Oakheart squirmed awkwardly in his seat, the luxurious cushions on the bridge of the Glorium feeling more distracting than comfortable. The Alliance warships that he had served on felt more at home with their spartan furnishings than this gaudy mobile palace.
“Comms, have we had any word from them yet?” he asked, casting a glance towards the communication station.
“Nothing yet, sir,” the stallion sitting at the station replied.
Oakheart clenched his teeth, a silent sigh of frustration seeping out. It had been over a half-hour since they had heard anything from Flurry Heart or the strike team. They had lost contact only moments after they had jumped into the system and found the Orion. Anything could have happened since then, but all Oak could do was sit and wait while the Glorium trudged through Mirrorspace far more slowly than he would have liked.
When he had commanded an Alliance cruiser, he was part of the action, together with his crew. He felt connected to events, just as those under him were, but here, he was detached and adrift. It frustrated him to no end, but he did his best to hide it from the carrier’s crew.
“Thank you, petty officer. Let me know the moment anything changes,” he replied, giving the officer a nod.
“Aye, sir.”
The difference between the officers and the rest of the crew on the Glorium was startling. While most of the bridge officers moped around their stations, chatting or even sleeping, their underlings sat dutifully at their posts, paying keen attention to their instruments.
The lack of discipline shown by these officers in front of their juniors turned Oakheart’s stomach. They were meant to set an example for the rest of the crew. Instead, they lounged around like they were on a pleasure cruise.
“You know, captain, you should really learn to relax a little,” came a slightly slurred voice from the seat beside him.
Then there was this fool.
Oakheart looked over to where Shipmaster Downdraft sat slumped in his throne-like chair. The pegasus was idly drawing in another gulp of aerohol from his shisha pipe, surrounded by a thin haze of smoke.
Downdraft was a perfect example of everything Oak hated about the pegasi—their preening arrogance disgusted him. When they had first arrived on Harmony, Oakheart had done everything he could to just not deal with them. All the delays, the negotiations, and the petty ignorance had been tolerated only because he had hoped that it would be temporary. Now that he was in amongst them, he felt an old anger gently simmering like a dormant volcano.
“Shouldn’t you be more concerned?” Oakheart asked. “Not a word from your squadrons for thirty-five minutes and you’re just sitting there?”
“Why should I care? This is your show, captain,” Downdraft sneered. “I’m just here as a liaison. You should be grateful to even be here.”
Oakheart narrowed his eyes, resisting the urge to knock the arrogant pegasus right out of his chair. He idly wondered if Flurry Heart was beginning to have a bad influence on him. While unconventional, her methods cut right to the point and were extremely effective. Unfortunately, without her around, Downdraft and the rest of the officers were beginning to find their backbone again.
“I wonder,” Downdraft continued. “Why are you suddenly so concerned about our blackwings? It’s not like you bothered with them before.”
“They’re under my command,” he replied. “It’s my job to make sure everypony gets back safe, blackwing or not.”
“My, how quaint, the war hero showing concern for his former enemy,” Downdraft mocked. “Maybe when this is over, I can send a few to your quarters to show their appreciation. You seemed quite interested in our little Swan.”
There were a few stifled chuckles from his inner circle.
“Of course I am—she’s the only capable officer amongst you,” Oakheart retorted, giving his best polite smile.
Downdraft let out a snort, nearly choking on his aerohol. “You insolent—”
“Present company excepted, of course,” he lied.
Downdraft fluffed his wings, muttering something under his breath.
Yes, Flurry is definitely a bad influence, he thought to himself.
As much as it irked him, there was a sliver of truth in Downdraft’s observation. He’d had little contact with Lieutenant Swan Song since her arrival, hearing only reports of the odd scuffle with the deck crews. At the time, he had thought her just another rowdy pegasus causing trouble. Even after hearing the rumours of how badly Merry had treated them, he had done nothing, simply wanting them off his station.
Then, he had seen their living conditions.
He was beginning to see what drove the young pegasus—a strong desire to protect her own. It wasn’t far removed from his own tribe’s feelings towards clan and kin.
“Umm, sir,” a voice broke Oakheart from his chain of thought. “We’re getting a weak signal from the flight group.”
“Put it on speakers,” he said, straightening himself.
“Sabre Seven, watch your tail, he’s coming around again!”
“I got it, I got it!”
“Five more coming in, five o’clock high!”
“My engine’s out! I’m losing control—”
A myriad of panicked voices echoed across the bridge of the Glorium like the wails of the damned. In an instant, everyone’s ears were perked and alert, even the officers taking notice.
Oakheart felt his chest tighten. They were under attack, and it sounded like things were getting desperate. He had to find out what was happening.
“Put me through to Sabre Lead,” he ordered.
“I’m trying, sir, but the signal keeps cutting in and out,” the comms officer stammered, rattled by what he had just heard.
“The Fleeting Dream then,” Oakheart said. “We have to find out what’s going on.”
“…captain?” came a garbled response from Flurry Heart.
“Clean that up!” he said, a little louder than he meant to.
“I must have hit something important. Can you read me?” Flurry called, now a little clearer.
