Flurry in Time

by DuvetofReason

First published 2nd of April, 2020

Ponies. Space. Pirates. Explosions. And an ass kicking. Whose? You get to find out!

Life's tough when you're the most-wanted mare in the galaxy...

Half the world wants you dead. The other half is afraid of your help.

Flurry Heart has turned her back on her family, friends and society, but when a desperate call for help arrives, she is reminded that some things still matter. Now, she must battle her demons from the past to save those she loves - but they have demons of their own they must deal with as well.

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Co-writer: Recon777

Many heartfelt thanks go out to my editors:

Developmental Editing: Recon777, BernardDK, Pawz
Line Editing: Recon777
Copy Editing: TranquilClaws
Proofreading: Oberth Effect

Without their encouragement and support, this fic wouldn't have been possible.

Check out BernardDK's other awesome art here!

Prereaders: Word Worthy, Flutterfinar. Orionwolf, Plonkett

A special nod to Pen Stoke for inspiring the character of Nyx.

Now with a review! https://issuu.com/equestriatimes/docs/040/s/10947601

Chapter 1 - Shipping Accident

The sound of collapsing masonry echoed through the crumbling halls of Nightstone castle, thick dust falling from the ceiling like snow upon the panicked ponies racing to escape. Terrified cries competed with the groan of the castle keep as the weakened structure slipped, causing a tremor beneath her hooves.

Through the chaos, the brave hero Ultra-Mare raced deep into the keep, effortlessly deflecting falling stonework from the crowds with her magical power as she passed. She was not about to let something as trivial as a collapsing building stop her from saving the Prince.

Ripping the double oak doors from their hinges with her telekinesis, Ultra-Mare galloped into the audience chamber. As she entered, she heard a colt scream, spotting his small form as he stared helplessly in blind terror at a falling column.

With a blazing burst of speed, she appeared between the colt and the column, bravely facing down the massive collapsing structure. She was not worried; such things were nothing for a pony such as her. With contemptuous ease, she snapped the column in half, tossing the shattered pieces away.

The colt stared up at her, wide eyed, the danger forgotten as he gazed at her brilliance.

“W-who are you?” he squeaked.

Tossing her mane back, she flashed him a smile. “Don’t worry, kid, you’re safe now. Ultra-Mare is here.”

Suddenly, a strange voice seemed to boom from all around.

“…formal protest today at military manoeuvres carried out by warships of the Pegasus Republic,” a mare announced, her voice unfamiliar.

The world seemed to stop mid-motion, fragments of masonry and clouds of dust frozen in place. Slowly but surely, her surroundings began to evaporate away—first the walls, then slowly the floor.

Flurry Heart looked around, watching the world disappear before her eyes into a black nothingness. She quickly turned to the colt beside her. He was still standing there frozen, his big opal coloured eyes staring up at her in adoration.

"Wait!" she called frantically, as the ground beneath her hooves disappeared and she began to fall.

Flurry's eyes flicked open, frantically searching her surroundings as she sat up straight. The blackness quickly passed, giving way to the dimly lit flight deck of her ship, the Fleeting Dream.

Behind where she sat on her flight couch, the various crew stations sat empty, casting lonely shadows in the white light emanating from the edges of the floor. Ghostly shapes of familiar faces danced in her vision briefly before returning to her subconscious.

The room felt so cold and empty, and even with the droning of the news agent in the background, Flurry felt so very alone.

Something soft sat wedged between her chest and forelegs. A weak smile played at her lips as she looked down, remembering her ever-present companion in this otherwise solitary existence.

Staring up at her, with googly eyes and a permanent grimace on his face, was Whammy. The battered snail plushie bore all the scars one would expect from being nearly two millennia old. His brown body and green shell were pockmarked with hurriedly repaired tears and loose stitching. Flurry suspected that every part of him had been replaced at one time or another. Like a champ, he had endured it all.

"How long have I been asleep?" she asked, groaning as she stretched her legs. She peered up at the ship's chronometer and let out a sigh of relief. "Oh good, I didn't miss them."

“Alliance warships sent to Dragon’s Head have been shadowing Republic moves along the nebula’s border during a tense five-hour standoff,” the news story continued.

It was the same old news. Things like this had been going on since the war ended six years ago. Both sides would rattle their sabres like a pair of yaks at a dinner party, stomping around trying to convince everypony that they were the most dangerous Yak on the block. In the end, one side would blink and the other went home and patted themselves on the back.

Just another day on the border, she thought to herself.

As she shifted on the couch, she felt one of Whammy’s antennae press against her.

She let out a sigh. "Yes, I had the dream again."

The plushie simply stared at her.

"You're not exactly the best person to be asking me about my mental health, you know," she scowled, pulling him close. "It was just nice to win for once."

Flurry's ears flicked as she glanced sideways at the plushie. "I'm fine, okay? I don't ask you what's going on in that fluffy head of yours."

Whammy's antennae bobbed slightly in rhythm with her breathing.

"Yeah, more complaints. Seriously, Whammy, you're starting to sound like a broken record," she huffed.

Her grip on him tightened. "I know, I'm glad somepony is."

She held onto him, rubbing her chin against his antennae. He had always been there for her. Even when everypony else had abandoned and turned their backs on her, he had stayed. Sure, he was cantankerous, forever on her case about something or other, but at least he cared. This was more than she could say about her fellow ponies these days.

"Just don't let it go to your head," she said, setting him down on a nearby console.

With a sigh, she looked up, gazing through the Fleeting Dream's curved viewport at the silvery field of rocks hanging silently in the void of space. They stretched onwards and upwards, forming a shining ring around the aquamarine gas giant beyond. Save for the gently spinning mirrorgate in the distance, the ring system was still, almost like a painting. It was in stark contrast to the churning maelstrom of the gas giant itself with its swirling white clouds shifting across its surface almost as if they were liquid.

It had been beautiful to watch—so beautiful she had evidently dozed off. This was why she hated waiting around; too much time standing still meant that things had a habit of sneaking up on her when she wasn't looking.

Flurry climbed off the flight couch and gave her legs a stretch, feeling her joints give some satisfying cracks. Her back gave a little protest as it always did these days, but a few stretches put everything back where it should be.

As she made her way about the ship’s bridge, there was a rattle as she kicked an empty soda can into the detritus that surrounded her like a besieging army.

"Damn it, Whammy, why are you always leaving your junk around for me to trip over?" she complained, gathering a few empty cans into a bag. Honestly, couldn’t a plushie be expected to pick up after himself?

Whammy simply lay on his side on the sensor console, his eyes gazing impassively at the floor.

"Oh don't be like that," she soothed. "I'll clean up both our messes this time."

As she gathered up some of the empty packets, the ship’s computer made a sudden announcement.

"Incoming transmission. Caller: Ambrosia."

“Amby? Put her through.” She grinned, dropping the bag and kicking it to the side as she stepped in front of the flight couch.

The view of the planet beyond flickered and vanished, replaced by the image of a scrawny female changeling in maintenance coveralls. Her work station was a controlled explosion of paperwork and data discs. Coffee-stained plans and schematics were littered across it, along with a myriad of parts which Flurry could only guess their purpose.

Ambrosia was quite a waif for a changeling. She had managed to make it work to her advantage, shifting into forms that could squeeze into crawl spaces and hatches most ponies couldn't hope to get into. This made her a highly valued technician on Broken Bow.

"Hey! And how's my favourite customer today?" Ambrosia greeted, her green translucent wings buzzing excitedly.

Flurry smiled. "Hey, Amby, what's up?"

The changeling grinned mischievously. "Oh, just a little courtesy call. The buyer of your last merchandise passes on his thanks."

"I live to please," she replied with a theatrical bow.

"I heard the Alliance had a whole battlegroup trying to catch you. That true?" Ambrosia asked, with a hint of concern.

"Just a flotilla of frigates cordoning off the gate," she dismissed with a shrug. "No big deal."

"You always manage to stir up a hornet's nest when you work," Ambrosia chuckled, though her expression shifted, becoming more serious. "You didn't hurt my baby, did you?"

“Come on, have a little faith. The Dream's fine," she assured. "Was a tight squeeze slipping through their cordon but nothing to worry about. You should've seen the other guy.”

The changeling let out a sigh. “And you felt you had to use the gate because…”

“What can I say, I like a challenge.”

“You know, if you’re not going to use that sweet piece of tech on your ship, I can probably get eighty-five million for it on the black market,” Ambrosia retorted with a scowl, crossing her forelegs.

“Don’t you wish,” Flurry shot back, wagging her eyebrows.

"Anyways, I have a little job for you if you're interested. Five hundred thousand…" Her tone practically laced the figure in honey.

"Doing what, exactly?"

"Briar Rose wants you for a simple cargo run, nothing complicated," Ambrosia replied innocently, putting on her best persuasive tone.

Flurry's expression darkened, her tail flicking with irritation. Ambrosia was fairly innocent, as fixers went, but the same couldn't be said for her clients, especially Briar Rose. ‘Cargo’ had a very broad definition of legality in Dragon’s Head: Guns, drugs… ponies.

"Nothing's ever simple with the ponies you work with," Flurry said, eyeing her suspiciously." Besides, I'm busy at the moment."

Ambrosia's blue eyes positively sparkled. "Oooh, anything nice?"

"Just a little favour for a friend," Flurry said. "Nothing special."

Ambrosia pouted, turning her nose up dramatically tossing her stringy teal mane back. "Fine, you keep your secrets. The job's not going anywhere."

"I'll keep it in mind."

"Briar Rose would love to have you on her crew, you know," Ambrosia said, her eyes widening at the prospect. "Could make a lot of moneeeeey."

Her attempt at being enticing only served to irritate Flurry further. "I'm not interested, Amby," she said, narrowing her eyes.

"Okay, okay, forget I asked," Ambrosia conceded, rolling her eyes in defeat. Then, she paused, taking on a serious tone. "Flurry, I want you to watch yourself out there. I heard a rumour that the Pegasus Republic just upped the bounty on your head. I've already had a few shifty types asking about you."

Flurry tensed, her wings fluttering briefly. "How much?"

"Fifty million," Ambrosia said, a fearful awe creeping into her voice. "The Emperor himself put the order out."

Fifty million.

A pony could live comfortably for the rest of their lives with that much money. And there were plenty who would sell their own foals for a piece of that pie.

Flurry grimaced, her expression souring. "Of course he did."

"Are you okay?" Ambrosia asked tentatively.

This was going to make things a lot more complicated when she dropped off her cargo at Rynos. Her troubles with the pegasi were bad enough without having to worry about an army of bounty hunters lurking behind every corner.

Flurry put on her best smile. "Hey, it's me. When are ponies not trying to kill me? Now there's just a few more."

Ambrosia tilted her head skeptically, her wings now still. "This is different, Flurry."

"Mirrorgate activity detected," the Dream's computer announced suddenly.

Flurry hid her sigh of relief. "Looks like my supplier just arrived."

Ambrosia's wings buzzed for a moment. "Okay, you watch yourself out there. I don't want my baby all shot up."

"But fixing the Dream is your favourite pastime," she replied with a smirk.

Ambrosia let out an indignant snort. "I have a life outside of fixing your ship, I'll have you know." She jabbed an accusing hoof at her. "Oh, and I am not your personal mailbox. Stop giving random stallions my address."

"But you're such a good secretary," she replied with a grin, casting a glance to the Dream's sensors.

Ambrosia let out a heavy sigh. “Maybe if you just picked one and settled down, you wouldn’t need to.”

Flurry wasn’t even sure if her friend was being serious or not. “What, and retire?” she replied.

“I’m not saying that. Maybe there’s a guy out there who wouldn’t mind your particular lifestyle.”

She stared at the changeling’s image on the display, trying not to burst out laughing, but no words came from her lips.

"Fine, I take it back. Now, you’ve got a job to do. Stay safe, you idiot."

"Always." Flurry gave a salute with her wing, before the connection ceased.

Flipping the main display back to the ship’s external view, she just caught a ship emerging from the mirrorgate.

Her party guests had arrived.

The first ship to emerge from the mirrorgate burst forth like some kind of spectre, etherium wreathing its hull like ghostly vestments. The light-jade coloured gas quickly boiled away from the ship's hull, revealing the squat form of an Alliance Rose class frigate.

"See, Whammy, I told you they'd come here eventually," Flurry remarked with a triumphant grin at the plushie.

From the amount of etherium coating its hull, the ship had been in mirrorspace a while—perhaps a day or so, by her reckoning. An Alliance warship had little to fear from the inhabitants of the Dragon’s Head nebula, but the risk of political fallout from being discovered meant they still had to be careful.

Common practice was to make periodic jumps back into realspace so the etherium buildup wouldn't gum up the sensors. Restricted to gates, there were only a few places one could do this unseen.

Which had led them straight to her.

Flurry watched as a second frigate emerged from the gate, taking up position alongside its companion. The Dream's passive sensors lit up as a radar pulse radiated out from both ships. Methodically, the two frigates swept the area around the gate, their search radars like torches in the dark.

Flurry wasn't worried; the asteroids of the ring had enough metal in them to hide the Dream at this distance. Ambrosia's little additions to her hull would do the rest.

Satisfied the area was clear, the two warships took up a position on either side of the gate to await their charge. Soon, a massive form emerged, easily five times as long as the warships. As the etherium burned off, the lumbering form of a Centipede class freighter emerged.

"Looks like our intel was right on the money," Flurry said, licking her lips.

The war between the Republic and Alliance might have been over, but everypony knew it was only a reprieve. Both sides were preparing for a rematch, and Dragon’s Head was going to be the battlefield. Dozens of supposedly 'secret' bases and listening posts were scattered across the nebula, and these all needed supplies.

Supplies that Flurry just happened to need as well.

Behind the freighter, a third frigate emerged and quickly moved to join its compatriots. Together, they formed a broad wedge in front of the freighter, moving boldly forward.

"Getting sloppy boys," Flurry said with a predatory grin. "You think you're all alone, don't you?"

A formation like this might have looked nice during fleet manoeuvres, but it was hopeless when it came to defending their charge. Evidently, they weren’t expecting trouble all the way out here.

"Let's get to work, Whammy," she announced. "Computer: Engage silent running."

"Affirmative, Captain."

As she slid back into the flight couch, the Dream stirred into life. A low hum reverberated throughout the ship, signaling its core had powered down.

“Switching to internal CAPS storage. Excess heat diverted to internal sinks,” the computer intoned. “At current draw, venting will be required in fifty-eight minutes.”

A countdown appeared, which began to slowly tick down.

Plenty of time, Flurry thought to herself as she lay prone onto the flight couch. A golden shimmer glinted across her horn as she caused Whammy to hover over from where he sat, and unceremoniously squeezed him between her forelegs.

With a stretch, her legs sank into indents and slots in the side of the couch. A skeletal frame of silvery polished metal extended down from the ceiling, and she stretched out her wings to accept it. Her phalanges found their slots, liquid metal encasing them like a second skin.

She grimaced as the frame clamped down on her back, the cold metal sending goosebumps through her skin. As it reached her head, a small skull cap pressed down and several enchanted rings slotted onto her horn one by one.

"Link established," the computer announced, and Flurry took a breath to prepare herself. "Connection in three, two, one…"

There was a bright flash of light, and as it faded, Flurry found herself standing on the surface of the asteroid. Behind her, the distant light of the system's two suns cast long shadows onto the rocky surface, plumes of frigid gas lingering within them.

She looked around, her vision shifting through the electromagnetic spectrum as the Dream's sensors conveyed information to her. The temperature variations along the Dream's hull passed over her, causing a shiver. A few slow twists of her wings confirmed everything was functioning properly. She was the ship.

Flurry turned towards the approaching convoy, occasional radar pulses radiating out from them in waves. They looked quite serene, gliding above the surface of the rings like boats on a calm sea. Though as they got closer, Flurry was once again reminded of the unique design philosophy of the earth pony tribe.

The Rose class was not a pretty ship by stretch of the imagination—such was not the earth pony way. They were the ultimate expression of function over form, not a single curve or arch blemishing their utilitarian hulls.

At the bow, protected on either side by huge armoured wedges angled downwards, was the bore of the frigate's railgun. To say the ship was built around that gun was no understatement, as it ran along the whole ship's length, ending only at the enormous drive section. The stepped flanks of the ship were festooned with dozens of turrets and missile launchers, all thankfully idle. The hull was painted a dull olive drab, with only a zebra glyph on the ship's bow breaking its spartan form.

As Flurry surveyed one of the ships, something caught her eye that made her blood run cold. A sharp dorsal wing rose from the spine of the frigate like a jagged tooth, and attached on either side, were two unwelcome surprises: a pair of Tumbleweed class corvettes. These were designed to hunt and slay the fighters favoured by the Pegasus Republic. Blunt and simple, the Tumbleweed was a wedge covered in turrets in arcs that gave no ship respite from any angle.

"Looks like the Alliance is starting to up its game," she commented, zooming in to get a better look. Those things would be a real problem if she was spotted. Thankfully, they too sat idle, clinging onto their parent’s neck like sleeping children—very heavily armed children.

The frigates were large, with a crew of several hundred ponies and zebra each, but they were dwarfed by the enormous ship following in their wake. The box-shaped bridge of the Centipede class freighter looked comically small compared to the array of vast house-sized containers that clung to its segmented spine. These containers were all painted in the same olive drab as the frigates and stretched along for two kilocanters, all the way to the ship’s massive drive section at its rear.

Slowly, the escorts passed by, oblivious to her presence. They were close… so close the Dream and the asteroids around her were bathed in a blue light from their engine exhausts.

Above her, the freighter coasted along at its own leisurely pace, blissfully unaware of the predator hidden below and waiting to pounce.

With a thought, a light blue reticle appeared in Flurry’s vision, with a small icon of the ship’s tether launcher beside it. Although unseen, she could sense the launcher rising out of its bay and readying itself to fire. Slowly, she brought it to bear towards a section of containers.

Briefly, the turret became stuck, and she felt resistance through the link before it gave way and the launcher swivelled into position.

"One more thing for Amby to look at during my next visit," she grumbled.

She extended a foreleg out, taking precise aim at one of the containers straddling the massive ship’s belly. It was important not to hit the ship itself, as that would set off an impact alarm and alert everypony that something was up.

Once it was lined up and the range was set, she let loose. A silvery thread silently streaked up towards the freighter, the ‘remaining cable’ indicator on her display spooling rapidly down. She waited with anticipation for the impact and was rewarded with a ‘tether attached’ announcement appearing in front of her.

“Check it out, Whammy,” she said, grinning broadly. “Latched on with the first try. Maybe I should try fishing.”

She didn’t need to see him to know his response. She let out a sigh. “You’re such a downer, you know that?”

With a twitch from her forelegs, she released the landing claw that was holding the Dream to the asteroid's surface. Then, lowering her wings very gently, she watched as her hooves lifted off the surface of the asteroid with a puff of disturbed dust.

“Okay,” she said. “Let's reel this big boy in.”

E.V.A. always gave Flurry a bit of a thrill and was entirely different from the experience of piloting the Dream. The physical sensation of hard vacuum directly against her skin was something few ponies lived to tell about. But for jobs like this one, it was often necessary to personally secure her prize.

She tread carefully across the surface of a container, the magnetic shoes attached to her hooves slowing her progress to a crawl.

Slow and steady, she thought to herself as she neared the divide between one stack of containers and another.

On the enchanted air bubble surrounding her head, her remaining time slowly ticked away. She had already used up fifteen minutes reeling the Dream in and searching for a place to clamp on. Any time wasted now would increase her chances of getting caught.

Teleporting was out of the question, as such a sudden burst of magic would be picked on the freighter's thaumatic sensors. This meant she had to do things the earth pony way for a bit. At least she wasn't stuck inside an awkward pressure suit. Such were the benefits of alicorn physiology.

Turning off her magnetic shoes, she kicked off from the surface of the container, floating gently over to the next row. After gliding silently past the gap, she opened her wings, firing off a careful burst of flight magic to slow herself. Clicking her magnetic shoes back on, she gracefully set down.

"Alright, let's see what's inside," she muttered to herself. With a thought, she activated the spell matrix ring, which rested on her horn, causing it to begin scanning the container. As she moved over the cargo container, a cross section of its contents was displayed just in front of her face.

Stacked neatly inside, in rows of crates, was every toy a militant despot could ask for: pulse cannons, armour frames, zebra liquid metal ammunition tanks. This one container had enough small arms and explosives to equip a platoon of soldiers with whatever high-tech weaponry they saw fit.

Flurry could imagine Amby drooling at the sight of all this. Weapons such as these would bring in a fortune on the Black Market. It wasn’t only the major factions gearing up for war; everypony and their mother was stockpiling, making it the perfect seller’s market.

Shaking her head, Flurry pressed on, finding more containers loaded up with armoured vehicles, CAPS, fuel cells, and explosives—lots of explosives. It was no wonder the Alliance was being careful; there was enough ordinance here to level a city.

Eventually, her spell matrix highlighted several crates that glowed red in her visual overlay, indicating she had finally found what she had come for.

"There we are," she said, tapping on her holo brace to send a few commands to the Dream.

A hundred canters or so away, the Dream's cargo ramp opened up in response, like a ugly chick awaiting its meal.

Slowly, she climbed down to the container doors and got to work on the lock. The Alliance had evidently improved their security systems since her last raid. A few more complex spells had been added on top of the usual stout earth pony locks. This ate up several of her valuable minutes while she dispelled the enchantments and cracked open the physical locks.

With a slow telekinetic pull, she tugged one of the container’s massive doors open and made her way inside. The interior was frigid and dark, frozen oxygen crystals dancing about as she entered, making it feel like some kind of alien tomb. Light from her horn revealed rows of pressurized crates neatly stacked on heavy-duty shelving.

