STAR TREK: PHOENIX
S01E07
“Wrong Place, Right Time”
The hypospray hissed as it injected its medication into my veins. The familiar sensation of hyronalin entering my bloodstream nevertheless made me hiss from the discomfort. “Please tell me that’s the last one I have to take.”
The nurse, a Bolian with the most sour expression I’d ever seen, gave me a flat look. “Yes, Cadet. That’s the last one.”
“Thank goodness,” I sighed. I left the rear cabin of the runabout and returned to the front, taking a seat by the control console next to my fellow researchers. “It’s not much longer till we reach Earth, right?”
“Nope,” said one of the researchers, a kind hearted human woman who always wore a smile. “We’ll be in transporter range in a few minutes. We can beam you down to the Academy then.”
“I’ll bet you’ll be glad to get some recovery time, Cadet,” added another. “Wouldn’t want to wear you out.”
I ignored the jibes as I focused on watching the runabout’s console. Not for the first time I wished they could’ve used a warp hop between Mercury and Earth instead of full impulse, but I knew all too well that was a bad idea inside a gravity well, especially in a solar system as busy as the Sol system.
When we reached transporter range, I wasted no time in beaming straight back to the Academy. I reported in, went straight to my quarters, and promptly cranked the sonic shower as hot as I dared. Sure, I had some more finals to prepare for, and the excessive steam was going to frizz my mane and coat terribly, but I desperately needed to wash every last bit of Mercury off of me.
“Note to self: Next time you have an opportunity to go to Mercury? Don’t.”
“Aww, is that some regret I’m hearing?”
I stepped out of the shower, confronted by Preta, who wasted no time in hugging me, despite the fact I was soaking wet. “It’s good to see you, again,” she said as she let me go and patted me gently on the head.
“Good to see you again too, Preta,” I said, chuckling as I stepped into the drying cubicle, letting the wash of warm air and sonics dry me up in a hurry. Then I came out to grab my hair brush and sat down on my bed.
“Sooo… that bad, huh?” Preta asked as she leaned forward on the tips of her toe claws.
I collapsed onto the bed, glad for the chance to stretch out and relax. The Academy beds weren’t exactly massive, but compared to the puny bunks they’d stuck us with on Mercury it was like a bed in Canterlot Castle. “It was a really good experience professionally, but… let's just say I’m really glad I’m home,” I answered.
She giggled, sounding like a purring cat with hiccups. “I can see that. Well, go ahead and relax for a while before you start studying. I’ll wake you if you fall asleep.”
“No, no, I can’t do that,” I murmured into my pillow before pushing myself back up. Then I proceeded to brush my mane out, eliminating the friz in a swift, measured manner. “If I don’t prepare now, I’ll run the risk of failing! I can’t fail any finals, period.”
“Oh, relax, Twilight, I’m sure–”
The door chime cut her off. “Uh oh,” I murmured as I jumped off the bed in a hurry and ran over to my closet, pulled out a fresh uniform, then ducked inside the head to put it on.
“Come in!” I heard Preta shout.
I heard bootsteps, followed by a voice that sounded vaguely familiar. “Is Cadet Sparkle around?”
Finished with my uniform, and wishing I had more time to fix the rest of my appearance, I rushed out of the head, saying, “Reporting as ordered…” only to skid to a halt and stiffen to attention when I saw who it was. “...sir.”
The man standing there was instantly recognizable, even if I’d never met him in person before. One look at his face, at the VISOR decorating it, told me all I needed to know. Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge took one look at me and sighed, holding up a hand. “At ease, Cadet. This isn’t an inspection. I’m here to speak with you.”
“With me, sir?” I said, blinking in confusion. “May I ask what about?”
He shook his head and gestured towards the door. “Let’s take a walk.”
I eyed Preta for a moment, who gave me a very quick thumbs up from below her waist, then nodded to La Forge. “Aye, sir.”
As La Forge led me through the Academy corridors, I took a moment to observe his posture. He slumped as he walked, more than I would’ve expected for someone in his position. He kept clenching and unclenching his hands, and sweat covered his brow, which he wiped every so often. His mouth kept pulling down in a concerted frown.
Inward I began to quake. Have I done something wrong? I wondered. Maybe my internship on Mercury was actually a complete disaster! Maybe La Forge came by to kick me out of the Academy!
But wait. Why would he do that? Wasn’t he supposed to be on the Enterprise? Did something happen to it? I hadn’t received any news out at Mercury, as subspace communications were kept to a bare minimum due to solar radiation.
Before I could consider anything more, La Forge stopped in front of the door I recognized as Amina’s office. He hit the door chime, then when her voice called out he entered, and I followed. Both Amina and T’Lona were present, sitting behind the desk, matching expressions of concern on their face. “Now that you have my daughter here,” Amina said in a subdued but irritated voice, “will you finally tell us what’s going on?”
“Yes, ma’am,” La Forge said, gesturing for me to take a seat while he did the same.
I trembled as I did so, the worry in me increasing tenfold. Why would he want to talk to all three of us? Was…was it… no! No, it couldn’t be!
“First of all, thank you for waiting,” La Forge said, steepling his hands on the desk. “This isn’t going to be easy to talk about, but… I felt I owed it to the three of you to come speak with you personally, since I was on Earth.”
“Is this concerning Sunset?” T’Lona inquired, her mouth twitching, her usual control over her emotions starting to slip ever so slightly.
La Forge winced, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
Amina let out a gasp, holding a hand to her mouth. “What… What happened to her? Is she alright? Is she–”
“Please, let me talk, Commander, and I’ll explain,” La Forge interrupted. “Like I said, this isn’t going to be easy.”
Amina’s eyes flashed angrily, but she sat back nonetheless and waited.
La Forge glanced at me and T’Lona, as if waiting for us to interrupt, then continued, “Approximately one month ago, the Enterprise answered a distress call at the Amargosa Observatory. One thing led to another, and it turned out one of the scientists, a Dr. Soran, was performing experiments that resulted in the star’s collapse.”
Amina nodded impatiently. “We’re all well aware of that. It was everywhere on the Federation news. I spent days discussing it with colleagues. I understand he used trilithium to do it?”
“That’s right. Sunset was the one who figured it out, in fact,” La Forge said. “Soran fled Amargosa in a Klingon Bird of Prey. And as you know, we pursued it to the Veridian system--”
“Yes, and there was a battle,” T’Lona interrupted. “Reports said battle damage caused a warp core breach, but the saucer was able to separate in time and survived.”
Geordi nodded. “Right, basically.”
Given the informality I decided to speak up. “Wait, I don’t get it. What kind of a chance would a Bird of Prey have against a Galaxy-class starship?”
“Under normal circumstances? No chance at all,” La Forge replied, his voice tight. “But these weren’t normal circumstances.” He went into some detail about the Enterprise’s systems, as well as how the Bird of Prey was much more powerful than normal. “Now, those alone wouldn’t have done it. But there was something else we weren’t aware of at the time.”
He tapped his VISOR and frowned hard enough to slip into a sneer. “It turns out the Klingons somehow hijacked my VISOR’s signal, and used it to broadcast video to their ship. We only discovered this long after the fact. Because they could see what I could see, they saw every panel, every display that I looked at...including the one with the ship’s shield modulation frequency on it.”
“Which meant they could fire through the shields,” I said, my heart sinking.
“I still don’t understand where this is going,” Amina interrupted, interjecting authority into her voice. “What does any of this have to do with Sunset?”
“It’s because of Sunset that the saucer section survived at all. You see, Sunset was in Engineering with me during the battle. She worked hard to keep the ship running, and we did end up winning. But afterwards, we discovered there’d been too much damage. The magnetic interlocks ruptured, a coolant leak flooded Engineering, the warp core was five minutes from breaching, and…”
To my shock, I heard a quiet sniffle come from him. Just once. I saw no tears on his face, no other sign of sobbing. My blood froze at the sound, and from the look on T’Lona and Amina’s face, I wasn’t the only one. “What… what happened?” I said.
