Obsidian set his meal tray down beside Sparky. The lone diamond dog’s table had been the natural choice after receiving the usual stares and glares from other crew in the galley. The pair exchanged wordless nods, before Sparky continued to pick clean a chicken drumstick. Obsidian started with his own food; a large sushi platter from the griffon buffet, each with varying contents from salmon and crab sticks, to more pony-friendly variants such as carrot and avocado. Small dishs of soy sauce, pickled ginger, wasabi complemented the main course.
Having never tried the green paste, the changeling reacted with a quick shake of his head and a series of sniffs, reaching for his glass of water at lightning speed. Returning to the rest of his meal, he looked up at Sparky. “You know, I’ve got a theory about why you never talk,” Obsidian broke the silence after swallowing his next bite.
Raising an eyebrow, Sparky gave the changeling a sidelong glance, before shifting attention back to his meal.
Swallowing another piece of sushi, Obsidian continued. “It’s not that you physically can’t. That much is obvious. The Navy wouldn’t allow you to serve otherwise. So I wondered why you would choose not to talk. Are you antisocial? No, that can’t be it. You display so many signs of an extrovert, and I’ve never picked up on any boredom, anxiety, or anything suggesting you’d prefer to be elsewhere, really. Then I noticed something else. Something that has been a constant for you. Longing. And fear.”
Sparky stopped chewing. Though he did not face the changeling, he paid attention to what was being said.
“For most here, longing is to be expected. We all miss home, so I dismissed yours initially. Though why would you be living in a constant state of fear? Couldn’t be related to the risks of the Navy. You’re too relaxed. What if … you choose not to speak, but wish you could, because you’re afraid? Though what of? Did you say something once that caused you to take a vow of silence? Or is it a fear your voice might—”
Sparky thumped a clenched paw on the table, with just enough force to rattle the cutlery. He leaned over to the changeling. “Stay out of my head,” he spoke quietly. The low rumble caught Obsidian off-guard, causing him to flinch. “Have I made your damn day?” Without waiting for a reply, Sparky took his tray and deposited it in a rack of used trays. Taking one final look at the changeling, he left the galley.
Obsidian sat in silence until Sparky was out of sight. “Huh,” he huffed. Shrugging, he finished off the last few pieces of his meal, glancing at his VMUI for the time. Realising he still had half an hour before he was meant to report for his briefing, Obsidian took a second helping from the buffet.
The changeling’s ears swivelled towards familiar voices at the opposite end of the galley. Looking over, he found the pegasus twins engaged in conversation with a griffon at the other table. Before he could look away, one of the twins made eye contact and beckoned Obsidian over.
Grumbling, the changeling took his tray and approached. Swift raised his voice, “Oi Shift! Guess you owe me those bits. Bug pony here is more social than you thought.”
Obsidian watched as Shift flipped a couple of coins over to his brother. “You were betting whether I’d come here?”
Shift nodded. “Yep. Though technically, those bits aren’t yours just yet, Swift. He’s gotta sit down and have a chat with us first!”
Obsidian stared down at the twins and sighed. “Fine. Not like I’ve got anything else to do,” he muttered, seating himself beside the griffon and placing his tray down in front of him.
The griffon looked over at the contents of Obsidian’s tray. “Sushi, huh? Good choice. I’d probably avoid the ones with salmon, though. I think I was the one who made those, which is a bit concerning, since my duty ended a few hours ago. Might have to go crack some skulls in a minute.”
Obsidian looked at the food in question. The rice did seem dry. “So you’re the ship’s cook?” he asked, turning back towards the griffon.
“One of ‘em. Name’s Syzygy. Syz, if you like.”
“That’s an unusual name for a griffon.”
“Hah! We’ve known each other for less than a minute, and you figured that out faster than these two! Yeah, I was born in Equestria, growing up in Manehattan. Worked in the food industry most of my life, but you piqued my interest. Never catered for changelings before.”
“None you were aware of, most likely,” Obsidian stated. “So what are these two talking your ears off about?”
“We were just telling Syzzy about a coupl’a pranks we used to pull, back when we were with the royal guard,” Shift explained.
Obsidian hummed. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Uhh, because it’s us? Come on, what else would the two most hilarious comical geniuses talk about?”
The changeling chewed on another piece of sushi. Pausing, he pushed the food aside in his mouth. “Was that meant to be a joke?”
“Yeah, ha-ha. You want a joke? Hmm …” Shift paused, and looked up at the ceiling. After a few seconds, he looked back at Obsidian. “Alright, what’s the first step in treating a changeling who got shot?”
“Figuring out which holes to close up,” Obsidian answered flatly. “Real original.”
“Hey, that was quality material off the top of my head! Let’s see you come up with something on the spot, then.”
Obsidian folded his hooves. “Fine. What do you call a royal guard who was attacked with pepper spray?”
“What?”
“A seasoned veteran.”
Syzygy choked on a glass of water. While he spluttered and laughed, Shift merely frowned. “I don’t get it.”
“My turn!” Swift exclaimed. “What happens when Obsidian runs out of ammo?”
The changeling rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. I bludgeon the enemy with the stick up my flank?”
