//------------------------------// // A Lifetime Reinstated // Story: [Forlorn Ascension]|[Rites of Dominion] // by Desrium //------------------------------// It was the early hours of a most fateful day when Phineas stood before the imposing building, grand in design and meaning. The beginning of a long and brutal road to becoming fit to count himself among heroes and legends was the Manehattan Starfleet Registration Hub. It was a giant domed building, its entrances marked by marble stairs and pillars. Engraved into the triangular buttresses which projected over them, lined with gold, were the sun and moon, encircled by an embossed ring in the stone. Such buildings stood out when the architecture of Equestrian cities was dominated by spires of concrete, glass and steel, metropolises reaching for the heavens that mocked the stars at night with their innumerable street lamps and other light sources. There was a certain charm to these dated structures, holdovers from an age passed which humbled all that would climb their steps and pass through their doors. Phineas felt the place had an inherent call for respect, as if it possessed the regality of the princesses. He made his way up the stairs holding his head high, puffing his chest out and smiling a winning smile. He was to be confident; not arrogant. In spite of his stature, what he had with him conveyed a life of hardship for the silver stallion. Phineas did not have any formal attire on his person as he approached the huge doors of the grand structure; while most of the Manehattan ponies that walked down the sidewalks around the building had their flashy suits of various colors and designs. All of the things he had with him since he got off the train from Ponyville were in a small brown leather satchel that had a dinged black buckle to keep it shut; in contrast to the fancy saddlebags and hovering containers other travelers had with them departing the Manehattan station. He was ungroomed, his mane pointing every which way, his tail frayed at the edges. "Let them see you for who you are, not what you look like. Otherwise there is no point to this," he reminded himself. He nodded politely to the two guardsponies stationed on either side of the double doors of a rich reddish brown color and decorated with intricate etchings in the wood. Their entire bodies were in black one-piece suits, golden chest plates and horseshoes decorated them. Ornate helmets adorned their heads. In return, the guards regarded him with leveled looks with only the slightest signs that they were silently judging the newcomer. A slightly arched brow, the beginnings of a scowl; Phineas simply maintained his pleasant visage while hiding his inner resentment. "Don't let them see your hatred. It only provokes them." He knew they did not think much of him. He knew they expected him to be turned away, to return to the social trench from whence he crawled from. After all, how could a common, destitute pony ever hope to find a place in Equestria's most demanding effort -an effort where hundreds of aspiring space travelers were denied on a daily basis? *** Various papers and cards confirming the silver stallion's identity were presented before a donkey sitting behind a terminal. They were laid out on the desk, some of the papers badly wrinkled and bearing sloppy fold lines. The donkey looked up at the stallion every so often with that same judging look on their face, but they never said anything. They all took refuge in their silence, and it was beginning to eat away at Phineas' patience. "Go ahead and say it," Phineas thought bitterly underneath his outward ruse, which he still put forth for all to see. "I already know that I'm a poor vagrant without a pinch of salt to call my own. I already know that I look like a piece of garbage that got out of the gutter and dragged its way here. I already know that I've been abandoned with only myself to depend on. But clearly you think I need to be reminded." There was nothing to betray this inner anger Startrot concealed. He just had this air about him, a vibe of calm contentedness; as if he were on top of the world though he was very much far from it. It was something the donkey in their Federation robe found most peculiar. "Are you not a bit... young... to be considering joining Starfleet, Mr.Startrot?" the donkey asked. "I've already completed my years of primary education. Starfleet academy offers more to be studied," Phineas replied evenly. "Even if I don't make the cut, I'd have still learned some things and I'd have the life experience and all. Besides, I've already spent my bits getting to this place, I might as well be proactive and take advantage of the free national program going on!" "It may be free-" the donkey began to say, but Phineas was quick to cut them off. "But it isn't in any way easy. I know. I'm not looking for the easy way out; I'm looking for something worthwhile. Something that will end up making me a better pony in the end, for better or worse. A stallion in my position has nothing else to live for without a challenge to confront... and the academy is mine. I'd consider being a janitor or a third class crewpony an achievement if it's Federation-official," said Phineas. This was before he had developed his competitive fervor and drive to fulfill his dream. After Star Commander Astartex's address to the Manehattan cadets, no longer was Startrot satisfied with striving for the minimum. He was to be the best there was, no longer admiring the heavens from atop a hill, but piloting his own ship through the cosmos with his own band of intrepid explorers under his authority. Fate hardly abides by one's aspirations. *** When the wires crossed, the synapses in his brain fired up once more and his heart started beating. The first thing he perceived was that blinding light fading away. The fog in his mind gave way to the screen of the stasis pod and the panel he pressed to freeze him in time. Waking up left Phineas somewhat groggy. It took a little more than a minute for him to register that the panel had data on its display. His vital signs were listed in a stack with his heartbeat represented by the green line running across the right side of the panel, spiking and dipping with a regular rhythm. He was in pristine condition, better than when he entered the pod even. When