Chapter 4 - Last Shadow
Lieutenant Swan Song extended her wings, gently easing her Swallow fighter down onto the deck with practiced ease. The sensation of the landing gear touching the deck resonated through the link into her hooves as the fighter settled on the deck.
Ahead of her, a stallion in a yellow jacket with a pair of orange marshaling wands on his wings stood a few canters from her nose, his wings extended to the ground as they completed their duet.
As her engines began to wind down, Swan felt the brief disorientation of the links to her fighter being turned off, one by one. The readouts, artificial horizon, reticles, and sensor data all disappeared from her vision, and she was once again back to being a mere mortal pony.
As her wing braces retracted, folding themselves back into her cockpit, she was confronted by very organic sensations.
Her whole body ached from the tedious mission she and her squadron had just completed. Even worse than the stiff joints and dry throat, her buttocks felt like they had been turned to jelly, and her flight suit now felt like a soggy bag clinging to her body.
The Swallow was a lot of things, but comfortable, it was not.
Outside, the ground crew scurried around in a frenetic rush to secure her squadron's ships. A quiet chuckle escaped her muzzle as Swan saw crew chief Ratchet barking orders from atop an equipment trolley. The wizened steel-grey pegasus stallion coordinated his ground crew like a grizzly drill sergeant and with the bark to match. She winced from the safety of her cockpit as a fresh-faced stallion in an orange high-viz jacket dawdled just long enough to draw the chief’s ire.
Her ship shuddered as it was slowly led off the landing grid and towards its berth at the opposite end of the hangar.
“I’m glad that’s over with,” a stallion's voice buzzed over the squadron’s intercom. “Did you see that mess at the gate? Some idiot opened up an unauthorized jump point right in the middle of traffic. I’d hate to be in charge of untangling that!”
“Yeah,” Swan chuckled. “Those horn-heads are probably wetting their pants right about now. Somepony’s head will roll for sure. At least it won’t be ours, am I right?”
“Tell me about it,” Blitz replied.
Swan allowed herself a smile, casting a glance over to her squadmate’s ship, now waiting for the tow tractor to arrive. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes as her gaze drifted across his newly painted nose art.
An impossibly lithe, butter-coloured pegasus mare in mid-flight adorned the Swallow's nose. The mare's wings were outstretched, her bright green mane billowing out as she rode an invisible wind. The fantasy was coyly looking upwards towards his cockpit, her blue eyes quietly beckoning him to give chase. It always earned a bemused chuckle from Swan every time her squadmate got a new breath of inspiration.
“If I have to look at another rock again, I’ll go insane,” Swan commented as she worked the muscles in her neck, earning a soft pop. Six hours of guarding a dirt pony mining operation had been an exercise in patience and endurance for her squadron. Foalsitting a bunch of miners as they scratched around on some barren asteroids in the middle of nowhere was not what she called fun. If those ore thieves hadn't tried their luck with them, she might have died of boredom.
“I hear that,” he acknowledged wearily. “I don’t know how those earth ponies do it. They were like machines out there.”
Swan grudgingly accepted that it was impressive watching the dirt ponies go to work. Somehow, they had crawled around out there for hours without breaking a sweat. Humiliatingly, it was her squadron that had forced their expedition to return to base, thanks to a dwindling supply of oxygen in the fighters. She could just imagine those muckrakers laughing at them all the way back.
“Dirt’s drawn to dirt,” she grumbled, internally lamenting the fact that the carrier should have been there with them for such a lengthy mission. Not that ‘Lord’ Merry Weather, master of the stars, would risk his ship for something so trivial.
She quickly banished the thought from her mind before it could take root. The last thing she wanted right now was thoughts of him fouling her mood further.
Blitz chuckled, “Careful, Swanny. We’re supposed to play nice with the other tribes.”
Swan gave a derisive snort, the idea leaving a foul taste in her mouth. “If those ponies want to go rolling around in the dirt, then they can do it by themselves. Don’t go dragging us along for the ride.”
“It’s not like we have a choice, Swan,” Blitz reminded her.
She shook her head with a dismissive huff. “Makes me wonder how they ever fought us off.”
“Come on, Swan, isn't that the whole point of Harmony?” he said with a sigh. “Working together with each other?”
A scowl crossed her face, her expression souring. “Don’t tell me you believe the crap they fed us in those pamphlets.”
“What can I say, I’m an optimist.”
“The only way is up, eh?” she commented with a wry smile.
“Exactly!”
Swan glanced over to the rest of her aerie’s ships arrayed out across the far wall, stacked neatly atop each other in their individual bays. There were gaps for those out on patrol, but the vast majority were sitting idle. Some were still draped in the tarps they had been wrapped in when they first arrived on Harmony. A soft sigh escaped her muzzle when she thought of where most of those pilots were at this very moment.
