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The Maretian

by Kris Overstreet

Chapter 168: Sol 287

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AMICITAS FLIGHT THREE – MISSION DAY 291
ARES III SOL 287

“Staaaar-liight.”

The hiss woke Starlight Glimmer instantly. The cave was almost pitch black, with only the faint reflections from the life support box’s indicator lights shimmering from hundreds of thousands of crystals. She could pick out the enchanted solar relay crystals in the ceiling; they were the ones that didn’t reflect. Part of her wondered what the chunks of crystal on the other end of the connection, scattered across the hillside above the cave, looked like at this time of night.

But the rest of her bucked that thought in the chin and set it in the corner to sleep off the concussion. Dragonfly had come out of her cocoon.

“Staaaar-liiiight.”

And from the raspy sound in her voice, the way she dragged out her vowels, and above all the way she was far, far too close for comfort, Dragonfly hadn’t come out in a sane frame of mind.

What am I going to see, Starlight thought, when I turn my head? Mark saw Johanssen, one of his old crew. Will I see Sunburst? Twilight Sparkle? Dragonfly as she was before this horrible experience began?

She slowly turned her head. What she saw wasn’t much, not in the dim light. But two blue eyes shone almost as brightly as the indicator lights into the darkness of the cave, and the reflections from all the quartz on the walls and ceiling were just strong enough to produce secondary reflections on a host of sharp teeth, crowned by a set of long fangs- very long fangs, very close to Starlight’s person.

But Starlight Glimmer had been prepared for this very possibility, and she didn’t need mana batteries for what she had in mind.

Light is the single easiest spell to cast. Unicorns instinctively learn telekinesis first, but light has the cheapest energy cost. In fact, since using magic causes things to glow in the color of the user’s magic, it’s far harder to prevent magic from making light than it is to use it to make more. Thus, a quick flash-bulb spell right in Dragonfly’s face proved no strain at all for, if she did say it herself, the most powerful unicorn of modern Equestria.

The changeling hissed, backing off a couple steps, forehooves flailing in front of its eyes. This allowed Starlight to leap to her hooves, face Dragonfly properly, and bring the second part of her plan into effect.

Dragonfly had almost blinked the suns and stars out of her vision when water began spraying right into her face, She hissed again, flinching and closing her eyes, backing away from the voice that shouted, “NO! BAD CHANGELING! BAD! NO CUPCAKE!”

Starlight had to tap her reserves a bit to keep the mostly-full plant mister in the air, but compared to spells she’d cast on Mars this barely qualified. She stepped forward, trying to guide Dragonfly to a wall away from the cocoon…

… and stepped too close, Two black hooves in the black cave grabbed for the not-black mister and snatched it out of Starlight’s telekinetic grip before she could react. The glow of Dragonfly’s eyes vanished completely, and there was a sound of gulping, of gasping, and coughing.

The changeling was just catching her breath again, having guzzled down the contents of the spray-bottle, when something rather light and skinny but with a lot of torque slapped her in the side of the head with a loud clack.

“BAD CHANGELING!” Starlight shouted between wild swings of the long plastic pole. “BAD BUG! LAZY BUG! Um… um… THERE ARE LARVA STARVING IN NEIGHPON!” Again and again she swung, hoping this was doing some good.

Green fire surrounded her. Starlight felt herself be lifted off the ground, then hurled with tremendous force down the length of the cave. She had almost five whole seconds to think about how stupid she was and to wonder what she’d hit and how deeply she’d be impaled before, to her own immense shock, she hit the mostly-full well with an almighty splash.

Starlight came up again, coughing and spluttering, flailing wildly for the concreted side of the well. Her hooves found something solid, and the comfort of touch brought her back to her senses. She pulled herself up and out of the chilly runoff water, ignoring how the dirt from the cave floor clung to her wet fur and bit and scratched at the skin underneath.

From quite a long distance away two blue eyes stared back at her. A buzzy, raspy voice shouted, “I’m going to…” It coughed for a moment, then continued, “I’m going to go out on a limb (*cough cough*) and assume that you really (*cough*) are Starlight and this (*cough hack hack*) is not a dream.”

It then collapsed in a full-on coughing fit that lasted for about ten seconds. Starlight had walked almost halfway across the distance between the well and the sick-sounding changeling when the empty plant mister dropped onto her head.

