The Warp Core Conspiracy

by Unwhole Hole

Chapter 34: The Fatal Incongruity of Pony and Man

When Celestia breached the door, it shattered with an uncomfortable snap across multiple dimensions, the wave striking every living being with an unnatural vibration as space itself snapped back into alignment while somewhere, elsewhere, at least three Starlight Glimmers stared in confusion as one of their coffee mugs shattered for no apparent reason.

What stepped first through the hole was something at least reminiscent of Celestia. A significant amount of her thermal power had been burned to consume the dimensional carbon, and although Daybreaker had not yet departed Celestia felt a stirring of influence deep within her mental prison.. She saw the room, and she saw the tanks—and what was inside them. The result of her own negligence.

Then she saw the pair of strange, rat-like things. To her, they looked almost exactly identical to the humans. They were bipeds—and she inhaled sharply, because she understood that the situation was worse than she could have imagined. Because not only was she negligent, but she had been warned.

And yet, at this juncture, the only thing that kept the two ferengi alive was the fact that Celestia had not fully realized that they were Flim and Flam. Being a pony, she did not fully understand robotics, or remote controls. She knew that they were responsible, somehow, but was confused as to how, exactly. Celestia herself, in her full form, might have understood, but she trapped herself away, locked in a deep corner of her mind, hiding that insight from the part of herself that would dare to act upon it. She hesitated.

Kirk, though, did not. He understood that they were aliens, although he was not aware of what type; the first formal contact with that particular species would not occur for another seventy-five years. What he did know was that they had, by their actions, endangered the planet itself in more ways than they could possibly imagine—and that they were currently facing atomization by a pony who would never be able to forgive herself for the crime.

He stepped past her, in unison with Rarity. Kirk shouldered his phaser-rifle, and Rarity one of the projectile weapons stolen from the androids—a weapon identical to the one the alien was now holding.

The alien stared at Kirk in a rage, releasing a hiss as he strapped an unknown device to his belt—and his body immediately shimmered for a moment as a force-field was projected around him. Kirk also saw the generate spark and pop, with part of its exposed, incomplete circuitry starting to glow red-hot—although the shield still held for the time being.

The other alien, the smarter one, immediately dropped to his knees, raising both hands over his head.

“Don’t kill me, don’t kill me! I’m unarmed! Please! We were mislead! We shall accept any punishment, just don’t kill us!”

“Put the rifle down,” ordered Kirk, calmly.

“You can have your lobes fondled by your own mother!” swore the alien with a gun, pointing it wildly at the ponies entering the room, surrounding them with spears and magic.

“This isn’t set to stun,” said Kirk. “I can take down that shield in one shot, just put down the gun. Nobody has to get hurt.”

“That remains to be seen,” said Celestia.

“Brother, please!” pleaded the alien on his knees. “They’re Federation! We’ll get a trial, we—Mr. Starfleet Captain, we are surrendering peacefully!”

“NO!” The alien with the gun seemed terrified, but also enraged. “I didn’t work this hard, for this long—do you know what they’ll do to us?! They’re FEDERATION COMMUNISTS, they’ll liquidate our assets! I’d rather be dead, DEAD! And I can take at least one of you out with me!”

“We shall simply stop the bullet,” sighed Luna.

The alien sneered. “Not if it’s dimeritium-jacketed.”

Luna’s expression fell. “Sister...”

Clestia stepped forward. “My student. Twilight Sparkle. Which one of you did that to her?”

The alien on the floor looked down, tears welling in his eyes—but he closed them and summoned what little courage he had.

“I was—I was a doctor, before I had to...because there was no profit in it, I needed to get—get a real job and...” He shook his head. “I knew it was wrong. I KNEW it was wrong, but I didn’t stop? Why didn’t I...why didn’t I just stop?”

“Shut up, SHUT UP!” cried the one with the gun. “You dirty commies, I’ll put a hole in each and every one of you! I need—I need a shuttle craft, and—and one hundred blocks of latinum—TWO HUNDRED—”

“No, you need to calm down,” said Kirk, taking a step forward in sync with Rarity.

“They’re ferengi,” said Rarity, her symbiotic recognizing them. “I was married to one once. They’re too primitive to have technology like this. It’s not theirs.”

