The First Equestrian Starliner

by computerneek

Chapter 9

His radio chirps, starts outputting static, and cuts off sharply, switching to a constant tone. That’s what it does when it receives an encrypted transmission. While he waits for it to finish, he touches a couple of his thrusters, adjusting his trajectory to avoid that radiator.

It finally finishes. He listens to the higher-pitched tone it emits while it processes the inbound transmission for about two seconds before it finishes with that and begins playback.

“Okay… I assume that means they’re not… them, then. Have they self-identified? Have you self-identified? Have they asked to talk to me? Have…” She sighs. “Are they aware of… them?”

This is followed by the chirp to indicate playback complete.

He sighs, and reaches for the record button. “It’s not theirs, that’s for certain… No, they haven’t self-identified, but I have… I’ll get right on that last one.” He releases the button; the low tone of processing an outbound transmission sounds for a second or two before it switches to the even lower tone of recorded message transmission. He sighs, posing his claw over the control panel to switch his transmission director back around and switch off the encryption routines for a transmission to the giant… thing.

Then, very suddenly, his claw isn’t floating over the control panel. As a matter of fact, there isn’t even a control panel for it to be floating over.

---

“Intercepting transmission.”

“It’s not theirs, that’s for cert-”

“Signal Lost. Her Highness’ Space Fighter Two One Two was destroyed by hostile fire.”

Twilight’s jaw drops. They’d seen on the screen when the bolt of light had come out of nowhere and simply disintegrated the tiny little ship that had come out to meet them. The light had continued on, striking Athena’s hull- and producing another shake powerful enough to knock ponies over.

“Hull Breach, Deck D-dash-nine-three. No casualties; minimal atmospheric loss. Transmitting second attack warning; activating protocols Sierra-Delta-Four and Echo-Papa-Four-Seven.”

The lights change. No longer is it creating a relaxed, conservative feel suited to somepony like Applejack. No; they’re now creating a far different feel. This one is calm and focused- much like…

Everypony looks up at Luna, and spots the gleam in her surviving eye.

Much like a war room ought to feel.

“Incoming transmission from lunar base.”

“Unknown Vessel, this is Princess Midnight of the New World. Be warned, you are in an active combat zone.” The same female voice as those intercepted responses. “Please identify yourself.”

“Activating Protocol Charlie Nine.” A strange, wailing alarm is heard echoing through the hallways outside.

Luna speaks up. “Let us respond to Princess Midnight,” she declares.

“Standing by for translation and transmission.”

She nods. “Princess Midnight, this is Princess Luna of Equestria. Our vessel has recently suffered significant damage, and we are currently operating under emergency power. Any assistance would be welcome.”

“Transmission complete.”

Luna looks down at Twilight. “Could you handle this, perchance? I fear my skills are… lacking in this area.”

Twilight looks over at the other Princess, then forwards at the screen, and back to Luna. “Um… Sure.”

“Fusion Zero-One-Dash-One online. Main Power restored. Releasing Protocol Echo-Papa-Four-Seven. Incoming transmission.”

“Princess?” She sounds surprised. “I… I must apologize, we lack the capability to offer assistance to a vessel as large as yours. I can send extraction, if you would like?”

Luna and Twilight share a look as the table lights up. Twilight nods.

“You’re the Captain,” Luna states.

Twilight gives her a level-lidded glare. “Really?”

“I can be the First Officer if you want, but I’m not going to be leading anything with only one eye.”

Twilight sighs, turning to her friends… and cringing away from the chorus of nods she gets in return. “Alright, alright…” She looks back up at the screen. “I’ll try not to mess it up. Um… Princess Midnight, this is Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria…” She glances at her friends. “... and the captain of this vessel. We’ve just managed to restore main power; extraction should be unnecessary. Um… Who’s fighting who?”

“Transmission complete. Inertial Compensator Field restored. Incoming Transmission.”

“Oh, um, that sounds good, um… Sorry! I’m just, um…” They hear a deep breath. “Nevermind that. Um… We don’t know who it is. They attacked from space, and have already destroyed our homeworld. I’m afraid we don’t have an embassy to offer right now; our moon base doesn’t have the facilities for that. Um… I would recommend deorbiting the planet. They’re still in the business of shooting everything near it.”

A sudden jolt almost makes everypony fall over- but they stay standing, as if it had never happened.

“Evasive warp jump complete. Warning: Warp Drive overheating.”

“Uh…” Twilight mumbles.

“She almost sounds like you,” Rainbow states. “Working herself up over nothing.”

