The turian vessel Galten 64 slowly maneuvered into position. Outside, far below, was one of the many mostly failed synthetic agroworlds that dotted the Serpent Nebula. Those low-gravity, mostly lifeless rocks had originally been conceived as a method for allowing large-scale agriculture within the region of the Citadel; they now stood abandoned, a chain of forgotten and bankrupt asteroids floating in the calmer regions of the sometimes tempest nebula.

Although farming had been ceased on their surface, the gravity of the sub-planets and their unique location in calm areas made their orbit excellent areas to stage the construction of a fleet. As the Galten fell into position, nearly fifty vessels from the Council External Fleet had already been assembled and were awaiting orders to enter the nearby Citadel mass relay.

“Orbit locked,” said one of the piloting crew. She pushed back in her chair and looked out the large frontal window of the battleship. Outside, the fleet stood waiting. Several other ships were joining. In the distance, the Destiny Ascension IV could be seen taking its place among the asari ships- -truly an impressive sight, just as it must have seemed when the first Ascension- -now a museum exhibit on the Citadel- -took its place in the defense fleet against the Reapers.

Far to the port side, a different set of several small destroyers were gathering. Unlike the sweeping lines and rich colors of the asari ships or the angular birdlike shape of turian vessels, these were roughly shaped like bricks and festooned with a number of guns and frontal armor that was well past the line of ridiculousness. Most of those ships were painted green- -badly- -and they made several of the watching turians physically ill to look at.

“They even got the krogan,” sighed the female pilot, trying to hold down her lunch as she imagined what they must smell like on the inside.

“Hey, look over there,” said one of her compatriots. He pointed down past the krogan vessels at an oddly small ship that would have looked less out of place flying through the atmosphere of an agrosphere instead of above it. It was black and white, with a graceful fuselage and short wings.

“An Alliance ship? I didn’t know there were any left in the Council fleet.”

“That’s not just any Alliance ship! That’s the Normandy!”

The female pilot’s eyes widened. “That thing? It still flies?” She looked down at the human ship as it joined the krogan contingent while keeping a prudent distance. “That thing should be in a museum. It’s an antique.”

“It looks good. I hear the guy who flies it can’t even walk, but he puts seven coats of space-wax on it every two months.”

“Space wax? Really?”

“Cut the chatter,” chastised their ranking supervisor, who was sitting behind and above their section. “Keep the orbit clear and stay in formation. We could get a call to go out any minute, and we’re going to be the ones going out first.”

The pilots nodded and returned to their work, readying the vessel for battle. Higher on the bridge, at the topmost point, the captain looked out over the starchart and over his crew. His position was unique in the turian element of the fleet; he was responsible for command not only of his ship, but for acting as the primary leader of the entire turian group. While not a full strategic commander, the responsibility fell on him to lead the squad of ships in the execution of their orders. It was a complicated and difficult task, but he was prepared for the task.

To either side of him, a pair of embedded holographic projectors hummed to life. A pair of translucent holograms were drawn on either side of the captain. One was a serious looking young female in a general’s uniform, while the other was immediately recognizable as the turian Councilor.

“Primarch Victus, Councilor Vakarian,” said the captain, saluting. “It is an honor to have you on board.”

“How are the preparations?” asked Vakarian. Even as a hologram, he looked stunning. The captain had no idea how a turian of his caliber had never gotten married.

“The External Fleet is now in full formation and ready for orders.”

“I don’t like this, Vakarian,” said Victus. “You’re putting a lot of turian lives on the line here.”

“I know,” said Vakarian. “But I firmly believe it’s necessary.”

“I know it’s necessary. That’s why I gave my approval.”

“The Council fleet does not technically need your approval, Victus.”

“No, but you do need it to get a backup contingent set up in case you fail completely. Although against one ship, I have no idea how you could.”

“I assure you, Primarch,” said the captain, “we are fully equipped and battle ready. We have completed over four hundred percent of our training maneuver quota both within the turian element and with the remainder of the fleet. Even the krogan.”

“Yes,” said Vakarian. “I remember the invoice for the hole in your ship.”

“Sir, it would be our honor if you would be willing to command the fleet, even if you would only prefer to do so ceremonially.”

“I was never much of a military commander,” admitted Vakarian. “And besides, you know how the salarians are. If a Councilor tried to lead the fleet, they’d probably die of constipation.”

“I’m not even sure why we still put up with them,” said the Primarch. “We should have left with the humans.”

“Before Victus turns this into another political discussion, I have some information for you, captain. And you’re not going to like it.”

“Any intelligence will be helpful in our cause, sir.”

“One of my sources just contacted me. She seems to think that the enemy might attempt to engage the Citadel directly.”

“Directly?” scoffed Victus. “That would be suicide. They’d have to go through the External and Internal Fleets, as well as the Citadel’s intrinsic defenses. And what ‘source’ was this anyway? You know how I feel about your choice in confidence, Vakarian.”

“Have any of them ever been wrong?”

“Then have the salarians close the mass relay to non-Council IFFs. Captain Theros, have you detected anything that would corroborate Vakarian’s tale?”

“We detected some minor biphasic gravity distortions a few hours ago on the aft hull, but they have since stopped. We believe a sensor anomaly was the cause.”

“Then why are you wasting my time with it?”

