Verdant Song

by Mixolydian Grey

In the Shadow of Verdence, pt. VI

Theophanes had only just awoken when Eikon arrived in the chemlab habitat's medbay. After bringing Kelantos back from the command module and contenting himself with the conclusion that his patient wouldn't bleed to death, he had slept for a time while the others pursued Lennox and the escaped mare.

Kelantos rested, too. Eikon stood in the reception area of the medbay, trying to decide what to do while he waited for Kelantos to wake up, watching Theophanes sort through books and office supplies that had been scattered across the desk and floor when the ship moved. The sudden acceleration had made a mess of anything loose, throwing it all horizontally.

A number of griffons had returned to the habitat after a few hours of pursuit without any sign of Lennox. Most thought that Theophanes had been mistaken, that Lennox had died long ago. Rasmus and a handful of others had gone back to engineering to finish the hunt… they had been some of the first to break off, several hours ago. Some had even come back to Chemlab after giving up on that search as well.

Theophanes picked up a book and smoothed out the bent pages. “Are you hard of hearing?” He glanced up from the book for a moment, just to give Eikon a look that seemed to express annoyance and mild surprise.

“I heard what you said. He’s asleep. I'm just thinking.”

“Ah. And that takes so much of your concentration that you can't leave while doing so.” Theophanes carefully closed the cover and looked over the book, making sure he hadn't missed any of the bent pages, then turned and placed it back on its shelf.

“You place books as Sisyphus rolls his boulder.”

Theophanes gave a short, quick exhale, a sound not quite meeting the minimum requirements to be considered a chuckle. He turned and looked for his next book.

They were more sentimental than practical. The doctor tidied with the slow precision of a museum curator. Each book lifted from the heap had his full attention for a moment as he straightened crumpled pages and frowned at dents in the covers.

“Any idea when he'll be up and walking again?” Eikon finally asked.

“If I tell you, will you go away, or will you just ask more stupid questions?” Theophanes grumbled, flipping through the pages of another book. He sighed and closed it, then set it on the desk instead of the shelf. “What does 'up and walking about' mean? Quadrupedal? Bipedal, like the traditional dueling stance? Does flying count? How about zero-g? Each is a different question with a different answer.

“Were we on the surface of Equus, I'd say a week to leave his bed, two to wheel himself around, and maybe four to limp around. Months before it becomes easy.”

“And in zero-g?” Eikon asked.

Theophanes gave another sigh. “When will he be capable of locomotion in zero-g? Stupid question. An object in motion stays in motion…. Force equals mass times acceleration…. He can move himself now; the question is, ‘how fast?’”

“I see.”

“Is your question answered? Are you done here, now?”

Eikon shifted his stance, feeling light on his feet. “I'm curious about another thing…”

“You are more persistently annoying than any disease I know. I’m sure you can find answers in the computers, and they can probably answer more quickly and with more accuracy than I can.” Theophanes plucked another book from the mess. “And with more patience. I’m busy.”

Eikon remained, receiving an annoyed scowl for doing so.

“Would you prefer that I am direct?” Eikon asked.

“Please, by all means! Ask so you can leave.”

“What did you see on the bridge?”

“Exactly what I’ve already described,” Theophanes said. “You see these books here? A lot of psychology texts. I know about the tricks the mind plays, the little glitches in recognition and the delusions that build up as the mind tries to explain what it thinks it perceived.”

“Knowledge of biases does not make one immune.”

“I never said it was so. But you asked me what I saw, or what I remember seeing. I have told you. As for what was actually there on the bridge? I heard Kelantos growl Lennox’s name. I saw Kelantos clutching at the air. Delusions in shock? Perhaps. But there was other evidence.”

Eikon nodded. “The stallion’s wounds.”

“I wish I had gotten a chance to take a closer look.” Theophanes sighed. Some of those who had abandoned the search for Lennox had done so in favor of a meal that had presented itself on the bridge.

