The brief events in the confines of Obsidian’s quarters had triggered silent alarms of smoke and heat sensors, alerting the command centre and damage control teams. Within moments, a small group with fire-fighting equipment found themselves investigating the cause, and subsequently, Obsidian and Glare ended up providing a summary of the magical incident to Quasar and Eclipse in the command centre.
“Well, that’s new,” the amused Captain commented, not bothering to upright his seat during the explanation. “So you’re basically saying it was like magic on steroids or something?”
“A gross oversimplification, but”—Glare shrugged—“sure, magic on steroids. Sir.”
“You know, a discovery like this might be worth passing on to our research division,” Eclipse suggested. Unlike the Captain, he stood in front of Obsidian and Glare, listening intently to the curious phenomenon. “Might be able to figure out how to conjure up more powerful magic. Considering our upcoming escort assignment with Aurora, we have no foreseeable need for infiltration ops. We could get them transferred for the duration of the mission.” Looking to the Captain for approval, he received a nod, and turned to Obsidian and Glare once more. “I’ll give you the details later. Now, get your quarters fixed up and presentable.”
“Oh, one other question, Chief,” the Captain called out to the changeling as he and Glare made for an exit. “You said you gave some of your stores of emotional energy to the Deckhoof. So is that like the changeling equivalent of taking somepony out to dinner?”
It was at that point Obsidian truly appreciated a changeling’s ability to conceal a blush, though Glare found herself at a severe disadvantage. Without missing a beat, Obsidian replied, “I think a more suitable analogy would be treating her to a home-cooked meal, sir.”
A wheezy laugh left the Captain. “Didn’t know your kind had a sense of humour. Alright, get out of here.”
Beet red, Glare retreated in a hurry. Obsidian followed, rolling his eyes. So much for not mentioning this to others.
“Welcome aboard Aurora,” an orange-coated unicorn greeted Obsidian and Glare shortly after a team of Aurora’s unicorns teleported the pair on board. “Commodore Corona. I serve as a member of Fleet Intelligence, though my secondary duties include overseeing Aurora’s research division. If you’ll follow me, I’d like to get started right away.”
Dismissing the unicorns that teleported Obsidian and Glare onto Aurora, Corona left the teleportation compartment with the pair in tow. The trio made their way up several decks, passing many crew that gave the three a wide berth.
Glare looked back at all the crew who avoided them. “What’s their problem?” She asked Corona. “Why were they all going out of their way to avoid us?”
“You mean aside from the fact that they’re all afraid of changelings?” Obsidian answered dryly.
“Oh. Right.”
“Chief, I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a contributing factor, but Amarok’s crew have started to earn a bit of a reputation throughout the fleets,” Corona explained.
Obsidian raised an eyebrow. “A reputation? For what? We haven’t even had the chance to earn one.”
“Given the unconventional nature of your ship’s operation, others think you’re all some secretive master assassins,” Corona explained, a hint of mockery behind her words. “It’s juvenile, I know, but a nickname has caught on pretty quickly. Everyone has started to refer to you and your fellow crew as the Silent Hunters.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Well, look at how the rest of our fleets operate. We go in loud and hard,” Corona clarified. “Even tactics involving strategic positioning and concealment end up with all guns blazing. Same applies for super-capital ships fitted with older cloak generators. Amarok on the other hoof? You guys can wipe out an entire fleet from inside or out, and leave no trace of your involvement.”
“Do you ponies not wait for something to prove itself, before giving it a reputation?”
Corona shrugged. “Meh. Just take the compliment and live up to it.”
“Doubt the two pegasi in my squad could live up to the silent part,” Obsidian scoffed. “They won’t shut up.”
“I’m aware of your squad-mates, Chief. They remind me of a pair I used to work with during the Harmony campaign.”
“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”
Corona did not answer immediately. “I suppose that remains to be seen. Capability was never in question. Attitude and mannerisms on the other hoof … ”
Arriving one deck above the hangar, the three continued heading aft of the ship, coming to a stop at a large pair of blast doors. Obsidian watched the red-maned pony as she swiped her VMUI over the nearby reader.
As two sets of doors slowly parted, Obsidian noted their excessive thickness, “What are you keeping in here that requires such security?”
“Security isn’t the issue. You have now entered Aurora’s research division. This entire section is designed to be isolated from the rest of the ship. It is self-contained, shielded from outside interference, and heavily armoured against internal catastrophes. Explosions, bio-hazards, chemical corrosives, you name it. If for whatever reason a threat cannot be contained, we could jettison ourselves to save the rest of the ship, without compromising the ship’s armour or pressure hull.”