The pilot's capsule slid backwards to rest upon a groove built into the fighter’s back. Gently, the gold-tinted canopy hissed open, releasing Swan from the confines of her cockpit. Disconnecting her helmet from the cockpit, she stood up on shaky hooves, stretching her weary body.
With a soft pop, her helmet collapsed itself before sliding back onto the brace on her neck. The rush of scent and sound of the hangar was overwhelming after the near silence of her ship. Oil, bare metal, and the acrid smell of freshly welded steel assaulted her nostrils, and she greedily took in the scent. Caelum this place was not, but it sure beat recycled air and the odour of her own sweat any day.
Swan clambered out of her ship and hopped down onto the cold hangar deck. The technicians, after waiting patiently for clearance, descended upon her ship like a pack of wolves, popping panels and checking gauges.
“Welcome back, Lieutenant,” Ratchet greeted, his gravelly voice bringing a smile to her face. “Any problems to report?”
"That damn gimbal jammed on me," she reported.
"Again?" he groaned, leaning underneath her Swallow's nose. After a few moments of tinkering and muffled curses, he peered up. "Yep, thing has completely seized. Looks like we'll have to pull the whole mount."
Without a word, two of his deck crew scurried underneath and began unbolting the gun mount.
"Anything else?" he asked.
"Nothing mechanical at least," she replied, rolling her shoulders. The motion caused her to wince as the ache at the base of her wings worsened.
He placed a hoof on her shoulder. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. How many sorties is this now? Three in the last thirty-six hours? Parts I can replace, but I can’t fix a broken pilot.”
Swan gave him a reassuring smile, shrugging off the pain. “I’m fine. Nothing a hot shower and a good meal won’t fix. Besides, somepony has to keep my aerie in order.”
She glanced over to Blitz’s ship. The stallion was currently perched on a wing, chatting with a couple of mares from the ground crew. He was grinning broadly, gesturing wildly as he regaled his audience with an exaggerated tale of their mission. The two mares giggled like a pair of school fillies at Blitz wiggling his eyebrows at them.
That stallion.
“Nice to see somepony still has some energy,” Ratchet commented, his frown hardening as his gaze followed hers. "Still, won't do your aerie any good if you collapse from exhaustion."
“Better out there than in here,” she said with a sigh, her ears flattening. “Did you go to His Lordship’s party last night?”
Ratchet fluffed his wings, his expression shifting to one of disgust. “Like I’d be seen dead in a place like that. Most of my crew feel the same way—not right to be treatin’ ponies like that, even if they are just blackwings.” He paled a little, clearing his throat awkwardly before his expression softened. “No offense.”
Swan fidgeted her discoloured wings uncomfortably and looked away. “None taken.”
He sighed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Listen, I heard from some of my crew about what you did for them a few days ago. Those dirt ponies from maintenance are always comin ‘round here pickin’ fights. Good thing you showed up when you did. So thank you.”
“Happy to put dirt ponies in their place,” she said, managing a smile.
He gave her a slight bow, doffing his cap at her. “It’s appreciated. Speaking of… scuttlebutt says there’s a big operation coming up.”
Swan frowned, raising an eyebrow. “Oh?”
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I got word from the top to have your whole aerie fueled up and ready to go. The other section chiefs have been called up as well, all hush-hush like. A friend in supply says there’s a lot of equipment on the move.”
Swan pondered, scratching her chin with a hoof. There hadn’t been any exercises or drills planned. Say what you will about the station’s dirt pony captain, but he ran a tight ship. Between him and his witch of a first officer, they were always given plenty of advance notice for important things.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll find out one way or another," he said with a reassuring smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and motivate my crew some more. You’d best tend to your flock, Mother Hen.”
He laughed at her scowl, giving her a pat on the shoulder before trotting off to oversee his workers.
Oh, how she hated that nickname.
“Hey, Swanny,” Blitz called, the grey-green stallion trotting up to her with his usual swagger. “The chief have much to say?”
Swan gave him a hard look that made him pause. “Only that he’d prefer if you didn’t hit on his deck crew.”
Blitz shrugged, giving her an easy smile. “Come on, if he had a problem, he’d have chewed me out by now.”
“Who says he isn’t going to?” she replied coyly. “I don’t want to have to drag your tail out of another fight with an angry husband.”
“That was one time!” he exclaimed, blushing slightly. “How was I supposed to know she was married? I can’t help it if mares want what I got.”
He puffed up his chest, doing his best heroic pose, like the ones from the recruitment ads.
“Uh huh,” she deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.
