, a little bit out of the blue.
"Not much to speak of. My immediate family is dead or gone, most of the rest likewise; anyone else, I haven't spoken to in ages. I don't know if I'll be able to get that chance again. Ugh... it's hopeless. You ask about my family, and all I can think of is a shattered boulder," Lokir surmised.
She exhaled and paused before speaking again. "Well, I guess you'll just have to live long enough to make your own, huh? It's not quite over yet; we still have a war left in us. Come on, we should move. The sooner we know what we're up against, the better. No more drowning in doubts."
He nodded. "You're right. Okay, let's go." He sat up and began packing up his hideout with increasing speed. Asakira took some of their supplies, and they offloaded the bulk weight. What they did take was some food, water, canteens, ammunition, and other very bare essentials. Staying light on the feet was critical.
Lokir lead the way through the other door, moving silently through the maintenance passageways, despite the weight, his shield, and his weapons. Asakira did her best and had a temporary invisibility spell lined up. When they encountered any patrols, she'd be able to hide them, at least for a short while.
The tight corridors were sparsely lit, and the pair did not deign to add any more luminescence lest they be discovered somehow. Accoding to the map in her armor, Asakira saw that they were slowly ascending, towards the bays, or at least to an escape pod.
Lokir seemed steadfast and determined in the light of Asakira's peptalk. The unicorn herself, however, was reasonably apprehensive. She didn't want to call the terrible feeling in her gut fear--she hated combat, and loathed it all the more in spite and because of her prior experience with that fickle dancing partner.
It was good for her to be with someone. Alone, she'd die. With Lokir by her side, Asakira had at least a feeling of some safety, a sense of strength in numbers. Considering by her own logic the fact that the enemy was stronger, that idea faded significantly.
They did have firepower on their side, at least in a one-on-one standoff. The carbine, pistol, rifle and grenade launcher provided a wide range of ability coupled with her magic. Lokir had his shield and the nearly impenetrable armor, along with shoulder-mounted laser cannon and eight-guage shotgun.
About an hour had passed from their departure when they hit an exit into a hangar. A clear glass door marked the exit, with sterile white light filtering in from the chamber.
As Lokir stepped forward to go through, Asakira put a hoof on his shoulder, stopping him. When he turned around, she activated the spell, and they both faded away. Only the softest bending of light at the edges of their forms would give them away. The spell protected against thermal and radar signatures as well, so the both of them would be quite invisible.
The door slid open onto a catwalk that stretched around the bay. The platform was located near the high ceiling--only about three body lengths separated Asakira from the tiles and electronic lights.
Below, one of the enemy boarding craft was docked--or rather, crashed. It rent the floor in a wide canyon as it had come in, judging by the split in the plates on the floor of the bay. The plates withstood the heat from takeoff thrusters--the craft had to have come in with a lot of energy to do damage like that.
As for allied vehicles, two fighters were locked in place by magnets and roughly the level of the catwalk. A second walkway stretched out to meet their cockpits. On the floor of the room, a basic transport shuttle was waiting, but a few Walkers of varying size and armament strutted along beside. Several of them had what appeared to be EVA maneuvering packs on them, and a few were very large and looked like they had anger issues.
"Doesn't look like we're going that way," Asakira whispered into her comm. They couldn't hear her, but she liked to be safe.
"Well, we can always try those fighters," Lokir suggested. Asakira nodded her agreement, and the set off around the bay to the other side, where they reached the craft.
They were composed of a central cockpit and two engine/weapon compartments. These were arranged in a sandwhich, so it almost looked like a hotdog where half the meat was eaten. The hatches opened at the movement, though they were thankfully silent.
"Do you know how to fly one?" Lokir asked.
"Only what they taught us for emergencies. Like this, I guess."
"Me too. Alright, it looks like we could fit in one, or split up. Your call."
"I'd like not to keep all of our eggs in one basket, but I'm pretty sure I could spread the cloak to one of them--but only one. The distances involved in space would be too much for me to handle."
"Okay. I would wager to say you're better at the finesse stuff, so maybe you should take the wheel," Lokir suggested.
Asakira grunted. "Make me do all the work, eh? Well, I liked flying anyways, from what I remember of doing it." Actually, she'd almost become a pilot. Shooting people with magic and controlling aircraft were her two main strong suits. However, she was better with magic, and they typically preferred pegasi in the air force anyways because they supposedly had better instinct.
She climbed in the left of the two, closer to the entrance they'd come in from. Lokir got in behind, and Asakira shut the hatch. Quickly, she ran a systems check, and counted down.
"Strapped in? Okay... 3... 2... 1... go."
