//------------------------------// // 21 - When you have enough evidence, there is no room for hope. // Story: Final Solution // by Luna-tic Scientist //------------------------------// Orgon glanced down the list of text updates while his new military advisor -- a dark-coated female by the name of Faula, who was acting as a liaison to the hurriedly reassembled chain of command -- whispered an endless list in one ear: The vehicles lost, most in a single sweep of focused sunlight from that disastrous attempt to burn the rogue servitor and as much evidence as possible. The slaughter of the special forces teams that had been under Naraka, either by the escaped gryphons, or trapped in the rubble without hope of rescue by the retaliatory nuclear strike. The unbelievable level of destruction in orbit, everything from heavy industrial plants in the debris ring to low-altitude surveillance constellations; destruction on the same order as a global war. At least the other programs at Naraka will not need to be hidden. Orgon's lips peeled back in a silent snarl, then his expression smoothed and returned to its customary slight smile. The strike, at least, had been successful; a time-on-target barrage of staged 'foxhole' earth-penetrating warheads that turned Naraka and the surrounding landscape into pulverized ash over a kilolength deep. He continued to read, ignoring the repeated requests of his liaison that he should relocate to a more secure site, until one of the entries on the litany of woe caught his eye: 'capture partially successful -- subverted servitor en route to Bakot base'. "The pony will put this one down," he said, glancing at Merlon. "These ones are leaving." The mare, deeply engaged in her magic, jumped as if stung. "Master, apologies." She stepped a little closer, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her body. "Where do you want me to take you?" He shook his head. "This one will meet the World Court Audit Team leader; the pony will go to Bakot and assist in the interrogation of the captured servitor. Orgon needs to know as much as possible -- especially the nature of the teleportation magic." Merlon stood there for a second, then her ears flicked back and she shivered. "Master, it is not safe for me to leave you... and I have not yet completed your treatment." "Nevertheless, the pony must go." Orgon gave an abortive wave of his paw that made the mare flinch. Hesitating, he gently laid his palm against her neck. "This task is more important; Merlon has a unique set of skills and this one cannot trust any other servitor." He gave a little push, and Merlon nearly tripped in her haste to leave. Feeling vaguely naked without the servitor's bulk filling his small corner of the improvised command post, he turned to Faula. "This one needs an airtruck with full comms gear; he will set up operations in whatever base Faula feels appropriate. Orgon will need to talk to the lead Auditor as soon as possible." "Yes, Strategist." The relief in her voice was obvious, and she gestured to the guard detail to fall in around them. "One is already prepared for the Strategist, down in the deep tunnels." He nodded and set off at a fast walk that changed to a jog as soon as his aching muscles allowed. === Random stumbled down a tunnel, flanked on either side by the warmth of her sire and dam. She still felt cold, the chill of the frosted tunnels stabbing up through her frogs to make her ankles ache. She opened her mouth to ask where her sister was in all this mayhem and chaos, then closed it slowly. Single is dead... how could I forget that? The memories of the young filly, shot in the throat by a supposedly less-than-lethal projectile, seemed hazy, supplanted by the much more real visions that had been fed to her over subjective megaseconds. She shivered, and Trocar bent his neck to nuzzle at her poll. "Don't worry; it's warmer in the deep tunnels. All this cold is because of the new magic Fusion taught us," he murmured, words nearly lost over the clatter of many sets of hooves coming and going. You betrayed our Masters. You all have, just by being here. The thought should have brought with it a flash of pain, the sensation of sharp teeth clamping down on her throat, but it didn't. The realisation made her inhale sharply and she staggered, legs nearly tangling. Over her head, Trocar and Spiral exchanged a worried glance, but she ignored them. Tears started to dampen the fur of her face, and her breath came in rough sobs. What have you done to me? Random nearly spoke the words out loud, nearly screamed them out, but she held it inside. The Sector Chief said something about this, some horror that splits a pony from the voice of the Maker. I must be strong, must not waver from my task. The tears started to fall in earnest and she tottered to a halt in the middle of the tunnel. I am lost, alone here among the enemies of my Masters. Random's legs gave way and she fell to the cold floor, only saved by a haze of green magic from Spiral. "Come on," the mare said, lifting her up and folding one wing around her torso. Random hung limply in the telekinetic field, staring out through tear-distorted eyes as Spiral pushed past other ponies and into an empty space. The air here was warmer and smelled of the pine forests on the surface. She was placed gently on a bed of soft branches, more warmth radiating from the body that lay next to her. There was a murmured conversation, the words indistinct, then one of her parents left. Magic tingled, washing over her from muzzle to tail root. "Don't worry my little foal; you are safe now," Spiral whispered, her lips brushing Random's ears. "There are no more horrors waiting for you, no evil machines to poison your dreams. I have set you free." The words made Random tense all over, but no pain came. The Masters only did it for my own good. "Y-yes, my dam". You have taken away the only certainty in my life and made yourself the enemy of the