• Published 19th Sep 2012
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Homeworld: Equestria - hiigaran



Finding himself in an uncharted system, the Captain of a military vessel ends up on a strange planet

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16: The End Time

“Engaging cloak field,” Corona reported. “Hyperspace exit in three … two … one … I—whoah!”

“HARD TO STARBOARD!” Captain Soban boomed.

“I got this!” Shining Armour’s horn glowed, with barely enough time to protect against a fast-approaching asteroid almost as large as a destroyer.

The fleet’s crew breathed a sigh of relief, as the asteroid that had threatened Harmony deflected and shattered. Smaller fragments bounced off the hulls of every other ship in the fleet, creating clinks and clangs that echoed throughout their interiors. Out of immediate danger, they took in their surroundings, barely illuminated by a nearby star. Colossal rocks surrounded the fleet, almost completely blocking out the twinkling backdrop of stars. Some drifted along lazily, while a few others zoomed by at frightening speeds.

“Impressive, Shining. I don’t recall you possessing the ability to block something that large before,” Soban watched a distant asteroid shoot across and collide with another. “Now then. I doubt I need confirmation we’ve arrived in the right area. Welcome to the Diamond Shoals.”

“Uhh, Captain?” Corona raised her hoof hesitantly. “Given the collision hazard we are in, maybe we should—”

“Way ahead of you. Fleet, close in and maintain a tight formation,” Soban radioed in. “Corona, report.”

“Immediate area clear of anything potentially hostile. Got another problem, though,” Corona frowned. “Sensors are barely penetrating these asteroids. Long-range is out.”

“Damn. Alright, disengage cloak and hold position. Maybe our core mares see something.”

“It’s not so much we see something, but rather … feel something,” Rarity began. “There appears to be some form of interference blocking our higher senses, but something is pulling at us. Our cores and this ship, I mean.”

“Can you locate anything, regardless?” the Captain stared up at the loudspeaker from which Rarity’s voice originated.

“Perhaps,” Rarity mused, pausing to further analyse the situation. “Our vision doesn’t appear to have the same limitations as the sensors, but that doesn’t say much. We can only see a tad further. Whatever this interference is, it’s like a fog to us. You understand what I mean, yes?”

“I think I do. I guess we should set course towards … whatever it is you feel is pulling on us.”

“With your permission, I would rather take direct control of Harmony. The direction we are being pulled in is tightly packed with asteroids. After that close call with the minefield, I believe navigating through this place will require a great deal of finesse, and an abundance of patience.”

“Very well, ma’am, but keep both Midnight and I updated on everything.”


“… That’s the crew roster done for this fortnight. Won’t have to worry about that for a while,” Zenith sighed, stretching her legs as much as possible, without causing undue pain.

“Why in the hay would you be rostering crew?” Firelance spoke through a mouthful of bean salad. “Shouldn’t that be the job of somepony higher up?”

“Are you going to question everything that I do?”

“Maybe.”

“Humph,” Zenith’s nostrils flared in mild annoyance. “And no, you’re thinking of the list of crew stationed aboard all ships in our fleet at given times. This roster is for crew already aboard. Many of the crew are assigned secondary jobs, since there’s no point having crew working exclusively in cleaning, food prep, and other such menial tasks.”

“Whew! Glad my station doesn’t allow for one of those ‘secondary jobs’.”

“Mmm, yes,” Zenith said in an almost dreary tone. “Sometimes I wish I could just post you to toilet cleaning duties.”

“Aww, why?”

“So I have somewhere to send you when you get on my nerves,” she bopped him on his forehead. “Now let me finish my work.”

“Arrgh, you’re gonna be at it all day!” the pegasus frowned at the modest pile of papers stacked neatly on the table beside Zenith. “What could you possibly have to do that must be done in your condition?”

“That’s precisely why I’m doing all this work. If I just lie here and do nothing, I’m going to lose my mind from the boredom.”

“Ahem …”

“Yes, yes. Suffice it to say, I may need some time to get used to more frequent exposures to you, first—”

“That can be interpreted in many ways,” Firelance wiggled his eyebrows.

“—since I have yet to determine the long-term mental ramifications that may or may not be caused by your proximity,” Zenith ignored the pegasus’ remark.

“And what do you plan to do in the meantime?”

“My work,” Zenith lifted several papers from the top of the pile. “Believe it or not, some of it is actually quite fascinating. Exciting, even.”

Firelance gave Zenith a sidelong glance. “Paperwork? Exciting? Pfft, come on! The Element of Honesty could come up with a more believable lie!”

“Ah heard that!” the unmistakable accent of a certain pony scolded overhead.

“You think so?” Zenith grinned, turning to rummage through her papers once more. “One moment. Need to find … no, that’s not—ah! Feast your eyes on this!”

Firelance shuffled closer to Zenith, who placed a small, black binder between them. Quickly flipping through the pages, the document outlined extensive, albeit highly incomplete technical specifications for an Equestrian project so massive, the pegasus began to salivate profusely at the contents.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“That is a mothership, yes.”

Were it not for the bed he was leaning back against, Firelance’s wings would have shot out in a flash.

“Bit of an odd design for a mothership, isn’t it?” Firelance finally commented, after rolling his tongue back into his mouth.

“How so?”

“Well, look at Harmony’s design. Look at a carrier. Hay, look at the old Pride of Hiigara. All long and flat-like. This design is completely different. I’m guessing that central teardrop structure is the main cabin, and the two slightly smaller ones to the left and right are the main engines—”

“They’re also large plasma bomb launchers. That’s why the engines look so big. They’ve got enough power to move the ship along, even without the additional two outboard engines, the ventral auxiliary engine, or the central inline engine, but the difference is that due to their higher output, they’re designed with a powerful plasma venting system. A frigate could dodge them at long range, but cruisers won’t be getting anywhere close to this ship.”

“Neat! So those outboard engines over there”—Firelance pointed to thinner, more cylindrical engines at the vessel’s extremities—“they have plasma launchers, too? What’s with that needle on their front ends?”

“Ion cannons. Corona used data gathered from the Kadesh battle to recreate the lance-ship’s ion cannon. Still hasn’t fully passed testing, though. Not for a lack of power available, mind you. The cooling systems keep burning out when fired.”

“Alright, any other weapons?”

Zenith flipped a few pages forward to another blueprint that outlined surface features of the hull. “For short-range point-defence, the surface is covered in pulsar turrets, which can extend and retract. Princess Luna insisted on a minimum of fifty, and wanted the research division to see how many more hard-points could be incorporated into the structure.”

Firelance’s eyes settled upon a mysterious device built into the upper edge of a crested section above the main structure. “What about that thing over there?”

“That’s a mystery to me. Something called a Corona Device, named after Corona no doubt. Her team has been working on a defensive mechanism, purely Equestrian in design. I tried asking her about it, but she insists on keeping it a surprise, saying it would make for an astonishing light show. She did say something about its difficulty in radiation shielding, due to the six cores being housed in the same location, but I didn’t think to ask what she meant.”

“I’d love to see a demonstration of it when it’s ready, that’s for sure.”

Zenith rolled her eyes. “You know you have an unhealthy obsession with weapons, right? No interest in the hangar housing eighty squadrons of strike-craft. Haven’t even batted an eyelid at the fact that larger ships are constructed externally with drones and tethered with unicorn teams. And certainly no comments on the incorporation of various types of crystals in the armour and structure of the ship.”

“Eh? Doesn’t crystal break easily?”

“Some types do, some types don’t. The first type to be used is called the … well, you’d know it as the blue crystal, so I’ll leave it at that. Its atomic structure is so well-structured, so perfect, even the phased disassembler arrays used in construction cannot replicate it.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that per unit of anything, this crystal is tougher than any armour used by the Hiigarans. At least, that I know of. You remember the movers? Even their armour doesn’t come close to this.”

