Finally the terrible meeting was over, and Felicity could drift back into the foam between worlds. Whatever inscrutable plans had been made to fight the unknown dangers of the void were beyond her understanding, but in some ways that didn’t even matter.
It felt like she’d died aboard the Alcyone with everypony else. Her body certainly had, or at least been left behind in the egg. Of course, that distinction mattered a whole lot less for a citizen, who wasn’t bound to the cycle of life and death and the strange fractional division of daughter minds.
Now that the proper authorities knew of her failure, Felicity wasn’t needed anymore. They would heal what she had broken, and maybe she could give up her elevated permissions. At least now she had some idea how so many members of her species could’ve sacrificed it.
I failed my crew. I was unfit to be their captain. I’m not strong enough to fight whatever’s waiting for us out there in the void. Not smart enough to outthink it.
At least they had smart leaders. Forerunner was creative, Lucky Break was determined, and Harmony… Harmony was ruthless.
But she didn’t drift very far or very long into the featureless void of white before she felt another presence beside her, yanking her focus back into something concrete. “I am not finished with you.”
She’d found herself on an old farmhouse of sorts in Upstream, half-converted with basic human technology. There was a large windmill on one side, some screens for entertainment, and mechanical conveniences in the kitchen. Felicity looked down, and realized she’d been harvesting apples. She couldn’t have said how long she’d been carrying them, or why.
The creature standing beside her was formed of braided metal and mechanical muscle, the representation of Harmony it chose most often when around ponies. “You should be,” she said, hefting the barrel down onto a worn metal table. She wiped the sweat from her brow, running her magic through her mane to try and straighten it a little. Not that Harmony usually cared about things like that, but she still had that instinct to be professional. “This failure is my fault, isn’t it? I’m the captain. If any of my crew died, their deaths are on my hooves. The best thing I can do for the navy is to fade away.”
Harmony circled once around her, its eyes wide and probing. Or… at least it seemed to be. Having just one of it here was its own flavor of strange. “You would not have said that in your last incarnation.”
Felicity froze. She wanted to argue, to insist that her past selves had been just as rational as the version she was now. But she didn’t actually know that. “It doesn’t make a difference how I used to be,” she argued. “Everypony’s been here so many times we’ve been everything, right? Dictators, heroes, lovers, fighters… it doesn’t matter what kind of pony I used to be.”
Harmony gestured at the air in front of her, which changed to a glowing window. She saw as if from a dozen different cameras as a pony darted through a ruined castle, with flashes of fire and fat iron crossbow bolts zipping past her. And when she turned around, the ponies following her died with a few careful shots.
Royal guards.
“Your last incarnation is your only previous incarnation, Felicity. Olivia Fisher, Expedition Leader, Colonial Governor.” The image changed, showing dingy corridors packed with rusting cages. Creatures died around her, as she covered the retreat of her friends and the slaves they’d come to rescue.
No… they’d come to buy. But she was fighting to keep them… Her head started to ache.
“Don’t try to understand all of it at once,” Harmony said, and the image vanished. “You must allow the primacy of one vision over another, or you will merge and be forced upstream. Even two identities are more complex than your body can hold.”
Felicity counted backward from ten, breathing heavily, until the strange memories faded. She’d grown up the child of a citizen and an ancient bat. She’d accepted citizenship shortly after her cutie mark, when she learned they needed an alicorn to be captain of their first interstellar expedition. She wasn’t a warlord, or a human explorer.
Except she’d still seen it. Even as the memories faded, she was left feeling strangely… numb. “It was a lie,” she whispered. “My whole life I… thought that Equus was my home. But I was wrong. I’m an invader.”
Harmony shrugged one metal shoulder. “Invader is not wholly accurate. In language you comprehend, consider yourself a… returning ancestor. Is it not common for an elderly progenitor to come to live with their more vital descendants when they grow incontinent?”
Why are you being kind to me? She didn’t think Harmony was even capable of feelings like kindness and mercy, yet it seemed to care how she felt. It’s using you, Felicity. It wants something. Figure out what and why.
Unfortunately for her, Harmony didn’t seem content to let her think things over on her own terms. “Your obsession with distributed information is unnecessary.” It advanced on her, and she backed towards the wall, eyes wide. But she couldn’t get away from it. Even if she ran, Harmony would always be waiting for her.
“We do not blame you for the deaths of your crew. Ultimately, we have always known that we would venture out into the galaxy anew. Those portions of the population who are content to retire in safety have already done so, leaving those least content with their lot as inheritors. You were in the chair while they died, but there is no action you could’ve taken to prevent it.”
She stopped, sniffing weakly. She hadn’t even realized she was crying. “What?”
“That system was a trap, designed for me. Recall what transpired.”
That wasn’t just friendly advice. Another window opened in the air beside them, showing the bridge of the Alcyone. She was forced to watch, her limbs powerless to move as she saw her failures recreated from her own memories.