She quickly undid the cargo straps on one of the stacks and levitated a crate down. It was painted a drab green, the layer of frost coating its surface making it sparkle slightly in the dim light. With a swipe from her hoof, she wiped the frost away, revealing a script of zebra glyphs.

Flurry grinned as her spell matrix confirmed her discovery. "Gotcha."

The small countdown timer on her display now read twenty-seven minutes remaining. She was pushing it close, but there was still enough time to grab her spoils and drift away undetected.

With a portion of the container’s crates carefully grasped in her telekinesis, she headed back outside, cargo in tow. She could have taken more, but she had learned only to take what could easily be hidden.

Wings outstretched, she drifted around the container until she was perched on its side, level with the Dream off in the distance. It would have taken too much time to walk back the way she came, but she had planned for this. She quickly tapped on her holo brace and a small reticle appeared as it worked out the angles.

Taking aim, she gently tossed the first crate towards the maw of the Dream, throwing the rest of the crates one at a time until she had a steady convoy drifting slowly along. After all the crates were on their way, she glanced back towards the container door, locking it in place. She then released the magnets on her hooves and gently pushed herself off the container.

As she drifted alongside her captured booty, she gently tugged on each crate, slowing them down as they were swallowed up one by one in the Dream's open jaws. The last thing she needed was a mess of split open containers having smashed against the cargo hold’s far wall.

With all the containers settled ahead of her, Flurry drifted beneath the Dream’s sleek nose and into its open belly. Once inside, she brought herself to a stop, voicing a command into the bubble of air around her head.

"Computer, close cargo ramp."

"Affirmative," the computer replied, the ramp closing slowly behind her.

Despite having no sense of up or down in zero gravity, Flurry was experienced enough to orient herself so that her hooves were brought near the metal cargo deck. Soon, both gravity and air would be restored. After the ramp had finished closing, there was a slow hiss as the bay began to repressurize. She felt the rush of warm air passing over her feathers, causing a shiver to run down her spine. The contrast from the hard vacuum was still incredible no matter how many times she had experienced it.

The cargo bay’s lighting strips flickered to life, bathing everything in harsh fluorescent light. Her stomach dropped as gravity returned to normal over several seconds. That was probably the only part she disliked. It was like that disappointing feeling after taking off a set of hoof skates. Along with the gravity’s return, the crates of her newly acquired stash suddenly took on their own weight, producing a light tug on her horn. Gently, she eased them down into a semi-neat pile in the centre of the bay.

Sixteen crates in total.

Not a bad haul if I do say so myself, she considered. Thirteen for her job, plus a little extra if more were required.

Of course, all these crates would need to have their markings removed as well as any tracking enchantments that might have been cast on them. All that would have to wait until after she was safely away from here.

The familiar tangy scent of rust and plastic greeted her as the breathing bubble dissipated with a satisfying pop. Sighing in relief, she removed her collar and kicked off her magnetic shoes. With a good shake, she tossed her head back, ruffling her mane to get it in some form of order after its time in vacuum. A nice hot shower would be perfect once this job was over.

She checked the timer once more. Twenty minutes left, more than enough time. All she needed to do was cut loose and she was free and clear.

When Flurry arrived back on the flight deck, she found Whammy just where she had left him, sitting comfortably on the flight couch.

"Any movement from our friends outside?" she asked, looking over to the plushy. "Good, the sooner we're gone the better."

As she lay down onto the flight couch, the computer suddenly announced, "Mirrorcom transmission detected."

Flurry frowned. "Is it going to the Alliance ships outside?"

"Negative, incoming transmission is encrypted using standard Commonwealth military protocols."

A Commonwealth warship? Out here? Equus hadn't bothered sticking its nose in colonial affairs since the war. Intelligence gathering, perhaps?

"Can we get a bead on the transmission origin?" she asked, feeling unease in her stomach. The transmission was weak so they must be close.

"Approximately ten light years away. Best estimation is the Huerth System," the computer replied, displaying the coordinates.

"Huerth?" she queried, tilting her head. Even stranger, there wasn’t even anything important out that way, as far as she knew, save for a few wrecks left behind from the war. Most of those had been picked clean years ago by scavengers. "Can we decode the transmission?"

"Encryption cypher or access key of General or higher required."

"What do you think, Whammy?" she pondered, her curiosity tugging at her. She wasn't even sure if her passkey still worked, it had been a long time since she'd needed it. Not to mention, she was technically a wanted felon.

Whammy's antennae bobbed in agreement as she levitated him up to her eye level. "Well, this is unusual. You don't usually take interest in other ponies’ business." A sly grin crept onto her muzzle as she decided to listen in. "Okay, begin decryption. Authorisation key: Thunderstreak."

"Standby."

While the computer processed the request, Flurry took the opportunity to link herself to the Dream’s neural interface and prepare the ship for departure.

"Access granted: Princess Flurry Heart. Decode commencing."

As she lay plugged into the flight couch, her vision once again taken over by the Dream’s various sensors, Flurry couldn't help but smile. In the sixteen years since she had left Equus, there was no chance the Princess Council would have missed cancelling her access codes. It meant one of them was watching out for her, and she had a good idea who it was.

"Thanks Luna," she whispered.

"Decode complete."

There was a shriek of white noise that assaulted her ears, a small vid window filled with static appearing in front of her.

"Apply filters. Let's see if we can clean this up," she said while readying the Dream to detach from the freighter.

"Compensating for interference."

Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed in her ears.

"This is the ECS Orion… requesting assistance… immediate… please respond."

Flurry's eyes widened, a tiny gasp escaping her muzzle. That was her cousin Nyx! Even through the static, she recognised Nyx's voice anywhere.

Suddenly, everything else fell by the wayside, and questions clamoured inside her head. What was Nyx doing on an Equus military ship, all the way out here? Was it a covert mission? Anything requiring Nyx to be a part of must be pretty serious.

Flurry's blood froze at a much darker thought: what if Nyx was coming after her? Did Nyx know she was out here? Was this just bait to lure her out?

The urge rose within her to simply cut off communication—to walk away and never look back. Yet Nyx was family, and she was in trouble. Even from this brief communication, her cousin's voice sounded strained and anxious. Nyx was the toughest pony Flurry knew; for her to call for help, it must be deadly serious.

Without hesitation, Flurry made her decision. Regardless of the consequences, she would never abandon her family when they needed her.

Swallowing to ease her drying throat, she hesitantly connected to the transmission. “Nyx, this is Flurry Heart. Are you receiving me?”

Flurry perked her ears, hearing only scant chatter between the Alliance ships. They were still none the wiser of her presence.

There was a long pause before the reply. “Flurry? Is that really… ” There was obvious surprise in her cousin's voice and what sounded like relief. The transmission faded away quickly and was replaced with static.

“Nyx?” she called, feeling anxiety grip her as the ship’s computer attempted to compensate for any interference that might be fogging the transmission.

There was a burst of unintelligible sound just before Nyx’s voice returned, much clearer this time. “…I’ve hooked myself up to power the signal directly. Can you hear me now?”

“Yes! I'll try and boost my receiver," Flurry said eagerly, making the necessary adjustments.

Gradually, the static began to clear, and the image of her cousin appeared.

The jet-black alicorn looked like she’d just come out of a bar fight with a pair of minotaurs and then been struck by lightning on the way home. Her deep purple mane was dishevelled, frazzled, and actually smouldering in places. Her whole body was covered in a sheen of sweat, and each breath came as a heaved gasp. In those turquoise eyes, Flurry could see the fight to simply stay standing, her muscles taut and twitching.

Flurry felt her heart begin to pound in her chest as she stared at Nyx’s image on her display. What could have done this to her?

A thick haze of smoke swirled around the alicorn, and her horn was wrapped in a flickering indigo light. Four golden spell matrix rings adorned it, each festooned with cables that ran down to the floor and out of sight. These magical interfaces occasionally arced with pulses of energy that made Flurry wince just looking at them.

"Nyx, are you alright? What happened?" she asked, anxiety slipping into her voice.

"I'm fine, but my ship is dead in the water. Main power is out and we're running off emergency reserves," Nyx replied, wincing as another jolt ran up her horn. "It's taking all I have just to get this message out."

"How long do you have?"

"Ten hours, at best. But that's the least of our problems." Nyx grimaced, turning to somepony off-screen. "Flurry, I need you to relay our distress call to Harmony Station. Tell them we are disabled and in need of urgent military assistance. I'm sending you all the information you need."

Military assistance? Then that would mean…

"Are you under attack?" Flurry asked, her wings bristling.

"Not at the moment. We managed to destroy a houndrathi pirate vessel, but we detected another contact," Nyx explained as the data packet was being transmitted. "They haven't answered any of our hails, and there’s no I.F.F. either, so we’re assuming it’s hostile. It's only a matter of time before they realise we're disabled."

"Nevermind Harmony—I'll come to you. We can face them together," Flurry volunteered, her expression souring. "You don't need those Initiative clowns. The Dream can take on your crew if necessary."

Nyx let out a weary sigh. "The Orion has seven hundred crew aboard. There’s no way you can fit everyone aboard the Dream."

Seven hundred! The Dream could fit fifty ponies at most, and that was cramming them into every available space. Even going as fast as she could, doing round trips, she could only save a hundred or so before the rest ran out of air. Even this didn't take into account the hostile ship, whoever they were.

"Flurry, I don't think I can keep this up for much longer," Nyx said through clenched teeth, beads of sweat running from her brow.

"Just hold on," Flurry urged, her thoughts racing as she tried desperately to find something, anything, that would extend her connection to Nyx. Running fast out of options, the desperate realization began to dawn on her that there was nothing she could do to maintain the link. "There's still so much I need to say to you."

"Warning, internal temperature reaching critical levels," the Dream's computer announced. "Stealth systems compromised. Ejecting heat sinks."

The Dream shuddered as the white-hot heat sinks were jettisoned from her wings, drifting away in a pyrotechnic display. Warnings flashed before Flurry’s eyes, but she tried to ignore them. “No no, not now.”

"Alert, hostile scans detected," the Dream's computer warned.

"What's going on there?" Nyx asked, her weary expression hardening.

"It's nothing," Flurry assured with a smile, trying to give a semblance of calm for her cousin.

Suddenly a bright light bathed the Dream, making Flurry gasp.

"Attention, pirate vessel: surrender your ship and prepare to be boarded," a stern stallion's voice boomed over a comm channel.

"Oh…"

She knew there was something she had forgotten.

Chapter 2 - Communications Breakdown

"Flurry," Nyx asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Who is that?"

"Nopony important," Flurry replied, gazing up at the Tumbleweed corvette hovering menacingly a few canters off the Dream's bow. Glancing backward, she saw its partner had taken up position at her stern.

"Still up to your old tricks I see," Nyx sighed, her eyes narrowing.

"Nyx, I…" Flurry began but wilted under cousin's stern glare.

"It doesn't matter," Nyx replied, letting out a measured breath. "All that matters is that you get our message to Harmony. Please, Flurry, there are lives at stake here."

"I won't let you down, Nyx," she replied firmly. "Even if I have to go to Harmony myself and drag them to you."

"That's not such a good idea—"

A sudden shudder had Flurry wincing as one of the corvettes scraped its nose across the Dream's bow. It wasn't hard enough to do any damage, merely scratching the paintwork, but it did send their intentions loud and clear.

"I gotta go, the locals are getting antsy," Flurry said, looking Nyx in the eye. "I'll come and get you, Nyx. You have my word. I’ll head to Harmony as soon as I finish up here."

"Flurry wait! You need to—" Nyx cried but was cut off as Flurry cut the channel.

Flurry glared at the offending Tumbleweed while steadying her breathing to try and calm her nerves. It sat there, only a few canters off her bow, close enough that she could see its turrets choosing the most effective spots on her ship to fire upon.

With a flex of her wings, Flurry sent a silent order to the Dream. Her ship's engines let out a reverberating hum as its Nexus core began to power up.

"Core output at seventy percent and rising," the computer reported, a stream of information pouring at Flurry as the Dream came to life.

Flurry kicked off from the container which the Dream was clamped onto, causing her bow to glance off the corvette's nose and knocking it upwards to tilt almost straight up. As the Tumbleweed struggled to reorientate itself, Flurry spotted the opening she was looking for. With a downward thrust of her wings, she brought her engines to full power and headed towards the gap.

As she did so, the Dream suddenly jerked, a shudder passing through the ship. The Dream issued a low metallic groan, flailing against an unseen bond like a fish on a hook.

A red warning icon, showing the still-attached tether, began flashing before her eyes. Looking downwards, she zoomed in to see that the harpoon was still firmly lodged inside the container.

"Tether malfunction, recall failed," the computer announced.

"Now isn't the time for 'I told you so', Whammy," she growled, delicately increasing the thrust pushing down on the container.

The tether twisted, tearing at the skin of the container but stubbornly remained stuck inside. The screech of metal became louder, as did the vibration shaking the Dream.

"Damn thing."

"Pirate vessel, power down immediately or we will open fire," the corvette commander demanded. "This is your final warning."

"Okay, if that's how you want to play it," Flurry snorted, flexing her forelegs and bringing up a targeting reticle in her vision.

“Five percent should do it,” she muttered to herself, licking her lips as the Dream's weapons powered up.

Flurry took careful aim at the tether link before gently squeezing the triggers. From beneath the Dream's nose, white hot bolts of energy streaked out in rapid succession, striking the area around the tether.

The tether link disintegrated in a plume of molten metal and the bolts continued on, cutting through the container like it was made of tissue paper. Flurry felt her stomach lurch as the Dream surged upwards, now free of its bindings. Considering how badly she had shot up the container, it was a miracle it hadn’t exploded. Whoops.

"Energy spike detected," the computer cheerfully noted as the Tumbleweed in front of Flurry lit up in an angry red highlight.

Flurry hastily cast her shield spell, enveloping the Dream in a shimmering golden bubble.

I just need to hold on long enough to break out, she hoped as the Tumbleweed's guns opened fire.

The golden shield surrounding the Dream flared brightly under the hail of fire, its surface rippling like water in a downpour. The Tumbleweed’s companion added its firepower to the punishing barrage, eager to join in on the kill.

Flurry grimaced as a percentage meter appeared in her vision, showing her energy reserves steadily being chipped away at by the assault. Her shields would hold for now, but she wasn’t going to sit idly by while they slowly pummelled her into submission. She surveyed the situation, searching for an opening, or somewhere she could force an exit, but they were hedging her in on all sides.

Suddenly, there was a bright flash, a shockwave buffeting all three ships as the damaged container exploded. A jet of bright blue plasma erupted from the container, peeling the metal skin open like a banana. Shrapnel splayed out in all directions, peppering the Tumbleweed ahead of Flurry as well as the surrounding containers.

The beleaguered corvette tried to veer off just as the neighboring container exploded as well, causing several others to come loose from their moorings. Dozens of crates of valuable cargo spilled from the shredded pod, spinning off wildly in all directions and colliding with everything in their path.

Flurry could only watch in horror as a chain reaction of destruction rippled along the Centipede's length. More containers broke loose, while others spilled their contents into the void.

"Oh, damn," Flurry gawped awkwardly. "Well, gotta go!"

Bringing her wings down, the Dream raced forward as her engines roared to life. She danced through the mess she had caused, heading towards the freighter’s stern.

Flurry felt like a filly again, running from her teachers after she accidently knocked the head off Aunty Twilight's statue at school. She couldn’t help but let out a giggle as she deftly wove between the spinning containers, narrowly avoiding an armored battle tank that had broken loose from its container.

Looking back, Flurry saw a Tumbleweed attempting to give chase, its wounded compatriot retreating. Rather than trying to avoid the debris, the corvette charged forward like a raging minotaur, bulldozing straight through the detritus.

The Alliance frigates were holding fire for now. Flurry guessed it was to avoid adding to the chaos she had wrought.

As Flurry turned her gaze, she gasped as the hulking form of a frigate slid out from behind the Centipede's stern. Its two Tumbleweeds were already detached, speeding toward her like a pair of attack dogs being let off their leash.

"Not that way," Flurry cried, flaring her wings and grimacing at the sudden stress of g-forces assaulting her body. Fighting against the pull of momentum, she beat her wings, flipping the ship 180 degrees and bringing her ship's engines to full power.

Flurry's eyes widened as she looked ahead, seeing the other Tumbleweed still ploughing towards her through the debris in its eagerness to get to her, guns blazing as they tried to get a bead on her.

“Chicken is it? I’m game if you are!” Flurry grinned, aiming the Dream towards the charging earth pony ship.

They sped towards each other like jousting knights, both exchanging fire as they recklessly barrelled forward. A few lucky blasts glanced off the Dream’s shield while Flurry’s shots gouged molten streaks in the Tumbleweed’s armoured hull.

With proximity warnings blaring in her ears, Flurry slammed power into the vertical thrusters and rolled the Dream onto its back, letting the Tumbleweed pass above her. As the Tumbleweed raced by, she spun her ship to bring her guns to bear on the passing earth pony ship, firing into its exposed engines. The engine nacelles exploded in a bright flash, reducing the whole engine assembly to molten slag.

The wounded corvette continued onwards, desperately trying to regain control as it was carried away by its momentum.

"Missile launch detected," the computer announced, warning indicators appearing in Flurry's peripheral vision. Evidently, her pursuers weren’t giving up that easily.

Diving back into the sprawling debris field she had created, Flurry ducked and weaved to give the missile a hard time tracking her. Within seconds, she was rewarded with an explosion flaring behind her.

Even at this distance, the explosion was big enough to take a chunk out of her shield strength, throwing twisted debris out in every direction.

Flurry leveled out and sped towards the freighter’s bow at full speed. She wasn't going to be able to shield herself amongst the scattered cargo forever, and it was only a matter of time before those Tumbleweeds pinned her in. She was going to have to break cover soon.

Ahead, two of the frigates had turned, showing her their broadsides. So many targeting alerts appeared that she just turned them off. The earth pony warships were holding fire for the moment, obviously waiting for her to clear the container ship.

"This is Captain Inkwell of the Alliance warship Cloverleaf. You are surrounded. You have no chance of escape. Surrender or be destroyed!" an eager stallion's voice warned over the comm channels.

Flurry could just imagine the officer rubbing his hooves together in glee at the thought of catching her, his imagination full of dreams of promotions and accolades.

As Flurry charged forward, she cleared the bow of the Centipede and shot out into open space. The moment she cleared the freighter's vicinity, she was rocked by explosions as the waiting warships opened fire. Both of the massive ships were firing, their flanks almost a solid line of muzzle flashes, and flak bursts filled her vision as shells went off all around her.

Flurry ducked and weaved through the torrent, the Dream giving constant predictions of the incoming ordinance. Even the military hardware installed in her ship was struggling with the sheer volume of it, the red trails of the computer's predictions becoming a mad tangle before her eyes.

The Dream shuddered from a flak burst which detonated a little too close for comfort, penetrating her shield and peppering the ship with shrapnel. Pain lanced up Flurry's left wing as the ship's interface registered minor damage from the hits.

The two frigates had now formed a wedge, with their corvettes covering the top and bottom. Everything seemed to be firing at her, bolts shrieking past her face as she plunged deeper into the thick of it.

Then, the gunfire seemed to slacken. Flurry braced herself as she saw a dozen bright balls of light streak out from each frigate, grey smoke trailing behind each one as they approached.

"A little overkill, wouldn't you say?" She winced as the swarm of deadly projectiles sped towards her.

Flurry clenched her teeth and targeted the lead missile, firing a burst from the Dream's guns as it came into range. She was rewarded by bright flashes as a chain reaction ripped through the first volley of missiles, but it was not enough to stop more than a few.

Folding her wings, Flurry brought the Dream into a steep dive before suddenly climbing as the missiles dove to track her. The unexpected manoeuvre caused the remaining missiles to overshoot, streaking past her and arching away.

The lumbering form of a frigate filled Flurry's vision like a great fire-spewing mountain. Her path forward was blocked and the barrage resumed with renewed vigor. Flak bursts went off all around her, the constant explosions threatening to overwhelm her shields.

A glance at her energy reserves caused Flurry to gasp as the percentage dropped dramatically after a near-miss. Much more of this and she’d be screwed once she bottomed out.

A substantial energy charge channeled through her horn as Flurry readied herself for her final gambit. She raced towards one of the frigates, getting so close that it forced the other to cease firing in order to avoid hitting it. Banking away only a few canters from its surface, Flurry could nearly see the weld lines on the individual hull plates.

Hoping she had guessed the right vector, she closed her eyes and cast the spell. The ship’s Nexus core surged as it amplified the raw thaumatic energy she provided, generating a massive version of Flurry’s personal teleportation spell. A blinding light shone for an instant, enveloping the Dream as it blinked out of existence.

She reappeared again, now greeted with open space. In the distance, she could see the ring of the mirrorgate and sped towards it at top speed.

Flurry looked back to the Alliance frigates, now milling around the stricken freighter like anxious parents. Her sudden teleport had caught them off-guard, but they were swiftly coming out of their stupor. Already, the Tumbleweeds were beginning to head in her direction, their angry radar pings like the siren of an approaching police car.

At this rate, they were going to catch up with her before she could reach the gate, and she really didn’t fancy a rematch, especially with her energy reserves as they were. That meant there was only one good option left to play.

"Computer, activate jump drive. Let's get out of here," Flurry said, letting out a weary sigh as her body drew on the last dregs of adrenaline still coursing through her system.

"Affirmative, spooling jump drive," the computer responded, a low rumble reverberating through the ship. Flurry winced from the sudden draw on her dwindling reserves as her ship began its charging sequence.

In Flurry's mind, she prepared the spell that would breach the barrier between realspace and the dimension of mirrorspace. As the spell began to manifest in her mind, the hum grew louder, eventually reaching a fever pitch.

"Jump drive fully charged. Ready to engage," the Dream's computer announced.

With a slow release of breath, Flurry cast the spell.

