//------------------------------// // Chapter 88 // Story: Voyage of the Equinox // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Twilight gets air, Sunset fixes the Equinox 43% “I’m not happy you left her up here,” Spike’s voice said over the radio, following Twilight through the halls towards the docking bay. She moved quite slowly, both from the lack of gravity and the bulky EVA suit that she wore. “I don’t trust her yet. Fluttershy is too kind to stop her if she tries anything we don’t want her to.” “Sunset isn’t as bad as she used to be,” Twilight muttered, rounding the corner towards the docking bay. She was momentarily floored by what she saw—bits of broken glass and bent metal floated in the stillness. Twilight slowed as she approached the jagged gap, torn with jagged teeth. And on the other side—Proximus. The huge ring was down there, passing just below the Equinox at this moment. She could see its many lights glowing even now, surviving even the death of the civilization that had built them. Drifting down towards it, not far now but growing further with every second—was the Prospector. If that ship got away, they would all die. “You don’t know that,” Spike argued. “The last time we saw her she was storming away from the Academy and flying off for the rim. We don’t know what happened since then.” “No,” she admitted. “But we don’t have a choice. The Equinox has been blown to Tartarus. Fluttershy isn’t a mechanic, she is. Who else do you suggest fixes her?” “Not her anymore,” Spike said, though there was something just a little nervous about his voice. “It might bother you to see that hull breach, captain, but I felt it. I can feel it now. I’m dying. Just… slowly.” “Not if we get the crew back,” she said. “We can fix it. Maybe fix you too. Node is great at making bodies. Maybe she could make you a robotic dragon to live in instead of the ship.” “Sure,” Spike said, exasperated. “If you want to tinker with the central computer to try and extract me. The virus dismantled everything in here, captain. I wish I could show you the way I can see it. The old Mainframe is now just a small fraction of my capabilities, a negligible percentage. I don’t know if my mind would fit into a single, fragile body. I don’t know if I would want to try…” “Twilight, Spike! I, uh… I’m at the first life support junction. You said you were going to walk me through this?” Sunset’s voice came in over the shipboard general channel. Twilight would switch away from it as soon as she could. Just not yet. “Spike will,” she promised. “I’m about to jump.” “Good luck,” she said. “Don’t miss.” Twilight gritted her teeth, edging up towards the ragged opening. “Get me a rangefinder on the Prospector, Spike. I need to know everything you can tell me.” “Trajectory 101 x 45 x 02, three meters per second. Range, eight thousand forty meters.” Twilight closed her eyes, focusing all her attention on the Prospector. She was familiar enough with the craft, though not enough to risk ignoring its position entirely. She calculated her trajectory, risked a single peek through her eyes—then jumped. Can Twilight teleport safely? Failure? Twilight takes 3 points of bashing damage from magical feedback. Is she sent to the wrong destination? Yes. Random Event: (Neutral) The Vengeance of Opulence Twilight jolted briefly as the pain surged through her, the pain of a failed spell. She opened her eyes, brushing away condensed moisture from the outside of her helmet with the back of one leg. Her head pounded, and the concentration for spellcasting momentarily eluded her. “Twilight to Equinox, come in. I bucked it up.” No response, not even static. She straightened, realizing with horror something she should’ve noticed instantly: there was gravity here. She rose instantly, clearing away the rest of the teleportation condensation away. Twilight was standing in a massive vaulted space, like the inside of the largest planetarium ever constructed. The buck am I? “Twilight to Equinox, come in.” Again there was no response, just her own voice echoing in her helmet. She leaned to one side, lifting the sensor panel up so she could see it. Her temperature gauge, atmospheric sensors, hazard detectors, were all in the green. Against all odds, Twilight had teleported from orbit to somewhere with gravity, air, and heat. Where in Celestia’s name am I? Twilight stumbled forward, towards a raised stone shape not far away. There were metal controls along its top surface, a little high for a pony to reach but possible for an Alicorn. Twilight approached them, touching the largest, most welcoming-looking button. The dark ceiling lit up in a gigantic projection of the Proximus System. There was the distant star, familiar yellow and far away. Proximus A the rocky hulk too close to it, and just beside them—Proximus B, so huge in the sky she might as well be landing there. That wasn’t the most interesting thing she saw, though. This map had the ships too. The Equinox was there, near the little ring and flashing with red indicators. And near the more distant Proximus C, another structure so close to the gas giant it had sunk into its upper atmosphere. Something was lurking there, an intricate metallic skin that floated along a denser layer of gas like a sailing ship. Twilight took a few photos with her suit’s camera, taking in everything she could see. There was more. Something else was down there in the gas, docked with the station. It wasn’t quite as large, though the shape of it was far more familiar. She’d seen the patterns suggested once, during a budgetary meeting on interstellar colonization. Guess the Empire built one of their Biosphere ships after all. Does Twilight hear attackers coming? No. Is Twilight alone? Critical yes. Twilight looked around, up at the massive projection and the incredibly advanced construction, and knew instantly where she had to be. Teleporting down to Proximus B would certainly kill her without the right precautions in her spell. But somehow, against all odds, she was on the orbital ring, trapped outside radio contract while the meager supply of air on the Equinox slowly ran out. What should she do? 1. Escape as quickly as possible. As fascinating as all this is, it doesn’t matter if we suffocate. 2. Figure out how to use the computer. There’s a wealth of information in here. How did that ship get here? What is that station? I’ll make it tell me. 3. Explore the ring. We have a little time. We could pump our air out of here instead of flying all the way down to Proximus B. 4. Teleport straight out. I know this station isn’t twenty kilometers tall. Jump straight up, and I’m back in space. I can find my way from here. [dangerous] (Certainty 230 required.)