Spike was a bit confused to find Crescent in the cafeteria an hour later. He had expected her to return to engineering, but instead, the computer directed him there. Her current location wasn't as half as confusing as her singing, however. Something he could hear from the corridor.
“The minstrel girl to the war is gone,
In the ranks of death you will find her.
Her father’s sword she hath girded on,
And her wild harp slung behind her.”
Curious, Spike entered the cafeteria, only to find it empty, save for Crescent. She was holding a bottle of something. Something she took a swig of as she spotted Spike.
"Crescent?" Spike called, furrowing his brow. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be in engineering?"
"Ugh, go away," she grumbled. "Can't ya' see I'm busy?"
She took another swig from the bottle, allowing Spike to make out it's label. He couldn't read it - it was in Old Equestrian - but he could take a guess as to the contents.
"Hey, nopony would blame you if you needed a break," Spike said, trying to keep a fair tone, though he was guessing that this was due to more than just 'needing a break'. "You've obviously been through a lot lately."
"Hmph," she groaned. "I've needed a break fer' two years now. Never expected it to come this way, though." She sighed, gazing at Spike with slightly apologetic eyes. "I’m sorry. You can stay if ya’ want. Actually had some questions for ya', if you don't mind."
“Like what?” he asked.
“The Garden,” she said whimsically. “What’s it like?”
Spike smiled slightly, taking a seat next to her. "In what way?"
"In general, I guess," she said, her words with only a hint of a slur. "Is it peaceful?"
"Most of the time," Spike said. "Well, when we aren't being attacked by monsters and stuff."
“Monsters?” Crescent blinked. “Are we talkin’ metaphorically or...?”
“Naw, I mean literal monsters,” Spike said. “Hydras, bugbears, wereponies, vampires, you name it. Buuuut like I said, they get taken down pretty quick.”
Crescent tapped her chin. "Huh. Well, what about wars? Any wars?"
"Rarely," Spike said. "I mean we've had conflicts, but they don’t go on for too long."
"Mmm," Crescent said, smiling slightly as she took another swig. "So that’s pretty much a ‘no’ then. Heh, wouldn't that be a nice change o' pace."
She began singing another verse:
“‘Land of song!’ said the warrior-bard,
Though all the world betrays thee,.
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee.”
A beat. Spike glanced out at the cafeteria window, watching debris from the Tyrant’s End drift by in silent contemplation. He was pretty sure he knew what the song was about, but he didn’t want to pry. Instead, it was Crescent who spoke first.
“Father used to sing it to me when I was a wee foal," she said bitterly. "Feckin' bastard thought what he was doin' was so noble. Bleh. Brainwashed fool. I only sing it now to remind myself why we have ta' keep fighting, even if it's never easy. Even if..."
She gazed downward, setting down her bottle.
"Even if things don't always go our way."
Spike gazed at her curiously. "What do you mean?"
"Yer' a smart lad," Crescent said. "Sure ya already got an inkling of it. I've just been kicked out o’ the captain's chair."
Spike frowned slightly. "I… did have an idea about what was going on. With what you mentioned earlier."
"I feel like I should be furious," Crescent said solemnly. "With all the battles I led em' through. All the no wins I got us outa. But all I feel is… cold."
"I'm sorry," Spike said.
"Don't be," she said, coughing slightly. "I've earned it. Not just for my screw-ups, but for… but for sitting around here moping afterwards.” Her voice took an angry tone. “Seriously, the hell am I doing? I got ta’ get back to work. For my people… for my sister."
"Heh, I actually just ran into her a second ago," Spike said. "Found out she's a pretty good artist."
"Good artist, great doctor," Crescent smiled. "She means the world to me." Her smile quickly evaporated. "Never would have had a chance to shine, too, if I didn't get her outa the Empire."
"What do you mean?" Spike asked.
She gazed at Spike pensively, and her voice grew darker as she said:
"Do you know what the Empire does to 'weak links'? To creatures they think are 'defective'?" she asked.
"Whatever it is doesn't sound good," Spike gulped.
"They tried to do it to my sister," Crescent growled. "Just cus she had a broken talker. And my father, he was such a damned fanatic… he practically disowned her! He..." She frivously shook her head. "No. Not going down that rabbit hole. Not now. Got too much to do."