“More water, please,” Dragonfly croaked.


Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die.

I am here. You are not a rock. Give me orders.

I am here. I will not give up. I am here.

No… no, but I saved Trixie! We escaped the Storm King! This can’t be happening! It’s not my fault! This is not how it went!

She ignored the voices. They came and went, and they almost never made sense. They were probably all dreams anyway.

In her more lucid moments she remembered who she was, where she was, and why she was there. She hated those moments, and she tried to carry herself away from them, to shut down her mind so that she wouldn’t have to remember anymore. It didn’t help that the voices were loudest during those times, even if they talked about nonsense like dwarves (what’s a dwarf?), hobbits (what’s a hobbit?), and saving rolls versus lava (that just had to be a dream, it was so stupid).

But now the voices weren’t going away. She couldn’t go back to sleep. She couldn’t let her mind dissolve. It, like her body, was putting itself back together.

Everything was telling her that it was time to come out of the cocoon, except the part of her that was her. That part curled up tighter and said, No. No. No.

And then a new voice, faint but stern, said, Hello, alien. What will you do?

She had the sensation of being lifted out of herself, of standing without hooves in a place with no light, no sound, but an abundance of Presence. And, for the moment, all of that presence had directed its attention to her with an eyeless gaze that burned.

It demanded an answer, but she didn’t understand the question. Who are you, ma’am? she asked.

Irrelevant, the stern voice replied. You must decide. What will you do?

Is this a dream? she asked. Or is this real?

Irrelevant, the voice repeated. Dreams are real enough. And real things may end as dreams. Cease putting off your decision, alien.

I don’t know what you’re talking about! she protested, feeling phantom tears on her face and muzzle.

The gaze rotated around her, unseen, unseeable, and pitiless. Predator, the stern voice said. Not one of mine, but I know you. Your kind began as monsters, then became parasites, and now have some faint pretensions towards animal husbandry. I have seen it before. I have seen it all before.

I still do not understand, she pleaded.

You come from a soft world, the voice continued. Death can be cheated. It can be negotiated with, It can even be befriended. It said the last word with a disgusted drawl. But you have come to a world not so soft. A trillion fragile islands, this planet not being one of them, in an infinite sea of uncaring, unthinking, unstoppable death. In this world all struggles are ultimately futile.

The gaze drew back, no longer burning her, but still a force. If she had a hoof to point- if there were directions in this place for pointing- then she could point straight at it. I begin to understand, she said quietly.

Do you? the stern voice asked. Mine which move have two strategies, alien. Most of them make as many of themselves as possible as fast as possible. They know they will lose most, and they don’t care. They know the odds are that they themselves will be lost, and they don’t care. The individual is nothing; every one for itself.

Um, she said, that doesn’t make sense.

The other strategy, the stern voice said, is the exact opposite. Make a few of yourselves, but invest all your energy into those few, and treasure them. Protect them. The individual is all; let us therefore unite as one.

No, she said, I guess I don’t understand after all.

Don’t you? the stern voice said. You have lived in both strategies, alien. Now you must decide between them.

What happens when I choose?

What happens.

She sat in the space which was not space, for a time of no time at all, trying to think, unable to comprehend.

And then the burning intensified, and she was inside the gaze, and the voice hammered her from all sides, including the inside.

CHOOSE!

And the next moment Dragonfly felt herself dropped, unceremoniously, onto the dirt under her cocoon. She barely remembered feeling her right forehoof kick down to open the flap; she didn’t remember deciding to do it.

From about ten steps away she heard snoring.

It took a moment for her to find her feet; she’d twisted her right foreleg when it got caught under her in the short fall. She coughed; she was dry, dry, dry, and her throat rasped with every breath.

She took a closer look at the pony sleeping in the dark cave. Why only one? she thought. If she’s the only survivor, that’s horrible. Otherwise, that’s stupid. Didn’t I make it clear I’m dangerous?

The cave was dark, but she could see the long mane and the horn in the light reflecting off all the crystals. She watched her hind legs twitch; she was obviously having a nightmare of some kind.

Well, might as well wake her up, then get a drink, and get back in the cocoon. Hopefully she wouldn’t have any more weird dreams herself. Philosophy was much scarier than Badlands monsters, any day.