She cloaked her new bird as soon as the power came on. A magical aura from her horn gripped the yoke, and shoved it forward to maximum speed. The engines hummed to life with a deep whirring noise, and before the guards knew what had happened to the second fighter in the hanger, they were out, speeding away from the Morning Star .
Private Asakira was fairly rusty at her flying. To be safe, she ran diagnostics on all the systems, from the missiles in her control to Lokir's laser cannon mounted on the back of the craft. They sped away from the supercruiser-turned-science-vessel, heading towards Equus single moon.
"Engines, check. Weapons, check. Oxygen, check. Check, check, check, check. Alright, Lokir, where to?" she asked. Asakira herself had assumed they were going to try to meet up with the flotilla.
"Head to the surface. I think that's where the Wings of Harmony went, so we should try to get to them, maybe meet up and hopefully stage a counterattack," he said.
"I thought the same. Alright, plotting a course for planet ent--" She was cut off by a loud alarm signaling a target lock. "Oh, fuck! I'm taking evasive action. How the hell did--"
A laser flashed across the energy shields built into the sides of the craft, nearly breaking them.
Asakira had cloaked the entire ship except for the inside of the cockpit. Unless they had a visual identification, which would be damned near impossible, they should have been scot-free.
Unless...
"Lokir! Look for a tracking device!"
"On it!"
He started ruffling around in the seat behind her, scrabbling around to see where something like that would be located.
"I got nothing," he said, giving up.
"Damn. It's probably on the outside, th--" Asakira started, but once more was stopped with the whine of the alarm, indicating incoming fighters.
"Interceptors!" the earth pony cried out, coming to the same conclusion.
"Can you get a bead on them?"
Lokir shook his head furiously. "No, they're too fast."
Asakira weaved around for a few moments, thinking. "We can't lead them toward the flotilla; they'll be decimated," she decided, finally.
Of course, that didn't mean she was giving up.
The craft veered about, and faced the Morning Star , and the new found attackers that came with it.. She thumbed the missile control, and began to pick up speed again..
The stars blurred with the speed. The Morning Star was growing larger every second--along with the enemy.
Beeeeeeeep came the tone of a good lock. Her telekinetic grip on the yoke stretched to the buttons, pressing them hastily.
With an odd silence, the missiles slipped forth like wind, targeting the two separate ships. In a flash, they'd overtaken them, Lokir was firing the rotating laser backwards, and she couldn't see her own work as the main cannon of the Morning Star came back into full view. A point-defense laser ripped a tear along the starboard engine. The fighter leaned, and Asakira struggled to compensate. Another beam across, and a third and fourth. The ship was coming apart in her hooves.
The massive railgun along the top of the supercruiser was an open compartment, large enough for their fighter to squeeze into. For the moment, it seemed the best option for Private Asakira. They fell into a cavern of steel dominated by the gun, the impromptu escape craft still moving at an incredibly dangerous pace.
Asakira hit the missiles again as they were about to slam through the bulkhead. The projectiles cut her a path down through a chunk of hollow space. She followed, diving in. Fired again.
Too slow.
The explosives rent another hole, but the bits smacked against Asakira's craft, and the tumble was complete. She had no control as they dropped, stone-like, into the belly of the beast.
The bridge of the Wings of Harmony was a large space, and square in nature. There was a central pyramid of steps leading up to a holographic table display in the center, and the entire room was surrounded by consoles of various use and make. These descended in a similar pyramid fashion to the holotable space, but there were larger distances involved. Three tiers in all led up to the top, which was level with a catwalk that connected the bridge to the rest of the destroyer.
It was, in fact, larger than the bridge of it's mother ship, the supercruiser Morning Star . This was by design--in case of emergency, it could be counted on to fit all of the important people from the self-sustaining miniature fleet in one space. As it happened, that purpose was being fulfilled.
The commanding officer of the flottila, Commodore Trotsky, greeted his own CO. "Captain Ares. It is good to see you alive and well."
The Commodore was gray coated, a muscular pegasus reaching his later years. He had facial hair that extended over his lip to connect to a thick mane of blackness covered by a service cap. Trotsky carried himself with an air of formality, offset by jagged scars. His eyes were the steel of his flotilla, scything into enemies as a laser, and welcoming friends with a strange, fatherly gruffness that made one feel almost safe, but slightly uneasy.
The Commodore was on one side of the holotable, his back facing the dominating window and display that made itself master of the room. The blackness of space was punctured by stars, illuminating the area beyond the sea blue light from the magical fixtures.