“Oh come on!”
“Obsidian is in the lead, three-nil,” Syzygy provided commentary. “What else you got, Obsidian?”
The changeling shrugged. “I don’t know. Uhh, what do Equestrians do upon entering a firefight?”
Shift groaned. “I swear, if you’re going to say we run away—”
“Well, I was going to say give the nearest griffon their ammo, but hey”—Obsidian shrugged—“your words.”
“Ouch. Alright, Swift’s up,” Syzygy announced. “How about something that isn’t changeling-related?”
“Easy.” Swift stood up, and placed his fore-hooves on the table. “Let’s bring out the big guns. Shift, don’t answer this one. How do you knock a diamond dog unconscious while he’s drinking water?”
After a few seconds of silence, Syzygy spoke up. “Okay, I’ll bite. How?”
An almost evil grin was plastered on Swift’s face when he answered, “Slam the toilet lid down on his head.”
“OH!” a surprised Syzygy shouted as he recoiled, “I think that might have juuuuust crossed the line.”
“I specialise in borderline jokes,” Swift proclaimed with pride. “And jokes that have gone well beyond the line. Besides, say what you want, but you loved that one, and you know it!”
“Guilty as charged. Now, what were you saying earlier on about some pranks?” Syzygy quickly changed topics.
Swift sat back down. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, it was pretty much a weekly thing for us. I mean, we started out small, but at some point, I think we just wanted to see how far we could take things.”
“I was gonna ask,” Syzygy started. “What was considered ‘small’ for you two?”
Swift tapped his chin. “Hmm. Well, there was the time this newbie joined our ranks. She was from the Wonderbolts Academy, and thought she was all that. We decided we’d take her down a peg with something stupid, and sent her on a fool’s errand to look for the I-D-ten-T form.”
Shift continued. “She searched for a solid hour, before we told her she’d been had. Everypony was in on it. Well, maybe not in on it, but they all just played along. Which was actually surprising, considering how bland most of the royal guard can be.”
“Wait, wait, you missed the best part,” Swift cut in. “By everypony, we mean, everypony. This pegasus was so freaked out about not being able to find something as simple as a piece of paper, because it might tarnish her reputation as a capable Wonderbolt. So she pulled aside a certain sun-raising alicorn Princess that happened to be visiting, and asked for her assistance.”
Syzygy snorted. “You’re joking!”
“And she played along, too!”
“Ha!”
“We were pissing ourselves when we found out! Anyway, what about you, cheese legs? Did anything fun in training?”
Finishing off the last item on his tray, Obsidian quickly swallowed. “I don’t do pranks.”
“Bah! Boring!” Swift waved a hoof in Obsidian’s direction. Sighting a particular officer that had entered the galley, he lowered his voice slightly. “So, here’s a question for you fellas. Anypony know what’s up with Sabre and that sword of his? He seems to be overly attached to that thing. D’ya think he goes to bed with it?”
“Ahh, I dunno, but I overheard some crew saying it’s enchanted,” said Syzygy. A shrug later, he added, “That being said, you tend to overhear some crazy things from the crew while you’re prepping food. We call it the galley talk. Hard to tell what’s true and what’s not.”
“So wait, what do you mean ‘enchanted’?” Shift asked. “What, like making it flaming or something?”
“Doubt it,” Obsidian interjected. “Do you have any idea how cliché a flaming sword is?”
Shift rolled his eyes. “Okay, now you’re just trying to be boring, aren’t you?”
“I’m just being realistic. There is no practical application of a sword that is on fire.”
“Oh yeah? Why not? They look pretty awesome if you ask me,” Swift retorted. “Besides, how can a flaming sword suck, when you’ve got zebras who can wield fire? I mean, have you seen Shadow work her magic?”
Syzygy raised a talon. “I think elemental magic is a little different to flaming swords. For one, enchantments aren’t monumentally powerful, whereas elemental magic is probably about as raw power as you can get.”
“Neeeeerd!” the twins droned in unison.
“You’re also assuming everything can be improved with magic,” the changeling explained. “To start with, any creature physically holding a sword on fire will likely burn themselves either by proximity, or through the handle. Even if you solved that with insulation, your targets aren’t going to remain in contact that long if they’re getting slashed, and a successful thrust would make a flaming enchantment superfluous anyway.”
“What if the flame was hot enough to make the sword glow?”
“Then a slash might not be as lethal from bleeding out, if the wound gets cauterised. Plus, the sword material is weakened if it's white-hot. Starts getting malleable. The last thing you want is a sword either bending and falling onto your body, or getting sliced when parried.”
Shift mirrored his brother’s disappointed expression. “So flames are completely pointless on swords and stuff?”
Obsidian hummed. “Perhaps not completely.” Getting up, his horn glowed. Shooting his wings out, his leading edge wing blades erupted with sustained fire. “I suppose you could use an illusory version as an intimidation or distraction tactic,” he explained, demonstrating by leaping into the air in a vertical corkscrew and dropping back down. A trail of fire followed, obscuring most of the changeling’s body, while the sound of fire rushing in the wind completed the illusion.