“Just keep an eye out,” said Vakarian. “I’m going to check with the asari. They have a long-range sensor ship. I’ll have them check the area to be sure.”

“You’re approved for battle, captain,” said Victus, nodding to the captain who once again saluted.

“Thank you, Primarch. We will serve- -”

“Captain,” called the supervisor of the communications and scanning subsection. He sounded almost paniced. “We’re detecting a disturbance off the aft bow!”

“Nature of the disturbance? I need information on- -”

The question answered itself. The map in front of Theros suddenly began to recognize solid objects, and out the window, a ship flashed into existence from an explosion of violet energy. It was immediately followed by flashes of white and dark blue light on both sides; with every burst of energy, another vessel was pulled into existence. Within seconds, a formation of nearly a hundred alien ships had appeared, led by the ship that had come first even though many of them dwarfed it in size.

“Holy crap,” whispered Vakarian.

“Where did they come from?” demanded the Primarch. “The mass relay- -”

“There’s no sign of activation of the mass relay,” said the scanning supervisor. “Counting eighty seven distinct vessels, excluding fighters, but- -I can’t get a lock on a mass core on any of them!”

“Orders, captain?”

“Hold position,” said Vakarian.

“You do not have the authority to give them orders,” said the Primarch, harshly.

“Like hell I don’t! I’m not going to have my fleet start a war if we can at all avoid it! Not this close to the Citadel. There’s no time to evacuate- -we’re going to try to seal the Citadel on our side, but I need time. I need you to hold this line as long as you can!”

“You’re going to try to bluff them.”

The captain nodded, and turned to his crew. “All ships charge shields and weapons but DO NOT FIRE. Assume a line formation. Contact Edi on the Normandy and get her to pull back the krogan to the mid-rear, and put all our biggest ships on point. And get me linked to the Destiny Ascension.”

“I have to go. Crap- -I knew something like this would happen! Valena, get me in contact with Falere and bring me my gun!” Vakarian stepped outside of the hologram’s range and it deactivated.

“The fleet on our side is ready for battle,” said Victus. “It will be waiting on your orders. But Vakarian is right. Use it wisely.”

“I will make our people proud, Primarch.”

“And how is that any more than is already expected of you?”

She cut her connection, and the captain turned back to his crew. Although turians did not sweat, he felt like he was about to, and saw that his hands were shaking. He did his best to hide it, and readied himself for the battle to begin.

Apart from the prefabs installed inside his body, Armchair’s mass effect core was the only part of his body that was not geth. It was quite apparent that it was something else entirely, a mass of bizarre curves and angles forming an almost organic looking, hydra-like mass of tubes and cables that seemed to cling to the ceiling and floor. It hummed loudly, and to Starlight, it sounded like a heart. In a sense, it was.

Now, though, the uneven floor of the engine room contained a second device. Linked to the main core and processing ports at strategic portions of the internal energy distribution system were the remnants of the vessel that Starlight had spent twenty years of her life floating in. It had been pulled apart and opened, separated and reconfigured, but it had still been her prison. Her only consolation about being forced to use it was that at least now it could be used for something beneficial.

Arachne clicked around her platform, attaching the complex array of cables to her back. Even inactive, they each had a sensation, as though something unpleasant was being shoved beneath Starlight’s skin- -or, perhaps, each connection served as a reminder that non-removable implants had already been replaced beneath her skin.

A signal arrived in Starlight’s omnitool, and she opened it. It contained a simple text file. Arachne, unlike the other members of the crew, was not able to speak, but he was able to write.

“Are you sure about this, Starlight?” it read.

“Yes. I am,” said Starlight. “Thank you for helping me build this.”

A second message. “It is only a shame that such a device must be used for battle. This universe already holds so many sad songs, and songs of pain.”

“I know. I know, Arachne.”

Arachne scuttled around her for a few more minutes, and then stepped back, climbing vertically up one of the curving, technology encrusted walls. He opened his omnitool and typed into it.

“It is done,” read his message. “But we cannot guarantee it will work. You could die.”

“Great, now you tell me.” She closed her omnitool and put her hoof onto the makeshift floor below her. “Are you ready, Armchair?”

“We are,” said Armchair.

“Right,” said Starlight, taking her seat. “Let’s do this.”

Arachne changed the screen on his omnitool and engaged the procedure. The system surrounding Starlight began to hum to life, and she tried to control her breathing, not knowing how it would feel.

Then it hit her in a flash. She was vaguely aware that she was screaming, but it was difficult to tell. The sensation was bizarre, like having her mind and body falling out of sync. It hurt, and it hurt a lot- -but at the same time, Starlight could feel her magic expanding exponentially.

It felt like it had on Trixie’s ship, and like then, Starlight felt herself slipping away, her consciousness collapsing- -but she resisted. She took control of her magic and forced it to obey her instead of the machine, and the machine responded.

The effect was something like suddenly awakening. Starlight opened her eyes, and found that she was no longer limited to her body. She was somewhere else, but not anywhere in particular. The closest sensation she could think of was of floating, not against gravity instead in an emptiness that was simultaneously peaceful and tempest.

She quickly discovered that she was not alone. There were other presences, and Starlight felt them before they resolved into seven shining balls of light surrounding her in a circle, each one linked to the others by complicated, web-like tendrils of red, and each one talking nonstop to the others.

