//------------------------------// // Chapter 114 // Story: Voyage of the Equinox // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Repair Life Support 83% It was time to take the lives of her entire species into her hooves. Twilight settled into the controls, strapping herself in and resting securely against the helmet. She felt the eyes of several shiprats on her, tiny and almost unblinking. She couldn’t imagine they’d do well under real sunlight. Or real gravity for that matter—these creatures would live their whole lives in space even if she could save the Canterlot. “Any advice?” she asked conversationally. “We are about to try and fly this thing.” They looked from one another as though she’d just said she was going to try exploding as a hobby. “The main engine hasn’t worked for… ever,” said a scrawny unicorn near the front. “I think they burned it out trying to leave orbit… long ago. Only have maneuvering thrusters left. And none of the rats knows how to use those. Computer control… to maintain the orbit. That’s all.” “That’s all I’ll need.” Twilight said. As she did so, she let her magic settle on the keyboard and started flipping through the information readouts. It wasn’t structured like the Equinox, with a careful organization of all critical information into neat blocks. The Canterlot was a makeshift hodgepodge, with subroutines failing to respond without pattern or reason. While she waited for Rarity to radio back, she fumbled with navigation until she finally found it. Sure enough, the central ‘fusion pulse drive’ was listed as offline. Whatever the buck that is. But it did have thrusters, the same ones it had used to stay in orbit around Equestria. A good 30% of those were still working. “In shields now,” Rarity’s voice came in over the radio, sounding fearful. “It’s… a dreadful place, captain.” She lowered her voice, and from the way it echoed Twilight guessed she’d fully closed her helmet. She didn’t want anyone to overhear. “I wouldn’t use the words ‘suicide cult’ lightly, but that’s what’s going on down here. The Canterlot’s shields were supposed to keep a little air in, and resist impacts from space-junk. Under those conditions, a pony can work their whole life and not feel side-effects.” “I can see where you’re going,” Twilight muttered grimly. “The shields are working a hundred times harder than they were designed to. It’s a miracle the matrixs didn’t all shatter.” “No miracle,” said the same shiprat who had spoken before, raising his voice just a little in frustration. “Bunkin’ hard work. What do you think we do?” Rarity couldn’t hear that of course, and she went on. “But these ponies are spending their lives to keep the ship intact. They’ve got a mausoleum… lot of dead ponies down here.” “Get them ready,” Twilight declared. “We’ll need the shield stronger than ever for this push. If we survive… they won’t have to die for it again. Tell them that.” “I have,” Rarity said. “They don’t believe me. But being willing to join them for the effort has earned some cooperation. You… better succeed, captain. I promised I wouldn’t leave if we fail.” “We can do it,” she said. Then she looked to the side, at the pony who had spoken before. “Flywheel, you’re my copilot. Sit down there.” The unicorn raised an indignant eyebrow, but he didn’t dare retreat. “Are you… sure about that, princess? I don’t know how to fly. I wouldn’t even know you if you weren’t in the computer.” “Positive,” she gestured again. “You know this station better than I ever could. I need you to hold it together for me.” He shared a look with his fellow shiprats, then climbed into the seat beside her. “I’m not sure what you think you’re doing, princess. Even if this planet was yours the way the sun was Celestia’s, she had to be out in space to detonate it. And the reflectors aren’t in good enough shape to survive a push that hard.” What? The horrific implications of that statement rushed through her mind, spoiling her concentration. Node brought her back before she could forget completely about what she was doing. “Ready when you are, captain. I’m not sure we’ll be able to camp here for much longer without doing anything. The station will start questioning our service credentials.” “We’re ready,” Twilight said. “If we live through this, get back to the Equinox and get over here as soon as you can. This thing is going to need the kind of repairs engineers only have nightmares about. I need your talents.” “You shouldn’t be aboard while this happens,” Sunset said over the radio. “Your life is too precious to waste, captain. You’re… the only surviving princess. I’m dead already, let me be there.” If she was feeling remotely rational, she probably would remind Sunset that she wouldn’t survive the acceleration. But she wasn’t, and she’d just learned some things that she’d rather not know. “Buck that,” she said. “This is what’s left of Equestria. I don’t mind going down with it. Node, do it.” “Do what?” Flywheel asked, staring at her. “Princess, there’s no way to—” They began to move. The floor rumbled under their hooves, and the entire station began to groan. She could feel new structural faults tearing in a structure that hadn’t ever meant to move. Numerous rolls referenced in Discord “What the buck are you doing?” Flywheel screamed. But she could barely even hear him over the sound of a station tearing itself apart. Rarity’s voice came in next, strained with effort. “This is going to be… tight, captain! Nopony down here has ever faced forces like this! The Canterlot is coming apart!” “I know!” she didn’t take her hooves from the controls, staring forward at the radar readout. The station was falling away, and the atmosphere around them grew more diffuse by the second. The shiprats fell to the floor one by one, flopping uselessly in the gravity their bodies could overcome. She winced at their pain, but there was nothing she could do about it. Either they stayed down there, or everypony died. Finally the pressure holding her in her seat began to relax. The straps caught her, and the Canterlot seemed to sigh with relief. A thousand sirens blaring from all around changed to a dozen, still impossible to tell apart. “You still with me, Flywheel?” The pony turned from his seat, eyes dark as he glared. “What do you buckin’ think.” Blood dribbled from his nose, and his breathing came harshly. But the gravity was gone now—whatever damage was done was over now. “Sensors read you… clear,” Sunset said over the radio. “Canterlot lost about… well that’s not right. Negative 50% of its mass? Our numbers must be out of date.” “They converted her into an interstellar ship,” Twilight said, fumbling with the straps one at a time. “Sunset, organize repair crews. Get everypony over here but, uh…” she frowned a moment. “Actually, maybe we don’t need anypony over there. Spike, can you hold down the fort for us?” “There’s nothing you can do to fly the Equinox that I can’t manage on my own,” he answered flatly. “I plan on joining you aboard the Canterlot as well. More than one body.” Twilight didn’t have the energy left to argue. “Then navigate into a docking position, Sunset. I have a feeling we have a lot of work ahead of us.”