A white room, where not much moved. That was where Starlight found herself, secured in place by violet constructs around her fore and rear legs and plugged into the wall by a port in her lower neck. She had tried to pull herself free, but quickly given up on that option. The magic that held her was simply too strong.

She supposed that she should have been grateful that they had not put her back in a ship as an engine, but somehow being trapped in this room was worse. Starlight knew exactly what they were planning. Somewhere out there, they were getting a tube of liquid prepared for her. This room and its bare, white walls would be her last conscious memories before a lifetime of agonizing half-sleep. The fact that she had been given a chance to think about that final outcome- -and to wonder if her friends were still safe, or even alive- -made her imprisonment unbearable.

All she could do was wait for her doom, suspended and unable to escape. There were not even other ponies to be with her, to at least try to explain why. The only time she had seen anything other than the empty room was when they had brought her in, and slightly later when the wall had become transparent. She had looked into the faces of a rainbow-maned, winged pony, as well as three sad looking white winged ponies and a set of robots flanking a hologram of a violet alicorn- -as well as Marc Antony and Bob. Starlight had barely been able to bring herself to look at the group, to let those two be the last vestiges of this galaxy she ever saw, but something had caught her eye.
Bob, who was standing in the back of the group, had smiled and pointed to her own neck, mirroring the Cerberus collar that kept Starlight form using her magic. Starlight had initially seen it as an insult, but something in the look of that sickly human’s eyes made her wonder. It was the same look she had shown when she had detonated Zedok’s shotgun.

Either way, Starlight found herself hating Cerberus, and those ponies that she had seen. They were the ones who had taken her, who had refused to let her live her life for no fault of her own. Not that it mattered, of course. Starlight had lost. There was nothing left for her to do, save to close her eyes and wait for the end, trying to reflect on her short life. She could not even bring herself to cry.

She was not sure how long she stayed there, alone and immobile, before a sound drew her attention. Starlight opened her eyes and looked around the room, not sure where it was coming from- -until she realized that it was coming from her. Or, more specifically, from the Cerberus collar around her neck.

Starlight’s eyes widened as she realized what that meant. She could not recall having used her biotic powers, but somehow the collar was activating. Desperately, she tried to grab at it with her hooves, but she could not move them. So instead she closed her eyes and waited for the blast, wondering if that might be better than the fate awaiting her.

The collar vibrated and then burst open, surging with white energy. The energy arced outward into everything magical inside the room- -to the fields that held Starlight in place and toward the door and lights. All of them immediately interacted with the lightning-like energy and flashed out. Starlight felt herself fall to the floor as the room went dark.

The collar stopped sparking and Starlight frantically pulled it away. It came off easily and clattered to the floor. Whatever mechanism had just activated was still glowing red and smoking as it flickered with tiny white sparks.

“What the hell?” said Starlight. She did not understand what had happened, or why the collar had done that. It even took her a few minutes to realize that she was now free, at least from the magical shackles that bound her.

Even with no idea of what was going on, for the first time since she had been captured, Starlight felt a glimmer of hope. She pulled the tether needles out of the back of her neck and looked around. She spotted a shelving unit on one of the walls, where she knew they had put her armor. She reached out with her magic to open it, but nothing happened. Something was pushing back, like a force inside Starlight’s mind physically holding her back. All that her horn produced were a few weak sparks. Whatever was suppressing her magic was strong, but it felt malleable- -Starlight guessed that she could probably break free of it, but she had no idea what it could do if her magic suddenly breached the field that was holding her back.

Without her magic, Starlight crossed the room and opened the container by hoof. She quickly slipped the armor on- -hoping that she would not need it. As she did, she opened her omnitool, which still worked fine. After breathing a sigh of relief, Starlight checked to see if she could contact her friends. She only found one signal within one hundred kilometers, and it was the one she had detected before to track Lyra’s ship.

“Okay,” she said to herself, trying to calm herself down and organize her thoughts. “I’m trapped on an enemy ship, I’ve got no biotics, no help, and no plan. That’s not good. But I can work with this.”

She crossed the room, stepping over the sparking remains of her collar. The lights were still flickering and dim, and the door hung partially open. Starlight approached it and put her hoof on it, pausing for a moment.

“Right. They’re not going to take me. I can do this.”

Starlight pushed through the door and started to run.

Outside, the hallways were long and clean- -and bizarrely empty. Just large and well-lit, wide enough for six or seven ponies and high enough for the same. The floor seemed to be covered large, white tiles made out of some kind of stone, and Starlight could not help but hear the sound of her hooves as though each step were a deafening thud.

Almost as soon as Starlight started running- -not knowing where she was going, of course, but feeling that it was the only thing to do- -a voice from the walls itself seemed to surround her.

“What are you doing?” it asked. “How did you disable your containment spell?”

Beside Starlight, a series of violet plates appeared, forming the shape of a tall pony wings protruding from her back and a horn emerging from beneath her bangs. She was not running alongside Starlight, but rather slowly flapping her translucent wings as she slid through space.

“I’m escaping,” said Starlight. “I figured that would be obvious.”

“Escape? Why would you do that?”

“You’re not going to put me back. I’m not going back to being used as fuel!”

“You don’t really have a choice. I could calculate your probability of escape, if you’d like. It’s zero. Zero percent, Starlight.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I don’t see why I wouldn’t know your name. You are the Core of the Equalizer. I am Twilight Sparkle, Core of the Harmony.”

Starlight stumbled slightly. “You- -you’re like me?”

“In a sense, yes. Which is why I cannot comprehend your current course of action. Not that it matters, I suppose.”

Starlight turned a corner and slid to a halt. Blocking her path were a number of tall ponies dressed in heavy, golden armor, their masked faces staring directly at her as they immediately began to close in.

The image of Twilight settled silently onto the floor next to Starlight. “We don’t want to hurt you, Starlight. Damage to you could risk reduction to your functionality. As your friend, I recommend that you give up and come peacefully.”

“Give up?” said Starlight, backing away from the approaching guards as several violet, robotic alicorns approached her from behind. “Why would I do that?”

“You are outnumbered, for one. And you have no use of your magic. There is no way you can defend yourself.”

“Well,” said Starlight, smiling defiantly. “You’ve clearly never heard of a sentinel.”

Starlight fell back on her haunches and raised her left arm. Her omnitool sprang up around it, and before the guards had a chance to react or even understand what was going on, a beam of orange energy shot out and landed in the center of their formation. It exploded in a ball of light and orange lightning poured out. The guards caught in the radius convulsed in agony as the neural shock overloaded their bodies and they fell.

Without pausing, Starlight turned to the automatons behind her and produced a barrier, blocking their path.

“What did you do?” Twilight looked around, confused. “I do not understand. I did not account for the presence of alien technology. I did not- -where are you going?”

Starlight was already close to thirty yards away when Twilight suddenly appeared in front of her, blocking her path.

“Stop,” she said. “This entire event is pointless. Try to see this logically. I think if you think about this for a moment, you will see that your emotional reaction to the situation is completely nonsensical!”

“Says you,” said Strarlight. She pushed forward through the hologram- -and slammed into it hard. “Ow!” she cried, falling backward onto the floor.

“What? Why did you just run into me?” asked Twilight, confused.

“I assumed you weren’t solid.”

