//------------------------------// // Chapter 4: Infested // Story: Frames of War // by Starscribe //------------------------------// “Excuse us?” The voice was so timid that Catlin almost missed it. One of the ponies, approaching her from the little camp.  They’d barely made it a hundred steps from the side of the derelict before they reached it, a clustered supply depot of a half dozen tents and crude wooden sheds. The camp strengthened her comparison between these aliens and the Ostrons of Cetus, with their reliance on ancient techniques for survival. They had once burned an actual fire here, with cookpots and everything. Catlin should probably have moved on by now, leaving these aliens to their fate to continue her search for a way to call home. I just don’t want to leave them alone. They’re too cute. Assuming that was even her emotion, and not something pressed into her by her frame. So she had found herself a large rock and perched atop it, while the group tended to their injured member.  The one called Deep Silver now had one of his legs wrapped tightly in cloth, with simple crutches to spread the weight of every individual step. So that was another way ponies were like the Ostrons—lacking technology, but not intelligence. It couldn’t have taken them more than twenty minutes to care for their sick member. “Whatever you are, whoever you are… we’re going to go. The rest of the expedition is a few hours from here, then it’s another day’s walk back to Canterlot after that. We don’t know what you were planning.” Don’t leave me. She rose to her hooves then, tilting forward just slightly so she slid off the edge, rolling once in the air before landing beside him. The pony jumped, recoiling from her in surprise—but he didn’t run. “Oh. I guess they’re coming?” She nodded, and that seemed to work. He turned, galloping back to join the others. Catlin almost copied him, but the stance was still a little awkward. She could roll and jump and vault through a Grineer factory with the best of them, but she didn’t want to embarrass herself and trip in front of these aliens. She could practice next time she was alone. “I do not know what we can properly offer you,” said Deep Silver, wobbling a little as she approached. “Whatever you are. A member of our expedition was lost inside this ruin. As painful as it is, it does not seem likely she could survive. One of the princesses will have to come back for her.” Catlin didn’t react. She wasn’t sure what any of that meant, even if the accent was as perfect as any Orokin instruction program. What a strange mixture of cultures and bodies these ponies were. Maybe even stranger than the Tenno. I think I know what happened to your missing member. Even as she thought it, she felt a sudden swell of confidence—the frame itself, wanting desperately for her to make that reality known. It wanted her to shout.  I don’t have a mouth. If you want to talk to them, help me! While Catlin dealt with her fracturing psyche, the ponies had gotten bored of sitting still, and started marching together. She took only a few steps to keep pace with them, weapon close. It was a good thing the path back out should be clear, because she only had a few magazines left. The cavern was among the most remarkable things Catlin had ever seen. It was rock crystal as much as stone, spectacular geodes and refracting walls bigger than whole buildings. Wide passages took them between formations that would’ve been worth more than whole starships on the Corpus exchange. They followed a thin cord through the maze of intricate passages, which soon reached such complexity that Catlin had trouble remembering the way back. It was a good thing warframes could hold maps. I wonder how deep underground we are. Might be hard to melt that ship if it’s too deeply buried. There was always a big enough bomb, but if they used one, what would happen to these beautiful caverns? Her escorts carried no torches or flashlights, but used their natural glow to light the way. She didn’t do the same, moving just behind their advancing shadows. They would probably notice anything that came at them from the front, but that wasn’t what frightened Catlin. That ship is heavily infested. What if it has other exits? The Infestation didn’t just give up. It would find them, track them all the way back to civilization. I need to reach a Weave terminal before that happens. Even if Ordis can’t help me, people need to know. She couldn’t just run away and leave these pony creatures to be massacred. “Stranger, pony… what do we call you, anyway?” asked one of the aliens. Dust Brush, her name was. “The princess will want to know what we found. Or who. What do we tell her?” She summoned her own little light. None of them had quite the same color, though she couldn’t yet figure out what the differences were or why. “It can’t answer you,” said Alidade. “Don’t ask it questions, you’ll just annoy it.” “I’m not entirely certain that’s the case.” Silver hobbled at the back, setting a glacial pace for them to follow. “This is no simple golem set to guard the tomb. It would not have responded to our danger. Classically speaking, it would have attempted to frighten us away. Instead, it helped us escape.” Golem. She’d heard that word once before, out of the mouth of an Orokin traitor. Maybe this isn’t a Corpus experiment after all? Maybe she’d stumbled into a station of exquisite age and purity, preserving the strange fancies of the ancient Orokin long after their demise. “So how do we talk to a pony who can’t talk?” Dust Brush asked. Still feeling scholarly, despite nearly being eaten by the Infestation only an hour earlier. Catlin found herself admiring her already. “Dance, maybe?” Catlin laughed inwardly. She could dance about as well as any Tenno, which was to say not particularly