19 - When Gravity Fails
Days of Wasp and Spider
by Luna-tic Scientist
Let me show you a magic trick. I'm going to make this pencil disappear.
-- Joker, The Dark Knight.
=== Chapter 19 (remastered): When Gravity Fails ===
Author's note:
This chapter is an alternate ending. It gets pretty dark (figuratively and literally...). You have been warned.
Salrath looked blearily at the wall screen and read the text of her report for what seemed like the twentieth time. It looked okay, but her well honed paranoia -- now very close to the surface since she'd missed the last dose of her medication -- made her find fault with everything. This is terrible, she thought, but Salrath is sick of it. With a stroke of one paw she sent the document off into the electronic void, destined for the board that would no doubt decide her future based on what she should have done, rather than what she actually did.
Working her jaw, she scratched with one paw at her stomach under where her utility vest stopped, while scrolling through her messages with the other. Most were the normal irrelevant rubbish that any large organization generated; invitations to meetings being carried out in other sectors, or talks on subjects she had no interest in, but there was one flagged urgent.
Thirty seconds later the now fully awake Agent was dashing down the corridor, typing instructions into her comms bracer while talking to the Security dispatcher. She had to call in all of her small number of favours, but by the time she reached the executive hangar she'd acquired both the equipment she needed and permission to borrow a fast aircar.
Dropping the heavy instrument case onto the rear seats, she tapped the coordinates into the autopilot and tried to relax as the vehicle lifted from its pad and accelerated out of the Pit. The message had been brief, only a few words -- a name and a location -- but startling in its implications. If this is true then Salrath will be a hero, the Agent thought. More to the point, she was right.
===
The blue mare paced the clearing in the patch of forest. After fleeing from her sister, Gravity had flown as hard as she could, hoping the fast, cold air would help clear her mind. It worked, if only a little.
"How could you do this to me!" she shouted to the forest. The emptiness in her head threatened to make her weep. I'll fix this, she thought, it will be alright soon. Her orders had been terse and to the point: 'Gravity Resonance TP5325 will stay in its current location until collected'.
After another kilosecond of pacing she finally heard the whispering hiss of an air vehicle, its crystal levitation drive completely silent and only betrayed by the sound of air over its hull. The craft -- a teardrop shaped black aircar -- did one fast pass, then circled around to land at the centre of the clearing. A Master stepped out, reaching back in to the vehicle to pick up a bulky-looking case. The mare stared at that case; she'd seen one like it before, a few days ago at the training ground.
Gravity, feeling suddenly lighter in the presence of a Master, cantered over, only to stop dead when she saw who it was. Her ears folded flat. "Greetings, Agent Salrath," she said, dropping to her knees on the grass. A sudden dread flooded through her; this was the Master who'd said that the foals were...
The Agent smiled at her, a grin full of sharp, white teeth. "Tell this one. Tell this one everything," she said.
"Yes, Master," Gravity said, bowing her head and staring at the ground. She started to talk, telling the Agent all that her sister had told her, and all that her sister had done. When she had finished she risked a look up at Salrath; if anything the Agent's smile had become even more shark-like, growing until it threatened to span her whole head. She cringed slightly at that smile. "Master," she said tentatively, "can you help me? I just want my sister back."
Salrath said nothing, just stood there and looked down at her. "This one can fix all the pony's problems." She opened the lid of the case, bringing out a circle of black metal. Little gems lined its inner surface, pulsing in a pattern that seemed to dance around the ring.
Gravity stared at the crown. Mouth opening slightly, she moistened her lips hungrily. "Please, Master," she said, leaning forward slightly. She can fix me.
The Agent raised the crown over the mare's head for a second, then lowered it gently. "The pony is Blessed in the name of the Maker," she said mockingly.
Gravity's vision whited out and she fell sideways onto the grass.
When the mare awoke she felt good; as good as she had done when she'd received her labour tattoo. Little jolts of pleasure ran through her body as she thought back to the stressful conversation with the Agent. I did the right thing, she thought, the Maker has forgiven me. Looking around, she saw the once empty clearing was now full of other vehicles; there had to have been twenty Masters present.
Beside her stood a stallion wearing a Security equipment harness. "Excellent, you are awake. Come with me please, you need to be examined to see what was done to you." He waved her to one of the airtrucks.
The blue mare nodded her thanks, got to her hooves and climbed into the back of the vehicle. At the entrance she paused, taking one last glance at the clearing; heavily armed gryphon troopers were just starting to land at the far end. I did do the right thing, didn't I?
The flash of pain in her head didn't quite erase her lingering doubts.
===
Salrath gagged at the taste of the stimulant spray; she'd already been up for the best part of two hundred kiloseconds -- two whole days -- when this particular problem had dropped into her lap. Opportunity, she thought, not problem. This one's name will be well known after this. She straightened her utility vest and ran her claws through the fur on her head, trying to look at least professional to the group she was about to address.
The little light over the camera flashed green and her screen came alive with a collection of head-and-shoulders video thumbnails, the outgoing feed visible as an inset square in the corner. On the rest of the screen was her boss -- Leader Turma, his boss -- Sector Chief Orgon, and everyone's boss -- Strategist Faungo. On the civilian side were Councillor Indutu and a sour faced Academician Vanca.
The Strategist was the first to speak. "The Agent has done excellent work. The conclusions appear obvious from her report, but perhaps she could summarise?"
Salrath nodded her thanks to the camera, unable to keep a smile from her muzzle. "Approximately ten kiloseconds ago, this one was routed a message from one of the servitors in Academician Vanca's group, designated Gravity Resonance TP5325." If anything, the scientist's face grew even more thunderous, but she said nothing. Salrath has got you now, the Agent thought. "It reported that its kin, Fusion Pulse TC4668, had broken its conditioning and had a method to break the conditioning in other servitors. It also said it had learned new thaumic techniques of great power."
The image of the Councillor leaned forward slightly. "Agent, how fast was the servitor able to break the conditioning of the other pony?"
So Indutu didn't read much of Salrath's report, Salrath thought, suppressing her mild irritation. "The servitor estimates it took less than a hundred seconds, but it could be as little as ten seconds."
"How long has it been in the corral? It is still there, isn't it? the Councillor said, suddenly looking worried.
"There are two hundred and seventeen servitors at that corral. Fusion Pulse has had at least half a day to work without interruption. Its communicator was destroyed within the last ten kiloseconds and we have no tracking data for that period. Its current location has been confirmed by a pair of Security servitors working off long range sensing spells."
The Strategist grunted and held up one paw to silence Salrath. "Does the Councillor accept the nature of the problem now? This must be stopped immediately; if left unchecked the servitor revolt will spread rapidly. Independent of what it would do to us, it would attract the attention of the World Court. Does Faungo need to remind Indutu of the existence of the Hammer? They would not hesitate to use it if they find out."
The Councillor seemed to wilt slightly under the Strategist's hard gaze. "Academician? What is the Institute's view?"
"Vanca's view is that an expert in servitor psychology should be called," she said, the annoyance obvious in her tone. "It seems highly unlikely that an experienced servitor would become hostile even if the conditioning was removed." The Academician waved one paw in a throw-away gesture. "Which makes them irrelevant. The real problem is the other things Fusion Pulse is capable of. If even half of what the Agent has told us is true, the People are in big trouble."
