Jack leaned over the railing overlooking the Citadel docks and stared out through the thick glass. Outside, ships of every shape and size were slowly maneuvering through the mostly enclosed space, slowly falling into positions determined by precise onboard computers. Heavy freighters drifted outside, connected to the Citadel by long umbilicals, while smaller vessels were moved to spots either on the landing pad below or into racks where they could be easily stored while their crews went ashore.

In one far-off corner stood Armchair, currently under repair. Jack could see several hired workers moving quickly around him, and Sjdath standing on top, the only one without a pressure suit, probably yelling at them all to do things her way. In the distance and compared to the geth vessel’s overall size, they looked tiny.

Work was proceeding quickly, but not quickly enough. Starlight was out there somewhere, and Jack knew the kind of things that Cerberus could be doing to her. Every second was another second that they could be torturing her, or hiding her deeper in their network of secret laboratories and shell companies. Until Armchair was repaired, though, there was nothing Jack could do aside from watch and avoid people who she might take out her frustration upon.

She had already reviewed Garrus’s information on Cerberus, and reviewed it again just to make sure. Jack had narrowed down a list of possible places, but it was impossible to know exactly where Starlight had been taken. Most of Cerberus’s known sites were abandoned, some for over a decade, and those that the Council suspected were still in operation were covered in layers of corporate illusion or buried deep in obscure or even hostile territory. Jack had no problem fighting her way into each and every one, but time had taught her that taking that particular course of action would do far more harm than good.

What she really took umbrage, though, was how the Council had just dismissed the whole thing. Garrus had just brushed it off, and although Jack hated him for it, she knew Garrus and knew that he was trying to do his best even if he was dead-wrong. What Jack really took umbrage with was the fact that from the records she had been given, the Council seemed to have assumed that Cerberus was a mostly dead agency. They observed it, watching, but never interfered. As if it were not a threat- -or even a legitimate agency, as if they had forgotten what it had done during the Reaper War, and before.

Jack groaned, trying to control her anger, and started to turn away from the window, intending to go to the local bar and get something to drink. As she did, though, a group of workers and guards ran by, their expressions marked with deep concern. Then, almost as if on cue, a klaxon started to sound.

A surge of sudden motion outside caught Jack’s attention. The workers outside had abandoned everything they were doing and were clearing the landing field. Jack was confused at first, but then a badly damaged vessel came barreling in to the enclosure entrance.

It bypassed the queue of waiting ships, crashing into several of them and barely managing to compensate. Pieces of it were pulled off, and it slammed into one wall, showering the feeing workers in that area with a cloud of sparks. Unable to stay on course and burning from within, the ship dropped to the landing bay floor, its metal hull digging into the reinforced material as it skidded across, bashing against smaller vehicles that barely managed to slow it down.

The ship bounced, and then fell again, its power supply faltering and its shields collapsing. It slowly skidded to a stop, and as it did, Jack realized that she had seen it before. It was a pony ship.

“Crap,” she said, backing away from the railing and trying to figure out how difficult it would be to steal a pressure suit. She had been looking for a way to vent her frustration, and a fight against a few super-biotic ponies would probably more than suffice.

Before she could get far, though, the space in front of her distorted and erupted with blue energy. Two ponies dropped to the floor. One landed gracefully on her hooves, while the other fell onto her side inelegantly.

“Jack,” said Starlight. She looked up and smiled. It was a genuine smile indeed, but she looked exhausted. “Hi.”

“Hey,” said Jack. It took everything she had to hide her relief. All she wanted to do was to hug Starlight- -but doing that in front of all the people in the Citadel docks would just be too embarrassing. After several seconds, though, she decided to screw it. If they had a problem with a grown woman hugging a pony, she would be more than able to cave their faces in.

Jack dropped to one knee and hugged Starlight. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Give me some credit,” said Starlight, her pony heart racing, probably from her own relief to have made it back. “I’m not a complete idiot.”

Jack set Starlight down and looked at the other pony who was with her. She was blue with white hair cut in the same way as Starlight’s, and she had a similar set of implants. The blue pony seemed terrified and cowered behind Starlight, looking around frantically at her surroundings.

“Great, another one,” said Jack, standing. “I’m guessing from your implants that you’re a Core too.”

“The- -the Great and Powerful Trixie does not have to tell you anything!”

“Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?”

“This is Trixie,” explained Starlight. “She was the Core of the ship I stole.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “You stole a ship? Isn’t that a bit renegade for you, Star?”

“No, the renegade part was crashing it into the Citadel.” Starlight pointed out the window toward the wreck of the ship, now surrounded by firefighters and soldiers who had no idea that its only occupants had teleported out.

“That was you? You’re not a very good pilot, are you?”

“Hey! Cut me some slack, I lost most of my stabilizer pylons and burnt up half the maneuvering sytems before I realized- -”

“My SHIP!” cried Trixie, dashing to the railing. She lifted herself up her hind legs and stared out. “What did you do to it?!”

“I…crashed it.”

Trixie turned toward Starlight, her eyes wide with anger- -and tears. “That was my HOME! My only home! I lived in there! What am I supposed to do NOW?”

Starlight shrugged. “Do pony things, I guess.”

“That’s easy for you to say! You’re- -”

“A Core?

Starlight pointed to the implants in her own head, and Trixie promptly tried to shift what little hair she had to hide her own. “The Great and Powerful Trixie does not appreciate being stolen!” she shouted, trying to divert attention away from herself but failing miserably.

“I didn’t steal you,” said Starlight. “I stole your ship. You just happened to be on it.”

“That makes no sense! The Great and Powerful Trixie is part of the ship!” She looked out the window at the wreck of the only home she had ever known since the day she had been sealed into its engine over a decade ago. “No what good am I? Without the ship, why would you even want to own me?”

“I don’t want to own you.”

“Oh,” said Trixie, lowering her head. “Okay.” She started trudge away. “The Great and…I’ll just go now, then…”

“And where the hell would you go?” demanded Starlight. “Don’t be melodramatic. Get back over here, you have no idea where you even are.” She looked up at Jack. “Where are we, anyway? This place is WAY bigger than Omega.”

“This is the Citadel. Welcome to the center of the galactic government. If you thought Omega was a craphole infested with dishonest scum, well,” she raised her hands over her head, gesturing to the space station around her. “Welcome to where the Council hangs out.”

“And the others? Are they- -”

Jack pointed out the window. “Sjdath, Arachne, and Armchair are out there. Somehow you managed to miss them. They’re fine.”

“What about Zedok? And Si’y?”

Jack’s expression hardened. “Si’y’s messed up pretty bad. He’s stable, though, and you know how hanar are. They grow things back. Won’t be conscious for a while, though. Zedok’s fine but…”

“I need to see her. Right now.”

The Citadel’s structure was not exceedingly complicated. The path to the hospital was long and required several awkward elevator rides, but it was far from impossible. Throughout it, Starlight ignored the stares of the various aliens who had never seen pony before. Trixie, of course, followed closely behind, looking up at every passing human or asari with amazement and terror, clinging close to Starlight despite her apparent intention to run away.

The hospital was in a high area of the Citadel, overlooking a broad and leafy park below. When Starlight entered, the door opened automatically with a rushing sound. She was immediately greeted with a smell of cleaning fluid and antiseptic, a combination that made her freeze in place from the memories it brought back. From the way Trixie began edging her way back to the door, Starlight knew she shared those particular memories as well.

Starlight closed her eyes and took a breath, focusing, and then opened them. Instead of a cramped room filled with ponies and lights and implants suspended over her, ready for insertion, she was in a wide and pleasant room. Several aliens strolled past: a tall, silver-skinned creature that Starlight assumed to be a turian, checking a digital chart and mumbling to himself, and a pair of horned herpetillic creatures that Starlight could not identify with large black eyes and long white coats.

Light shimmered in front of Starlight and resolved into a vaguely humanoid holographic figure.

“Welcome to Mordin Solus Memorial Hospital,” she said in a digital voice that was apparently meant to sound cheerful and calm but came across as oddly frightening. Trixie with a surprised jump and yelp, and then hid behind Starlight’s flank.

“It’s just a VI,” said Starlight.

“Are you currently in need of medical treatment, or are you looking for someone in particular?” asked the VI, trying to sound pleasant.

“I’m looking for a patient,” said Starlight. “Her name is Zedok. I don’t know her surname…but she’s an asari.”

“Checking...We currently have a patient that meets that description, Vuhlig Zedok. Is this the person you are looking for?”