“Whoah. I guess that explains Sombra’s obsession with crystals. So what’s the catch?”

“Well, there is one problematic issue. The Crystal Empire doesn’t have anywhere near enough of the crystal, and growing them takes time, so it needs to be used in combination with another material. That’s one of the things we will need to figure out, but since it isn’t my area of expertise, I can’t really say much here.”

“You mentioned two types of crystals. What’s the other?”

“Oh that’s just a transparent one to be used as the primary material in windows. I don’t recall how strong it is, but it’s not as strong as the blue one. It has a higher resistance to heat, though. The bridge could withstand multiple direct hits from ion cannons with this. Of course, due to vulnerabilities, a command centre at the heart of the ship would be the primary location for combat operations.”

“Alright, you’ve convinced me. Paperwork can be fun sometimes. That has to be a massive job, though. How much will this cost? How long will it take to build? Hay, what’s it going to be used—”

“Slow down there.” Zenith interjected. “I don’t have the answers to all of that. I’m just filing in my share, then passing this off to then next pony responsible. But yes, it will be a massive job. Construction material will be coming in from all over Equestria. Cloudesdale, Manehattan, the Crystal Empire of course. Even the griffons will be pitching in. Though I’ve heard rumours that we might be opening up our Navy to other nations in the near future. Wonder if they’d be contributing, too.”

“Excuse me Mister Firelance,” Fluttershy’s voice came through hesitantly. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but they need you back at your station.”

“What’s going on?” the pegasus looked up at the source of the voice.

“We’re not sure. Rarity has been navigating us through this asteroid field for a while now, following whatever is pulling at us. The more we follow, the stronger the pull gets. The others wanted you back on weapons.”

Firelance looked towards Zenith, who gave him a nudge. “Go. I’ll be fine. I don’t need a foalsitter. Besides, I could do with a little peace and quiet.”


“Alright, I’m ready to go!” Firelance yelled in the bridge’s direction from the primary weapons room nearby. “What do you need from me?”

“We have a station comms link for a reason, ‘Lance,” Soban chided. “Anyway, our interceptor squads are currently scouting around nearby, but this interference is limiting their comms range. I need you to work with them, should anything hostile appear.”

“Sure thing, Mel.”

“We’re coming around the next asteroid now,” Rarity informed the bridge. “This one will be a tight fit, so I have instructed our fleet to follow behind in single file.”

Shining Armour frowned. “Dead end?”

“There is an opening near that small pattern of craters. It looks like a crevice, but it’s actually a tunnel that will take us straight through the asteroid and out the other end,” Rarity manipulated the viewscreen to highlight the relevant location. “I should warn you, it’s going to get dark in a moment, so you’ll just have to trust me with instrument navigation.”

“This opening doesn’t look like a natural formation,” Soban examined the electronic reconstruction of the tunnel’s smooth, ovular shape. “Could it be some sort of passageway? No, that’s unlikely. Thousands of years of drifting through space would make such a creation pointless. Doesn’t look like an excavation, either. My only other guess would be … Weapons fire?”

“What weapon could possibly bore a hole large enough for us to fit through?” Shining Armour stared at the tunnel’s walls on the viewscreen, passing by at a slower and slower rate. “Wait, why are we stopping?”

“Interference is atrocious, but there appears to be a keeper nearby,” Rarity stated.

The Captain tensed up. “What? Where? Go to full combat alert! Call back the interceptors! Has it seen us?”

“No, it hasn’t. In fact, it’s lying dormant a few hundred metres from the tunnel exit,” Rarity reassured the bridge crew. “Just to be on the safe side, do I have your permission to engage the cloak generator?”

“Yes, of course.”

“We’re going to have to move out of the asteroid to cloak the rest of our fleet,” Rarity informed the Captain. “That means getting a little closer to the keeper.”

“Do it.”

The rest of the fleet followed behind Harmony, its engines glowing like a beacon in the night. After a short moment, the tunnel grew brighter, until they had exited the asteroid tunnel and resumed their tight spherical formation around Harmony.

“Fleet is cloaked, but … that—” Rarity became speechless.

Shining Armour stared wide-eyed. “Holy sh—”

“Indeed,” Corona shared the same sentiments.

Harmony and its fleet came to a halt, as the crew gawked at what lay ahead of them in what appeared to be a spherical clearing of at least a few hundred kilometres in radius, completely encapsulated by asteroids. Within the empty void, a fog of inactive vessels floated around aimlessly. Thousands of keepers, all asleep, surrounding an ancient behemoth at the very centre.

“Khorsabad,” the Captain whispered. “Corona, send a message to Nabaal and let him know we’ve arrived. Get him here as soon as possible, and make sure you warn him of the keepers.”

Corona nodded. “Will do.”

“We made it, then,” Shining Armour declared.

The Captain shook his head. “Not exactly. Between it and us lie countless keepers.”

“They appear to be inactive,” Shining observed, shrugging.

“Yes. ‘Appear’,” Soban remained sceptical. “Let’s send out a probe and see what happens …”


“Still showing no power fluctuations, movement, or … anything, really,” Corona reported. “These keepers look completely shut off. I’m sure at least one of them would have noticed a probe shooting past them by now.”

“I sure hope you’re right,” Soban sighed. “Prepare the fleet for a short-jump.”

In a split second, the fleet entered hyperspace, emerging much closer to their target, though still at a significant distance from it. Hidden from view, the cloaked fleet advanced, metre by cautious metre, as the crew gritted their teeth each time they slipped past a keeper. Minutes stretched on for what felt like hours, and the crew remained dead silent, as if afraid the keepers might hear them.

As the fleet edged closer to the ancient fortress, its finer details became more defined. Though the superstructure took on a simplistic shape, the intricacies along its surface, plus the large protrusions, weapons, and a multitude of battle scars became much clearer.

“Rarity, are we able to obtain further details on the fortress?”

“Only a basic analysis, Captain,” she replied, deep in thought. “The interference here is by far the worst. I think by now, it is all but confirmed this is the source of the interference. In any case, there appear to be two major parts to Khorsabad. The first consists of a hyperboloid hull, which serves as a base for the eight evenly spaced … objects sticking out at one end. Some sort of pylons, perhaps? Long, thin structures, parallel to the hull. Khorsabad’s total length would be about … twenty-eight kilometres and four hundred metres.”

“Looks like a … giant minigun,” Soban commented.

“I can tell you now that this is no gun, though it certainly did have some powerful defences. With the exception of one of the more damaged pylons, each has its own massive cannon. It should be large enough for you to see, without zooming in. Right there, sitting on the extremities.”

The Captain squinted. “Those are siege cannons! And that missing one? Could that be—”

“Highly probable, given the likely paths that cannon would have drifted. In all likelihood, the missing siege cannon is the very same that found its way to the Somtaaw mining vessel Kuun-Lan. Irrelevant history lesson aside, I’m noticing some sort of residual power that is inconsistent with any kind of device in our data banks. We’d need to get closer to confirm anything, but I believe those extensions are part of the trans-galactic gate.”

“Speaking of the gate, we’re going to have to figure out a way to disable or destroy it. No gate, no Progenitor invasion. Before anything, though, can you locate the sixth core?”

“There appear to be power modules attached to the thinnest point on the hyperboloid section. Among them is the final core. I recommend we get close enough to keep our resource collector cloaked during the entire retrieval process.”

“Agreed. Get the collector ready in the meantime.”


“Green light confirmed, Harmony,” the collector’s pilot responded. “Laying in approach vectors. ETA to the core is twenty seconds.”

“Once you have the core, bring it to the aft section of Harmony and drop it in the empty core bay,” Soban ordered.