“System linked,” said one.

“Devoting processing to inbound consciousness.”

“Starlight Glimmer connected.”

“Hello, Starlight.” The last one echoed between all seven.

Starlight understood. Although she had always thought of him as one person, Armchair was actually seven geth. These were them, and in them, Starlight could see their history. She could see a broken and nearly destroyed geth armature lying all alone on a distant alien planet, its programs separated from their only path back home. She saw these seven survivors coming together, linking, and creating something greater than the sum of their parts, an inseparable and unique lifeform. Now, she saw them allowing her to join them.

“Alright,” she said, or perhaps thought. “Hello, Armchairs. You’re all so adorable.”

The spheres spoke for a moment and rapidly came to the consensus that they were. Then one of them spoke. “Jack indicates that the Citadel is currently in the process of emergency closure. The pony fleet has arrived.”

“That is bad.”

“That would be bad.”

“Agreed.”

“Agreed.”

“I think it would be a good thing.”

“I disagree.”

“Agreed.”

“You already voted.”

“It’s not a problem,” said Starlight, smiling at their antics. “That’s not how I operate.”

She stretched out her consciousness through the geth and into their body, dominating it. Armchair’s body became hers. She saw though his sensors, and felt her friends moving around inside him. This, she realized, must be how he always felt- -and how Twilight saw the world.

“Preparing engines.”

“Don’t bother,” said Starlight. “I won’t be using them.” She reached out with her magic and engulfed the ship. To her, it was secondary; a housing for her amplifier and for her, rather than an actual vehicle. Unlike Trixie, she did not require a FTL conversion engine. She was strong enough to accomplish the same thing through telekinesis alone. That would only be a limitation.

Starlight focused her mind forward in the direction of the assembling fleet, and she felt herself accelerate.

Rainbow Dash looked out at the heterogeneous alien fleet aligned before her. Next to her, Scootaloo was sweating. The two fleets had arrived for the battle, but it seemed that neither wanted to shoot first. The tension was so high that even the breeders seemed to realize that something was amiss. Rainbow Dash, however, did not. She just smiled nonchalantly at the scene before her, taking her time and enjoying herself.

“Our target?”

“Here,” said her breeder assistant, shifting the holographic projection to show the alien megastructure. Even in the hologram, Scootaloo could see that the five arms of the station were closing.

“It’s trying to clam up,” said Rainbow Dash. “What’s it got for defense?”

“No signs of magical structural reinforcement or shielding.”

“So it’s completely defenseless, then?”

“Correct.”

“How many people are on it?” asked Scootaloo.

“We are detecting approximately fifteen million lifeforms over twenty kilograms.”

“That many?” Scootaloo looked up at Rainbow Dash, but saw that her sister only looked more intrigued.

“Well, this should be good, then. Charge the Orbital Friendship Cannon and target it. One shot should be enough. And if those enemy ships survive the quantum wake, target that one.” Rainbow Dash pointed up at the largest of the vessels outside, a large swooping dreadnaught with a glowing blue maw in the front. “The big one right there. Cut it in half with the standard guns. As a show of force.”

“Dimensional sheer weapon is charged and ready to fire,” indicated the breeder.

“Watch this, Scoots,” said Rainbow Dash. “You’re about to see me become a hero.”

There was a disturbance from the crew of breeders and ponies in the lower bridge.

“What’s happening?” asked Scootaloo.

“We’re detecting an incoming vessel,” said the breeder. The hologram amplified the image, showing an oddly shaped vessel covered in windows and surrounded by a sphere of light. Scootaloo felt her breath catch; she had spent quite a bit of time looking at that particular ship and recognized it easily.

“So?” said Rainbow Dash. “That thing’s tiny.”

“Yes, but it is breaking several velocity records at present. Also, scans indicate that it contains one active and one inactive Core.”

“Trixie,” gasped Scootaloo.

“I’m really tired of that Core. She’s a traitor anyway. Ignore her.” Rainbow Dash opened up her panel. “I’m just going to fire the cannon. I’ve so always wanted to do this.”

“Wait!” cried Scootaloo.

It was too late. The ship rang slightly and space itself seemed to vibrate. Then the violet beam shot out of frontal cannon.

Starlight burst past the Council lines before they even had a chance to realize what was going on. A brief scan of the area showed that Lrya had been right: there were far more ships with the Harmony than Starlight had ever imagined there would be.

That was not all her scan revealed. Something was wrong with the Harmony. Armchair’s scanners could not pick it up, but Starlight’s amplified biotics could. The ship felt different, and Starlight immediately knew why. Something had gone wrong. Twilight was no longer in control.

Then a second signal formed. A surge of magic surrounded the front end of the Harmony, condensing on an imbedded frontal spike. Starlight already knew what that meant before it even fired, and she quickly calculated the trajectory. Whoever was firing was not aiming for any of the Council Fleet. They were aiming for the Citadel.

Starlight knew there was only one option. She swerved sideways and put herself in the path of the beam.

“Direct hit on the small ship,” said the breeder.

Rainbow Dash shrugged. “Well, one less thing I have to deal with.”

The Harmony suddenly started shaking, and the tremor rapidly became more violent.

“What’s happening?” demanded Rainbow Dash to anypony who would answer.

“We’re receiving harmonic feedback off their shields!”

