//------------------------------// // G7.01: Opening Volley // Story: Message in a Bottle // by Starscribe //------------------------------// The “Database” proved to be extremely like the Temple of the Infinite Self in a few respects. They appeared somewhere apparently isolated, with no one else around. In this case, they were in the middle of a huge, vaguely Arabian-looking city, with desert sands in the distance and a constant wind blowing. They stepped off the pad into a library made of cream-colored stone, with books and scrolls and ancient wisdom piled higher than she could see. Fortunately, Olivia could fly, though their route apparently didn’t require any. “Where is everyone?” Olivia asked, as they made their way to a terminal tucked away in one of the recesses of the library. “The sort of pony who visits places like these very often doesn’t stay at this level for too long,” Pear Butter said, sounding wistful. “That’s the part you didn’t seem to care about, though.” “There must be tons of ponies in this… universe? I don’t know where we are… but there’s got to be tons, right? They must be somewhere.” “They are.” Pear Butter gestured to one side. “They’re upstream. Most of the population went that way. I don’t know how many of them didn’t climb all the way to Harmony… we could ask.” “No, that’s okay.” Olivia slowed to a stop as they reached something like a keyboard. This seemed like it could’ve fit just fine into any Earth library—screens surrounded the place where the user and maybe a friend or two would be standing, giving them plenty of space to fill with the data that interested them. “Harmony is upstream, right? He’s the enemy, so we want downstream.” “We’re already downstream,” Pear Butter said. “Ponies living outside on Equus are the bottom. We’re right above that.” She stepped up onto the plate, and immediately the little symbols lit up. That glow spread to the screens, a uniform white. They were silent otherwise, just like the city outside. Spooky. Olivia wondered just how many ancient places like this were out there, amazing places she would’ve loved to visit back on Earth with some buddies, now empty and gathering dust. Just where are we, anyway? Maybe inside the ring? Is the slope just the curve of the ring? That seemed like the kind of question Martin and Karl would’ve puzzled over, but she didn’t really care. It was self-evident that she was still alive, somehow. Everything else was secondary. “I think I’m getting it.” Olivia looked down at the screen. “Upstream takes you towards Harmony. That’s up the slope, so…  if I go that way, he’ll find me and kill me.” “No.” Just a hint of annoyance crept into the earth pony’s voice. “It would be slow for you to go that way. Since you aren’t rediscovering yourself, you have to grow for real. I don’t know how long that takes.” She sat back, looking thoughtful. “I wonder how long it’s been.” “Forget about that for now.” Olivia sat down on her haunches behind her. “I’m looking for a diplomat named Karl Nolan. She was a pegasus about… a few years older than me, same exact colors.” “Another weird name,” Pear Butter muttered, though her tone was more curious than anything. “What was her cutie mark?” “None,” Olivia answered, without thinking. “I was the second one of my group to get one, after Lucky. I don’t know if anyone else got one once I left.” The earth pony stopped typing. The images of thousands of ponies flashed by on the screens, each one with little notes and their cutie mark superimposed behind them. It eventually settled on a pony that looked exactly like Karl. Like Karl, but with a little birdbath for a cutie mark. “Whew, that’s lucky,” Pear Butter said. “A cutie mark really narrows it down, normally. Otherwise they’ll just be assigned one of their old ones…” She trailed off. “Wait a minute. I know her. Are you sure this is the pony you’re looking  for? Because, she’s not exactly the friendliest pony around. Bit of a conspiracy theorist.” “Sounds exactly like her.” Olivia pointed at the screen. “Does it tell you where she is? Let’s go see her! Get the team back together. As much as we can.” She could only hope nobody else would be joining them in here, considering what that would mean. Maybe with one of her scientists back somebody could point her in the right direction. Karl seemed like the sort who could work out something productive to do in here. “Guess anything could be happening if Discord is involved.” Pear Butter pressed another button, and a little slip of paper emerged from the keyboard as though it had been printed. She tossed it to Olivia. “That’s her address. Do you want to check the database for anything else while we’re here? Switch you to your old body, you said?” “Oh, right.” Ordinarily, finding Karl would’ve been such a high priority that it suppressed anything else. But the temptation of being human again was