In a futuristic Equestria, a young earth pony struggles to get herself a job within a space colony. Can Shetland surpass dangers and her own mothers disapproval to join the Voidmarines?
Voidmarines.
A new wing of Equestrias military, created shortly after the first space colony, Horizon. Many graduates of military school dream of joining their ranks and so does Shetland.
But with difficulties even acquiring the job in the first place, and faced with her mother's disapproval, can she really succeed to obtain her dream... and the dangers that come with it?
At the bottom of Canterlot Mountain, a dozen ponies slogged away on the running track of a large sporting field. Their energy had been long spent over the last forty minutes, yet they were still trudging on. One pony in particular forced her aching limbs to pound into the ground, even as the cold February air punished her efforts by burning in her sore lungs.
Yet, Shetland continued, her eyes focused solely on the starting block. A large drop of sweat threatened her eye, yet she refused to stop and wipe it off. She had to maintain her lead and this thought helped her propel herself forward, passing an utterly exhausted unicorn, who trotted at only half her speed. It brought a smile to her face. She was three rounds ahead of everypony else and within these last five minutes, she was determined to add a fourth to it. So, grinding her teeth, she lowered her head and picked up her pace, looking like a charging bull. Shetland was a tall earthpony mare, towering over most ponies and reaching at least a couple inches over the rest. She resembled a brawny bullock, having the same width of shoulders. Her coat, drenched in sweat, shone in the light as a glimmering brown. Her cutie mark showed an exploding firework, the colorful sparkles blending together with her sweat.
That moment, a gust of cold wind swept over her forehead and Shetland raised her head, relishing in the small gift as it blew the sweaty, cream colored mane out of her face. Every second felt painful and yet, it blurred together, and she lost track of the time. Instead of focusing on her count, her perception shrunk to only the next turn, the next few steps. And while it was painful, each time she reached her small goal, it blurred together with the goals before. She was so focused that she almost missed the shrill scream of a whistle, which brought everyone to freeze in their tracks, wiping their foreheads and addressing their thanks to the heavens. They all gathered around the old pegasus with the whistle, leaning on each other, splashing water on their faces while Shetland did her best to stand upright and avoid panting too loudly. She looked over to the judges as they made their notes on clipboards, an uneasy feeling settling in her chest. This must've been enough, she told herself. She had beaten everyone else by a distance on this test, surely that would get her a place in this mission.
Since she was a filly, Shetland had always dreamt of visiting the stars, and this was her last chance. If she did not get one of the two spots for this job, she'd have to wait for the next year and go through the same process again.
“Alright,” The old pegasus, a white stallion whose wings were tucked tightly to his sides, put down his notebook. “Thank you all for participating in this physical evaluation. We'll notify you per letter within the week. Have a good day, you've deserved yourself a rest”
There it was, Shetland thought, staying in her spot as the other applicants made their way to the showers.
Whistle gave her a look, craning his neck. With pegasi being the smallest pony race to begin with, he was visibly uncomfortable, being so close to a mare more than two heads taller than himself. “Do you have a question?”
“Yes, please.” Shetland said, trying to appear as friendly and casual as possible. “I was simply wondering about the test and how much our performance influences your eventual decision.”
He raised an eyebrow.
Right, right, get to the point, she thought. "Could you tell me whether my chances-"
“No, I'm afraid I cannot.” he said gruffly and took a step back to relieve his neck a little. “I can't tell the applicants. I hope you understand.”
“Yeah.” she replied, trying to hide her disappointment. “Of course, rules are rules. Thank you for your time.”
It's always the same. she thought as she entered the showers. Never a straight answer. No feedback, just like all the other times…” Her train of thought stopped as the shower released a stream of cold water on her head, dousing her worries away. Her movements were sluggish, her muscles overburdened from the murderous pace she had pulled herself through in the track. And the weightlifting and the shooting tests before. And the obstacle course in the Everfree Swamp yesterday, coupled with lengthy, mentally exhausting interviews...
Applying for a job was everything but easy, especially if that place was sought by so many, aiming for a quick rise in rank in Equestria’s colony.
As she stepped outside, a voice greeted her, even though it seemed like multiple, as if a whole group of young mares was speaking at once. Shetland looked around and saw the source of the shout: her best friend Ciloa Pie.
Ciloa was a changeling whose chipper attitude shone through her smile as she waved enthusiastically.
“Hey, Ciloa.” Shetland returned her greeting, meeting her at her side of the street.
“You were amazing out there!” Ciloa said, lightly boxing Shetland a few inches under her shoulder, which was the highest point she could comfortably reach.
“I saw you, from up there!” She pointed at a formation of clouds just over the sporting area. “You were amazing, left everyone in the dust. You're basically guaranteed the spot!”
“That's what I thought the last four times, Cily.” Shetland said somberly. It was her last chance. from five missions, she had been denied four times. And each one came as a surprise to her, the interviews always appeared to go fine, she'd always been admitted to the physical tests where she generally surpassed any other contestant- being tall had its advantages- and then… silence. For weeks. Until the letter came: No, we cannot accept your application, bla bla, better candidates, truly sorry bla bla. Never a reason, never an explanation, just a flat out refusal she had no basis to argue with. Or understand.
She felt Ciloa’s hoof on her shoulder. “I'll cross my hooves for you, Shetty. It'd be awesome if we could go together."
Ciloa was assigned to the same place Shetland sought and was even sheduled to depart with the same ship. However, her assignment was a scientific one. Having acquired a geology degree, she was sent to study alien rocks.
“That's the hope.” Shetland said, looking up Canterlot mountain, covered in the sprawling metropolis that was Equestria's capital city. Her legs hurt at the mere sight. “Go ahead, I'll take my time.”
Ciloa shrugged. “I'll stay with you.”
“Won't be fun, all I'm gonna do is complain how much my hooves hurt.”
“What can I say?” Ciloa replied with a grin. “I love to see you suffer.”
Shetland threw out a playful slap, which Ciloa dodged with a quick jump backwards. “Hate you, too.” Shetland said, and both mares shared a laugh.
It was close to noon when they arrived at their small home. It used to be a little student home for the university of geology, but when Ciloa’s roommate dropped out, she'd just invited Shetland to live with her instead. And even though her studies were over, the house would only be needed next semester, and both of them hoped to be far, far away from the planet by then. This accommodation had a few advantages, the most important one being that it was cheap. As for disadvantages, Shetland lowered her head to avoid the doorframe. The house wasn't exactly built for her dimensions and her neck increasingly began to remind her of it. She always felt just a little squeezed in these rooms. But living together with a friend beats living with your mother by lengths.
Ciloa zipped through the door and past Shetland. “Would you mind checking the mail? I'm gonna whip us up some sandwiches.”
“How many?” Shetland asked as she retrieved the letters, throwing away an advertisement for a delivery service without a second look.
“Seven.”
Shetland made her way to the couch. It let out a suffering creak as she sat down, sorting the mail. There was a letter for Ciloa from her cousins. Shetland fondly remembered visiting them. The Pie family maintained an alligator reservoir in the south of Equestria. They were an awfully nice bunch and had many a story to tell. She made a note to ask Ciloa what it was about.
Next came a letter from Ciloa’s mother and a few more advertisements Shetland mechanically sorted out.
“Anything interesting?” Ciloa asked as she came over, levitating a big plate of sandwiches. “Here you go, seven… and three for me.”
Shetland gave her a dirty look. “Ha. ha.”
“So you don't want them?” Ciloa raised an eyebrow.
“I didn't say that!”
As Shetland picked up her first sandwich, Ciloa took the letters from her family. “Just hope they're not inviting me over, I'd hate to tell them I can't go.” She glanced over. “You got a letter there, too, Shetty.”
Letting out a sigh, Shetland held up the last letter. It was bigger than the rest and the envelope was colored in a faint shade of purple. A bright pink star sealed the letter, surrounded by five smaller ones. Below it stood two letters, a golden, ornate TS.
Shetland ripped open the letter, turning away from Ciloa so she couldn't peek.
Dear Shetland,
I hope you are enjoying your life in Canterlot with your friends, it is truly wonderful that you three got as close as you did-
Shetland skimmed through a few paragraphs of niceties.
-please convey my warm greetings to them. And tell them they are always welcome to visit me at the castle. It gets a little lonely sometimes.
She noted that the last dot appeared to be a little bigger and darker than the rest.
I know you really want to get into space and that the military program appeared like the easiest option for you, but there are always alternatives. For example, the university of marine biology in Baltimare still has spots for an aspiring student-
She crumpled the letter between her hooves and threw it across the room, missing the trashcan by a few hooves. Ciloa gave her a bemused look. “You know, one day you'll get locked up for treating royal messages like this.”
Shetland snorted. “Mom just wants to get me to go back to school. Again. You'd think a life experience of two-hundred years teaches you the meaning of NO.” Her eyes wandered over a poster of a pony in powered armor, his hoof raised to his head in a salute as his chest filled with pride. A member of the Voidmarines. Her way to the stars. To the colony of Horizon.
“Maybe it teaches you the benefits of stubbornness.” Ciloa suggested with a grin.
Shetland chomped into a sandwich.
Meanwhile, Ciloa leaned back and levitated the weeded out letters over to the bin. “You know, your mom could probably help you getting the job. With your talent and Princess Twilight voting for you, they'll have a hard time rejecting you.”
Shetland let out a long groan. “I wanna do this by myself, Cily, If she just gets me the job, then I didn't really earn it, right?”
“But, you don’t exactly have that many options anymore, right?” Before Shetland had a chance to answer, Ciloa quickly interjected. “Just go and visit her, you have nothing to lose.”
“I guess… but she'll try and talk me out of it again and she'll pressure me to study.” Shetland whined, but Ciloa calmly repeated:
“Nothing. To lose.”
Shetland slumped back on the sofa. “Alright, I guess… I'll try seeing her sometime this week.”
“Great.” Ciloa grinned. Her eyes darted from Shetland's empty plate to her own. “Want one more sandwich?”
Just then, the doorbell rang.
“I'll get it.” Shetland groaned, forcing her aching muscles out of the couch. “Who's there?”
“Press,” a male voice answered. On the couch, Ciloa's head popped up, before checking her reflection in the mirror
“Press what?” Shetland asked with a smirk.
“Oh, haha, Shetty. Let me in.”
Press was a unicorn with a thick yellow coat and a flagpole as his cutie mark. He was a few inches taller than Ciloa and if both stood upright, he could probably tickle Shetland's chin with his horn.
He stepped through the door, his eyes gleaming with inner light. “I did it!” he exclaimed. He seemed to be short of breath, but that did little to dim his joy. “I've finished the stupid test!”
“Awesome!” Shetland grinned, holding her hoof forward as he rose to meet it with his own. He had applied for the same job as her and they'd promised to vouch for one another should one get accepted.
“Aww, Shetty, It'd be awesome if we all get sent together...” he leaned to the side, looking past her. “Speaking of…”
“She's here, Press,” Shetland grinned. “Probably just in the bathroom.”
“Oh, bad timing.” he sighed. Shetland was pretty certain it had nothing to do with timing.
“Hey, Ciloa,” she called up the stairs. “You gonna greet Press here or what?”
A few moments later the changeling came down, but she looked a little different. Her features were now drawn sharper and her lips smoother than before as she cast a nervous smile his way “Hello.”
“Hey.”
“How'd it go?” she asked.
“Pretty well. But I'm not as good as our big girl here. If she doesn't get in, nopony will.”
“Thanks, pal.” Shetland said. “But we can really just hope now. Who knows what stupid reasons they have for picking out their candidates. Maybe they think I won't fit into a spaceship.”
“A legit concern~” Ciloa teased.
“Don't poke her when she's down, Ciloa.” Press scolded. “But seriously, Shetty, now is not the time to feel down, we're finally done with the stupid tests and interviews, we should celebrate! What do you say?” He reached a hoof out to her with a big smile.
“What do I say? Your treat!” She said, copying his grin.
“WHAT? No way, you eat like a party pony!”
“No, I don't, I just have a bigger stomach!” Shetland protested.
At that, Ciloa leaned over to Press and whispered, plainly audibly:
“Eight. Sandwiches.”
“Hey, I really cut into my reserves today!” Shetland protested, but it just caused them to burst out laughing. “I have a bigger stomach than you guys! That's all... Heh-” And then she too began to chuckle.
It was high noon when the three friends stepped into the bright and lively streets of Canterlot. Ciloa was eager to charge ahead, but to her chagrin, both Press and Shetland were complaining about their hurting legs and so she constantly had to slow down after leaving them a few metres behind. Her wings were buzzing impatiently as she once again fell back between them.
“A little slower than you're used to, huh?” Press asked sympathetically.
“You're like snails!” she complained. “If I was by myself, I'd already be partying.”
“Actually, we're partying, you're just tagging along.” Shetland pointed out.
“I don't need my friends to party for their sake.”
“I don't think that's how logic works, Cily.” Shetland said.
Ciloa sighed. “Are we there yet?”
“No.” Shetland frowned.
“Can I just go ahead?”
“Preferably not.”
“Are we at least close?”
“Not even a quarter.”
They reached a street blocked off by red traffic lights. Ciloa let out a hefty groan. “Ugh, If we could just go over-”
“Not all of us have the luxury of just passing by the traffic! Some of us have to do this every day, so just be quiet, alright?” Shetland snapped.
Taken aback, Ciloa looked up at Shetland’s stony expression. “Sorry…” she mumbled, folding her wings on her back.
“No, I'm sorry.” Shetland sighed.
“Canterlot is really pretty, don't you think?” Press said in an obvious attempt to mollify the two mares.
Still, Shetland had to agree. Ancient castle-esque structures were intermingled and, in some cases, even expanded with modern constructions with a heavy use of glass, supported by beams of steel. What especially stood out to Shetland were the occasional glass tubes connecting two or more of these buildings, where she could see ponies making their busy way only a few metres above the streets. And the ponies, the streets were full of them. Many would have complained, but a mare of Shetlands dimensions was like a rock in a river and all the passersby were water pooling around her. And so Shetland lead the way as her friends followed closely behind and she was able to enjoy the variety because, while the streets were filled to the brim with earth ponies and unicorns and the sky was teeming with flight, there was still more to see. Only a few metres away a changeling dressed in a business suit climbed out of a sewer cover, a shortcut from the inside of Canterlot mountain which was mostly populated by the insectoid equines. In front of a store stood a family of zebras, griffons flew through the sky, a turtle was pushed forwards by impatient hyenas and in the middle of a tight crowd, towering over everyone else, stood a minotaur.
Then they turned a corner, moving towards a small, but eye-catching eatery. It was almost shockingly white, of such pristine cleanliness that the surrounding buildings appeared dirty in comparison. A camera tracked their motions as they stepped into a modestly sized room with a bar and a few spaced-out tables, allowing even Shetland to comfortably maneuver between them. Ciloa rushed ahead, but Press stood tentatively in the doorway, staring at the bar, where a robot said goodbye to a family of pegasi. Shetland went back and touched his shoulder to catch his attention and he followed her to the table. Every now and then he threw a look at the bar while Shetland struggled to find a comfortable position in her chair, as the hoofrests wedged into her sides.
Ciloa passed out the menus, but before Shetland could even take a look at it, a robot had approached their table. It was clearly modeled to resemble a mare. The body was covered in metallic plates, polished with extreme care so that the light reflected on it, forcing Shetland to narrow her eyes.
“Welcome to the Turing Tart.” The waitress said, her voice synthesized by hidden speakers, the area where a mouth would have been covered by a solid plate.“It is always good to see you, Miss Sparkle. Miss Pie.” She gave a nod to Ciloa, then fixated on Press. “Are you a friend of hers, too?”
Press seemed surprised to be spoken to and stared for a few uncomfortable seconds into the robot's eyes. Shetland couldn’t mind him, as those eyes were like black tunnels with only tiny blue, flickering lights shining from the end. However, she had to stop her friend from appearing like an ass and so she jumped in.
“Yeah, he's a friend.”
The robots eyelights shrunk to even tinier pinpricks, but otherwise she seemed fully oblivious to the awkwardness.
“Welcome, friend of Shetland Sparkle.” She said and turned her head back to the large mare. “What would you like?”
“One Nexus-Cola, large.”
“Just some juice for me, I'm trying to stay lean.” Ciloa said with a grin to Shetland.
“Hey, I am lean. For… my size!” Shetland retorted lamely. Ciloa laughed.
“That chair doesn't agree with you~”
The waitress tilted her head. “Please clarify: Does the discomfort come from a fear that the chair could be damaged by your weight or because it does not comfortably contain the width of your rear?” Shetland facehooved, her cheeks flaring.
“Its squishing your butt!” Ciloa said between fits of giggles and even Press woke from his trance to join in.
The robot, oblivious of the amusement she caused, continued her former statement. “If it is the former, I can assure you not to worry, as the chairs are capable of holding even robot ponies such as myself and despite your larger size, your weight still does not exceed mine. If it is the latter, we have a few special chairs available in case visitors belonging to larger species such as Minotaurs, Buffalos and Alicorns-”
“YES, just get one of them!” Shetland shouted over the laughter of her friends and covered her eyes with her hooves. The waitress turned to Press.
“Would you like to order something, too?”
Taken aback, Press hurriedly grabbed the menu and hastily flipped through it, but Shetland pushed his hoof down. “He'd like the same as me, medium.”
“Thank you.” She said and turned to leave. When there was a bit of distance, Shetland turned to Press and raised an eyebrow.
“What was that about, Press?” She asked
“I-I don't know,” he stammered and bit his lip as he glanced at the back of the mechanical mare. “How do you talk to robots?”
“Just like you would to a normal pony,” Ciloa said, looking at him crossly. “Haven't you ever met one?”
“I’ve seen them sometimes, but…” he paused, glancing to the counter once again. “I haven't specifically sought them out, I guess.”
“And you haven't ever went to a place like this, that's worked by them?” Ciloa asked.
“I'd feel weird going to a place just to see the robots. Don't you?”
Ciloa and Shetland exchanged looks. Then they both shrugged.
“My roommate before Shetty was a bot.” Ciloa said. “She always took me here after an exam.”
“And mom pretty much made herself the patron of A.Is, you bet I met a lot of them.” Shetland said. “It's pretty normal for me, too.”
Press groaned. “So I stand out. Of course.”
Ciloa snickered. “I think it's the changeling who stands out in the pony group.”
Shetland cleared her throat and placed a hoof on her own head, then lowered it far down to Ciloa's.
“Yeah, right.” Press let out a relieved laughter. “You stick out anywhere!”
As their drinks arrived, Press turned to the robot with a forced smile. “Thank you… uhm…”
“My name is Toasty Crunch,” the mechanical mare responded. “ And please do not worry, my kind is used to a certain tenseness when encountering ponies with little exposure to social A.Is. No offense has been taken.”
His mouth fell open. “You… listened in on us?”
Her ears twitched, eliciting a metallic creak. “I am required to delete any observation of guests from my memory after a timespan of 10 minutes. Your privacy is one of our priorities.”
For a moment, Press was speechless. “Do you hear everything in this restaurant?” A fold appeared on his forehead as he tried to remember what exactly they had said.
“Affirmative.”
“Why don't you delete it immediately?” He burst out.
“And couldn't you have just, like, reduced your audio pickup or something?” Shetland wondered.
A moment of silence passed and one odd moment, Shetland was certain she could hear the sound of Toasty's processor as it searched for an answer. Instead however, it came from Ciloa.
“Is it security related?”
The robot lowered her head. Shetland had to strain her ears to hear her low-volume voice. “Please do not misunderstand, aggression from biological intelligence towards artificial intelligence is far from common, but the threat is also far from non-existent. We frequently struggle with scratchwork on our walls. Propaganda like ‘Never born, never lived’ or ‘Remember Hiroshimare’. Please understand the little intrusion of your privacy, we deemed it necessary.”
“Damn... that sucks,” Press mumbled, his eyes locked on the table surface.
“It has been a very long time since the last serious offense has occurred.” Toasty appeased him. “Your drinks will be seven bits, by the way.”
Press covered for the group, shoving two more bits into the robot’s hoof with a nervous smile. Ciloa was already digging in her purse to slide her own share over, but Shetland leaned back with a smirk. “Your treat, Press, remember?”
He gave her a stink eye. She grinned. “What, you're gonna go out with two mares and then make them pay?”
Both he and Ciloa gave her a sour look. The changeling moved her two bits over to Press inchmeal. Shetland snickered, unworried. Press rolled his eyes, but the corners of his lips twitched upwards.
“You know, I saw this stall just down the street and I wouldn't say no to some roasted crickets.” She said passively. A second later she realized her mistake as Press stopped and gave her a warning look.
“Which I'll pay for myself, no worries.” Shetland gave in with an amused shake of her head.