Salrath bristled at the implied accusation in Vanca's words. "This one assures the Academician that--"
"No one is doubting Salrath's findings," the Sector Chief said. "Vanca has the most experience with the servitor; what does she think the biggest risk is?"
"There is no real theory to explain how it happened, but it is clear that it has formed some connection with Celestia. Some researchers believe that our world is a created thing, and that there is some kind of intelligence or mechanism operating at the lowest levels of space-time that controls magic. The latest experiments have found hints of order in the fine structure of the universe, and--"
The Councillor looked pained. "Please stop. Vanca is starting to sound like a member of the priesthood. What is the Academician's point?"
Vanca sighed. "Fine. It may be able to directly control solar output," she said, keeping her voice flat and emotionless.
There was a moment of stunned silence, then all the comms channels erupted as every person tried to speak at once. Salrath leaned back in her chair and tried to hide a grin. Absolute garbage, she thought, like anything we do could affect the sun!
The Councillor must have done something to his controls, because every channel went quiet, even though the people on them were obviously still talking. "That's enough. This one needs to brief the Synod in one kilosecond. Sector Chief, your opinion?"
"Baur Hive has already raised a complaint with the World Court. Kill it and any servitor it has come into contact with as soon as possible. If we use thaumic suppression it won't be able to do anything."
"Academician?"
"The creature has some of the powers attributed to the Creation Stones. Use the suppressors, but capture it alive for study. Do what you like with the rest."
"Strategist?"
"While the other two suggestions have a lot of merit, we should consider one other option. Negotiate."
"With a servitor? Is Faungo out of his mind!?" the Councillor said, unable to maintain his normally smooth expression.
"That is this one's opinion. If the worst case is true, then we will lose everything."
"If Indutu takes that to the Synod, they will have your head, and his. Make a different choice."
Faungo shrugged. "Then kill it quickly. If it is not protected, then a non thaumicly active precision weapon would be the best option. The strike would be hypersonic and the target would only have a tenth of a second warning."
The Councillor nodded his thanks to everyone, then the screen went blank.
===
They chose capture, with precautions.
As soon as the Synod had reached its decision, things started to move quickly. The clearing, already full of Security vehicles, became a staging area for the squadron of gryphon special forces that would be going in the instant the thaumic suppressor came online. Security had successfully beaten the Military for the honour of carrying out the assault, so for the last kilosecond, alpha units of Rippers -- the infamous Red Deaths -- had been flying in to receive their last second orders.
Security would not do everything, however. The regular military would be providing a pair of thaumic suppression vehicles, satellite overwatch and the 'precautions'. Salrath's role had shifted slightly; her experience did not cover this kind of large scale assault, so she was managing the covert surveillance operation. This was in the form of three Security servitors lying in a loose circle on the grass.
"Well?" she said impatiently to the nearest pony, nudging the slightly built cream stallion with the claws on one foot. He had his eyes closed and appeared to be muttering something under his breath, completely oblivious to her presence.
The pony twitched and the milky halo around his horn flickered slightly. He opened one eye to look at Salrath. "The subject is still within the bounds of the corral," he said distantly, mind obviously on his magic, "but only just. I am detecting significant magical events, but they do not match any known spell."
Salrath thought about asking the other two the same question, but it seemed unlikely they would know any more. This trio were one of the top rated surveillance teams in the whole sector, and as little as she trusted servitors, their records were impressive. "Perhaps the pony would like to share its information?" she asked sarcastically.
The stallion winced, the breath woofing out of him. "Yes, Master," he croaked.
That's right servitor, Salrath thought with a slight smile, don't ever forget what you are. To his left the horn of the second pony -- this one a bright orange mare with short cropped yellow mane and tail -- changed hue and brightened slightly. In the gap between the three a model of the corral and surroundings appeared. It was beautifully detailed, looking almost like a satellite image, except in full three dimensions. The Agent was convinced that if she got a magnifier, she'd be able to see the individual leaves on the trees.
Amid the miniature buildings and small fields of the corral were little model ponies, some stationary, some moving about. All except one were marked by bright pinpoints of green light; the last servitor was all but invisible under the trees of the apple orchard. Salrath frowned at that. "Salrath needs to be able to identify the subject," she said.
At her words, a circle of trees around the lone pony became transparent, little blown glass sculptures tinted green and brown. The Agent smiled; she'd recognise that servitor anywhere. Lifting her comms bracer, she spoke softly into the pickup. "Subject has been located; this one is ready for linking to battlenet." She nodded to the final servitor, a grey mare, who stared fixedly at the model, the crystal studded collar she wore flickering in time to the pulsing of her horn.
"Battlenet link stable," came the voice of an unknown technician at a distant command centre, "updating satellite feed."
Salrath trotted back to one of the Security command vehicles and settled into an unoccupied chair. On the screen was an image of the corral, obviously taken from a satellite. The picture didn't have the resolution of the thaumic surveillance plot, but was good enough to locate all the servitors. Little markers started to populate the video, each a name and code number, each linked to a servitor. Now the computer knew which servitor was which, it would be able to track them even after the suppressor came online.
Also on this screen were a number of red diamonds, slowly filtering in from the edges of the plot to surround the corral and all the ponies. These were the gryphon special forces teams; clad in their active camouflage, they had been creeping into position for the last kilosecond or so, and were now getting close enough that they risked discovery.
Salrath waited impatiently for the operation to start; they couldn't hold much longer as servitors would soon start to come off shift, increasing the collateral damage significantly -- not to mention giving the rogue more potential converts. Even at this time of day, Security had been kept busy diverting in and out bound ponies.
There had been a certain amount of controlled panic when the first servitor had left the corral. There was still a fear -- despite what the servitor psychology experts had had told them -- that the rogue had managed to suborn other ponies and was sending them out to spread the revolt. The pony had flown out and, when it was far enough from the corral that it could be intercepted if necessary, had been ordered to divert to an isolated spot.
The creature had asked for confirmation of its orders, causing some tension among the crew of the anti-air weapon tasked to tracking it, but had landed without incident. There it had been collared and interrogated, before being quietly euthanized. The information it had revealed had caused great relief; as far as it knew, Fusion Pulse had kept itself isolated. Despite this, the attack plan remained unchanged.
"All units, prepare to attack," came the obviously mechanical voice of the battlenet systems. This was one standard throughout the Hive; on operations where timing was paramount, all orders were given by the computer.
Salrath leaned forward, hunching over the control panel to get a better look at the screen. Here at the command post they were privy to the whole battle plan, but this was not true for the front line troops waiting in their camouflaged nests. Especially not this next order.
Far over the horizon was what ground troops uncharitably called a missile truck; so-called because the flight crew were little more than glorified drivers for the almost completely automated weapon system they flew around. The machine, a fat lens of a vehicle studded with a hexagonal array of vertical launch missile silos, flew a race-track course at just over tree-top height.
"Launching salvo in five seconds," said battlenet, and in the cockpit the pilot glanced at his weapon's officer, who leaned back against her harness and shrugged slightly. Without any intervention by the crew, a pair of slim darts burst from their cells and accelerated towards the horizon. They were gone in a flash, their thaumic boosters converting stored energy to momentum without any need for reaction mass. They worked in the same way as any normal aircar, only far, far faster.