People. Another bout of sobs wracked her, but she made no effort to halt them. Spiral moved a little closer, spreading one wing over her body. "They have treated you poorly, my little foal. Rest, rest and sleep. I will watch over you." A subtle flicker of green magic filled the small chamber, and Random felt all the emotions, all the stress, drain away as she fell towards sleep. I will deliver you all to my Masters, so you can see how badly Fusion has misled you. === Fusion's half-sided shadow sight showed a mass of activity underground. Hundreds upon hundreds of little lights, each marking the magic of a pony or gryphon, bunched and swirled in chambers far too small for comfort. Other glows marked the continuation of Scalar's tunnelling plans, now massively accelerated by the influx of new ponies; a continuous conveyor-belt of magic that ate away at the rock as fast as a pony could walk. Many of the helpers were from the Naraka group; although some were practically untrained, far more had been experts at their special talent and had lost little skill in the time they had been locked away. Can't improve the breed without selecting the best, Fusion thought, her ears briefly flicking back. "You'll need to talk to them soon," Backdraft said, her eyes shut as she watched the same scene. "They are starting to ask questions." She lifted her head and opened her eyes, turning to stare at Fusion. "Then there are the gryphons." "Ellisif will control them and without weapons they are no match for anypony. I want to let the Naraka ponies sleep without the Blessing, first. This has been very stressful for everypony. I've not dared see my sire or any of the other older ponies in the corral since..." She paused, wings sagging a little. "...you've talked to them -- what will they do?" Am I going to have to hold them captive? How? Her thoughts turned to the piles of scavenged equipment, currently being stripped of any dog-controlled overrides, and the collection of thaumic suppressors they contained. We don't have enough if they all decide to leave. A nasty idea settled in her mind and she shook her head, but it wouldn't be dislodged. "That youngster, Lilac, that Gravity rescued, was sharing everything he could, and he's been showing anypony who will give him a second of time everything he saw. If that was your idea, it was a stroke of genius." Fusion shook her head. "No? Well, young as he is, with those scars... some of the corral may hate you right now as the instigator of all this, but the truth of what was happening at Naraka was a shock, especially without the Maker--" Backdraft narrowed her eyes, nearly spitting the next few words. "--without the Blessing to guide a mind to the right conclusions. Their friends and all their foals are here; it would take a brave pony to leave the only certainty they have left." "All except Helium. My sire already thinks I'd be better off dead." Fusion sighed, gently pawing through the leaf litter under the dense pine canopy. "I hope you are right. I thought I was ready for the reactions, I mean, what with Packet--" She froze, glancing sideways at Backdraft. "Packet Switcher," the other mare said slowly. "The same Packet who had an in-flight accident the night after Salrath visited our corral." Her tone became sharper, and she looked at Fusion as if seeing her for the first time. "I think I should have that full explanation, right now." "Yes," Fusion whispered. "I haven't spoken to Packet since then. He found me while I was waiting for Spiral. I couldn't let him go, so I took his Blessing and hoped..." She swallowed, staring at the ground between her hooves. "He was my friend and I had to hurt him to keep myself safe." Backdraft snorted. "I am surrounded by foals, even when they are as tall as I am. The world doesn't always revolve around you, my young filly! I sincerely doubt you did all of this just for you." She stretched her remaining wing, then her horn glowed as she picked up Fusion's collection of little boxes. "...and carrying these things around is morbid. I want to talk to Packet." She walked off with the air of a pony who expected to be followed, and, despite the dread filling her belly, Fusion did so. === The armoured belly of the attack carrier -- nothing so subtle as an airtruck for the Strategist -- was a womb-like space: dim, low-ceilinged and warm. This was no plushly-appointed Synod-inspired conference room, but a real military vessel, and the only concessions to comfort were the oversized couches, big enough to hold a trooper in powered armour, if need be. Orgon settled back, listening to the sound of the ducted fans spooling up from a low, distant thunder to an irritating insect-whine. His restraints fastened -- a process more painful than it should have been, and leaving the Strategist wishing he'd not sent Merlon away so soon -- Faula fastened her own and signalled to the pilots. A surge of acceleration later, enough to make him sink into the padding, and they were airborne. The pain didn't stop there; the pilot was obviously aware of what the servitor had done to everything above the horizon and was putting his nap-of-the-earth training to good use. What should have been a smooth flight was a disorienting collection of swerves and altitude changes, and Orgon was glad the carrier had no windows. Tightening his restraints until it was an effort to breathe, he opened a link to the World Court, waiting as the hardware at each end validated his aircraft's codes. Finally there was a response, and the circled-luna symbol of the Court vanished to show the inside of a conference room; long and narrow, it was obviously on an aircraft of some description. If that's a standard suborbital... Orgon suppressed a smile; everyone in the cabin was strapped-in and there was a certain amount of debris on the floor. Periodically, everyone would sway sideways, with pained expressions on some faces, along with a distinct hint of motion sickness