“Gotta unwind somehow, Swanny,” he said with a wink.
“Just keep your recreational activities off the flight deck, okay?” she said, shaking her head as she conceded defeat.
“Speedster’s honour,” he said, standing to attention and saluting with a wing. “But enough about work. How about we go and grab a bite to eat before hitting the showers? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
A grumble from her stomach announced her body’s approval of the idea. She was in the mood to eat something fatty and decidedly unhealthy after the day she’d had.
As usual, however, duty called. Swan saw the familiar forms of the rest of her squadron fluttering up to join them. Blitz straightened himself, taking position beside her as they approached.
“Best make it good for our little brood of chicks, eh?” he whispered.
Swan hid her scowl as they landed before her, arranging themselves like they were on the parade ground. They all looked weary, their eyelids drooping even as they stood before her. Even so, they all gave her a sharp salute as she regarded them.
They were all youngsters, barely out of their teens. Like so many in her aerie, this was their first posting off-world. She pitied them that this was where they had ended up: stuck with dirt ponies, horn-heads, and Merry Weather.
Still, they had jumped into their assignment with admirable fervour. She never had any shortage of volunteers when trying to fill her duty rosters. Serving a pony like Merry Weather had its perks at least—if you turned a blind eye to the disproportionate number of mares her aerie possessed.
“At ease,” Swan said softly. “You all did a great job out there today.” They slouched and a few gave relieved smiles. “But that doesn’t mean you get to slack off.”
She turned to a mint green stallion with a white mane, he tensed as their eyes met. “Nose Dive, you keep drifting out of formation. Make sure you pay attention to your surroundings.” She switched quickly to the purple mare on his right. "Spiral, you nearly collided with the mining platform during your patrol, I know dirt ponies are slow, but don’t let that distract you.”
They listened, replying with a quick 'Yes, ma’am!’ when she called them out. Most were only minor mistakes, hardly worth mentioning, but her younger squadmates listened intently. They were eager for any meagre wisdom their elder could provide. She knew that a blackwing rarely got much help from their instructors at the academy. If only she had more to teach than simple flying.
“Okay, that’s enough criticism for today,” Swan said with a soft smile. “We'll smooth down the rough edges with more flight time. Now go and get something to eat and get some rest. That’s an order.”
She gave them a salute, and they returned it with eager gusto. They then quickly took to the air, spurred on by the promise of hot food and a warm bed.
Blitz let out a sigh as he watched them fly away. “Damn, they make me feel so old.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well, now that the Mother Hen has finished tending to her chicks, how about we go and relax ourselves?” he said, fluffing his wings with a waggle of his eyebrows.
Swan let out a tired sigh, her ears drooping, “I can’t. I need to deliver my report to Merry Weather.”
“Can’t it wait? He’s probably too drunk to read it anyway,” he grumbled, irritation heavy in his voice.
Swan shook her head, “In truth, I’m really hoping he is drunk.” She wasn’t in the mood to be dealing with his antics at the moment.
Blitz’s stance softened. “I’ll come with you if you’d like.”
“Thanks,” she nodded.
Together, they took to the air and headed towards the crew quarters. They passed through the hangar and out into the vast interlinked maintenance bays beyond. Divided into sections by enormous blast doors, the bays handled all the day-to-day maintenance of Harmony’s flotilla of ships. Looping around in a great ring, they made up the outer sections of the Harmony docks.
As they neared the pressure door leading off to the crew quarters, they noticed a large crowd gathered outside. She spotted her squadmates amongst them, along with other ponies from the maintenance division.
“What’s this all about?” Swan asked, getting a shrug from Blitz.
As they came in to land, she could feel a broiling tension in the air. Wings were bristled and ears swiveled or were flattened to ponies’ heads. A nervous cacophony of chatter emanated from the group, and more than a few paced nervously about with brows furrowed. The whole group looked ready to leap into the air in panic at any moment.
“Lieutenant!” came a familiar voice as Cinnamon Swirl fought her way out of the crowd to join them.
“Cinnamon?” Swan frowned. “Shouldn’t you be off-duty?”
The chocolate brown mare’s ears flattened. “I was, until I heard the news.”
“What’s happened? An accident?” Swan tensed, her thoughts running a million canters a minute.
“Worse. It’s Last Shadow,” Cinnamon revealed with a whisper, shrinking where she stood. “She’s here on Harmony.” The mare glanced back and forth as if speaking the name out loud might summon the mad alicorn right before her eyes.
Flurry Heart… Swan froze, her blood running cold at the mere mention of the name. Her pupils shrank, and she felt the breath catch in her chest. The hangar felt like it was spinning, the noise from the crowd becoming muffled.