“Yes, we read you, what’s the situation?” Oakheart asked.
“Flintlock and friends are away, but we’re getting cut to pieces out here,” she replied. “You boys had better be comin’ soon or there won’t be anyone left to greet you.”
“We’re coming, just hold on,” he assured as a stream of data poured onto several holo-windows.
The situation was dire. Sabre and Rapier squadrons had already lost over half their number to enemy drones, and there was still that cruiser to deal with.
Oakheart felt no shortage of disgust as he stared at the grainy images of the former Alliance cruiser on the view screens. To see a proud earth pony ship desecrated and corrupted like that sickened him to his core. It was an insult to the brave ponies that once crewed her.
Although the whole bottom of the ship was corrupted, it still possessed a formidable armament, which it was now putting to terrible use.
“Tell Sabre Lead to have her ships withdraw outside the range of their flak batteries,” Oakheart said. “Limit your attacks until we get there. Our ETA is twenty minutes.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve had an idea, I’ll fill you in when you get clos—” Flurry was then cut off by a loud shrill of static and then dead silence, the signal lost once more.
He looked over to the comms station, where the crew was working frantically.
“Can you get her back?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.
“No sir, we lost the feed,” came a fearful reply. They winced as if they were afraid he would come over and beat them.
“Damn it,” Oakheart cursed. “Divert as much power to the engines as we can. We have to get there faster.”
“That’s quite enough, captain,” Downdraft announced. “You’ve had your fun, but now I’m taking command.”
Downdraft staggered from his seat and straightened his uniform. “It’s obvious the battle is lost. I will not risk any more of my lord’s equipment nor the safety of his flagship.”
“Your pilots are dying out there!” Oakheart retorted, gesturing to the data streams.
“And?” Downdraft replied with a shrug. “Harmony will compensate us for lost equipment. Do not fear, captain, the Republic can always send us more blackwings. When we return to the station, I will be generous in my report of your conduct. Set a course for the Avalon syst—”
“Belay that,” Oak interrupted, earning a few gasps from the crew. “I was given full authority by your lord for this mission. We continue on course.”
“Lord Merry suspected you’d do something foolish, so he ordered me to intervene if I felt it was necessary,” Downdraft snorted. “You are relieved, captain.”
Downdraft gestured to two of his officers, who fluttered down to either side of Oakheart.
Oakheart thought fast. He was decidedly outnumbered here, so resisting was pointless. He was going to have to get creative.
“And what will you tell your lord upon your return, having lost his new ‘pet’, Flurry Heart? Do you think he would approve of your abandonment of his most prized blackwing because you had concerns for your ship’s safety?” Oakheart asked, feeling his chest tighten from exploiting the mare’s predicament.
Downdraft paused, swallowing hard. “His Lordship doesn’t need to know the details. All I need to say is that Last Shadow was lost because of your insistence that she launch early.”
“You could… But this data says otherwise, doesn’t it?” Oakheart said, tapping on his holo-brace to transfer the data. “And I will be giving Lord Merry and the Director a full report.”
“You wouldn’t…”
“Now, we can stand here arguing, or you can help me save those ponies out there. Then, when we return to the station, I will be generous in my report of your conduct,” he said as a slight smile crept onto his lips. “But mark my words, if the Director learns you abandoned her daughter and niece out there, she’ll pin your balls to her wall.”
“You…” Downdraft gulped, the conflict almost visibly rattling inside the stallion’s head. His wings fluttered, a heavy frown forming on his brow.
“The clock is ticking, shipmaster,” Oakheart pressed. “We don’t have time to waste.”
Eventually, Downdraft’s efforts to weasel out of his predicament were exhausted and the pegasus let out a frustrated sigh. “Very well, we will continue as planned.”
Turning away from the defeated pegasus, Oakheart looked to the stunned faces of the crew, a few of them giving him a cautious smile of approval.
“Continue on our course,” Oakheart ordered. “Best possible speed.”
He let out a sigh, feeling his blood pressure beginning to rise at the mere thought of what that insane mare had planned this time.
<=======ooO Ooo=======>
“So, are you ready for the fireworks?” Flurry asked after switching comms off the Glorium’s channel. The carrier had finally gotten close enough that their signal could overcome the Syndicate’s jamming, and Oakheart had been fully briefed.
“This is insane and suicidal, but yes,” Swan conceded.
“That’s the spirit!” she said with a grin, maneuvering the Dream to point towards the exit of their makeshift shelter.
Huddled together inside the borehole of the asteroid Nyx had carved open, Flurry and the survivors of Sabre and Rapier squadrons prepared themselves.
They had powered down to both conceal their energy signature and preserve what little power they had left. Those who were running on empty had recharged from the Dream up to fifteen percent. Looking back, Flurry could barely make out their thermal outlines within the stark shadows of the asteroid. Battered and weary, they all readied themselves for one final push.
“The Glorium arrives in six minutes. Go go go!” Flurry urged.
One by one, the Swallows came to life once more, their running lights like bright stars in the gloom.