an alluring one. “Wait. You didn’t even know what a human was.” She frowned, pawing at the ground as she thought. “Maybe… I won’t actually switch yet. That would be the end of stealth.” “Stealth, yeah.” The earth pony laughed. “You really do sound like a filly. Who are we hiding from, Olivia?” Olivia raised her eyebrows. “Uh… Harmony, obviously. You’re fighting him too. Shouldn’t we try to hide what we’re up to?” Pear actually laughed. “Hide from…” She shook her head, unable to suppress her amusement for several long seconds. “No, Olivia. We can’t hide from Harmony. Harmony runs the system. The pull keeping your hooves on the ground, the wind in your mane, the light you see. Harmony made those. One of its… subsystems? We’d have to go upstream for me to explain it very well. And once a pony does that… they’re not likely to turn back. So it would be better if you just believed me. We oppose what Harmony is doing, and we believe in what Discord wants. We disagree, that’s all. It doesn’t mean we’re fighting it. It means we think there’s another solution. We want to prove to Harmony our solution is better. We don’t have to be unfriendly about it.” “Don’t have to…” Olivia trailed off. “Right.” She wanted to point out just how stupid that sounded, how childish. You ponies probably would’ve won a long time ago if you didn’t restrict your tactics to what is ‘friendly.’ Do you honestly think Harmony is doing the same? “Well, maybe I’ll want to hide from his agents, then. Does Harmony have agents in the… downstream?” “The princesses,” Pear Butter answered. “And the ponies working for them. Lots of ponies keep working for them even after coming back here. Lots of times learning the truth again makes ponies change their mind about Harmony, but not always.” “Well, I won’t switch right now. I would still like the information.” She nodded towards the keyboard again. “I hope you can teach me how all this stuff works eventually.” “Eventually,” Pear Butter agreed. “Somepony will. Probably not me, I’m mostly just in as far as the introductions. But my husband probably could. Just smile at him and sound like you’re in distress. That should be enough.” Olivia laughed. That would be the day. “Give me that description again,” Pear Butter said. “What did you say you looked like? Besides… who you are now, I mean.” “Two legs, two arms. Skin all over, hair mostly on the head and not much anywhere else. Not as many colors, basically just take a peach and range that until black, with a few minor variations in the middle. No cutie marks, except the ones we make ourselves with tattoos. No wings, no horns, no hooves. Feet instead.” She went on like that for a little while, watching the vague silhouettes on Pear Butter’s screens gradually resolve and gain detail. They weren’t changing them so much as eliminating the ones that didn’t fit, and eventually displays filled with them were whittled down to just one. “Like this?” Pear Butter asked, gesturing at the screen. “This is… the only match available, and it’s not a possible state for you this far downstream. Says it’s… three complexity intervals… that won’t mean anything to you.” Olivia stared at the shape, one that was not entirely new to her. She’d seen a creature like this for a few seconds when Pear Butter used the Temple. It looked like what a human might’ve become after many, many years of evolution. Delicate skin around the face and neck, which went periodically transparent to display colorful, shifting membranes underneath, like an octopus or a chameleon. No fingernails, larger eyes, a larger skull, generally more delicate build with thinner bones. Even so, the eyes staring up at them from the display looked strikingly human. Just the wrong size. “Also, they do have cutie marks. But it looks like they’re… only visible in… I don’t know what these words mean.” She played with a few keys, and the screen seemed to wash out, with only the transparent parts of the creature glowing their brilliant colors, shifting though complex patterns so quickly Olivia just knew it must be some kind of communication. “You sure that’s it? Something like that, but… more your color and less… pale and transparent?” “Nothing,” Pear repeated. “Well, nothing ‘available’.” She squinted at the screen, which Olivia still couldn’t read. How can I understand what she’s saying, but not read her language when it’s written? “Database says there’s more information in the historica, but that’s restricted one complexity level. Even one level might be a long trip… probably shouldn’t. We might not be able to get back in time for Discord’s plan.” She sighed, stepping off the metal plate, and looking distant. “I won’t risk not being here for the rest of my family, if it goes badly.” “Thank you for helping me as much as you have,” Olivia said. “I don’t know how often you do this for… ponies… but I don’t know how I