//------------------------------// // 3: Sword Fall // Story: Salvage a Better Life // by law abiding pony //------------------------------// Drifting above the middle of the inner asteroid belt sat a lone two-seat fighter. It was sizable at roughly a hundred feet long and it’s hard points brought it’s beam to sixty feet. Multiple small cuts existed on its hull, save for the painted symbol of the Initiative. The white, purple, and pink busts of three mares remained crisp and vibrant.  Winter Gale yawned tiredly as her duty shift dragged on. Even the heavy base music wasn’t enough to keep the thestral’s eyes wide open. So she resorted to sucking down a coffee packet and crumbless crackers. The navy had invested much into her, as it did for all pilots. She looked natural, save for fine contours and patches of fur that were artificial if one knew where to look. All told, half of her body was synthetic.  Her earth pony copilot was humming a sea shanty commonly sung on the Rainbow Dash as he continued to observe dozens of sensors and readings. The fighter was a nexus for a multitude of surveillance probes keeping an eye out for any sign of pirate activity. So far, the last twenty hours proved to be mind numbingly boring, as were the last three weeks.   “I’m telling you, Jerrycan, we scared the Cennies from coming back this way for at least another two months. We should be stationed around Ganymede.”  Winter’s out of the blue comment compelled her copilot to cut the music and replay her words so he could understand it.  “Oh quit whining and use the downtime to do a hobby.”  Though his words were biting, his tone was nonchalant.  Fussing in her seat, Winter chewed on her straw for a bit. “Unlike your lazy tail, my hobbies can’t be done in the cockpit.” Jerrycan opened a small compartment next to the controls to reveal a bag of mixed fruits and nuts courtesy of the colony.  He downed a few and used his cybercomm to talk. “Just means I’ll be free to listen to the news.  Did you know there was a parasite scandal with the pig farms?” Rolling her eyes, Winter shoved the empty coffee pouch into a built-in disposal chute. She slouched in her seat as much as it allowed. “Oh no, pig parasites on a xeno world, who would have guessed.  I’d rather shoot something, not waste brain cells on this. Just avoid pork chops for a few months until everything is cleaned up.” Jerrycan was quiet for a few moments before speaking again in his casual manner. “See that’s the difference between you and me. I can ‘shoot’ all I want on the forums. You gotta follow engagement rules,” he ended with a smug tone. “Did you know that I started the rumor that the Slit Neck pirates are actually led by a Breezie?”  Winter craned her neck to look at the cackling stallion. “It got so bad, some of the actual pirates outed themselves to deny it!” “Pretty sure I’m the one who gave you that idea.  You just hijacked it after it wasn’t funny anymore.” Shrugging helplessly, Jerrycan mentally brushed his newsfeeds away to focus on her. “Oh believe me, it’s still funny.  Just imagine a murderous Breezie with three toothpick legs yelling blood and murder from a birdcage of a captain’s chair.” His deep laughter was infectious, causing Winter’s lips to twitch up, which only annoyed her. “How can I not?  You still have that as your avatar in Spacers. Seriously, Jerry, you need to know when to hold back, let ponies calm down and recharge. Life has a way of delivering the jokes right to you.” “Are you trying to get philosophical on me, Winter?” “Ha!  The only deep thoughts you’re capable of is how you’re going to find the next tail.” “It’s worked for me so far.”  Jerrycan grabbed a smoker pen and took a long drag, and spoke while exhaling, and blew a cloud that could vaguely resemble a ring. The smoke was rapidly drawn away by the vents, clearing the air before the smell could reach Winter. “Speaking of tail. If things don’t work out with Live Wire-” Before he could get another word out, Winter jerked the controls into a spin. The dampeners kicked in, so Jerrycan was only jostled, but it was enough of a suprise to make him choke on his smoke.  Blinking tears, Jerrycan coughed and hacked for close to a minute. The stupid grin he wore never left. “Don’t know how that Live Wire guy can handle you. Must be because all your visits are in ghost-space.” Getting a bit defensive, Winter Gale huffed. “I’ve met him in meatspace. Wire’s real.” “If you say so.”  Jerrycan tilted his head as new jabs crept into his mind. “Personally I think that-” Jerrycan stopped short as something on his screens caught his eye. He replayed the event a few times, and took a second quiet drag of his pen.  The sudden silence worried Winter and she grew tense.  She studied her own scopes for threats, wary that no alarms sounded. “What is it?” “Thought I caught a drive burn in sector J12. But it could have been anything.” Fretful excitement spurred Winter Gale’s curiosity as she brought the feed up on her own displays. “J12… That’s outside of our duty area. How did you even see anything through Sword Fall?” Sword Fall was a sizable ship graveyard.  A swath of space that began below the inner asteroid belt, but time and gravity had dragged it partially into the belt itself. Winter’s map revealed the graveyard sat in between the probe and the heat signature. Jerrycan’s delayed reply prompted Winter to continue. “Could have been some antimatter slipping containment that was actually much closer.” Slowly wagging his head back and forth, Jerrycan internally debated the idea. “Could be. I’ll flag it and see if something pops up again.” With nothing else of note, Winter Gale settled back into her seat to contemplate the latest show she was watching. That is until a niggling thought kept bothering her. I told Live Wire about the mines right?  