on others. "This one is Strategist Orgon; he will be your primary contact." Orgon raised a paw in greeting, then nodded at the closest figure. "Auditor Kosigan, Orgon will provide his full cooperation during your investigation. This one regrets it has come to this, but Lacunae--" "That will be a first," Kosigan hissed, wincing as his aircraft made a particularly violent manoeuvre. He was a mottled dark grey and large for one of the People, with the characteristic heavy jaw of Baur Hive natives. "Tell this one why Orgon and the rest of his Synod shouldn't be trawled the instant Kosigan has the hardware on the ground." Because Lacunae is at war; removing its heads of state is unlikely to go smoothly. The briefing may be correct... Kosigan has self-control issues. Orgon nodded and smiled gently. "The Auditor could request this, but that would take time and a memory trawl is a complex process... especially if the interrogation team does not know the correct questions to ask." They would also need to open the rest of the negotiations with the Hammer. Kosigan snarled something indistinct, his ears folding back against the sides of his skull, but a few of the other Auditors rolled their eyes. "Be sensible, Kosigan," Rthys, a female whose file said she'd come from Soro Hive, said. "It seems unlikely that Lacunae would start a war by incinerating everyone's -- including their own -- orbital assets, and then do nothing to follow up on the initial attack. Although--" Here she turned her gaze on Orgon, bright green eyes glinting like emeralds. "--there will have to be reparations and punishments for this incident. At the last count there were..." She glanced down at her bracer, then shook her head. "...over ten thousand deaths. We require that the individual who gave the order to be handed over upon our arrival." "Strategist Faungo died during the attack." Orgon gave a minute shrug, all his restraints would allow. "The Court is welcome to inspect all the data we have to confirm this, but should recognise that the majority of the aircraft involved were totally destroyed. Incidentally, this one suggests the Auditors should get on the ground as fast as possible; Orgon cannot guarantee their safety." "If that is an attempt at a threat, know that--" Kosigan started, cutting off when Orgon laughed. "Lacunae is in the throes of a servitor rebellion; at least a thousand are without any form of obedience conditioning." Orgon let that statement hang in the air, enjoying the expressions of shock. "Baur has accused us of building a super weapon, and we did, after a fashion... but it was an accident and it is now trying to free the rest of its kind." Orgon grunted as the carrier made a particularly sharp manoeuvre. "The rogues have access to enormous destructive power and can move unchallenged. This--" He made a show of manipulating his console's controls, sending a carefully prepared data packet to the other aircraft. "--contains all Lacunae knows about these events." "Orgon makes it sound like he wants the Court's involvement," Rthys said, her tone distracted and her eyes focused on a screen undoubtedly displaying the information he'd just sent. "He does. Lacunae needs the Court's help in locating and destroying the herd of rogue servitors. Lacunae needs the Hammer." === The chamber set aside as a medical bay was far larger than required for the dozen ponies that occupied it. Trocar was in attendance, busy working on Gravity. The two were having a whispered conversation that verged on argument; Trocar, despite being significantly larger than Gravity, cringed at something she said, his ears drooping. The focused anger in Gravity's face faded and she said something that made him relax and nod. Stop delaying the inevitable! Fusion thought, then sighed and continued after Backdraft, entering one of the smaller isolation chambers that lined one side. Deep in the rock, past a bend in the passageway that helped cut down the sounds from outside, it was closer to a cell than the light, airy stalls of the corral's infirmary. Packet lay in the middle on a bed of pine boughs, legs held rigid by a light plastic armature. He was asleep, but looked terrible, with dusty, matted fur that had been too long between brushes. His forelegs were the worst. Spiral or some other medic had fixed the bones, but obviously left the soft-tissue injuries; missing half their fur, and covered with black and yellow bruises, they looked like they were rotten. "The sooner he can take care of himself, the better, I think," Backdraft said, her horn glowing as she inspected Packet. "This is where the Blessing resides?" An image of the stallion's skull appeared, free-floating, centred on a dark spot at the base of his horn. Fusion nodded; it was much smaller than she remembered and already filled with regrown crystals. "I should have come back sooner," Fusion said, dropping to her knees and running the tip of her muzzle down the length of his neck, "but there was never any time. I've... we've been galloping from crisis to crisis." "I told you, I've seen our master's response to any act of rebellion... I can understand why they cannot give us any peace." Backdraft rooted through the small stash of supplies in one corner, coming back with a soft-haired brush and a set of preening tongs. "Start talking," she said, passing the brush to Fusion, "I know a little medicine, so I can wake him up when you are done... then we can both talk to him." Her horn flickered softly, waxing and waning in a rhythm a little out of step with the motions of the cleaning tools. Fusion nodded jerkily and swept the brush along Packet's neck and back in long, slow strokes. "You know some of this, but... it all started at the Institute; my master, Academician Vanca, was researching magic at the highest energy levels by watching the interaction of a particle beam with... me." Loose hair and dust drifted away in clouds, constrained by gentle telekinesis. "She