would handle it if I’d just been dumped into the city. I might’ve…” She shook her head. “I want to be useful to my friends who are still alive. I think you can understand that.” “Ah reckon I can,” Pear said, seeming to relax after all the strange images they had seen. “Let’s see about finding that friend of yours. See how she’s been getting on since she died.” Lucky Break stumbled into the airship lounge a few hours later, and was a little surprised to find the Equestrian princess already there. It seemed the rest had helped her tremendously—she no longer looked seconds from collapse. There was a hardness about her that hadn’t been there before. I’m sorry I have to expose you to this. If only Olivia had remained captured a few more days. Then they could’ve busted her out, put her onto the airship… surely she wouldn’t have tried to rewrite a plan already in motion, would she? Then again, would Twilight have joined our side if she hadn’t watched Celestia murder you? The princess wasn’t alone. She sat with Deadlight and Perez of all ponies, with Forerunner leaning casually against the wall nearby. Spike was on the other side of the room, playing an energetic game of ping-pong against Mogyla. He seemed to be winning. Lucky wandered across the room, passing a handful of plain white plastic chairs, along with a simple food preparation area. There was little elegance in the way this room had been made—everything on the Speed of Thought had either been fabricated as quickly as possible, or been stolen from the Sojourner. It looked from the meal packets everypony was eating that the food was the latter. “That was it? The dragons realized they could’ve taken Equestria, but Ember stopped them? If they wanted to invade so badly, why didn’t they just ignore her? Or kill her and take the title for someone else?” As Lucky listened, she realized that Perez was still speaking English, and Twilight Sparkle was using Eoch. How can they understand each other? Twilight shrugged. “Dragons are like griffons in that way—they have rules, and they follow them strictly. Ember was Dragon Lord, so if she didn’t want an invasion, there wouldn’t be an invasion. So long as we stay on good terms with her, Equestria should be safe. She’ll probably outlive it.” “Brilliant.” Perez set down a dark bottle between them. Twilight Sparkle lifted it in her magic, taking a long pull herself. Judging by the acrid stench on the air, Lucky guessed they had found some of Olivia’s private reserve. “It amazes me they didn’t just eat you. If they’d recognized how vulnerable you were…” “We weren’t a threat,” Twilight answered, setting down the bottle. “I had read everything in Equestria about dragon behavior. Attacking us in front of the others would have been a sign they saw us as dangerous—that would have made them seem weak to the others. Only a dragon who was already in a poor position would’ve dared—I took the chance we could take on a weaker dragon if we had to.” “Damn.” Perez finally seemed to notice Lucky standing there. “Ah, our fearless leader has returned. I was just having a word with the princess about her old battles. I thought you would’ve brought some weak-ass puta to weigh down the ship. But no… apparently these ponies lead from the front. No sitting back and letting the little guys die for them.” Those words hit Twilight with particular weight, and she immediately lifted the bottle again, looking away from Perez. How much alcohol can an Alicorn drink? She didn’t ask. “I tried to warn him,” Deadlight said, his voice slightly smug. “Twilight’s reputation speaks for itself. We couldn’t have better odds.” Twilight Sparkle set the bottle down, sighing. It fell to one side with a hollow thunk. “I thought about inviting my friends. But considering I’m working against Equestria… I don’t want them to end up in the dungeon too.” “We’ll only get in trouble if we’re wrong,” Deadlight said, nudging her with one of his bat wings. “The other Alicorns won’t be mad if we actually succeed, will they? Freeing us from Harmony… that’s the kind of thing they make windows about!” “Great,” Twilight said, her voice distant. “They can put it up in my jail cell. Or maybe in magic kindergarten, once Celestia takes my horn away.” “I don’t think that makes sense…” Lucky muttered, though she didn’t leave Twilight enough time to make much of a response. “Only an hour to Transit. I thought you might have some questions before we got down there.” “One.” Twilight straightened. Despite the empty bottle in front of her and the stink on her breath, she didn’t look addled much. Then again, neither did Perez with his enhanced body. “We ride from Transit to Harmony Control. Then what? What do we do once we get there?” “I…” The room fell silent. Aside from the ball bouncing back and forth on the other side, anyway. I can’t show weakness. I know what I’m talking about! She