The fight had come to an end. The mighty guns mounted on the warships, though they remained primed for another surprise attack, for now stood down. They floated within the familiar clouds of ruins and wrecks, hulls simmering and scorched. Gaping wounds ran down the lengths of many of the surviving ships.
When all was said and done, the defending party was only slightly better off from what it once was. And that was due to the fact that, despite how small a number it was compared to how many were with them at the start of the battle, there were now more ships than before. The only down side was that most of them were heavily damaged, barely able to continue operating.
Though fate, in spite of its cruelty, had one stroke of kindness to the beaten and battered members of the resistance; they were all in the convenient vicinity of one of the Harmony’s remaining largest and most advanced outpost facilities. With the many destroyed ships now taking up space, resources for repairs were plentiful. With the momentary respite, the proper rites could be performed to say farewell to those who gave their lives in this horrific war.
Rebuilding what little they had left was all they could do now.
“This is Space Ranger Ryagna-Elysia requesting permission to dock on behalf of the Harmony fleet,” the female ranger messaged the G.S.O. The battle-sphere was flying toward the humungous complex, accompanied by the tattered spacecraft ranging from all sizes, each having varying degrees of severity when it came to the damage their ships sustained. More than a few were still burning with arcane flames that refused to die no matter what was done to them, be it the emergency response systems or the desperate crew trying to stave off imminent destruction.
“This is Commander Uolix of the Galactic Situation Observatory. Permission granted,” came Uolix’s voice over her communication uplink. Several hundred meters away from the fleet, the enormous blast doors on the exterior of the G.S.O started to split and fold away. Beyond them, the gigantic ship bay awaited the weary warriors.
The better part of the next few hours were spent docking with the station, entering the waiting docking cages and getting securely clamped into place by the mechanical arms that appeared along the ceiling, walls and floor.
After his shuttle was disengaged from the battle-sphere and was successfully contained in its own port, Phineas stood on one of many walkways arranged in a greater number of tiers and levels. Bright lights shone, casting strange and wayward shadows around the hulking titans surrounding him. Past the other ships, the giant white and blue doors were closed, blending seamlessly into the surrounding structure with strips of light running across them and raised ridges of metal where machinery was built right into them.
It was only when he was outside of his shuttle looking back on it that he got a good view of just how much punishment the old Federation ship endured. Its silvery hull was grayed and black, lines of soot streaking down its length, telling of glancing blows from the malicious blasts that the necrolier horde pelted it with. Its mangled wing was frayed at the edge, its length cut down by a large margin and its internal workings exposed.
Phineas shook his head, deeply saddened by the sight. The shuttle was more than a spaceship to him at this point. Without it, he would have been dead centuries ago. It was much more than just a reminder of his days on Earth as well. The craft was no mere product of Federation ingenuity; it was his home in the cosmos. The stallion did not belong anywhere else in this galaxy but his shuttle, and the shuttle took him wherever he may go.
The silver stallion sighed when he saw the Federation insignia. The red ring enclosing the sun and the moon was almost completely stripped away, as if the symbol was bombarded by an abrasive wind. The colors were duller as a result, lackluster.
“The last Federation pony still living today…” Phineas said to himself before laughing dryly.
With the din of hundreds conversing in the bay and machinery at work, he did not hear the sound of the approaching group until they were right behind him. He looked over his shoulder when he became aware of their presence and saw the four station crewmembers. They were wearing personnel hardsuits which, in addition to the protective armored plating, had all sorts of straps and compartments to hold equipment and other utilities with.
”Engineers,” Phineas thought, ”I guess toolboxes went out of style.”
The group stood to the pony’s sides, two on his left and right. Phineas idly glanced in between them as they inspected the damage. The one right next to his left side spoke with a casual air to their almost musical voice that made determining a gender difficult, “It’s pretty unbelievable that you survived a hit like that. Most ships would’ve just spiraled out of control and exploded.”
“To be fair,” Phineas started to say, “I didn’t lose the thruster immediately. I lost it getting rescued.”
“What a shame,” the one to the stallion’s far right replied. “But I guess this would be a good reason for you to stop flying ancient scrap metal around, huh?”
Phineas narrowed his eyes, but kept his voice level to disguise his irritation. His helmet helped his illusion of impassiveness. “No,” the stallion responded, “It’s a good excuse to make those upgrades I’ve been meaning to get to for the last week or so.”
The pony turned away from the shuttle and started to head down the industrial walkway. He stopped a few paces away and glanced back at the crew. He saw that they were staring after him and he smirked. “Look, I’ve got some business to do with your Commander. While you’re repairing my wing, why don’t you swap out my engines and weapons for things more up to date?”
“Who do you think you are?” one of them inquired with distinct indignation.
“The last Federation pony alive,” Phineas said evenly. They all stiffened up at the simple uttering of the phrase and the armored pony turned his gaze forwards again. With a flick of the end of his tail, he shouted over the ambience of the ship bay, “Please and thank you!”
With that, he continued on down the platform, leaving the busy scene behind him where the crews of the ships and the occupying station crew worked to get the war scarred warships back in working order.
***
“So this is my punishment for being an ass to those guys.”
Phineas held up his PDA for the umpteenth time. The holo-map spread out in front of his eyes, decks upon decks and winding hallways all miniaturized into a model of white light.
“Finding that terminal was too easy. Reading the damned map? That’s the real challenge!”