“I’m amazed that dirt pony managed to convince Downdraft to come,” Swan commented.
“Yeah! Merry is going to be pissed when he hears about this!” Blitz said with a laugh.
“Never underestimate the stubbornness of an earth pony,” Flurry said. “That Oakheart isn’t somepony you want to take lightly.”
“I hear that,” Swan agreed. “Is everypony ready?”
“Are you ready, Whammy?” Flurry asked, feeling the comforting weight of the plushie pressed against her chest. “Let’s go do something stupid.”
With a downward thrust of her wings, her engines roared into life. The Dream burst from the asteroid like an arrow shot from a bow, streaking back towards the Orion.
Behind her, Swan and her comrades formed up into broad V formation around her once again. It was a repeat of their first charge at the changeling cruiser, only this time, things would be a little different.
They dove down deeper into a cluster of asteroids, approaching the Syndicate cruiser from below. With all that gunk and hangar space, it made for quite the blind spot to attack from. At the very least, they wouldn’t have to deal with much flak as they approached.
Flurry gazed upward, the Dream’s sensors quickly highlighting the cruiser and the Orion above them. Even at this distance, the Orion was huge, dwarfing everything around her. The massive ship’s broad wings glinted in the sunlight, looking majestic. Now, all they had to do was clean off all the junk clinging to her.
Circling both ships was a reinforced cluster of drones along with their controllers. They buzzed around like a swarm of angry hornets that’d just had their nest kicked.
Flurry felt a smile creeping onto her muzzle as she looked up at them. All she needed to do was annoy them enough so they would give chase. It was a good thing that annoying people to distraction was one of her special talents.
Suddenly, a blizzard of angry-red threat indicators lit up her vision. It seemed that their dance partners had spotted them.
“Okay, stick to the plan,” Flurry said, fighting her rising excitement. “Make one pass and run like hell. I’ll deal with the rest.”
“You heard her,” Swan said as the formation pulled up together to begin their run on the cruiser.
“Right behind you, Sabre Lead,” Blitz said.
Flurry brought the Dream’s engines to full power, a deep rumble running through the ship as she accelerated. She wove around and between the smaller asteroids, hoping to confuse the cruiser’s targeting sensors.
They were soon met by thick puffs of exploding flak ahead of them as the cruiser turned what guns it could on them. She could see the muzzle flashes from within the growth along its belly.
The Dream rattled briefly, a tiny blossom of pain running down Flurry’s side as if she had brushed against a thorn bush. The shrapnel from the flak burst mostly bounced off her hull like hail during a storm, but it would be enough to rip straight through one of Swan’s fighters.
“They’re getting mighty close,” a worried voice buzzed on the radio.
“Steady, Rapier Four,” Swan replied, though she sounded a bit rattled too.
The flak eased, only to be replaced by an avalanche of drones as they dove down to meet them. Red and blue tracer fire lit up the space between them as both groups charged into each other.
Flurry wove through the mass, picking off anything stupid enough to get in her way. Swan and her fighters continued onwards with her, this time not breaking off to engage the drones in another melee.
Their move took the changelings by surprise, the drones slowing as their quarry raced past them.
A chorus of launch calls went through Swan’s group as they let loose nearly all their missiles into the belly of the cruiser. White contrails streaked into the bloated growths, satisfying explosions tearing into its twisted form. It wasn’t enough to do any meaningful damage, but it served its purpose.
Glancing back, Flurry saw Swan’s fighters breaking away and making a run for the shelter of the asteroid field. That just left the Dream and the cruiser.
She flew as close to the cruiser’s hull as she dared, weaving in between the forest of gun emplacements and hull-mounted equipment. She quickly picked out the boarding tubes that had impaled themselves into some of the Orion’s docking hatches.
With carefully aimed bursts from her guns, she cut them open one by one like a gardener pruning a bush. As one burst apart, a host of black figures spilled from it, a screaming feral changeling bouncing off the Dream’s nose as she flew through them.
Flurry’s fun was short-lived as angry blue tracers streaked by her face. Glancing back, she could see a blizzard of threat indicators fill her vision.
“Looks like they’ve taken the bait,” Flurry said with a grin, spinning the Dream and quickly powering off into the open space around the Orion.
As she sped away, something caught her eye. Stretching from the cruiser to the Orion was a series of thick cables. With her attention focused on the boarding tubes she had missed them before, but now the soft glow was hard to ignore. A blue light pulsed in a rhythmic beat through them and into the Orion.
“What are you up to…?” Flurry mused before a blue bolt streaking by her face brought her back to the moment. “Oookay, never mind.”
She ducked and weaved as the swarm of drones pursued her, now seeing her as the more important target.
“Now for the finishing touch,” she chuckled, throwing the Dream into a spin and fluctuating her engine’s output.
Spinning and seemingly out of control, she quickly formed a shield around the Dream. The drones surrounded her, pummelling her mercilessly with their guns.
“Okay, Oakheart, I’ve set the table. Are you ready?” Flurry asked.
“In position,” Oakheart replied. “Just one small issue to take care of. Stand by.”
“Wait, what?”