“Are you sure?” Blitz asked skeptically. “Those colts in flight ops are probably just yanking your chains.”
“No way," Cinnamon said with a fervent shake of her head. "I heard there was a big commotion up in C&C. It looks like they're trying to keep this on the down-low."
That explained why Swan hadn't heard anything on the flight back. If word got out that they had let Last Shadow onboard, it would've caused a riot.
"Do we know what docking bay she's in?" Swan asked, her eyes narrowing.
"Two, I think," Cinnamon replied. "Raspberry said she saw Snow Drift and some security goons heading that way."
"Then let's go, I need to see this for myself," Swan said firmly, trotting towards the exit.
"Are you crazy?! What if she's there?" Cinnamon gasped, her wings trembling.
"At least we'll know for sure," she replied calmly. "It'll be safer if you both stay here."
"No way," Blitz said with an eager grin. "If she's here, I want to get a look at her."
"I guess I'm in too," Cinnamon groaned.
"You don't have to, Cinnamon," she said, placing a hoof on her shoulder. “This is my job.”
"No, you're my squadmate and we have to stick together," she insisted, swallowing and straightening herself. "I just hope if we catch sight of her, it's from really far away."
"Don't worry, we're only going to confirm," Swan assured.
Fighting comes later, she thought to herself.
They then made their way quickly down through Harmony's maze of docking pads and maintenance yards. Bay two was more isolated than the rest, meant for containment if they were forced to bring something nasty on to the station. Thus it made perfect sense as a cage for Last Shadow.
Swan felt a heavy sense of anticipation grip her as they approached the bay. To have Last Shadow so close after all this time, it was tantalizing. She wasn't about to let this opportunity slip by.
They soon stood before the pressure door leading to docking bay two. Swan half expected the door to have been ripped off by now, given everything she knew of Last Shadow, but everything appeared normal. Two security earth ponies stood on either side of the door, coming to attention as she approached.
"I am Lieutenant Swan Song," she greeted calmly, giving them a salute. "I heard you have something special in there, and I'd like to take a look."
"Yes, ma'am," an earth pony stallion replied with a thick accent that made Blitz snigger behind her. "Though keep what ya see to yourself. The captain wants this all kept hush hush-like. Don't want to scare the civvies or the pill— the local pegasi."
The stallion gave an awkward cough and fell silent.
Swan simply gave him a bemused smile. "Thank you, corporal, I'll be sure to remember that."
Dirt ponies, she shook her head.
As they stepped through the door, Swan Song gasped at the sight of the ship sitting idle in the bay, a small cordon of guards surrounding it.
Resting on a trio of tall landing gear, it was slightly larger than a Skylark corvette in length, and nearly twice as tall. Its jet-black fuselage was long and broad, like the blade of a finely crafted Xiphos. A curved humpback ran along the ship's spine with a bulging cargo bay and ramp on the underside. A set of double delta wings arched gracefully from her hull, ending in two contoured weapons pods. Towards the rear were two massive triangular vectored engine nozzles, as well as a few devices Swan had never seen before.
There was no nameplate on it, but Swan knew this ship anywhere: the Fleeting Dream, a ship as infamous as the one who piloted it.
Blitz let out an awed whistle as he regarded the ship. "Damn, I never thought I'd see this ship up close like this. A lot bigger than I thought."
"It gives me the creeps," Cinnamon commented.
As Swan approached it, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, as if she were in the presence of a sleeping predator. She tried to shake it off, but irrational fear gripped her, drying her mouth. She had seen this ship so many times in her youth and had burned the image of it into her memory. The sight of it swatting Republic fighters out of the air during the war had horrified her as a child, and being so close to it now reawakened old memories and fears.
Even so, Swan felt the urge to reach out and touch this ship, as if to confirm it was really there.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," one of the guards warned. "That alicorn put some kind of field on it when she left with Lieutenant Commander Snow Drift. If you don't want to be put on your ass, no touchy." He then quickly added, "ma'am."
Swan chose to ignore the sarcasm thick in the guard's voice. "How long ago was that?"
"Ten minutes ago I think. We just got here ourselves," he shrugged.
Ten minutes! Last Shadow could be anywhere by now.
"Thank you," she said, briskly giving the guard a nod before turning to Blitz and Cinnamon. "We have to inform His Lordship about this."
"You really think he'll do anything against her?" Blitz grumbled, bristling his wings.
"He will," she replied firmly. "Because I'm going to make him."
<=======ooO Ooo=======>
There was a reason the officer’s mess and accommodation block had earned the nickname ‘The Palace’. The crest of the Pegasus Republic adorned every door—a pair of golden arching wings, clutching a starfield. The once bare metal corridors were draped with red sashes along with airy paintings of the skies of Caelum. It was a brave attempt to mimic the halls of the royal court back home. In the harsh artificial light of the corridor, however, it just looked gaudy and a bit pathetic.