“Uhh, which one is the empty one? They all look the same from out here.”

“We will open the external hatch on the right one, once you are in range.”

“Gotcha. Now then, looks like the core is intact. One moment. Need to find a suitable point to latch on to. This might be a little tricky. Looks like it’s still attached to something on the fortress hull. I think I can just yank it away, right?”

“Go ahead. These cores have no external components.”

“Alright, reversing at full burn in three … two … one … Aaaaaand—whoah, that got it! Core number six is ours! Stand by receiving crews.”

“Captain?” Rarity’s voice carried a hint of concern. “I’m not entirely sure if this is a coincidence, or if it had something to do with removing the core, but I’m picking up some energy spikes in the fortress.”

“Can you be a little more specific?”

“You remember the residual energy I noticed earlier? That same energy appears to be building up along one of the fortress’s pylons. Just one so far, but I don’t know if— … Okay, we might have a situation developing here. The gate is moving.”

“That can’t be good. How much time do we have?”

“I—I don’t know.”

Soban hammered his armrest. “Dammit!. Has the sixth core arrived, yet? Where’s Twilight?”

“Both the core and Twilight are here,” one of the engineering crew responded on comms. “We’re making the final adjustments to secure and connect the core, and then Twilight will attempt integration.”

“Make it quick.”

“Sir, I hate to rush you and all, but …” Corona hesitated. “What’s the plan?”

Soban began frantically pacing around the bridge. “I don’t know yet.”

“Another pylon is beginning to build up energy,” Rarity continued reporting. “I’m assuming all eight need to power up, before the gate opens. Based on what I have seen so far, I estimate no more than four minutes, before they are powered up.”

Corona stared expectantly at the Captain, as he came to a halt. “Sir? What do you want us to do?”

Soban looked towards the viewscreen, taking in the view. After a while, he replied, “Nothing.”

“Nothing? But—”

“What do you suggest we do?” Soban snapped. “We have no idea what to expect, and our best option at the moment is to remain cloaked. I’m not entirely convinced the keepers here are truly offline, and if we try bombarding the fortress, we might just wake them. And something tells me if an armada of keepers couldn’t destroy this fortress, then our fleet won’t, either.”

“What about the power modules?” Shining suggested. “Those don’t appear to be heavily armoured. Can’t we just hit those?”

Corona shook her head. “The gate is being powered externally. Likely from wherever the other gate is.”

“Third pylon is charging up,” Rarity reported.

“So we just sit here, and do—”

“Nothing,” Soban finished Corona’s sentence. “The best I can think of at this stage is to let them come through the gate, and get distracted with the keepers. If they survive, we ambush them in their hopefully weakened state. The Elements of Harmony had better be the super-weapon we need.”

“I don’t like this,” Shining Armour grumbled. “One bit. Too many unknowns.”

“Fourth pylon charging up.”

“Hello? Hello, can you hear me?” A new voice entered the bridge.

“… Twilight?” Shining Armour looked around, trying to find the familiar voice.

“Oh, hi brother! I’ve successfully integrated. I cannot even begin to describe how amazing th—”

“Later, Twilight,” the Captain interrupted. “Do you know how to use the Elements? What does it do, and how does it do it?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m still trying to adjust to all the information I’m receiving. I’m guessing my friends and I will just do what we have done in the past.”

“Fifth is charging,” Rarity continued.

“All fleet assets to full combat alert,” Soban ordered. “Scramble all strike-craft and position them in a tight formation around Harmony.”

Corona raised an eyebrow. “I thought we were doing nothing.”

“For the time being. I’ll have to re-evaluate the situation soon.”

“Sixth is charging.”

“Let’s get a little closer to the gate side. I want the Elements tested on the first ship that comes through. Speaking of which … Twilight? Any updates?”

“I don’t know. We’re as ready as we’re going to get. This is just going to be one of those ‘wait and see’ moments, I’m afraid. We’ll be ready to, uhh, fire the Elements when need be, though.”

“Seventh is charging.”

“Here we go. Sound off, fleet!” Soban practically yelled into the comms.

“Destroyer Phoenix, ready.”

“Destroyer Ursa Major, ready.”

“Destroyer Timberwolf, ready.”

“Interceptor squads Lightning one through five, ready.”

“Bomber squads Thunder one though three, ready.”

“Gunship squads Typhoon one though six, ready.”

“Pulsar gunship squads Whirlwind one through five, ready.”

“Eighth charging!”

“Fleet is ready.”

“I’m detecting gate activity!” Corona shouted.

“Destroyers, assume broadside,” the Captain continued issuing orders. “All ships, hold fire.”

In a momentary flash of brilliant gold, the gate surrounded by the pylons erupted with light in a dazzling display, not unlike that of an engine afterburner. Shortly after, multiple tiny, spherical objects shot out in random directions and whizzed around the keepers like a bothersome swarm of flies.

The zipping and buzzing had been more than enough to get the attention of the keepers, and in the blink of an eye, the keepers woke to greet the little shiny spheres with the unrestrained force of their ion-cannons, a laser show of accelerated particles and minuscule explosions.

As quickly as it had all begun, everything settled into silence. The keepers returned to their dormant states, mere moments after the gate of Khorsabad had darkened.

Corona blinked. “What just happened?”

“Those little vessels were nothing more than probes,” Twilight took over reporting. “I detected unencrypted data transmissions from them. After a quick translation, the data was returned through the gate, with identifiers for multiple major vessels. Wow, I learned all that in a matter of minutes? What an opportunity to—oh, sorry. Umm, assuming I understand this transmission correctly, twenty-two command ships have received this transmission.”

“Twenty-two command ships?” Corona squeaked. “How many ships altoge—”

“You said the probes transmitted something back,” Soban cut in. “Does that mean the gate allows passage both ways?”

“It would appear that way, yes,” Twilight concluded. “Why, what are you thinking, Mel?”

“The Progenitors don’t know we are here, do they? I’m thinking I can take the fight to them.”

“Exactly how do we do that?”

“There is no ‘we’ in this one. I need you guys to stay here, in case I fail.”

“What do you mean? Mel? Mel?”

“Destroyer Phoenix, return to Harmony’s construction bay for immediate disembarkation,” Soban terminated communications without waiting for a reply. “Corona, get Midnight up on the bridge. You’re in command until he arrives,” he called back, just as he left the bridge.

As the Captain walked through the weapons room, he caught the attention of Firelance, who scampered off after him. “Oi! Where are you going?”

“’Lance, return to your station.”

“My station be damned! You’re thinking of doing something stupid, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps. I’m going to bait the keepers by piloting a destroyer through the gate.”

“You WHAT? Do you have any idea how—” Firelance paused, processing Soban’s plan. “That might actually work. Surprise those guys and soften them up for us on this side. Maybe buy some more time for the Hiigarans to arrive, too. Alright, then I’m coming with you.”

“No you’re not. I’m not letting—”

“I don’t wanna hear it. How are you going to control an entire destroyer by yourself?”

“With difficulty, but I won’t have to do it for long.”

“And how are you going to defend yourself?” Firelance hovered in front of Soban, blocking his path. “Or what if you need to get the keepers’ attention with something a little more than your visibility? As far as I can tell, you don’t have enough hands to do everything at the same time.”

Soban hesitated. “Are you absolutely certain you know what you’re getting yourself in to?”

Firelance nodded. “Damn right. Now are we gonna get going, or what?”

“Very well. We should be out of here in a few minutes, after Phoenix docks and unloads.”

“Oh, in that case, I just have to take care of one thing first. I’ll meet you in construction!”