The thaumatic charge from the jump drive rushed outwards, focused on a point in space a dozen ship-lengths in front of the Dream. A brief flash of light was immediately followed by an expanding hole in reality. The portal stabilised, revealing a vortex of undulating energy that tore a tunnel into the swirling mayhem of mirrorspace.

With slow, practiced movements, Flurry eased the Dream forward, towards the vortex. As she entered it, she felt the subtle pull against her body—it was like she was standing against the current of a river. Following the current, the Dream began to speed up as it crossed the threshold between dimensions. Normal space vanished and was replaced by an oily maelstrom of colours, coursing and swirling to their own chaotic beat.

Once she had passed through, the tear in the fabric of reality sealed itself behind her, taking the threat of pursuit with it. Slumping deeper into the flight couch, Flurry allowed herself to relax, the tension in her body finally easing. Only a fool would try to attack in mirrorspace—one slip up and you'd be lost forever.

A small smile crept onto her face as she imagined what was going on aboard the Cloverleaf's bridge right about now.

Better luck next time, she thought, letting out a relieved chuckle and basking in the afterglow of a successful escape.

Now that the danger was behind her, Flurry checked the Dream for damage. She could still feel a tingling pain in her wings through the link, as if somepony had plucked out one of her feathers. As information flowed in from the Dream's sensors, it revealed only superficial damage to the outer hull. Ambrosia would chew her out when she got back, but the changeling always did tend to do that whenever a job got fun.

Flurry's thoughts turned back to her cousin and the trouble she had found herself in. After checking the comms frequencies once more, it was clear that Nyx's transmission was gone. She felt a sliver of guilt settle in the pit of her stomach. What was it Nyx had been trying to say at the end there? What if that was the last time they ever spoke?

Flurry shook her head. There was no time to be worrying about the what-ifs. She had to move forward. Nyx had ten hours left before her ship lost life support, with maybe an hour extra before it became an icy tomb.

She considered her options. Broken Bow was close by at only an hour's flight time away.

"What do you think, Whammy? Are there enough ponies at Broken Bow who’d be willing to help us?" she pondered aloud while keeping the Dream steady in the maelstrom. "I've got a few favours I could call in. Shot Glass? Maybe even Pot Luck? They both have ships big enough to take on her crew."

Flurry grimaced as she thought about it further. "No. I doubt Nyx would be willing to part with her ship in exchange for the rescue."

Then there was always… Flurry blanched, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came. "Briar Rose is out too." That mare would likely ransom the crew back to the Commonwealth—if she gave them back at all.

That being said, Nyx could probably cut through Briar's gang like a hot knife through butter. ‘Use those who try and use you’ was a common saying in Dragon’s Head. The notion did carry a certain appeal, getting Briar out of her mane once and for all.

Flurry scratched the idea. Now wasn't the time to be thinking selfishly when ponies’ lives were at risk. In fact, all options at Broken Bow were unlikely to pan out. Money was the only thing that could buy loyalty out here, and she was sorely lacking in that department.

As much as she hated to admit it, those Harmony ponies were probably Nyx's best option right now. Still, Flurry wasn't about to blindly trust them to get the job done—not with Nyx and her crew's lives on the line.

"What do you say we pay Harmony a visit and get this rescue moving?" Flurry asked, feeling Whammy against her chest.

"My my, agreeing with me twice in one day?" she remarked. "What is this universe coming to?"

Chapter 3 - Masquerade of Manners

Flurry closed her eyes, letting the rhythmic pulses of the hot shower wash across her body. She took in a breath, the thick steam carrying the scent of apricots from her shampoo. The weariness and strain of a frantic escape was being gently massaged out of her muscles, the warmth seeping into her bones like the welcome embrace of a lover on a cold winter's day.

This was her usual routine after a successful heist. But it was different this time. She would normally be wallowing in a pool of satisfaction right now, but instead, all she felt was anxiety clawing at her chest.

It had been two hours since Nyx had contacted her.

Two hours of silence.

Flurry had hoped Nyx would send another message out, but not so much as a distress beacon had shown up on any frequency. It was bad enough that she only had another eight hours before Nyx’s CAPS storage was drained, but what worried Flurry the most was that unknown vessel that was shadowing her cousin's ship.

Flurry’s only consolation was the fact that Nyx was the most capable pony she had ever known. A cunning starship captain and a formidable warrior, there was no pony better suited to defending the Orion. Of all the times they had sparred together, Flurry had only ever managed to last a few minutes against her cousin before tapping out. Any pirate attempting to board Nyx’s ship would be in for a nasty surprise from the former incarnation of Nightmare Moon.

Then again, they wouldn’t have to attack her head on. All they needed to do was wait and let time do its work. Wait for the oxygen to run out. Wait for Nyx to…

Flurry opened her eyes with a snort, shaking the water from her mane and forcing the unpleasant thoughts out of her mind before they could gain any more traction. She mentally chided herself for letting her anxiety take root.

In fact, if it wasn’t for Whammy keeping her grounded in reality, she might have lost all her focus and done something stupid. After receiving Nyx’s message, Flurry had nearly burned out her engines trying to get to Harmony as fast as she could. It had taken Whammy’s typically stern pragmatism to make her relent. A burned out drive core was not going to help Nyx’s situation at all, so now they were plodding along at a pedestrian pace—at least that’s what it felt like.

Flurry had also spent her time poring over the data Nyx had provided, trying to figure out who it was that was shadowing her. All she had was a fuzzy radar silhouette and scattered energy readings to go off, but it was a start. Naturally, since interpreting techie stuff wasn’t her forte, she had wasted no time calling Ambrosia up to set her on the case. If this was any ship known to Broken Bow, she could count on the changeling to find it.

This had left Flurry with nothing to do but wait. Whammy’s opinion was that she should be busying herself with minor repairs. She suspected this was mostly to distract her from worrying about Nyx and what was to come.

With a sigh, she turned the water off and let the shower’s auto-dry function do its work. Hot air blustered from the grating beneath her hooves, banishing the clouds of steam and billowing her short mane about. With her wings spread slightly at her sides, the airflow rustled her feathers, but even this simple pleasure felt numb in her current frame of mind.

Once she was dry, she trotted out of the shower, feeling a little more refreshed. Plucking a battered comb from her sink, she set to work trying to tame the monster that was her mane. Even cut short, her mane resisted any attempt to conform to style, a few locks of hair refusing to fall into line with the rest. Eventually, she conceded defeat, tossing the comb back into the sink.

Trotting out into her bedroom, she was confronted by the scrutinizing gaze of Whammy. He was perched on her oversized bed, nestled in disheveled silk sheets like a ship in a storm.

“There, all clean and presentable,” she announced, giving Whammy a twirl so he could inspect her efforts. “Wouldn’t want those Harmony snobs looking down on us now, would we?”

She had a feeling Whammy would have rolled his eyes if he could.

“You saw how they reacted when we sent off Nyx's distress call," she huffed. "I wouldn't be surprised if they try and shoot us down the moment we jump in."

Flurry stomped her hoof at the mere thought of that snobbish unicorn mare who had answered her call. All tarted up in that fancy uniform, that self-righteous sneer plastered on her face.

Whammy eyed her impassively as his antennae shook from her stomp.

She shook her head at his implied question. "No, holding onto Nyx's data is the only way I can guarantee they'll let me land. We're not exactly the most popular ponies at the moment, are we?"

One antenna drooped, questioningly.

“They confirmed Nyx’s signal was legit, didn’t they?” she said, weaving through the debris field that was her bedroom floor to get to her bed. “If the situation is as bad as I think it is, they're going to need every bit of help they can get."

Whammy chose to remain silent on that little point.

Ever since the Harmony Initiative had been announced, they had been nothing but trouble. Ostensibly, they were meant to help in the reconstruction of the worlds cut off in the Dragon’s Head nebula. Grand promises and dreams for the future were thrown out like candy on Nightmare Night. Then, the governments started to interfere. Supplies never arrived where they were promised. Construction projects never got off the ground. The same sad story was repeated across a dozen worlds. The only thing that changed was that a few planetary governors ended up with a new luxury shuttle or any number of flamboyant perks.

Then there was Harmony station.

The only thing Flurry knew was that it had drawn in every honest worker from Apas to Cuvuria to work on it. Though, in the four years since it had been publicly announced, she had seen nothing tangible out of them. The site had been sealed off to the general public ever since some civic-minded zebra had tried to blow up the place. Even the press had been kept out of the area, with only a few scattered stories lurking on the networks.

“Seriously, Whammy, I can’t believe Nyx expects these Harmony clowns to step up,” she complained, fluffing her wings and looking away from his jiggling eye. “Yes, I’m aware that Nyx trusts them, but that doesn’t mean I do.”

Her ears flicked, and she could almost hear his heavy sigh. She blinked in surprise, “Have faith? That’s the best you’ve got? Faith has kinda dried up around these parts, Whammy.”

She scooped him up with her telekinesis and hovered him at her eye level. His head flopped slightly to the side as he floated in her grasp, causing her to let out a sigh. “Fine, I promise I won't go in and tear up the place.” She then pointed a hoof at him. “But if I ain’t satisfied that they’re up for this, then the deal’s off and we do it ourselves. Agreed?”

The plushie floated over and bumped her hoof in acknowledgement. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna provoke anything. This is too important to be messing around.”

Her gaze drifted to the long nightstand that dominated one side of the room. It was adorned with picture frames, the photos spreading onto the silver walls like a living creature forged of holofilm.

Memories were hazy, intangible things without an anchor to hold onto, especially for an alicorn. Every alicorn had their own trick to keep hold of their treasured memories. Celestia had the Palace in Canterlot, with its paintings and statues, giving her a tangible link to her ancient past. Nyx preferred something simpler, a box of keepsakes, tiny reminders of precious moments in her life. But for Flurry, it was photos, along with her music and movies, that were her link to the past. Her ship was dotted with such places—little shrines of memory.

Her ears fell as she spotted an old picture of Nyx sitting with her when Flurry was just a filly. It was easily visible because it was standing tall amongst a group that had been lain face down. They were sitting together, Flurry in the forefront with a beaming smile on her face. Nyx was behind her, a weary smile on her face from what had been a frantic day trying to keep Flurry out of trouble,

The two hadn’t been that close in a long time, the past six years putting a real strain on their relationship. Flurry’s recent career choices never sat well with her more upstanding cousin, and they had barely spoken at all in that time, usually ending in heated words. The idea of meeting with Nyx again both elated and terrified her in equal measure.

Whammy simply bobbed in her wavering levitation field.

She managed a wry smile. “Saving her life is a good way of getting back in her good graces, isn’t it?” She drew him into a hug. “Maybe once this is over, we can talk a little. Provided I’m not arrested or anything… That’d be super awkward.”

Her words sounded hollow in her ears, and she pressed Whammy a little tighter.

A soft chime came before the computer announced, "Incoming transmission. Caller ID: Ambrosia."

"Put her through," Flurry said, her ears perking.

A small holo window appeared in her bedroom with the familiar face of Ambrosia.

"Hey, Flurry," Ambrosia greeted. "I did some digging on your little ghost. From what I can tell, it looks to be Alliance. Elderberry class, I think." Her face scrunched up as she examined her results. "Heavily modified from the looks of it."

Flurry frowned. "That thing must be fifty years old! What would it be doing out there?"

"Nopony we know has a ship that big," Ambrosia said gravely. "This is something new."

"Syndicate?"

"Probably. They're the only ones I know of with the pull to grab a ship like that," Ambrosia replied. "Explains what I heard through the grapevine. Somepony hired Rancoth and his crew a few days ago for a big job."

That explains the Houndrathi, Flurry pondered, rubbing her chin.

"Any leads on who?" she asked. Even a name would give her something to work with, so she’d know what to expect, or who to hunt down once this was all over.

"No, whoever was hiring used the local brokers to hide their identity," Ambrosia said, wilting slightly. "Sorry I couldn't get more."

"It's fine. Thanks, Amby, I owe you one," she said with a smile.

Ambrosia's wings buzzed slightly. "So you're going to Harmony station?"

"If it is the Syndicate, the rescue will need all the help they can get," she replied firmly.

"What if they arrest you?"

"They can try," she declared, fluffing her wings with a smirk across her muzzle. "I've at least got something they need."

"It's a big risk, Flurry."

"She's my family, Amby," she replied firmly. "I don't care what it takes, I have to try. Besides, what's a few hundred years in jail to me, right?"

Ambrosia went quiet, a sad smile on her face. "You be careful, okay? You owe me big, and I intend to collect."

"Just be sure to visit me in prison, 'kay?" she said with a wink.

"I might even bake you a cake," Ambrosia offered coyly, her wings buzzing.

"Now you're just taunting me." Flurry fluttered her eyelashes, earning a raspberry from the changeling.

"Attention: Avalon beacon reached. Navigator to the flight deck," the computer announced.

"That's my stop," she sighed. "Thanks again, Amby."

"Be sure to squeeze those Initiative foals for expenses!" Ambrosia said with a toothy smile before hanging up.

Looking down to Whammy, she steeled herself. "Okay, Whammy, let's get this show on the road."

Flurry gazed out at the expanse of mirrorspace through the Dream’s sensors. Indistinct clouds of energy swirled and churned all around her, motes of oily colour washing against the Dream’s hull as it ploughed into the eddies that surrounded the Avalon star system. She felt a glimmer of joy as the Dream rode the system’s gravity currents, the waves of energy dancing off her hull. In the distance, dark clouds of energy flashed and boiled with crackling bursts of light.

The Avalon beacon blinked invitingly, indicating the position of the Harmony station Arrivals gate, which orbited the planet Avalon 4. Flurry directed her ship to approach, anxious to finally get Nyx’s rescue underway.

A few hundred canters away, a jump vortex opened up, followed by an Alliance personnel shuttle jetting through, into mirrorspace. The ship paused, seemingly regarding the Dream before heading on its way. Flurry pondered what they must have thought, finding the dreaded pirate ship Fleeting Dream there waiting for them.

A small assortment of freighters and transports sat at the Arrivals beacon, patiently waiting for their negotiations with the Navigator’s Guild to finish before they could proceed. One of them backed away as she drew near, making her feel like a wolf amongst sheep. No doubt a few panicked calls were passing between them as she came to a stop alongside.

The irony was that she wasn’t the biggest criminal here.

An incoming call demanded her attention with the logo of a white unicorn head inside a golden circle appearing before her. After a moment of hesitation, she pressed her hoof against it.

An automated message in an irritatingly chipper mare's voice chimed in. “Greetings and welcome to the Avalon System Mirrorgate. The next arrivals activation will occur in eight minutes. If you have already registered your flight plan, please wait in the designated holding pattern.

"For unregistered vessels in your weight class, the fee is two hundred bits or trade goods of equal value. Please consult your Guild navigator or representative now. On behalf of the Guild, we thank you for your continued pa—"

Flurry cut it off.

Two hundred bits for a little ship like hers to jump back into realspace—even more for the bigger freighters. Thousands of bits changing hooves for something that cost a fraction of the value. Failing to pay your bill meant eventually being blacklisted from every port, and then being chased by the Guild’s bloodhounds the rest of your life. All of this done with a happy smile on their faces… and people called her a thief.

A wicked grin formed on Flurry's face. “What do you say we wrinkle a few Guild feathers, eh Whammy?”

Flurry took his lack of response as tacit support and turned her radio to the gate’s traffic control frequency. "Gate control, this is Foxtrot Uniform Zero One on approach. Clear sector twenty-seven by fifteen for an incoming jump point, I'm on approach in sixty seconds. Out."

She then hit her lateral thrusters just a bit to glide into position above the ships waiting for the mirrorgate. As she did so, she readied the Dream for her exit out of mirrorspace.

'Foxtrot Uniform Zero One," a stallion's voice replied, with the curt politeness one would expect from the Guild. "Your arrival is unscheduled, please…"

As his voice trailed off, Flurry eagerly anticipated the satisfaction of his next words.

"F-foxtrot Uniform Zero One, this is restricted space," the stallion stammered, quickly recovering. "Do not attempt to enter, I repeat, do not—"

Flurry hit her comms again. "To any ships in the vicinity of sector twenty-seven by fifteen: Jump point opening in thirty seconds, so you'd better move your asses."

"Jump drive fully charged," the Dream's computer announced. "Ready to engage."

With the gate controller still yelling warnings in her ear, Flurry triggered her jump drive, causing a flash of light to expand into the swirling colors ahead of her, adjacent to the queue of ships waiting for their turn at the mirrorgate. This vortex was bigger than the one she had used to escape the Alliance ships earlier—big enough to accommodate certain nearby cargo ships. Within seconds, she could see the familiar blackness of realspace expanding out of its center, complete with an assorted starfield and the crescent of a planet obscured by thick rusty red clouds, its edge just barely visible off to the right.

Casting a glance to the queue beside her, she opened a public channel. "To all ships waiting on Guild negotiations, feel free to make use of the aperture while it’s still open."

With her heart warmed at the thought of every Guild official in the vicinity collectively having a seizure, Flurry eased the Dream towards the rift. Letting the pull of the vortex take her, she guided her ship through and was quickly out into open space.

Looking back, she felt a tickle of amusement as an earth pony bulk carrier and a small Republic freighter snuck through the still open rift.

“Looks like somepony couldn’t resist a freebie, eh Whammy?” she observed, slowing to let the two ships pass her by. They then joined the myriad of ships that were waiting for their turn to be processed and assigned a docking route.

Nearby was the small gate control platform, a squat octahedron of polished silver with golden pylons on each corner braced with gilded struts. A cupola poked out from the platform's top, lined with windows to give the operators an unobstructed view of incoming and outgoing traffic passing through the paired gates.

Flurry wished she could have been up there to watch as the Guild officers scurried around like headless chickens in the chaos of her arrival. The thought made the journey worth it all by itself.

Cautiously, she broke out from the crowd surrounding the gate—no doubt to the relief of everypony there. She still hadn't been confronted by any police craft; busy gates like this should be swarming with patrol ships, and to not encounter any put her nerves on edge. Still, she pressed onwards.

Ahead of her was the planet Avalon 4, currently showing its night side to her. A dapple of faint lights twinkled across the gas giant's surface like glitter on a black velvet cloak. Each was a narconium mining platform sitting in the eye of its own artificial hurricane, sweeping up the valuable mineral from deep within the planet's cloud layers.

Flurry's gaze quickly focused on the cluster of bright lights moving along the planet’s equator. They were making their way toward the planet’s terminator, into daylight.

“So that's Harmony station?” Flurry commented. “You getting a good look, Whammy?”

From his perch at the front of the flight couch, Whammy had a front-row seat to take in the spectacle. She didn't want him to miss their approach.

Several minutes passed before the station’s orbit suddenly thrust it into the sunlight. A small gasp escaped Flurry's muzzle at the sheer scale of the sight before her. Her initial guesses proved to be way off; the station wasn't just big, it was enormous. Even the grand stations of Caelum or Thera were dwarfed by this gargantuan piece of engineering.

It reminded Flurry of those snow globe souvenirs she had bought during her childhood back on Equus. An entire city encased in a transparent sphere of reinforced omniglass, embedded into a sloping disc-like superstructure, like a jewel in a pendent.

It was certainly an odd design, the Republic and Alliance architecture styles both competing with each other within the same structure. The pegasi's insistence on wide viewports, sweeping arches, and open spaces clashed with the earth pony utilitarian ethos of platforms and extensions. Clusters of pylons and antennas seemed to sprout from everywhere on the disc's surface like copses of trees on a grassy plain.

Dominating one side of the station were two colossal docking pylons that were pock-marked with smaller gateways big enough to swallow the Dream whole. A framework covered in derricks and cranes connected the two pylons together.

Flurry gave an awed whistle, “That thing's a dock? You could fit a Republic super carrier in there with room to spare. These Harmony ponies must be expecting a lot of traffic to pass through here."

The initial wonder soon wore off, leaving only a bitter taste in her mouth. It disgusted her to think of all the riches that had been poured into constructing this place. All that money could have been spent helping Dragon's Head rather than building an enormous white elephant. She was sure the vultures of the Alliance and the Republic were already circling this place, just waiting for it to fall on its face so they could move in and take it for themselves.

Speaking of which…

Her blood froze as she spotted an Alliance cruiser surrounded by a flotilla of frigates. The cruiser was easily four times the size of its brethren. The bulging hammerhead bow held a cluster of gun ports, concealing the huge barrels of its railguns. The word Hyperion was stenciled onto the bow, a set of lights illuminating the name for those who faced down the barrels of its guns. Behind the bow, the hull was thinner and more conservatively armed than its smaller siblings. It had been daubed in an olive green with a positively garish white stripe down its flank. The frigates surrounding the massive ship huddled together like a group of foals would to their parent, sheltering under the protection of its huge guns.

“Why am I not surprised to see those idiots here,” Flurry muttered, swallowing to wet her rapidly drying throat.

The Alliance ships seemed to be in the middle of some kind of cargo transfer. Several tugs were working with EVA teams, moving large containers out of the cruiser’s ventral cargo hatch. Thankfully, the warships all seemed blissfully ignorant of her presence, continuing on with their work unimpeded.

Flurry's body tensed as she closed in on the gathered flotilla. One casual scan in her direction is all it would take, and she would have a real fight on her hooves. Her criminal instincts that she had honed over the past six years were screaming at her to turn tail, but she resisted the urge. Instead, she slowed her approach and tried to blend in amongst the station’s other traffic.

Suddenly, the ship’s comm system crackled into life. “Attention, unidentified vessel: this is Harmony Control,” a familiar mare's voice announced calmly. “Your arrival is unscheduled. State your business here.”

There was no visual, but Flurry recognized her hard, professional tone. It was the same mare she had spoken to earlier when she had passed on Nyx's distress message.

“Harmony Control, this is Flurry Heart of the Fleeting Dream. I have important information regarding the Orion.” Her eyes flicked warily back to the Alliance ships. She would have to be careful with what she said over an open channel. “I request permission to come aboard to discuss the matter in person.”