On Trotsky's right was Commander Nightbeam, a thin, wiry unicorn with cunning eyes. His brown mane and blue coat had an interesting effect with the lighting, making him seem almost invisible. He supervised the frigate Sunstrider , a stealth vessel.
His left found Illiraes, Commander of the Falador . Illiraes was a large earth pony, white of coat and mane, which seemed in contrast to his jovial, messy manner.
Others, lesser officers and various crew from the Wings of Harmony itself, were also arrayed behind the three prominent ponies.
Across the way, Captain Ares Sol returned Trotsky's sentiment with a nod. "You too, Commodore. You may have noticed that I brought some friends."
On the edge of the steps at his left, Chrysalis stood regal and determined, proud despite the stares she was given by many of the crew. A changeling was something very new indeed. Despite this, the former queen showed a face of pure confidence and ability--though Ares suspected some doubt lay beneath Chrysalis' proclivity to superiority.
Luna was closer in, an imposing figure at about twice the size of most regular ponies, even considering her severe physical atrophy over her stranded millenia. Through her endless blue eyes, Ares saw something similar to Chrysalis' cockiness, but with a softer, caring tone. He felt as though he had a mother hidden in there, someone to calm his fears and tell him there were no monsters in the dark--even if he was certain there were.
A smooth black-and-yellow mane cascaded over an indifferent, freckled face. Lieutenant Open Sky always seemed bored or angry. Still, the Captain got the sense that she had something to prove.
Perry was immediately to Ares' left, a close-cut figure of precision. However, he was hardly more than a colt to the Captain. Despite his sensitivity and shyness, though, the kid had a good nature, and a natural sense of things around him.
Wesley made himself appear as intelligent as he could, and maintained an I-don't-even-know-this-guy face as Eastley was doing his best to be extraordinarily awkward with Discord. Celestia was in between the two sporadic entities, and appeared amazingly indifferent to them.
"Yes. And you all might be?..." Trotsky indicated the foreigners.
"Queen Chrysalis of the Changelings," the insect pony trumpeted proudly.
"Princess Luna, Servant of the Realm, Bringer of Night," said the dark alicorn.
"Lieutenant Open Sky, sir."
"Oh, uh... I am Dr. Wesley Reid. I specialize in material science and astrophysics," Wesley said. "This is my brother Eastley," he continued, nodding his head to his brother, who snickered strangely.
Celestia stepped forward. "I am Princess Celestia, Servant of the Realm, and Bringer of Day."
Discord coughed a little ahem and followed up, saying "I am the Lord of Chaos, Discord." The sound of a short wind fanfare flickered briefly, evidently conjured from the enigmatic Discord himself.
"Alrighty then. It's good to meet you all. I'll have you in your own quarters shortly so you can get some rest. In the meantime, Ares, we need to find out explaining what happened to the Morning Star," Trotsky finished the greetings.
"Agreed. If you would?" Ares asked.
"Surely," Trotsky replied, and a holographic projection of the solar system exploded onto the table between the newcomers and the officers.
"We are here," Trotsky said, pointing with a hoof to the location of the flotilla, holding postion on the sun side of Equus. "The Morning Star is on the other side of the planet, along with an unidentified vessel of massive proportions. We detached when they engaged each other in combat. Scout drones patrolling the area discovered that both ships are sitting seemingly derelict. However, faint signatures of life are evident, leading us to believe that the Morning Star has been boarded. If not, then there are at least some survivors onboard--both situations are possible at this point.
"The unkown quarry is still extremely dangerous. It does not register anywhere in any database onboard, and its appearance and method of engagement is unlike anything I've ever seen."
Ares nodded. "Are you sure it isn't some pirate dreadnought? It's doubtful, but it's all I can think of."
Trotsky shook his head. "Pirates, sir? It's nearly twice the size of the Morning Star by my estimate, at least. Not to mention it took over the ship in less than three hours, and our scouts have found multiple fighter patrols. Furthermore, raiders wouldn't be all the way out here. There's no life in this system for them to leech from. It could be a hiding post, but we detected a single jump in before the assault. If this was a hideout, there would be more."
"Yet what else could it be? Why would we be attacked so far to the edge of ESF space? It doesn't make sense," Ares argued.
"I know. But... the evidence points to something else. Scout drones can't tell for certain, nor even manned patrols. What do we do?" Trotsky replied.
The question hung in the air, quietly slipping through the minds of those listening. It was evident in the shifting hooves, the twitching ears, a few cautious, speedy glances. Eyes locked for imperceptible moments. What do we do? It was a perspiration-inducing thought. What do we do? The words came again, echoing without noise through the bridge.
What do we do?