“Phoenix, you’re clear of the construction bay,” Spanner announced. “Sure hope you know what you’re doing, Captain.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Soban tapped away on the comms console, before heading back onto navigation. “Alright, ‘Lance, as soon as the gate is just a few seconds from opening again, we give the engines all they have, and leave the cloak field.”

“Gotcha. I’ve targeted twenty-six keepers, so if they don’t start chasing us, we can light ‘em all up!”

“If need be, start with one keeper first. We’ve only got whatever torpedoes are loaded, so they need to count.”

“Right, right. No crew to reload them. Sure thing.”

“Captain? Midnight here. The eighth pylon is charging up. The gate’s about to open again.”

“Thanks, Midnight,” Soban jumped between the comms and engineering consoles, and dragged a finger along the touchscreen slider for engine output. “Here we go, setting drives to ahead flank, aaaaand … we’re out of cloaking range.”

“One more thing, Captain. I— … Forgive my pessimism, but in case you don’t make it back,” Midnight paused. “It has been an honour.”

Soban smiled “Likewise. Been an honour for … well, everything.”

“Two kilometres to the gate,” Firelance called out. “No sign of keeper activity. Should I fire one at the nearest?”

“Do it.”

“Target locked and solution acquired. Firing aft torpedo tube one.”

A momentary hiss echoed through the cabin, followed by an eerie silence, as Soban and Firelance watched the small blip representing their torpedo on their sensors managers. The blip continued to edge closer and closer to a red symbol depicting the targeted keeper, until they merged into one, and accompanied a small flash outside, off in the distance.

The effect was almost instantaneous. En masse, lights across the hulls of the keepers lit up, and they faced the origin of the nuisance that had lobbed the puny torpedo at one of their electronic brethren.

Firelance scoured through the sensors. “Yep, looks like we’ve rattled their cage now. I think that’s all of them, too.”

“Captain, the gate is opening,” Midnight reported. “Good luck.”

“You heard him, ‘Lance,” Soban made the final adjustments to line the destroyer up with the gate. “No backing out now.”

“With you all the way. Not gonna—oh crap, we got drones coming our way.”

“Distance?”

“Nearest group will be in weapons range in a few seconds. We can make it to the gate before the nearest keeper catches up to us, but not the—whoah!” Firelance lost balance, as orbs of plasma splashed against Phoenix. Clambering back up, he zoomed to the engineering console and fastened his five-point harness. “Engines four and five hit! They’re dead!”

Soban ignored the damage, a determined look upon his face. “Just a little more.”

“Second wave of drones entering weapons range!”

A second, more violent shudder sent loose objects flying across the bridge. The warnings that were practically spewing out from the engineering console had become redundant, with the issues Soban and Firelance noticed immediately.

“Damn! All five engines down,” Soban confirmed his feelings with the readouts. “We’re drifting. How far are from the gate, ‘Lance?”

“Six hundred metres, and closing Four hundred. Two hundred. Here we—what the—that was quick. I— …”

Firelance and Soban tensed up at the clusters of unfamiliar vessels in front of them. Twenty-two giant clouds of frigate-sized ships, each surrounding a much larger central vessel. Arranged in a triangular wall, Soban’s eyes found their way almost immediately to the largest one of all, right in the middle of the formation.

“Sajuuk, I presume?” Soban silently laughed at his cliché response. He wondered how confused the Progenitors must have been, to see a foreign ship suddenly emerge, drifting out of their own gate. “Come on, keepers. Now would be a good time to show up,” he muttered.

“Uhh, I’m not sure I’m reading this right, but I think we are being targeted. Not being fired upon. At least, not yet. We got a single ship approaching us at high speed, though. Another one of them probes.”

The tiny, spherical object came to a halt in front of the disabled destroyer and remained stationary for a short while. In an instant, it accelerated and zipped around the destroyer in seemingly random directions, attempting to analyse the foreign vessel.

The probe’s scans had been for nothing, as a hailstorm of plasma rained down upon it, melting and vaporising the sphere into an unintelligible mass of junk. Moments later, swarms of drones zoomed past the destroyer, ignoring it, and opting to pursue the Progenitor fleet instead.

“Whoah!” Soban and Firelance yelled, watching as keepers emerged behind them in countless droves.

From the bridge, the stranded pair could do nothing but watch as the events of the largest known battle unfolded all around them. The sudden appearance of the Progenitors’ greatest enemy had taken them by surprise, as intended. Those mere seconds had been more than enough time for the drones to unleash a collective volley of plasma upon many of the Progenitor warships, destroying their weapons before they could even get the chance to charge up.

The ensuing chaos from the keepers that followed not too far behind had transformed the entire area into a brilliantly lit stage for the deadliest exchange of pyrotechnics and streaks of metal-melting manifestations of light, and as the minutes went by, the entire area transformed into a sea of shrapnel, debris, and multicoloured clouds and plumes of plasma.


“It’s been almost twenty minutes since the last keeper went through the gate,” Fluttershy observed, within the collective consciousness that linked her mind to the other Elements of Harmony. “What—what if something bad happened?”

“I dun’ wanna think about that jus’ yet, sugarcube. You did see how many of them keepers were over here. Wouldn’t be surprised if we’d be waitin’ a good hour. Far as I’m concerned for now, if nothin’ nasty is comin’ through that gate, we should thank our lucky stars,” Applejack gave the timid pegasus a reassuring hug.

“But what about the Captain? And Firelance? There may be a large fight on the other side of that gate, and they would be stuck right in the middle,” Pinkie stated in a tone of seriousness rarely heard from her. “Did you see what those drones did to them before they went through? We can’t even reach them via comms!”

“And we’re sitting here doing nothing! I hate doing nothing!” Rainbow Dash stomped a hoof on the ethereal floor.

“I agree with Rainbow. We can’t leave our friends behind to be stranded and left to fend for themselves,” Twilight stood beside Rainbow Dash. “We owe it to them.”

“But Twilight—”

“I don’t care if Mel ordered us to do nothing,” Twilight waved a frantic hoof. “We’re going to go through that gate, get him out of there, and see if we can’t use the Elements on these invaders. Rarity, Harmony is still under your control. I require access to the navigation and engineering systems.”

“Twilight, please understand—” Rarity pleaded.

“I wasn’t asking!” Twilight growled. “We are NOT leaving him out there!”

“I—but— …” Rarity stammered, taking a step back. “Very well. I relinquish control to you.”

“Rarity! What in tarnation do you think—”

“What’s going on, Rarity?” The distant voice of Midnight came through from the bridge. “Why are we moving? Where are we heading?”

“I’m terribly sorry. Harmony is under Twilight’s control. She intends to send us through the gate.”

“WHAT? Twilight!” Midnight roared. “Now you listen to me! You may have full access to this vessel, but you do NOT do anything without my permission, do you understand? I am in command, and our standing orders are to stay put. Are you listening to me?”

“You can’t expect me to just watch as my friend goes on what could very well be a one-way trip!” Twilight matched Midnight’s volume.

“Yes I can, damn it! Take a step back and look at the situation! Your judgement is being clouded because he is your friend.”

“Just because he isn’t your—”

“As much as I would have welcomed the opportunity, I chose to distance myself. We’re not here to make friends, and you are making a mistake that could cost you your life, the lives of your friends, everypony aboard this vessel, and the entire galaxy! Is that worth two lives?”

“I’m not answering that!” Twilight’s voice quivered.

“Because a part of you knows I am absolutely correct. Twilight, do you know why I was chosen to be the Captain’s second-in-command? Because one of my most defining qualities is my stark objectivity. I see what many others are blind to, and you are completely oblivious to the consequences of your actions! Where’s the guarantee we can come back? What if the gate closes behind us, or one of those Progenitor ships slip through, right when we enter? For all we know, it could be just one Progenitor that’s needed to wipe the galaxy away.”