La Forge didn’t respond for several minutes. Then he held up one hand. “You have to understand, I tried to stop her. I did. I had no idea she was going to–”
“What. Happened?” T’Lona interrupted, her voice hard like solid steel.
“All right.” La Forge shifted in his chair, and took another couple of moments before continuing. “Sunset… she stayed behind next to the warp core as the bulkhead sealed. She said she’d do what she could to stop the breach. When I tried to stop her, she used her abilities to throw me onto the other side of the bulkhead, just before it closed. We had a couple hundred civilians, including children, in the stardrive section, and they needed my help to evacuate. We barely got everyone out in time.”
The ice in my veins cracked, threatening to shatter and rip me into shreds. “But,” I gulped. “But I don’t understand! We all saw the fatality reports! You can’t possibly be saying...”
La Forge shook his head. “I’m sorry. Sunset Shimmer… died when the stardrive exploded.”
My heart shattered into a million pieces. I crumpled in my chair, unable to move. “No,” I whispered.
I saw Amina collapse into T’Lona’s embrace out of the corner of my eye, sobbing into T’Lona’s chest. And T’Lona, she… her facial muscles visibly strained as she sought to contain her own grief. “But she did save lives,” she whispered.
“She did. Except for a few fatalities during the battle itself, she saved all our lives,” La Forge answered. “Somehow–and I still don’t understand how–Sunset managed to contain the breach long enough for the saucer to get to a safe distance. If it hadn’t been for her, we might’ve crashed. Galaxy-class saucers are technically designed to survive that, but… I don’t know if we would have, with all that battle damage.”
T’Lona gave La Forge a rigid nod as she held Amina closer, allowing Amina to cry into her shoulder. “That is… good to know.”
I don’t know why I was still listening. Maybe because I couldn’t move. I couldn’t cry, or scream, or say anything. I felt paralyzed. Like my entire world fell out from under me, and all that was left was a yawning void threatening to devour me whole.
Amina wriggled out of T’Lona’s embrace, her sorrow flash boiling into fury as she slammed a fist on her table. “Why didn’t we hear anything sooner? Sunset is our daughter, damn it! We should’ve been told immediately!”
La Forge let out a quiet sigh. “I… I never told her this, but I considered Sunset Shimmer a friend. I didn’t want her family to hear about her death in some cold form letter sent via subspace. And given she was the first unicorn in Starfleet… the news media would’ve been all over you. You didn’t deserve that either.”
Amina looked ready to tear La Forge’s head off, but T’Lona placed a hand on her arm. I didn’t need to use my magic to see that T’Lona was using her telepathic abilities to enforce a sense of calm on Amina. Privately I was glad to see Mother doing that; La Forge didn’t deserve to suffer Mom’s temper. He didn’t do anything wrong.
He was just the bearer of bad news.
“We’re planning to hold a memorial service for Sunset aboard the Enterprise saucer tomorrow at 1800, San Francisco time,” La Forge said.
“We will attend,” T’Lona said.
La Forge gave a solemn nod. “Of course. I’ll be standing by to transport you aboard. Just be aware, the ship’s taken a lot of damage. We’ll be holding the ceremony in Ten-Forward.”
With that, La Forge got up from his chair. He gave each of us one last look, then departed.
The instant he was gone, whatever abyss held me released me. My eyes unleashed a deluge of tears as my throat choked up with snot. I could barely breathe. “Sunset…” I sobbed. “Sunset...why…?”
I heard the sound of footsteps precede both my adopted parents coming around to hold me. Well, Amina wrapped me tight in her arms and held me close, while T’Lona embraced the two of us. “I know, honey,” Amina cried. “I know. It’s not right.”
“She d-didn’t… she never got to go home…” I fell against my Mom’s chest, feeling for all the world like I was eight years old again and it was the first time she’d ever held me. “She was supposed to see Equestria again! We were supposed to see Equestria again! Together!”
“Her sacrifice had meaning,” T’Lona spoke, her voice shaking in a way that would’ve scared me if I wasn’t overwhelmed by grief. “We must take solace in that. She saved over one thousand lives, at the cost of her own.”
“But she shouldn’t have had to!” I protested.
“No. No, she shouldn’t have,” Amina replied in a quiet voice. She’d run out of tears, and at this point sounded defeated, crushed. “But… she… we all know what it means to, to serve in–”
“Mom,” I Interrupted, staring up into her eyes. “Please. I don’t want to hear any of that platitude shit right now. You know and I know and Mother knows we’re all going to hear tons of it tomorrow. Let’s not waste time using it on each other, okay?”
I saw one corner of Amina’s mouth quirk up at the sound of me using profanity, but it just as quickly vanished. “Yeah. You’re right, hon. Forget the platitudes. I’d rather have my daughter back.”
“...and I as well,” T’Lona seconded.
“I want my BSBFF back,” I thirded.
We spent a while holding each other before Amina pulled away, stumbling back over to her desk. “Well, I think it’s safe to say we all need some leave time to grieve.”
“What about my finals?” I murmured.
“Don’t worry about them, sweetheart,” Amina said with a shake of her head. “I’ll discuss it with Admiral Brand. Circumstances like these, with your grades, I don’t think she’ll have a problem giving you credit to move on to third year.” She switched on her terminal, and began to type. “Head back to your quarters and get your things packed up. I’m going to try to aim for the longest amount of time we can. Spend some time together as a family.”
I tried to stand up from my chair, but my legs wobbled like jelly, forcing me to sit back down. “I’m… trying.”
“Would you like me to accompany you, Twilight?” T’Lona asked as she ran a hand through my mane.
I looked up at her, saw the naked sorrow in her eyes, and nodded. “Yes, Mother. Please.”
She nodded in turn, and waved for me to stand. This time, with her hand on my shoulder, I found the strength to do it. I could feel her adding her sense of self-control, just a little, at the back of my mind. Enough to support me. It was exactly what I needed.
We trudged through the corridors, her hand never leaving my shoulder even once. We both ignored any stares or looks of confusion from other cadets as we walked by. “Oh, you’re back,” Preta said as I entered our shared quarters. Then she shot T’Lona and I a look of confusion. “Um, what–”
“Please excuse us, cadet,” T’Lona said as she walked with me over to my bag I’d left on the bed. Fortunately, I hadn’t bothered to unpack yet, so all I needed was a couple of additional things. “I’m afraid Twilight will be leaving the Academy for a while.”
Preta shot up out of her chair and walked over to me, heedless of T’Lona’s fixed stare. “Why? What happened?”
I looked up at Preta, the worry in her eyes wearing down what little strength I had. So I swallowed, and said bluntly, “Preta… Sunset’s dead.”
Preta let out a gasp, which for her sounded a bit more like a hiss, then she shot forward and embraced me. “I’m so sorry, Twilight. How–”
“It would be best if Twilight didn’t discuss the details right now,” T’Lona said. “Neither she nor I have the proper… strength to do so.”
Preta pulled me in tighter, rubbing my face right into her tummy before she let go. “Yes, ma’am,” she murmured. “I understand. Do you know when you’ll be back, Twilight?”
“Not sure yet,” I replied. “I’ll write you, okay? Good luck with your finals.”
We left the room in a hurry, because I didn’t want to say another word if I could avoid it. We returned to my mother’s office, though we didn’t have long to wait before we were officially granted our leave. “I had to call in a favor with an old colleague of mine,” Amina said, “but I found someone to cover my first few weeks of classes. We’re getting a month.”
“Wow,” I murmured, despite feeling no enthusiasm. “That’s more than I expected.”
