The Manehattan’s emergency lights bloomed blood red and trailed across the corridor. Pipes and valves ran on the walls till they met the end of the gassy void. Steam bled from pipes and hidden crevices surrounding him while his headlight failed to pierce the smog. Sorin’s life preservation suit hugged his bruise tightly as the rest of his fears did. His helmet felt compressed against the smog, the mechanics and inner working of his suit rummaged and corrected itself with difficulty. Cylinder shaped veins infested his suit and pumped congested sludge of energy, fed by the pack fitted uncomfortably on his back. With another hoof forward, he created the same monotonous clank, over, and over, and over, with his breath baring gradually over his respirator. Bulky for his ordinary appearance, too many screws and knobs at the joints, and the choking hold the brace made was unbearable. He jumped at the site of blue warnings casted over his visor, relaying a familiar voice, “Pods have successfully landed, waiting on volunteers, be safe--.” he smiled and sighed in relief then switched his communications off.
The haze the communicator created was relieved, easing his ears, but now the eerie aura of the crowded corridor overwhelmed his senses with false shifts of metal and noise. The hollows of space creaked and rattled the ship with rotten intent for its demise. The ship was doing something to him, he felt it teasing him -- triggering pipes or valves to release its lethal contents when he came near. As if it were laughing at him each time he fell or flinched from fright. Something else was there, too, laughing alongside of the ship. A voice, with an unholy pitch, followed closely with a wheeze. Was he going mad? A few hours in a desolate ship could not have done this! The voice was there --somewhere-- he could hear it scrape the metal with its elongated throat and chapped lips. It did scare him, the voice; the only thing was the fact of the ship being empty. Nothing was left, it was all recently abandoned to the emptiness of space. He was going mad, of course. Or was he? Nothing could have survived the breach, every living thing needs oxygen. Right?
The Manehattan was a mysterious ship, even before the accident. Rumors would always spiral among the janitorial meetings he attended (which were mandatory with his position of work), but he never considered them to be true. They were too, demented, straight out of a horror movie. Stories of aliens with two mouths and numbering spikes for teeth, ripping and goring themselves out of ponies cutie marks. He founded it comical at first, silly science fiction found melded into reality, it was too fake. But alone in the dark... it was something different. Sounds became deep and violent; creatures from fantasy of the mind, became real, while shadows mimic them and harassed his vision, and the smog only added to the stress. It all began to daunt at him. He swallowed the saliva caught between his throat, then closed his eyes, then marched forward with his guard raised high.
Once more, a wail rippled the thick sheets of steel protecting Sorin’ from the dangers of space. Another blast let out, causing him to curse in annoyance. His first thought was The SS Pegasi. And it was. What else could it been? Windows were locked by steel sheets and the holes, made by shrapnel, were too puny to see through, but he could still imagine every magnificent detail. A massive ship with two cooperative engines propelling it through space with gradient beams of lights leaving from its core; elongated wings on each side, gently stroking the abyss of space, guiding the beast to wherever it pleases; finally, its numbering protective glass panels teeming and glowing with life, rich with growth and littered with clouds in a massive range locked in the ship. Prosperity amongst its populace was something of a fairytale, with each Pegasite fulfilling their role for the greater good. Though for his own life, it was something of anomaly compared to the general population: low wage, small living space, poor social continuity, and all the things he aspired to do, finally limited to volunteer work, dangerous volunteer work. Did not matter to him, the adrenalin was satisfying, but the fear could always be excluded.
Rainbow Dash stood motionless at the sight of The Manehattan spiral in space. A gash planted itself firmly on the haul, sparking rays of red and blue every minute, from what she counted. Freeloading debri bunched together and formed clouds of dust and steel. Stars glistened like water and populated the darkness. Her light engineering suit warmed her coat as the star near by would. Rainbow Dash centered her thoughts and then nodded in regret.
“Idiot.” she said aloud as others crowd around to watch the spectacle.
The news anchor chimed in before the masses were swept in marvel of the display, “An explosion erupted earlier today on the starboard side of The Manehattan. The Manehattan’s crew have survived and will be expecting to arrive at Shuttle Bay 4-D. The cause of the explosion is unknown, but experienced technicians have been sent to handle the situation and retrieve any information of the explosion. From what we’ve been told, there seems to be no signs of sabatash.”
“Idiots.” she spate silently. “Idiots!” she yelled clearly over the audience. Her nostrils flared like that of a bull. “‘No signs of sabatash’ my flank!”
The pain was back, right on the flank, the piercing sensation. Liquid pumped freely into the syringe and injected itself in the same damn place. Her breath felt taken and smashed; while her muscles tender and raw. She bit angrily on her tongue till the taste of iron made her acquaintance. It quickly past. Her heart eased and pumped steadily. Her anger relieved, and only the sound of chattering ponies engulfed her hearing.
“Seven charges remaining,” her suit said. “Rainbow Dash --serial number: 2253. Engineering ID: 335 Dash. -- please report to the nearest government client for your yearly refilling. Failing to comply will earn you two marks on your social standardizati-- ”
"Stupid suit." She said before leaning on wall with her eyes half open.