As Obsidian landed, Syzygy nodded. “Come on, guys. You have to admit that was neat.” Looking around, the griffon found the rest of the galley’s occupants were staring at Obsidian. “Heh, nice little audience you got yourself there.”
Obsidian shrugged. “Whatever. I still think it’s mostly pointless.” Extinguishing the flames, he sat back down.
“Yeah, but it could probably distract somepony long enough to throw them off guard,” Shift suggested. “Plus it did look a little intimidating. Oh, I know! You could use a scythe! Yeah, a flaming scythe!”
Obsidian looked at Shift with an unamused expression. “Do you even know what a scythe looks like?”
“Duh. It’s a long, curved blade on a long stick. That’s exactly what makes them intimidating. You look like the grim reaper! That, combined with you being a scary changeling, and—”
“Yes, and scythes are designed for cutting things like grass, with a thin blade angled for that purpose. Even if you made one suited for battle, there’s a reason why swords or wing blades are common. They work. They’re balanced and wielded easily. A scythe is just oversized, off-balance and impractical.”
“I never could get used to wing blades,” Syzygy commented.
“Neither could we,” Swift added. “Impairs flight performance, and you’re clanking around in those things. Seems counter-productive as an Infiltrator. Don’t know how you do it, battle bug.”
“That’s typically caused by an improper fit, but also poor design,” Obsidian remarked. “I’ve seen pegasus blades, and you could probably solve all the issues with custom fits for each individual wing, and replacing the metal hinges with jewel bearings.”
“Jewels? Like diamonds and sapphires and such?”
“Yes. The bearings have low friction without the need for lubricant, so they’re easier to maintain, and you won’t spend every second day cleaning grease from your blades. Due to their compressive strength, they can be smaller, allowing for a closer, more aerodynamic fit. Lastly, they can work in corrosive environments, without seizing up or breaking apart. Works well over a pressure suit.”
“Neat, I guess. Still, I feel like the blades just slow you down.”
“While true, proper training mitigates that.”
“Interesting,” Syzygy remarked. “So what kind of training do changelings have, then?”
“That would be classified information. However, if you ever need to keep your blade skills sharp, don a pair, find a hornet’s nest, and get them angry. I think you can figure out what to do from there.”
Shift gave Obsidian an incredulous look. “And I think you think we’re stupid for believing a word of what you just said.”
“You are, but I wasn’t lying. A hornet’s nest is the perfect way to test speed, accuracy, and the ability to deal with threats from every angle. That’s how we ‘lings do it. Unofficially, anyway. If you want to make a game of it, the winner is the one with the fewest stings.”
Shift shook his head. “You changelings are weird. You know that, right?”
“Bit rich, coming from you.”
“Takes one to know one, I guess.”
“Alright, this was … an interesting chat. I think I’ll go prepare for our briefing. I’ll see you two there,” Obsidian addressed the twins, before nodding at the griffon. “Syzygy.”
“Good meeting you, Obsidian,” Syzygy nodded back. “If you ever have some free time, I’d be interested in hearing about what changelings like to eat. I need a new challenge.”
“Uhh, sure.”
Watching the changeling deposit his tray before exiting the galley, Shift said to Syzygy, “I told you he was an unusual fella.”
“Seems alright to me. Could tell he wasn’t overly fond of either of you, though.”
“No idea why. We haven’t done anything to him. Unless … You think it might have something to do with the Canterlot invasion?”
Syzygy shrugged. “Could be. Might explain his animosity to ponies. I’d suggest not bringing it up with him though. Could be a delicate topic.”
“Well, what do you suggest, then? We kinda have to get along if we’re going to be on the same team.”
“Sorry Shift, but I’m afraid that’s beyond my area of expertise.”
“Infiltrators. This is the Koshiir-Ra Crossing; a popular hub of standing hyperspace gates,” Eclipse started, pointing at the nearby projection. Displayed were eight blue squares in a circular arrangement, and a marker measuring a four kilometre radius. “Transiting civilians and smaller independent vessels lacking their own hyperdrives would use hubs like these to move between major parts of the galaxy. Recently however, we’ve had reports of two Vindicators and a Rancor circling the gates, lobbing ordnance at arriving vessels. So far, every attacked vessel has managed to reach its destination gate, but with major hull ruptures.”
“I’m surprised all vessels have actually survived,” Shadow commented.
“While the vessels have arrived at their destinations, they’ve all suffered significant crew casualties,” Eclipse clarified. “It seems the Raiders are purposefully holding back, making their presence obvious. Therefore, we suspect this may be a trap intended to lure a larger defending fleet into an ambush.”
“It’s a guaranteed trap,” Obsidian commented with complete confidence. “Why else would only two light cruisers be escorting a carrier?”
Eclipse nodded. “My thoughts exactly. There may be additional ships waiting to hyperspace in from nearby, or there may be cloaked escorts. We know Raiders occasionally deploy Assassins; essentially Daggers with basic cloaking. This could be one of those situations. Regardless, rather than risking an entire fleet with a direct attack, we’re going to flip the tables and deal with the situation using our own deception instead.”
“So … seeding mission?” Swift spoke up.