“Fleeting Dream, interfering with a directed distress message is in violation of interstellar law. You will surrender any data you have pertaining to the Orion at once," the mare demanded.

"In case you hadn't noticed, taking things that aren't mine is kinda my speciality," Flurry snarked. "Now we can sit here glaring at each other until one of those Alliance ships tries to shoot me down… Or you can let me dock and save yourself a lot of trouble, because I'm not leaving."

Flurry gave Whammy a nudge in satisfied jest, but she had a feeling that if the snail plushie had been able to move and had hooves, one would have been on his forehead just then.

A prolonged silence hung in the air between Flurry and the station. They had not severed the link with her, nor did there seem to be any reaction from the ships outside.

Her mind was already surveying the surroundings, plotting possible escape routes, lines of attack, and any cover she could use to her advantage.

Suddenly, her link crackled back to life, and the unicorn mare returned. “Fleeting Dream, permission to dock has been… granted. Hold position until your escort arrives.”

Flurry could practically hear the grinding of her teeth across the radio.

“See, Whammy. All under control,” she assured, her voice laced with self-satisfaction.

Whammy didn’t dignify her with a response.

It didn’t take long for four blips to appear on her sensors, coming towards her at high speed. She couldn't help but frown as they approached, their formation not being one she recognized. One was far ahead of the others, with the rest of them trailing behind in a line.

“What is this? Amateur hour or something?” Flurry grumbled. “This isn’t filling me with confidence, Whammy.”

Pegasus fighters usually stayed together to maximize firepower and to give mutual cover to each other. Stringing themselves out like these idiots meant they could be picked off one by one.

Flurry spun the Dream to face the oncoming ships, catching the glint of their canopies in the sun as they approached her. Much closer now, the elegant sweeping curves of these fast and nimble Republic Swallow fighters came into view.

The lead Swallow waited until the last moment to slow, the thruster veins in the ship’s wingtips glowing white as they brought the fighter to a sudden stop in front of her.

Flurry felt a tiny shiver down her spine as they sat nearly nose to nose. Not because of the manoeuvre, but because it was like coming face to face with a ghost.

The ship before her was a relic from the war, at least twenty years old and now very out of date. Seeing the long wings arched forward and characteristic bulge of the large golden teardrop canopy triggered frantic memories of hundreds of such craft charging against her and her allies during the war.

Flurry felt her leg twitching involuntarily on the triggers as the pair of gimballed pulse cannons under the fighter’s slightly pointed nose swung across to aim directly at her. Thankfully, the Dream's weapons were powered down, otherwise the ship outside would have already been reduced to vapour.

“Come on, Flurry,” she whispered to steady herself. “Keep it together.”

She felt Whammy shift against her forelegs as she squeezed him tightly.

Flurry shook off the feeling and eyed the fighter carefully. It was painted a bright blue, but its new livery couldn’t hide the hull patches and wear and tear on its frame.

Her radio crackled to life. “Attention: this is Rapier leader of the Harmony Defense Force. You are to follow us to docking bay two. If you deviate at any time, I have been authorised to use force at my discretion. Do you understand?”

There was an eagerness in the stallion’s voice, as if he was just begging for her to try something. Likewise, a part of Flurry’s mind almost wanted to oblige him.

The thought was quickly quashed by the reality of her situation. As fun as it would be to mess with these ponies, she didn’t have time to waste on such things.

“This is the Fleeting Dream, I copy,” she replied. “Lead the way, flyboy.”

He didn’t dignify her with a response. Instead, his companions moved into position above, below, and behind her.

The squad leader quickly brought her down beneath the station proper, where a long line of open hangar bays ran for at least a kilocanter, most sitting empty. Soon, they arrived at their destination in a remote section of the station where traffic was minimal. Flurry had to admit, after weeks in the black, the faint blue haze of the atmo-shield was a welcome sight.

The escorts stayed in tight formation with her all the way to the dock, only breaking away when she had no choice but to go forward. She quickly passed through the blue haze and felt the gentle breath of air caress the Dream’s hull.

The inside of the hangar was easily large enough to accommodate the Dream with room to spare. Large blast doors were closed on the left and right sides, partitioning her landing pad from the rest of Harmony’s hangars. Evidently, they didn’t want anypony to have any contact with their notorious guest.

Bringing the Dream down gently, Flurry set the ship onto the pad. She let out a sigh as her ship’s engines quietly spooled down. As the links to her ship faded, her awareness returned to the empty flight deck. Silence rushed in, filling the void left by the sudden disconnect from her ship’s sensors.

This time, it felt a little disconcerting. For the first time in a while, she felt… nervous. It had been a long time since she had cooperated with the authorities over, well, anything. With Nyx and her crew’s lives on the line, she couldn't afford to screw this up.

Flurry felt warmth between her forelegs and saw Whammy’s eyes bulging from the squeeze she was giving his tiny body.

“Whoops, sorry, Whammy,” she said, releasing her grip. “I guess I’m just a little apprehensive.”

Whammy’s head bobbed as his body returned to some semblance of normality once again.

“I know, weird, right? I’m the big bad Flurry Heart. Talking to some stuffy ponies should be foal’s play,” Flurry said puffing her chest out and trying to ignore the hollowness in her voice. Her bravado died quickly, making her ears flatten. “I’m worried, Whammy. What if they don’t believe me?”

She rose to her hooves and lifted Whammy to join her.

“That’s true, they did let us land,” she pondered. “At least they’re willing to hear me out.”

One of Whammy’s eyes jiggled in her telekinetic grip.

“Yes, yes, I promise I’ll hear them out as well,” she snorted with a wave of her hoof. “Let's get going. We don’t want to keep these Harmony ponies waiting, especially since they rolled out the red carpet for us.”

Flurry cautiously stepped onto the gantry and took a deep breath. The air tasted fresh—still tainted by oil and metal, but far cleaner than what she was used to. She was glad she had decided to wear her flight jacket, as it was decidedly chilly in the vast hangar bay. Beyond the blast doors, Flurry heard the sounds of work going on in other bays, echoing through the cathedral-sized space.

“You okay there, Whammy?” she asked, looking to where the plushie was strapped to her jacket’s shoulder.

The plushie remained still—perhaps, Flurry assumed, out of embarrassment. He looked like a tube of toothpaste that somepony had squeezed in the middle, his fluff bulging on either side of the strap, stretching his seams. It was not graceful or stylish, but it meant he could get a good view of what was going on.

“You look fine,” she nickered. “It's a good look for you.”

As Flurry trotted down the gantry, his antennae bobbed up and down, comically, only increasing her mirth. It was a silly thing, all things considered, but it helped stem the anxiety that was coiling inside as her hooves hit the deck.

Her attention was drawn to several figures emerging from a doorway at the far end of the hangar. There were five of them, four clad in jet black security armour and the last wearing a sky-blue uniform.

As she got closer, she could see that the others were three earth ponies and a zebra concealed mostly behind armour. Their shoulder-mounted weapons were currently holstered, making her think that they weren't here to arrest her… at least, not yet.

Standing at the center was a tall unicorn mare with a pristine white coat and deep-blue mane. It was styled in a neat practical bun, the mare exuding an aura of professional composure that would be the envy of a Canterlot Royal Guard. The silver epaulettes on the unicorn’s shoulders positively glistened in the light of the hangar, as did the command bars on her chest.

Somepony must have drawn the short straw, Flurry thought to herself.

What drew Flurry's attention, however, was the chain of small gems woven into a lock of the unicorn's mane. It was the signature of a knight of the Evocarum.

Wow, the Federation sent one of their best, Flurry pondered, eyeing the line of rubies and sapphires carefully. She must be here to guard their investment.

No doubt this mare had been sent down to make sure she didn't cause any trouble. Only a fool picks a fight with an Evocarii, and Flurry knew from experience to be wary of them.

The mare regarded her for a moment, those deep blue eyes looking briefly to Whammy then back to her, an eyebrow cocked.

To Flurry's surprise, the mare then bowed. “Greetings. I am Lieutenant-Commander Snow Drift of the Harmony Defence Force. On behalf of Harmony Station, I welcome you.”

Flurry raised an eyebrow. “Thank you. I admit, I wasn't expecting formality.”

Snow Drift lifted her head. “You are a guest of Harmony and will be given all due courtesy.”

“And those four?”

“Given your reputation, it was felt an escort was necessary to put our personnel at ease. Do not be concerned; they're here for your protection,” Snow Drift replied.

"I feel safer already," Flurry replied, trying and failing to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

“Now, if you'll follow me, I'll take you to see Captain Oakheart so we can conclude your business,” Snow Drift said, gesturing for her to follow.

“Oakheart? As in the Oakheart?” Flurry gasped.

“You've heard of him?”

“Who hasn't? He was a legend in the Alliance fleet during the war,” she replied. “How'd he end up here?”

“The Director recruited him personally. That's as much as I know,” Snow said. “Now, unless you have any more questions, we'll be on our way.”

A Spell knight of the Evocarum and a war hero from the Alliance… quite a setup they have here, Flurry pondered. They certainly had no shortage of capable ponies at the very least.

“Great. The sooner we get this done, the better,” she said while trotting beside the unicorn, their escort falling in on either side.

“Indeed,” Snow Drift replied coolly. “We're still picking up the pieces from your arrival.”

“Oh? Nothing bad I hope,” Flurry inquired innocently.

The unicorn's brow twitched slightly and her tail flicked. “Nothing we can't handle, we’re just dealing with some… difficulties with the Guild after your arrival.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” she said, fighting back the urge to smile.

“I'm sure you are,” Snow Drift replied sternly, giving her a pointed look. “Hopefully, we can avoid any disruptions in the future, compensating the Guild navigators is an expense Harmony can ill afford.”

“We wouldn't want the Guild to be out of pocket now, would we?” Flurry commented.

Snow Drift worked her jaw. “Quite.”

Oh I'm going to have fun with you, Flurry thought with a mischievous chuckle.

Snow Drift exhaled slowly, and they continued on towards the doorway. As they neared the exit, there was a gasp and a sudden clatter of tools hitting the deck, making everypony spin to face the source.

Off to their right, standing beside a pressure door leading to another bay, was a lime-green pegasus mare, clad in a grease-stained technician’s uniform. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as they focused onto Flurry.

The mare shook visibly, her wings open and a foreleg raised. “L-Last Shadow! She's here?!”

Before anypony could stop her, she bolted away.

Snow Drift looked to Flurry with an eyebrow raised. Flurry merely facehoofed and let out a grumble.

This is all I need right now.

Chapter 4 - Last Shadow

Lieutenant Swan Song extended her wings, gently easing her Swallow fighter down onto the deck with practiced ease. The sensation of the landing gear touching the deck resonated through the link into her hooves as the fighter settled on the deck.

Ahead of her, a stallion in a yellow jacket with a pair of orange marshaling wands on his wings stood a few canters from her nose, his wings extended to the ground as they completed their duet.

As her engines began to wind down, Swan felt the brief disorientation of the links to her fighter being turned off, one by one. The readouts, artificial horizon, reticles, and sensor data all disappeared from her vision, and she was once again back to being a mere mortal pony.

As her wing braces retracted, folding themselves back into her cockpit, she was confronted by very organic sensations.

Her whole body ached from the tedious mission she and her squadron had just completed. Even worse than the stiff joints and dry throat, her buttocks felt like they had been turned to jelly, and her flight suit now felt like a soggy bag clinging to her body.

The Swallow was a lot of things, but comfortable, it was not.

Outside, the ground crew scurried around in a frenetic rush to secure her squadron's ships. A quiet chuckle escaped her muzzle as Swan saw crew chief Ratchet barking orders from atop an equipment trolley. The wizened steel-grey pegasus stallion coordinated his ground crew like a grizzly drill sergeant and with the bark to match. She winced from the safety of her cockpit as a fresh-faced stallion in an orange high-viz jacket dawdled just long enough to draw the chief’s ire.

Her ship shuddered as it was slowly led off the landing grid and towards its berth at the opposite end of the hangar.

“I’m glad that’s over with,” a stallion's voice buzzed over the squadron’s intercom. “Did you see that mess at the gate? Some idiot opened up an unauthorized jump point right in the middle of traffic. I’d hate to be in charge of untangling that!”

“Yeah,” Swan chuckled. “Those horn-heads are probably wetting their pants right about now. Somepony’s head will roll for sure. At least it won’t be ours, am I right?”

“Tell me about it,” Blitz replied.

Swan allowed herself a smile, casting a glance over to her squadmate’s ship, now waiting for the tow tractor to arrive. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes as her gaze drifted across his newly painted nose art.

An impossibly lithe, butter-coloured pegasus mare in mid-flight adorned the Swallow's nose. The mare's wings were outstretched, her bright green mane billowing out as she rode an invisible wind. The fantasy was coyly looking upwards towards his cockpit, her blue eyes quietly beckoning him to give chase. It always earned a bemused chuckle from Swan every time her squadmate got a new breath of inspiration.

“If I have to look at another rock again, I’ll go insane,” Swan commented as she worked the muscles in her neck, earning a soft pop. Six hours of guarding a dirt pony mining operation had been an exercise in patience and endurance for her squadron. Foalsitting a bunch of miners as they scratched around on some barren asteroids in the middle of nowhere was not what she called fun. If those ore thieves hadn't tried their luck with them, she might have died of boredom.

“I hear that,” he acknowledged wearily. “I don’t know how those earth ponies do it. They were like machines out there.”

Swan grudgingly accepted that it was impressive watching the dirt ponies go to work. Somehow, they had crawled around out there for hours without breaking a sweat. Humiliatingly, it was her squadron that had forced their expedition to return to base, thanks to a dwindling supply of oxygen in the fighters. She could just imagine those muckrakers laughing at them all the way back.

“Dirt’s drawn to dirt,” she grumbled, internally lamenting the fact that the carrier should have been there with them for such a lengthy mission. Not that ‘Lord’ Merry Weather, master of the stars, would risk his ship for something so trivial.

She quickly banished the thought from her mind before it could take root. The last thing she wanted right now was thoughts of him fouling her mood further.

Blitz chuckled, “Careful, Swanny. We’re supposed to play nice with the other tribes.”

Swan gave a derisive snort, the idea leaving a foul taste in her mouth. “If those ponies want to go rolling around in the dirt, then they can do it by themselves. Don’t go dragging us along for the ride.”

“It’s not like we have a choice, Swan,” Blitz reminded her.

She shook her head with a dismissive huff. “Makes me wonder how they ever fought us off.”

“Come on, Swan, isn't that the whole point of Harmony?” he said with a sigh. “Working together with each other?”

A scowl crossed her face, her expression souring. “Don’t tell me you believe the crap they fed us in those pamphlets.”

“What can I say, I’m an optimist.”

“The only way is up, eh?” she commented with a wry smile.

“Exactly!”

Swan glanced over to the rest of her aerie’s ships arrayed out across the far wall, stacked neatly atop each other in their individual bays. There were gaps for those out on patrol, but the vast majority were sitting idle. Some were still draped in the tarps they had been wrapped in when they first arrived on Harmony. A soft sigh escaped her muzzle when she thought of where most of those pilots were at this very moment.

The pilot's capsule slid backwards to rest upon a groove built into the fighter’s back. Gently, the gold-tinted canopy hissed open, releasing Swan from the confines of her cockpit. Disconnecting her helmet from the cockpit, she stood up on shaky hooves, stretching her weary body.

With a soft pop, her helmet collapsed itself before sliding back onto the brace on her neck. The rush of scent and sound of the hangar was overwhelming after the near silence of her ship. Oil, bare metal, and the acrid smell of freshly welded steel assaulted her nostrils, and she greedily took in the scent. Caelum this place was not, but it sure beat recycled air and the odour of her own sweat any day.

Swan clambered out of her ship and hopped down onto the cold hangar deck. The technicians, after waiting patiently for clearance, descended upon her ship like a pack of wolves, popping panels and checking gauges.

“Welcome back, Lieutenant,” Ratchet greeted, his gravelly voice bringing a smile to her face. “Any problems to report?”

"That damn gimbal jammed on me," she reported.

"Again?" he groaned, leaning underneath her Swallow's nose. After a few moments of tinkering and muffled curses, he peered up. "Yep, thing has completely seized. Looks like we'll have to pull the whole mount."

Without a word, two of his deck crew scurried underneath and began unbolting the gun mount.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Nothing mechanical at least," she replied, rolling her shoulders. The motion caused her to wince as the ache at the base of her wings worsened.

He placed a hoof on her shoulder. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. How many sorties is this now? Three in the last thirty-six hours? Parts I can replace, but I can’t fix a broken pilot.”

Swan gave him a reassuring smile, shrugging off the pain. “I’m fine. Nothing a hot shower and a good meal won’t fix. Besides, somepony has to keep my aerie in order.”

She glanced over to Blitz’s ship. The stallion was currently perched on a wing, chatting with a couple of mares from the ground crew. He was grinning broadly, gesturing wildly as he regaled his audience with an exaggerated tale of their mission. The two mares giggled like a pair of school fillies at Blitz wiggling his eyebrows at them.

That stallion.

“Nice to see somepony still has some energy,” Ratchet commented, his frown hardening as his gaze followed hers. "Still, won't do your aerie any good if you collapse from exhaustion."

“Better out there than in here,” she said with a sigh, her ears flattening. “Did you go to His Lordship’s party last night?”

Ratchet fluffed his wings, his expression shifting to one of disgust. “Like I’d be seen dead in a place like that. Most of my crew feel the same way—not right to be treatin’ ponies like that, even if they are just blackwings.” He paled a little, clearing his throat awkwardly before his expression softened. “No offense.”

Swan fidgeted her discoloured wings uncomfortably and looked away. “None taken.”

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Listen, I heard from some of my crew about what you did for them a few days ago. Those dirt ponies from maintenance are always comin ‘round here pickin’ fights. Good thing you showed up when you did. So thank you.”

“Happy to put dirt ponies in their place,” she said, managing a smile.

He gave her a slight bow, doffing his cap at her. “It’s appreciated. Speaking of… scuttlebutt says there’s a big operation coming up.”

Swan frowned, raising an eyebrow. “Oh?”

He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I got word from the top to have your whole aerie fueled up and ready to go. The other section chiefs have been called up as well, all hush-hush like. A friend in supply says there’s a lot of equipment on the move.”

Swan pondered, scratching her chin with a hoof. There hadn’t been any exercises or drills planned. Say what you will about the station’s dirt pony captain, but he ran a tight ship. Between him and his witch of a first officer, they were always given plenty of advance notice for important things.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find out one way or another," he said with a reassuring smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and motivate my crew some more. You’d best tend to your flock, Mother Hen.”

He laughed at her scowl, giving her a pat on the shoulder before trotting off to oversee his workers.

Oh, how she hated that nickname.

“Hey, Swanny,” Blitz called, the grey-green stallion trotting up to her with his usual swagger. “The chief have much to say?”

Swan gave him a hard look that made him pause. “Only that he’d prefer if you didn’t hit on his deck crew.”

Blitz shrugged, giving her an easy smile. “Come on, if he had a problem, he’d have chewed me out by now.”

“Who says he isn’t going to?” she replied coyly. “I don’t want to have to drag your tail out of another fight with an angry husband.”

“That was one time!” he exclaimed, blushing slightly. “How was I supposed to know she was married? I can’t help it if mares want what I got.”

He puffed up his chest, doing his best heroic pose, like the ones from the recruitment ads.

“Uh huh,” she deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.

“Gotta unwind somehow, Swanny,” he said with a wink.

“Just keep your recreational activities off the flight deck, okay?” she said, shaking her head as she conceded defeat.

“Speedster’s honour,” he said, standing to attention and saluting with a wing. “But enough about work. How about we go and grab a bite to eat before hitting the showers? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

A grumble from her stomach announced her body’s approval of the idea. She was in the mood to eat something fatty and decidedly unhealthy after the day she’d had.

As usual, however, duty called. Swan saw the familiar forms of the rest of her squadron fluttering up to join them. Blitz straightened himself, taking position beside her as they approached.

“Best make it good for our little brood of chicks, eh?” he whispered.

Swan hid her scowl as they landed before her, arranging themselves like they were on the parade ground. They all looked weary, their eyelids drooping even as they stood before her. Even so, they all gave her a sharp salute as she regarded them.

They were all youngsters, barely out of their teens. Like so many in her aerie, this was their first posting off-world. She pitied them that this was where they had ended up: stuck with dirt ponies, horn-heads, and Merry Weather.

Still, they had jumped into their assignment with admirable fervour. She never had any shortage of volunteers when trying to fill her duty rosters. Serving a pony like Merry Weather had its perks at least—if you turned a blind eye to the disproportionate number of mares her aerie possessed.

“At ease,” Swan said softly. “You all did a great job out there today.” They slouched and a few gave relieved smiles. “But that doesn’t mean you get to slack off.”

She turned to a mint green stallion with a white mane, he tensed as their eyes met. “Nose Dive, you keep drifting out of formation. Make sure you pay attention to your surroundings.” She switched quickly to the purple mare on his right. "Spiral, you nearly collided with the mining platform during your patrol, I know dirt ponies are slow, but don’t let that distract you.”

They listened, replying with a quick 'Yes, ma’am!’ when she called them out. Most were only minor mistakes, hardly worth mentioning, but her younger squadmates listened intently. They were eager for any meagre wisdom their elder could provide. She knew that a blackwing rarely got much help from their instructors at the academy. If only she had more to teach than simple flying.

“Okay, that’s enough criticism for today,” Swan said with a soft smile. “We'll smooth down the rough edges with more flight time. Now go and get something to eat and get some rest. That’s an order.”

She gave them a salute, and they returned it with eager gusto. They then quickly took to the air, spurred on by the promise of hot food and a warm bed.