She stood up, walking over towards the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. "Let me sober up for a lil', then I'll be down in engineering. We'll get this ship sailing in no time, you'll see."
"Are you sure you don't need a little--"
"No!" she shouted, before taking a deep breath. "No. No thank you. I'll be alright."
Spike nodded, sitting up from his chair and walking towards the door.
"Oh, and Spike," she said. "You should know me crew still wants me to be the 'liason' between you and us.”
Spike smiled. "I'm glad."
She nodded respectfully. "So am I."
--
An hour later, Crescent had positioned herself inside one of the crawl-spaces underneath the power core room. It was accessible via a removable panel, and according to her, allowed one to access the inputs to the hyperdrive, which, unlike the power core, was fully surrounded by a radiation and heat-absorbing bulkhead, at least in older starships.
“Night damn it’s bloomin’ cramped down ere’,” she called, her voice muffled from within. “Can’t believe they used to build em’ like this. Safer, I guess - less chance of a Star Shed spill killin folk - but a pain in the arse to mess with.”
“I think Luna might know a shrinking spell,” Spike joked. “If it’s that cramped.”
“Haw haw haw, no thank you,” she grumbled. “Doc, if ya’ could pass me the blue cable…”
“Here you are,” Doctor Whooves nodded, sliding one of the many cables now laying all around the room to her.
The whole place was starting to look like a mess by Spike’s standards, but it was a necessary mess. Crescent apparently needed to rewire half of everything there to make this sort of thing work.
“Gotcha, ya’ little bastard!” Crescent cried trimuphantly, accompanied by the crackle of an electrical surge.
A second later, she popped up from the hatch, grinning widely. This was despite the fact she was covered head to toe in soot and dust, a far cry from the (fairly) clean captain who boarded the Starshot a short while ago.
“Haha!” she said, giddier than Spike had seen her yet. “Ooooh man did I miss this. Diggin’ around ship guts, solvin’ practical problems…” She trotted over to one of the consoles, flicked through a few menus, and then…
WHOOOOOOM!.!.!
The sound of power filling the hyperdriive echoed throughout the room.
“... And instant gratification! Haw!”
“You mean it’s fixed?” Doctor Whooves said, impressed. “That quickly?”
“I was an engineer for ten years before becomin’ a captain,” Crescent said proudly. “Damned right it was that quickly.”
“So. Good,” Big Mac said, a bit of awe in his tone.
“Yeah… I don’t mean to steal your thunder,” Spike said. “But… wasn’t this all a little too easy?”
“What are ya’ on about?” Crescent said grumpily.
“Song’s supposed to be a strategic genius, right?” Spike pointed out. “Two chess moves ahead of everypony else. Yet he left us with our impulse engines in the same system where you guys were, needing to be rescued.”
“What, are ya’ sayin’ we’re secret spies or something?” Crescent laughed.
“No, I’m not saying that,” Spike said, rolling his eyes. “What I am saying is he left us in the same system as you; a talented engineer. Somepony who easily fixed our problem. This just seems like something he should have seen coming.”
“Your caution is warranted, my draconic friend,” Doctor Whooves spoke up. “However, it’s quite possible Song simply was unaware of the engineering talent at our disposal.”
Spike furrowed his brow. “Doesn’t seem like the type to miss that sort of thing.”
“He’s not,” Crescent said, nodding slightly. “Not usually. Though there is a good chance my record might have been… erased from their databases.”
“Huh?” Spike blinked.
Crescent gazed at him. “The Empire has a habit of making anypony who betrays them a non-person. Anypony who does it… poof. Never existed.”
“Suppose that’s to be expected for such a civilization,” Doctor Whooves said.
“E’yup,” Big Mac agreed.
“Good for their propaganda, but bad for them in times like this,” Crescent smirked. “Song would have no way of knowin’ about me skill with a wrench.”
“I guess,” Spike admitted. “But something still feels… off.”
“Yer’ just being paranoid,” Crescent said. “Can’t blame ya’. Song does that ta’ ponies. I only met him a second ago, but I’ve heard others talk about em’. He gets into yer’ head, makes ya’ start second-guessing yerself. Best thing we can do is carry on like we would be.”
