Chapter 9
Two weeks comes and goes. As a matter of fact, two entire months simply come and go.
Not one order has been sent to her throughout this time. When she requested to participate in target practice, she was denied. When she had requested fuel, she was denied.
As a matter of fact, just last night, she requested food. Apparently, all of her crew- save herself- are converting their food into their thaumic energy… which is then being lost to decay. Naturally, the loss rate is rather higher than the average solar rate, so the supply with which she has been fabricating meals- no working hydroponics, nor enough to make such- has been dwindling.
The ground crew acknowledged her father’s presence aboard the ship and, it would seem, are now ignoring him. She’s asked Athena for any related news reports, but aside from the reports those months ago from when she revealed the pony thing, there is nothing in the news.
She trots up to her command chair, hopping into it, and glancing at the displays- nothing new. “Athena, how’s the thaumic project going?”
“Thaumic scrubbers complete and operational. Shipboard thaumic levels well below transformation threshold at all points. Life support sustainability increased by ninety-seven percent.”
She sighs. “Thank you. Well, it’s time to call Command again, then.”
“Orders confirmed. Summon bridge crew?”
She nods. “Yep. Just like last time.”
“Summoning.”
She sighs, adjusting herself in the crash couch. Athena rebuilt it for her new form shortly after the quarantine was enacted; at the same time, she had the rest of the crew’s crash couches rebuilt to accept ponies; this has made them exponentially more comfortable. She particularly likes how the couches are designed to handle pegasi and non-pegasi interchangeably, without modification.
It takes about ten minutes for her bridge crew to show. As usual, Sta’leen is one of the first, taking his seat next to hers with practiced ease. “We lobbying for food again?” he asks.
She shakes her head. “As much as I’d love to, no. Instead, Athena finished the thaumic scrubbers, making it safe for humans to come aboard.” She sighs. “I might be able to get them to send someone up here- someone that can experience the deficiency first-hoof and maybe arrange for more to be sent up. Or for a quick refuelling trip to be authorized!”
“Ahh… How much are we saving by reclaiming our excess thaumic energy?”
“Sustainability increase of ninety-seven percent.”
“So… we’ve got a month and a half now.”
She nods. “Sounds about right.” She looks back forwards, watching her tactical officer- the mare with neither wings nor horn- trotting to her station. She’s so far turned out to be much stronger than anypony else… except herself. “I half expect they’ll want us to go down there again. So long as they don’t put us in danger, that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“What about the ship?”
She sighs. “I’m not about to give her away. She’s about the only thing keeping them from killing us outright.” She shudders. “I’m hoping they never find out what she’s programmed to do if we do die.”
He mirrors the shudder, before glancing around the bridge and looking up at the big viewscreen. “Right then. I think everypony’s here.”
“Affirmative,” Chief Ta’leer states, from his station by the door.
She nods. “Roger that. Let’s call Command.”
“Placing call,” Athena states, displaying it on the big screen.
She almost sighs, being reminded once again that the only bridge officer she doesn’t have is the comms officer.
It takes Command a long time to answer the call.
She lets out a sigh as the inexperienced human shuttle pilot lights off full strength to his thrusters while still inside Athena’s docking bay. A quick glance to her side shows her exec with a similar expression. On his other side, her chief engineer looks like she wishes she were a unicorn… again. Unfortunately, though, the pegasus can’t just teleport up to the cockpit to give the crew a piece of her mind. After all, that burn probably did significant damage to some of the delicate systems filling those bays.
She hopes Athena’s manufacturing capability extends to self-repair- and that the ship thinks to use it before the engineer returns aboard. She’d rather avoid the fiasco that would ensue should the engineer discover the damage from the thrusters. Mind, there’ll probably be a fiasco anyways, but it won’t be as bad.
So, why is she in this standard United Space Administration shuttle? Easy. The ground crew wants her and her crew, along with her parents, on the ground. They’re also sending up a few engineering teams to examine the ship.
She’s not all that excited about it; as a matter of fact, she had argued to have noone sent aboard, but they hadn’t agreed. So she had told them they’d have to bring their own food, and instructed Athena not to manufacture food for them the way she’s been doing for her crew.
She lets out a sigh. So far, the ground crew still doesn’t know her crew is slowly producing thaumic energy and bleeding it out into their surroundings. Neither do they know that she can produce enormous amounts of it in a very short time.
Nor that, as near as Athena has been able to tell, she has stopped aging. She hasn’t told any of her crew about that either, and has also instructed Athena not to tell them. The computer had rather helpfully agreed that her medical information is hers and hers alone, unless she chooses to share it.
She stares at the wall in front of her. At least she won’t have to worry about starving to death… in theory.
The air explodes behind him as he smashes his way through the sound barrier. It would be a rather severe understatement to say he’s glad he had his daughter teach him to fly.