“Seeding mission. If significant numbers of enemy reinforcements arrive after a torpedo attack, we may not have enough remaining to deal with them. By that point, the element of surprise for a seeding is lost, requiring us to retreat, or call in our own, risking other ships. Therefore, we will send you in first. If additional forces arrive afterwards, Amarok can deal with them.”
Eclipse took a moment to project a new image. Appearing in front of the group was a map of the area, with the eight gates and three vessels labelled accordingly. Apart from a few small clusters of asteroids, the area around the Koshiir-Ra Crossing was completely barren.
“We will insert you into the Vindicators first, followed by the Rancor. Your primary objective is to lace each vessel’s power plant with demolitions. Additionally, the cruisers will require extra charges in their ammo holds. Before extraction from each vessel, we will send additional charges through for you to line the inner hull with. We need a large enough hole in each ship to send a torpedo through, to maximise their effectiveness. From our end, we will target your insertion points and synchronise torpedo impacts to ensure the most accurate hits possible, once you have completed your objectives.”
Shift let out a long ‘ahh’ when he finally understood the objectives. “That explains why we need to hit the power plants, yeah? Keep them on predictable headings, since the hole made by the inner hull explosives won’t be much bigger than the torpedo itself. Gonna be hard to get that aligned properly though.”
“Hey, that kinda reminds me of my first time!” Swift added, oblivious to the rolling eyes, groans, facehoofs and head shakes around him. “So we uhh, we’re gonna need lots of explosives for this, aren’t we?” he grinned, his eager expression mirroring his brother.
“Indeed, though BPSes will not be necessary. GCUs will suffice, so that should leave you more mobile. Sparky, Shadow”—Eclipse turned to the pair—“You will carry most of the demolitions, leaving the others with standard equipment. Ensure you set your timers so all vessels are destroyed simultaneously. This should disable the vessels and weaken them enough to destroy with only one, maybe two torpedoes each. Now gear up. Infiltration in forty-five minutes. Dismissed.”
Amarok continued to sail through the empty void towards the Koshiir-Ra Crossing. In the command centre, a calm stillness filled the air as the crew prepared to burn retrograde, though instead of hardened expressions, many of the occupants seemed bored instead.
Eyes scanning left to right on his screens once again, Captain Quasar stretched and broke the silence, speaking aloud for the rest of the command crew. “So, you know how the Hiigarans have always had this theme of using crew as their mothership’s living core? What are the bets they’ll do it again, now that we’ve given them their ship back?”
“I’d say it’s pretty likely,” Sierra replied.
Sabre joined in on the conversation. “Tradition, I assume?”
Shifting focus away from her systems, Sierra turned towards the Lieutenant. “I’m sure that would factor in somehow, but a living core is simply better. You have access to everything in your mind. Internal and external ship cameras and sensors, data links from networked ships in a fleet, the ability to issue orders, plus so much more. It allows you to make informed decisions in a fast and efficient manner.”
Crux found the courage to speak up. “That doesn’t make sense, ma’am. Computers do so much more, so much faster. If anything, where’s all that artificial intelligence technology I’ve heard so much about?”
“The biggest problem with computers versus flesh is that while computers can perform complex mathematical work in fractions of a second, they’re limited to just that,” Sierra explained. “We can recognise patterns and deal with things of a subjective nature. That is why computers will always serve as an aid, but never make the final call on anything. It’s also why skirmishes will never just be about who has the most advanced AI.”
“If a living core is so great, why wasn’t Amarok designed with one?” Sabre retorted. “You’d think with this destroyer being so modern and all, we’d have one.”
“Amarok is not a command ship, Lieutenant. Besides, I don’t think becoming the core of a ship is an easy task. I’d imagine there would be a lot of training involved.”
The Lieutenant shrugged. “I don’t know, the Elements of Harmony seemed to cope just fine.”
“The ancient hyperspace cores are an exception,” Sierra explained. “Neither we nor the Hiigarans have figured out the technology behind downloading the knowledge of using those devices directly into one’s mind. I think if we knew how to do that, the time required to train anypony for … well, anything, would take hours or days.”
Sabre hummed. “Would help with our crew shortages, wouldn’t it?”
“Contacts on short-range sensors, Captain. Bearing zero-four-four, inclination negative zero-two,” Crux interrupted, as several dots sprung up on his sensor manager. “Ship profiles appear to be Taiidan. Update on hostiles: The two Vindicators are leading the Rancor, bearing three-one-eight, inclination zero-four.”
“Noted, Specialist,” the Captain replied, adjusting himself in his seat. “Lieutenant Azimuth, plot an intercept course for the lead Vindicator. Ensign Sierra, set drives to two-G until midpoint when she’s ready.”
“Two-G to midpoint,” Sierra confirmed. “Perfect example right there. A living core commanding a fleet would have received all details instantly and carried out appropriate actions in less than a tenth of the time it took us to communi—”
“Later, Ensign,” Quasar cut in.
“Right. Apologies, Captain.”
After performing a quick calculation, Azimuth also spoke up. “Intercept point is approximately one-seven-hundred klicks away. Based on our current acceleration, we should arrive in ten minutes, assuming equivalent retro burn at mid.”