“Not as primitive as a HORSE!” The one with the gun pointed it at Rarity, and she stopped.

“Can you fix it?” asked Kirk.

“Excuse me?”

The crying, cowering alien looked up, a look of hope on his face. He turned to Celestia. “I don’t—I don’t know, but if that’s the price for our lives, we will—we will give you any—ACK!”

His brother had kicked him. He was now panting, not even noticing that his defective shield generate was burning a hole in his trousers and partially into his leg.

“Stop talking, you idiot! Nothing is more important than your health—EXCEPT MONEY!”

Rarity spoke. “I had always preferred number 125. And I do believe that in this situation, it is the most applicable, don’t you think?”

The ferengi with the gun’s expression softened. His brother looked up at him, pleading.

“Rule of Aquisition 125, Brother. You can’t make a deal if you’re dead. Please, brother, please...”

Shaking and grimacing, the ferengi winced and lowered the rifle. Kirk breathed a sigh of relief, and just started to loosen the grip on his own weapon.

Then the end of the ferengi’s rifle split, the innards igniting with one last piece of code as violet light surrounded its machinery and as the barrel aperture turned. The ferengi never even pulled the trigger. He did not have enough time to even know what was happening.

The gun fired. Rarity was suddenly thrown back, a puff of silver shooting from the rear of her head. She took a step back, and then slumped to the floor, her own rifle clattering to the tile as she lost her grip on it.

When the ferengi realized what had just happened, he panicked. He raised the rifle, pointing it directly at Celestia’s heart. A rifle loaded with a bullet specifically meant to kill magical beings.

Kirk fired first. The phaser beam struck the ferengi’s shield, and the portable projector overloaded with cataclysmic results. The field imploded, and all Kirk heard was a scream as the ferengi was suddenly reduced to a skeleton, and then to a pile of ash and fragments of clothing.

“BROTHER, NO!”

The surviving ferengi clamored to the pile of his brother’s ash, grasping it and holding it as if he were attempting to put it back together. Kirk watched as tears began to run down the man’s face—and turned as he heard a small voice behind him.

He saw the ponies, and saw the expressions on their faces. He doubted there was a word for the horror he saw etched onto their large eyes. Some turned away and vomited, and some collapsed to their knees, shaking, unable to bear the very thought of what they had just seen. Some just stared, their eyes empty, their minds having instently been shattered by the sight they had just beheld. Even Celestia stared, wide-eyed, her mane partially differentiating back into its normal colors and her eyes clearing of all rage—that range instead being replaced with fear and, far worse than that, the most palpable disappointment Kirk had ever known.

“No, no,” said a small voice. It was coming from Rarity, but the accent was wrong. It had none of her Midatlantic affectation. It was the voice of a trill. “I can’t...I can’t feel her, she’s fading, please...please help...” it was growing weaker. “I can’t...I can’t lose another one, not like this, please...please help her...”

“MOVE,” ordered Tempest, shoving the ponies out of their way. “Get a medic over here, NOW! Somepony with a working horn! Come on, ponies, what did I train you all for?!”

One young stallion, shaken and still deeply in shock, stepped forward. “I don’t...I don’t know what to do...he’s...he’s de...dea...”

“Don’t think about it right now! We have to cauterize. We don’t have time to be careful. I’d do it myself but I can’t, come on! MOVE!”

The unicorn shivered, looking down at her.

“But...”

“Please,” said the symbiote, its own voice fading.

The unicorn took a deep breath, and his horn lit. Kirk heard the hissing, and a weak scream of pain. Then a smell of cooked meat.

“We need to get her to the Enterprise,” he said, stepping forward—only for the ponies still standing to suddenly converge around Celestia, pointing their spears and swords at his chest in defense of their Princess. Kirk was then shoved backward hard by silvery magic.

“Don’t you DARE approach our sister!” snarled Luna.

“Luna, we don’t have time for this--”

“What have you done?”

Celestia’s voice was so soft that everyone in the room fell silent—save for Rarity’s quiet whimpering, and the suppressed sobs of the ferengi.