Theophanes glanced at Eikon as if assessing some apparent quality. For a while, he hesitated, visibly troubled by an internal debate. He reached for another book off the floor. Instead of placing this one on the shelf, he placed it on the desk in front of Eikon.

It was huge. If they had been lower in the habitat, it would have been too heavy to lift in one hand. The Carnivore's Prerogative. “Philosophy?” Eikon set the book on the desk between them. “The others are scientific and medical. Reading material?”

“You're telling me it's not practical,” Theophanes said. “You should read it. Philosophy isn't so impractical when it changes how you define ‘practical.’” He closed it and left it on the desk, then turned and reached for another item on the floor..

Eikon reached for the book.

“Wait,” Theophanes said. A moment later, he handed Eikon a small electronic book reader. “I hope you didn’t seriously think I’d leave you responsible for taking care of one of my books.”

Eikon took it and briefly inspected the device. “How long have you had this?”

“It's almost as old as I am.”

Eikon turned it over once more, flicked it on to make sure it worked, then turned it off and put it in the largest pocket of his vest.

“Hopefully you'll be able to read the whole thing before you die, with enough time left over to decide that you disagree with everything in it,” Theophanes said.

“Why read it if I'll just disagree?”

The doctor shook his head. A sad smile curled at the corners of his beak. “Stupid question. In order to disagree, you need a reason. It forces you to think through your own ideas. The hunter cannot test himself against empty wilderness; he needs prey to hunt. In the conflict, he sees himself reflected.”

“A question must be asked for you to know that you know the answer.” Eikon was no stranger to the old sayings.

Theophanes nodded, his sad smile taking on a hint of genuineness. He opened his beak to say something, but promptly closed it, his eyes shifting to focus on something behind Eikon.

Dorian rushed into the room. He looked from Eikon to the doctor and back. “Is Kelly awake yet?”

Theophanes shook his head.

Dorian's eyes fell on Eikon. He scowled. “Follow,” he said, then turned and left.

Whatever the issue was, it was urgent. Eikon nodded a farewell to Theophanes, thanked him for the book, and then chased after Dorian.

“What's going on?” Eikon asked once they were out in the hall. He had to move quickly to keep up.

Dorian stared straight ahead, scowling. “Phrygian and Rasmus just went through the hall muttering about going to the bridge. They're on their way up, now.”

“What are they planning to do?”

“Something stupid, I'm sure.”

Eikon and Dorian took an elevator after the other two. Phrygian and Rasmus had done the same. In the brief respite, Dorian gave a few terse pieces of information to give Eikon a better idea of what had happened.

Regardless… Lennox and the mare were lost. Rasmus and Phrygian were angry. Those two griffons thought to try something clever, like perhaps breaking into the bridge where Eikon had failed, and using SecCom to track down their quarry.

And of course, while there, why not shut off the Alcubierre drive?

While Dorian and Eikon remained close enough behind Phrygian and Rasmus to know they were close behind, they didn't actually catch them until they were at the airlock to the bridge.

Phrygian glanced at them and said nothing, returning his attention back to the door control, smashed open, with wires hanging out like the tangled roots of a small plant.

“Were you two following us?” Rasmus asked when he saw them. He didn't have a spear with him, but he straightened his spine and scowled at them, slightly spreading his shoulders in a subtle nonverbal indication that he was probably armed. He did have one of those utility vests, like almost all griffons, and it was quite likely that there was a knife or something hidden in there. Not that he really needed a metal knife, because Rasmus had talons sufficient for mining iron.

“Yes,” Dorian answered.

They stared at each other, each trying to work through hypotheses of what the other might want and what they might do to get it. Phrygian ignored them all.

Eikon felt his heart rate rising. He and Dorian should have worked out a better plan than stop them. Direct, physical conflict was out of the question, and Eikon wasn't quick-thinking enough to come up with something clever on the spot. Maybe Dorian was clever enough, but he had chosen to bring Eikon, hadn't he? He expected Eikon to do something.