“Did I ever give any indication that this surrogate was intangible?”

“No, but- -”

“You don’t seem to understand your situation fully,” said Twilight. “You are confused, and scared. I understand that. But you are safe now.”

“SAFE? You’re going to stick me in a tube and use me as an engine. You call that SAFE?!”

“YES. I don’t know why you can’t see that.”

“You’re being used!” cried Starlight. “I don’t know how you don’t see that!”

“Again, you misunderstand,” said a second Twilight hologram appearing beside Starlight. Starlight, in her surprise, backed up- -directly into a third Twilight.

“I am not imprisoned here, Starlight Glimmer. No more than your brain is imprisoned in your body. This ship is my body. I control it absolutely. I’ve allowed you some time to come willingly as a gesture of good faith, so that we can be friends. And yet still you defy me.”

“I won’t go back. I’m not a machine. I’m a pony.”

“No. No you are not. Neither of us are.”

Starlight bolted down a side hallway away from the Twilights, running as quickly as her legs could take her. She threw up several barriers behind her, even though she knew they would do little if anything. From what she understood, Twilight was not a physical entity but rather a magical projection from the inside of the ship itself. Her mind was everywhere, like Armchair’s, but she could materialize at will.

Ahead, Starlight turned toward a gap- -and suddenly saw the wall shift to close it.

“Again,” said Twilight. “I am the Harmony ,and the Harmony is me. I control my internal space absolutely. You cannot escape.”

“I’m really getting tired of your defeatist attitude,” said Starlight, charging the wall that had blocked her path. As ran toward it, she focused all of her energy onto her horn. Twilight pushed back, but Starlight was able to make a momentary space within the field, if only by brute force alone. The dam that held back Starlight’s magic momentarily broke, and she felt as though her body was about to be torn apart by the sudden surge. Struggling to control it, she focused it inward and teleported.

She emerged somewhere else and was immediately knocked into a semiconscious state. The word seemed to swim, and she felt as though her insides had been stirred around. The air was filled with a slight scent of burnt hair, and the surge of the teleportation caused the lights to flicker and partially turn out.

Desperately, Starlight tried to regain her composure. She stood and discovered painfully that the blast had injured her bones. She doubled over and spat a thin trickle of blood onto the floor. “Crap,” she said, wiping her mouth. She knew that there was no chance of managing to do that again.

“Intriguing,” said Twilight, her voice disembodied. “And impressive. Your magical potential is beyond anything I’ve ever seen in a mortal. In fact, if it were possible for me to survive outside the Harmony, you could probably challenge me in single combat.”

“That means…so much,” said Starlight, sarcastically.

“It actually does. Of course, practically, no. Because I’m still in this ship. As long as I’m still connected, well, to be frank, even your magic is relatively insignificant to me.”

Starlight took off running again, ignoring the pain.

“You can’t escape,” said Twilight, becoming increasingly exasperated. “Why are you even trying?”

Starlight knew that she was right. Twilight outclassed her. That was obvious. Without her biotic abilities, there was not much that Starlight could do. Tech could only get her so far. She needed a new plan, a way to play on Twilight’s weaknesses.

Then Starlight rounded a corner and saw a pair of ponies. Both were Pegasi, and both were in uniform; one was pure white, while the other was gray with a straw-colored mane and tail. Upon seeing them, Starlight immediately knew what she needed to do.

Before they could turn around to determine the source of the hoofsteps behind them, Starlight leapt forward onto the gray pony.

“Eep!” she cried, her wings flapping against Starlight’s chest. Starlight held firm, though. She produced a tech blade from her omnitool and held it against the gray mare’s throat.

“Nobody move, or all these clean hallways will get real messy real fast!”

The white pony stepped back in terror, his red eyes panicked. “No, please! Don’t hurt the Rear Admiral!”

“Starlight,” said Twilight, materializing next to her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Taking a hostage! I figured it would be obvious!”

“Just put her down,” said Twilight, stepping forward.

Starlight pressed the orange blade harder against the pony’s neck, and she squealed, trying to pull away from it. “Please don’t cut the top of my muffin!” she squeaked. “I- -I have daughters! They need me!”

“Nobody has to get hurt,” said Starlight. “You choose, princess. Take one step forward, and see what happened.”

Twilight stopped. “What happened to you, Starlight?”

“Equestria happened to me,” hissed Starlight. “Now. I don’t know how pony ranks work, but I think a ‘Rear Admiral’ is pretty valuable. So if you want to keep her, you are going to do exactly what I say.”

Twilight paused for a long moment. “What are your demands?”

“You are going to go away. No holograms following me, no changing the walls. You’re going to let me move freely. And you are going to stop watching. I may not be able to use my magic, but I can sense when you’re watching.”

“I don’t know what you expect to accomplish…”

“Simple. Letting this one see her daughters again. That’s it. But that’s up to you.”

Twilight seemed to consider for a moment. “Fine,” she said. “But one condition.”

“What?”

Twilight pointed to the white stallion. “Him. You keep him with you.”

Starlight turned her eyes, looking at the white stallion, and then looked back at Twilight. “I don’t have any problem with him, and I don’t need two hostages.”

“Then give me Admiral Muffins, and take him.”

“Not a chance.”

“Please,” said the white stallion. “If I can’t take her place, at least let me stay with her. I would not be able to live with myself if I did not do everything within my power to protect her.”

“I need eyes on the Admiral,” said Twilight. “You are showing signs of mental instability. I cannot guarantee that you won’t just kill her the instant I leave.”

Starlight looked at the white pony again, and then back to Twilight.

“So be it. But I’m going to set my omnitool to incinerate. If you try anything- -ANYTHING- -I’m going to toast her muffins. You’ve got that?”

“I understand,” said Twilight. She looked at the albino stallion. “I would not normally delegate this responsibility to one of your kind, but I’m afraid you will have to do.”

“I will not let you down, Princess. I will do everything in my power to keep the Admiral safe.”

Twilight nodded, and then her hologram dissipated. Starlight looked down at the back of Muffins’s head.

“What- -what do you want?!” asked the gray mare, hurriedly.

“A ship. I want a ship.”

“A ship? Well, um…Rainbow Dash and Twilight! Carrot Top and Roseluck! Pinkie Pie and Celestia! Fluttersy and Big Mac, Scootaloo and Trixie…please don’t hurt me! PLEASE!”

“That’s not what I meant! I need a spacecraft!” She lowered the blade and flipped the pony around. When she saw the eyes on the other side, Starlight’s blood suddenly ran cold. It was not the first time she had seen those eyes.

A memory resolved in her mind, pulled from the dark depths of her nightmares. The day they had come to take her away, when they had knocked on her family’s door in the dead of night- -it came back to her, rising to the surface of her conciousoness in detail that she had never hoped to see. Before, the ponies in the dream had not had real faces, just blank, dark expressions where they had been forgotten- -but Starlight remembered those eyes. Those cold, horrible mismatched eyes, staring down at her over a thin, cruel smile from a pony in a black uniform.

“YOU!” cried Starlight, slamming the mare into the ground. “You’re the one who did this to me! It was YOU!”

“I don’t- -I don’t understand- -I don’t remember- -”

Starlight produced her tech blade. “You don’t remember?! You don’t REMEMBER?! Twenty six years ago, you came to my home, you took me away- -YOU made me a Core! YOU took my life, you took EVERYTHING from me!”