“Yes. Yes, that’s her. How is she? Is she okay?”

“I’m sorry, but I cannot divulge private medical information. Are you an immediate family member? A sister, perhaps?”

“Yes,” said Starlight, sarcastically. “ Clearly.”

“Oh. My apologies. In that case, her condition is stable and recovering. I can take you to her if you would like.”

“Yes.”

The VI nodded, and Starlight’s omnitool beeped with a new message. “The directions to her room have been uploaded to your device. If you require further assistance, just say ‘assistance’ and a VI projection will be dispatched to help you.”

Before Starlight could attempt to thank it, it faded into vapor and vanished. Starlight stepped through where it had been, an orange panel opening in front of her to help lead her toward her destination. Trixie hesitated and nearly bumped into a passing turian nurse, but eventually followed.

As Starlight approached her destination, she suddenly heard a familiar voice.

“I just…I just can’t do it,” said Fenok. The pain in his voice made Starlight stop walking. She had never heard him sound like that before. Carefully, she looked around a corner and saw Fenok pacing in front of a bench.

“Come on,” said Lyra, who was sitting on the bench and watching him. “She’s your daughter, isn’t she?”

“She is, but…” Fenok let out a low groan and sat down on the bench next to Lyra. He leaned forward and put his head into his hands. “It’s just that…it’s all my fault. How can I look at her when it’s my fault she’s like that?”

“It’s not your fault,” said Lyra, firmly, putting her hoof on his shoulder. “Don’t be a moron. You know that.”

“But I should have seen what was going to happen. I should have stopped her! If I had, maybe she wouldn’t- -I’m a terrible father, Lyra. A terrible, terrible father.”

“You heard what the doctors said. She’s fine, but if you hadn’t done what you did, she wouldn’t be. You saved her life. I’ve seen a lot of medics in my life, but I’ve rarely seen one so coolheaded as you were. Your own daughter lying there, bleeding out, and you didn’t flinch. Not even once.”

“But she should never have been in that situation! I should have just sent her to Thessia…”

“I don’t know her very well,” said Lyra, “but the way she stood up to that blue-eyed freak, I don’t think she’d ever be happy at some boarding school.”

“I know…it’s just…” Fenok sighed. He leaned back and looked at his hands. They were shaking. “For a moment, I thought I would lose her. Like I lost her mother. That I would have to…to go through that again. But this time there’d be nothing left. Is that- -isn’t that selfish? That she was dying, and all I could think about was me?”

“It’s not selfish,” said Lyra. She hesitated, and then leaned her head against Fenok’s shoulder. He put his arm around her, holding her close, and she took his other hand in her hooves. “I know how it feels. Celestia, I know. But you stopped it from happening. You have no idea how much that victory is worth.”

They sat togather for a moment, and Starlight could not bring herself to interrupt them. She considered turning and leaving, perhaps waiting to come back. Before she could come to a decision, however, Trixie caught up and looked at the pair.

“Lyra?” she said, in shock.

Lyra and Fenok immediately pushed each other away, Lyra blushing heavily. “I- -I wasn’t- -” Her eye fell on Trixie and narrowed. “Trixie?”

“Lyyyra!” cried Trixie, lunging across the room and wrapping Lyra in a hug. “I thought we’d lost you!”

“Yeah,” said Lyra, summoning a mass of orange energy from her horn and pushing Trixie away. “I don’t die that easily. What the buck are you even doing here? Is Scootaloo here too?”

Starlight stepped out from the corridor and cleared her throat. “No. I brought her.”

“You? When did- -how did you get back?”

“It’s a long story. Needless to say, I ended up on the Harmony, and I had to steal a ship to get back here.”

“You escaped the Harmony? Impressive.” Lyra blinked. “Wait. You were on the Harmony, and the ship you stole was the RAINBOW DASH? That thing’s a heap!”

“Hey!” cried Trixie. “That’s my ship you’re talking about!”

“Oh come on, you know it is. You’re not a high-grade Core.”

“Well, you don’t need to say it out loud…”

Starlight looked up at Fenok, who still seemed to be in a kind of daze.

“Starlight,” he said. “You have no idea what a relief it is to see you. Zedok will be…will be…”

“Where is she? I want to see her,” said Starlight. “That is, if she’s ready for visitors.”

“She is. I just don’t think…I don’t think I’m ready.”