Back at the clearing, Salrath fiddled with the video controls to try and get a better view of the rogue. Any second... now! she thought. At that instant, half her displays went dead as the thaumic suppression vehicles turned their special -- and extremely expensive -- crystal arrays towards the distant corral. At the same moment, everything magical in the target area would have ceased to function, rendering the ponies helpless.
Outside the command vehicle there came a cry of pain from the three Security servitors and Salrath nodded. Always nice to have confirmation, she thought, her attention riveted on the satellite view. The little version of Fusion had moved, and had started back towards the corral, before turning again and galloping in the other direction.
Does that mean that it really hasn't converted any of the other servitors, or just that it's trying to draw us away from the others? The Agent pondered this; whatever she thought of the creature, it obviously had great reserves of willpower, and after it had fooled her in the Institute she wouldn't put anything past it. We'll find out soon enough, she thought.
The white pony-model was running quickly now, only occasionally visible as it zigzagged through the trees. It might have been an attempt to evade the surveillance, but this was futile; although Salrath's view was in visible light, the computer had married that with infra-red for tracking through the canopy. There was nothing it could do to escape.
They had been ready for this eventuality; Ripper teams had been placed at the most likely points, and even now they were repositioning themselves to block the servitor's flight. Everyone always thought of gryphons as aerial hunters, but at least half their genome came from big cats, and they retained that species' abilities as ambush predators.
For a moment, Salrath thought the troopers had left it too late, but even as she reached for her comms unit, a quartet of lean brown shapes exploded into motion. They seemed to cover the twenty or so lengths to the galloping servitor in a heartbeat, converging on the white shape. There was a flicker of motion, one white wing flared out at the nearest gryphon, then a second soldier reached out and touched the pony's hindquarters.
The contact appeared only glancing, almost accidental, but the rogue tripped and tumbled, legs and wings going in all directions. All four gryphons converged on the downed pony in a spray of dust and feathers; the last thing Salrath saw of the servitor was its pink tail, spread out on the leaf litter between the brown bodies. She leaned back with a smile, feeling the sudden release of a tension she didn't realise she'd been under.
Off in the distance was a rumble of thunder, the sound of the Military's 'precautions' self destructing.
===
For an instant there was a feeling like someone had shut her in a glass box.
"No!" Fusion cried, instinctively reaching for her magic, but there was only the faintest spark there. She pushed, straining her mind to find some way past the barrier. Nothing worked, and she was distracted from her efforts by the sound of screaming. Her head whipped up, tracking the noise, then she looked on in horror as a green pony with white mane and tail plummeted out of the sky, wings thrashing uselessly. There was a nasty, final thud and a sudden silence, like the world was holding its breath.
More cries and yells from the distant corral, but Fusion didn't spare the time to listen. All her aches and pains from being thrown through the trees faded, and she kicked up clods of soil as she galloped in the opposite direction. The sudden lack of magic, that pony falling out of the sky, it could mean only one thing: Gravity had sided with the Masters. As she ran, she tried not to think of the white maned pony, tried not to connect that falling shape with Spiral Fracture, the medic who'd treated her only this morning. Nothing mattered other than getting out from under the effect of this suppression field.
So preoccupied was she with avoiding the various obstacles that could trip a running pony, that she didn't notice the danger until it was too late. The first one approached on her blind side, only detected over the thunder of her own hooves by the hissing of dry leaves. Some distant part of her brain knew those sounds, knew what to do even as her conscious mind still struggled to get to grips with this rapidly unfolding disaster.
She jinked sideways and put on an extra burst of speed, managing to avoid the first whatever-it-was. She actually saw the second attacker, a brown feathered blur exploding from cover no more than a dozen lengths in front of her. Precious instants were wasted straining for magic that wasn't there, then all she could do was lash out with one useless wing -- a ploy that the gryphon avoided easily -- and try to dodge again.
Something hooked around one of her back hooves, a bruising impact that knocked her sideways and tangled her legs together. Fusion tripped and, with that slow motion inevitability, tumbled to the ground. Sky and ground changed places with dizzying speed, and the leaf litter that had been so soft to lie on came up to hit her with stunning force.
Fusion landed heavily on her left side, one wing taking most of the impact. Something snapped inside her shoulder, but there was no pain, the shock was too great. Stunned for an instant, she had no time to react when the four gryphons in form fitting body armour jumped on her. Their movements were practiced, showing all the hallmarks of long experience.
The first gripped her horn with one foreclaw, while wrapping the long scaly talons of his other around her throat with enough force to stop her breathing. Two others held her at withers and hips, making sure to keep a good grip on her wings, as well as legs. Even with her magic neutralized they were taking no chances, and she could feel the cruel talon tips digging into her flesh. It was like being restrained by creatures with fistfuls of knives.
All Fusion could see was a sky made of armour scales and short brown feathers from the creature that crouched over her head. It moved, and another set of talons closed over her muzzle, gripping with bone crushing force. She could just see their owner, as she clipped something cold about Fusion's throat and slid a familiar ring over her horn.
Recognition kick-started her mind, and with thought came panic and the long delayed pain. She thrashed and tried to scream past the claws holding her throat and muzzle shut, but her movements produced a spike of agony so intense that she dropped into blessed oblivion.
===
"Is it awake?"
A stinging sensation at her throat washed away the comfortable darkness. Fusion opened her eyes, wondering for a moment why she could only see out of the right one. Then her predicament hit home and she whinnied quietly. She was in the middle of what appeared to be an armed camp, surrounded by Security vehicles and personnel.
Next to her stood Mach Front, with a grinning Salrath standing behind him. The Security pony held an injector gun in a field of pale magic and was looking at her with an odd mixture of curiosity and anger. She twisted her head slightly, rolling her eyes upwards when the movement didn't feel quite right, like a weight she'd been carrying all her life had suddenly vanished.
It took her a moment to discover what was missing. Where there should have been a smooth, spiral ridged spike was nothing more than a stump, the end chipped and splintered where it had been crudely hacked off with some sort of power tool. Panic flooded through her, and she gasped. My horn! They've cut off my horn! she thought. What am I going to do now? Even if I can break free, there's nothing I can do for anypony.
There's nothing more I can do.
The last thought should have brought more panic, but instead her breathing slowed back to its resting rate, her wild emotions replaced with a fatalistic calm. She reached for her magic, hunting for the familiar feeling of smooth power, but there was almost nothing. The delicate touch of the sun was still there, a distant candle flame slowly moving across the heavens, but she had nothing to reach out to it with. There were some vague hints and odd feelings, but it was like trying to lift a mountain with a spider's web.
"What have you done with my sister?" she said to Salrath in an even tone, and had a slight feeling of satisfaction when the Agent's expression changed from sadistic glee to one of annoyance.
"How dare you speak to--" Mach said, outrage clear in his voice, then snapped his mouth shut after Salrath glanced sideways at him. "Sorry, Master," he whispered, cringing slightly.
Salrath snorted in disgust, the noise causing the pony to wince, just like he'd been poked with something sharp. She turned back to Fusion, her smile slowing returning. "They say the worst thing is not knowing," she said, reaching into a near-by bag and pulling out a wide metal collar. "Get up, servitor."
