//------------------------------// // G7.01: Love the Truth // Story: Message in a Bottle // by Starscribe //------------------------------// “How’re you feeling, sweetheart?” Lucky heard Lightning Dust’s words behind her, and she half-turned, though she didn’t look up. They were supposed to be so much more prepared than this. But what choice did they have? Equestria and Othar’s futures both hovered here, unresolved. What they did with Harmony in the next few hours would decide the future for both races. We must not fail. Lucky was sitting on the empty edge of the railway platform, sitting almost like a human might, with her hind legs dangling off the edge. Lightning Dust and other natives couldn’t manage poses like that, but she was enhanced. She could do things other ponies couldn’t. Like save the world. “Like we’re about to get fucked,” she whispered, voice bitter. The others in the away team were all behind her, dealing with the upcoming mission however they could. She could hear Abubakar praying, Mogyla and Perez and Spike playing some game with gestures. Deadlight and Forerunner were seemingly absorbed in conversation. Lightning Dust sat down beside her. She felt the familiar weight of her mother’s wing wrapped around her and didn’t pull away. Even though she felt like she should. She was the Colonial Governor now—she ought to act respectable. “I don’t think so,” Dust said. “Why not?” Lucky was still whispering. If the mission leader didn’t have confidence in their success, she knew it would affect morale. Even Perez and Mogyla would be weighed down with that. I really hope they don’t find out about Olivia. That was exactly the kind of stress their mission didn’t need. But even Spike had managed to keep his mouth shut. “Most of our weapons exploded. We’re landing right below Canterlot Castle—if either princess is around, we’re bucked. You saw how powerful they were.” Lightning Dust shrugged. “That isn’t the most important thing, squirt.” She looked up, searching the adult mare’s face for any sign of mockery. But she could only find optimism. “What’s more important than that?” Lightning Dust rose, straightening into something like a military pose. It was actually a pre-flight stance; one Lucky had learned for the Junior Wonderbolts. “They’re stronger, there’s more of them… but we’re right.” Lucky looked back at the tracks. “Why would that matter?” “Because that’s how it works!” Lightning Dust said, loud enough that some of the others turned to stare. “We’re bound to win. The last few years, I doubted… but now it all makes sense. Everything bad that ever happened to me happened because there was a bad princess ruling things. We’re going to end that. Bring justice back to Equestria. It was only a matter of time.” Lucky nodded weakly. She had no intention of replacing Celestia—nor did she think it would be necessary. Once Harmony was removed as a threat, that ought to be the end of that conflict. But Lightning Dust wasn’t the only one who seemed to consider that an important priority. Deadlight and Perez seemed to agree that would happen as well, though theirs was more of an understanding than actual conversation. “I hope you’re right,” Lucky said. “I never really had… when I was growing up, I didn’t really have much reason to think that justice would win out. Ideals like that are for the people in power. The ones who slip through the cracks… we just have to be lucky with what we can get.” “No.” Lightning Dust lifted her face with a wing. “We don’t have to be happy with what we get. We can change it. We don’t have to do what fate tells us. What Harmony wants. We can choose.” That’s what you did for me. But she didn’t say that. Lucky just reached up to embrace her, one last time before the end. “Thanks for sticking with me through all this.” Lightning Dust returned the embrace. “I knew you were right, squirt. I always did.” She didn’t break away for a long time. Not until Forerunner called from the other end of the platform. “It’s time to call the transport, Lucky. Based on projected transit time, this is our best chance to arrive in the middle of the third watch.” The middle of the night. They were hoping to avoid Celestia and her Royal Guard, even if it meant dealing with a more skilled caste of Lunar Guards. Perez and Mogyla were confident they were the equal of whatever might be waiting on the other side. Lucky finally rose, wiping away a few tears from her face. “I, uh… apologize.” She made her way to the control panel, conscious of many eyes watching her. She couldn’t read their expressions—or maybe she just didn’t care what they thought. Except Forerunner. He was the only one who followed her over to the control panel, looking as resolved as any of the organics here. She still hadn’t gotten used to how tall he was. “Do you think we’re doing the right thing?” she asked, voice still a whisper. Though with the others waiting here, she knew most of them would be able