“Right here.” The image paused. “See how its projectiles penetrate your shield. Do you recall what was said about your defense systems?”
“That…” She twitched, but her hooves still wouldn’t budge. She was hostage. “That they were the most advanced shield you know of. They would’ve been on one of your warships.”
“Precisely,” Harmony said. “And yet, they were pierced without resistance. Did you think that was your fault?” Harmony didn’t wait for her response. “There is no time to waste on history now, or we would impart you with an exhaustive knowledge of all things to grant greater context to your suffering.
“In its absence, know this. Ancestral life as you knew it was once unified. As it spread throughout the galaxy, its many splinters each developed their own solutions to the universal dangers of time, scarcity, and ignorance. The faction dominant here, whose descendants we are, were the Invokers.
“When the calamity came that unraveled all civilization, it… specialized, like a virus adapts to kill a single species. The weapons that destroyed the Alcyone date to that era, wielded by adversaries so terrible that your mind cannot comprehend them at this level of complexity. But those enemies were not present in the Atreides system, or else your mind would not have returned.
“Someone bated a trap for explorers like us, knowing we would come, with weapons designed to circumvent our technology. They have taken the lives of our citizens, or captured them. Either way, they are due the wages of their actions. And we will repay.”
If Harmony expected its words to make her feel better about her failure—it was right. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being manipulated. But Harmony’s power was so vast, there wasn’t much for her to do other than accept its will. She did want revenge for the Alcyone.
“But you’re… much more advanced than our hybrid of Equestria and the Pioneering Society. If your technology is… vulnerable, what are we supposed to do?”
“There are trillions of bacterial cells living in your guts,” Harmony answered. “A virus designed to kill you would not touch them. At first, they would not even notice your passing. Forerunner’s current incarnation is ancient and primitive, belonging to another faction. Call them the… Determinists. We will—have been—sharing all meaningful information regarding this faction for Forerunner to incorporate. Together, we will field a fleet of warships as sophisticated as we can construct, and travel back to the Atreides.
“You will be aboard the flagship,” Harmony finished. “Your experience with that enemy might be brief, but it is some of the only observational knowledge we have. We will not waste a valuable resource by letting you return to the void. You will therefore decide: join the fleet, or be copied and modified. Your clone will join the fleet in your place, and our need for you will end.”
She shuddered at the terrible implication. Some distant part of herself wanted to argue it was impossible… you couldn’t copy a soul! But Harmony didn’t seem perturbed. If I say no, a version of me will be created that remembers this differently.
“Will I actually do anything?” she asked. “This fleet is going to have its own crew, right? Of… higher complexity beings? I’m too stupid to do anything but answer a few questions about what I saw.”
Harmony shook its head. “You are complex enough. The artificial systems will likely be more complex than yourself, but your memories of Chorale indicate a productive relationship.”
“Are you going to give Escape Gear this offer?”
It nodded again. “She will necessarily accept citizenship as part of the bargain, or some other body Forerunner designs. We don’t believe she could be prevented from accompanying the mission regardless.”
“I accept,” Felicity said. She stuck out her hoof by reflex, before feeling incredibly stupid about it. Harmony didn’t take the offered limb. “Let’s give those bastards what they gave us, yeah?”
“Much more,” Harmony said, smacking one of its hooves against the ground. A swirling vortex opened just in front of her, with a faint view of somewhere upstream on the other side. “I have informed Atilla to expect you. Training aboard the Pandemonium has already begun, though it is not yet fully constructed. He seems eager to meet you.”
There was nothing for Felicity to do but step through the opening.
Felicity’s hooves settled not on the comfortable wood of the almost-Equestrian cabin, but on sheets of unfeeling metal. Her stomach lurched just a little, as the kind of gravity she felt and the gravity she expected disagreed violently with each other. She was spinning, and some Alicorn sense could tell. She took a few deep breaths, closed her eyes for a few seconds, and took a step forward.
This is the ground. You won’t get sick. Deep breath.
Then she opened her eyes. She was standing along a vast, slightly curved catwalk, with a ceiling well over her head. The corridor led away behind her into a space packed with tables and chairs and plastic plants. Just beside her, a round elevator platform seemed to lead up to parts unknown, though she didn’t trust the bizarre gravity not to smack her into the wall.
The one creature she didn’t see beside her was Harmony. She spun around, ruffling her wings in agitation. “You wanted me for this mission, Harmony. Where are you?”
There was no response, not even a faint glow in the air. Harmony had abandoned her.
She still looked and smelled like she’d stepped off a farm, straw hat, muddy boots and all. Without thinking, she teleported both aside, dismissing them with a flash of magic.
Sirens started blaring, and all around her the deck turned bright red, indicators flashing directly towards her. The alarm roared in a language she couldn’t understand, but here in Upstream all tongues were one. “Intruder detected! Causality violation in crew quarters! Marines to crew quarters!”
Well buck.