Yeah, I know I did. Her eye moved back to the thermal blip. He’s not dumb enough to risk it. Yeah, they’re fine. Stop worrying about it.  Wiggly Sprocket felt the lurch as Wire cut the travel drive. Wire darkened the engines and started slowing using the maneuvering thrusters to cut their speed according to Wiggly’s plan. A buoy blinked in the distance with a repeating warning about the mines filled the radio. “Are you sure this is going to work?” Sprocket was neck deep into the guts of the central power distributor.  Being largely immune to the electrical discharges of her work, the pegacorn knew her plan had to be precise and it was taking longer than she thought. Not that she wanted to tell that to her brother. He’s already an inch from turning around and forgetting the whole plan. “Wiggly, if you actually die from a shock I’ll find a way to reverse haunt you.” The comment made her grit her teeth with the time crunch approaching. “As if that can actually happen.  Don’t worry about it. We just need to match the mines’ frequency and we’ll be good.”  A large arc of electricity ran from the wiring and across her belly. The shock that would kill most other tribes only caused her to squirm and wiggle as if she was being tickled. Yet at the same time, the burning jumpsuit only made it more distracting. Wire’s voice over the radio grew more desperate. “Wiggs, radar’s picking up the mines.” The news forced her to ignore the light burn on her chest and stomach to focus on her efforts.  “Good, what LiDAR frequency are we getting from the closest one?”  Her scanner was linked into multiple wires and it was awaiting input. A panicky “uhh” precipitated a number appearing on Wiggly’s scanner. “Please hurry!” Wiggly studied the reading and quickly made the corrections to her work. “Aaannddd…” “Wiggs,” her brother called with a crescendo of fear. Multiple mines were lighting up, and his virtual hoof was hovering over the reverse command. “Are we good or not?!” Sweating from the heat and stress, Wiggly was having difficulty getting the frequency just right as it was something her scanner wasn’t made for.  “Just a second!” The freighter shook violently, shoving Live Wire into the wall. Wiggly cried out and was slammed into the nest of wires. Two mines grabbed onto the freighter with tractor beams and started pulling themselves towards the interloper. Frozen by fear, Wire saw the hull buckle from the force of the tractor beams. “I’m getting us out of here!”  Before he could reactivate the engines, the tractor beams proved too strong for the hull plating and large chunks were ripped off the side. The two mines collided with the pieces and detonated in a blinding flash. The force of the removal threw him into the wall again, nearly pulling the control cable out of him.   Sprocket pressed the command into her scanner. “There!” The closest mines winked off.  The next ones that were about to grab the freighter stopped short. Then much to Wire’s astonishment, the midnight sea was dark once more. Wire went limp as terror slowly bled out of him. “What did you do, again?” Wiggly sagged in relief, letting the gentle acceleration press her into the struts nearby.  Not yet fully comprehending how much damage was done. She was more euphoric than her brother. “The mines don’t use radio signals for identification, only laser light.  Since the distribution hub is one of the few places we still have a working cogitator, I turned our running lights into an IFF return.  When we were given mines, the navy let it slip they came from multiple graveyards, and after a little sniffing around I found out they all had the same IFF return.  So long as you don’t mess with the power output of the refrigerator and sewage processor, or use the travel drive, we should look like just another mine to the network.” Wire couldn’t speak as he eyed a mine as they coasted by it. The fact that they were being ignored still wasn’t sitting right. “Wiggly, you’re going to get us killed one day.” “Don’t worry so much, I got us here, didn’t I?”  Sprocket pushed herself away from the hub only to finally see the large charred gash in her blue jumpsuit.  “Awww come on, this was my favorite jumper!”  Scowling as she disrobed, she kept one eye on the screen she had dragged herself over to look outside the freighter. “Quite the viper’s nest.  She stopped short after finally seeing the damage alert on a wall screen. She let out a shell shocked whistle. “By Luna’s stars. If it had grabbed us just three feet or to the right it would have ripped the port engine off.”  Cringing with a cold sweat, Wiggly huddled around the screen to give commands to shut off various pipes and withdraw whatever atmosphere was left in adjacent rooms that had poor seals.  Fully assessing the damage would have to be done from the outside.  Still trying to calm his racing heart, Live Wire didn’t want to look at the damage reports flashing in the corner of his eye. “How bad is it?” “The cargo bay has two new windows in them.  If my math is right… you want the good news or the bad news?” “Go ahead and traumatize me further with the bad news.” Rattling from the bulkhead was starting to get worryingly bad.  “I would cut the thrusters. We’ll shake apart if you don’t stop soon.” “Oh lovely.  