“Why?” Rasmus asked. “Don't trust us to be responsible with SecCom?”

“I don't much care what you take pictures of,” Dorian said, smiling and placing a hand on his chest in an imitation of some flattered maiden. “But I did notice that you neglected to bring us with you, which seemed odd, since we were the ones last here.”

“I thought it was odd that you said the bridge was sealed and that was that,” Phrygian mumbled from the alcove as he sorted through the wires. “Lennox got in.”

He tried to say the name evenly, but struggled. The disdain was not hidden at all. If Lennox could get in, surely we can. The tone said what the words didn't.

“Lennox also left it,” Dorian said. “Lennox sealed off parts of engineering so we can't even get close to the reactors or the A drive. He sealed off the bridge, too. And Gryphus knows what else he's done to it. Are you sure there's atmosphere on the other side of that door?”

Phrygian paused, staring. The information regarding the airlock and the bridge atmosphere would have been displayed right there, had the screen not been in six or seven pieces floating around the hallway. But he didn't stop. “Pressure holds it shut.”

Eikon had forgotten. A pressure difference would push the door into its frame, where a mechanism locked it in place. It could still be opened a few centimeters, but it wouldn't let you open it fully when there was a massive pressure difference on either side… just in case one of the doors was stuck open.

The corner of Dorian's beak twitched. He was thinking.

If Rasmus and Phrygian got on the bridge, not only would they be able to stop the Alcubierre drive and strand the ship again, but they would discover that Dorian and Eikon had been deceptive. Historically, the usual punishment involved permanently crippling injuries. And considering how the griffons had upheld the laws of the Republic regarding other crimes, he couldn't imagine them being particularly accepting of such a damaging deception.

Those two couldn't be allowed on the bridge, but they had to think that it was their own failure, not because they were stopped. It had to be done in such a way that they wouldn't try again later when Dorian and Eikon weren't around to stop them.

He thought to mention that they should be busy chasing Lennox, but in a way, this was contributing to that goal more than running around the ship could. SecCom had access to cameras everywhere. The local security stations only had access to their local networks… each habitat was separate, and engineering, and the command module, and the axis.

“Are you trying to get to SecCom?” Eikon asked.

Rasmus snorted. “Among other things. There's, you know, the A drive and all that.”

Nothing else had worked. Eikon took a risk. “You want to be stranded?” In his peripheral vision, he saw Dorian's warning glare.

“You'd rather just fly into the judgment of an entire planet?” Rasmus asked. His tone dropped to a menacing rasp. “Because I wouldn't. And I don't think many of us would. I'd rather live a little longer out here than die shortly after setting foot on solid ground.”

Phrygian offered no disagreement.

“Why are you so resigned to the idea that they'll execute us?” Eikon trod carefully. Only questions, he told himself. Socratic method, almost. I won't press any competing ideas — just questions.

Rasmus spread his palms. “They won't let us free by any definition. Maybe we'll be locked in prison forever instead of killed outright. Does it matter?”

“The Song is a prison,” Dorian mumbled.

“And we are the wardens.” Rasmus smiled as he scored a point, only growing more sure of his opinion. Clever wordplay and twisting of analogies always seemed to count for more than the actual logic of the debate.

Then Rasmus seemed to realize that Dorian and Eikon actually disagreed with that idea. Dorian had screwed it up, Eikon realized. Revealed us. Eikon hadn't been the one to slip. Of course, with his luck, the only time he did everything right, he still failed.

Dorian frowned.

Realizing his error?

“If you two are trying to send the ship home, you're betraying us as much as Lennox,” Rasmus said. Again, Eikon saw the subtle spread of the shoulders and hands and talons, the nonverbal indication that he was confident he could defeat them in a fight. But this time, Eikon noticed a stiffness in the pose. Rasmus really had some kind of injury around his midsection… bruises and perhaps broken ribs. In zero-g, without the weight, they wouldn't be much of an issue, especially once the adrenaline started flowing.