pushed too hard and I got hurt." Fusion paused, cleaning the brush. "It should have killed me -- Vanca had killed at least one other pony in the accelerator before me -- but I was lucky, I suppose, and it only stripped me of my Blessing." "Think about that for a moment," Fusion said, applying the brush with a circular motion and dislodging little puffs of underfur, "I was having thoughts I'd never been allowed before; thoughts I knew, knew were utterly wrong and evil. For a while I thought I was mad and I hoped all those bad thoughts would go away and I'd see what was right... but the more I saw with an unfettered mind, the more obvious and horrible our situation became." She paused, the motion of the brush stilled, and her ears drooped and her head dipped. "That's the trouble with having an analytical mind; when you have enough evidence there is no room for hope." "With nopony to talk to... that must have been a tough time," Backdraft said, her horn still flickering with that slightly distracting cadence. She was working the tongs in between Packet's feathers, separating the fibres and pulling out rock dust and accumulated hairs. "Yes. I nearly reported for euthanization. Not sure what Spiral would have done... probably reported me, and I’d have vanished into Naraka for good." Fusion smiled, little more than the slightest twitch. "But I didn't. Still not sure if it was the right decision, but it's too late now." The smile vanished and her voice trembled. "Can't stop, have to gallop full-tilt into a blood-soaked and fire-filled future, praying to a Maker that I'm sure is a lie that I don't trip and kill us all." "Talk, Fusion. I'm sure a sharing will be more useful for the details, but for now just talk. I remember feeling the thaumic backlash from the training centre, just before they took all our foals. Start from there." "Well, I think it must have been felt a long way, because the next thing that happened was we had gryphon troopers dropping from the sky..." Fusion kept talking, not looking at Backdraft and her hornlight, but with all her attention in the mundane task of grooming. At the end her voice was rough and dry, scarcely more than a whisper. "...I've not had a chance to talk to Gravity yet, but it was pretty obvious she used the nuke on part of Arclight, then destroyed the one holding me." Fusion swallowed and cleared her throat, voice getting stronger. "So here we are." She blinked, really looking at Backdraft for the first time since she started talking. The other mare's horn was still glowing, even though she'd stopped using the preening tongs some time ago. Her magic, appearing as delicate gossamer in the shadow world, extended into a mesh that moved through Packet's head. "What are you doing, Backdraft?" "Keeping Packet at the edge of wakefulness. I thought it would be easier if he didn't try to fight his way out. He probably thought he was dreaming for most of it, didn't you Packet?" Fusion blinked in confusion as the magic disappeared and the yellow stallion stirred, his eyes fluttering and mouth opening wide in a yawn. "But that means he's heard..." "Everything," the stallion rasped, then coughed and snorted, blowing little drops of mucus across the room. His jaw worked and he swallowed, dipping his muzzle gratefully into a bowl of water Backdraft proffered. Still drinking, he looked over at Fusion, his ears folding back. "You could have killed me," he said, between deep swallows. "I--" Fusion inhaled deeply, cringing away from his stare. "Yes," she said in a small voice, "Spiral was right with us and she started work immediately, but you could have died. I wish--" She turned away, head lowered. "I wish I could take it all back, wish I could undo everything, but I still can't see what else I could have done. Perhaps we could have just drugged you, but what if somepony had checked?" "My dam would have," Packet said reluctantly. "But that's not what I meant. I know you and Gravity have killed some of our masters, so killing a pony would be nothing by comparison." "That's not true!" "Isn't it? How many masters have you killed by now? How many were in that fleet of aircraft you mentioned?" His voice rose to a shout, and Backdraft's horn glowed once more, creating a barrier across the entrance to the room. Ears still back, he turned to look at her. "What, still a prisoner, am I?" "Stop being such a foal, Packet Switcher!" Backdraft snapped, ignoring his threatening stare. "You are still alive and your legs are healing. Do you want to be drugged again, and then nursed and cleaned like a newborn?" "There wasn't much cleaning going on, by the looks of things!" He tossed his head, indicating the small drift of loose hair, then flicked around to stare at Fusion. "You killed so many of them -- were they all a threat, even the ones so far away?" "I..." Fusion's mind went blank and her mouth moved but no words came out. I did just what the dogs would do, killing without thought or restraint or offering a chance to surrender. She swallowed hard, feeling the room start to sway. I burned them like ants in the feedstock bunker. "I don't know. It was just so easy... Gravity was missing -- for all I knew she was dead -- and they were trying to burn everypony in Naraka. I could have just destroyed the heliostat, but..." Fusion chewed at her lips, then took a deep breath. "It might have worked, but there were other satellites, and I didn't know what else might have targeted us next. Perhaps something faster that I couldn't stop." She shook her head, hard, calming a little. "No. I had a thousand ponies and gryphons under Naraka and the sky was filled with the dogs’ weapons. I just turned one of their own against them." "You did all that 'just in case'..." Packet's tone quieted, some of the anger replaced by bewilderment. "...so why did you take the chance to leave me alive?" "You were my friend," she said softly, "I still want you to