"To all receiving ships, I am Phineas Startrot; no affiliation. Please respond."
The stallion waited for a reply from the assembly of the Resistance. A bounty of voices reported in, chiming over his comms one after the other. Deep voices. Gravelly voices. A few musical ones and a few not so musical ones. Ships crewed by peoples of all walks of life, all for one goal, gathered in one place. Phineas couldn't help but feel empowered by being in their presence. As far as he was concerned, this day belonged to them. He was only the means in which they seized the moment to retaliate against their captors.
"You have my condolences for any hardships you might have experienced aboard that accursed ship," Phineas began to transmit. "and I understand what I am going to ask of you will be... sudden. But for too long you have struggled underneath Hoof-Talon dominion."
He paused, gathering his thoughts. He had to word his next statements carefully.
"I suspect that I know how to end the war against them."
Uproar blasted over Phineas' comms, many incredulous and dismissive. He couldn't blame them, he would probably doubt himself if he were in their place. A single pony from a time forgotten claiming to know how to end a war that has lasted centuries across the stellar clusters?
But the story of Tsubar was a tale incredible in its own right, and Phineas felt that in time the extraordinary was going to become the norm. A time of heroes and legends rising from the depths of desperation and despair. A time of hope.
"Listen to me, please!" he implored. He repeated variations of this, fighting back the opposing voices until he was finally given the right of way to speak.
"Thank you! Now, I believe the key to true victory is to hunt down the Marauders. They are the seat from which the Hoof-Talons rule!"
"How absurd!" someone said, their voice punctuated by cricket-like chittering and chirping.
"It is true! The Hoof-Talons reproduce artificially! They grow their... offspring ...on the Marauders. I would not be surprised if that was part of the reason they collected you all in the first place. To better develop their procedure," Phineas replied. This time there was no counterargument, just stunned silence across the board.
He was sure most of them had seen the crimes committed in the name of "science". Now they knew the reason why they were done, and they were horrified. Rightfully so.
"Spread the word. There is power in unity. We can take back what they have stolen but we have to strike as one, or they'll just keep replicating and rebuilding. We need to find the Marauders and put. Them. Down."
A voice sounding like quaking earth said: "Well that was a fine speech and all, but how exactly are we going to find every Marauder the Hoof-Talons have? And how are we supposed to destroy them all in any reasonable time? The Hoof-Talons will have adapted their tactics before too long. They always do."
"Damn..." Phineas thought. He hadn't put nearly enough thought into that. He was betting on odds this whole time. The odds that would be in his favor if he were to free forces of the Resistance from a Marauder, the odds that would shift with the tide of fighters that would have swept the galaxy should his message be heeded. But how long would that take?
Worse still; what if his message was ignored?
He wanted to kick himself. "Startrot, you idiot!"
"I may have a solution," an entirely different voice replied.
***
The one who spoke had a deep, calm voice that had a strangely otherworldly echo to it. "Perhaps if we were to board a Hoof-Talon vessel and... procure some of their telemetry equipment..."
"Then we could locate Hoof-Talon ships!" a buzzing voice exclaimed.
"We would need a lot of equipment."
"We can have our best builders emulate their technology."
"It will be risky."
"A lot of these things are."
And just like that, Phineas' comms were overtaken by the strategic chattering. This was happening! The days of the Hoof-Talon legion were numbered.
"I will be willing to aid in retrieving this equipment," Phineas said.
"I will take a division of ships to relay this information to other rebellion hubs." said the being with the rumbling baritone. "The faster we get word out, the better."
***
And so the pieces were falling into place. By Spell-core warping, the news of the new offensive was on its way to reaching the other rebel fleets scattered across the stars, to bring them into harmony as one united force. The only thing that was needed now was the Hoof-Talon technology -intact. That meant the bombed out, simmering debris littering the star system would not suffice.
Another band of legionaries had to be found. Phineas was not alone on the hunt, however. A small party accompanied the shuttle, flying side by side a few hundred meters apart.
