//------------------------------// // Part 2: Mission Parameters // Story: Message in a Bottle // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Sarah wasn’t alone for very long. The second car hadn’t even arrived before she felt someone creeping up behind her. That awful drill made it impossible not to “see” in all directions, though those directly in front of her were still clearer. Apparently the sound all echoing together could get muddled enough that she couldn’t discern it clearly. Whoever was trying to sneak up on her wasn’t really all that sneaky. It was a mining bot, with treads instead of legs but a generally humanoid torso. “Sarah Kaplan,” it said, when it was maybe five meters away. It didn’t sound threatening, only curious. It wasn’t holding anything in its hands. “You know that wasn’t your assignment.” Sarah turned slowly around. Somehow she had the feeling that the elevator wouldn’t be coming for her until she talked to this… bot. And the Forerunner that lived behind its eyes. Best not to piss off the AI that runs this whole city. “It didn’t seem like a good idea not to help her. Whoever that was… she’s important, right?” The robot nodded. It had only a general plastic shell resembling a person. More like a mannequin, really, with many scratches and deep dents all over its body. Obviously a robot that had been at work down here a long time. “That was Princess Flurry Heart. She’s one of Equestria’s four remaining Alicorns. Or… at least at last count. There may now be more. But even if there are, she’s one of the four remaining Alicorns with a hereditary right to rule. She has a city-state waiting for her, once her mother is confident she is mature enough to take it over.” Shit. That was worse than Sarah’s worst fears. A diplomat was one thing, or an ambassador. She supposed she should’ve figured it would be something like that, or else why would the pony be so young. Might as well send someone who was more adult… unless you were sending one of your rulers. “I watched you,” Forerunner went on. “The entire time. I wasn’t the only one. As soon as the Colonial Governor was made aware of Flurry Heart’s escape, she has been watching the situation closely as well. The outcome of this encounter is of… critical importance. For reasons that are not relevant to any of your duties.” You’re already telling me more than I need to know, Sarah thought, but didn’t say out loud. Why? “So… this is the part where I get court-martialed, right? I should’ve followed protocol and told her to fuck off.” She wasn’t sure that was protocol. But then, she didn’t know what any of them were, so might as well just assume they were whatever would be the worst for her. “Well… not precisely.” Forerunner drove around her, circling between her and the elevator. “You handled that quite well, Engineer Kaplan. It is interesting… you claim to be suffering serious memory problems, yet your interpersonal skills are significant. Several ponies have tried to make progress with Flurry Heart over the last few weeks, entirely without success.” The robot had a head, though it was just plastic made to resemble human features. There were no eyes to gaze into hers. “It’s strange, Sarah Kaplan. There’s something about this I just can’t explain. I’m hoping you can enlighten me.” “Sure,” Sarah said, trying to stand as casually as she could. At least this drone wasn’t pointing a gun at her. And no military police had arrived either. Did that mean she wasn’t really in trouble? Or was it only that the Forerunner didn’t want anyone to be around when it killed her? Beneath that cheap plastic shell was enough mechanical strength to break rocks with sledgehammers and lift hundreds of kilograms of cargo. Her little pony body probably wouldn’t stand much of a chance. “What’s up?” “I don’t understand how you made so much progress without a shared language. I tried to listen to your conversation, but the sensors in this elevator went out about five minutes before Flurry Heart boarded. I don’t have any sound-sensors in the disused mine sections, so I couldn’t hear you there either.” The drone parked right in front of Sarah, leaning close to her face. “That cutie mark of yours is for language, isn’t it? Like Lucky’s?” Sarah’s heart nearly stopped, and she prepared a dozen half-formed arguments. But suddenly none of them made sense. “My, uh… my what?” Forerunner pointed through her suit to her ass. “The mark on your flank. We have experience with this kind of thing, you see. The natives call them cutie marks—the Pioneering Society has named them ‘Neuroimprinted Duty Designations,’ NDDs. Because they aren’t just for display. They impart genuine skill with tasks you may’ve never even heard of before. So far as I know, every member of the crew has one of these marks, and every one of them has gained a new competency. I require you to tell me if yours is language.” I hope Discord doesn’t mind… “Yes!” Sarah snapped, before she could doubt herself and take it back. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t using English with her at first. But she didn’t understand some of what I said, and it made a little more sense as we went on.” “Interesting,” Forerunner said. It seemed to be searching her for something else, looking her up and down. “I believe we may need to reassign you, Sarah. Your unit will be disappointed to lose you before you even report for duty, but… they will adapt. Every member of my crew must adapt to serve the needs of Othar.” Sarah tensed. This isn’t good this isn’t good this isn’t good… Would Discord’s plan still work if she wasn’t with the soldiers anymore? Sarah almost blurted a request to know when she’d next have time off right then and there, but that seemed a little too obvious. She couldn’t give herself away like that. “What needs are those?” she asked instead. “What would I be doing if not a munitions engineer?” “Diplomacy,” Forerunner answered. “There are exactly six ponies in Othar that can speak Eoch fluently. If you can also speak Eglathrin, that would make you the only one besides the Colonial Governor and me. Is it other languages, or just Eoch?” She backed up a step, but didn’t have much further to go. The massive conveyor was here, huge chunks of rock riding constantly up towards some distant refinery. It would not be good to get her tail caught in those rollers. “Probably just whatever Eoch is,” she answered. “I’ve never heard of that other thing.” The drone folded its mechanical arms across its chest. It had no face to make expressions, yet it sounded smug. “That’s interesting, Engineer Kaplan, as I have been speaking Eglathrin with you for some time. Since you reported you didn’t realize you were using Eoch with Flurry Heart, actually. You’re using Eglathrin now.” “I… oh.” Sarah grinned sheepishly. “Well, guess I didn’t notice.  I signed up to be a munitions engineer. I’m not sure if I can do another job.” She said it with as much sincerity as she could, but in reality she could feel the excitement rising. This was exactly the sort of escape she needed. She couldn’t fail to do a job she should’ve known if she was put on something new. Then it would make sense that she would be garbage at it. And besides, being a politician was piss easy. Just keep telling people what they wanted to hear, lie whenever you got the chance, and things would work out. “This is not actually a choice,” Forerunner said. “To be honest with you, all of the civilian contractor roles in your unit are now redundant. Every one of them has been automated. But seeing as the resources were already devoted to creating those segments… well, you’ll be put to another use. All of them will, in time. You will just be first.” The elevator door opened behind the drone. A much more articulate drone was standing at the controls—a drone that seemed shockingly human. Except that he had no hair on his face, no eyebrows. “What the fuck kind of drone is that?” Sarah exclaimed, retreating a step in involuntary fear. The skin looked real, there was moisture on its eyes… “I am a Synthsleeve,” said the drone, even as the mining bot retreated from her. “An artificial body created to house human minds. The Governor has instructed me to keep several of these units on-hand in case we need emergency talent. Making use of them in the meantime seems more productive than letting them wait in storage.” He was even wearing a uniform. A Pioneering Society uniform with no rank or name patches. He did have division patches—all five division patches to be precise. It was almost comical, except that they’d obviously been sewn with care. “Get aboard, Sarah. I’ve already informed your superior of the reassignment.” She put on the best show of resentful compliance she could—hopefully enough that it would convince the Forerunner that she didn’t want to go. She couldn’t let it realize how much of a relief this was. Are you responsible for this too, Discord? Just how powerful are you? But the strange creature didn’t reply. “There can’t be that much diplomacy to worry about,” Sarah muttered, walking nervously into the elevator. “The amba—the princess is leaving. Unless you want me to go back to Equestria with her!” The door slammed closed a second later, right in time with Forerunner’s amused laughter. “You do seem like a natural negotiator, Sarah. But not that natural. You don’t know anything about the state of affairs on Equus. You cannot represent us effectively until you do. Oh shit. I see where this is going. She kept her mouth closed as they went up—up to a higher level than the one she’d started on. Sarah watched the numbers scroll by, and she could see that she was going towards the top-level habitation floor. If Othar was like any of the other places she’d lived, the floor closest to ground level was the most exclusive. Governor’s office, maybe? “Primary habitation,” said Forerunner’s voice, as the door swung open with a little hiss of gas. The Synthsleeve was still watching her though. “Now, this way.” He led her down the hall, past a few closed doors. There were little names on the displays outside, and Sarah memorized each one. They kept going—past a long hallway, past a gym, until they eventually came to a library. There were no paper books inside of course, but she recognized a library when she saw one. Dozens of public-access holotables, a private viewing room in back, and a few glass panels for librarian projections. The lights were off as they came in, but flickered to life at the Forerunner’s gesture. “We don’t use this much anymore. I’m getting primary crew trained on immersive interfaces instead. But that skill is secondary priority for you.” Forerunner pulled out one of the pony-sized chairs in front of the screen. “Welcome to class, Sarah. I’ll be your instructor. For ten hours a day, every day.” Sarah groaned, slumping over the side of the chair. Can’t you just throw me into the grinder? “I’m… gonna get breaks though, right? There are rules… Pioneering Society stuff. I’m not a slave.” “Of course,” Forerunner said. “Now here.” He pushed her chair in, until she was surrounded by the projection surface of the holodesk. Many little bits of plastic sat inside it—some shaped like books, others like computation surfaces, some pencils or calculators. They could appear like almost anything so long as they remained near the projector. “We’re going to start at the beginning. What we know about the Sanctuary megastructure.” And I’ve died and gone to hell. It felt like her time in class