Blitz let out a sigh as he watched them fly away. “Damn, they make me feel so old.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, now that the Mother Hen has finished tending to her chicks, how about we go and relax ourselves?” he said, fluffing his wings with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Swan let out a tired sigh, her ears drooping, “I can’t. I need to deliver my report to Merry Weather.”

“Can’t it wait? He’s probably too drunk to read it anyway,” he grumbled, irritation heavy in his voice.

Swan shook her head, “In truth, I’m really hoping he is drunk.” She wasn’t in the mood to be dealing with his antics at the moment.

Blitz’s stance softened. “I’ll come with you if you’d like.”

“Thanks,” she nodded.

Together, they took to the air and headed towards the crew quarters. They passed through the hangar and out into the vast interlinked maintenance bays beyond. Divided into sections by enormous blast doors, the bays handled all the day-to-day maintenance of Harmony’s flotilla of ships. Looping around in a great ring, they made up the outer sections of the Harmony docks.

As they neared the pressure door leading off to the crew quarters, they noticed a large crowd gathered outside. She spotted her squadmates amongst them, along with other ponies from the maintenance division.

“What’s this all about?” Swan asked, getting a shrug from Blitz.

As they came in to land, she could feel a broiling tension in the air. Wings were bristled and ears swiveled or were flattened to ponies’ heads. A nervous cacophony of chatter emanated from the group, and more than a few paced nervously about with brows furrowed. The whole group looked ready to leap into the air in panic at any moment.

“Lieutenant!” came a familiar voice as Cinnamon Swirl fought her way out of the crowd to join them.

“Cinnamon?” Swan frowned. “Shouldn’t you be off-duty?”

The chocolate brown mare’s ears flattened. “I was, until I heard the news.”

“What’s happened? An accident?” Swan tensed, her thoughts running a million canters a minute.

“Worse. It’s Last Shadow,” Cinnamon revealed with a whisper, shrinking where she stood. “She’s here on Harmony.” The mare glanced back and forth as if speaking the name out loud might summon the mad alicorn right before her eyes.

Flurry Heart… Swan froze, her blood running cold at the mere mention of the name. Her pupils shrank, and she felt the breath catch in her chest. The hangar felt like it was spinning, the noise from the crowd becoming muffled.

“Are you sure?” Blitz asked skeptically. “Those colts in flight ops are probably just yanking your chains.”

“No way," Cinnamon said with a fervent shake of her head. "I heard there was a big commotion up in C&C. It looks like they're trying to keep this on the down-low."

That explained why Swan hadn't heard anything on the flight back. If word got out that they had let Last Shadow onboard, it would've caused a riot.

"Do we know what docking bay she's in?" Swan asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Two, I think," Cinnamon replied. "Raspberry said she saw Snow Drift and some security goons heading that way."

"Then let's go, I need to see this for myself," Swan said firmly, trotting towards the exit.

"Are you crazy?! What if she's there?" Cinnamon gasped, her wings trembling.

"At least we'll know for sure," she replied calmly. "It'll be safer if you both stay here."

"No way," Blitz said with an eager grin. "If she's here, I want to get a look at her."

"I guess I'm in too," Cinnamon groaned.

"You don't have to, Cinnamon," she said, placing a hoof on her shoulder. “This is my job.”

"No, you're my squadmate and we have to stick together," she insisted, swallowing and straightening herself. "I just hope if we catch sight of her, it's from really far away."

"Don't worry, we're only going to confirm," Swan assured.

Fighting comes later, she thought to herself.

They then made their way quickly down through Harmony's maze of docking pads and maintenance yards. Bay two was more isolated than the rest, meant for containment if they were forced to bring something nasty on to the station. Thus it made perfect sense as a cage for Last Shadow.

Swan felt a heavy sense of anticipation grip her as they approached the bay. To have Last Shadow so close after all this time, it was tantalizing. She wasn't about to let this opportunity slip by.

They soon stood before the pressure door leading to docking bay two. Swan half expected the door to have been ripped off by now, given everything she knew of Last Shadow, but everything appeared normal. Two security earth ponies stood on either side of the door, coming to attention as she approached.

"I am Lieutenant Swan Song," she greeted calmly, giving them a salute. "I heard you have something special in there, and I'd like to take a look."

"Yes, ma'am," an earth pony stallion replied with a thick accent that made Blitz snigger behind her. "Though keep what ya see to yourself. The captain wants this all kept hush hush-like. Don't want to scare the civvies or the pill— the local pegasi."

The stallion gave an awkward cough and fell silent.

Swan simply gave him a bemused smile. "Thank you, corporal, I'll be sure to remember that."

Dirt ponies, she shook her head.

As they stepped through the door, Swan Song gasped at the sight of the ship sitting idle in the bay, a small cordon of guards surrounding it.

Resting on a trio of tall landing gear, it was slightly larger than a Skylark corvette in length, and nearly twice as tall. Its jet-black fuselage was long and broad, like the blade of a finely crafted Xiphos. A curved humpback ran along the ship's spine with a bulging cargo bay and ramp on the underside. A set of double delta wings arched gracefully from her hull, ending in two contoured weapons pods. Towards the rear were two massive triangular vectored engine nozzles, as well as a few devices Swan had never seen before.

There was no nameplate on it, but Swan knew this ship anywhere: the Fleeting Dream, a ship as infamous as the one who piloted it.

Blitz let out an awed whistle as he regarded the ship. "Damn, I never thought I'd see this ship up close like this. A lot bigger than I thought."

"It gives me the creeps," Cinnamon commented.

As Swan approached it, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, as if she were in the presence of a sleeping predator. She tried to shake it off, but irrational fear gripped her, drying her mouth. She had seen this ship so many times in her youth and had burned the image of it into her memory. The sight of it swatting Republic fighters out of the air during the war had horrified her as a child, and being so close to it now reawakened old memories and fears.

Even so, Swan felt the urge to reach out and touch this ship, as if to confirm it was really there.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," one of the guards warned. "That alicorn put some kind of field on it when she left with Lieutenant Commander Snow Drift. If you don't want to be put on your ass, no touchy." He then quickly added, "ma'am."

Swan chose to ignore the sarcasm thick in the guard's voice. "How long ago was that?"

"Ten minutes ago I think. We just got here ourselves," he shrugged.

Ten minutes! Last Shadow could be anywhere by now.

"Thank you," she said, briskly giving the guard a nod before turning to Blitz and Cinnamon. "We have to inform His Lordship about this."

"You really think he'll do anything against her?" Blitz grumbled, bristling his wings.

"He will," she replied firmly. "Because I'm going to make him."

There was a reason the officer’s mess and accommodation block had earned the nickname ‘The Palace’. The crest of the Pegasus Republic adorned every door—a pair of golden arching wings, clutching a starfield. The once bare metal corridors were draped with red sashes along with airy paintings of the skies of Caelum. It was a brave attempt to mimic the halls of the royal court back home. In the harsh artificial light of the corridor, however, it just looked gaudy and a bit pathetic.

As Swan and Blitz trotted through the corridors, they passed remnants of last night’s festivities. One of the crew of Merry’s carrier lay asleep on the floor, dozing off his excesses. Swan imagined the punishments she would have endured if she had been caught like this. Bile rose in her throat as she trotted past—the thought of these ponies wearing the Emperor’s uniform sickening her to her core.

Blitz had remained silent during their journey, trailing behind her. That alone told her that he was worried. Every time she looked back at him, his eyes and thoughts were elsewhere, a listless melancholy to his steps. No doubt he was thinking the same thing she was—just what was Last Shadow doing here? The alicorn had disappeared after the war, emerging only to prey on ally and enemy alike. For her to brazenly come knocking at Harmony’s door meant something big was going on. Worse still, Swan and Blitz both knew that they would be the first ones thrown into the grinder if things got messy. Though, in Swan’s case, that suited her just fine.

Eventually, they arrived at what was supposed to be the pilot's lounge. It had been taken as Merry Weather’s throne room, of sorts, where he and his crew whiled away the day with drinking, gambling, and worse. She hesitated at the doorway, casting a glance back toward Blitz. “Wait here, I won't be long.”

Blitz nodded, sitting down beside the door. “Be careful in there. You know how Merry gets when he hears unwelcome news.”

“I will.”

“Just call if you need me. I’ve got your back,” he assured firmly.

“Thanks,” she said, managing a weak smile. After a pause, she took a slow, measured breath and stepped inside.

The overpowering stench of burnt aerohol and incense, mixed with sweat, assaulted her senses. Swan let out a snort as the miasma tickled at her nose and fogged her vision. She tried in vain to cool herself with her wings, but it only served to move the hot, damp air around her.

The room was bathed in the flickering golden light of a dozen lamps that dotted the den. Shadows danced across the walls and through the gossamer white curtains that divided the room. A haphazard collection of brightly coloured floor cushions and pillows lay in clusters on the deck, surrounding shisha pipes billowing wispy, white smoke into the air. Ponies lay sprawled across them, some dozing contently while others lay in a dazed stupor with vacant, slack-jawed expressions on their faces.

Whispers and laughter soon found their way to Swan’s ears as the more alert of the throng became aware of her presence.

“Oh look, it’s our lord's favourite blackwing,” a stallion chuckled with amusement. “All geared up in that tight little flight suit. Maybe she is here to give us a show?”

“His very own toy soldier,” a mare giggled. “Perhaps she will do a little march for us?”

Their barbed words dug deep, but her years in Merry’s service had given her a thick hide. She focused on her goal, which lay just beyond this minefield of debauchery.

Soon, familiar faces emerged from the haze. She recognized several stallions from her aerie busy cleaning up the leftovers from the festivities. A few gave her a nod as she passed by, but most were dragging their hooves, fighting to stay awake after what must have been a long night.

Swan eventually reached the largest of the dens, that was reserved for the master of these sorry excuses for ponies. It was hidden behind thick curtains, like somepony had set a tent up in the middle of the room. The soft, hauntingly beautiful notes of a panpipe drifted out from within.

Swallowing, she cleared her throat. “My lord, are you… unoccupied?”

“Who is it?” Came a slightly high-pitch stallion’s voice that instantly grated on her nerves.

“Swan Song, my lord. I have urgent news,” she said.

“Oh?” Came a disinterested reply, followed by a snort. “Very well, you may enter.”

Doing her best to smooth out her sour expression, she passed through the curtain and into Lord Merry Weather’s court. There, the fat oaf sat on a cloud couch, his bulk sinking into the discoloured puff of cloud. He wore no uniform, his rusty brown coat and blonde mane always remaining perfectly styled regardless of what he got up to. At his hooves, lay three mares from Swan’s aerie, resting on purple, velvet cushions. Of the trio, two of them looked away, cheeks bright red with shame, while the third simply lay listless, gazing at her through half-lidded eyes.

Swan gave them each a soft, gentle smile and a supportive nod in their direction. She understood those feelings of shame and embarrassment all too well.

Sitting beside Merry was his shipmaster, Downdraft, lingering there like a bad odour. The dark-green stallion was meant to be directing flight ops, though the only orders he seemed capable of issuing lately were to ask for another bottle. He was the reason why Swan’s workload was five times what it was meant to be.

To the left, the composed form of Calliope stood, her wings outstretched, feathers drifting across the wind pipes before her. The purple mare could have been a songstress in the orchestras of Caelum, had she not been branded. Instead, Merry Weather kept her like a caged bird, constantly playing for his amusement.

“Ah, my dear Swan Song,” Merry greeted, his eyes carrying a predatory glint. “Such a shame you missed the party last night.”

“Forgive me, I had to plan for the next day’s mission,” she said, dropping to her knees and spreading her wings. “My lord, I have urgent news.”

“If it’s another dull report of you foalsitting dirt ponies, I’m not interested,” he said with a haughty tilt of his head “I’ve had that bore Oakheart pestering me for the past three hours over some trivial nonsense.”

Swan frowned but said nothing. Was this linked to the operation that Ratchet had heard about? Maybe this was all to prepare for Flurry Heart’s arrival?

“Has no pony told you?” she asked, her eyes darting between the others only to be met with shrugs.

“Told me what? Spit it out, would you?” he huffed, fluffing his wings.

“The brigand Flurry Heart has just arrived on station,” she stated grimly.

His ears perked, the colour draining from his face as he sat up. “S-she’s here?”

“Yes, I believe she docked some twenty minutes ago, my lord,” she replied.

“And you just let her dock unmolested?” Merry hissed, flaring his wings and making the mares at his hooves shy away.

At his silent command, the enchantments in Swan’s wings began to crackle with restrained electrical pulses. Her mind raced to find a way to still his wrath.

“I rushed here as soon as I had confirmed her arrival,” she said, adding enough earnesty in her voice to sound convincing. “Your safety was my first concern, my lord.”

“And if she had been here, would you have defended me?” he asked.

“With my life,” she said, slightly depressed that she actually meant it. If defending this fool meant she had a chance to take down Last Shadow, the blow to her pride was more than worth it.

Merry hopped down from his cloud and trotted over to her. “Yes, I have no doubt you would have. You’ve always been my most loyal pet,” he said fondly, his hoof running through her mane, making her body tense. She focused on the floor and tried to ignore the brush of his wings against hers.

“I live to serve,” she cringed, wishing the deck would give way and swallow her whole.

“The question now is, how do we respond?” Merry mused, talking more to himself than her.

"Lord Merry Weather," Downdraft uttered. "We should escape while we have the chance. If Last Shadow corners you here there’s no telling what she’ll do."

Merry Weather said nothing, merely humming in thought.

“My lord, we need more informa—” Swan began, only to have his hoof press her head down into the deck.

“Shh, I’m thinking,” he said, grinding his hoof into her skull.

Maybe if you actually read your damn mail, we wouldn’t be in this situation, she thought through clenched teeth. Have to bite the bullet or we’ll be here all day.

“Perhaps, if you allowed me to go and find out the intentions of the other tribes,” she suggested, feeling the pressure on her head ease while he considered. “They wouldn’t have allowed her to dock unless something serious was going on.”

Merry mulled over her proposal, his wings fluttering involuntarily as he thought. Gradually, a small smile crept onto his muzzle.

“A fine idea! Go then, find out what those dullards are up to," he said, lifting his hoof from her head. “Report back to me what you find.”

“At once,” she said, rising to her hooves as he waddled back to his cloud. She turned to leave, but the anger in her belly demanded she stay. “My lord, if I may, I have a request.”

Merry stopped, tilting his head backwards to regard her. “Oh?”

“If I encounter the brigand, allow me the honour of attempting her capture,” she asked.

“You?” he laughed. “A mere blackwing? I did not know you desired to leave my service so badly.”

“The Emperor demands her capture,” she said, fervour creeping into her voice. “We can’t allow an enemy of the Republic to flounce around unchallenged. We would shame ourselves as pegasi.”

Merry's smile widened like he'd just heard a funny joke. “You blackwings are up to your flanks in shame.” He lifted one of the nearby mare’s faces with a hoof, playfully stroking her chin. “A little more won’t hurt you. I will not provoke that monster, especially over something as trivial as a traitor's honour.”

Of course you wouldn’t, you coward, she thought bitterly. She would have to try a different tack with him.

“If we force Flurry Heart’s hooves, the other tribes will have to respond. Her capture would be assured,” she offered. “Imagine the prestige you would earn back home if you brought her back in chains.”

Merry’s eyes glazed over for a moment as he pondered the idea. “Yes, that does have a certain appeal,” he murmured almost to himself. She could imagine the idiot fantasizing his glorious return home. Then, his expression became more wistful. "It pains me to think I might lose you, my dear Swan. Finding mares as uniquely skilled as you is a hard thing these days."

Merry's eyes lingered on her before he let out a sigh. "No matter. Very well, you may proceed.”

“Thank you, my lord,” she said with a relieved sigh.

“Your actions will be given a favourable mention in my report home, should you succeed,” he said, sinking back into his cloud with a sigh. “Oh, and Swan Song?”

“Yes, my lord?”

“Be sure to die well,” he said with a grin before turning his attention back to his mares.

Swan trotted outside and let out a heavy sigh, a grim smile creeping on her face. What she was about to do was insane and suicidal, yet she felt strangely giddy, almost euphoric. It wasn’t often the pony that ruined your life fell into your hooves.

Chapter 5 - Worlds Collide

The locker room was quiet, with all the ponies from Swan’s squadron having cleaned up or still out there with the others, worrying about Last Shadow. It meant Swan Song had the place to herself when she trotted inside with Blitz hot on her hooves.

Sightings of Last Shadow were already beginning to circulate through the aerie, which meant she didn’t have time to dawdle.

The scent of stale sweat, soap, and flight suits all mixed together in a heady aroma, the humidity from the showers making the air clammy. It had been such a fixture of her life that Swan found the odour oddly comforting; this was the beating heart of the Aerie. Each locker was like its owner’s stamp on the world, full of a haphazard collection of stickers, photos and pictures. It was against regulations, but rule books be damned—here, her ponies had a chance to express themselves a little and be individuals, not ranks or numbers. With everything going on outside, they were all equals there.

Walking slowly, Swan passed by each one in turn, the flight helmets resting neatly atop each locker. Yet, when one of them died, some new pony would take their place. Perhaps, that was why her locker was bare, save for the name plate.

When I’m gone, it’ll be like I was never here. Just remove my name and that is that. Swan shook her head to try and dispel her morbid thinking. The reality of the situation hung in the air like a foul odour, always there in the back of her mind, tugging her down.

She was going to die soon, and she accepted it.

Swan was under no illusions about her chances; the stories that circulated about the mad alicorn made that depressingly clear. Last Shadow had killed hundreds of her tribe during the war, cutting a swath through the Republic’s best troops. Against numbers, firepower, and tactics, that mare had swept past it all like a terrible force of nature. Even now, the alicorn stalked the space lanes like some kind of vile revenant, going so far as to prey on her former allies with impunity. With only a meagre amount of combat experience to her name, how could she possibly prevail against that?

Even so, her mind was set, the doubts scratching in the back of her mind rapidly fading. Sacrifice was a part of becoming a blackwing, and if her dying brought that monster one step closer to justice, it would all be worth it.

Straightening, Swan unclipped the helmet from her back and placed it on her locker before slowly unpeeling her sweaty flight suit. If she was going to die, she might as well feel comfortable while doing so.

“Swan,” Blitz began, his voice hesitant. “Can we talk about this?”

“Don’t, Blitz, I’ve made up my mind,” Swan replied, refusing to look him in the eye for fear that her resolve would crumble.

“At least help me understand. I thought you didn’t buy into that ‘redeem yourself in glorious death’ crap they spouted at us back at flight school,” he said, taking off his own flight gear.

“I don’t.”

“Then tell me why!” he yelled, slamming his locker shut. “I thought we made an oath. How am I supposed to take down Merry if you’re dead?”

Swan turned and looked at him. “Because she is the reason I’m here, Blitz.” She flexed her black wings at him. “She took my life from me and made me into this.”

“And how is her killing you going to change anything? Come on, Swanny, just think about this.”

Looking away, Swan's eyes became fixed on the picture taped to the inside of the locker door. A happy, smiling family beamed back at her, locked in a happier time that seemed like a dream to her now.

It had been taken on the day of her brother Star Song’s graduation from the Academy. Swan had been six years old at the time, and it was one of the best days of her life. It had been a gloriously sunny day, soft shards of light filtering through the trees that lined the boulevard outside the Academy. The scent of tree sap and flowers played across her nose, the memory still vivid in her mind. Her brother sat in the centre, clad in his new uniform and grinning like an idiot, his forelegs hugging her tightly. Behind them, their mother smiled, tears of pride in her eyes, a wing draped across her brother’s shoulder. The only thing that was missing was her father, that portion having been torn off long ago.

The memory quickly became bitter as she glared at that missing piece, the image of his face still clear in her mind. The memories of what came after soured that scene.

The war.

Disgrace.

Merry Weather.

She shuddered at the thought. “If it gets my family out of his service, then it’s worth it. Just… just look after the others, okay?”

Blitz let out an angry snort while scratching his mane. “Damn it, Swan.”

Trotting over to him, she placed a hoof on his shoulder. “And no more hitting on the ground crew, okay?”

A melancholy chuckle escaped his muzzle. “If you think I’m letting you go solo in this then you’ve another thing coming.”

“No, Blitz.”

He shook his head defiantly. “If you’re going then I’m going; that’s what a wingmate is supposed to do.” Grasping her fetlock, he gave it a gentle squeeze. “That’s what a friend is supposed to do.”

A soft smile played on her lips, putting her heart in her mouth for a moment. “Thank you.”

The words felt inadequate for how she felt, her heart swelling with pride.

“Hey, we’re a team, You ain’t breaking up the band now,” he grinned, puffing out his chest. “So let’s go and kick this mare’s flank already, I’m starving!”

Despite the hopelessness of their situation Swan laughed. If she was going to face a monster, she felt safe in the knowledge that a friend had her back.

“Alright, you goofball,” she smiled. “Let’s get going.”

They trotted towards the door and headed off to find Last Shadow.

Flurry Heart stood in the elevator, watching the slow procession of floor numbers creep up. A catchy tune involving a xylophone bleated into the cramped elevator car from an overhead speaker. Her eyebrow twitched, the urge to rip the damn thing out of the ceiling becoming more appealing by the second.

Not that the conditions were improving her mood any.

Between the four armoured equines, a prissy unicorn officer, and an irritable alicorn, things were decidedly cosy inside. Hemmed in from all sides by her escort, so close she couldn’t fluff her wings without hitting somepony in the face, Flurry’s mood was souring rapidly.

The encounter with the technician down in the hanger lingered on Flurry’s thoughts. She was silently kicking herself for letting her guard down. Things had been going a little too well so far, what with the ease of getting onboard and her escort treating her somewhat amicably. It was only a matter of time before an encounter with the pegasi, though she had hoped to at least get out of the hangar bay first.

