Chapter Forty One, Vale, Stimbolt
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
VALE, STIMBOLT
Stimbolts’ memorial service was held the next day in the Hangar Bay on deck Eight forward, the midmost deck of the Hermes’s Saucer Section. It’s the second most spacious single structure on the ship after Engineering, narrowly beating out the Rec Deck by a couple hundred cubic feet. It takes the form, roughly, of a forty-degree wide wedge of the Primary Hull extending from decks Seven to Nine at its widest extant aft. The Landing Pad lies at the end of a short tunnel that terminates with the curved twin doors of the Hanger itself. Flight Operations occupies a gallery above it with wide transparent- aluminum windows that afford a panoramic view of the entire working area. Elevators connect it directly with the Main Cargo Bay and it is the only deck on the ship that is rated as a variable-gravity area in the course of operations and is subject to routine depressurization, to boot.
Two of the new boxy shuttlecraft, eight-passenger descendants of the sturdy shuttlepods of a generation ago, squatted off to one side in the Service Area in the company of half-a-dozen assorted workpods and EVA vehicles that are necessary at some point in every voyage. That day the Landing Pad was occupied by a tube-metal framework that functioned as a bier for Stimbolts’ coffin, the casing of a photonic torpedo, and contained a magnetic launcher that would cast his body into the Void between the Stars.
Earlier his body lay in state while the deck was still pressurized so that we all could pay our last respects. Stimbolt was always short but, tucked into the torpedo shell, he struck me as being almost foal-like. It made the tragedy of his passing even more poignant.
I was the last to visit him. By the time I got there members of the crew had left tiny keepsakes and remembrances with him. There were a couple of credit chips, Stimbolt was a deft hoof at poker it seems and his crewmates made it a point to settle their debts. He’d made his mark among the Mares, too. Midshippony Olive Branch and Ensign Quanta both left folded notes like Hearts and Hooves Day cards scented with perfume tucked into his crossed arms near his heart. Xantippe made him a tiny bag of scarlet material, the same shade as his uniform, into which she’d placed various tiny items. She didn’t elaborate and I didn’t press for details but I got the impression that it contained items pertaining to his onboard life as well as a few things reckoned sacred among Zebras. Tyllae left a single, perfect Geeva blossom tucked behind one ear as well as a choice chocolate-chip cookie from her dwindling cache of goodies. (Where she keeps them and how she keeps them fresh is a mystery to me!)
Caper laid his awards on his breast. The Starfleet medals for Conspicuous Gallantry and Performance Above And Beyond The Call Of Duty gleamed against his tunic and the abbreviated gold of a Starfleet Ensign shone on his wrists. The old Pegasus was looking a lot older these days but his features were iron-firm as he paused by the casket, the brightness in his eyes alone betrayed him as he patted Stimbolts cheek softly before turning away.
Dazzle was ahead of me. She stood rigidly as she stared into the casket, her eyes haunted and looking a lot like they did in that Last Awful Moment on the Gorn ship. I’m told by Doctor White-Light, the Third Watch attending Physician, that Tyllae had slipped out of our cabin in the wee hours and had showed up in Sickbay. She’d settled down next to the Chiefs’ head and, according to the good Doctor, sang to her in words he could not understand. She did it for the course of an hour or so, rebuffing the Doctor’s suggestion to let Dazzle rest with an elfin rank-pulling as ‘Number-One Medical Assistant, just ask Sunny! Yep, yep, yep!’ On the theory that the patient was tranked to the gills anyway, he desisted.
Dazzle woke hours ahead of schedule, grimly angry but apparently no worse for the wear. She checked herself out of Sickbay, telling White Light to ‘Zark off!’ when he attempted to get her to stay. He did manage to keep her long enough to verify there was no Medical reason for her to stay. She drew a new uniform and departed with Tyllae to the Galley for an early breakfast. Doctor Fisher had been alerted and ghosted behind her until she gave him the same advice she gave White Light. Tyllae insisted she was going to be ok an interceded on Dazzles’ behalf with Little Rock. Coming back from the dead did a lot for the little Fey’s credibility… the story had already begun to circulate… and Rocky let it be… but he made sure to apprise us both of it that morning.