Fusion lurched to her hooves, gritting her teeth against the sudden stab of pain from her left wing. She'd received some treatment at least -- the injured wing had been crudely strapped to her midsection -- and she was in nowhere near as much pain as she should have been in. The nameless medic had left her other wing free to move and at least help with balance. She stayed perfectly still while Mach Front locked the collar about her throat, ignoring the stallion and Salrath to stare fixedly at the horizon.
Salrath brought out a small instrument, holding it negligently in one paw. "Just in case the pony should consider running," she said, holding up the device so Fusion could see it. Her thumb came down on the button at the top of the slim cylinder.
Pain roared up through the mare and all her muscles locked solid; if it wasn't for the fact that her legs were slightly splayed, she'd have fallen over again. The agony stopped and Fusion let her head droop between her knees, gasping for breath and moaning quietly. Working her jaw she spat something red-tinged onto the grass. "I'm not going anywhere," she said, voice slightly distorted from where she'd bitten her tongue.
She could see the temptation in Salrath's eyes; it was obvious that the Agent wanted to press the button again. She tried to keep her face blank, but her gaze was drawn to the control unit and she felt her ears flatten when that clawed thumb twitched. The Agent stared back at her, then reluctantly hooked the device to her utility vest. She pointed to an air truck -- marked, unlike the others, with the Eugenics Board's logo -- a little away from the rest. "That way, it is time for the pony's brief study session," she said, then turned to Mach. "The pony is dismissed."
Mach opened his mouth to protest, then closed it with a wince. "Yes, Master," he said, looking worried.
Salrath had already turned back to Fusion, prodding the mare with the button end of the control unit. She jumped into motion, not wanting to experience that terrible pain for even a second. The Agent walked a few paces away on her right side. "The pony knows that what it has done has condemned its kin?" she said, eyes studying Fusion's face for any sign of a reaction.
You don't lose any opportunity, do you? Fusion thought. "Die now or die later; everypony dies at your paws eventually," she said, allowing a hint of anger to colour her words.
Salrath grinned at that. "It is refreshing to finally speak to a servitor without all the cringing. Tell Salrath; what is it like to know that the pony's whole species has been so perfectly enslaved... and will continue to be so for all time?"
"I know something you don't, Agent. There's something out there that hates you and all your kind, and you don't even know it exists," Fusion said. "It will kill you all, if it can."
The Agent laughed. "The pony will need to do better than that to save itself."
"Where do you think all my power comes from? Not from me. I was given it," Fusion said, watching as Salrath's expression faded from happy to thoughtful. Got you with that one, didn't I, she thought. How hungry are you for power and recognition?
"The pony will tell Salrath. Now." The Agent held up the control unit, thumb resting on the button.
"I will not--" Fusion suddenly shrieked as she felt herself catch fire, every nerve fibre crisping in an appalling heat. Her other senses reported similar overloads; foul smells and tastes, blinding lights and a terrible atonal screaming that drowned out even the sound of her own cries. Everything went away and the mare found herself on the ground, fighting the urge to throw up from the memory of the taste in her mouth.
Gasping for breath, she rolled back to her stomach and stared up at the Agent. "Do that as much as you like, you'll get nothing but screams out of me. I have been blessed with pain in the past." Her voice was scratchy and weak, but didn't tremble. "You must recognise this, after what you did to me in the control room."
Several expressions fought for control of Salrath's face; the first was fury, the Agent's lips drawing back from long canine teeth in a silent snarl, then interest. Fusion suppressed a shiver at that -- she could almost read Salrath's thoughts, see that she was wondering if watching the mare writhe would be more satisfying than learning some strange secret. Please don't let her take that as a challenge, she thought, tensing inside at the thought of more pain. Salrath nodded slowly and Fusion relaxed slightly.
"The pony's strength of will is unusual, but Salrath is sure that some of Security's more involved methods will get results."
"I'm certain you are correct," Fusion said, amazed at how calm her voice sounded during what amounted to a casual discussion of her eventual torture. There must be variants of the spell Random taught me that don't rely on the subject being cooperative, she thought. "But that would take it out of Salrath's hoov-- paws, wouldn't it?"
The Agent's face grew crafty. "What does the pony want?"
"Let me talk to my sister for a while, a few hundred seconds, no more. Nobody present except yourself."
"Acceptable," Salrath said, "but this better be good." The Agent pointed toward another airtruck, this one marked with the Institute's colours.
Fusion walked slowly in that direction, limping slightly as each step jarred her broken wing. Salrath was silent by her side, but kept giving the mare little sidelong glances. Probably wondering how I'm going to react when I see Gravity, she thought sourly. At least this means she's still alive.
Rounding the side of the truck, she waited patiently until Salrath flung open the rear cargo doors, acting for all the world like a magician revealing something surprising from a box. Inside, huddled against the far wall and blinking in the sudden light, was Gravity. Fusion studied her sister carefully, she seemed to be physically alright, but had wet marks down the sides of her muzzle. She was wearing one of the suppression collars, the jewelled ring about her horn glittering slightly as her head moved.
"Yes? Is there anything you need me to do?"
"Hello, Gravity, it's me," Fusion said, realising that the other mare would not be able to see any more than a silhouette against the light.
"F-Fusion?" Gravity scrabbled to her hooves and rushed forward, the look of misery on her face changing to shame for an instant before she skidded to a halt at the lip of the cargo compartment. "What happened, the Master said she would help you--" She gasped at seeing Salrath, cringing at the Agent's shark-like grin. "S-sorry, Master, I didn't mean--"
"It doesn't matter, does it, Agent?" Fusion said, turning her head to stare pointedly at Salrath.
The Master stared back, eyes narrowing, then her smile widened slightly. "Of course not. The pony may leave the truck if it wishes," she said in a silky voice.
Gravity looked between Fusion and Salrath, confused by the undertone of the exchange, then stepped carefully to the ground. Seeing her obvious hesitation, Fusion stepped close and rested her head against the dark blue fur on her sister's neck, bringing her working wing forward to embrace the trembling mare. "It's okay," she said, "you did what you had to do. You probably saved everypony a lot of suffering." Tears started to prick at her own eyes.
Gravity backed out of the hug, searching for any sign that her sister was saying this just for her benefit. She hung her head. "You're sure? I didn't know what else to do."
"I had big plans, but I see now that it wouldn't have worked. There was never any way out of this for us. I'm just so sorry I got you involved."
The blue mare, crying openly now, rushed forward and reared up to wrap her forelegs about Fusion's neck. "Everything will be okay, I'm sure of it. Just put your trust in the Masters."
"I do," Fusion said, successfully keeping the bitterness out of her voice.
Salrath cleared her throat, causing both ponies to glance in her direction. She pointedly waggled the control unit at Fusion. The mare sighed and gently shook off her sister. "I've got to go now. Remember; whatever happens, it's not your fault. You had no choice."
Gravity sniffed and nodded dumbly, stepping back, but not climbing into the truck.
"Does Salrath get a hug too?" the Agent said sarcastically.
"You'll get what you need, I'm sure," Fusion said, walking towards the Agent.