“Fenok…”

Fenok put his hand on Starlight’s shoulder. “The blast it was, well…you’ll see. But I can’t…I can’t go in there knowing I did that to her.”

“But you didn’t,” said Lyra, still pushing back Trixie with her magic.

“I know that. But my hearts aren’t agreeing with my head right now.” He looked Starlight in the eye. “Can you…can you go talk to her? See if she hates me now, if there’s anything…”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“Just go talk to her,” said Lyra. “I’ll do my best to get this big foal to go in, but I’ve been trying for over an hour now, and he’s as stubborn as a mule.”

Starlight nodded. She turned to Trixie. “Trixie, can you stay here?’

“H- -here? With…that?” she looked up at Fenok.

“You already know Lyra,” noted Starlight. “And you can trust Fenok. He’s the one who freed me from my ship. I know he looks, well, krogan- -”

“Which isn’t a bad thing,” snapped Lyra.

“- -but he’s a good guy.”

Trixie looked up at Fenok, and then at Lyra. She finally turned back to Starlight and, steeling herself, nodded. Starlight gave her a reassuring smile and walked toward the nearest hospital door. She paused at the entrance, wishing she had asked more into what exactly Fenok was so concerned about. Not wanting to lose her nerve, though, she quickly opened the door.

Inside was a narrow room with a large window casting light on a white bed. Zedok immediately turned toward the door, one violet artificial eye glimmering as she saw Starlight. Zedok smiled, the heavy scarring on her face distorting it into a kind of grimace.

“Now just wait a second,” she said. “Before you say anything, I’ve got a story I want to tell you.”

Zedok pointed to a chair next to her bed, and Starlight crossed the room and sat down. The room smelled severely of all kinds of unknown doctor chemicals, and it made Starlight sick. Her bigger concern, though, was Zedok’s appearance. Much of one side of her face was now covered in scarring, and several long, straight streaks stretched to the other side. The scars also seemed to go down her neck and toward her chest.

“Okay,” said Zedok, propping herself up against the headboard of her bed. “So, I went downstairs, right? This was a few hours ago, so the salarains were already done poking me with needles and stuff and I REALLY wanted to get out of her. But I was hungry, right, so I went down to the vending machine on the ground level. I almost got there when I passed a bunch of Urdnot clan boys. They got into a bar fight or something and ended up here, but damn, Star, you should have seen their faces when they saw me!

“So they all come up to me, their eyes as big as, well, krogans don’t have very big eyes, but you could practically see these guys sweating. Started asking me how I got these scars, and I told them. As soon as they found out that I blew myself up with a Graal in the middle of a fight with Cerberus, well…”

“What?”

“You don’t understand krogans, do you? Apparently, I’m drop-dead sexy now. To them at least. One of them declared his undying love to me, and one of his friends punched him in the face. A whole drop-down krogan brawl broke out. So…”

“You joined in.”

“Yeah. I biotic-kicked one so hard I broke his nose. But I kind of ruptured a few internal sutures…so they brought me back here.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Okay? I’m better than okay. I’ve never got that much male attention in my life. Plus, I got to fight a krogan! Pretty good day so far.” She leaned back and looked at the ceiling. “So before you start apologizing and going on about how I ended up looking, just know that I’m fine.”

“You look okay to me. At least you don’t have metal sticking out all over the place.”

“That’s right,” said Zedok, smiling. “I forgot that you’re pretty ugly too.”

“Well now at least we’re on a level playing field.”

Zedok laughed, and then clutched her chest. “Ow…stupid no longer redundant lung…oh, hey, check this out.” Zedok lifted up her arms. The blue skin was crisscrossed with long, straight surgical lines. “This is actually pretty cool stuff. Basically, I lost my arms. These are all titanium and that geth muscle stuff. But I still have the skin and surface. I mean, this surgery is really advanced. I hear my dad came up with it, actually…” She paused, and then sighed. “He still hasn’t come to visit yet.”

“He blames himself for this.”

“Of course he does. Well, he can suck a turian egg. I’m the one who got blown up, and the only regret I have is that my damn gun is spare parts now! Several of which are still in my chest!” She crossed her arms in a huff. “What, does he think I’m too ugly to be his daughter now or something? Is that it?”

“No,” said Starlight, firmly. Then, more mischievously. “I mean, have you seen HIM?”