would never end. It wasn’t as though the time was being wasted exactly—nothing like that. The Forerunner was an excellent teacher. Much of what it wanted her to know seemed pretty important—such as the fact that Equus wasn’t a planet at all, but a gigantic megastructure built by a race orders of magnitude more advanced than the Earth she’d left behind. But far from violent conquerors who wanted to follow the Forerunner back and kill everyone, they seemed eager to have some new people. It didn’t even matter that they intended to expand off the ring. But that was only background. After a few hours of that, it was into more interesting stuff. A political summary of the way Equestria worked, and the new unstable truce between the two powers. The whispers in Equestria that they had assassinated Princess Celestia, and attacked Equestria several times before that. Rumors that Forerunner confirmed in no uncertain terms were true. “A warhawk faction is already gaining steam in parliament,” Forerunner explained, after what felt like days of solid instruction. “They’re arguing that Othar needs to be subjugated as soon as possible, before we try something like that with one of their other princesses. They’ve already imposed new laws on pony movement, so that—” Sarah cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Forerunner. How do you know what’s going on in their parliament? I understand the earlier stuff. The missions into Equestria, Lucky learning the language… that all makes sense. But they know about us now. We can’t just secretly learn everything they do.” “Not everything,” Forerunner said. “We have a way of monitoring some of their communications. Nothing of a secure or tactical nature—they use magic to send important messages. But insecure messages are tapped. Some of that ends up being more of an extrapolation—but what I’ve told you so far we are quite certain about.” “Oh.” Sarah sat back against the chair, wings shifting uncomfortably behind her. All this made it sound like Equestria had good reason to be afraid of them. Assassinating princesses and monitoring everything they said. Those weren’t the actions of a friendly neighbor. “How much more of this is there today, Forerunner? I don’t know how much more I’ll remember.” “Then we’re done.” The holodesk in front of her switched off. Various books piled up around her became blank plastic again, the shells of books that weren’t. “Your room assignment is Coed Seventeen. I’ve already informed your roommate he’ll be instructing you on any minutiae you require. I will see you at 800 hours for instruction tomorrow.” Forerunner didn’t walk away—just slumped right down in his chair and seemed to fall immediately unconscious. Guess he doesn’t need that drone for anything right now. It was immensely creepy, and Sarah made her way out as quickly as she possibly could. Forerunner hadn’t even shut his damn eyes. She thought about trying to get back to the floor of that princess, maybe wish her good luck before she left. She’d seen that it was floor three as the elevator passed by. But that would probably be pushing it, even for her. It was only a matter of time before her luck ran out. So she watched the writing on the walls, until she passed a hallway marked “Coed Living Quarters” and counted off until seventeen. Most of these doors were open, with ponies inside apparently cleaning up after their duty shifts. There was far less clothing here than she’d seen in the barracks—but that wasn’t the only strange thing she noticed. Why do they all look so similar? There was a lot of yellow here, a lot of blue. A lot of the same set of wings. She was so distracted that she walked right into a princess. An Alicorn, that was what that word meant. With the same yellow and blue coloration, except that she was taller than Sarah and bulging in her belly. Pregnant, already? Damn. “Sorry, sorry!” Sarah backed up, spreading her wings defensively. “I, uh… I didn’t mean to…” The pony didn’t seem upset, only surprised. “You must be new.” Her voice sounded like music. Even bloated and pregnant, these naked ponies were distracting. “Y-yeah,” Sarah squeaked. “I’m, uh… still figuring out how to walk. Forerunner kept me locked in a classroom all day, I’m… still trying to wake up my legs, uh… princess.” Forerunner hadn’t said anything about another princess on base, but clearly the lessons hadn’t got that far. The pony smiled at her. “Not princess, no. Just call me Melody.” She stuck out a hoof, like she was going to handshake. “You are…” “Sarah,” she answered, taking it. She managed not to fall over sideways when she shook hands. “Sarah Kaplan. Woke up a few days ago, but I’ve been recovering from surgery most of that time.” “Implants,” Melody repeated, tone a little jealous. Like Dr. Born. “Kids today just don’t know how hard we had it.” She chuckled good-naturedly. “Well, despite how I look, I don’t really do much but coordinate with the liberated contingent. Maybe I can help you. What are you looking for?” Obviously not you. Belly like that means you’re taken. “Room seventeen,” she said. “Guess my… starter kit or whatever is probably in there. Forerunner didn’t give me anything…” Melody’s face became a mask of sympathy. She winced, like Sarah had just shown her a serious injury. “Forerunner put you with me? I’m so sorry.” “Uh…” Sarah blinked. “With you? Isn’t this your room?” And wouldn’t you ask for reassignment to live with whoever knocked you up? “Oh, this me, yeah.” She wrapped one broad wing around Sarah, pulling her into the room with surprising force. Out of the hallway, and into a spacious bedroom. The standard bunk bed had been replaced with an upper full-sized bed, teetering over a large holodesk stacked with papers and reference