[Forlorn Ascension]|[Rites of Dominion]

by Desrium

Rise Of Harmony

Millions of miles away across the astronomical plane, the Federation shuttle shot out of slip space leaving a splash of color behind it. Its pilot expected himself to be the lone responder to the many calls for help he had heard.

He was wrong.

The aftermath of his interstellar jump hit the warp waves of other ships, giant shadows dotted with lights against the system’s sun. Colossal constructs loomed above and below him, their engines sending columns of light out into space behind them. Speedy spacecraft weaved their way through the mobilizing fleet and banked in the vacuum. Phineas heard their transmissions as they organized themselves.

“Revaront here, en route to secure orbital space,” one of the many captains at the helm of their ships said.

“Elison reporting in, en route to deal with the situation planetside,” another replied.

“Acknowledged, Cathziz and company heading planetside as well.”

And so on went the transmissions, innumerable ships closing in on the planet under siege, the yellow clouds shining even on the nightside of the planet. Its surface seemed almost molten. Lights would have been visible on the nightside of the planet arranged in neat lines and bright dots, but all around the hive world appeared jagged and flaming. Huge stretches of cityscape were obscured by the smoke in the atmosphere, rising from huge swaths of destruction.

Beneath his helmet, Phineas bared his teeth and glared. This was exactly what he was trying to prevent the Hoof-Talons from doing! What in the hell could have bypassed the Harmony’s defenses to wreak such havoc?

“This is Phineas Startrot, no affiliation,” the silver stallion broadcasted into the fray of transmissions being passed back and forth through the network of ships. “could someone please inform me of what is going on?”

“Hrulean to Phineas Startrot, get out of here. This is no place for civilian spacecraft.”

From the corner of his view screen, Phineas saw the advance of a larger ship beside his own. Its front portion was pointed and its structure was arched downwards slightly. In the small nook its shape created, the vessel’s dual engines were held up on struts, burning bright. Its hull was a pale blue and giant alien lettering was sprawled across its side. Resisting the urge to scoff, he replied: “I think you can tell by the four guns underneath this thing’s wings that it isn’t meant to be a civilian ship.”

“But it’s not a Harmony ship, meaning it’s a civilian ship; and civilian ships are not supposed to be in a warzone. So do yourself a favor and go return that scrapheap to the fringe world you got it from, I don’t think the Equestrians appreciate having their antiques being stolen.”

”You cheeky bastard. They always have something to say about the shuttle…” Phineas thought, shaking his head. It was times like now that he wished his reputation was a bit more widespread, just for some semblance of respect if nothing else. He retorted, “I assure you, no one but I will be flying any sort of ship like this one. If I’m not mistaken, I believe I’m more commonly known as ‘Federation pony’ among your circle”

There was a pause afterwards. Phineas was about to remind the person he was talking to that there wasn’t much time for them to talk, that there was a fight to be fought and he would find out for himself if they continued being unreasonable. However, before he could voice his thoughts the Hrulean responded, “The Federation pony? The Dragonslayer?”

”Dragonslayer,” Phineas mused. ”A bit dramatic… but it works.”

“I’d prefer Federation pony, if you don’t mind,” Phineas said out loud. “Anyone with a strong enough gun and the know-how to fire it could’ve killed a Draconix. I identify a lot more with the Federation than… anything else really.” He hummed thoughtfully, but then reminded himself of the pressing issue.

“What is the Harmony fighting right now?”

“To be honest?” the one at the Hrulean’s comms asked. “We don’t rightfully know ourselves. This new enemy appeared not too long ago and the ones keeping an eye on things thought they were a Star Terror at first. First response found that they were just a fleet of these… I can’t even describe them… they laid waste to the hive world one system over. Afterwards they moved on to this system, and have managed to crush the Harmony forces posted in its defense.”

Phineas heard the person on the other end sigh and issue a whispered curse. He sympathized. He knew all too well the pain, sadness and anger that losing one’s comrades brought. At the same time, the stallion’s mind grasped at the mention of a Star Terror. After seeing the Iopteryx again after so long and hearing about this disaster, he could not help connecting two and two. If there was a relation, then what was it? He feared he would never find out, as is the nature of the Star Terrors and the ambiguity of their intent.

“Now our intel suggests they’re setting up some occupation and resource gathering operation planetside, but for what we don’t know. We decided now would be the best time to intercept them, though. With all of them gathered around one planet we can converge and contain them, like we did during the Hoof-Talon purge.”

Phineas shifted his attention back to what he was being told. “Converge and contain…” he murmured distantly. He shook his head a bit more forcefully than before and said “Good plan.”

“Federation pony… Phineas Startrot was it?”

“Yeah?” Phineas replied.

“You’re a welcome part of the Harmony in my book.”

“Thanks,” Phineas said.

It truly felt good to be a part of something greater, to not be alone in pursuit of his goal. It brought back old feelings, of belonging somewhere. It was a welcome change after being lost and adrift after making good on his pledge to those fallen, and having to finish the last of the Hoof-Talons. Flying with the Harmony fleet, Phineas almost regained the intrepid feeling of standing with his fellows, unified in the Federation.

