Wake the crew 47%
Twilight still wasn’t fully sure of what Sunset had told her about the end of Equestria, but one thing she wasn’t about to do was take more risks than she had to. Of course, going ‘inside’ the Contingency would be easy in itself. Anytime she neared the strange object, she could feel the gravity pulling her in. The same gravity that had destroyed an army of hostile machines, as well as either killing her crew or just trapping their minds within it.
She didn’t know which it was at first. But once the Equinox’s most severe damage was patched—once everything but the docking ring was sealed and there were no decks open to space, she was free to explore her daring plan.
Does Twilight find another way? Yes.
It started with a basic realization she made while patching small holes in the central computer. She took the time to remove one of the glass covers from the mainframe, and inspect whatever had happened to their core.
Spike was right about the total reengineering that had happened here, because the suspended crystal lattice of microscopic transistors and memory cells was replaced with rows and rows of stacked black chips. She’d seen this technology before, from Spike’s own claws. This was what Node’s brain looked like.
It’s all the same technology. The Contingency was built by the signalers, who also built the virus. Just as all Equestrian technology was on some level built to work together, Twilight realized then that she could make the same assumption for the Signalers, and probably be right. That was what led her to the plan.
“It won’t hurt them,” she insisted, as Fluttershy settled the last portable life-support pod into place. They were all there now, tucked away into the Central computer alongside its most dangerous occupant of all: The Contingency.
This she settled up beside the central interface terminal, newly repaired after Cozy Glow had died here. “It might not do anything, that’s the worst potential outcome. But there’s a good chance we’ll do much more. Not just prevent harm, we could save them.”
Is Spike the solution? Yes.
“Spike could save them,” Fluttershy said. “Spike, I hope you’re okay with this. I don’t like what the captain has done to you.”
“Me neither,” Spike muttered. “But if you’re talking about saving the others, I agreed with her. So far as we know, no one who went into the Contingency ever came out again. But I’m not… alive… anymore. And if I die again, we won’t really be out anything. The Equinox’s computer as you know it is still intact, running perfectly fine in an emulated sandbox of the old hardware. I’ll plug it up to the real ship before I leave, just in case I die horribly. Can computers die horribly?”
“You’re not a computer, Spike,” Twilight said, directly to one of the mainframes. “You’re just living on one, through… no fault of your own.”
“Well that’s true,” he said. “I bravely sacrificed myself, that was supposed to be the end of it. At least we agree I should’ve just died.”
There was a moment’s awkward silence, during which the two conscious ponies shared a nervous glance. Sunset Shimmer wasn’t here, by way of redundancy, but was currently making patchwork repairs where she could. Artificial limbs and organs or not, she was the best engineer they currently had.
Eventually Spike’s voice returned. “Alright, I’ve got a wireless connection to the Contingency. We’re negotiating protocols and… yeah, this is faster than you could understand. If you want some good news, just know that it’s going to go so incredibly fast from your perspective that I’ll probably be right out again even if it takes months. OR… maybe I’ll never come out. You’ll know in a minute.”
“Good luck, Spike,” Fluttershy said. “They’re your friends too. Bring them back to us.”
“I want nothing more,” his voice said, without irony. “Returning control of the Equinox to last-state backup…” there was a brief flicker overhead, and then the lights came back on. Starlight Glimmer’s recorded voice returned, echoing through the cavernous hall. “Hull breach in the docking ring. Depressurization detected in the habitat ring. Please perform repairs as soon as…”
Spike woke in a city.
‘Woke’ was only a roughly analogous term, as he’d known neither sleeping nor waking since the moment of his death. The silicon that was his current substrate didn’t exist completely in either one, shifting smoothly as computational demands changed with the needs of the Equinox.
But where he had once been a Starship, with vaster intelligence and comprehension than he could’ve imagined in his entire lifetime—now he was something small again. A lizard, with two legs, and two wings, and purple scales.
It was the way he remembered himself—tall, alive, single-instanced.
He stood on the wide streets of an empty city, surrounded with flashing lights. Vast parks and gardens shone in the evening light, tended by little mechanical robots that flew or hopped or crawled. The place was pristine, even if it was a little oversized for pony occupants. Perfect for a dragon, though.
He didn’t know where he was going, or even if his path would take him remotely near what he was looking for. The streets were gigantic, made of hexagonal glass plates that reacted to his touch. Caution lines appeared around him, directing vehicles away that never came.
Until he rounded a corner, and came upon… a party?
It looked like the ancient Ponyville fairs he’d visited with Twilight when he was still a hatchling, put on in the old country where many earth pony customs had never completely faded. Brilliant streamers hung from the trees, a distant, unseen band filled the square with folk music, and trays were piled high with sweets of all kinds.
Spike approached a smaller table off to one side, where snacks for gem-eaters like himself were hidden away from ponies who might break their teeth on them. He took one of his favorites—a jade-like cupcake—and took a gigantic bite.
The flavors were exactly as he remembered—so perfect, in fact, that he recognized the recipe. Never thought I’d taste that one again.
“Spike!” Called a voice, from just over his shoulder. “You finally made it!” Something was off about her tone, something that he remembered reading in her psychological profile in the ship’s library. But that information was all severed from him now. He was just himself again.
He turned, and wasn’t surprised to see the pony waiting there. Pinkie wore a maestro’s uniform, like she’d just been directing a marching band. But there was no band in sight—nopony at all was in sight, except for Pinkie herself. “Yep, I’m here. Just, uh… looking for all our friends. Where are the others?”
“Oooh, would you help me find them? I’ve been looking for the others for a long time now… I think they’re hiding from me. That’s not very nice, even if I’m very impressed with their work. Who do you want to find first?”
1. Rarity
2. Rainbow
3. Apples
4. Node
5. Nopony. Escape from Pinkie.
(Certainty 205 required)