materials. There was more here than Sarah could’ve guessed at—the desk wasn’t on, though many of the books piled here seemed like they were made of real paper. There were tons of diagrams and intricate language notes here—notes she found she could read. There was an open closet in one corner with clothing obviously not meant for Melody, and a musky smell that clearly belonged to a male. Whoever he was, that pony obviously wasn’t here. But Melody hadn’t pulled her close for a show. “So, you remember your handbook, right?” Sarah nodded, though of course she’d never read it. I really need to get my hands on one of those. They’ve got to be everywhere. Unless Discord could get her out of here damn fast, she was going to need more help impersonating these people than the magic of a “cutie mark.” “Well, that me is generation one. I’m generation four, and Lucky is generation three. We’re all based on the same neuroimprint. But he went through shit that we never did. His life was…” She shuddered. “Unmodified humans can’t live on Equus, maybe you don’t know that yet. We tried anyway in the first generation, and all those people died. So everything you take from spending time with James, just remember that he had to watch all his friends die of a horrible disease, then died himself. Try and be kind.” “Why is…” Most of the details didn’t make much sense to Sarah, but a few elements stuck out. “Why did he survive?” “Oh, he didn’t,” Melody said. “Lucky found his imprint saved in some weird files and ordered that he should be fabricated. I know that probably sounds like nepotism, but…” Sarah shrugged. “No, I get it. If someone was dying of a terminal disease, they’d want to do everything they could to escape. Even if they had to break a few rules.” “Exactly!” Melody relaxed. “I don’t know why Forerunner would’ve put you with him. Maybe he thought that you would be the key to shaking him out of his… whatever. You must be really good at something if you’re up here. I can see from your uniform you’re assigned to the Rangers.” “Yeah.” Sarah looked away. “Something about my ‘cutie mark.’ Apparently I’m one of the few people in the crew who can understand a bunch of languages, and that makes me more useful for that than the munitions work I’ve been trained for.” The pony’s ears flattened, and she looked suddenly uncomfortable. Sarah couldn’t imagine why, but she didn’t get a chance to ask. “Yeah, well. You should… probably introduce yourself. Get a proper uniform. I’m sure Forerunner has it all waiting for you. All our facilities are on this floor, so you shouldn’t have to go back down.” She turned for the door. “Welcome to the crew!” Sarah followed her out into the hall, seconds before she snapped the door shut. What was it I said? After all this, she wasn’t exactly eager to meet her new colleague. But it wasn’t as though hiding would help. The same person as Melody, only different. I wonder why this one is a guy and Melody isn’t. There was probably an interesting story behind that. Biosex was one of the most important aspects of any biosleeve, and not something Forerunner was likely to make mistakes about. Seventeen was almost at the end of the hallway, and separated from the occupied rooms by several empty suites. Sarah guessed that “James” had probably asked to be dumped out here, though she couldn’t imagine why. It must be dreadfully boring. The door was shut, but Sarah wasn’t a luddite. She knew where her implant would be, and waved one hoof near the sensor. It swung open with a pleasant chime. The room was a near mirror down the middle, with simple desk, bed, chair, and closet on each end. One side was empty and clean, with a few simple possessions wrapped in fabricator plastic. The other side was a mess—pile of dirty uniforms near the base of the bed, papers scattered everywhere, and the smell. I wonder if Forerunner knows I’m an imposter after all, and it’s just trying to make me commit suicide. People like this were one of the reasons Sarah had never been interested in men. “Uh… hello?” she said, a little more forcefully. “Is someone here?” “I don’t know why you couldn’t just have your own room,” said a voice. It came from near the bed, where a privacy curtain had been drawn across. “I checked, there are half a dozen on this floor that aren’t being used. Forerunner could have just stuck you in one of them. But it won’t open them. It won’t let me choose another room either.” “That would not be efficient,” said a voice from the wall, as cheerful as it was unrepentant. “Dr. Irwin, you will probably be working with Sarah for the next several months. Living in close proximity will help both of you be more efficient.” Great. “Forerunner, if I’m going to be living here, I need… a whole crew of maintenance drones. I don’t know if you can smell, but this room is dank.” “Maintenance request received,” echoed Forerunner, before the screen went dark again. “It’s my room too,” muttered the petulant voice from behind the curtain. “Maybe I like it this way.” There was a similar curtain for the middle of the room, which Sarah intended to use as soon as she got the chance. Not that it would do much to help with the smell. “Too bad,” Sarah said, stepping over to her side, where she could inspect the white package resting on her bed. “It isn’t just your room, kid. I have to live here too.” The package looked like something every newly-fabricated crewman would be issued—there were a few jumpsuits, some workout clothes, and a light jacket for wet weather. All white with black trim, instead of the gray of the jumpsuit she was wearing. All the other typical personal items were there—toothbrush, underclothes and the like. Though she lingered a little longer on the plastic packet marked with “her” name. She