//------------------------------// // Chapter 11 - One Hell of a Furball // Story: Flurry in Time // by DuvetofReason //------------------------------// Even while hooked up to her flight couch, Flurry managed to connect her hoof to her face over the utterly amateur move. Swan’s actions felt more like something you’d find in a pilot’s training manual—Encounters 101—than what any sane instructor would have trained her to do. The enemy ship had definitely noticed them. There goes our element of surprise, she noted. Worse, local comms chatter between the squadrons had suddenly taken on a very distorted quality. “Localized jamming detected,” the Dream announced. Well, that explains that. Apparently, they didn’t want anyone calling in for reinforcements. Flurry could still make out what the fighter pilots were saying, but what concerned her more was whether she’d be able to maintain comms with the Glorium. Jamming tended to be more effective at blocking long-range communications, after all. Something about generating an alternating gravity field that acted like tossing a rock in a pond on the Mirrorspace side. Problem for the bad guys is that they’d be cut off as well. The turrets atop the cruiser’s upper superstructure were suddenly highlighted red as they began rotating in their direction. LIDAR targeting pulses began radiating from the cruiser as its guns found their range. From its bloated belly, bright blue lights were spat out in ever-increasing numbers. “Sabre Lead, multiple launches detected,” one of Swan’s flight said, fear creeping into the stallion’s voice.  The Dream’s sensors focused Flurry’s vision on the small pinpricks of light. They twitched and shifted, swirling around each other in a growing spiral of light. It was almost beautiful, like a stirred up nest of fireflies, though it troubled her that her sensors struggled for a moment to lock onto them individually. They were definitely Shurikens. She could recognise that dart-like profile anywhere, and now that they were closing distance, she could make out every detail after managing to lock onto one.  The long, cone-shaped nose and fuselage were almost jet-black, save for a blue stripe running down the side. There was no canopy or signs of a cockpit, for they held no pilot, at least not in the conventional sense. The bulbous engine pod at the rear trailed a bright-blue ion trail as the ship bobbed and weaved erratically. In amongst the formation were several larger fighter craft. Drone controllers. These would have actual pilots flying them. They were the same colour and configuration as their smaller companions, only with a jagged armoured prow dominated by two ball turrets. Within seconds, they had already begun corralling their wayward pack of drones into order, creating a wall between Flurry and the Orion. “Flurry, what am I looking at?” Swan asked. “Shurikens, for sure,” she stated calmly, though she hid her growing unease. “Definitely Syndicate.” “Syndicate?” Blitz asked. “Isn’t that one of the local pirate groups?” “Yeah,” Flurry confirmed. “They’re the most organized changeling faction outside the Conformity. Trying to take the Orion is pretty ambitious, even for them. Though I can see why they’d want her.” “Changelings? I thought they were supposed to be friendly.”  “Not these ones,” she replied sourly. “They’re the worst kind of scum operating in Dragon’s Head. You’d best pray they don’t take you alive.” “Why’s that?” “Because they’re the ones that see ponies as their next meal,” she replied grimly. “These ferals will drain you dry and then plug what’s left of your traumatized mind into one of those drones.” “Oh…” “I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with them over the years. Ever since the war, they’ve been getting bolder. Almost all their tech is stolen. Opportunistic trading-up is how they like to do things. They won’t care what happens to that carrier if they can bag the Orion.”  “And imagine what they could do with a ship like that,” Swan added. Flurry rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck in preparation for what was to come. “Make no mistake, these aren’t your average pirates.”  They had some serious balls trying to grab a Commonwealth battleship like this. The planning needed to arrange this little ambush must have taken months. Flurry’s only solace was that they were in for a nasty surprise when the boarding party ran into Nyx.  Flurry's thoughts were broken by a sudden silence falling over the comms channels, and she instantly regretted her words. These kids didn’t need horror stories rattling their cages right now.  “Sabre Lead, w-what’s the plan?” One of the pilots asked, a tremor rolling off her voice.  The swarm was swelling in size as more fighters joined the swirl. The changelings knew they had the advantage and were taking their sweet time, letting fear seep into the pegasus squadrons. This would make them all the easier to chase down and capture. “We can’t beat that!” Cinnamon cried. “We’ve gotta get out of here!” “Hold, Sabre Three,” Blitz ordered. “Sabre Lead, do we engage or retreat?”  “I…” Swan stammered, stunned shock overtaking her voice. The swarm spun to face them in unison, having swelled to an intimidating size. It was like a huge spiked beast turning its gaze on a beleaguered challenger for its prize. “Winds preserve us,” a pilot gasped. Flurry let out a snort. She hadn’t come this far and given so much for it all to fall apart now. A plan quickly formed in her head; all she needed to do was motivate the right pony. “Sabre Lead, form up behind me. We’re going to punch right through them,” she said. She brought her wings down slowly, increasing the thrust to the engines gradually and easing the Dream forward. “F-Flurry, what are you doing?” Swan asked, her voice shaking off some of the stunned stupor. “I’ve got soldiers to deliver,” she replied. “I’ll put up a shield in front of us to make a wedge and crack their centre.” “But it’s suicide!” “Way I see it, you’re each worth ten of those bugs out there, meaning we’ve got them outnumbered!” she countered. “Question is, are you pegasi of the Republic or the frightened foals they think you are?!” There was a short pause as the swarm began to surge forward in a torrent. Flurry’s threat indicators went wild as the eye of the swarm focused on her.  “We can beat this, Swan, but I can’t do it alone,” she urged. “Sabre squadron,” Swan said, taking a breath. “Form up behind the Dream, as tight as you can.” “Alright!” Blitz whooped. “You heard her, Sabre, it’s showtime!” There was a chorus of acknowledgments from the others as they quickly formed up in a tight V behind the Dream.  Flurry allowed herself a smile.  “Rapier Lead, do you copy?” Swan called. “Copy, Sabre Lead.” “We’ve got a hornet’s nest of trouble bearing down on us and we wouldn’t want you to miss the fireworks,” Swan said, her voice becoming firmer with each word. “When we break their lines, you hit them in the flank and we’ll catch ‘em in a crossfire.” “We’ll be there in sixty seconds, Sabre Lead.” “Great,” Swan said. “I just hope we last that long.” The swarm split into a broad X shape, the tips streaking outwards like a grasping hand. They would be in firing range in a matter of seconds. “Keep your eyes open for any heavy fighters among them. Those are the controllers,” Flurry said. “Don’t let them isolate you.” Drawing all the magic she could muster, Flurry threw a golden field out from the nose of the Dream. Sweat ran from her brow as the field began to coalesce in front of them. It stretched across and over the trail of fighters behind her, earning awed gasps from the pegasi.  Flurry cast an eye to her magical reserves. She wouldn’t be able to keep this going for long, but this should be over quickly. Drawing in a breath, she brought her crosshairs into the centre of the swarm and pressed down on the triggers. Not quite a glorified bus driver after all. Pulses of golden energy erupted from the Dream’s nose, striking the lead Shuriken and causing it to explode in a bright ball of blue flame. Shuriken drones were barely more than an engine with an attached gun—certainly not enough to withstand a hit from the Dreams guns. Flurry kept her triggers held down, the flashes of light and eruptions of flame almost mesmerizing. Swan and her fighters joined in, the red tracers from their cannons tearing into the mass of ships. They matched the Dream’s moves as they raked the changeling formation with fire. The changelings responded with an onslaught of their own. Blue darts of laser fire glanced off Flurry’s shield as the tight formation of fighters charged into the maw of the beast. The changeling drones fired at them from all sides, the shield rippling as each salvo fell like rain over it. Clenching her teeth, it took almost all her focus to keep the shield intact. If it wavered for even a moment, Swan’s flight would be lost. Flurry winced as the percentage total of her personal magic reserves dropped in ever-increasing increments. It had plummeted substantially in a matter of seconds, and the drain showed no signs of slowing. She could feel the pressure building up at the base of her horn from using so much energy so quickly. She would have to cut her shield if she wanted enough left for the rest of the mission. The ship shuddered as they charged through the flaming remnants of the changeling drones, chunks deflecting off the front of the shield like snow off a plough.  Then, as quickly as it had started, the swarm parted, the centre disintegrating under the fusillade of fire. Sabre squadron emerged from the explosions of the dying ships and out into open space.  Panting, Flurry let the shield drop, the golden field dissipating quickly. As it lowered, she could hear dings and scrapes rattling her hull as the debris from the battle ricocheted off. The cruiser loomed ahead like an angry storm cloud, hurriedly spitting out more drones to replace its losses. “Fleeting Dream, try and get those marines aboard. We’ll keep them busy,” Swan Song called, the fear now gone, replaced with the adrenaline-fueled excitement of battle. “Sabre squadron, follow my turn.” Swan spun and her wingmates followed, turning their noses to face the swarm like knights preparing for their next joust. Their engines glowed brightly as they brought their continuing momentum to a stop, only to race away rapidly. For a bunch of green kids who were nearly wetting their flight suits a minute ago, they had recovered well. Swan Song’s voice led the charge as the rest of her aerie fell in line to face the challenge with confidence. Casting a glance behind her, Flurry saw the changeling swarm mirror their moves, turning to face them once again.  Suddenly, several drones detonated as red tracers tore into them from behind. Rapier squadron streaked into view, firing into the mass of ships as they did so. The swarm’s cohesion began to break down as individual groups broke ranks to pursue their chosen quarry. Chatter exploded over the comms channels as both forces clashed, devolving the battle into a mass furball. Save for the distinctive red and blue flashes of their weapons, it was almost impossible to make out individual ships as they bobbed and weaved through the maelstrom. Flurry wanted to join in and help Sabre squadron, but she had to get Flint and his marines offloaded quickly. There was no telling what was going on aboard the Orion, but she knew Nyx was going to need all the help she could get.  The shrill cry of alarms drew her attention upwards just in time to see three shurikens barrelling towards her. Throwing the Dream into a skid, she felt the press of g-forces against her body as pulse laser fire streaked by. The shurikens had misjudged their speed and would soon overshoot her.  It was the last mistake they’d ever make.  