A formation of crystalline ships passed by, their structures glittering from a combination of the Failure’s forward lamps and their own internal luminescence. Their motion was mechanical and precise, and their coordination was perfect. More perfect than a living pony would ever be able to achieve.

Wintrygust leaned back in the captain’s chair, watching them pass as she waited. Across the bridge, Blossomforth fidgeted in her chair.

“Is something wrong, ensign?”

“No,” said Blossomforth, returning to her work. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“She’s just nervous,” yawned Sassaflash, almost sending the ship into a spin as she rolled over on her controls. Fortunatly, Wintrygust had remembered to lock her out of the helm.

“I don’t know how you’re not,” said Blossomforth. She looked up as another group of crystals paused as if to examine their ship, and Wintrygust watched as Blossomforth inhaled sharply.

“I’m not nervous because I trust Princess Twilight,” explained Wintrygust. “We have been given permission to approach this area. And I do not doubt the Princess.”

“Well, that’s good,” said the resident clingon, who the crew had begun to address as Pinkie. She leaned excessively close to Wintrygust. “Because if she was wrong. Even a little wrong. Even the teensiest, tiniest bit wrong, we’d get blown to the teensiest, tinniest pieces!”

That, Wintrugust did not doubt. She was technically old enough to have seen the latter end of the Crystal War, but despite being property of the navy she was only ever deployed in administrative roles. The Crystal Empire had always been somewhat of an enigma to her- -until she had seen the recent battle unfold before her eyes.

She had maintained some level of unrealistic hope that the Crimson Horizon would still be moving in a straight line, largely unguarded and unprotected. That retrieving Scootaloo would simply be a matter of boarding it and finding her. Their luck had not been so good.

There was nothing they could do in the battle except watch. The Failure was a modified freighter, and even if it had weapons, Trixie was nearly depleted. Their tenure in the battle would have been short, violent, and pointless.

Their presence had come to serve a purpose, though. As the crystals departed back toward the Imperium, their glow illuminated the trail of wreckage that the Crimson Horizon had left behind. It had charged forward with what seemed like absolute disregard for its own safety or integrity, and it had payed dearly for it. Pieces of it were strewn across several star systems. Some of them were nearly the size of the Failure, and some were larger, all trailing in a long debris field. It just so happened that the Failure’s primary purpose was trash surveying.

“This is pointless,” said Blossomforth. “How is this possibly going to help?”

“You are terribly impatient, aren’t you?”

“You’re the one who had a pedophilic obsession with our former captain. By your logic, shouldn’t we be hurrying this along? Or at least doing SOMETHING. But I guess that’s just your instinctive response.”

“Alright then,” said Wintrygust. “If you were in command, what would you do, Blossomforth? Because I am clearly only a little breeder, and I don’t have the capacity to think for myself.”

“Oh,” said Pinkie. “Then why did you get to be captain? Can I be captain?”

“Pinkie,” said Wintrygust, calmly. “Why don’t you go attend to the Core? I’m sure she gets terribly lonely. And…” Wintrygust trailed off. What she wanted to say was that somehow, it seemed like Trixie knew that something was wrong. The ship was not moving like it should. The implication of that, though, was that Cores had some capacity to feel even when connected to a starship. Just the idea of it made Wintrygust shiver.

“Okie dokie loki!” said the clingon. She grinned and obeyed Wintrygust’s orders- -at least for now. In all honesty, she terrified Wintrygust. Clingons were known to be dangerous, but usually only in large groups or in areas that had been abandoned for too long. There were stories, tales of how they sometimes became carnivorous- -but Pinkie was at least marginally competent, and Witnrygust needed as many hooves on deck as she could acquire.

As Pinkie was making her way toward the door, a tone filled the cabin. Pinkie stopped, and everypony else froze. Wintrygust tapped on her command projection.

“Dr. Heart?”

“Yeah,” said Heart. Her voice sounded strange, and not just because of the distortion through the ship’s dying systems. It was as though she were on the verge of giggling- -or weeping. “I’ve found something.”

“What?”

“Um...yeah. It’s probably better if you see it.”

“I’ll be right down.” Wintrygust terminated the connection and stood up. “Blossomforth, you will come too.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Because I asked you too. And I’m the acting captain. Pinkie, you have the bridge.”

“The clingon? You can’t be- -”

“On. ME.”

Pinkie saluted. She was wearing a spare uniform, and she looked almost like an earth pony sailor. That only made her more unnerving.