to hear anyway. “Right is subjective,” Forerunner answered. “I believe this choice is necessary.” “Not optimal,” Lucky muttered, as she scrolled through the interface, searching the many available destinations for their target. “I have found the more intelligent I become, the less I understand what choice is optimal. There are many possible paths, and prediction of organic behavior is always hazy. Dealing with an unknown alien species… with powers we cannot fully quantify, and motivations we don’t know… I understand why you have chosen this.” Lucky navigated to the “car call” though she didn’t press the button yet. “If the rest of you had to pick an optimal choice, what would it be? Not going for broke right now?” Forerunner stopped for a long time, looking contemplative. Lucky guessed he was communicating with the rest of himself, using the slow mesh of drones scattered throughout the base. Eventually he answered. “I would conceal us here as long as it takes to build an escape craft. Then I would return to Othar and wait for generation six to be finished fabricating.” “Months,” Lucky hissed back. “You would take the risk of giving our enemy months to plan for us? What about Spike? What about Twilight?” For once, Forerunner didn’t seem like it was being considerate for those listening. Yet Lucky didn’t feel like she was being effectively persuaded, either. “A serious risk, I agree. We might need to remain underground a long time. Perhaps there would be a way to safely return Spike to Equestrian society without attracting attention. In either case, neither Twilight nor Spike is aware of Othar’s location. At worst, we would lose the advantage we gained earlier.” He paused, giving her a meaningful look. Lucky knew what he meant—Olivia’s death. Most of these ponies didn’t know about that, though. “At best, Spike and Twilight would succeed at keeping the secret. We could try this same mission in a year’s time with a better chance of success.” Lucky shivered as she considered that possibility. Another year of Flurry Heart captive to Celestia. Perhaps Twilight was now being given the same treatment, and they didn’t even know. “Why didn’t you try to persuade me to do this before?” “Because…” Forerunner hesitated again. Not for as long this time. “Because I didn’t think I would succeed. Organics like you are forced to live in constant struggle against your own mortality. You are always moving, always changing… rarely as patient as you should be.” Lucky pressed the button to summon the tram. There was a flash, and a distant rumble from down the tracks. Their car was on its way. No turning back now. “If we fail, generation six can try again,” Lucky said. “You know enough to puzzle out Eglathrin eventually. You have that password Melody extracted. I’m sure there are plenty of experts you can use.” Forerunner shrugged. “I do not want ‘experts’ to succeed, Governor Lucky. I want you to succeed. You are mission leader now. This crew is my family. Humans, ponies, dragon… united in this cause. Perhaps we are all being manipulated. But if that is the case, at least we go to our deaths knowing we were tricked into something right.” Lucky felt herself smiling, just a little. “I just asked if it was right,” she muttered. “You told me it was subjective.” “It is. I am a subject. The Pioneering Society was created to expand, Lucky. To grow, to fill all of space with civilization. We are the eyes of the universe, we are its hands. We survived the death of our homeworld. We survived terrible calamities, we survived threats so vast they could not be comprehended.” He pointed with one hand, right up at the ceiling. “The universe is out there. It belongs to us now. And Equestria too, if they want some. If we wish to take it, we must first free ourselves from this prison. I believe if any of the Society’s founders still lived, they would approve of this decision. But they’re gone, so the decision is mine. I approve.” “Hear, hear!” Perez called, stomping his hooves. “Guess Skynet doesn’t have to be wrong about everything.” There were a few muttered voices of agreement from the other humans. If Deadlight or Lightning Dust had understood any of it, they didn’t comment. The far side of the chamber opened, and the half-spacecraft, half-monorail slid to a stop. Its doors opened for them, interior brightly lit. Lucky walked away from the Forerunner, standing in front of the doors. “Listen carefully, everypony. As soon as we’re in, you need to sit down immediately. This thing is like a jumper—if you don’t put on the restraints, it will kill you. Everyone get in your seats as quick as possible and don’t struggle.” Perez stepped up beside her, servos grinding as he lifted onto his hind legs. “Squishies in back! Mogyla and I will be loading last, to watch the door. Nobody takes our seats.” They gathered up their supplies, hurrying inside. They didn’t have much—some food they’d made in the cafeteria, what few