had to make them think she did, anyway. “We have to find the shutdown,” Lucky said. “Harmony has a threat-detection system… the one that restricted Equestria until now, the one that made Harmony attack other nations. We find it, and we’ll probably need an Alicorn’s authority to flip the switch. If Discord was here, he could probably explain it better. He’s the one who understands everything.” “Discord,” Twilight repeated, her frown deepening. “Is he the one who convinced you of everything? Who… gave you this airship, and…” “No.” It wasn’t Lucky who answered, but Deadlight. “They built it all themselves. And Lucky learned herself when she went into the ruins. I don’t think anypony would trust Discord about something so important, even after being ‘reformed.’ Did that really happen, Princess?” “More than once.” She sounded distant again. “Fluttershy deserves more credit than anyone. If she hadn’t been friends with him…” She sighed, slumping forward onto the table in front of her. “If he was helping you before, I don’t think we can count on him anymore. After… your thing with my niece… he’s been locked up in Canterlot Castle.” “Hopefully we can rescue him too,” Lucky muttered. Though it was hard to be around Twilight for very long without feeling her black mood rub off on her. She needed to get away—keep enough of her optimism to lead the mission ahead. It’s so simple—ride the tram, flip a switch, then bust Flurry Heart free on our way out. Most of the guards should be on the surface, so we shouldn’t even do much fighting. It’ll be over before Celestia even knows what we’re doing. Forerunner had remained out of the way and quiet as long as Lucky had been there to watch—but now he tensed, rising from a reclining position as though he expected intruders to burst into the room in moments. “Attention!” he called, voice echoing not just from the one body, but the walls and ceilings as well. He seemed to be addressing Lucky directly as he spoke. “Attention, this vessel is under attack. Proceed to your evac positions. This is not a drill.” As he said it, the lights all around them switched from bright white to an even, diffuse red, making everything look like blood. Then the ship started shaking. The first thing Melody heard was pain. Until now, she hadn’t known that pain had a sound. As it happened, that sound was a grinding, slicing against the inside of her ears, a drum to the beating of her heartbeat. She moaned, and that sound hurt too. But the rest of her seemed to be in better shape—she twitched, sitting up. Her eyes opened normally, and she was unsurprised to see that she had been moved to medical. Half a dozen medical drones swarmed near her. Most were naked except for their tools, but the one nearest to her was wearing a lab coat over its plastic shoulders. They didn’t have mouths that opened and closed with their words, but she did see this one move a little, and heard something distant. Like listening through a pair of blown-out speakers. She pointed up at her ears with one hoof. “C-can’t… can’t really…” The drone nodded, extending a hand to accept a display from one of the others. It turned the screen around to face her in one claw, and text appeared against a white background. “An explosion burst your eardrums. You have been unconscious while I performed surgical replacement. It may be some time before your healing is complete, however. I will administer an analgesic.” Melody felt a strange coolness wash over her head—one she expected was rooted rather directly in painkillers administered to her. Modern painkillers could be taken in sufficient doses without impacting cognitive function, so she didn’t lose her mind. “Where is… Martin…” she asked, not hearing her voice so much as feeling it. It didn’t feel right—the slight shaking of her head wasn’t anywhere close to enough to structure her words correctly. She probably sounded stupid. I’ve been sounding stupid since I woke up on Sanctuary. “Dead,” came the word on the tablet screen. “Or destructively transported. I cannot entirely rule out the latter given the state of the old armory. But the former seems more likely. There was sufficient debris to analyze.” Sufficient debris… of a person who had exploded mere meters away from Melody. A few minutes later, Melody finished vomiting, and finally crawled her way back to a sitting position. She had been stripped, though these days that mostly meant a gauntlet and maybe a satchel with her computation surface. Melody hadn’t worn clothes indoors since Deadlight suggested she should stop. “God… that’s horrible…” she finally croaked, her throat raw. She could still feel some level of discomfort from her head—something in her brain still realized she should be in pain. But the longer she had to adjust, the more of her hearing seemed to return. Her own heartbeat thumping through her ears was still the loudest