The ferengi seemed to have forgotten the rest of them were there, holding his brother's ash in his hands. “What am...what am I going to tell mother? Brother, you—you were her favorite, I can’t...I can’t make a profit without you, not all alone...” His sobs became quiet as he hugged the pile of ash and clothing tatters to himself. “You didn’t even...didn’t even get a chance to auction your organs...”

A tear ran down Celestia’s cheek. Her eyes met Kirk. Eyes filled with so much sadness.

“Jim...how could you?”

“He was going to shoot you, I had to--”

“You murdered another being, just…just like that. Like it was nothing.”

The ponies seemed confused by this, but as the realization struck them, many of them dropped their spears and stepped back, confused and in shock. They were unable to mentally rectify the concept of what they had just witnessed.

“I didn’t have a choice!”

Celestia just stared at him. Then looked past him. At the remains of the man who had been murdered in front of his brother. “Is this...is this what you are? What you always were?”

“Celestia, you’re the ruler of the planet, you’ve had to make decisions, you must have--”

“How many have you killed?”

“Excuse me?”

“How many beings have you murdered, Captain Kirk?”

Kirk paused. He did not know how to answer, because he did not know the number. “Sometimes...you have to do what needs to be done.”

Celestia stared back at him. “That is simply not acceptable. I had thought you would know that.” She looked up at the tanks holding the mutilated unicorns used to power alien machines, and down at Rarity, now attended to by a pair of stern medics placing bandages around half her head. Then, finally, she looked up at Kirk.

“Is this what the Federation is? What the world out there is? Violence, pain and death? That even...even you...”

“There’s so much more, please, if we could discuss this--”

“No, Jim. There will be no more discussion.” Celestia sighed. “She was right. I didn’t want to believe her. I couldn't. She told me the aliens would betray us. Somehow I always knew you would but...for you to betray me. I thought you were my friend.”

“I still am!”

“No.” Celestia’s face grew stern. “I hereby recast my vote. We reject your invitation to the Federation. And for your wanton disregard for the sanctity of life and peace, you—and all aliens that may exist in this galaxy—are hereby banned from ever setting foot on this planet again. By Royal Decree.”

“Celestia, please--”

“Get off my planet, Captain Kirk. And never come back.”

Kirk was about to protest again, but he felt Spock’s hand on his shoulder.

“Captain,” said Spock. “It would be both unwise and illogical to press this issue further. We have committed a grave offense within their culture, and ought to respect their response to our transgression.”

Kirk almost argued, but he saw the expression on Spock’s face and understood that he was serious. He sighed, and addressed the ferengi.

“Your ship. Does it still work.”

The man looked up, his eyes red and filled with tears. “I...think so?”

“Then get them out of those tubes. And then do what she asks.” Kirk opened his communicator. “Kirk to Enterprise. Two to beam up.”

The transporter energized, and as Kirk dematerialized he looked back at Celestia—and she looked longingly back, watching him go with absolute resolve in her decision. It would be the last time he saw her, and neither of them bothered to say goodbye.

Author's Note:

I had considered that perhaps this outcome was too far-fetched. That Celestia's reaction is excessive and extreme, and even out of character.

But then I thought about it. And I found my answer (to myself, at least) with a rhetorical question:

Have I ever seen someone die violently?

The answer is no. Nor do I want to.

TV deaths are one thing. Like those in Star Trek. Someone dies, there is a moment of pause for a few seconds, and the plot moves on. They are meant to produce drama. But in a realistic sense, if Kirk was exposed to so much death under his command, he would either be a complete mess or an indication that humans have evolved to be disturbingly callous. Because that's not how it works in Star Trek. It's not meant to be realistic in that sense.

But to actually witness it, in real life? From my limited understanding of psychology, I believe it would be extremely traumatizing. It would not be something you could ever really get out of your head. This would be a permanent mental injury, something it takes years of hard work to come to terms with. Especially if it was someone you trusted who pulled the trigger.

Amplify this by the fact that pony culture as depicted here (to the best of my ability) is profoundly pacifistic, to the point where an injury that even draws blood is considered unmitigated, unfathomable brutality. The incongruity of a world where lethal violence is an incomprehensible evil not even committed by the most depraved villains and a world where cold-blooded murder is commonplace if properly justified.