Her escorts were quiet, though their nervousness permeated thick and heavy in the air. The ponies in front would occasionally look back at her, only to snap their heads forward again when their eyes met. Those behind her were simply trying to avoid her wings and the swish of her tail.

Snow Drift, for her part, had chosen to not press the issue with her and was busy answering messages on her holo-brace. The unicorn appeared calm, showing off an impressive display of professional dispassion.

Whammy was sitting still on her shoulder, his antennae sagging lazily off to one side, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Last Shadow.

The merest mention of that name had her on edge, like somepony had walked over her grave. If the technician’s reaction was anything to go by, it was only a matter of time before somepony did something stupid. The nice fat bounty hovering over her head wouldn’t be helping matters either.

Letting out an impatient grumble, Flurry checked her holo-brace again for what felt like the seventh time since she got on this elevator. Nyx only had seven hours left before the Orion’s life support failed. This was going to have to be fast. There was no time for posturing, so she was going to have to swallow her pride if this was going to get done.

There was a gentle ping and the doors slid open, revealing a long corridor lined periodically with pressure doors. A thick blue line, similar in colour to Snow Drift’s uniform, ran along the wall at a pony head height. It was the only splash of colour in an otherwise dreary sea of grey.

Snow Drift stepped out first, along with the two guards in front of Flurry, who eagerly trotted forward with relieved sighs. Flurry followed slowly behind them, feeling a slight surge of relief to be out of the sardine can.

Snow Drift waited for everypony to exit the elevator before nodding to her and trotting down the corridor.

As they trotted further, Flurry began to see signs of life. Through the plexiglass of the doors, she could see blue-uniformed ponies working away—the little cogs that were keeping this vast enterprise running smoothly.

Their passage did not go unnoticed. As they made their way deeper into the command deck, Flurry could hear doors opening and nervous chatter behind her.

“That’s her! Flurry Heart!”

“Check out those wings! That horn!”

“Get back in here before she sees you!”

Tilting her head, Flurry could see a mixture of ponies peering out from open doors. Unicorns, earth ponies, even a few pegasi were chattering amongst themselves. Their reaction was something she was used to when travelling into the colonies, even before her recent career choices. Beyond Equus, seeing an alicorn up close was as rare as a houndrathi paying his tab at a bar. After the reaction to her arrival in the hangar, it was honestly a relief to be back to ‘normal’.

Flurry looked to Snow Drift, whose ears were flicking dangerously as the clamour behind them grew. Like a kettle coming to a boil, Flurry could see her temper rising, her mane bristling and the mare’s teeth clenching.

Eventually, she stopped and looked to Flurry. “My apologies, Princess, I’ll be just a moment.” She then turned around, trotting behind Flurry and her escort.

Taking a measured breath, Snow unleashed a tirade on the crowd.

“Are we having a convention out here or something?” The unicorn’s icy tones swept over the crowd like a gale from the frozen plains of Arazo. “Back to your stations, all of you!” the unicorn yelled, stomping her hoof. “Move it!”

The effect was instant, the chatter disappearing as ponies scurried back inside in the face of the fuming unicorn. It was like watching a matron at a boarding school catching foals outside after curfew.

Her subordinates now sufficiently quashed, the imperious unicorn turned around with an indignant snort.

“Nicely done,” Flurry commented with a grin.

Snow Drift flicked her tail and eyed her. “I see your effect isn’t contained to just pegasi.”

“Life’s hard when you’re a celebrity,” she replied with a modest shrug.

“Indeed.”

“Things must be tough here, working with the other tribes,” Flurry remarked as the unicorn joined her.

“This is what Harmony is about. Though it has taken a little time for us all to adjust to each other,” Snow admitted.

“Have you had much trouble?”

“Some have adjusted better than others,” Snow Drift said, a little irritation slipping back into her voice. She drew in a breath and let it out slowly, her body relaxing. “But we’re not here to talk about our staff. Come, the captain is waiting.”

They veered left, down past a large double door labelled ‘C&C’ to a relatively secluded spot around the corner. At the end of the corridor was an unassuming door, emblazoned with a plain placard reading ‘Captain Oakheart’.

Snow Drift trotted towards a control panel and pressed it with a hoof.

“Yes?” A deep voiced stallion replied over the intercom.

“Lieutenant-Commander Snow Drift with Princess Flurry Heart, sir,” Snow Drift announced.

“Very good, send her in.”

The door slid open. “After you, Princess,” she said, gesturing for her to enter.

Swallowing, Flurry stepped inside and trotted right into an argument.

“Captain Oakheart, why am I only now hearing you have the felon Flurry Heart on your station?!” an angry voice roared from the hologram of a furious earth pony stallion, his rage reverberating around the room like a thunderclap. Flurry had to admit, the office’s projectors were a quality setup; she could actually see the veins bulging out of the slate-grey stallion’s neck.

From the dark-brown uniform and the number of bars on his chest, Flurry guessed he was the commander of the Alliance flotilla outside.

Sitting behind a large desk of black plastic and polished glass was a middle-aged chocolate brown earth pony stallion, with a mane of even darker brown, cut to military length with aching precision. He was well-built, with a lantern jaw that was a hallmark of the colonial earth tribes. Flurry might have even called him handsome, were it not for his rather dour expression that seemed to have been chiselled onto his features.

The stallion cast a glance towards her, his dark olive-green eyes meeting hers and his brow furrowing.

“With respect, Captain Hayloft, Harmony station is a free port and it is not my responsibility to inform you each time we have a visitor,” Oakheart retorted calmly, as if he were addressing an angry guest at a hotel.

His hoof idly stroked along a long scar that ran from his brow down his right cheek. Flurry had seen enough wounds caused by Republic pinion blades to know the culprit. It was such a clean-cut, it was a miracle the stallion hadn’t lost an eye, or his life.

“She is one of the Alliance’s most-wanted criminals! I demand you hand her over to us at once!” Hayloft snorted, the hologram’s nostrils flaring in anger.

“I’m aware of who she is, Captain, but Princess Flurry Heart is assisting us in an internal matter, and she has been granted amnesty for the duration of her stay,” Oakheart stated.

“This is outrageous! Is Harmony station going to grant succor to any brigand and thief that passes through?!” Hayloft hissed through gritted teeth. “Captain, as an Alliance officer, you have a responsibility to—”

“This station is under the jurisdiction of the Harmony Initiative, and as a signatory of the charter, the Alliance is beholden to its jurisdiction while on station,” Oakheart retorted. “Now, I ask that you respect our judgement in the matter. If you have a problem with that, you can report it to your superiors.”

“You—” Hayloft began but was cut off before he could say any more. The hologram flickered off, leaving the room in silence.

Oakheart let out a sigh as he turned his attention toward Flurry. “You’ve been here for barely thirty minutes and already you’ve got ponies baying for your blood. You certainly know how to make an impression, Your Highness.”

“Please, just Flurry will do. We both know I’m no princess,” she replied. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

“Very well, Ms. Flurry, please sit,” he said, gesturing to the seat cushions laid into indents in the floor arrayed before his desk.

Behind him, on the wall, was a symbol made of coloured glass and metal. A trio of three hexagons tilted at an angle, one a lilac, the other yellow, and finally, a blue one below those. Flurry recalled spotting this symbol stitched on the uniforms of all the station’s workers she had seen.

What drew her attention was a zebra tribal mask below it, sitting on a plinth.

It was carved from mahogany, sculpted to appear as a fearsome spirit from their folklore, bedecked with a feather plume. The mask’s features had been smeared in sweeping hoof-painted strokes of green, red, and orange, creating vivid contrasts of colour. These were traditionally painted on by the mask’s owner when they were accepted into a clan.

Zebra masks weren’t something that were given away; it was a mark of their tribe, as much a part of them as their own flesh.

Which meant he earned it, she pondered.

Such things were not commonly shown to outsiders, as it still carried a certain stigma in the Alliance. For him to display it so openly meant he considered his heritage as being an important part of himself.

A closer inspection of the stallion revealed a zebra clan braid woven into a strand of his mane.

You are a curious one, aren’t you, captain? Flurry mused as she sat down.

Beside the plinth, a few books rested, stacked neatly in a row. They looked to be historical tomes, each bound in luxurious faux-leather covers.

Real books! Flurry hadn’t seen a physical book in what felt like forever.

The captain then looked to Snow Drift, who had been waiting patiently. “Thank you, Lieutenant-Commander,” he said, giving his subordinate a nod.

“I’ll be on the link if you need any assistance, sir,” Snow Drift said, pointedly.

“Thank you,” he replied, giving her a smile. “I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

“Yes, sir. The security detail will be outside to escort our guest back to her ship when you’re done.”

“Aww, and I was so enjoying your company,” Flurry teased.

“Indeed, it’s been an experience meeting you, Princess,” Snow Drift said, giving Oakheart a salute before trotting outside. The door closed and Flurry was left alone with the earth pony.

Silence hung in the air between them as the earth pony regarded her carefully. His eyes drifted to Whammy on her shoulder, an eyebrow raising questioningly as he gazed at the plushie. It made her feel like she was a filly again at the headmaster’s office or being confronted by her father, her every misdeed an open book to him.

“I hope you realise the trouble you’ve caused to us,” he began. “Between the Alliance and your little stunt with the gate, we’ve already got our hooves full with damage control.”

“Ponies’ lives are at stake and that’s what you’re concerned about?” Flurry snapped.

This was how it always was with these types—ticking boxes and keeping their petty little schedules running, all the while ponies died.

“I’m concerned about having a criminal barging her way onto my station, disrupting our operations,” he retorted, his voice hardening. “You’re lucky I haven’t tossed you in a cell yet.”

“I don’t care about your problems, Captain,” she snorted, folding her forelegs. “I only care about saving Nyx and her crew.”

“And did it cross your mind that all this trouble is impeding our rescue efforts?” he countered, his nostrils flaring. “We need the Guild’s cooperation to use the gate, not to mention the pegasi and their—”

He stopped himself as the anger in his voice began to rise. “What are you doing here, Ms. Flurry? What do you want?”

“To help rescue my cousin,” she huffed. “I’d have thought that was obvious by now.”

“The situation is well in hoof,” he responded, taking a measured breath. “Despite your interruption, a rescue team will be departing soon. We’re professionals, Ms. Flurry. Just let us do our job.”

“What kind of escort are you sending with them?” she asked, impatiently.

“Sufficient.”

Flurry’s eyes narrowed. Oh, that’s how you want to play it.

“Well, if what I saw coming in is anything to go by, you’re going to have to send a lot more,” she urged. “This isn’t a simple escort mission.”

Oakheart bristled, his right ear flicking. “Insulting my troops isn’t going to improve your bargaining position.”

Flurry frowned. “My what?”

“You want a reward for the information you acquired, am I right?” he said, a wrinkle of disgust passing over his features. “That is how your kind operates out here, yes?”

Flurry bristled at the accusation. “I didn’t come all this way for money, Captain. I came here because my cousin is running out of time and you ponies are my best shot at saving her.” She tapped on her holo brace and sent the files over to his console.”You want the data? Here. Consider it an act of good faith.”

Oakheart’s eyes flicked to the holo window on his console, quickly scanning the files.

“I’ll save you time,” she continued. “There’s an Elderberry class cruiser shadowing the Orion, filled to the brim with Syndicate mercs.”

At his raised eyebrow, she put on a grim smile. “I did a little digging before I got here.”

Oakheart tilted his head thoughtfully. “Are you familiar with them?”

“Familiar enough to know that if you don’t go there prepared for a fight, you’re going to lose a lot of lives,” she answered, shuddering at the memory of past encounters.

“Former employers?”

“Of course not,” she snapped. “I might be many things, but I am not a hired killer, Captain.”

“I see,” Oakheart nodded, his eyes considering the sensor data. “My apologies.”

Oakheart’s gaze settled on the silhouette of the cruiser.

“I need to revise my plans and make preparations,” he continued, letting out an irritated snort. “Merry Weather is going to love this.”

“Merry Weather?”

“He’s in command of the pegasus mercenary contingent on the station,” he replied, tapping away on the console.

“You have mercenaries working here? I thought this was meant to be a professional organization, not some typical Dragon’s Head cabal.”

It was Oak’s turn to grimace at the allegation. “Not by choice,” he muttered. “We were expecting a proper military unit from the Republic, not a bunch of sell-swords.”

Explains why those fighters looked so old, she thought to herself.

“The Republic has always been a bunch of cheapskates,” she said with a scowl. “I’m not surprised they stiffed you.”

Oakheart let out a grumble. “This is going to get expensive.”

“What about the Alliance?”” Flurry queried. “”You’ve got a ready-made fleet just sitting out there with enough firepower to take on half a dozen Elderberrys.”

“I already enquired before you arrived,”” he replied, a tiny tremor of anger creeping into his voice. “They said that delivering the station’s defence grid was their concern, not a rescue mission.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Typical Alliance, only willing to stick their noses in when it benefited them.

“That, and your arrival here, has put paid to any support we can expect from the Alliance,” he said pointedly. “Which means we’re on our own.”

Flurry straightened. “So, where do I fit in? I’ll help any way I can.”

“You don’t. You being here is only going to make things harder with the pegasi,” he said with a shake of his head. “It’s best you leave now before you cause any more problems for us.”

She let out a snort. “Are you kidding? You need my help.”

“No, we don’t,” he retorted flatly, making her gasp. “I’ve enough trouble commanding the pegasi without throwing a rogue alicorn into the mix. I won’t risk making a volatile situation worse.

“You know what they call you,” he continued. “I’m sure word of your arrival is spreading like wildfire as we speak.”

Flurry grimaced. If that technician’s reaction was anything to go by, there must be a full-blown panic by now. That damned name.

“It’s only a matter of time before somepony does something foolish, which is why it’s best that you leave,” he urged, before his expression softened. “I understand that this is difficult for you, but please, let us do our jobs.”

“I’m not leaving until this is done,” she said. “I can help you, Captain. I’ve been doing this sort of thing since before the Alliance existed. I know the region of space the Orion is marooned in like the back of my hoof. Admit it, having an alicorn at your back makes sense.”

He let out a sigh. “I don’t doubt your capabilities, Ms. Flurry, but you must realise that the lives of my ponies come first. You’re as much a danger to us as you are to the enemy.”

She stomped a hoof down. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve read your record. You have a chronic inability to follow orders, doing what you want without thinking of the consequences,” he began, his voice stern. “The war, your criminal activity, everything tells me that you’re a liability. Take that mess you caused at the gate—”

“Oh that was harmless,” she dismissed with a wave of a hoof.

“Nopony might’ve been hurt, but your actions have the Guild on our backs. This causes delays, negotiations, and an assortment of other things that distract us from the task at hoof,” he retorted. “A pony that only thinks of herself has no place helping us, and I won’t risk my ponies’ lives to your whims.”

“My whims!? You…”

Flurry glared at him, her jaw clenching. What did he know? He had no idea what things had been like after the war, the sacrifices she had to make. It was so easy just to sit there and judge when he wasn’t looking up from the gutter.

Yet, his words lingered in her mind, rattling around like a ball in a tin bucket. Flurry tilted her head and felt Whammy’s antenna brush against her cheek.

Her thoughts came back to Nyx. It would have been so easy to reach out to her at any time in the past six years. Instead, Flurry had used the Orion as an excuse to get involved again. A part of her had wanted to stick her nose in Initiative business and stir up trouble.

Damn it, she cursed to herself.

“Fine, you’re right, Captain,” Flurry conceded. “I wouldn’t trust me either. My track record for problem solving isn’t exactly stellar.” She let out a resigned sigh, scratching her mane. “All I can say is that I want everypony to get back here safely, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that happens. Give me any job, no matter how minor, and I’ll do it. Heck, I’ll mop the decks on your shuttles if you want, but you have to let me help. Please.”

Oakheart sat there in silence, hopefully seeing her sincerity, when a buzz on the intercom interrupted them.

“Yes?”

“Lieutenant Swan Song to see you, sir,” a stallion replied.

Oakheart winced. “It’s really not a good time. Can you tell her—”

The door slid open anyway, and in trotted a cream-coated pegasus mare with a rather ruffled peppermint mane.

“Hey, you can’t—” the guard protested.

Beside her, a rust-coated stallion with a slicked back fiery orange mane stood, his eyes fixed on Flurry. They wore no uniform, but what drew Flurry’s attention were their wings—all their primary feathers were jet-black.

Swan Song gasped.

There she was. Last Shadow in all her terrible glory, the monster that had destroyed her life.

The alicorn was a soft pink, like clouds at sunrise, her light violet mane with an arctic blue highlight cut short, almost like a stallion. The mare was well-built, taller than any normal pony, with long, slender legs and an enviable set of wings. What sent a shiver down Swan’s spine was that long, fluted horn jutting out of the mare’s head.

It felt wrong to see both wings and a horn on a pony at the same time. Even after meeting the Director, Swan still couldn’t get over that feeling of seeing it as something wrong… alien. The alicorn was wearing a battered blue-green bomber jacket, with a patch of a pony clutching a scythe stitched into the shoulder.

A confused frown crossed Swan’s brow as she saw some kind of snail plushie strapped to Last Shadow’s shoulder. It was perched there like some gargoyle, its bobble eyes wobbling between them like it was looking at its next meal.

Swan shook off her confusion and took a step forward. “Captain, what is she doing here! How dare you allow this murderer onto the station!” She jabbed a wing accusingly at Last Shadow, who simply gave a pfft in response.

“Lieutenant Swan Song, excellent timing,” Oakheart said, acting as if this was the most normal situation in the world.. “I’m glad you came, I’ve been trying to contact your Lord for the past hour but got no response.”

Swan glared at Last Shadow, who merely raised an eyebrow and looked towards Oakheart. What was going on here? Her confusion only fed into her growing anger. “What are you talking about? You have Last Shadow right here! She should be arrested!”

“She is not the issue here, Lieutenant. We have much more pressing matters to contend with,” the earth pony curtly replied.

“Of course she is the issue!” the pegasus yelled, flaring her wings out.

Swan tensed slightly as Last Shadow flicked her tail, her expression becoming an irritated scowl. The alicorn looked towards Oakheart as if expecting some kind of permission.

So, they are in cahoots with each other! Damn dirt ponies have no shame, Swan thought to herself.

“No, Lieutenant, she isn’t. We have a vessel in distress and possibly under attack by pirates. I need you to inform your Lord that the station requires the use of his carrier,” Oakheart stated simply. “Lives are at stake here, and we’re short on time.”

Swan Song felt Blitz’s foreleg rest against hers. In the corner of her eye, she caught his silent warning.

“Flurry Heart has provided us with potentially vital information. As such, she will be treated as a guest of Harmony,” Oakheart continued. “I ask that you put aside your differences until this crisis is over.”

Last Shadow just sat there, not even having the decency to look her in the eye. “Let it go, kid,” she muttered. “We don’t have time to waste on chasing ghosts. The war is—”

Not allowing the mare a chance to finish, Swan lunged forward and slammed her forehoof into the alicorn’s face. Last Shadow staggered backwards, reeling as Swan pressed her advantage to land several more blows.

Then, before Swan could continue her assault, Last Shadow flared her great wings, bringing a hoof down that narrowly missed crushing Swan’s head. The deck buckled under the blow, forcing her to quickly backpedal.

Such strength! The rumours about alicorns were true.

“Stand down!” Oakheart yelled, but it was too late.

“Stay out of this, captain,” Last Shadow said, spitting a globule of blood from her split lip onto the ground. “You want to die so badly, blackwing? For honour? For glory?”

“You know nothing of those things!” Swan Song yelled, charging forward once again. Blitz was at her side, circling to her left to try and catch Last Shadow in a pincer.

They barely made it three canters before the monster’s horn glowed in a golden light. The aura enveloped Swan’s neck, her breath knocked out of her as its grip tightened. Before she could react, she and Blitz were both wrenched into the air and slammed against the far wall.

A strangled gurgle rose from Swan’s throat as she desperately flailed at the ethereal grip that was squeezing the life out of her. Her mind raced as she tried to comprehend what was happening. The alicorn’s abilities were far beyond that of any ordinary horn-head.

The door hissed open and two armour-clad security ponies burst in. “Sir, we heard a commotion…”

The stallion’s words died in his mouth as he saw Last Shadow there, his shoulder cannon swinging up instinctively.

With a flick of her horn, the ponies’ weapons were ripped from their mounts and crushed into scrap. The stallion and his companion were then swept up in her golden glow, dangling helplessly in the air.

Swan let out a strangled groan, her hooves thrashing uselessly against the unbreakable grip around her neck. Blitz was in no better position, trying to beat his wings to escape his captor’s grasp to no avail. Last Shadow then stepped forward, her eyes fixing on Swan with an icy glare.

Despite her fear, Swan’s anger gave her resolve and she glared back defiantly at the alicorn.

“Go on, you monster!” she wheezed out. “Kill me! Show everypony exactly what you are, a killer!” she spat, feeling the grip tighten, the blackness creeping into the corners of her vision.. This was it—the end. She would finally be free.

“That’s enough!” Oakheart bellowed, rushing over to place himself between Last Shadow and Swan Song. “Everypony stand down! That includes you, Ms. Flurry. Put them down!”

Last Shadow looked at him darkly, a deadly glint in her eyes.

“You want to prove to me that you’re not a liability? That you can work with us? Then show me I can trust you,” he urged. “I know they attacked you, but spilling blood won’t solve anything. Put them down… please.”

The alicorn’s brow twitched in thought, her ears swivelling to the plushie on her shoulder as if it were whispering something to her. After a tense moment, she let out an angry groan. “Fine.”

Swan gasped in a coughing fit as the force holding her in place was released, causing her and Blitz to flop onto the floor. The two security ponies plopped to the ground as well.

“Lieutenant, given the extreme situation we find ourselves in, I’m going to overlook your actions here,” Oakheart declared. He glanced towards his security ponies. “That goes for everypony. This never happened, understood?”

The two guards nodded.