The Captain thought for a moment. After a long, anxious wait, he finally spoke up. It was both relief and pain to hear: "The only thing we can do: take back the Morning Star."
****************************
Darkness swallowed her whole.
The empty void before whispered quietly around her body, while at the same time it crushed her with impenetrable force. She was winded by agony and showered in pure ecstasy. It was the strangest feeling she'd ever experienced... yet, somehow, it had a certain... harmony. Harmony. The word felt funny, as though it was a friend she'd known for a while that had suddenly changed personalities and found new meaning.
Harmony. Harmonyharmonyharmony. Har. Mon. Y.
She knew it wasn't, but it sounded... almost... maybe...
Like a name?
It was a question, though she wasn't certain if her mind had produced it.
A name.
Not her.
You.
Immediately she became frightened. It seemed as though a huge mass was speeding in, threating to tangle her in vines of malice and swallow her whole in some horrificly scary fashion shecouldherscreamsscreamsofagonypainhurtrunrunawayquickly
Shhhh... it's okay...
If she could feel her heart, she knew it would be racing.
Quiet now... Mommy's here...
She wasn't certain if that was supposed to be comforting or scary.
Creepy or cute.
Ugly or pretty.
Mean or nice.
Nice or mean?
Nice and mean.
Harmony.
That was the being in her mind, snuggling against her absent heart and clawing it apart.
Harmony.
That's me.
Wait, waitwaitwait. What was that "mommy" thing?
I'm your mother.
Slow the fuck up here. Her mother's name was not Harmony.
Depends how far back we're going here.
She wanted an explanation.
What's the name of that guy's mother?
Wait, who's that--wait, when did I--this doesn't even make sense--okay, so this guy that's here with... us...
You.
Me... Anyways, I don't know his mother's name. You're dodging the question.
His mother's name is Harmony.
I'm seriously not getting this. He's not... my... our... brother.
But he is. And all these people...
Names of old friends, relatives, and in fact everyone she'd ever met came flitting by.
Their mother is Har... wait. The fuck? What in the fucking fuck? You're not... what. WHAT?
I am the Alpha and Omega. The beginning, and the end. I am the mother of all of the creatures that ever have lived. My Elements once spread the words and power of peace throughout time and space. Now they are separated, pulled apart. You are a segment of Magic, the sixth Element of Harmony. You are one of my daughters. I imbued you with magical properties of reincarnation. Unlike my other creatures, who die and stay with me, you are a keeper of the realm. All six Elements together represent all of my power. In a way, you are me. You are magic, you are friendship, you are harmony. I am Magic, I am Friendship, and I am Harmony.
You might know me better, child, as Twilight Sparkle.
***************
Private Asakira awoke slowly. Sparks flickered overhead from broken wires. The fighter's cockpit was open. The display came on and off. It wasn't very constant. Behind her, a stallion breathed deeply. She turned, and there he was, unconscious. With her suit's assistance and her magic, she checked both of their vitals. Neither of them had sustained major injuries. Two casts of spells and they were fine. Good as new.
With that, she leaned back in the pilot's chair and tried to discern the strange dream she'd just had. It was quite vivid, but there was no way it could be real...
Right?
She certainly knew what--or rather, who--Harmony was. She was a mythical god-being that had lived millions of years past when ponies and the other creatures were still stuck on Equestria. Supposedly, she'd created everything that had ever been alive on Equestria. Another common name for her was "the Mother."
Asakira never really believed in all the religious bullcrap. It was just some voodoo stuff ponies probably made up way back when. If Harmony had ever existed and had ever created that Princess Celestia, then how could the solar system follow a heliocentric model? After all, Celestia supposedly raised and lowered the sun, but for millennia prior to ponies becoming spacefaring, they'd known they orbited the star, not the other way around.
She knew the dream couldn't have been real, but that still wouldn't explain why the thoughts had come to her in the first place--and why they were nagging her so in her waking hours.
Sitting up in the seat, she decided to ignore the sensation for now and began trying to wake Lokir. Prodding and shaking did little to rouse him from his rest. Not knowing where they were, Asakira did not wish to risk speaking loudly. Unfortunately, for everything she did, Lokir carried on dozing.
Asakira's attention slowly drifted back to the dream. Twilight Sparkle... that was a name she knew. Twilight Sparkle, the Supreme Empress of the ESF until she disappeared in 1.054.10 AL (1,054,100 After Launch of the first ESF starship). That was about a thousand years ago. No one ever figured out what happened to her, but she had left behind plans for a government to take her stead if she was ever assassinated or somehow deposed. Asakira remembered hearing about how the Elements of Harmony were once a potent magical weapon, powered by the individual magic of specially selected ponies. Supposedly, all of the Elements aside from Sparkle had died on Equestria and never resurfaced in other forms. Thus, the Elements were dead relics, and at that moment they were probably sitting in some museum.