As Swan and Blitz trotted through the corridors, they passed remnants of last night’s festivities. One of the crew of Merry’s carrier lay asleep on the floor, dozing off his excesses. Swan imagined the punishments she would have endured if she had been caught like this. Bile rose in her throat as she trotted past—the thought of these ponies wearing the Emperor’s uniform sickening her to her core.
Blitz had remained silent during their journey, trailing behind her. That alone told her that he was worried. Every time she looked back at him, his eyes and thoughts were elsewhere, a listless melancholy to his steps. No doubt he was thinking the same thing she was—just what was Last Shadow doing here? The alicorn had disappeared after the war, emerging only to prey on ally and enemy alike. For her to brazenly come knocking at Harmony’s door meant something big was going on. Worse still, Swan and Blitz both knew that they would be the first ones thrown into the grinder if things got messy. Though, in Swan’s case, that suited her just fine.
Eventually, they arrived at what was supposed to be the pilot's lounge. It had been taken as Merry Weather’s throne room, of sorts, where he and his crew whiled away the day with drinking, gambling, and worse. She hesitated at the doorway, casting a glance back toward Blitz. “Wait here, I won't be long.”
Blitz nodded, sitting down beside the door. “Be careful in there. You know how Merry gets when he hears unwelcome news.”
“I will.”
“Just call if you need me. I’ve got your back,” he assured firmly.
“Thanks,” she said, managing a weak smile. After a pause, she took a slow, measured breath and stepped inside.
The overpowering stench of burnt aerohol and incense, mixed with sweat, assaulted her senses. Swan let out a snort as the miasma tickled at her nose and fogged her vision. She tried in vain to cool herself with her wings, but it only served to move the hot, damp air around her.
The room was bathed in the flickering golden light of a dozen lamps that dotted the den. Shadows danced across the walls and through the gossamer white curtains that divided the room. A haphazard collection of brightly coloured floor cushions and pillows lay in clusters on the deck, surrounding shisha pipes billowing wispy, white smoke into the air. Ponies lay sprawled across them, some dozing contently while others lay in a dazed stupor with vacant, slack-jawed expressions on their faces.
Whispers and laughter soon found their way to Swan’s ears as the more alert of the throng became aware of her presence.
“Oh look, it’s our lord's favourite blackwing,” a stallion chuckled with amusement. “All geared up in that tight little flight suit. Maybe she is here to give us a show?”
“His very own toy soldier,” a mare giggled. “Perhaps she will do a little march for us?”
Their barbed words dug deep, but her years in Merry’s service had given her a thick hide. She focused on her goal, which lay just beyond this minefield of debauchery.
Soon, familiar faces emerged from the haze. She recognized several stallions from her aerie busy cleaning up the leftovers from the festivities. A few gave her a nod as she passed by, but most were dragging their hooves, fighting to stay awake after what must have been a long night.
Swan eventually reached the largest of the dens, that was reserved for the master of these sorry excuses for ponies. It was hidden behind thick curtains, like somepony had set a tent up in the middle of the room. The soft, hauntingly beautiful notes of a panpipe drifted out from within.
Swallowing, she cleared her throat. “My lord, are you… unoccupied?”
“Who is it?” Came a slightly high-pitch stallion’s voice that instantly grated on her nerves.
“Swan Song, my lord. I have urgent news,” she said.
“Oh?” Came a disinterested reply, followed by a snort. “Very well, you may enter.”
Doing her best to smooth out her sour expression, she passed through the curtain and into Lord Merry Weather’s court. There, the fat oaf sat on a cloud couch, his bulk sinking into the discoloured puff of cloud. He wore no uniform, his rusty brown coat and blonde mane always remaining perfectly styled regardless of what he got up to. At his hooves, lay three mares from Swan’s aerie, resting on purple, velvet cushions. Of the trio, two of them looked away, cheeks bright red with shame, while the third simply lay listless, gazing at her through half-lidded eyes.
Swan gave them each a soft, gentle smile and a supportive nod in their direction. She understood those feelings of shame and embarrassment all too well.
Sitting beside Merry was his shipmaster, Downdraft, lingering there like a bad odour. The dark-green stallion was meant to be directing flight ops, though the only orders he seemed capable of issuing lately were to ask for another bottle. He was the reason why Swan’s workload was five times what it was meant to be.
To the left, the composed form of Calliope stood, her wings outstretched, feathers drifting across the wind pipes before her. The purple mare could have been a songstress in the orchestras of Caelum, had she not been branded. Instead, Merry Weather kept her like a caged bird, constantly playing for his amusement.