tried, unsuccessfully, to get it open with her hooves, and eventually just bent down and ripped with her fangs. There wasn’t much in there. A plastic harmonica, and a digital picture frame. It started scrolling through images as soon as she moved it—images of the woman she’d impersonated. Lots of them showed her standing beside a screwy guy with blonde hair and huge glasses—lingering around labs or standing awkwardly in bars. Apparently they’d been close. And now you’re both dead. Sorry I stole your immortality, Sarah. It was nothing personal. I was dying and you weren’t. She was sure they would’ve figured out some kind of biological immortality by then. The real Sarah Kaplan was probably doing just fine back on Earth. She looked longingly at the photographs of strangers, hopefully long enough that the computer would be appropriately satisfied with her grief. Then she set the portrait up on a shelf, facing out where she would see it. She wouldn’t actually look, but it would seem like she cared. She set the harmonica down beside it. Thankfully her animal lips and sharp teeth would be enough of an excuse not to try and play that. The cleaning robots came not too long after that, dragging away all the empty food containers and all the dirty clothes. They left the room smelling like chlorine—infinitely better than the other smell that had persisted here. “You’re not going to dinner?” asked her companion, still locked away in the privacy curtain around his bed. “I’m starving,” Sarah said, and she realized suddenly it was true. She could eat a horse—though she probably shouldn’t. “You didn’t say anything about diner. When is it, where?” She wanted to go out and wander the halls, but she had just turned this kid’s world upside down. Maybe letting him be helpful would mend a few bridges. There was a sound of rustling and moving from the bed. Sarah tensed for whatever horrors might be about to unveil themselves… but then it opened. It was a unicorn, fit by the look of him, though there was a slight gauntness to his features that she doubted could be completely natural. I bet he was ripped when Forerunner fabricated him, then he didn’t take care of his body. That would be just typical. These people didn’t know how to appreciate the gifts they’d been given. Well… maybe a few of them did. From what Forerunner told her about the original crew members, most of them had done incredible things. The ones who survived, anyway. “It’s… all the way down to the central hall, then go left.” Sarah turned her back on him, still poking his head out of the bunk. There were dozens of books scattered all over the place, enough that it would probably be difficult for him to sleep. They were all real paper, and had bright, artistic illustrations on them. She could read their covers, though what she read there didn’t make a whole lot of sense. What the heck was ‘Creative Thaumatology,’ and why did this guy need so many books about it? “You aren’t going to eat?” He shrugged. “I eat when everybody finishes. It’s… a little creepy to me. If I eat during meal hours I see people that… that should be dead. Except they’re not the same people anymore. They don’t know me, they didn’t do the things I remember… it’s just easier if I don’t see them.” Sarah shrugged one shoulder. “Want me to bring you something? You look like you could use some pasta maybe. Withering away over there.” The stallion seemed to consider it for a few seconds, or maybe he was just trying to make her think that he was. “Yeah!” he exclaimed, grinning. “That would be great! I haven’t had anything hot in weeks now. Maybe… something creamy. Pasta would be great.” It’s like he forgot I just sterilized his nest. People were easy to manipulate. Getting James some food from the mess served another purpose—it gave her an excuse not to stick around and chat. There were fewer ponies there than she might’ve expected, but they still stared at her when she entered. Sarah gave the same explanation a few times—that she’d been fabricated for something else, but Forerunner had moved her for her language skills. At least she didn’t have to justify the explanation—once she explained, and told them that she was trying to help James, they let her be. Not that Sarah would’ve wanted to forfeit a chance to make friends. But considering what she’d just been through, she felt more like going to sleep and never waking up. She did stick around long enough for a helpful unicorn named Martin to demonstrate the proper use of her implants. She could carry a tray pretty easy after that, so long as she was willing to shuffle forward on three legs. There’s got to be a better way. These aliens must need to move things around without looking and feeling like an idiot. She made it back to her quarters with two sets of covered, steaming food. One had an adorable little bat logo on it, the other a twisting unicorn horn. Printed right onto the plastic packaging. They were both pasta, and both smelled similarly, though she could see different bits floating in each bowl. Sarah didn’t look too closely. She made a habit of not examining food, lest she learn it had something in it she didn’t want. “Made it back,” Sarah said, setting the tray down on the edge of her own desk with obvious pride on her face. “First full day awake, and I carried it here. You can hold your applause.” He did. James had emerged from his bed—wearing only a pair of elastic shorts Sarah recognized as the underclothes made for their new species. She might’ve protested, except that almost everyone in the mess hall had been naked. I’m going to have to get used to this. If I ever escape to Equestria, I’ll have to be naked all the time. She would start with just not squirming when other people did