It was strange to the Marine; after all, she'd never really thought about those ancient times with any sort of intent. Personally, Asakira minded her own business and tried to stay out of the way of anything big or spiritually involving like that.
Despite even this, Asakira had also felt two other... presences in the dream, aside from the Mother and herself. The being had seemed to relate the three of them as sisters. They'd even responded to the Mother's words together. When they came into the vision, it felt like her mind had melded with theirs, and they shared their experiences.
As Asakira tried to recall those experiences, a sharp pain jabbed through her chest. She made a sort of heavy noise that she stopped from becoming a scream.
A hoof touched her shoulder.
"You okay?" a slurred and sleepy voice came from Lokir.
"I-I think so. Are you?" Asakira replied cautiously. She wasn't sure what had just come over her.
Lokir rubbed his eyes. "Yeah... yeah, I'm all good. Ugh... Where are we?"
Asakira looked around into the dark corridor before her. It was empty and black from what she could see, which wasn't much.
"We're definitely back on the Morning Star , probably somewhere between the bridge and the main gun, but hell if I know," Asakira whispered.
Lokir was quiet for a moment. "I'll check my armor's map," he said quietly.
Asakira waited patiently. The air was chilled and stale. Suddenly, she remembered the tracking device.
"Lokir, the tracker!"
"Oh shit, you're right--wait. If it was still functioning, wouldn't they have found us by now?" he asked.
Asakira nodded, saying, "Yeah, I guess so. Still, we might want to be careful."
"Agreed," Lokir said. He pushed himself out of the chair and started to climb down. It would be impossible for him to leave the cramped space without her going first, so Asakira stepped out into the hallway, sliding off of the fighter's nose with a light clang . Lokir hopped down beside her.
"Ready?" Lokir asked.
Asakira sucked in a breath. "As I'll ever be."
"Then we're off!"
The whole thing had almost started to become an adventure for Lokir, as he took the lead. If the entire situation wasn't so horrible, the unicorn might have enjoyed it too.
The earth pony was walking straight through the lights in the center of the hallway, and from a glance at her own map, Asakira knew they were heading back to his hideout. She prefered to stay in the shadows during their journey. It was a prayer that they'd save her like they always had.
******************
Masara's eyes flicked open.
Her back was against a bulkhead in some dark corridor. The smell of blood was around her.
The Marine lifted her head up and glanced around. There were silhoutted shapes on the deck before Masara, and it only took her a moment to discern what they were.
Bodies.
The thought came to her passively. It offered no further explanation of itself--only that it was there. Masara wondered which souls had once been inside those corpses, and if she knew any of them.
The dream-voice lingered in her head. It was a strange vision, definitely. Twilight Sparkle...
Masara was never one for superstition, but it almost made her think something was about to happen. Something... important. Well, things had already started to happen--but the feeling was... different than the one she had before the battle had occurred. It was less of the blood-boiling rage and more of a happiness amidst sorrow.
The Marine had difficulty with emotions.
Typically, she felt one of three things--apathy, anger, or compassion. Apathy for when she wasn't killing something, anger when she was, and compassion for the ponies in her command. The new things stirring within Masara were confusing. She couldn't quite grasp what they were.
Resigning herself to think about them when she was safer, Masara picked herself up and turned on her armor's computer. It flickered into action, though the system was clearly damaged. Some of the readings were marked NOT AVAILABLE or otherwise corrupted. Masara set the computer's priority to vital sign detection, magical amplification, and navigation. She shut down the rest of the processes, aside from her communications module.
Time to get a move on, she thought to herself.
The map of the Morning Star that was built into the suit indicated that she was near the lower hangars. Masara expected those to be infested with the mysterious enemy, so she marked out a course that would lead her to the bridge. That would also be dangerous, but it would probably give her a better idea of what was going on.
Masara turned on her flashlight and sped to a trot, looking for an entrance to a maintenance passage. Avoiding big thoroughfares would probably keep her hidden.
There was one right off the side of the hall, and she ducked in. The path wound its way around the core of the ship for a solid half kilometer.
Midway through her ascent around the reactor area, Masara heard a high-pitched buzzing noise. She glanced around, looking for the source.
Turning around, the Marine found it. A small drone floated on a single rotor, with a central eye that seemed bluish. When it saw her, the eye turned red, and it emitted a beep.
Masara cocked an eyebrow at the thing. It couldn't see through her visor, of course, but she was suspicious.
It beeped again.