thing, but it had been joined by her own breathing, and the sound of the drone’s servos. “What the fuck happened?” “Magic,” Forerunner said. “As best I can determine. The blast seemed to originate from inside Martin’s body. Internal scans taken just before the… event… suggest its origin can be traced to a minor subregion of the brain not present in any of the other species I understand. I do not mean to alarm you, but your brain possesses this organ, along with every other member of the crew.” “Holy shit.” She slumped forward onto the cot. “You’re telling me that every member of the crew has a bomb in their brain, and you didn’t know?” “It appears that way.” The drone in the doctor’s coat appeared to be speaking in time with the words appearing on the tablet, because Melody imagined she could start to hear as it spoke. “I cannot determine how. The tissue in that region of your brain is not inconsistent with the tissue of the rest of your body. There are no dissolved volatiles or energy-storage medium of any kind. The force required to produce the detonation we observed could not possibly have been stored within Martin’s body. My working theory is that the unique region of the brain was somehow the target of the attack, rather than the creator of it.” “You assume…” Melody moaned faintly. “That means you don’t know.” “Affirmative. I detected no radio transmissions, or unusual emission of any kind. But given what happened to the armory, it seems plausible that something similar could have happened to Dr. Faraday. It may be helpful for you to hope that she has been transported, rather than destroyed.” “I don’t think either of those is better, Forerunner. Either one of my friends is dead, or one of my friends is being interrogated and will probably reveal the location of Othar.” “That is correct,” Forerunner said. “I have already evacuated every other member of the crew onto the Cyclops, including those Olivia rescued from slavery.” “That won’t help if they can just explode our brains.” Though something else about what the Forerunner had just said lingered. Had she been left behind? Probably for surgery, then. The drones onboard the Cyclops wouldn’t have been capable of replacing a pair of burst eardrums, assuming that was what it had been. But what good will hearing do me if I’m dead? “Well… no,” Forerunner admitted. “But it appears that action was directly connected with Martin’s attempt to extract knowledge from within the recorded memories Lucky retrieved. It is reasonable for us to assume, if a more general attack was possible, that you and every other crew member would be dead as well. Given that neither you nor any member of the away party have been targeted, even though they are under active assault by Equestrian forces, this assumption seems likely.” “Oh.” Melody glanced down at the IV running into her arm. “Guess you should get this out so I can… go and join Lei on the Cyclops.” The Forerunner didn’t say anything for a long time. It didn’t move to help her remove the IV. “That will not be necessary, Melody. You will not be evacuated—your assignment is too important to suspend regardless of the danger. I am sorry this places your segment at risk, but you did consent to risk when you joined the Pioneering Society. Given my choices of useful segments were you and Lei, it was logical to choose the one with a redundant skillset. Not only that, but Lei has an identifier mark, and you do not.” Redundant skillset. It wasn’t just the universe passively informing Melody that she was useless. Now the Forerunner would call her that to her face. Wonderful. Perez probably would’ve complained about the machine takeover about now, but Melody was more practical. She had been created for a purpose, and that purpose was to serve this mission. Everything else she had done, even… the intimate parts, had been perks of the job. “What task is that?” Melody asked, shaking her head once. As though she could somehow dislodge whatever was building up in there. Fluid, maybe? The gesture didn’t work regardless, and sounds were still muffled to her. At least I can hear them. “I have translated portions of the message that was burned into the ground prior to Dr. Faraday’s… transport,” Forerunner said, the screen it held blanking and filling with an image of intricate, interlocking symbols. Melody couldn’t read that language—as far as she understood, Lucky was the only one who could. “I can’t read it,” she said though the Forerunner must have known that. “It says what I interpret to be a permissions error. It could not reconcile the identity of Dr. Faraday with the memories contained in the recording. From this I must presume that our method of accessing them was not the expected one, or else the intended recipient would likely have suffered the same fate. Regardless, we have good reason to believe you would not.” “Why?” Melody