“Ah, my dear Swan Song,” Merry greeted, his eyes carrying a predatory glint. “Such a shame you missed the party last night.”
“Forgive me, I had to plan for the next day’s mission,” she said, dropping to her knees and spreading her wings. “My lord, I have urgent news.”
“If it’s another dull report of you foalsitting dirt ponies, I’m not interested,” he said with a haughty tilt of his head “I’ve had that bore Oakheart pestering me for the past three hours over some trivial nonsense.”
Swan frowned but said nothing. Was this linked to the operation that Ratchet had heard about? Maybe this was all to prepare for Flurry Heart’s arrival?
“Has no pony told you?” she asked, her eyes darting between the others only to be met with shrugs.
“Told me what? Spit it out, would you?” he huffed, fluffing his wings.
“The brigand Flurry Heart has just arrived on station,” she stated grimly.
His ears perked, the colour draining from his face as he sat up. “S-she’s here?”
“Yes, I believe she docked some twenty minutes ago, my lord,” she replied.
“And you just let her dock unmolested?” Merry hissed, flaring his wings and making the mares at his hooves shy away.
At his silent command, the enchantments in Swan’s wings began to crackle with restrained electrical pulses. Her mind raced to find a way to still his wrath.
“I rushed here as soon as I had confirmed her arrival,” she said, adding enough earnesty in her voice to sound convincing. “Your safety was my first concern, my lord.”
“And if she had been here, would you have defended me?” he asked.
“With my life,” she said, slightly depressed that she actually meant it. If defending this fool meant she had a chance to take down Last Shadow, the blow to her pride was more than worth it.
Merry hopped down from his cloud and trotted over to her. “Yes, I have no doubt you would have. You’ve always been my most loyal pet,” he said fondly, his hoof running through her mane, making her body tense. She focused on the floor and tried to ignore the brush of his wings against hers.
“I live to serve,” she cringed, wishing the deck would give way and swallow her whole.
“The question now is, how do we respond?” Merry mused, talking more to himself than her.
"Lord Merry Weather," Downdraft uttered. "We should escape while we have the chance. If Last Shadow corners you here there’s no telling what she’ll do."
Merry Weather said nothing, merely humming in thought.
“My lord, we need more informa—” Swan began, only to have his hoof press her head down into the deck.
“Shh, I’m thinking,” he said, grinding his hoof into her skull.
Maybe if you actually read your damn mail, we wouldn’t be in this situation, she thought through clenched teeth. Have to bite the bullet or we’ll be here all day.
“Perhaps, if you allowed me to go and find out the intentions of the other tribes,” she suggested, feeling the pressure on her head ease while he considered. “They wouldn’t have allowed her to dock unless something serious was going on.”
Merry mulled over her proposal, his wings fluttering involuntarily as he thought. Gradually, a small smile crept onto his muzzle.
“A fine idea! Go then, find out what those dullards are up to," he said, lifting his hoof from her head. “Report back to me what you find.”
“At once,” she said, rising to her hooves as he waddled back to his cloud. She turned to leave, but the anger in her belly demanded she stay. “My lord, if I may, I have a request.”
Merry stopped, tilting his head backwards to regard her. “Oh?”
“If I encounter the brigand, allow me the honour of attempting her capture,” she asked.
“You?” he laughed. “A mere blackwing? I did not know you desired to leave my service so badly.”
“The Emperor demands her capture,” she said, fervour creeping into her voice. “We can’t allow an enemy of the Republic to flounce around unchallenged. We would shame ourselves as pegasi.”
Merry's smile widened like he'd just heard a funny joke. “You blackwings are up to your flanks in shame.” He lifted one of the nearby mare’s faces with a hoof, playfully stroking her chin. “A little more won’t hurt you. I will not provoke that monster, especially over something as trivial as a traitor's honour.”
Of course you wouldn’t, you coward, she thought bitterly. She would have to try a different tack with him.
“If we force Flurry Heart’s hooves, the other tribes will have to respond. Her capture would be assured,” she offered. “Imagine the prestige you would earn back home if you brought her back in chains.”
Merry’s eyes glazed over for a moment as he pondered the idea. “Yes, that does have a certain appeal,” he murmured almost to himself. She could imagine the idiot fantasizing his glorious return home. Then, his expression became more wistful. "It pains me to think I might lose you, my dear Swan. Finding mares as uniquely skilled as you is a hard thing these days."
Merry's eyes lingered on her before he let out a sigh. "No matter. Very well, you may proceed.”
“Thank you, my lord,” she said with a relieved sigh.
