A sudden crackle shook Shetland from her sleep. Dozily, she looked around, trying to orient herself. Below her hung Crimson, already fighting with the restraints which kept him tied to his sleeping bag. Both their heads turned as the unmistakable voice of Captain Void Waver sounded throughout their room.
“I want everypony at their posts!” her voice announced. “Diesel on the engine, I want three unicorns on the spell matrix, we need a full stop within five-hundred seconds. Nopony else leave their spot!”
Shetland, Press and Crimson shared a confused look as they each struggled to free themselves from their sleeping bags. Ciloa had left them last night, having been assigned to a different room.
“It's not time yet, right?” Crimson asked.
“Can't be,” Press decided. “We're not scheduled to arrive until afternoon.”
Right then, Crimson and Press shuddered, both trying to hold onto a wall.
“What's up?” Shetland asked, worriedly observing them. Press grew green in the face.
“They just… urgh- canceled the spell.” he choked. Crimson floated over a plastic bag, seemingly less affected by the magical something.
“But you were fine when we started.” Shetland said, floating closer.
“The spell was cast gradually, then.” Crimson explained. He had already regained his usual facial colors. He threw a compassionate look at Press, who emptied his stomach into the bag. Shetland looked away, vividly remembering the feeling of weightless retching. From outside the door, the speakers brought a new message from the captain.
“Warning: everypony seek a safe grip. Stopping time at 340 seconds. I repeat, everypony seek a safe grip. Stopping time at 335 seconds.”
Hurriedly, they each grabbed onto a bar going along the wall, clutching it tightly with their front- and in Crimson and Press's case, all four hooves. The slowdown made this precaution seem unnecessary though, as it was closer to the halting of a carriage than what they'd expected from a spaceship. It went on for a while however, and Shetland felt her hooves growing tired when it finally stopped. In the sudden silence, the captain spoke again, her voice calmer.
“Everypony, I know you are surprised by our sudden halt. We have received a signal from an unidentified ship along our route. But while we don't know the ship, the signal is clearly an S.O.S. I will not ignore the plight of fellow star travelers and I'm sure you will share that sentiment.” A short pause followed, in which she cleared her throat. “We will try to connect to the ship using the tube on the hatch at our port. The maneuver is risky, but I see it as our duty to help however we can.”
Her voice cut off, yet it appeared much closer, right above Shetland's head. Tiny slits in the wall, which Shetland had assumed were for air filtration, apparently were speakers instead.
“Passengers: We will have to appear as friendly as we can. Therefore, I want the changeling back in the cargo, making space for our shipwrecked.”
So she was broadcasting to all passengers, Shetland realized as Press threw the speakers an angry glare.
“The rest of you will join her, except for the Sparkle-girl, I want you at the hatch, now. Captain, over.”
Press gave her a pat on the back. “Good luck, whatever she needs you for.” He said.
“Good luck moving that stuff. Looked pretty big.” Shetland returned his pat with a thump on his shoulder.
“It's not that hard if it doesn't weigh anything.” Crimson smiled. “I bet we could even move you if we combined our magic.”
“Oh, not you, too.” Shetland chuckled as she opened the door into the busy corridor.
Arriving before the stern-looking pegasus, Shetland saluted, though this time avoiding any sudden movements and thus staying in place. “Captain.”
“Sparkle.” The pegasus responded, turning away to bark orders through a microphone in her hat. “Go through a third check if you have to, Wander, we don't take risks with spacesuits, no matter the situation.” Turning back to Shetland, her voice became calmer, although losing none of its authority. “Your mother has conducted diplomacy for centuries now, yes? I trust growing up around her had you learn many different tongues?”
“Yes, Ma'am.” Shetland nodded. “I speak-”
“Then I'll keep you around in case you can speak with them.” Waver interrupted her. “Keep yourself out of the way for now.” With that, she turned away, ignoring Shetland as she focused all of her attention on the operation. Shetland tried to listen in, but Waver spoke so quickly and the crew made so much noise that she couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Instead, she pressed herself into the nearest wall and made herself as small as possible. It took twenty minutes of hasty activity until Shetland could tell things were coming to an end. The captain called for a check of the tube, invisible behind the hatch, and called the ship-doctor as well as a bunch of crew members whose task Shetland couldn't identify to greet the unfortunate stranded. Shetland pulled herself out of her corner as Waver frowned.