be... I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, but will you at least promise to think about working with us?" "And what will you do if I try and leave?" "You don't know where we are. If... if you really want to go, then I'll take you home." Tears glimmered in her eyes, making the world swim and distort. "It will be your death, but I won't try and hold you here." "But you could," he said slowly. "Yes. There's nothing anypony here can do to stop Gravity and I. I... I really don't want to hurt anypony, but I have so many to look after now. I can't let one life threaten all of this. I think the dogs will kill us all, if they can." Fusion met his gaze for a moment, then let her head droop again. "They'll kill all of you, but my sister and I will probably survive." Then Gravity will kill as many of them as she can in return... Fusion's tears dried up and she blinked away the residual moisture. ...and I will help her do it. "Well? What do you want to do?" "You say it was all the names on the walls of the Church that convinced you." The words were said flatly, with the air of one making a definitive statement. Fusion nodded, keeping silent. "How many names, do you think? A thousand? Ten thousand? I know the Church isn't that old; my dam said she remembers when they removed a whole wall of the names, replacing the carved stones with blank ones." "It's true," Backdraft said, nodding at Fusion's shocked expression. "They ran out of space." "More, then. Perhaps many more. All those ponies, without even a name left behind." He shivered, the motion making the armatures holding his injured legs rattle. "That's not right," he said, the words seemingly dragged from him with great reluctance, then inhaled deeply and sighed, rubbing one side of his muzzle against a joint in his armatures. "Okay, I'll help. How much longer do I have to wear these things?" === There was no protected space really large enough for Fusion to talk to all the Naraka ponies. Scalar's tunnel system design was based around a parallel network of arched tunnels running under the mountains, connected together by shorter sections that acted as individual 'rooms'. Perhaps five body lengths across and three high, the walls and floor were glassy-smooth, still retaining the deep chill of the energy-draining magic used to power the mining operation. She'd picked the main connecting passage -- it was away from the ongoing efforts to expand their new home -- but even that was not large enough. Ponies were packed into side passages and chambers; those without direct line-of-sight would be watching via images thrown up by Metal Matrix and a few of the others from her own corral. There were a few gryphons present, clustered on one side, easily seen by the patches of clear space around them. "Are you sure you don't want to...?" Fusion said, her ears drooping as she swept the crowd with her shadow sight. The real view was blocked by a platform of large rock cubes, ready for her announcements. Gravity snorted and shook her head. "Oh no. This is all yours. You're the pony who pulled them out; they don't know me at all." She twisted, looking back along the patchy fur of her flanks. There were regular lines of dark skin crisscrossing her sides, making it look like she'd been sectioned for butchery. The burns, a side effect of thermal leakage between the plates of her armour, were all healed, but the fur would be megaseconds regrowing. "Besides, you're the prettiest at the moment." "They need to know you." And I'm not doing this by myself. "You've faced down whole dog war-fleets, so I'm sure they'll forgive a few battle scars." Fusion's throat was dry, and her legs twitched with the urge to run away. Funny how much harder this is without some immediate danger. The preparations she'd made for this speech seemed woefully inadequate and she desperately wanted to talk to them in smaller groups, but there was just no time to be subtle. Even if my whole corral was with me, these Naraka ponies out-number us five to one. "This is going to hurt them." Backdraft, standing with Ellisif, snorted. "They need to know. If you don't do this, then the rumours I've been hearing through the night will multiply into something really nasty, and you'll likely end up hurting somepony to maintain control." Between the mare and the gryphoness stood Korn; there was a wild look of panic in his eyes and he shook all over, only held up by the subtle glow of Backdraft's magic. "Even I can't stop all these ponies, if they are going to panic and flee." So I'm going to take the pain that I'm going to cause them, the revelations about their stolen and dissected foals, and use it to bend them to our cause... Something twisted in Fusion's gut, leaving a foul taste at the back of her throat. Fusion looked at Korn uneasily; as her secret weapon in this debate, revelation, argument, or whatever it would turn out to be, he was looking distinctly fragile. She blocked Backdraft's telekinesis, allowing the dog to slump to the smooth stone floor, then took a step forwards and knelt at his side. "Student Korn, we've already had this discussion. You have the chance to save nearly a thousand lives," she said softly, eyes fixed on his. "These ponies have lost much at the paws of your people... this is your chance to pay back some of that debt. I know you were shocked by what we found." Korn made a quiet whine at the back of his throat. "This one had nothing to do with Naraka, the programs there are secret. If he'd known..." He held his paws against the sides of his muzzle, blunt claws making dents in the thin flesh. "He could have guessed, all the published research pointed towards a high turnover of servitors--" Teeth snapped shut on the word, and he looked back at Fusion in dread. She sighed, shifting slightly. "It's just a word, Korn, but I'd try and stop using it, if I were you. In any case, I hardly think you would have fought against your entire world." The muttering from the