Try to Talk the survivors down 88%
Twilight was frozen for a moment, taking in the terrible situation on the bridge. But only for a moment, long enough for her rational mind to catch up with what she was seeing. These were ponies, and from the look of it, ponies that were in desperate need of help. Could she really risk hurting them, even for such an important goal? Besides, she was a princess. Ponies had a way to do things.
“Take it easy,” she said, settling her rifle onto the ground beside her and nudging it away with a hoof. “We’re not here to hurt you.”
Can Twilight calm them down? No.
There were three of them in all, and for a second she couldn’t tell if they’d even heard her. Then they advanced, with their makeshift weapons clutched in mouths and hooves. She saw no signs of magic between them, though they did seem to understand zero-gravity well enough, because they didn’t stumble or float away.
“We’re here to rescue this ship,” Rarity said, stepping forward beside Twilight. She didn’t toss her weapon away, though her own gun was still strapped on her back. She hadn’t even drawn it. “Look at us, we’re ponies. We’re not going to hurt you.”
“She means we don’t want to,” Rainbow added, from beside them. “Let’s just talk this out, okay? Don’t make us hurt anypony.”
With Rarity and Rainbow’s help? Yes.
The pony with the toolbox—a unicorn with a coat that was almost completely white, and a mane that only had a tiny bit of pink—dropped the knife from his mouth. “How… in Celestia’s memory… how can there be other ponies here? Did you wake by mistake? Is the…” he looked confused, as though shaking out of a daze.
It’s the air. They’re all suffering from C02 poisoning. They might’ve been able to fix it by now if they weren’t so addled.
“No,” she said, watching as the others let their weapons fall. Rarity and Rainbow shared a relieved look, and she stepped forward again. “My name is Captain Twilight Sparkle. I was on the first mission sent to explore the Proximus system. Somehow we… lost some time on the way, and arrived centuries later than we should’ve. I think you’ve been in-system longer than we have.”
The lead unicorn glanced over his shoulder at the earth pony. “Check the computer. See if she looks the same.”
One of his earth ponies wandered away, trying several dead screens before one finally came on. It flickered and produced a slight electrical hum as she used it—but it did work. Her own image appeared on it moments later, blurry and out of date. Twilight wondered what the rest of that file said, though she didn’t ask yet. There were more important things.
“It’s her,” the earth pony said.
“That’s… amazing,” he nodded politely to her, probably trying to bow. But he almost fell over, and he gave up. “I’m Flywheel, the, uh… maintenance supervisor of… the whole world.” He gestured around at the ruined bridge with one hoof. “As you can see, we’re… having some trouble.”
“I can imagine,” Rarity said, walking past him towards the computers. She began trying them one at a time, her frown deepening with each dead console. “The Canterlot was never meant to travel. And from what we’ve heard, you didn’t have much time to bring it here. A rather… desperate evacuation.”
“Evacuation,” one of the other ponies repeated, face dark. “Sounds better than it was. Evacuation would mean we got most ponies out. But it wasn’t that way. We’re… more like a lifeboat. Everypony else sank.”
Twilight would have to fight the desire to search these computers for her own family. If the rest of her crew could wait, then she would wait too. There were more important things. “Our first priority is seeing the Canterlot restored,” she said. “What’s wrong with her?”
The maintenance ponies shared a look, which quickly turned into bitter laughter. Flywheel was the first to answer. “What isn’t? We’ve been captive in a gas giant for generations. We’ve scrounged and sacrificed and… given up everything to keep ourselves from being crushed. I don’t know how much more time we have. Not another generation. Most of the ship rats aren’t having foals. Wouldn’t be… fair to bring them into this.”
Twilight looked them over one last time, and was almost brought to tears at what she saw. No wonder these ponies were so sickly—they’d been born here, and suffered under desperate conditions for a lifetime. We need to get her away from Proximus C to start repairs. We can’t have every supply run be fighting atmosphere and a station that might pull us in at any moment.
Thoughts of having the Highway retrofit her now faded into the background. Ponies were suffering now; the grand future could wait. She flicked on her radio, waiting a moment to be connected with her digital crew on the Signaler station.
“I want you to eject the Canterlot,” she said. “This ship isn’t ready for retrofit. She’s in critical condition.”
“Your ship is going to suffer more damage when we push her away,” Node said. “I can’t predict what will happen.”
“I know,” Twilight said. “And if you’re suggesting we leave… no. This is… the last of our civilization.”
She nodded to Rarity. “Get to the shields. We might need a little more structural integrity for this.”
Rarity saluted, then hurried off. She didn’t need directions.
“I’m going with her,” Rainbow added, over a private channel. “You’re an Alicorn, you can watch your own back. Rarity might need me if there are any more crazies.”
“Go.”
Twilight watched them leave, approaching the controls. She didn’t know the first thing about flying something this size—but hopefully she wouldn’t need to. All they had to do was fall upward.
And when it was done, she could focus on…
1. Repairing life support. We need the conscious crew able to function before we go any further.
2. Accessing the computers. I need answers.
3. Assess and make any repairs to cryogenics. The sleeping population are the priority.