“Your actions will be given a favourable mention in my report home, should you succeed,” he said, sinking back into his cloud with a sigh. “Oh, and Swan Song?”
“Yes, my lord?”
“Be sure to die well,” he said with a grin before turning his attention back to his mares.
Swan trotted outside and let out a heavy sigh, a grim smile creeping on her face. What she was about to do was insane and suicidal, yet she felt strangely giddy, almost euphoric. It wasn’t often the pony that ruined your life fell into your hooves.
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My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
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I wonder if the powers-that-be that let Flurry on the station knew that she'd get this reaction from the pegasi. Wonder what Swan's intended method of capture is, and whether there will be interference from the other tribes given Flurry's (current) status as a guest.
I'm really not the biggest fan of what Merry has set up here. Wonder what betrayal netted Swan in this situation.
I'd be interesting if Flurry ends up escaping with Swan in tow for some reason or another and they have to begrudgingly work together to survive and save Nyx, leading the two becoming friends and Swan's eventual freedom/redemption/revenge on Merry. That's probably not interesting enough of a direction to go in, though.
Well, who would do such a thing?
Must be a ruffian. 
It seems Equestrian virtues are no longer in practice, the tribes hate each other again, especially the earth ponies got the short end of the stick. Tribalism and xenophobia, surely Equestria's founders would be ashamed! Ashamed I say! Harmony, once the driving force of ponykind, now reduced to nothing more but words on a pamphlet. The sadness!
But well, it could be worse... guess they are lucky that there are no "Space Windigos"... *looks at the monster on the fic's cover* All my nope!
And Flurry seems to be an infamous war veteran, though she isn't liked by any of the two sides. At least Swan Song's musings are making such an impression. Last Shadow is most likely a moniker Flurry was given from the Pegasus Republic, and the Blackwings suffered greatly from her actions during the war, for they fell from grace and were ridiculed by an alicorn. Now Swan Song is bent on revenge.
Be aware of the edge Flurry, you have a follower. But not in a good way.
Merry Weather is some kind of pegasus Jabba the Hood, a rich coward who only wants to enjoy the good sides of life. Though he is scared shitless from only hearing Flurry's name. A 'lord' without balls. He feels so much fear that he should be renamed into "Wet Feather", ha! What a great joke, I only thought about it like 2.45 seconds.
Merry's quite correct in how crazy Swan's plan is.
Whatever experience and skill Swan has would pale in comparison to Flurry. And we're not even talking about the Alicorn aspect yet.
Swan's poking the dragon here. The only thing going for her is that Flurry is (mostly) level-headed and is focused on a mission to save someone precious. Also, Flurry is probably a far cry from the apparently blood-thirsty Last Shadow everyone seems to fear. At worst, Swan is gonna pull through with a relatively minor curbstomp, I think. Nothing a few days in the hospital can't fix.
10190160
They're in for quite a reunion if Flurry can pull this off
Oh yes
... I'm reading this, and I'm thinking of each of the Race's ship designs. You already mentioned the larger ships of the Earth Pony/Zebra Alliance (I think that's what they were calling themselves? I'm terrible early on at keeping things straight.) Now we have this Empire of Pegasi with sleek designs and curves and all that for their fighters. I can't wait to see what the Unicorns have.
https://www.warhammer-community.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/AeronauticaBattles-Aug30-DoubleEagle5pr.jpg
By the by, this is what I imagine Earth Pony fighters to look similar to... Also yes Games Workshop has finally, finally rereleased Aeronautica Imperialis in glorious Plastic. I am buying it. Luna help me, and the Emperor be praised.
10191081
Yeah, the pegasi have a very Eldar/Alderai feel to them with their vehicle designs.
And yes it is the Earth-Zebra Alliance
Although they tend to not be good flyers there's definitely a blend of asthetics with their zebra allies when it comes to aircraft. You're definitely right in that they have a b-17 'strap as many guns as can fit' approach.
10191137
I'm trying to picture Unicorn ships and all I keep coming back with is: Over designed, over budgeted, gawdy as all hell. I mean Dear LUNA, it belongs on my crazy mother's birdbath! Not on the battle line! Did... Oh GAWD they did! They gold filigreed the entire bridge! Just... Dear heavens just shoot it! Shoot it now before we all gag on the absurdity of it all! Before it's too late!
10191154
One thing the Federation suffers from.is a low birth rate, so their warships have to rely on a high degree of automation to operate. Also, being able to bend the laws of physics lets you design some exotic warships.
Hmm. I wonder what Flurry Heart did to garner such a reputation, because clearly this goes well beyond the acts of petty piracy she started the story out doing. It also makes me how much of it is actually deserved, but I suspect there might be a bias against her here...but time will tell.
