The Thaumic Solution 73%
It wasn’t exactly a list of good options. Twilight could practically taste the chaos in Canterlot as soon as they tried anything that might leave their two halves of pony civilization with some lasting class divide. Node could only give vague answers about how long it would take to reach the Flotilla once they stepped into the Highway, but Twilight didn’t think the enlightened races there would take too kindly to their arrival if their ship was in the middle of a civil war. ‘Yeah, we’re totally safe to join you. Don’t mind us, we’re just killing each other!’
“The risks are… rather high, if we should fail,” Rarity explained. “This is the natural evolution of our shielding technology. Shielding against the effects of acceleration will require the constant interface of a Signaler computer of great intelligence. And if we can’t make it work, the entire section will be… useless.”
“But we can’t wait months for the research,” Applejack cut in. “That would mean a year of sittin’ around and doing nothing while our time left alive is countin’ down. We need to be building the internals at the same time. But if the shield doesn’t work, the insides are going to be… useless to them. We’ll have to take it all apart.”
Twilight raised a dismissive wing. “I understand. Can you do it, Rarity?”
The unicorn rose, glancing nervously at the little group of Shiprats in the center. “Not on my own. I’m not sure yet where we’ll get the right computer. Node might be able to help construct one. And the Shield unicorns have a level of mastery over protection spells that no creature on Equestria ever did. We’ll have to… synergize? I believe that’s the term.”
That’s not much of an answer. “Consider it ordered,” Twilight said, hopping down off the throne and gliding towards Soup and flywheel in the center. “You all have the most important part of this assignment, even more critical than the engineering. You’re responsible for making sure that our message gets out before your ponies start thinking like Inheritors. You stood right here while I rejected the plan that would’ve treated you like strangers on your own station. Make sure every creature knows that.”
Flywheel nodded. “I wasn’t sure I believed it myself until I sat here. But if I see we’re going with this plan—” he pointed at the projection, and the oddly spherical section that would be joining Canterlot station. “Then I can be honest with the other Shiprats. We really are… siblings.”
Soup only shrugged. “Just make sure there’s plenty of space for farming, the way we do it. Shiprats like us—we want to feel like we have control of our own survival. Whatever you’re building on the rest of Canterlot—we don’t want part of it. Give us our own, and we’ll take care of our own.”
Applejack raised a hoof to object, but Twilight silenced her with a glare. It didn’t particularly matter that it would obviously be inefficient, and probably a huge waste of labor as well. The shiprats wouldn’t have a whole lot to do once Canterlot was back in working order, and automation replaced all their near-religious ritual kit bashing. “I will make sure of it personally,” Twilight said. “Feel free to consult with your community. If there’s anything we’ve missed, tell us early in the construction process while it’s still easy to fix.”
The meeting dispersed. Even without magic, Twilight could sense just how unhappy everypony was. The risk of such a plan was high, and from what some of her friends had said, they didn’t think the Shiprats should be given so much deference. She could understand that perspective—saving the sleeping ponies was the Canterlot’s entire mission. But they’ve done their part to carry out that mission for centuries. They deserve payment.
She had a few private conversations, explaining as much to Sunset, and answering a few more concerns. Eventually, only Spike was left behind with her. “There’s one question you haven’t answered yet,” he said. The confidence he’d manifested since his rebirth was all gone now, and he sounded almost as nervous as he had as her baby dragon assistant. “I know I’m… probably not the most important thing on your mind. But I need to help. I can’t just float on a docking sending in a drone or two. I’m sick of limbo.”
Twilight suppressed a gasp, resting a wing on his oversized alien shoulder. “Spike! I’m sorry, I… you could’ve talked to me about this sooner. Of course I’m not upset with you. You’re as loyal to this mission as anyone. You’ve given more to this mission than any other creature.” With the possible exception of Apple bloom, and her mostly-dead crew.
She walked past him, along the fountain of Celestia’s throne. It looked so dead without the fish and lilies growing here. Maybe she could bring them back. Or at least plant a few Lilly pads. There’s got to be some seeds stashed away somewhere.
But that didn’t help her know what to do for Spike. What role could she give to a dead dragon who was now the computer of a redundant exploration ship? “You must’ve thought about this,” she said, trying to buy time. “What do you want to do?”
“I see a few options,” Spike said. “But somehow, I can’t…” he shook his head. “It’s horrible, Twilight. Like there are blocks in my head. I want to march right up and… demand what I want. But I can’t.” He shook his head, expression haunted. “I guess that’s what it means to be a ship’s AI. I don’t order my captain, I can only give you options. Here are the ones I’ve come up with, ordered from least to greatest preference:”
1. Clear a section of docking bay and park the Equinox, allowing Spike to use his drones to assist aboard the Canterlot while not compromising his functionality. (this would require many ships to be removed and dismantled, but their parts can go into the new section anyway)
2. Wake a crew of miners and send them off in the Equinox to start gathering supplies for the new section. They will be able to travel to further-flung destinations like Proximus B, while the Canterlot gathers bulk materials near Proximus C.
3. Spike couldn’t help but notice a powerful computer could be used to run the new section once it’s finished. He figures his should be strong enough to increase their odds. This would render the Equinox derelict until a replacement computer could be built.
4. He’s certain that controlling a single ship takes almost none of his abilities. Spike feels he could be most helpful as a replacement for Canterlot’s central computer. Doing so would give him a permanent place in their new society, though it would also render the Equinox derelict until he was replaced.