Eikon didn't have any weapon besides his own talons. Perhaps I can throw Theophanes' book hard enough to knock him out, he thought with a sardonic twist at the corner of his beak.

Dorian committed to the attack. Too late to back out. “Staying out here is suicide.”

“In the same way that living as a hermit in the wilderness is suicide,” Rasmus said. “Suicide from old age.”

“Chronic disease,” Dorian said. “Once the meat runs out.”

Rasmus shook his head. “We've got six good months left, and then a year after that before we really start to suffer. If it gets to be too much, there are plenty of airlocks still functional.” He glared at Dorian, eyes wide. “But maybe you're impatient. Shall I show you to the nearest?”

“Can you see any chance of going home and avoiding the two punishments you mentioned?” Eikon asked, trying to take his side of the argument into something a little less aggressive.

Rasmus started to shake his head again, but stopped. He wanted to say no out of stubbornness and instinct, he had already decided that he was right; he wasn't still refining the opinion. But he also hated to respond reflexively. “Equestria will demand our imprisonment or execution,” he finally said after a moment's thought. “That much is inevitable.”

“To fight against the inevitable is to blunt one's talons against rock,” Dorian said.

Rasmus nodded. Another old griffon aphorism.

“But the inevitability is only the demand,” Dorian said, crossing his arms and relaxing slightly. He hadn't even matched Rasmus' score yet, but somehow was content that his victory was assured. Eikon couldn't see to the end of the debate, but that one comment was hardly enough to win over the other.

“And what will the Republic do when it gets that demand, hm?” Rasmus asked, arching his eyebrows for a moment before returning them to their scowl. “Turn around, bend over, and take it up the rear.” He concluded the statement with an obscene gesture.

Dorian frowned. “They have refused them before.”

“One time in twenty, perhaps. And only when Equestria gave them the choice. There was a famine when we left, did you forget that?” Rasmus' tone gradually rose in intensity. “Because the ponies don't like it when we build slaughterhouses and farms for meat, even if it's only dumb, nonsentient beasts. And so they bribe us, and pressure us, and do everything they can to convince the Republic to put restrictions and regulations on the industry to prevent it from becoming an industry. The Republic lets them tell us we're not allowed to have food. You think they'll refuse a request for a handful of criminals?”

“The Republic's leaders are out of touch with the common griffon, and—” Dorian said.

“Damned right.”

Dorian clenched a fist and continued, “And many of those leaders would choose personal benefit over national. Many of us on the Song have many friends among them.”

With the exception of Eikon, who had avoided anything more than handshakes and photos, and Rasmus, who probably avoided even those.

It was sometimes easy to forget that most of them were scientists, most of them prominent in their fields. Kelantos was a pharmacologist, Theophanes a surgeon, Dorian an electrical engineer, Eikon an entry-level nuclear engineer. Phrygian worked in the cargo bays, but on the Song, everyone was a cosmonaut. Even Phrygian could integrate with the best of mathematicians.

Eikon spared a quick glance at Dorian, though he wasn't sure why. As always, Dorian was unreadable. Did he really think they could rely on personal connections with politicians to avoid the equine demands for justice? Or was this just a ploy to make Rasmus think it was possible?

There were other issues, of course…. They couldn't just ask for pardons and be granted them, especially with a nation of ponies and half a nation of griffons against them. But it could be a start.

Rasmus was thinking it over as Eikon was.

Phrygian straightened up, turning to them to speak. Eikon tried to quickly throw together a flowchart of possible statements and responses, anticipating whatever Phrygian was about to bring to the debate.

“I need a battery,” Phrygian announced.

It took a second for Eikon to realize what he had said. “A battery?”

“The door,” Phrygian said. “The motors need power. Power line is dead and I'm not inclined to go poking around damaged electrical lines.”

“Don't have one,” Rasmus said.

Eikon had the old electronic reader. It was probably old enough to still have one of the lithium ion batteries you could pop out. Probably enough to at least unlatch the door's inner mechanisms and let them open it by force.