"This one had better, otherwise Salrath will be visiting your kin later. The pony will remain still," she said, directing this last order to Gravity, who'd taken a hesitant step forward.
The mare was getting better at reading the Agent's body language. You'll do that no matter what I tell you, won't you? she thought, something hardening inside her. There's only one thing left for me to do. She took a few paces to one side, gesturing for Salrath to follow.
"Do you believe in the Maker, Agent?" Fusion said in a low voice,
Salrath snorted. "Not hardly."
"I did, but that was because it hurt to not believe. When I lost my Blessing I assumed the Maker was just a way to keep us happy with the promise of a reward later--"
"The same has been said among the People about the Maker. Get to the point."
Fusion lowered her voice still further, forcing Salrath to step towards her. "When I was in the accelerator I nearly died, my magic just wasn't strong enough. I was desperate and I reached out to something I'd felt before under similar circumstances... and it answered, showing me new magic. But that's not all, it actually manipulated me, made me do all that damage." She could see by the look on Salrath's face that the Agent didn't believe a word of it, but that didn't matter.
Because she was now close enough.
Fusion's right wing, while battered and missing feathers from her encounter with the gryphon snatch team, still functioned. She flicked it out, driving it at the Agent's head with the full force of the big muscles that encircled her belly. Had it struck home, the bony lump at the end that was the equivalent of a wrist joint would have hit with stunning force, cracking open Salrath's skull like an egg. Unfortunately the Agent's reactions were lightening fast.
Salrath threw up one arm to ward off the blow, reflexively ducking her head below the murderous sweep of white feathers. There was the nasty crack of breaking bone and the collar control unit went flying from her suddenly nerveless fingers. Snarling, the Agent stumbled back, reaching for her firearm with her good paw, only to be knocked off her feet when Fusion jumped forward and shoulder barged her.
"Stop! What are you doing!?"
Fusion heard Gravity's high, panicked shout, but paid it no heed. I can do one last thing for you, sister, she thought, knowing her remaining life was now measured in seconds. There was a loud bang and something whickered past her head far too fast to see. More gunshots, and the painful noises of bullets striking the metal of the airtruck's hull. The sound of something soft being hit, like when a heavy weight was dropped on grass. Fusion threw up her wing, angling it to obscure the view of her head from the other Security staff, while rearing up over the prone Agent. In the same fluid motion she brought her whole weight crashing down onto her front hooves.
Salrath, seeing the mare's hooves leave the ground, gave up trying to draw her pistol and rolled desperately to one side. Disorientated from the fall -- and not quite believing what was happening -- she didn't make it, one hoof catching her on the pelvis. There was an awful breaking sound as bone shattered. The Agent gasped, a startled in drawing of breath that seemed to contain a whole universe of shock and pain, then swiped the claws of her good paw across Fusion's belly. She did little more than scratch the skin, and Fusion crouched and reared again, the pressure of her hoof grinding downwards and causing Salrath to open her jaws wide in a silent scream.
More gunfire and the sound of running paws. At the top of her arc, something struck Fusion high on her back with the force of a hammer, the impact making her grunt. Pain flared, but was ignored, and she brought her hooves back down onto the weakly moving Agent.
This time her aim was perfect.
Fusion caught sight of an instant of terrible realisation in Salrath's eyes, then both of her hooves struck the Agent squarely in the centre of her chest. She had armour; layers of polymer and ceramic able to soak up a kick or punch, stop or deflect a bullet or laser pulse, but nothing in its design would slow half a tonne of pony hell-bent on killing the wearer. Trapped against the ground, the armour buckled and Salrath's ribs snapped. The air woofed out of her lungs and she coughed, spraying bloody foam over Fusion's chest.
The mare tried to rear again, but there were more hammer blows that stitched an uneven line along her back, and all of a sudden her legs failed to work. Collapsing, she landed heavily on Salrath's head and shoulders. Darkness started to congeal around the edges of her vision, the rest of which was suddenly obscured by a pale haze as something grabbed her roughly and lifted her into the air. Her flight was short, and she tumbled to the grass a few lengths from the twitching shape of the Agent.
Something hard and scaly grabbed her around the throat, making her breath whistle slightly. She ignored the hissing gryphon that stood over her, keeping her eye on the medic that had knelt next to Salrath. The look on the Master's face was enough.
"Gottcha," she whispered, as the cold started to fill her chest. With one final effort she rolled her eye to look at Gravity, and a great sadness filled her. Unnoticed by everyone, the blue mare had fallen motionless to the grass, a single bright red mark, like an errant flower, just behind her right eye.
I'm so sorry, she thought, her vision finally fading out as the darkness rolled her over and took her away.
Ninety four point one seconds later, the time it took a photon to travel to Celestia and back, the sun went out.
===
Epilogue I - t+9.94x10^-7 seconds
Chaos felt the information as it rippled past, somewhere inside the orbit of the debris ring. For a moment, no longer than the time it took for the wavefront to travel a dozen lengths, it was delighted -- here was the solution to all of its problems, a way to greatly reduce the biped's numbers without personal risk. Then the ramifications of the event hit home; no Flaw meant a vastly reduced power input to the bubble, meaning its own activities would be greatly curtailed. It would be trapped for all eternity inside this pocket universe, waiting only for the eventual decay of all barionic matter and the final entropic silence of the heat death. It sped after the information as it was passed between the automata towards the flaw, but as Chaos was limited by the same information transfer rates as any other entity on the substrate, all it could do was maintain its trailing position.
Nothing travels faster than the speed of light, so the time at which the information reached the esoteric machinery operating the Flaw passed without incident. As it entered the high energy environment, Chaos started to relax. Everything was as it should be, only the normal small scale fluctuations in the exotic particles coming through from the other side of the event horizon. Chaos cast around for where the information had gone; it had been so certain that...
At that instant it realised its mistake. Fooled by the placid environment, it had mistaken inactivity for waiting, the delays of machinery getting into synchronisation for one concerted action. All around it space was changing, the Flaw machinery acting to smooth out the opening in the event horizon. Panicking, Chaos reached out to interfere with the process, but the machines were too big and spread across too much space; the very speed of light was acting against it. By the time it had conceived a course of action and put it into play, the machines had already changed to something different and immune to that effort.
It tried again and again, pouring so much effort into its actions that it failed to notice the ever present Guardian automata closing in on it from all angles. It was still trying when the first Guardian ripped through it, reducing its mind to a disconnected shoal of anomalous processes. The Guardians that followed quickly erased every remaining trace.
Epilogue II - t+2.12x10^9 seconds
The image on the screen was a low quality still from a video camera some independent reporter had managed to sneak on to one of the 'harvesting' crews. Harsh lighting and a snow-white landscape played havoc with the camera's exposure control. Unfortunately, what it did show was perfectly clear. Shapes, distorted by frost and ice, being loaded into the back of a tracked crawler. Shapes with six limbs, and shapes with only four.
Shapes that would have been bipedal.
Korn eyed the bowl of processed kibble that had made up his -- and every other Person still in the Hive's deep tunnels -- diet for the last two gigaseconds. Logic told him that protein was protein, and with all the problems they had it wasn't a good idea to be squeamish about where that protein had come from. He pushed the bowl away, suddenly not feeling very hungry anymore. On the screen, the news report continued.