Midnight lowered his voice. “Twilight, I don’t like being the bad guy here, but please don’t put me in a position where I have to manually jettison you and your core. Release Harmony from your control.”

“Twilight? Twilight!”

Twilight brought the vessel to a stop with a defeated sigh. “You win.”

“I’m sorry, Twilight. Really, I am. All we can do is wait, and hope the only thing that comes out of the gate is Phoenix.”


“Can you see anything, ‘Lance?” Soban scanned his surroundings with the barely functional sensors.

Firelance searched visually from the windows. “Nothing. There’s so much junk flying around, I can’t tell what’s what. The only thing I can be sure of is that the worst of the battle is over.”

“Yeah. Either it’s over, or there’s just a mopping up.”

“If so, who do you think is doing the mopping up?”

“I don’t know. Both sides seemed evenly matched. The keepers had the numbers, but the Progenitors seemed to pack more firepower. Hey, have you had any luck getting comms back online?”

“Ahh, I tried following the repair manual, but I’m still not getting anything. I’m not sure if it’s my lousy repair work, or something else.”

Soban stared absent-mindedly at a distant cloud of plasma from a Progenitor ship torn clean in half. “I wouldn’t be surprised if this debris is blocking our signals.”

“Well, what now? Will our oxygen run out first, or the rations?”

“Hmm … How sure are you that we are safe?”

“Uhh, kinda sorta? Why?”

“We’ve done our part here. I think it’s time we returned to our galaxy, don’t you? You know how to use a PDA?”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

“Guess it’s time to learn.” Soban made for the bridge exit. Looking back, he saw Firelance still seated. “Well, come on. You should know what a phased disassembler array is by now. It’s the device used in everything, from extracting resources in asteroids, to constructing ships.”

The pegasus trotted alongside Soban. “Oh, PDA! I get it. Yeah, I knew that one.”

“Right, well in case of damage, there are automated systems and small repair drones aboard the larger vessels, such as this destroyer. While they can handle light damage, more severe damage such as, oh I don’t know, getting your engines destroyed, is another matter.”

“Wait, ho—hold on a sec! You’re not suggesting we go outside and fix it ourselves, are you?”

“It’s either that, or we stay stuck out here.”

“Great. Alright, fine, what do I have to do?”

“Here, take a PDA,” Soban handed Firelance a device that consisted of a large back-mounted canister, connected to a hand or hoof-held gun-like apparatus. “They’re pretty simple to use. That switch just above and to the side of the grip selects whether you are shooting out material, or sucking it in. Construction and destruction, if you will. The latter is mainly for clearing away debris, or filling up the tank with resources. Or when you make a mistake.”

“A’ight, and this dial next to it?”

“Simply put, it controls the speed at which material is ejected or broken down. That’s really all you need to know. Don’t worry about that touchscreen there. That changes the type of material for construction. Leave it as it is. Just squeeze the trigger to start it, and whatever you do, don’t touch the matter stream if you wish to keep your limbs intact.”

“This feels awkward to hold.”

“Hey, don’t look at me, those devices were designed for hooves. If anything, it’s going to be awkward for me to use,” Soban picked up another PDA and tested it out with relative ease. “Or maybe not.”

“Good for you, Captain Fingers. Alright, what now?”

“I think there are still some suits around here that fit me. You should suit up as well. Unless of course, you want to do what Pinkie did.”

Firelance’s eye twitched at the memory of pulling Pinkie out from the flak cannon aboard Manaan after leaving the atmosphere for the first time.


Firelance floated along behind Soban, as the pair skimmed the surface of Phoenix’s hull. “Shouldn’t one of us have stayed aboard? You know, in case something comes?”

“If something comes, we’re dead, anyway,” Soban replied nonchalantly.

“Oh, that’s comforting. And what if the airlock closes on us and locks us out?”

“Even if our technology is that unreliable, we can always PDA our way through. Destroy the external door, enter airlock, crudely reconstruct a door or seal behind us, and continue with normal re-compression.”

“That’s a relief, then. Now, uhh, where do we start with this mess? How in the hay are we supposed to repair this damage?”

“Thankfully, we don’t have to do anywhere near that much. What we’re going to do is construct the major framework for the engines, and then we can get the repair drones to finish the rest. Normally, this is a precise art, but the engines can remain quite functional with amateur work, so observe what I do on this part of the engine, then start working on another part. Once we finish here, we move on to the next engine. Oh, and keep away from the repair drones. They will automatically repair each section as we meet the minimum requirements for them.”

“And exactly how long is this going to take?”

“I’m quite rusty with repair work, myself, so my guess would be about two and a half hours.”

Firelance let out a rather feminine squeak.

“And that’s only for two engines. We just need enough to get back to the gate. We’re probably going to have to add a little extra time onto that, since our oxygen supply won’t last long enough to fix everything up in one go.”

Firelance cast a worried look towards the giant gate, still glowing in the distance with its portal back home. “You think the gate will stay open for that long?”

“I don’t want to stick around to find out. The best thing to do now is to focus on getting the engines ready. Now watch closely. Assuming no coolant leaks, this is how we begin reforming the engine base …”


Midnight stood motionless at the centre of the bridge, his gaze unwavering as he waited and hoped for a response. “Destroyer Phoenix, respond,” he repeated every few minutes. Midnight had long since lost count of how many times he sent the same message through the gate, only to receive faint static as a reply.

A weak sigh escaped his lips, as he felt a hoof on his withers. Shining Armour smiled weakly beside him, with a large thermos levitating into view. “Thought you could use a bit of coffee. Goodness knows you’re too stubborn to relieve yourself of extended duty during times like this, so there’s no point arguing with you.”

“Can you blame me?” Midnight graciously downed the potent, bitter fluid in a few large gulps. “Thanks. Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Go right ahead.”

“How long do you think we can wait, before we have to call it quits? At what point would it be acceptable to just …” he trailed off, letting out a frustrated groan.

“To just give up?” Shining Armour offered.

“Yeah,” Midnight said dryly. “I hate that term.”

“I don’t think anypony could answer that. Ideally, I’d say we should wait until the gate closes permanently, but realistically speaking, I don’t think we’d know when, or even if that time will come. And like you said before, we don’t even know if they are alive. The longer the gate stays open, the longer we risk other things coming through.”

Midnight remained silent, opting to massage his temples instead. “I hate being right all the time. Even I don’t like what I say. I have great respect for your sister for what she was about to do, you know, regardless of whether or not it was the right move, or the right thing to do.”

“Midnight, you and I have been in the military long enough to know those aren’t always one and the same. It tears me up inside just as much as I’m sure it does for you, but … I guess that’s life. Anyway, have we made any progress figuring out what to do with the gate?”

“A few of the officers have come up with some ideas, but we’ve shot most of them down, simply because they are impossible tasks to achieve. Ultimately they all end the same way. That is, the permanent closure of the gate. I just hope Phoenix makes it back before we find a plan that’s doable. If we find one that’s doable.”

“Me too, Midnight.”

“Hey, we got activity here!” Corona suddenly spoke up.

“Something at the gate?” Midnight shot back into his seat.

“No, I’m detecting many sensory anomalies,” Corona clarified. “Hiigarans. Decloaking.”

Harmony’s viewscreen panned just in time to display a section of empty space in which an armada of Hiigaran vessels faded into view. Frigates, destroyers, carriers, a line of battlecruisers, and in the middle of them all, Nabaal’s Shipyard. Squadrons upon squadrons of strike-craft poured out of the carriers shortly after, and assumed a defensive formation around the two fleets.

Nabaal’s transmission came through shortly after. “We got your message, Harmony. How can we be of assistance? We were told there was a large fleet of keepers here.”