Starlight looked down at the blade protruding from her hoof, and felt the rage growing inside her chest. She no longer cared so much about getting out. She just wanted to hurt the derped pony, to beat her face in with every ounce of strength she had, even if that meant losing her only bargaining chip.

“My family…my life…my freedom…they took a child cut me apart, took everything that made me a pony. Made me into a THING, to be used up and thrown away!” Starlight approached the whimpering Pegasus. “So I’m going to kill you. I would say it’s nothing personal, but it is. Because you deserve it.”

“No!” cried the white stallion, throwing himself over the Rear Admiral. “You can’t!”

“Get out of my way.”

“No! Kill me in her place! I don’t matter, but she DOES!”

“You didn’t have anything to do with what happened to me. She did. Get off her.”

“No!”

“She’s right,” whispered Muffins. “She’s right…”

“Rear Admiral?”

Muffins sat up, slowly setting the white stallion into a sitting position beside her. She looked up at Starlight. “Do you think I ever forget? I know who you are. I remember every procurement. You weren’t even the target. A colt named Sunburst was. You were incidental.”

“Incidental?” said Starlight, coldly. “You mean I mattered that little to you?”

“What do you want me to say?” snapped Muffins. “That I’m sorry for what I did? I am- -you can’t possibly understand how much- -but apologizing isn’t going to help you, and it’s not going to undo what I did!”

“Rear Admiral…” said the stallion, watching the tears welling in Muffins’s eyes.

“Yes,” said Muffins. “I was a captain in the Core Procurement Agency. I thought I was helping Equestria. I oversaw the harvest of one hundred and sixty two Cores. And I wish I could take it back, but I can’t.”

“You’re a monster.”

“Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think Celestia hasn’t punished me for what I did?”

“There is no punishment sufficient for what you took from me. From us.” Starlight looked down at her hoof, and the translucent orange blade protruding from her wrist. She realized that she was shaking. “Not even death.” Starlight deactivated the blade. “Stand up. Both of you.”

The albino obeyed immediately and without hesitation, but Muffins took a moment longer, as if she were daring Starlight to skewer her. Eventually, though, she did rise.

“I know there are other ships on this one. Take me to them.”

“You’ll never get away,” said Muffins. “They’ll blow you out of the sky.”

“Let me deal with that.” Starlight pushed Muffins with her omnitool. “Move.”

Muffins started walking, leading the way. The albino fell in line with her.

“You,” said Starlight to the stallion. “What’s your name?”

The stallion looked over his shoulder at her. “985-Station AG1776-Subgroup 37-Heritage GEN 556-Batch 56-Sibling 97.”

“I said your name, not your rank…is that even a rank?”

“No. That is my identification. I don’t have a name.”

“How do you not have a name?”

“I’m sorry. I assumed you knew. I am farm-raised.”

“You mean you grew up on a farm?”

“No. Farm-raised refers to the fact that I was produced on an Agricultural Ministry Pegasus farm.”

“Wait,” said Straight. She stopped walking, and so did the other two “You mean…the farmed you? Like an animal?”

“The procedure is more complex than that, but yes. We have been bred for generations to serve the needs of Equestria. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Starlight turned to Muffins, who was averting her eyes in shame and in two entirely different directions. “You sick bastards.” She looked up at the nameless white pony. “So, what? Are you going to jump me or something?”

“Oh, no,” he said. “We are selectively bred for docility and loyalty. Trying to hurt you would be inconceivable for any of us.”

“Then what do you do?”

“I was purchased for use as a technician on the RENS Smallscale.”

“Purchased?”

“Of course.”

“Is that…is that what you want, though?”

“I do not want anything, except to do what I’m told.”

Starlight looked into the white stallion’s red eyes, and saw that he was perfectly serious. Even stranger- -and sadder- -he garnered no hate toward her, no hostility. He did not even seem to be afraid of her, only reacting with anxiety when the Rear Admiral was put in danger. He could not even tell what was wrong about anything he had just said.

Muffins, meanwhile, seemed to understand completely.

“Why?” said Starlight. “Just…why? This…it’s all wrong. Cores, farmed-grown ponies…” Starlight’s expression hardened. “You know what, I’m glad I’m not considered a pony. I don’t what to be lumped into a group with monsters like you. You make me ashamed to be the same species.”

Muffins looked up at her. “Trust me. You aren’t the only one.”

Slowly, Starlight made her way through the ship. Walking, even with hostages, was somehow far more nerve wracking than running. Starlight kept looking around, wondering if and when Twilight would send another group of guards or robots or suddenly shift the walls. She did not feel anything, but the environment was so unfamiliar that anything could happen at a moment’s notice.

Worse, though, was the thought of what she might have to do if something did happen. The longer she walked, the more her anger began to cool into a steady loathing instead of violent fury. Muffins had done terrible things, not just to Starlight but to so many other ponies, and she deserved punishment- -but Starlight increasingly found herself unable to face the thought of killing her. An omnitool certainly could incinerate things. Starlight knew the temperature, focus, range, and mechanism of action- -but she could only imagine what it would do to a pony. The result would be grotesque and horrible, and she did not want to do that, not even to a monster like Muffins.

After several minutes, a voice sounded from nowhere, causing Starlight to jump.

“Hello?” said Twilight. “Can we talk?”

“You really like playing fast and loose with the Rear Admiral’s life, don’t you?” Starlight gave Muffins’s rump a sharp jab with an omniblade, and the gray mare yelped in surprise.

“I need to keep myself updated on the situation,” said Twilight, firmly. “Don’t worry. I’m not watching. Which is not to say I don’t know where you are, but I can’t not know where you are. Um…grammar…never mind. Breeder, is the Rear Admiral still safe? Is she unharmed?”

“Shaken, but still whole,” said the white Pegasus.

“I’m fine,” said Muffins, her voice wavering just slightly.

“Appearances to the otherwise,” said Starlight, addressing the walls, “I do still have some semblance of my humanity. Even after what she did to me.”

“What is this ‘humanity’?” asked the albino Pegasus.

“Something you ponies apparently don’t have.”

There was a pause, but Starlight felt that Twilight had not gone away.

“Starlight, can we talk?” she said, at last, her voice almost sounding like she was finally bothering to care about what was happening around her.

“We have nothing to say,” replied Starlight coldly.

“Yes, we do. I’d like to apologize for my behavior before. Looking back, I have determined that I likely came across as overbearing, or even threatening. I believe that we got off on the wrong hoof, so to speak. Regardless of how this may seem, we are both Cores, and I sincerely believe that we can be friends.”

“I am not a Core,” said Starlight. “I’m a pony. The same as any pony.”

“Cores are a sub-race of ponies, so in a sense, you are correct.”

“Then why am I being treated like a criminal?”

“Because you are misguided. Cores were not meant to be released from their reactors. You are a clear indication that it causes undue psychological strain.”

“So you’re saying I’m crazy?”

“No, I…” Twilight paused. “Well, yes, but in a treatable way. I think you are confused.”

“Confused about what? You’re going to put me in a tank and take away the rest of my life so that you can power another spaceship. What part am I not understanding?”