A similar understatement would be that he’s glad it was an evening flight, so the sky was darkening quickly by the time they landed.
He is not glad he wasn’t able to pull his wife or daughter out as well. He prays his daughter, at least, noticed in time to escape herself.
They had not been summoned to the surface for closer observation of the effects of the thaumic energy. If they had, they would not have been taken to a containment facility. They would not have been drugged.
He shakes his head slightly, forcing himself to stay awake, as he races over the suburbs. They drugged him too- and, unlike his daughter, he recognized the feeling. It’s a simple knockout drug; not one of the fastest, nor most effective. However, if regularly dosed with a miniscule amount of another, normally useless drug, they’ll never wake. Normally used to keep artificially-grown brains- or bodies- from awakening, becoming sentient… and becoming legal entities. Also useful for suspended animation.
They won’t be able to prevent that now; his daughter and her crew are already legal entities, so they can’t kill them, at least. He’ll…
He quickly decides he’s glad his new form is a pegasus for several reasons, the latest one being the sharper eyesight. He just spotted a suitable tree- a good platform of branches, decently high up, and well-hidden by the surrounding branches- from almost a mile away. He slows below the speed of sound as he approaches the woods, then dips under the treetops for the last quarter mile or so, before landing in the protected tree and shuddering. He can feel the dreaded chemical working; he’ll be unconscious in less than a minute. He settles himself carefully on the branches.
He’ll have to plan when he wakes up, probably in a couple days. He’ll have to figure out how he’s going to take his wife, his daughter, and her crew back, get them free.
He sets his head down on his forelegs, and lets himself doze off. The drug will be forcing it before long anyways.
She lets out a small scream when she finds herself, very suddenly, in the woods outside of town. She’d been in that entry hall before, arriving at whatever facility that was with her family and her daughter’s crew. She almost charges up her horn to teleport herself back, but she stops herself at the last second. That jump had felt very much like her daughter’s magic- so, it must have been to protect her. Plus, right before she had disappeared, her husband had taken off and smashed through the window.
She glances to her right, where the doctor with the syringe had been. The one that had been coming for her, specifically; he had been about to administer the injection. They had said it was a simple vaccine, to make sure they wouldn’t catch something she hadn’t caught.
She shudders, and starts moving through the woods. A little pause to power her horn instantly reveals a good hiding place not far away, though up a tree. She smiles as she walks; she is glad she had invented that notation for describing her magic. Her daughter had looked at it, but hasn’t seemed to have figured it out just yet; nopony else has given it even a moment’s thought.
The same had not been true for her daughter’s ship. When she had given it her notation, it had requested a few demonstrations and corresponding ‘matrices’, she’s calling them. After all, a magic matrix does sound better than a magic sentence or something… though it does seem to be more like an equation. She hasn’t been able to figure out any such mechanic for how she might design a new spell- but her daughter’s ship, again, had no trouble. This navigation spell has a twenty-seven symbol matrix, far more complex than anything she’d been able to come up with. She understands the crew has been sticking with the standard levitation- which she described with a two-symbol matrix.
No. This navigation spell is the ship’s invention. It took her four days to cast it correctly- then, she never got lost again.
She trots forwards, keeping her ears open. She does not want to be caught unawares; the only way she can fight would be to levitate… or teleport and run. She probably should have looked into combat spells. She’ll check out her safe spot and review the area before she starts trying to figure out exactly why her daughter teleported her so far away.
Admiral Wolf drops his cheery expression as soon as the com call goes dead. “Give ‘em a month, they’ll be as good as dead,” he grumbles, rising from his desk. He snags his rifle, slinging it over his back as he leaves the room.
He checks into the family room on his way. “Hey, honey. I’m going to be in the woods for the next couple hours, okay?”
His wife looks up at him, raises an eyebrow, and nods. “I might join you soon,” she states.
“Roger that,” he nods, before fetching his briefcase from the foyer and continuing on the way out of the house. He sets a course for the forest, for that one tree both he and his wife have been using for this purpose for decades.
He had gotten the call from one of the junior officers. Directly contrary to his orders, Commander Matthews and her crew had been pulled down from the ship… to where his officers couldn’t protect them. He’s been fighting to keep them up there for weeks, against the constant arguing of several officials and many officers- not Space Police officers, but Space Administration officers- he would have imprisoned long ago if he could. He’s pretty sure they want to dissect the ponies.
He’s also been fighting to get supplies sent up to them. Food, fuel, even air. Even a ship that large can’t hold an infinite supply- and, judging by the numbers he’d pulled before Commander Matthews had been assigned, that ship is not fully supplied… by a long shot.