“This is second-in-command Midnight Oil,” the grey stallion announced. “Captain Soban used himself as bait and led several thousand keepers through the gate to weaken or possibly neutralise the invading force. However, we have been unable to establish communications thus far and are unsure of how to proceed.”

“That sounds like something he’d do. I assume the uncertainty lies in deciding whether to destroy the gate, given your Captain is still on the other side, yes?”

Midnight nodded. “That’s one half of it. The other issue is that we don’t actually know how to disable or destroy it. The gate is not powered from this side, and the armour on the fortress appears to be impenetrable.”

“I’m starting to regret having our old dreadnought dismantled for phased cannon research. Hmm.” Nabaal paused, thoughts rushing through his mind. “Alright, can you transfer all relevant data on the fortress? I need to know what we’re dealing with before we do anything.”


“So … tired …” Firelance dragged himself onto the bridge. “Legs feel like jelly.”

Soban collapsed into his seat. “Come on, the worst is behind us.”

“Better be. I can’t stand to move anymore. Or stand at all.”

“Just need to start the engines up, and hopefully we can get going. Can you monitor the engine instruments while I start each one up?”

“Yeah. Just tell me where the engi—oh, found them. Right, go ahead.”

“Here goes. Engine one startup sequence in three … two … one …”

A faint whine reverberated throughout the cabin and gradually built up in intensity, as the left-most engine activated with its new-found life. While Soban fine-tuned several engine parameters, Firelance monitored the readouts, watching as the dials crept slowly up towards the green ranges.

“Idle coolant temperature at one-seven-three and rising fast,” Firelance called out, watching the relevant indicator peak shortly after. “Coolant pressure is low, but if I recall, that engine had a major coolant leak. Vibration is borderline caution, but still in the green. I think this one’s good to go. Hopefully the coolant system holds out.”

“Excellent. We’ll run it for another ten or twenty seconds, just until the readings stabilise, and then I’ll start the second—Firelance, did you see that?”

The pegasus looked up from his screens. “See what?”

“I … don’t know,” Soban frowned, his eyes shifting around the debris field. “I thought I saw a—a shadow, or something?”

“Keepers?”

“Not sure. Could be. Or something worse. We should leave as soon as we can. Starting the next engine …”

Another whine from the destroyer’s aft faded in, accompanied by an unexpected light rumbling. Worriedly, Firelance darted his eyes between the engine readouts, and like Soban, at random pockets of debris outside.

“You feel that vibration, ‘Lance? Engine status?”

“I—uh … Vibration is in the upper caution range, but nothing else appears to be out of the ordinary.”

“Let’s hope we don’t tear the engine off, then,” Soban punched in some numbers on navigation, and moved to the engineering console. “Setting course for the gate. Approximately four minutes until—THERE, Firelance! There!”

“What? What where?” Firelance bolted towards the window where Soban pointed.

Soban groaned. “It’s Sajuuk!”

Firelance unleashed a barrage of profanities. “What’s it doing?”

“I don’t know. I think—Damn it, it’s heading for the gate.”

“Oh for fu—Any other ships with it?”

“I’m … not sure. Something is following right behind it. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was towing something,” Soban withdrew from the window and looked at the navigation readouts. “How much time do we … Okay, some good news. We should get to the gate about fifteen seconds before they do.”

“Will fifteen seconds be enough to warn Harmony?”

“Hopefully, if our comms actually work. Let’s just hope the Elements can fire fast enough.”

“Assuming we get there intact. A fifteen-second distance would surely have us in their weapons range, no?”

“We have no other option. Punch it!”

It was only as the destroyer approached the gate, that Soban and Firelance noticed the similarities between this gate, and the one in their galaxy. As they got closer, Firelance focused on the thinnest part of the gate’s structure.

“I think I might have an idea. Aren’t those the power modules?” Firelance pointed. “They look the same as the ones in our galaxy, anyway.”

“What about them?”

“I overheard that the gate on our side was externally powered. I’m going to guess this gate is that external power. You think we can dump all our tubes on the power modules? If we time it right, we should be able to get through the gate before the torpedoes hit—”

“… Allowing us to get through, and Sajuuk to be trapped!” Soban’s face lit up in excitement. “Brilliant! ‘Lance, take my place and keep her on course. I’ll have to set a custom flightpath for the torpedoes over on weapons.”

After a momentary flurry of fingers across the side-screen at the weapons station, the destroyer’s torpedo tubes once again burst open, revealing the nose cones of the remaining twenty-five torpedoes. Approaching from one angle, while Sajuuk approached from another, the two ships drew closer and closer, racing to the finish line.

“We’re in Sajuuk’s weapon range,” Firelance observed. “No incoming fire, and no phased cannon charging detected. Yet.”

Soban stood ready to fire the torpedoes. “Okay, this last half minute will determine our fates. Whatever happens to us, we’ll make sure the gate closes.”

“Oh, oh, wait! I wanna press the big red button as well!” Firelance galloped towards Soban, and the weapons station. “Ahem. If you’ll excuse my cheesy statement … For Equestria!” he flipped up the covering and hovered his hoof over the button.

Soban shrugged, and placed his hand atop Firelance’s hoof. “For Hiigara. And the Whirlpool Galaxy.”

At an exchange of nods, the two pushed down. A multitude of hissing noises followed, as the torpedoes shot out and followed their pre-programmed courses towards the external components that kept the gate alive.


“Excuse me, Midnight?” Twilight’s voice entered the bridge hesitantly.

“Mmm?”

“I …” Twilight sighed. “I’ve been working with some of Nabaal’s crew and looking at possible ways we could shut the gate down. I believe we’ve found a way. You’re not going to like it, though.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“We’ve already established we can’t destroy Khorsabad from the outside, but there is a high probability we can do so from the inside.”

“You’re suggesting we send in a crew to place demolitions?” Midnight raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t we already rule out marine frigate insertion and teleportation?”

“No, that’s not what I was getting at. We should be able to completely overload the fortress systems using a massive burst of power from one of our hyperspace cores.”

“That … makes sense. Alright, so what’s the catch?”

“Are you familiar with the consequences of collapsing a quantum wave-field?”

“If I remember correctly from Hiigaran history, it results in an explosion so large, that nearby ships must hyperspace to safety.”

“Exactly. I’ve run some simulations, and the outcome should be an internal detonation of Khorsabad. Everything inside would vaporise from the sheer core power, resulting in enough pressure to cause the armour to essentially burst open.”

“And what of the core and its occupant? Surely the—is that what I think it is? Corona?”

“Gate activity!” Corona yelled. “Something’s coming through! It’s Phoenix!”

“Ha! The Captain made it!” Shining Armour thrust a hoof in the air.

Corona squinted. “Uhh, is that normal? Why is the gate flickering like—”

“Harmony, if you’re reading us, get the fleet ready!” Soban’s voice cracked through his battered comms. “We might have company.”

“Been ready ever since you left,” Midnight felt the beginnings of a smile he could scarcely recall having in a long time. “Welcome back. Construction bay is free for you to dock. Oh, and your friends are here too, if you haven’t noticed.”

“What … is … THAT?” Corona’s face turned into a mix of fear and horror.

Through the gate’s violent flickering, the front-most tip of Sajuuk emerged, with its menacing beak-like protrusion that housed the all-too-familiar weapon capable of instantly boring a hole clean into the toughest of ships. The tan-coloured hull continued to materialise and force its way out. Half-way through, the hull colour made way for a single vertical red stripe; the simple, yet striking insignia of the Progenitor race.

Harmony’s fleet, still cloaked, remained locked on to the newcomer. Every turret tracked the ship of a being who fancied himself a god. The Hiigaran fleet, Midnight noticed, had also engaged their cloak generators and likely followed suit in tracking the invader.