As the three pressed on, Glare focused on the nearest room they passed. Looking through the window, she found several ponies and griffons in lab coats and gas masks around a fume cupboard, though with them obscuring Glare’s line of sight, she could not tell what they were working on. However, a glance at the room’s closed door revealed several large warning signs, labelled ‘spontaneously combustive’, ‘toxic’, and ‘corrosive’.
“What could be dangerous enough to warrant jettisoning an entire research lab?” Obsidian continued questioning Corona. “As opposed to just isolating it, that is.”
“Have you ever heard of an entity called the Beast? No? A long time ago, a Hiigaran mining vessel came across an object contaminated with a techno-organic subversion entity. Not that they knew what it was of course, but when it was brought aboard, the entity spread, rapidly hijacking both technology and flesh, resulting in a”—Corona shuddered—“gruesome, horrific death. The audio recordings still give me nightmares to this day, and I believe Princess Luna has visited them frequently enough for us to be considered close friends. Anyway, the infected module was jettisoned before the Beast spread, saving the rest of the mining vessel.”
Glare had been too busy inspecting the rest of the research division to listen in on Corona’s conversation. As the group moved across a small atrium, she looked up to find multiple decks littered with offices, labs, and fabrication facilities. One of the smaller rooms nearby contained a multicultural collection of crew, with at least thirty large sets of blueprints depicting what Glare assumed was a ship design. A pair of griffons appeared to be in a heated argument over some feature or component, evident by one continually pointing a talon at a particular part of the design’s flying saucer-like chassis.
Obsidian however, continued his discussion. “Taking over technology, huh? I guess it makes sense you’d want to keep such a thing contained where it could be ejected easily. So what happened to this Beast?”
“It left countless dead across the galaxy, but was eventually destroyed by that same mining vessel. Modifications to ships ensured immunity to further infections,” Corona finished, just in time to enter an empty room devoid of anything at its centre, with workbenches and various lab apparatuses against the walls. “Anyway, that’s all ancient history. We are here to see what you two have stumbled upon. Please, have a seat over there. Now, I would like the two of you to repeat the same actions you made in the time leading up to your little discovery.”
The pair did so. As they got into position, Corona kept a cautious distance while donning a lab coat, and a pair of safety goggles from a nearby workbench. Obsidian turned to Glare. “You ready?”
“Yeah, feed me.”
“Please”—Obsidian cringed—“don’t ever say that again.” Without waiting for a reply, he released a portion of his energy, and the unicorn received it, masking the ensuing bliss. Casting the augmented spell, Glare released the orb in the centre of the room, bathing it in golden light and once again knocking small loose objects away from the spell.
“Interesting,” Corona remarked as Glare stopped casting the spell, levitating fallen equipment from the floor and returning them to their original locations. “It might be premature, but from this brief observation, by channelling your energy into a unicorn, the recipient’s magical abilities appear to increase. I wonder if this also applies to the flight capabilities of pegasi, or the connection earth ponies have to nature … Or perhaps the tempers of griffons,” the officer laughed alone at her own joke.
Glare rose to assist with the clean-up. “See, I thought so too, but later I tried using a few random spells such as simple levitation, as well as a variety of defensive and offensive ones. I neither felt nor saw any difference with them. Only with my glyph spell was there any difference. I noticed I needed to put a little more effort into casting the spell than usual, but I didn’t think anything of it at the time.”
“Well, there goes my hypothesis.” Removing her goggles, Corona hung them back on a small hook. “Tell me more about this spell of yours. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it before.”
“When I was younger, I quickly developed a fascination for history, including ancient spells dating back to the pre-Equestrian tribes and earlier,” Glare began. “While it seems most magic referenced in history books lacked proper information to even make an educated guess as to how to cast them, there were a few spells, such as the one you just saw, with enough information. I can give you a list of the books if you'd like. Better yet, I’ve got copies of the books back aboard Amarok if you’d like to borrow them.”
“That would be much appreciated. Now if you’ll bear with me, I’m going to round up a few assistants to help with obtaining some readings. Get some cameras set up, a few sensors as well, then have you two repeat everything a few more times for consistent results. I’ll be back in a few minutes. There’s a pen and some paper in the drawer of the desk behind you. You can start on that list while I’m away.”
Glare stumbled out of the research division, exhausted. “Ugh, I am so done with this. I feel like my horn is about to fall off.”