I watched her closely while trying not to too obvious about it. Magic is all well and good when it comes to healing a broken bone or patching a cut, but a Pony’s mind is a whole lot more complicated and delicate a proposition. I wasn’t the only one who felt the same way. I noticed Doctor Fisher and a couple of Medical Orderlies loitering in the Hangar as part of the crowd. At least one of them, I was sure, was packing a loaded hypo just in case.
She lingered in front of Stimbolt, waiting for the nearby Ponies to disperse a little. I gave her room but my Augment hearing enabled me to catch what she said. She reached out and touched the gold on his sleeve.
“Looks good on you, kid.” She whispered then fidgeted, at a loss to say anything else for a little. No tears brightened her eyes, they only shone with loss and regret. Then, “You did good, kid …I wish I could have done better by you, but there you are. …Aw, Hell!” She leaned in and kissed the room-temperature cheek. “You hold your head high and tell ‘em how it happened. You make sure you tell ‘em how you gave the high-and-mighty Discord the hothoof of his life. He’s gonna regret crossing us yet, you wait and see.” She stroked the cheek she’d kissed. Her hoof faltered just a little. “I’m so sorry, kid. I wish I…” She paused and shut her eyes. I could just imagine what she saw every time she shut them. She dropped her hoof suddenly. “I wish you could have talked more with The Bug. She’s got… a different perspective on things. Maybe you do too, now. It’s just too bad that it takes something like this to make us see what’s really important. If we all did…” She smiled a crooked smile. “But that’s the real trick, isn’t it? To know then what you know now? I don’t like that half-dragon bastard, but I can’t bring myself to hate him… any more. The Bug told me all about him last night. She says he’s completely around the bend, but I guess you know that by now. In the end she couldn’t do anything to stop him. You’re the only one that found a way and he used me to kill you for it!” The last few words were said in such a coldly angry tone that I pricked up my ears, afraid she was going to lose it right then and there. Before I’d realized it I’d shifted my weight, ready to spring forth and restrain her… but whatever Tyllae sang to her in her sleep kicked in. Dazzles’ eyes contemplated the still form in the torpedo casing and she sighed. “Working in Security you get more than a little cynical about the way things work out. You know, jaded! The Bug… Tyllae… says it’s going to be all right in the end. She’s not sure how, herself, but she says we’ve got to have faith. My faith is pretty much used up so I’m going to borrow yours, kid. And with that faith I’m going to help take him down. A few hours ago I just wanted vengeance, now I’d rather see justice. Wave good-bye to him when we send him to Hell and remind him…” She reached up again to chuck the posthumous Ensign under his chin. “Well, what else could he expect? See you later, kid. Take care, ok?”
She stepped away and I hastened to drop my eyes to my boot tips, something I haven’t been able to do easily until recently! Dazzle walked right up to me and I looked up reflexively.
“Starry.” She nodded. “Sorry I took so long. I had some things I wanted to… you know.”
“It’s all right.” I said, trying not to eye her too critically. “I’m not sure what I’m going to tell him, myself.”
“Yeah, I know.” She agreed as she caught my eye. “You ok, Starry?”
“Given the circumstances, yes. Well, as ok as possible.” I conceded. “How about you?”’
“I’m better than I would have thought… thanks to the Bug. You heard what she did when I was in Sickbay?” Dazzle asked rhetorically. She’d been around and knew how fast things get around in the closed community of a starship.
I genuinely like Dazzle so I chose not to insult her by lying. “I heard she came by and had a subliminal talk with you as you slept. She’s got a highly developed empathic sense though she refrains from using it… except in emergencies.”
“Yeah she does!” She agreed. “Turns out it works both ways. She never put it in so many words but I got an idea of what happened on her end. Compared to her and you, my problems are pretty small apples by comparison. I ain’t saying I’ve got nothing to kick about, but I’m not going to get anything useful done crying about it aren’t I? She gave me that much. She let me stand back from it all enough to keep going.” She gave me a level look. “I can’t ever forget that look on his face when I pulled the trigger… but I know, I know he knows it wasn’t my fault because she meant it when she told me. She thought it was important to let me know… even with all that had happened to her.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I trust her. So help me, I trust her!”
