Chapter 1: Splash down
The blare of alarms filled the room as the smoke of distant fires suffocated out what little oxygen remained. The fire themselves ravaged through the Pathfinder like disease, pumping its way through; destroying everything in body and mind. Every creature aboard ran in every direction desperately trying to fix these issue or make it to a life pod before it was too late. The end result however was still absolute disarray.
To say the Pathfinder was in a state of chaos would have been an understatement. In just a few seconds it had gone from everything in the green while they scouted out a new sector of space, to having a hole the size of Canterlot blown through its starboard quarter; leaving two main engines down and the other completely destroyed beyond repair. Worse yet, as the crew broke into full panic to figure out what was happening the Pathfinder begin a trajectory course towards a planet, seemingly of its own volition. This sudden pull created far more stress than the ship was designed to handle resulting in it breaking apart in several locations across its starboard side. For most of the crew things seemed to be only going from bad to worse; sparking primal terror which only made things worse. It was for this reason Captain Trail Breaker gave the order to abandon ship. The order plus the chaos ultimately resulted in a every creature for themselves mentality griping the crew collective conscious in a vice like grip.
Creatures only mere inches from life pods were left behind, others trampled, many more simply left behind as they became trapped behind debris. It was a grim sight, that weighed heavily on the minds of many creatures still trapped on board. Unfortunately, their fear overruled their morals. For those on the receiving end of this, was total despair and such was the case for a senior Loadmaster, changeling by the name of Scarab.
If he had a physical heart he's sure it would have been pounding as he watched another life pod eject right before his eyes. That was the fifth one in a row that he'd just barely missed; to make matters worse there were only a few more left. He was running out of time, something he desperately could not afford to lose.
“Aughh to Tartarus with it all!” Scarab cried as he began making a break down the corridor. Unfortunately for him, the cargo bay was located just under the engine rooms meaning this section of the ship had suffered some of the worst damage. Lights flickered on and off as smoke choked out what little visibility remained, leaving him largely disoriented. Worse yet the consonant fluctuation of gravity as the artificial gravity failed, was making even that difficult. Frequently he found his body being suddenly and violently catapulted back, into a wall or maybe it was the floor? Or ceiling? Whatever it was, it made navigating near impossible.
Thankfully he had once saving grace up his sleeve. He had the layout of the cargo area memorized, from his near 300 days spent abroad plus another 100 dozen in training sims, so even if he couldn't see he knew his approximate location at all times. He just had to stay focused as he was hurled around in the darkness.
Then like a light in the darkness he heard a call ahead of him, giving him hope and a point of reference.
“Life pods C-seven and ten this way!” The voice called out. With that bit of hope he compelled the hemolymph in his body to shoot into his back legs, propelling him forward and through the air as his organic hydraulics kicked out. While he was airborne for only a few seconds, it felt like an eternity for Scarab as he launched himself forward, hoping and praying that he'd make it this time. Then just as he cleared the smoke he heard the familiar bang as another life pod ejected sending him into a pit of despair. Had he tear ducts, he would likely have cried that he had missed his chance. Likely his final one.
As the smoke cleared from his vision he found himself alone in a burning hallway; devoid of his only escape. He could feel the growing heat behind him, attempting to consume him in its fiery embrace. He should have moved, instincts told him to move, but he remained too weighed down by grief. What did it matter if he moved or not, he was going to die in the impending crash anyway if the fire dint get him first, he reasoned. What difference did it make. Images of his life flashed before his eyes as he slowly came to accept his fate. Friends, families, set backs, accomplishments, all of it laid displayed out before him. But not in the chronological order everyone seemed to describe near death experiences. Instead it was mismatched, in an order with no rhyme or reason. One moment he was earning his certification to pilot heavy equipment, the next he pushing out of his egg into his mothers embrace as his body growled and begged for love. Then with thoughts of his home back on Equestria as he lounged about most days he wasn't over seeing hive expansion before being appointed by Thorax to assist on Cargo and construction management aboard the Pathfinder. While he wasn't IN charge in charge. He did see a significant amount of influence in the daily going ons of the cargo bag: managing resources as they were distributed as well as having to test operate most of the heavy equipment. Thankfully "Technological Advancement Cooperation" or "T.A.C" for short, made most if not all there machineries control schemes identical. Making it easy for him to transition between operating equipment.
What a way to go. You knew the risk going in he scolded himself But being the first to see the stars. Being the fist pioneers to lay the foundation for future star farers was too much of an appeal. Gha...the ponies’ Princess and Thorax made it sound so nice. In reality this job was so boring, and the first time somethin exiting happens, I'm going to die. I was so exited when I thought I was going to be doing something great… But now… Fear at this point had long since left his body, leaving him only with the hollow feeling of regret for the things he never did. Never said. Never would do. Never would say… It ate away at him like an infectious cancer. Threatening to kill him from the inside out.
It was at that moment however, something within him resonated. He was far from dead yet, and as such those regrets were meaningless. He refused to fall victim to them. While he was unsure where this sudden swell of feelings came from, he happily took it. He felt his body and mind harden as one, unlike any time before, even when he molted. It felt as though he was made of iron.
“Not yet!” Scarab cried as he pulled his body away from the consuming fire. His attention snapped back to the smoke. With zero visible life pods left, he had to hope that one laid in the smoke somewhere. He opened his spiracles for one last intake of pure oxygen before shutting them closed and delving back into the hazy smoke. His hooves fumbled across the walls causing waves of pain to shoot through him. The metal burned as hot as the fire that engulfed it, forcing his body to cry out in protest to let go. Sadly he couldn’t afford to let go and simply use magic to search. As he'd likely waste too much searching every wall before he found it. Rendering him too exhausted to continue. So he was forced to endure if he hoped to find a pod in the chaos.
Long after he'd lost most the sensation in his hooves aside from a consonant almost shock like pain, he did manage to find a groove in the wall; indicating a life pod. Not a moment too soon either, as his body was quickly running out of oxygen. Though as he felt for the control panel, he slammed his hoof against the wall in frustration; sending another wave of pain through him. His hooves were far too burnt to properly feel and press the correct assortment of buttons especially while blind. He simply couldn't tell which button his hooves were on.
He felt his panic build up once more as he realized he would be forced to use up magic reserves he’d likely need for later. Ultimately though he knew it couldn't be helped this time. So his horn ignited with the emerald green fire of changeling magic as he desperately worked to open the craft.
Bingo! He cheered as he heard the familiar click of a life pod door open. He swiftly fumbled inside, closing it shut to prevent any smoke from getting in; taking a deep relieved breath. The oxygen stung a bit as his body purged the built up carbon dioxide, but it was a welcomed pain. After taking several split seconds to look himself over for any life threatening injuries, he strapped himself in.
“A.I! Eject the pod now!” He ordered as he finished locking his safety harness into place.
“Okie dokie!” an over enthused female voice rang back. Suddenly the pod jerked as it was flung away from the destroyed ship and towards the blue ball below.
“Hu, that's odd,” the A.I chimed, “We seem to be, being pulled in by something.”
“Pulled in by what?”
“I can’t say for sure. But I would totally guess some sort of super advanced, artificial, alien tractor beam thingy.”
“A what now-” Scarab was cut off as the ship jerked violently from its current trajectory; sending a fire extinguisher flying wildly through the life pod.
“Oh that's going to hurt,” the AI verbally cringed. Then like a bolt of lightning the rouge red cylinder collided with Scarab's head, sending him out cold.