“I've told them they can evacuate now. Unfortunately, I could only speak with their ship's A.I. and it was dumb as shit.” she turned to a trio of unicorns. “We have to be prepared for there to be no survivors if they suffered an atmospheric leak. Prepare to prevent our air being sucked out if necessary. Wander!” She turned to an orange pegasus, wearing a spacesuit. “You will explore the ship if that is the case.”
“Yes, Ma'am.” Came from both, with a salute. Just then, a bleep came from Waver's hat and her eyes turned upwards.
“The A.I. confirms. Connection is stable,” She held up her hoof and several crew members grabbed the various locks and levers keeping the hatch shut. “Opening in 3...2...1... “
The unicorns in the room braced themselves, their horns flaring in preparation for pressure compensation should they open to a vacuum. Instead, the hatch slid down and a small round object flew through the tube. Shetland narrowed her eyes, it looked familiar…
“SEND YOUR CREW IN FIRST, MORON!” Waver shouted into the long, lightless tube. “WE'RE LUCKY IF WE CAN EVEN FIT ALL OF YOU-”
“GRENADE!” Shetland screamed, her eyes widening in horror as she recognized the object and frantically turned away. Screams stopped. A deafening roar blasted over her. Thousand burning daggers pierced her flesh. Thrown about, wind was knocked from her lungs, her ears deafened, the rapid tumbling obscuring her sight. Before she could regain control, something solid and cold smashed into her, propelling them away. Something snapped in front of her face. She instinctively tried to push it away, but claws sunk into her side. Shetland felt its teeth scrape over her pounding heart. Desperately fighting, the machine smashed into a wall with their combined weight. Shetland screamed as its claws were ripped from her flesh. Catching herself, she finally got a look at the attacker. It was a machine, like a skeletal wolf with deadly metal teeth. A pole had wedged itself into its ribcage, pinning the jawbot. Summoning her strength, Shetland jumped and smashed her shoulder into it, fully impaling it on the pole.
Right then, Shetland finally registered the shooting from behind her. It seemed more machines, most of which looked like skeletal ponies, were exchanging fire, but the ponies were in a losing position, Shetland realized as her blood froze. Most not even fighting anymore, they were trying to escape, Diesel in the front, sometimes shooting behind their back. However, the jawbots were giving chase. A pony fell, her flank bitten clean off.
Shetlands lip quivered as she turned to run. That could have been her, she realized, pushing herself on. Her friends were in the cargo! They had weapons! She launched herself forward, the sound of gunfire and mechanic growls pushing her onwards. She only barely managed to catch herself in the junction towards the cargo.
Press's eyes widened, his magic grip clutching a rifle. Shetland launched herself towards him, but changing directions had slowed her down too much. Only a moment later, a bot smashed into her back, hurling both of them right where Press was floating a second ago. She could feel its cold teeth sink into her back, then...
Nothing.
Shetlands eyes ripped open. Pain. Hot, piercing agony shot from her backside through her whole body, clawing its way out her throat in an ear-bursting scream. It drowned out any other noise as others rushed to her. Only when Press pressed his rifle's barrel against the jawbots head and pulled the trigger did she stop. Gasping for air, Shetland set to scream again, her voice breaking as her throat felt like bursting. Attempts to calm her were futile, her world was pure agony and the shouts of her friends couldn't reach her.
Suddenly, from her foreleg, sweet release. She felt something on her chest. Press had been holding her down! He let out a relieved sigh as they pulled away, letting Ciloa float into view. Her magic discarded an empty syringe. Her voice was shaking as her eyes wandered over her body. “D-do you feel okay?”
“I… feel better.” Shetland croaked hoarsely, trying to shift her weight. A gasp escaped her sore throat as her backside felt like an awful sunburn. “What…”
Ciloa's lip quivered. She looked fragile, like a glass figure. “Shetty… you were… your leg...” She swallowed.
“What about it?” Shetland rasped. “I need to see!”
“Shetland…”
“I NEED TO SEE!”
Ciloa took a step back, throwing Shetland a fearful look. Without saying a word, her magic enveloped the earth pony, lifting her in a position where she could easily look down her own body at…
Shetland would have screamed again if her voice didn’t give out.