So we’re stuck drifting along until we crash into something?” “Psh, no. I can patch us up enough with a little time and the spare pieces I kept from the shuttle. Give me a few hours and I’ll have us stable enough to move.”  She was already pulling herself to the airlock where she kept her pressure suit. “As for the travel drive… well, like I said, the mines wouldn’t be happy if we used it so that’s kinda moot.”   He opted to not ask too many questions. If I do, I’d probably freak out at how flimsy our disguise is or how truly bad the damage is. The ignored damage alerts still blinked in the corner of his eye. Trusting Wiggly to have the issue under control, he squelched the alerts. Taking several minutes to calm down, he found something close to peace before speaking up. “Well you got us here. Where to first?” Still sore about losing her clothes and at being too slow with the minefield, Wiggly was in the middle of donning her suit. “Look for the biggest ship you can find. A pony one preferably. The Navy will thank us for returning any idents we find. Plus I can find all sorts of things in a cruiser.” “Sure.”  Wire exhaled the last of the stress he could rid himself of.  He pulled himself together and studied the sensor returns. Finding potential targets was hardly a challenge. The differences between Initiative and Centauri warships were stark even to his untrained eye. Pony ships were warships first and works of art second. Gentle curves and smooth lines were a staple. Oftentimes, sensor protrusions, shield emitters, and ablative armor sat on ribbons that ran a meter or so off the hull. Centauri warships were much lighter on armor for maneuverability, and were sleek and highly polished for energy weapon deflection.  The ribbons made Wire’s job easy and he guided the freighter on a new course.   Using only maneuvering thrusters to move along, it took them nearly a week to fully enter the graveyard.  What laid before him was a truly vast cloud of Centuari wreckage encompassing a pony flotilla. Hundreds of shattered strikecraft, a handful of ruined Initiative destroyers and two cruisers flanked the broken remains of a fleet carrier.  Wire was left in awe of the sheer devastation.   “Of all the graveyards we could have gone to, we ended up here.  You want me to put you near the biggest hull breach?” Wiggly wolfed her lunch down and shook herself to loosen up before heading to the suit locker. “Nah, see if you can find escape pods that didn’t launch. If the pod is there, then an actual proper space suit should be close by.” The idea worried Live Wire, but not exactly for his sister’s safety. I hope she can handle what she’ll find. Wire slowed their approach as he made the final approach to their quarry, the original flagship of Phoenix Fleet, The Sword of the Stars. The once majestic vessel stretched for just under two kilometers long and had lasted long after its escorts had been sundered. The mighty vessel had to be stripped of all strike craft, and blasted into four pieces before its guns had fallen silent. Such was pony redundancy and damage control that the Centauri were forced to batter the engineering section into two pieces before it was over.  Sitting in between all four pieces was a pair of modified tractor mines designed more to keep the graveyard intact as opposed to destroying unwelcome guests.   Wire brought the freighter to a stop next to a hole that was large enough to fly into. He visually scanned the hull, trying to decipher between impact craters and missing escape pods. Thankfully escape pods were pretty uniform among the civilian and military fleets, so he knew what to look for. “There we are.” He sent a highlighted image to his sister where one escape pod was still in place next to an empty socket. She was running final checks on her pressure suit when she spotted it on a screen. “Perfect, bring us as close as you can.” Wire hesitated for a bit as his eyes drank in the sheer immensity of the Sword of the Stars. “…Wiggly, should we really be doing this?  It’s the flagship of all things. The prince died here. Maybe we should let the Navy take this when they have a chance.” Sprocket stood at the airlock and watched her chosen entry point grow closer. Gone was her excitement to repair her home. She tried to keep herself in good cheer, recalling happy memories between herself and Wire. Yet her efforts came crashing down when the freighter passed by a defense turret and the barrel moved directly in front of her view. Her mind shot back to that day her world died. Alarms, fire, the hurricane of the drum’s atmosphere escaping. Sprocket began hyperventilating as the images came faster now. She cradled her head with both wings, trying in vain to banish the waking nightmare.  In her mind she felt her father throwing her into the life pod. She banged on the glass, watching with fresh tears as fires engulfed him. Her smaller body was thrown around the tight pod. When it stopped, she rushed back to the window, praying to see her father standing there safe and sound. What was waiting for her was a crippled Centauri fighter. She could still see the pilot’s snarling helmet.  The central railgun locked onto her, a final act of defiance before his death. Lightning arced between the rails and her world slowed to a crawl.  Wiggly couldn’t escape the nightmare, not even Wire’s worried calls could break the spell.  She could hear it now. The frightful music that all centauri infected pony systems with during an attack. The drums and chanting could not drown out Wiggly’s heart beating in her ears as the railgun charged to fire. She couldn’t look away, not then and not now.  