"Food riots in refuge nine have entered their second megasecond, despite Security carrying out its threat to cut off power to the area. We have no independent confirmation of conditions within the refuge, as the shield doors have been closed and no private communication is being permitted. Despite the blackout, there are persistent rumours of Security forces committing atrocities--"
"Academician Korn? The servitor is here for you."
Korn blanked the wall screen and closed his eyes in resignation. Korn can't fix the food shortages, but at least he has some control over his own projects. If Guliar does that one more time... he thought. "Thank you," he said, pulling himself slowly out of the chair with the aid of the grab rail on the wall. "Korn hates being old," he muttered, picking up his cane from the side of the desk.
"What was that, Academician?" said Guliar.
"Nothing, nothing," Korn replied, turning and hobbling to the outer room of his suite of offices. Rounding the corner, he gave a genuine smile, falling heavily to one knee to meet the small form bouncing towards him. Korn will pay for that later, but it's worth it, he thought, opening his arms to catch the white filly, still young enough to have more than her fair share of leg.
He wrapped his arms around her neck, wrinkling his muzzle in a futile attempt to dislodge an errant strand of pink mane that threatened to make him sneeze. "And how have you been, my little pony? Have they been treating you well?" he said, staring pointedly at the Security staffer standing in the doorway. A hulking individual, more suited to the front line of a riot squad than his current 'minder' role. That one certainly has no acting ability, he thought, watching the Agent run the links of the collar, just removed from the filly, through his fingers. The expression of disgust was obvious.
Korn closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, breathing in the fresh summer scent of the white filly, trying to recall anything from back when it was possible to go outside without the aid of a pressure suit. The pony wriggled and he let her go, only to have her lean forward again and nuzzle his neck.
"I'm learning lots of new magic, it's great fun, and everyone is very nice to me," she said, but her mouth turned downwards into a frown, "except Guliar, he's too rough and I'm sure he doesn't like me." She turned her head slightly and stuck her tongue out at the Security Agent, whose lips curled back in a silent snarl. At the sight, her ears flattened and she shuffled a little closer to Korn.
Korn placed his paws on either side of the filly's neck. "Is he now? We'll just have to see about that. You go and wait outside, Korn needs to have a quick talk with Guliar -- and no listening at the door!" He gave her a gentle shove to get her moving, watching fondly as she trotted happily to the door, her stubby horn glowing as she pulled the door shut. She is growing up fast, he thought, maybe this one will be the one...
He climbed back to his feet, wincing at the pain in his knees.
"You fool!" he hissed at the startled Agent, raising the cane to prod him sharply in the chest, "Do you know how long it took Korn to convince the Synod to carry out this experiment?"
"That servitor does not have the right attitude--"
"You were ordered to treat that pony like it was your own cub. What part of that was not clear to you?" Korn said acidly, punctuating his words with sharp jabs to the Agent's chest.
"The Academician is even starting to talk like one of them," Guliar said with a sneer.
Where does Security find these idiots? Korn thought. His voice turned cold. "You are dismissed. Return to your station and get them to send someone else. Korn does not want to see you again."
"Korn can't--" the Agent said hotly.
"Yes Korn can, he has complete control over this project. Get out."
The Agent snarled something indistinct, then stomped from the office, slamming the door open as he went. There was a high pitched cry of pain, followed by a yelp of surprise. A pale yellow radiance, the half remembered colour of the noon-day sun, filled the doorway. Korn groaned and hobbled into the corridor outside his office.
There will be hell to pay for this, he thought, as he rounded the corner and saw what he'd been afraid of. Held a little way off the ground in a haze of yellow-white magic was the Agent, unmoving in the telekinetic gip of the little filly. Guliar was unexpectedly silent, which surprised Korn until he saw that the Agent's chest wasn't moving. He was still alive -- little twitches and tremors ran through his frame as his muscles strained. His eyes darted to stare at Korn, pleading with him to do something.
"He kicked me!" the filly said in an outraged tone.
"Did he now?" Korn said thoughtfully. "Could you lower him down a little? Thank you." He stepped forward, placing his muzzle next to the stricken Agent's ear. "The World Court thinks this project is the last hope for the long term survival of our species. With all the billions we've already lost to the cold and dark, do you really think your death will even be noticed?" he whispered.
The Agent's eyes grew increasingly frantic.
Korn nodded slightly. "The first and only thing out of your mouth had better be an apology," he said, turning his back on Guliar and limping to stand next to the white filly. Placing one paw on her head he ran his blunt claws through her mane. "You might want to relax your grip a little, my dear. I think he wants to tell us something."
The golden glow lessened slightly and the Agent inhaled a great lungful of air. "This one is very sorry," he babbled between gasps, "Guliar will never do that again. Please let this one down." The last words seemed to cause him almost physical pain. The filly looked uncertainly at Korn.
"Put him in my office to think about what he did," the Academician said, locking the door after the Agent had been unceremoniously dumped onto one of the chairs. He gently nudged the pony in the direction of the outside viewing chamber. "So, tell me what sorts of magic you've been learning," he said, as he walked with her.
All unpleasantness forgotten, the filly chatted happily about how much she could now lift, the distance from which she could manipulate a magnetic field, and her new trick, the creation of free-floating balls of plasma. This she promptly did, and the eye-searing point of blue-white light that materialised a few body lengths away was hot enough to make him flinch even at this distance. She was instantly contrite at his distress, and her creation vanished with a sharp crack.
By this time they'd reached the viewing platform, and Korn activated the controls to open the shutters and dim the internal lights. The armoured wall pulled back, showing a stark landscape, all low, rounded hills, any features blurred and smoothed by the thick layer of oxy-nitrogen snow. It glowed a faint, pale green, apparently lit from within.
"Is it up?" the filly asked.
"It is," Korn said, "you see the glow? That's fluorescence from the radiation Korn told you about. That's what's coming down from where the sun was."
"I can't feel it. Should I be able to feel it yet?"
"You are still young, give it time."
The filly looked up at Korn with adoring eyes, the light of purpose igniting behind them. "I will. I will restart the sun and save you all," the filly said.
"Korn knows you will, Celestia, he knows you will."
===
This chapter would not have been possible without the assistance and urging of Loaf Lirpa.
If you can't take a joke, you shouldn't have joined.
-Anon.
~~~
Under the terms of the 2nd April 2013 Jocular Armistice, this chapter has been decommissioned. The text will be left up as an example of what would happen if the characters made certain choices, and to show exactly how fragile their position is. It is not the end, merely an end.
It is fully compatible with the rest of the story up to this point.
~~~
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2353733
I should put a blog post up about that, it's a pretty funny story -- the learning for me was that, no matter how universal we think the knowledge of MLP is, actually very few people know about it.
He never found out, even after googling the name and coming here (and reading the comments!) he didn't realise. In the end I cracked and told him. He's a better man than I am; I'd have given me hell, at least for a while. He took it in his stride, just saying 'to each his own', and is still prereading for me.
Also: your wish is my command...
...You evil writer!
I have the sudden feeling that you've spent nearly 20 chapters faking us out.
And I'm perfectly okay with that.
I hurt now. Why you make me hurt?