“Starlight.” It came out almost incomprehensibly to her own ears, and she had to swallow a coughing fit from how her dry throat burned with the effort of talking. She tried to work up some saliva, but she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. She was actually, she realized, panting with thirst.

But Starlight was awake. She’d seen the single twitch, followed by the unnatural stillness. She felt apprehension rising off of her in waves. But she wasn’t getting up, wasn’t screaming. Was something wrong? “Staaaarlight,” she called, trying to make it gentle, but her voice wasn’t going to cooperate. Still no movement.

Dragonfly had just about decided to let Starlight lay a moment longer so she could go get some water from the faucet at the lower end of the farm when the sun went off about half an inch from the end of her nose.

From there things happened which ended with Dragonfly dunking Starlight in the well, by which point any thoughts of bizarre voices talking to her in the cocoon had flown entirely out of her head.


Pony and changeling sat across from each other, the pony using a tiny bit of light to illuminate the air above The Stump.

Dragonfly looked… shriveled. The holes, while not as large as they’d been, were larger than normal. Her chitin actually sagged against her muscles. Everything except the eyes looked much as she’d looked the day she’d grabbed a ton of rocket engine in her magic. But the eyes were open, alert, and glowing, and the voice had come back after another spray-bottle’s worth of water.

“So, what are you doing here?” the bug asked.

“Trying to get you to come out of that cocoon,” Starlight replied. “We’ve been trying to coax you out for two months now.”

“Really?” Dragonfly sounded like she didn’t believe it. “Why would you do something as stupid as that?”

“Don’t be silly,” Starlight snapped. “We couldn’t possibly leave here without you.”

Those glowing blue eyes half-lidded themselves. “That’s sweet,” Dragonfly said, “but you can’t let pony sentiment make your decisions here. I’m dangerous to everyone around me. Isn’t that obvious?”

“No, listen,” Starlight insisted. “Quit making this about yourself. We literally cannot leave here without you. Spacesuits. Electronics work. Rope and netting for the rovers. Padding for the batteries. Stuff like that.” With a flash of blue magic, she picked up her torn spacesuit and threw it at the changeling. It draped over her like a puffy blanket.

“Oh.” The changeling’s ear-fins drooped a bit. She reached up with her hooves and pulled off the suit. She examined the hole, the last splotches of the previous patch. “What have you been using?”

“Your suit, of course,” Starlight said. “For over three weeks now.”

Dragonfly nodded, setting the suit aside. “I thought this was a pony friendship thing,” she said.

“Never said it wasn’t,” Starlight said. “But pony friendship could have been left for another six months. We need suit patches and a ship’s engineer right now.”

Dragonfly shrugged; pragmatism was, after all, a changeling racial trait. “I’m still dangerous, you know,” she said. “I’m pretty hungry even now. Not as bad as I was, but I could get that bad again. When we leave the cave behind, for sure.”

“Then we’ll figure something out,” Starlight said. “Worst case, we can keep your cocoon around for the ride to Schiaparelli, so long as you give us some means to tell you it’s time to come out.”

“But-“

“No buts. Look at me.” Starlight stared straight into the glowing eyes. “I know every argument you can make on this because I’ve been there. You sucked Mark dry and left us a mare down. Then when you realized what you did, you ran away. I know exactly how that feels because I did the exact same thing.”

“But you didn’t drain the emotions from-“

“DETAILS,” Starlight shouted, silencing the changeling. “No, I didn’t turn one person into a zombie. Try dozens. I brain-washed a whole village. I stole their lives to make myself feel better. And then I destroyed Equestria about a dozen times. And it took a lot longer for it to sink in that I wasn’t the good guy, Dragonfly. Want to talk about guilt and running away from responsibility? Been there. Done that. Bought the baseball cap.”

“But-“

“No. Whatever it is, no,” Starlight said. “No more running and hiding. You’ve had a two month vacation from Mars. Lucky you. That’s over now. Time to get to work, and believe me, there is a ton of work piled up and waiting for you.”

Dragonfly sighed. “Are you sure-“

“TONS and tons.”

“All right,” she said. “Work. I’m a drone. I know from work.”

“Beginning with apologizing to everyone for running away from the problem,” Starlight said. “Including Mark.” Pause. “Including Chrysalis, come to think of it.”