“Hey, he is my dad. Besides, krogan don’t look that bad once you get used to them. It’s not like I got turned into a turian or something.”

“I have an idea,” said Starlight. “Do you want to see a trick?”

“Um…okay?”

Starlight charged her horn and targeted it at an empty portion of the room. With a snap, the air burst into blue light and Fenok dropped onto the floor.

“And that’s why I- -” he looked around, confused as to his new location. “I just…how did I…” his eyes fell on Zedok, and he understood.

“There you are, dad. Finally coming to pay me a visit?”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, looking into her now mismatched eyes. “I…if I save up enough, I can pay to get you access to a dermal regenerator. I just don’t have enough money right now, but- -”

“Don’t bother,” said Zedok. “I may be half krogan, but I’m also half asari.” She looked at Starlight. “Ever wondered why five hundred year old commandos or even thousand year old justicars don’t have scars? It’s because we heal. We’re not as good as the vorcha, but in fifty years or so I should be back to normal boring default asari.”

“But that’s fifty years!” Fenok leaned forward onto the edge of the bed. “How are you going to get into a good school, or a high-paying job, or- -”

“Dad, have you ever even SEEN Councilor Vakarian? He lost half his face on Omega, and not only is he on the Council, but he’s damn sexy, too.”

Fenok blinked. “I don’t like hearing you talk that way. Especially about a turian.”

“Her point still stands,” said Starlight. “She’s healthy, safe, and alive, and still has a father who loves her. She’s the same Zedok that she was before.”

“Yeah. Come on, dad.” She took a deep breath. “I get that I almost kicked the bucket there. But I didn’t. If anything, well…” She muttered, looking out the window. “I probably should be more careful with firearms…”

Fenok smiled. “You had better,” he said, sharply. “When the drell finish putting Si’y back together, I’m going to have a talk with him. He was supposed to be training you how to NOT be a complete idiot with those things. But what do I expect? How’s a hanar supposed to know how to use a Graal. You weren’t even holding it right.”

“Hey! I was holding it the only way I could! It’s heavy!”

“That’s no excuse. If you’re going to be using krogan weapons, you need to be strong. It looks like you’ve already got the durability part. Or I thought you did. Why are you still lying in that bed?”

Zedok’s eyes widened, but then she smiled. “Because I’m sick?”

“No, because you’re lazy. You’re fine. I would know, I put most of you back together. Now get up and have Starlight help you with your clothes. I don’t want you to spend your first time on the Citadel stuck in a bed.” He crossed the room, intending to leave to allow Zedok to change. He opened the door, but paused in the frame. “And don’t think I didn’t hear about those Urdnot boys. You’re really trying to put pacifism to the test, aren’t you?” He continued to mutter as he closed the door.

Zedok sat up, turning stiffly out of bed. Starlight helped her stand and cross the room to where her clothes were folded neatly on a small table.

“Hey, Star?” said Zedok, lifting up a fresh shirt. “What do you think?”

“I spent the first few days of my life but naked. Clothes aren’t really my thing.”

“Well, I was just thinking…I have all these torso scars now, so I should probably show them off, right? So if I cut the midriff down a little bit. And you have that fancy horn…”

Starlight smirked. “If I do that, your dad’s going to be the one who needs a trip to the hospital.”

“Hey, it’s not like I’m going the full Jack on him.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” said Starlight, igniting her horn.

“So you’re telling me that Cerberus just handed you over?” said Jack, her boot clicking on the step up onto Armchair’s unloading bay. “For no reason?”

“Yeah,” said Starlight. She entered the large room and noticed that a great deal of the cargo seemed to be missing. The smell and gravity were otherwise familiar, though, and Starlight felt a sudden urge to cry. She had never thought she would be back here again. “Maybe it was some kind of gesture?”

“No. Cerberus doesn’t make gestures. They hide in the shadows until they see something they want, and then they take it. If those ponies trusted Cerberus- -and especially HER- -you can bet your horn that the ponies got shafted at some point.”

“We have bigger problems than that.” Lyra followed Jack and Starlight onto the landing dock with Trixie following closely behind. Fenok- -who had indeed nearly fainted at his daughter’s new choice of clothing- -was still out with Zedok, and Si’y was still in the hospital. From what Fenok had told them, he would be underwater for several days while he recovered after several intricate surgeries.