A Heavy Ballistics craft was the hardest hitter in the group, a craft slender at the front where it had a Spell-core blaster and heftier near the aft. It wasn't because its engine added to his mass -it only had one large propulsion drive- but because of the great deal of launchers and salvos that were mounted on its hull and installed directly into the beast of a spacecraft.
Six lighter support ships rounded out the group. While not offensively inclined, the blocky spaceships had the ability to link up their shield projectors, forming a more formidable bubble around their formation. Each one had a single burst laser turret attached to the lower hull. They flew as escorts to the Ballistics craft.
Phineas' shuttle was easily the most combat capable for its size as the party moved en route to another Hoof-Talon occupied system. Sporting phasers that supported sustained firing abilities and disruptor beams, four sustained laser canons and a missile silo, the term "shuttle" didn't quite apply anymore.
***
Eight warp signatures shot out across a binary star system that had one large white-hot star and a smaller, orange one locked together in an eternal dance. Around them were a bunch of space rocks, absolutely crowding the space in the solar system.
Like birds on perches, Draconixes stood, silent guards keeping watch. At the signs of intruders, their rockets fired up and they moved in to intercept. Taking off from the rocks were the hordes of other Hoof-Talon warships.
"Decisions decisions..." Phineas thought, watching the oncoming wall of metal amidst the meteors. Which ship was he going to focus his attention on?
The Heavy Ballistics vessel sent forth a flurry of missiles. They left a dark vapor trail behind them as they curved in between space rocks and detonated in the heart of the advancing units. The paneling covering the Spell-core blaster floated with beams of magical energy binding the plates in rotation, charging up a blast while the escort ships strengthened the shielding around the weapon specifically, to prevent it from being interrupted.
The lethal glowing storm stretched out from the Hoof-Talon ships, the Draconixes channeling magic into their palms, compressed collections of energy manifesting in between their glowing claws and then being projected into a scattering blast of orbs and beams.
Rays speared through the empty space and blew through the space litter indiscriminately. The ones that met their mark were directed on the heavy weapons platform, which held out despite the focused punishment. That was not going to remain true for long, though. The fight here wasn't meant to be an uncontested victory, laying waste to the legionaries. It was a time sensitive endeavor.
Get in, retrieve the vital tech and get the hell back out again.
***
"He'shus Ch'rast, we're going in hard!" Phineas heard one of the aliens in an escort ship shout over his comms.
"Strap in!" another replied. There was an audio artifact that sounded like a pop, followed by strange exclamations and the high pitched sound of laser cannon fire.
The escorts sent their tiny blasts into the chaos as the Heavy Ballistics vessel pounded enemy ships into dust. With the Marauder pulling up from behind the immediate line of enemies, it adjusted its inclination to aim the powerful energy cannon at the gigantic ship and sent the magical plume across the plane of battle.
Ships that weren't even hit by it -those that happened to be in the general vicinity of the spiraling blue beam- paused in mid flight then promptly exploded. Shredded hull floated away from the Marauder, part of the golden beak deformed and stripped away. It prevented its weapon bay from opening and thus limited the excessive firepower which would have cut the fight short.
"It's now or never, Startrot!"
Phineas pulled ahead, bobbing in between the exchange. Gunning the engines, he came up around a cruiser, pummeling its shield with sustained laser beams until it was depleted then hit it with twin disruptor beams in the cockpit and engines, rendering it unable to adjust its heading at all.
Phineas knew he just made the ship he was going to EVA over to coast through a labyrinth of jagged space rocks without any means of control, be it directional or in terms of acceleration. He was aware of this fact, but far from happy about it. He had his shuttle's automation take control, matching relative speeds with the cruiser. He took the PDA and put it back around his wrist, activated his suit's life support system, unstrapped from his seat and controls then drained the cockpit of air.
The screen went up and he flew out with short bursts of his jetpack. "Been a while since I've done this," he thought as he came down onto the hull, magnetic hoof-clamps anchoring him to it. "Though if I recall correctly, I wasn't in immediate danger of dying then..."