I smiled. “She’ll be glad to hear that! She always felt guilty about what she did to your suit back on the Cimarron.”
Dazzle waved the comment away. “Yeah, she mentioned that last night. I told her it was ok. No blood, no foul and don’t worry about it! She’s got a good heart.”
“She does at that.” I had to agree.
Dazzle nodded. “Look, I won’t keep you any longer. We’ve all got stuff to do soon.” She nodded grimly to the torpedo casing. “I just wanted to ask you…” She trailed off and caught my eyes again. “Do you really think that we were meant to find her? Are we all just being forced to play a part in something bigger that we don’t have any control over?” Her eyes bored into mine. She was serious!
I chose my next words carefully. “… Sunny has a book, an actual paper book, where the Hero is asked the same question. He says something like, ‘If I am just a character then right now I feel like strangling the author!’ I can empathize with him! We don’t go in for predestination on Equestris. I’d hate to think that the dark chapters of Equestrian history were somehow necessary as part of some Grand Design. Did we really need the Eugenics Wars and the Romulans? We’re all individuals and we make our own choices to either live with or not. That’s what it all comes down to, choices. We have the opportunity to see this through but there’s no guarantee we’ll like were it goes. In the final analysis I’d have to say that there aren’t good choices or bad choices, just choices. Those who come after us will have to decide on the merit of our decisions. All we can do is to do what we feel is right. If we have the chance to confirm the existence of the Goddesses I think it’s a good thing that we try. We very well may fail but somepony else may sooner or pick up on some other clues and carry on. I don’t know if we were meant to do anything… except try. And that’s all anypony could ask us to do in the end, isn’t it? All our tragedy didn’t happen for nothing. Does that help?”
Dazzle smiled with the corners of her mouth and clapped me on the shoulder. “Damned if I know! I didn’t really expect an answer. Me, I wear a red shirt and toss Ponies into the Brig. What do I know?” She shrugged again, then winked. “Nice to know you’ve been thinking on it, though! Yeah. We gotta try, don’t we? Why else are we here then? Times like this make Ponies ask questions, don’t they?” She dusted her hooves off and made ready to leave.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going. Think I’ll pick up something heavy and stroll along with a maniacal glint in my eye just to keep my ‘escorts’ on their toes. How’s this?” She pulled a face that was more comical than deranged and strode off to mingle with the crowd.
Though the orderlies looked alarmed, Fisher shot me a questioning look. I shook my head smiled a tired smile. He smiled sheepishly as Dazzle walked by, gathered up his troops, and made a dignified exit.
It was nearly the end of viewing time. As the crowd began to disperse I made my way quickly to where Stimbolt lay, watched over by Rocky and two of his Security Ponies as an Honor Guard.
We neither bury nor cremate our dead on Equestris. The needs of the Colony are too great. That was especially true back in the early days. Equestris abounds in mineral wealth but suffers from a natural dearth of organics and their complex compounds. As distasteful as it sounds to our Terrestrial cousins, we recycle our dead. Corpses go into the tanks to be reclaimed, a far more efficient and sanitary process than sticking dead things in the ground or roasting them to ashes to put in jars on a shelf. In either event, there isn’t enough of an ecosystem beyond the warrens to break the bodies down. In our closed ecology a bit of every Colonist from the Founders onward lives on in every Equestrin in every drop of water and every green ration crumb. It’s just the way we had to do things.
Thus it was that, try as I might, I couldn’t equate the cold, motionless thing before me with the memory of the eager, vibrant young Midshippony I’d met scant months before. The Wake is a tradition we keep alive and well on Equestris. Friends and Family gather ‘round a holo of the deceased and drink and reminisce. Tears are shed, deeds are celebrated and all the while within the bowels of the Colony the patient machinery, originally patented by the Soylent Corporation back in The Bad Old Days, busily adds the guest of honor to a leavening of the biomass gleaned from the rocks of Equestris to be returned to and for the expanding Colony. Not, from my standpoint anyway, any more gruesome than the wasteful concept of a hunk of preservative-infused organics in an overly-elaborate underground box that would never get incorporated back into the ecosystem short of a mountain-building geologic event or the prospect of catching a whiff of somepony you knew on the breeze. (I know what you’re thinking, but it’s still tastier than replicator food!)
