[Forlorn Ascension]|[Rites of Dominion]

by Desrium

Ill Advised Course Of Action

"I used to know another dragon," Phineas said to the dark scaled stranger.

The dragon looked up from their tray. Phineas had his gaze pointed down, prodding at his own with the magi-tech device.

"Did you really?" the dragon replied with a perplexed expression on his face.

"I wonder if they are still around. Dragons tend to be very long lived, so..." Phineas continued to say absentmindedly.

The blue dragon started to chuckle, finding the stallion's word novel. "Are you insinuating that you have outlived a dragon, pony?"

"I've outlived a lot of things," Phineas said flatly. "How old are you?"

"146 years old!" the dragon replied proudly, turning their saurian mug upwards regally.

"I'm technically twenty. Been around for 378 years," Phineas stated, making the dragon give him a wide-eyed stare.

"How?"

"Stasis."

Phineas then started to laugh softly. He started to shake his head with the realization.

"Are you... alright?" the dragon asked concernedly.

"Probably not, since I find it funny you are the first Equestrian I've met that hasn't been a complete shit to me," Phineas answered.

"I am not Equestrian. I hatched on the Pullox fringe world in the Rerora star system..." the dragon said, hopelessly confused by the silver stallion's rambling.

This only seemed to amuse Phineas further.

"Back in my day, there were two types of dragon. There were the dragons that lived their lives training themselves to keep their instincts in check and the dragons which generally didn't give a shit about anything other than their hoard," Phineas started to explain to the blue scaled stranger. "The former were generally pretty small, even by as far as pony standards go. The latter... well... Draconixes come to mind."

The dragon's lips curled and their gaze hardened into a glare. Phineas continued unfazed.

"You aren't either of them. Your size shows you don't give a damn about inhibiting your nature but you don't have the attitude of a giant."

"What are you getting at?" the dragon snarled angrily, not appreciating the generalization of somepony's outdated views.

"I don't know," Phineas replied, much to the drake's annoyance. "I guess what I'm trying to say is: I find it really funny that a dragon of all things would actually spare the time to talk to me instead of just giving me another hard face."

The dragon's expression softened slightly. Not a lot, there was still an intensity in his piercing eyes, but he was no longer flashing his teeth at the stallion.

"You don't make it easy to hold a conversation," the dragon growled.

"I guess I'm out of practice. Recently, all I've been doing is fighting and going into stasis. Friendly faces are few and far between and the Hoof-Talons aren't the most chatty bunch you can meet..." said Phineas.

"They consider all the other races in the galaxy to be lesser than they are, so naturally they would ignore any attempts at communication."

"Hey, you think you can answer a question?" Phineas inquired.

"Depends on the question," the dragon replied simply.

"Why are the Hoof-Talons so arrogant? They aren't unbeatable. I've been picking off stragglers and helping out a few ships I've found fighting them with a shuttle!"

"It isn't that they are unbeatable. It's that their numbers are so... great. There have been numerous victories made against them, this station is testament to that... but the fact they replenish their losses dampens any progress in our fight against them," the dragon replied.

Phineas rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He considered everything he had learned thus far about galactic enemy number one. He had worked with their technology and converted it for his own use. He knew what Tsubar and Romaz told him. It wasn't enough, the Hoof-Talons were as enigmatic as a Star Terror. There was no hope of beating an enemy that was unknown.

Then it hit him.

"Of course!"

***

The five Shu'badi were besieged by a gigantic Hoof-Talon Marauder, a class of ship feared throughout the galaxy. It was the only instance within the Hoof-Talon fleet where a vessel was built around appearance rather than functionality. At its front end was an ornate gryphon's beak and two broad wings stretched out from either side of the machine, the trailing edges notched and rounded to give them a feathered impression.

The ship was, for all intents and purposes, a space faring bird of prey; a symbol of Hoof-Talon domination of the cosmos. Their encounter was a stroke of misfortune, the ship slipping from the shadows of space and sweeping them into its clutches. In no time at all they were captured and taken aboard, where they were to become victims of whatever dastardly study the hybrid race had planned for them and the rest of the abductees.

It was Tsubar who fought his way through the craft, disregarding the toll it was taking on his body. He fought through the fire and returned it in kind, crippling key systems as he went from the inside out. He freed the captives and exterminated a whole supply of the artificial beings.

In the end, he relied on his knowledge of machines and engineering to save his life.

That was the story Phineas was told. It was an incredible tale of one's determination, undying loyalty and sacrifice. It was also a key in ridding the galaxy of the Hoof-Talon menace, for from it the stallion constructed his theory.

Why else would a spacecraft be carrying the future progeny of a race which did not reproduce naturally, instead needing to manufacture the future generations of their cancerous kind? Why didn't they conduct such tasks on a planet or moon under constant watch of the legionaries? It did not make any sense that the Hoof-Talons controlled so much of the galaxy but depended on their most infamous ships to safeguard their future!