<=======ooO Ooo=======>
“What do you mean you won’t jump the Glorium into realspace?” Oakheart asked, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.
Standing there, garbed in the purple robes of the Guild, was a middle-aged unicorn mare. She was tall and slender, her blue coat and pink mane both well styled. The bracelets on her forelegs chinked together as she raised a hoof in protest.
“With respect, captain, to attempt a jump here is suicide.”
“I am well aware of the risk, navigator,” he replied sternly. “You have the jump data Flurry Heart sent us, don’t you?”
“Of course, and while the data is… impressive in its accuracy,” she began, the admission sounding forced. “Without something like a physical beacon to lock onto, any ship making the jump risks colliding with an asteroid or even the Orion herself when they emerge. And even then, everything drifts in space, captain—you know that. Those coordinates are likely already compromised.”
“Not to ruin your little tea party, but I’m being bloody shot at out here!” Flurry yelled through the comms channel, her voice making some of the crew jump. At that moment, Oak realised he had left Flurry hanging. He quickly tapped his holo-brace to resume transmitting.
“Our navigator is refusing to jump in with the coordinates you gave us,” Oakheart stated, glaring at the navigator. “She’s demanding an active beacon signal if you’ve got one.”
“Kind of in the middle of a fight here. Nothing I launch would last two seconds,” came her reply. “Just tell her to use her damn brain. Read the gravity shadows, find the gap, and go.”
Oak simply looked back to the navigator, who seemed taken aback at Flurry’s recommendation. She shook her head with a scowl.
“I… don’t think she’s gonna go for that, Flurry.”
There was an unladylike snort from Flurry. “Fine, you want a beacon? Target the jump point on my exact position.” Just then, a light flashed on the navigator’s console confirming a lock-on.
“What?!” he gasped. “You’ll be killed!”
Even Downdraft perked up at this, a look of blind panic in his eyes.
Oakheart did his best to compose himself. He couldn’t let the others see him losing his cool. Even so, he felt his chest tighten. He had already lost too many ponies today, and he couldn’t afford to lose her as well.
“There’s no way you’ll be able to escape the vortex aperture in time,” he said. “There must be another way.”
“You let me worry about that, captain,” she replied. “Relax, I’ve done dumber things than this. Just make sure that amateur doesn’t botch it, okay?”
Oakheart allowed himself a smile. “I’m sure not exploding is sufficient motivation for her.”
He wasn’t sure what it was that made him believe she could do it. The fact she was an alicorn? Was it simply her reputation? Whatever it was quelled the storm that had swept through his emotions.
“Now, will this suffice, navigator?”
The unicorn stood there like she had just swallowed an angry bee.
“It will suffice,” the mare said simply.
“Good, now return to your station and begin jump preparations,” Oakheart ordered.
The mare went to sit down but then glanced over her shoulder. “Just so you know, the Guild will not compensate you in the event of a mirror jump related accident.”
Of course, he thought darkly. One must always think of one’s reputation.
“Duly noted,” he replied, glancing over towards Downdraft, who now looked like he was going to be sick.
Everypony else on the bridge seemed to be looking in the shipmaster’s direction as well, expecting an objection, but the pegasus remained silent. Instead, he consoled himself with long drags from his shisha pipe.
“All stations, prepare to jump,” Oakheart said. “All squadrons ready to launch on my mark.”
“Opening the portal in ten seconds,” the navigator stated, beginning to count down.
<=======ooO Ooo=======>
Swan Song had to admit when Flurry Heart had told them her plan, she never believed the alicorn could pull it off. Even harder to believe was that Oakheart, that lump of pony-shaped granite, had agreed to go along with it.
Yet now, from their vantage point in the asteroid cluster, she watched as Flurry Heart drew the changeling drones to herself.
They quickly surrounded the Fleeting Dream, now lazily spinning, her engines spluttering. The drones began mercilessly pummeling the drifting ship, yet no shots landed. The Dream was enveloped in a golden bubble that rippled with every impact.
“Shouldn’t we help her?” Cinnamon asked nervously.
“No, this is part of her plan,” Swan replied, though she had to admit, she didn’t like just sitting back and watching either.
“Last Shadow had better hurry; the carrier is going to be jumping right on top of her!” Blitz said.
Swan’s sensors lit up as they detected a magical energy surge right where Flurry was still sitting. It was the hallmark of a mirror portal being opened, and sure enough, a tiny pinprick of light appeared. The changelings must have detected it as well, for they began to scatter in every direction in a desperate attempt to flee.
The pinprick suddenly exploded outwards as a tear into mirrorspace formed, the energy waves ripping into the changeling ships. Several simply vanished as the massive outflow of thaumatic energy tore them asunder.
The Fleeting Dream remained still, right up to the point the vortex overtook it. Then… it was gone. Swan could have sworn her sensors showed a flash of golden light at the last instant.
She gasped and frantically checked her readings again, only for the Dream to suddenly appear in front of her in a burst of magic. Her eyes widened as the ship pulled up alongside her.
“Phew, close one there,” Flurry said with a relieved sigh. “Nearly didn’t make it.”