“Captain?” Crux raised a hoof hesitantly. “Should we inform the Taiidan fleet of our presence? They still believe they’re alone here.”
“Let’s hold off on that for now. I know they’re supposedly the ‘good’ Taiidani”—Quasar air quoted—“but I’d rather not advertise the existence of stealth destroyers to the galaxy just yet. Just keep an eye out for any unexpected contacts.”
“Understood, sir.”
“So, here’s something I don’t understand,” Shift called out, fidgeting with the harness on his seat while Amarok closed in on the Raider vessels.
“We can write books on what you don’t understand, and fill a library,” Obsidian muttered. Eyes closed, his fore-hooves rested atop his stomach while he waited for the ship to arrive at its destination.
Shift continued, unaware of the comment which gave Glare a quiet giggle. “Not that I’m complaining about being an Infiltrator, but if we’ve got the technology to send teams into ships with this infiltration tunnel thingy, why not drop some bombs into the ships instead?”
“Oh, easy,” Swift replied. “Because that—” he paused, contemplating the possibility. “Yeah, why can’t we do that?”
“We can,” Eclipse spoke up. “It’s actually a proposed upgrade for Amarok.”
“Neat.” Shift squirmed in his seat to face the officer. “When do we get it?”
“No idea. Could be months, if not more. All I know is that it’s basically going to be a mine launcher, using the infiltration tunnel technology as its delivery method. Likely mounted somewhere under the brig deck with the smaller Type-A mines used by minelayer ‘vettes. Still, the insertion beam can only reach a few metres into a ship, so you six are more effective when you hit the heart of a vessel.”
“How does that make sense though? Our demolitions are tiny, compared to those mines.”
Shadow chimed in. “You’re aware your demolitions are antimatter charges, as opposed to the compressed plasma in mines, right?”
Shift shrugged. “All I know is little box make big boom. So if these charges have a higher yield, why not use them for the mines? Hay, why not use them for the torpedoes?”
“Antimatter is dangerous,” Eclipse continued. “Extremely dangerous. Twenty-six milligrams of antimatter will release the same energy as a megaton explosion. Your charges hold even less for safety reasons.”
“Then why does each charge weigh more like two kilos?”
“Almost the entire weight of your charges are from their power and containment units, plus multiple backups.”
“Huh. Suddenly, I no longer feel safe carrying these.”
“If it makes you feel better, I’ve never felt safe with you carrying them, either,” Obsidian quipped.
“Guess we better hope our charges don’t get hit by anything,” Swift remarked. “So Clippy, you think they’ll ever improve the tunnel tech to put us out of the job then?”
“Eh, I can’t see that happening any time soon, especially with anything involving mine tech. Last thing we need is a faulty mechanism causing mines to jam in launchers, or randomly go active while still aboard. Those same problems plagued the entire line of early Taiidan minelayers, when the technology was rushed into service. Don’t worry Shift, you’re not going to be out of the job any time soon. Even if your role was made redundant, I’m sure we can find you a job cleaning the outer hull or something.”
A couple of the Infiltrators laughed. Eclipse however looked down at the hoofrest on his right, when he heard a beep, and a message indicating a call from the command centre. Tapping on the screen he answered, “XO, briefing room.”
Crux’s voice came through the seat’s speakers. “Sir, the Captain wanted me to inform you that we’re about to make our final approach on the first Raider target. Acceleration is now limited to safe levels.”
“Understood. Let him know the Infiltrators will be ready.” Eclipse ended the conversation and turned to the others. “Okay, you heard him. Grab your gear and get ready.”
Turning to approach the first Vindicator from behind, Amarok matched the vessel’s heading, and nudged itself sideways until it aligned with the target’s stern. Picking up speed, the destroyer continued, manoeuvring to the vessel’s underside. As Amarok’s nose passed by the engines, it banked, rotating until infiltration tunnel faced the Vindicator’s hull. Nearing the insertion point, the destroyer slowed to match velocity.
In the command centre, Crux verified Amarok was at the correct location, and sent a discreet sensor ping through the target hull. Though the pulse’s power was limited to avoid detection, it had been sufficient to determine no threats in the immediate vicinity of insertion. Satisfied, Crux forwarded the sensor and insertion targeting data to Eclipse.
Standing ready for the past ten minutes, Eclipse received the data and activated the tunnel, clearing the Infiltrators for immediate insertion.
Eclipse sat beside the infiltration tunnel, a book resting over his face while he waited for the team of six to return once more. Their first target had been successfully laced with explosives without incident, and based on the lack of activity, he assumed that was true for the second target as well. Regardless, the officer grew slightly anxious, given the Infiltrators had been aboard the second Vindicator for over two and a half hours; almost half an hour longer than they had been aboard the first.
Minutes after the thought crept into his mind, a tone sounded from his seat. Tapping the relevant buttons on the touch-screen hoofrests, he was relieved when he heard Shadow’s voice requesting extraction. Wasting no time, Eclipse activated the tunnel, throwing several bags of demolitions through and standing ready to greet the Infiltrators as they returned.