It's so very hard to take chapters that appear on April 1st seriously. More so when they bring in such massive dynamic shifts. The majority of the world dying, Fusion and Gravity dead, the Flaw removed, and the sun put out... And were left with a filly/clone of Fusion attempting to restart the sun, saving the world, and probably putting everything back the way it was?
*shrug* I mean... this could be the true end, or at least a real chapter, but it's from sufficiently far left field that it feels false. Maybe the author just got bored and didn't want to write in a proper revolution.
You evil writer, you!
The best thing about this is that it could work out this exact fashion.
Did.... did you just write nearly ten thousand words of an elaborate April Fool's Day prank?
2355251
Not keen, huh?
No wiser words were spoken, it is Foolish to take anything posted at the start of April too seriously.
I'll take your 'lazy author' bet; I have the best part of 50K that says you are wrong!
2355638
, although it's far, far worse than than that. I've been planning it for almost a year.
2355659 You are an evil, evil person. You know that, right? Evil.
Regardless of whether or not this is an April Fool's chapter or not, it is a good chapter and I'd be happy if it went either way.
If this is still here in a couple of days, I'll read it. I don't enjoy these kinds of pranks if it is one, and that Joker line at the start seemed a bit, well, out there.
You know I was totally satisfied with this is an (albeit uncomfortable) possibility because Salrath getting hers is a long time coming and I was expecting Celestia to do some sort of massive power surge and heal herself before the twist.
Well played.
Congratulations, of the pranks so far today, this has been the best, and certainly the Most effort I've seen put into one ;)
The only reason I knew how big the time gaps were is because of the calculator on Windows. Sheesh.
Also, insert obligatory declaration of the author being evil.
2355639
A 50K WORD CHAPTER! OF THIS FIC?!
...
MY BODY IS READY!
2357098 What, you can't translate scientific notation in your head!? What are they teaching people in schools today!
2357138 It will be 50K by the time I finish that particular chapter -- but don't get you hopes up about getting it all at once!
2356373 Thank you! It's been in the planning stages for ages, and I'm glad not too many were hurt by it (however, the night is still young...).
2356151 This way I get to kill Salrath twice...
2355978,2355314 Thanks, glad you liked it. It was actually written to be a proper ending, rather than a joke, something I could give as a finished fic to people.
So wait is that the end? Is this nothing more than an AU/Pre-Equestria story with a bad ending?
I'M PISSED!!!
2357414
I could've, but I just hadn't used scientific notation for a while. Besides, it's in seconds. The second one was more confusing.
Wow, a half April Fools joke half alternate ending?
So Awesome!
It is a good ending. It feels a bit anticlimactic, but maybe that was the intention. It was very emotional, kudos for that.
2355659
This. This is why I like you. "By way of an apology" is cunningly crafted metafiction (or metafact, depending on your frame of reference). Keep being awesome.
Oh shit, I wonder if we're about to see a purge of Celestia and Luna's friends and family.
Assuming that's an orbital weapon, it's probably not as much of a problem as they think it is considering that Luna could most likely pull it out of the sky with ease.
Holy crap, I did not see her losing her horn coming.
If I wasn't out in public at the moment, I would have stood up and cheered when Salrath finally got what was coming to her.
Wait, what? *goes to the other story*
2357537
No, it's just a bad ending about what happens if Gravity told Salrath. I knew there was something with the title here.
2357537 Not reading the author's note, are we?
I'd be totally fine with this ending too, if it's the only way that Salrath gets her comeuppance.
Great. You know you've got me all riled up now. It doesn't matter the truth of this chapter, I now have an overwhelming urge to jump in to your story, grab Fusion and Gravity, and yank them out of that scene to place where that can't happen. And it's distressing me that I can't actually do that.
(I know I'm weird, but I have strong reactions to the graphic, brutal deaths of female characters that I really like.)
I took it all as cannon, up until I got to the comments. You devious, awful, magnificent bastard. The fact that you'd plan for this and sink 10k words into utterly dropping the floor out from under your reader base is bloody ballsy and downright hilarious. SO MUCH RAGE AND CONFUSION in the comments.
Loved the small details with Gravity after being re-blessed, especially where you showed the fact by telling of the pain of her doubts. Fusion's force of will is truly indomitable this chapter, and it is glorious to see her never break in her darkest hour. (Even after large amounts of abuse, physical trauma, body horror, amputation, and general squick. She's far tougher than I've given her credit, and I have had a large deal of faith in her the whole time.)
And because it's me, and gear is involved: your shock teams should have magic suppression grenades. If all it takes is a wavelength through a crystal (or energy through one, you weren't super specific) to lock down a pony's magic, why not make something out of a battery, a tuned speaker and one of those crystals? You could choose whether it overloads and destroys the device (acting similarly to a flashbang, with the stun effect included), or sends out constant pulses at fixed intervals (leading to longer-term, but weaker suppression).
And because Salrath is so deliciously, deviously evil, we need to make sure that combat units have a harness that could take a full buck, no? I'd think either a large, thick gelatinous chest plate would dissipate the force amply, though less jell could be used if a metal frame formed the base along with links that would dissipate the force of a blow to the vitals. (Though if you're looking for conventional, why not just use ceramic plates? They'd do more than well enough against all the force a pony could muster.)
Speculations aside, this was a wonderful read. Truly fun to see what the absolute worst could be, though I'm still confused as to where the young version of Fusion came from in the apocalyptic future. Was she cloned or something? (Regardless, it was nice to see that Korn still has a soft spot for her. Though the scene before it was dark, the picture of Korn dropping down on a knee so she could hug him was adorable and provided a very nice emotional contrast to the rest of the chapter.) It kinda has me rooting for Korn to make it out of this alive and on good terms with Fusion, although logic tells me that it's incredibly unlikely to be the case.
Awesome to have an update, even if it was non-canon. (I was going to say a 'joke', but this took far too much time and effort for such a cheap title. This was far darker and far beyond a little jest.)
Very cool chapter even if it is an April fools. Originally I thought only the epilogue parts were the joke but your comment about killing Salrath twice puts that theory to rest.
I'd be very interested to know what would have occurred if Celestia had her connection with the Sun active when the suppression field went up. Would it simply of had no effect on Celestia or overloaded trying to contain the energy output of a star? In the latter case it could have potentially also set off the DeadPaw system which would have extremely unpleasant consequences.
I'm eagerly anticipating more.
You just had to fuck with my mind didn't you?
2357760 It's because it's sudden, I suspect. There's a kind of a contract between writer and reader, certain things that are expected -- one I ripped up.
2358282 Thanks! That means a lot to me; I will endeavor not to disappoint.
2358916 This is the best of both worlds; now I can give her the ending she deserves. Again.
2361392 An interesting question, one which I suspect will be answered in the not too distant future (fic time; I can't guarantee how many chapters it will take).
2361573 Yes, I did. Did Equestria move for you, too?
...
Honestly? I'm actually okay with this. We could even be looking at the origin of the Hearth's Warming Ever story. Who needs spirits of cold and hate when you have diamond dogs?
Of course, the death of Discord, the comments, and the Apology make it clear that this is an Elseworlds scenario. I look forward to Gravity's
rainbowloyalty to her sister and the consequences thereof.*Me, this morning (April 2nd here)*
"Oh yay, a new chapter of my favorite MLP Sci-Fi Fic!"