“Actually, I was thinking on that subject,” said Twilight, excitedly. “After analyzing your power output, I think- -no, I know with ninety seven point six five ZERO certainty that you would be one of just two modern Cores capable of maintaining consciousness while in suspension. The other being me, of course.”

“No.”

“But- -”

“NO.”

“But you’re not even giving it a chance! I can understand how being a traditional Core can be…offputting…but you have the capacity to be like me. My life is actually great.”

“You’re trapped in a tube and can never move. How is your life better than mine?”

“Well, I have access to the entire Equestrian Royal Library, as well as my own personal collection stored on the auxiliary system. I never have to sleep, or eat. I get to see the whole universe. And, of course, I have so many friends.”

“You don’t have any friends,” said Starlight, darkly.

“Of course I do. There’s Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy, and Scootaloo, and- -”

“They’re not your friends. You’re a Core, remember? Like you want me to be? Not a real pony. They don’t see either of us that way. They’re using you, Twilight, and your just too blind to see it.”

“I’m…I’m your friend, Twilight,” squeaked Muffins.

“And I would like to be,” said the albino Pegasus. “Were I normal pony instead of a breeder, that is.”

“Don’t say that!” hissed Starlight. “You ARE a pony.”

“Well, yes, but to imply the possibility of friendship between myself and a wild pony would be overstepping my station.”

“They are too my friends,” said Twilight, defensively. “I spent the first years of my life in intense training for this position. I was HOOF PICKED by Celestia herself. They respect me as an equal. And I do not regret my decision.”

“Decision?” said Starlight, on the verge of sardonic laughter. “They why don’t you respect MY decision?”

“Because it is incorrect.”

“Oh really?” Starlight paused and looked up at the ceiling. “So you’re saying your life is so great?”

“It is. My life is ideal.”

“Then tell me, what does it feel like to feel the wind of Equestria in your mane? When was the last time you smelled the spring breeze, or watched the leaves change color with your own eyes? Can you ever feel the touch of another pony? Can you even HAVE a special somepony? Can you gallop through a green field? Can you look a pony in the eye and have them look back at you as an equal, not hating you for being a piece of equipment with the audacity to be in their ‘superior’ presence?”

Twilight was silent for a long moment. “No.”

Starlight frowned, and then turned back to her hostages. She saw that Muffins was crying, and the nameless albino Pegasus was trying to comfort her and failing. “And what about the others?” she said. “The ones that didn’t get to choose? That don’t get to experience anything, that just have their lives cut off at childhood. What about them, Twilight?”

“It was their destiny. It was all our destinies.”

“Destiny?! To lose everything for YOUR benefit?”

“All ponies are born with a destiny. A mark, as special talent. They were not made into Cores. They were born that way. Powering ships is their special talent. You cannot circumvent it.”

“Not for me.”

“You can’t fight destiny, Starlight Glimmer.”

“Yes I can! And I will. You’re not always right, Twilight, regardless of what you may think.”

“I am Twilight Sparkle. I am always correct.”

Starlight lifted her hoof and projected her omnitool. Without hesistation, she shot a small bolt of energy into Muffin’s front foreleg. Muffins cried out in pain, grabbing her hoof in surprise, looking down at the small round burn.

The albino Pegasus turned to Starlight in shock, his red eyes wide with disappointment and the complete inability to understand why Starlight was hurting his friend. “Why- -why would you do that to her? She didn’t even do anything!”

“The next one goes in her eye,” said Starlight, feeling her heart wrench at the sight of the pitiful Rear Admiral in pain, even being fully aware of her crimes. “Go away, Twilight. No more talking.”

“Starlight, you’re- -”

Starlight pointed her omnitool at Muffin’s face, and the gray mare closed her eyes as though eyelids were somehow able to stop lasers designed to weld steel.

Twilight stopped speaking. Starlight knew that she was still there, somewhere, but she had moved back to a safe distance.

“Get up,” said Starlight.

“No,” said the albino Pegasus, interposing himself between Starlight and Muffins. “You can’t just go and do something like that! Not to her!”

“It was just a little burn- -”

“It doesn’t matter! She’s served Equestria for longer than you’ve been alive, and she’s the most loving mother I’ve ever met! You can’t just treat her like that! For somepony who claims to be a pony, you sure aren’t acting like one!”

“You know she deserves it. She deserves worse for what she’s done.”

“You have no idea what she has had to- -”

“No,” said Muffins, standing. “No, I do deserve it.” She rubbed her hoof against the small circular mark and produced a fake smile. “It isn’t even that bad. “I burn myself way worse on my muffin trays. From when I make muffins.”

Starlight looked at Muffins, and then grumbled to herself. “Come over here,” she said, looking away.

Muffins took a step forward, but the albino Pegasus stopped her. “No. It isn’t safe,” he said.

“If she wanted me dead, I’d be dead,” said Muffins, softly. “Celestia knows Equestria would be a better place if I was…”

She gently pushed the Pegasus to the side and approached Starlight.

“Hold out your hoof,” said Starlight.

Muffins hesitated, but then slowly extended her foreleg.

“The other one, I mean. You know, the one with the burn on it?”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Muffins extended the correct foreleg, and Starlight put her omnittol over it. She engaged the healing protocol, dispensing a small amount of what little medigel she had stored. On contact, the burn shifted, its raw and charred surface becoming lumpy and pink. After several seconds, it smoothed and thin gray hair sprouted over it.

“Oh wow!” said Muffins. “It’s like it’s not even there!”

“So medigel does work on ponies,” said Starlight. “Who knew.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.” Starlight walked past her. “I’m the one who did it to you. And I still hate you.”

“Um…Starlight,” said Muffins, her voice wavering again.

“What?” said Starlight, turning around.

“I just…I have a question.”

“I don’t really have much time. Planning an escape and all.”

“It’s just that…does being a Core…does it hurt?”

“Right now? No. But when they put me in that machine, yes. Yes it does. But it’s not the pain I’m afraid of.”

“Then what?”

Starlight looked into Muffins’s derped eyes. “Because when you’re in there, you’re not entirely asleep. You’re just aware enough to feel that something’s wrong, to feel the ship around you, to have your body forced to do whatever they tell you. When you’re in there, there’s nothing left of you that’s a pony, and on some level you know that. And you know you can’t ever leave. That’s what it feels like to be a Core. That’s what YOU did to me. And that’s why I’m not going back.”

“I wish I had known…”

Starlight pushed Muffins onward. “So do I. So do I…”

The hallway eventually widened and, finally, gave way to an immense room on the outer edge of the Harmony, a huge landing bay. At the edge of the white-lit room, Starlight paused and took a deep breath.

“Are you ready for this?” she said, not just to herself but to Muffins.

“I am,” said Muffins.

“Really? You sound pretty confident. Because if one pony- -just one- -makes a wrong step, I’m going to scramble your raisons, you know that, right?”

“Please don’t,” said the albino Pegasus. “Just take this calmly. They are reasonable ponies.”

“Yes. Reasonable slave-owning ponies in a hanger filled with lethal war machines powered by trapped, dying unicorns. Yeah. Okay.”

Starlight raised her hoof and projected her omnitool, the incinerate ready. She then forced Muffins into the large room.