Suddenly, from an air duct, at least twenty more of the machines came zipping out.
"That can't be good."
Masara turned and took off up the incline, racing to get around the corners where the machines couldn't see her. They pursued her through the compact passageway, several smacking into the walls because they couldn't turn in time.
The path straightened out, and Masara saw running lights ahead. She forced herself to go faster--
--and immediately started to slow when she saw the elevator shaft in front of her.
"Shit!"
The drones were almost on top of her. Masara flipped and shot out a magical grenade. Only a moment later did she realize the folly of her act. The close quarters would probably send her flying into the lift shaft. Time seemed to slow as the mid-leap Masara tried to hopelessly dodge, unable to do anything but wait for the inevitable--
Boom.
**************
Open Sky sat up huffing and puffing in the bunk.
That was one hell of a dream , she thought.
The Element of Harmony herself, come to visit in the night? Maybe she was going crazy. That would explain a lot. Heck, sitting in a mental ward was probably better than her current situation. She was on a ship that couldn't jump thanks to the massive titan that blockaded her exit from Equus' gravity well. The flotilla of the capital ship she had once lived on was now planning some kind of assault to take back the Morning Star and use it to destroy the enemy.
It wasn't a great situation. And now she was feeling compelled to go on some stupid quest to get back the "Elements of Harmony" or some shit.
Being crazy would definitely be better.
She tried to go to sleep again, but the whole room was snoring up a storm. The Marines were not quiet sleepers. Open Sky wished she could have just stayed with fellow pilots. They were at least decent on the hygene part.
With that, the Lieutenant started to think about the dream. That fact alone was worth noting. Most of the time, she couldn't remember dreaming at all at night.
Open Sky was a fairly spiritual person. Sure, she never prayed at any shrines or anything, but in her times exploring the galaxy the ESF called home, Open Sky came to the conclusion there had to be something else bigger than her. She often thought about life's "big questions" in her spare time. However, this was something else. The dream had seemed almost real. It was quite strange indeed.
Could it have actually been Twilight Sparkle contacting her from... wherever she was? It didn't seem possible. Open Sky had learned to trust her gut, though, and it was telling her that the dream was no dream at all.
At that point, she was feeling tired again, so Open Sky drifted off to sleep.
Twilight.
It's been a long time.
I thought I was done dealing with ghosts.
Not quite.
So, child... why have you come to disturb my waking rest?
'Child' might not be the best word.
You'll always be a child to me. You'll always be my child--my little Twilight Sparkle. But perhaps we should cut to the chase, hm?
We have time to catch up.
That may be true. How have these many years been to you, my student?
They have been good, and they have been bad. Ruling the conscious universe and defending it from peril is never an easy task.
True enough, though you might know more than me on that. Speaking of which, how have your studies gone in these many years?
For a time, they went exceedingly well. Exploring this wondrous universe is a journey like no other. Sadly, adventuring is quite dangerous, and... I'm dead. The enemies you now face are the same that ended the Twilight Sparkle you once knew. They are beyond this universe. They have come from another, and seek to destroy all things good that exist here.
You show up in such a hurry to tell me the stakes are higher than once thought? You wouldn't do that... unless...
Unless I needed your help. The Elements of Harmony have never resurfaced since the death of my friends. I never had to use them during my tenure as a ruler, but you need to find them. They are the most powerful artifacts in this universe. You are the original bearer of Magic. Reunite the Elements and this place might have a chance for survival.
In my many thousands of days guiding you, I came to trust you. Twilight, if this is true, I will do as you ask. I suspect I will be joining you soon, however.
No. Unfortunately, my dearest teacher, you must live a little while longer yet.
*****************
Lokir and Asakira both sat on the edge of the cot, thinking. At the time, they were trying to think of some way to either get off of the Morning Star and leave the system, or counter the boarders.
It was easier said than done, to be sure. Whatever had attacked had complete control. From the regular observations the pair made from the ventilation ducts, they had patrols walking the corridors and a total lockdown on major systems. For whatever reason, they wanted the ship, or something on it.
Both Marines were armed to the teeth thanks to multiple trips to the nearby armory. A full frontal assault wouldn't do, though--stealth was the key part, since many of the organic machines could resist the weapons they had.
"The self-destruct," Asakira finally spoke. "If we can activate it, we can get to an escape pod or perhaps the other fighter we left in the hangar and get out."
Lokir shook his head. "I like the idea, but the bridge is going to be a hive of hostiles. We'd be toasted before we got within ten feet of the activation."
"I didn't think you were one for caution, since you seemed almost happy about our little adventures here," Asakira replied, incredulous.
