//------------------------------//
// Chapter 30 
// Story: Voyage of the Equinox 
// by Starscribe 
//------------------------------//



Treat her here 94% 



First there was the simple notification from the ship’s computer that they were nearing the end of their deceleration burn, and would soon fire the navigational thrusters to settle into stable orbit around Proximus B. This meant the Eye could get a good view, and would likely have interesting information about the planet below.

But on her way to the eye’s little station near the top of the Equinox, she got another message—from Spike. “It’s finished,” he said, his voice nervous and eager. “The thing we’ve been working on all this time. It didn’t take as long as I thought. Once the fabricator started working…”

And she turned, lifting into the air and using her unicorn magic to make “down” be along the corridor, so she could “fall” back towards the elevator as fast as she could go. She held the radio in her magic as she went. “What’s it doing? The machine… is it safe? You shouldn’t have switched it on without a crew meeting!”

“I didn’t!” Spike sounded almost hurt. “It’s finished building, Twilight. And the last step… I’d never do it without your permission. It’s too dangerous.”

Spike had been obsessive about that stupid fabricator for months now—a very dragon way to behave. But he hadn’t forgotten his training, or his loyalty. Somewhere deep inside, he was still the egg she’d hatched in the Imperial Academy all those years ago.

Only once she was breathing easily did she get the call from Fluttershy. “Um… Captain? Captain Twilight?”

She stopped what she was doing with her magic, settling onto her hooves. Spike was almost all the way down, and she was only one deck away from medical. Best stop running if her medical pony was going to need her. “Yes, Fluttershy?”

“It’s, uh… about Pinkie.”

“I want you to tell me everything I need to know in the next sentence you say, Fluttershy. Tell me what happened.”

Fluttershy’s deep breath was all the confirmation Twilight needed. 

“She’s awake. But—”

But Twilight hardly even heard her. She was galloping now, not mustering enough of the magic it would take for a careful flight. The one who knew what had happened to her ship was awake. Maybe now she would finally get some bucking answers.

“Are you still coming, Twi?” That was Spike, his voice distant and out of focus. “I need your help to decide what to do!”

“Bring it to medical. Pinkie just woke up, I can take a look at it after talking to her.”

“Okay,” Spike answered, and finally fell silent. 

It only took Twilight another minute to get to medical. She could hear Pinkie’s voice drifting down the hall before she even left the lift. “Seven roads! The darkness writhes down seven roads!” 

Down the hall, something crashed and shook, glass shattering. “Please, Pinkie! You need to—”

“They’re inside you too! Can’t you fell them?”

Twilight didn’t hesitate—she closed her eyes, and crossed the rest of the hallway in a flash of light.

Medical looked like a bomb had gone off. Anything that wasn’t nailed down had been tossed onto the floor, with equipment and vials of medicine alike broken. Pinkie Pie herself was in a corner, clutching a scalpel in her teeth like she had just fought a bear with it. Fluttershy cowered on the other side of the room, as far away from her as possible. “I was calling for help!” Fluttershy called, her voice feeble.

Pinkie Pie did not look well. Even without the madness in her eyes, Twilight would’ve winced to see her. The grafts were healing, though the stitches connected to the rest of her looked like the coat might never grow in again, and left harsh, bare lines in her pink fur. Her cryosleep sickness lingered in several gray patches, and a mane that grew only in wispy tendrils.

Then there was her eyes—only once in her life had Twilight seen a pony with that expression, and he hadn’t survived the night.

Twilight took a breath, and called on a different kind of magic.



Twilight attempts to use her Alicorn Sovereignty to calm Pinkie Pie down. Success



“You will drop that knife, Pinkie.” She spoke with absolute confidence—the same confidence her teacher had once manifested in the face of Discord’s unknowable chaos.

The Earth pony obeyed. It tumbled out of her mouth, slicing through and sticking in the textured plastic, blade-down. “What happened to you, Pinkie? Was it Cozy Glow?”

“Saw it coming. I saw it, when nopony did. Safe. You’re safe.”

“Safe from what? From a stowaway?”

“Their voices in the darkness. Filling your veins with sugar and making the worst cakes ever.”

Almost thought I’d gotten through. “Sedate her,” Twilight instructed, gesturing urgently. “I’m not sure how long she’ll be…” 

Fluttershy responded instantly, hurrying over. A few seconds later, Pinkie Pie slumped to one side, breathing heavily. “I’ll get her into restraints before she wakes up,” she said, panting. “I… I was afraid this might happen.”

“Afraid she might be…”

“Damaged,” Fluttershy whispered. “It’s the same kind of scarring as on you, Twilight. But you’re an Alicorn. She’s… not.”

“Help her.” It was the only instruction she could give, and probably not even a necessary one. But she could hear someone coming down the hall—Spike, rolling a wheeled metal cart from the sound of it. Twilight nodded once to Fluttershy, then hurried out.

There was Spike, behind one of the carts that would’ve been used to load the single torpedo tube—if they hadn’t stripped it for parts. The probe settled onto soft cloth in the center had been stripped itself, with its fins and engines and everything except the casing itself removed. And from within, the faint warmth of active electronics.

“You put it in a probe shell?” Stupid question, she could see it in front of her. “What is it?” she asked, before Spike could get into the painful subject of what had just happened.

“I don’t know,” Spike admitted. “has, uh… some kind of screen, look.” He rolled it over, and through what had been a sensor access panel there was now a flat bit of glass. Words were printed there, simple instructions in Ponish clearer than any screen she’d ever seen.

Require direct connection with archive to complete download. Please connect immediately.
 
Archive… it wanted direct access to their mainframe. It wants all that data taking up space on our computer.

Twilight was in a poor state to decide anything. But Spike didn’t look like he was going to give her time to think.

1. Connect the strange device directly to the mainframe. There’s no way it would hurt us, that would be a huge waste of time and energy. It’s like Fluttershy said, that isn’t how the Signalers act. It’s time to see what they really wanted. Maybe we’ll get good news for once.

2. This has gone far enough. Remove whatever is powering that thing and pack it away into a crate for later study. Sorry Spike, but this went on far enough. We’re not in any place to fight enemies on two fronts. Maybe when we’re safer, or when we’re back in Equestria. We have bigger problems right now.

3. Destroy the device and eject all of the new fabricators into space. They’re responsible for all of this. (-morale Spike)

4. Twilight has an inventive plan, to wait until the Equinox is in stable orbit, then disconnect all the archival servers and temporarily wire them through a portable computer. This will prevent another (even accidental) camping trip, while still following the machine’s instructions. 

(Certainty 180 required)