Phrygian looked at Dorian. Dorian shook his head, and then Phrygian's gaze turned to Eikon.

Eikon gave no answer, hoping Phrygian would incorrectly assume that to be a no.

“If you have one, give it to me,” Phrygian said. His massive gray wings flicked twice, once to set him in motion towards Eikon, and a second time to stop, a meter away.

Hoping to find some indication of how to proceed, Eikon glanced at Dorian, but the other gave no such indication.

The hesitation apparently angered Phrygian. “Give me whatever battery you're hiding. I'll give it back. Undamaged, if not uncharged.”

Eikon slowly slipped a hand into the pocket of his vest and retrieved the reader. Phrygian took it, looked it over, then took off the back cover and removed the battery. He took it back over to the door.

“A firm enough demand can't simply be ignored,” Rasmus said, his eyes following Phrygian's hands before darting back to look at Dorian. “The entire nation of Equestria will be ready to declare war over this.”

Dorian smirked. “I suppose if a frightened, starving pony is enough to incapacitate you, one of their warriors must be an unthinkable horror.”

“You know they'll be outraged, and you know their herd mentality. And you know that the threat of war is the biggest reason why the Republic won't openly oppose them on any big issues, because the physical capabilities of a warrior have nothing to do with the nuclear weapons they might use.” Rasmus glared at Dorian. “Maybe if this were a small incident, the Republic would keep us against some irritation, but this is the Verdant Song we're talking about.”

In the news for years during its construction. The only thing anyone talked about during its departure. Talk shows, news interviews, blogs, forums, the talk of academics and peasants, business professionals and senators… The whole planet had been watching, and they would watch again.

Dorian closed his eyes. Admitting defeat? Eikon wondered.

There was a clank inside the door. Phrygian smiled.

Rasmus rushed forward to help him force it open. Phrygian ignored him, instead taking the battery in hand and returning to hover a meter in front off Eikon. He took the parts of the reader from where they tumbled in the air and reassembled it as it was before, handing it back to Eikon.

“I have an agenda, and it does not include harassing you,” Phrygian said. “But get in my way and I will move you out of my way. You're welcome to assist me, if you wish, or leave if you don't.”

While Phrygian had been talking, Rasmus had been at the door, trying to push it open. He succeeded with a scrape and a thud. Eikon's heart leaped into his throat and started beating out a frantic tempo. He and Dorian had said that the bridge was sealed. If that next door was unlocked…

They all went to look.

The next door was shut, same as the first. The controls on this one were intact and active, though. Sealed by order of the captain. Captain's authorization code necessary to unlock. Just like the airlock on the other side of the bridge. No manual release existed for that lock, and all of the wiring would be on the other side, not in the airlock itself. Short of tearing through a meter of the hull, they were locked out.

Eikon breathed again.

“The way is shut,” Dorian observed in mock amusement. “Just as I said. Imagine that.”

“You never tried to open the first door,” Rasmus said. “We did. And succeeded.”

“Bravo, good sir!” Dorian exclaimed. “You emerged victorious in a battle of wits against a slab of metal!”

Rasmus opened his beak, probably to say something about how Dorian had been defeated in that same battle of wits, but stopped himself as he remembered the last thing he said…. Dorian had never tried.

“I don't suppose that anyone found the captain's authorization and neglected to tell me,” Phrygian growled.

“Lennox probably has that,” Dorian said.

Eikon knew that one was made up. The codes were lost months ago when most of the command staff were killed.

“You're suggesting that I find him in order to find him,” Phrygian said.

Rasmus put a hand on the bulkhead and rapped his talons against it. “Well, I guess SecCom is out for now. But as for the A drive… Could we just decouple engineering? Wouldn't need Lennox, I don't think.”

Phrygian shook his head. “I wasn't trying to shut off the A drive.”

“What?” Rasmus scowled. “Since when? You said you would.”