Ciloa decided the day was perfect to spend in an open-air-pool and without hesitation Press voted for her, flashing a smile her way. However, both his and Shetland’s limbs still felt a little sore and so they leisurely splashed around in the warm water, watching Ciloa duck and dive, her motions showing the grace of a seahorse… or at least Shetland presumed that's what Press would have said if she hadn't splashed his face with water that moment. He sputtered and splashed back and soon they were locked in a three-way merciless battle. Laughing, Shetland gave up as her friends allied against her, both using their magic to hit her with streams of water from both sides. Congratulating their victory she clapped them on the back and suddenly gripped their heads, dipping them both underwater. Soon after they reemerged, sputtering and glaring, they started a contest who could make the most impressive jump from the highest springboard, which Shetland had in the bag. Maybe she even got a little swept away from her friends cheering whenever they were hit by the splash and so she tried over and over until her rump felt like that one time as a foal Twilight caught her in the adult-section of the library. But instead of shame, all she felt now was an unconquerable cheerfulness as she and her friend toured through Canterlot. She barely noticed the passage of time until she realized that the streets were now illuminated by huge billboards and street lights. Still, Ciloa seemed to have a last goal in mind and that goal, Shetland presumed, was the bottom of a glass.
She would not be disappointed, as ten minutes later, they stood in front of a bar right next to the campus of her old university. Shetland and Press threw her uneasy looks.
“What?” She asked, her smile cracking. “It’s the perfect way to end the day. Smashed!”
Press raised a hoof, his eyes looking up to Shetland’s. “Not gonna disagree with you here, but… we shouldn't… all get drunk, y'know?”
“Yeah,” Shetland agreed, biting her lip as she avoided his look with the same effort he tried to meet hers. “Somepony's gotta get the others back home when they're drunk off their hooves.”
Ciloa took a longing look over her shoulder towards the bar. “Alright, it's your celebration, I'll just stick it out.”
“No way!” Press immediately interjected. “I'll do it.”
She shook her head. “It's your celebration, Press. I'll stay sober and watch out.”
“I'll stay sober,” Shetland flashed a smirk. “After all, even I would feel like a jerk if I made him pay for my drinks while he can't have any.”
“I could still sit it out…” Ciloa offered, but Shetland waved it off.
“If I get hammered, it'd take more than one of you to watch out for me.”
Neither of her friends managed a comeback from that. “Thanks, Shetty.” Ciloa said as a grin grew on her face and she bounced through the door. Shetland wanted to follow, but Press grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back.
“Shetland, what drink is her favorite?” he whispered quietly, fidgeting on his hooves and throwing an apprehensive look at the entrance.
She could make fun of him later, Shetland decided as she tried to think back. To her knowledge Ciloa would drink just about anything, really. “I've seen her order cream liquor lots of times, you probably can't go wrong with that. The real question is whether you brought enough money.”
“With your grabby hooves out of my purse? More than enough.”
“I wouldn't be that sure if I were you.” she said half jokingly, half warningly.
“I'll watch out,” he chuckled. Then he raised a hoof to Shetland’s shoulder. “Thanks for sticking this out, Shetty.”
“Wouldn't want a repeat of last time.” She confirmed. “Go get her. Stay cool.”
“You'll make sure it doesn't get out of hoof, right?” He nibbled on his lip.
“You know me, I always got your back.” She assured him and nudged him towards the bar entrance. “Now get in. Any moment now, she'll reach the point where she won't remember a thing tomorrow.”
She followed after him. The air was hot, deafening music played and every few steps a patch of fur brushed over her as she made her way through the cramped maze of tables and ponies. It peeved her a little to see Press weave through the bar with ease, but at least Ciloa had somehow managed to nab an empty table where they sat, she and Press on one side while Shetland claimed an entire bench for herself.
Even just across the table, Shetland found it difficult to make out exactly what her friends were saying. The stench of alcohol stung her nose and after Press had ordered Cream Liquor for Ciloa and some fruity cocktail for himself, she had to satisfy herself with a glass of water. Her friends seemed to have fun however, as they raised their glasses and tried to gulp down their booze quicker than the other. Press didn't even manage a quarter when Ciloa slammed down her glass and she had to pat his back as he coughed and sputtered. After that, he slowed down considerably, though the changeling apparently knew no such restraints.
Shetland leaned back, letting her eyes wander. As much as she told herself it was the most reasonable choice, she could not help but feel a little bit left out, especially as Press, in a moment of bravery, reached out to hold Ciloa’s hoof with his own and sipped a little from her glass. Shetland shook her head, trying to drown out the music, the ponies and especially her friends in her thoughts. She thought about the test, which went so well… which she would have thought in the bag if she hadn’t failed before under the same circumstances. There was no guarantee. She never learned what the problem was the last few times, so would it happen again? Her worry grew as these thoughts crept in her mind. Her last chance was probably being decided on this very moment and all she could do was sit in a bar and rack her brain about it. If only there was something she could do to increase her chances right now. Her eyes wandered to Ciloa, whose laughter sounded even above the music. Press’s confused expression made it obvious he didn’t think his joke was good enough to incite a reaction like that.
Shetland’s head sagged down as she once again attempted to retreat into her mind, when she heard someone speak. Unable to make out the exact words, she turned to a red unicorn who smiled up at her. Confused, she leaned close to him and peeked her ears. His smile faltered a little and for a moment he seemed like he was about to back off. She paid it no mind, she was used to ponies being intimidated if she got too close. But this one seemed a little braver than that as he quickly regained his smile.
“Hello, My name is Crimson Light. Call me Crimson.” He extended a hoof which she shook, matching his smile.
“I'm Shetland. Nice to meet you.”
“I saw you this morning at the test. You were amazing, pretty sure you've broken a record there, Shetland.”
She bashfully rubbed the back of her head as a faint shade of pink appeared on her cheeks. “Uhm, thank you for the compliment.” she said and tried to remember the faces of the other participants. “Were you taking the test, too?”
“Oh, oh no, not today.” He grinned. “I've finished mine a month ago, but I came to see the others today. Best to know your competition… or potential friends.”
So there's even more competition than I'd realized, Shetland thought sourly. Outwardly she maintained a smile. “Thats nice to know. Maybe you could put in a word for me…?”
“HA!” Crimson called out. “I doubt you’ll need it, seeing how you left everypony in the dirt.”
She matched his chuckle, although maybe it sounded a little forced. “Every bit counts.”
“That it does, though I think I require your word more than you mine.” He grinned. Then the music picked up and Shetland folded her ears down, which forced Crimson to shout. “I THINK THEY'RE OPENING THE DANCE FLOOR, WANNA GO FOR A SPIN?”
Shetland threw a look at Press and Ciloa, who, oblivious to the booming music, snuck close together, leaning on each other for support. With no immediate emergency in sight, Shetland accepted Crimson’s offer: the much better alternative to sitting and waiting and covering her ears.
While at first bothersome, it did not take long until they cleared a part of the dancefloor by sheer virtue of Shetland accidentally bumping into a few other pairs. Crimson was not used to dancing with a mare whose collarbone was on the same level as his eyes, but she quickly informed him of the how, taken straight from tips her mother had given her. It took him a few minutes but then they broke out into an energetic dance which scared almost a dozen ponies off the dancefloor. When they, exhausted and sweaty, sat down on a bench, they began chatting. Shetland would not remember any of it, the contents of their conversation swallowed up by music, bad air and heavy breathing, but it was fun. Crimson was humorous and optimistic and he seemed a little infatuated with her size. Or maybe she read too much into it and he simply liked her looks? Either way, his friendliness was intoxicating. They wondered what their first duties would be in their jobs and whether they would ever have to defend the colonies from an attack. Crimson thought the most likely adversary would be undiscovered aliens from the planet itself. Shetland disagreed.
“There is no intelligent life on Horizon, except us. The only attacks are gonna come from other nations who want a piece of the big cake. The Hyena Empire or Griffony.”
Ultimately, they settled on a bet, aliens meant a drink for Shetland and vice versa.
“If it ever happens.” Crimson said.
His biggest interest, however, was who would become his Comrades. Flashing a grin, Shetland waved over to her friend’s table, who were cuddled up pretty tight. “You're in luck, cause my friend Ciloa is a scientist who’s already on the team and Press--” Her voice was undercut by a shout. Ciloa, drunk enough to bring down a horse, had dragged her elbow-long tongue over Press's cheek and was now leaning in to kiss him. Judging from his startled expression, Press had not been warned of this advance and was now pushing the clingy changeling off of him. His face broke out in pure panic after she leaned forward and whispered something in his ears. Then he screamed: “GET A HOLD ON YOURSELF!” and shoved her off. Many heads turned as the hammered changeling fell to the ground, almost knocking over the table.
Uncomprehendingly, she stared up at Press, until a shadow fell on her face.
“Sorry…” she whispered, clawing her way back up and onto her bench, sliding on a fair distance to Press. Her horn sparked to life, but Shetland pressed down the glass she was about to levitate.
“I think you've had enough.” she said sternly, seeking to look into Ciloa's eyes. “It's probably time for us to go home.”
Ciloa somberly agreed and so, after saying goodbye to Crimson, Shetland escorted her back to their home a few streets further while Press stayed back to pay the bills. She made sure Ciloa found the way up the stairs and into her bed and that she had a bucket ready before she returned to the front of the bar where Press was already waiting, quietly berating himself.
“What exactly happened?” she asked.
Press stopped his mumbling self-torment. “She got way too drunk, way too fast.”
“Well, that was predictable.” Shetland sighed. “What did she say?”
“Asked me to check out the bathroom. Together.” he said with a grim expression.
“Oh, snap.” she whistled. “How much did she drink?”
“Seven and a half.” he grumbled. “I should have insisted on her slowing down.”
“Hindsight is twenty-twenty.” Shetland said. “Do you need help getting home?”
“No.” A moment of silence passed between them. “Shetty?”
“Hmm?”
“Should I have… let her?”
She puffed out her cheek. “She obviously wanted it then, but she was really drunk.” Shetland was almost certain Ciloa wouldn't have minded it even if she’d been sober.
“So…”
“I think you’ve made the right decision. Thats no way to do your first time.” Shetland threw a meaningful look to Press, who groaned.
“I probably came off as a giant prude to her…”
“I dont think you came off as a prude. Mostly just sensible. And on the plus side, she probably won’t even remember that by tomorrow.”
“Hopefully…” he groaned. “Good night, Shetland.”
By the time she got back, Ciloa was fast asleep in the lower half of their shared bunk bed, an unusual occurrence. Normally she would just use her changeling wall-climbing powers to cling to the ceiling, as she’d stated she didn’t trust the bed not to buckle under Shetland's weight. As such the lower bunk was only ever used by guests or when, like now, Ciloa was too drunk to climb up safely. First, Shetland emptied the bucket in the sink and washed it out. She tucked her friend in, shut the windows and locked the house door. Only then did she allow herself to pull the ladder until it was in a 45 degree angle to the bed and climb the creaking steps. As most things in their home, her bed wasn't quite made for her dimensions and so she had cushioned one edge with several pillows, on which her neck rested, while her head dipped downwards.
“Good night Ciloa.” she muttered. She received no answer but a loud, nerve-racking snore.
It was almost noon when Ciloa awoke, exhausted from the other day's physical and liquid activities. Her way downstairs was preceded by her own groaning from a splitting headache. Shetland, from the comfort of the couch, looked up from the book she’d been reading.
“How're you feeling?” she asked softly.
“Like somepony went to town on my skull with a hammer.” The changeling groaned, staggering into the kitchen and toward the coffee machine. With a mug full of steaming brew suspended in her magic, she sat down beside Shetland, throwing nervous looks at the taller mare. Shetland tried to focus on reading, but found herself unable to, the unspoken question hanging silently in the air. Finally, she put the book away and faced Ciloa.
“How much do you remember about yesterday evening?”
Ciloa flinched. “It's fuzzy,” she sighed. “I remember us all drinking-” Shetlands brows narrowed. “-and then shouting and then I was asleep. I-I think Press shouted at me.” A shiver went through her body. “What exactly happened? Is he still mad at me?”
Well, she could at least settle one worry, Shetland thought as she placed a hoof on Ciloa’s shoulder. “He's fine.” she said reassuringly. “I met him in the gym this morning and he is okay, he's not mad at you.” Like an afterthought, she added, “We all know you can't handle the booze.”
“HEY, I can handle alcohol just fine, Shetland!” Ciloa shrugged the hoof off her shoulder.
“OH REALLY?” Shetland shouted from the top of her lungs.
It took a solid minute for Ciloa to uncover her ears and face Shetland’s grin.
“Smartflank.” she grumbled. Shetland laughed.
“Ha ha.” Ciloa said mechanically, yet the corners of her lips twitched playfully. She tried to mask it by taking a sip from her coffee mug. Shetland stared in wonder as the disgusting brew invigorated the changeling. Where before she had sat limply like a sack potatoes, she was now stretching like a cat, her wings creating a low hum as she lifted herself up to the ceiling, her hooves somehow sticking to the surface. With a grin, she looked down at Shetland.
“Not so big anymore, huh?”
Shetland rolled her eyes. “We could measure if you come down.”
“Nope, I like it up here.” she chuckled. “And I got better things to do today-”
“Like drinking?”
“No, like studying.” A bit of sobriety had gotten into her voice. “I need to be up-to-date with the rock samples from Horizon, and I'm already two days behind, supporting you two-”
“And getting drunk.” Shetland smirked, but hastily added. “We appreciate your help of course.”
“As you should. I'm great like that.” Ciloa smirked. “So no more jokes at my expense.”
“I get you. For now.” Shetland mumbled. She reached for her book, but Ciloa was looking curiously into the pages and Shetland couldn't concentrate with a changeling dangling over her head.
“Soooo, whatcha reading?” Ciloa asked.
Wordlessly, Shetland showed her the cover art: a cartoonish piece of dynamite with a waking alarm strapped onto it, hanging from a door handle. The title proudly proclaimed: “Most unsubtle lockpicks! Dynamite etc.”
“Oh, Shetty.” Ciloa laughed. “That's kinda awesome and nerdy at once.”
“And rocks are more exciting, huh?” Shetland responded drily.
Ciloa refrained from an answer, choosing to appear in dignified silence instead. In Shetland’s eyes she appeared like a giant spider, clinging to the ceiling.
“So, that's your plan for today?” Ciloa asked. “Read a book?”
“Actually, there's only a couple more pages.” Shetland grumbled as she flipped through them. “If you'd just let me concentrate… oh oh.”
“Oh oh?”
She had flipped to the last page, where a purple sign proclaimed:
Property of Ponyville royal library
If not returned within two weeks, additional fees will be due.
The date had already passed, Shetland realized, swallowing as she fought down her annoyance. It wasn't the minimal fees she was worried about, it was…
“Well, you wanted to visit your mom anyway, right?”
That.
It was funny, but after two hours of travel, it was when Shetland approached the final street cast in shadow from the crystal castle that she toyed with the idea of just turning back. But Shetland wasn't a mare who backed off right before her goal. If she didn't want to finish it, she shouldn't have started.
Also, she didn't want to live through a lengthy lecture about literary liability.
Knocking her hoof on the golden gates produced a strangely loud sound. Long ago her mother had enchanted these doors to announce a guest's presence and she had never given in to the invention of doorbells, preferring to keep the structure largely as it was. A magenta aura formed around the gates, which emitted a loud click. For a moment, Shetland contemplated: Normally her mother would greet every visitor personally, the only exception being if she was busy, usually in the throneroom. If she walked up the stairs and to the left, she could whip into the library, return the book and be back outside before her mother would notice. However, Shetland frowned at the prospect of explaining to Ciloa that she snuck her way around her own mother. Not to mention that it made her feel… scummy.
Taking the right way, she was met with another locked door. With a sigh, she knocked. A few seconds later, the door opened and Shetland stood face to face with the Queen of the changelings. Well, chest to face. Nonetheless, Shetland stepped back from the silver unicorn that was Queen Twinkle, lowering her head hastily.
“Shetland!” The Queen exclaimed, breaking out in a smile. In the back of the room, Shetland could see the form of her mother stir. Twinkle poked Shetland's chest. “You don't need to bow, we're in the privacy of your home.”
Shetland looked down at the queen. She was not a disguised changeling, despite what some rumors claimed. Twinkle was born a unicorn, adopted into the royal family and named after the first pony queen. Like every changeling queen since their integration, they were close friends of the Sparkles, and so Shetland had met the powerful unicorn on several occasions. Still, it was a shock to suddenly stand in front of one of the four most powerful ponies in Equestria. Shetland managed to return a mostly sincere smile.
“Shetty, could you please wait for a few more minutes while I finish business with the Queen?” Twilight’s voice came out of the room.
“Oooooh…” Twinkle looked from Twilight to Shetland. “I… think I drank too much. Where's the potty?”
Twilight sighed. “It's still at the end of the wing.”
“Right. You finish… your business while I do mine.” The Queen beamed, winking at Shetland before she dashed past her.
And so Shetland stepped inside, her gaze wandering everywhere but straight ahead. A circle of chairs stood around a large table sporting a map of Equestria. The walls were bare, but on the ceiling hung the rootwork of an old tree, from which hung chains, connecting photos of ponies. One stood out for its central position, even though there were only four pictures. A young Twilight with a baby dragon, part of his eggshell still clinging to his head. A photo of Twilight and the same yet older dragon surrounding a unicorn mare with a graduation cap. Another one, this time with a buck, hugging Twilight, also wearing a graduation cap. Her children. And then, of course, was the picture of a filly Shetland, riding on her mother’s back as they soared through the wind. Back when family was easier.
Her attention snapped back to the end of the room, where the present-Twilight had risen from her throne, her mighty alicorn-form allowing her to gaze down at Shetland. “We were in the middle of some important work with the queen.”
Shetland met her gaze. “Twinkle doesn't seem to think it's too important for a bathroom break.” They looked each other in the eyes for a moment before Twilight’s expression softened.
“I'm sorry, Shetty, I didn't want to make you feel unwelcome.” she said, closing the distance between them. “How is Canterlot? I hear you went through another test, how did it go?” Her smile was strained, but at least she tried.
“I wish I knew, these test managers never tell you anything.” Shetland huffed.
“They’re usually not allowed to, Shetty.”
“I know, but that’s stupid, how am I supposed to know what I'm doing wrong if nopony tells me anything?”
“Well…” Twilight hesitated for a moment, thinking of the right words. “Maybe this career just isn't for you-”
“I brought a book.” Shetland briskly cut in. “It's overdue.”
“Oh…” Twilight deflated. She levitated the book out of Shetlands bag and frowned as she read the cover. “Shetty…”
“Don't.” Shetland warned.
Twilight eyes shifted away for a moment, but then they focused back on the book in a steely gaze.
“No.” Shetland hissed through her gritted teeth.
“It's dangerous!” Twilight exclaimed. “Your cutie mark is for pyrotechnics, but you got it for making sparklers! Not handling… dynamite, that's no future for you!”
There it was again. “I follow all the safety precautions!” Shetland shouted back, her face growing red. “I'm not stupid, I know what I'm doing and if I'm going to become a Voidmarine, then it’ll only help if I know how to handle explosives!”
“That's not any safer! There are other ways to go into space, you could study and take an intellectual position-”
“I DON’T WANT TO STUDY!” Shetland screamed. “I'm not a foal anymore, I can make my own decisions, but maybe YOU don't notice the passage of time anymore after a few centuries.” She stretched her neck, almost reaching eye level with the alicorn.
“I know exactly how long it took for you to visit me once!” Twilight retorted.
“As if you shone with your presence in my life, do I need to remind you of that, you hypocritical old hag?!”
“Ahem.” A tempered voice came from the doorway. Both red-headed mares turned to Queen Twinkle, then looked in opposing directions, embarrassment written on their faces.
“I tried to be reasonable.” Shetland grumbled and knocked over a chair outside the throneroom, where the Queen and Princess finished up whatever business they had. It wasn't her fault, she assured herself again, she had tried to avoid the topic but Twilight just had to argue it again, as if everything hadn't been said already. But it was like running against a solid wall, Twilight just refused to let her make her own decisions! Why was this so hard for her to accept? Shetland vividly remembered their first fight when she had signed up for military school. She had heard her mother shout seldom before, but since then, it had become dreadfully frequent until Shetland asked her friends for help and fled into a shared apartment with Ciloa. She sat down with a sigh. How could a mare as sensible as Twilight Sparkle be this unreasonable in this instance, she pondered. Her uncle Shining Armor (as weird as it felt to use this word for a pony she mostly knew from history books) had been in the royal guard. What happened between then and now?