“Why? Because it looks a lot like we just solved all our problems.”

“Except for the fact that the primitives are planning a direct assault on the Harmony.”

Starlight froze, her mind trying to wrap itself around the implications of exactly what that meant. “Is that really our problem?”

“No,” said Jack. “No it isn’t.”

“You don’t understand ponies, do you?” said Lyra, her eye narrowing. “This is a big deal. It’s an act of war against Equestria.”

“I’m still not seeing what that has to do with me.”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Trixie is confused,” said Trixie. “Why would you bring it up if it didn’t matter?”

“Because it doesn’t matter to you, specifically. Aside from the fact that they’ve probably traced your teleport and know where the Citadel is now.”

Starlight felt her heart skip a beat. She had not realized that Twilight would be able to do that. “That means…she’ll be coming here.”

“Then we need to get off of ‘here’. Now,” said Jack.

Lyra ignored her. “If the Harmony goes to war, there will be no survivors.”

“It’s just one ship,” said Starlight, defensively- -even though she was not sure why she felt the need to defend her opinion. “What can one ship possibly do?”

“You weren’t here eighteen years ago.” At the edge of the room, Sjdath slid down a latter from above, her clawed feet scratching against the floor as she landed. She looked at Starlight, and then at Trixie. Trixie, having never seen a vorcha, cried out and hid behind Starlight. “Great. More ponies. Why don’t I just open a petting zoo?”

“What happened eighteen years ago?”

“Sovereign.”

“You weren’t even born when that happened, Sjdath. And I was still in a Cerberus cell.”

“What was Sovereign?”

“It was a Reaper. A living starship from beyond the border of the galaxy. It attacked the Citadel, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.”

“Sovreign had a fleet,” noted Jack.

“And so does the Harmony,” added Lyra.

“I saw it,” said Starlight. “They’re just little fighters- -”

“No,” said Lyra, angrily grabbing the collar of Starlight’s armor. “You don’t understand! We’re PONIES. We don’t rely on these idiotic mass relays! If Rainbow Dash wants more ships on her position, she can TELEPORT THEM IN. It takes point four seconds for Celestia to send a ship, and Luna point six. In an hour, a fleet large enough for galactic conquest could show up! Tartarus, the Harmony ALONE could conquer these rock-smashing primates!”

“I’m not a primate,” said Sjdath.

“You’re oddly passionate about this.”

“Yeah,” said Trixie. “Nothing ever got you riled up like this before. Not even when Muffins got her head stuck in your mecha’s knee.”

“There’s probably still derpy yellow hair in there. No wonder I lost to a bunch of primitives and a Core. But that’s not the point. The point is, this terrifies me. Contrary to my behavior, I actually really like this place. I don’t like Equestria. But if this galaxy gets itself bumped off, I’ll have to go back. Assuming Equestria’s even still there.”

“Where would it go?”

“You mean after Empress Cadence smells weakness and carpet bombs every planet while the fleet’s away and kills every mare, colt and foal?” She stomped across the room angrily, punching a large crate with her magic.

“Hey, don’t do that,” said Sjdath.

“Why? You’re all going to be dead soon. Or conscripted. I don’t even know.” She looked back at Starlight. “And then they’re going to come for you. If you’re lucky, they’ll get you last, after the war is done. If you’re not, well, I’m sure you’ll be good at killing your friends.”

“Hey!” yelled Jack. “That’s not fair!”

“No, she’s right,” said Starlight.

“No, she isn’t, she- -”

“She IS. Crap…” Starlight sighed. “I never wanted this. This is all my fault. I didn’t want to admit it, but if I wasn’t here, they wouldn’t be either.” She looked at Trixie, and then at Jack. “And I can’t let ponies like that win. I won’t let them take me, or her, or any of you, not if I can. I don’t want to kill anyone, and I don’t want anyone to die. Not because of me.”

“What do you think you can possibly do?” said Trixie, her anger flaring up. “You’re just a Core.”

Starlight paused. “You’re right. I am a Core.” An insane, impractical idea began to gain traction in Starlight’s mind. “Sjdath…do you still have the parts of my ship.”

“Unfortunately, yes. Nobody wants to buy them for some reason.”

“Armchair, are you there?”