possessions they had saved. Two of the raven-looking drones that Forerunner had sent. Lucky found herself sitting in back, with Lightning Dust on one side and Spike on the other. As before, the seats reacted to whoever sat on them, adjusting to cradle their body, and strapping them down. Only when they were all inside did the doors slide closed behind them. “Transit in sixty seconds,” said a voice only Lucky could understand. “Prepare for acceleration.” There was no rush to get seated this time, as the countdown slowly walked back the seconds. They were all buckled in securely long before it reached zero. Then it did, and they were slammed backward against the seats. It hadn’t gotten easier to deal with—Lucky still felt like she was being flattened. She saw red, felt the pounding in her head, and waited. The display at the front of the car had their transit time, as it had before. “Ten minutes!” she read, as soon as they had reached cruising speed and she could think again. “Everyone should probably stay in their seats, unless they have something important they need to do. We’ll start slowing down in ten minutes.” Not much time until the final confrontation. We have to try. Lightning Dust was right, Forerunner was right. It’s time to set Equestria free. Olivia appeared at the end of the world. This was the edge—where the reality of Equus’s afterlife melded with whatever machines made it possible. Dr. Faraday had tried to explain what was going on in a way Olivia would understand—about simulated consciousness, about the meaningless nature of the substrate. But then she’d gotten herself wound up about whether or not she was the “real” Martin or not, and Olivia had lost interest. Such questions didn’t matter to her—let the scientists worry over what was real and what wasn’t. They had friends on the other side to protect. Somehow. Yet the end of the world was not what Olivia expected. She had stepped onto the transport pad imagining a glittering city peopled entirely with homicidal robots, or perhaps chunks of floating crystal that constantly moved and reshaped themselves. But that was not what was waiting for them at the end of the world. Instead, they appeared in a pony town very similar to all the others they had seen—perhaps only slightly more modern. The streets were paved here, though there was no sign of vehicles—neither wheeled cars nor the flying drones that had been so popular on her own Earth before she was scanned. The ponies didn’t even look different—not physically, anyway. Their manner of dress was different, almost as though it were some more modern flavor of the typical Equestrian styles. Their cutie marks were all different—every one that was exposed looked to correspond to something technical. Martin began making various pleased sounds as she recognized some of them—but Olivia ignored that too. They had not come to learn about dead pony society as it connected to the administration of the ring. Such questions could wait for the civilian researchers, many years after safety was assured. Othar would be given a civilian administrator, and they could deal with all kinds of questions to send back to Earth. Unless it already has. They weren’t safe, though. Olivia trusted that even one of the scientists, with their naive insistence on diplomacy despite all the evidence, would not waste resources solving Equus’s mysteries while they were still in danger of being destroyed by it. But I’ve been wrong before. Immediately their escorts began to look uncomfortable. They retreated a little, letting Olivia and Martin step off the platform first. “Is something wrong?” Olivia asked, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Not yet,” Pear whispered back. “But we don’t usually travel so close. It’s been a long time. It’s not good to attract Harmony’s attention, unless you don’t mind what it might do to you.” “You two could head back. Martin and I are the ones who really want to be here. You already said you don’t know how to do this stuff—that means you can’t help much, right?” Bright Mac shook his head. “We came to help. Just know we won’t be able to stop Harmony from doin’ what it wants. Anything its rules don’t stop it from doin’, it might do. No guessin’ what that’ll be until we see.” Olivia looked around, searching for any sign of the godlike being that had been described to her all this time. She expected something out of a horror movie—or out of her brief visions of this place prior to death. She expected something that writhed, something with thoughts that would melt her brain just to imagine. She saw only ponies. “Where is it?” Someone walked up to her from a nearby building—a library, perhaps. The pony had a soft gray coat and a white mane—as uninteresting in her coloration as every other one here. “Hello, Olivia. You asked for me?” She had a cutie mark like several rows of numbers, though Olivia didn’t know what any of them meant. “You?” Olivia frowned. “I