T’Lona murmured agreement as we all left the Academy together. We didn’t exchange any words till we arrived home in Vancouver. “We can… we can figure out what we want to do together after tomorrow’s ceremony,” Amina said as she slumped onto the couch. “We’ll do something. Go somewhere. Find some peace.”
“I want to see Belle,” I replied. “Soon as I can.”
“We will see,” T’Lona said with a quiet nod.
We spent the rest of the evening at home, sitting together quietly. At one point, T’Lona got up and fetched us all something to eat, despite neither Amina nor me being all that hungry. I ended up falling asleep on the couch that night, laying next to my Mom.
The next day, everything seemed surreal. Like what I’d heard about last night hadn’t happened, that any moment I’d have to go back to the Academy and attend my next class, while waiting to hear about the latest bit of silliness Sunset encountered on the Enterprise. I wanted to hear her voice, see her face.
It’d been years since I last spoke to her in person. The last time I got to hug her was right before she left for her post.
A small part of me, the childish, angry part of me, wanted to start blaming someone, anyone for this. Like Starfleet. If it hadn’t been for Starfleet luring us with its promise of finding Equus, and all we had to do was put ourselves in mortal danger every minute of the day with an antimatter consuming energy core that could wipe us out in an instant.
But that was stupid. It wasn’t Starfleet’s fault. Starfleet was the best opportunity we had. That… I had. Right?
All too soon, 1800 approached. I stepped outside my home with T’Lona and Amina, while my Mom activated her combadge. “Enterprise,” she said. “Three to beam up.”
My world dissolved into light and sound before reforming into a transporter room of the type I’d only seen in pictures and in a holosuite. Scorch marks marred the walls, with a few pieces of broken equipment dumped in a side alcove. Commander La Forge stepped away from the console and gestured to the door. “This way. Watch your step; there’s a lot of damage in the corridors.”
La Forge wasn’t kidding. Stepping into the corridor left me with the haunting feeling of entering a graveyard. Half the ceiling lights were out, many of the rest flickered. Various debris ranging from pieces of broken panels to wiring to fallen bits of ceiling decorated the hallways as if an artist had shoved a bunch of paint into a ketchup bottle, shook it up, and then sprayed it all over the place. For my own safety’s sake I opted to light up my horn to provide more steady illumination. “Why isn’t anyone fixing the damage?” I wondered as we headed down the hallway.
“Well, to be honest with you, Starfleet’s not sure the Enterprise is worth salvaging, even with the saucer brought home intact,” La Forge answered. “It’s not like Utopia Planitia keeps Galaxy-class stardrives sitting around unused. They might just disassemble it for parts, or find some other use for it.” He let out a quiet sigh. “Of course I don’t know what will happen with the crew. The whole senior staff’s going to end up facing a board of inquiry, myself included. Some of us might not get to stay in Starfleet after this. People have already asked me if I’ll be moving on to the new ship class that’s under development at Utopia Planitia. But first we need to see if we’re still in Starfleet in a month.”
“Is this a subject you should be discussing with us?” T’Lona inquired as we reached a turbolift.
A wry smile crossed La Forge’s face. “Technically? No. But you’re Sunset’s family. I don’t mind letting you in on a few extra details.”
Amina matched his smile with one of her own. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
“What about the saucer?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I cared about the answer aside from basic curiosity, but it helped distract me from what we were about to do.
“If I have any say in the matter, they’ll keep the old girl around, use her as part of a different ship.” La Forge patted the side of the turbolift. “I think Sunset would appreciate that.”
“...yeah,” I muttered, sighing. “She would.”
The turbolift opened into another corridor, just as damaged as the first. La Forge led us past the debris and towards a pair of double doors, into a large lounge dominated on one side by floor to ceiling windows. This place, at least, looked fairly pristine. A lectern had been set up close to the windows, while all the tables were moved into a far corner, allowing them to set up rows of chairs, most of which were already filled with a collection of uniformed officers, the vast majority wearing gold and of low rank, presumably engineers. The front row, however, contained the entirety of the ship’s senior staff–I recognized them all, even if, like La Forge, I’d never met them. Three seats, including one designed for an Equestrian, were set aside right up at the very middle front, between Doctor Crusher and Commander Worf’s seats.
Two very familiar faces sat near the back. Cadeneza and Wattson gave a small wave when they saw me, which I returned. I was glad to see them. No matter what I personally thought of Cadeneza, I know she considered Sunset a good friend, and, well, both were friends of the family too.
There was also one other person I recognized, a blue-uniformed Lieutenant sitting close to the front. I was more than a little surprised to see she was here. I made a note to talk to her after the ceremony.
We attracted a few looks and stares as we took our seats, all of them sympathetic, though a few did a double take when they saw me. I tried not to shrink into my chair, and failed miserably.
Instead of sitting down, La Forge proceeded to the lectern. “Thank you all for coming,” he said, instantly silencing the quiet bubble of conversation. “We all know what we’re here for. I know a lot of us wanted to hold this ceremony sooner, but I didn’t think it’d be right to do it without Sunset’s family.”
He then launched into a speech about Sunset, about her duties aboard the ship, her accomplishments, and a whole heap of crap that went right in one ear and out the other as far as I was concerned. I’m sure it meant something to the crew of the Enterprise, but I already knew about the parts I cared about, and the rest, I didn’t.
A few others went up after La Forge to speak. Doctor Crusher spent some time waxing philosophical about the friendship her son had with Sunset and me. Commander Worf rattled out some nonsense about how much honor Sunset had and how she died well. And so on, until Captain Picard went up.
“I didn’t know Lieutenant Shimmer as well as I might have liked to,” Picard began. “I was her Captain, yes, but outside of a few instances, we rarely interacted. Something I now regret.” He paused a moment, then turned his gaze to look at Amina, T’Lona, and me. “I know what it’s like to lose family that you care for deeply. Just a few days prior to Sunset’s untimely death, I learned that my brother Robert and my nephew perished in a fire.”
I saw his jaw line tense significantly, but he pressed on. “A sudden death is never easy to cope with. But Sunset Shimmer died in the line of duty, protecting not just the lives of her crew, but the lives of an entire planet in the Veridian system. Two-hundred and thirty-million individuals who will never know her, or hear of her, owe her their lives. I want to reward that level of commitment to Starfleet’s ideals, to the ideals of the Federation. Self-sacrifice is a virtue few can live up to as well as she did.
“As such, I am officially awarding Sunset Shimmer a posthumous promotion to the rank of Lieutenant Commander. I only wish I could be giving it to her in person.”
Some deep, dark part of me rose up over this, filling me with a momentary black rage. A promotion? She dies, so you’re going to give her a pointless promotion?! What the hell is that even for? Just to make you feel better?
Then I felt T’Lona’s hand rest on my neck, and slowly my anger faded away.
“Now, are there any others who would like to say something before we turn things over to Sunset’s family?” Picard inquired.
No one spoke up, so Picard took a seat. T’Lona went first, and gave a short, quiet speech about her first meeting with Sunset. Nothing I hadn’t heard a thousand times, but unlike listening to others babble on about such things, from my Mother it was comforting. Like an old family blanket wrapped around you on a cold winter’s night, the familiarity as comforting as the warmth.
Amina gave her speech next. Much like Mother’s, it wasn’t anything I hadn’t heard, but Mom gave her words a sense of emotion few others had managed. Or maybe that was my heart aching over the reminders of times past.
Then it was my turn. At first I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Not because I didn’t care–of course I did–but because it felt like no matter what I said, I might be leaving something out. But after a moment’s hesitation, I got up off my chair and trotted up to the front. I gazed at the crowd, of expectant, patient faces, and began to speak.