Swan’s mind spun with a myriad of questions over what had just happened, but they were swept aside as the Glorium emerged from the jump vortex. Never had that ostentatious hunk of scrap looked so beautiful as it rammed through the surviving drones. They smashed against the Glorium’s hull, exploding in bright balls of blue fire as it swept them aside.
“Welcome to the party!” Flurry whooped over the radio. “Splattered a few bugs on your windshield when you jumped in!”
Swan had never seen such a sight in her life. It went against everything she had been taught at the academy. Carriers were meant to hang back, outside the battle, not plough straight into the middle of it.
Trust a dirt pony to use their ship like a cudgel, she mused.
From the Glorium’s dorsal launchers, several volleys of missiles roared upwards, streaking vertically before heading towards the cruiser. In the chaos of counter-missile fire, the four hulking shapes of Falchion squadron’s corvettes streaked out from their launch bays like blazing comets.
They were swiftly followed by the torpedo bombers of Tomahawk squadron. The large and distinctive frames of Heron torpedo bombers were easy to distinguish, even from this distance.
“Sabre and Rapier squadrons, return to the carrier,” Oakheart’s calm voice boomed in Swan’s ear.
She had never felt more grateful to hear that dirt pony’s voice than at that moment.
“You heard him, everypony head to the carrier, and be careful not to get hit in the crossfire,” she said, watching the Glorium make a wide arcing turn to starboard.
“You kids be safe now. I’ve still got work to do out here,” Flurry said, roaring off once again.
Swan focused on shepherding the remnants of her unit towards the Glorium, which was currently trying to stay ahead of the cruiser’s long-range guns. She watched with satisfaction as Falchion’s corvettes dove onto the cruiser, strafing its gun turrets. Now that the drones were cleared, it was up to them to clear the way for the bombers.
“Glorium, we’re coming in. We’ve got a lot of wounded birds, so be ready for us,” she said.
“We copy, Sabre Lead, deck crews are standing by,” the flight control officer replied. “Landing bay is open.”
Swan felt a glimmer of relief as she watched her squadmates landing one by one. But the fact that they were exchanging one type of danger for another weighed heavily on her mind. The Glorium was currently engaged in a knife fight with something far better armed than itself. Death was just a lucky hit away.
It was all down to Falchion and Tomahawk now.
“Tomahawk Lead, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Swan called, gazing at the formation of bombers.
“Hey, Sabre Lead, you fillies and colts rest up; we’ll take it from here,” Contrail replied, his bombers splitting off into pairs.
“We’ve cleared out the drones, so that cruiser can’t have many left,” she remarked.
“Quite a party you had here,” Contrail said. “We were worried none of you were going to make it.”
“You don’t get out that easy, Tomahawk Lead,” she chuckled.
“Let’s all have a drink when this is over,” he said. “Okay, Tomahawk squadron, Mother Hen is watching. Let’s make it a good show.”
The first two bombers started their runs as Falchion’s corvettes raced ahead to suppress the flak batteries. It was something even Merry’s cronies had prepared them for, the only difference being this wasn’t the Alliance they were fighting.
Swan knew she should have landed with the rest of her squadron, but instead, she brought her ship to a stop outside the carrier. Her wingmate, Blitz, stayed at her side.
“You coming?” he asked.
“In a moment. I want to watch the rest of the aerie finish the fight.”
The first two Herons went in, idle puffs of flak going off around them. Once they were in range, they loosed their torpedoes, the fighter-sized rockets roaring away from their launchers.
It was a textbook launch, and Swan watched as they headed towards the cruiser’s main long-range cannon. She waited for the flash as the torpedoes struck the target…
Only to watch them detonate harmlessly, thirty canters before impact.
“What? What happened?” Contrail gasped.
“No impact, Tomahawk Lead,” his wingmate said.
Swan frowned. Had they been given defective torpedoes?
Then she saw the familiar energy trails of drones buzzing close to the cruiser.
“What? I thought we bagged them all!” Blitz growled.
“Evidently not,” Swan grumbled, watching as two more torpedoes were shot down before impact.
The Shurikens were hugging the cruiser, only emerging to intercept incoming missiles. At first, there were only two or three, but their numbers were growing.
It was impossible. The cruiser couldn’t possibly have any more drones left!
A bright flash broke her train of thought, and she looked up to see the Glorium’s starboard wing ablaze. The cruiser’s dorsal guns had finally found their mark, tearing at the thin-skinned carrier.
“What’ll we do, Sabre Lead?” Blitz asked. “If those torps can’t take that gun out, the carrier is done for.”
“And we can’t get close enough to clear out the drones,” Swan replied. “If we could just…”
Her voice trailed off as she focused on the cruiser’s drone bays. Shurikens were periodically launching from the bay in groups of ones and twos. The launch tube looked just big enough for...
“I have an idea,” she said. “I’m going to make a run for the cruiser’s drone bay and try to get inside the hangar.”
“Swan, are you insane? You’ll never make it,” Blitz exclaimed.
“Hate to side with Blitz, but he’s right,” Contrail said. “You’ve no idea if you’d even fit or if your ship will get stuck once inside.”