“Yeah,” Spike said, trying to hide the little bit of skepticism left in his voice. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“Anywho,” Crescent continued. “Unless yer’ desperate for Star Shed...”
“What’s that, again?”
“Er, Solarium,” Crescent coughed. “Unless we need more o’ that, we should get outa here. Just in case Song decides to drop in earlier than he said he would. I’ll need to stay down here; ta’ make sure everything’s working and to hit in hyperspace coordinates manually.”
“Coordinates to where?” Spike asked.
“Firefall Station,” she smiled. “Well, ultimately. We’ll be jumping to a few spots in interstellar space first - just to make sure nopony’s following us.”
Spike sighed in relief. “That makes me feel better. But still, what kind of station is this?”
“A hidden one,” Crescent chuckled. “Has a lot of functions, but what’s important is it should have everything we need to get this ship fully back to normal - ya' won't have to rely on this paperclip and bubblegum job I did fer’ long. Not to mention, ships are comin’ and going all the time to it. Once we're done, we'll be able to catch a ride on one of em’ to get home. Get outa yer manes.”
“And… that’s it?” Spike asked.
Crescent exhaled deeply. “I wish it wasn’t. Truly. You lot have been good ta’ us. And workin’ with ya’ has been a pleasure. But I just don’t think our people would mesh well, ta’ be honest.”
“Is it our people, or just our leader?” Spike asked.
Crescent stood silent.
Spike pressed on. “Cus you know, Luna isn’t… like most ‘monarchs’.”
Crescent gave him a humored smirk. “Oh isn’t she, now? What, is she nicer? ‘Enlightened’? Lets creatures do what they want with their own lives but still feels they’re too beneath er’ to be in charge? I like ya', Spike. But you’ve grown up in their system, from what I know; yeh don’t have the perspective to look at em’ objectively.”
“You’re right, I did grow up in their system,” Spike said. “But I’ve… always felt like kind of an outsider. Dragons and Equestrians didn’t always get along, you know. Not until recently. So my perspective has been, well, kind of different.”
“Hmmm…” Crescent said. “Alright, I get where yer' comin’ from. But how do you think Luna is so different?”
“Cus for one thing, when we first came on this ship?” Spike said. “She didn’t just take control right off the bat. We did a vote.”
Crescent raised an eyebrow. “That… that’s a bit surprising.”
“I can vouch for that,” Doctor Whooves smiled. “I came in second place! Might have won if Derpy wasn’t, ahem, reasonably annoyed with me at that moment.”
Crescent furrowed her brow, gazing at Spike pensively. “And she didn’t try to, I dunno, brow beat you into making her in charge? No threats, hoity toity talk of ‘superior’ intellect or whatever it is they use to keep control?”
“I mean, her being a princess did kind of stack it in her favor a little bit,” Spike admitted. “Since, ya know, she’s lived a long time, and ponies knew that. But she wasn’t the one to bring that up. And the fact she was cool with it in the first place…” Spike began to pace. “As well-meaning as the other princesses can be, I do get you when you say they think they’re ‘better’ than the rest of us. I really do. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Even my own sister, Twilight Sparkle, can be like that sometimes."
He raised a claw. "But I do not get that feeling when I’m talking with Luna. Probably cus’ she knows what it’s like to be looked down on herself. Even though I’m like a thousand years younger than her, she treats me like an equal. Listens to what I have to say. And full disclosure: she even trusted me enough to try to win your favor. Said I could do what she couldn’t.”
Crescent laughed. “Full blown honesty? A rare diplomatic tactic, I have ta’ say.” She then smiled warmly at Spike. “Alright, ya’ made a good case. I’ll think about it. Might even be willing to set ya’ up with a meeting with Big Blue… if he’ll still give me the time o’ day.”
“Who is Big Blue again?” Spike asked.
“Tricky question,” Crescent said. “He’s like… like our diplomatic guru, and one of the head honchos on the Civil Council. Has been for many moons. All that can be really said is that the majority of us… well, we’ve agreed that when he talks, we listen.” She cleared her throat. “Anywho, you and Doc Whooves are probably needed on the bridge. Big Mac, you should stay here and shadow me. I’ll teach ya' a few things those damned tutorials never would."