“Sunset meant more to me than almost anything else in the world. She wasn’t just my big sister. She was the only other person like me. The only other pony. That’s why we both joined Starfleet: we want to find our home. Find where we came from.” I paused for a moment, casting my eyes from person to person, then continued. “But it also sounds like Sunset found a second home here, on this ship. One that she cared about enough to give up her life for. I… I want to be mad at her. I want to hate her. I want to shout at her, ask her why she abandoned us… abandoned me.” I held a hoof up to my chest. “But I knew her too well. I know that’s not what she did. If she sacrificed herself, she did it because she knew it was the right thing to do. The only thing she could do.”
I drooped, lowering my head. “I know I’m going to miss her. I’m gonna miss her a lot. And I’m going to do what she wasn’t able to do. I’m going to find Equestria, our original home, so I can tell them what happened. So I can carry her home with me.”
With that, I trotted over and fell back into my seat. I wasn’t sure where some of that came from. Like I was trying to give some inspiring speech, rather than pouring out my heart. But it earned some polite applause all the same.
Then La Forge went back up, pronounced there would be a small after-ceremony gathering to talk about Sunset and to speak with each other. Certainly not a party, or even a wake. Just quiet talk.
As soon as I got the chance, I made a beeline for the one I intended to speak with, before she could rush out the door. “Lieutenant Smith, ma’am,” I called.
Smith froze, then slowly turned around and gave me a strained smile. “Oh, um, howdy,” she said. “Ah didn’t realize you recognized me.”
“Sunset told me a lot about you while you and her were together,” I replied.
“Oh she did, huh?” Smith let out a wry chuckle and shook her head. “Ah guess she would. She talked about you all the time too, you know. She was real proud of you. Always had somethin’ good to say.”
“...thanks,” I mumbled, too overwhelmed to figure out a better response. I mean, I’d always known she was proud of me, but… it never hurt to hear it, especially from someone who was as close to her as Smith was.
“Sure.” Smith fidgeted in place, glancing at the door. “Ah, Ah should probably get goin–”
“It would’ve made her very happy, to know you were here, at the ceremony,” I said. “She considered you a very good friend, even after what happened.”
Smith gaped at me for a moment, squeezing one fist by her side. A few tears dripped down her cheeks. Then she spun on her heel and rushed out without another word.
I let her go. I’d said what I needed to say.
The instant I turned around, Cadeneza and Wattson were in my face, looking down at me with matching mournful expressions. “Hey, Sparkie,” Cadeneza said. “Amelia and I are gonna head back down to San Fran, hit up a local bar. You wanna come along? Might take your mind off things.”
My initial instinct was to refuse, since bars weren’t exactly my scene. But then I glanced over at the crowd of quietly chatting people, including my parents, who were mingling with the rest. All constantly talking about Sunset. All talking about someone who was gone and never coming back. And I’d heard so much I just… I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”
We quickly fled Ten-Forward and found our way to a different transporter room than the one I’d arrived in, this one staffed by a single chief, idly adjusting something on his console. “Oi, chief,,” Cadeneza ordered as the three of us hopped onto the pad. “Three to beam down to San Francisco. Valencia Street, Mission District.”
“Um, with respect, ma’am,” the chief said, “I wasn’t informed of any–”
“Excuse you,” Cadeneza interrupted, pointing to her collar. “You understand I’m your superior officer, yeah?”
Properly chastised, the chief nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Energizing now.”
My world disappeared, replaced by late evening San Francisco. The cool air sliced through my cadet’s uniform like knives, making me shiver. “Where’re we going?” I asked. “I don’t know anything about this part of San Francisco.”
“Just over here.” Cadeneza directed us towards the closest establishment, one with a glitzy exterior and an interior full of high-quality wooden furniture and a homey atmosphere, complete with ringing bell when the door opened. The place held few patrons, likely just locals, who all gave us curious glances upon spotting our Starfleet uniforms. Cadeneza ignored them and directed us to the bar.
The barkeep, an older human man with greying hair and a long, flowing beard, stared down at me while polishing a glass. “You know we don’t allow pets in here, Cadeneza,” he said after a moment.
“Haha, very funny, Xu,” Cadeneza snorted as we all took our seats, with me in the center, and Cadeneza on my left. “Give us three shots of whiskey to start off with. And I mean the real premo stuff; Teeling, Vintage Reserve.”
Xu shrugged, set the glass down, then turned and reached for a large bottle hanging on a high shelf. With a few quick movements he set down three shot glasses and filled them up. “Hope your latinum’s going to be good for all this.”
“Relax, I’ve got it.” Cadeneza said, withdrawing her PADD out from her pocket. She tapped a few keys and then nodded to him. “See?”
Xu glanced at something I couldn’t see behind the counter, then a small smile formed on his face. “Good.” He glanced over at me. “You gonna be okay with that glass, hoss?”
Glaring back, I ignited my horn and took hold of the whiskey. “I’ve got it, thanks.”
He raised an eyebrow at that, then shrugged again. As Xu moved away, Wattson leaned over to whisper in my ear, “Don’t mind him. He’s just a grumpy old goose. Never leaves his bar except to go upstairs to his apartment. Helps keep the place quiet. It’s why Jacqueline and I like it.”
I stared down at my floating shot glass full of whiskey. I’d drank alcohol before, of course. Mom introduced me to some of the real stuff at special holiday dinners when I was fourteen. I didn’t touch it that often though, not like Sunset. It never had much appeal.
At least, it didn’t used to. The thought of getting blackout drunk sounded nice for once, and the surprisingly fragrant aroma of raisins and tropical fruit, along with many others, tempted me even further. So I knocked back the dark amber shot in a hurry. The fruity crispiness burned like napalm going down my gullet and hit my stomach like a depth charge. It tasted interesting, but felt horrible.
Just like me.
I thought back to what I said during the memorial. About how I didn’t hate Sunset. How I didn’t blame her for abandoning us. And I wondered… Do I blame her? Am I mad? Do I… hate my sister?
I didn’t know. I didn’t want to know right now. Blacking out crap like this was why I felt the need to get drunk. I didn't even realize I'd been pawing at the empty glass with a hoof when I looked up at the bartender. "Another."
Xu considered that, then nodded and poured me a second. “Take it easy on this, kid. Trust me.”
“I’m not a kid,” I growled.
Wait. Hate? Why would I hate Sunset? I thought, staring at the refilled drink in front if me.That’s impossible.
Right?
I slammed the second shot down my throat and mentally asked myself over and over again, but as the fire spread from my stomach to my head, I honestly couldn’t tell if the ire in my veins was from the whiskey or a growing sense of betrayal.
“No, you’re not, Sparkie,” Cadeneza said, patting me on the back while she sipped at her own whiskey. “You gave a good speech today. I almost cried.”
“You did cry,” Wattson retorted. “Sunset… she’s worth crying over.”
“Yeah,” I murmured as I took another gulp of the crispy fruity drink who's burn had become comfortable. Companionable, even. “She shouldn’t’ve died.”
“No. She shouldn’t have,” Cadenza agreed.
A quiet chirp emerged from my combadge. I glanced down at it and sighed. “Mom and Mother are probably wondering where I am.”
“Eh, you’re an adult,” Cadeneza said. She took the combadge off my chest and shoved it into my pocket. “They can live without you for a bit.”
“We’ll apologize to them later,” Wattson added when my face twisted up with doubt. “You’re with friends. It’s not like you’ve been kidnapped by your worst enemy.”
Sunset would say do it, you know, my mind insisted. Mother and Mom will be fine. You need this. “Yeah, you’re right,” I said, resolving to ignore further attempts at communication. “I’m glad you two came, by the way.”
“Are you kidding?” Wattson gave me a smile, but it was fragile, prone to breaking at the slightest touch. “Sunset was, like, one of our best friends. And she mentored us, ya know? ‘Sides, we’re both stationed planetside for now.”