She let out a sigh. They were right, of course. She had no idea if what she was planning was even possible, but she had to try something.
“If we don’t do something soon, the Glorium won’t last ten minutes,” she said bluntly. “If I can damage the launch bay, it might give us a fighting chance. You know I’m right.”
“Then I’ll do it,” Blitz said, the anger rising in his voice.
“No, I have to. You said it yourself, there’s no guarantee it’ll even work,” she said softly. “I won’t order any of you to do this. It’s my plan.”
“Swan…”
Swan had never heard that shift in his voice before, a dejection that struck at her heart.
“Sabre Two, this is a direct order, you are to provide support until I complete my run, then return to the carrier, understood?” she ordered, feeling like her heart was about to burst.
“I… yes, Sabre Lead, I understand,” he replied, his hesitation fading.
“I need somepony to take over if I don’t make it,” she said. “I need you to lead the aerie out of this mess. You’re the only pony that can do this, Blitz. Are you with me?”
There was silence for a moment, and she looked back to his fighter trailing on her right. She hated putting this on him, but there was nopony else the others trusted.
“Okay. Sabre Lead, what’s the plan?” he said reluctantly with a heavy sigh.
“Thank you, Blitz,” she said before clearing her throat. “How many missiles do you have left?”
“Two.”
She had two as well. She just hoped that would be enough.
“Falchion Lead, I’d like you to make a dummy run towards the rear of the cruiser. Hopefully, it’ll distract the flak batteries long enough for me to slip inside,” she said. “We’ll approach from below and use the Orion for cover on my way in. Fleeting Dream, have you been listening?”
“I copy, what do you need?” Flurry replied.
“Can you give me some extra cover?”
“Sure thing! This sounds like my kind of crazy!” the alicorn chuckled. “Just don’t get yourself killed, we need to have a talk, and I don’t fancy having it with a bowl full of ashes.”
Swan smiled to herself. Here she was, relying on the infamous war criminal, Last Shadow, to keep her alive. Fate had a strange sense of humour.
“Okay, everypony, let’s do this,” she said, gunning her engines once more and diving down into the shadow of the Orion. “Falchion Lead, let me know when you’re in position.”
“Copy, Sabre Lead.”
With most of the Shurikens protecting their ship, it was relatively quiet beneath the Orion. The bulk of the massive ship hid the battle going on above.
Blitz was with her, his presence at her side reassuring as she mentally prepared herself. There was so much she wanted to say to her friend, in case the worst happened, but nothing came. Any words she had for him died before they reached her lips.
“So how are we going to do this?” Blitz asked.
“We fire off our missiles together at the launch bay. Hopefully, it’ll punch a hole through anything that might be covering the launch tube,” she explained.
Assuming their hangars are similar to the ones on the Glorium, that is, she thought morbidly. Otherwise, I’m a pancake.
“Okay, I’ll make sure your exit is clear when you’re done in there,” he said, then added in a softer voice… “Just be careful, Swan. We’ve still got to take down Merry, remember?”
She smiled. “Always, my friend.”
“Sabre Lead, we’re making our runs now,” Contrail said. “Good hunting, and may the Winds be forever at your back.”
“I copy, Tomahawk,” she replied, letting out a breath. “Let’s go, Sabre Two.”
With a thrust of her wings, her ship roared upwards, the bulk of Orion rapidly growing larger as she raced towards it. The whine of the engines screamed in her ears as her wounded ship gave everything it had left to her.
Blitz was right beside her as they crossed over the Orion’s starboard wing and into the battle. She could see Contrail’s bombers heading in from various directions, supported by the corvettes from Falchion squadron. Already, they were engaged by the cruiser’s remaining flak batteries, now struggling to cope with so many targets at once.
Flurry Heart did her part as well, reminding the beleaguered changeling ship that there was still a rogue alicorn on the loose.
As they raced along the Orion’s hull, they saw the swarm of fighters thinning away from the launch bays. They had their opening.
“Making our run now,” she said, pulling her fighter into a steep climb.
The cruiser was rapidly approaching as she toggled to her missiles. With a few eye movements, the reticle glowed red as it locked onto their target.
The missiles screeched off their hardpoints and spiralled towards their target, joined by Blitz’s salvo. Several Shurikens that had just emerged outside were caught in the blast and disintegrated in the growing fireball.
Swan eased off on the throttle and diverted energy into her braking thrusters, feeling her stomach lurch at the g-forces pressing down on her. The fireball cleared, revealing a gaping hole torn into the organic-looking shell surrounding the launch bay. Wisps of gas hissed from the wound they had torn into the bay.
“Okay, here I go!” she winced as she angled her ship to fit through the gap.
There was the sound of metal scraping against metal and a shower of sparks as she surged through the hole.
She fired every thruster she had as a ribbed ceiling of blue-purple chitin greeted her, the Swallow narrowly missing the hangar ceiling as it came into a hover.
The rush of air escaping carried away a thick, purple-hued fog that took anything not bolted down with it. This ended quickly as the hull breach sealed itself, the fog soon returning.