“And I don’t think I was prepared to give away so much energy,” Obsidian replied, lumbering alongside the unicorn. “Any idea where the mess is? I need to raid the galley!”
“You’ll find it below the forward resource storage tank,” a soft voice answered around them.
“What? Who’s there?” Obsidian whipped around into a defensive stance, searching for the voice but finding none other than the unicorn beside him.
“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. My name is Fluttershy. I’m … sort of everywhere.”
“Flut—Wait, you’re the Fluttershy?” Glare called out.
“Umm … yes? I think. Maybe there’s somepony else with my name though?”
Obsidian leaned over. “Who’s Fluttershy?” he whispered.
Glare took a moment to recover from the shock. “Who’s Fluttershy? Seriously? How did you even get accepted here if you don’t know who the Elements of Harmony are?”
“Hey, I know of the Elements. Just not their names. Though come to think of it, I might have overheard her name the first time I was here. Off the top of my head, I also vaguely recall Apple … something, uhh, Dash Pinkie, and I know I definitely didn’t hear it right, but I’m going to go with Titty Sprinkle.”
“HEY!” Twilight’s voice boomed through the speakers along the corridor, causing Glare to jump. “For your information, it’s Twilight Sparkle!”
“And you forgot me,” Rarity joined in.
“Who?” Obsidian asked, in an apathetic tone.
“Rarity!”
“Whatever,” Obsidian raised his voice in response, before turning back to Glare. “So this Fluttershy, and those others are the ponies from that supercarrier Harmony, then?”
“We are,” Fluttershy answered for Glare. “But that was a long time ago. Now, would you like me to light the way to the mess deck for you?”
Glare tilted her head. “Light the way?”
Instead of explaining, Fluttershy chose to show the two what she meant. A line of tiny blue lights along the sides of the ceiling trailed away, illuminating a path towards the duo’s destination.
“Huh. Neat,” Obsidian commented. “Thanks, I guess.”
“You’re very welcome. If you’re quick enough, you might be able to reach the deck in time and head to the observation area before we exit hyperspace.”
“Any idea what we’re supposed to do now?” Obsidian leaned his back against a table and stared outside the observation window at the black hole cluster surrounding them.
Glare joined the changeling, levitating a bowl of salad beside her. “No clue. Somepony is supposed to come get us at some point, but it would have been nice if we were told when. Guess we’ve got nothing better to do than laze around for a bit.”
“Beats cleaning duty or security detail. Can’t complain about that.” Draining an entire pitcher of iced tea, Obsidian swirled the remaining contents of ice and lemon slices.
“I suppose not.”
Idly crunching on some remaining cubes of ice, Obsidian took in the view. “Where do you think we are, anyway?”
“Let’s see … Intense light from multiple accretion disks, jets of ionised gas emerging perpendicularly from event horizons … There’s only one place any galaxy would have such objects; the galactic centre. We’re at Balcora.”
“What are we doing in the galactic centre?”
Glare shrugged, swallowing her mouthful of vegetables. “Maybe the research crew want to gather data from the black holes?”
Obsidian squinted at a dot off in the distance. “Or, maybe we’re here for that thing.”
“What thing?”
The changeling pointed. “Right there.”
“I don’t—oh I see it now. Is that a ship?”
“Looks like it. We must be here for a meeting, or some sort of exchange.”
“At Balcora? Only our hyperspace cores can get any ship in or out of this place, and if I recall, the Hiigarans deactivated Balcora Gate when they decided to experiment with the gate’s power sources.” Glare frowned, squinting at the object as they drew closer toward it. Moments later, her face lit up in realisation. “Wait, no, that ship! That ship must be the Pride of Hiigara!”
“You’re going to have to explain a few things for me there.”
“The Pride of Hiigara was the Hiigaran mothership used during the Vaygr campaign many years ago. The campaign revolved around a race between the Hiigarans and Vaygr to secure a powerful ancient ship called Sajuuk, abandoned in this very system. After defeating the Vaygr, the Hiigarans abandoned the Pride, transferring their hyperspace cores and all crew over to Sajuuk, so they could hyperspace out. Seriously, you need to brush up on your history.”
“I don’t think we covered Hiigaran history in training. Or I wasn’t paying attention. Regardless, couldn’t they have just towed the mothership through hyperspace with them? I assume they didn’t just abandon the rest of their fleet.”