Her right hind leg was scorched! The skin itself was burnt off, only remaining as blackened shreds around the red and pink… meat. It was like she was looking at a highly branched river of lava. There was not a single hair left on the limb, or the other legs inner thigh. And her cutie mark… it was gone, the meat not even red, but a lifeless white. Shetland swallowed, a sick feeling rising from her guts. Even though she felt nothing, thanks to whatever wondrous drug Ciloa had found, she could still smell the stench of burnt flesh. Ciloa seemed to feel the same way, her jaw was shivering.
“H-how did this happen?” she stammered, unable to draw her eyes away.
“It must have… I think…” Shetland stumbled over her words, trying to recall. It had all happened so fast, her memory was a mess of panic and… “Grenade.” she whispered.
“A GRENADE?” Ciloa gasped. “Are they crazy? They could have blown everything into deep space, including themselves!”
“That just makes it scarier to face them.” Press's amazingly clam voice said as he came closer, a pitying look on his face as he examined Shetlands leg. “Especially with just two of us…” He mumbled.
“I can fight, too.” Ciloa said grimly, although her voice was shaking.
“You haven't ever shot a gun before!” Press exclaimed.
“Then show me!”
“You need practice to shoot!” He shouted. “Especially here, where the recoil will throw you off your hooves every single time!”
Ciloa wanted to answer, but he cut her off. “NO! NO ARGUMENTS!” All false calmness dropped away as he angrily gazed at her. She recoiled, lowering her eyes.
“What happened while I was out?” Shetland asked. Her mouth was dry, what she wouldn't give for a glass of water.
“That was only a couple seconds.” Press explained. “You hit a big crate with your head, thank Celestia your skull is as thick as a bunker.” he seemed like he wanted to chuckle, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He turned to a large gate, where Crimson was sitting, his eyes wide open as he pressed his forehead against it. Press spoke again, his voice husky, empty. “We locked the cargo. Nothing could get in. Nothing… and no pony.” A shiver broke out across his body. “T-they were hammering against the gate, but only for a few seconds. The only ones who managed to get inside were you… and Diesel.” He closed his eyes. “She's somewhere behind us, of course. Poor thing. She saw everything.”
“And… what now?” Shetland asked.
Press let out a long sigh. “If only we knew…”
“We need to go out.” Crimson said loudly. He'd raised his head and pierced Press with an angry glare. “We have weapons, we shouldn't have locked ourselves in!”
“We're outnumbered. And we have no idea how badly!” Press said.
“Well, so what! They're standard warbots, right? Shetty, they were just the standard stuff, right?”
Shetland lowered her head to the ground. “I didn't see much…”
“Did you hear machine guns? Shotguns, more explosives?”
“Crimson, she was running for her life!” Ciloa interfered. “Distinguishing weapons by sound was probably the least of her worries! Why does it even matter?”
“Standard warbots have two variants.” Press explained quietly. “After the contract of Hiroshimare, to make sure we can always beat them. There's the doggie.” he glanced at the remains of the bot he’d shot, which was floating in the back of the cargo. “Mean if it gets close. Pretty sure that one was full standard. Then there's the trash. Has a pistol in a hoof.”
“Both of them are weak, so they can support us real soldiers at best. That means we can beat them!” Crimson said forcefully, but Press shook his head.
“They'll be waiting for us just outside. Weak or not, there's gonna be a massive group out there, waiting for us to poke our heads out!”
“And whose fault is that?” Crimson glared.
“That's not helping.” Press shot a piercing glare back. The other unicorn quickly faltered. But then his ears peaked up.
“Standard bots. STANDARD BOTS!” he exclaimed.
“What about them?” Shetland croaked.
“They're not robots, they're drones!”
“So wha- aat?” Press mumbled. “Drones… they need a control center.”
“Somewhere on their ship.” Crimson said with a grin. “If we get that, it takes them all out in one hit.” His grin quickly faltered.
“But we'd still need to get through most of them first.” Press concluded. “If we had a way to take them all out in one blow-”
“What if we blow them up?” Ciloa suggested. She pointed at the crates. “Did you look in them? I think we're supplying a mining business, I can't think of another reason for this much dynamite.”
“How much?” Shetland asked.
“At least seven crates.”
“Ha!” Shetland laughed, even though it hurt her throat. She assumed, she couldn't feel a thing. “I could blow the whole ship up with that.”
“I don't like this…” Press mumbled. “We could easily blow a hole in the ship and then we're finished, drones or no drones.”