He looked up from the hologram and checked the thick black inscription on the wall, running it through the translator to find out what exactly it said. Phineas then did a double take, glancing back to the wall and then the hologram as he couldn’t believe that after all the wandering through hallways, doorways, elevators and more hallways; he had reached the central observatory building.
“Finally,” Phineas mumbled to himself. He referred back to the map, attempting to identify the route he should take to reach the observation chamber where the Commander was supposedly on duty. After all the effort spent to get in the same section of the station, there was still quite a ways to go before he would arrive at the chamber’s doors.
“… Not so finally. Damn it.”
Several minutes of walking later, Phineas actually stood before one of many doors on the curved chamber walls. He heard the inner mechanisms turning and twisting out of sight before the door split in two and moved apart. Immediately, a faint glow spilled through the doorway, the light somewhat calming and welcoming. Intrigued, the stallion stepped in. He was greeted by an intricate array of platforms and walkways behind the door, but for all the space the great chamber had, it was awfully deserted and quiet.
Phineas trotted over to the railing at the edge of the platform and swung his forelegs up onto the topmost bar, resting them as he took in the sights below. It was an impressive room, with the super projector and the giant hologram being the crown jewel, but he could tell just by looking this place was supposed to be busier. There were rows upon rows of computers at the bottom of the chamber with no one using them.
“It’s a wonder how this place is still running, with so little staff…” Phineas commented. It was about then that he noticed one of the officers below gesticulating at him. It was tiny compared to the machine that was behind it and the distance between it and the stallion didn’t help things much at all. The most he could have guessed from it was that he was wanted down there for whatever reason. Phineas backed away from the railing and looked for a way down, spotting yet another elevator unit. He had gotten well acquainted with them trying to find this place and this latest encounter came much too soon after his last.
The silver stallion stepped inside and started pressing keys on the control panel. Then he waited as the lift descended slowly, its motors whirring away. When he reached the bottom, he stepped through the little gate that the split in the railing made. “It’s times like now that I really appreciate the jetpack,” he mused as he started walking toward the gigantic holo-unit.
As he drew closer, he realized just who it was that was waving to him earlier. Her exo-suit did not look any different since he last saw her, but there she was, Commander of the Harmony. Phineas made his way through the aisles of terminals, past the few operators at work and came to a halt directly in front of Uolix. He wanted to say something witty and charming.
”Funny how the cook on a rusty freighter ended up being the leader of the largest organization in the galaxy!” he thought, but couldn’t bring himself to say. He could only think about the last time he was in the same place with the Shu’badi, and it left him with silence.
She must have been going through something similar, because Uolix didn’t say anything either. The two simply faced each other, one standing while the other hovered. In some ways, it was an appropriate greeting. In most ways, it was just awkward to behold.
“We were never especially close, you and I,” Phineas said abruptly.
Uolix cocked her head slightly at first, confused. After mulling over his words for a minute or so, she nodded. “We didn’t cross paths until it was time to eat. And even then we didn’t talk much. You stayed with Gaali most of the time, if I remember correctly.”
“I should have tried to get to know you all better while I still had the chance to.” Phineas sat back on his haunches. He put a hoof to the side of his helmet and there was a hiss of air when he disengaged it. He pulled it off of his head, his mane tumbling freely from it and his glistening eyes exposed, his sad expression open to be read.
Uolix lowered her gaze to avoid his eyes. “I wish our meeting was under better terms.”
“With the crisis we’re up against, there isn’t any point to wishing, Uolix,” Phineas replied. He reached out with his free hoof, putting it under the chin of her helm and angling it up so that he could look into her visor. He saw his teary eyes reflected back at him and his expression hardened in seconds.
“We’ve got a war to win and we have to do it fast, because if the battle to defend this station is anything to go by, the galaxy as we know it won’t be around for long.”
“Win this war? Fast?” Uolix replied. “Phineas… you have become something of a legend across the stars… you were instrumental in bringing about the end of the Hoof-Talons… have you let this cloud your judgment? The best hope we have is to band together and hold a defensive against the enemy, then strike back when we are fully capable of doing so!”
Phineas pulled his foreleg back and shook his head. “This isn’t just war for war’s sake. It never was. The Star Terrors aren’t just things that hide in the darkness, watching idly and acting at random. They might not give us the chance to fortify our defense.”
“What do you mean?” Uolix asked, curious as to how much the pony knew about the Star Terrors and their connection to the galactic scourge.
“The destruction of my planet… the Hoof-Talons and now… the undead… it all started with them. They get people to follow them as gods and do their bidding,” Phineas started to explain.
“I don’t know what their plan is. I don’t think I could even understand it even if it was presented right in front of me. But I am certain there’s a leader out there somewhere. We need to find it and kill it to put an end to this war. Then we need to find a way to stop the Star Terrors… I suggest stopping the spread of their influence somehow. If they don’t have followers, they don’t have forces to start these wars of theirs with… and maybe without them they will lose their power… or at the very least be forced to show themselves if they want to do anything concerning the galaxy, so that we can fight them head on.”
“It seems like you are asking to do the impossible, pony,” said Uolix worriedly.
“I probably am,” the silver replied. “But I am Phineas Startrot. I did the impossible once and I can do it again, if it means putting an end to this misery and bloodshed once and for all.”
"How do you know all of this?" Uolix inquired.
"It's a long story... it starts with a distress signal I picked up... more than a month ago..." Phineas answered...