Our Little Homeworld

by Horizon Runner

1.1: Princess of Wires

Author's Note:

Date: 1/21/1216 KDS. The Day Before the Jump.

Time: 6:58 P.M. Tiir/Scaffold Standard Time.

Mothership Position: Docked with Scaffold, Kharequus Geostationary Orbit.

Location: Mothership Control Room.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It is indeed, Madam Journey.”

Great Journey slowly turned her head away from the display screen that held that little brown planet—her lifelong home. Every movement brought forth pinprick tugs from the thousands of wires embedded in her pale pink coat and maneless scalp. Her eyes struggled to focus as her brain tried to separate their input from the sensors and cameras that composed her second nervous system. Two worlds flickered back and forth. Her body was her own, as it had always been, but now her skin was juxtaposed with seven kilometers of metal plating—her heart with a dozen arcane furnaces.

It was just something she’d have to get used to. Somehow.

“It's been a long path to get this far,” she said, her voice holding just the slightest tinge of humor. “And this is what we're calling the beginning." Her eyes softened, and she turned back towards the planet. "Our ancestors fled Equestria for a reason, Masterpiece. Tell me: Do you think we should really be in such a hurry?”

Masterpiece, better known as Fleet Intelligence, smiled kindly, his lips slipping easily into the patterns that they had assumed uncountable times over the course of his life. He shifted his weight with a dancer's grace as he stepped forward to stand beside her. His fire-gold mane flickered, torchlike, above his coal-black coat. His voice was even, but firm, with a slight wryness, as if he knew the truth behind every face, the meaning behind every smile. “Madam, whether we are certain of our course or not, the Daiamiid’s decision is final. We have a destiny laid out for us; it is the Goddesses’ will and the will of the people.”

Great Journey's lip twitched, but she made no comment. She closed her eyes and let the cameras take her closer, showing her the planet's darkened surface in hyperfocused detail. She could see tiny lights across the mid-northern band—the marks of sand-locked cities, still struggling on against the elements even in this age of technological triumph. She switched cameras, revealing the side of the Scaffold which held her second body like a cradle. Ponies flashed by the tiny windows, each one hurrying along at a frantic pace. One stopped, and Great Journey zoomed one of her mechanical eyes to get a better look.

A little colt stared out at her, his eyes catching the dancing embers of the Mothership’s thousand lights. A mare—perhaps his mother, or maybe just a schoolteacher—tugged lightly at his shoulder, but the colt would not budge. He pressed a hoof against the glass, and his mouth moved wordlessly, silenced by the void between.

Great Journey opened her eyes. The display, showing what she saw so that Masterpiece could follow her train of thought, switched off, becoming just another bare wall to her voluntary prison. “I am... worried,” she said. “We are so fragile up here, and we do not know what the future will bring. Equestria… our homeworld may be out among the stars, but our home is here on Kharequus. Are we truly so certain about this venture that we're willing to leave this planet behind forever?”

Masterpiece nuzzled her shoulder gently, and the unexpected contact sent a warm flush across her face. “Don’t worry, Madam,” he purred in her ear. “Ponies have always traveled across the sands, be it Manaan’s ceaseless wandering or Paktu’s great migration. We are the scions of a grand tradition of pilgrimages that stretches back to the first time ponies came to Kharequus. Ponykind made this journey once, and now we make it once more.” He pulled away, maintaining his calm smile. “I believe we have dallied long enough. The crew have reported in, and the systems are ready to initialize. I think it is time we began our final preparations. We make our first jump tomorrow morning, after all.”

Great Journey allowed a tiny smile to cross her lips. She spoke, and her voice—doubt banished and tremor quelled—echoed throughout the great ship and across the radio spectrum.

“This is Fleet Command. Confirming Mothership pre-launch status…”

Check lights flickered green, and the signals in Great Journey’s head corroborated them. Her smile widened.

“Command, online...”

The refineries in the heart of the Mothership rumbled to life, ready to process the broken down flow of matter that could be gleaned from the rocks and gases that lingered out in the black. The resource collector—a ship designed to seek out and harvest the aforementioned materials—spun up its reactor as the captain checked in.

“Resourcing, online...”

The Mothership’s colossal hangar was filled with a low hum as the manufactory slabs broke off from their berths against the inner hull and drifted into paired positions. Two of them signaled their readiness, and Journey sent them their first order—to construct the Mothership’s independent research ship.

“Construction, online...”

Deep within the ship, six massive sets of magnetic clamps tested themselves. Power conduits and regulating subsystems synchronized themselves with the Cryo Trays that hung in orbit mere kilometers away. Every one of the six hundred thousand ponies on the Trays was safely asleep, ready to be woken as soon as the Mothership reached Equestria’s orbit.

“Cryogenic subsections A through J, online... K through S, online... Scaffold control stand by for alignment.”

The Scaffold was the largest satellite above Kharequus, and its maneuvering was careful and slow. It shifted to align the Mothership with its destination: the great slash of the distant galactic core. Then, with an almost undetectable push from a hundred tiny thrusters, it halted its turn and became still. The Scaffold commander signaled in: all clear for launch.

“Alignment confirmed. Standby to release control... Release.”

The clamps grip fell away. The huge engines on the Mothership’s stern came to life in a silent flash of light and propelled the vessel away at last. Slowly, gracefully, the gigantic ship eased its way from the Scaffold’s embrace. Great Journey watched from within, and a tear rolled down her cheek as she spoke once more.

“The Mothership has cleared the Scaffold. We are away.”

Comments

[Mixolydian Grey]

His fire-gold mane, seemed like a flicering torch above his coal-black mane.

It's almost as if all of the little typos of this entire chapter congregated themselves in one sentence. xD On the bright side, you know exactly where they are and a tactical strike should eliminate them without much resistance.

There's something elegant about the way you write dialogue; I'm not quite sure how to describe it. Actually, there's something elegant about your writing in general. The diction and imagery, I think. It's a good fit to the atmosphere. If you don't finish this I will find you. (Unless your reason for not finishing it is because you were hired to write an official novelization of the game itself.)

[Horizon Runner]

5577723 Dear god, that sentence... well, at least it is only the one.

I'm glad you like the writing style. It's both something I'm proud of, and something I wish I could control better, at times. It can be a difficult balance between purple and beige.

And I promise you one thing: I will finish this. Even if it takes me the rest of my god damned life. Which it probably will.

[mastermenthe]

WOOOO!!!
HOMEWORLD FANFICTION FUCK YES!!!

[BestinDworld]

5577904 when u update?

[Lovecraftia]

The sadness... I wonder how they will react to coming back to Home and finding it completely destroyed by the enemies

I will be very sad