//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: Escaping the trap // Story: Alone in the stars // by Jeweled Pen //------------------------------// Ex gulped as he hung onto the back of one of the many drones moving along the hanger. It had taken a few minutes to override the AI to allow him to ride it, but it would last until its next cycle, at least. The drone moved to the ship pod opposite where his was stationed, before slowly turning around. His hooves tightened. Suddenly the drone raced forward, making the ponies and griffon dive aside as the drone raced through the hangar and towards his ship. He then remembered he'd forgot one important part. To tell the drone to stop. He let out an eek as the drone kept racing forward before, finally, slamming into the side of his ship. He let out a shriek as he flew off, spun once through the air, and crashed back first into the side of the ship. He laid there for a moment before gravity seemed to take hold and he slid down, crashing to the ground below. “Ow...” he said with a groan. “Get him!” a voice yelled. He shook his head. “Right! Running for life now, writhing in pain later!” he said quickly. The hatch for his ship slowly opened as a platform extended. He shook his head and slowly wobbled up the steps, his back throbbing with each step. The drone slowly picked itself back up and raced back out of the platform. He made it inside the ship and the door sealed behind him as he slowly made his way towards his pod, his heart pounding almost as bad as his back throbbed. “S-start engines,” he yelled, racing through the halls. It took him only a minute to get to the pilot's chair and he slid into it, staring out the view screen as his heart pounded harder and harder. No alarms were going off, so it seemed they weren't trying to force their way in. Yet. He leaned back and closed his eyes. A cold sensation filled his head as his ship slowly plugged back into him. He grit his teeth as he felt the wires and metals jacking into his brain. After a few minutes the world seemed to come alive as he was once again one with his ship. The pain in his body became distant as he saw and felt through his ship. There was no damage to the vessel, at least that he could sense. No one had tried to break in. That was good. He sent a request to undock as he slowly raised his landing gear. It took only a few moments before his vessel was lifted and slowly carried out through the structure. His scanners picked them up a moment later. A large griffon vessel off port side. A dominix. Looked more like a giant metal space egg. It was already locking him, but he quickly started to align to the nearest planet, readying the warp. Then a second vessel locked on and there was a small fizzle as a beam of magic enshrouded his ship, knocking the warp off. He was jammed. A frigate, zooming around his ship so fast he could barely see it. The station was shooting at it now, but the ship was moving so fast it had no real effect. He started locking both vessels, not that it would do much. That was a battleship, his drones weren't made for picking off something like that and if he tried sending his drones after the smaller ship, they'd likely be picked off by the giant metal egg. He had one idea to deal with the smaller ship, but he didn't know how long he'd last if he started trying it. Comms opened and a moment later the griffon from the bar appeared on his screen. He was trapped, they both knew it. He desperately searched for some way to throw the larger vessel off as he stared at her. “Sorry about the hoof to the face.” “My own fault, really,” the griffon said with a chuckle. She was jacked into her ship the same way he was. “Are you going to make this easy?” “Probably not. I assume you're the one in the big egg?” “Of course. You wanna try to crack it?” she said in a teasing tone. He was now locked onto both, not that it would do any good. “Not much point, is there? My ship can't take yours. Probably have a lot more in station, too.” “Smart, for a pony. How about you power down and surrender? Make this easy?” He took a deep breath before chuckling. “How much are they paying you for this? What's my bounty at now?” “Ten mil.” He frowned. “Really? That's disappointing.” “And we get to keep the ship.” “Ah. That's... less disappointing.” He smiled none the less. “How about this? I give you five million, we call it a day? A lot less dangerous.” “Or I could just blow you up here and now?” she countered, cocking an eye. He gulped and decided to gamble. “That's not really an option, is it?” His ship was moving at a snails pace, the frigate had him webbed as well it seemed. He hated small ships. “You'd have torn me apart by now. They want me alive, don't they?” He started mentally crafting his backup plan. It was a bit stupid, dangerous and just plain reckless, but it was all he could do at this point. The griffon sighed. “Indeed. Now you can't go anywhere, so how about you just pop out of my new ship, I'll scoop you up and we can get this over with?” He mentally sent out his plan, sending the messages out quickly. “You know I can't do that.” His ship shuddered and he let out a yelp. “W-what are you doing? You fired on me! I thought you wanted this ship!” Panic started flooding him. “Well, obviously,” the griffon said with a chuckle. “I kind of lied. You see, I'll get one of those fancy ships either way. But I also get to keep whatever I loot. I figured I could get two, but ten mil, whatever I can salvage and one ship instead of two is still pretty good.” The dominix lit up on his screen a second later as more bullets struck his shield. He gulped. “Y-you'll... you'll kill me, too.” He eyed the frigate, was it time? No, if he did it now, they'd realize what he was doing. He wouldn't get a second chance. But he mightn to