“SHEILDS?! How could there be SHEILDS?! They should have been vaporized! Their vapor should have been vaporized!”

The shaking grew increasingly violent and then a loud explosion erupted through the Harmony. It had enough force to knock Scootaloo sideways, and Rainbow Dash caught her. “What the hay was that?!”

“The dimensional sheer cannon has backfed into our internal systems. The megastructure remains undamaged.”

“Then fire again!”

“We can’t. The cannon was destroyed. Interlocks managed to protect the Core itself, but several key systems have been lost, including but not limited to internal magic suppression, frontal high-speed stabilization, and life support on decks seventeen through- -”

“Then get it fixed!”

“Those repaires would take months, even with- -”

With a scream of rage, Rainbow Dash punched the breeder in the face, knocking her to the ground. “Don’t you dare tell me what I can or can’t do!” Scootaloo galloped quickly to the white Pegasus’s side to help her up. “Buck this,” said Rainbow Dash. “Fleet, prepare to engage!”

Distantly, Starlight could smell the scent of smoke and feel the pain as the implants in her back overcame their cooling system, glowing and burning into her spine. The pain was exquisite and nearly unbearable, but she kept her focus, driving the force Twilight’s magic back into the Harmony.

“Come on, Twilight, you know you don’t want to do this,” she muttered. “Fight it>”

The beam surrounded her shields, and with all her strength, Starlight pushed forward- -and felt something inside Twilight’s ship snap and shatter, like a distant bone breaking. Her shields momentarily detonated as the beam broke its connection, and Starlight cried out.

Not hesitating, she quickly reassembled her shields and focused on the Harmony. Her plan would have to change. There was still time to stop a war, as long as she acted quickly and did not let them strike first.

“Jack, Lyra, Zedok, are you all ready?” she asked. Armchair relayed several affirmative replies.

Starlight reached out with her magic toward the nearest of the pony ships. To her surprise, the instant she grasped it, its shields cracked and burst apart like a soap bubble. It was startling how fragile it was compared to the Harmony.

The frigate resisted for a moment, but it had no chance of breaking free. Starlight pulled it across space, knocking it into several other ships before finally slamming it into the starboard side of the Harmony. The force was not enough to destroy either ship, but it put the Harmony off balance.

Before any of the ships could react, Starlight raced forward, hoping that Sjdath had installed her cannons properly. She opened fire, and watched as the Harmony’s shields buckled under the impact. Those shields were much stronger, but not durable enough to prevent Starlight from strafing a long streak of damage through the side of the ship.

The surrounding fleet opened fire, not at the Council ships but at Starlight. Their weapons hurt, but not nearly as bad as Twilight’s frontal cannon had. Armchair’s subunits spread out, taking control of his weapons and returning fire. Starlight did her best to maintain her shields and her barrage- -and to activate a teleportation spell.

Then the Harmony returned fire. Its guns suddenly appeared along its surface: large hovering spheres of violet energy projected over spiny dissipaters that erupted into barrages of magical bolts and rays, all targeted directly onto the geometric weak points of Starlight’s shields

Starlight had not been expecting the magnitude of difference in those guns. When they struck, she was too busy devoting magic to forward motion and her own weapons. She had gotten careless, and several of the beams cut long holes through Armchair’s side. Immediately, Starlight moved to reinforce the shields- -only to suddenly have part of her field suddenly snapped.

She cried out. In her body far below, she felt Arachne shifting her ports, trying to compensate for how much energy she was dissipating. “Armchair,” she said, “what just happened?”

“There is a short in sector D. Acceleration is dropping. Compensating with mass-effect core.”

“It hurts so much,” wheezed Starlight. She summoned her focus and connected through one of the Armchairs. “Sjdath, part of my system just failed. I can’t keep up my speed. You have to fix it.”

“Fix it? I’m a salvage operator, not a wizard!”

“Arachne’s busy, and I can’t…” Starlight felt her consciousness fade for a moment, only to be awakened as several fighters closed in on her position and began to open fire targeting the hole in her side. She tried to pull away, but to her horror, she was slowing. “Please…”

“Easy for you to say,” said Sjdath. In ‘sector D’, Sjdath was hiding behind a Mako tire as one of the systems that Starlight had installed produced long, roaring arcs of blue energy. She turned to the pony hiding beside her. “How does she expect me to do anything about it?”

“I can bypass that area,” said Starlight, her voice disembodied and shadowed by Armchair’s, projected from the inside of the ship itself, “but you need to close the manifold valve.”

Trixie looked over the tire at the damaged panel. “She’s losing too much magic. If we don’t do something, she’s going to bleed to death!”

“‘We’? Good to know I have the support of the horse!”

“We just have to get through the discharge. If we could- -”

Sjdath ignored her and stood up. Out of cover, the arcs of magical energy immediately homed onto her body. She was nearly thrown backward, but managed to bear the energy that suddenly came to pass through her body.

“How- -how are you doing that?”

“I am vorcha. We are the future.” Sjdath began to walk slowly against the magnetic repulsion of the biotic discharge. It did indeed hurt, but pain was good. Pain was a gift, and this was the gift she had been given by the pony Lyra Heartstrings: after nearly dying from hit, her vorcha body was now resistant to magic.