Before I’d joined Starfleet the idea of paying last respects to an inanimate corpse would have seemed frankly silly to me. The dead are dead, it’s too bad but life goes on and we all have jobs to do for the sake of the living. That was Equestris and, no doubt, why Earth Ponies think of us as rather cold and unsympathetic. Since then I’ve attended twenty-seven funerals and dozens of memorial services…not all disasters during the War left bodies…and I’ve had ample opportunity to sample how other Ponies did things. Grief is grief no matter who feels it and, it would seem, everypony deals with it in the context of their own culture. There was nothing I could think of saying to Stimbolt at this late date. As far as I was concerned, anything I could say would be solely for my own benefit to make myself feel better. I don’t like to think I’m that selfish in the face of tragedy. I’m sorry I never knew Stimbolt better. He was a nice enough little buck and a crackerjack Engineer to boot. I had no doubt that, even if he didn’t save all of us, he gave the rest of us the chance to do the best we could. He stepped up and got the job done and I’ll honor him forever for that. Discord had a lot to answer for and if I ever got the chance to come to grips with him again I wouldn’t suffer any qualms about putting him down any more than he did about killing this selfless, eager young Engineer. …But, even then, I didn’t believe for an Andorian minute that his disembodied spirit was hovering around the room to hear our comments on his behalf. The unvarnished truth, as far as I was concerned, was that the vital spark of what consisted of him had been snuffed out on Cestus-III. He was my responsibility and I failed him… that we were pitted against the Master of Chaos or not didn’t figure into it. I did my level best to save him but it wasn’t enough. I wish it could be otherwise but, like we say back on Equestris, ‘Wish in one hoof and grab a hoof-full of recycler gloop in the other. Ball your fists and see which one is real.’ That’s the difference, I guess, between Equestria and Equestris. The best thing I could do for Stimbolt would be to work my best to make sure we came out on top in the end. And if I ever got to meet the Goddesses, well …I’d make sure they heard all about Stimbolt and the price he paid.
In the meantime his culture demanded that certain things had to be done and I had one more duty to perform. I stood there in front of his body in silence and considered the thing lying there. The corpse looked so serene and at peace, so unlike those last terrible seconds when he looked at me for help I just couldn’t give. What could I do for him now that I couldn’t do then except follow the rituals his culture expected?
A hoof touched my arm, almost making me start. Sunny stood next to me and twined her hoof around mine, her lovely lavender eyes looked up at me with tender understanding.
“’Tis enough that ye’re here, ye ken.” She said softly. “Th’ laddie’d no ask anything more from ye than what ye can give. Sure n’ he’d understand it were he here.” She tousled the buck’s mane tenderly. “This is from th’ two o’ us, Stimbolt-me-lad. Sleep well, now.” Sunny leaned in and kissed our newest Ensign before gathering me up in as much of a hug as she could manage.
With one arm I reached out and closed the lid of the torpedo casing, the seals clicked shut quietly and the Security Guard of Honor draped the Federation flag over it before withdrawing to a respectful distance again. I saw that the Hangar Crew had brought them their environment suits on antigrav carts. Looking up I could see Caper and Dazzle suiting up. A Tech came up with our suits on a cart and waited patiently.
One last duty to perform…
* * *
We suited up and checked each others seals as the Hanger Deck rigged for depressurization. We waited patiently while our suits stiffened up ever so slightly as, bit by bit, the air was pumped out of the Hangar. Eventually the voice of the Flight Controller came over our comms.
“Pressure zero. Gravity zero. Opening Hangar doors.”
The curved surface of the twin doors of the Shuttle Bay pulled apart slowly and the panorama of the stars streaming over our Warp Field a scant hundred feet beyond the hull peered in to witness the proceedings.
Caper cleared his throat and we all came to attention.