“T-that's an idea!” A meek voice came from behind them, where Diesel stepped out of the labyrinth of crates. “N-not with explosives though. You said they would all line up right before the gate?” She asked Press, who nodded.
“It just makes sense. They can keep us in here until we try a reckless sortie or they find a way to get in.”
“Then I think we can take them all out.” Diesel said boldly. Having captured the attention of everyone, she pointed at a set to switches next to the gate. “The controls, they can open and close the cargo… on both sides.”
“You mean…” Ciloa looked at the far side of the room. “But there's just-”
“Space!” Diesel nodded. “Your marine armor has a setting, I believe, magnetic hooves. We find enough of them, stick ourselves to a wall and open both gates and suck these bastards out into the void!”
The others shared impressed, although cautious looks. “But if we suck out the air, how would we breathe?” Crimson asked.
“If we get it right, we'll have just enough to fly to Horizon.” Diesel said with certainty. "We just have to close it off again as soon as they are sucked out.”
“And then we charge through and take out their control station- instant win!” Press finished excitedly. He looked at everypony in the room. “I think we've found our plan.
I had not expected to use it so soon, Shetland thought ten minutes later as she placed the helmet on her head and listened to the clicking as her armor sealed itself airtight. She hissed as it pressed down on her flank, causing Ciloa to throw her a worried look.
“It's okay.” Shetland pressed through her teeth. “I'll get a doctor after we've won.”
Ciloa bit her lip, but looked away as she put on her own helmet, her face vanishing behind an opaque visor.
They huddled on the walls, placing all four hooves on the metal, Shetland and Press around one lever at the right side of the gate, the others on the left. “Uh…” Shetland said, uncertain how to use her armor’s features. “Magnet hooves?” She let out a shout as a sudden pull forced her against the wall, forcing weight onto her burnt leg.
“It must hurt like a real bitch if you can feel it even with the drugs.” Press said worriedly.
Shetland nodded. She was already starting to feel claustrophobic in her armor. Her breath was unnaturally loud and her drumming heart shook her to the core. Even though she couldn't see her friends' faces, she knew they were just as anxious.
Press reached upwards. “Give it one second, then open the space door!” he called to the other group. Everyone nodded. “For Equestria.” Press muttered and pulled the lever. A grinding sound came from the walls as the gate slid open. Shetland couldn't see around the corner, but a barrage of clanking metal filled her ears. Yet it was all tuned out as the second door opened. A mighty roar, bigger than any dragon, came from it. Shetland felt it starting to pick up. A few skeletal drones stepped into the cargo, pointing their guns, but were knocked away by a water tank they'd used for cover. Shetland pressed herself to the wall as the roaring wind tugged at her. The drones were now realizing what happened and reached for any hold, but it was too late. Whole groups flew past them. Some of them tried to shoot, but their shots went wild. Shetland's strength was draining.
“Ciloa! YOU NEED TO CLOSE THE GATE!” she bellowed against the wind, but her words were swept away. She turned her head and the blood froze in her veins. Ciloa was staring at the lever, panic in her eyes. It was encased in both her and Crimson's magic auras, but it wouldn't budge. The magic was visibly straining her. In a desperate move, she pulled a hoof from the wall, reached up and pushed the lever upwards.
“YES!” Shetland screamed, but then everything froze.
Ciloa's triumphant shout ceased. Her head turned in horror as her other forehoof came off the wall, then she was sucked off, helplessly flying towards the opening.
“NOOO!” Shetland and Press screamed, but both of their screams were overpowered by Crimson's, who reached out to the flying changeling, grabbing her hoof, but the ferocious pull ripped him too away as they were both towed into the great hollow between the stars. With a loud rumble, the gate shut behind them.
“NONONONOOOO, CILOA!” Press was first off the wall, charging at the lever across. Shetland, who had stared at where her friend had just disappeared was too late to react, but Diesel jumped in his way.
“WE HAVE TO GET THEM BACK IN!” Press screamed, throwing the pegasus off, but was cut short as Shetland pulled him away.
“T-They're gone, Press.” Shetland stammered, unable to believe the words herself.
“She can't be.” Press said, his voice breaking from unbearable anguish. “We can still save them.”
But Shetland shook her head. “There's nothing we can do. All we can do is push onwards.” Tears pooled in her eyes, obscuring her vision.