Inside was a vast chamber that looked to have been cut through several decks. Several vertical conveyors lowered Shuriken frames down from above. Mechanical arms whirred furiously as they descended, welding components and panels onto the drone. Sparks from the arc welders fell down continuously like golden rain onto the deck below.
This isn’t a hangar, it’s a factory! Swan realized.
A blue light pulsed periodically from the walls, highlighting tunnels seemingly carved into the growths. She watched as several figures that looked like pegasi at first glance scurried into them.
A long line of drones ran from the assembly towards the launch tubes, but it wasn’t this that drew her attention. Mounted in a circular conveyor beside each drone were glass tubes filled with a glowing, bright blue fluid. Within them bobbed what looked to be…
Swan’s eyes widened in disbelief. She fought off the urge to vomit as she gazed into the empty eye sockets of a pony skull floating in the fluid. It still possessed its spinal column, and thin veins of blood vessels and nerves splayed out from it like roots. It periodically convulsed as if seeking out its body now lost.
It was still alive! The thought sent a new wave of revulsion through her, her body heaving with dry wretches.
When Flurry had idly mentioned what the Syndicate did to you if you were caught, Swan dismissed it as hyperbole meant to put a little fear into her squadrons. She never imagined it was literal fact. How could they do this to another living being? It was wrong, so terribly wrong.
Her sickness was replaced by furious rage that surged up from her core. This had to stop. This mockery of science had to stop!
Tears forming in her eyes, Swan squeezed the triggers on her Swallow’s pulse cannons. Red tracers tore at the horror scene in front of her, reducing it to molten vapour. She spun her fighter, raking everything she could see with shots, seeking to wipe the scene clean from her eyes.
Drones shattered, and the machines exploded in a shower of sparks, their carcasses tumbling to the deck. Bright blue explosions ripped through the factory, reducing everything to molten piles of wreckage. Still, she kept firing, a wordless scream on her lips.
Then, the firing stopped, snapping her out of her trance. A red light blinked in front of her, alerting that she had depleted her weapons reserves. The safeties had left her CAPS just enough charge for a bit of life support and flying. She gazed at the scene of destruction before her, panting heavily.
Black smoke choked the room, billowing from a hundred sources. The fire suppression system hissed white gas to try and smother the flames, but they continued to grow.
Suddenly, a large explosion at the far end of the factory tore through the wreckage. Swan fought with her controls as a debris-filled shockwave rocked her fighter.
An audible groan of tortured metal reverberated even through Swan’s canopy. The whole interior of the ship began to rock as more internal explosions erupted around her.
Time to go! Swan’s mind screamed.
She quickly maneuvered her Swallow to go back the way she came. As she readied herself, she found her way blocked by rapidly hardening sealant covering the hull breach she had made.
No choice, now or never! she thought to herself, glancing over to see a wall of flame approaching her.
With a panicked beat of her wings, the Swallow’s engines roared to life. Her fighter ploughed back down the hole she had created, scraping and tearing as she went.
The sealant offered a slight resistance but was quickly torn open as Swan Song made her escape.
Looking back, she saw a bright blue explosion gush from the ship’s launch tubes. The cruiser buckled from the detonation, her outer plates rippling from the shock wave.
A satisfied smile crossed her face as she watched the changeling fighters scatter.
It was ripped away when her ship lurched and pain shot through her right wing as she saw a chunk of her ship break off.
Eject! Eject! Her displays urged as she reached for the handles on either side of her cockpit. The g-forces turned even this simple effort into a struggle.
“Swan!” she heard Blitz cry as her canopy’s explosive bolts fired and she was launched out into space.
She was disoriented from the link with her ship severing so abruptly. She spun on her flight couch, fighting against her rising panic as she watched her ship explode. All she could do now was hold her forelegs up as chunks of debris raced towards her.
<=======ooO Ooo=======>
Flurry Heart grinned as she watched the explosion rip the guts out of the changeling cruiser. It strained against the cables that held it to the Orion, desperate to cling onto its prize. As it reeled from rippling secondary blasts, torpedoes from the Glorium’s bombers struck it from all sides. The deadly guns finally fell silent as plumes of black smoke billowed out from its buckled hull.
The kid had done it!
“Told ya, Whammy, the kid’s got skills,” she remarked, spinning the Dream around so she could get a good look at the fireworks. “Yeah, her aerie is lucky to have her.”
Flurry’s jubilation was soured at the thought of Merry Weather claiming all the glory for Swan’s work. They all deserved to have their blackwing brands removed, but would he?
Then there was Flurry’s own blackwing problem.
She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to be worrying about it. The battle around the Orion was a mopping up operation now. All they had to do now was clean out any bugs Nyx hadn’t already dealt with and it would be over.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Blitz’s frantic calls over the radio. “Flurry! Flurry! Do you copy?”
“I read you, Blitz. What’s wrong?” she asked, a concerned frown crossing her brow. He sounded worried, scared even.
“It’s Swan! I think… I think…”
“Slow down, tell me what happened,” she said calmly, though the panic in his voice was enough to make her tense.