Shetland sighed and stood up. All this angry ranting wasn't getting her anywhere. The throne room was still closed and she had no idea how long her mother's discussion would last. Well, if she thought Shetland would just wait there for who knows how long, she would be mistaken. There were lots of other things she could do and Twilight would have to wait for Shetland to be available! She had more plans in Ponyville, maybe visit the Donut Joe she hung around every day when she was a kid. And Ciloa had asked her to bring some oranges from the town market. Well, no time like the present, especially if your alternative was to wait for a pissy alicorn!
Ranting on her way down, her eyes were drawn to a particular locked door. Twilight's personal wing, an entire section of the castle she'd never seen. The one time as a foal she snuck her way in she'd set off some kind of alarm. She remembered the following hour clear as crystal, for it had been the first time she'd seen her mother lose her temper. It was a more common occurrence now, but back then she was terrified and promised to never try and enter this section again. Not that it hadn't been tempting from time to time… Shetland averted her eyes. Even if it would be fair, she could respect other pony's decisions. Also, she hadn't gotten any better at avoiding magic detection now than she was back then.
The amplified sound of a knock tore Shetland out of her stupor. Stepping away from the locked door, she instead leaned on the balcony looking down to the entrance where the telltale magenta aura of her mother enveloped the doorhandles, revealing an old, white pegasus with a mangled wing…
Shetland froze. What was her test examiner doing here?
The pegasus looked around, confused, expecting to see the one who opened the door. Shetland used the time to get a good look at his wing. It was like it had been plucked, yes, but the quills of the feathers remained, sticking out like bones from a bisected fish.
His eyes met hers and Shetland was suddenly acutely aware that she was staring down at her superior. From a balcony! Swallowing hard, she forced the corners of her mouth upwards.
He didn't seem to mind however, as he squinted his eyes. “Miss Sparkle… Shetland? Is this you?”
Oh, thank Celestia, he didn't notice! Shetland let go of her breath, only now realizing she'd been holding it. “Yes, Sir!” She answered. Could he make out a smile? He was squinting his eyes pretty hard. “W-would it help if I came down?” Shetland asked and felt the sudden urge to smack herself. She should have just done it instead of asking.
But he just shrugged and made his way for the stairs. His wings unfolded, but he flinched and they folded back on his side. Even as Shetland wondered, she told herself two things. One, never ask him about it and two, don't. Bucking. Stare.
“So… what brings you here? Sir!” She hastily added.
“I was hoping to meet the princess… your mother, miss Sparkle.”
Well, obviously, Shetland thought. “She's a little busy at the moment, I'm afraid.“
“A shame.” he sighed. “She doesn't even have time to spend with her own daughter?”
“What?” Where did that thought come from? “No, she'll be available... soon-ish.” Although Twilight could have a very lenient definition of soon, she thought bitterly.
“Oh… listen to this old bird, jumping to cooky ideas.” He shook his head. “Do you have any idea how long she will be busy?”
“No, I'm afraid not.” Shetland shook her head, gazing towards the gates. Maybe she should find a way to excuse herself quickly, but politely, so she could buy her groceries. But as she tried to think of an excuse, a feeling nagged at her mind, like she had forgotten something… her head jerked upwards. “Sir!”
The pegasus seemed bewildered at her little outburst, but he quickly masked it with an amused smile. “You can call me by my name in privacy, Miss Sparkle.”
Shetland gulped. Oh, sweet Celestia-
“It's Whistle White.” He added with a knowing grin.
She exhaled. “Thank you, Sir… Whistle.”
“No problem. Shetland.” He suddenly flinched. “Oooh, would you mind showing me a place where I can wait? I can't see a chair around and these hooves have served their time standing a long time ago.”
“Of course, Sir.” Shetland nodded and turned to lead the way. “We can wait in front of the throneroom, two floors above us.”
She heard a groan behind herself.
She had planned to leave the old buck in a chair and go about her business, but to her surprise, her mother was waiting for them in the hall by a window. It always seemed strange for Shetland that her mother apparently received the castle before she grew to her present proportions, as everything was clearly made for somepony her size. Even Shetland sometimes felt small in here.
At the sight of her, Whistle took a sharp breath and lowered his head. “Princess Twilight,” he spoke in a reverential tone. “I am recruitment-Sergeant Whistle White. I have come to request a few minutes of your time.”
“Is this about Shetland?” Twinkle's voice came out of the throneroom before her head poked out. Next to her, suspended in her pink magic, floated an overflowing folder. “I'd like to hear that, if I may.”
“My Queen!” Whistle exclaimed, hurrying to lower his head even further. “Ouch!” he staggered, rubbing his aching back.
“You can rise, Sergeant White.” Twilight said, before turning back to the queen. “And whatever he has to say should stay between the three of us, Twinkle.”
“I was hoping for a private audience, Princess.” Whistle affirmed. Shetland tensed up, throwing a glare at Twilight from behind the pegasus's back. It would be the last straw if Twilight could just discuss her career with her superior behind her back!
Thankfully the alicorn seemed to catch the clue. “If this is about my daughter, I believe she has a right to be here.”
Whistle lowered his head again, although with a little more restraint. “It's your decision, Princess.” he said, making Shetland's eye twitch in annoyance. So it was about her. And obviously, her choice didn't matter. This pegasus was quickly adding his name on her list of ponies she had little respect for.
Whistle shot a look towards Shetland, who quickly forced herself to crack a false smile. Unconvinced, he turned his attention completely to the princess. “As you know, your daughter applied for an apprenticeship for our Voidmarine program in our colony on Horizon.” His eyes carefully watched Twilight's expression. “A position of high importance. She will be required to uphold the law, organise defenses, or even join an expeditionary force and explore unknown ecosystems.”
Shetland flashed a smile, holding it against her mother's frown.
“As such,” Whistle continued. “We hold our applicants to high standards. We need to know whether our recruits are truly ready to function in stressful situations and as such we have to look for any sort of physical as well as… psychological complication.”
Shetland frowned. This was not going in a direction she had expected. Did that kooky owl think she was crazy or something?
“Sergeant White,” Twilight asked calmly. “Please ask your questions, we are well aware of their ramifications.”
“O-oh.” Whistle took a moment to recover his thread. “What I'm meaning is that we are unsure how to judge your family situation.”
Both mares tensed, exchanging a look.
“Of course we know she is your daughter,” Whistle said. “But we have no data on her father. Nor have we been able to find an official record revealing his identity.”
Shetland relaxed, letting out a relieved sigh. But Twilight didn't.
“Sergeant White, I know you need to ask these questions, but as far as I know, your guidelines state that you should ask these questions from the recruits themselves, privately. I wish to know why you felt the need to exclude Shetland to the point of trying to discuss it with me in private.”
Shetland looked up as Whistle stood in shock, his eyes widened. Yeah, what was the deal with that? She felt like she could hear the gears in the pegasus's head turning.
“Those rules were made for situations in which only some information about a parent was missing o-or if the conceivement could have… been… unwanted.” His voice was shaky and he threw nervous looks at the princess, trying to read her stony expression. “I did not believe that such an act could be enforced on you, princess, and given a complete lack of information, I supposed the original rules did not apply anymore.”
“Well said.” Twilight said, her expression still unreadable. “But that doesn't explain why you couldn't ask my daughter instead of me.”
“I-I,” He stuttered. “I didn't want to stick my nose in your privacy behind your back!”
Mother and daughter shared a look and they knew what the other was thinking. If Shetland's mother was anypony else, he wouldn't have had any reservations. Shetland began to actively dislike this pony.
“Regardless,” Twilight said. “I think I can answer you… unless my daughter would like to?”
Shetland shrugged.
“Well, then.” Twilight continued. “The answer is that there is no official father. And I don't know his identity.”
Whistle’s eyes widened. “How could this happen, my Princess?”
“Simple.” Twilight chuckled. “It was an artificial insemination, simple as that.”
“O-oh…” Whistle stuttered. “B-But what about the uhm… sponsor?”
“Don't know.” Shetland cut in. “He never tried to find out about me and neither have I.”
Twilight shot her a look before returning her smile to the pegasus. “Sergeant White, I have managed to raise three beautiful and gifted children before and I see the same potential in my Shetty… if she puts it in the right place.”
Shetland scowled. Twilight pretended to ignore her.
“I have raised children before.” Twilight reiterated, glancing at the closed throne doors behind her. “None of them failed to make me, or Equestria, proud. I am certain that even without a second parental figure, I provided a good upbringing for her, so please, don't let that detail spoil your perception of her abilities.”
If only that was true, Shetland grumbled internally, but even through her annoyance, she had to admire her mother's eloquence. Now if he disagreed, he'd question her parental skill, and although he would be right, he didn't seem like the kind of pony to disagree with someone of superior rank on anything. She also couldn't help but notice that Twilight was helping her out right now. At least she wasn't taking the opportunity to sabotage her.
And indeed, Whistle stumbled over his words, trying to assure the princess that he'd never had any doubt. Shetland quickly felt her last pieces of respect for this pony evaporate. She felt thankful that this buck was too old for active service, so she’d only have to see him for a few weeks at most.
“Do you have another concern, Whistle White?” Twilight asked.
“No, Princess. That was it.”
“Does this mean I can come out now?” Twinkle’s voice came from the throneroom.
“Yes.” Twilight said drily to the small unicorn who leapt out of the room. “Have you been eavesdropping on us?”
“Twilight, Twilight,” Twinkle chuckled. “I'm the queen of changelings. What do you think?”
“I'd think that you'd respect a friend's privacy.” The alicorn said with a scowl.
“If you don't think I did, why are we arguing?” She said with a sly grin.
“This is not over, Twinkle.” Twilight sighed, unwilling to continue the exchange in front of outsiders.
“I've looked over your wording in some of the documents.” Twinkle said, her voice falling into a serious tone. “I wrote some corrections on a sheet, you should give those another once-over.”
“Alright.” Twilight groaned and headed back towards her paperwork. “Please knock if you need anything else.” She called over her shoulder.
But the pegasus was done. He respectfully lowered his head before Twinkle and gave a nod to Shetland. “Thank you for your time.” He said before turning to leave.
Shetland bit her lip, her hooves fidgeting as she stared after him. When he reached the stairwell, she called out. “Wait.”
He turned, shooting a look at the sweating mare. “Yes?”
“C-could you please tell me about my test results? S-sir?” Shetland stammered.
“I'm afraid the answer is still no, Miss Sparkle.” he said evenly.
“Of course..:” Shetland muttered, already beating herself on the inside for appearing like an impatient foal.
But the unicorn in the room seemed to have a different idea. “Mister White,” Queen Twinkle said as she approached him. “Surely there is no harm telling us.”
He swallowed, his eyes widened at the queen. “Y-you see,” he stammered. “I have to follow the guidelines set by my superiors-”
“Can you not make one exception? We'll keep our lips sealed, I Promise.” She threw a look to Shetland, who quickly nodded.
“Not telling anyone, sir.” she confirmed.
“Well…” His eyes laid uneasily on Twinkle. “I suppose it won't hurt…”
“So?” Shetland asked, fully fixated on him as she tried to calm her own tenseness. Finally, for the first time, ANY sort of feedback!
“It's impressive,” he said openly. “I've never seen better, Miss Sparkle, even if it's due to your… natural advantage…” He craned his neck to look her in the eyes. “You're a top candidate.”
She utterly failed to conceal her massive grin. “Thank you, sir!” She cheered, shaking his hoof.
“N-no problem, soldier.” he pressed out through the clattering of his teeth. Shetland quickly retracted her hoof and waved. “I'll see you at the training facilities.”
“It’s not a certainty yet.” he warned, flashing a nervous smile. “You shouldn't count your chickens before they're hatched.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Shetland grinned, waving the pegasus goodbye as he started to leave. “Thank you so much.” She whispered to Twinkle.
“It's nothing.” She said, her smile more subdued. “This old nag crumbles if you present him with any title. I bet you could do the same.”
“I wouldn't count on it.” Shetland said, her smile slowly faltering. “I've tried asking before.”
She chuckled. “Shetty, asking is for me. You demand answers.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Shetland asked, raising an eyebrow at the giggling mare.
“Oh, you'll find out in time~”
Shetland shrugged. The queen always liked to play her little games. What occupied her mind was a different issue: If even the test managers thought her results were outstanding, why had she been denied so many times before?
“I don't see the point in worrying, Shetty,” Ciloa said that evening after Shetland recounted her encounter with the gnarly pegasus. “If he said you did good, you did good, so what's there to worry about?”
Frustration crept into Shetland's voice. She'd repeated this argument in her own head over and over on her way home and therefore knew exactly how to respond. “But everything I did was the exact same as every other time!”
“Maybe you DID do something different and you didn't realize it. Maybe they look for something we don't know yet.”
Shetland groaned. “Oh, that would just be perfect! How am I supposed to do it right if I don't know what I'm even supposed to do?”
“You're getting off-track, Shetty,” Ciloa calmly said. “Good means good and if he said that, it should be enough.”
Shetland let out a long sigh and some of her frustration dissipated. She suddenly noticed that Ciloa’s magic was holding a frantically scribbling pen, checking off boxes on a large list. “What are you doing?”
“Just checking if I packed everything for the trip.”
“For Horizon?” Shetland asked incredulously. “But that’s still two months away!”
“Which gives me two months for check-ups. I can't exactly come back for anything, Shetty!” She crossed out a few sections before she floated the list closer, blinking a few times. “Oh, dear, I checked those wrong… Could you look if my sunglasses are in the case?”
Shrugging, Shetland stepped close, looking into the great mess inside the case… no wonder Ciloa wanted two months of checkups, orderly packing seemed like a foreign concept to her. Rummaging through the chaos, she found the fragile glasses under a dangerously heavy book. “You seriously need to repack this, you were lucky they weren't crushed by your…” She glanced at the book. “...photo album. Why are you bringing a photo album?”
“Aren't you bringing your own?” Ciloa asked, regarding the book with a fond smile. “Like I said, I won't be able to visit my family for a long while. It's good to have a reminder. You can look at it, by the way.” She added, snickering at the curious look Shetland had thrown at the book.
Shetland wasn't sure what she had expected, but this was probably it. From all pages shone the smiling heads of Ciloa's extensive family, both earth ponies and changelings in groups of two or more, in a big hug or riding on the back of a large alligator. How they tamed these beasts was beyond her, the Pie's protective aura certainly did not extend to her. What they dubbed “lovebites” Shetland simply called “lethal.” Still, her attention was caught by two changelings, the young Ciloa with her mother setting a small alligator baby on her daughter's face, concealing all but her massive grin, mirroring her parents’. It brought a smile to Shetland's face, albeit a smaller one.
Ciloa observed Shetland with deep blue eyes, reaching up to place a hoof on her shoulder. “I don't think I've ever seen photos of you with your family… outside of the occasional newspaper twice a year.”
Shetland shrugged, shaking off her friend's hoof. “My family is made of two, there's not that much to see, Ciloa. Not like your huge family.” She said wistfully, then forced her eyes away, flipping through the pages, not allowing herself to get stuck on a single picture.
“But you have some, right?” Ciloa said, unwilling to give up. “I'd like to see them. There's gotta be a lot of happy memories.”
“Not as many as yours, Cily.” Shetland chuckled, weighing the tome in her hooves.
“All the more to cherish.” Ciloa poked her hoof in Shetlands side. “Just show me the album, you big mope!”
It took longer than Shetland herself expected to find her own album, stuffed in an old saddlebag for whatever reason she failed to remember. It wasn't even half the size of Ciloa's, and of that, a good chunk of the pages were empty. None of that, however, quelled her friend's enthusiasm as she flipped through the pages.
“How old were you in this one?” She asked, pointing at a photo of Shetland hoofwrestling a bearded stallion the same size as her, a look of concentration on her face while his was basked in sweat.
“Fourteen. I was competing against my sports teacher. I won.” she added with a smirk.
“Wow… were you ever not a bulwark of a pony?”
“You'd have to look back to the baby pictures for that.” Shetland said, wisely bringing her hoof down on the page to prevent Ciloa from doing exactly that. As Ciloa flipped the pages forward, Shetland looked away. She knew what she would see: times she spent with her mother, happy, careless, times she didn't want to remember. It would just make their current dispute seem even worse…
She wanted to tell Ciloa to stop. The changelings occasional giggles and giddy “awws” piercing her mind, drawing forward unwanted images she tried to ignore. It was easier to oppose somepony if you could pretend to hate them, and Ciloa was making that really difficult right now.
“Shetland!” Ciloa poked her shoulder, gaining her attention. She pointed down at the last filled page of the book, where there was only one picture. With a queasy feeling in her stomach, Shetland looked at herself and her best friend Press… when he had been more than that, looking as though they were conjoined at their lips.
“What is this?” Ciloa asked, staring down at the picture with her eyes narrowed into tiny slits.
“It’s nothing!” Shetland spurted out. “N-not anymore. Look, that was a long time ago, and even back then we realized we worked better as just friends!”
“But why didn't you tell me? When did that happen?” Ciloa burst out.
“Last year. After my graduation.” Shetland muttered before she picked up her voice. “There's nothing going on between me and him anymore, Cily, we're both happier being just friends.”
Ciloa looked down at the photo and to Shetland’s surprise, her expression changed to a foxy smirk. “If you really don't mind me getting him,” she asked. “Then as his ex-marefriend you can surely give me some pointers, right?”
Astonished, Shetland agreed before she could even think. But when Ciloa snapped the photo album shut and went back to her packing list, Shetland decided that she’d been annoyed at her best friends constantly prancing around each other anyway. There couldn't be any harm in helping them finally get together, right?
At first it was nice, if awkward, to speak of her old, albeit short, relationship. It had never gotten anywhere serious, for one or two months they had simply shared the occasional evening, maybe disregarded personal space on the couch and kissed a few times before it was all ended after one drunken night. Ciloa, however, soaked it all up like a sponge, interspersing questions, like what else they enjoyed together or why Shetland thought it didn’t work out. Most of the time, Shetland had to simply shrug. As time went on, Ciloa's questions became more random. One morning, three days after Shetland’s consent, she had asked whether Press liked coffee with or without milk. Befuddled, the sleepy earth pony had ignored her, causing Ciloa to act grouchy for the rest of the morning.
Unfortunately, she wasn't satisfied with that and kept pecking Shetland for advice. And to her endless frustration, Ciloa wouldn’t consider her solution to the problem, which was, admittedly, straightforward.
“Cily, you just pull him somewhere private and kiss him.” she had said, interrupting Ciloa as she had approached Shetland, another question on her tongue.
The changeling had shaken her head in disbelief. “Don't you know anything about dating, Shetty? I-I can't just do that, he'd freak out!”
“I think I would know better, after all, I'm the one who dated him!” Shetland shouted as her patience wore out. One look at Ciloa's outraged expression as the changeling struggled for words made her realize she’d said the wrong thing. Swallowing her own annoyance, she tried to fix the situation.
“I'm sure it would work!” she exclaimed hastily.
“Like last time in the club? That was a catastrophe, and he was drunk back then!” Ciloa growled.
“It was because you were drunk!” Shetland corrected. “If you had been sober he would've been fine with anything you wanted, probably!”
Ciloa’s eyes narrowed and her voice dripped poison. “Are you speaking from experience?” she loomed, the very idea making her bare her teeth.
Right then, Shetlands patience snapped a second time. “TO TARTARUS WITH THIS!” She screamed, throwing the door open. Looking back, she glared at her friend. “I'll speak with you again when you're back to normal!” With that, she had thrown the door closed and left for the gym, aiming to muffle her anger by throwing herself into the exercises. But while her mind usually blanked from the exertion when she sprinted, hauled weights, or bucked a sturdy wall, she found herself unable to come to peace today. The true worst part about her friend's sudden fixation was that it prevented her from speaking about her own issues. Ciloa would just brush them off.
“We've talked about it before, you shouldn’t worry anymore. Good is good, however you twist it.” she'd said, unwilling to indulge Shetland’s uncertainty further. Yet every day Shetland found herself roused from bed early, nervously checking the mailbox several times a day, as if trying to will the Sergeant's response into existence. She knew she should just relax, but telling that to herself wasn’t enough and Ciloa had grown tired from reassuring her daily, instead opting to change the topic. To the only topic she was willing to talk about these days. All put together, it made the waiting time a grueling task which induced a constant sense of unrest in Shetland. Yet there was nothing she could do, there was no speeding it up, no trick to better her results, no…
Shetland bit her lips. There was one way. And surely, if she asked, nicely asked, then - then she wouldn't say no, right? No matter what Twilight thought herself?
This evening, Shetland sat on her couch. Ciloa had gone to bed after Shetland had lividly told her that she wouldn't set up a meeting between her and Press, she could easily do it herself. Even now she was peeved, which didn't help her current undertaking. Staring at a paper, blank except for two words.