“I keep telling them to send me out there,” Cadeneza said with a sigh. “How’s a xenobiologist supposed to study xenobiology if she’s stuck on her home planet, huh?”
“What, sleeping with every female alien to cross your path not enough for you?” I snarked, a nasty smile briefly gracing my face.
“Woah! Sparkie's got some sparks!” Wattson laughed, clapping me on the back. “Damn, didn’t know you had that in you.”
Cadeneza scowled for a moment, then gulped her whiskey in one go. “Xu, pour me something harder, would you? Don’t waste my time with vodka or rum. I mean something hard.”
Xu chuckled, a sound like gargling sandpaper, then bent down low under the bar. We heard the sound of a few beeps before a locked door popped open, then he rose again holding a large bottle of blue liquid. “How’s Romulan Ale sound?”
My eyes widened a touch at the sight. “You know that’s illegal, right?” I asked.
“Oh come off it, Sparkie,” Cadeneza said as she held her glass out. “Pour it here.”
Wattson drained her glass in a hurry. “Me too.”
I hesitated for a moment then I swallowed the rest of my whiskey and slid my glass forward as well. “Me three.”
He poured us each a round, then set the bottle back down under the bar.
Cadeneza held up her glass. “To Sunset Shimmer. For being a good friend.” She glanced at me. “And a good sister to this one.”
“Here here,” Watson said as she clinked her glass to Cadeneza’s.
“To Sunset,” I whispered as I did the same. This time when I drank, it went down smooth, tingly, as if to say everything would be alright, that there was nothing to worry about. And then it hit my stomach like a photon torpedo, to the point I doubled over, wheezing.
Cadeneza broke out laughing, her cheeks turning a rosy red. “Ahahahaaha! Just like the Romulans to design a drink that lies to you going down.” She dropped her glass to the table as her laughter flipped instantly into sobbing. She doubled over onto the bar. “Y-you know what I regret? Something I should’ve told Sunset when I had the chance?”
Seeing Cadeneza sob tore at my heart. I scooted a bit closer to her and placed a hoof on her back, gently rubbing her like I would for Sunset when she was upset. “What’s that?”
Cadeneza shrugged and let out a sad giggle. “I had a crush on her. A god-damned schoolgirl crush, if you can believe it.”
Had Sunset still been alive, I might’ve shrieked at Cadeneza. Screamed about how gross it would be, her of all people laying hands on Sunset. But… somehow I couldn’t summon up the anger. The rage over it died before it could ignite. “That would’ve been something,” I chuckled.
“I kept telling you, Jacquie,” Wattson said, her words just a little slurred now from the ale. “Should’a told Sunshet.”
“Eh. Screw it. Not like it matters now,” Cadeneza said, swallowing more of her ale. “‘S’all meaningless.”
I heard the sound of the door’s bell ringing, but I ignored it. “I hear you,” I murmured as I drained my glass dry.
As Xu poured me another glass, Wattson poked me in the shoulder. “Hey, Sparkie, do you think–”
“Excuse me.”
The three of us all lazily turned to see Kelia Maia of all people standing there in her cadet’s uniform, a phaser by her side, glaring at the three of us. “Maia?” I blurted, having to shake my head to clear out the sudden, brief image of two Maias standing there. “What’re… what’re you doin’ here?”
“Seeking to bring you home,” Maia growled. “Your parents are furious with your disappearance.”
“Oh come the hell on, Cadet,” Cadeneza snarled as she jumped off her stool to glare Maia in the eye. “Sparkie’s an adult. She don’t need no Starfleet security wannabe dragging her home by her ears because her mommies are throwing a hissy fit.”
“Um, hey, that’s a bit rude, Jacquie,” Wattson said, also standing up so she could lay a hand on Cadeneza’s shoulder. “I’m sure this Cadet, uh…”
“Maia.”
“Cadet Maia’s just doin’ her job.” Wattson eyed Maia suspiciously. “Right?”
“Yes, I am,” Maia answered after giving me a look. “Part of my training, doing basic security work in the city.”
“Well, thanks, Maia, but I don’t want to go home,” I said, pointedly turning back to the bar. “I’m on leave. You can’t force me.”
“Yes, actually, I can,” Maia retorted. She took a step forward and placed a hand on my shoulder. “If need be I do have the authority to detain you.”
“For what?!” Cadeneza shouted, throwing her hands up in the air. “For having a drink at a bar, like any other adult?”
“For failure to report for duty when asked to by her superior officers,” Maia replied simply.
Cadeneza made a fist with her right hand and punched it into her left. “Oh that’s it. Last warning, cadet. Leave. Or I’ll pound your ass into the ground.”
I spit out the ale I was half-way into sipping. “Uh, Cadeneza… you know that’s my old roommate, right?”
“Yeah, Jacquie, let it go,” Wattson said, tugging at Cadeneza’s uniform sleeve. “Come on. We’re in public, in uniform. Let’s not make a scene.”
Maia tensed up her limbs. I didn’t have to see her face to know what kind of smile was slowly forming there. “Threatening a fellow officer can land you in the brig, ma'am,” she said as she let go of me and stepped away from the bar.
“I think I’ll take my chances,” Cadeneza said as she brought her fists up, her mouth stretched in a savage grin. “Get ready to taste the floor, dipshit.”
“Taste the floor?” Wattson scoffed and turned to Xu. “Xu, you gonna stop this?”
Xu took a few steps back from the bar. “Only if it goes too far.”
I turned around in my chair. “Guys, please,” I said. “It’s not worth–”
Cadeneza threw a punch that landed on the side of Maia's face. Maia took a step back, reeling for just a moment, then brought a finger up to her lips, and came away with blood. “Big mistake,” she laughed.
Maia brought her fists up and fired off a one two punch Cadeneza’s way, but Cadeneza easily blocked them, letting them bounce off her wrists. Even with the alcohol burning throughout her veins, Cadeneza showed no signs of clumsiness or sloth as she bounced on the balls of her feet and studied her foe.
“You know, I grew up in a pretty rough place,” she said, feinting a blow to the head before lashing out with a kick that caught Maia in the side.
Maia grunted as she absorbed the hit, then followed up with a few kicks of her own before sending off an uppercut that just barely missed clipping Cadeneza’s chin. “So did I,” Maia replied.
Cadeneza closed the distance and pummeled at Maia’s face, forcing the younger woman to bring up her arms to fend off the blows. “Bet you mine was rougher!”
I saw the devious glint in Maia’s eye and reached out a hoof to warn Cadeneza, but I reacted far too late. Maia hooked her foot under Cadeneza’s leg, slamming Cadenza onto the ground before following with a stomp from her booted heel that dug directly into Cadeneza's stomach. “No. It wasn’t.”
Cadenza folded in on herself, clutching her stomach, gasping for air. I saw the green on her face and dodged out of the way just fast enough to avoid the splash of vomit. “Jesus,” she choked.
Maia pulled her phaser and trained it on Cadeneza. “If I were you, I’d stay down, unless you want this reported.” She glanced over at me. “Come with me, now, and I won’t say a word about this to my superiors.”
I flashed Wattson and Cadeneza an apologetic glance and a wave, ignoring Cadeneza's faint groans and grumbles of cowards. I stood next to Maia and reached into my pocket with my magic, plucking out my combadge, and placing it back on my chest. “Okay. I’m coming.”
It took a week before my parents calmed down completely. Both expressed severe worry for me, with Mom even saying that the last thing she needed right now was to lose her other daughter. At the time she said it, my booze-addled mind insisted she was overreacting, that I was obviously okay.
Of course she was right. I realized as much the next day, and apologized.
We spent the rest of our leave time together, visiting various places we visited often before Sunset died. I think my parents hoped this would bring some level of catharsis, a way of letting go of Sunset, honoring the presence she’d had in our lives.