Princess Luna lets out a chuckle.

Twilight turns to Rainbow. “I do not!”

“You do too!”

“... Whatever. But she is not! As far as she knows, she just made a major diplomatic mistake!”

Applejack raises an eyebrow while Rainbow recovers. “Good thing we don’t care too much about all that fro-fro nonsense, isn’t it?”

Rarity gasps. “Well of course we do!”

Twilight groans. “But we don’t let a lack of it prevent peace, do we?”

Rarity stops, taking in the stares from both Rainbow and Applejack. “Uh… I suppose we don’t, do we?”

“Incoming transmission.”

“Uh… What just happened? Did you really just dodge an energy weapon with a ship that large...?”

Twilight looks at the screen. “Uh… I don’t know… Did we?”

“Affirmative. Evasive Warp removed all threat value from the detected energy attack.” The screen shows a little top-down view of exactly what had happened.

“Oh… Then… Princess Midnight, yes, we did. Is that, uh, unusual, or something?”

“Transmission complete. Incoming transmission.”

“Unusual!? Oh, sorry! Um… No, it’s impossible. By the time we realize an energy weapon has been fired at us… it’s already missing us or we’re already dead. Yet you dodged one that would have been a direct hit.”

Twilight shrugs. “Yes, that sounds about right.”

“Transmission complete.”

“You are going to tell me how that works sometime, right?”

“Request logged. Report generated.”

Nod.

“Incoming transmission.”

“Um… okay. Um… May I request your assistance, then?”

Blink. “Uh, what with?”

“Transmission complete. Incoming transmission.”

“Um… Any chance we could take refuge aboard your ship? … They are getting mighty close to my moon base with their planet destroyer, and… and we don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Twilight looks up at Luna, who nods. She looks to the rest of her friends, who nod.

Fluttershy squeaks. “They… They’re not okay.”

Twilight looks up at the screen again. “How many of those… Uh, ‘dropship’ things do we have to send them?”

“All small craft have been disabled through overheating. Repairs necessary.”

“Shoot… Um, how much space do we have for their ships?”

“Seventeen bays are currently available at acceptable temperatures.”

She nods. “Then… Yes, Princess, you may. All of our small craft melted on the way here, but we’ve got seventeen bays available to accept yours… at workable temperatures, that is- you won’t have to worry about being cooked alive. Is that… workable?”

“Transmission complete. Incoming transmission.”

“I think, yes. Any chance you could set a course for the local moon? The less distance we have to travel, the less time… they have to pick us out of space. We’ll be on our way, with all our people, in a flight of eighty-three single-occupant ships, like the fighter you saw earlier. Seventy-eight of us are coming suited; they’ll be able to discard their ships and come aboard independently if space becomes an issue.”

“Uh… Can we fit that many…?”

“Preparing bays three and eighteen to receive friendly fleet.”

Nod. “I’ll take that as a yes. Um, set a course?”

“Autopilot activated; initiating deorbit towards local lunar body.”

---

As the enormous ship accelerates around the planet to slingshot itself towards the local moon at the end of its current orbit, eighty-three people scramble to get into tiny little fighter craft attached to the airlocks on their quick lunar base.

Only seventy-two launch. Everyone else was killed instantly by the shrapnel thrown by the exploding wall.

The flight of small craft directs itself upwards, making a direct course back towards their homeworld. Right into the middle of the late battlefield, with every last survivor in the entire system.

Eight never make it to orbit. Twelve never make it past.

Fifty-two fighters leave their shattered companions behind as they streak away from their demolished base, towards the enormous ship offering them asylum. Their formation shifts as they go, shielding the three in the middle against enemy fire.

A volley of enemy fire comes at them from ahead; an Enemy strike team is coming to meet them. They won’t be able to swerve to dodge- so, even as six more meet their end, the remainder charges into battle, guns blazing.

Princess Midnight is somewhat more selective in her fire than most of her other pilots. She isn’t wearing a space suit; hers was lost in a previous attack. Thankfully, she hadn’t been wearing it at the time. Their suits will provide extra insulation between her other pilots and their ships’ internal temperatures; as such, they can afford to heat themselves up a little more in the name of a lucky shot. She really can’t.

It helps that she’s a natural. Her very first volley shatters her target- and by the time her opponents have had time to recharge their energy weapons, she’s already hunting for a third target.