Press let out a scream as he pulled himself along the ground with his magic. His breathing was unstable, as he pushed out in a shaky, vulnerable voice. “Let go of me, Shetland. Y-you’re right. It's their fault!,” He screamed a shout full of fury and loss. “I WILL MAKE THEM PAY!” With that, he kicked the larger mare off, grabbed a gun in his magic and charged into the ship. Startled, Shetland drew her own weapons and pulled herself after him, only once stopping to make sure Diesel was following. She could hear Press scream, followed by rapid fire. The devastated remains of a doggie showed the victor of the fight. Already, she could hear more combat sounds, and she cursed her leg which prevented her from going faster. Suddenly, behind her she heard a scream. Whirling around, she saw a drone shooting at the screaming Diesel. Her shout came from surprise rather than pain, her magic shielding absorbing the worst of the bots' attacks. The shield already cracked, however, and the scared mare seemed unable to shoot back.
Shetland's rifle made short work of its head. Pulling the shivering mare up, she once again lunged after her friend, who had left behind a trail of smoldering machinery. But there was more than that. Shetland had to shut her eyes and push away the floating bits of pony more than once, ponies she'd barely seen the faces of and would never get to learn the names of- it made her sick.
A scream came from the tube. One that sent a cold shower of fear down Shetland’s back. One of not anger, but pain. Followed by gunshot. “NO!” Shetland screamed, doubling her efforts. She barged into the devastated room. A gunbot was standing over Press's body as he fought against a doggie. Shetland could hear a shot and a gurgling noise from Press and her world became red. Forgetting all about her weapon, she charged into the gun-wielding drone, slamming it into a wall. Her armored hoof came down, denting the metal. Sparks flew out from the drone's face and its shots went wild. Shetland drew her shotgun and turned it into scrap. A second shot boomed from behind her. Press had turned his gun against the doggie, but now his magic failed,the gun slowly floating away from him. His hooves grasped his helmet, trying to force it off.
“No…” Shetland whispered, floating closer to Press, unwilling to believe her eyes. Little bubbles of blood escaped from a small hole at the side of his throat.
“Fuckers…” Press forced out, his voice weak and shaky. “Didn't see the doggie, jumped me as the other emptied his gun… ruptured my shields.”
“Hold on!” Shetland shouted, her voice quivering. “W-we can help you, we can get you to the sick bay, we can-” She fell silent, touching her helmet. Press has just slapped her cheek.
“Nothing… you can do for me,” Press said, finally managing to pull his helmet off. His face was pale. “Save yourselves.” He whispered. “I'll be with…” But his air ran out and he closed his eyes, his lips twisting into a pained, but nonetheless content smile.
Shetland took a step back. She swallowed, but it did little to help the dryness in her throat. “Come on,” She said shakily to Diesel, but mostly to herself. “We need to go on.”
She turned towards the tube and without looking back at her former friend, she moved on. The enemy's ship was notably smaller, and tighter, she couldn't stand fully upright. Against her fears, she only found a single drone, which she finished off with a quick blast from her shotgun. It seemed the attackers had not expected their prey to ever make it to their ship. All the better, Shetland thought. But where is the crew? The ship was deserted.
“They're coming after us!” Diesel shouted and indeed, Shetland saw the first bot emerging from the tube. The A.I. must have been panicking. She fell it with her rifle, then turned and pulled herself towards what she presumed was the cockpit. The poles and grips on this ship were annoyingly small. As she turned around a corner, she popped a few shots back into the hallway. “DIESEL!” she screamed. “DEACTIVATE THE DATA CORE!”
“W-what?” The pegasus stammered.
“THE GLOWING CUBE!”
“I-I can't find it!”
A curse on her lips, Shetland looked around the room, full of glowing doodads. “Damnit, damnit.” she cursed, hearing the drones get closer, then her eyes fell on it. The size of a pineapple, it was behind a metallic ring covered in buttons: a green, glowing cube. Shetland reached through the ring, grabbing the core. It could be a trap, she realized, but there was no time anymore as she yanked out the wires.
Silence.
She looked around the corner. All the bots were floating, motionless, as if their batteries had been removed. Even as she stepped closer and shot one of them, no reaction. “Ha…” she said, pressing her hooves on her helmet. It was over. She'd won.
Finally, the tears burst from her eyes as she broke down.