Dragonfly moaned, flopping forward onto The Stump. “Are you REALLY sure I can’t just go back into the cocoon?” she wailed.


Time passed. Dawn came, and breakfast, and then more people. There were hugs, and angry recriminations, sometimes at the same time.

Then there was the message to Equestria, which produced a very, very long one in reply.

“Do you think she notices she’s now in a mud puddle?” Mark asked.

“Going by what Chrysalis is telling her,” Starlight replied, one ear cocked for the sound of splashing, “probably not.”

“What is she telling her?”

“Nothing you’d put in a hobbit story.”

Eventually the splashing ended, and Dragonfly keyed in a brief message-acknowledged sequence before turning to the others. “I’m sorry I ran away and left you all holding the bag,” Dragonfly said to the gathered castaways. “And Mark, I’m really sorry I sucked you dry and tossed you aside like a juice box.”

“That’s perfectly all- wait, what?” Mark asked. “You have juice boxes back home?”

“Er… yeah?”

“With the tiny little straw in the wrapper and everything?”

“This isn’t important,” Starlight warned.

“Yeah, sure,” Dragonfly said. “Pony kids go around with ‘em all the time.”

“But… but…” Mark appeared much more appalled at the thought of ponies with juice boxes than he’d been about being turned into an emotionless zombie. “But how in the hell do you even-“

“FOCUS!!!” Starlight shouted.

“But… but plastic wrappers and hooves-“

“Actually they’re wax paper wrappers.”

“But that just raises more questions!”

Starlight could hear Fireball muttering behind her, “Humans sure forgive easy, don’t they?”

The unicorn found herself wondering how hard she’d have to hit The Stump with her head before it broke.

The Stump, that is. She couldn’t get so lucky as to break her own head.

Things were already back to normal- SNABU.


[13:21] WATNEY: Hello, Earth. This is Dragonfly. I’m back. I’m sorry I haven’t been around the past two months. I thought I was keeping the others safe, but now I see I was running from my own responsibility. I should have told you all about my species, and I didn’t. I should have warned you I was having problems, and I didn’t. And when I snapped, I ran away rather than try to fix the problem, and I shouldn’t have. I left you all hanging. I’m very sorry, and it won’t happen again.

[13:59] JPL: Hello, Dragonfly. This is Venkat Kapoor. We accept your apology. Right now we want to focus on what’s ahead and not behind. The most important thing is to get work on the Sirius tandem rover back on schedule so you can make your Sol 551 rendezvous with Hermes. Top priority in that department is making sure all your spacesuits are up to maintenance. After that our engineers have some questions about lightening Friendship to make it less of a strain on the rover chassis.

[14:30] WATNEY: Yes, sir, I understand. I’ll do everything I can to help.

[14:59] JPL: So, I’ve been meaning to ask- how did Watney taste? Sweet? Salty? Probably not spicy, but who knows? It’s always the quiet ones, after all!

[15:02] JPL: Kapoor here- I want whoever typed that found and put on the first plane to Ellington Field! His feet have a date with my carpet! Heads will roll!

[15:34] WATNEY: Mark here- busy recording the discussion about flavors of pony. Most interesting fact: Dragonfly’s favorite snack is teenage puppy love, because it’s salty and crunchy.

[16:02] JPL: You just made that up.

[16:33] WATNEY: Once we get to the Ares IV MAV I’ll finally be able to upload all the audio and video I’ve been collecting. You can hear it for yourself. In English.

[17:32] JPL: Bet she can’t eat just one!

[17:35] JPL: I mean it! Rolling heads! I want a name, Bruce!

[17:38] JPL: I am Spartacus.

[17:39] JPL: I am Spartacus.

[17:39] JPL: I am Spartacus.

[17:39] JPL: I am Groot.

[17:40] JPL: I am Brian and so is my wife.

[17:43] JPL: Welcome back, Dragonfly… I think.

Author's Notes:

The voice in Dragonfly's cocoon dream refers to r and K reproduction strategies:

https://www.cs.montana.edu/webworks/projects/stevesbook/contents/chapters/chapter002/section004/blue/page003.html

Next Chapter: Sol 289 Estimated time remaining: 12 Hours, 44 Minutes
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