More of her ships get simply disintegrated by her enemy’s energy fire. She’s down to a total of- she glances at the sensor panel- thirty-seven by now. The Enemy has far greater numbers- and, in a close-in battle, they usually need those enormous numerical advantages to defeat her more agile, faster-firing pilots.

They’ve got too many, she thinks. Hopefully, Princess Twilight’s ship- she’d forgotten to ask what it’s called- is armed as well… and shows up soon.

She picks out four more of her opponents- it’s starting to get warm in her cockpit- before their next volley. She’s the only surviving unsuited member; all the rest have now been killed by enemy fire. She’s also down to thirty ships.

More fighting. Another volley. Twenty-three ships left. She spots the enormous ship coming around the planet, faster than its previous orbit had been- and separating from the orbital path, flinging itself out at her. She lets out a grin, and trashes three hostiles in a row.

Another volley. Eighteen survivors. It’s getting hot in her cockpit.

Another. Thirteen.

Another. Ten. At least fewer of her people are dying in each volley now; there’s few enough of them to hit the enemy is having a hard time hitting the same numbers each time. She’s going to have to stop shooting her heart out at them soon; her ship is growing too hot.

Another. Six. No, five; one of her other pilots just slammed into an enemy fighter head-on. She picks another target, and unleashes a couple rounds into its engines, resulting in the immediate destruction of the ship in question. Where is Princess Twilight’s ship? She glances at her sensor display. It’s coming, but not close enough for her to try a sprint to it.

Another volley. Three. No, two; the third just overheated his weapons and blew his own ship up. Was that a hit she saw on Princess Twilight’s ship? She doesn’t know- and she’s too busy ensuring her own survival against the remaining forty enemies to look.

Another volley. Her ship is reaching the temperatures her oven does- but at least she’s preserved her weapons… and engines. Oh, and her companion is dead.

She gives up fighting, and makes a mad dash for Princess Twilight’s ship, twirling and maneuvering against her enemy as best she can… Wait, is Princess Twilight’s ship red hot?

Bolts of light blaze past her. Several hit Princess Twilight’s ship- that’d be another volley. Some of them seem to be focused on the same spot of the enormous ship, in quick succession.

She pulls on her stick to end her latest maneuver… and slams for the radio, after a momentary glance at her control panel. “Mayday, mayday! I’ve lost all motive power in an engagement with the Enemy!” She releases the key. That was unencrypted and unscrambled; hopefully, Princess Twilight hears it… and is able to understand what happened.

Then the angular momentum from her most recent maneuver turns her ship around… and she stares, open-mouthed, at the entire squadron of enemies… Or, more appropriately, the expanding cloud of plasma they’ve been turned into.

Oh, and there’s a response on the radio. It’s not Princess Twilight’s voice- but it’s definitely female, and matches her first contact pilot’s- what was his name again?- description far closer than her communication with them had.

“Initiating pickup procedures,” the unknown speaker says, an unnerving calm in the middle of battle. “Brace for acceleration in three, two, one.”

On the count of zero, she lets out a gasp as her ship accelerates very suddenly backwards… Towards Twilight’s ship. It continues to spin to face- and shortly stops spinning too. She watches as Twilight’s ship seems to turn sideways- oh, it’s only the front that’s red-hot- and her ship seems to align itself with a tiny rectangle of light on its side, as if it were under power… even though she knows it’s not.

She watches it grow closer. As it turns out, Princess Twilight’s ship is big enough to house an entire civilization. The tiny little rectangle she’d seen turns out to be a bay big enough to house about twenty of the fighters she’d set out with… Or something much, much larger. She sees something up at the top, whirling… She can feel, more than see, the beams of energy coming from them, reaching out to her ship… Ahh, this must be a real-life implementation of her engineer’s fabled ‘tractor beams’. She can see the many doors, probably for robots for service, repair, rescue, and so on.

She wipes a claw across her forehead. Her ship is too hot- she must have lost the radiators with the engines. She’s going to have to get overboard quickly, unless she wants to be cooked alive.

She shudders as her ship slows down on its way through the door. By looking back, through her glass canopy, she sees the door start sliding shut as soon as she is inside.

But there’s something else. Sure, there’s gravity in here; she can feel it, about equivalent to her long-lost homeworld, even as the ‘tractor beam’ things lower her ship slowly and steadily to the floor. She grabs the handle for the landing gear, pulling it quickly to the ‘down’ position. Hopefully, the battery packs running her electronics have enough juice in them to deploy the gear- that is, assuming the rear gear hasn’t been blown off with the engines.