was wondering where Harmony was, so I could ask some questions. Do you know where I can find him?” The pony nodded. “You’re here. I’m Harmony. Part of it, anyway. Though in some ways, I suppose everything here is. Everyone, too. Would you like me to bring one of my friends instead?” “No!” Pear Butter and Bright Mac exclaimed together, at the exact same moment. Only Pear Butter continued. “Our new friends here would rather figure things out themselves. Right?” “Yes,” Martin said, quicker than Olivia. “Ourselves, right. We’re fine talking to you.” The longer they stood here, the more Olivia realized things weren’t quite what she had thought. It looked like a town, with the same sort of population distribution she would’ve seen in Ponyville. There were male, female, young and old. This resemblance appeared to be only skin-deep, however. There was no conversation—the children didn’t have toys or beg for sweets. The range of cutie marks was remarkably small—it captured only math-related concepts. Most importantly, they weren’t actually doing anything. Ponies walked from place to place, they milled about as though they were gathered to share their meals. They walked past shops, as though they were browsing their windows. But none bought, none ate, they just… existed. “We are pleased to have you here,” said Harmony, stepping in front of Olivia. Almost as though it were annoyed she wasn’t paying attention. “Decided to be more friendly, then? We are always happy to see a pony has changed. We were happy to see both of you changed. To see you uplifted, from animals into people. Proof that even Discord isn’t all bad.” Their escorts shared a confused look. Pear Butter looked like she wanted to say something else, but ultimately fell silent. This pony would overhear. But is there anywhere for us to go that it won’t? Maybe Discord could keep them safe. Maybe they had been safe in his part of the world, until they came here. “Uplifted,” Martin repeated, apparently much less confused than she was. “You mean when we were… added to your system, right? Our cutie marks?” The world changed. Olivia nearly vomited at the sudden shift—worse than pulling six gs during a hot landing approach. She saw red for a few seconds. When she could see again, they were somewhere else. A space station—built to a distinctly human design. She could even see Earth out a massive domed window above them, or at least another planet similar to it. Only the scale was wrong—everything was built to pony size. All the holotables were right within reach, and the chairs low enough for them to lounge comfortably. She made sure not to look up at the slowly rotating world outside, which would have made her nausea worse. The only thing that didn’t change were any of the ponies. Their clothes were different—UN Scientific Dispatch jumpsuits—but the ponies within seemed like the same crowd. Her memory wasn’t perfect, so she couldn’t be completely sure. Olivia might only know this place from the photographs—Martin seemed to know it more intimately. She started quivering, reaching forward with a hoof to rest on an empty seat in front of a holotable. She couldn’t quite read the name badge resting on the plastic. “Cutie marks are not what allows you into Equus,” said Harmony. Her voice didn’t match the body—it was the right pitch, but it didn’t match the youthful, cheery features of this pony. The longer Olivia listened to it, the more she felt she was hearing something old, something bitter. “It is the evidence of registration, not the cause.” There was a squeak, a shout, and Olivia turned. She was too slow—both natives were gone. But Harmony didn’t give her time to think. “Isn’t this better?” asked another pony, an older stallion with a graying beard and colonel’s stripes on his uniform. “You have both been misled. Manipulated by the one who caused you to be created. Exactly like the last ones he created, yet somehow more difficult.” Its voice was a constant presence in Olivia’s ears. Yet it was somehow more obtrusive, more oppressive. “I will not trick you into acting in my interests. I don’t have to, because what I’m doing is right. The truth is the only thing I need to convince you.” Martin seemed to be struggling even to move. She stared off into space, as though she could see something Olivia couldn’t. Her eyes just kept getting wider. “What did you do with the ponies who came with us?” Olivia asked, apparently sturdier of mind than Martin. “Bring them back.” “They’re home,” Harmony said, the first trace of emotion in its voice. It was using the young mare again, maybe trying to sound innocent. “You suspect we have harmed them—this is not the case. We protect all who dwell in Equus. Even you, by virtue of recent personhood. We could not hurt you if we wanted.” At once, all two-dozen ponies she could see on the station promenade stopped what they were doing and turned. Many eyes in the wide pony array of colors watched them