Eclipse grinned. “You’re late, Commander.”
“We were stuck in hiding for a while,” Shadow explained. “Crew of twelve would not leave the area. They were unarmed, but appeared to be inspecting or repairing some equipment. Someone would have noticed them missing if we took them out.”
Eclipse nodded. “Good call.” Reaching for the touch-screen on the nearest seat, he sent a message to Crux. “Specialist, inform the Captain we have the Infiltrators. Ready for the final target.” Turning to the team, he continued. “As for you six, same as before. Grab some more explosives and be ready in ten. The Rancor isn’t too far away.”
The electric-blue aura of the insertion beam dissipated shortly after the team of six emerged in their third and final target, bathing the unlit storage facility in darkness. Activating the night-vision on their headgear, the group scanned their surroundings, finding nothing but pallets of spare parts on rusty warehouse shelves. Satisfied, Shadow whispered into her comms, “Area secure.”
The small squad headed towards a single source of light off in the distance. As they neared the exit to the facility, Sparky had sniffed out four bipedal creatures approaching nearby. Pulsars ready, the team assembled to either side of the exit and waited for the armour-clad group to pass by, all the while chatting away in their foreign language. Using a tiny camera to peek out from the facility, Shadow waited for the four to turn a corner, before signalling her squad to move out.
The team navigated the hallways and maintenance corridors of the large carrier, following directions based on the data obtained from other Vindicators. The CNS software programmed into their headgear calculated the optimal path to their objective in real time, compensating for multiple diversions along the way as they avoided unnecessary contact with the crew. As the squad progressed, they found many security cameras mounted at various points. Whenever a disguised Obsidian had been confident no Raider crew were around, Glare teleported the group, either across an intersecting corridor, or past a camera’s field of vision.
Eventually the Infiltrators found their way to a pair of armoured doors separating them from the engineering section. A small round pane of reinforced glass was built into each half. Obsidian peered through one. “For a carrier, there seems to be a suspicious shortage of crew,” he whispered to Shadow. “The two cruisers made sense, but a carrier? Where is everyone?”
“Not sure. Their strike-craft and reserve crew might be in their quarters, or waiting to deploy in the hangar,” Shadow suggested, looking through the second pane. “Maybe security is lax because they haven’t detected any threats.” Turning to the unicorn, she moved out of the way. “Glare. You’re up.”
Glare inspected the location on the other side of the doors. Forming a mental image of her destination, she prepared to cast her spell.
Obsidian remained sceptical. “Or maybe they’re lulling us into a false sense of security and waiting to ambush us.”
“I can’t say that’s not possible, but I’d find it highly unlikely.”
In a flash, the six appeared on the engineering side of the doors and pressed on. Despite increasingly larger numbers of crew in the area, they were able to keep out of sight as they approached the primary power plant. Cobbled together from various parts to form a crude, yet effective device, the power plant was volatile and highly unstable if damaged in the right places. Buried within a spherical outer casing the size of a fifteen-storey apartment, the alien technology resembled a sea urchin, suspended in the air with its countless connecting supports, tubes, and walkways. At one end, a large tube headed aft and connected with a bulkhead, presumably for the engines.
Peering around the corner at their objective, Shadow analysed each entrance; enclosed bridges, each guarded by a number of crew. She couldn’t figure out which bridge to use, or how to even approach one safely. Glancing up, she performed a double-take at several ceiling support structures, also noting darkened areas that could hide the flight-capable team members.
After a few hoof gestures, Swift, Shift and Obsidian took flight, hugging the shadows all the way up, until they perched atop an I-beam support. From their vantage point, the trio could make out most of the power plant below, as well as the other three members of their team darting between various covered objects, as they made their way closer to the power plant. Determining the least-guarded access bridge to be the one with the aft-facing entrance manned by three crew, Obsidian and the twins stuck to the darkened ceiling and positioned themselves above their targets. On Obsidian’s count, the three dived.
The air rushing past their ears began to howl as they plummeted faster and faster. Their targets drew nearer, until they were but a fraction of a second from impact. With an almost painful twist of their wings and a bend of their bodies later, they went from face-first, to pin-drop dives, impacting with the heads of their respective targets with their hind hooves. A couple of muffled grunts and several cracks and snaps had indicated they hit their marks. Wasting no time, the three carried their victims up to their ceiling perch, stuffing them into a nearby air vent, with the legs of the third sticking out at odd angles, and a viscous yellow fluid seeping from the last body.
Swift pulled a disgusted face at the fluid. “Ugh, I’m never looking at mustard the same way again.”
Returning to the access bridge, the rest of the team approached, and most disappeared down the narrow walkway, leaving Obsidian to remain at the entrance as a lookout. Green flames enveloped his body from the hooves up, leaving a drinking fountain in place of the changeling beside the entrance. Remaining perfectly still, Obsidian watched and waited for the rest of his team to return.
More than twenty minutes passed without any sign of the other five. Tempted to contact them over comms, Obsidian’s concerns were pushed to the back of his mind when he noticed a single crew member walking past nearby. The beady eyes of the Raider stared at the unguarded bridge and approached, coming to a halt a few metres from Obsidian, who at this point was considering dropping the disguise and charging him. Opting to wait, he watched the Raider look around briefly, before taking a few steps towards the entrance.