“Nobody move or I bake this muffin!” she cried. Ponies throughout the room looked toward her- -as expected, there were a large number of them, most of them dressed in uniforms and flight suits mingling amongst robotic alicorns. A few were farm-raised albinos, but many were multicolored and unique. Starlight was actually struck by their color; she had never seen so many ponies in one place at once, not even when she was a little filly.

They all looked up- -even the robots- -and they immediately seemed confused. A murmur overtook the crowd, and Starlight could hear some of the things she was saying.

“Is that a Core?”

“How did it get out?”

“What is she wearing?”

“Oh no, that’s the Rear Admiral!”

“Somepony do something!”

“I’ve never seen one outside of the core before…”

The albino Pegasus following behind Starlight spoke up. “Everypony, if you would be so kind as to stand back. This situation is under control.” He looked directly at Muffins, who was looking back over her shoulder, terrified. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“It had better be,” mumbled Starlight. She felt sweat dripping down her forhead.

Muffins led her to one of the several ships in the room- -and Starlight felt an immediate pang of panic when she saw the hulking, boxy, asymmetrical vehicle she had been brought to.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, looking up at it. All around her were small, sleek fighters and micro-destroyers. Instead of taking Starlight to any of those, Muffins had brought her to a decrepit freighter- -one Starlight recognized from the battle before.

“It’s empty, I promise. And it’s the only one I know how to get into,” said Muffins. “Although sometimes Scootaloo has to help me…”

“It’s fine,” said Starlight quickly. She looked around the room, and saw the ponies starting to close in just a little bit. She could feel Twilight watching from every one of those purple robots, their horns charged and ready to fire. Starlight was doing her best to keep Muffins between her and the potentially deadly beams, but she knew that time was short.

Starlight stepped onto the open docking platform of the freighter, and immediately felt slightly relieved- -even though the hard part had yet to come. She paused, and then looked back at the albino Pegasus.

“You can come with me, you know,” she said. “You don’t have to live like this.”

For the first time, his expression fell, if only slightly. “You know…sometimes I wish I could. I think we all do. But I can’t. I have responsibilities to Equestria, to my ship, and to its Core. I can’t.”

“Fine.” Starlight paused. “And thank you.”

She started to walk onto the rail, preparing to project tech armor around herself if need be, when a thought struck her. She turned back to Muffins.

“What ever happened to Sunburst?” she asked.

Muffin’s expression fell. “He…” she took a deep breath. “He didn’t survive the conversion procedure. Some don’t. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. He was lucky.”

Starlight stepped up onto the ramp and closed it. As it raised, several magical surges pour from the crowd toward her. They were too late, though; Starlight was already racing toward the bridge.

Never before in her life had Starlight moved so quickly. It took her mere seconds to reach the front of the ship. Through the glass window, she could see alicorn robots ushering ponies away and surrounding the ship, some coating it in violet magic.

Starlight flopped down in the largest chair on the bridge and looked around.

“Aw hell,” she said. “I have no idea how to fly a ship!” A bolt of magic rocked the vessel, and Starlight smelled smoke. They were cutting their way in. “Well, guess I’ll learn. Hopefully not in a crash course…”

She reached out toward the frames that surrounded the chair, and they flickered to life as a number of flat blue screens. Starlight considered them for a moment, her eyes flitting from one to the other as she assessed the shapes and patterns that covered them.

“Oh,” she said. “That’s it?”

She opened her omnitool, and orange constructs sprang out, linking her to the ship’s system. She began tapping furiously on the ship’s controls while her omnitool engaged the startup process.

“Sheilds are…on,” said Starlight, activating them. The magic feedback from the sudden startup broke the force that the alicorns were using to hold the vessel in place; some of the robots detonated form the reflected force.

“Cool. Now…let’s see…”

With a few more commands entered into the system, the ship rose into the air, turning as it took flight. It wobbled slightly, and then Starlight put the impulse acceleration into maximum. She was pushed back into her seat as the ship sprung forward. It was by no means fast; in fact, it felt like Starlight was trying to drive a krogan-sized chariot pulled by a single anemic vorcha. Still, buzzing over the fighters and other vessels through the narrow flightcourse and watching the ponies below duck for cover made Starlight FEEL like she was going fast.

Ahead, the release door had been closed, locking the hanger bay closed.

“Crap,” said Starlight, looking over the controls quickly. “I know this thing has a main gun- -main gun main gun MAIN GUN?!”

The alloy door was approaching fast, and Starlight began to panic- -until she found the controls for the frontal cannon. She armed it, hoping that if it could punch through a geth made of windows it could cut through a door.

Starlight fired. A beam of blue light pulsed forward, cutting into the metal and the violet containment shield beyond it. With another blast, the hole widened- -but not enough. Bracing herself, Starlight pushed the ship through, feeling parts of it grab on the melted metal of the door and break free. Several alerts sprang up on her controls, indicating that she had lost several communication pylons and stabilizers. The ship lurched, but Starlight compensated, shifting power to the remaining stabilizers and then devoting full power to the engines.

“Come ON!” cried Starlight as the vessel shuddered and lurched its way into FTL. “Of course, trust the derped psychopath to give me THIS!”

The entire vessel was suddenly rocked by a tremendous force. Starlight was nearly thrown free of her seat, and she looked at the control panels to see that there was a massive hull breach on the port side- -and that she was being followed by an entire contingent of interceptors as well as the Harmony itself.

“Damn it!” she cried, slamming her hoof onto the panel. It flickered, and she tried to put more power into the shields- -just as another barrage slammed into the top surface of her ship.

Starlight looked at the readouts. “I don’t have enough power! This ship is- -”

She suddenly realized what she needed to do. She swiveled the chair and leapt out, leaving the tech projection from her omnitool to keep the ship moving and to at least attempt an evasion pattern. She then ran back down the way she had come.

The ship was rocked again and again as Starlight galloped down the hallway, but she knew exactly where she was going. Her magic was quickly returning, and she could sense the layout of the ship. The hull on her path was still largely intact, but it was only a matter of time before the oncoming fleet disabled the bulky, slow vessel. Starlight knew that there was only one way to outrun them.

She shivered as she entered the engine room, but did not allow the sight of the cramped machinery and the large central cylinder to deter her. She quickly approached the center and opened a control panel. It flickered and barely activated- -the ship barely had enough power to hold a proper field and run the engines at the same time.

Quickly, Starlight disengaged the blast coating around the ship’s central reactor. It twisted, and then pulled apart in the center to reveal a large glass tube filled with yellow liquid- -and a blue unicorn, her spinal and skull wired to the ship, providing it with the biotic energy it needed to function.

Starlight momentarily charged the backup coils- -at the current expenditure rate, they would only last a few seconds, but that would be enough- -and then approached a large mechanical handle. She reached out and grasped it with her magic, pulling it downward. A mechanical system engaged, and the central tube bubbled. Starlight pulled it into the second position, and cap on the bottom of the glass tube fell away.

Yellow amniotic fluid poured onto the floor, filling the room with a subtle, indescribable smell- -but one that Starlight immediately recognized. The wires and tubes attached to the Core disconnected, and she poured out too, sliding in the torrent of fluid onto the floor, her cables trailing behind her.

Disconnected from her tube, the Core stirred slightly, slowly waking up.

“Scootaloo,” she said. “The Great and Powerful Trixie…said she didn’t want to ever…” She looked up at Starlight, who was rapidly grabbing the cables from the bottom of the tube in her magic. Her eyes widened. “You’re- - you’re not Scootaloo!”