In twin ribbons of fire, the Centuari was torn apart before her eyes, the railgun was jerked aside as it lit off. Though it was barely a scant second, Wiggly could see her savior fly past her: an Initiative interceptor.  And like that, the spell was over. Wiggly dropped to her belly as tears streamed down her face and terror gripped her heart. She pulled herself away from the window trying to banish the waking nightmare.  Her brother was frantic on the radio. “Breathe, Wiggly, slow and steady.”  He dearly wished he could hold her, but distance robbed him of that.  Wire repeated his advice, over and over with care. Wiggly squeezed her eyes shut to focus on where she was. “I’m fine, I’m okay. I’m fine, I’m okay.”  With each breath and words of encouragement from Wire, Wiggly’s heart slowed down bit by bit.  The tears ran out, and her breathing sluggishly returned to normal. Wiggly yanked her helmet off and threw it aside in order to rub her head, partially to dry her fur and partially to stretch her face. “I’m good, Wire.”  She shakily climbed to her hooves, and looked around to where she dropped her helmet.  “Are you sure?  We can wait a while and get some rest.” Shaking herself, Wiggly donned her helmet and sealed it. “I can, but you can’t. Not so long as you’re the brain of the ship. I just - I just need to… Be ready this time.”  Working on instinct, Wiggly attached the umbilical cable to her suit and psyched herself up. “I can take a break when you can.” “Just be careful out there.” Taking one last deep breath, Wiggly slapped the cycle button. She hefted her tools and a single power pack. The door yawned open and the looming capital ship awaited her.  Spreading her wings, Sprocket sped towards her destination. Wire had placed them quite close to the Sword’s airlock.  With the power out, Sprocket pulled the power pack off and placed it near the airlock controls. A few button presses later, and the controls blinked on. She hit the manual override button which triggered a security alert. It was a common security measure, and she knew it would release the lock once the absent security manager did not reply.  Sure enough, the hoof crank pushed out right on time. Using her wings to offer resistance, she cranked the doors wide open until they locked into place. Retrieving her power pack, she repeated the maneuver for the inner door.  With a final clank, and sweat dripping off the mane plastered on her face, Wiggly got her first look inside. Two suited corpses drifted in the hallway. Litter and loose bits of debris floated around as well. Moving fully inside, the once clean white and silver hallway was dark and foreboding. Destroyed panels and the ruined ceiling were crammed with twisted metal and loosely hanging pipes. Not even the emergency lights were active anymore.  “Wire, do you know where the ident tags are?”  She gingerly approached the closest body. The chill of the void and the hull protecting it from solar winds left the body well preserved.  Watching it all from a camera mounted on Sprocket’s helmet, Wire was able to change her HUD and mark things. “Winter said all sailors are implanted with one between the skull and back of the neck on the left side. It should have extended out after death for easy grabbing.” Wiggly checked the red sailor’s suit and found a pulley tether. Dragging it along, she fastened the body to a wall conveyor before doing the same to the other. Pulling back to look at both of them, Wiggly bowed her head. “May Terra grant you a life of peace and harmony.” Wire parroted the short prayer before Wiggly went about removing the helmets and locating the idents. The dead faces, frozen by the void, were deeply unsettling. Worried more unwanted memories could surface at any moment, she hastily pocketed both idents before haphazardly replacing the helmets so she couldn’t see them.  Resolving to find a proper bag to store any more idents, she hastily bid a retreat.  As much as Sprocket wanted a proper space suit, she was not about to take one off a corpse. What she could take however, was the empty oxygen canister off one of them.  Turning around, she grabbed her oxygen tether and found a second socket.  She plugged the tank in to refill it. Glad they standardized a lot of this sort of thing.  Pulling more slack for her oxygen tether, Wiggly floated towards the closest remaining escape pod. Upon arriving, she found that it had been punctured, and unsuited crew members had suffocated.  Sitting in between the entryways of two pods, sat an unexpected prize: a suit printer. Provided the sign beside it was accurate. “Oh I’ve heard of these things!  They can make suits to fit the individual.”  Taking her power pack and placing it next to the controls, Wiggly waited for the printer to boot up. After a few minutes of growing concern that the printer had been damaged, a friendly looking touch interface finally appeared close by.  ‘Enter ident’ the readout requested. Sprocket gazed at the two in her hoof and typed in the number from one of them.  ‘Denied. Ensign Cloudy Vision already has a suit checked out from this station. Please return the original suit to the depositor or requisition a new one. Would you like to requisition one? Wiggly hit the green button.  Error. Account is unavailable. Please contact administration to rectify the issue.  “Maybe use an ident from somepony who doesn’t have a suit yet?” Wire offered.  “Could work.” Looking back into the pod where a few ponies drifted, Wiggly spotted a mare who only had her uniform on. She went about claiming each pony’s ident before using the mare’s on the printer.  Ensign Apple Pie. Suit requisition approved. Error.  Dimensions are inaccessible.  Utilizing alternative measures.  Please stand back and flare wings if you have them.  Wiggly obeyed and a scanning beam shot out and took her measurements from under the pressure suit. Sprocket waited while behind the panel, a standard earth pony suit was modified to accommodate her horn and wings. The power pack was drained considerably, and the printer began to slow towards the end, but the suit was presented to Wiggly before it died on her.  Claiming the suit, Sprocket admired the quality. Small red armor segments on her chest and flank would project a short lived energy shield, while the black mesh everywhere else was stronger by far to her civilian pressure suit. The silver and red helmet contoured tightly to her face. The single gold stripe with accompanying gold star signified the ensign rank. There was no oxygen tank, so Sprocket clipped the one she found into place. There was only one problem that Wire picked up on first. “That kind of suit is top notch, probably don’t need the shield out here, but the mesh will at least need power to remain flexible.” “If you don’t think we’ll need the shield, you clearly haven’t paid attention to how dangerous being a cutter can be. Still though, it’s not like I can put it on over here anyway. I’ll come back over and charge it there.” After a quick snack and bottle of water, Sprocket returned to the Sword with her new suit. The lack of an umbilical cord was a welcome freedom. “So what should I look for next?” “Check the wall screens for a map. We need pretty much everything. Food, water, fuel, parts, and salvage.  A new hull,” he added with a sour tone. “I got us here mostly safe and sound didn’t I?”  Ignoring her brother’s fuming, Wiggly looked about. “You think I might find some good clothes or jewelry?”  Wiggly found a panel and pressed her newly recharged power pack onto it. “I’ve been looking to get some ear studs for years now.” “What good would that do?” Wire asked with brotherly mirth. “You’re so ugly the jewelry would rust off of you after an hour.” “You’re just jealous I’m the pretty one between us.”  The panel was badly cracked by a wedge of steel jammed into the left side, but it winked on after a few seconds of power. It wasn’t hard to find the map option.  Error. Internal sensors are unresponsive. Presenting last known readings.  Huge sections of the amber map turned red with warning symbols blanketing everything. There was a somber moment for Sprocket. The Sword was so large, she couldn’t see just how deeply broken it was. Yet here in this dispassionate map she saw it all.  She traced a hoof across the screen. If it wasn’t for the Sword, Trireme wouldn’t have survived. “You did all you could. Rest In peace, honorable one.” On his end, Live Wire bit his hoof, desperately wishing he could be at his sister’s side to lend her a shoulder. “Wish we could do more.” Wiggly’s thoughts drifted to the idents she had collected thus far. “Yeah, but we can lend a hoof.” Clearing her thoughts, Wiggly refocused on the map. She looked for cabins, cargo bays, machine shops… “mess hall!” It wasn’t too far.  Only three decks down and was listed as intact before all power had been lost. The Sword fell back when we still had contact with the wider Initiative. That means real food!  The very thought of having actual food that she could crunch without it being some kind of cracker or bar banished much of the malaise caused by rooting around the dead. “Oh wow, if you can find some kind of real meat the whole trip will pay for itself.”  Wire’s stomach grumbled, but Wiggly’s did so enough to travel through the radio.  “How are you always hungry?” “Mare’s gotta eat too. You may be the pilot, but I’m doing all the physical work.” “Sure, sure.  Anyway I got the map recorded in my internal storage.  I’ll update your HUD as you go.  Just - ah - don’t try to grab the whole kitchen.  Our fuel situation is only marginally better than our food stocks.” “Right.  I better get going then.” The path to the mess hall was a grim and dark affair that took the better part of three hours to navigate the ruined hallways.  With her new suit’s excellent vision however, even her meager flashlight was enough to maneuver around floating debris, collapsed bulkheads, and the ever present dead.  It was the latter that gave her a sense of higher purpose beyond finding void frozen food.  Every ident she gathered along her path was given a moment of silence. Honoring the dead gave her solace in her journey, and made facing them easier.  It was something Wire was just as glad to assist with by offering a short prayer alongside her.  Her entry into the mess hall was through a six meter sized hole.  Tables and benches were normally mounted to the floor, but the battle had knocked a plethora of them loose in the chamber which could have served several hundred crew members at once.  Projectors on the ceiling used tractor beams to push down on both ponies and food alike to simulate gravity, giving the diners an easier time to eat.  Now though, it was a pitch black room, with only her lonely flashlight offering any sign of life.  The stillness of it all gave Wiggly pause.  The mess hall reminded her of the months and years after the attack on Trireme.  An old gym had been repurposed to be a cafeteria and refugee camp.   “It looks like Hope Hall,” Wire chimed in, summoning more unwanted memories.  