Obsidian could tell the crew member thought something was wrong, though the Raider’s stance and lack of urgency in his movements suggested no suspicion of intrusion, or threatening situations. The Raider looked down at the drinking fountain. Deciding he was thirsty, he approached, and leaned in for a—
“MMPH!”
The Raider’s muffled screams lasted mere seconds when Obsidian dropped his disguise and clamped his jaw down on the face of the unfortunate victim. Struggling to shake the changeling off, the Raider grew weaker, and Obsidian dragged the twitching body into the access bridge, spitting the corpse onto the floor when the body went completely limp.
Turning around at the sound of quiet gagging, he saw Swift and Shift staring with identically horrified faces at the dripping yellow blood from the changeling’s fangs and chin, and the faceless body behind him. “Demolitions planted?” the changeling asked, flicking a chunk of flesh off a fang with his tongue. The pegasi nodded, maintaining the same traumatised expressions. “Good. Once the others return, we need to rush back. We don’t have much time to get the buzz off this ship.”
By the time the team reunited, the group had only a few minutes to spare as they rounded the final corner to their insertion point in full gallop. In their haste and abandoned caution, they caught the attention of a pair of armed crew near the entrance to the storage facility they came from. Swift and Shift rushed to ready their carbines. The two crew fumbled to raise their weapons. Sparky hurled Obsidian at the pair like a javelin before either side got even close to taking aim.
Knocking both crew to the ground, the final sight one of the crew saw was of the changeling’s bladed wing being flicked across his neck. The other crew’s final moment had been significantly more painful, as the charging diamond dog picked him up by the leg, and proceeded to pummel him into the ground, wall and anything else nearby.
Even after the rest of the team had caught up, the diamond dog still had not stopped his frenzied beating. “Uhh, Sparky?” Swift called out. “Sparks!” Shift joined in. “I think you got him!”
Examining his work, Sparky grunted, satisfied he had sufficiently neutralised the Raider with appropriate force, and threw what remained of the mangled body over his shoulder. Glare appeared pale, almost losing the contents of her stomach at the mere sight. Looking away, she followed Sparky and the rest of the team into the storage facility.
As soon as Shadow signalled for extraction, the insertion beam flashed into view, and the squad wasted no time retrieving the final set of explosives that came through. Shadow, Glare and Sparky proceeded to throw the charges up to the other three to secure against the inner hull. After a brief inspection of each explosive, the six departed the ship marked for death.
With the last of the six emerging back aboard Amarok, Eclipse notified the bridge of the team’s arrival. Shortly after, the whine of the vessel’s engines grew louder, as the destroyer pulled away. “Job well done, you six. Textbook—whoah, Obsidian, do you need to visit the infirmary?”
“It’s not my blood. Who knew Raiders bled yellow?”
Eclipse pointed to Obsidian’s chest. “Actually, I was referring to that.”
Looking down, Obsidian found his chest oddly misshapen, with a large object pushing out from underneath his skin. The changeling groaned. “I hate when this happens.” He explained to Eclipse, “I just dislocated something. Probably when Sparky threw me at the Raiders.”
“Sparky did what now?”
“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” Obsidian dismissed the event. His ears twitched, and he looked up at the ceiling when he heard torpedoes firing. He then called the nearest pegasus over. “Swift, I need you to buck me. Hard.”
Swift’s eyes bulged.
“In the chest, you idiot!” the changeling snapped, pointing at the dislocation. “To realign this.”
“Oh. Oh! In that case …” Swift wheeled around without hesitation and shot a hind hoof back.
A sickening crunch filled the air, and the others reeled in horror. Obsidian collapsed on the floor, too winded to scream. Shadow and Glare immediately went to the changeling, though the pair were pushed away. “I’m … fine,” Obsidian gasped, returning shakily to his hooves.
“You know what? Perhaps I’ll postpone the debrief for a few hours,” Eclipse suggested.
Obsidian moved to the nearest seat. “No, let’s get it over with,” he wheezed. “I’d rather not move for the next half hour or so, anyway.”
Following Glare into their quarters, Obsidian removed the last of his gear and placed it beside the bathroom. “Hey Glare, you need to use the shower?” he asked, while lightly massaging his chest.
“No, go ahead. You definitely need it more than I do,” she called out behind him, referring to the dried blood still caked to Obsidian’s muzzle and left side. “You better have that place scrubbed spotless once you’ve finished!” Glare added.
Obsidian turned his head to Glare. “Neat freak.” Smirking, he retreated into the bathroom with his gear.
“I’m not a—ugh!” Glare decided to let the comment go. Placing her helmet on the desk, she unclasped her VMUI and removed her GCU, freeing her mane and tail with great satisfaction. Removing each piece of armour from her GCU’s linings, she inspected them for damage, and stacked them on top of each other, before proceeding to check the rest of her hardware for functionality.