The ship rumbled and shook as Starlight continued to lose control, but Sjdath kept clawing her way toward her goal until she could finally reach the epicenter. The manifold was a large and complex pony device installed into the wall, and despite being ruptured, it was still mostly intact. Sjdath took hold of the disengagement handle and began to pull.

It did not move. She tried harder, but to no avail. The energy pouring through her body was only increasing, and it was staring to become unbearable. Then she saw the handle suddenly glow blue with a shade of biotic energy that was not the same as Starlight’s.

Sjdath looked to her side and saw Trixie standing in her shadow, her horn glowing as she struggled to pull down the interlock.

“Ponies,” said Sjdath. Together they both pulled as hard as they could.

Then a powerful blast from one of the Harmony’s guns cut through the frontal shields and burned away much of the upper deck. Armchair shook and the feedback into what was left of Starlight’s shields drove out a small explosion from the manifold. Trixie cried out as the magic arced into her, throwing her back.

Sjdath let go of the handle but was pushed back several feet.

“Screw this,” she said, reaching for the pistol on her belt. “I’ll have to recalibrate it manually.”

She lifted her arm and allowed her omnitool to aim for her- -and then fired several rounds straight into the manifold. It almost instantly exploded, throwing her back.

With the short cleared, the internal switching systems unfroze. Starlight immediately felt her magic returning to full strength and accelerated past the fighters that were pursuing her, firing her own weapons in reverse and cutting away their stabilizers.

Sjdath, thrown back by the explosion, landed beside Trixie.

“Ow,” she groaned. “Hey, pony, are you dead?”

“No,” moaned Trixie, who was smoking slightly from the discharge.

“Unfortunate. I was hoping to eat you. Yet somehow I am pleased.” She lifted the pistol that had just saved her life over her head and looked at it. “Now I can see why harpoon rounds were banned.”

“So much power…”

“I know. Defintly something a human would come up with.”

Trixie laid back silently and did not bother to remind Sjdath that she was not talking about the bullets.

Away from the fighting, a small ship watched the battle from its perch magnetized to the top surface of the Galen 64. On board, Bob, now completely naked, watched the battle unfold on the piloting monitors as she sipped the contents of a juice box.

Marc Antony sat beside her, covering one side of his face with his hand to avert his eyes.

“Why do you have to be so ugly?” he asked, sounding as though he were on the verge of vomiting despite not having a stomach.

“Come on, Marc, you know you like it.”

“No, I don’t. I really don’t.”

“Hey, at least I wear the Cerberus uniform when I have to. But it’s my ship, so I can walk around naked if I want to. Just like Commander Shepard used to.”

“I don’t think Commander Shepard actually did that.”

“Shure he did. Why wouldn’t he? If I was him- -and look at me, I basically am- -I totally would. I would have also totally hit that justicar. Hard.”

“Can’t you just watch ponies get blown up like a normal person?”

“Sure,” said Bob, leaning forward. “But it’s a little boring right now. Why don’t I give them some help?”

She reached out for a small, innocuous button on the complicated control panel.

“Um, that’s the front camera cleaning wiper switch,” said Marc Antony.

“I know. I ran out of switches, so I borrowed this one.”

“I’m glad we didn’t go through any rain, then.”

“Yeah, space rain. Sure.”

Bob pressed the button. Across the battlefield, a pony technician in an obscure storage room turned his head, confused as to why Starlight’s collar was suddenly beeping. He did not have time to ask his several assistants about it, though, because he was instantly atomized by the atomic blast as it detonated, tearing an immense hole into the Harmony from the inside.

The blast nearly knocked Zedok to the floor. “Damnit! What the hell is Starlight doing out there?” She looked around and then ducked behind one of the white walls as a barrage of pony weaponfire came pouring down one of the long overly clean hallways. A group of pony guards was approaching. When Zedok and the others had teleported in, she had gotten a good look at what the ponies had. Some of them had large weapons mounted on their backs like elcor, but a few were unicorn biotics.

Zedok raised her shotgun, preparing to engage. The one good thing about having cybernetic arms was that she could actually handle the recoil properly now, and she was itching to see how well it shot- -but far more hesitant to see what a Graal spikethrower did to a pony.

She never needed to fire. Lrya’s mechanized exoskeleton lumbered by, raising its arm and firing a heavy barrage of blue energy. It continued to march forward, its darkened windows staring almost sadistically as it tore through the pony ranks with every weapon it had available and absorbed their attacks as though they were nothing.

Zedok looked across the hallway and then biotic sprinted to the next perpendicular corridor. Her intention was to take a more outer hallway to try to flank the ponies and take them from behind. Ideally, they would surrender at that point- -but Zedok had mentally prepared herself for the other option as well.

She moved swiftly through the halls of the ship, ignoring the blasts from outside as Starlight poured heavy fire into it, cutting it apart from the outside. Her dark colored armor felt perfect against her body, and she could almost feel her mother’s protection.

Another strong blast shook the Harmony, and Zedok turned a corner- -directly into a group of ponies. She pointed her shotgun at their leader, a pure white winged pony with almost demonic red eyes, and began to pull the trigger.

“Wait, please!” he said. “Don’t shoot! We’re unarmed!”

Zedok release the trigger and lowered the shotgun. She saw that he was right. Him and several other nearly identical male and female ponies- -many of whom were burned or bleeding- -were standing in a group. Some were carrying other ponies of other colors who were much more worse off, their skin blistering and falling away from burns or their blood saturating their white companions. There were no white ponies who were not able to walk on their own power.