Blossmforth followed, doing as she was told. As the door closed behind them, she immediately voiced her opinion on Wintrygust’s orders.

“You did that to spite me!” she said, trotting to the side of the equally-sized and equally-white Pegasus.

“No, I did not.”

“Road apples, you put the damn clingon in charge over me! Those things aren’t even sentient, you know that, right? They just repeat the same lines over and over and ghhhh- - ” she shuddered. “It’s just so gross looking!”

“The ship is not moving. It is not active. Pinkie and Sassaflash can handle it.”

“I could handle it better! But you’re a vengeful little- -”

Wintrygust stopped and glared at Blossomforth. Blossomforth recoiled. It must have looked strange, seeing nearly exact copies of her own eyes looking back at her- -a sight that Wintrygust had seen countless hundreds upon hundreds of times.

“I chose you because I thought you would be useful.”

“For what? Running an errand?”

“And what, exactly, do you expect that we’re going to find down there? What, exactly, do you think Heart managed to salvage? I’m not trained in combat. I made the mistake of thinking I could be, and I won’t make that mistake again. You are. If something goes wrong, I need somepony I can trust.”

“Why the hell would you trust me?”

Wintrygust stepped into one of the ship’s stairwells and spread her wings. “Because who can you trust more than a sister?”

Before Blossomforth could retort, Wintrygust descended the center channel between the narrow staircases. Blossomforth said something under her breath that echoed through the stairwell, but spread her own wings and followed.

Dr. Heart’s laboratory had expanded vastly to accommodate her current project. Before, it had occupied just one of the smaller storage bays. Now, she had moved a significant amount of equipment to the floor below and taken over one of the Failure’s docking bays.

When Wintrygust entered this bay, she was immediately struck by the smell. It was not the normal chemical smell that seemed to follow Heart around, but something darker and more sour. The far side of the room was dominated by a large, badly damaged piece of black-brown material that seemed to be growing around a cleaner, more technological-looking element that had become pitted and broken underneath the encroaching growth.

This was a fragment of the Crimson Horizon. It had not been easy to find one that still showed any signs of possible computer activity, let alone one that fit on board- -but this one did.

Heart emerged from one of the side-rooms of the bay. Her hair was somewhat unkempt, and her apron was covered in dark stains that Wintrygust assumed to be oil. As she approached, the sickening smell grew more intense.

“There you are,” she said. “Come on. You have to see it.”

“Come on?” Wintrygust was confused. She pointed at the piece of the Crimson Horizon. “But it’s over there…”

Heart looked up. “That?” she snorted. “I’m a biologist. I wouldn’t know what to do with that piece of junk unless, well, I was also me. Oh wait, I am. Needless to say, it is dead. I killed it.”

“You what? Dr. Heart, we need the information- -”

“I didn’t say I didn’t get information,” snapped Heart, her demeanor suddenly changing to threatening. Then she giggled. “You really, really need to see it.” She smiled for a moment, and then started to return to the room she had come from. Wintrygust and Blossomforth looked at each other, and then hesitantly followed her into the darkened room.

The smaller room had been outfitted with a large portion of Heart’s surgical equipment, including a large autopsy table. When Wintrygust’s eyes finally adjusted and she saw what was on the table, she cried out in surprise.

“Startling, I know,” whispered Heart. What she had been working on was not a computer or remnant of memory equipment; rather, it was the partially disassembled body of one of the things that now inhabited the Crimson Horizon.

“Heart!” cried Wintrygust. “Why didn’t you inform me- -this, it can’t be here!”

“It has to be here. You said you wanted the information, didn’t you?” Heart pointed at the wreckage in the other room. “Because that doesn’t look like the Core to me. I’m no expert, but, I AM and expert. The Crimson Horizon wasn’t built to use frame recording, and I don’t think it switched to it since whatever that is grew up through it.”

“Then how can we find any records?” asked Blossomforth.

“Short of pulling the Core’s brain, you can’t. Or interrogating the crew.” She turned to the abomination lying on the table. Wintrygust had not realized how close it actually looked like a pony, albeit one with mostly hairless, taught skin and an elongated body. This one had been partially peeled, revealing the circuitry and components inside it that its organic portions were stitched to. Its head, though, was by far the most grotesque part. Its blank, dead-eyed expression and gaping mouth were just too pony like. It also appeared that parts of its skull had been removed and the internal parts of its brain and spinal implants linked to Dr. Heart’s equipment.

“What are you going to do?”

“Tell me, breeder. Is it dead?”