Dear Mom,
The work of almost twenty minutes, Shetland grumbled, grinding her teeth, feeding her restlessness. It was supposed to be so easy! Friendly greeting, ask for help, say please like a nice filly and then direct her to the ponies to send her letters of recommendation to! Easy as pie! Shetland snorted. If only. How do you write to somepony who's argued with you for years, who withheld her support so far and constantly used every opportunity to try and change your mind when she should have been helping you!? How do you ask a pony like this for help, especially if she's family? With a sigh, Shetland slumped back into the couch. “Definitely not like this,” she muttered, feeling like she'd lost a long-fought battle. There was no way she could write this letter, not with the hot anger building up in her stomach. She shot a look out the window, to the cold night sky. Some fresh air could help, she thought, going out on the empty street. The cold breeze was refreshing, and Shetland couldn’t shake off a sense of relief as her brain relished in the break from trying to formulate an impossible letter. With a deep breath, she looked up into the sky. How it had always fascinated her. Twilight and her used to stargaze every night. Her mother would point out formations, trying to teach her their names, while Shetland imagined how they must look up-close, what worlds they might be circling and how they would differ from Equs. Twilight had always encouraged her wish to visit the stars, until…
It had been so straightforward. Shetland wasn’t the most curious or studious of ponies and to her mother's disappointment, the sciences simply bored her. And so, unwilling to study, she had sought for a different occupation. Then she had found the poster: Voidmarines, the military presence on Horizon, yet so much more faceted. She would be tasked with defending the colony if needed, keeping order, policing and in some of the smaller settlements even act as a sort of sheriff. It seemed perfect for her, a place where her gigantism wouldn’t be a hindrance, but a boon, and where things she already enjoyed like working out, shooting and occasionally glowering at smaller ponies would be required! Even her cutie mark might be relevant as not only would explosives be in her arsenal, but Voidmarines frequently got to observe and partake in excavations due to their skills! It had seemed to her younger self that the stars had aligned and granted her a revelation.
Until she told her mother. Twilight, the mare she had previously entrusted with anything, who, even if strained for time, always had her back. Shetland vividly remembered her reaction, her horrified look and sudden anger when she had screamed at the shocked filly, threatening punishment… and the next day, when she had apologized.
“It's your decision and I can't stop you,” Twilight had said, a deep frown around those deep purple eyes that seemed unable to meet Shetland's. Even after her shock at her parent's reaction, Shetland had assumed Twilight would go back to normal and so she'd enlisted in military school at the age of fifteen. Yet since then, the unconditional support she always thought she could count on had vanished and her mother never listened when she brought up her school, always turned away when she talked about the lessons and never engaged in anything at all related to it. Arguments got more frequent and Shetland even realized that her mother had gotten noticeably more “busy” since then. It all culminated when Shetland, after a drawn out argument, reached out to her friends and Ciloa offered to become roommates. Yet, even driven from her home, she had always believed that her mother would eventually come around and accept her decision. Until last year, at her graduation, when she did the unthinkable.
She ignored it.
Twilight Sparkle, the pony obsessed with any kind of knowledge and learning had ignored her own daughter's graduation. And that was the mare Shetland had just considered asking for help to pursue the career Twilight despised so much. It was pointless, Shetland decided, internally scrapping all ideas for the letter. Her mother wouldn't help, she had to rely on herself, and herself alone…
Behind a brightly glowing window she could make out the silhouette of Ciloa, up in their room. She wasn't much help right now either, was she? With her annoying obsession for their friend, and her constant prodding into a past relationship that as far as Shetland was concerned was never real. Shetland had needed comfort after her mother's betrayal at the graduation and Press was willing to offer, that's all it ever was, other than increasing awkwardness with every day!
It's all catching up to me, Shetland thought, glaring up at Ciloa's contour, anger flaring up in her stomach. The arguments, the resulting mistakes she made, the innocent misstep of showing her friend a damn photo-album, all of it was coming back to screw her back at the worst of times! Worst of all, it made Shetland even more anxious about the impending results: it was her chance to get away from all this.
The sudden noise of metal and wood scraping startled Shetland out of her thoughts. It seemed Ciloa hadn't been inactive behind the window, she'd been watching her, and right now, she was looking down at her friend in concern. “Shetty,” she asked. “Is something wrong?”
What a stupid question, Shetland thought. But then, what else would she say, not knowing she was part of the problem?
“No,” Shetland grunted. “Everything's fine.”
“So she was trying to help!” Press said the next morning as he peeled himself from his workout bench, setting his dumbbells on the ground. He wiped his soggy mane out of his face and looked Shetland in the eyes. “You're just being an all-negative big grump again.”
“That was one moment in three days!” She grumbled. “You're reading too much in one question when she's been nothing but annoying every other moment.”
“You're just stressed, that's all. Over nothing, I might add.” He whisked his towel away, letting her adjust the bench and weights. She laid down, balancing a barbell on her hooves, laden with almost twice the weight Press managed. “Showoff.” He quipped and shook his head, yet he could not hide his smile. “Okay, I'll count to twenty.”
“One, Two, Three…”
Shetland grinned as her muscles strained against the weights. She had rushed over as soon as she woke up after Ciloa told her Press wanted to meet her there. While missing breakfast sucked, and her stomach loudly protested, she cheerfully sacrificed it for the chance to meet her friend. His presence, calm and casual, was a blessing for her nerves.
“Twelve…”
Shetland puffed, pressing the barbell up once again, her grin starting to strain, but she was far from done.
“Thirteen…”
Press was awesome, Shetland decided this morning. The friend who actually listened to her worries (or fussing, as he called it), did not attempt to change the topic or criticise her, some kidding aside. He simply listened while Shetland marveled as his calming aura dissolved the tension in her.
“Seventeen, Eighteen…”
Except for the tension in her hooves, which seriously started to hurt now. “Only two more,” Shetland muttered, resting the barbell in the safety rack for a second before mustering her strength for a final push.
“Nineteen.”
Only one more! Shetland huffed, the thought exhilarating her.
“Nineteen.”
Wait, What? Did she mishear him? Forcing her leg, she managed another push-
“Nineteen…”
HE WAS DOING IT ON PURPOSE! Shetland raged internally. His face was out of view for her, but she'd have sworn he had a massive ugly grin. No matter, she would keep pushing until he ran out of breath counting!
“Nineteen…”
DAMN HIM! He didn't even try to hide his chuckle. Sweat poured down from Shetland's flaming red face. But damn him even more if she gave up!
“Aaand twenty, you can set down now.”
Relieved, she put the weight down on the rack, sliding out and fixating Press with a fierce glare that would make most ponies take a step back. “Really funny, you ass.”
Unfortunately, Press wasn't most ponies and knew her too well to be intimidated. “I figured you'd manage a little more.” He said with a grin. “And I was right. I just know you too well. That’s how I also know you're only annoyed with Cily because the timing's bad.”
“Says you. '’ I'd find it annoying at any time!” She responded, irritated.
“All she's asking for is dating advice, how bad can it be?”
“You have no idea! Also, how about you just ask her out? That way she'll be off my back!”
Press flushed and his voice stuttered.. “I-I don't know…”
“She'll say yes!” Shetland exclaimed in exasperation. “I told you she wants it, now you do your part and get her off my back!”
Unfortunately, he didn't seem to share her enthusiasm, nervously shifting on his hooves. “Y-you wouldn't happen to have a tip how I could score an extra point, just to be sure...”
“Buy her food!” Shetland said gruffly.
“Oh, that would work for you, huh?” He chuckled, regaining some of his calmness.
Shetland denied him an answer.
“I know it does. It did.” he said, the corners of his mouth finding new widths to pull themselves to.
“S-Shut up.” Shetland said. Yet even she had to smile as her stomach let out a mighty grumble.
Press laughed. “Alright, sounds like an emergency. How about I get us some hayfries from Green Hoof?” A weightless barbell caught in his magic pointed at a shop across the street.
“I guess…” Shetland said, trying to cover up for her starving belly.
“Do you want something or not?” Press asked slowly, and from his massive grin, he clearly knew the answer.
“YES! Please, alright? Please bring me something to eat, I'm starving!” Shetland moaned, giving in to her fate, even as she rolled her eyes.
“Alright, one portion for me and three for you, then…”
“Yeah, you get two, and then another two. This is good for you!” Press chuckled, counting out his bits.
Shetland stayed silent for a moment, digesting the annoyingly accurate truth. So what, maybe she just liked to eat! She wasn't fat, that's what she was in the gym for! She looked self-consciously in the mirror, which elicited another chuckle from her friend. She wasn't fat…
“A bag of crickets too, please.” She whispered against her own will.
Damnit!
“Oh, by the way…” Press said as if he just remembered, yet his massive grin betrayed that he had barely been holding back on telling her. “I'm in!”
For a few seconds, Shetland was puzzled. “In what?” She asked blankly. Then it dawned upon her. “You mean- the job? You have-”
“Yep!” He exclaimed, his grin as massive as her surprise. “And I think they sent all the letters at once, so…”
Shetlands jaw dropped. In her haste to meet her friend, she had even forgotten to check her mail for the first time since the test. “Why didn't you tell me earlier?”
“Because I know you'd have skipped on everything to get your grubby little hooves on the letter ASAP.” He winked knowingly. “I'll meet you at your home with the grub. Good luck, but if I got in, your place is practically guaranteed!”
But Shetland was already gone, racing past everything on the street and only muttering a quick greeting to Ciloa on her arrival as she practically ripped open the mailbox, and there it was! An official-looking letter with five seals, of the three princesses, the queen and the Royal Guard. “This is it,” Shetland told herself as she carefully opened the letter as if it was something fragile that could break from the lightest touch. Her throat was dry and it felt like all her body's water was amassing as sweat on her forehead. She unrolled the paper with trembling hooves.
Dear Ms. Sparkle.
Our thanks go out to your dedication and interest. We are deeply sorry that we cannot bear you good news, however. After extensive examination, we have decided upon a different candidate. We thank you for the troubles you went through in your application and wish you luck for your future endeavors.
It was like a bucket of ice water was flooding through her veins. Her intestines felt uncomfortably stiff and heavy as her eyes focused on the letter once again. This was it, she realized, deaf to Ciloa, who was summoned by the ringing doorbell. This had been her chance. Wasted, left behind, thrown away, unfulfilled. A physical representation of a denied future. She focused back on the words, reading them again and again, the greetings, the address, even the blank flipside, trying to find something more, a hidden meaning, SOMETHING. Yet all it did was spark anger for every word she read. This letter determined her future, the fulfillment of her dreams, and all the writer managed was a basic no and an excuse lacking any information or substance? No reason, no explanation for why she’d been denied the efforts of weeks? Months? Why she’d have to wait a year for her next opportunity? But no, she realized. With Ciloa gone, she would have to move out, which meant she needed to find a new home long after the season of sales had ended with only a month's time to find a place to stay, or… or move back in with her mother.
Her hooves trembled as she glared down at the paper, this simple piece of paper that denied her dream for years, if not forever and wouldn't even tell her why. It made her feel sick.
Her ear picked up a shrill giggle, just before Ciloa bounced into the room. “Shetty, Press is here, you gotta help…” Her voice died off as she saw Shetlands trembling hoof. “W-what happened?” She asked and gasped when she saw the tears well in her friend’s eyes. Ciloa blanched. “No… they couldn't have.”
“They did!” Shetland said, wiping her eyes with a hoof. “I'm out. And that's it, that's all it says.”
Ciloa's magic tugged at the letter and reluctantly, Shetland let go of it. The changeling's eyes quickly traced the letters. “There has to be something… PRESS, COME OVER HERE!”
Entering with a steaming bag full of hayfries, his smile quickly died as he looked from Shetland to the letter. “Oh, shit,” he whispered, reading over Ciloa’s shoulder. “This can't be right!” he exclaimed, grabbing the envelope and checking the address. “Maybe they switched up our letters and we didn't notice!”
Shetland shook her head and said in a dreadfully flat voice “It says Dear Ms. Sparkle at the beginning, Press.”
“But…” Press struggled to wrap his head around it. “It can't be right,” Hh decided. “There's no way they would have me over you. I'm decent but you are… you! You excelled at everything!”
Shetland hiccuped and bit her lip to suppress new tears from welling up. If the situation had been different and Ciloa wasn’t there, she might have wanted to kiss him right now. Hearing him upset over her exclusion, even if it was to his own benefit, almost made it seem okay again. Yet, as it was, even his support could do little to change the facts. That for some unknown, stupid reason, she was denied what her friends had gotten. She felt anger seethe in her chest. What she wanted was answers. If she couldn't have her dream, at least she wanted to know why.
“Press, I don't want you to come with me.” she said, taking the letter from his magical grip.
“Where are you going?” He stood up, standing in the doorway, but instinctively backed away from her larger form.
“I'll get answers,” she simply said and checked the sender's address. “And he better have a good one.”
His eyes widened. “You can't do that!” he spurted out. “It'll come back to bite you!”
“So?” Shetland grumbled. “What do I have to lose still?” And with these words she left the apartment.
The streets of Canterlot were as full as any day, but Shetland's seething look paired with her sheer size was enough to clear her path as ponies jumped out of her way. But even as she picked up speed, every step seemed to taunt her with how long it took. “Calm.” she whispered through clenched teeth. As much as she would like to rampage straight towards the old pegasus, losing control like that would have repercussions, possibly denying her chances forever. Mentally, she pictured grabbing all her rage and pushing it into a little, hot, glowing ball and pushing it into her belly, where it burned and… and the metaphor wasn't helping at all, she acknowledged in exasperation. There was no more time, anyway.
She had arrived at a white stone building not too far from where the tests had been conducted. Judging from the utter lack of weapons, machinery or training, it was purely an administrative area. A perfect, comfortable place for the aging Sergeant, she thought disdainfully. She pressed her eyes closed for a couple seconds. “Calm.” hhe warned herself once again before she entered.
A little stallion at the information desk stared at the sudden entrance of a pony rivaling the size of an alicorn, his jaw dropping. He became even more decomposed when she looked down on him. He seemed to shrink in his seat and needed a moment to gather himself back up.
“I want to speak with Whistle White.” she said, her voice sounding strained from the effort to keep it levelled.
“S-sure,” The stallion squeaked. “I-I could make an appointment-”
“I would appreciate it,” she interrupted him. “If I could talk to him now.”
The stallion swallowed and Shetland took a step back, letting him take a deep breath and ease some tension. “Uh, I think he might be on his break right now, actually. I can't guarantee for anything but I could call him and ask if he'd give you the time.”
“Great. Tell him Miss Sparkle wants to speak with him.”
His eyes grew the size of dinner plates as he looked up and down her form again. “Y-you are-”
“Do it now, please.”
“Certainly!” he squeaked. “Please take a seat, I-I'm sure he'll want to see you.”
I doubt that, Shetland thought as she sat down on the bench. It creaked under her weight.
True to the stallion's word, Whistle arrived only a few minutes later. “Welcome, Miss Sparkle,” he greeted her, displaying a smile. “May I ask what you wish from me?”
Shetland narrowed her eyes and stood up from the bench, so she towered over the pegasus. He maintained his smile, although it started to crack. “I think you might know, Sir,” Shetland said. “I've received your letter this morning, and I would like to ask a few questions.” she faked a smile just as his faltered. Whistle grumbled.
“If you must, Miss Sparkle, but I'd prefer to speak of this in the privacy of my office.” With that, he briskly turned around, passed the stairs, and went for the elevator. He'll regret it, Shetland thought, hiding a wicked grin. She found these boxes tight by herself.
After their arrival, Whistle closed the door of his office. It was a nicely furnitured room with a high ceiling for the pegasus, but Shetland’s eyes were fixated solely on him as he stepped in the middle of the room.
“I shouldn't have let the queen convince me to say anything, Miss Sparkle,” he grumbled. “It led you to develop expectations. This is exactly why we keep our quiet.”
So you don't have to explain anything? Somehow, despite his words rekindling her temper, she managed to not say them out loud. Instead, she summoned a friendly, conversational voice. “Be that as it may, Sir,” she picked her words carefully, though the effort became apparent in her voice's quavering. “I am still curious as to what caused my exclusion. You said my results were good, if not great and yet I failed several times. I have no idea what caused that to happen and I need to know!”
Whistle sighed, looking conflicted as he poked the ground with a hoof. But just as Shetland dared to hope, his expression darkened. “I'm afraid I cannot do that, Miss. I have made one exception and one alone, for the queen. I won’t repeat this mistake.”
Shetland felt like her teeth might crack under the pressure she was putting them under. She felt blood shoot into her face like liquid flames. “So this is it!” She raised her voice and closed the distance, glowering straight down at him. He seemed shocked and took a startled step back but she didn’t care. “I spend a year of my life training, applying, going to tests and interviews and more tests, I wait weeks for you to get off your flanks and just look at my efforts and all I get is a stingy letter saying: Nope, better luck next time! With not even ten minutes time spent on giving me a reason or telling me why I just wasted a WHOLE YEAR?” She was screaming the last part, noting with satisfaction that the pegasus winced in pain as his crippled wing flared open following his flight instinct. But his fright was quickly replaced by anger, and his pale, bone-colored face adopted a glowing red tone.
“You're in no place to critique our management, Miss Sparkle!” He said grimly. “THIS is the reason we don't share unnecessary information with candidates. I won't make another exception.”
“I don't think my mother will be pleased when I tell her you wouldn't give her daughter some simple advice.” Shetland said coldly, glaring at the pegasus, watching him closely as color drained from his face once more. She had lost control for one moment, she hadn't wanted to say this. It had only been in the back of her mind, an option when everything else failed. She knew he cowered before ponies of higher rank, bent and broke rules for them, but would her invoking somepony else's title be impressive enough to him? Her shouting might be excusable, given the circumstances, but this was dangerously close, if not an outright threat! Only a last resort… but had she not tried every other option? Either way, there was no taking it back now.
It did have quite an effect on Whistle. He took another step back and his eyes darted to his desk. “But… it makes no sense, if she wasn't opposed, why would she-” He bit his lip, stopping himself and staring back to the hulking mare. Shetland's mind blanked.
“What was that supposed to mean?” She asked coldly, taking a step towards him. She didn't care anymore if she looked threatening. Heck, she might actually be!
“Nothing, nothing!” Sensing the change in the atmosphere, Whistle backed off further.
“Really?” Shetland growled. “Because it sounded like you were making assumptions about my mother's attitude towards this job.”
His back hit his desk. “I-I-It's nothing like that, Miss Sparkle-”
“THEN WHAT DID YOU MEAN?” Shetland screamed, glaring at him as if he would melt if she stared hard enough.
“W-we,” he stammered. “We sent your mother l-letters!” he squeaked under her angry scowl. “It's a standard procedure, we hope to find out about family issues t-to note if we have to give recruits more opportunities to build comradery.”
“I know of that.” Shetland hissed. “But you're not allowed to exclude any recruits for that reason. Is that what happened? My mom talked shit about me behind my back?”
“No! She- she never answered us at all!” he said, regaining a bit of courage. “And you'd be better advised to not talk badly about her!”
“YOU WOULD BE ADVISED TO FOLLOW YOUR OWN RULES!” Shetland shouted in his face. “This is the reason, right? Just because she didn't say anything? It's illegal to exclude me for that.”
“W-we…” he stammered, his resistance blown away once more. “It's not as you claim, we simply found it lowered our overall impression to a degree that another candidate-”
“You disgust me.” Shetland said spitefully as she turned to leave the pathetic flankkisser behind. He might mark it in her file, get her excluded forever, but she didn't care. She had her answers. Why she failed. And why she would have never succeeded either way. It seemed so obvious now, she thought as she stomped to the train station. If all the ponies who decided on the recruits were like Whistle, and considering the results, it seemed very likely, they wouldn't do anything that could upset “Princess Twilight.”
The ticket salespony looked aghast at the mocking tone Shetland had said the words with, but a dark look was enough to silence her protests.
It had never made the headlines of the Fine Print, Twilight had sought to that, but the quarrel between the Sparkles was far from a secret. If these cowards had done any research, which they surely did after Twilight's lack of a response, they would have surely stumbled upon THAT piece of information, and from then on, Shetland's chances were zilch. Because those doddering cowards wouldn't want to touch on a princess's family quarrel and rules be damned!
Fuming like this, Shetland didn’t even notice ponies backing away and in some cases even out of her train section. Maybe for the better, as some of the things she said in her ranting weren't for innocent ears.
She cursed as she was momentarily blinded. Covering her sore eyes, she glared at the offending crystal tree which reflected the midday sun into the eyes of everypony trying to do their business in the town. The thought of having to move back in loomed over her as she weaved her way towards it. She'd been so glad to leave this place last year, but things just had a way of coming around it seemed. As much as she had wanted to avoid this confrontation, circumstances forced her to it anyway, like a big, cuntish circle…
Shetland stopped at the castle's doorstep, her ears peaking as they picked up several bickering voices from inside. She placed her ear at the door and barely caught herself from falling as it swung open and now the voices swept from across the room, crystal clear into her ears.