“Question heard most at times like this is ‘Why?’.” He said, his voice and a view of the proceedings being piped to all the terminals of the Hermes. There was something almost indefinably odd in Caper’s voice. A certain thickness was apparent that made me wonder if he’d been drinking before the ceremony. No… that couldn’t be it, he’d been fine moments before. I turned my body to look at him. He ignored me and forged on.
“Exploration is dangerous business even when just Space is being explored. This mission, though, we find ourselves exploring more than Space. Nature of our present mission is now journey toward heart and soul of Ponykind. Some would say we are re-covering old ground, Posterity will have to make judgment of that but no historian would deny that we stand on edge of making discoveries… or perhaps re-discoveries… that will have profound implications for ourselves and all members of Federation as well as Galaxy at large. Comrade Stimbolt was fully aware of that in same way that he was aware that momentous discoveries sometimes come at costly price. Each and every one of us in Starfleet are prepared to pay that price for sake of those we leave behind at home.”
Caper paused for a long moment while I frowned inside my helmet. His accent had always been a bit thick and it got thicker under stress. This didn’t strike me as his usual tone… it seemed almost like slurring, especially on soft consanants.
“Discord, concept as well as Being, has long been greatest obstacle our kind has faced in our long history. We as a species have prevailed against both before. The gallant and worthy deeds of Ensign Stimbolt show that we are still capable of rising to occasion in best tradition of our race. I am as proud of him as I am of all of you on this ship.” He paused once again and drew a deep breath before continuing. I thought I detected a catch in that breath. Well… it was an emotional moment and Caper had always been notoriously protective of the Ponies under his command. I certainly wasn’t going to blame him for feeling a sense of loss! I made a determined effort to stop nitpicking.
“Today we gather to pay final honors to this young Stallion and to give his body back to the Cosmos from which we all came. His Spirit precedes us in our voyage… perhaps even now he has achieved the goal we have yet to attain and rests for while under Divine Wings to wake into world we have allowed ourselves to forget in our Troubles.” The old Pegasus drew himself up and squared his shoulders. “I, for one, would like to think so. Farewell, Comrade Stimbolt. You were first of us to die on this voyage… Celestia and Luna grant you are last.” He came to attention and slowly, solemnly saluted. We all followed suit as the ancient melody of ‘Taps’ played over the ships audio systems. As the music ended the torpedo on its launcher began its slow slide forward. As Caper reached out and made the first fold in the Federation Flag another tune began. The old Equestrian Anthem, a nearly forgotten song that was experiencing a revival on the Hermes as well as Equestris, swelled from our speakers.
As it passed along the pallbearers each one completed another fold. I was at the end of the line. I made the final fold, compacting the flag into a triangular wedge with the laurel-wreathed circular field of the Home Systems of the Federation displayed before picking it up and holding it to me. I led the Landing Party and I would make sure Stimbolt’s family received it when… and if… I returned to Earth.
The torpedo left the launcher and drifted away as the music played. I was told, later, that many voices took up the tune just like in the Aluminum Horseshoe back Home. I was glad and was sure Stimbolt would have appreciated it.
We’d calculated the speed of the launcher to give enough time for the song to play before the torpedo crossed the Warp boundary. Unlike the Hermes, which performed billions of calculations per second to maintain speed and heading, Stimbolt was on a purely ballistic trajectory moving independently of us. From our viewpoint he pursued a slow, right handed corkscrew course as he left the hangar. Unseen by us, the starboard phased-balefire bank pulsed twenty-one times at one percent power firing over his body in tribute.
As he approached the boundary between subspace and normal space the Anthem played out.
“Unite our Herd as one… group… strong!”
With no inertial dampening or Warp Field of his own Stimbolt re-entered normal space trying to decelerate from one hundred twenty-five ‘c’ to just under lightspeed in accordance to the physical laws codified by Hindstein centuries before. All that psuedomomentum would be converted almost instantaneously to heat and light in normal space. Stimbolts final memorial would be a brief, bright flash of radiation, a megaton-range firework display that, years hence, would just be detectable from Earth by those who knew where to look. We wouldn’t see it, of course, since we were moving one hundred twenty-five times faster than the event. All that was visible from our side was the smearing effect as his torpedo crossed the Warp Field, a peculiar elongation haloed by a red-shift the instant before he disappeared from view.