But the gravity- despite being something she’s never felt aboard a ship- isn’t the part that makes her shudder. No- that’d be that strange prickly sensation, all over her body, that started as soon as she got in the door.

She sees the light indicating landing gear deployment come on. Yes, it had enough juice. Hopefully, that means all three landing gears are deployed, to offer her a smooth, damage-free landing. She’d hate to step outside to discover a rough landing had ruptured a fuel tank; her ships’ fuel is very, very highly toxic. She feels her ship accelerate in its descent- just a little.

She shudders again, at the strange prickly sensation. That’s not harmful radiation, is it? She punches up her ship’s little sensor suite… Good, that’s undamaged. It can’t find anything harmful… Or much at all, as the door lands shut behind her ship. This room is really well shielded.

Then she feels the gentle bump bump as her ship touches down, the landing gear absorbing the impact the same way it’s designed to absorb far stronger impacts during a normal landing… And not tipping. So, the gear must be okay.

She reaches for the radio, and depresses the button; her ship is still showing far below acceptable external atmospheric pressure… though it’s already greater than zero and climbing. “Thank you,” she states. “Is there any kind of radiation around here I should be aware of?”

The answer comes back instantly, in that same, calm voice. “You are welcome. Negative harmful radiation. Recovery Bay Two will reach breathable pressure in fifteen seconds, Mark, and normal living pressure in sixty-three seconds.”

She looks at the external pressure gauge on the wall of her cabin and nods to herself; the slowly-moving needle looks like it’ll hit the named thresholds at about the times it just mentioned. She rises to her feet, to step around the back of her seat. She slips into the little passage- thankfully just a little cooler, but it’s still burning her feet- behind her cockpit, turning to her left and taking the one step to her ship’s tiny little airlock. After checking the internal airlock pressure, she opens the inner door… and watches its external pressure meter.

She waits for only about ten seconds- and, at about the point when it hits breathable pressure, the red lights at the upper corners of the room blink to yellow.

Convenient.

She reaches for and turns the valve handle to equalize the internal pressure. She might want to get outside quickly, but she does not want to be blown out- and injured- by her ships’ internal pressure!

She shudders at the thought of using this tiny little airlock actually as an airlock into deep space… she could never do it. It’d be too cramped for her and her claustrophobia.

Which is another reason she wants to get out of her overheated ship. She hops from foot to foot a little, trying to preserve her skin.

Finally, the pressure differential indicator reaches zero. She’s taking in quick, deep breaths- but at least it’s breathable. She cycles the exterior door open.

The tingling sensation magnifies suddenly. She shudders, glancing back at her cockpit. “You sure there’s nothing harmful?” she asks… and shakes her head to clear the fog trying to get in.

The sound comes from outside her ship this time, echoing slightly in the enormous space. “Verification positive; negative harmful radiation.”

She takes a step forwards, standing at the edge of her airlock, and takes in a deep breath of the outside air and its building pressure. She wavers slightly, but shakes her head clear once again. “Alright,” she states. “I’ll take your word for it.” She jumps down from her airlock.

She could have unlocked and turned the crank to extend the steps to walk down. She very well could have- but she didn’t want to stand on the boiling deck plates of her ship for quite that long. Besides, she’s quite agile- and can easily jump such a distance as this. As for if she might need her fighter again… She figures she can find a way to climb back up to the cockpit later, once she’s found a way to replace the engines. Which, she figures, will be harder.

Then she lands, feet first, on the decking below her. The warm decking, but to her, it’s blessedly cool. Something twists in her gut and she falls forwards, the fog seizing her mind before she can even hit the ground. Her arms did flash out in front of her, though, to catch her fall.

Comments

[LostArchivist]

The problem is that she didn't ask that there was no radiation, period. :D
Another victim of ponification, I suspect.

Wow, they lost all but 80 of their race, and that was before the casualties of the flight in. Ouch...

I'm somewhat concerned by what must have happened that the ship got power and weapons on again that quickly. Something tells me that there's a significant kaboom probability or that something was cannibalized to get power back on...
Hopefully it's not too problematic.
...How good of a self-repair capability does the ship have? It's blown up, lost most of its power and engines, and is now full of holes.
Can it just eat a nearby moon for materials? :D

[computerneek]

9214071
Very possibly.

As for how she got power & stuffs back on, she probably sacrilegiously overheated something relatively unimportant in order to cool the required components to operable temperatures. Emergency times call for emergency solutions.

Like the weapon she used- you may have noticed it was glowing white-hot when it was done. Plasma weapons produce a LOT of heat.