To me it just felt like we were trying to forget her instead.
I resumed the Academy a couple of weeks late into the term, and had to rapidly make up what I’d missed. The stress of that plus Sunset’s loss left me crying in my quarters more than once, my tears soaking into Preta’s fur. She practically acted like a security blanket at times, though she didn’t seem to mind at all. I was so grateful they let me keep her as my roommate for the first half of third year.
Twice a week I was ordered to seek counseling. Unfortunately, while Belle was my preferred therapist of choice, even she didn’t have time to see me as often as I needed her. So she introduced me to her colleague and aid, Inanna Eresh, a human woman of Arabian descent, who used to be an archeologist before switching to psychology. She and Belle used many of the same techniques and methods in their counseling, though at times Inanna came off as just a little bit colder, more aloof.
This situation continued throughout the rest of the first half of third year. I threw myself into my studies harder than before, more determined than ever to achieve for Sunset what she’d never be able to do now. I doubled down on combat training, spending time with Maia any chance I got. I applied for every rare opportunity and pushed for every extra bit of credit I could achieve, to the point that by the end of the term, I completely blew away everyone else at the finals.
Yet, when I came home for the weeks of leave before the second half of the year, Mom seemed… worried. One day she took me aside in her office. “Hey, honey, how’re you doing?”
“I’m fine?” I snorted, rolling my eyes. “What about it?”
“Well…” Amina held up her hands, rubbing them together while she thought. “Twilight, T’Lona and I are worried about you. You’ve changed.”
Arching my eyebrows, I glanced down at my body, which had bulked up a bit in terms of muscle from all the extra exercise. “I mean, I guess I have a little.”
Amina shook her head and smiled softly. “No, I don’t mean that. I’m talking about your attitude, sweetheart. You’re…." She hesitated and bit her lip. "You’ve grown colder, meaner.”
I rolled my eyes again. “No I haven’t. I’m fine.”
“Twilight, this doesn’t just come from us,” Amina countered. “This comes from Belle and Inanna too. They’ve both seen it. You’re not as considerate as you used to be. You’re… well, I’d never stoop to calling you a jerk, but–”
“You just did,” I said, glaring at her. “Gee, thanks Mom. I thought you’d be proud of me for doing so well after Sunset died.”
“Twilight, that’s not what I’m talking about. Of course I’m proud of your academic performance, but...” She frowned, then reached out to give me a hug. “I know you’re still hurting. We all are. I’m worried about you. You’re not who you used to be.”
“Of course I’m not,” I replied, my lips pulling back into a sneer, even though she couldn’t see it with my head on her shoulder. “None of us are.”
“Maybe not, but, we can recover,” Amina said. She ran a hand down my head and neck, then brought me forward to kiss me on my forehead. “And the last thing I’d want to see is for you to become cold-hearted. That’s not who you are, Twilight.”
I wanted to push her away. To insult her. To snap at her. But… that wouldn’t have been right. It wasn’t her fault I’d changed. Nor was it Mother’s. Or my friends.
...no. No I knew whose fault it was. It was Sunset. It was her fault I’m changing. Losing her hurt more than anything I could’ve imagined.
Damn you, Sunset.
I snuggled deeper into the hug, nuzzling her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mom. It’s just… it’s been so hard.”
“I know, sweetie. I know.”
I spent the two weeks till the second half of third year taking sessions with Belle and Innana, and following through on extra credit classes. Nothing much to speak of till I returned to the Academy, until I arrived at my new quarters, where I discovered an envelope waiting on my desk next to the usual PADD with my class schedule.
Inside was a single green isolinear chip, with a simple label that read “Sunset Shimmer.” Feeling a bit shaken, I plugged it into my terminal to check. There were two files, one that might’ve been a holodeck program, and the other one a video message, which I played.
The soft smiling face of Commander La Forge appeared, sitting at a desk in some office on Mars, judging by the red dusty dirt and sky outside the window behind him. To my surprise he no longer wore a VISOR; instead it had been replaced with some sort of new implants, ones that gave him the appearance of having blue eyes just slightly the wrong shade to be normal for a human.
“Hello Cadet Sparkle,” he said, giving me a nod. “I wanted to give this to you in person, but I’m afraid the Enterprise-E is preparing to launch for its shakedown cruise. The technicians working on the old Enterprise saucer discovered this holoprogram deep in its databanks. It belonged to your sister. Looks like it’s something she was working on for several years. She included a message for you too; out of respect for your privacy, I didn’t watch it. It should play after this one. I’m sorry we weren’t able to get this to you sooner.”
His image winked out, immediately replaced by my sister. Seeing her smiling face, her mane of red and yellow spilling out onto her golden Starfleet uniform caused my heart to skip several beats. She was seated at a desk in what I presumed were her quarters. A stardate accompanied the recording, in the lower left corner, 48126.5, meaning it was recorded several months before she died. “Hey Twilight!” she said, waving.
“Hi Sunset,” I whispered back.
“I wasn’t sure when I wanted to record this. Thought I’d do it now, just so I don’t forget. Soooooo, happy graduation! I’m so proud of you. I knew you could do it! Sorry I’m not there to see them slap that Ensign’s pip on your collar; I’m sure there must be some good reason I’m not. You wouldn’t be seeing this otherwise.” Sunset laughed to herself, her cheeks turning red. “Good grief. Listen to me. I’m not prepared for this at all. I should probably rerecord this when it gets closer to your graduation.”
I reached out to the screen and placed my hoof on it. Wetness ran down my cheeks. “It’s okay, Sunset. I don’t mind.”
“Well, anyway, I’ve been working on something here for the both of us, and if all goes well, I’ll be giving it to you as a graduation present. You know, just in case you don’t get posted to the Enterprise with me, or you do right as I get transferred elsewhere. It’s something I think you’ll like.”
I watched her reach forward and tap a few keys on the terminal below, then a smaller picture appeared, inset in the lower right hand corner of the screen. I gasped when I recognized the exterior of Canterlot Castle, just like I remembered it. “You see, it’s a holodeck program,” Sunset said. “Of Equestria. Right now I just have Canterlot Castle and part of Canterlot’s exterior, but I’m hoping to expand it to the rest of the city. It’s… well, it’s having to use a bit of procedural generation with corrections from my memory, so it probably won’t be perfect, a-and I’m still working out the bugs when it comes to the holocharacters populating the environment not being very distinct from each other, but hey, it’s Equestria, right?”
“Oh wow,” I breathed. “Sunset, that’s…”
Sunset immediately bowed to the screen and flashed me a smug grin. “I know, your BSBFF is awesome. Anyway, right now I’ve only got Princess Celestia programmed to respond to me, but I’m hoping by the time I send you this she’ll respond to you too, as if you were her student. Kind of silly to interact with a hologram of the Princess, I know, but I figured it might be a fun little escape if you ever needed it. Just don’t forget it is just a holoprogram. It’s not real. And hey, maybe show it off to a few of your crew mates.”
“...I will, Sunset.”
Sunset winked at the screen. “So, like I said before, congratulations on graduating, and hopefully I’ll be able to see you in person sometime soon. Worst case, I’m sure we’ll find some way to meet up. Gotta stick to that goal of finding Equus, after all.” She gave me a wide smile. “I love you, Twilight. I’m always here for you, whenever you need me. You take care now, okay? Bye bye!” She waved once, then the video winked out.
“Bye…” I whispered as I fell backwards in my chair, a few quiet sobs escaping me. Seeing her talk to me again… in that moment, all my anger, my frustration towards her, it all faded away. All I could see was the sister I loved. “I love you too, Sunset.”
“Are you crying?”