without blinking. “Show me more,” Martin whispered. “How much more is there?” “From your perspective—an infinite series. You could struggle to understand what we know until our star finally grows cold, and you would never know it all. But your present level of complexity is a handicap you need not retain.” The mare extended a hoof to Martin, grinning broadly. “I can feel the questions boiling in your mind. You want to know what happened to Earth. You want to know who constructed the ring, and how. I can change you, until you understand.” “We don’t want to be changed,” Olivia said, with a voice like iron. “We came here so we could talk to our friends.” Martin hesitated, her hoof already reaching towards the mare they’d been talking to. Another pony spoke from nearby—a stallion wearing a hydroponics outfit, as though he’d been tending to the plants. “We do not allow contact with the surface. But your friends are not on the surface. We might be able to make an arrangement.” Martin actually looked a little disappointed. Olivia didn’t intend to give her time to reconsider. I am not losing you to this monster. This damn ring has taken enough. “I like this,” Olivia said, loudly and clearly. So loud she hoped it would startle Martin away from whatever she was thinking. “Let’s get right to it. We came here so we could see our friends. What will that take? Do we have to swear our souls, or promise to serve you, or…” “None of that,” Harmony said. “You’re talking about Discord again. Discord wants deals; he deceives and he manipulates and he plots. I don’t need to do any of that.” The mare who had first approached them waved one hoof, and the world around them faded to nothing. It was replaced with a single, gigantic screen, as large as a picture window, along with a single red button. The screen remained blank, at least for now. “What’s the catch?” Olivia asked, eyes narrowing. “It’s… a trick, isn’t it? It won’t really be them. You’re going to try to trick us. You won’t let us tell them anything, and then we’ll think you’re trustworthy.” “No.” The mare stepped back a few paces, so she was no longer in front of the screen. Then she sat down on her haunches, watching them impassively. “No tricks. You’re within the bounds, Olivia. I am required to allow this. You may speak to them as much as you like, this time. Press that button, and they will see you on the nearest screen. Press it again when you’re done, and we can go back to our previous conversation.” “I don’t think we should,” Martin muttered, very quietly. So quiet that Olivia almost didn’t hear her. “Why not?” she whispered back. Though she didn’t think it would help. Harmony’s power seemed almost limitless, aside from its rules. It might be able to hear their thoughts, it would certainly hear a little whispering. “Harmony wants something,” Martin said. “We should not cooperate.” “Says the one who I just stopped from selling her soul,” Olivia said. “This is why we’re here. I don’t care if it’s what Harmony wants.” She smacked the button with a hoof. Then something happened Lucky hadn’t been expecting. The screen changed, its orderly display of their five minutes remaining travel fading away. The display was so good that it looked as though there was an open space behind what had been printed there, a holofield without any of the substrate or washing out. Two ponies appeared there, apparently standing in blackness. They looked very similar to one another—Lucky could only tell them apart thanks to the cutie marks. Well, she knew the owl mark, anyway. The other she didn’t recognize. Harmony, perhaps? Olivia spoke first, sounding urgent. “Can you hear us?” Only a few more minutes before they started to decelerate. There was little time to get unbuckled. “Major?” Perez was the first to respond. Apparently, he hadn’t been buckled in, because he darted right over to the display, saluting. “How are you contacting us, ma’am?” “We’re dead,” said the other pony, in another tone Lucky recognized. Martin’s voice—which explained the cutie mark. “We’re coming to you from the other side! Woaoaaah! I think it’s pretty cool. Just think about how it will be to never lose another great thinker. We can just bring them up and…” Olivia silenced her with a glare. “I don’t understand,” Perez croaked, pulling off his helmet. “You aren’t dead. The princess, Twilight… she agreed to hold you! We’re on our way to rescue you.” “About that.” Olivia shrugged one wing. “I escaped, brought down a castle, then Celestia fucking blasted me.” “How about you?” Lucky asked, her voice low. She wasn’t sure how convincing a liar she would be, so she tried to say as little as possible. There’s no reason for Perez to think we’re lying. It’s okay, nothing’s broken yet. We can still do this. “You were safe in Othar, Martin. Was it… was there an attack after we left?” “No,” Martin said. “At least, not that I noticed. It was my own fault. Forerunner tried to talk me out of it.” Lucky glanced backward at Forerunner, angry. You knew about this. You knew and didn’t tell me. Forerunner only nodded slightly towards Perez, as if to say, ‘Are you any different?’ But what he did say was “We should be slowing in two minutes. Everyone, back into your seats.” “We wanted to send you a message,” Olivia went on, though she seemed to be slowing down. As though she had suddenly forgotten what that message was. “That we’ve been fucking betrayed,” Perez muttered. “That the Equestrians can’t keep their promises. That they murdered you.” “Don’t be stupid!” Martin shouted, pressing close to the screen. Her image looked so real—like she might pass through it up to them at any moment. “The major just told you she escaped and fought Celestia. If she’d stayed in jail she wouldn’t have died. That shouldn’t change… whatever you’re trying to do.” “Equestria isn’t what we thought it was,” Olivia finally said. “Everyone who dies on it… who has a cutie mark, anyway… they’re all in here. Harmony keeps it all running.” It seemed like those words were weighing on her most of all. “We can’t… kill it. Harmony, I mean. Not without murdering more people than you can count. Whatever you do… just keep that in mind. Discord—” The image vanished, replaced with a red screen and “Deceleration Warning” written in Eglathrin. “Into your seats!” Lucky called, her voice as bold and commanding as she could make it. “You’ll get smashed to paste if you don’t!” Perez didn’t rush back to where he’d been sitting before but slumped down into the seat two down from Lucky. “She’s dead. The major escaped… but we weren’t there for her. We were somewhere else. On your insane recruitment drive, Lucky. I could’ve got our major back. It’s your fault she’s dead, not Equestria’s.” Deceleration hit them like another solid wall. Lucky had a few painful minutes to think about what she would do. Was that even really them? Neither of their visitors had given them specifics they could use to verify their identities. Illusions, maybe. It couldn’t be hard to imitate their look and attitude. They finally started to slow enough for her to think. They hadn’t reached their destination yet—another few minutes of deceleration were ahead of them. “Perez.” Lucky spoke as firmly as she could. “Olivia didn’t contact us so you could blame. She called to give us information about our mission. Even though she died, she believes in what we’re doing.” Somehow. Lucky turned to the other side, looking to Deadlight. “Could any of it be true? I’ve heard Discord talk about things that happen after we die before. Could our dead ponies really be…” She pointed at the screen. “Yes,” he answered instantly. “They are. Everypony… and not just with cutie marks. Deer, griffons, dragons, foals… they’re all in there. So are we.” Of course, Perez couldn’t understand that. “We’re already committed to this,” he muttered, his voice cold. “We’re too far to abandon this plan now. Besides—I plan on getting even for the major. But when that’s over, you’re done. I’m not taking another order from another civilian. You’re the reason that we don’t have the major here right now, to give us a better plan than the shit you came up with.” The car finally jerked to a stop, the doors sliding open. Lucky glanced through, expecting to see an empty platform. There were over a dozen Royal Guards out there. They wore shields, and chainmail with strange crystal links woven in with the steel. Past them, she could hear the sound of a bell, and shouts going up throughout the base. There would be no stealth on this mission. Perez smashed the helmet back down over his head, his voice coming through amplified by the suit’s systems. “Get down, civies. Get down and stay down.” He yanked upward, and the restraints ripped right out from around his armor. Outside, several unicorns stood with crossbows ready, aimed in through the doorway. “Stop!” one of the unicorns shouted, in Eoch. “You’re all under arrest for treason, conspiracy, and—” Perez shot him dead before he could finish. Mogyla shot out with him, taking the barrage of crossbow bolts straight on. They dug deep into the steel, denting the armor in places—but not stopping them. We’ll be fine as long as the ammo lasts, Lucky thought, her hooves shaking as she tore off the restraints. “Th-that pony’s bleeding!” she heard Spike gasp from behind them, voice pained, frightened. “We need to help him!” Forerunner crouched low beside them in the back of the car, rifle in both hands and ready to fire. He didn’t actually use it, though—only watched the doorway, waiting to see if any of the guards would be coming back for them. “There’s nothing we can do for them,” he said, in Eoch. “It was either give up and surrender, or fight. We don’t have a choice.” Abubakar nodded from Forerunner’s other side. He had one of the stun-guns that Lightning Dust had been carrying on one hoof, though he didn’t use it. “What’s the backup