“-no such thing!” Twilight declared with an uncharacteristic absoluteness in her voice. Shetland followed the voices to a side room, freezing as Press's voice came clearly from the door. Overcome by bewilderment, she opened the door, peeking through a narrow crack where she saw her friend shake his head.
“I know Shetland, I train with her every week. And… her results outclass mine by far, there is simply no way I passed and she didn't.”
Opening the door a little further, Shetland catched a glimpse of Ciloa, who awkwardly waddled on her hooves and… Twilight, whose expression was as unreadable as a book in pitch-dark blackness.
“Those are all merely assumptions.” Twilight said, declared. “And, forgive me, but your judgement in this matter is clouded.”
“And yours isn't?!”
Astonished by her hypocrisy, Shetland had been taken aback, long enough for Ciloa to preempt her outrage. Twilight whirled around, hot blood shooting in her face. “What do you mean?” she asked coldly.
“We…” Ciloa swallowed, her anger fizzling out momentarily. After a short pause, she attempted the sentence again. “We, that is, me and Press, we don’t think… we don't think Shetland could lose in any fair test.”
“Are you accusing me of SABOTAGING MY OWN DAUGHTER?” Twilight said, every word increasing in volume until she was screaming at the top of her lungs, the last scraps of calmness falling off of her like a used-up mask.
“No, Twilight-” Ciloa squeaked, but faltered under the alicorn's gaze. “P-princess Sparkle-”
“THEY WOULD BE RIGHT!” Shetland shouted back. She hadn't planned this entrance, her body had simply acted on its own, throwing the door open so that it slammed into the wall, straining its hinges.
All eyes in the room turned to her, filled with surprise and in Ciloa's and Press's case, with hope.
“Shetland-” Twilight said, her voice faltering. “This is false, I have never acted against you. I would never.” she said fervently. “Despite what your friends may think!” She pointed an accusatory hoof at Ciloa, who recoiled, narrowly avoiding it striking her nose.
“Get away from her.” Shetland hissed. “You didn't have to do anything. Your lack of action was enough. You just couldn't even pretend to support me, huh?”
Twilight froze, her mouth ajar. “What are you talking about?” she asked, bewildered.
“The letter. They sent you a letter. You didn't respond. That was enough.” Shetland said grimly.
“The- letter?” Twilight stuttered, taken aback. “The letter is just a formality.” Behind her Press gasped, shortly followed by Ciloa. They looked from mother to daughter.
“For anyone else!” Shetland pressed through her teeth. “But do you have any idea what ponies conduct the tests? They’re all old flankkissing morons! Remember how Whistle treaded around me when he needed to know about my father and instead asked you? ALL OF THEM ARE LIKE THIS! And that's why you don't need to lift a hoof to block my way. Being your daughter…” Shetland took a deep breath. “It does that by itself.”
“Shetty…” Twilight whispered, distress filling her voice as her shoulders sagged and her wings hung limply from her sides.
“You'll have a full year.” Shetland met her eyes with a glare. “A year where you can do the same as always: push me into what you want me to be, just like the ones you had before me, huh? Midnight, the great scientist and Smarty pants, genius inventor or Spike, the-
“No.” Twilight cut her off, flaring her wings. Yet, instead of anger, her eyes merely displayed sadness. “That's not what I wanted. I don't care what you want to do, I only wanted you to be safe.”
She looked in Shetland’s eyes with a sincerity that she couldn’t break away from. “I meant what I said. I cannot with good conscience support your goal, but I would never, never, try to hurt you. As it appears however,” She said with a great sigh. “I have inadvertently done so. I apologize.”
“So…” Shetland muttered, unable to muster any anger as Twilight finally gave in. But neither did she feel any satisfaction. “You will help me next year?”
“No.” Twilight said, drawing the shocked looks from Shetland, Press and Ciloa. Her eyes grew steely “I said I don't want to hurt you and I could do nothing worse than separating you from your friends. They will both be leaving the planet on the same ship?”
“Yes.” They hurried to confirm.
“Y-Your Highness.” Ciloa added with a cautious glimpse to the alicorn.
“Then I promise, she will come with you. I will see to that.”
The room was in stunned silence for a heartbeat, before Shetland’s friends exploded in congratulations, running up to embrace the stunned earth pony.
Pushing away their exuberant hug, Shetland sought her mother's eyes one last time, licking her dry lips.
“Thank you.” She said, feeling as if a weight was lifted as these words left her mouth.
Twilight’s eyes however, exuded no happiness. “I just hope I'm doing the right thing,” she said, then, with a smile that almost reached her eyes, “You should celebrate with your friends.”
Weirdly enough, her friends seemed almost more happy at this development than she was herself, all sporting a grin up to the ears, and so it took several minutes until Shetland managed to calm them down enough for her to start asking questions.
“Why were you here?” She asked when Ciloa finally stopped bouncing.
“Well, you kinda brushed past us.” Ciloa said, ceasing her giggles for a moment of sobriety. “I wasn’t sure where you´d go and I asked Press and he said-”
Press’s hoof laid on her shoulder. “I said we got to help you any way we can. And so we did the first thing we can think of, ask Twilight to investigate this or… give my place to you. It… didn't go well, though. Until you showed up.” He looked down at where the floor should have been, but instead gazed at Shetlands hoof. She pushed his chin up until he looked in her eyes.
“I heard you before, Press. C'mon, how many ponies can say they've stood up to a demigod for the sake of their friends? And also, you actually wanted me to take your place? I mean, wow, awesome, but I couldn't accept that!”
“You should have, though.” he replied. “I have a place here if it didn't work out for me, you would have had to live here again! You had more to lose than me.”
Shetland shook her head, glimpsing at Ciloa. Press followed her look. His mouth opened, but no words escaped him.
“Ask her out.”
He sputtered. “W-WHAT?”
“Ask her out.” Shetland repeated sternly.
“I-I can't, j-just like that-”
“Do it or I'll lock you two in a drawer until you're making out.”
“Y-you wouldn’t!” he said shakily.
“Try me.”
He swallowed and turned. “Uhm… Ciloa?”
“Yes?” she asked innocently, although Shetland was fairly certain she'd heard everything.
He took a step closer. “Uhm… would you like to, I mean... “ He cast a help-seeking glimpse to Shetland. She gestured him to step closer.
“I mean,” he started again, sweating. His face was mere inches from hers. “Maybe we could, because of this, we… and Shetland, we could celebrate thi-HURG!”
His voice cut off as Shetland, finally losing her patience, grabbed both lovebirds and pushed their heads together. It might not have been the romantic moment they wanted, but it was certainly the first kiss they needed. Backing away from the couple, Shetland chuckled as Ciloa gasped for breath and exclaimed:
“Now this calls for a PAAAARTAY!”
Late at night, over several empty bottles of alcoholic beverages, Press sat next to Shetland on the bench before her house. “Ciloa is asleep.” he informed the taller mare.
“So we got a few moments of quiet.” Shetland chuckled.
They looked up into the night sky.
Press was the first to break the silence. “Are you sure your mom can twist this around for you again? Does… she really want to? She didn't seem very keen on it”
“I don't doubt it.” Shetland replied. “She may be a know-it-all and be stuck on her own view sometimes, but at least she's honest. If she says she's gonna do it, she's gonna do it.”
“Well, how is she gonna do it?” Press interjected. “The letters have all gone out this morning-”
He groaned. “Yesterday morning, then. I can't imagine she will kick the other pony who's been chosen off so you can take their place.”
“Me neither.” Shetland admitted. “But my guess is that she'll simply make a third spot.”
“Can she really just do that?” He wondered.
“She's a princess. So that's probably a yes.” Shetland snorted. Then, after a long pause, she sighed.
“What's the matter?” Press asked.
“I dunno. It still kinda feels like… well, like I didn't really earn the spot, my mom just got it for me, right? I didn't get it from my own accomplishments.”
“Thats silly, Shetty.” He said as he craned his neck, once again looking at the stars. “You would have done it by yourself if it wasn't rigged against you.”
“I know.” She sighed. “Still doesn't feel like it.” He felt his hoof pat her back and met his eyes.
“You'll show them what you're worth.” Press grinned. “Give it two weeks and everypony's gonna admire your abilities.”
“Awww, Thanks, Press.” She chuckled. Then a shiver went through her. “Brrr, it's getting cold. We should get back inside.”
“Well!” He said and jumped on his hooves. “I better get home, now.”
She looked back, holding the door open. “Or… you could stay here.”
He blinked in confusion, before his eyes grew to the size of basketballs.
“She doesn't mind, believe me.” she assured him with a grin.
Flabbergasted, he looked up at the bedroom window, where Ciloa slept soundly in the lower bunk.
“As long as it's only sleeping...” Shetland trailed her voice off. “No other business. At least until we're all sober.” Chuckling to herself, she left the door open and went to her bed. Her grin grew even further when she heard a second pair of hooves before the door closed.
As weeks went by, Shetland found herself more and more impatient. To her dismay, her admittance to the program changed very little in her daily routine. Sure, she was practicing a little more diligently at the gym and joined Ciloa when she freaked out over her packing list, but mostly it was the same old routine. A few things did change, however. For one, her friends were now a couple, and made no secret of it. At first it had been nice, seeing them move on from making obvious advances only the other somehow managed to miss, to openly going on dates and making out, but the latter was slowly getting out of control for Shetland's taste. Other changes were harder to quantify. Ever since she had burst into her mother’s castle, she hasn't gotten a single letter from her and Shetland didn't know how to feel about that. Sure, Twilights weekly (sometimes even daily) letters rarely improved her day, but with them missing… it felt like another connection of a few remaining ones had been cut. Of course, her friends couldn't understand. When she'd brought it up with Ciloa, she'd simply told her to write to her mother herself.
“What would I even say?” Shetland had asked. “I'm not gonna apologize for anything. And a normal letter would just be awkward.”
“Maybe visit her before we leave.” Press had suggested calmly, which sounded sensible enough. Annoyingly. Maybe too annoyingly, as Shetland managed to find reason after reason to delay her visit until the final day, where she awoke with a guilty feeling in her stomach.
Maybe “awoke” wasn't the right term though, as she could not for the life of her remember falling asleep, the anticipation keeping her up most of, if not all night. Therefore she was still yawning heartily as she greeted Press in the train leading to the Appleloosan air base. Press managed to fall asleep on the ride. Shetland could only envy him as she glanced out into the countryside. The darkness of the yet-approaching dawn did not reveal much to her.
Upon their arrival, they were ushered onto an open field by a tired-looking royal guard. To tell the truth, airbase was a misleading name, it was simply adapted from one. No, this was a station for rockets and a landing platform for a small class of spaceship, those that were able to enter the atmosphere. They reminded her of bees, large, metal bees, but instead of rounded, their body parts were blocky. The three metal legs on each side only increased that impression. Shetland estimated each one could comfortably carry around four dozen ponies.
Press seemed less captivated by the spaceships, his tired eyes blankly looking around the landing sites, attempting to find something of interest so they would be easier to keep open. A loud yawn escaped his mouth, pulling Shetland back to the present.
“Do you know why they called us here so early?” he asked groggily.
“No.”
He let out a sigh. “Figures… any idea how long we'll be waiting?"
She shrugged. “No idea.”
“How about you wake me when someone's coming?” he suggested jokingly.
“How about you sniff a skunk?” Shetland suggested reasonably.
He opened his mouth to answer, but let out another long yawn. “I'm too tired to argue…”
Shetland hissed, causing him to snap to attention as she saw the guard arrive again, accompanying a unicorn stallion. Shetland narrowed her eyes, she could have sworn she'd seen him before, recognized his bright red fur…
“Crimson?” she asked unsurely.
“Shetland!” he called back, a grin forming on his face. He raised a hoof, surprising Shetland, but she quickly moved to bump it.
“Glad to be with a pony I know.” she said, returning his smile.
Crimson raised an eyebrow, looking past her. Shetland placed a hoof on her friend's shoulder. “This is Press, a good buddy. Press, this is Crimson, I met him in a bar.”
“Charmed.” Press said with a little nod of his head.
“Always good to know a friend of a friend.” Crimson said, his eyes shifting from him to Shetland.
“I'm sure we'll all become great friends when we're in action.” Shetland smiled down at them.
“Wait…” Crimson said, again looking from one to another. “He's in too? I thought there'd only be two of us.”
“Funny story…” Shetland slowly pronounced. “There's been some complications with my application.”
“With yours?” Crimson asked incredulously, looking up at her. “How come?”
“Well…” then she felt a poke on her shoulder, but as she looked behind her back, she found Press standing straight as a statue.
“I see you all managed to be here in time, tattletails.” A rasping mare’s voice sounded clearly from across the field, where a deep-blue pegasus approached with rigid steps. She wore a medal-adorned jacket, but it was the sight of her large, red tricorn hat that made Shetland snap to attention. If she’d learned one thing in boot camp, it was to respect a pony's hat!
“I am Void Waver, Captain of the Esseles.” she said, her trained voice easily invoking discipline in the tired trio. “As long as you're on board, my word is command. Understand?”
They nodded in unison. Her hat was very impressive.
“You will be brought on the ship early. We can't have you bumbling around, trying to figure out how to move in zero-gravity while we're trying to launch. I will not accept you standing in my crew's way. Understand?”
“Yes, Ma'am.” They sounded again, although this time Shetland fell a bit behind. Zero-gravity. She'd always wondered what that felt like.
“Now to you, big boy.” She said, ripping Shetland out of her daydreams.
“Ma'am, she's a mare.” Press corrected her meekly.
“Big girl.” Waver said, her eyes unmoving on Shetland. “My cousin is the acting Voidmarine where we're going. He's not happy about having to train up an extra newbie, ordered by the princess or not, so you better be crazy good and. Never. Talk back to him. Got it?”
“Yes.” Shetland said, looking sternly into the captain’s eyes.
“Good.” she said, stepping back from her and standing in front of all of them. “Our transport will be here shortly…” Her eyes rolled upwards and as she rose her head, Shetland could make out the edge of a clock in the brim of her hat.
“Ma'am?” Crimson asked. “Aren't we taking a ship?” His eyes wandered to the vehicles in plain view.
“What a waste that'd be.” Waver said. “What do you think this is, public transport? We're taking the cheapest and quickest way like everypony else. We'll teleport.” Raising her head, her glare softened as she recognized a group of four unicorns approaching.
“Good morning, sleepyheads!” she called with a grin. They mumbled a greeting back, taking positions around them as a soft glow came from their horns
Shetland mentally prepared herself. She'd teleported with her mother before, it probably wouldn’t be that different- . A flash from their horns blinded her and the next moment she felt… not light, rather as if a hook was pulling her innards upwards, except that she couldn’t tell which direction upwards was! They were floating in what looked like a pegasus foal’s playground, as every wall was covered by bright, yellow foam. Instinctively, her hooves searched for the ground, but the sudden movement caused her to suddenly surge up?-wards, into the soft surface from which she bounced off, still struggling to find something to hold onto. A loud “OUCH!” caused her to crane her neck (not helping her situation). Behind her, Crimson had hit his head on a bar protruding from the wall. In her tumbling, Shetland managed to make out more bars coming from every side. Her attempts to grasp one of them, however, were not met with success, as every attempt to get closer launched her in a seemingly random direction all over again. This chaos was accompanied by Void Waver's rumbling laughter. Annoyingly, she seemed to have no problem with the sudden change in gravity, using her wings to stabilize herself. Still flailing, Shetland was starting to feel dizzy as a light-blue aura halted her to a sudden stop. Looking down, for lack of a better word, Press had not panicked like Shetland and Crimson, and instead used his magic to anchor himself and now Shetland to a wall he deemed to be the “ground.” Despite her gratitude, Shetland could not avoid feeling a little jealous as she looked at his horn. Crimson merely seemed annoyed as he replicated his trick.
“Worth it every time to see some grounders flail around.” Waver chuckled. “Alright, ground rules!” she raised her voice back to the commanding tone, looking sternly at them. She struggled to maintain her sobriety however, as all three snapped to attention and promptly launched in all directions again. When they finally caught themselves a second time, Shetland felt a flicker of pride as she managed to catch a pole, the captain pierced them each with a glare, softened only by her own smile. “Stay still, shut up and listen!” she declared, to which they all nodded.
“Rule one, my order is law! I want no buts, no arguments. What I say, goes, no questions unless I ask for your opinion. Number two, you’ll stay out of my crew's way. No distracting or chatting with them either, you can do that in the kitchen.”
“There's a kitchen?” Crimson asked, surprised.
“There's a microwave if you like your canned food warm.” she said dryly.
“Oh…”
“Although we do make petitions for it every week. Pencil-pushers keep thinking we'd just make a mess.” Shaking her head, Waver pushed herself towards a hatch with her wings. “Don't touch anything you’re not allowed to and don’t go anywhere without one of the crew accompanying you. That should be it for rules. Get used to moving around for now, I’ll have somepony pick you up in a few.” With that, she opened the hatch, which led into a corridor, and closed it behind herself.
“Sooo… space!” Press exclaimed, grinning at Shetland. “How're you feeling?”
“Kinda sick, actually…” Shetland answered as she tried to figure out how to go in the direction she wanted.
“My sister said it's usually a little irritating at first.” Crimson said as he floated past her. Of course he had figured out moving from pole to pole quicker than her.
“Your sister?” Press asked, while Shetland’s face adopted a darkening shade of green.
“Mirror Light is an electrician in Horizon. I’m sure you'll like her if we get enough time off to visit her settlement.” With a look to Shetland, he added: “I think she mentioned there's a tube here somewhere if you need to, uh… defood.”
“No. no,” Shetland protested. “My stomach can take this.”
It could not.
Yet, when the vomiting ceased, she felt lighter, as if a rancid lump had left her stomach. The tube had surprised Shetland by having a moderate amount of suction. That did come in handy.
None of them knew exactly how much time had passed as the hatch opened and another pegasus mare came floating in. She was dark green, and held herself close to the hatch, as if fearing one of them could suddenly smack into her. “Hello, I'm Diesel.” She introduced herself, as the others did the same. “The captain told me to bring you on the ship and show you around.”
“We're not already on the ship?” Press asked.
“Oh, no, we're in the ESDY, the Equestrian Space Dockyard. The Esseles is docked here. Please just follow me.”
One by one, Shetland, Press and Crimson carefully nudged themselves through the hatch, following the waiting mare.
The corridors were exceptionally tight, every wall was either a compartment, or cluttered with computers and other sciency stuff Shetland couldn't identify. It quickly became apparent that while the others quickly floated through, Shetland had to slowly and carefully feel her way through to not smash into anything. A nervous feeling of claustrophobia settled in her.
Luckily, after a long, winding way during which they'd take a turn left, up, and right, they came out in a tube, easily large enough for a carriage to pass through. There were even longer poles here, and there were tracks at the right wall. A group of pegasi were pushing large crates along those lines. Shetland could only guess they were magnetic, keeping the cargo from floating off and hitting somepony.
“Oh, shoot,” Diesel muttered. “They're already loading up the ship. We should have been inside a little earlier. Don't worry.” She assured them as they all gave her a worried look. “As long as the captain doesn't notice, it'll be okay.”
They passed above the crates (the change in her perception of “up” still made Shetland a little dizzy) until they arrived at a huge window panel at which Diesel had to stop because her entourage was staring with their eyes wide open.
Beyond these windows was space. A neverending majestic nothingness in which thousands of stars flourished far away. And at the bottom of the window, they made out Equus, partially veiled by clouds, their planet was a beautiful sight to behold: a perfect, utterly unique pearl of, what Shetland began to grasp, billions more. Though that was only the background to a picture of a mighty ship, a behemoth of steel, easily 150 metres in length. It boggled Shetland's mind that something of that size had been constructed in space, from this station. It was sleek, relatively so, with a large, rectangular compartment hanging from the back end. Since all the pegasi were pushing the crates towards a tube connecting to that compartment, Shetland assumed it was the cargo space.
Diesel ushered them through a different tube into the middle part of the Esseles. The ship looked much cleaner from the inside, most walls just being walls. A wave of relief washed over Shetland. She’d have room to breathe after all!
The leading pegasus shut the door behind them as she held herself from yet another pole. The Esseles seemingly used the same system. “Welcome, passengers.” She said with a grin. “Your luggage will be put in the cargo, at the front. You can retrieve it at anytime, but weapons are off-limits on the ship. We wouldn't want one going off and hitting something vital.
“The captain had a pistol.” Press said, his eyebrow raised.