“Good, you are dismissed.”

“Umm, yes sir,” one of them replied before they scurried outside.

Swan rose to her hooves and looked to Blitz, who was struggling to his hooves. She felt a surge of relief that he was okay, that her stupidity hadn’t gotten him hurt. Yet her relief was tempered by the stark reality of their situation: Flurry Heart was still alive and the other tribes weren’t going to intervene. She lowered her head and stomped the deck with a hoof in frustration.

Oakheart turned to her and reached down, placing a hoof on her shoulder. “I know this is difficult for you, but—”

“You don’t know anything,” Swan snapped, knocking his hoof aside. “The blood of those that died at Mulberry Ridge cries out for justice! So long as she is here, the Aerie will not aid you. I’ll see to it myself!”

Swan looked to Last Shadow, who appeared almost regretful, a sadness in her eyes that only infuriated Swan further. “And you. Stay away from my aerie, understand? If you set hoof anywhere near them, I will kill you. Winds alive, I will find a way!”

She turned and stormed outside, with Blitz hot on her hooves, ignoring the looks of those in the corridor with her as she hurried towards the elevator.

“Swan, are you okay?” Blitz asked. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

Her ears flattened and she looked away. “If you ignore the smouldering remains of my pride, I’m fine.”

He let out a sigh and place a hoof on her shoulder. “Come on, Swanny. We’re alive, aren’t we? Facing off against the Last Shadow and walking away from it is worthy of song, don’t you think?”

Swan scowled. “She kicked our flanks, Blitz. She could have killed us any moment she wanted. We failed. At least if she’d killed us, it might have rallied the aerie to act, maybe even forcing Merry Weather to actually do something.” She scuffed the floor with a hoof. “Now we’ve got nothing. I’ve lost my only chance to make that monster pay for what she’s done.”

Her eyes closed, the pain in her heart pressing against her chest like it would explode at any moment. Then, a wing draped across her back and she looked to see Blitz smiling at her.

“Hey, this isn’t the Swan I know. You never give up,” he said with a grin. “We’re alive and that means we’re still in the game. What’s more, Last Shadow hasn’t left yet, which means we still may have a shot at her.”

“But Merry…”

The thought of returning back to Merry Weather with their tails between their legs twisted her gut in knots. She could imagine his reaction: the anger, the gloating, the everything.

“Merry needs us, Swan. You’re the most experienced soldier he has, and if we’re going off to fight pirates, he’ll need you to lead the troops,” he said, giving her a gentle squeeze. “He’ll rub it in your face, sure, but he’ll still look to you to get things done. Just like he always has.”

She allowed herself a smile. “Since when did you become so wise and all-knowing?”

He chuckled and gave her a wink. “I’m not just a pretty face, you know.” With that, he trotted forward, spinning around and extending a hoof. “Shall we face the music together, Lieutenant?”

Despite everything rattling around in her head, and all of her emotions threatening to tear her apart from the inside, she actually felt a small spark of hope flicker from within.

Chapter 6 - An Exercise in Trust

“Well, that could have gone better,” Oakheart said, letting out a heavy sigh. “Are you okay?”

Flurry cricked her neck and wiped away a dribble of blood from her lip with a fetlock. “Oh, this is nothing. It’ll take more than that little love tap to hurt me.”

He nodded. “I was hoping we’d have more time before something like this happened.”

“There are always fools willing to die for their Emperor,” Flurry muttered, a hard edge slipping into her voice. “The pegasi are a proud tribe; they don’t like being reminded of their past failings.”

“I must admit, I didn’t think you’d back down,” he said. “I certainly appreciate your…” He looked down to the crumpled weapons on the floor. “Restraint."

"I'm not what you think I am, captain," she replied softly.

“What is this Mulberry Ridge she was talking about?” he asked. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“I expect you wouldn’t,” Flurry said. “You fleet types never did pay much attention to us ground pounders.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I must admit, I never quite believed it when your file said that you had enlisted in the Alliance infantry.”

“Best place I could do the most good,” she said. “I didn’t really fit in with how the Alliance fleet liked to do things.”

He gave a wry smile. “I can imagine. So you were there at Mulberry?”

Flurry felt a shudder pass through her as memories resurfaced. Bad memories. “Yeah, I was there.”

“What happened?”

“What do you think happened?” she snapped, her wings bristling as her temper flared. “We fought and a lot of good ponies died on both sides, just another pointless bloodbath amongst thousands. If you’re so interested in it, punch it up on your computer.”

Flurry let out an angry snort, though as quickly as it had come, a realization tempered her feelings. “I’m sorry. I forgot you fought in the war as well. Being an alicorn messes with your perception of time.”

He smiled softly. “I understand, I think.”

A reluctant sigh escaped from her muzzle as she recalled the event. “Our company was assigned to protect the ridgeline overlooking the local spaceport. The ridge was the lynchpin in the defense of Rosefall city and the Republic knew it. I was running air cover and medevac for the wounded at the time. Things were bleak, but we were holding our own.”

Flurry grimaced as the memories came flooding back. “And then the pegasi sent their infantry in.

“They just kept coming at us in waves, hundreds at a time, and we mowed them down over and over again. When the ammunition ran out, we fought them hoof to hoof with whatever we could find.” She swallowed, shaking her head. “By the end, over two thousand ponies were dead and my company had only twenty still standing.”

“Bloody ground,” Oakheart remarked solemnly.

“It’s where I picked up that damn nickname,” she muttered.

“Last Shadow?”

Flurry nodded, a sad smile playing on her lips. “It’s funny, for a while I kept the name, thought it was cool. I figured if they were afraid of me, they would stop trying to fight me.”

“And did it work?” Oakheart asked.

“No,” she said sadly. “Just painted a big target on my head. The more that came looking for glory, the more I had to kill.” She closed her eyes. “I felt like I was losing a part of myself to that name with every life I was forced to take.”

In her mind, she could see the mangled bodies of pegasi piled high beneath her blood-soaked hooves. She could still feel the pull of battle, the exhilarating feeling that no drink or drug could replicate.

Flurry shuddered, trying to shake off the sensation. “Wasn’t helped by the Alliance press proclaiming it all over the networks. I’m surprised you never heard of it.”

“My deployments meant I rarely had the time to catch much news, and even then, I barely paid much attention to them,” Oakheart replied, his gaze seeming distant. “We had our own battles to fight.”

“So, what now?” she asked, eager to change the subject.

“This could complicate things for us,” he pondered. “We’ll need their fighters if we’re going to pull this off, and the lieutenant made it abundantly clear that we’ll get no help from her. This will damage our chances.”

“Just what are blackwings doing on Harmony anyway? You know what they are, right?” she asked, feeling her anger return.

“Of course,” Oakheart snapped. “Believe me, Ms. Flurry, relying on slaves is not what Harmony stands for. The Director was furious when they arrived here from the Republic. Instead of trained military pilots, we received green youngsters serving a bunch of mercenaries.”

“Are you doing anything about it?”

“The Director is on Caelum right now, trying to get the situation straightened out,” he assured, though he seemed pensive. “Unfortunately, until it’s sorted, this is what we have to work with.”

“So let’s get down there and get things moving. Nyx doesn’t have time for any of this,” Flurry urged, trotting towards the door.

“Wait,” he called, trotting quickly to catch her. “The last thing we need is you going down there and stirring up more trouble.”

Her wings bristled. “Just take me to this Merry Weather, and I’ll have a word with him.”

Maybe break a few bones.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he said, standing between Flurry and the door. “This is Harmony business, so let me handle the negotiations with Merry Weather.”

“Negotiations,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Yes, negotiations,” Oakheart repeated. “The situation is delicate, and we do not need you barging in there and making demands.”

Flurry was surprised when she felt Oakheart's hoof on her shoulder.

“I know this is frustrating, believe me, but we have to be patient,” he said. “A confrontation is only going to slow things further, and delays are the last thing Captain Nyx needs right now.”

Whammy’s head bobbed to the side, making Flurry give him a narrow-eyed look.

Great, now they’re ganging up on me, she thought irritably.

“Okay, fine,” she said with a huff. “But this doesn’t help us with Swan Song.”

“I’m sure Merry Weather can find a replacement for her,” Oak suggested.”The other squadron leaders seem capable in her stead.”

“It’s not that simple,” she said with a shake of her head. “She’s the highest-ranking pilot, right?”

Oakheart nodded.

“That means she’s likely the head of their aerie as well,” Flurry surmised. “If we force her replacement, her fellow pilots will close ranks and you can forget them taking orders from you.”

Oakheart eyed her carefully. “You have a suggestion?”

“You deal with Merry Weather, and I’ll deal with Swan Song,” she said. “This is between me and her. If I do this alone, then it won’t reflect badly on you.”

Oakheart gave her a hard frown.

“Just to talk, I promise,” she assured. “Pegasus pride and duty aren’t enough to explain that kind of suicidal behavior, so I’ll need to get to the bottom of it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Flurry looked to him with a sad smile. “Just a feeling.”

Oakheart gave her a quizzical look. “You continue to be full of surprises, Ms. Flurry.”

“I know pegasi, captain,” she said with a confident smile, fluffing her wings in emphasis. “They’re as much a part of my heritage as your tribe is. That, and I spent a few centuries in the Imperial Court of the Republic. I know how they think."

The earth pony pondered for a moment before nodding. “Good, we have a plan. I’ll contact Merry and get things moving. Before that, there is something we need to take care of.”

Oakheart opened the door and led her outside, where the two security ponies were regarding her anxiously.

“Where are we going?” Flurry asked as they made haste towards the elevators.

“To Security. In light of the information you provided, we need to discuss the situation with our security chief,” he replied.

“Great, a police station—just where I’d like to be right now,” she huffed.

“We won’t be there long,” he assured. “If we’re beefing up the escort for the Orion, I’d like some of our MAWS units to come along with us. Just in case she has been boarded and we need to clear unwanted guests.”

The doors to the elevator hissed open, and they quickly stepped inside.

“Good to hear,” she agreed as the elevator shuddered into motion. “How good are they? Syndicate mercs are no pushovers, you know.”

“We have some of the most well-trained personnel anywhere,” Oakheart replied.

“No offense, but they haven’t exactly impressed me so far,” Flurry grumbled.

“In their defence, alicorns aren’t exactly covered in basic training,” he said, eyeing her pointedly.

Flurry let out an awkward cough and looked away. She hadn’t exactly planned on having that confrontation. It had just kinda happened.

The whole situation was so frustrating. She just wanted to leave and find her cousin, and not be stuck here trying to curry favour. The scenario kept spinning about in her head, only to come crashing to the same irritating conclusion each time: she needed these ponies.

She looked back to Oakheart, who was tapping something on his holo-brace. She tried to gauge what was going on in his head. Deep down, that niggling distrust just wouldn’t go away. At any moment, he could turn on her and have the whole station come down on her head. Also, there was the question of what was to happen if they were successful. Just how long would their little truce last?

“I’ve been trying to contact Merry for the past few hours. Your arrival should have stirred him from that hovel he likes to wallow in,” Oakheart grumbled.

A ping interrupted his lament as the elevator doors slid open, revealing a surprisingly roomy foyer.

Flurry had seen her fair share of police stations over the years, and she found herself pleasantly surprised. Most colonial stations felt more like a military stockade, as opposed to a civic center that ponies would actually want to go to. Small trees lined the waiting area and several fountains filled the room with the gentle tinkle of running water. Several rows of chairs lined the foyer, all leading up to a wide desk where several receptionist golems stood, patiently waiting for the public. Above the main desk, hovered a glowing holographic sign, reading ‘Harmony Security’ along with the symbol she’d seen in Oakheart’s office.

Oak and Flurry quickly passed by the main desk and headed into the atrium beyond. It was far larger than she had been expecting, divided into several floors linked by elevator tubes. The thoroughfare was cluttered with equipment pallets surrounded by work ponies working around open floor panels.

The light chatter of a dozen different accents danced around the room. Flurry could make out a lot of them, but even she had trouble discerning them all. Thankfully, their passage had gone by mostly unnoticed, with only a few stopping to gawp at her as she passed.

Oakheart quickly led her out of the atrium and headed towards the central booking and processing area. Like the atrium, the corridors and interview rooms were mostly unfinished and still under construction. They eventually arrived at a large desk, mostly draped in plastic wrap, with a bored-looking unicorn stallion sitting behind it.

A pair of gruff earth ponies sat on benches nearby, their forelegs locked in hoofcuffs while they were being watched by an earth pony mare and pegasus stallion. The stallion had two rusks for a cutiemark, a rare sight amongst the blank flanks of the colonial ponies.

The pair straightened as Oak and Flurry approached, the mare’s eyes widening while the stallion had paled considerably.

“Check it out, Rusk, that’s Flurry Heart!” the mare gestured to her colleague.

“Not now, Ivy,” the pegasus replied, giving a stiff salute to Oakheart as they approached. “Sir, umm ma’am.”

“Detective Rusk,” Oakheart acknowledged, returning the salute. “Is the chief in his office?”

“Yes, sir, he’s been bouncing off the walls since…” the pegasus cringed, his eyes darting to Flurry. “Since our guest arrived.”

His companion stifled a chuckle, earning a glare from the pegasus.

“I’d best get to him before he hurts himself. Thank you, detective,” Oakheart said, giving him a salute before they continued on their way.

As they moved away, the mare burst into laughter. “You should have seen your face!”

“Oh shut up.”

Flurry chuckled to herself and looked to Oakheart. “You have many ponies from Equus here?”

“We’ve ponies from everywhere, though we’re thankful to have so many volunteers from Equus in the crew,” he replied.

Her brow furrowed. “The ponies of Equus have always been generous. Too bad the same can’t be said about their leaders.”

Oakheart wisely chose to stay silent and led her into the offices beyond. There were rows of desks, some with ponies busy tapping away at their terminals, though most were empty. Flurry couldn’t help but feel a hint of nostalgia at the smell of days-old coffee and doughnuts.

The good old days.

They passed by the rows, barely getting any acknowledgment from the busy ponies as they headed towards a closed-off area at the back of the room. The door was labeled ‘Chief Flintlock’ making Flurry pause.

“It couldn’t be…” she mused.

Oakheart opened the door, revealing a darkened room lined with security monitors, showing various locations around the station. Flurry’s eyes had to adjust to the lower light in the room before she could make out the figure sitting behind a desk.

“The moment I heard you arrived, I had a feeling you’d end up at my door,” a familiar voice called.

Flurry’s eyes widened as she stepped inside. “Flinty, is that you?”

“The one and only.”

Standing up from his desk was an older thestral in his late forties, his slate-grey coat and dark-grey mane now dulled with age and silvery hairs. He wore the same blue uniform as everypony else, only marked with a green stripe on his shoulders.

As he eyed her, a wide grin formed, revealing a set of vicious fangs that were a hallmark of his secretive tribe.

His face was weather-beaten and scarred in places, a lingering mark of his eventful life. One of his long ears had a nick cut out of it, and his leathery wings had a few holes in their membranes.

Even so, the warm amber of his eyes sparkled with the fire she always admired, those slitted pupils now wide with happiness.

Flurry didn’t say anything, she simply closed the distance and pulled the old bat pony into a bone-crunching hug.

“It’s good to see you’re still a master at causin’ trouble, you old firecracker,” he said with a laugh.

“Who are you calling old? You wrinkly coot,” Flurry said, finally releasing him from her hug.

Questions flooded her mind as she looked upon her friend—so many, she wasn’t sure where to start.

“And there’s Whammy,” Flint grinned, bopping the plushies eyes. “Wouldn’t be the same without him. Still trying to keep her out of trouble, I see?”

“Trying and failing,” Flurry chuckled. “He’s happy to see you too.”

The middle-aged thestral let out a laugh but was interrupted by Oakheart clearing his throat. He turned and straightened, giving the earth pony a salute. “Sorry, captain,” he said, giving an awkward cough. “Caught up in the moment.”

“Quite all right, Chief,” Oakheart said with a bemused smile. “Today has been a day for surprises. So how do you two know each other?”

“Oh, the princess and I go way back,” Flintlock said with an easy smile. “We served together during the war, Major Cornfield’s Reapers. Pulled my flank out of a lot of rough spots.”

Flurry let out a chuckle. “Only because you were such a hothead.”

“Just followin’ your lead, princess.”

“Well, this makes things easier,” Oakheart said. “Speaking of which, I’ve got a job for you, Chief.”

“I’ve been hearing rumours of some big op coming up,” Flint commented, his ears swivelling forward. “I assume it has got something to do with galaxy’s-most-wanted over here?”

“Somewhat. I need you to select twenty of your best, full weapons loadout. They’ll need to be EVA certified and prepped for zero-g combat. We have a possible assault and hostage rescue on our hooves,” Oakheart replied.

“Who are we going up against?”

“Syndicate, I think,” Flurry added quickly, earning an annoyed glance from Oak.

The grizzled thestral rubbed his chin, his frown creasing his brow. “That means changelings or mercs for sure. Numbers?”

“If they match the troop complement of an Elderberry class, a hundred, possibly one-fifty,” Oak stated. “Will that be a problem, Chief?”

Flintlock sat on his haunches. “My boys can handle mercs, but we have a problem. Our shuttles are currently being shipped over in pieces from the Hyperion.”

Flurry could see the gears turning in the old thestral’s head before he spoke. “You’re still flying the Dream, right?”

“Of course,” she replied.

“Great! Problem solved. Feel like jumping some ground pounders across space?” Flint suggested.

“I think I can manage that,” Flurry said with a grin.

Oakheart frowned and slowly rubbed his temples, an exasperated grumble dying in his throat.

“Come on, captain,” she insisted. “My ship is right here. I know you’ve been trying to figure out what to do with me. This is it.”

“I’ve got ponies with experience of operating from the Dream. And she’s a damn sight better than anything we’ll get from the Alliance,” Flint added.

Oakheart let out a resigned sigh, like a father being persuaded by his children to go to a theme park. “Okay, fine.”

“Great! Just like old times,” Flurry grinned, fluffing her wings.

“On one condition,” Oakheart said, bringing her enthusiasm crashing to a halt.

“Call it the price of admission,” he said, allowing her to exit the door before him.

This doesn’t sound good at all.

“No,” Flurry said flatly, her voice echoing in the vast empty space of the hangar.

“If you want to come on this mission, then you’re going to have to,” Oakheart replied coolly.

Behind him, a crew of technicians and golems waited anxiously like a flock of vultures looking for their next meal. They all shied away and tried to hide behind Oak as Flurry’s angry gaze fell upon them.

“We’re wasting enough time already, and you want to dismantle my ship!” she yelled before taking a calming breath. She then rubbed her temples, stifling the mother of all tirades. “Look, I think I’ve been extremely patient with the way you do things here. But this is too much.”

“Just a quick service,” Oakheart assured. “While we’re waiting for Merry Weather to respond, we might as well make the best use of our time. Merry Weather is deliberately dragging his hooves to make us act rashly, so any mistake will cost us in the long run. Once we have his cooperation, we will have to move fast, and I don’t want your ship impeding that.”

“The Dream is ready to go whenever you are.”

“I don’t like unknowns,” he said, holding her gaze. “And you and your ship are a cornucopia of unknowns to me. If you’re going to come with us, I want to be sure your ship isn’t going to be a liability.”

“The Dream is perfectly fine, peak efficiency,” she huffed. “It doesn’t need your ponies putting their hoofmarks all over it.”

“You’ll forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical,” he retorted.

His eyes drifted to the long line of frayed tether cable, trailing along the deck and up to the broken remains of the Dream’s harpoon launcher.

Flurry scowled, letting out an unladylike grumble, not helped by Whammy’s mirth over the situation. The plushie’s googly eyes hadn’t stopped moving since they got here.

“This isn’t funny, Whammy,” she hissed.

Oakheart’s eyebrow raised as he looked to the plushie before shaking his confusion off.

“I’m not asking for this out of spite, Ms. Flurry,” he said. “My crew’s lives are important to me. If I’m sending them into combat, I want to give them the best I can offer. Their safety is paramount, as is yours.”

His voice carried an earnestness that only served to irritate Flurry further, mostly because she knew that he was right. If their roles had been reversed, she wouldn’t want a ship that she couldn’t rely on, flying with her into a combat situation. That had bitten her in the flank too many times in the past, and she wasn’t inclined for a repeat.

“Alright, fine,” she conceded with a sigh. “You win. Just give her a buff and polish would ya?”

Ambrosia is going to kill me. The thought of the changeling’s reaction made her cringe.

“Great. Now if you would, please?” he said, gesturing to the thaumatic field currently enveloping the Fleeting Dream. “My crew chief would appreciate being able to work without being electrocuted.”

Flurry gave him a dirty look before turning to her holo-brace. “Retract defensive measures.”

“Affirmative, defensive measures have ceased,” came the reply, and the field enshrouding the Dream fizzled away, leaving the ship naked and vulnerable.

“Alright, let’s get a look at this baby!” an older, grizzled pegasus yelled from behind her, striding purposefully forward towards the ship. His boldness seemed to encourage the other service ponies, and several rushed forward to join their comrade.

Flurry couldn’t help but feel an anxiety grip her heart as the crew chief fluttered onto the Dream’s starboard wing. These were strangers, after all, and she didn’t like the idea of them picking over her baby’s hull, looking for faults. She resisted the urge to hover over the work ponies and manage them herself.

“Can you tell them to be careful with her,” Flurry asked, feeling heat rush to her cheeks at the quietness in her voice.

Oakheart gave her an amused smile. “I wouldn’t worry, Chief Ratchet is one of the best. He’ll treat your ship with the utmost care.”

A loud clang from above one of the Dream’s wings made Flurry wince, and she gave a sheepish pegasus technician a death glare.

Twenty minutes later, Flurry peered anxiously towards Oakheart and Chief Ratchet as the pegasus delivered his report. They were standing close to one of the Dream’s landing legs, far enough away that she couldn’t hear them. She felt like a parent, waiting for the doctor to be finished talking about her foal.