crowd was getting louder, and she cocked an ear in that direction to try and pick out any individual words. "Still, I believe you. Of all the masters I had, you were the most sympathetic. I know you saved my life, back when Vanca would have burned me to a shadow." Standing up, she gently pulled him upright. A little of the fear seemed to have left his eyes, and he no longer needed to be held. "They deserve to know what was done to their foals, Korn. Will you be able to talk to them, to confirm what I will say?" "T-this one will try," he muttered, "this one is dead to his old life, in any case." Fusion nodded, then turned to Backdraft. "If this all goes horribly wrong, I want you to take Korn somewhere safe. I will cover your retreat." The mare nodded, horn glowing faintly with magic a bare twitch away from being real. "Ellisif, the same goes for you. Keep your people out of this." "Don't worry, your little teleport trick scared the guano out of all of them. It's been a very subdued night." The gryphoness cocked her head, looking at Fusion with bright, yellow eyes. "I will stand with you... they should know that we are in this together." Fusion nodded, then turned to the wall of large blocks placed to act as a podium. Gravity moved to stand next to her, muzzle twisted in a brief, humourless grin. "Right," she said, glancing at Ellisif, "let's do this. I've got a war to get back to." === Katabatic's ears twitched and her nostrils flared, trying to sort some familiarity from the mass of ponies that surrounded her. She only really knew a pawful of those present -- the few from her own little sub-herd -- and none were within range of her nose or ears. Her colt twitched against her side, pressing close while staring wide-eyed at the melange of flanks and wings that blocked his view of the larger world. I must think of a name for you, Katabatic thought. There'd been none of the normal tests, but the foal was likely to follow her own speciality of weather manipulation. It's a shame I never met his sire; without knowing what he was good at... She chewed at the inside of her mouth, then sighed. The meeting that had produced her colt had been a cold and brief affair, the fine tube almost unfelt as it vanished under her tail, and only a little more invasive than the regular battery of medical tests she was subjected to. Dim memories of her pathfinding, accompanied by images of her parents, intruded, and Katabatic half smiled at the pride in their voices when she'd told them the results. I wish I could see my sire and dam-- She clamped down on the thought, but there was no lash from the Maker, only a gentle wistfulness. That medic pony has stopped me from hearing the Maker, Katabatic thought, but the outrage she felt was a pale shadow of what she thought it should have been. There'd been whispered conversations, endless circular things reaching deep into the night, on that subject -- and others, far more terrible -- already. Katabatic turned the thoughts away, focusing back on the most important subject she had. Something to do with the weather, or the sky. He moved against her flank, twisting without ever losing fur-on-fur contact, until he could poke his head between her hind legs. A soft, tiny muzzle worked its way along her belly, hunting for the nipple, and she moved one leg instinctively to help. A dopy smile drifted across her face, and she looked down at his rump, complete with stubby tail only slightly longer than his dock. The fur was dark, far darker than her own brown-and-white skewbald, while still retaining the patchy colours. Black and grey, she thought, like a distant storm cloud. "Thunder," she murmured. "Hello, Thunder." He moved, reacting to the vibrations of her voice transmitted through her bones, but didn't stop suckling. "You'll know your name soon enough... and now I'll have enough time to know you properly." The words of the Master, spoken in tones of great emotion, were as clear as if he'd said them only a second ago, and she clung to them with all her strength. The babble of conversations abruptly became louder and Katabatic looked up, seeing the white pony that had removed them from Naraka jump onto a block of stone at the far end of the cavern. At her side were a dusky blue mare, barely fully grown, and a gryphon, her grey plumage almost invisible against the rock. Magic bloomed, the polychromatic hue of multiple spellcasters, and magnified images of the group, three times life-size, popped into reality. One of these was directly above the improvised podium, and the white mare flinched at the sudden sight of it. The motion was faithfully replicated on every giant copy, and laughter rippled through the herd. Then she smiled nervously, ears flicking back and forth, then jumped again and whinnied sharply when the blue one trailed a primary feather down her flank. The sound came with the motion, echoing from the rocky walls, oddly distorted by the multiple spell points. Katabatic laughed along with the rest, slightly guiltily. Thunder moved from his position at the sudden ripples along her belly, turning to poke his head out from under her wing. She dipped her head, brushing muzzles with the colt, but never took her eyes from the stage. "Thank you for that introduction, Gravity," the mare said with a slightly exasperated tone. There seemed to be no real anger there; if anything she had lost her nervous, near-panicked look. "My name is Fusion Pulse, and this is my sister, Gravity Resonance," she said, flicking the blue pony on the side of the head with one wingtip, "and Ellisif, a gryphoness from Lacunae Hive Security." The creature, all sharp points and fierce, glaring eyes, nodded when her name was mentioned, a sudden motion that made the big muscles in Katabatic's legs twitch. But why are we here... and where are the Masters? She shook herself, earning a quiet nicker of displeasure from Thunder, still tucked under one wing, because Fusion was still