"I'm one for not dying," Lokir told her.
"That narrows it down some," she said sarcastically.
"Yes, well... we should get back to business." The glare that accompanied the statement was sudden and icy. Asakira knew better than to press him now, though. She was sure she'd see who he was in time.
Putting he chin on her hooves, Asakira put her mind to the task. "Hmm," she droned, "we could detonate the reactor directly. It won't put out a warning out, though, so anyone on the ship will be pretty much fucked--aside from us."
"We don't know if anyone is even alive aside from us," Lokir dismissed the thought, waving his hoof.
"All the more reason to consider this closely," Asakira argued.
Lokir exhaled, sighing. "Yeah, I guess we should. Still, we're kind of assuming we're gonna make it out alive. I mean, the whole reason we're doing this is to deal a blow to these cyborg guys, right? Not save ourselves or anyone else on the ship. True, we're going to try , but in all honesty our odds are pretty slim."
Asakira nodded. "Okay, maybe you're right. Our lives are basically forfeit here. We can't afford to do anything but stop these assholes from getting what they're after."
Lokir lowered his gaze and took a moment to respond. "Yeah. Survival is secondary..." he sighed. "Do we even know what it is these 'assholes' are going for? It's kind of preposterous, really. Some cyborgs-alien things basically saunter on to one of the biggest ships in the ESF and snag it without a single hitch? Please. There's something deeper here, something we're missing. They don't play by our rules. They don't think by our rules. They don't seem to be after money, or salvage, or anything we would consider important. So what is it?"
"Does it matter, Lokir? You said it yourself, we have a chance to take them down, even if we have to go with them. Whoever, whatever these creatures are, the reactor is our best hope of ending them here. We can stop this. We can stop them ," she insisted.
Lokir huffed a breath. "Maybe they aren't alone. What if there's more where they came from? If we blow this ship before we find out, we might be condemning more than ourselves. After all, you said it yourself, right?"
Asakira laughed at that. "Looks like we switched sides on that decision, huh?"
"Yeah," Lokir said, grinning.
"Heh. The world is like that sometimes, I guess. You know, Lokir... I like you. Try not to get yourself killed, okay?" Asakira smiled brightly at him, but he simply nodded in reply.
The Marine waited a moment, shrugged, and added, "Okay. I guess I'll give it a shot."
*****************
The controls of the fighter thrummed under Open Sky's hooves. Bright blue displays flicked on as the machine warmed up. She scrolled through diagnostic readings and adjusted the settings to her liking, then pulled the helmet off of its resting place above her chair and dropped it over her head.
"You all ready in back?" she asked her gunner, a white-and-black pegasus named Free Wings.
He nodded behind the thick visor of his helmet and said, "You should ask the assholes I'm about to send to hell!"
"You might just get a chance to do it yourself when you meet them there," she huffed at him.
"Aw, that's not nice..."
Open Sky ignored him and opened her communications with the flight controller. "Wings of Harmony , this is Echo-2. We are prepped and ready to fly."
"Roger, Echo-2. Standby for release signal," the ship's controller replied a moment later.
"Standing by."
The pilot reviewed the past few hours in her head.
***************
A few hours earlier...
The air was tense and stale as Open Sky strutted towards the hangar. A klaxon wailed from somewhere, signaling a call to battle stations aboard the Wings of Harmony. The hour was here--the flotilla of frigates and corvettes had assembled, save Sunstrider, which had slipped out of the system to send a warning to the nearest ESF base. The plan to take back the Morning Star was settled; five wings of fighters launched from the larger ships would escort three shuttles of Marines each, who would board and take back the supercruiser.
There originally hadn't been a ship for Open Sky to pilot. However, some newbie had come down with a stomach virus, and the commanders needed someone to fill his place.
She just happened to be in the right place at the right time.
Her thoughts refocused on the task at hoof. The steel-plate bulkheads were unforgivingly monotonous, but they were marked with letter and number combinations to mark the way. A posted placard on the right side of the corridor read HANGAR A . That was where she was needed.
Open Sky stepped into the bay, a rather cramped space compared to the Morning Star, but it certainly served. Three slim, long fighters were docked there, resting above the ground in magnetic locks that sat over the launching catapult.
A bored-looking white-on-black pegasus stood on his back hooves, leaning against one craft. Open Sky trotted over.
"You Free Wings?" she asked.
"Might be. What's it to you?"
"Don't be coy," Open Sky's look shot daggers at him.
He made a face, shrugged, and said, "Yeah, I'm Free Wings. I'm guessing you're Lieutenant Open Sky, my new pilot?"