He deactivated the clamps and pulsed forward, searching for an entryway. Coming across a hatch, Phineas reached into his tool kit and pulled out his Harmonizer, cranking its power output to high and then proceeding to carve a groove into the edge of the normally airtight door, the prongs of the tool bright like a welder's torch.
***
When he was finished with that, Phineas swapped out the Harmonizer with his crowbar and pried the hatch open effortlessly with his Earth pony strength.
He entered the airlock and repeated the process with the internal sluice, a short hiss of air marking the decompression of the room beyond when he forced the internal door open. Two Hoof-Talon soldiers had rushed to investigate the breach, finding the compartment's atmospheric pressure to be nonexistent. As they tapped in a command on a keypad strapped to their chests, Phineas charged at them, hover-platform rifles firing. He gunned one of them down and was already in melee range by time the other deployed their blaster from their pack.
Phineas reared; two jabs -one for each side of their head- leaving the Hoof-Talon dazed. It fired wildly, their shot turning a small part of the opposite wall into glowing slag which splattered onto the floor. The silver stallion fired his thrusters and swung his hind legs out, smashing the Hoof-Talon's head into the wall and making it drop to the floor.
Two quick shots from the rifles made sure it stayed down.
By taking the device one of them wore on their chest, Phineas was able to open subsequent doors without having to cut his way through them first. It made his progress through the cruiser easier: firstly, he had a map which he used to find the most direct route to the cockpit. Secondly, his appearances always took the Hoof-Talons he came across by surprise. Before they were able to raise their shield, Phineas sent magi-bolts through their heads.
***
He made it to the cockpit after sneaking through the hallways, any confrontation over and dealt with swiftly enough. He found it weird how much the cruiser reminded him of the Desolus, with the strips of light running along the walls and the terminals with a full keyboard angled out from underneath the monitors, but that was no longer a concern when he opened those last doors. The door was split into two parts at a diagonal and they pulled away with a mechanical hum.
The Hoof-Talons inside were busy tapping away at buttons and monitoring scrambled screens to acknowledge the sound of the doors parting. They did not even get the chance to look at the armor clad stallion, who jetted into the room, his energy blade extended. He could not have risked damaging the equipment he was supposed to retrieve by firing his guns.
Of the six hybrids that were desperately trying to restore control over their ship, none were standing. Limbs were scattered, wounds cauterized. The bodies laid in heaps of singed fur and feathers. Only one of them still lived, twitching and jerking. An arm had been sliced off, along with a leg. It reached out with their remaining forelimb, the arm trembling, talons twitching. With labored breaths, the Hoof-Talon rasped: "Filth..." then let their self fall limp.
Phineas stared down at the dead Hoof-Talon with the impassive gaze of his helmet.
"Well... at least at the end you weren't so high and mighty, were you? You spoke to me... that has to mean something..."
Sighing, Phineas pulled out his Harmonizer and began to dissect the cruiser's navigation computer, taking advantage of the lack of power to disassemble the device and put its components in his toolboxes.
"Stage one complete. Time to get moving-"
He raised his PDA to see an alert from his shuttle. A proximity warning: the cruiser -and by extension, the shuttle- was on a direct course with an asteroid, unsurprisingly enough.
"Could've come up at a worse time," the stallion thought with a shrug, then activated his thruster pack, shooting out of the cockpit then down his route in reverse.
***
Startrot flew out from the external hatch and got back into his shuttle, swiveling his boosters to get him into his seat. He strapped in, brought the canopy down and repressurised the cockpit. He tore away from the cruiser thereafter, which collided against the hunk of rock and metal moments later, leaving its mark with a crater in an expanding surge of flame.
"Mission accomplished. I got the parts. Lets go put them to work!" Phineas reported to the others, which were still battling the swarms of other ships, bombarded by the Hoof-Talon assault.
"Acknowledged!"
"Disengaging!"
"In the pipe, five by five!"