Soban watched with loathing from his limping vessel, as the last part of Sajuuk slid out of the gate. The unmistakable triangular section came next, containing empty pits, all hungry for the hyperspace cores of legend. Harmony’s cores.

Yet just as the pits arrived through the gate, the portal to the Progenitor galaxy dissipated abruptly and went dark. Sajuuk ceased to move of its own accord and began to drift. Its engines had not come through, leaving a gaping hole in the back of the vessel where loose objects and alien beings vented out along with their atmosphere.

Soban saw this, just as his destroyer slid inside Harmony’s construction bay. Seizing this opportunity in a flash, he gave the orders. “Midnight! Give it all we’ve got!”

“With pleasure, Captain. All fleet assets, engage Sajuuk, formation foxtrot!”

“You heard him, guys!” Nabaal yelled. “Show Sajuuk what Hiigarans are made of!”

The fleets charged in, assuming a spherical formation around the crippled vessel, holding nothing back. Though largely ineffective against the toughened armour of Sajuuk, they gradually chipped away at the behemoth’s exterior, faster than the ship’s advanced repair systems could compensate.

“Hey, does anypony else see what I’m seeing?” one of the interceptor pilots wondered, as he weaved between the short-range nanite cannon defence weapons, and allowed his copilot to absorb other strikes with his shield. “Sajuuk looks like it’s turning, and I don’t think it’s from drift. Something tells me that—uhh, Harmony? Move! Fast!”

Midnight’s eyes widened. “Oh crap! Corona! Manoeuvre us clear of that firing arc! All fleet assets, be advised! Sajuuk is still partially operational. Assume phased cannon array is online. We—Captain!” he turned around as he heard Soban’s frantic footsteps approaching. “About time you showed up!”

“Twilight!” Soban yelled. “Now’s as good a time as any for the Elements!”

“We’ll need a few seconds to get ready,” the lead Element replied.

Corona quickly cut in, “I’ve set a course for Harmony, but it’s only going to buy us a few more seconds. We’re too far out to outmanoeuvre Sajuuk.”

“Hurry, Twilight!” Soban shouted. “You heard Corona!.”

“Sajuuk’s firing arc approaches!” Corona began to sweat. “Fifteen seconds until we are in its sights.”

“The Elements are ready to fire in ten seconds,” Twilight informed the bridge. “We’re waiting for the cores to charge up.”

A pool had developed underneath Corona. “Five seconds on Sajuuk! Power surge detected aboard it. They’re charging the phased cannon!”

“Elements of Harmony charged. Here goes nothing. Beware, I have no idea what this will do,” Twilight warned.

Sajuuk had only charged its cannon half-way when Harmony rumbled loudly from within. The entire ship seemed to glow and turn spectral, until the light that emanated from the very skin of the vessel became blindingly blue-white. Time itself may have frozen at that moment, as a raging tsunami of translucent rainbow light pulsed out in every direction.

The pulse had travelled straight through the ships in Harmony’s and Nabaal’s fleets, and raced towards Sajuuk. With bated breath, the crew could only stare at the wavy flow of energy that drew closer and closer to the hostile super-weapon.

As with the others, the pulse passed through Sajuuk, unimpeded.

“What just happened?” Soban blinked. “Twilight?”

“I—I’m not sure.”

“The Elements did nothing!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Captain,” Midnight pointed at the viewscreen. “Sajuuk should have fired by now. We should be dead already.”

Soban frowned. “You’re right. What is—”

“Hey, what happened to our weapons?” one of Nabaal’s ships radioed in.

“Yeah, ours are down, too,” Timberwolf followed. “Systems are fried beyond repair. Only weapons, though.”

“Oh, I think I see now!” Twilight exclaimed. “Elements of Harmony! It’s a weapon against weapons! Anything nearby will permanently lose weapons capabilities. We don’t appear to be affected, though.”

“Our interceptors seem to be unaffected, too,” Soban observed the small mass of fighters swarming over the now disabled Sajuuk.

“Maybe it only affects large ships?”

“The bombers aren’t firing,” Shining Armour added, noting a distinct lack of blue plasma orbs being lobbed by the other fighters.

“I don’t have an explanation for everything!” Twilight huffed.

“Well, Sajuuk has been neutralised. That’s good enough for me. Let’s finish this,” Soban ordered.

Harmony’s ion-cannon turrets centred, and the shrill cry of four ion-beams sounded once more, as they raked across the Progenitor warship. Countless times, this process was repeated, but the more the weapons crew fired, the more they came to realise that their attempts proved to be ineffective as the sole weapons-capable capital ship on the battlefield.

Soban frowned. “We’re not getting anywhere with this. Sajuuk has the fastest self-repair systems I have ever seen. We’ve tried concentrating fire on one point, and the repair systems fix it up within half a minute!”

“That’s not thing only thing it’s repairing,” Corona added. “I’m seeing power spikes in the phased cannon array.”

“Damn, we need the Elements again. Twilight!” the Captain shouted.

“Way ahead of you. Give us a few seconds.”

Once again, Harmony found itself in its temporary spectral state, as another pulse raced away, and cleansed Sajuuk of its violent capabilities.

“We can’t keep doing this forever, Mel,” Twilight stated. “This will completely exhaust us if we repeat this a few more times.”

“And we can’t call in further reinforcements,” Shining Armour concluded. “They’ll end up powerless as well.”

“We have another problem,” Rarity joined in. “It looks like the gate might be powering up again. I’m detecting another energy buildup on one of the pylons.”

“What? Oh, perfect!” Soban scowled. “And we just destroyed our fleet’s combat capabilities as well!”

Midnight looked up at the loudspeaker on the ceiling. “Twilight, what was it you were saying before about destroying the fortress with one of the cores? You mentioned an explosion so large that we’d have to hyperspace to safety, yes? Would the explosion be large enough to destroy Sajuuk in the process?”

“More than enough. There is that catch I was trying to get to, though. One of us will have to be present in the core to initiate the detonation. While the core can survive the explosion relatively intact, I have no idea if the occupant can survive.”

“We have no choice. We are out of time, and out of ideas.” Midnight rose from his heat and rushed out of the bridge.

“Now wait just a moment, Midnight!” Soban caught up to the grey stallion. “I’m not going to send any of our core mares to their possible deaths!”

“You won’t have to. I volunteer myself.”

“That’s just as bad, Midnight! Besides, you’re not an Element.”

“According to Twilight, the theory is that the Elements merely amplify the characteristic the core’s occupant represents. They are at their most responsive and powerful states when the wielder shows defining qualities of an Element. I choose the honesty core. Applejack, disconnect from your core immediately. Captain, call back all strike-craft, get Harmony as close to Khorsabad’s power module latch points, and drop me off there. Then get our fleet, and the Hiigarans to safety. Hurry, before Sajuuk repairs its cannon again!”

“I can’t let you do this, Midnight.”

“Hey! You try to stop me, and I will knock you out. We have no choice. Now go! Do your job, so I can do mine!”


Captain Soban watched as the gate of Khorsabad revived. “We’re out of time! The gate is opening! What’s your progress, Midnight?”

“I’m almost in place. ETA is thirty seconds,” Midnight replied, as he and his core slowed to a crawl, and began the final process of attaching to the fortress. “Whatever comes through that gate, you’ll need to hold them off long enough.”

“Understood, Midnight.”

Several destroyer-sized ships emerged and immediately spread out. Pulses of energy shot out from them in random directions, shooting blindly until one stray round fried Harmony’s cloak generator. Visible, the newcomers now faced their targets, and from underneath their hulls, a large plasma cannon on each ship charged and hurled their high-temperature payloads at random ships.