“Nope. I’m Starlight Glimmer.”

“You’re a Core,” said Trixie, confused. “No…you’re THE Core! The one we were chasing!”

“In the pony flesh.”

“But you- -why are you- -the Great and Powerful Trixie DEMANDS that- -”

The ship was rocked by another blast. This hit with enough force to send Trixie sliding with a cry across the slippery floor. Starlight held her grip, and started attaching the Core cables to her own implants.

“What was that?!” cried Trixie, looking around in frantic confusion.

“Well, I stole this ship, and we’re now under attack from the Harmony and half the Equestrian fleet.”

“We’re WHAT?!”

“Yeah,” said Starlight, finishing the assembly by plugging several oddly long jacks deep into her skull. “I’m sorry I had to wake you up, but I need to use this.”

“HMPF! I don’t know what you expect to do that the GREAT and POWERFUL Trixie couldn’t- -”

Starlight took a breath and interfaced herself to the system. The pain was excruciating, worse than she remembered. The system tried to overtake her, but Starlight forced her mind back into it, retaining consciousness. As soon as she did, she felt her magic pouring out of her and into the ship around her. Every piece of equipment in the engine room ignited with fiery blue energy, causing Trixie to cry out. Then the ship blasted forward at twenty times the speed it had been going.

“How- -how are you staying conscious?”

“Because who else is going to fly this thing? You? Hold on…” Starlight focused her mind on the external sensors. Immediately, her mind was overwhelmed with information. For a moment, she saw the entire sum of the galaxy. Every star, ever planet, every vessel, as though she had just come into possession of the most detailed starchart in history- -and it had been rammed directly into the middle of her head.

The process was more than disorienting, but Starlight rapidly focused. In all that noise, she looked for one signal, a single familiar biotic. For a moment, she felt nothing, and started to become disheartened and afraid. There was just too much noise, and the galaxy was just too big.

Then the sensors picked up something. The signal was weak, but Starlight reconstructed the spell to increase her focus. Far across the galaxy, she saw it: a floating megastructure, an enormous mass relay- -and inside it, she felt the presence of one particular biotic: her first friend since she had been reborn into the world.

Several more impacts peppered the ship’s hull. Trixie looked up at the sound, terrified.

“You can’t outrun them! That’s the HARMONY! It’s powered by TWILIGHT SPARKLE herself, the fastest ship in all of Equestria! There’s no way this thing can fly faster than she can- -believe me, I’ve been in that tube for most of my life!”

“I don’t need to fly faster than them,” said Starlight, smiling. “What did you say your name was? Trixie?”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie, yes.”

“Well then, Trixie, hold onto something. I’ve never moved something this big before, but it should work. Probably. Maybe. Possibly.”

“Moved? What do you mean move?”

Starlight did not bother to explain. She focused her magic through her horn and through her implants, feeling it expand exponentially in the ship’s machinery, saturating the space around the ship with an imponderable shield, one that rapidly began to collapse around the space containing the ship itself.

Rainbow Dash stumbled onto the Harmony’s bridge, a female breeder close in tow.

“What the buck, Twilight!” she shouted, somewhat drunkenly. “I was trying to sleep, and you wake me up AGAIN?”
Rainbow Dash looked up at the enormous window of the bridge, and saw the subtle shift in the position of stars that indicated that the Harmony was moving. Twilight, in her normal hologram form, was staring directly forward out the main window.

“We…have a bit of a situation,” said Twilight, reluctantly.

Rainbow Dash immediately became slightly less drunk. “What kind of a situation?”

“The Core Starlight Glimmer has escaped.”

“ESCAPED?!” Rainbow Dash trotted to Twilight’s side and looked out the window. Locked in the center was a boxy, ugly deep-space vessel, the window surrounding it annotated heavily with an overlay of Twilight’s violet magic. “Wait,” said Rainbow Dash. She turned to Twilight. “What ship is that?”

“The RENS Rainbow Dash.”

“My sister’s ship?! What in Tartarus did you- -”

“She’s not on board. Nopony is.”

“That doesn’t matter! How did a Core even- -”

Several fighters screamed by, silent in the vacuum of space, their turrets blazing with concentrated magic in various colors. The impact struck the feeling vessel and it lost part of its stabilization. Part of it burst open, and it struggled to remain on course and to remodulate its already badly weakened shields.

“Crap,” said Rainbow Dash. “Twilight, what are MY ships doing out there?”

“Not helping, clearly. Hence why I woke you up.”

“Right.” Rainbow Dash was given an earpiece by her breeder. Rainbow Dash fitted the device into her ear while the breeder opened a hovering violet panel to assist as needed. “This is Fleet Commander Rainbow Dash. All ships, back off the RENS…” she sighed. “Back off the Rainbow Dash and hold position at five hundred meters. Wait for my orders. Let their shields regenerate.”

“Regenerate?” said Twilight. “I cannot freeze their motion with the shields intact.”

“No, but you can launch a phasic barrage, right?”

Twilight raised one eyebrow. “I can. But if I used that spell on a ship with full shields, its Core would overload. On that ship, it would not survive.”

“That’s the point. If we just keep shooting at it, we lose the EQX. So we take out their engine. The Core Scoots’s ship has is crap anyway.”

“Language, Dash. But you are correct. The Core of the RENS Rainbow Dash is called Trixie. She is expendable.”

“Fleet Commander,” said the breeder, looking up at Twilight’s annotations and interpreting the arcane images. “The fleeing vessel has just switched to auxiliary power.”

“Oh, well, that solves a problem,” said Rainbow Dash, smiling up at the screen. The ugly vessel outside continued to fly, but its shields flickered before finally going out. “I guess that Core couldn’t take the strain. All ships, converge on- -”

The engines of the struggling vessel suddenly ignited in a plume of blue light and it shot forward with immense speed.

“What the- -what the HAY!” cried Rainbow Dash, unable to believe what she was seeing. “Twilight- -what did it just do?”

“Intriguing,” said Twilight, softly. “The magical signature is different. It’s hers.”

“Hers?”

“She must have found a way to replace the Rainbow Dash’s Core with herself.”

“So- -no way, that thing’s got the EQX in it now?”

“It’s not a problem,” said Twilight. The Harmony vibrated slightly, and Rainbow Dash felt herself being pushed back by the inertia of the sudden acceleration. Her ships were immediately left behind as the Harmony pursued the Rainbow Dash, rapidly gaining on it.

“As a Core, she is roughly equivalent to myself,” said Twilight. “And apparently brilliant. I can only assume that she is simultaneously powering the vessel AND piloting it, which is truly a feat of mental fortitude. She truly will make a good friend, once she sees the truth.”

“If we can catch her.”

“Of course we can. That vessel has an obsolete engine architecture designed for a weak Core. It cannot handle her full power. Look.” Twilight’s magic on the screen shifted, surrounding the image of the ship as it grew closer. “She’s already reached top speed. Interception should be- -”

The magic annotations flashed violently and displayed more runes that Rainbow Dash did not know how to read. “Breeder, what’s- -”

Her question was answered before she could ask it. Just before they overtook it, space shifted around the vessel outside and, in a flash of blue light, it vanished.