even get a first chance now. “You're a podder. We already have your clone surrounded with a few of my boys. If you don't survive this... well, we get a second chance.” There was another shudder as his shields went down. He sped up as fast as his crippled ship could go, aimed towards the planet. “You going to give up, or not?” “Not a chance!” he yelled at the screen. He activated his defenses as the next volley struck his armor plating. The nanomachines across the hull instantly went into action, repairing the damage, but he knew it wouldn't hold forever. That ship of hers was designed for combat. His was designed for exploration. It couldn't win a one on one fight against something like that. “I could pay you? More than five mil?” “Oh? How much?” “I can't match theirs, but I have—” “Can't match it, not interested,” the griffon said with a dismissive wave as the next blast tore into his armor again. His repairer was working its hardest, but this ship wasn't designed for prolonged combat. Then he grinned. “About time.” “Huh?” the griffon said, before her eyes widened. Five ships had just entered the system. “What in tartarus?” He gave a soft little giggle. “You're right, I can't escape. I won't get away... but I can make sure you don't get what you want, either.” “What?” Three more ships entered the system and he didn't need to focus on his scans to know they were all already on their way. “I sent out my position, along with the bounty, to every ship in the region. A mass 'come and buck me' sign,” he said with an almost manic grin. Ships were starting to undock as well. He cringed as another volley of rail gun bullets slammed into his ship. “I may have to accept being captured. But at least I can make it as bloody and violent as possible.” He broke the comm channel and gulped. More ships were arriving in system by the second and as the next volley struck his armor, three vessels finished their warp in. The dock was getting crowded, now. He was being locked. For a few moments there was silence and he held his breath, waiting and watching. Then a volley of fire struck the side of the dominix, repelled by the vessel's mighty shields. He grinned wider as he kept aligned to the planet. A few seconds later even more ships arrived and the firefight began. He was weak and vulnerable, the battleship was the real threat. And to his delight, more and more of them were appearing. Judging by the fire they were unleashing on each other, they weren't friendly. Unfortunately, the ship circling him still had him weak and helpless and he knew better than to try and release his drones now. They'd be popped like insects in the fight. But he had a target. He mentally aimed at the ship and unleashed the few options he had. The same telekinetic grip that allowed him to grab objects in space and store them in his cargo hold reached out and wrapped the small vessel in its grip. The ship barely slowed, still easily avoiding the station's turret. But that wasn't the goal. The magical grip began to suck the magic from the vessel, draining the magical crystals that kept it flying and recharging itself. It wasn't long before the ship began to slow as its engines sputtered, the telekinetic grip of the ship holding it back and finally allowing the station's guns to hit it. The first volley knicked it, but the second volley struck true, tearing off one of the wings and sending the vessel careening off. His systems returned, but he knew he wasn't safe yet. The other vessels hadn't seemed to notice his freedom, yet, and were too busy locking each other to focus on a helpless pilgrim. His ship began to pick up speed as he initiated his cloak, the magical energies circling his ship and beginning to make it adapt perfectly to the empty void around him. But it would take time. His engines flew into overdrive as he activated his microwarpdrive, pushing his vessel to extreme speeds and letting it zoom off ahead. He was almost to warp However, he could already see that two of the vessels were turning to block his way. They were at full speed and would cut him off before he could get into warp. The collision would knock out his cloak, but he had to keep aligned if he wanted to warp. He took a slow, deep breath as he kept racing at them. He felt the tingling sensation that let him knew that he was completely cloaked, invisible to their sensors, then turned his ship straight down, breaking his warp path. It was nearly three seconds before the ships started moving as they seemed to realize what he'd done. They fanned out, some warping off, as he flew down. They couldn't see the direction he'd gone and at his speed it would be nearly impossible for them to cover enough area to find him in time. Still, he changed his angle every few seconds to make it as difficult as possible. Finally sure that he couldn't be interrupted, he aligned himself to the nearest teleportation gate and readied his warp again, the magical crystals humming as power was gathered. He couldn't help but chuckle. Evading a griffon ship was not an easy feat. He arrived almost a hundred kilometers from the gate and saw half a dozen ships on it. He gulped nervously and aligned to the next, before warping. Then the next, and the next, and then the last. Every gate was filled with ships, looking for him. He shuddered and moved to the nearest planet, disabling his drive and flying at standard sub-warp speeds. He couldn't believe it, he was trapped. He activated autopilot and slowly the metal retracted back out of his skull. He took a deep breath and climbed out of his chair, reaching back to feel the sealed hole. “R-right. Okay, think this over. Think.” “Sir, would you like to send out another S.O.S?” Celestia asked, her automated voice echoing through the hull. “What? Oh, no. Thanks. I just need to... think,” he