At the sound of the deep but feminine voice, I spun in my chair. Another cadet stood there, one I didn’t recognize, with blonde hair streaming down her back as far as regulations would allow, and sharp, piercing blue eyes. She towered over me, about one and three quarters meters in height. She frowned at me, upper lip curled just enough to imply a sneer without going all the way.
I straightened up in my chair immediately, and wiped my face. “Not–yes, I was, but I’m fine. I’m Twilight Sparkle. I’m guessing you’re my new roommate?”
“It would seem that way, yes,” she answered, her words coming through in a smooth accent with just enough French to spice her words. She eyed me for a moment, then stuck out a glove-covered hand. "Clairicia Françoise Danielle. ”
I shook her hand. “Nice to meet you. Mind if I ask why the gloves?”
She smiled briefly. “Safety requirement. I’m half-Deltan.”
I blinked at that, then turned to my terminal. “I’m not sure I’m familiar with Deltans off the top of my head.”
Her smile reappeared, this time to stay. “There are a lot fewer Deltans in Starfleet these days. It is a difficult profession for most.”
After typing at my terminal, I nodded in understanding. “Oh, that’s right. Deltans are the species with pheromones so strong they have to swear an oath of celibacy just to serve. But you’re half-Deltan, so what does–”
“It means that if you want to avoid becoming helplessly enamoured with me, don’t touch my skin for very long,” she replied. Her smile dropped. “May I ask what you were crying about?”
Any sense of a good mood evaporated. My thoughts drifted back to Sunset. “Just… my sister. She died a few months ago, and they unearthed a message she was supposed to send me when I graduated. Don’t worry about it.”
“Very well,” Danielle said. She strode over to her desk, turned on her terminal, and got to work.
It took a number of weeks before she and I developed any sort of rapport. She was distant most of the time, but every so often she loosened up and turned into a happy go-lucky friendly girl, like she’d just downed ten tons of sugar and was working off the energy. It made for a nice change; I just wish I knew what caused it.
The rest of my third year at the Academy passed much like the first half had. I threw myself deep into my studies, only briefly coming up for air when some combination of Preta, Maia, Cadeneza, and Wattson teamed up to pull me away for a while. Sometimes they brought Danielle along for the ride, but she never seemed to have all that much fun.
Every once in a while I'd stumble into the bar Cadeneza took me to after the memorial service. I kept my drinking to a minimum, but the atmosphere was nice. Helped me to get away from things.
Before I knew it, I’d finished my third year at the Academy. I’d aced all my subjects, of course. It was never in any doubt, not anymore. I was too determined, too certain of my purpose to risk failure.
It was only during that summer I finally got a chance to check out the holodeck program. I took Cadeneza, Wattson, Preta, and Maia all along with me. Though Clairicia turned down my invitation, due to her brief posting on the Crazy Horse for one of her summer courses. We were granted permission by my Mom to use one of the Academy holodecks, “For one time only.”
“So this is gonna basically be like your home planet, right?” Cadeneza asked, her hands shoved into the pockets of that leather coat I hated.
“Supposedly,” I said, trying not to gag. It wasn't the smell, or appearance that drove me insane, she just always acted so… so Cadeneza while wearing the stupid thing. “This is the first time I’m running it.”
“Let’s get this over with,” Maia said, glaring daggers at the back of Cadeneza’s head every once in a while. Despite all the times spent hanging out since, those two never got along. And Cadeneza had doubled down on being a bit of a jerk to me too, like she still hated the fact I went with Maia instead of staying with her that night. It didn’t stop us from spending time together as friends, but it strained our friendship, that was for sure.
“Oh, don’t be so hasty,” Preta retorted, giving Maia side eye. “This means a lot to Twilight. We’re here to support her.”
“Whatever.”
“Okay, everyone, here we go,” I said as I brought out the isolinear chip and stuck it into the arch. “Computer! Run program Sunset Beta-four-seven.”
The grid pattern of the floor and walls faded, replaced with a bustling exterior instantly familiar to me, scents and all. The busy Canterlot marketplace, with its stalls of freshly baked bread and newly harvested fruits and vegetables. Shops for various goods lined both sides of the street corner. In the middle of the square a fountain burbled, casting water atop a bronze statue of Princess Celestia.
And the ponies! The ponies were everywhere. Speaking proper Ponish at that. My ears opened up, taking in the sound of those flowing syllables, the whinnies, the nickers, produced by proper pony throats, not technologically translated. In the distance, the great towers of Canterlot Castle loomed, rising above as if to wave down at the ponies and greet them with kindness and hope. The sun overhead streamed down, bathing the square in its warm light.
“Wow,” Cadeneza said, whistling. “I’m impressed. You weren’t kidding when you said there weren’t just unicorns, huh?”
I turned to see her staring at a pegasus who sat on a nearby bench, his wings outstretched to either side while he sat reading a newspaper. “Nope. I told you.”
“Seems pretty primitive,” Maia commented. She pointed up at one of several streetlights. “Is that an oil lantern?”
“And no computers. No vehicles,” Preta added. Then she glanced up at the sky and her mouth fell open. “Or maybe there are. Look!”
We all looked up to see a large airship flying overhead, its gondola filled up with ponies. The twin rotors at the back spun it on its merry way. “An airship? Wow, that’s ancient tech if I’ve ever seen any,” Wattson said. She beamed and rubbed her hands together. “Might be fun to get my hands on one of those.”
“I doubt it’s properly programmed,” I said dryly as I walked over to one side of the fountain and stuck my hoof out to feel at the falling water. “Sunset didn’t exactly come to Earth with a copy of an airship engine manual.”
“Even so, I wouldn’t mind trying to fly one,” Preta interjected. “Imagine it. The wind in your hair, the slow hum of the engines as you flew on your merry way…”
“....the screams as hydrogen fueled gas bags explode for no reason,” Cadeneza quipped with a mischievous smirk.
“Stop it, Jacqueline,” Wattson said coolly. “I’m sure they’re not stupid enough to use hydrogen.”
I ignored them, too caught up in my fellow ponies, even if they were holographic ponies, to care much. The ponies passed around me without giving me a look or any other form of acknowledgement, as if I wasn’t even there. In a way that was comforting. I was just another one of the crowd, no more or less distinct than any other. I wasn’t the last living member of my race that had been hurtled halfway across the galaxy, or wherever Equus was located. I watched pegasi take flight, including two foals playing and laughing without a care in the world. I watched unicorns casually use their telekinesis without everyone around them gaping in surprise.
Eventually my wanderings led me to the gates of Canterlot Castle. Just inside I could see the path that led over to the School for Gifted Unicorns. The tower that rose above it seemed unchanged, not even a hint different from how it appeared–however faint and grainy–in my mind. Without meaning to, I wandered inside. I passed by a few students going to and from their classes, who ignored me like everyone else, until I came to an empty classroom.
“This is it.” When I closed my eyes, I could see them, the ponies with their clipboards, penciling away, sealing my fate as a worthless pony who’d never get a proper education. I could see my parents over by the chalkboard, cheering me on, trying to encourage me despite a growing sense of trepidation and worry. Princess Celestia, larger than life, appearing to save me. The sudden surge as I…
But when I opened my eyes, nothing was there. Just an empty classroom. Well, that, and Preta standing nearby, looking at me with a worried expression. “Is something wrong, Twilight?” she asked as she closed the distance, ready to hug if necessary.
“This is where it happened,” I said. I stepped over to the window, right where I had been standing when the initial explosion of sound occurred. “I was right here when my magic surged.”
“Oh, yes, you told me,” she said as she stared around the classroom, then wrapped an arm around me. “Why don’t we take you out of here. The others want to explore the castle. That might be more fun. You never got to see the castle as a kitten, right?”
I snickered. “Foal. You mean foal. And no, I didn’t.”
“Well then what’re you waiting for?””