“That may be, but even she carries her ammunition separately.” Diesel said firmly and shrugged. “It is simply a standard procedure and if you want to argue, you have to speak with the captain.” Shooting a worried look in their direction, she quickly added: “Do not argue with the captain.”
“Noted.” Press chuckled.
Relieved, Diesel went on. “Our journey will presumably take around thirty hours. I will later notify you when you are free to roam around the ship, as long as you stay out of our working areas.”
Shetland grunted.
“Which is why captain Waver allowed me to show you around now.” Diesel said, summoning a cheerful voice together with a smile.
Despite being a little miffed about the restrictions, Shetland was also excited. Floating was already becoming easier, it felt now like swimming through the air, even though she still occasionally smacked into a wall.
Admittedly, not everything was miraculous and eye-opening. For one, Shetland would have preferred a written instruction on space toilets rather than Diesel’s monologue and, worst of all, stories. She was also peeved to learn that there were no showers, at least not in the regular sense. It seemed the only way to wash yourself was to catch the floating water in a towel and clean yourself that way. Press and Crimson saw no problems with that at first, until Shetland pointed out that she would need help reaching her back.
She shot down Crimson's offer for assistance. Charming or not, she knew Press better.
Last on the list, the tour led them to a room containing only an assortment of pillars of different size, each covered in complicated markings, emitting an icy glow. Press and Crimson gave it a confused look, shaking their heads as if to get rid of an annoying insect.
“Yep,” Diesel said, using a stern look to make sure they were staying out of the room. “This is our magic doodad, developed by Princess Twilight. Without that, we'd still be stuck in our solar system.”
Shetland, who was examining the markings, was surprised to find that everyone was looking at her. “What?”
“Well, your mom invented this.” Press suggested reasonably: “Did she ever explain it?”
Narrowing her eyes, Shetland glared at him and poked a hoof on her barren forehead. “Even if she did, how would I understand her magic babbling?” she groaned. “It has something to do about going faster without going faster and teleportation and I can't tell you more.”
“Well, that is something.” Diesel said with a smile. “Essentially, this is a modified teleportation spell that disrupts our relative advance from our speed.” As she was met with three blank looks, she elaborated. “Imagine taking a single step, but afterwards you realize you've crossed the distance of a thousand.”
Shetland looked to either side, but to her annoyance, her friends seemed like they had no trouble understanding. “Unicorns,” she muttered.
When they returned to their cabin, a simple room with a sleeping bag hanging from each of the five walls (including ground and ceiling, which were relative of course) they encountered a pleasant surprise in the form of Ciloa, who was waiting for them. She apparently had no problem with the lack of gravity as her hooves just stuck to whatever surface she placed them on. Yet, just as she waved a hoof, Diesel got her attention by poking her shoulder. Loudly, the pegasus said: “Would you excuse us for a moment?”
“What was that about?” Shetland grumbled a minute later. The pegasus had led her away from her friends and through an automatic door. The entire corridor had expanded greatly to make room for this gate, actually. From the hatch on the side and what she assumed was their position on the ship, she guessed it was the cargo space.
Diesel pulled a lever and led Shetland through the opening gate. The cargo was simply vast, especially in comparison to the rest of the ship. It felt more like a wing in her mother's castle, except it was densely packed with containers. The pegasus led her adeptly through the avenues, and they approached a pedestal, on which stood a set of armor. All enclosed, dark purple plates, almost encroaching into black. The helmet's visor was of a lighter purple, which Shetland knew would be transparent from the other side. It was a marvel of craftsponyship and technology. And most of all, it was huge! Reaching above Shetland, it seemed to measure up to even alicorns in sheer dimension. As Shetland quietly stared, Diesel sought to break the silence.
“Your mother told me to show you this, Miss Sparkle.”
Shetland whirled around, just barely catching herself on a crate's edge before tumbling away into the air. “It's Twilight's?” Shetland asked, her eyes widening. Her mother wasn't coming to Horizon too, was she?
“No,” Diesel shook her head, holding a letter out to Shetland. “I believe it is yours.”
Astounded, Shetland broke open the seal, definitely a royal letter, and began to read.
Dear Shetland,
Despite our disagreements, I am still happy you get to fulfill your dreams. My only intention has ever been your best, but it turned out my desire to see you safe has clashed with you choosing your own way. I am deeply sorry for that. With this letter, you will receive an advanced suit of armor, specifically tailored for your needs and optimal protection.
May it keep you safe where I cannot.
Love, Twilight.
Shetland put down the letter, staring at the suit as her mind raced, trying to figure out how to feel about all this. She placed a hoof on the smooth plate as she made her decision. “I won't forget what you did…” she whispered quietly, “but I think I can forgive you.” After all, this was a pretty damn good way of apologizing.
“Awesome!” Ciloa grinned later in their quarters. She would have to leave them before nightfall, whenever that was, but for now she preferred to spend her time with her friends. One friend, specifically, as she was wantonly draping her hooves all over Press's back. Shetland was sure she'd spend the night with them if she could.
“A battlesuit.” Crimson said, his eyes reverently focused on Shetland. “And a pretty good one, I bet.”
“I'm not an engineer,” Shetland grinned back. “But considering that my mom got it, I'd say it’s top notch.” With a sigh, she added. “Too bad Diesel didn't let me try it out, though…”
“Just relax.” Press suggested. “You'll get to use it in time, just you wait.”
“Easy for you to say, you have a marefriend to waste your time on. I got nothing.” Shetland grumbled, holding her hooves crossed as she slowly pinwheeled in one spot.
“You could do that as well, you know?” Press said slyly.
“What?” Shetland asked, taken aback and followed Press's eyes. “No!” She exclaimed forcefully as she realized the bastard was looking at Crimson. She barely even knew him! It would be weird! And top it all off, that red idiot had the audacity to look hurt!
Scoffing, she turned away, unable to get rid of the annoying burning feeling in her face. This is gonna be a looong journey, she thought as she readied herself for bed hours ahead of time.
A sudden crackle shook Shetland from her sleep. Dozily, she looked around, trying to orient herself. Below her hung Crimson, already fighting with the restraints which kept him tied to his sleeping bag. Both their heads turned as the unmistakable voice of Captain Void Waver sounded throughout their room.
“I want everypony at their posts!” her voice announced. “Diesel on the engine, I want three unicorns on the spell matrix, we need a full stop within five-hundred seconds. Nopony else leave their spot!”
Shetland, Press and Crimson shared a confused look as they each struggled to free themselves from their sleeping bags. Ciloa had left them last night, having been assigned to a different room.
“It's not time yet, right?” Crimson asked.
“Can't be,” Press decided. “We're not scheduled to arrive until afternoon.”
Right then, Crimson and Press shuddered, both trying to hold onto a wall.
“What's up?” Shetland asked, worriedly observing them. Press grew green in the face.
“They just… urgh- canceled the spell.” he choked. Crimson floated over a plastic bag, seemingly less affected by the magical something.
“But you were fine when we started.” Shetland said, floating closer.
“The spell was cast gradually, then.” Crimson explained. He had already regained his usual facial colors. He threw a compassionate look at Press, who emptied his stomach into the bag. Shetland looked away, vividly remembering the feeling of weightless retching. From outside the door, the speakers brought a new message from the captain.
“Warning: everypony seek a safe grip. Stopping time at 340 seconds. I repeat, everypony seek a safe grip. Stopping time at 335 seconds.”
Hurriedly, they each grabbed onto a bar going along the wall, clutching it tightly with their front- and in Crimson and Press's case, all four hooves. The slowdown made this precaution seem unnecessary though, as it was closer to the halting of a carriage than what they'd expected from a spaceship. It went on for a while however, and Shetland felt her hooves growing tired when it finally stopped. In the sudden silence, the captain spoke again, her voice calmer.
“Everypony, I know you are surprised by our sudden halt. We have received a signal from an unidentified ship along our route. But while we don't know the ship, the signal is clearly an S.O.S. I will not ignore the plight of fellow star travelers and I'm sure you will share that sentiment.” A short pause followed, in which she cleared her throat. “We will try to connect to the ship using the tube on the hatch at our port. The maneuver is risky, but I see it as our duty to help however we can.”
Her voice cut off, yet it appeared much closer, right above Shetland's head. Tiny slits in the wall, which Shetland had assumed were for air filtration, apparently were speakers instead.
“Passengers: We will have to appear as friendly as we can. Therefore, I want the changeling back in the cargo, making space for our shipwrecked.”
So she was broadcasting to all passengers, Shetland realized as Press threw the speakers an angry glare.
“The rest of you will join her, except for the Sparkle-girl, I want you at the hatch, now. Captain, over.”
Press gave her a pat on the back. “Good luck, whatever she needs you for.” He said.
“Good luck moving that stuff. Looked pretty big.” Shetland returned his pat with a thump on his shoulder.
“It's not that hard if it doesn't weigh anything.” Crimson smiled. “I bet we could even move you if we combined our magic.”
“Oh, not you, too.” Shetland chuckled as she opened the door into the busy corridor.
Arriving before the stern-looking pegasus, Shetland saluted, though this time avoiding any sudden movements and thus staying in place. “Captain.”
“Sparkle.” The pegasus responded, turning away to bark orders through a microphone in her hat. “Go through a third check if you have to, Wander, we don't take risks with spacesuits, no matter the situation.” Turning back to Shetland, her voice became calmer, although losing none of its authority. “Your mother has conducted diplomacy for centuries now, yes? I trust growing up around her had you learn many different tongues?”
“Yes, Ma'am.” Shetland nodded. “I speak-”
“Then I'll keep you around in case you can speak with them.” Waver interrupted her. “Keep yourself out of the way for now.” With that, she turned away, ignoring Shetland as she focused all of her attention on the operation. Shetland tried to listen in, but Waver spoke so quickly and the crew made so much noise that she couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Instead, she pressed herself into the nearest wall and made herself as small as possible. It took twenty minutes of hasty activity until Shetland could tell things were coming to an end. The captain called for a check of the tube, invisible behind the hatch, and called the ship-doctor as well as a bunch of crew members whose task Shetland couldn't identify to greet the unfortunate stranded. Shetland pulled herself out of her corner as Waver frowned.
“I've told them they can evacuate now. Unfortunately, I could only speak with their ship's A.I. and it was dumb as shit.” she turned to a trio of unicorns. “We have to be prepared for there to be no survivors if they suffered an atmospheric leak. Prepare to prevent our air being sucked out if necessary. Wander!” She turned to an orange pegasus, wearing a spacesuit. “You will explore the ship if that is the case.”
“Yes, Ma'am.” Came from both, with a salute. Just then, a bleep came from Waver's hat and her eyes turned upwards.
“The A.I. confirms. Connection is stable,” She held up her hoof and several crew members grabbed the various locks and levers keeping the hatch shut. “Opening in 3...2...1... “
The unicorns in the room braced themselves, their horns flaring in preparation for pressure compensation should they open to a vacuum. Instead, the hatch slid down and a small round object flew through the tube. Shetland narrowed her eyes, it looked familiar…
“SEND YOUR CREW IN FIRST, MORON!” Waver shouted into the long, lightless tube. “WE'RE LUCKY IF WE CAN EVEN FIT ALL OF YOU-”
“GRENADE!” Shetland screamed, her eyes widening in horror as she recognized the object and frantically turned away. Screams stopped. A deafening roar blasted over her. Thousand burning daggers pierced her flesh. Thrown about, wind was knocked from her lungs, her ears deafened, the rapid tumbling obscuring her sight. Before she could regain control, something solid and cold smashed into her, propelling them away. Something snapped in front of her face. She instinctively tried to push it away, but claws sunk into her side. Shetland felt its teeth scrape over her pounding heart. Desperately fighting, the machine smashed into a wall with their combined weight. Shetland screamed as its claws were ripped from her flesh. Catching herself, she finally got a look at the attacker. It was a machine, like a skeletal wolf with deadly metal teeth. A pole had wedged itself into its ribcage, pinning the jawbot. Summoning her strength, Shetland jumped and smashed her shoulder into it, fully impaling it on the pole.
Right then, Shetland finally registered the shooting from behind her. It seemed more machines, most of which looked like skeletal ponies, were exchanging fire, but the ponies were in a losing position, Shetland realized as her blood froze. Most not even fighting anymore, they were trying to escape, Diesel in the front, sometimes shooting behind their back. However, the jawbots were giving chase. A pony fell, her flank bitten clean off.
Shetlands lip quivered as she turned to run. That could have been her, she realized, pushing herself on. Her friends were in the cargo! They had weapons! She launched herself forward, the sound of gunfire and mechanic growls pushing her onwards. She only barely managed to catch herself in the junction towards the cargo.
Press's eyes widened, his magic grip clutching a rifle. Shetland launched herself towards him, but changing directions had slowed her down too much. Only a moment later, a bot smashed into her back, hurling both of them right where Press was floating a second ago. She could feel its cold teeth sink into her back, then...
Nothing.
Shetlands eyes ripped open. Pain. Hot, piercing agony shot from her backside through her whole body, clawing its way out her throat in an ear-bursting scream. It drowned out any other noise as others rushed to her. Only when Press pressed his rifle's barrel against the jawbots head and pulled the trigger did she stop. Gasping for air, Shetland set to scream again, her voice breaking as her throat felt like bursting. Attempts to calm her were futile, her world was pure agony and the shouts of her friends couldn't reach her.
Suddenly, from her foreleg, sweet release. She felt something on her chest. Press had been holding her down! He let out a relieved sigh as they pulled away, letting Ciloa float into view. Her magic discarded an empty syringe. Her voice was shaking as her eyes wandered over her body. “D-do you feel okay?”
“I… feel better.” Shetland croaked hoarsely, trying to shift her weight. A gasp escaped her sore throat as her backside felt like an awful sunburn. “What…”
Ciloa's lip quivered. She looked fragile, like a glass figure. “Shetty… you were… your leg...” She swallowed.
“What about it?” Shetland rasped. “I need to see!”
“Shetland…”
“I NEED TO SEE!”
Ciloa took a step back, throwing Shetland a fearful look. Without saying a word, her magic enveloped the earth pony, lifting her in a position where she could easily look down her own body at…
Shetland would have screamed again if her voice didn’t give out.
Her right hind leg was scorched! The skin itself was burnt off, only remaining as blackened shreds around the red and pink… meat. It was like she was looking at a highly branched river of lava. There was not a single hair left on the limb, or the other legs inner thigh. And her cutie mark… it was gone, the meat not even red, but a lifeless white. Shetland swallowed, a sick feeling rising from her guts. Even though she felt nothing, thanks to whatever wondrous drug Ciloa had found, she could still smell the stench of burnt flesh. Ciloa seemed to feel the same way, her jaw was shivering.
“H-how did this happen?” she stammered, unable to draw her eyes away.
“It must have… I think…” Shetland stumbled over her words, trying to recall. It had all happened so fast, her memory was a mess of panic and… “Grenade.” she whispered.
“A GRENADE?” Ciloa gasped. “Are they crazy? They could have blown everything into deep space, including themselves!”
“That just makes it scarier to face them.” Press's amazingly clam voice said as he came closer, a pitying look on his face as he examined Shetlands leg. “Especially with just two of us…” He mumbled.
“I can fight, too.” Ciloa said grimly, although her voice was shaking.
“You haven't ever shot a gun before!” Press exclaimed.
“Then show me!”
“You need practice to shoot!” He shouted. “Especially here, where the recoil will throw you off your hooves every single time!”
Ciloa wanted to answer, but he cut her off. “NO! NO ARGUMENTS!” All false calmness dropped away as he angrily gazed at her. She recoiled, lowering her eyes.
“What happened while I was out?” Shetland asked. Her mouth was dry, what she wouldn't give for a glass of water.
“That was only a couple seconds.” Press explained. “You hit a big crate with your head, thank Celestia your skull is as thick as a bunker.” he seemed like he wanted to chuckle, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He turned to a large gate, where Crimson was sitting, his eyes wide open as he pressed his forehead against it. Press spoke again, his voice husky, empty. “We locked the cargo. Nothing could get in. Nothing… and no pony.” A shiver broke out across his body. “T-they were hammering against the gate, but only for a few seconds. The only ones who managed to get inside were you… and Diesel.” He closed his eyes. “She's somewhere behind us, of course. Poor thing. She saw everything.”
“And… what now?” Shetland asked.
Press let out a long sigh. “If only we knew…”
“We need to go out.” Crimson said loudly. He'd raised his head and pierced Press with an angry glare. “We have weapons, we shouldn't have locked ourselves in!”
“We're outnumbered. And we have no idea how badly!” Press said.
“Well, so what! They're standard warbots, right? Shetty, they were just the standard stuff, right?”
Shetland lowered her head to the ground. “I didn't see much…”
“Did you hear machine guns? Shotguns, more explosives?”
“Crimson, she was running for her life!” Ciloa interfered. “Distinguishing weapons by sound was probably the least of her worries! Why does it even matter?”
“Standard warbots have two variants.” Press explained quietly. “After the contract of Hiroshimare, to make sure we can always beat them. There's the doggie.” he glanced at the remains of the bot he’d shot, which was floating in the back of the cargo. “Mean if it gets close. Pretty sure that one was full standard. Then there's the trash. Has a pistol in a hoof.”
“Both of them are weak, so they can support us real soldiers at best. That means we can beat them!” Crimson said forcefully, but Press shook his head.
“They'll be waiting for us just outside. Weak or not, there's gonna be a massive group out there, waiting for us to poke our heads out!”
“And whose fault is that?” Crimson glared.
“That's not helping.” Press shot a piercing glare back. The other unicorn quickly faltered. But then his ears peaked up.
“Standard bots. STANDARD BOTS!” he exclaimed.
“What about them?” Shetland croaked.
“They're not robots, they're drones!”
“So wha- aat?” Press mumbled. “Drones… they need a control center.”
“Somewhere on their ship.” Crimson said with a grin. “If we get that, it takes them all out in one hit.” His grin quickly faltered.
“But we'd still need to get through most of them first.” Press concluded. “If we had a way to take them all out in one blow-”
“What if we blow them up?” Ciloa suggested. She pointed at the crates. “Did you look in them? I think we're supplying a mining business, I can't think of another reason for this much dynamite.”
“How much?” Shetland asked.
“At least seven crates.”
“Ha!” Shetland laughed, even though it hurt her throat. She assumed, she couldn't feel a thing. “I could blow the whole ship up with that.”
“I don't like this…” Press mumbled. “We could easily blow a hole in the ship and then we're finished, drones or no drones.”
“T-that's an idea!” A meek voice came from behind them, where Diesel stepped out of the labyrinth of crates. “N-not with explosives though. You said they would all line up right before the gate?” She asked Press, who nodded.
“It just makes sense. They can keep us in here until we try a reckless sortie or they find a way to get in.”
“Then I think we can take them all out.” Diesel said boldly. Having captured the attention of everyone, she pointed at a set to switches next to the gate. “The controls, they can open and close the cargo… on both sides.”
“You mean…” Ciloa looked at the far side of the room. “But there's just-”
“Space!” Diesel nodded. “Your marine armor has a setting, I believe, magnetic hooves. We find enough of them, stick ourselves to a wall and open both gates and suck these bastards out into the void!”
The others shared impressed, although cautious looks. “But if we suck out the air, how would we breathe?” Crimson asked.
“If we get it right, we'll have just enough to fly to Horizon.” Diesel said with certainty. "We just have to close it off again as soon as they are sucked out.”
“And then we charge through and take out their control station- instant win!” Press finished excitedly. He looked at everypony in the room. “I think we've found our plan.
I had not expected to use it so soon, Shetland thought ten minutes later as she placed the helmet on her head and listened to the clicking as her armor sealed itself airtight. She hissed as it pressed down on her flank, causing Ciloa to throw her a worried look.
“It's okay.” Shetland pressed through her teeth. “I'll get a doctor after we've won.”
Ciloa bit her lip, but looked away as she put on her own helmet, her face vanishing behind an opaque visor.
They huddled on the walls, placing all four hooves on the metal, Shetland and Press around one lever at the right side of the gate, the others on the left. “Uh…” Shetland said, uncertain how to use her armor’s features. “Magnet hooves?” She let out a shout as a sudden pull forced her against the wall, forcing weight onto her burnt leg.
“It must hurt like a real bitch if you can feel it even with the drugs.” Press said worriedly.
Shetland nodded. She was already starting to feel claustrophobic in her armor. Her breath was unnaturally loud and her drumming heart shook her to the core. Even though she couldn't see her friends' faces, she knew they were just as anxious.