"Who else would I be, smart-ass? And watch your tone, Ensign. " Normally she wouldn't be so harsh to someone new, but he seemed mouthy enough to make it worthwhile.
Free Wings snapped open his wings and made a quick flying jump over the fighter. Probably to avoid dealing with her.
Asshole.
***************
Now, the Lieutenant found herself rolling her neck in the pilot's seat while waiting for the command to depart. The other craft were likely just not ready yet.
Suddenly, another message came through the comms. "Echo Wing, prepare for departure on my go. Launch in 5..."
Open Sky primed the engines.
"4..."
Weapon systems were ready.
"3..."
Fuel levels full.
"2..."
Throttle opening.
"1..."
Launch.
Open Sky's head flew back into the seat as the fighter jumped out of the hangar, racing alongside nine others that made up Echo Wing. Equus reflected sunlight dimly through the polarized glass of the cockpit off to her right, and it slowly filled her view while she fell into orbit. The other fighters and their slightly more sluggish shuttle brethren closed the gap with the planet. An extreme amount of pressure threatened to make her black out while they shot around the planet, performing a slingshot.
The force was relieved when they made their pass, flying out at monstrous speeds towards the Morning Star . A glance at the radar showed the flotilla crawling its way forward as well, the heavier vessels moving a good amount slower.
As the black supercruiser came into view, tiny pinpricks of light came out to meet the head-on charge. They soon revealed themselves as they got closer within visual range -- they were thin, scythe-like assault vehicles. There was a long line of them, spread out into a near-flat cloud that aimed to consume the pony spacecraft.
"Free Wings, ready weapons."
"You got it!"
Red targeting markers found the closest four ships. The two groups closed for several seconds, racing forward to meet their enemies. Open Sky's hooves danced along the holographic control interface, priming missiles, marking the flyers of the enemy vehicles, and generally doing everything they should.
"10 seconds to intercept," a voice came over the communications relay. "Echo Wing, fire when ready."
Further they came together, until both parties were nearly on top of each other.
"Fire!" she yelled to Free Wings, who responded by doing just that. Four streaks of light blew past the cockpit, pushing ahead of the fighter. Dozens more followed from Open Sky's fellows. Almost immediately, they exploded in brilliant flashes of fire.
When it cleared, nothing remained.
"We got 'em!" Free Wings called out, exhilarated at his apparent success.
Open Sky was more suspicious. "If we got them, there'd be debris..."
There wasn't anything where the missiles had exploded--just space and the stars beyond that. They continued toward the cruiser, undeterred from their goal. However, Open Sky had a sudden urge to look up...
"Oh shit! They're right on top of us!"
She threw the fighter into a clockwise roll while rotating to starboard. Somehow, the cyborg flyers had avoided their initial assault. Open Sky yanked the physical control yoke back, turning to face the enemy.
Nothing came to greet her.
Breathing heavily, Free Wings asked, "What in the fuck was that?"
Eyes scanning both space and displays, Open Sky replied calmly, "Not sure. I don't think we're done yet, though. They must be... jumping. A short distance in-system jump like that is still only hypothetical back in Federation labs." Sure enough, though, faint warp signatures were fading on her display, right where the attackers had been. She activated her headset. "Is everyone okay?" Hopefully the attack hadn't done too much damage.
A coughing voice came back. "This is Echo Three. We've been hit, our engines are down. We have port thrusters, but that's it."
"This is Echo Five. We're here too," another pilot said.
"Echo Lead, are you there? Echo Lead?" Open Sky asked. No reply returned. "Shit." She asked for the Marines. Of the three shuttles with Echo Wing, only one answered her call. Sighing, she opened a channel. "This is Echo Two. We are assuming command of Echo Wing. Get to the Morning Star as fast as possible. Don't bother shooting, they're jumping out of the way of our missiles."
"Jumping? Echo Two, that's not possible. Not in-system," Echo Five said.
"The jump signatures are there. It happened. However, we don't have a whole lot of time. Just keep moving, people, and we can do this," Open Sky returned sternly. She moved the fighter to the front of what remained of Echo Wing. "Echo Three, can you keep moving?"
"Uh, not really sure over here. I'll try, but don't wait for us."
Open Sky bit her lip. "We'll be back. Stay safe, Echo Three."
"Acknowledged."
Gunning the throttle, the Lieutenant turned her eyes to the supercruiser coasting through space. It looked like a big, ragged chunk of black driftwood. It was huge--the biggest ship she'd ever served on, in truth. With only a few Marines, how could they possibly take it back from the things that grabbed it out from under them?
The answer came to her as the lower port hangar came into view.
They would succeed because they had to.