had to resist the urge to turn around and run right from the room, ripping out her IV and trying to escape. The Pioneering Society did require all sorts of exams to prove she was mentally capable of handling risk. What it did not require its humans to do was undertake suicide missions. Yes, they were replaceable, expendable. But they were also people, and such requests could not reasonably be expected to be followed by any but the insane. “I will not cooperate if you expect me to kill myself for you, Forerunner. Maybe I would have a few months ago. I won’t anymore.” Forerunner did not seem the least bit moved by what she said, one way or the other. “I have made certain deductions… there is insufficient time to explain how. But based on information obtained from Lucky Break, Deadlight, and my own observations of Equestria, I believe that the Sanctuary system uses cutie marks as identifiers. They are not immutable, but they are intimately personal, and apparently impossible to imitate. However, young ponies do not yet possess cutie marks, and instead have them assigned in the course of puberty.” It was so hard for Melody to concentrate on anything the Forerunner was telling her. He might as well be aiming a gun at her head while he spoke. But she tried to listen anyway. “There is more to it than that. A pony body’s biological maturity is directly linked with these marks. It is impossible for an adult member of any of the pony species to exist without them. Regulatory mechanisms prevent adult development as long as necessary. This is why Lucky Break emerged at her apparent age—my earlier self gave her more than enough time to reach the same age as you or any other member of the crew, but she did not mature.” “I don’t see what this has to do with me,” Melody said. “Can’t this… can’t this experiment wait? Didn’t you say the away team was under attack?” “They are,” the Forerunner said. “But my attention is divisible and my axes of action in their conflict are limited. This conversation is not much of a distraction.” “Well…” She struggled, reaching for something else that might delay what the Forerunner wanted. An experiment that might just explode her head. “I’m an adult, and I don’t have my cutie mark. So something in your theory must be flawed.” “After prolonged genomic evaluation, I discovered a suppressing protein—the same one that is produced once a pony receives their mark. This protein is what allows ponies to age.” Melody gaped. Even with her fear, the weight of that last sentence had been enough that it nearly baffled her. “Excuse me… what? Did you just… imply…” “Yes,” Forerunner said. “Pony species do not naturally age. Or… to be more precise, damage to their bodies does not become cumulative over time. I confirmed this with Dr. Born’s help, using observations of tissue samples obtained from the natives, and in my own experiments. This trait is not possessed by the animal specimens we obtained, or the plants. I am unsure if it applies to the non-pony sapient races on Sanctuary. Nevertheless, it appears that every pony citizen possesses latent biological immortality.” Forerunner paused, as though to let the weight of its statement fall on her. If this was a distraction from their experiment, as it sounded, it was working. Biological immortality was nothing unknown to her from theory—much research had already been invested in that angle before she left Earth, though at the time life extension had been more focused on lengthening the lifespan of the elderly. It was not impossible that another species would’ve cracked that puzzle. The real surprise was... “Why the fuck would they design themselves to get old and die? I know there are pony elderly, they suffer similar degradation to humans, to all other species we know about.”There was something else this explained, if she could only figure out how to connect it. The pony royalty were supposed to be immortal. “I am uncertain,” the Forerunner answered. “It seems to suggest the fundamental purpose of life on Sanctuary is not what we expect from organics, who rationally desire a maximally prolonged life. That part is not relevant to you.” “Yes it is,” she said, annoyed. “You could… if you found a way to replicate the aging protein, then you can probably suppress it too, couldn’t you? Develop an injection for ponies, so they stop aging…” “Oh, certainly.” The Forerunner sounded annoyed. “And for some, an injection is unnecessary. You, for example, do not have a cutie mark and so remain effectively the same age you were when you were decanted. But that is not the subject of interest for us.” He tapped the screen again with one plastic finger. “I believe Sanctuary targeted Dr. Faraday because she had an identifier. This is why I could not use Lei—she has an identifier as well. You, however, do not. At worst, I predict the system will assign you an