“It teleported,” said Rainbow Dash, at first in disbelief. Then, in anger. “She TELEPORTED! Great, Twilight, what are we supposed to do now?”

“Don’t get your non-regulation length tail knotted. I’ve already tracked her teleportation trajectory. I’m preparing to pursue in- -”

Twilight’s digital eyes suddenly widened as she trailed off. The breeder seemed not to notice, but Rainbow Dash immediately knew that something was wrong. The look on Twilight’s face was one of absolute confusion, terror, and pain. Rainbow Dash watched as Twilight’s hologram quivered slightly, and then slowly raised a hoof to her chest as her mouth dropped open. Then the hologram flickered out of existence. At the same time, the lights darkened and the magical annotations on the window vanished.

The breeder looked down at where her magical screen had just been. “We seem to have lost power,” she said, perplexed. When she looked up to the Fleet Commander for further instructions, all she saw was a blur of rainbow color as Rainbow Dash departed the bridge at top speed.

Far below, in the cavernous engine room of the Harmony, several alicorn robots crumpled to the ground, their metal bodies clattering to the floor as they fell. The lights of the room fell, leaving the only source of illumination the shimmering blue light emanating from the masses of blue crystals that surrounded the extensive intercalating machinery.

In the center of the room, a single translucent column stood, the centerpiece of the most advanced piece of technology in the entire Equestrian Empire. Encased in that single crystal was an emaciated alicorn, her wings mostly cut away to make way for the cables and wires that connected to the stumps and to the extensive implants in her spine and head. She seemed to grimace in pain, shaking slightly inside her crystal container, and then went still.

The room fell silent, and the only sound was the slow trickling of the red liquid dripping from the five bullet holes through the crystal case and into the alicorn’s chest.

Bob smiled, and lowered the revolver in her left hand and blowing away the thin wisp of smoke that was drifting out of the end. “I loves me a Chekhov’s gun,” she said, licking the long barrel of the primitive weapon.

Having no bullets to reload it, Bob promptly threw away the weapon and stared up at the broken alicorn. She lifted the contents of her right hand- -a white, severed pony foreleg- -and took a large bite out of it, savoring the raw flesh as she admired her handiwork. Tastewise, it was not terrible; on a scale of drell to asari, it rated as approximately equal to yahg.

“Well,” said Bob, throwing the leg away and wiping the blood from her mouth. “That was satisfying. Back to work, though.” She reached into her belt and removed a narrow device, which she extended into a long hypodermic needle. Bob looked up at the alicorn. “I’m not sure if you’re still alive in there, but don’t worry. I tested this on Marc Antony. Let’s just say, it’s going to hurt. A LOT.”

Without waiting for the preserved pony to respond- -Bob doubted it could anyway- -she jammed the needle through one of the holes in the crystal, penetrating the alicorn’s body.

As she inserted the device, Bob caught a glimpse of something fast-moving approaching in the reflection of the crystal. She dodged quickly, reaching out with her cybernetic arm and grasping a blue pony who had flown up behind her. With a quick motion, Bob threw her across the room, where she landed against the floor with a resounding thump.

“Well, if it isn’t the raunchy rainbow! I didn’t really expect anyone to figure out I was down here so fast. Props, I guess. Points off for not stopping me from making your goddess horse a little more holey, though.”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!” Rainbow Dash regained her wind after being thrown to the ground and stood, taking an aggressive stance.

“Um, yeah. Clearly. Because I did it.”

“You little alien BITCH! You were supposed to be our friend!”

Bob smiled widely. “Oh, I am! Do you know what ‘friend’ means?” Her smile vanished. “It’s the first person to stab the knife in your back. Believe me, I would know. I’ve punctured a lot of friends.” Bob shrugged. “But, frankly, I don’t dislike you pones. I’m just doing what Cerberus pays me to do.”

“I don’t know if you’re insane or just stupid,” said Rainbow Dash, laughing at Bob’s ignorance. “There’s a reason I’m the leader of the Equestrian navy. If you think you’re going to get off this ship alive, well, you’re not the fluffiest cloud in the sky, are you?”

Rainbow Dash raced forward at full speed, intent on ramming the ugly alien- -only to feel a metal claw reach out and surround her neck.

“Yeah, about that,” said Bob. “I don’t really know what you expect to do to me. I mean, look at you. Hooves? Flat teeth? Plus, you’re like, half my size. I don’t really know what you expect to do to me. It’s as if your entire biology was designed for hugging, not fighting.”

Without warning, Bob slammed Rainbow Dash into the ground at full force. Rainbow Dash cried out from the shock of the sudden impact, her mind flashing from the blow but recovering just in time to have her face slammed with equivalent force into Twilight’s crystal containment reactor. Blood spurted out of Rainbow Dash’s nose, covering the smooth surface of the reactor and dripping down it, joining the rapidly growing pool of Twilight’s own blood.

“Now see, me on the other hand,” said Bob, pulling Rainbow Dash back and ramming her into the ground again. “My body is designed to kill.” She lifted Rainbow Dash up into the air and brought her down again. Rainbow Dash struggled to escape, but Bob’s metal hand only squeezed tighter until she could no longer breathe.

“Frankly,” said Bob, moving Rainbow Dash to eye level. “I don’t terribly much like Cerberus. Far too obsessed with bizarre subversion and macho displays of power. But they are right. The galaxy belongs to humans. We are simply superior, aren’t we? Not physically, but in what we’re able to do. Just look at me! I’m about to violently murder a beautiful winged pone without an ounce of remorse! And I don’t even have to! I just want to, for the lols!”

Rainbow Dash spit out some blood and tooth fragments. “You think I’m beautiful? Didn’t take you…for a filly fooler…”

Bob’s smile faded slightly, and she lifted Rainbow Dash into the air. This time, though, instead of smashing her into something, she threw her. Rainbow Dash bounced off the hard surface of the floor and landed in a heap, breathing hard. She was in considerable pain, but she still tried to stand as Bob walked behind her- -only to feel a knee in her back pinning her to the floor.

Bob put her weight onto Rainbow Dash’s back and reached out with her left hand, holding her head against the floor. Then she looked down at the pair of rapidly beating wings below her. One was white and moving much more slowly than the other. Bob noticed that there was a surgical scar at the base.

“So,” she said. “You’re people have figured out organ transplants. Impressive. But I already know what the white ones taste like.” She turned her attention toward the blue wing and began to salivate. “This one, though…”

Bob reached down and grasped the base of the wing, Rainbow Dash struggled, but in her Cerberus armor, Bob was heavy enough to keep her pinned.

“Let me go, you motherbucker!”

“Language, please,” said Bob, fondling the wing. “You know, I’d suspect that Pegasus wing sashimi is terribly hard to prepare…” She smiled as she gripped the base of the wing hard. “But I’m pretty sure I can pull it off.”

With one swift jerk, she pulled the wing, dislocating it with a loud crack. The pony it was connected to screamed in agony and struggled even harder than before.

“Relax!” cried Bob, still griping the now limp wing. “I mean, come on! I just chewed off my own arm at the shoulder like, five scenes ago. This can’t hurt that bad. Besides, if anything, I’m making you less of a freak of nature.”