Wintrygust looked up at Heart, who was breathing heavily with excitement. “I defer to you on this, Heart. Also, I have a name.”

“Of course you do. I have several. But the answer is, no. No! It’s still alive!”

“It isn’t breathing,” said Blossomforth, poking hesitantly at one of its blade-like limbs.

“That’s because it doesn’t have to! The entire inner structure is built like a life support system! Every organ is self-contained! If this were a pony, it would have died with these injuries, but it didn’t. It’s broken, but the brain- -the BRAIN is still viable.”

“Heart,” said Wintrygust. “You were there. We saw these things. They can’t talk.”

“That’s the thing!” Heart moved toward its head. “The implants are…crude? Ingenious? Both. The brain is much, much more advanced than it needs to be. Much of it was blocked off, at least partially. It’s part of how we force Cores into permanent unconsciousness. Asleep, but with complete cognitive capacity.”

“And you removed it.”

“More than that. This support system- -I intend to wake it up.”

Wintrygust paused. “Do it.”

Blossomforth’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“I trust your judgement, Heart. If you think this creature will be able to communicate, if there is even a chance we can find Scootaloo, do it.”

“I don’t think- -”

Heart did not wait for Blossomforth to finish. Her horn glowed, and several of the machines activated, forcing fluid into the open skull cavity of the creature.

Its eyes flickered, and it suddenly gasped. Its torso shot up, but it appeared unable to move its legs. It looked around, seemingly confused, and its silvery eyes widened.

“I don’t- -it hurts. It hurts so much!” it cried in a distorted but all-too-pony-like voice.

“It can talk,” said Blossomforth, who looked like she was about to faint at the sight of the partially functional corpse drooling and looking around the room. Wintrygust, however, did not feel fear- -she was too focused on the look of terror on the creature’s face.
“Of course it can. The brain is pony.”
“Pony?” said Wintrygust, even though she already knew.

“I don’t- -I don’t know where I am!” it cried, its voice quaking.

“You are on an Equestrian ship,” explained Wintrygust.

“Ship? I don’t- -where’s my daddy? Who are you? Why are you- -” It tilted its head back and screamed. It was a horrible sound of pure agony, and it shifted partway through. It collapsed, breathing hard, and looked up at Wintrygust and spoke with a female voice. “Please…please help me. The sirens, we need to get to the shelters. My baby, where….where…” It shifted again. “So much…so much pain…”

“Heart?” demanded Wintrygust. She was shaking now, but Heart was grinning madly.

“I can’t believe it. Sweet Celestia…I was right.”

“HEART?”

“It’s not just one brain,” said Heart, giggling. “It’s not just one pony! It’s several. Sewn together.”

“Oh sweet Luna,” said Blossomforth, stepping back.

“What?”

“I know! It’s brilliant! This- -this is the most amazing creature I have ever witnessed!”

“You sick bastard,” said Blossomforth, who promptly vomited. Heart did not even seem to notice; the vomit just mixed with the black fluid that caked the floor- -the same black fluid that was oozing from the creature’s wounds.

“Why would somepony do this?” asked Wintrygust.

“Why don’t we ask?” Heart leaned forward to the creature, who was now looking around the room wildly. “Who did this to you, dearie? Who is your creator?”

“Sunset Shimmer,” it said in several voices simultaneously. “We exist- -we- -drawn from void, create, serve the one who creates- -we are her, and she is- -so much, so much pain! We serve the Her!”

“Sunset Shimmer? The Core?”

“Seems logical,” said Heart. She caressed the body of the creature. “But I didn’t know little Sunset was capable of such quality work…”

“She doesn’t- -oh Celestia- -if she knew!” screamed the creature. “If- -I can’t, I shouldn’t see but I CAN’T STOP! IF ONLY SHE KNEW!”

“Shhh, shhh,” said Wintrygust, grabbing onto the creature’s head. It was deathly cold, and the skin felt waxy and dead. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Daddy? Is that you? I can’t- -I can’t find mommy…the noise…why do the things in the dark I not see them? Why when do they look back at me? Make them stop! Make them…make me stop…”

“What is happening to it?”

“The thing I told you about? Yeah, it was basically a regulator. Without it, the brain is burning itself out. I suggest you hurry.”

Wintrygust swallowed and nodded. She turned to the creature. “I need your help,” she said. “Please. The mare I love is missing. Scootaloo. Please. Please help me find her.”

The silver eyes of the creature locked onto Wintrygust’s, and something moved behind its pupils. It nodded. “Sunset Shimmer…she doesn’t know…ponies came. You…we saw you…”

“That’s right,” said Wintrygust.