The flight couch made it as natural as if she were actually flying through the air with her own wings. Responding to her movements, combined with the neural link, the Dream’s maneuvering jets fired wildly. Flurry spun the Dream around, bringing her nose in line to where the shurikens would pass by. Squeezing down on the triggers, she sent a stream of golden pulses into their path. Before they could react, they disintegrated in blue flashes of flame, one after the other, leaving wisps of glowing molten metal in their wake. Flurry’s heartbeat fluttered in her chest at the exhilaration of the kill, the old thrill of combat stirring her spirit despite the danger all around her. For once, there were no ambiguities, no regrets, and no need to hold back. These changelings had threatened her family, and she would make them pay.  Her eyes hungrily scanned for her next target when a voice sounded over the ship’s intercom. “Flurry, do you copy?” She blinked, pulling out of her reverie at the sound of Flintlock’s voice. “Oh, umm, yes I copy,” she replied with an awkward chuckle. “How are you colts and fillies doing down there?” Even behind that helmet, Flurry could still see his grin. “Clinging on, no thanks to your driving. We’ve got twenty ponies here who are trying not to throw up in their helmets. I think Easel has already lost his lunch.” He glanced off to the side in sympathy. “Can I get a sitrep?” “Looks like we got a ton of changeling drones to wade through. You and your ponies ready for a fight?” she asked, throwing the Dream into a steep climb to avoid a quartet of shurikens. “Always. What’s the plan?” She frowned as she surveyed the situation. There were too many fighters buzzing around to risk docking. As good as his marines were, her ship would be riddled with holes before they cleared the bay.  Looks like she was just going to have to improvise. “Docking is a bust, so new plan,” she said while rolling the Dream onto her back, then down into a dive to stay below the cruiser’s guns. “I’ll make a pass on the Orion as slow as I can so you ponies can make the jump. You able to handle that, old-timer?” “Why is it that every time I fly with you, it ends with me jumping out of this tin can at high speed towards imminent death?” he asked, shaking his head.  “Force of habit,” she smirked. “You ain’t the first cop I’ve tossed out of my ship.” “That makes me feel so much better.” “I’ll be making my run soon, so you’d better get yourself ready,” she said, her voice softening. “Watch your tail out there, you old coot.” “Stay safe, firecracker,” he replied, giving her a loose salute. <=======ooO Ooo=======> Flintlock cut the channel and walked over to his waiting ponies. They were huddled in a group, crouching low to reduce the effects of the g-forces on their stomachs. Even with the Dream’s gravity spells and inertia dampeners, he could still feel the ship thrash violently from the maneuvers Flurry was putting it through. At times, he worried the CAPS bank would break free and crush them all. Periodically, it would spark and hum as it drew in more energy from the Dream before falling inert again. This indicated an opportunistic friendly craft was flying in formation with them for a moment to get a quick top-up before darting away again. What worried Flint was that the intervals between each recharge cycle were getting shorter. Whatever was going on outside wasn’t good. “Alright ponies, listen up!” he announced, making their heads snap up to look at him. “Change of plans—we’ll be making a zero-g jump onto the Orion, so check your gear.” There were a few gasps and grumbles amongst the gathered marines. The strongest ponies amongst the teams began donning their Attitude Assist Modules while the rest attached their thruster units. Meanwhile, Preacher was busy muttering prayers in that weird language of his. Fire Hawk hopped in place with excitement. “Here I was thinking this was going to be boring!” she exclaimed giddily. “Are we really going up against feral changelings?” “Yes, so make sure your TEI is working, I don’t want any friendly fire in there,” he said as he made his way towards the loading ramp. Fire Hawk chuckled, gleefully mashing her forehooves together. “I run into one of those bugs, there’ll be plenty of fire and none of it friendly,” she muttered. “Everyone be sure to check your targets—we’ve got a lot of civvies in there,” Flint said, eyeing the kirin. “That goes doubly for you, Fire.” “Don’t you worry, chief, only things that need to worry are those bug boys,” she said. There were a few eager nods from the other squads. They had picked up some of the chatter from the pegasi fighting outside and were ready to do their part.  “Okay, fire teams,” Flint announced. “Alpha will secure the bridge and command deck. Bravo Fire Control, Charlie and Delta the hangar bays. Understood?” Each team leader gave him a nod and turned to their teams of four other ponies. “Drop leaders remember, the rest of the team is dependent on you to get them down to the surface,” Flintlock said, pacing between the squads as they hooked up together. “It’s not going to be pretty out there, but follow your training and you’ll make it down safe, understood?” “Yes, sir!” They yelled in unison. The ship’s intercom buzzed and Flurry’s voice boomed across the cargo bay. “Alright, colts and fillies, I’m starting my run. Stand by, sixty seconds.” “Everypony ready?” Flintlock called. “We jump by teams. Delta, you’re first, ending in team Alpha.”  The three earth ponies and two unicorns that made up Delta team stepped up towards the ramp. A faint hissing signalled the cargo bay beginning to depressurize. Through his helmet displays, Flintlock could see the air pressure slowly creeping down to zero. The silence of vacuum was broken only by his own steady breathing through his respirator and the vibrations through his armour. Flint had long since conquered the instinctual terror equines suffered from being enclosed inside a pressure suit. That primitive part of the pony psyche was not prepared for space and needed iron discipline. His only regret was he couldn’t stretch his wings in this thing. For thestrals, and pegasi especially, the lack of wind on their wings was stifling.  “Thirty seconds,” Flurry announced as a pair of spinning, red hazard lights flared to life on either side of the ramp. Flintlock trotted towards his team, currently hooked up to Princess. The muscular mare was the best rated amongst them to handle the drop down to the Orion. “Mag boots on,” he ordered, his suit’s onboard spell golem already activating the necessary enchantments. His feet soon felt heavy as the magnetic plates in his boots activated. The ramp silently lowered, revealing a violently pitching starfield. In the distance, explosions and tracer fire lit up the space around them as the silent battle unfolded. Tiny motes of light, brighter than the stars that made up the backdrop, streaked across the sky, ending in the occasional blue or red flash. Flint’s stomach dropped at the sight, trying to fight off the niggling queasiness brought on by the constant movement. “Are you actually going to point us at the Orion anytime soon?” Flint asked.  “Relax, it’s me,” Flurry assured. The nose of the Dream levelled out, the thrusters on her nose firing off periodically to adjust her course.  “Coming up on the Orion in ten seconds,” Flurry Heart’s voice buzzed through his helmet radio. “I’ll get as close as I can for you.” The bow of the Orion appeared, moving perpendicular to the direction of the Dream. The imposing sea of jutting superstructure, antennas, and turrets gave the distinct impression that they would soon be smashed into or be impaled by them.  Flintlock had to admit, time hadn’t dampened Flurry’s skills. They must have been barely a hundred canters away from the Orion, so close he could practically see the weld lines.  He walked carefully to the edge of the ramp. “Okay ponies, it’s now or never,” Flurry called. “Delta, go!” Flintlock shouted, pointing towards the open ramp. Together, the team leapt from the ramp, clumped around their drop leader, their momentum carrying them forward along the Orion’s hull. With efficiency born of experience and training, each team jumped off the ramp and into the expanse. A few ponies hesitated, naturally, but they were a team and nopony was going to let their squadmates down. Eventually, only Flint’s squad remained. “Best for last, eh chief?” Echo chuckled as they walked up to the ramp’s edge. “Somepony has to keep an eye on you lot,” he said, giving her a pat on the shoulder.  They were each tethered onto Princess, who stepped forward with resolve. “You’ve got this, Princess,” Flint assured as he hooked himself onto her harness. “Yeah, probably the only thing you’re really good at!” Fire Hawk chuckled as they shuffled towards the drop. Princess said nothing, already deep in concentration for the drop ahead. Taking a breath, Flint mentally prepared himself, experience numbing the fear clawing in the back of his mind.  “Ready?” Flint asked, getting nods from them all. “Go!” Leaning back, they killed the spell on their boots and leapt from the ramp. “Okay, Flurry, all teams away,” he called, looking back at the retreating Dream spinning on her axis. Her engines glowed white-hot as she narrowly avoided a burst of flak from the cruiser’s turrets. “I copy, watch your tails down there,” Flurry replied. Turning back, his heads-up display showed the trajectory of his plummet. Thin blue lines marked the path they were following, with a distance-to-target indicator appearing on the right side of his HUD. “Get ready to fire braking thrusters,” Flintlock said. “I copy,” Princess replied, firing off periodic jets from her thruster pack, gently adjusting their trajectory.  The Orion’s hull was already rushing up to meet them as they plummeted towards its surface. “Detach in five,” Flint announced, as the proximity sensor rapidly ticked down. “Echo, you’re first.” “Copy, chief.” “Four.”  Princess rotated her thruster nozzles and fired off a prolonged burst to slow their forward momentum, the vibration from the motor running through their tethers. With careful precision, she began to spin their group. “Three.” Everyone reached for the release clasp on their harness. Their timing would have to be perfect, otherwise they’d slam into the hull or be tossed out into space. “Two.” Flint looked to his squad one last time, giving them a nod. “One.” Barely thirty canters from the deck, they released themselves from the group one by one, the jerk of each release slowing Princess’ spin. The rest of his team disappeared from view, being replaced by blue outlines on his HUD. Breathing in long deep breaths, he focused on keeping himself between the guidelines while relaying the information to Princess. It was a lot like flying in a way, the attitude thrusters on his back mimicking his wings while jets on his hind legs acted as a rudder. The big difference was the lack of wind whistling in his ears and brushing against his face. All he could hear was the thumping of his heart, so loud now, in the silence of the vacuum. Something streaked past him so fast that his eyes barely even registered, causing him to bank away out of reflex. “Easel, there’s a drone coming right at you!” a voice belonging to a mare in fire team Charlie yelled over the radio.  “Where, I don’t—” The stallion’s voice was suddenly cut off. Flintlock cursed in frustration, but there was little he could do. Getting down was the priority now, and the main body of the Orion was getting closer and closer by the second.  Firing off the jets on his back, he leveled himself out and aimed for the landing point where the rest of his team was touching down. He approached it rapidly, at a speed that caused warnings to flash inside his helmet. The slightest miscalculation now would send him tumbling off into the void.  