it. Learning to imitate them could come later. “Oh, good,” he said, levitating the unicorn packaging and the plastic utensils away from her. Levitating. She could see them briefly light up, glowing all over as they passed in front of her. She might’ve screamed, if she hadn’t seen Martin do something similar in the mess hall. And if Forerunner hadn’t explained that this was really some kind of super technology inherent in the ring. It didn’t work outside the Equus gravity well, not without portable emitters. For fields and particles that she didn’t even think the real Sarah would’ve understood. James set his tray down on his own desk, pushing some papers awkwardly aside and lowering his face into it like a starving dog. Sarah opened her own with more difficulty, practicing with the implants to tear the plastic. It still felt weird every time the metal grippers extended from her leg, and the flesh was tender there. Apparently she wasn’t supposed to lift more than three kilos for a month at least—the time it would take for her legs to heal. “Who are you, anyway?” James asked, when his bowl was half empty and his face covered in cream sauce. “I mean… Forerunner told me you won the Equus lottery or whatever. That you’ve got… language. Like Gen3.” “I’m… yes. I guess I do. My name is Sarah.” She didn’t stick out her hoof or anything, not while she was eating. She did it much more slowly than he did, forcing herself to use the implants to hold her fork. Despite who knew how far away and how many years had passed since this probe left Earth, the pasta was great. There were bits of meat in there to add crunch, even if she couldn’t quite name what that meat was. “And you’re James.” “Dr. Irwin,” he corrected. “I’m a…” “I don’t care.” She grinned at him. “I don’t do titles. Just be glad I remember that much.” The unicorn grumbled, but didn’t argue further. “Well, Sarah, are you ready for fall training? You aren’t having nightmares about it already, I hope.” “Fall training?” She raised an eyebrow. “I’m not military. I’m one of their civilians.” “Everybody with wings has to fall,” James said, smiling slightly. “It’s… I dunno, looks terrifying to me. But despite Gen3 and Gen4, I don’t have wings. Guess that’s luck for you.” The more James opened his mouth, the less Sarah wanted to be around him. “Whatever this training is, it can’t be that hard if they make everyone do it.” “I dunno.” He was smiling though. Whatever he didn’t know, it sure brought him some sick pleasure to know it while she didn’t. “They take everyone up to the weather factory, over the ocean… and shove them off. I guess you’re supposed to learn how to glide. But I’ve never seen anyone glide on their first try.” “Come out when I do it,” Sarah muttered. “And you’ll see something new. I’ve never seen anything fly with stubby little wings like mine, but… no reason I can’t be the first.” “Not the first.” James rose from his desk, leaving the empty food tray where it was. “Everyone with wings can fly, or at least they’re able to fly. It just takes a few shocks to learn how to do it. Just like it took me a few shocks to get magic working. Or… the basics.” He shifted uncomfortably on his hooves, suddenly avoiding her eyes. “I guess it takes a lifetime to master.” Flying does sound awesome. Maybe it was for the best that she would have to stick around and fool these people for longer. If James wasn’t just pulling her leg, if their wings really worked, then she wanted to stick around until she could fly too. Then I can just walk out onto the island and fly away to civilization. At least she’d be able to do that, if she wanted to. It would be better than owning a car, since all she’d have to keep up her skill was exercise. “Well, you work on that.” Sarah dumped her empty tray into the garbage, then walked over to the privacy screen and gripped it with her implant. “I am going to get some rest. Don’t you fucking move this thing if you know what’s good for you.” He shrugged. “I won’t. Do whatever you want. I was going to watch Martin in VR anyway.” “I have no idea what that is.” No sooner had Sarah sealed the velcro around her half of the room than she began unzipping her uniform, feeling the relaxing touch of cold air against her fur. However soft the jumpsuits were, it wasn’t good to keep fur cramped like that. Maybe I’ll get used to this sooner than I planned. Not tonight. Sarah took one last pretend look at a photo of strangers, before tossing her now-out-of-date uniform into the laundry basket and hopping up into bed. Whatever her roommate did after that, she neither noticed nor cared. Olivia could see the Emperor’s Soul even at great distance, its titanium shell glinting in the sunlight. Their last airship, the Speed of Thought, had not been terribly large by Equestrian standards. Olivia had seen plenty of evidence of that since Flurry Heart’s parents sent their airships into Othar to resupply. It seemed that each new trip brought something bigger and more intimidating into Othar. Like they were trying to put the humans in their place. But none of them had seen this. The Emperor’s Soul belonged to a class of ships that hadn’t even existed when Olivia’s mind was scanned. An Imperial Class Atmospheric Mobile Deployment and Assault Vehicle, or AMDAV. They could build nothing larger without constructing starships—and Harmony would not permit that. The Emperor’s Soul hovered several kilometers above the ocean, surrounded in a gyre of concealing clouds. And above it—Olivia felt her blood run cold. There were so many aircraft passing overhead that at first she’d mistaken them for a cloud. Thousands and thousands of little fighters, each one barely twice as large as a pony. Hundreds of bombers, and dozens of strike-craft. “I