identifier. At best… your unregistered status may allow us to circumvent some security.” “At worst, my fucking brain explodes,” Melody grunted. “What’s so important about the memories on that, anyway?” The doors to medical opened, and several drones rolled in. They were pushing strange equipment, with lots of metal and fans on the top. “Lucky had information suggesting the natives she saw were also enemies to Harmony. It is possible that observing their failure will indicate to us how we might succeed.” “I…” “Consider it this way, Melody. Lucky Break discovered the corpse of an Alicorn in those ruins. The society she came from, or at least she herself, had close knowledge of the function of the Sanctuary ring. This knowledge did not prevent their destruction. We have less information than they had. If we want a better outcome, we must learn what they knew.” The drones stopped around Melody’s cot. The equipment they pushed still had plastic wrap clinging to it in places. The rest probably got exploded. “I have enough information to suggest a greater than majority chance of your survival,” Forerunner said. “I have the authority, therefore, to compel you to take this course of action. I do not believe we are likely to extract the information without your cooperation. I would prefer your willing assistance.” The Forerunner’s way of telling her she couldn’t fight her way out of this. He had all the authority he wanted to lock her legs in irons and force her. You’ve been useless since you were created. All you did was save one native, then fuck him. What good did that do anyone? There was instinct, too, buried deeper. Instinct to survive, whatever it took. To protect what she had created, if she could. “If I do this…” Melody began. “If I assist willingly, if I do everything I can to get the valuable information out of those memories—I want a guarantee from you that my mission is complete. I’ll be a free citizen after that, like Lucky. A guarantee you will protect me, and my child. If we survive.” Forerunner remained silent a moment, apparently considering. “On behalf of the Pioneering Society, your request is granted.” She rolled onto her belly on the cot. “Then… let’s get this over with.” The drones set to work. Lucky Break felt completely frozen. Her limbs tried to move, but she felt so weak all of the sudden, so helpless. Was this really how her mission would end? The ponies would fire on their ship, even knowing they had a princess aboard? Don’t you care about anyone, Celestia? What if she’s my prisoner? You don’t know she turned traitor! Perez’s was the first voice to cut through the chaos. “Abubakar, Williams, anti-air positions! Mogyla, with me. We’ll escort the civilians to evac.” Salutes, and the two indicated ponies hurried away. “The rest of you, come with me. We were prepared for an attack. Hopefully we can all make room in the jumper.” Spike hurried over to join them, remaining within reach of Twilight without ever actually touching her. They shared a meaningful glance, before Twilight cleared her throat. “Under attack by… what, exactly?” “Last time it was a plasma weapon,” Lucky said. “We had less than a minute warning. Half gone already… there’s no chance we’ll get to evac in time. Maybe Twilight could teleport us.” “It is not the same weapon,” Forerunner said, before Twilight could answer. “It is a pony military formation. Half a dozen airships, several similar in class to the Speed of Thought. By my count, at least two thousand pegasi. They appear to have come—” “It’s the Crystal Empire Defence Force,” Twilight said, before Forerunner could finish. “I was afraid this might happen. We keep an eye on every airship that passes through Equestria. There were only a few in Ponyville… I guess they found the one I must’ve taken.” “Did any of you hear me?” Perez called, his voice breaking through the murmur of activity. “I said we’re getting the fuck out of here! We can command from the evac ship.” “That sounds like a good idea,” Lucky admitted. “Everypony, follow Perez.” She repeated the instruction in Eoch for the benefit of their guests, still not sure exactly what Twilight and Spike could understand, and what they couldn’t. They hurried down the hallways, with Twilight and Lucky bringing up the rear. “How do we get them to stop chasing us?” Lucky asked. Twilight shrugged. “Your airship is called the Speed of Thought. Even our fastest clippers shouldn’t be able to keep up with it.” “The name is more hopeful than literal,” Forerunner said from ahead of them. “I constructed this vessel in less than three days, using bits and pieces of another airship. I focused most of my energy on defending from an attack from the unknown plasma weapon.” They entered one of the parts of the ship Lucky hadn’t seen before—a hangar, as it happened, hidden inside what would’ve held the lifting gas if this had been a