“We have wounded,” said the lead pony, “the blast- -it took many of us. We’re not bred for violence. Please, we need help!”

Zedok looked at him, and at his friends, and for a moment she understood her father a little better. The wounded, with their blood and weak moans, made his beliefs make much more sense.

“Come on,” said Zedok, kicking herself for what she was about to do. “We have a doctor. I’ll get you out of here.”

“Thank you,” said the white pony, his red eyes dilating with gratefulness. “Thank you so much.”

On the bridge, Rainbow Dash screamed with rage. “What is happening? Some REPORT!”

“We’ve had a massive internal detonation in the lower decks,” said the breeder assistant, a fresh bruise already growing on her face. “And reports are coming in that we’ve been boarded. They are indicating that there is a…”

“A what?”

“A Questlord anthro unit making its way toward the Core.”

“Heartsrings!” hissed Rainbow Dash. She glared down at Scootaloo. “Is EVERYPONY on your crew a traitor?”

“I don’t know why Lyra would do that,” protested Scootaloo. “It’s not like her!” That was a lie, of course. Lyra was a mercenary. She would do anything for money. Scootaloo was just glad- -and relieved- -that she was still alive. So far, nopony she knew personally had died.

“Mobilize the guards!” said Rainbow Dash. She was clearly straining under the stress of being forced to command both the Harmony and the Fleet. Scootaloo could tell that Rainbow Dash had been expecting an easy victory when instead she had been pulled out of her comfort zone. She was being forced to do Twilight’s job at the expense of her own.

“We have,” said the breeder. “There just aren’t enough- -the Harmony was intended to operate using internal drone units for protection and repair.”

“Then throw everything we have at it! Give the breeders guns!”

“If we spare any more, we will not be able to manage triage repairs or medical first aid.”

Rainbow Dash raised her hoof. “Don’t you question me, farm-raised!”

Scootaloo put herself between Rainbow Dash and the breeder. “We don’t have time for this! Close the internal bulkheads! She’ll be able to cut through them, but they’ll at least slow her down.”

“That’s actually a good idea, squirt. Do it.”

In all the confusion, nopony noticed a green pony with a scarred face and unusually heavy armor making her ways through the halls. Many ponies saw her, but in their rush they did not bother to consider why she was there or who she was. To them, she was just another pony. Nopony even noticed when she walked onto the upper level of the bridge; all the guards were too busy on the lower decks fighting her exoskeleton.

Of the three ponies on the upper bridge, the first to notice Lyra was the breeder. Her red eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to warn the other two, but Lyra lunged before she could speak.

She crossed the distance and leapt onto Rainbow Dash’s back. The Pegasus cried out, fluttering her wings and gaining lift as she tried to escape, but Lyra held on tightly, her cybernetic arms pressing around the Fleet Commander’s neck.

“Lyra!” cried Scootaloo. “What are you doing?!”

“Get off me you undead bitc- -”

“Starlight! I have her! Do it! NOW!”

A surge of magic homed in onto Lyra’s, and in a surge of blue light, Lyra and Rainbow Dash flashed out of existence.

“No!” cried Scootaloo. “Rainbow Dash!”

The room fell silent quickly. Rainbow Dash’s breeder froze, and the ponies in the lower bridge just seemed to stop. They murmured in confusion.

Scootaloo looked around, panicked. She knew that Rainbow Dash had been teleported- -she hoped it had been a teleport, anyway, and could not bring herself to consider the other option- -but she had no idea to where.

“Rainbow Dash?” said Scootaloo, activating a comlink on Rainbow Dash’s now empty control interface. “Come in, Rainbow Dash!”

There was no response. Scootaloo was alone, and the implications of that suddenly hit her. The Fleet no longer had a commander.

“Your orders?” asked the female breeder.

“My- -MY orders?”

“You were identified as second in command. We are awaiting your orders.”

“No, I can’t, I’m not supposed to- -”

“You have to,” said the breeder, her professional demeanor momentarily breaking down. “The Fleet needs a leader. Especially now. We’re…we’re scared.”

Scootaloo looked back toward the door of the bridge. She wanted to run and hide. She had never wanted this- -she had never even wanted to be in the navy. This was Rainbow Dash’s job, and the only reason Scootaloo had gone along with it was to be with the mare she loved.

She did not run, though. She took a deep breath and stepped to the edge of the upper bridge. She could not believe what she was doing, but she knew that somepony had to do it. “I am assuming control as Fleet Commander!” she shouted, addressing them. “All of you, get back to your posts and get me a report on the other ships in the fleet!” Scootaloo stepped back to the main portion of the bridge and lowered Rainbow Dash’s command interface. She turned to the breeder. “What’s your name?”

“My name?” she asked, confused. “It’s 992-Station AG233-Subgroup 6- -”

“I can’t remember all that. Your name’s Wintrygust now.”

“Okay,” said Wintrygust, slightly surprised.

“Situation?”

“Onboard, the anthro unit appears to have departed by teleport. As has the unnamed enemy ship containing the EQX Core. I would hypothesize that they were only distractions. Their goal must have always been the Fleet Commander.”

“Connect me to the Fleet.”

“Connection established.”