Press reached upwards. “Give it one second, then open the space door!” he called to the other group. Everyone nodded. “For Equestria.” Press muttered and pulled the lever. A grinding sound came from the walls as the gate slid open. Shetland couldn't see around the corner, but a barrage of clanking metal filled her ears. Yet it was all tuned out as the second door opened. A mighty roar, bigger than any dragon, came from it. Shetland felt it starting to pick up. A few skeletal drones stepped into the cargo, pointing their guns, but were knocked away by a water tank they'd used for cover. Shetland pressed herself to the wall as the roaring wind tugged at her. The drones were now realizing what happened and reached for any hold, but it was too late. Whole groups flew past them. Some of them tried to shoot, but their shots went wild. Shetland's strength was draining.
“Ciloa! YOU NEED TO CLOSE THE GATE!” she bellowed against the wind, but her words were swept away. She turned her head and the blood froze in her veins. Ciloa was staring at the lever, panic in her eyes. It was encased in both her and Crimson's magic auras, but it wouldn't budge. The magic was visibly straining her. In a desperate move, she pulled a hoof from the wall, reached up and pushed the lever upwards.
“YES!” Shetland screamed, but then everything froze.
Ciloa's triumphant shout ceased. Her head turned in horror as her other forehoof came off the wall, then she was sucked off, helplessly flying towards the opening.
“NOOO!” Shetland and Press screamed, but both of their screams were overpowered by Crimson's, who reached out to the flying changeling, grabbing her hoof, but the ferocious pull ripped him too away as they were both towed into the great hollow between the stars. With a loud rumble, the gate shut behind them.
“NONONONOOOO, CILOA!” Press was first off the wall, charging at the lever across. Shetland, who had stared at where her friend had just disappeared was too late to react, but Diesel jumped in his way.
“WE HAVE TO GET THEM BACK IN!” Press screamed, throwing the pegasus off, but was cut short as Shetland pulled him away.
“T-They're gone, Press.” Shetland stammered, unable to believe the words herself.
“She can't be.” Press said, his voice breaking from unbearable anguish. “We can still save them.”
But Shetland shook her head. “There's nothing we can do. All we can do is push onwards.” Tears pooled in her eyes, obscuring her vision.
Press let out a scream as he pulled himself along the ground with his magic. His breathing was unstable, as he pushed out in a shaky, vulnerable voice. “Let go of me, Shetland. Y-you’re right. It's their fault!,” He screamed a shout full of fury and loss. “I WILL MAKE THEM PAY!” With that, he kicked the larger mare off, grabbed a gun in his magic and charged into the ship. Startled, Shetland drew her own weapons and pulled herself after him, only once stopping to make sure Diesel was following. She could hear Press scream, followed by rapid fire. The devastated remains of a doggie showed the victor of the fight. Already, she could hear more combat sounds, and she cursed her leg which prevented her from going faster. Suddenly, behind her she heard a scream. Whirling around, she saw a drone shooting at the screaming Diesel. Her shout came from surprise rather than pain, her magic shielding absorbing the worst of the bots' attacks. The shield already cracked, however, and the scared mare seemed unable to shoot back.
Shetland's rifle made short work of its head. Pulling the shivering mare up, she once again lunged after her friend, who had left behind a trail of smoldering machinery. But there was more than that. Shetland had to shut her eyes and push away the floating bits of pony more than once, ponies she'd barely seen the faces of and would never get to learn the names of- it made her sick.
A scream came from the tube. One that sent a cold shower of fear down Shetland’s back. One of not anger, but pain. Followed by gunshot. “NO!” Shetland screamed, doubling her efforts. She barged into the devastated room. A gunbot was standing over Press's body as he fought against a doggie. Shetland could hear a shot and a gurgling noise from Press and her world became red. Forgetting all about her weapon, she charged into the gun-wielding drone, slamming it into a wall. Her armored hoof came down, denting the metal. Sparks flew out from the drone's face and its shots went wild. Shetland drew her shotgun and turned it into scrap. A second shot boomed from behind her. Press had turned his gun against the doggie, but now his magic failed,the gun slowly floating away from him. His hooves grasped his helmet, trying to force it off.
“No…” Shetland whispered, floating closer to Press, unwilling to believe her eyes. Little bubbles of blood escaped from a small hole at the side of his throat.
“Fuckers…” Press forced out, his voice weak and shaky. “Didn't see the doggie, jumped me as the other emptied his gun… ruptured my shields.”
“Hold on!” Shetland shouted, her voice quivering. “W-we can help you, we can get you to the sick bay, we can-” She fell silent, touching her helmet. Press has just slapped her cheek.
“Nothing… you can do for me,” Press said, finally managing to pull his helmet off. His face was pale. “Save yourselves.” He whispered. “I'll be with…” But his air ran out and he closed his eyes, his lips twisting into a pained, but nonetheless content smile.
Shetland took a step back. She swallowed, but it did little to help the dryness in her throat. “Come on,” She said shakily to Diesel, but mostly to herself. “We need to go on.”
She turned towards the tube and without looking back at her former friend, she moved on. The enemy's ship was notably smaller, and tighter, she couldn't stand fully upright. Against her fears, she only found a single drone, which she finished off with a quick blast from her shotgun. It seemed the attackers had not expected their prey to ever make it to their ship. All the better, Shetland thought. But where is the crew? The ship was deserted.
“They're coming after us!” Diesel shouted and indeed, Shetland saw the first bot emerging from the tube. The A.I. must have been panicking. She fell it with her rifle, then turned and pulled herself towards what she presumed was the cockpit. The poles and grips on this ship were annoyingly small. As she turned around a corner, she popped a few shots back into the hallway. “DIESEL!” she screamed. “DEACTIVATE THE DATA CORE!”
“W-what?” The pegasus stammered.
“THE GLOWING CUBE!”
“I-I can't find it!”
A curse on her lips, Shetland looked around the room, full of glowing doodads. “Damnit, damnit.” she cursed, hearing the drones get closer, then her eyes fell on it. The size of a pineapple, it was behind a metallic ring covered in buttons: a green, glowing cube. Shetland reached through the ring, grabbing the core. It could be a trap, she realized, but there was no time anymore as she yanked out the wires.
Silence.
She looked around the corner. All the bots were floating, motionless, as if their batteries had been removed. Even as she stepped closer and shot one of them, no reaction. “Ha…” she said, pressing her hooves on her helmet. It was over. She'd won.
Finally, the tears burst from her eyes as she broke down.
She did not know how long she had been crying. Tears pooled in her helmet, clouding her vision, but just as she straightened herself, some function in her suit absorbed the fluids. Diesel was gone, leaving Shetland with the debris of disabled machines. They'd been shot… had she done it herself, or was it Diesel without her noticing? Could have been both. Shetland shook her head. Everything seemed so surreal. Had it really only been a day? No, it only could have been an hour. Two hours. Or three…
Closing her eyes, Shetland took a deep breath, forcing her mind to focus on something practical. Diesel was probably looking for survivors. Shetland hoped dearly there'd be somepony else, the captain, anypony with authority, who knew what to do. And she'd have to shoot every drone, just to be safe. With a clear goal in mind, she pulled herself to the tube. A cry escaped her sore throat. Her hindleg throbbed with pain, as if it was splitting apart and doused in flames. Even more unnerving, however, was a deep-seated prickle. It felt like it was coming from the bone itself…
Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself onwards. There'd be painkillers in the cargo. She pushed her way through the tube, pushing drone parts to the side. Suddenly, her eyes widened and she came to a standstill.
Press.
Last time she saw him, his body was seated against a wall, looking like he was leaning back, as if maybe he was just sleeping. But there was no sitting in space. Instead, his body slowly coursed through the air, his limbs pulling away from his body as he slowly spun around himself. A mock parody of even a string puppet. Alien. Shetland's eyes couldn't pull away as he, almost gracefully, crossed the room in his flight until he collided with a severed hoof, Shetland couldn't tell who it belonged to. She forced her eyes away and pulled up her nose, yet the image remained even as her eyes closed. She pushed onwards, through floating debris, weapons, cover, ponies. Her mind soon blanched, overwhelmed and unwilling to recognize any more faces.
“Hello?” She shouted, but nopony answered. “You can come out now! The danger is gone!” she shouted, but nopony came. She went through the ship, calling out like that. She couldn't tell if her hope was fading. Indeed, she felt too numb to even tell if she'd harbored any.
“Shetland…” Diesel's tired voice came from ahead. Shetland followed it, moving into what was clearly the cockpit, from the sheer abundance of buttons alone. A big, wooden wheel brought out a ghost of a chuckle. Shetland could almost see Captain Void Waver standing there, shouting orders.
“Shetland…” Diesel's voice said again.
Shetland pulled back, blinking. Diesel had taken Waver's place, floating in front of the wheel. She had ditched her armor and her wings were free, although they hung limply at her side. She looked smaller than ever. She looked up at the taller mare. Her eyes lacked any light. “Have you found anypony?” .
Shetland shook her head and Diesel sighed. “Of course…” she mumbled.
Looking down at her hooves, Shetland bit her lip. “We have to go to Horizon,” she decided. “We have to bring them the news, tell them it isn't safe anymore, ships have to be guarded-”
“Shetland?” Diesel asked weakly, but the earth pony suddenly stood stiff as a statue. Her lips moved silently, forming the words “Horizon.”
“They came from the colony!” Shetland exclaimed.
“Shetland-”
“It makes sense! They were on our way, just waiting for us to fall in their trap, but why would there only be drones, you can't possibly launch a real attack with just support drones-” she gasped as it dawned on her. “Diesel… the real invaders could still be in the colony, plundering or who knows what, we need to warn-”
“SHETLAND!” Diesel shouted. “WE'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE!”
“W-what?” Shetland said, taken aback.
“Shetland.” The pegasus said, her voice shaken from anger or desperation. “We're finished! Maybe it hasn't gotten into your thick skull, but I. Can't. Fly. This. Ship. CAN YOU?”
Shetland went pale. “But… what if we send out an S.O.S. L-like they did?”
“We can't.” Diesel said, pressing a hoof to her forehead. “We can't. I thought we'd be able to, but when your friend failed to push the stupid lever, we… we lost too much air.” Her wing spread out. “Tonight, at the latest… we'll faint. And we won't wake up again. No help will arrive that fast. We're doomed.” she finished with a haunting whisper.
Shetland stood silent as her brain tried desperately to find any loopholes, but failed. Instead, it filled her with anger. “Ciloa did not fail.” she whispered, barely containing her emotions. “She did her best. It wasn't her fault, an accident.”
“Fault or not, she doomed us!” Diesel cried out. “If she hadn't failed to just push a lever- If your stupid friend hadn't charged brainlessly ahead, If you cowards hadn't hid in the back, cowering while everypony who could save us now was SLAUGHTERED, maybe, maybe IF YOU DID YOUR JOBS-”
“WE DID THE BEST WE COULD!” Shetland shouted, building herself up over the pegasus, glaring her down with a ferocity she'd never felt before. “NEVER INSULT MY FRIENDS AGAIN! THEY SACRIFICED THEIR LIVES!”
“You sacrificed OUR lives. You're the soldiers, it's your job to die first, how come you're still alive?”
Before Diesel could react, Shetland had grabbed her gullet and squeezed. “Don't. Insult my friends, you spineless little worm. You wouldn't even be here without them.”
Diesel coughed as she was released. Glaring at Shetland with anger-filled eyes, she mumbled. “There's nothing you can do to me. We're already finished.” With that, she turned her back to Shetland, whose burning feeling was drowned by an icy numbness. Diesel was right. They were both finished anyway. It was only a matter of waiting for the inevitable. She turned away as her stomach grumbled. If she had to die, she wouldn't do so hungrily.
It seemed a small group of ponies had fought a desperate last stand in the “kitchen”. With a bit of help, they might have even succeeded, Shetland realized, as the doorway was filled with destroyed robots… their only pistol probably ran out of ammo and as the unicorn struggled to reload-
Shetland focused her eyes on a pole, from which hung plastic bags, labelled with things as, “Cereal bars”, “Nutrient Chalk”, “Potatoes” and “Cheese”. From far behind her, a shot rang out, followed by silence. Diesel found a way out, Shetland thought, biting into a slice of cheese. Lucky mare. Silently munching, she scanned the remaining bags, already resigning herself that she wouldn't find any roasted crickets, her favorite dish… Twilight had always brought them when she'd finished a test, regardless of how well she did…
Yes, back then, her mother had always cheered for her, she had said herself that she wanted her to succeed, no matter what that… that…
Twilight deserved to know what happened. If only they'd ever resolved their argument, it felt so stupid now. Shetland made her way to the cargo as an uncomfortably hot feeling grew in her chest. After a while of aimless rummaging, she found a helmet. It was too small to wear, but she only wanted its recorder. Removing her own helmet, she switched it on.
“Test,” she said.
“Test,” the playback said, carrying her loud breathing with it .
Shetland took a last bite from her nutrient chalk. It was disgusting, but at least it made her feel a little less empty. She let the plastic bag go, where it floated within hoof's reach, right next to her pistol. Everything was ready. Pressing her eyes closed to gather herself, Shetland switched on the recording.
“H-hey, mom,” she stammered, as her lip quivered. “I-I don't know if this will e-ever reach you, but…” She took a long, shallow breath.”I-I guess you don't age so maybe in like, a- thousand or, he- heck, even a million-” She stocked. “If… If you even remember me at that point, mom, I-I'm Shetland.” Her eyes were burning, as hot tears broke the dam, as well as memories and feelings, bringing her to openly sob. “I-I just wanted you to know, this is how I… died. I'm so sorry. Please, I-if you receive this message, ever, please direct it to my mom… Twilight Sparkle.” Tears were clouding her vision, even as she shook her head. She switched the recording off, her shaky hoof catapulting the helmet away into the room. It was time. Shetland took a deep breath as she took her gun. The muzzle felt cool against her temple. “On three…” she whispered.
“One…” She swallowed, her throat felt as dry as a desert.
“Two…” Her body shook like a fever patient's. Tears poured from her eyes, slowly floating away in little bubbles.
“Three!” she shouted, her hoof clenching the gun. Her eyes shot open. She hadn't pulled the trigger. She strained her hoof, but it was shaking so badly it wasn't even pointed at her head anymore. In a fit of rage, she threw the gun aside. Her breath went heavy, ragged as the blood drained from her face. This was now finally it, she realized as hot tears welled from her eyes. Too cowardly to even end it, she'd just doomed herself… to slow, and undeniably certain death.
She had no idea how long she would have lied there, probably up until her suffocation, but her medication was wearing off and the painful throbbing forced her up again. Rummaging through the crates, she found explosives, tools, steel plates, several medical kits she quickly robbed. A sigh escaped her lips as pain was replaced by relaxing numbness. Cans, water bottles, weapons- Shetland let out a gasp as she discovered a robot.
Not a skeletal drone, but a real robot, like Toasty Crunch! Temptation guided her hoof, but she slapped herself. She looked into the corridor, where a corpse's hoof was moving over its shoulder, grotesquely waving at Shetland. She shouldn't awaken this robot: if it was sentient, she'd subject it to this, a hopeless prison. Her hoof crept up the back of its head, bumping into a tiny switch. Looking down onto it, she whispered: “I'm sorry.” She simply couldn't bear the thought of slowly suffocating alone.
Electric life came to the machine's visor and a shock went through its limbs, catapulting itself away from Shetland. Tumbling through the air, a metallic, but certainly male voice intoned: “Startup sequence completed, initialize scan of surroundings.” His hoof reached out, holding himself to a crate. It focused on Shetland. “Have we arrived yet?” It asked of her, scanning her up and down. “Greetings. I am designated as Mellow Drive, but you can call me Mellow. Could you-” His voice slowly changed from conversational to horrified as he turned towards the remains of battle. “What happened here?” he asked, almost too silent for her to hear.
Shetland sighed, digging out a bottle of some liquor she didn’t know. Opening the lid, she shook out a few floating bubbles which she promptly pushed in her mouth, then she began to explain.
Mellow took it better than she'd feared, probably because he wasn't there to see it all. Still, he was staring at the ground, his processor running at audible sounds. “Everypony is dead…” he whispered. “And you are dead because they're dead…”
“Yup.” Shetland let out a long sigh. “No other way to put it. Unless you know how to pilot a spaceship?”
He shook his head.
“Figures.” she leaned back, lying flat in the air.
“But there has to be a way!” he shouted, looking at her, pleading.
“Sorry, Mellow.” Shetland said quietly. “But there's just nothing…”
“NO!” he said loudly. “Maybe you alone can't find a way, but maybe I can?”
Shetland met his optimistic expression with tired eyes. His visor was actually displaying a little smiley-face. Nonetheless, she knew he was only trying to give her hope. Even if he was an A.I., that alone wouldn't mean he could fly a ship.
She blinked. Something about that thought switched on a light in her head. “Oh Celestia,” she whispered, a smile forming on her face for the first time in hours. “I think I might have a way out of here.”
Shetland pulled herself along the halls. Her eyes were closed, but what she wanted to avoid was burned in her mind. Something soft slapped against her shoulder, sending a chill through her body. She raised a hoof, trying to rub the feeling off, but only felt the hard shell of her armor.
“Shetland?” Mellow’s artificial voice called. “Shetland, do you have a plan? Where are we going?”
“To the tube connecting the ships,” Sse answered. “Can you see it?”
“Yes, up ahead, just a little more.” he answered. “Miss Shetland? What are you trying to avoid seeing?”
She gritted her teeth. “Do you seriously need to ask?” She pressed through them as another part hit her back, emitting a meaty, wet sound.
“Did you know one of them?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.
Shetland remained silent as, despite her closed eyes, her friend’s final moments flashed by… Ciloa’s shock as she realized her own fate… Press's final acceptance, Crimson's attempt to rescue someone he barely knew. Shetland snivelled drily. he'd been the hero. Finally, she said with a hollow voice: “Yes.”
“I'm very sorry, Miss-”
“Stop talking.” Shetland said, holding onto a pole. “Just… pull me through the tube, please.”
“Yes, Ma'am.” he confirmed, taking her hoof in his own and gently pulling her along. She heard him gently push debris, and presumably other things, out of their way. Shetland allowed him to lead, trying to banish her last view of Press from her mind. Was he still floating there? For a moment she wanted to turn back and look-
“Please, let us simply go.” Mellow said, his voice strained. Shetland wasn't the only one who wanted to unsee.
“Sorry,” she mumbled and took a shaky breath. “I lost a friend in there.”
“I can only imagine how stressful that must be for you.” he said quietly. “Your plan to save us. Could you explain it?”
“Yes, yes.” Shetland said as she climbed into the smaller ship, finally opening her eyes. “This ship, there was noone on it. Only drones. No lifeform trained in flying the ship. And that means the ship can fly itself. The data core I unplugged, it controlled everything.”
“But if you start it up again, the drones will start up again!” Mellow exclaimed.
“What drones?” Shetland let out a dry chuckle. “Me and… Diesel, we went looking and shot every single one of them. It is defenseless and if it's sentient, it will cooperate. Hopefully.” she added under her breath.
“This Diesel-”
“Don't ask.”
“So, we can power up the A.I. Why would it cooperate?”
“Because none of our crew knew this ship would be here, it's not one of ours! And why would you just put a ship somewhere into space, full of mindless drones about to board the next ship that falls for their trap?” she took a deep breath. “I think whoever they are, they have two ships. And one of them is in the colony right now, this one was just here to intercept us.”
Mellow’s glowing eyes shrunk to tiny dots. “They have attacked Horizon?”
Shetland nodded. “And this ship may have orders to return after the deed is done. And if we arrive in their own ship, we'll at least have surprise on our side, right?”
“But how do you plan on convincing the A.I?” Mellow asked, his eyes blinding her as he met her eyes.
“It's the only hope, Mellow.” Shetland muttered, gazing at the metallic walls.
“And who do you think these attackers are? Two spaceships seems too expensive for simple pirates. What is your plan to beat them?” he asked inquisitively as he floated a step closer.
“I DON'T KNOW, OKAY?” Shetland shouted, facing away from him completely. “Charge in and free the hostages and arm them somehow?”
“What if there are no hostages, Shetland?” he asked, causing a cold shower to course through her. “They were fine murdering everypony here, why would they not-”
“WE HAVE TO ASSUME!” she bellowed, her voice cracking. Her throat felt like a jawbot was inside, ripping at it's cage. “There are too many ponies in Horizon's port, far more than on one ship, there HAVE to be hostages!” she stated, glaring into Mellow's visor, daring him to disagree.
He fell silent. “There could be more than a dozen adversaries, Shetland. How do you plan to defeat them?” he repeated after a long pause.
Her eyes shifted to him, lingering on his visor as her expression shifted to… something he failed to identify, perhaps sadness? “I-It's all we have Mellow. We just have to hope for the best.” she muttered and floated into the bridge. The room was shaped like a rectangle, in contrast to the Esseles's circular bridge. She turned herself around, facing the dark cube behind the console.
“Mellow, be ready, just in case I left one.”
“Affirmative.” he responded. readying a rifle he'd picked up in the cargo.