Perhaps he should have contacted them directly, communicated with them. He might have been able to keep them on that ship- and, perhaps, find out exactly what the thing is capable of… so, exactly what it needs, and how soon. Unfortunately, without her crew’s consent, that ship won’t tell anyone anything. He approves of that order, actually; she’d slapped the idiots running the USA in the Space Lord’s absence in the face. She’d responded to their quarantine by denying them access to the data on the very magic they want to look at so bad.
He has made sure that the quarantine is not enforced. Only an idiot would have placed it; it’s not like any of the ponies were planning on going to the surface… and besides, it’s residual energy. The kind that fades away on its own and doesn’t spread. All they’d have to do is wait until it fades before sending more people aboard. Or, put a hold on the crew flights and request a couple of personnel to come to the surface for testing!
He only has limited data on exactly what the ponies can do, but so long as it’s safe, everything he’s heard suggests the transformation is beneficial- that it would be ideal to get as many people as possible transformed before the residual energy finishes fading away.
To the best of his knowledge, there are four known kinds of pony- though the first is unique to the Captain for some reason. She hadn’t specified in her press release- but she doesn’t have anything special that none of the other three have. Rather, she seems to be a combination of the three.
There are the pegasi. Aside from being able to fly, they can walk normally in microgravity. Two skills that would make them invaluable in space, where moving around is so much harder than down here. Combined with the strange ability to grab things with a flat hoof that all of them share, the pegasi really aren’t losing anything for the gains.
There are the unicorns. They can’t fly, nor can they walk so simply in microgravity. They do seem to be able to grab the hand rails with their hooves, though it isn’t nearly as strong as a human hand. So, a mobility disadvantage, against regular humans, in space.
In exchange, they gain a magic horn. They don’t have to touch things to move them- making them invaluable in space, where a unicorn could watch out a window as they use their magic to guide incoming spacecraft smoothly into the docking cradles. They could easily repair damaged exterior components without requiring extra-vehicular activity- and without putting anyone in the path of any dangerous electrical arcs, micrometeorites, and so on. She’d demonstrated by assembling a small jigsaw puzzle in midair.
There are the regular ponies. She had specified they’re not sure what to call them yet, but they lack both the wings and the horn. The same mobility disadvantage as the unicorns, then.
As for what they gain… they get to be really strong. While that could be advantageous to a boarding party or something, he’s not so sure they would be very useful, as a rule, in space. Fortunately, out of two dozen or so crewmembers, only one turned out to be one such… regular pony. There are many names floating around in the public, but noone seems to be able to settle on what to call them.
Oh- and, as time goes on, he’s willing to bet they’ll find a way to turn one of the regular ponies into a unicorn or pegasus… Or, for that matter, make them into the same thing the Captain is- a combination of all of the strengths of the other kinds. She’s got the flight, she’s got the magic. She’s got the strength too- though she had refused to comment, when asked, on how she had found out.
He marches through the woods on the edge of his property. It’s not far; this nature preserve is only a mile across. He’ll be there soon.
“They’ve been dealt with. We think a couple escaped, but all crew have been accounted for.”
He nods. “Thank you.” He closes the audio-only connection, grinning. “Oh, you’re gonna be mine…” He touches the keys on his terminal, dialing up the ship. He straightens his face as he goes- it wouldn’t do to risk a smart program picking up on things like that.
The call connects instantly, as expected. “You have reached the Starship Athena,” it states, with utter calm. “Please state your business.”
“We have an update,” he states. “All assigned crew have perished in a shuttlecraft accident. Stand by for new assignment.”
He waits with baited breath. Did it take it? Is that all it took?
The delay lasts two seconds, before it responds. “Standing by,” it states.
It takes all his will to hide his elation as he uploads the new assignment.
“Orders received.” It pauses for a second. “System Error: Authority transfer impossible: Insufficient fuel.”
“Wait, What?”
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Looks like Athena learnt Master class level of trolling from Celestia.
Theres far more than 30 seconds buffer just in flowing mass in lifesupport, and that 30 seconds of shipwide power pulled in and compressed down can give someone a very bad day.
Lets see how long it takes Athena tocompute the parameters to using Nikolai Teslas HAARP to short the planetary ionnosphere to stabilise and amplify the warp drives spacetime interface to generate a gravity tramline for the transmat system to scan, target and pull out Command crew.
Looks like the next time Command crew go through Ships Internal Transmat, theyre going to get long range biotracking infused in their magical fields?
9372448
Uh... Not likely. If the ship were capable of worry, they might- but it might be worth note that none if them will be going through the transporters anyways, after what happened when the Captain went through them (Ascension)...
The thing is, finding them isn't the hard part. There's a reason she didn't simply say 'access denied' or 'sure'.
Uh oh. It sounds like someone's been caught out in his plotting. I don't know what it needs fuel for, but I bet it requires brown pants.
I was expecting something like this after their conversation last chapter never thought to mention "politics". :D
9374741
What it needs fuel for... That should be obvious: It has none. More fuel means more power, means more options.