Going into my fourth year at the Academy, the pressure heated up by several notches. Unlike the first three years, my roommate kept to herself, and I barely managed to learn her name and species–Barra, an Antican–before she clammed up and refused to say any more. That suited me just fine, because I never had a spare second for small talk anyway. Every bit of my energy went into my assignments, which I sought to excel at to new heights.
Around the beginning of that year, a war started with the Klingons, of all people. Which was kept to skirmishes near the Cardassian border and outlying colonies, it never came close to affecting things on Earth. But it still worried me.
Early on in the year, they asked me to mentor a second-year cadet in his own scientific studies, a Ferengi named Nog. He was the only Ferengi in Starfleet, much like how I was the only Equestrian left in Starfleet, so they probably assumed we’d get along because of that. He certainly had some interesting perspectives on things, especially when it came to money. And he tried to introduce me to snail juice. I didn’t care for it.
But what I found utterly fascinating was his philosophy--religion?--called the Rules of Acquisition. A few of them were… distasteful to me, given how male dominated Ferengi society seemed to be, but most of them were such a different way of looking at things they stuck in my head. My absolute favorite? Number 208: “Sometimes the only thing more dangerous than a question is an answer.”
Once he left for some assignment on a starbase or starship somewhere far away, I was put onto a ship myself for two months. The Bellerophon, an Intrepid-class starship, had me work in stellar cartography, helping to chart various solar anomalies and other associated phenomena during their short mission. It was more about the experience, getting to serve aboard a proper starship. I spent extra hours almost every night combing the data they’d collected in the hopes of spotting Equus. No such luck, but it did earn me some extra praise from the chief science officer.
The end of my time on the Bellerophon marked the beginning of my final term as a cadet, and I threw every last fiber of my being into my remaining classes. The effort burned me down, night after night collapsing exhausted into bed, but it was worth it. I was so burnt out, in fact, I completely missed the second invasion of Earth by the Borg.
And then just as suddenly, it was over. The final exams passed, the graduation ceremony announced. And I found myself walking to sit down in the crowd of fellow graduates, ready for my chance to walk up on that stage.
Though I would go last. Like Sunset, I was the valedictorian. It was never in question, even if a few other cadets gave me prickly looks, including my fourth year roommate. I was just too dedicated.
I watched cadet after cadet go up to the stage, receive their assignments, and leave as Ensigns, while I sat there, fidgeting in place, impatient. And perturbed. Something at the back of my mind prickled, suggesting something might go wrong. I didn’t know where this sense came from and I didn’t want to listen to it. But I wasn’t going to let a bout of nerves stop me. Not now. Not after everything I’d put myself through to get this far on my own.
“And finally, Twilight Sparkle!”
The crowd hushed as I left my seat and trotted up to the stage, taking my position at attention in front of Admiral Brand. “You know,” said the Admiral after a moment. “Four years ago, I had the privilege and the honor of naming your sister an Ensign in Starfleet. She was the best of her class, and in many ways represented the best of Starfleet’s ideals. She was taken from us far too soon. Yet, here you stand, the Valedictorian of the class of 2373, and with the same determination that I saw in her eyes all those years ago.”
“Yes ma’am, Admiral,” I said. “I won’t let her down.”
“No, I’m sure you won’t.” Admiral Brand gave me a smile. “Well, as usual for our valedictorians, you were given a choice of assignments.”
I nodded. “I’m choosing to return to the Bellerophon.”
“Of course, you were posted there during your fourth year. An excellent choice.” Brand then bustled about bringing out the golden pip. I presented my collar, allowing her to remove the fourth year cadet pin and replace it. “No longer are you a cadet. You are now a Starfleet officer, Ensign Twilight–”
Alarms blared, spewing out red light across the entire area. Then, from every badge and speaker, “Attention all personnel. Emergency measures are in effect. Please remain where you are.”
“Ma’am?” I said, trying not to let the sounds panic me even as my fellow graduates broke into loud, confused chatter. “What’s happening?”
Brand ignored me, stepping away. “This is Admiral Brand! Report!”
“Admiral, we’ve got a Dominion battle cruiser that’s penetrated the Mars defense perimeter. It is making its way towards Earth with no sign of slowing down. No response to hails and its weapons are armed.”
“Dominion?” I whispered. Nog had told me about them. The mysterious faction on the other side of the Bajoran wormhole, in the Gamma Quadrant. They were under the rule of the Founders, a race able to change shape on a whim, with the Jem’Hadar as their foot soldiers, and the Vorta their administrators. And unlike the Klingons, the Dominion posed a grave threat to the entirety of the Alpha and Beta quadrants. But why would a single battle cruiser be hurtling towards Earth?
“How many starships do we have in orbit?” the Admiral asked.
“Fifteen, but most aren’t capable of putting up a proper fight. Still no response to hails.”
Brand cursed under her breath. “Any sign of their intended target?”
“No ma’am, they’re–they’re firing on the Agamemnon!”
The chatter in the crowd rose to a fever pitch as Brand ordered, “Then have all available ships return fire with whatever they’ve got! Bring it down!”
“Aye, ma’am.”
We all listened carefully, waiting for more reports. After a couple of moments of hearing nothing, Admiral Brand spoke up again. “Status?”
“Admiral, the Dominion ship’s taken severe damage but it still won’t stop. It’s on a collision course with the planet. Estimated impact zone… San Francisco.”
Brand shot up at once, pointing with her finger to the crowd. “Everyone, inside! Now! Let’s move!”
The entire outdoor auditorium filled with movement like a knocked off ant hill as scores of people hurried their way into the nearest buildings.
I stayed near the Admiral, choosing to help her direct people on where to go rather than abandon her. I saw her lips thin when she saw what I was doing, then she nodded and allowed me to proceed.
“Admiral, we’ve plotted its descent trajectory! It’s headed directly for the Academy!”
“Understood!” Brand replied as she directed the latest batch of people into one of the lecture halls. “Brand to Academy security! We need emergency structural integrity fields in every building, quick as you can!”
A flash of light reflecting on the glass of the building above me caught my eye, and I turned to see what looked like a fireball aiming right towards us, before the effects of reentry cleared, revealing a battle damaged ship that grew larger and larger by the second. My mind raced as I considered the numbers involved. If the ship’s warp core was even minimally intact, then it wouldn’t matter where we hid. We’d be dead.
“Ensign Sparkle!” the Admiral shouted. “You’re one of the last ones! Get inside!”
“Ma’am, I–”
BOOOM
The ship suddenly broke apart into several pieces, its trajectory changed at the last second. For a moment, just a moment, I thought I saw a hint of dark red energy surrounding the pieces before they plummeted into the ocean hard enough to spray water over the entire Golden Gate Bridge, and send swells pummeling both sides of the bay area.
“What happened?” I gasped. “Why’d it crash into the ocean?”
Brand tapped her combadge. “Report.”
“Ma’am, the ship hadn’t taken enough damage to break apart like that. We were about to activate emergency shields around key portions of the city. I have no idea why it crashed into the ocean.”
“Any severe damage?” Brand said.
“No ma’am. Only minor injuries and minimal damage. It stopped fighting part way through, as if something on board prevented it.”
“Understood. Brand out.” The Admiral turned to me, relaxing in her posture. “Well, Ensign, it seems we might get to hear your speech after all.”
“I’d certainly hope so. I’ve been waiting to hear this for a long time!”
My whole body froze at the sound of that voice, even as my heart jack-hammered, threatening to leap out of my chest. Gaping, I slowly turned around, looking for the source of that voice. That impossible voice.
Then I saw her. Standing right there. Disheveled, dusty, covered in cuts and bruises, wearing no clothing. But despite it, the shine in her eyes was unmistakable. Impossible. Utterly, impossibly, alive.
And then she spread her wings, and my whole world shattered.
“Hey sis. It’s good to see you again.”