“All units,” said Scootaloo, shivering as she realized just how many ponies of equal or greater rank she was addressing. “This is Captain Scootaloo of the RENS Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash is no longer able to perform her duties, and as such, I am assuming control of the Fleet. All units fall back into formation. Disengage from the alien fleet and DO NOT ATTACK.”

The hologram in the center of the bridge shifted, and a small hologram of a Pegasus was rendered on one side.

“This is outrageous!” she said. “You do not have the authority to command us!”

“I’m claiming it by right of bloodline.”

“You aren’t even a blood relative of the Fleet Commander! If anything, a ranking admiral should be taking control, not a Captain who should still be scrubbing toilets in the Academy!”

“An admiral like you, Lightning Dust?”

“I am assuming control of this fleet,” she said. “All units, target the front guard and engage on my- -”

“All units, target the RENS Wingpony and prepare to perform an immediate execution on charges of mutiny and high treason!”

Lightning Dust’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”

“Your ship is a multicore battlefrigate. Your Cores are armor plated. They will survive the blast and be recovered. Nothing important will be lost.”

“You little filly fooler- -you don’t have the guts!”

“All units in range reporting target as acquired,” said Wintrygust. “The Harmony’s weapons have also been directed toward the target.

“Then fire on my mark. M- -”

“Wait!” cried Lightning Dust.

“Fall back into formation,” demanded Scootaloo. “And after this stunt, you can expect to be scrubbing toilets yourself.”

Lightning Dust’s hologram looked angrily at Scootaloo, and then vanished. Outside, her battlefrigate shifted back into formation. Scootaloo breathed a long sight of relief and wiped the sweat away from her forehead. Her whole body was shaking. It was clear that she was not meant for this job.

“Winterygust, find a pony named Carrot Top and get her up here.”

“Carrot Top?”

“She has a piece of alien technology in her arm. She’s the only pony here who can open up a communication line with the aliens. I’m not going to start a war here. Not now and not ever.”

Scootaloo sat on her haunches and tried to calm down. As she did, violet light began to condense beside her. It eventually resolved into the shape of an alicorn.

Twilight blinked and looked up at the window. “I’m not where I just was,” she said. “Where am I? And who messed up my bridge!? And why are there so many aliens outside- -oh, hey, would you look at that, a megastructure!”

“Great timing, Twilight,” sighed Scootaloo. “Great timing…”

Rainbow Dash exited the teleport and fell to the dusty ground below. Initially, she was horribly disoriented and stood to find herself on a strange planet. All around her were dirty, unkempt fields overgrown with the anemic descendants of escaped crop plants and long-abandoned buildings. The atmosphere was stale, thin, and cold, but the nebula-filled sky above was shockingly bright and beautiful- -and dotted with several clearly visible vessels high above floating in two clearly delineated battle lines.

There was no time to admire the sky, though. Rainbow Dash spun around spread her wings defensively. Lyra had released her and stood back, a thin smile crossing her hideous scarred lips.

“Traitor!” cried Rainbow Dash, rushing forward, only to slam headlong into a wall of orange energy.

“I am,” said Lyra. “And I’ve never been happier.”

Rainbow Dash backed away and prepared for a different approach. Lyra was a unicorn and as such virtually unstoppable. Still, Rainbow Dash was far faster, even with one damaged wing and one poorly operational transplant. She knew that given the opportunity, she could flank Lyra before the unicorn could react.

Before she could enact her brilliant plan, though, there were several small explosions. Rainbow Dash turned to see a pair of teleportation spells engaging around her. One brought a blue girl, dressed in dark armor and carrying an enormous yellow gun, her body saturated in pony blood. The other brought down the Questlord mecha, which stepped forward and stabilized.

The exoskeleton’s cockpit shifted and the blackened glass opened. An alien tumbled out. Shakily, she reached for a pair of goggles hanging around her neck to cover her silver eyes. “Goddamn it, it’s tight in there,” she said, weakly. “I feel like I just drank a bottle of ryncol and ran a marathon.”

“I told you, the autonavigation system is rough,” said Lrya, unable to suppress a smirk as she crossed to their side of the ruined pasture. “You’ve got the juice, but not the control. It’s amazing you got as far as you did.”

“Still,” said the tattooed human, standing. “That was the second most fun thing in my life.”

“What was the first?” asked the blue girl.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

A third teleportation spell activated, and this time two ponies appeared. At least, Rainbow Dash thought that they were ponies- -until she saw the segmented metal on their spines and the implants on their head.

“You! You did this!”

“It’s over, Rainbow Dash,” said Starlight, stepping forward. “You’ve lost.”

“No, I haven’t,” said Rainbow Dash, laughing at their ignorance. “Do you think getting rid of me will stop my Fleet? My sister will take command immediately, and when she does, you filthy aliens will DIE.”

“Your sister is currently organizing a ceasefire.”

“What?” said Rainbow Dash, angered that a dirty Core would insult Scootaloo so badly. “What are you- -”

Another teleportation spell activated, this one next to Rainbow Dash. This time, it was violet.

Scootaloo immediately appeared beside Rainbow Dash, and beside her, a clockwork alicorn automaton. The robot’s horn glowed, and holographic Twilight Sparkle appeared.

“Scootaloo!” screamed Rainbow Dash angrily. “What the hey are you doing down here! You should be commanding the Fleet like I told you to!”

