Light Gloom paced through the bridge, thinking. Its shape had been reconfigured once again, creating a long pointed room whose sides created a roughly triangular shape that was subtly scalene. One the widest side, though, several of his comrades stood around three individuals who were decidedly not allied with his cause: the ponies Heliotrope and Golden Star, as well as the remnus Journey End. None of them were bound- -such was not necessary in a civilized society- -but there was no doubt in anypony’s mind that they were indeed being held captive.
At length, Light Gloom stopped in front of them and sighed. Then he spoke calmly to them, making sure they understood him perfectly.
“In ancient times,” he stated, “do you what the punishment for your crimes would have been?”
“Go bite your own horn,” growled Heliotrope.
Light Gloom ignored her outburst, and the fact that what she had suggested was impossible, although not for the reason she likely thought. “Your horns would have been sawn off, and then your wings plucked feather by feather until you were completely nude. We would then dye you blue and solemnly march you through the streets of Dusk while the crowds bowed their head in silent shame at your humiliation.”
“Saw…off our horns?” said Golden Star, his voice wavering slightly. Heliotrope shot him an aggressive glance, but Light Gloom smiled, even if he was anything but happy.
Light Gloom approached Golden Star. The stallion was shorter than him, and looked so very pitiful. “Does that frighten you?” he tapped the tip of Golden Star’s horn, causing the stallion to look up at him in horror. “Do you think it would actually hurt? Don’t be a fool. The amount of horn marrow you have is trivial. There’s no innervation. None at all. You wouldn’t feel a thing.” Light Gloom tapped his tip repeatedly, using each tiny blow to punctuate his point. “You wouldn’t. Feel. A. Thing.”
“Please refrain from touching him without his permission,” said Journey End, calmly.
Light Gloom directed his attention to her. “And you. A remnus. I was going to have you refitted for the Cult. It is you who I am most ashamed of. We only have your best interests in mind.”
“My colors have not been changed yet. I doubt they will be. I neither agree with your politics nor your methods.”
Light Gloom stared at her for a moment, and then seemed to accept her decision. He stepped back. “I can hardly punish you anyway,” he said. “Nor the rest of you, not in the traditional way. The loss of your horns would be meaningless at this point in your evolution, but walking on Dusk’s surface would crush you. The gravity is one third of Equestria’s, and your legs would shatter with one step.” He paused again, considering. “Of course, I suppose you could just be pawns. It is your captain that I would like to punish. Of course, it is a bit too late for that.”
“What did you do to her?” demanded Heliotrope.
“I did nothing,” said Light Gloom. “She destroyed herself to commit heresy. She is aboard my ship right now. As furious as I am with her, I am not ungenerous. And I have actually developed some respect for her. As such, I have elected to give her one of our best bodies.” He looked in the direction of the N689. “Why, she’s probably being transplanted as we speak.”
“And Inky Nebula?” asked Golden Star.
Light Gloom did not answer. He watched as Heliotrope’s defiance suddenly faltered, and as Golden Star’s eyes grew wide.
“N…no,” said the captive stallion, “She didn’t- -she can’t- -”
“Golden,” said Heliotrope. That was all she could say; she did not know what else to.
“Her role was indeed heroic,” said Light Gloom. “No doubt songs would be sung of her, if ponies could still sing. And if I was not going to personally see that any record of her is erased from history. Not that history has much time left in it these days.”
“Wh…why?” said Golden Star. He was crying. For a modern alicorn, doing so was rare indeed. “What did she do to you?”
“To me? Nothing. I don’t terribly care what happens to me. I’m not in this for personal glory or profit. I am here to serve Twilight Sparkle. That is my only desire. And your friend- -and you, actually- -stood in the way of her Will.”
“You tried to vaporize the Motherworld!” cried Heliotrope, struggling forward but then crying out as the technomagic surrounded her forced her back. “With Twilight still on it! You’re INSANE!”
“Ponies seem to say that quite often,” said Light Gloom. “I cannot fathom why. I am not being unreasonable.” He looked over his shoulder at one of the other cultists. “Luminescence? Have I been unreasonable at any point?”
“My independent analysis of your logic has shown that it is sound,” said Luminescence. “Although Phosphorescence disagrees.”
Light Gloom turned to the other identical cultist. “You disagree with my logical progression?”
“Indeed,” said Phosphorescence. “Your actions are tinged with sentimentality. If we had jettisoned the captives initially, this would not have been a problem. I also disagree with keeping them here now. Only the remnus is valuable to us. The others are evolutionary failures.”
“Noted,” said Light Gloom. “But do not confuse civility for sentimentality. We act for the good of the Empire, not for ourselves. And, in addition, these ponies may yet come to our side. In time.”
“We would never,” spat Heliotrope.
“Only because your perception is limited,” said Light Gloom. “But at this point it has to be. When the mission is complete , this will all make sense.”
“Unfortunately,” said Journey End, a thin smile crossing her face, “your weapon can only fire once. My assessment has indicated that your vessel no longer has power. Neither does ours.”
Heliotrope sneered. “I suppose that plan of yours isn’t ever going to come to fruition at all, is it?”
Light Gloom paused. “No. It will.”
In an instant, he shifted the morphiplasm of the ship. The triangular room tore open on one end, revealing a direct view of the planet below. The atmosphere instantly dissipated, leaving the room in a complete and airless vacuum.
This, of course, gave Light Gloom a chance to witness a perfect representation of the infuriating paradox of pony evolution. Golden Star and Heliotrope were unprotected, exposed directly to the air. When the air had departed, they had both been subject to explosive decompression. Now they stood on the floor, directly exposed to the frigid void of space. These ponies were unable to use magic or to fly, but also to do the most basic tasks. They could not run, or walk across a planet with any sort of gravity. If their food was not sterilized before being eaten, they would become horribly ill. Had the ship been facing the sun, the intense light would have badly burned their eyes and skin.
Yet, here they stood, alive and well as products of generations upon generations of spacefaring ponies. Explosive decompression was nearly harmless to them. As if by instinct, they had exhaled, venting the one lung that each of them possessed; at the same time, their large eyes had snapped shut. They could have survived like this for the better part of a quarter hour and receive no injury whatsoever. As infuriating as this paradox was, Light Gloom could at least take comfort in the fact that while not in pain the captives were extremely uncomfortable.
Light Gloom turned away from them, disconnecting himself from the ship’s systems as he did.
“Luminescence, Phosphorescence,” he said, addressing the pair of twins through the internal communication system that they all shared rather than by speaking. “I will leave you to direct the vessel here. My only request is that you keep the prisoners close this time.”
“And you?” asked Luminescence.
Light Gloom released the gravity field that his suit produced and floated out of the ship, joining the assembled fleet of Cultists, their shuttles, and the heavy mechs that they were preparing to deploy. As he did, a pair of dark metal wings extended from beneath his cloak, a pair identical to those worn by the comrades that surrounded him.
“I will lead the recovery on the planet directly.” �L?g�6