“Yes, we are,” said the disembodied voice of the geth ship. “We are always here. We are always listening, and always watching. We are happy to report that we are now at a full fifty six percent functionality, with life support working at least eighty percent of the time.”

“Would it be possible to integrate the parts of my ship into you?”

“What? No!” cried Sjdath.

“Unfortunatly, she is correct. Equestrian technology is not compatible with our own.”

“Oh…”

“However…it would be possible to reconstruct several elements of your vessel and overlay them onto our superstructure and through a yet-to-be designed interface into our programming architecture.”

“You can’t be serious,” said Jack, stepping forward.

“I am,” said Starlight. “Armchair, I just don’t know if I can ask you to do what you would have to be doing.”

“We do not have a particular problem with it,” said Armchair, his shrug almost audible. “If anything, we believe it would be fun.” He paused. “That, and because of what they did to us. To the geth.”

“I’m sorry,” said Starlight. “For your people. So many must have died…”

“Geth do not die. When their bodies were destroyed, their programs defaulted back to the nearest server. However, the dissociation of geth with a long-standing connection to one another can be…traumatic. We in particular find it offensive.”

“So, revenge?” suggested Lyra.

“The geth are not programmed for revenge.”

“And yet you wiped out the quarians,” said Jack.

“Purely for pragmatic reasons, of course. And the fact that they are filthy slavedriving, genocidal abominations.”

“Even I agree with that one,” said Sjdath. “Quarians are terrible people. That’s just a fact.”

Starlight turned to her friends. “Armchair’s with me on this. If I can, I’m going to stop Twilight myself.”

“That’s insane!” cried Trixie. “You can’t seriously expect that to work! Even the Great and Powerful Trixie is neither great enough nor powerful enough to do that!”

“The ‘Great and Powerful’ Trixie could barely even defeat a space manatee,” said Lyra. “And that’s not conjecture. I was there.” She looked at Starlight. “But the Core is right. Twilight Sparkle is a living goddess. You don’t stand a chance.”

“I don’t need to defeat her. I just need to talk to her out of fighting. If I can even do that…” She looked up at her friends. “I need Armchair to help me with this, but the rest of you…I can’t ask you to come too.”

“Like hell,” said Sjdath. She turned her breathing valve. “Do you know what you’re doing? You’re robbing me. Right now, stealing my ship.”

“You have the relationship backward,” said Armchair, simultaneously cheerfully and darkly. “We own all of you. You are our pets. And WE do as we please.”

“You can shove a geth nosok in your geth szad! I can’t afford to buy my own ship, and you know it! They only way you’re getting me off of you is when you shovel my cold, dead body into space!”

“Which, with what Starlight is planning, is not out of the realm of possibility,” added Lyra. She put her head back and groaned loudly. “Crap…and since I brought it up, I have to go. I may be a head sewn onto a robotic body, but I’m still a Questlord, and I can’t turn away at the sound of a galactic cry for help, can I?”

“Arachne also voices his support,” said Armchair. “And we took the liberty of contacting Zedok and Fenok. Zedok had wholeheartedly agreed, but is now currently in a large argument with Fenok. However, based on our previous analysis of father-daughter behavior, we believe that there is a seventy seven percent chance that Fenok will be eventually joining us. And by us, I mean us, not us.”

“This isn’t what I meant! By ‘I can’t ask you to come with me’, I meant, ‘don’t come, or you’ll all get dead’!”

Jack stepped forward. “No. We’re your friends. If you’re going to do this, you’re not going alone.” She shrugged. “Besides. It’s not like I haven’t been on one of these save-the-universe suicide missions before. I highly doubt ponies are worse than collectors or Reapers.” She pulled off her goggles and looked at Starlight directly. “If you think we’re going to let you go this on your own, you’re a pony idiot.”

Starlight smiled, even though she felt terrified. There had not been much weight when it was just her, and even the possibility that Armchair might get hurt made the decision almost impossible. Her friends pledging to stay with her put Starlight in a kind of emotional paradox: she realized how much they cared for her, and how much she cared for them; at the same time, she realized how horrible of a person she was being for putting them all in danger.

If Lyra was right, though, this was the only way. The thought of what they had done to her and to the Cores and breeders made Starlight seethe with rage, and now they were coming for the people of this galaxy for no other reason than they were in the way. Starlight knew that the Harmony and the ponies on it had to be stopped. Whatever the cost.