“Of course not. There just wasn’t enough power to take two mothership-mass vessels through hyperspace. The hyperspace cores are powerful, but even they have limits. They could probably tow heavier and higher quantities of ships under normal circumstances, but considering the super-massive black holes around us, I’d guess the immense gravity would be a hindrance. I’m not exactly well-versed in quantum physics, but I know gravity causes issues with hyperspace. That’s why gravity well generators and hyperspace inhibitors work at all. Stars and black holes are essentially natural grav-wells.”
“Huh.” Obsidian glanced at the remaining ice in his glass. Placing it against the table, another thought came to him. “Wait, I thought Sajuuk was that supposed god Harmony defeated.”
“Correct, though the ship was his namesake. This distinction seems to confuse everypony. Even more so, considering the final events of the Harmony campaign resulted in defeating Sajuuk in his ship, Sajuuk, which was an identical but different Sajuuk to the Sajuuk the Hiigarans acquired in Balcora.”
“That’s a lot of Sajuuk.”
“No kidding.”
The pair fell into silence, watching over the course of several minutes a group of ships dispatched from Aurora that made their way towards the derelict mothership. After a while, Obsidian changed topics. “You know, you don’t fit the profile of a typical soldier.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. You just seem so … out of place here. A fish out of water.”
“Well, I’m not big on hurting others, so you’re not wrong. I hate it here. As amazing as it is to be surrounded by such technology and see things like this”—Glare gestured at the view—“I’m only here because I had no other decent job offering. There’s not much of a demand for this,” her tone changed as she pointed towards her cutie mark. Sighing, she looked outside again. “They didn’t even offer me a more uhh, peaceful Navy role. ‘Operational requirements’, they called it. But I couldn’t turn it down. My little sister is … not doing so well. She’s stuck in the hospital with no signs of improvement, and I needed a way to support my family's expenses.”
“What’s the illness, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“The Doctors can’t say for certain, but they suspect myelitis, or some variation of it.”
“What’s that?”
“Has something to do with lesions on her nerve cells, blocking signals to her muscles.”
“Paralysis?”
“Sort of. It was a slow progression, so we didn’t think much of it at first. Whatever it is, it’s making her a tiny bit worse each week.” Glare sniffed, looking down as she wiped an eye. “Medication is slowing it down, but they’re just symptomatic treatments. My dad is using his life savings to pay hospital bills, medication, medication to counter side effects of medication, and he’s even gone so far as to track down famous doctors from other nations, all while supporting five others, excluding myself. But what he’s doing can’t be sustainable. He’s a wreck, working non-stop. When he found out what I was going to do … I think he’s disowned me.”
“For joining the Navy? I know he’s your dad, but he sounds like a buzzing prick to me.”
“I can’t fault him on his beliefs. My family and I have always abhorred violence. Never harmed a single thing in my life, and hope I never have to, but I thought—I hoped the money made from this job would help sustain my sister and ease the pressure on my dad. Maybe somepony will come up with a better treatment, or—or a cure.” Pausing, she wiped her other eye. “Advancements like this happen all the time, right? She just needs to hold on.”
“What about your mother? What does she think about all of this?”
“She died during the Canterlot invasion.”
“Oh. Sorry I brought that up. Believe me when I say it was never our intention to harm any civilians. The whole thing was—there were accidents and … I’m not exactly good at saying the right things in times like these.”
Glare sighed again. “Like I said before, you were just soldiers taking orders. Anyway, I appreciate you listening. Perhaps a more pleasant conversational topic is in order.”
“Excuse me,” the soft, omnipresent voice of Fluttershy returned again. “Sorry to bother you again. Corona wishes to speak with you both back in the research lab.”
“First of all, I want to thank you both again for putting such effort into assisting us earlier on. Come, come, I’ve got some interesting information here!” Corona ushered Glare and Obsidian into her office. Pouring herself a mug of tea from a nearby brewer, she turned to the others. “Can I get either of you a drink? Tea? Coffee? Water?”
“We’re fine, thank you,” Glare declined. “We just came from the mess deck.”
“Alright, I’ll get straight to it then. As soon as we were finished with our session earlier on, I sent a message back to Equestria to see if somepony there could round up a few leading figures on history and magic. I may have worded my message a little too urgently in my excitement, so before I knew it, I was sending messages back and forth with a few Doctors.”
“Uhh, why would you contact a Doctor about history?” Obsidian interrupted, visibly confused.
“She means Doctors of history and magic,” Glare clarified.
Corona nodded. “Precisely. So surprisingly, I managed to get a few answers already. Are you familiar with windigos? No? Well, according to the ancient scholar Clover the Clever, they were winter spirits that fed off fighting and hatred. Sort of like the opposite to a changeling feeding off love, now that I think about it.”