real zeppelin. There was apparently no gas in here, or at least none she could see. There were a few all-terrain vehicles, with tools or weapons mounted to their tops, along with the single functional jumper. They all crammed themselves inside, including Forerunner. The jumper had already been packed with supply crates, so there weren’t enough seats for everyone. Means we won’t be able to make this escape at speed. But it shouldn’t take much to outfly a pegasus. “Do you think these ponies are aware of the location of Transit, Princess Twilight?” Forerunner asked. “I want to know if evading them is a useful endeavor.” “Depends.” Twilight and her dragon had both been given seats, though neither of them were using them. “Celestia knows, and she didn’t seem to want to share that with other ponies. I had to discover it for myself. But she must know where you’re going. If we do evade her, she’ll send the Defence Force in after us. Unless I fly out there and tell them to stop.” “Would they obey you over Celestia?” Perez was opening one of the plastic crates, moving deftly. Inside was an exoskeleton, folded neatly for transport. He kicked the empty crate out the doors into the hangar, freeing up a little space as he struggled into the suit. Mogyla was doing the same, though it took him well over twice as long. Clearly he hadn’t practiced this, while Perez had. “What if she ordered them not to take any prisoners?” “That doesn’t—” Twilight jerked to a halt, eyes widening. Probably she’d been about to explain how the princess would never do something like that. She looked sidelong towards Lucky, then her ears flattened. “The guard will probably… not be very happy about an order like that,” she said instead. “If I gave them a new order, I’m sure they’d be happier obeying it instead.” “Funny chain of command,” Mogyla said, still struggling to get the uneven lumps of the exoskeleton from its case. But he didn’t sound questioning, only amused. “We can’t send you back,” Lucky said. “Even if you could convince them to leave us alone, we need you. The systems of Transit Equus Zero Violet Zero need an Alicorn to operate. Without you, we can’t use them to get to Canterlot. We can’t shut Harmony down.” Princess Twilight looked hopeless. “I wish Rainbow Dash were here. This is the kind of thing she would know how to deal with. The guard love her.” Lightning Dust tensed in her seat across the jumper—the only one wearing her restraints. It didn’t seem that Twilight or Spike noticed. They didn’t notice the way her paint had started to fade, either. “The vessels are gaining on us,” Forerunner said, his voice betraying just a hint of frustration. “Abubakar and Williams could likely neutralize all seven of their ships, but this would inflict heavy casualties. I have not permitted them to fire yet.” “What the fuck are you waiting for?” Perez shouted, spinning around to glare at him. “Do it! Give them a reason to turn around!” Twilight’s eyes widened. “M-my… my brother is one of the generals in the Defence Force, Forerunner. He might be aboard one of those ships.” Lucky stepped between Twilight and Perez before he could say anything stupid. “Forerunner, what if we could damage one of their ships? Could you hurt them enough to bring them down without killing anyone?” There was a moment’s pause. “I can make no guarantees, Lucky. But we could create an airburst above the airships. The resulting implosion would likely burst the gasbag. But zeppelins are more durable than many assume—a leak could take hours to sink the ship.” He raised a hand before she could order. “At this range, I can’t be sure there aren’t ponies escorting the airships from above. Any who were close to the detonation would likely suffer serious injury.” Lucky could read in his eyes he meant more than that—but hadn’t said so, thanks to their guests. She turned to the Alicorn. “Princess Twilight—you know we don’t want to hurt anypony. But if we have an army following us, we won’t be able to stop them.” Twilight Sparkle looked away. “Last night, I ordered ponies to their deaths. I thought I was doing it for… for the right reasons. It seems like we are too.” “They’re firing on us!” Forerunner shouted, before a distant roar sounded from outside. Cannons, like ancient naval guns. Apparently the ponies knew what they were doing, because the second shot made the whole ship start to shake. “One hit, six misses,” Forerunner said. “No serious damage yet.” Another series of blasts, this time less precisely timed. Again the whole thing started to shake. “You have to do something!” Perez shouted, his voice loud enough to sound over the explosions. “Forerunner wants to save us, Colonial Governor! Are you going to let your bleeding heart cost the lives of everyone on Sanctuary?” That was enough. “Do it, Forerunner. Bring down those ships. Try to hurt as few ponies as you can.”