“She…orange…ORANGE…” the creature gasped and suddenly lurched forward, grabbing Wintrygust with one of its scythe-like forelegs. “Xyuka…find Xyuka. Xyuka knows. She…oh Celestia…what she…no…please MAKE IT STOP!”

It started weeping and released Wintrygust. The equipment connected to it made a sound, and Heart opened an interface panel. “He gave us a tracking signal,” said Heart, confused. “I have no idea what it’s for, but I’ll be damned if it’s not unique.”

“Can we trace it?” said Wintrygust.

“Can I trace it- -of course I can trace it.”

“Please,” gasped the creature, looking up at Wintrygust. “Please…I don’t want to know anymore. So many…so many will die…if she…if she…” It rolled its head to the other side. “So much pain. It hurts…so much. So afraid…we were just ponies. Just ponies. She took our world…” It convulsed. “I can’t…I can’t. Please. PLEASE. I want to…die. Kill us…help us. Kill us. Wan…die…”

Wintrygust looked up at Heart. Heart shrugged. “We have everything we can get out of it. I suppose we can euthanize it now.” She picked up her hunting rifle from the corner and chambered one of the enormous square bullets. Instead of pointing it toward the creature, though, she levitated it to Wintrygust.

“What…what are you doing?” said Wintrygust.

“The euthanasia,” said Heart. Her smile became much more broad. “I want to see you do it.”

Wintrygust blinked. “I’m not qualified for that,” she said.

“It has a brain.” Heart pointed. “Shoot it in the head. Here.” He unfolded part of the gun to produce a large paddle on one side. “I’ll even set it to hoof-fire for you. The coil is already charged with my magic. Point. Shoot. Make it die.”

“Why?” said Wintrygust. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I’m putting a lot on the line here, aren’t I?” laughed Heart. “You want me to trace that code? Bring this rickety ship with a dying Core into yet another hornets nest of these things? I’m willing to serve you, Wintry. I really am. But only if you prove that you are somepony I can put myself behind.”

“Please,” whispered the creature. “Please, mommy. Just…make the pain go away…”

“You don’t have to do it,” said Blossomforth, putting her hoof on Wintrygust’s shoulder. She reached up for the gun. “I’m a soldier. I will do it on your behalf.”

Wintrygust stopped her. “No.” She reached up and took the weapon. As she did, the levitation field stopped and it fell into her hooves. It was surprisingly heavy.

“There you go,” said Heart, stepping back. “I hear that your subspecies had been bred to absolutely never attempt to kill a pony. From what I can tell, you’re about to kill at least six. Can you do it, breeder? Can you- -”

Wintrygust put the square barrel of the gun against the creature’s head and fired. The top of its skull exploded with black fluid and brain material, soaking her white coat in its blood.

It convulsed and smiled. “Thank…you…” Then it fell limp.

Heart and Blossomforth both looked at Wintrygust for a long moment that was only interrupted when Wintrygust passed the rifle back to Heart. Heart took it- -and immediately burst out into manic laughter.

“You, I like you! Congratulations, Captain.” She curtsied like the noble she was, which in an apron covered by blood looked like a sick parody of what such a bow was supposed to mean. “Lady L. Heart III of Heartmoor, at your service. I will have the trace installed within the hour.”

Wintrygust only nodded. She shook some of the stinking black fluid off herself, and then started to walk back to the main room. Blossomforth followed, but Heart remained, continuing to caress the now mostly headless corpse of the creature.

“Why?” said Blossomforth when they were out of earshot of Heart. “Why did you do that?”

“Because it was in pain,” said Wintrygust, her voice cracking. “I just thought…when I am like that...when I am old and in pain, and they come to euthanize me…I would want Scootaloo to be the one to pull the trigger…”

She suddenly collapsed and vomited. She then started weeping. “But it still…it hurts. I’m not like you, Blossomforth! I’m not outbred! I wasn’t…I wasn’t meant to kill…”

Blossomforth just watched as Wintrygust sat in a mixture of vomit, synthetic blood, and tears. Eventually, the crying passed, and Wintrygust stood, shaking. “Go ahead,” she said.

“Go ahead? And do what?”

“Disparage me. Berate me. It’s what you do, isn’t it?”

“I will,” she said. “But not right now. Come on.” She led Wintrygust toward the door. “Let’s hit the showers. I promise I won’t say anything until we’re out.”

Wintrygust nodded and followed her sister out of the cargo bay.