10191154
We spent a fair bit of time on tribal ship aesthetics.
As Duvet said, they tend to go for the exotic. Here is an example of what a unicorn craft might look like:
i.pinimg.com/736x/75/6c/1f/756c1f0a348fd812e0a5561a5cb67482--spaceship-concept-spaceship-design.jpg
Note: This is not an actual design we're using -- just an example of a theme.
10191154
media.discordapp.net/attachments/456521008304619521/701874940407840959/d5vifo7-40fe2bb2-db4d-40da-9c87-060b80265d57.png?width=956&height=505
Just one of the crazy designs that Federation shipbuilders are capable of
10191680
I... I want to hit it... With the biggest stick in the Universe. Repeatedly. Until it goes away. I am so much a big blocky Imperial Navy Ship boi that that kinda design just... Chafes on me. It looks like one of those deep sea jellyfish. I'd probably be a shoe in for the Alliance Navy's design bureau.
10191667
Still not garish enough. No Gold for one. Though the heads and statues really put it up there.
10191772
hehe, a true Alliance man, I see
10191942
Hilariously yes, even crazier when you consider that most of the OCs I've created end up being Pegasai.
Having read through the first four chapters, I think I can safely say that I'm interested in seeing where this goes. Kinda curious to see more of how Equestria went interstellar.
10197004
glad you're enjoying it!
AND THUS THE PLOT THICKENS.
Also I imagine people have already said this but I’m getting me a lot of Jabba the hut, and though I haven’t read dune, I’m getting Baron Vladimir Harkonnen vibs too. There’s just something feels so appropriate about have some really fat person surround by wealth and concubines in sciences fiction. Like its someone who has all the power who hasn’t worked for it at all pushed up to 11, and I’m hoping it’s gunna make his downfall all the more satisfying.
I was wondering when we were gunna meet someone like Swan, who’s been personally effected by Flurry’s actions that she probably wasn’t even really thinking about. You can’t live 2000+ years with making enemies. I’ve always loved that idea, that cos she is such a free spirit and lives so long that the consequences are an after thought to her, and why should she care when the likelihood of you meeting someone you’ve messed around is so small when it’s on a galactic stale.
Though I’m expecting flurry to make up for her mistakes, simple cos she is a nice pony at heart, and I image one of those photos she’s got on her ship is of Shining Armour, who she knows she would be disappointing if she didn’t try help the ponies she’s hurt.
I’m loving this fic, annoyed it took me so to read the newest chapter. Can’t wait for the next
10198049
Swan Song: You took everything from me.
Flurry Heart: I don't even know who you are.
Swan Song: You will.
10198100
i.pinimg.com/originals/29/59/8c/29598c6d5e8f88a380c63263c87a0f0e.jpg
10198049
Finally someone saw the reference!
He's totally a mix of the Baron and Jabba, with all the cruelty and cunning to boot.
10198156
So what your saying now is that Flurry needs to chock a bitch
10198171
And the cover art captures his tone perfectly!
Definitely a ponified Baron Harkonnen.
10198247
We’ve met quite a few of the characters on the cover art now, I’m still waiting to meet the alien dragon dude at the back.
10198256
All in good time
10198260
Can’t wait
10191680
Looks more like some kind of alien ship.
10198260
I can tell which ones are Flurry Heart (obviously) and Merry Weather, and I think I've found the Fleeting Dream, but which ones are the others?
10198282
It's more an example of what unicorns are capable of when designing their ships. Magic lets them bend or break the laws of physics so they can end up with unique, one of a kind ship designs.
Swan Song and Blitz are in the foreground, with Nyx standing besides Flurry. The rest of the cast have yet to be introduced.
Quite the interesting world you have crafted, DuvetofReason. It distinctly sounds like this Pegasi 'Republic' is much akin to the Centauri Republic in Babylon 5, ie: Republics in name only, deeply corrupt, and they even both have Emperors.
Flurry Heart having the moniker 'Last Shadow' fearfully applied to her by the Pegasi Republic is giving me strong vibes of Trigger from Ace Combat 7, the Osean ace pilot who'm the whole of the Erusean military came to fearfully call 'The Three Strikes.'
i.pinimg.com/564x/d4/10/0b/d4100bbf0406b9e485bffd4d2725d4bb.jpg
Some deeper tastes of the vast history that separates this moment now from the version of MLP we know. Tensions, "cultural differences," and Flurry carrying a heavy past that goes beyond what we know of her current space pirate notoriety. Always a sign of a good story when you're enjoying the story, swimming along, only to realize you can't touch the bottom anymore. That are greater depths to be explored when the time is right.