talking. "...this is going to be hard for all of you, but I hope you will try to understand. Of everypony here you have suffered the most..." "Suffered, I don't understan--" Katabatic muttered, then her jaw clamped shut, a sudden panic making her tense. All around, ponies were looking at each other uncertainly, filling the air with the shuffle of thousands of hooves. Where did my filly go? Her wing clamped down on Thunder, making him squirm. "...there's no easy way to tell you, no way to soften the blow--" Fusion gave a pained smile. "--only to say that we won't let it happen to any more foals and their dams." She took a deep breath, and it seemed that everypony held theirs, such was the sudden silence that fell across the herd. "You... we have been lied to. We have been shackled into a machine that neither knows nor cares about our suffering. We are components in that machine, and it takes us in and grinds us up until there is nothing left. Worse, we bring our foals into the world and feed them into the maw of the machine, to replace us when we are gone because we were told that it is the will of the Maker." The rumble of hundreds of conversations came back, only this time there was a sharp edge of anger to the indistinct words. Tears started to trickle down Katabatic's cheeks. She's gone. She's gone. The thoughts spun in her mind, wrapped up in a memory of soft fur and endless curiosity. They took her and she's gone. At her side, Thunder huddled closer, cowed by the threatening sound. "That sounds poetic, but it is not a metaphor. I- I have been asked what has happened to the foals you all bore while at Naraka." Fusion bowed her head, throat pulsing as she swallowed heavily, then looked up, gaze hardening and becoming distant, as if reading from a script. "Naraka is a centre for biological research, specifically relating to pony and gryphon eugenics. You were the subject of research into how our magic develops and why certain ponies develop certain classes of magic and not others." Fusion smiled, a bitter thing that didn't reach her eyes. "We might be more useful if our masters could control the numbers of ponies whose special talents were in matter manipulation, rather than weather control, for example." Katabatic's ears snapped back and she struck out mindlessly fore and aft with all four legs, sending her nearest neighbours in the crowd dancing back out of range. "Tell us," she shrieked at the top of her voice, "stop hiding behind those words and tell us what has happened to our foals!" Magic from multiple sources reached out to hold her still, but she fought it, her own power flaring in undirected blasts of telekinesis that jumped in strength with each passing moment. Thunder huddled, silent and trembling, against her side before being bowled over by an errant hoof. There was a high-pitched neigh, instantly recognizable even in the general commotion, coupled with the horrible feeling of striking something soft. Thought stopped and Katabatic froze, muscles locking solid and magic pulling out from its exponential death-climb. "No," she moaned, "Thunder, I didn't mean--" There was movement and a rush of feathers and air as Fusion dropped down beside her, bringing warmth and light, the buttery richness of a summer's morning. Silence spread at the touch of her power, rippling out into the surrounding herd. Katabatic hung limp in the combined fields of a dozen ponies, only her eyes moving as she searched for her foal, vanished somewhere in the herd. "I'm so sorry," Fusion said, ears drooping and tears trickling down her muzzle. "Any other foals you had while at Naraka are dead." A dark-furred shape nosed out of the herd, encouraged by little nuzzled pushes from the surrounding ponies. Hesitant at first, he rushed over, skirting around Fusion to press himself against Katabatic's flank as she was allowed to slump to the ground. "How many foals have you borne?" Katabatic opened her mouth but remained silent, folding herself around Thunder. "Just one, before Thunder. A filly--" She sobbed, a great gasping breath. "I know other mares have had many more. The Masters keep us pregnant... as soon as you foal they inseminate you again." Fusion let out a quiet nicker. "I can't bring them back, but I can stop it from happening to others." She leaned forwards, laying a white wing across Katabatic's back. The still-active imaging magic had followed her, and faithfully replicated every movement. "How do you know?" Katabatic whispered, muzzle buried in Thunder's fur. "How can you be so sure, the Masters would never--" She moaned, the final memories of her filly, walking away without a care in the world, closing her throat and making speech impossible. Where did they take you? I always dreamed you were in a corral like the one I grew up in, out in the light and air. "I have proof," Fusion said softly, "the Masters kept the parts of us they found most useful in a sort of tissue bank." She lifted her head and nodded, then the repeater images flickered as one to show the inside of a chamber containing pony-shaped metal armatures circling a medical machine, then changed again to show another room stacked high with slate-grey boxes. Another change and one of the boxes was opened, revealing a globe of liquid holding something instantly recognisable: the horn of a young pony, complete with a little disk of bone and fur. "I don't believe it; you have invented this horror -- why would you do this to us?" Katabatic's voice was broken and distorted, and barely intelligible. She shook her head violently, eyes never leaving the images. Fusion closed her eyes. "It is one of my memories from part of Naraka, and not the worst ones. I brought some of the... the remains back, so we could send them on as is only right." Her jaw muscles rippled, standing out starkly beneath her fur. "Backdraft? I think it's time," she called out. At the other end of the cavern, a Master climbed onto the improvised