Perhaps I was not able to convey this intention as well as I perhaps could have. Perhaps the situation seems justified, or unavoidable; that is for the reader to decide. But if I was in Celestia's place, I think I would have done the same.

Comments

[RDDash]

It's strange that Kirk doesn't known about Ferengi because captain Archer knows about them, and Enterprise NX-01 existed in 2150s

[djthomp]

Not impressed by Celestia's reaction. As old as she is she probably has seen people die before, and as the ruler of a country with a military force for much of that span of time there's a reasonable chance of it being occasionally her fault or at the hand of a guard who is protecting her. And that doesn't even get into how ungrateful a reaction that was to having not just her life saved but the possibly the entire planet given what might have happened to her artificial sun if she dies.

[Raistlin]

11171578

Not to mention Daybreaker herself was in "you shall be purified in holy plasma" mod a few minutes before, and Kirk was among those who warned her not to cross that line.
Yes, Celestia is an insane hypocrite.

[Wydril]

“No.” Celestia’s face grew stern. “I hereby recast my vote. We reject your invitation to the Federation. And for your wanton disregard for the sanctity of life and peace, you—and all aliens that may exist in this galaxy—are hereby banned from ever setting foot on this planet again. By Royal Decree.”

Everything has just fallen apart now. This is the same Celestia who casually sliced Flimbot and Flambot in half moments ago, despite not knowing they were remote-piloted robots instead of living ponies, or even what robotics are according to the start of this chapter, and who would have already killed Flum and Flom if she did.

And yet, at this juncture, the only thing that kept the two ferengi alive was the fact that Celestia had not fully realized that they were Flim and Flam. Being a pony, she did not fully understand robotics, or remote controls. She knew that they were responsible, somehow, but was confused as to how, exactly.

Celestia tore Flam in half, spraying his robotic innards on the wall—but in her rage, she missed his brother, whose torso was torn open to reveal a number of rocket ports that immediately began firing. Several of the rockets twisted, targeting Celestia—but most flew instead toward the guards who accompanied her.

Celestia slashed Flim in half, revealing that he, too, was a robot. She dropped both of them, just as the smoke of her sister began to reassemble, resuming its pony form—only for Luna to collapse, grasping her shoulder.

At least Celestia will have Spitfire and the Trill to keep her company wherever she banishes herself to.

The only thing this really changes is that Starfleet can drop the social niceties and straight up invade and subjugate a suicidally-pacifist planet with the galaxy's largest supply of dilithium. Anyone could conquer and wipe them out with this current mindset, or even just land and flat-out ignore the complaining ponies while taking the dilithium.

[Coranth]

Yes, Celestia is an insane hypocrite.

This. This right here. I was going to say the same but Raistlin beat me to it. What a crock of sh-t.

[Winter Quill]

11171570
True, but Archer being Archer, they never did found out what the species was.

[DesiArcy]

I agree with the author that it unfortunately makes sense that Celestia is being a hypocrite about this.

Yes, she (as far as she knew) used lethal force against Film and Flam -- but see that even ethically and legally justified use of lethal force against criminal scum of the very worst sort by a literal sovereign ruler required her to cede partial control to her "Daybreaker" dark side, which is further described here as being a mental partition. Celestia is *so* pacificistic that she's literally given herself something that borders on multiple identity disorder just so her primary conscious self doesn't have to actually bear responsibility for the use of force even when it is not only ethical but also necessary.

Celestia literally cannot -- as in, she has assimilated the ideal of pacifism to the point where simply putting her in a situation that seriously challenges the belief that conflict can always be solved without violence forced her to "leak" Daybreaker, and actually refuting that concept would cause her to have an outright existential crisis.

Kirk knowingly sacrificed his friendship with her to give her a scapegoat that she could dump responsibility on, something she will most likely recognize once she's had time to process this rationally -- but emotionally, she *can't* forgive him without going right back to that crisis. Literally the only way Celestia could let it slide is convince herself that Kirk *didn't* actually kill the Ferengi, the exploding shield did (which is technically true, but not ethically correct since he *did* knowingly use a weapon set to lethal force).