//------------------------------//
// Chapter 8 
// Story: Return to Sender 
// by Starscribe 
//------------------------------//

Captain Atilla had sent one of his own shuttles down to New Canterlot, its own kind of technological wonder. The shuttle was like a dragonfly made of glass, entirely transparent except for a spine that ran laterally above her. The floor and seats appeared whenever she walked, before fading away to slight distortions again as soon as she was in place.

“I still don’t understand these… what do they call themselves?” Escape Gear began from the seat beside her. 

“Varch’nai,” Felicity supplied. “I’m probably not pronouncing that correctly.”

She wasn’t, because when Escape Gear repeated the word a second later, there was a distinct trill to it that only the alien throat could impart. “Varch’nai.” Escape extended one limb, twisting the delicate hand almost three hundred sixty degrees around before pulling it back. The little fingers actually ended in tiny claws, because Escape hadn’t yet mastered retracting them. “Forerunner told me they were the greatest warriors in his database. But how can that be? I’ve seen grubs with thicker legs than mine.”

Felicity watched her squirm in her seat, momentarily distracted from the slowly retreating outline of their home far below. The hull seemed polarized somehow, because the light of the sun didn’t even cause modest discomfort. It was nothing more than a dull red glow, massive and distant.

Escape Gear’s choice to be instanced as one of the aliens had at least given Felicity a chance to see them without all the cloth and fancy robes. In a way, that made her appreciate a little more why a changeling of all creatures might choose the body. A distant relation of the Vitruvians, even further removed from their original human ancestors. Two sets of spindly arms, along with transparent wings along the back that were inadequate for full gravity but perfect for their natural home: space habitats. 

“That’s not what would bother me.” Felicity looked her up and down again—Escape wore a standard Pioneering Society jumpsuit, albeit tailored passably to the new body. “You look like you’re going to dry out. Do you need some lotion or something?”

Escape shook her head. “Forerunner says I only need about five hundred milliliters of water per day. These things designed themselves for space. If I was marooned on some asteroid, I’d be dead in two days.”

That does explain why they spend so much time in pods. And why their armor is so insane. They’ve blurred the line between themselves and their environment so completely there’s almost nothing left.

“But that’s not the point,” Escape said, her tone trilling high and apparently echoing through her body. It was even stranger than hearing a changeling, since at least changelings had lungs. “You’ve met them too. It’s all dignity and ceremony and drinking tea. Shouldn’t the fiercest warriors in Forerunner’s database be… fierce? Like minotaurs maybe, but… with razor claws, and three times the size!”

It wasn’t a surprising thing to hear from Escape. At her core she was an engineer, not a leader. “No. We’ve been on Equus so long we think of war as taking over land. Conquering a city, or a region. But to the rest of the universe, all the wars worth fighting were in space. Your body is… perfect for it. You can’t even live without your ship.”

Escape got up, her wings buzzing in her agitation. In the last few months of occasional visits to the Upstream version of this fleet, Felicity had never seen it from them. But then, she almost never saw their wings at all. “I guess that makes sense. But… what about the temperament? Did Atilla seem like a bloodthirsty warrior to you?” Her tone deepened a little, and she posed, folding her lower arms delicately while the upper ones extended into a bow. “Pleasure to see you again, Escape Gear. We are honored you would grace us with your company. You’ve made an esteemed choice to—” She stuck her tongue out. Dry, like the rest of her.

Felicity smiled ruefully. “I’m sure there were bloodthirsty space-warriors out there once. But do you think any of them would be in the database? They were bound to be a species that can accept migrating between data and being instanced. They were bound to be a…” Civilized wasn’t quite the right word, though it was the one that came to mind. “A force Forerunner could control. If they went swarming over the galaxy killing everything instead of only destroying what you aim them at, they’d be a poor weapon.”

Escape Gear fell silent, looking thoughtful. Or maybe she’d just noticed the view. There was something different about seeing the fleet with her own eyes.

It wasn’t greater fidelity, since of course Upstream always matched what you were able to perceive, the limits of its resolution always a single iota out of view. 

It wasn’t the simple scale of it, since of course even the largest and most powerful ships they could build would look like insects compared to Equus itself. 

As Felicity watched the fleet grow in her view, she imagined that it might be the simple knowledge that she was looking at something that had actually been built. So little of what her civilization did was in real space anymore. The actual universe was a cruel and thoughtless place. That was why they’d built their own. Compassion could only be given by the hooves of intelligent creatures. Space wasn’t going to give it to them.

There were over a hundred ships in the fleet, each one formed of virgin metal somehow dredged from the star itself. Felicity didn’t know how that actually worked, something about the array of stations parked over the star’s poles. Clearly they’d needed the metal, because the scale of these ships dwarfed even Lucky’s pet project of the Agamemnon.

From a distance, it seemed more like a school of fish circling a whale than a fleet of starships, each one drifting along complex paths before veering wildly in ways that defied her feeble understanding of stellar mechanics. As they got closer, Felicity rose to her hooves, staring in wonder. 

The “whale” she’d imagined wasn’t even one ship, but a complex formation of identical, vaguely elliptical starships, flying so closely that she couldn’t see the stars between them. 