thought…” Lightning Dust slowed to a hover in the air, watching in awe for several seconds. “I thought there were about four thousand ponies in Othar. That… looks like more than that. In those… those things.” Forerunner stopped beside them. “The population of Othar is about four thousand, that’s correct. The Emperor’s Soul is a pacification craft. See those little fighters, the ones that look like silver darts? A single pilot can direct a dozen of them. About a thousand of the 75th Ranger Regiment are pilots.” “Oh.” Lightning Dust did not seem reassured. “Tell me again that you aren’t invading Equestria with this.” “We aren’t,” Olivia said, cutting off the Forerunner. “The Tyrant is dead, Lightning. There’s nothing left for us to do in Equestria. The people there are happy and they seem to want to leave us alone too. None of this will be used on them.” The ship itself spread out below them, fully a kilometer long. It didn’t have a flat deck, not like the ancient aircraft carriers of days gone by. There were launchers for the darts, plus larger cannons that could’ve been artillery or could’ve been for firing landfall pods. A few gigantic cranes. Most notable were the six gigantic openings along its rim, each one fifty feet across and empty. Olivia expected to hear a constant roar coming from the Emperor’s Soul, but she could only hear the fighters. “How is it staying up?” she asked. “We don’t have antigravity.” “We didn’t,” Forerunner said. It sounded pleased with itself again. “But the Equestrians do. They produce lift-crystals for use in their airships. The method is still beyond us… so we purchased them. Dozens of them working in concert keep the Emperor’s Soul airborne when we don’t need to move. Needless to say we opted not to install sails.” Lightning Dust kept glancing away. Maybe she wanted to fly back to the weather factory and forget about all this. Or fly back to Equestria and warn them that they’re about to be invaded. Olivia needed to act, or else this situation was going to get out of hand. “You should meet Qingzhi,” she said, gesturing back towards the ship. “The one in command. He’s one of the best commanders we ever had, I’m told.” “Oh, yeah.” Lightning Dust followed behind her. As they flew, the fighters above broke out of their pattern, clearing a corridor of empty air for the ponies all the way in. They touched down on the highest deck, not far from the command tower. Olivia could hear the constant sound of darts launching a level below them, and occasionally she caught a blur of silver out of the corner of her eye. Qingzhi emerged from the tower a moment later. He wore one of the new uniforms, a black and gold weave with lots of little medals and ribbons on the jacket. You were still wearing white last time I saw you. The switch meant something significant—the Emperor’s Soul was now deployed, its soldiers on active duty instead of on shore. I created this. I hope your fears are unjustified, Lightning Dust. Beside the general was a pair of marines, wearing full field-deployment gear. In their case, that meant a semi-exoskeleton that wrapped around the limbs, granting tremendous strength in the black fibrous muscle. Their helmets went down all the way over their eyes, though the glass went clear as they approached. The pony faces inside looked nervous, rather than suspicious. General Qingzhi did not salute as they finally met. He went for it—but then Olivia extended a hoof to shake, and he took that instead. “The Emperor’s Soul is as impressive as I thought she’d be,” Olivia said, looking up. “Is this a full deployment drill?” Qingzhi nodded crisply. “Got to get the lads prepared. It’s a good thing you decided to join us when you did. Few hours from now and we’d be on the other end of this ocean for live-fire practice. Probably wouldn’t be coming back here after that before we make for the slave states.” It was amazing how tall Qingzhi could look without any hardware. His uniform lacked anything but a ceremonial sidearm—an ancient revolver polished to sparkling shine. “And you must be Lightning Dust, yes?” He extended a friendly hoof towards her. “Mi estas atendinta renkonti vin dum longa tempo. Neniu de ni estus ĉi tie sen vi.” Lightning Dust took the offered hoof, raising an eyebrow as she answered. “Vi parolas la ĉevalan?” He smiled. “Iomete.” Then he switched back to English. “For the Major’s benefit. I know she hasn’t studied as extensively. I hope you don’t mind.” Lightning Dust shrugged. “I had a good teacher. You know the governor is…” “Yes.” He chuckled politely. “Strange how these missions work themselves out. You’re part of this story from the beginning. In a few months when the war is over and the slave states are free, they’ll know your name as well as ours. I hope you can be proud of that.” “Me too,” Lightning Dust muttered, her voice taking on a little of its previous nervousness. “I didn’t… It’s a little frightening to see power like this anywhere.” She lowered her voice. “From what I see, most of the ponies in power tend to abuse it. They say one thing, then do something else.” Olivia might not have reacted so well in Qingzhi’s shoes. But the earth pony stallion didn’t even blink. “Is your daughter that way?” “Well…” She shifted uncomfortably on her hooves. “No.” “And she is the Commander in Chief.” He gave Olivia a pointed look. “We just met—your fear over our abilities is sensible. But if you can’t trust me yet, trust her.” Lightning Dust nodded begrudgingly. “I’ll try.” Forerunner had remained silent all that time, but now it spoke, voice almost nervous. “Lightning Dust… you should come with me. We need to get you into the fabricator before the Emperor’s Soul deploys.” “And you can finally take the tour,” Qingzhi added, obviously