“Here goes nothing…” Praying it would work, she pushed the unplugged cable into the cube. As the green lights began to glow once more, she took a step back, leveling her own pistol at the object.
“Startup sequence initiated… Memory loss due to power outage detected.” A voice intoned from above them. They nervously waited as it started to count percentages. Shetland licked over her lips, but all the moisture that should have been in her mouth was rolling down her forehead instead.
“Repairs completed.” The voice reverberated through the room. “Enemies on board detected. Attempting connection to drone units-”
“Don't you dare!” Shetland screamed, even as Mellow flinched under the volume. “I've got your core at gunpoint, any funny business and I'll blow it to pieces!”
“Connection attempt aborted.” Under her helmet, Shetland let out a sigh. “Diplomatic route engaged. You have reactivated this unit. You should be aware that I am bound by programming to not reveal or hint towards my end user's identity.”
Taking a deep breath, Shetland asked: “What is your purpose here?”
“I have been tasked with finding the ship on course to Horizon, disposing of the crew and stripping the ship, as well as the cargo, of its most valuable parts.”
“That was surprisingly helpful…” Mellow said, throwing a suspicious look over to Shetland. “Do you think she is lying?”
“No.” Shetland glared at the cube, sunk in thought as its green light began hurting her eyes. “It makes sense, if my theory is correct. Well,” she declared loudly. “You failed! We destroyed your drones, we have you at gunpoint. There is no way you could kill us anymore.”
“Processing… your statement it true.” it said, not showing a hint of emotion at the fact.
“So…” Shetland said, hoping desperately her assumptions were correct. “It is time to move on to the next thing on the list?”
“...This unit could wait for the enemy to die of natural causes.” It said. Shetland could hear the core's cooling unit pick up as it thought of the conundrum.
“Isn't it usually the case that unmanned ships have to return after a certain date, whether or not they have achieved their objective?” she gulped, her mouth dry as a bone while her back was wet and itchy. The A.I didn't answer, but Shetland pressed on, forcing her voice to sound confident. “So, imagine I shoot your core to little bits. You wouldn't be able to return, ever. So, you have two options. Fail all your objectives and die, or only fail one… but return with us.”
She took a deep breath, her eyes focused on the core as its cooling unit picked up. After several excruciating seconds, the cooler fell silent again. “Your reasoning is valid. Privilege granted. Awaiting your command.”
It was as if a crushing weight had been lifted from her heart. She grinned over at Mellow. They'd have another chance. Turning back to the core, she placed her hoof on it. “Prepare for another power outage.” She warned it before yanking out the wire once again.
“Why-” Mellow started, but Shetland interrupted him.
“Lots to do, little time. I have to move everything we might need from our ship in here and you need to find anything that could be used for communication and destroy it! If they get a warning, we're screwed. You've got one hour.”
Mellow saluted, pulling himself out of the room. Shetland's eyes rested on him and her brows furrowed before she shook her head.
Shetland had separated ten large crates her own size and was closing an eleventh when Press joined her in the cargo. “Are we gonna use all that?” He asked, taken aback.
“Hopefully not,” Shetland said with a sigh. “but it should be enough- HEY!” she shouted at Mellow, who had grabbed a crate.
“I can help!” he protested. “They're really large, and if your leg is as busted as you say it is… what's in them anyway?”
“I'll do it myself.” she said grimly. “They're weightless. And I have painkillers. YOU need to take some armor.” she pointed at a pile. “I put them all out, but I'm not sure of your size. And in this crate over there you'll find weapons. Get used to them.”
“Are you certain you don't want my help?”
“I'm certain!” she asserted, already beginning to tow the first crate.
Assuming it was a thing of pride for the soldier mare, Mellow nodded. “Can I at least carry the guns?”
“Huh?” Shetland seemed like she'd been ripped out of deep thought. “Yes, yes…”
Once again, she stopped when she reached the tube, her eyes pulled towards her friend's body as if from an invisible force.
“Do you want me to put the body away?” Mellow asked gently.
“No!” she blurted out, but then shook her head, breathing in at a shaky, but controlled pace. “Yes...put it away… I need to stay focused.”
When he returned, he looked at her empathetically. “He was really very close to you, wasn’t he?”
She nodded. “He… he was my closest buddy since… ever.” Her eyes took on a distant look. “He was always there for me when nopony else was. Even when mom wouldn't help me, he would.” her mouth felt impossibly dry as she bit her lip until blood flew, but the pain wouldn't come. She simply felt hollow. “He and Ciloa-” her voice broke. “I SHOULD HAVE SAVED THEM! Instead, I saw her sucked out, she was too far away, but Crimson-” she let out a sad chuckle. “He died trying to save her. Even though he only knew her for a few hours. He was a hero. T-the hero I should have been.”
She felt something on her armor. Looking up, it was Mellow's hoof, then met his glowing lights with her own eyes.
“There is nothing you could have done,” he said insistently. “If your friend was too far away, then there was nothing you could have done to save her. I believe you can be a hero, Shetland.” he said, prodding her armor again. “I believe you can save us.”
Shetland turned her head, but Mellow followed, keeping his eyes in line with hers. She looked at him and opened her mouth, just to bite her own lip. “We have to get going, Mellow,” she mumbled, her voice hollow. “You can help with the crates, but don't open them, you could mess it up…” she forced out the words. He nodded, leaving her to work alone, and to her own thoughts.
Half an hour later, Shetland went to the data core, where Mellow was already waiting, now wearing an armor like hers. Seeing him wearing a visor above his visor did bring a tiny chuckle out of her. She re-plugged the core.
“Shall I execute your command now, intruder?” The voice asked.
“Yes.” Shetland said simply, holding on as she heard the hatch to the tube close and the engines start. She turned to Mellow. “We can communicate over our helmets with one another. Once we're on the ground, whatever you do, don't take it off!”
He nodded and she patted his shoulder. “This is our best chance,” she said, before she opened the door to the room in which she’d stored the crates. “Knock here about two hours before we land.” she told him, then locked the door behind herself.
Landing on a planet was a hard task. Freighter ships like the Esseles weren't built to ever land at all. Instead, they would simply detach their cargo rooms and throw them into the planet's atmosphere, where it would be retrieved by pick-up teams from the surface. To make it as efficient as possible, they would use the cargo rooms themselves as well, combining them with existing structures. From above, the colony looked like a frantic mish-mash of glass-domes and metal tunnels and towers. But then the ship pulled up and Shetland lost sight of the spaceport.
She and Mellow laid on the ground, securing themselves with their armor's magnetic hooves. But it did little to shield them from the tremors, which made Shetland’s teeth clatter and her stomach lurch. She felt the gravitational pull shift too, no more pulling them to the “side” and now “downwards”. As she tried with all her might to keep her head from hammering onto the wall, she prayed for a quick end.
A sudden jolt went through the ship. The roar from the counter-thrusters was deafening.
“Landing sequence engaged.” The A.I commented unemotionally.
They braced themselves against the impact, and it felt like a major buck to the chest as the ship landed on one set of springy metal legs, then tipped over onto the others.
Shetland jumped up first, grabbing several weapons out of a crate which had been secured next to them. A pistol, machine gun, shotgun. She added the weapons to her sides. Mellow reached out his hoof, but Shetland stopped him. “Mellow, you need to listen.” she stared into his visor intensely. “The plan is very risky, for both of us.”
“I am ready.” he said with conviction. “To victory.”
“Be very quiet.” she whispered, and pressed an assault rifle into his hoof. Her eyes darted back to him and she swallowed. His optimism and trust felt unbearable. But as she opened her mouth to address him, a knock of metal on metal sounded through the ship and a coarse voice shouted something in a throaty language: “This thing gonna open or what, tin can?”
Shetland brought her gun at the ready, pointing at the door. Mellow silently copied her motion. A loud clank came from it, like whoever was on the other side had kicked it. Shetland reached over to the lever, looking to Mellow. He nodded and in one jerk, Shetland pulled the lever. The door slid open and she opened fire, her gun’s rapid fire blotting out the screams of surprise and anguish. Only when the screams stopped did she take a moment to examine the corpses. They were smaller than ponies, humpbacked and scrawny. Sharp teeth and pitch black eyes adorned their doggish faces.
“Hyenas!” she cursed, but she had no time to solve that puzzle. She jumped over the bodies, looking around. Not too far off she saw a second, taller ship, the other hyena ship, she realized. Next to them was a large structure built from several cargo rooms. Halfway in between stood another hyena, fumbling with it's belt to get at it's weapon. Shetland fell it with a burst from her rifle. “GET IN COVER!” she screamed over her shoulder at Mellow, who fell back into the ship. She galloped over the open field, praying to Celestia as she slipped into the structure itself. They seemed to be as surprised from the attack as she’d hoped, as the main hall was virtually undefended, but that would change soon. Alarm sirens went off, hauntingly sounding after her as she took the leftmost path; the further she got away from the landing, the less resistance would come her way.
It was a good thing she'd taken another painkiller before the landing, despite Mellow's warning. She'd have been severely hampered without it.
She skidded to a halt in front of a door with scorch marks. One look confirmed this was the armory, stripped completely clean. She opened a drawer. Nothing. She'd have to find other weapons to give to the colonists, if she could even reach them. A hateful curse died on her lips. She heard paws hitting the ground. Breathing quickly, she forced her shaking hooves to calm as she hid around the corner, readying her weapon. Only a second later, a group of three hyenas burst into the room, two of them wearing armor close to Shetland’s own. However, her hearing had given her a warning they lacked and the air was filled with automatic fire as they struggled to find cover. One’s shield cracked in a split second. The unarmored one fell, joined by its friend, but the last had managed to take cover behind it's comrade. Shetland's weapon clicked. Her blood froze as the hyena jumped up with a victorious grin. Now Shetland was defenseless in the open. Shots slammed into her shield and she just managed to jump back around the corner as a final shot cracked her blue-ish layer and slammed into her shoulder. Biting her teeth, she grabbed her pistol and faced the hyena. Both quickly aimed. With a loud crack, the hyena’s head exploded. She sat back, gathering her breath for a moment. Her heart felt like it was going to burst and her mouth was dry. A red drop fell onto her visor. The hyena had shot her ear. A shiver went through her. A couple inches…
She slapped her own helmet. Focus! she thought. Focus! Sliding a new magazine into her weapon, she took a new path, chased by the sound of distant gunfire. Hopefully, Mellow could handle himself.
Bullets whizzed past Mellow as he ducked below his cover. He raised his rifle above his head and fired blindly. He'd had to fall back from his first cover already. The hyenas had employed some sort of magic shield to push forward, but he had found a bag of little hoofmade bombs, little more than powder-filled tincans with a fuse, but they'd done the job. But even with minor victories, he knew there was no winning this, his short peek had almost cost him his head and it only confirmed his fears. There were at least eight of them and he hadn't managed to injure even one. He grabbed another bomb from the bag, realizing he was already running low. “Wherever you are, Shetland,” he called over the helmet. “I hope you can come save me soon!” Just then, a cloud of black smoke appeared in the hallway and he was forced to retreat further into the ship.
“Wherever you are, Shetland, I hope you can come save me soon!” His call sounded in her ears as she took another turn. She had arrived in a different sort of tight, maze-like hallway with doors on every side. She cursed again and again as she reached a dead end, helplessly looking at each door. Considering the proximity, she had swapped her rifle for her shotgun, but fights weren't her problem right now. Hot tears welled in her eyes as she ran back, hoping desperately to find a different- WHAM!
She'd run into a hyena and the impact sent both stumbling back, Shetland onto her bad leg, which gave in, sending her to the ground. She tried to get up, but the hyena was faster, jumping at Shetland’s fallen shotgun. With a surge of anger, Shetland thrust her hoof against the beast, pinning it against the wall. It stared at her with startled, fearful eyes. Shetland pressed an armored hoof against its throat. “WHERE ARE THE COLONISTS?” she screamed in broken Hyeanidae. “DID YOU KILL THEM?”
The hyena scowled, but Shetland pressed harder until it let out an almost pony-like giggle. Remembering it as a sign of submission, She let go of its throat, but before it could react, she grabbed her shotgun and pointed it at its chest. The hyena swallowed. “Y-you let me live if I tell you?”
“TELL ME!” she screamed, pressing her gun's barrel against its abdomen. “And if I even suspect a lie-”
“YOUR COLONISTS ARE ALIVE, PONY!” it shouted, eyes going wide with fear. “They're in the auditorium, all safe!”
“How many? How do you defend them? How do I get there?” she asked, increasing the pressure of her gun against the panicking hyena's stomach.
“A-around fifty or so.” It stammmered. “J-just from here, left door, right turn, straight ahead!” Sweat pooled from its head. “That's all I know, I swear!” Looking up into her visor, it's eyes were pleading. “D-don't kill me.”
Shetland pulled back her gun, letting the hyena get up. “You'll sit this out!” she growled forcibly.
The hyena let out a relieved laugh. “Y-yes, of course, I-I won't fight you, I'll stay right here, No problem!” With that, it turned away, bolstering a disbelieving grin.
It evaporated as Shetland's hooves shot forward, grabbing its head and snapped it around. A loud crack filled the room and the body became lifeless, only the eyes rolling around to Shetland, asking.
Shetland turned away, picking her gun up once more. Her breathing went shallow. Her leg began to hurt and she cursed the drug, it's duration shortened every time! Sucking in air, she pressed a hoof on her shoulder, where blood flowed over her armor. Funny, she hadn't noticed that. A thin stream had reached all the way down to her hooves…
“Shetland?” The sudden scream snapped her back to the present. “Shetland, WHERE ARE YOU?” Mellow screamed. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold them off, they're IN the ship, I'm out of bombs, thank Celestia you sealed every side door… Just HURRY, alright?”
Narrowing her eyes, she grit her teeth to the point that they hurt and barreled forward.
Large wooden doors locked off the auditorium. Shetland looked around, but there was no other door, only a vending machine on her side. Lacking any better idea, she peeked through the keyhole. Ponies, many of them, on benches, on top of or under seats, all in a semi-circle around the far stage where Shetland could just make out the back of one hyena. There would be more, she thought, but it was a start. She angled her rifle and fired a large burst through the door, splintering the wood and judging from the anguished scream, catching a hyena in the volley. Then she jumped to the side, just in time to evade the return fire from what seemed like several automatic weapons. She ground her teeth, more would soon be upon her, she needed to end this now!
“Shetland!” Mellows voice screamed again. “I-I just lost a hoof, I need help!”
“I’M WORKING ON IT!” she shouted, firing blindly through the door, but she didn't dare fire at another angle, out of fear of hitting the ponies. The hyenas had no such scruples, forcing Shetland to duck behind the vending machine for cover. I need a plan! she thought as sizzling soda cans erupted from the machine. Just then someone bellowed a scream. At first she thought it came from Mellow, but then she spied through the badly splintered door. A group of hostages had snuck up on their wardens. One had went down, but the other, behind a metal desk for cover, wrestled with a pegasus mare for his weapon. Screaming, Shetland burst into the room.
The pegasus looked up at her and the hyena smashed its paw on her head, pulled the gun free and shot a burst in her chest. It turned to face Shetland, but she was already ramming into it, forgetting all weaponry. Rage lead every strike against the crunching body, even as it stopped twitching, she would crack every last piece-
It was as if a red mist had been lifted. Cold air tore into her lungs, her breathing was heavy. She suddenly saw down at herself, drenched in blood, her hooves beating on a formless body. Her head turned to the colonists. Some few were still cheering, but many stared in a look of horror, and most of them gathered around the body of the pegasus. One look confirmed there was no saving her, multiple holes in her chest, throat and legs…
Unable to follow her last moments, Shetland let her eyes wander further. Some were looking sick. Some were desperately calling for a doctor. Others stomped on the body of the other hyena, their eyes filled with rageful tears.
“Shetland?” The question came from Mellow. “I'm on my last cover, my visor is cracked, I can barely see, you have to come save me NOW!” His tone was hurried, desperate, despaired.
“How many are there?” Shetland asked, looking over the colonists. With the dead hyenas, she had maybe four weapons to give to the ponies, maybe in a pincer move-
“I don't know, they're swarming around the ship, but at least fourteen!”
Fourteen!? Shetland’s blood froze in her veins. Cold sweat ran down her forehead. She looked over the colonists. Some of them seemed brave, but not like soldiers. Fourteen! Shetland's breath quickened, her throat was utterly dry. She'd taken on three at a time at best, WITH the element of surprise… they would be prepared. Armed. She took off her helmet as hot tears filled her eyes. She swiped them away with her hoof, but they were replaced instantly. She swallowed, and her throat hurt more than any injury she'd sustained. “I- I'm sorry Mellow.” she whispered into the helmet, her voice quiet, broken.
“WHAT?” Mellow screamed incredulously. Shetland heard the sound of gunfire over his com. “YOU CAN'T! YOU HAVE TO COME SAVE ME, SHETLAND, YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME ALONE, SHET-”
Unable to bear his voice, she threw the helmet away, where it rolled under a seat. With shaking hooves, she opened a compartment in her armor, from which she pulled a little device with a red button, which quickly extended an antennae. She swallowed again, her hooves shaking nearly bad enough to drop it. She moved her dry lips, silently forming the words: “I'm sorry.”
She pressed the button and all she managed to hear through the barrage of noise was the quiet crackle which had replaced Mellow's voice.
She dropped. Her stomach twisted. She felt nauseous. Something wet dropped from her nose onto the ground. The hostages gathered around, unsure what to do of her strange behaviour, some asking what just happened. Shetland couldn't answer, she felt bile rise up her throat. Her skin felt cold. The atrocious crackle still rang in her ears and she dragged herself over the seat and stomped on the helmet, shot it, smashed it to pieces, but the sound wouldn't stop! Screaming, she got up, running and bursting through the wooden doors. She immediately spotted a pair of hyenas, but instead of opening fire, they screamed and turned to run. Shetland fired, cutting both of them down in an instant, then gave chase in blind fury. She didn't know how many she caught, only that she shot every single one that she found. Then, just as she reached the outside, she heard a mighty roar. The hyena ship's engines started up, carrying them away as they fled the colony.
However, the sight that made Shetland drop was that of the burning wreckage that had both destroyed and saved her life just half a day ago. The fire was spreading and smoke filled the air, making it difficult to breathe. The colonists that caught up screamed, some fleeing, some trying to combat the fire. Some tried to drag Shetland away, but she was motionless. Despite the screams and the fire, she only heard a faint crackle. Her leg hurt. Breathing hurt. Flashing a smile, she fought with her armor to free a foreleg. From another compartment, she pulled out a syringe. She set it to her leg and pushed, it wasn't enough! Another one pierced her skin, and another. And as the drug flowed through her veins, the pain stopped and the horrible crackle was slowly replaced by the calming sound of her heart.
Something cold touched her cheek, screaming filled the air, close to her ear, but Shetland simply smiled as she closed her eyes. The pain was gone, and the melody of her heart soothed her to sleep.
The high-pitched sound tore into her ear. She frowned. Her face felt weirdly stiff. She took a deep breath. The air smelt… pleasant. An odor of pine trees and magnolias.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
She way lying on something soft, yet her back felt like she’d it had been granite.
Beep. Beep.
A rumble came from her throat, somepony shut this noise off! Shetland opened her eyes. Bright light stung them, forcing her to close them again. Slowly creating a tiny gap, she managed to get a look at her surroundings. She was lying on a bed. Around her hung mint-colored curtains, blocking her view from everything but the beige walls. On her right was a small, beeping monitor.
She tried to move her legs, but a jolt of pain shot through her right hindleg. Shetland gasped, clenching her teeth as she waited for the pain to subside. A nurse came running to her, her hasty babbling sounding like gibberish. Her throat felt dry once more. Events stormed into Shetlands mind, Ciloa, Press, Crimson…
Mellow.
She raised a hoof to her eyes, but could not banish their last images. She nodded at the concerned nurse's jargon, just wanting her to go away. She covered her ears. The air crackled like a dead radio.
Just then, a door flew open and the only person Shetland could bear to see peeked past the curtains, her eyes moist just like her own.
“Thank Celestia, Shetty, you're safe!” Twilight said, her voice breathy.
“Mom…” Shetland stuttered, a tear rolling from her eye.
“I was so worried!” Twilight cried, throwing any restraint to the wind as she wrapped her forelegs around her daughter's shoulders. “When I heard about the attack, I- I wouldn't know what to do if something happened to you!”
Shetland slowly laid her forelegs around Twilight. Although it pained her stiff back, she leaned forward, hiding her face in Twilight’s chest as she let her tears flow. Her tension evaporated as everything flashed before her eyes until she was left only with darkness, and the feel of her mother's warm fur.
Shetland sobbed, hiccups disrupting her words. “Y-you were right. You were so, so right.”