Obsidian raised a hoof slightly. “That’s a partially inaccurate statement. Love is a more potent preference, but any emotion will do for us.”
“Well, whatever the case,” Corona continued, “In early recorded history, windigos were more common before the unification of Equestria, and the events leading up to that moment. From the little we could piece together, fire and light were effective forms of defence against these creatures of ice and darkness, with the former used by the earth and pegasus tribes, and the latter used by the unicorn tribe.”
Corona started up a projector. “Ignoring the ancient celestial magic our Princesses possess, few ancient spells are known, and even fewer have been successfully cast in some form since those ages. Only two, to be exact. Historians have referred to them simply as ‘primal light’, and the ‘light glyph’. I believe you are familiar with the latter.”
“Light glyph?” Obsidian hummed. “Well, at least the name is straight and to the point. Sounds a little lacklustre though,” he commented, earning a glare from Glare.
“Lacklustre, perhaps,” Corona agreed, “But if the sources are accurate, you’re looking at a spell that is supposedly as hot as a star’s photosphere!”
“And you’ve been using it as a portable heater,” Obsidian quipped.
“So what about this other spell?” Glare ignored the changeling. “This primal light one.”
“Now this one is interesting.” Corona displayed several images on the projector, containing scans of textbook pages. “A purely offensive spell able to burn a clean hole through any known substance. Or at least, any known substance at that time. Some sources even state the surrounding air has caught fire as a result of casting such a spell, though these reports seem inconsistent and in my opinion, improbable. Given the right conditions, perhaps the surrounding atmosphere might undergo fusion, but still highly unlikely. We’re getting sidetracked, though. That’s irrelevant.”
“What does it look like?”
“The spell? Got a picture in one of these—ah! Here. You can see a straight beam of light from the caster to the windigo. The beam appears to be surrounded by a double-helix, though whether that’s an artistic recreation, or if there is some higher purpose to the helix is unknown.”
Obsidian stared at the projection. “Didn’t you say you could cast a directed beam of light, Glare? What if it’s like the glyph spell, and you’ve simply been using an under-powered version of a solar cannon as a spotlight?”
Glare was unsure. “I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”
“I’m quite curious, myself. Let’s meet where we conducted our previous tests.” Rising from her seat, Corona made for the exit. “I had a solid block of resource units stored away somewhere. We can use it as a target for you. Give me a moment. In the meantime, you two can get ready and carry out your energy transfer thing.”
A few minutes passed after Obsidian and Glare returned to their former testing grounds. Corona alerted the two to her presence by wheeling in a silvery-blue cube chained to a heavy-duty hoist. An almost deafening noise caused all three to jump and cover their ears, when Corona accidentally released the hydraulic arm’s pressure too quickly, smashing the chained cube onto the ground. “Sorry, sorry, that was not intentional. It’s easy to forget resource units are almost twenty-three tonnes per cubic meter. Now then, shall we begin?”
Facing the metallic cube, Glare aimed her horn at the target. Furrowing her brow in concentration, her horn lit up for only a fraction of a second before it released a perfect replica of the textbook’s image. Bathing the room in gold, the spell flashed into existence, connecting the unicorn to her target with a resounding boom that shook the lab. As quickly as it came, the spell faded half a second later, leaving only a mild ringing in everyone’s ears.
“Well, well, it seems you have revived another ancient spell. Let’s see what the results are …” Corona swiped several instruments from a nearby workbench and crouched down at the sizeable crater in the cube. “Fascinating! You’ve completely vaporised the material. Perfect circular cross-section, parabolic tapering at the end. Suggests energy density of beam is highest at its centre. Hmm … Point one-one meter radius, point nine-six meter depth, give or take. Surrounding material is warm, but not hot. This is amazing! A little frightening as well. A few repeated strikes, and you could easily pierce the pressure hull of this vessel.”
Obsidian snickered. “Probably a good thing we tested that now, than to have you find out by blasting a hole through a book in the galley, huh Glare?”
“In more ways than one,” Corona replied. “I—huh, the room warmed up as well, didn’t it? Will have to confirm that. Anyway, I’m needed on the bridge in half an hour. Would the two of you mind meeting me back here in … exactly four hours? I’d like to repeat some of our earlier tests with this second spell.”
Obsidian groaned, “Fine, but bring food. My energy has to come from somewhere. Doughnuts, cupcakes, anything with lots of sugar, preferably.”