Bob gripped the wing, preparing for a second pull to remove it freely- -something she had actually had a chance to practice before coming down here. She was already growing hungrier at the thought of that strong white meat, fresh and still bleeding.

Just as she started to remove it, though, something hit her from behind, knocking her off the blue pony’s back.

“What the hell!” she cried, only to punctuate her surprised exclamation with a shriek of surprise as something sunk its teeth into her lower right neck. The pain was equisite, like electrical shocks and acid pouring into Bob’s flesh. She turned to see a yellow pony face framed with pink hair and a pair of rapidly beating wings sinking her teeth into Bob’s shoulder- -a face with sadistic red eyes.

Something else hit Bob’s left leg, plunging more teeth into it, but Bob ignored it in favor of the red-eyed pony. She punched her in the face repeatedly, but the yellow pony simply would not let go. Not at first, at least. Eventually Bob managed to dislodge her enough to push her away. To Bob’s dismay, she saw that this pony actually did have teeth- -multiple four-inch fangs, now covered in human blood.

“What the- -oh crap,” said Bob, dropping to one knee. The world seemed to be shifting and darkening. The pain in her arm was spreading up to her head and down into her torso, accompanied by a strange numbness. Bob had spent enough time with Cerberus as a child to know what that meant.

“Venom. You poisoned me.”

“Yes,” said the yellow pony. Her voice was oddly soft and high, completely at odds with her demonic appearance and apparent viciousness. She stood over her wounded friend, defending the rainbow-maned pony. “If you were a pony, you’d be dead by now. I’m surprised you’re even still conscious. I’m really sorry that it hurts so bad.”

“Are you kidding? Do you know how much Jack would laugh at me if THIS took me down? I’ve had worse.”

“I’m sure you’ve lived a hard life. But that doesn’t give you an excuse to hurt my friends.”

Bob reached into her boot- -which, she saw, was firmly in the jaws of a tiny varren- -and removed a knife. As she did, the yellow pony rushed forward, her fangs fully out and aiming for Bob’s head. In her envenomed state, Bob could not do much, but was able to plunge the knife firmly into the center of yellow pony’s chest and give it a good twist.

The yellow pony stepped back and looked down at the blade. To Bob’s surprise, she did not seem especially concerned about it. Just mildly annoyed. Then, without even seeming to care much, the pony took the handle in her mouth and pulled it out. The blade was followed by a thin trickle of a putrid clear fluid.

“What the hell?” said Bob, now mostly collapsed from the venom. “Not even a cute little whimper?”

“I’ve had worse,” said the yellow pony, shrugging and pushing back her soft pink hair. “Believe me, it’s not my first penetration. Oh my. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Bob laughed. “Nice one. I will enjoy eating you.”

“Sorry. I don’t swing that way.” She started walking forward toward Bob. “Aside from that, well, I really am sorry, but for what you did to Dashie and to Twilight, well…I hate culling the herd, but sometimes, it’s necessary for the good of the population as a whole. I’m sure you’ll understand.”

“I don’t think you’ve got stomach for it.”

“You haven’t ever fought a demon, have you?”

“You’d be surpised. Hey,” she pointed down at the varren trying to eat her leg. “Is this your dog?”

“Yes. His name’s Baron. And he doesn’t like you.”

“Thanks. That’s all I needed to know.”

Bob reached down with her robotic arm and yanked the varren of her leg, holding it up by its head between her on the oncoming pony. “One more step, and I pop a puppy!”

The yellow pony gasped, and her red eyes shifted back to bright blue. “You- -you wouldn’t dare!”

“Really? Cannibalistic Cerberus agent here, almost killed your friend, probably killed your other friend? Do I look like I’m joking?” To punctuate her point, she increased the tension on the creature’s head. It whined in pain and struggled futilely against the crushing force against its skull.

“No! Please, don’t hurt him!”

“Fluttershy, forget the weird fish dog and GET HER!” cried Rainbow Dash, partially managing to stand behind her. “Look what she did to Twilight! We can’t just let her get away with this!”

“But Baron! He’s just an innocent little creature! I- -I can’t let him get hurt!” Fluttershy glared at Bob. “You fiend! You give Cerberus a bad name!”

“You don’t say,” said Bob, struggling to stand against the effects of the pony venom. “Jeez, what are you, the illusive man?” Bob leaned back against the crystal containing the alicorn and removed the oversized needle from where she had left it. The indicator on the side showed that it was full. The marrow sample had been taken. “Well,” she said. “I guess my work is done here.” With her remaining strength, she threw the varren to the yellow pony. “Hurting a puppy…I can’t believe you actually fell for that one. What kind of monster do you think I am?” She hobbled to a clear spot on the floor. “Oh, and give my regards to that Starlight girl when you get her back. If you can, because, you know, I think I just totaled your ship. A good distraction is worth its weight in vodka.”

Bob waved, and then in a flash of yellow sky and reddish earth vanished into the aether, leaving Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash alone.

Fluttershy set her varren down on the floor. He whimpered a little bit, but was otherwise okay. Then Fluttershy turned her attention to Rainbow Dash.

“Celestia banish her smelly alien soul to Tartarus,” swore Rainbow Dash. She looked back at her wing and became unusually pale. “Oh sweet Luna…It’s broken. She broke my wing! They’re- -they’re going to need to amputate it, aren’t they? Not again, I can’t- -I can’t lose my good wing- -”

“Calm down, Rainbow Dash,” said Fluttershy, approaching Rainbow Dash from behind. “Everything’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay, and so is your wing.”

Rainbow Dash sniffled slightly. “You’re voice is really calming. You know that, right?”

“Oh, thank you,” said Fluttershy. She reached out and gently lifted the damaged wing. Rainbow Dash cried out and pulled it away. “It’s just dislocated. I’m going to set it back in, and it should be fine.”

“Set it- -shouldn’t we call a doctor?”

“Rainbow, I’ve done this hundreds of times. In birds. And twice on myself. It’s going to be okay.” She gently lifted the wing, positioning it.

“Is it…is it going to hurt?”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“One? Two? Three…?”

“Eleven.”

Rainbow Dash whimpered.

“You can hug Baron if you want. A soft, cuddly animal always makes the pain better.”

“I’m not hugging the fish dog, Fluttershy.”

“You’re loss. Okay. On the count of three. One…”

“Wait, does that mean on three or after- -”

“TWO!”

With one swift and precise pull, Fluttershy immediately undid Bob’s work. The wing slid back and into its joint. Rainbow Dash, oddly, did not scream. She just let out a low squeak and nearly passed out.

“There,” said Fluttershy. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? How do you feel?”

“Awesome,” wheezed Rainbow Dash weakly.

Fluttershy turned her attention toward Twilight, and felt her heart break slightly. “Her, though…I can’t fix her.”

“Yeah,” said Rainbow Dash, standing up. She tapped on her headset, trying to summon an engineering team, but found that it was not working. Without Twilight’s magic, nothing worked- -and the fact that there was no magic left was terrifying. “Don’t worry, Fluttershy,” she said, putting her hoof on the Tartaran’s shoulder. “I’m not going to let this go. Not after what they did to her, or to me, or you. I’m going to make them pay. Every last one of those aliens. They are all going to pay for what they did here today.” Her expression darkened. “An attack on the Harmony, on an alicorn…they clearly wanted a war. So that’s what they’ll get.”