“A month ago, I think any of us would have said that. A temptation unseen is an easy thing to deny,” Phrygian said. “Obviously, fixing the ship wasn't as impossible as we thought, and I didn't really think about it when it was an impossibility.”

“What, now you're curious, now that the ship is on route?” Rasmus asked. “Want to see the gallows before you believe that hooves can tie knots?”

“If you'd like to stay out here, there are plenty of airlocks still functional. Shall I show you to the nearest?” Phrygian gestured down the hall.

Rasmus narrowed his eyes, grumbled something under his breath, and flew off.

— — —

Holly woke up suddenly, instantly coming to awareness of where she was and what was going on. She sat up and listened for a minute, hoping that she hadn't been startled awake by some danger. But all was calm and quiet. She still felt tired, though it was more of a lethargic tiredness than a physical exhaustion.

She wandered out into the hall, listening to a faint clicking sound coming from a doorway nearby. Peeking around the corner, she found Lennox still sitting at the computer where she'd left him, still typing.

How long had she slept? She glanced around until she found a clock. Six hours. That was reasonable. For her… not for him. Six hours just sitting there?

She still needed answers from him, but didn't really have the energy to ask them. She passed the doorway and kept wandering, her steps slow.

Eventually, she reached an airlock sealing off a stairwell. Crew quarters were down a few levels. Maybe a hot shower would make her feel better. She tapped the control and the first airlock door hissed open.

A half an hour later, she returned to the hallway outside Lennox's computer room. She dripped occasionally, and was a bit cold, but the shower had been hot and she felt so much better now that she was clean and had experienced a small catharsis.

She had cried a lot. For the crew, for the ponies back home, for the hostages, for herself…. So much was going wrong…. It was overwhelming. But they might be able to turn things around. Maybe? She tried not to focus on the negative things, instead looking for small, simple things that gave her some comfort. There had been a delightful peppermint-scented soap. It was amusing, in a disturbing sort of way, that the ship could be in such a sorry state and yet still have peppermint soap and hot showers readily available.

She took a few tentative steps into the room with Lennox.

He looked as if he hadn’t slept. His eyes were bloodshot and… was that a drop of blood on his beak? She froze in the doorway.

He gave her the briefest glance, just confirming that it was her before he turned back to the screen. There wasn’t annoyance or anger there, just a question and an answer.

She thought to just leave him alone, but she wouldn’t ever sleep soundly if she didn’t know for sure. “Lennox,” she said, voice soft.

“Yes?” He didn’t look.

“Have you been awake for the last six hours?”

His typing paused for a second as his eyes darted to the corner of the screen. “Apparently.”

Her next question came hesitantly. “May I ask what you’ve been doing?”

“You can ask whatever you want. The real question is whether or not I’ll answer.”

Holly lifted one of her front hooves, about to take a step back and leave. But she stopped herself. She needed to know, and she wasn’t going to accept this nonsense anymore. “Answer,” she said.

“I’ve been reviewing system diagnostics,” he said. “I attempted and failed to gain access to the security systems on Chemlab. I attempted and failed to reprogram some of the cleaning bots. I successfully managed to find enough of the right materials to get the fabricators to make me a new pistol.” He tapped a pocket of his vest. “Then I stopped to eat. I sat here and stared at the wall for half an hour. Then I closed my eyes and listened to the ship for half an hour.”

“You stopped to eat… what, exactly?”

He rolled his eyes. “Approximately fifty grams of chopped carrots. Approximately one hundred grams of lettuce. A handful of small, crunchy, spiced grain products. A mixture of artificial flavorings, spices, and high fructose corn syrup in a small pouch that was labeled, ‘salad dressing.’ A quarter-pound portion of synthetic meat.”

Realizing that she had been holding her breath, Holly allowed herself to exhale. “Synthetic,” she said.

He reached up a hand and brushed his beak, catching that stray drop of blood. He glanced at his hand, then wiped it on his vest. “Are you interrogating me because you don’t believe that it wasn’t real meat?”