*read*
>MFW
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That was absolutely terrifying!
Since April Fools is over, my guard was down and everything!
Genius, I didn't connected the abrupt ending to April's fool until today
(read the chapter yesterday), because, as you say in By Way of An Apology, it's an ending that fits well with the story. Hope you manage to make the real ending as good, or better than, this one.
I'd be perfectly happy with this as the ending. I feel that this is significantly less of a downer than some of the British sci-fi that you mentioned in 'By Way of an Apology' (Stephen Baxter is an arse with his 'better off dead' endings). If Celestia can't accept that she's the genetic clone of a Diamond Dog slave pony, well, then she hasn't developed a very robust self-image over her millenia of life, has she?
If this isn't the ending, I hope your final version is as emotionally moving and plot-friendly. Fusion having a dead-pony switch on the sun was just so awesome that I'd be disappointed to see that plot point go.
2360224
Glad you liked it! Gravity's doubt was a late addition; a little twist of the knife.
I've been thinking about antimagic weapons -- to be honest, all you really need is to break the magic-user's concentration. A flash-bang could do that. Magic sensing weapons would also work, but the operator better be sure there are no crystal thaumic devices nearby... True suppression would require contact (the ring/collar), or big expensive kit for long range (a bit like a flying phased array radar unit). Local antimagic fields are used, but they are relatively crude things.
The normal drawback for armour applies; you have to be able to carry it. If Sal had been standing, she'd have escaped with bruises. Real armour (like a powered suit) would have a rigid structure, and thus be immune to such attacks -- and let's face it, if a pony is reduced to mere kicking, things are desperate indeed!
It's implied, but not stated -- filly Celestia is a clone. I'll leave the final number of attempts to your imagination.
2362935
I hadn't thought of that, what an interesting idea. Still plausible, especially if you recall that there is a fragment of Chaos still out there. Who knows what it might grow into...
2364510,2365269
Glad you liked it! You may also have located my secret fear, but at least this way I have a fall-back.
hi hi
Wow... what a ride this has been. I can't say that I was expecting it, but I suppose it does make sense, and maybe its better this way, better that Celestia doesn't have to carry that kind of pain around with her.
There was a clever symmetry to how everyone all went out in the end too. Salrath used Gravity Resonance to defeat Fusion Pulse, and Fusion Pulse used gravity to stomp the life out of Salrath. And of course, that makes Gravity Resonance the real tragedy of the piece, having been given one chance and failing. So often heroic stories are about the right person in the right place at the right time, but it would seem that so many tragic stories involve someone who is exposed to the same sorts of circumstances, but just isn't prepared to cope with the burden.
A heart breaking and often times horrifying story, but Fusion Pulse remained a flicker or goodness right up until the end.
Thanks for the comment, 2369220, I'm glad you enjoyed it (if that's the right word).
However... I have some (hopefully) good news for you!
What you just read was posted on April 1st, and represents one possible ending for the story, one written to the best of my ability to showcase how fragile the character's position is. The side fic By Way of an Apology and my latest blog post go into lots more detail about that, if you want more.
The story will continue.
My fault; I should have marked that particular boobytrap sooner. Let me do that now...
2355659 You are such an awesome author!
you rock! woo hoo!
Sooooo......
If you planned this for a year, then can I assume you are already far into the next real chapter then!
2369450
Oh... Um, nevermind then, I guess. I read By Way of an Apology a while ago, but apparently missed the implication. Sorry about that. :(
2371547
You don't have anything to apologise for -- based on what you knew, your response was perfectly valid, and all the more valuable because you didn't know.
Everything was written to stand up by itself, and I'm pleased that so many took this at face value (you are not alone, believe me!), but I'm sorry for the confusion.
2371320
About 50K words. I've just started writing chapter 28, and I'm showing no signs of slowing down yet. Hmm... that's a seven chapter buffer -- I could take six months off!
Wait, I thought I heard something-- P-Princess? Look, I was joking! No, please, you don't ne~~
## CONNECTION LOST
## DESTINATION HOST DOES NOT EXIST
Incredibly great read I must say. The April fools read was worth if not just for that moment where Fusion saw Gravity lying on ground. It's kind of hearth wrenching just colder. Outrage, outrage and hope.
A question, I found you just recently so I'm not sure of your posting habits. Do you post on weekly basis or wait to be ahead posted plot for certain amount to post new chapter, or someway different?
2367239
Do this more please. It added a great deal of depth to the story, and could have been used as another means of torture by Salrath. (Something along the lines of "you really think you're free?" or "You really think that you're worth something to me?") Even if this wasn't the case, there's implications in this doubt. Personally, it'd eat me alive, but then again I'm not Gravity.
I read you, but what of the clever ponies who actually get smart? As soon as one thinks to build a noise-proof bubble around themselves, the effectiveness of your flashbangs is drastically reduced. Just food for thought, though I do like the areal mounted radar unit idea. Against something like that, ponies would not only be forced from flight, but be basically reduced to horned horses.
Wow. Ok then. I can't imagine the sadness of Korn with each failed attempt. It'd be even worse if they raised one to the appropriate age, and found it could not interface with the sun. It'd be heartbreaking for Korn to have to either disown the failed clone, or have to destroy it only to start again.
With that said, what's stopping them from developing several batches of filly Fusions? The idea makes me a little sick, but surely these are desperate times and will call for the fastest solution possible. It's a pity only Korn seems to see them as 'people' rather than resources.
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C:\Users\Abubble1234 ping 199.187.123.75
Ping request could not find host. Please check the name and try again.
nooooooooooooooo.com/vader.jpg
HE TOOK FIMFIC DOWN WITH HIM!
2374728 Welcome! Thank you for the comment, that's a very flattering thing to hear. Enjoy the rest of the story!
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You went from chapter 8 to 19 in a day? Damn, it's going to hurt having to slow down to the rate I write at!
Welcome, and it made me happy to know how completely I destroyed your day (flattering to be compared to those two fics, too!).
Target is a chapter a month (sorry), but my writing rate has been accelerating, so I'm probably going to shift to every two weeks (trial run).
BTW thanks for that 'watch'!
...hmm.
I just now realized what so much of this story is reminding me of.
Ever read Xenocide by Orson Scott Card? If so, remember the stuff with the word of Path? Yeah, having reread that book recently, that is why so much of the artificial mind control here in Wasp seems so naggingly familiar.
I now return to eagerly awaiting the next chapter.
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. Oh and every 2 weeks would be a bliss. I don't know anyone from memory who actually posts 6/7k chapters that often. Almost no one seems to abide systematic posting. :<
It's addictive what can I say and I've more or less gotten used to it.
You're definitely welcome. Might even have some fanart incoming.
Can't wait for next one, best of luck.
For an April Fool's day chapter, this was a damn good alternate ending. I wish more authors would write alternate endings, like the Silent Ponyville stories did. I loved reading those alternate endings as they trickled in after the story itself ended. Those were so fun!
Just finished a complete reread; worth every minute.
Not much to say, really. This is now probably one of my favorite science fiction stories, and I read an awful lot of SF. A vote, though; I suggest keeping the text of Apologies out of the main body. It is definitely an aside, and fits best as a separate work (or maybe an appendix).