“I’ve already given the command to end hostilities. We’re pulling back, Rainbow Dash.”

“WHAT? What is WRONG with you?! You’re supposed to be my sister! Kill the dirty aliens! Be a hero like me and DO WHAT I TELL YOU!”

Rainbow Dash pushed Scootaloo, and Scootaloo’s expression immediately hardened.

“You know what?” she yelled, pushing Rainbow Dash back. “I’m done! I’m done with this! I just averted a galactic war, and you’re STILL not happy?! All I ever wanted was to get your approval- -I never wanted any of this! I didn’t want to join the navy, or be a captain, or command the Fleet! I wanted you to marry me and wear an apron and greet you every day when you come home and have your pony babies! But now I don’t even know if I want THAT! Every piece of advice you’ve ever give me has been terrible!” Scootaloo’s voice lowered, and she wiped the tears away from her eyes. “I can’t believe I ever believed in you…you’re not a good pony, Rainbow Dash.”

Rainbow Dash’s eyes widened, and she looked to Twilight. “Back me up on this, Twi.”

“Don’t call me ‘Twi’,” said Twilight, her tone not nearly as angry as Scootaloo’s but just as disapproving. “You just took control of me while I was unconscious and tried to use me to attack sentient lifeforms unprovoked, something I would never condone. That’s a serious breach of trust, Rainbow. I can’t believe you did that.”

“Twilight…”

“We’ll have a lot to talk about later,” said Twilight, turning away from Rainbow Dash. She instead turned to Starlight, who was glaring at her angrily. “We have more pressing issues.”

Scootaloo stepped forward into the space between the two groups. She looked up at Starlight, and then at Trixie.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Trixie, I’m so sorry. That doesn’t make it better, but when you left, I thought- -I thought I would never get to apologize. I’m not going to lose the chance again. You’re a Core, a machine built by the government to power my ship- -but I don’t care. Rainbow Dash was wrong. You ARE a member of my crew. No, you’re my FRIEND. At least, you were until I screwed it up.” She lowered her head. “In Equestria, you’ll always be considered property. But never by me. To me, you’re a pony. You always were. I’m just so sorry.” She sighed. “Thank you for listening.” She started to turn away.

“Wait,” said Trixie, stepping forward and joining Scootaloo.

“Trixie!” said Starlight, her eyes widening.

“Starlight…thank you for all your help. And thank you for being there for me. I wish…I wish I could stay. I wish I could so much. But I’m not like you. I just…I just can’t.” Trixie looked back at Starlight, her eyes quivering. “But I can never be the same. Not after what they did to me. And she needs me, Starlight.”

“If you go with them, you can never come back. You know that, right?”

Trixie smiled. “I know.”

Starlight reached out a foreleg, as if she were going to try to stop Trixie from leaving, but Jack put a hand on her shoulder. “No,” she said. “You have to let her make her own choices.”

Trixie rejoined the other group with Scootaloo.

“As for you,” said Twilight. “You’ve done a tremendous amount of damage.”

“And I will do more if I have to. I won’t let you hurt this galaxy. And I won’t let you take me.”

“You know,” said Twilight, her holographic eyes shifting to Rainbow Dash. “You told me something. And I can’t help but wonder if you were right.” She looked back at Starlight. She stared at the unicorn for a long while, and then sighed. “I’m going to list you as destroyed in the battle.”

“What?!” shouted Rainbow Dash.

“Starlight Glimmer, you died today. Your ship was damaged and you succumbed to the trauma. Never return to Equestria. You never should need to. Just go.” She looked up at the beautiful nebula above, even though her eyes were just blind images intended to look real. “Live the life that we never could.”

“Do you think that’s good enough?”

“Starlight?” said Jack, startled.

“After what you did, the crimes you committed? You think you can just exile me and make them go away?”

“We can pay reparations if that- -”

“That’s not what I mean. Sure, you can apologize endlessly for what you did to me- -while you keep doing it to others.” Starlight’s eyes narrowed, and she stepped forward, facing the holographic alicorn. “Yes, I’ll stay here. I’ll life my life as I see fit, as a pony among equals. But I’m not going to let you get away with this. I’ll be back. I don’t know when, but I WILL return, for the other Cores and the breeders and any other ponies that your sick society is exploiting. I will bring Equality to Equestria, Twilight. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Twilight neither frowned nor smiled. She just looked at Starlight, almost curiously. “I suppose you will. Perhaps we will be ready for you when you return.” She directed her attention toward Lyra. “And you?”

“There’s nothing for me in Equestria. Not anymore.”

“So be it. You have served more than long enough. You can rest now, if that is your choice.”

The Twilight hologram looked back at Starlight, and then faded. Trixie waved to Starlight one last time before her, Scootaloo, Rainbow Dash, and the alicorn robot were engulfed in violet energy and teleported away. Starlight looked upward, and far overhead, the pony fleet began to illuminate with blue and white light as it teleported away, returning to Equestria. The battle was over, and the war averted- -and yet somehow, Starlight still felt so bad.

Zedok lowered her shotgun and approached Starlight, putting her hand on the unicorn’s shoulder.

“It’s over,” said Jack. “Let’s go home, Star.”

“Yeah,” said Starlight, looking up at the sky and into the depths of space. “Home…”