She shifted uneasily. “I haven’t exactly had very good relations with carnivores lately.”

“Understandable,” he said. “If it makes you feel any better, there are several more pieces in a refrigerator in the nearest kitchen. Perhaps their perfectly identical fabricated appearance, oversaturated color, supernatural resistance to rotting, and their taste will be more convincing than my word.”

“I don’t need to check.” Her stomach churned with the mere thought of it. “I believe you as far as this instance goes.”

He raised an eyebrow, not missing the implication.

“But have you ever hunted?” She couldn’t quite bring herself to say eaten a pony.

He closed his eyes. “Before you ask me a question, consider the possible answers. Do not ask the question if you are not prepared to cope with each possibility.”

The breath caught in her chest. That was about as close to an admission as he could have gotten. She wanted to undo the question, just forget about the whole thing. She didn’t really want to know. As long as he didn’t go after her, it didn’t matter right now.

But would he? Given the situation…

“On the edge of Cervidae,” he said. “Deer.” He looked down, eyes tracing over his claws… Blunted claws, she noticed. On both hands. She’d only seen a few other griffons who had done that. Most blunted only one hand to use on touch screens and fragile equipment, keeping the other talons sharp as a cultural thing. “It was ten years ago,” he mumbled. “Much has changed.”

She frowned, feeling a little guilty for so harshly suspecting him of recent murder. He was right…. Ten years was a long time, and that past wasn’t really relevant at the moment. At first, she was uncomfortable knowing that he had murder in his past, but she gradually realized that if he could remember it so well, it wasn’t a frequent occurrence. And he did seem to display a hint of regret.

Some part of her felt guilty; another felt cautious. A third was hostile, reminding her that he still hadn’t told her everything she needed to know.

He still hadn’t explained what had happened to Solstice. She hadn’t even seen any messages from Solstice. Lennox had been silent. No radio communication. Nothing. Solstice would have at least said something to her.

“Lennox,” she said, whispering, finding it difficult to breath. “Can you just tell me just one thing? An honest answer? The complete answer?”

His eyes darted over her. “One question. One complete answer. As long as you don’t do something stupid afterward.”

The clues came together. Answering her questions would cause problems. Solstice would be disappointed if they went to him. He wasn’t in danger right now. Lennox had made a promise… not set out on some kind of joint objective, but had rescued her on his own… with Solstice’s watch, and no real explanation of what had happened.

Holly raised her eyes to meet his gaze. “What happened to Solstice?”

Lennox just scowled at her, silent. The room was so silent she could hear their breathing. Just when she was afraid that he wasn’t going to answer, as another question rose in her throat, he spoke.

“Solstice and I decided that getting the ship back to Equus was the highest priority. We set the ship on course yesterday. Kelantos was there. Solstice fought him. Kelantos won. He held Solstice in front of him as a shield, blocking the only escape while other griffons came up from behind.”

No, Celestia, please, her mind kept repeating as he spoke, as if her mental chanting might somehow touch the hearts of the gods enough to move them to remake the timeline of events in her favor.

“I had two choices. One: stay there and fight off twenty griffons with two bullets, certain death. Two: escape and keep my promise.”

He had to leave Solstice behind… Solstice must’ve told him to save her… He chose to be left behind so that—

“Is he alive!? If you left him, you don’t know for sure!” Her pulse thudded in her head. Veins tingled just like when she had been chased. And that sinking nausea… The fear.

“Twenty griffons,” he said. “Not a minute after I left.”

“But you didn’t see! You don’t know for sure, do you!?”

“I know that he was bleeding severely, and I know they didn’t stop to give him first aid.”

“How can you be so sure? How can you know? If he’s still there, and if we hurry, maybe we can—”

“I know.”

“Damnit, Lennox, how can you be sure?”

He clenched his fists. “Because I shot him.”

Comments

[Cynewulf]

I still ship them.