“She blew up! I-I didn’t see her eject. I think she’s gone!” His voice continued on, but it faded away, becoming a distant murmuring. She could hear him over the radio, desperately asking her what he should do.
Flurry slumped in her couch, her ears flattening.
Swan couldn’t be dead. That mare had given her word!
No.
With a upward beat of her wings, she spurred the Dream on and headed towards the changeling cruiser, still wreathed in flames from its burning launch bays.
The area around the cruiser was filled with wreckage and debris from the battle. Inert drones drifted about like scattered toys, being slowly picked off by the corvettes.
“Give me her last known position,” Flurry said flatly.
“But she’s—”
“Just do it, Blitz,” she insisted.
Flurry had to know. She had to see it with her own eyes to be sure.
As she neared the location, she spotted the wreckage of Swan’s fighter, now little more than chunks of twisted metal. They had spread out like a shotgun blast, still travelling along Swan’s final course.
“Scan for pegasus thaumatic signatures,” she said with a sigh. “Wide angle.”
“Affirmative. Stand by.”
If Swan had been in the ship when it exploded, then there would be residue left on the fragments. Flurry didn’t want to think the worst, but it wasn’t looking good.
“Signature detected. Distance: Thirty kilocanters and increasing,” the Dream said, a blue circle appearing in the bottom right of her vision.
Zooming in, she could see a Swallow’s flight couch assembly, a prone figure still strapped to it as it spun.
So she did eject! Flurry thought to herself, releasing the breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Despite her relief, she knew she couldn’t relax just yet. The fact that Swan hadn’t tried to contact anypony meant her equipment had failed, or she was too injured to respond.
Flurry maneuvered the Dream, carefully nursing her speed so she could approach Swan without splattering her across the ship’s nose.
“Warning, signature decreasing,” the Dream announced suddenly.
A knot of worry formed in Flurry’s chest as she saw the thaumatic signature flickering like the embers of a dying fire. Something was wrong. Even detached from the ship, the Swallow’s flight couch was designed to sustain a pilot for at least twelve hours.
As Flurry closed in, she could see a thin gout of gas coming from the flight couch.
It must have been damaged when she ejected! She thought to herself. Damn it, no time to pick her up—she’s fading too fast!
“Continue pursuit of target,” she said, disengaging her link to the Dream and clambouring up from her flight couch. “I’m going outside. Have all data linked to my holo-brace.”
“Affirmative.”
Flurry scrambled to find an air bubble collar, teleporting to the airlock and putting it over her head with haste. She then looked out through the thick omniglass window of the outer hatch to where she saw the dim form of Swan’s flight couch, rotating in the void. With over a thousand years of experience in judging such distances, she focused the proper amount of energy through her horn and jumped.
An instant later, she reappeared just in front of Swan.
Grasping the couch in her telekinesis and extending her wings, she began to arrest the spin using her own flight magic.
Swan lay prone in her couch, her head slumped to one side. Flurry grimly observed the massive crack in Swan’s faceplate, her precious oxygen having almost completely bled away into space. There was no time to lose; the mare would be dead in just a moment.
“Warning, cardiac arrest imminent,” flashed before Flurry’s eyes as she unbuckled the pegasus from her couch. There was no time!
Flurry swallowed, there was only one thing she could do, and it was going to hurt a lot. Letting all the air out of her lungs, she pulled off her bubble collar, ignoring the warnings it gave.
She had experienced full vacuum a few times in her life, and every time it sucked. Her body might be able to handle it, but her face, not so much. Her eyes burned as the temperature and pressure change hit her like a freight train. Icy tendrils clawed at her throat and lungs as the last wisps of air drifted out her nostrils and crystallized into frozen dust before her.
She hurriedly slid the collar over Swan’s head as her vision blurred and her body began to succumb to the vacuum.
With the bubble formed over the pegasus mare’s head, Flurry gently removed her broken helmet. Swan instinctively took deep gulps of air, her chest rising and falling in a reassuring rhythm. Flurry would have smiled if it didn’t hurt so much.
Now, she had to get out of here. Her chest was on fire as her body cried out for oxygen. She unbuckled Swan from the flight couch and pulled her into a hug. Looking around for the Dream, everything was a blurry mass of vague shapes and bright lights.
She saw something large and immediately reached out for it. Grasping onto Swan, she teleported, aiming for the centre mass of the object. Even with her vision shot, she should be able to land them right inside the Dream’s cargo bay.
Appearing once more, she was again confronted with the icy vacuum of empty space.
Her mind raced, where was the Dream? She knew she had jumped the right distance!
Her body was starting to convulse as her vision began to fade. She grasped onto Swan tightly, unwilling to let her go. It took all she had to just grasp a moment of clarity to think.
If it wasn’t the Dream she had been aiming for, it must have been the Orion. She could reach it with another teleport, but she had no idea of the Orion’s internal layout. If she botched it, they both could rematerialise inside a bulkhead or worse. Still, it was that or suffocate to death.
Her blood now boiling and her body screaming for relief, she focused her thaumatic energy one last time, and jumped.