well. But there weren’t any moves she could manage on four legs. “No, it wrote. That was a writing system, somehow. Shame we lost the notebook…” Deep Silver stumbled ahead, nearly tripping on the uneven rock. The caverns were beautiful, but they also sloped upward, a never-ending climb that was clearly wearing her companions down. “If that is true, it is more reason to reach the princess swiftly. I know of no other pony or other being with a greater understanding of ancient languages. She has lived through many, after all.” Yes, that was probably the key. A princess might very well be the one to translate for her—or maybe she would be related to the Grineer queens somehow, and it would turn into another struggle for survival. They didn’t move quickly, not with one of their number so heavily injured. Despite the temptation to carry the little horse again, Catlin resisted. Even though they looked like animals, these creatures moved like any human might. Silver wouldn’t appreciate being carried. As it turned out, no attack came from behind. She wasn’t sure how long it took—maybe an hour, maybe two—but the ones leading her slowed at once, gasping and pointing. She slid up between them, following their gaze. A nearby crystal was entirely overgrown, covered with a red-brown sludge that crept organically over the rock nearby. A faint pulse of red came from within, incredibly dim. “What is it?” Alidade asked. “Like the ruin,” Silver said. “Out here? This path was clear.” Catlin lifted the rifle beside her, clicking the safety off in a diffuse glow. She nudged around the ponies, letting her horn light the way ahead of her. The Infestation didn’t cover every surface as it had on the derelict, but it did coat the floor and walls in scabby patches. It followed the line they’d been following. Maybe it had scented more prey, or just followed the cable. Either way… “Guardian—you know this enemy, don’t you?” Deep Silver’s voice was harsh, commanding. A leader, despite his pain. She nodded once, just as confident. “Will it still be dangerous outside the ruin? Can it escape?” She nodded again. The ponies huddled closer, looking outward into the darkness all around them. “What do we do, Silver?”  “Did we let it out?” “No,” he answered. “It appears Ruby may have. But we will not waste time with guilt. Guardian, will these creatures hurt ponies? Will they kill?” She answered the same way she had. But now something distracted her—motion from further in the cavern. After walking for some time through narrow passages, it was finally opening on somewhere bigger. There was light around the corner, the flickering orange of a fire. She approached slowly, hoping she would see nothing of interest. Just an alien camp, filled with hardworking ponies. Instead, the infestation was already here. Tendrils of alien flesh spanned the space between tents and other temporary buildings. Larger fronds drifted in no wind, coating a formation of nearly clear quartz bigger than a man until it was cloudy and infected. The others were not far behind, even limping Deep Silver. She waited, remaining as close to these creatures as she could.  “This is bad,” Dust declared unhelpfully. “Where is everypony?” “Got away,” Silver said. “They don’t need a mythical guardian to warn them of danger here. They fled.” Not all of them. The Infestation can’t make flesh from nothing. She slowed her steps over the strange substrate. Her frame was immune, but soon enough this infection would begin to spore. In an enclosed space, these unprotected ponies would inhale them without resistance. Catlin no longer sensed that other presence watching her, urging her. But she needed no resistance from the frame to urge her to keep fighting for these creatures. Maybe if she got out of this alive, their princess would have some old designs for an ancient frame lying around, or at least a few potatoes. Whatever came before them hadn’t come so suddenly it killed all it touched. Beside the campfire the remnants of a meal were still set, plates and pitcher scattered. Possessions spread on the cave floor, all trailing in a single direction. Away from the path they’d taken, away from the infestation. But not everything moved away. A nearby tent toppled over, and something shambled towards them.  Even having never seen the infestation take this particular turn before, Catlin knew what this must be. Four legs, like the infested Grineer. But that breed was one as practiced as the endlessly repeated gene-molds, one she’d seen over and over. This was an abortive effort, the first struggling of the Infestation to reach into an essence it had not before corrupted. It was corrupted now. Flesh trailed from the bones, hardened into a ridge of chitinous plates that protruded from what had once been a head. It had no eyes anymore, and a horn that extended almost as long as its body. “Stars above,” Alidade whispered, freezing in place. “What is that?” “Who,” Silver corrected. The rotting pony had no eyes to see into, only glowing blue spots visible between plates. Yet it had a mouth, dripping with black fluid and ringed with sharp teeth. A scream bubbled out between those teeth, agonized and terrible. Catlin could almost hear the suffering of the dead pony there, raging against their pain. Could they even think enough to hurt? She hoped not. Catlin stepped forward, taking careful aim with the Burston. She couldn’t waste a single bullet, not when they were in such short supply. “Wait, don’t!” Dust Brush yelled, suddenly intent. “We have to bring them back with us! Celestia will fix this.” She couldn’t argue—but she didn’t get the chance to try. A flash of brilliant blue light rose from the infected creature, tearing up whole sections of the cave floor. It lifted her right along with it, flinging her away like a doll.