his head got up to speed, he felt amazing. He felt refreshed, rejuvenated. He felt... "Alive! I'm alive!" the silver pony thought with an ecstatic grin on his face. The joy of revival -the joy of survival- it almost made him tear up then and there. He remembered that gripping fear of impending doom full well when he lost himself in full to the shuttle...and here he was now! Alive and well! He tapped the panel for more information. Just why had he been awoken? Did the shuttle come across a Federation signal? Something that could be traced to another starship; perhaps even Earth itself? The prospect filled him with such a surge of hope that the revelation was utterly crushing, like the choking coils of an Iopteryx's tendrils. STASIS-SLEEP DURATION: 378 YEARS, the bold green proclamation stretched across the entire panel. His mouth was agape. "I've been asleep for almost four centuries!?" Phineas exclaimed in disbelief. He looked away, staring blankly through the pod's window at the room's ceiling. This was not something he did not expect. He knew that by going into stasis, he would end up transcending mortality itself as years passed without himself aging at all. It was one thing to note the possibility mentally and it was another thing entirely to actually experience it. His mind reeled at the consequences of this. 378 years of history... and he was completely ignorant to it all, lost in the black void. He cringed. This was not productive thinking. This was the thinking a pony did when they were being overwhelmed. Phineas was not that kind of pony. He did his utmost to make sure of that. "378 years or 378,000 years, I'm here. I have been taken out of stasis, it is time to find out why." He pushed the screen up, a hiss of air accompanying its opening. Plates of metal popped up from the pod as he sat up, puffs of vapor expelled from it before the plates returned to their positions. Phineas' bones cracked as he climbed out of the pod and once he had stretched out, he closed it. He walked over to he cockpit door which slid open as it had done more than three centuries prior. The cockpit's projections and displays came to life with his presence at the helm. Anomaly detected: Unknown reading was clearly visible amidst the orange glow. Phineas strapped into his seat and put his forelegs in the neuro-link sleeves. He went through his systems list first and foremost to make sure everything worked as they were meant to after nearly four centuries without proper inspection. Everything was nominal in condition...but the thrusters and phaser cannons were deactivated. Remotely deactivated. Something had incapacitated the shuttle. In an instant, Phineas' mindset shifted entirely. He was primed to defend himself against this enemy unknown. He did not wake up from his induced slumber just to die by some other means. He would not allow himself such indignity! He brought up a projection of the offending... object... which was responsible for deactivating the systems and subsequently ending his stasis. It looked vaguely like a dragonfly with a bulbous front end and long, sleek blocky body that had two large radial thrusters on either side near the midsection. The aft was L shaped with the longer part of it pointing forward on the underside. Windows lined the hull of the alien craft and various pointed instruments jutted from it. They looked like antenna but Phineas could not be certain. "That is not a Federation craft..." Phineas muttered. "It can't be... something else, can it?" he asked himself. It was too astounding to seriously think he had been discovered by space faring aliens, but there was no denying it. The shuttle would have recognized another Starfleet vessel. There would have been attempts to hail him instead of disabling his offensive and evasive systems. Phineas had to avert his eyes from the forward window as bright light streamed in through it. Covering his eyes with a hoof, he stole a glance at the ship's readouts. Its speed had been dampened substantially by a retrieval beam from the alien craft. The stallion cursed under his breath, the memories flashing before his eyes. It was all so uncannily similar to that escape pod, yet it had its definitive differences. A lone craft coasting through space with weaponry aboard drawing the attention of some form of intelligent life from somewhere amidst the stars, they pursue to investigate, finding that its lone passenger was the survivor of an interstellar disaster that took place hundreds of years prior. What happens next, Phineas did not know. But he was going to be prepared. *** He slammed the locker door shut. The only thing that was inside was his PDA. In no time the armored space suit that was stowed away was now upon his body, covering his features in metal. It was not heavy in the least to wear, even the booster/weapons platform he wore on his back. A magical HUD interface appeared before his eyes, various bits of information such as atmospheric scans and other data his PDA would have supplied him displayed in his field of vision. In addition to this augmented reality, the helmet adapted to all levels of lighting, able to make pitch dark environments look like a bright sunny day complete with full color. Phineas flicked his metal coated tail and with an energetic burst of light and sound, a red, broad beam of energy extended from the end, stopping when it was four feet in length. Its outline was white hot, making the air around it ripple. He retracted the energy blade, then tested the weapon platform. From either side of the pack with rapid flipping of metal plates, two hover disk platforms shot out, the guns mounted upon them unfolding with clicks and snaps until the thin barrels of plasma rifles were fully extended. On his HUD, a reticule appeared for aiming purposes. Phineas took a deep breath and then recalled the guns, the weapons folding up and the disks flying back into their places within the armor's pack. He would rather not have to use these tools of murder, even for self defense... but space had already proven itself to be a hostile place. He did not imagine it changing much over the course of three centuries, when it was trillions of years old. What did change was the fact Phineas could definitively answer an age-old question of Equestria: there was life elsewhere in the galaxy...