The stench of unwashed ponies huddled together in cramped spaces.  The echoes of sorrow of love and life lost from those around her.  The horn to tail pain from the injuries she suffered during the attack.  But not here.  The mess hall was utterly devoid of the dead.  The empty nexus of fellowship, shared meals, and happiness felt worse than if she had found at least a few crew members.  Idly, Sprocket raised her left booted hoof.  She could still remember seeing all of the shrapnel and scars the glancing railgun shot had given her as her pod was fractured.  Barring a lost limb, scars never touched her tribe for long, and she was no different.  She flexed the joints, scowling at how she could heal so completely, and yet her brother was left maimed. Wire didn’t care for Sprocket’s silence one bit.  He knew her well enough to realize what she was thinking. “Hey, I’m glad I got messed up.  I’d never have met Winter if I hadn’t qualified for subsidized cyberization.”  He made his voice sound closer to the mic and hot and bothered.  “The things you can do in a lobby with your marefriend, Oh momma.” Wiggly was instantly shaken out of her thoughts and uselessly covered her ears.  “Nooo, don’t say another word, not from you!” A devilish grin creeped over Wire’s muzzle as he imagined Wiggly’s red face.  “You feel everything you wanna feel in a lobby.  Every. Single. Touch.” Wiggly shook her hoof in the freighter’s general direction.  “So help me if you say another word I’ll make sure to find some pears and shove them in your face!” “Assuming you find any of those nasty things.  So stop moping and keep moving or I’ll project some of my favorite positions on your HUD.  And you need a jack or a pad to access your suit, so you can’t stop me. Hahahaha!” “Okay okay!”  Wiggly glanced about for the kitchen, and then flew towards it. “You’re evil, you know that.” “I’m your bro, it’s my job,” he replied with a matter-of-fact tone.  I am going to shove so many pears down your throat you’ll be tasting them for a week!  Begrudgingly reinvigorated, Wiggly slipped into the kitchen after pulling a thin metal door open.  The kitchen was largely free of clutter as it had the rare honor of avoiding direct damage.  “I guess the knives and whatnot were stored before the fight started.” “If you’re grabbing food, it might not be such a bad idea to grab cutlery and some kind of cooker.” Moving around, Wiggly investigated the area.  “I don’t think there’s going to be a mobile stove.” “That’s what the cutter’s for isn’t it?” Rolling her eyes, Wiggly firmly tapped her ears, hoping the thumping would irritate Live Wire.  “Okay, Clown, as soon as I get back there with the food, I’m looking for something that can take over the ship when you’re unplugged.  You want big stuff, you can help out.  You know what, I’m going to see what kind of food there is before I grab anything out of here.” It wasn’t difficult finding the freezer nor the dry storage.  Within was a treasure trove that left sparkles in her eyes.  Bags of fruits, ice busted cans of every food imaginable, real meat still on the bone, and vegetables that looked fresh off the vine, at least before the harsh freezer burn it all suffered. Giggling madly, Sprocket pocketed a little bit of everything she could stuff into her cargo net bags.  All while Wire pointed out one thing or another that would make for a great meal.  Wiggly ended up scrounging up several more tote bags from crew quarters and tying them into a train so she could drag that much more.  The two hours of effort left her famished, and Live Wire was no different.  By the time she was done, Wiggly carried triple her weight in food, and now had to do the slow crawl back to the freighter.  Thoughts of eating real food for more than just as a once-a-year treat clouded her thoughts as she shared ideas with Wire about what to eat first.   She was about to leave the mess hall when Wire pointed out, “you know we still have no way to prepare or even cook meat and stew back here, right? Still need that stove.” Scowling with all the force of an irate mare, Wiggly shook her hoof at her lazy brother.  “I am getting you a damned computer or something you lazy loaf!” Weeks passed on by as the siblings stuffed the freighter’s hold full of a variety of salvage.  Food, tools from a workshop and hangar bay, electronics ripped from tattered remains of the bridge and intact computer parts. Multiple bags full of idents, all organized by rank.  A pair of plasma carbines, enough pieces for a full kitchen, enough leftover air, fuel, and ice to refill the tanks twice over, and as many spare parts as they could carry out of the repair bays.  There was only one truly special piece of cargo, the recovered body of the admiral. Neither of them wanted to leave such a pony to remain here, as they could not honor him like they Navy could.  With the body carefully stored and draped in an Initiative flag, they continued their work.  Time was not a factor to them, as the supplies from the Sword could sustain them for years so long as they didn’t use the travel drive.  The crown jewels of their efforts were two turrets they cut off the Sword.  They were the smallest ones mounted on the mighty vessel, but were just right for the freighter.  Removing them at all wouldn’t have been feasible were it not for a lucky find in a machine shop.  Both siblings were sifting around the shop with multiple power packs restoring some light to the room. Unlike all of the other shops on the Sword this one at least still had two walls left, and the tool racks had only been partially destroyed.  