“They’re identical from the outside,” Escape said, pointing out through the glass. “Same hull profiles, same energy signatures, everything. But most of them don’t have a single living passenger. Some are fuel reserves, some are weapons platforms—some are packed to the gills with spare parts and nothing else.”

Their shuttle flew straight into the maelstrom, not slowing even a little to dodge or wait for other ships to pass. It flew so fast that she imagined they'd be smashed against the sturdy-looking metal hulls of a dozen different ships. As they got close, the sheer scale of the other vessels became clear, each one larger than New Canterlot and thicker around too.

Escape seemed to be thinking the same thing she was, because she tensed visibly, settling back into her seat and gripping the handles with both hands. "You think Harmony can still get us if we die in space? We're pretty close to Equus still, yeah?"

"We can," answered a voice, speaking smoothly through the ship's speakers. It spoke with purpose, not even needing to raise its voice despite the apparent maelstrom of activity outside. Their shuttle was almost silent in its flight, other than the quiet hum of an air-recycler. "In terms of preservation of immutability, your intangibles have been... You will be traveling aboard a ship of this fleet, just as you were when the Alcyone first left this system. Additional measures have been taken, and significantly more security is in place, but no fundamental difference in approach exists. We cannot allow you to be lost. We cannot allow any of these new soldiers to be lost. All uniqueness will be circumscribed within Harmony. All thinking minds will have place."

And somehow we're going to save the universe.

"At least it's not anything new." Escape closed her eyes, gripping the hand rests with her other arms as well. There were two sets, maybe for just that purpose. "Since when are you just listening to me, anyway? I didn't think you answered prayers."

"You are a citizen of Equus," Harmony answered. Its many overlapping voices might fill the shuttle, but still it sounded almost humble. Felicity didn't buy the act of it serving the citizens rather than the other way around, but at least Harmony was sincerely putting on the act. "We will hear any requests made. We hear every thought, but generally do not respond to non-requests. Speak, and we will hear."

"That's not creepy at all." Escape turned, meeting her eyes. "Felicity, how do you stand this? Did it drive you crazy to have this pressure on you all the time? To never be alone?"

She shrugged. "I... never really imagined I was alone. Forerunner was there my whole life, and Harmony wasn't really much of a step further. Of course the AI is watching, how would it know when to open the doors, or what groceries to deliver?"

"We are not an AI," Harmony added helpfully. "But the generality is accurate enough for simple explanation."

Finally a single ship among many didn't seem to be moving away. Instead it froze laterally in the sky, as though waiting to receive them. Rather, their relative momentums became synchronized, and an opening barely wide enough to see from a distance appeared overhead. "We're not slowing down fast enough," Escape said, rising from her chair. "Great Queens, we're dead. I just got this body and it's wasted for no reason." She backed towards the rear of the shuttle. But it was so small it didn't even have a latrine, much less anywhere for her to hide.

For a few more seconds they blasted straight ahead towards the stationary ship, and it seemed as though they really might not slow down. Then light enfolded them, and at once the entire body of the shuttle became opaque. Felicity's stomach turned over as she was crushed down instead of forward, by a deceleration strong enough to take the bottom out of her chest. She wobbled for a few seconds more, then spread her wings wide. It was a completely useless gesture, since despite what her brain was telling her should be the case, she was being pressed down into her seat.

Then the moment passed, and she finally came to a stop. The little shuttle jostled, metal echoing as something gripped them firmly from above. The shuttle rattled once, then finally fell still. Then the rear of the craft opened, not so much a door as the ship was a giant origami unfolding, with only the few mechanical parts at the top and a curve of maybe-glass at the front to hold the floor.

They were in a shipyard of some kind, with dozens more little ships overhead, folded away neatly. A pair of marines waited for them on a nearby ramp, with the combination of stripes and colors that Felicity now recognized meant they were both officers. Not the captain though, she knew Atilla's specific clan markings by now. "If you'll come with us, we don't have much time to bring you to the inertial isolation chamber. Well, mostly her, cousin. Minutes remain until acceleration."

They turned, and Felicity's eyes widened with worry. "Wait, we're leaving in minutes? Shouldn’t there be all kinds of ritual, and ceremony, and promising revenge to Equestria for the pain we've suffered, and everything? Why are we rushing this now?"

She hurried to keep up. Really, she could only imagine how it would feel to be crushed to death by gravitational acceleration. Her legs were still a little wobbly from the shuttle flight, how much worse could it be on a capital ship?

"Ceremony is a luxury for victory," answered the lower of the two officers. Probably a male, though the two were very difficult to tell apart. The Varch’nai had basically no sexual dimorphism. "You will not be required to fight in this campaign, remember. The captain has invited you aboard as advisors and witnesses of vengeance. Our brave soldiers will be engaging the enemy."

Why do I not believe that? They didn't have far to go, despite their escort's urgency. A single hallway away was a strange, spherical chamber, one that didn't seem to actually be touching any of the surrounding ship. It hovered in the air, held in place by glowing coils. Even so, the doorway was nearly in line with the open airlock door.

"Be advised that the distortion of time and space are synchronized. Only moments will pass within this chamber, and we will arrive." One of the marines crossed, and their whole body became strangely reddish.

Here we go. Felicity crossed the threshold, and with it the fleet crossed into eternity.

It was time for their vengeance.