muttered. “Keep me on a straight path, alert me if anything comes within two hundred kilometers.” “Of course,” the voice boomed through the hull. “Sir, you're showing high levels of stress. It has been ZERO days since your last station visit and FOUR-HUNDRED SEVENTY-TWO days since you have last been planet side. Perhaps a visit to the ground would help ease your stress?” “What? NO! No no, no!” he said quickly, giving a shudder. “I don't need to go... anywhere near planets. So full of...” He shook his head again. “What food supplies do we have?” “There are TWO-HUNDRED kilograms of veggie paste in storage.” He shuddered again. “Just... make... a salad or something for me,” he muttered as he started walking through the ship. Compared to him, the ship was massive. It was designed to be piloted by dozens, sometimes even a few hundred. The magical connections and mana crystals jammed into his skull allowed him to control and manipulate the ship as if it was a part of his body, to actually live through it and use it as he willed. It allowed him to pilot the entire thing by himself. Unfortunately, even ships like this normally had a crew. Albeit, a small crew. There had only been fifteen back then. Back before they'd found that site and-- He shuddered and leaned against the wall, banging his head against it a few times. He banged it as hard as he could until finally collapsing on the ground. The dirty ground. It all had to be cleaned. There was still blood on the floor, though thank Luna the smell was gone. All of the little maintenance things that were done by the crew were stacking up. He shuddered again as he wished one of them was here. Any of them. They'd tell him what to do, where to go. They'd tell him what to fix, how to fix. He wouldn't have to think anymore, he wouldn't have to-- He started slamming his head against the wall again, hitting it hard enough that by the time he stopped, a little blood trailed down his face. “Sir? You're showing signs of mental instability. Would you like me to--” “No!” he yelled, shaking his head. “I'm fine. I just... it's over. It ended when I put the gun to my head and pulled the trigger,” he muttered, before slowly getting back to his hooves and trotting down the halls. “Warm up some water, I'm taking a shower.” “Of course, sir.” “Do NOT contact anyone or try to schedule me a meeting with a brain prober. Or a therapist. That's an order.” “Of course, sir.” He sighed and walked through the halls, his head throbbing as he made to the the bathroom. It was, fortunately, probably the only place clean. It was the only place he really knew how to clean. His masters had made sure of that. They'd made him clean it every day and he'd followed the practice religiously until his mind had finally-- He shook it this time, the throbbing in his skull the only thing stopping him from slamming it against the wall again. He tore off his bodysuit and looked in the mirror. His 'wings' were nothing more than little tiny nubs only a few inches long, not a feather on them. He couldn't even remember when they'd 'removed' them. He was pretty sure it was before the first time he'd died. They didn't hurt, though. His cloning profile had been altered, so now his clones just had stubs, no real wings. He wondered if now that he was free, he'd be able to fix that. To grow real ones. He thought back to home, watching some of the other slaves fly through the air, putting on displays for their unicorn masters. He wondered if that would have been him, if not for them deciding he was to be a pilot. “Sir? Are you okay? You may be suffering from a concussion.” “I'm fine, Celestia,” he muttered softly. “But... activate the medical drone after this. I just... need a shower. That's all.” He moved to the side of the room where a small white tub stood. He stepped into it and a small glimmer of magic formed behind him. An invisible curtain to keep the water in. Water poured down around him from all sides, an artificial rain cloud hovering over him. It was practically ice cold. He'd have to get that fixed, too. Probably something... magical. His owners would have known what it was. He shuddered and reached out, pushing on a crystal on the wall. The water drained into the floor and the magical barrier closed in around him, wiping all the water away as he passed through it. He felt better now, at least. Cold, but clean. He just wanted to curl up in his chair. But the medical bay first. He started walking out through the halls again. When he walked inside, he shuddered again. A small magical dome was the only thing clean in the room. There was blood on the floor and splattered across the walls. He really needed to get some bitz to clean it up, fix everything. So much of it was broken. So many things cracked and useless. The vessel had been designed to function for years in deep space and they'd managed to almost break the thing in a few months. He moved to the dome and laid down. “Do a scan,” he muttered. Metallic arms reached down from above, connected with all manners of tools. They poked and prodded at him for a bit before pulling back. “Sir, all vital signs are showing within reasonable parameters. However, you're showing small signs of malnutrition and--” “I'll eat something.” “High levels of stress.” “Well I can't really do anything about that,” he muttered, laying there for a few moments. He then paused. “Celesta, are you still... there?” “I am always here.” A little red filled his cheeks. “Just... brush my mane for a little bit. Please.” There was a pause before slowly one of the arms came down, a brush held in its grips. It began to slowly run through his mane. It didn't feel natural, or smooth, lacking the magical grip he was used to. But it helped, for now. He closed his eyes and rested there a moment. He could always eat later.