stage, looking small and lost between the gryphoness and a green pony with a missing wing. The imaging spells, still active, switched to the Master. He was young, with mottled black and grey fur, and seemed to be in some sort of a trance, his eyes staring out over the herd like he was alone. The breath caught in Katabatic's throat as he bent down and picked up a grey box. "Th-this one has been asked to confirm Fusion Pulse's story. It is true, all of it." His paws fumbled with the catches on the lip of the container, the rattling of his trembling claws against the metal surface reproduced clearly and echoing over the silent herd. The Master stared down into the open box, throat working but no sound emerging. His face abruptly went slack, eyes vacant and fixed on some scene that was only visible inside his head "There is still the question of why, and in this Korn believes that Fusion is incorrect" The fear had gone from the Master's voice and it had become dry and detached, like he was lecturing to a crowd at some university conference. At Katabatic's side, Fusion became very still, even the constant, hypnotic motion of her mane slowing. The muscles of her haunches bunched, and there was a sudden, terrible feeling of power a hairs-breadth from release. "This one has not worked in Naraka, but it is not reasonable that these samples are just being kept for future research into the nature of servitor magic development." He placed the case on the floor and knelt down. Ears drooping, he gently reached in and withdrew a foal-sized horn. "Korn has wondered about this for some time. Now that he has seen the containment systems it starts to make sense. It is clear that they were designed so that the horn material was kept operational... and the neural activation pathways for magic are well known. He thinks that this is the first step in replacing servitors with a purely electrothaumic system." He placed the horn on the floor, opening a second box and pulling out another horn, placing it next to the first. "As yet, there is no technology to grow servitor horns in vitro, so they would have to be sourced from living subjects. What these ones have lived through at Naraka would become the global norm." Still kneeling he looked up at the rocky ceiling, tears glinting in his eyes. "Even the limited freedoms ponies enjoy would be taken away." "The next step is obvious," Korn said. "The research would continue until even mares and foals were no longer needed. It might take a gigasecond or more, but there will be no more ponies, anywhere." A stunned silence filled the cavern, then an unidentified stallion shouted: "What will happen to us? I have served the Masters all my life." There was disbelief and more than a little anger in his voice. Korn stood and stared out over the herd, his mouth opening and closing like a gaffed fish. "Korn would have thought the answer obvious. There would be no need for any ponies, just tissue cultures." His voice became quieter, sinking down to a whisper. It made no difference; the magic compensated and kept the amplified volume the same. "This one imagines that servitors would be euthanized as their roles were supplanted." === That makes a horrible sense, Fusion thought. Why didn’t you mention this before, Korn? The answer was obvious; the look on his face was one she'd seen before, that of a scientist suddenly seeing an answer in a mess of confusing data. "But that's not fair," Katabatic murmured, switching her gaze to Fusion. Fusion tried to breathe normally, but calm wouldn't come. They really won't have any need for us. The World Court limits our numbers because of some perception of risk... with a replacement that was safe and reliable they would be able to kill us all no matter what I do. The gentle glow radiating from her body shifted from the soft tones of dawn and towards the hard glare of noon, and she did nothing to try and stop it. "No, it's not," she said tightly, "but it never was." Magic flashed somewhere in the crowd, propelling a rock fragment towards the stage. Backdraft's green force field flicked on and shunted it aside, but more rocks quickly followed. More spells, these with some actual power and thought behind them, appeared in the air and joined the missiles. The temperature in the cavern jumped and there was a surge of motion towards the stage. Gravity abruptly stepped forwards, placing herself between Korn and the herd. Hazy fields of violet light shrouded those behind her, bending the now constant rain of thrown rocks away into a floating cloud. Esoteric forces, only visible through shadow sight, clamped down on the more sophisticated magics. Gravity reared, wings flaring, and brought her hooves down onto the rock with a stunning crack that echoed off the rocky walls. The air temperature dropped precipitously and darkness congealed from the corners, flowing out into the herd to quench the hornlights of those nearest to her, until the only colour left was a coruscating violet halo around her body. "Enough!" she roared, loud enough that the rumble of low frequencies made Fusion's chest vibrate. "Take that anger and do something useful with it!" Fusion leapt into the air, providing a bright and warm counterpoint to Gravity's darkness. "That one dog is not at fault for all of this. He is part of a malformed system that treats us as disposable components and trains us to accept this state of affairs." She inhaled deeply. "There is another way -- if we work together we can carve out a life of our own. We have too much power for the Masters, for the dogs, to stop us easily. They won't want to talk to us, but we can make them. We can teach you magic that will make you strong enough to prevail. We can make it so you have no more Masters." She locked eyes with Gravity, seeing the scepticism in her face. And if that doesn't work, we'll do it your way. Beneath her, a thousand ponies looked up, some of their helpless anger fading into hope.