"The Hoof-Talons operate solely in space," Phineas deduced. "They might have come a long way since they were simple pirates, but in spite of that they are still the same band of roving maniacs causing grief for everyone else."

"To get rid of the Hoof-Talons, you need to stop them from replenishing their resources. You need to destroy the Marauders. Every single one."

***

It was a sound theory. How would he go about testing it?

By taking one of the most ill advised courses of actions that he could ever possibly make in his life. He had another modification done to his shuttle: the addition of his own arcane missiles. When the silo installation and his store of missiles were on board, he left the rebel base on his lonesome, backtracking across several star systems to where the game of cat and mouse began. He made no attempt to hide himself this time, warping into the system and purposely bleeding off energy from the shuttle. He was practically broadcasting: "I am here. Come and get me!"

And they did just that. The legion of ships appeared in droves, their energy signatures becoming indiscernible from one another as they went to meet the intruder, their formations forming a cage. They were coming in from all angles...and Phineas simply stayed put, allowing them to spring their "trap".

Was it really trapping if the target wanted to be caught?

They circled him like sharks before a frenzy. Hoof-Talon fighters buzzed by at distances too close for comfort. Larger ships loomed further out, cruisers and destroyers that varied drastically amongst themselves. Some were simple machines. Some, like the Draconixes, were actual creatures assimilated through the use of cybernetics. Alien beasts which defied sight and reason, bound by metal restraints and control structures. Pylons crackling with energies ran along their backs like a mockery of a spinal column.

Phineas wanted to shrink into his seat. At any moment they could end him, all they had to do was aim their guns and fire at the stationary target. Even if he were to overcharge his engines and make a break for it, by ways of odds he would be killed. There was no way in hell that he was going to dodge all of those weapons. He had the chance to warp out of danger, but then he would be back at square one, only with the Hoof-Talons hot on his trail; and as Tsubar once said: "You don't just fight the Hoof-Talons. You strike out against them once or twice then you run and hide before they can close in."

So there he was, waiting for something to happen while the lion prowled around him in its den, licking its fangs hungrily. They hadn't opened fire yet, which Phineas found odd. In fact, he found so many ships circling him an oddity. After all, it was only a shuttle they were dealing with...granted one that was far from the average run-of-the-mill exploration craft. Furthermore, the ship was Federation issue...an extremely old one at that.

"Oh good. They remember me. I feel so fucking fuzzy inside..." Phineas snarked.

Now it was a question of what they were going to do with him. That became apparent when the tangle of Hoof-Talon ships dispersed, clearing out little by little like scavengers scared off from a carcass as an even larger shape made its way closer.

***

The Marauder's stature was like an Iopteryx, massive and commanding of respect and fear. The sculpted beak was golden upon a black and gray ship, gleaming in the light of thrusters and the blue sun eclipsed by its hulking mass. The hull was irregular, abundant with angular structures and cylinders with small lights blinking in no clear pattern.

The beak opened with vapor billowing out from the creases in the corners and seams. Staring down the metal gullet, Phineas saw something that made the docking bays of the Gallopso fringe world and the rebel base seem like utter foal's play.

Phineas saw a bay full of the Marauder's horrific arsenal. Laser cannons the size of entire ships. Missile racks with warheads that could crack a planet's crust and spill its molten core. The stallion's blood ran cold, a shiver ran down his spine and his pupils expanded underneath the yellow screens over his eyes. The realization of what he was truly up against was a dreadful one indeed.

"Tsubar... how in the fuck did you do this...?" Startrot found himself asking. Shaking the trepidation and fear, he snarled "I'm going to make you choke!"

The shuttle's engines flashed to life and the craft went careening into the mouth of the ship, weapons hot. Phineas banked, rolled and arched around, all of his experience culminating in this one last battle inside of the Marauder. Phaser fire countered the plethora of light turrets which had deployed from the ship's walls, filling the bay with magical energy blasts. Wing mounted lasers cut across the massive laser cannons. An aperture in between the two phaser cannons opened, missiles roaring out into the fray, the inside of the Marauder's beak alight with mystical flame and gas.

A disruptor beam shot out from an especially large cannon further into the Marauder's "throat", the sallow stream of corrosive energy ripping through the formation of smaller ships several kilometers away. To make matters worse, a squadron of fighters inserted themselves into the fight, engaging with sustained rays and explosive orbs.

It was mayhem. Between the hundreds of automated guns remaining inside the gullet of the Marauder and the fighters, Phineas was locked in a constant dance of evasive maneuvers and keeping his shields from falling.

"You can do this, Startrot. You've done so much already. You can do anything!"

***

Flashing alerts and projections surrounded him, but Phineas kept looking straight out of his screen, observing what he could as his shuttle rocketed to and fro, rolling and banking, pitching down then swerving around in a dizzying display that would have left even a pegasus crosseyed trying to follow.