“E’yup!” he said excitedly.
She turned back to Spike. “If yer’ captain’s okay with where we’re goin’, we should have things ready in about fifteen minutes. After that, she just needs to give me tha’ signal.”
“Gotcha,” Spike nodded, turning towards the engineering entrance, Doctor Whooves in tow.
Before he left, however…
“I still don’t trust her, ya’ know,” Crescent said, a hint of a smile on her face. “But I do trust you.”
Spike couldn’t think of what to say to that, so he merely gave her a polite nod, before heading to the bridge.
***
Once there, it didn’t take Spike long to explain what he had accomplished. The results were… somewhat unexpected.
“Spike, you’ve done wonderfully!” Luna beamed, actually lifting him in the air with her magic to bring him in close for a hug. “Huzah! Huzah!”
“Agh!” Spike groaned, pushing away from her. “I like me some hugs, but a warning would be nice.”
“Oh, heh,” she blushed, setting him down. “Sorry. Just… wow. Two hours and you’ve opened so many doors for us!”
“Never thought I’d see a dragon with a silver tongue,” Pharynx said, impressed. “Not bad. You’d make a good infiltrator back in the day.”
“I’m both simultaneously flattered and deeply disturbed,” Spike said, nodding slowly.
“It was a definite compliment, Spike,“ Ocellus smiled. “In my uncle’s own way.”
“Hmph,” Pharynx said. "That being said, I'm still a little worried about going into unknown territory without weapons."
"Crescent said that that would take a long time to fix," Spike said. "Longer than the hyperdrive, and definitely longer than two days."
"And isn't that convienent?" Pharynx said.
"It isn't really," Doctor Whooves said. "I'm still learning about how internal systems actually function, but I can say with reasonable confidence that she's telling the truth."
Pharynx raised his eyebrows, but his expression did soften slightly. "Very well. But I still believe we should continue to keep a close eye on our new 'friends'. Remember, they are fighting a bitter war, one where their freedom is at stake. And they appear to be at a disadvantage."
Spike raised an eyebrow. "So?”
“So they will be looking for any opportunity to gain an advantage,” Pharynx said. “Which includes the one sitting right in front of their noses.”
Derpy looked at him skeptically. “Wait… do you think they might try to steal the Starshot or something? To help fight?"
"If we were in their place, wouldn't we consider it?" Pharynx grunted.
"Absolutely not," Luna said.
"No way no how!" Derpy proclaimed.
Pharynx gazed at them quizzically. "Look at it from their perspective. A bunch of creatures from a far off land drop a massive weapon off at their door. Creatures who they don't necessarily trust or agree with. And creatures who don't fully understand the weapon they're dealing with, making it easy to take. So, their choices are between letting said creatures they don't trust go on their merry way, taking this deadly weapon to parts unknown. Or(!) taking it for themselves and, quite possibly, using it to save their entire civilization. A civilization they view as far more ethically sound than our own."
The bridge gazed at him, stunned. And Spike had to admit: he made a decent argument.
"'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few'," Ocellus quoted, nodding.
"Ambassador Tight Knot?" The Doctor asked.
"Mhm," Ocellus said. "To them, that sort of thing would actually be the moral choice."
"Exactly," Pharynx said, giving Ocellus a look of approval.
Luna sighed. "Your point is taken, though Tempest has already expressed similar concerns."
“I don’t mind,” Pharynx smirked. "Honestly, I'd expect nothing less from her."
Luna raised a hoof. "However, my response is the same: we have no choice but to trust them at the moment."
"I agree," Pharynx nodded. "But my point still stands. Don't look at things soley from your moral perspective. Consider how the 'other side' thinks. Only then can you be prepared for all eventualities.
"Sounds like something Song would say," Spike said.
"He might of," Pharynx said. "I am paraphrasing The Art of War, after all. Even the leaders of the Oblivion Empire probably think what they're doing is 'right' in some way, provided they aren't completely psychopathic or think in a completely different way than we do."
He narrowed his eyes at Luna.
"Just keep in mind this old changeling saying: certainty is a fool’s errand.”