Stimbolt was well and truly gone, his body as well as his essence now moved on to higher states of being. The Hangar doors slid slowly shut. Rocky and the Honor Guard made their way toward the bulkhead, waiting for the pressurization cycle to doff their suits and get back to their duties. Sunny stayed where she stood, gazing at the Hangar doors, bidding a final farewell maybe.
Caper stood near her and there was something naggingly wrong with the way he half-crouched, his forearms partially drawn in and constantly in motion half-fumbling toward the instrument clusters on his chest and wrists again and again. A Red Alert went off in my head the same instant I heard him make a strange, gurgled strangling sound. He clutched urgently at one of Sunny’s gauntlets as he turned toward her. One hoof came off the deck and hung there limply, his body anchored to the deck by the magnetic sole of one boot for just a moment until he convulsed. He went halfway into a fetal position… I could see his wings pushing against the material of his environment suit as he strove to unfurl them in his panic.
Sunny beat me to the comm circuit by a nanosecond! “Belay, avast, eighty-six th’ bloody gravity n’ get some air in here!” She fumbled with one hoof to access the readouts on Caper’s suit, her other locked onto the Captains in… what I hoped… wasn’t a death-grip! “Medical Emergency in th’ Hanger!” She called out on all frequencies. “Full Emergency Team! Th’ Captain’s a-havin’ a stroke!”
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Oh, horse apples. Looks as though Starry's getting a fast promotion, like it or not. One more on your tab, Discord.
I've read the Amber series, and yep, it's a good-un.
Soylent Green: You just had to go there, didn't you?
3223250 Nothing is sacred in the Prism Universe! Bwahahahaaaa!
*Chugs more Pepsi-Max!*
3223264 (voice=Eric Idle) "One more like that and I'll throw you under a camel!" (/voice)
Very painful chapter this one, well done. Although I too can't believe you did the Soylent Green thing (I still have no idea what Soylent Green actually is but I know the joke). Also, it seems your own main character wants to kill you now... I'm kind of impressed, not many authors have that happen to them.
3223554 The movie Soylent Green began as a novella by Harry Harrison... I think... called Make Room! Make Room! The plots were the same. By the 21st Century climate change, pollution, and rampant overpopulation were making it impossible to feed everybody. Enter the Soylent Corporation and its innovative and groundbreaking concepts involving processing sea-grown algae (Soylent Red, I believe.) into edible rations. (Actual food in the form of fruits, vegetables, and meat by now have become vanishingly rare!) ...It still wasn't enough. A highly secretive new process was developed using dead humans as raw material... and thereby hangs the tale. Give the movie a look. It has one of Chuck Heston's better performances and it has the last film appearance of Edward G. Robinson as well!
Also... Starry wouldn't dare! She wasn't too happy about the whole costume change but we've got an ironclad contract! Waitaminnet.... I thought I heard the sound of heavy hooves sneaking around. Must be my imaginat..........
3223321 *Drumming up business for the Soylent Corp.* Bring out yer Dead! *bong* Bring out yer Dead!
One minor glitch in the text:
I think you're missing a 'T' there.
That doesn't detract from a really splendid chapter. This story gets better and better.
3224924......................AAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The fix is in..now! Give that Pony a Golden Tribble!!!
3224427 Argh, don't do that, you reminded me of a horrible scene in Fallout Equestria.
So, Soylent Green is a movie huh?? well now the joke makes much more sense.
3226989 Which scene was that? Nothing creeped me out more than that Alicorn wearing Luna's skull!
3231357 Ah that's a bit of a long story, not so much creepy as it was rage inducing, and a bit scary too. I can PM you about it if you like. The alicorn wearing Luna's skull (and a lot of her skeleton too as I recall) wasn't very bright though was she, sharp horn pointing up straight below her head.
3231395
Yes, go ahead and please do. Always up for comparing notes on F:EQ!