• Published 10th Oct 2018
  • 7,753 Views, 4,801 Comments

Voyage of the Equinox - Starscribe



Equestria's first interstellar ship is crewed by the best and brightest Equestria has to offer. Twilight Sparkle and her friends are determined to uncover the origin of the mysterious alien Signal, no matter what it costs. A comment-driven story.

  • ...
26
 4,801
 7,753

PreviousChapters Next
Chapter 50

Have Applejack repair, despite her illness. 61%

“Well, it ain’t the prettiest work I ever…” Applejack dropped for a second, hacking and coughing out onto the soil. She stood up a moment later, clearing her throat.

Cryosleep Caskets were modular, portable hardware—which was a small miracle for the pony Sunset Shimmer, since most everything else in the escape pod had turned to a corroded hulk in the moisture rich underground environment. Twilight had levitated the unit out away from the trees herself, and there Applejack had gone to work.

It was a near thing—batteries that could keep a pony frozen indefinitely in the cold abyss of space clearly struggled against the full sun of Proximus B. Fans whirred, and frost formed on the exhaust manifold. But they managed.

Applejack attempts to repair. Success. Applejack takes three points of health damage from the (mostly emotional) strain of her repair.

“That’ll do, cap. This pony… Sunset, I guess, she’s still alive. Might be a tad freezer-burned after the near defrost she got, but… nothing a bioprinter and a good surgeon couldn’t cure.”

Fluttershy and Twilight met eyes then, a tense, silent moment. They both knew it—Sunset probably wouldn’t have a surgeon. When they got back to the Equinox, she would have Fluttershy, and that was it.

“I don’t know if we’ll get that chance,” Twilight said, voice low. “Leaving her… frozen until we get back, I mean. Sunset Shimmer here, Captain Sunset Shimmer… she’s the only one who knows anything about this ship, the Solstice. Sent after we left, from a different Equestria. We might need what she knows. Equestria might need it. If Cozy…” But she didn’t need to finish that.

Applejack just shook her head. “That ain’t my call to make. I fixed the pod, that’s what you needed. Now I… think I’ll need a mite more rest. If ya’ don’t mind me askin,’ Cap.”

“No,” she answered. “I don’t mind. Go ahead. Get back to the ship, and sleep as long as you need. Fluttershy and I need to get this pod back… I don’t like the idea of our survivor’s life hanging on a nuclear batter that was half-soaked for decades.”

“Yeah.” Fluttershy said. “I can… drive the cargo truck. I can, um… get her back.” But for all her obedience, Twilight could see the anger just beneath the surface. If you make me wake her…

But Twilight wouldn’t be making her do anything right now. She turned, walking back towards the excavation, where Pinkie Pie was still hard at work.

She passed the five fresh graves on the way—Twilight had done that grisly duty herself, while Applejack and Fluttershy struggled over the pod. Pinkie would’ve helped under better circumstances, but… the pony was barely holding things together as it was. Putting the corpses of ponies in the ground wouldn’t be helping her.

There were no markers yet, just their hoof tags on the ground. Twilight hadn’t recognized any of the names, not like she knew Sunset. Her inner dread that her brother, or maybe Starlight… she wouldn’t be facing it today.

Granted, there was still some of that horror left, though it had transformed. This was the escape pod. Where’s the ship?

Equestrian ships all had ident transmitters. In the Equus system, that would mean very little, but here—here any friendly ship would be able to track any other.

There was no signal from a ‘Solstice.’

“Hi Twilight,” Pinkie waved weakly to her from just outside the pod. A series of objects was spread on the ground in front of her.

Personal effects, emergency tools. At first Twilight couldn’t see anything interesting. But that didn’t mean she should assume. “Found anything?”

Pinkie nodded. “I, uh…” she nudged a display screen closer to Twilight. The surface was cracked, and a layer of water had collected under the glass. Twilight’s eyebrows went up, but she lifted the object up anyway. As it moved, some strange grooves on the back caught the light. Twilight turned it over.

Somepony had carved into the metal with jagged, uneven strokes. Like they’d been using a screwdriver and a hammer.

“IT HUNGERS IT HUNGERS IT HUNGERS IT HUNGERS IT HUNGERS IT HUNGERS IT HUNGERS IT HUNGERS”

Twilight dropped the pad right out of her magic. They went crazy. Somepony… like Pinkie. That’s all this is. A psychological breakdown. We knew it was possible, that’s why we screened so heavily for the space program. We just weren’t strict enough.

“Is this… all you found?”

Pinkie shook her head. She reached down into a bundle of rotten fabric, and drew out a hard plastic case, still closed. It was battered and broken, though despite the damage Twilight could still make out the cutie mark of Princess Celestia melted in.

“What’s in here?” Twilight took it in her magic, a little too forcefully. Pinkie whimpered slightly, pulling away.

“D-didn’t… didn’t open it.”

It was like holding a holy relic. Twilight settled it down at her hooves, then gently eased the clasps open. The rubber seals along the side had obviously suffered, yet somehow they seemed intact. She pushed the lid off, squinting down inside.

There was foam padding inside, rotten and collapsed with age. But the contents were still bone dry.

It was a machine, unlike any Twilight could recognize. Tight bundles of hair thin wire had been wrapped around crystals of yellow and blue at opposite ends.

There were no buttons. The instant the light touched it, a miniscule motor started to spin, and a laser shot straight up into the sky. A tiny speaker spluttered in Starlight Glimmer’s mechanical voice. “Target identified—Proximus B. Reference coordinates: Proximus C, polar orbit, 121 CARDINAL 81 CARDINAL ecliptic. Retrieve immediately.”

There was a harsh crack, and a sudden smell of plastic melting. The object stopped glowing, the crystals going cold and dark.

Twilight shut the case, as though doing so might protect it from further damage.

It was time for new orders…

1. Leave some of the crew behind to farm, investigate the coordinates using the Prospector. The trip will take a few months, and it won’t be exciting. But that doesn’t matter. There’s something in orbit of Proximus C, and we need to know what it is.

2. Investigate the structure. We keep avoiding the best source of information we have. There’s an intact building here, possibly left by the Signalers. Maybe they were the ones who buried the pod.

3. Send Spike to Investigate the coordinates. The Equinox is still basically intact. It won’t be harder for him to repair the ship while in transit than it would be in orbit. We could make a trip up for supplies, then send him away. Spike can handle it.

(Certainty 205 required)

Author's Note:

This chapter's poll!

https://www.strawpoll.me/17337685

What you’re reading is a CYOA-style adventure story, fully driven by its user feedback. This story is written using a system called Mythic, a GM-simulator that allows me to be fully in the driver’s seat for the prose, without actually knowing what will happen next. Success or failure in this story is fully governed by the fickle hand of fate, as well as the wisdom of those who chose to vote on it.

You can go ahead and vote in older polls if you want, but obviously they won’t retroactively change the text going forward, so the links are left behind mostly because I’m lazy and as a record of previous decisions.

If you’d like to take a look at my semi-regularly updated blog post with character sheets and stuff, go ahead and visit here: https://www.fimfiction.net/blog/834930/voyage-of-the-equinox-resource-page

And if you’re curious about the dicerolls and the system, you can see all of it for yourself and verify that I’m not cheating on my discord here: https://discord.gg/mQfUn75

PreviousChapters Next