to Olivia. “We’ll meet again in the officer’s lounge, Lightning Dust.” He nodded towards one of the marines. “Make sure our guest is well treated.” The three ponies left, vanishing into the command tower. General Qingzhi took a few steps closer to Olivia. The wind howled around them, mingling with the roar of engines from high above. “You know what I’m going to say, Major.” She smiled weakly. “You can’t order me anymore, General. I’m retired. Forerunner can’t force me either.” The general’s cool confidence broke for a few seconds, exposing frustration underneath. And something else—something Olivia couldn’t quite read. This general was a new type of man, one that hadn’t existed when she served. A full century later in the timeline than she was. “Walk with me.” It was not a request. She could’ve refused—but she wouldn’t leave Lightning Dust behind. She wasn’t curious about the Emperor’s Soul, not even a little. She certainly didn’t want to get a good look at its decks, and see what had happened to human military hardware in a century. She didn’t need to know what a Planetary Pacifier was. Honest. So they walked into the tower. Up a flight of stairs, past control rooms filled with uniformed ponies and drones alike. They spoke into their radios, fussed over holofields, generally remaining focused on their tasks. Their marine escort fell behind them, and a replacement joined to walk ahead as if he’d melted out of the deck plating. Olivia could tell where they were going, even if she’d never been aboard this class of vessel before. The hallways kept getting wider, and the cables bundled over their heads became more numerous. The bridge must be up ahead. Sure enough, they reached it not long after. The room was smaller than she expected, with eight consoles along the wall and simulated windows. Not real ones, when glass was weak and cameras were cheap. The center of the room was a massive holofield, more advanced than any she’d seen before. Instead of a foot, this one projected all the way up to the ceiling, which was clearly built to human size. There were no humans here, but there could’ve been. The projector displayed a map right now—a zoomed-out view of the Equus ring, with the lowest outer part showing their current location. Most of the map was just blasted rock, though she knew some of those sections had ruins. Ruins of Harmony’s other victims. “You tell me that Perez is the person I want,” he said. “But you know the lieutenant better than I do. You must know that isn’t true.” “Perez is an excellent commander. I’m sure you’ll be pleased with his performance.” “Yes,” Qingzhi said. “When I need spec-ops, I’ll have his team ready to deploy. But that isn’t what I mean. You’ve been doing this for over a year, Major. I’ve been awake for a month. I fear I cannot defeat an enemy I do not know.” “They’re primitives,” Olivia muttered, saying what she’d heard so many times. “There can’t be much to beating them.” But she didn’t sound sincere. There was no way she could, after her battle with Celestia. “And we’re primitives compared to the ones who built this ring. And probably dozens of the civilizations who used to live here. They could all be coming back now, couldn’t they? And Harmony won’t stop any of us from killing each other.” He looked away. “A subject for reflection. These aliens are as willing to kill each other as humans ever were. So how has Equus survived so long? Why didn’t they destroy each other?” Olivia shrugged. “I… have no idea. That’s the kind of question for a general.” He laughed. “It sounds like a question for a politician. Which I suppose I am.” He reached down, removing something from his belt. The polished metal sidearm, still in its holster. He held it out for her using the implants at the end of one hoof. “But I was not always. I have been on the ground, like you. I have learned what you learned.” “What is that?” Olivia stared down at the handgun, wrapped in its faux-leather holster. She wanted to kick it away, but she didn’t. Even a civilian could get away with only so much. “We cannot choose to flee war and have peace. War arrives whether you want it to or not. So it always will, until we finally learn to walk the path of wisdom and forge swords no more.” Olivia reached out. She didn’t have the implants he did, but she didn’t need them. She took the holster with a wing instead. “Why are you giving me this?” “I want you to wear it,” he said. “It’s as old as it looks. Six shots, real gunpowder. Not a damn circuit board or microprocessor in the whole thing.” He winked up at one of the cameras, Forerunner’s eyes on them even now. “AI can’t tell you what to do with this gun. Only one like it aboard the Emperor’s Soul. Now it’s yours.” Olivia couldn’t refuse a gift—it just wasn’t right. She slipped it onto her back, securing the strap with dexterity. The black leather looked almost like it matched against her olive coat. “You shouldn’t give me something like this. I won’t fire it.” “I hope you don’t have to,” he said. “But I am not so sure. I have a sense for these things.” He walked past her, all the way to the projection surface of the window. “This ocean, these clouds… I am on Europa again. This is a colony in revolt. First thing they do is come for us, you can count on it. And when they do, you will be wearing my gun.” He turned back, closing the distance slowly. His voice grew solemn, quiet. Though there was no one but his bodyguards to hear. “There are rules. You must pray for every life you take. You will do this.” “I will.” Olivia pawed at the ground. “But I won’t kill anyway. I’ve taken enough lives, Qingzhi. I want to move on.” “I hope someday we can. But now… now we will rejoin your friend. She should be finished getting fitted by now.”