Obsidian exited the bathroom shortly after, his body shining more so than usual, and putting his freshly cleaned gear to shame. “Shower’s all yours,” he announced, as he spread his gear across the table. Taking a towel, he proceeded to dry his blades with delicate swipes.
Glare inspected the changeling’s body. “What happened to you?”
“What do you—ah, this?” the changeling looked around at his body. “I was trying to apply some polish to my things, but the container leaked. Long story short, I slipped in it, and decided to just roll with it. Literally, at one point. You know, I quite like it, actually. And before you ask, the bathroom is clean. Shiniest floor you’ve ever seen, as well. So, you know, its pristine state should be worthy of Her Royal Highness Princess Glare.”
Glare threw her GCU at Obsidian, which wrapped around his face with an audible thump, and headed into the bathroom. “Smartflank,” she muttered.
“Is that … banana?” Obsidian sniffed, his muffled voice emerging from the uniform. “You actually use a banana-scented—wait a second. Shampoo, or detergent?”
“Oh zip it!”
Snickering, Obsidian placed the uniform on the table next to the rest of Glare’s items, and proceeded to store his own away in his drawers. A sudden knock on the pressure door had him sighing in annoyance. “What now?”
Opening the pressure doors, Obsidian found an earth pony who stepped forward, before shrinking under the gaze of the changeling; unusual, given the pony was the taller of the two. “Uhh, s-sorry to disturb you. I have these d-documents for an Obsidian and Glaring Light.”
Obsidian swiped the two identical folders from the pony’s trembling outstretched hoof. “I’ll take those. And that’s Chief Petty Officer Obsidian to you!”
“Y—yes s—sir.”
“Sir? Sir? Last I checked, my uniform had no stripes. Do you want to try again, Deckhoof?”
“S—sorry Chie—”
Obsidian slammed the inner doors in the pony’s face. Fighting the urge to laugh, he grabbed his chest as the dull pain flared up.
“I heard that!” Glare called out from the shower. “How are you supposed to change everypony’s perceptions of you if keep acting like a foal? Come on, grow up.”
“I was just having a little fun,” Obsidian replied. “Besides, technically he was supposed to address me in the proper manner, so …”
Obsidian could hear Glare groaning on the other side of the door. Placing Glare’s folder on her mattress, he settled himself in his bed and turned the reading light on. After skimming through the first page, Obsidian leaned out from his bed. “Hey Glare!” he shouted. “We’ve got a new assignment!”
The shutter on one of the beds at the opposite side of the room opened, and an enraged griffon leaned out. “Will you keep it the hell down? I’m trying to sleep here, you prick!” she shouted, before slamming the shutter down once more.
Good day to you, Infiltrator. Your upcoming assignment is as follows:
Over the last six weeks, multiple remote outposts along the Karos Graveyard perimeter have detected anomalous electromagnetic readings. These readings have been intermittent, yet in distinct patterns, suggesting their emission is no natural event. Signal triangulation has sent the recon fleet Twelfth Solar towards a planet in the heart of the Graveyard, designated Enigma Tango. Upon further investigation, the fleet determined the planet to be formerly populated.
The fleet's sensors narrowed down these readings to hilly terrain past the outskirts of a desolate industrial region on one of the larger continents. Our research division wishes to deploy a ground team to analyse this phenomenon. Preparation of a small scientific expedition led by Tenth Fleet and its carrier Achelois is under way, and scheduled to arrive in a week's time. However, Twelfth Fleet reports planet-wide activity from erratic defensive emplacements and autonomous patrolling vehicles, as was discovered when multiple probes were sent to the surface. A particularly large concentration of these machines will be found in the mission area designated in the wide-area map of document 1A.
Due to a permanent storm spanning most of the landmass, orbital surveillance data is incomplete. The aforementioned probes sent to the surface have been unable to transmit useful data, either. Of those that survived atmospheric entry and flight through the weather system, their landing sites were pushed off-course as a result of the storms. From the available data, any potential dangers detected have been neutralised from orbit by Twelfth Solar. Due to operational requirements, they will be unavailable for the duration of your mission.
The lack of complete data requires a reconnaissance team on ground to scout the area, ensuring our science team and their security detail can safely traverse the region. As such, your primary objective will be to find or create a safe passage into this region. Your CNS will include suspected patrol patterns of mobile threats, based on limited probe data. The data will also include sites of destroyed emplacements and vehicles.
The Galactic Council has already confirmed no known faction has any claim to this planet. Given there are no lifeforms in or around the mission area, you are cleared to engage potential threats at your discretion. Amarok will provide limited fire support against targets, using data from the target marker function on your CNS. Be advised, there is no information on the AI of these machines. Behaviours and reactions are unknown.
Upon completion of modifications, you will leave with your Infiltrator squadron aboard a Forge Mk. IX aircraft attached to Amarok’s exterior. This aircraft has been modified to withstand atmospheric entry and flight through the storm. However, it will be unable to return to orbit. Once a landing site has been secured, scuttle the craft and proceed towards the objective. Tenth Solar will provide extraction information at a later stage.
Refer to document 2A and confirm all equipment and supplies are in order before departing. Due to the planet’s lower surface gravity, they have been adjusted accordingly.