Wiggly held a ruined wrench in her hoof, and gave a forlorn sigh at the miserable tool.  “Another ruined six inch. I’m never going to find a replacement.” She gently tossed it away so it would drift out of the room. Using a tried and true crowbar, Live Wire cracked open a drawer and pulled it open. What lay within was something, at least. “Hey, Wiggs, what do you make of this?” Lamenting at the next wrench having a broken tooth, Wiggly lazily floated over to her brother. Stopping herself by pressing against the rack, the device Wire hefted out of the drawer caused Wiggly to gasp. “Oh oh oh! Is that?!  Gimme gimme!” Ignorant of the value of his prize, Wire dutifully gave it over. Sprocket inspected the tool for damage. It was shaped much like her cutter. One held it like a rifle with a large battery pack taking up the butt of the tool. Four emitters arranged as a box were up front with struts securing them in place, yet the struts look mobile as if the emitters could be detached. Sure enough, even Wire could see a launching mechanism and an oversized magazine taking up the center.  Also, almost a dozen stickers covered the thing ranging from a picture of the Sword of the Stars itself to a mare blowing a kiss to the user.  Small dings and scraps of missing paint did not detract from its operation.  “Wire! Do you know what this is?!”  Sprocket was almost insulted by his unknowing shrug. “It’s a tether projector! This bad boy would go for seven hundred million on the open market before we were isolated. The yards don’t even let us use these unless a real warship was brought in. With this, I can move super heavy stuff without having to break my back.” “You mean like the turrets you’ve been eyeballing since we got here?” Wiggly liked to think she was getting better at looking down the barrel of a gun. She had been doing it off and on during the past few weeks to get herself under control. But if there was any improvement she couldn’t see it. “I wouldn’t call it ‘eye balling’ but yes.  I think what I really need is a gun or two I can point the other way.  Besides, those two are energy canons so we don’t need to worry about creating an armory.  Just need to make room for the capacitors.” “Sure, sure.  Say, if these tethers are that good, why not cut pieces of armor off and finish fixing the hull with something stronger than the tin foil and spit you’ve been using.” Hugging her new tool, Wiggly kissed it through her helmet.  A disturbed glare from Wire made her recollect herself.  “Look, don’t judge me.” “The armor?” He said, giving her an out.  “Right. Yeah, not happening. Do you know how heavy capital grade armor is?  The frame can’t take it. Not to mention my cutter can’t do a damn thing to it either. We’d need the good stuff that the yards only busted out for big projects.” Shrugging again, Wire shoved her out of the way so he could pry the next drawer open. “Well if not the Sword’s armor, what about the smaller ships?” With loving care, Wiggly locked her new tool onto her belt and went rooting around for more tethers. “A cruiser is off the table too. But a destroyer… yeah, I could carve up some armor pieces for the hull. It’d be slow work, but it can be done.” “We should get started tomorrow then.”  Grunting with heavy effort, Wire tore the lock off the drawer with the crowbar and opened it. “Ahh ha, I found the crew’s snack drawer.”  He pulled out a bag of tarts to show her. “Ooh!  Dibs on any gummy snakes!” Acting quickly, Wire discarded the snacks he was holding and snatched a bag of gummy snakes from the drawer and yanked it away from her grubby hooves. “No way, these things are too good for dibs.  Finders keepers.” “Oh that’s not fair!”  Wiggly lunged for the bag, only for Wire’s magic to be far more maneuverable than she could ever be. “Gimme that!” “No!” “Yes!” Another lunge failed to connect with the elusive bag.  “On one condition.”  Wire halted the bag’s retreat, allowing Sprocket to grab it. However, his magic had not surrendered the snacks just yet.  Deep suspicion marred her face. “What?” “You stop trying to put pears in my food.”  A defiant scowl crossed her face.  Wire tugged on the bag. “Careful or the bag might rip.” “Okay okay okay!  No more pears. Now lemme have it.” “Deal.”  He let go and Wiggly pressed the bag against her visor with the same eyes as a predator.  Drifting back over to the snack drawer, Wire quietly grabbed a party sized bag of gummy snakes and tossed it into his saddlebag with Sprocket none the wiser.  All too easy. With the tether projector in hoof, the siblings spent the better part of a month carving up the Reckless as it was the most intact of the destroyers. Neither of them wanted anything to do with Centauri salvage.  On the last day of work, Wiggly was exhausted. Her cutter was worn out, and complained about overheating.  She resolved to completely take it apart for a thorough repair, but the job was done. The last cut had been made.  With their freighter close by, Sprocket fired off four tethers between the freighter and the last segment of armor. Once there was enough clearance, she launched two more tethers onto the back of the armor and the hull she had just carved it out of. The tethers were twined anchors that projected a magical cable between them.  Linked with her suit, she controlled how strongly each tether pulled on the armor piece. There was a balancing act to be had, as the sundered destroyer was no longer massive enough to be practically immobile against the tethers.  