”Things can be different now, he thought. ”I won’t make the same mistakes again… after this is done I’m going to join them, officially! No more ‘no affiliation’ for Phineas Startrot!

***

Like shooting stars, the Harmony forces pierced the atmosphere. Flames licked across the hulls of the incoming forces, some especially powerful magical shielding materializing at the front of their respective ships, holding the fire at bay. They streaked down from the sky closing in on all hemispheres, north, south; east and west.

Their foes were waiting for them. Nestled in the ruins of the mega-city were the necroliers. Whether or not their black hulls glimmered in the daylight like insectile carapace or glimmered in the soft glow of the fires of the night did not matter. They shot into the air without hesitation, black wings serpentining at their sides and the horns glowing with necrotic powers.

“Everyone brace yourselves!”

Almost immediately the exchange was made, orbs of various kinds of energy screaming and wailing through the air. Beams of concentrated magic lanced into the masses. Necrotic lightning flashed in the sky. Miasmas of magical fields surrounded the deathless ships. The booming roars of cannons were heard all around the planet.

Phineas was thrust into his focused state of mind, reacting to everything as is without analyzing their meaning. As such, his reaction to the black ships was not that of horror and disgust. It was a simple realization that they were what he had to help destroy –what he had to help unmake. The Federation shuttle shot across leveled expanses of gray with its vertical stabilizer raised. The larger ships plowed through the air above, their proud guns sending forth blasts of both potent magics and heavy artillery. The smaller ones skimmed across the piles of rubble that the giant towers used to be, their support beams and various other components rising out of the destruction, smoldering and misshapen.

What surprised Phineas about this force was not how powerful each Harmony ship seemed to be. His scanners showed that they were all exuding a greater energy output than he had experienced previously, but he assumed that was due to some advancement in technology during his extended sleep. What surprised him, though, were the unconventional units he saw flying with him. Larger than most fighters but not rivaling the bigger weapons platforms were things that reminded Phineas of the Hoof-Talon cyborgs… except these things were not cybernetic. They were machines, through and through, their armor plating gleaming in the light of gunfire.

Their builds varied as much as the many races in the galaxy, screeching above the landscape on jets and magic itself. Some were bulky, others were lithe. Others were mobile arsenals, giant guns affixed to their shoulders, backs and arms. Others seemed underequipped until they conjured up blades of energy, or bombarded the deathless horde with explosive orbs.

In the heat of combat, Phineas could not ponder how they came to be. He was busy swerving in between the horrid attacks the necroliers launched. From the corners of his eyes he would see ships go alight before meeting violent ends in the air, turning into showers of shrapnel and fire. Each soul that joined those of the past fallen made Phineas’ blood boil.

The aperture at the front of his shuttle opened. From it, a single missile shot out, taking the lead ahead of the shuttle, spinning through the air on a jet of blue-white exhaust. It entered the midst of a few necroliers before going off, the explosion bright in the dead of night and illuminating the streets below. The ships, though damaged, did not react to the blast at all. They continued flying with the Harmony ships, matching them step for step.

But the machines! Phineas was shown their ferocity when a few of them charged the deathless fearlessly without care towards the necrotic magics directed at them or the fields of energy that were crippling ships left and right. Their metal limbs were held out when they were tackling the undead’s vessels. The mechs tore them apart, claws punching into the metal and rending the morbid effigies.

Many more became the victims of the guns of the mechs. They moved in ways the spaceships did not. They twisted about in flight while aiming their large caliber guns or spun about, scoring strikes with blades of energy and cutting their enemies apart, just as the enemy forces were slaughtering the Harmony’s. There was undoubtedly an organic feel to their movements, as Phineas noted. It was as if the many beings of the galaxy had been made into giants capable of fighting face to face with these ships.

But even as he flew evasively amidst the horde and watched the others defeat huge droves of the necroliers, something kept Startrot uneasy. The way they moved, the furor in which they assaulted the deathless ships, they were not acting in the name of justice and peace. He knew they weren’t because those same movements of power and ravenous pursuit were what he associated with the Draconixes.

“What the hell is wrong with them?” the stallion thought, looking past the flight data projected on the shuttle’s screen as the units that so gleefully engaged the enemy. ”Is this some sort of game? Some kind of sport…?

“Heads up, all. I just got confirmation that we have survivors on the ground,” a familiar sounding voice said over Phineas’ communicator.

“No way…” the pony muttered, his previous concerns overshadowed by the notion he was concocting in his head.

Emerging from the group of the giant ships above, the black, brown and red unit began putting a distance between it and the clutter of hulls hanging in the air. Its tentacles twisted about as if they each had a mind of its own, flinging orbs of scarlet magic that caused the black ships to dissolve away in mid-air.

“I’m going to need a division to serve as transports and another division to serve as escorts. We’re getting them offworld as soon as possible!” Tsubar said commandingly.

Phineas chuckled smugly. “The boozer mechanic is fighting at the frontlines, leading a whole battalion of spaceships… in a robot at that. How so much changes in such little time is beyond me…”