As Flint approached the landing point, he angled his body, bringing his hind legs to face his direction of travel. Firing off measured bursts from the jets in his legs, he began to slow his momentum.  “Warning, thruster malfunction,” the golem in his helmet announced, the jets on his legs spluttering before failing completely.  “Chief!” Echo called, as he swept past the drop zone and began a precarious transit over the Orion’s port wing. Easy, don’t panic, remember your training, he reassured himself, trying to calm his rocketing heartbeat. He checked his suit’s systems quickly, testing his remaining jets to ascertain which ones were still working. His hoof-mounted thrusters were gone, but the ones on his back still functioned.  Okay, I can work with this, Flint thought, angling his thruster jets forward and firing off a prolonged burst, pushing him closer and closer to the wing. That might have solved the height problem, but he was still moving down the wing at a rapid pace.  Only one thing for it, he lamented. This was going to hurt.  Reaching out with his hooves towards the hull plating streaking past, he activated his hoof magnets, pulling him down to connect with the hull. He clenched his teeth as the jerk from the impact threatened to pull his legs out of their sockets. He skidded across the hull, sparks arcing off his boots as his body scraped across the Orion’s wing. For a brief moment, his hooves left the deck, his body tumbling for a second before the magnets found their grip again. Eventually he finally came to a stop, his body coming to an ungraceful halt in a heap on the wing.  Flintlock let out a groan as he gave his limbs a few tentative flexes and was thankful that he hadn’t broken anything. He wouldn’t be tap dancing anytime soon, but he could at least move, which meant he was still in the fight.  The radio crackled to life, causing Flint’s ears to perk as Fire Hawk’s voice came through. “Hey, chief? You still alive?” “You ain’t getting off that easy,” Flint replied, groggily clamoring to his hooves. “Echo and Priest are with me at the airlock. Can you see us?” Fire Hawk asked.  He looked up to the stepped superstructure leading up towards the Orion’s enormous dorsal wing. Nestled in an alcove, he could see a blue strobe light blinking and a few distant figures.  “I got ya. Headin’ there now,” Flint said, aiming himself towards them and pushing himself off the hull. “Is Princess there with you?”  “She’s hulking her way over as we speak,” Fire chuckled.  “That’s a relief, I’ll be there soon,” he replied.  Why do they have to make these ships so damn big! he grumbled to himself as he moved across the wing, periodically giving himself a short push now and again to keep himself orientated.  “Alpha Lead on the move,” he announced. “Team leaders, sound off.” “Delta, all landed safely.” “Bravo, all safe.”  There was silence for a moment before the commlink crackled to life once again. “Charlie here. Easel and Rosebud are gone. Changeling drone got Easel, and Rosebud misjudged her landing.” Charlie’s team leader, Honeydew, an earth pony mare of some experience, sounded hollow over the radio. Her voice cracked as she spoke. Their unit had barely formed, and they were already down two members. “Charlie. Regroup with Delta and back them up,” Flint said softly. As much as it hurt, he had to keep them moving. “Copy, Alpha Lead,” Honeydew responded, her voice levelling to a degree. “We won’t let you down.” With grim resolve he continued along his path, the dorsal wing of the Orion looming above him like the tower of a fortress. “Chief, you’d better get that wrinkly old flank moving. It looks like you’re about to have some company,” Fire Hawk said, the concern in her voice enough to spur him on. Flintlock glanced upwards and saw the glint of blue metal from a changeling Shuriken barreling down towards him from above. He broke into a sprint, hopping across the Orion’s hull in long jumps with the aid of his one working thruster. Staying out in the open was suicide; his weapons just didn’t have the punch to deal with this attacker. He needed to get to cover and fast.  As he jumped, a torrent of searing blue pulses fell silently around him, breaking up into showers of sparks as they struck the hull. He skidded to a stop, the stream of bolts running ahead of him as a trio of Shurikens swooped overhead.  “Move your flank!” Princess urged. “They’re making another pass!” He couldn’t help but smile—even at work, there was always a mare telling him what to do.  Scurrying towards the alcove of the airlock, he spotted Princess frantically waving to him. Echo was crouched by the airlock controls with Fire Hawk and Priest on either side.  Panting, he cast a glance upwards, scanning the space above him for his pursuers, and sure enough, he saw them banking in for another run. As Flintlock looked back, he saw Princess emerge, spinning up her gatling cannon.  “I’ll cover you!” she shouted, bracing herself before letting loose a stream of blue bolts over his head.  He didn’t dare look back as he rushed towards the shelter of the alcove. Flintlock barely made it to safety before the blue rain fell once again. He and Princess dived back into cover as bolts struck all around them, glancing off the hull plating like water. Even with its shields offline, the Orion’s armour was evidently formidable. “Any progress with the airlock, Echo?” he panted, pressing his back against the alcove’s wall. Echo had already plugged a mini-CAPS cell into the door’s panel and was furiously tapping away on the schematic projected by her holo-brace. “I need two minutes, boss. The panel’s dead and I need a cold reboot to get it running,” the mare replied, not looking up from her work. “We ain’t gonna last thirty seconds at this rate,” Princess huffed. “You could go out there and be a distraction, waving that big cannon around for ‘em,” Fire Hawk joked. “I could offer you a prayer if you like,” Priest said with a tone that somehow felt sincere and mocking at the same time as he took careful aim at the drones.  “I swear when this is over…” the earth pony mare snorted.  “Enough, all of you!” Flintlock snapped, rubbing his chin with a hoof then feeling awkward when it merely thumped against his helmet. Princess was right, of course. All it would take is one of those things finding the right angle and they were done for. They’d need a little help. He gazed upwards to see several of Swan’s fighters dueling with their foes overhead. “Alpha Lead to any friendlies, my team is pinned down by the Orion’s port airlock near the base of the dorsal wing. We need support on my beacon,” he called, switching frequencies on his suit’s radio. “Could really use some help down here.” Flintlock looked up towards the Shurikens lining up for another run. “Right now would be good.” Damn it, Flurry, where are you? he thought, pulling his rifle from its holster and clasping it in his forehooves. Might as well scratch their paintwork a bit before I die. “Let’s give these bugs a warm reception,” he said, getting nods from the others. Flintlock poked his head out of cover and carefully took aim. He quickly fired off a few bursts and was disappointed to see them glance harmlessly off the drone’s hull. Princess and Priest joined in as well, with Princess liberally spraying the space in front of them while Priest took his time.  The zebra slowly took aim with his DMR, leading the target before squeezing off three shots in rapid succession and was rewarded with one of the drones veering wildly off, trailing smoke behind it before impacting on the port wing below.  “Show off,” Fire Hawk grumbled. Having no weapons of use at that range, the kirin simply chose a torrent of expletives, a tiny lick of flame bursting from her suit’s vents. “Focus your fire!” Flint ordered, picking the lead ship as his target.  They opened fire in unison, pulse laser blasts striking all around them as the changelings returned fire. Flintlock recoiled as his vision was blinded for a moment by a flash of light from a bolt landing a little close for comfort. His helmet’s visor barely reacted in time to filter out the flash. The changelings were now aiming to wipe them out, getting closer and closer as each second passed.  As the drones closed in for their final run, a flurry of red tracers tore into the changeling formation, the first exploding, while the second spiralled off trailing black smoke.  They caught the welcome sight of a pegasus Swallow as it streaked by overhead, the pilot performing a corkscrew before pulling up sharply. “Alpha Lead, Rapier Six, your skies are clear for now.” Looking up, Flintlock grinned. “Thanks for the assist, Rapier. Drinks are on me when we get back.” As the Swallow pulled up, Flint gasped as he saw more Shruikens sweep up on the fighter from below. “Rapier Six, you’ve a trio of bogies coming up behind…” his voice trailed off as he saw them open fire. The Swallow pitched and tried to avoid its pursuers, but it was too late. A bolt struck just behind the cockpit, causing the ship to lose power and spiral out of control. The drones fell on the wounded ship like jackals, getting as close as possible and riddling the defenceless fighter as it drifted. It exploded shortly after with a blue flash of flame, the pilot’s scream lost in a final shrill of static over the radio. “Damn,” Princess muttered quietly, lowering her head. “They’re really getting torn up out there.” “All we can do is keep moving,” he said grimly, looking back. “Echo, how’s the door coming?”  “Just another… and got it!” she exclaimed, the pistons springing open one by one.  The thick outer hatch of the airlock swung open with a waft of ice crystals. Fluorescent lighting flickered on, revealing a pristine white airlock, like it was fresh out of the packet. “Okay, ponies,” he said, kicking off the side of the alcove and drifting inside. Their hooves suddenly connected with the floor as the welcome pull of gravity took hold. “Now, the easy part is over. Let’s get to work.” <=======ooO Ooo=======> Swan Song breathed heavily into her helmet, fighting to get more oxygen into her weary body. Her flight muscles burned, desperately screaming at her for respite from their ordeal. The rapid, desperate thumps of her heartbeat pounded in her ears in an almost deafening cacophony.  The weariness of the last forty-eight exhausting hours was only being kept at bay by the steady dose of adrenaline coursing through her veins.  Her ship wasn’t faring much better. The engines whined at an ever-increasing pitch, a heavy vibration rippling through the battered airframe like the convulsions of a dying animal. Through her links to the ship, she could sense numerous tears in the fuselage and failing systems beneath. She didn’t dare look at the plethora of warning indicators flashing incessantly in the corner of her eye.  They both needed a short respite, her to catch her breath and her ship to cool down before it shook itself apart. Swan couldn’t say how long it had been since Flurry had led the charge towards the Orion. Time had become a mad blur of flashes of light and sound. All she could cling to now was the forlorn hope that the Glorium would arrive soon to relieve them. Around her, the battle was still raging, with ships streaking by in a desperate dance for survival. Red and blue tracers flashed across her view, punctuated by explosions that filled the space around her. She had only seen such a sight in the news vids from the war. To be amongst it was both beautiful and terrifying at the same time. “Sabre Lead, I’ve got three drones on my tail!” Cinnamon Swirl cried, her voice desperate and laced with fear. “I can’t shake them!” Swan shook her head to clear the daze.  “Hold on, Sabre Three, I’m on my way,” she replied, scanning the battle and spotting the  desperately jinking Swallow fighter trying to escape its pursuers. “Sabre Two, let’s get to it.” “Copy, Sabre Lead,” Blitz replied. “Right behind you.” Swan banked towards her embattled friend, urging her wounded ship to full speed once more. Blitz took up position to cover her as she dove into the chase. Cinnamon’s Swallow was heading close to one of the asteroids on the periphery, hoping to lose her pursuers amongst the debris. They had followed, like a pack of sky mantas chasing down a cloud whale. They were toying with her, firing a few bursts periodically to keep her jinking, wearing her out for the kill.  As Swan closed in, she spotted a larger fighter following behind the drones. Maybe three times their size, it looked like a jagged dagger, its profile broken by serrated edges running up its top. Towards the tail was a large engine nozzle, spewing a stream of blue light from its exhaust.  Was this one of those controllers Flurry had spoken of? It seemed too focused on the chase to notice her pulling up behind it. Unlike its smaller brethren, this ship’s movements were slower and less frenetic. It was almost casual, moving only to avoid the occasional stray chunk of rock drifting into its path. “Hurry Swan, I can’t keep this up much longer!” Cinnamon’s desperate cry begged over the radio.  “Don’t worry, Cinnamon, I’ve got them,” Swan said.  She squeezed the triggers as soon as the enemy drifted into her crosshairs. Red bolts of charged arcane energy streaked towards their target, creating glowing slags of molten metal on its hull as they impacted. The controller lurched, a plume of grey smoke trailing behind it. The controller attempted to spin on its axis, trying to bring its nose turrets to bear on her, but it was a fatal mistake. As it spun, it exposed its broadside to her and she took full advantage. Raking the fighter with several shots, a blast hit just behind the section connecting the main fuselage to the engine. Swan watched with satisfaction as the controller’s engine sheared off, its engine zigging wildly for a few seconds before exploding. The three remaining Shurikens jerked and then spiralled away lazily like their guiding strings were cut. She and Blitz finished them quickly before another controller ship could claim them. “Sabre Three, are you okay?” Swan asked, her eyes scanning for any more threats.  “I-I’m fine, thank you,” Cinnamon said shakily. “Where’s Sabre Four?” Swan asked. “He’s gone, Swan. He tried to keep them off me and—” Cinnamon’s voice cracked and fell into a gentle sob. Swan clenched her teeth and bit back a curse. Another dear friend gone and she hadn’t even heard his cry. This battle had cost her more friends and comrades than she dared think about. Every final cry she had heard over the radio had been like a stake driven into her heart. These were her precious ponies, and she’d led them into a massacre.  “What’ll we do, Swan? There won’t be anypony left at this rate,” Cinnamon asked, desperation now in her voice.  Swan closed her eyes, feeling anger well up inside her at her own impotence. She was their Aerie leader; her ponies looked to her for answers, but she had none to give. This was so far beyond her experience. She let out a sigh. “Form up behind me, help is coming—we just need to hold on.” “How long until the carrier gets here?” Cinnamon asked. “Twenty minutes,” Blitz said.  Twenty minutes! How many of us will be left by then? Swan asked herself. That was, of course, if the carrier was even still coming at all. With comms being jammed, that piece of shit Downdraft would likely order them to retreat if he thought things were going badly enough. He was probably halfway back to Harmony by now, inventing a heroic lie to hide his disgrace. They would not be receiving any reinforcements. “How is everypony’s fuel levels?” Swan asked, shaking off her morbid thoughts. “My CAPS are nearly spent,” Blitz replied. “Mine too,” Cinnamon whimpered. Swan checked her energy gauge and saw it blinking a warning at her. At this rate, they would run dry in the next few minutes. “Has anypony seen the Fleeting Dream?” Swan asked. “I-I haven’t seen her since we got scattered,” Cinnamon replied.  “Damn it,” she cursed.  What had been a simple covering maneuver had devolved into a dozen smaller dogfights. Nothing in her academy training had prepared her for this, and now she had lost sight of the ship they were dependent on for recharging. The alicorn had likely dropped her marines off before joining them aboard the Orion. Getting to her cousin had always been her top priority. Flurry had gotten what she needed from Swan and her blackwings, and now they were being left to die. In the end, despite all her big talk, Last Shadow had left them just like everypony else. Swan swallowed. “Let’s get back into the fight. We need to regroup with the others.” She banked her ship upwards, charging back into the maelstrom. “Right behind you, Sabre Lead,” Blitz called. “I’m with you, Swan,” Cinnamon said shakily.  Swan spotted two more of Sabre squadron engaged with at least a dozen Shuriken drones and headed there as fast as her wounded ship would carry her.  “Sabre Ten, we’re coming to assist, at your four o’clock low,” she said. “Where… I see you!” Came a frantic reply, the mare’s voice frayed. “We’ll try and bring the fight your way.” “Sabre Two, you try and outflank them, Sabre Three stay on my wing,” she said, picking out her targets. “Watch your tails.” “Same to you, Sabre Lead,” Blitz said, banking away. “Cinnamon, just stay with me, okay?”  “I copy, Sabre Lead,” Cinnamon said with fragile determination in her voice. Swan allowed herself a small smile as they dove in together. They might be outnumbered and surrounded, but her ponies weren’t going to go down without a fight.  The drones were moving in groups of six, trying to pin her pilots down in a crossfire. She could see her fighters ducking and weaving, trying to cover each other as they moved.  “Sabre Three, we’ll make a quick pass, try and get as many as we can,” Swan said, picking out her targets. “I copy, Sabre Lead.” She urged her ship up to full throttle, feeling her wings protesting as her ship accelerated. The vibration increased once again, and she briefly fought with the controls to keep herself steady. In the corner of her eye, she saw her energy levels drop to critical. Come on, just hold together, she prayed. They closed in, just as one of her flight made a roll and dived low. A clump of drones were in the process of following them when she and Cinnamon struck. Firing in carefully controlled bursts, she picked off two drones before they even realised they were under attack. Cinnamon managed to get another two as they spun to react to the new threat. Blitz came barreling in from the other side, guns blazing, aiming for those trying to escape the trap. The hunters quickly became the hunted as the pack of Shurikens found itself hemmed in from all sides. The Swallows that Swan had rescued now joined the attack on their beleaguered foe, causing the changeling formation to collapse as more and more were picked off.  “They’re running!” Blitz cried as the survivors cut and run, joining their controllers in a dash back to the cruiser.  “Thanks for the assist, Sabre Lead,” Sabre Eight said. Their elation was short-lived as their scanners lit up with yet more contacts coming their way. At least eighteen new drones and their controllers were heading their way from the cruiser. This is endless, she thought. The Shurikens formed into a broad X, gathering the survivors of the previous fight into its ranks. “Damn, they really don’t like us,” Blitz commented. “Probably sore from their flanks getting whooped.” Swan allowed herself a smile. She could imagine him stomping his hooves and flaring his wings defiantly at the approaching enemy.  “Let’s get ready to give them a warm welcome,” she said. “Now you’re speaking my language,” he replied. Blitz and Cinnamon came up to join her on either side, with Sabre Seven and Eight taking up position behind them. Despite his words, she knew he was running on empty just as much as she was. She could hear the faint pant in his breath and the weariness hidden in his voice. Neither of them had much left, but she felt comforted to have him and what was left of her squadron at her back. A series of warnings lit her vision as the drones began to close into gun range. “It’s been an honour,” she began. “Sorry kid, gonna have to ruin your little moment,” a voice interrupted. An explosion behind the drones rendered six of the Shurikens inert, the now lifeless drones spiralling out of formation. From the fire, the Fleeting Dream burst forth with several Swallows following behind her.  The remaining drones spun to face their new threat, but Flurry Heart effortlessly wove through the formation with the grace of a dancer. Swan didn’t think it was possible for such a large ship to move as it did. The Dream arced and pirouetted through the drones, swatting them down with casual ease. Swan could only watch in awe as the alicorn laid waste to the gathered horde. Flurry hadn’t abandoned them!  “I picked up a few stragglers around the Orion and brought them here,” Flurry said. “Good to see you, Sabre Lead,” Rapier Lead said, coming in above them with the remnants of his squadron. “After we merged with the enemy, everypony got separated. If Flurry hadn’t helped us out…” “She helped you?” “Of course I did,” Flurry interrupted. “You’re my comrades. I wasn’t going to leave my aerie hanging now, was I? You’d best recharge while we have a lull in the action.” Their advantage now broken, the changelings retreated back to the cruiser, but this time did not return. The drones circled their mothership, as if pondering their next move. Regardless, Swan welcomed the reprieve.   The Fleeting Dream took position between them and the Orion. Flurry’s ship now bore a few new scorch marks on her hull.  Swan breathed a sigh of relief as the energy transfer began, slowly replenishing her Swallow’s CAPS cells. “Sorry for the wait, it took me a while to round everypony up,” Flurry said. “I’m just glad you’re here, we were on our last spark,” Blitz said, relief heavy in his voice. Flurry’s voice was calm and determined, the voice of a veteran of countless battles. There was no hint of weariness there. In fact, she seemed almost eager for the next fight. Despite her fears and doubts about the Glorium, Swan couldn’t help but feel reassured by the alicorn’s words. The fact that she was still there fighting alongside them was enough, all by itself, to restore Swan’s confidence.   “Okay everypony, let’s get ready to—”  Several explosions rocked their formations as flak bursts from the cruiser erupted around them. The ship had turned broadside onto them and was now showering them with shots from its dorsal batteries. Swan let out a gasp as her ship was rocked by a near-miss. Red hot shrapnel peppered her ship, sending a sharp pain through her wings as the link registered impacts. An outline of her fighter appeared with several sections of the wing now glowing red. The drones reformed in a broad wall formation, now bolstered by new arrivals from the carrier. They waited just outside the flak zone for anypony to dare a breakout. “Looks like they’re done throwing their drones at us,” Flurry snorted.  “We can’t stay here!” Blitz cried. “Those guns will tear us to pieces.” “And go where? They’ll chase us down if we try and run,” Swan retorted, frustration seeping into her voice at being unable to hit back at their foe. There was a flash and a cut off cry as one of her ships exploded from a nearby flak burst. “Swan, I need you and the rest of your ponies to make a run for the big asteroid close to the houndrathi debris field,” Flurry said. “Make it look as disorganised as you can.”  Another explosion rocked her ship, and Swan gritted her teeth. “No problem doing that,” she snorted sarcastically. “I assume there is a plan?”  “Hey, it’s me… there’s always a plan.”