Yet Wiggly controlled it well, and the piece was neatly socketed into place. Whew. Now I just need to weld it into place and boom!  We have a completely new hull. It was no exaggeration, as everything from the canopy to the engine struts were now encased in armor.  After a short break and a bag of dehydrated fruits, Sprocket went inside the freighter to weld the last piece.  It took effort to coax the cutter for this final hurdle, but it obliged her long enough to satisfy the job. Once done, she fell back and let herself drift about. Her legs were limp noodles and her visor was having difficulty keeping the sweat from misting over. “There. It’s done.  A proper shipwright would probably throw a fit, but I think it’s solid work.” She drifted for several minutes, taking a brief nap. She might have stayed there for a few restful hours had Wire not shouted over the radio.  “Wiggs, I found one!” Too groggy from her nap to share his enthusiasm, she weakly wagged her wings. “Found what? Your sanity?” “I lost that after following you out here. No, I found a transponder.  Da da da daaa! I took it off one of Reckless’s shuttles.” Still too tired to put much effort into her speech, Wiggly grinned anyway. “Great job. Now we can finally leave this place.  Once we sell our stuff I am buying a massage shower.” The installation was easy enough, thanks to the pictures on the side, but there was an issue there as well.  Wiggly sat in the cramped dining area of the freighter drinking a pouch of soda to wake back up.  A reclaimed pad was floating nearby, and was playing a drama show being broadcasted from the colony.  Her belly was full and the joy of having a fully pressurized ship and the toughest work behind her left her feeling lazy.  “Three proper meals and no pony to bother us.  This is the life.” Wire floated in, using the wall rails to pull himself along.  “Wiggs, we got a problem with the transponder.  It’s demanding a new license before we can activate it.” Waggling her soda pouch, beads of soda popped out. Wiggly gazed at him with a bemoaned sigh.  “We pulled the thing off of a navy ship.  Shouldn’t it already have a license?”  Noticing the beads, she sucked them down.  “That’s what I thought, but when I got all the wires right, the computer said the transponder recognized it’s in a new ship.  It’s asking for naval authorization to work.” Sagging a bit out of mild annoyance, Wiggly unstrapped herself from the seat and table so she could float freely.  “Well good luck getting it from the AIs around here.  Not one of them is intact enough to just need power, they’d probably try to kill us as intruders if we tried.” “Which means we need to get it from the Rainbow Dash.”  Wire was more than a little excited with that idea. I’ll finally get a chance to see Winter in person in I don’t know how long.   Wiggly raised a half cocked eyebrow at him. “How convenient it is that you tricked me into welding on two extra cargo containers just so you could cram them full of missiles. You do realize strictly speaking it’s illegal for us to even have those things without direct naval approval right?  The Dash will probably shoot us on sight before we even come close to the fighter screen. No pony is going to miss the scanners telling them we’re a flying bomb with those things onboard.” “All the more reason to return them to the navy as a gesture of goodwill,” Wire retorted with a roguish smirk. “I'll set up the radio to act like a makeshift transponder.  A repeating message of ‘don’t shoot, we’re salvagers,’ should do the trick.  I’ll even let Winter know we’re coming so the Dash knows we’re not pirates.” Sprocket wasn’t too keen on trusting nervous navy pilots, or Winter’s influence. “Now wait a minute.  It was already bad enough you used your veto to get these missiles in the first place-”  “And the big bag of chocolate turtles,” he cut in matter of factly. “Don’t interrupt when I’m nagging.”  She wiggled a wing finger at him as a warning.   “And the whole series of Vampony Chronicles,” he brazenly added. All she could do was wordlessly grumble extra loud before continuing.  “Anyway, when exactly are you going to do this?  Staying quiet, which I might add, included not visiting your marefriend was both your idea. All so no pony could trace the signal. Every pirate in an astro unit will come for us. You know they target salvagers above everypony else. Aren’t I supposed to be the one to come up with the ‘harebrained schemes?’” “When we get close to the Rainbow Dash of course. Don’t tell me you forgot a transponder is more than just an id tag.” “Oh sure. Let’s go around Trireme with a card that says ‘I’m a citizen’.  I’m sure everypony will accept it as legit.  This ‘idea’ of yours is all the excuse a fighter needs to blow us out of the sea.” Wire slid up next to her and bumped her nose with his own. “You got a better idea?  Only the Navy can activate our transponder. And even if we did find another, it won’t be a civilian model.” You really need to put more faith in your fellow pony. Namingly, Winter. Because she’ll be our in.” “I still think we’re going to die.” Wire gave her an evil prosthetic eye, one she grew uncomfortable with. “Oh shush. You almost got us killed with the mines. Now it’s my turn.” He pulled back and blew a raspberry at her. “Not only is my plan much safer, but we need the money and a way to activate the transponder.  No use fighting it. It’s happening.” “The things you pull just to get snu snu with your marefriend… Fine, if we survive we’re even.”