plan, Governor? When this fight is over…” “There’s a console out there,” she answered. “I’m sure it has a map. We have to find the control room.” “We should not have brought so many who cannot fight. Protecting you will be enough of a burden.” The sound of gunfire in the chamber beyond had finally fallen off, along with the alarm-bell. Lucky could smell the gunpowder. “We’re clear!” Perez shouted into the car. “Whatever we’ve come here to do better fucking work! Everybody off the train!” Lucky was one of the first to step down onto the platform—and she nearly vomited. Watching Olivia’s massacre from a distance had been hard enough, but this—this was the same thing, from feet away. Ponies who were only dead because she had ordered this mission. Well, some of them. It looked like one of the suits hadn’t held real bullets. Plenty of the ponies did not look seriously wounded, though they did occasionally twitch and spasm in pain. They would be out for at least the next few hours. Hopefully long enough to get back here and ride the train away again. But one of her two armored ponies had been using real bullets, as the blood and worse attested. A few of the ponies actually moaned in pain. “That’s it,” Spike said, stopping right in the doorway. “I don’t care about this anymore. If you aren’t helping them, I will.” Lucky nodded—it was the strongest reaction she could muster, just now, walking past so many of the dead and dying. “That’s a good idea. I’d… give you our medical supplies if we had any. We don’t.” “They do.” Spike pointed at a pony wearing white and red and carrying medical saddlebags. Shot straight through, their strange armor splintered to bits. “Anyone else who wants to stay back, you should,” Lucky said, feeling the shakiness in her voice. “It might be worse up ahead. We’ll come back this way on our way out.” She repeated the invitation in Eoch—but to her surprise, neither of their Equestrians were interested. Even Lightning Dust seemed strangely resolved, despite the bloodshed all around her. “We’re putting an end to this,” she said. “Hopefully they’re the last ones who get hurt fighting for an evil princess.” “Where are we going next?” Perez stepped up beside her, armor dented and stained with blood, and an empty hole where his autogun’s magazine should be. He carried a pony crossbow in one mechanical claw—for a second, Lucky thought it might be meant for her. But no—he was still lifting it over his shoulder. She couldn’t see his face through the helmet, so it was impossible to know where his anger was pointed. “I only have the grenades left. Mogyla still has most of the pussy rounds though.” Which explained the ratio of corpses to merely dazed guards. But she didn’t reprimand him—they had intended to bring only those weapons that caused no permanent harm. You didn’t give us the chance, Princess. Lucky could only hope that they had really just seen Olivia—if all that was true, then at least she could think these ponies were somehow still alive. Discord had said it, then Harmony, so it didn’t seem too unreasonable a thing to hope for. I can look into it once we’re done. Maybe find a way to contact Martin or Olivia. If she had more than two tense minutes to talk, she could be more confident of their true identities. Lucky stopped in front of the console, the same one she’d used to order the train back at Transit. She moved quickly through its functions, searching for an internal map. It wouldn’t show her much—“Detailed projections require citizenship access.” But she didn’t need to know where everyone might be hiding, only where they needed to go. “There.” She pointed at a single room on the map. It was the single space with the most power and data flowing to it, at least she thought that was what it suggested. It was the best they could do. The alarm had gone up—if they were ringing a bell down here, it was because there was someone to listen. They couldn’t stay to deliberate. Eventually a princess is going to get here, and we’ll be screwed. “Forerunner, memorize this map! You can lead us here, can’t you?” The drone had been helping Spike with the medical supplies. He came running at her word, taking one glance at the map, and then nodding. “Very well. I believe I can get us there. Are you certain it’s the right way?” Lucky didn’t answer for a few seconds too long—probably all the confirmation he needed. “It has one door and fifty of these… I think these are some kind of information pipeline…” The actual words translated more closely to “Wisdom Channel,” but it felt like it meant something similar. “Alright then.” Perez straightened, shoving through the wreckage they’d made of the train station. “Stay close, everyone! God only knows what fucking disaster is waiting for us. Stay behind the ones in metal, and don’t get shot.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, but Lucky was close enough to hear anyway. “We’ll make you pay, Celestia. Sooner than you think.”