[Walabio]

According to Miss Lauren Faust, all creatures with hooves are sentient sapient beings. The show is, however, inconsistent, with a deer as a pet in Filli Vanilli. I could imagine ethical griffins with a fishing industry, aquaculture, poultry, and raising lagomorphs and rodents. The griffins in your universe seem to have dietary needs intermediate between the apes of Equestrian Girls and obligatory carnivores like cats.

[terrycloth]

6046751 In the comics, the deer are sapient, but also complete jerks. So it's okay to eat them.

[Walabio]

6046807

Oh, I read the review. Evidently, I Equestria, a bureaucrat can accidentally give away the land of a people and deals made under duress are valid. It is like our world:

In Florida, a perverted father wanting to sexually mutilate the genitals of his son , with the help of a corrupt judge, lock up the mother until she signs a consent-form for the sexual genital mutilation. This is totally not duress.

The comics follow this up with bulls using force for criminal activity, this being totally legal, and it being legally impossible for any pony to do anything about it.

[Alexander Crestfallen]

I was recommended this story recently, and I have to say, I'm enjoying it immensely! I'm not sure if it's the setting, the characters, the presentation, or all of the above, but this is one story that I'd wholeheartedly recommend.

It's great stuff, and I can't wait for the next chapter to come out! Keep up the good work!

[Mixolydian Grey]

6046751 Careful there, you might ruin my headcanon. :)

I imagine that sentience is not a binary state where you either have it or not, but rather it is a matter of degree. (And I'm concerned that a lot of the themes of Verdant Song come across as enforcing strict dichotomies, which I am wholly opposed to.)

The FiM canon sorta shows us a spectrum of sentience among mammals. Ursines and lagomorphs do not appear to be sentient. Avians do not appear to be sentient. Bovines are a gray area... Fourth episode: Applejack and the cows. The cattle are self aware and can speak, but are very simple-minded.

I imagine that there are some creatures who fall so far to the dumb side of the sentience spectrum that you wouldn't really consider them as such, and I make the assumption that some of those dumb beasts are similar to cattle in terms of their use as a food source.

My deer are sentient, but primitive. A hunter-gatherer society persisting in an industrialized world. That story about Lennox and the deer might come up later in more detail if I don't forget.

Thanks for commenting!

6046887 Thank you! I'm glad you like it. Your avatar is pretty gosh darned adorable, by the way. :3

[Axan Zenith]

Hot damn, you let the hammer drop hard. Love it.

[NachoTheBrony]

Plenty to think about here. The only significant factual error I can spot is that, when there was the compression event during the acceleration, either Engineering, the central shaft or both would have become decompressed, the walkways connecting them would have become impassable, and it would be basically impossible to traverse between them without spacesuits.
The easiest course toward correcting this would be to erase that couple paragraphs, then checking the rest of the chapter for othee mentions. Another way would be to push it up on your timeline as having happened during the crash, but that would mean a lot more editing.

[Mixolydian Grey]

6052226 Is it unacceptable to simply say that the damage wasn't bad enough to decompress the whole ship, and that enough of the ship is still pressurized such that suits are largely not a concern?

[NachoTheBrony]

6052318
Main issue here is the difference between how stone or aggregates behave under compression, versus the same on metal.
When you compress metal beyond its resistance, it will crumple (deform):
cdn.citylab.com/media/img/citylab/legacy/2013/08/21/can.JPG
When you compress rock beyond its resistance, it will crumble (disintegrate):

This is in fact is one of the reasons why concrete isn't a mainstream construction material on ships. Lunar basalt is, on the other hand, a viable construction material for spaceships, mainly because launching it from the moon would be between 40 and 1000 times cheaper than launching from the Earth, and because, with the exception of having to melt it, it can be worked like it was concrete.

[Bad_Seed_72]

I have to say that I enjoyed both versions of this story so far, but I would have to say that this one is definitely better. Loved every word all over again. Keep up the good work!

[TheGrandNil]

That good griffin dude X The scared mare is the best ship... uwu