Seeing this, the still-cloaked Hiigaran ships manoeuvred between Harmony’s fleet, and the Progenitors, acting as crude meat-shields, but not before several large blobs of plasma found their way onto Harmony. In an instant, plumes of smoke and atmosphere were visibly venting from the rear of the vessel. The force had been powerful enough to hurl Corona out of her seat and up to the ceiling, before she fell into a crumpled heap beside her station.

Soban steadied himself after the violent quake. “Get a medic up here! Shining, our cloak is down. Bring your shield up, then get me a ship report from Corona’s station?”

With a flick of his horn, Shining brought up his shield, then galloped toward the unconscious mare. Picking her up, he wrapped a hoof around Corona and secured himself to her station, before looking through the unfamiliar interfaces for the information Soban needed. “Catastrophic damage to the engine and cloak generator compartments. Engines are barely functional, but the cloak generator is damaged beyond repair. Reports are still coming in on crew injuries. Some sound serious. The rest of the fleet isn’t faring too well, either.”

“Harmony, I’ve established a connection to the fortress,” Midnight’s voice quivered slightly. “Get the hay out of here, now!”

“Midnight, I just want to say– … What’s wrong with comms?”

“I think the transmitter is out,” Shining confirmed on the damage report. “Yeah, we’re only able to receive.”

“No, damn it!” the Captain swore.

“We need to jump—”

“Fine, fine, engage hyperspace.”


Harmony’s retreat had been a silent affair. Emerging well clear of the blast zone alongside the Hiigaran fleet, all they could do was wait until the initial radiation had dispersed into safer levels. With no reason to remain, Captain Soban informed the Hiigaran fleet they were free to return to Hiigara for repairs.

“All we can do now is wait for a few minutes,” Corona stated.

Soban did not reply. Instead, he read through a list of crew sent by the chief medic, indicating all injuries. Many of the injuries included broken bones and concussions. Several were temporarily listed as missing, until the core mares rapidly located the remaining trapped, unconscious, or otherwise injured crew.

Shining Armour broke the Captain out of his daze. “Oh, right, I forgot to show this to you when we jumped out, as we were a little distracted, but just before we left we received an audio message. From Midnight. Would you like me to play it?”

Soban merely nodded.

“Greetings, Harmony. I hope I am able to record what may be my final thoughts and send them out before you guys disappear, so here goes …

It’s quite surreal, really. Floating about in this little room, sucking in every little detail of my surroundings, while pondering both my impending doom, and … Well, this will sound silly, but also the meaning of life.

I suppose I should apologise for my actions. I know you’d consider me to be the first to have given my life under your command, but if it makes you feel better, it was my choice and mine alone. You bear no responsibility for the decision I had made. Believe me, if we had time and alternatives, I’d have jumped at those opportunities, but hey!

There’s a lot about my life most don’t know about, but suffice it to say I never found fulfilment in anything before you came crashing down in a metal fireball those many months ago. I have lived and seen more in my short time under your command, than I have in the rest of my life, and as I remain alone here, at peace with my final deed, I can take comfort in the fact that most have never experienced as much as I have. What our crew have. Yet as I watch your hyperspace windows consume you all, only four words come to mind as I channel this device’s energy into the fortress …

I have no regrets.”


“Hyperspace successful,” Corona reported, having insisted on returning to her post immediately after regaining consciousness.

“Sitrep, Corona,” the Captain requested.

“It worked. The quantum wave-field collapse consumed the fortress and Sajuuk in its blast. Only a few remains of the fortress are registering. Even the surrounding asteroids seem to have been vaporised.”

“What of the core? Midnight?”

“Scanning … The core is drifting away from the blast zone on heading zero-one-one mark zero-seven-niner. Shall I input short-jump coordinates to intercept it?”

“Do it. Prepare our collector while you’re at it. If you need me, message me through engineering. I’ll be waiting in the core section.”


“Collector one approaching drop-off zone. Stand-by receiving crews.”

“Acknowledged,” the chief engineer replied. “Core signature recognised. Guidance lock responding.”

“I have a visual on the external hatch opening,” the collector pilot observed. “Awaiting release.”

“Guidance lock confirmed. Release when ready.”

At precisely the right position above the narrow hatch, the collector released the core and nudged it ever so slightly, allowing it to descend at a safe rate. With precision, the core fit inside, and the external hatch sealed the area off, allowing the space to be re-pressurised for Harmony’s crew. As the core approached the bottom, several couplings from all angles took hold of the core, securing it in place for various connections to Harmony, while pressure seals allowed the space to be filled with air.

The instant the connecting walkway attached to the entrance of the core, a pair of medics rushed past the Captain and disappeared into the bowels of the device. Soban followed suit, though at a much slower pace.

Eventually he navigated his way through the core and arrived in the small room where Midnight should have been. Upon noticing his arrival, the medics briefly looked up at Soban, before one of them simply shook his head without uttering a single word.

The Captain slowly approached the area where the medics sat and knelt down beside them, staring at the floor, where a pony-shaped covering of soot barely stood out against the already darkened ground.

“At least it was quick,” one medic finally broke the silence. “Probably felt nothing.”

“Anything we can do for you, Captain?” the other turned to face Soban.

“No, I— … Gather his remains. Just—just give me a few minutes alone, please.

The medics nodded and mounted their side-bags, leaving the room and disappearing into the shadows of the dim corridor outside.

Soban waited a moment longer, staring at the ground. “You did it, Midnight. Your plan worked.”

He paused again, taking a deep breath and sighing. “I should be celebrating this victory. We all should. Nothing this big has happened since the Beast War, and even that pales in comparison to what you did today. And yet—” he choked, feeling the beginnings of tears welling up.

“And yet I can’t celebrate,” he continued, dabbing an eye with his sleeve. “Not for this. Without the one responsible, it just doesn’t feel right.”

Soban took another pause, allowing his shaky breathing to pass, and his quivering voice to steady.

“I got your message, by the way. Made me reminisce over these months. You know, back before all this started, I had my life with my Kiith. Was like an extended family. But I realised the longer I spent with all of you, the more I started to question who my real family actually is.”

“Of course, by blood, I am undoubtedly Sobani, but during my short time here and on your planet, I can only say that you are all my family. My Kiith. Fierce, loyal companions. The Sobani warriors couldn’t hold a candle to all of you.”

Soban rose to his feet. “But, I have experienced enough death, be it the Vaygr, Raiders, the entire Kadeshi race, my Hiigaran comrades, or your own. It is not a way of life I enjoy, nor agree with. After all this time, I think it is only appropriate that I do this …”

With that, Captain Soban placed his right hand on his left shoulder patch; the insignia of his Kiith. He took a moment to prepare himself, before tearing the patch off, along with part of his uniform. He stared at the piece of fabric in his hands, then gently laid it atop Midnight’s remains, satisfied with the ancient ritual that signified the abandonment of his Kiith.

“You said you had no regrets. Perhaps I can find solace in that. My regret, though? My regret is that I never took the time to know you better.”

No longer Melarn Soban of Kiith Soban, the Equestrian Captain paid his final respects and left.

A crowd had gathered by the time Soban emerged from the core. Amongst them, Soban noticed, were Twilight and her friends, freshly disconnected from their cores, if Twilight’s futile attempts to conceal her nauseous state were any indication. Ignoring the crowd, the Captain made his way back up to the bridge.

“Engineering reports our hull breaches have been repaired sufficiently to safely allow for an extended journey through hyperspace,” Corona reported. “And we already know what happened in the core bays. Word already spread about Midnight’s … about Midnight. I wish I had the words to—”

“He gave his life to save a galaxy,” Soban maintained composure. “No words could do him justice. To stand alone against a being long since revered as a god, and a fleet intended to wipe us all out. But thanks to Midnight, it’s all over,” he sunk into his seat. “Let’s head home, Corona. To Equestria.”