He spotted a bulkhead door on the far side of the gullet, underneath the disruptor cannon which crackled with malignant power as it charged up for another blast. Thinking fast, Phineas sent a missile its way.

The explosion of scarlet arcane energies was mixed with the chaotic discharge of the disruptor cannon. Shards of metal charged with the yellow-green energy peppered the shuttle's shields and that small exposure to it began to wreak havoc on the magical barrier.

But the blast door had been forced open in the explosion! Seizing his chance, Phineas rushed through, the squadron of fighters giving chase without fail. Phineas' guns unleashed hell as he rushed through the innards of the ship, tearing through the hallways and passing from level to level by making his own shuttle-sized tunnels. Alarms were blaring all the while, sparks and electricity going wild in his passing.

It was like a scene aboard the Iopteryx in its final moments.

It was like a scene aboard any Hoof-Talon ship before Phineas delivered the killing blow.

Bulkheads groaned into position, only to be decimated by a colliding missile. Through the mangled doorway the shuttle roared through, the fighters remaining on his rear all the way through.

"Oh would you just fuck off!?" Phineas growled as their shots pestered his shielding, fragments of metal fizzling away after they fell into it.

***

The exterior hull burst outwards, chunks of plating expunged into space, glowing white hot. The black and while shuttle took its improvised exit, tearing out on vectors of purple. All around the Marauder, there was pandemonium. Just as Phineas was hoping would occur.

Just as Tsubar freed his friends by causing a whole mess of chaos, Phineas freed those aboard the Hoof-Talon ship by causing a storm of disarray that they never expected to come from a single space shuttle. When the captured got back to their ships and fought their way out of the enormous ship, the only thing left to do was give them a taste of their own medicine. Flaming wreckage of Hoof-Talon vessels formed a graveyard, an entire fleet of rebel and civilian craft acting as one to annihilate the legionaries.

"Unity at last...!" Phineas thought, panting. He had done the most improbable. He, by himself, stood against the odds and-

The shuttle rocked with two tremendous impacts, the shield finally faltering. Wrapping around the shuttle without anything to protect it, the disruptor shot resulted in the cockpit being flooded with red light.

SPELL-CORE CRITICAL

"I can tell just fine by the alarms and lights, thank you very much!" Phineas grumbled, using his rapidly depleting energy reserves to pull out of the sapping cloud of electricity.

He came around the Marauder at a speed much slower than he was accustomed. Trailing his movement was the single fighter that followed him out of the gigantic warship. Its disruptor cannon glowed bright with the shot to end all others.

The blast that was finally going to end the story of Phineas Startrot. His heart lurched as he faced his own demise in all of its frightening glory.

Or rather, he would have stared down his death if it didn't explode into glimmering shrapnel as nearby ships picked it off like any other hostile craft.

Panting and somewhat in disbelief. Phineas said flatly: "Well then... looks like Luna really did smile on me after all."

Putting the close call behind him, he directed the the front of the shuttle at the Marauder's still-open beak and let loose one last arcane missile. The projectile flew in an arc into the ship's weapon bay, colliding with one of the warheads.

The ensuing release of power was like watching a star die, a supernova encapsulated in a shell then given the freedom to expand and destroy.

The Marauder, one of the Hoof-Talons' most feared ships, had died in the in the cleansing heat of stellar fire.

***

When all was said and done, Phineas had a ship critically damaged in the debris field of a monumentous battle. In time, there would be many more like it, for the purpose of reclaiming the galaxy. Defeating the Hoof-Talons would not be the end of the troubles, however. Far from it.

But the freedom to travel in between stars without being subjected to the fear and oppression that defined the Hoof-Talon legion was a good start to a new age. That made the struggle thus far worth it.

As for Phineas, he undid his straps and made his way to the shuttle's Spell-core reactor. On his flanks were his toolboxes, where he had a crowbar, a Magi-Flux Harmonizer and a whole load of scrap to use patching his ship up. Some things never changed.

And a good engineer always had their tools on them.

"Am I good?"

Blue sparks leaped from the inactive pylon he was working on, the prongs of the Harmonizer coated in a humming electrical field.

"Sometimes horrible things have to be done for the greater good."

The pylons started to spin, manifesting the pink sphere of energy, bolts of power jutting out to meet the tips of metal speeding around the orb.

"But that does not make me a monster. If a dragon can live a proper life without being made to change their nature, then I could live a proper life being myself... and living with my deeds. I've done some good and I've done some evil. But most importantly, I've done all I possibly could. Quite honestly, all I possibly could is pretty damn impressive."

Comments

[GBscientist]

What?! That's it?! Noooooooo!

Honestly, I hope you have a sequel in the works for this, because it was just starting to heat up, if you look at it from the perspective of computer game storylines.