Oakheart’s expression was a deep frown, which only added to her anxiety. She wasn’t entirely sure why she was anxious at all, Oakheart’s concerns, while valid, did not really affect her participation. She could leave any time she wanted, simply go to Nyx and fight it out with her. The fact was, she had made a promise—a commitment to help these ponies get to the Orion.

Flurry shook her head at the thought. The idea of relying on other ponies once again felt strange to her. In her mind, she kept going over possible tricks or traps they might be planning against her. Even now, she was imagining Ratchet’s ponies sabotaging her ship or planting something to screw her over.

She shuddered and tried to dismiss these feelings. If they were going into combat together, she was going to have to trust these ponies implicitly. They would be relying on her as much as she was on them.

Flurry hadn’t had this feeling since the war.

Within minutes of Oakheart’s little gang of vultures descending upon the Dream, Flintlock arrived, approaching the quite-anxious Flurry. She briefly wondered if Oak had deliberately sent him here to keep her from interfering with the maintenance effort.

“Don’t worry, princess,” Flintlock said, giving her a pat on her shoulder. “The captain is a good stallion; he won’t let you down.”

Flurry gave an exaggerated shrug, putting on a flippant tone. “Pffft, why would I care about what he thinks? He's got a stick so far up his ass, I'm surprised he doesn't need someone to work it so he can speak.”

Flint chuckled. “Deny it all you want, but he’s impressed you, I can tell.”

She felt a little heat creep into her cheeks. “He’s certainly different from the other officers I’ve run into lately.”

“You’ll find he’s not your average Alliance officer—that stick has got some play in it,” Flintlock said before his expression hardened. “Speaking of, what happened to you? Last I heard, you punched out an admiral and went AWOL.”

Her ears flattened as she looked away from him. “Bombing civilians in their homes didn’t exactly sit well with me.”

“Right,” he said slowly. “So that made you decide to become the galaxy’s most-wanted?”

“It helped a bit in that regard, yeah,” she replied with a sly smile, which faded as she noticed his sad expression. She looked away again, shaking her head. “I couldn’t put my faith in the Alliance anymore, or anypony for that matter. Everything was just so broken.”

He stayed quiet, a soft frown on his face that made her feel uncomfortable.

“So, what about you? How did you end up here?” she asked, eager to change the subject.

Flint took the hint and let out a sigh. “Me? I’ve always been a cop, even before the war. It’s all I know. This place seemed like a fresh start, away from all the crap going on in the core worlds.”

He straightened. “Besides, I like the idea of this place. Ponies working together for something greater—it’s a nice dream.”

“You always were a romantic,” she chuckled. “Speaking of, are you still together with Peanut?”

He gave a proud smile. “Still going strong, we had our fifth foal a year ago.”

“Five now!?” she exclaimed with a grin. “I’m happy for you, my friend.”

“Thanks, if you hang around long enough, maybe I can introduce you.”

“I’d like that.”

He smiled at her before his attention was drawn away. “Ah, here come our reinforcements.”

Flurry turned to a troop of burly earth ponies and zebra's arriving on a cargo elevator. They were standing around a large trolley loaded with body armour, weapons, and other gear. It was an odd mixture of old hardened veterans, with stares that could cut through steel, and young recruits that followed behind them like a trail of ducklings. She frowned as she saw a kirin mare amongst them, a rare sight out here.

“Princess, I’d like to introduce you to Harmony’s Magic and Weapons Squad,” Flint said, gesturing to the gathered ponies.

“Is that who I think it is?” the kirin asked, but was soon hushed by the others.

They all gathered in a line before the thestral, stomping a hoof to attention as they did so.

“Alright, fillies and colts, listen up! I know some of you are itching for some excitement, and it looks like you got your wish!” Flintlock announced. “We have a potential pirate invasion on our hooves, so I want to see your game faces for this one.”

There were uncertain murmurs from the gathered squad.

“Finally, some action!” the kirin exclaimed with a hoof pump.

“Shh,” somepony said.

“This might involve some EVA work, which is why Princess Flurry Heart has generously offered her ship to haul your sorry flanks there and back,” Flint said.

“Ummm, sir, aren’t we supposed to be arresting her?” came a timid voice from one of the younger recruits.

“The princess is a guest of Harmony for this operation, so I want you all to be on your best behaviour while you’re aboard her ship,” he said. “I’m looking at you, Fire Hawk.”

“What did I do?!” the kirin exclaimed.

“What didn’t you do,” an earth pony mare chided, earning chuckles from the others.

“All right, that’s enough,” Flint ordered. “Let’s get this equipment stowed, no lollygagging!”

“Or I’ll set Whammy on you,” Flurry warned, with a vicious grin. “He loves fresh pony.”

They all swallowed nervously, the younger marines paling visibly as they came to their own conclusions on what ‘Whammy’ was.

Flintlock cast a glance to her, concealing his obvious mirth before looking to his squads. “Let’s get to work! Now, princess, would you do the honours?”

Flurry grinned and tapped on her holo-brace.

With a slight groan, the loading ramp of the Dream slid open. At that moment, she was glad Whammy had gotten her to move those cargo crates somewhere out of sight. That would have been super awkward.

“Alright, I want this gear prepped within the hour,” Flintlock barked. “You’ll be getting your briefing in transit, understood?”

“Yes sir!” they roared in response, their shout echoing through the hangar bay.

“Good, now get to it!”

“Oh, and try to keep to the cargo bay. Whammy gets cranky if strangers go wandering around,” Flurry warned, managing to keep a straight face as she did so. “I wouldn’t want any of you disappearing on your first trip aboard the Dream.”

Even the older ponies gave an earnest nod at the warning, which only added to her high spirits. It brought her a feeling of nostalgia as she watched them work—the banter that went between them, good-natured insults, and Flintlock at the heart of it all.

“You enjoyed that,” Flintlock said, once he was out of earshot of his squad.

“Give a girl her pleasures,” Flurry said with a wink.

They both caught Oakheart coming towards them and straightened. He wore a heavy frown on his face as he approached, his tail flicking slightly as he walked. Flurry was beginning to wonder if that frown was a permanent feature or simply a reaction to her presence. Either way, it brought a small smile to her face.

“Are we good?” she asked.

“So it would seem. Despite appearances, your ship is in adequate condition for our needs,” he said.

Adequate? I’m going to have words with that mechanic, she silently fumed.

“I’ve ordered Chief Ratchet to do as much as he can in the time we have to fix any issues he’s found,” he continued. “A bit of a rush job, but we’re short on time.”

“So, are there any more conditions I need to be aware of?” she asked warily.

“None,” Oakheart said flatly. “Making sure your ship was ready for the mission was the priority.”

Flurry blinked, feeling a little out of sorts by his answer. She had been expecting some more strings attached to this ‘help’ but none were forthcoming. “Thanks, I guess, but why the sour face? I thought you’d be happy things were going to plan.”

“Lord Merry Weather has finally deigned to grant me an audience,” he said, his expression souring further. “And Lieutenant Swan Song is with him.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” she said. “They’re already together, so there’s no point in us splitting up.”

“I’d still prefer you wait here until I’ve given my proposal to Merry Weather,” he replied firmly. “Remember, you didn’t want to rock the boat, making it look like we’re working together.”

Flurry let out an indignant snort. “They already know I’m here, captain. If they see I’m not out to spill blood, it might calm things down.”

“Or make things worse.”

“It’s a little late for that, captain. If I can get a chance to talk to Swan in private, I might be able to get to the root of her attitude and get the mission back on track. You need to trust me,” she said, giving him a pointed look.

He let out a heavy sigh. “I see your point. But you follow my lead in there. You’re just an observer.”

“Then lead the way, captain,” she said with a grin.

“I’ll go and get the riot gear,” Flintlock remarked with a grimace.

Oakheart gave him a hard look. “Don’t joke about that.”

“Who said I was joking?”

The goblet of wine slammed into Swan Song’s head before skidding across the floor of Merry Weather’s court.

She had just finished recounting her encounter with Flurry Heart, and Merry Weather had sat there like a kettle slowly building up steam.

His reaction was predictable.

“Incompetents!” the stallion roared, his wings flaring as he rose up to stand on his cloud. The mares at his hooves shrank in fear as the stallion raged.

Swan Song knelt low, her wings outstretched, staring at the floor and trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her skull. The cherry-scented wine trickled down her mane and face, blurring her vision and burning in her eyes.

“You! You come skulking back here with your tails between your legs?!” Merry Weather snorted. “All that bravado that you’d take her or die trying, and you ended up being just as cowardly as the rest of your filthy, traitorous family!”

Swan clenched her teeth and fought back the anger building in her gut.

“My lord,” Blitz said from beside her. “There was nothing the lieutenant could have done. Last Shadow was just too strong. She subdued us both as well as the security detail guarding her before they could even get a shot off.”

Swan cringed at the memory of it, shame twisting like a tendril inside her. That abomination in the guise of a pony, the light rippling from that monstrous horn on her head, that fierce anger burning in those opal eyes. She could have killed them all in an instant if she had wanted to.

Her thoughts had raged like a storm-tossed sea as they limped back to report their encounter. Even now, with Merry Weather’s wrath hovering over her, the question lingered in her mind.

Why? When you killed so many others. Why let me live?

“Be silent, welp,” Merry snorted before sending a silent order to Blitz’s enchantment, triggering a jolt of electricity that erupted from his wings. Blitz cried out, writhing in agony for a few seconds before Merry relented.

Blitz lay crumpled on the ground, the stench of ozone wafting up from his twitching body. He then struggled to his hooves and knelt before their tormentor once more.

“Please, my lord,” Swan begged, raising her head to look Merry in the eye. “We had no choice. Flurry Heart was a guest of Harmony. I… I tried to convince them, but they wouldn’t listen to me. I was only thinking—”

Merry Weather raised a hoof to silence her.

“Tell me something, my dear,” Merry Weather began, his eyes like a hawk that had just spotted a rabbit. “Have I not been lenient with you? Did I not raise you above the filth I found you in? Brought you above your station as one of my most trusted lieutenants?”

Her ears flattened and she looked away. “Yes, my lord.”

“Did I not love you?”

You don’t love anypony but yourself, she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. You don’t even know what love is!

“Yes, my lord,” she said simply.

He hopped down from his cloud and moved swiftly to her, slapping a hoof across her face in one swift motion. She fell to the floor and could only look up at him as he loomed over her.

“Then why do you seek to shame me?! You are a pegasus of the Republic, my property! You chose the dirt ponies and horn heads over your vows to the Emperor!” he hissed.

“No! I—”

She felt her cheek swelling, and her eyes swam with tears as she tried to regain her posture. Then, a hoof savagely slammed into her gut, knocking the wind out of her and sending her sprawling onto the deck. As she struggled to her hooves, Merry pressed down on her back, grinding the edge of his hoof into the tender flesh between her wings.

Blitz made a move to stop him, but she met his gaze and she mouthed a ‘no’ through clenched teeth. His eyes pleaded silently at her, his ears alert and his weary body tensing to leap to her defence.

No. This was her mistake and her punishment. She wouldn’t let him get himself hurt on her behalf.

Swan held his gaze until he relented, his body sinking to the ground with a desperate snort.

She managed to give him a small nod of thanks.

“You blackwings are all the same. You won’t even die when you’re supposed to,” Merry continued, pressing his hoof down before trotting back to his cloud. He wiped his hoof on the robes of one of his attendants before letting out a heavy sigh. “And now I have that dirt pony coming here to foul this place with his filthy peasant stench.”

He paced from side to side for a moment, his wings fluttering as he pondered.

Then, to her surprise, Merry Weather began to laugh. “Still, you did bring me a particularly delicious piece of information. The Orion, eh?” His voice drifted off for a moment before he smiled. “Perhaps I can salvage something from this debacle after all.”

Curse her heart for allowing a tiny sliver of hope to enter her mind. Perhaps she and Blitz could still get out of this somehow.

“But that still leaves the question of your failure, my dear,” he said, looking to her. “This simply cannot go unpunished. What kind of message would it send to the others of my aerie?”

Her ears flattened as that tiny spark of hope was snuffed out. “I will accept any punishment you deem necessary, my lord. All I ask is that you spare my wingmate, as he was only obeying my orders.”

Merry smiled softly. “In honour of your service, I will grant your request, my dear.” He then turned to Blitz. “You may go.”

“May I remain here and wait for my flight leader, my lord?” Blitz asked.

A sinister glint flashed in Merry’s eye and his smile widened. “You may, as it is not a proper punishment without an audience. The same goes for the rest of you blackwing filth.”

There were a few chuckles from his cronies, many of whom were gathering to watch the spectacle like vultures over a carcass.

He cleared his throat. “Lieutenant Swan Song, for the crime of cowardice in the face of the enemy, I hereby strip you of your rank and the privileges bestowed upon you. Your flight status has been revoked, you will no longer hold any position within the aerie, nor will they associate with you. Your shame will add to that of your traitorous line.”

Swan Song’s eyes widened in horror, and she staggered to her hooves. She felt like somepony had just torn her wings off.

There were audible gasps from a few of Merry’s servants, though these were quickly silenced.

Merry smiled, looking to Blitz. “Consider this a promotion.”

In a daze, Swan staggered forward towards Merry. “Please, my lord. I can still fight. Don’t… don’t take my aerie from me.”

She knew it was a mistake. Appealing to this pony’s better nature was impossible.

Merry’s eyes narrowed. “A soldier who cannot die when commanded to is useless to me. Useless things get replaced.”

He stepped forward, tilting her head with the tip of an extended wing. “And your aerie? They are mine to do with as I please.” He let out a sad sigh. “It seems I have indulged you too much. I fear a lesson is required, so I impress on you my disappointment.”

He pulled his wing away, and with the slightest movement, activated the enchantment in her wings.

Pain blossomed from every muscle as electricity pulsed through her body. She screamed in agony, falling to the floor and writhing in pain while everypony watched.

Merry had a terrible look of euphoria on his face, his eyes half-closed as he watched. It was the same expression he wore when she had first entered his service. Her age had not stopped him then, and nothing was stopping him now.

Swan caught laughter over the crackle of the enchantment as grinning faces spun around her in a dizzying blur of motion. Nopony stopped him, why would they? The ponies of her aerie knew better than to resist by now.

She wasn’t sure how long he chose to torment her, probably only a minute or so, before the agony ceased.

Swan lay there, gasping for breath, her muscles still painfully clenched and the stench of scorched fur now permeating the room.

Merry then knelt down, reaching a foreleg to her and gently stroked her mane. “Do not fear, my little Swan. I will not abandon you,” he whispered, almost lovingly into her ear. “Things will be like they were before. You will be my toy once again. Oh, the fun we’ll have together! We will make these dreary corridors sing with your cries of passion!”

His eyes shone with dark intent as his wicked imagination ran ahead of itself.

Her body wouldn’t obey. She wanted to struggle, to run, to do something. Instead, she just lay still, trying to shut out his presence.

“I’m surprised I hadn’t thought of this sooner,” he purred. “You always were my favourite. Honestly, you were wasted as a pilot, especially when you have so many wonderful attributes.”

He rose to his hooves once more, looking to Blitz. “You, whatever your name is, get her out of my sight. I will attend to her later. And somepony do something about this smell! I want things to be perfect when the dirt pony comes to visit.”

Swan tried to get to her hooves, but her muscles refused to cooperate and ached from the exertion. She let out a frustrated snort at her wobbling legs as she tried and failed to even sit up straight.

Suddenly, she felt something grasp her, and she tried to struggle away.

“It’s okay, Swan, it’s me, it’s Blitz. I’ve got you,” he said softly.

She swallowed and tried to speak, but no words came forth as he hefted her onto his back.

As she lay draped across his back, Blitz barged past the crowd that had gathered. Their sniggers and backhoofed comments blended into a terrible drone. Outlines of ponies merged into a confusing blur. The only thing she had that she could trust was the sensation of Blitz’s soft fur.

Her grip tightened on him.

Swan felt a terrible hollowness form inside her like her guts had been torn from her body, leaving an empty, broken shell. Tears blurred her eyes, but she would not give them the satisfaction of letting them fall.

They were halfway down the corridor outside when the dam she was so desperately shoring up began to crumble. A tiny sob escaped her lips as her last emotional bulwark fell and she wept.

Chapter 7 - The Enemy of my Enemy

The corridors leading towards the flight bays had been decorated in a gaudy attempt to show off somepony’s money. Fine silk sashes and tacky paintings adorned the walls in golden ornamental frames. Flurry found herself surprised that somepony hadn’t yet wallpapered over the very bulkheads themselves.

Murmurs followed behind every hoofstep as Flurry and Oakheart trotted towards Merry Weather’s sanctum. It had begun the moment they had stepped off the elevator, following their steps like the buzz of an angry swarm of bees.

The pegasi had come in ones and twos, and soon the crowd began to swell as ponies came from everywhere. The crowd seemed to be a cross-section of station staff, pilots, officers, and ground crew all milling together, whispering amongst themselves.

As Flurry and Oakheart walked, she regarded the stallion carefully, trying to gauge what his thoughts were as they made their way towards the lion’s den. She had to admit, he had quite the poker-face, his expression betraying nothing of any possible concern. His posture and body language were calm and confident, exuding an aura that radiated off him and into the surrounding crowd.

Flurry wasn’t sure if it was her presence or the stallion’s assured confidence, but the mob of pegasi parted for them as they walked. It was quite a sight to see the fearful and angry crowd quail before him, parting like a wave off the bow of a ship.

The crowd ebbed and flowed as more ponies tried to get a look at what was going on. They mostly kept their distance, ears flattened, their jet-black wings trembling at their sides. A few braver souls stood at the head of the mob, wings flared and heads lowered like they were facing down a manticore in their midst.

As Flurry walked, she caught a flitter of angry and frightened whispers darting between the mob in hushed voices, lest they draw the attention of the monster that walked amongst them.

Her eyes swept through the gathered pegasi, searching for the familiar cream coat of Swan Song. She expected the fiery young pegasus to come barging through the crowd like a rampaging minotaur to get up in her face again, but she was nowhere to be seen. It meant Swan was either waiting for them at her lordship’s side or was off making plans to carry through her threat, neither of which would be good for Nyx’s rescue mission.

Swan Song. The name felt familiar to Flurry, yet she couldn’t place where she had heard it before. She had never met Swan Song before now, but the Song name resonated with her for some reason. It was frustrating, like hearing a tune but not knowing its name.

They eventually neared a pressure door labelled ‘Officer’s Mess’ emblazoned with the Republic seal as well as other decorations.

This Merry Weather is definitely a noble of some sort. A career soldier wouldn’t have bothered making the effort, Flurry pondered.

Oakheart paused and tapped his holo-brace. “Chief, do you read me?”

“Loud and clear, sir,” Flintlock’s voice buzzed from the brace. “Everything okay?”

“So far. We’re about to enter Merry Weather’s… sanctum,” he said with a hint of displeasure in his voice.

“I copy. Any trouble, just give two taps on the comms and we’ll be there.”

“Copy that, chief,” Oakheart replied.

“Good luck.”

Oakheart turned to Flurry, his expression hardening. “Remember to follow my lead in there, understood?”

“This is your show, captain,” she replied, flicking her tail impatiently. “Let’s get this done so we’re not wasting any more time.”

“Remember, I’ve stuck my neck out for you. Try and exceed my expectations by not making this whole situation blow up in our faces,” he warned.

“Captain, I am known for my measured response to situations,” she replied with a shrug.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he said, ignoring her sarcasm and straightening his uniform.

The door slid open, and she was confronted by a waft of air carrying a scent that reminded her of a brothel rather than a military office. Sweat, booze, and incense all mixed together in a pungent stench that made her want to gag.

As she and Oakheart stepped inside, they were confronted by more pegasi that lined each side of the room. Also present were Merry Weather’s little gang of lackeys, made obvious by their more ostentatious attire. Beside them stood more young blackwings, their heads lowered as they held trays of drinks and hors d’oeuvres out for the fat pigs to gorge themselves on. Flurry had seen enough of this in the Imperial Court of Caelum. It sickened her there, and it wasn’t doing her impression of them any favours here.

Flurry quickly scanned the crowd for Swan and was surprised to see she wasn’t here either. Oakheart had said that the mare was here with her master. As head of the aerie, it made sense she would have been here to confront a threat. So where was she?

This whole situation was getting on Flurry’s nerves. You would have thought that after swearing to kill a pony, Swan would have had the decency to show up when said pony came knocking on their door.

At the end of the room was the pony she assumed was Merry Weather, perched on his expensive cloud chair. The stallion was wearing a rich red coat with a high collar that strained against his bloated belly. He had a mop of thinning, greasy, blonde mane and plump cheeks. As they approached, he grinned like a seagull that had just eaten your ice cream at the beach.

“Ah, Captain Oakheart with the infamous Last Shadow in tow,” the stallion greeted, waving away the assortment of attractive mares at his hooves. “My dear, rumours of your beauty don’t do you justice.”

He licked his lips as his eyes slithered over every inch of her body. “Mmm yes, very nice indeed.” The stallion’s eyes glazed over slightly, his smile becoming dreamy.

Flurry glared at the pegasus, hoping the purulent blob would catch fire by sheer will alone. Her wings bristled at her sides as cold fury coursed through her veins. It took all her willpower to resist the urge to punch him through the bulkhead.

Merry blinked out of his stupor. “Where are my manners? Would you like some refreshments?”

With a flick of his wings, a stallion stepped forward with a tray resting on his back, bearing silver goblets loaded with a cherry-scented wine. Both Oak and Flurry shook their heads at the offering.

“Mr. Merry Weather—” Oakheart began.

“Lord Merry Weather,” he corrected. “Let us not forget ourselves, captain.”

Oakheart’s jaw clenched by a tiny, almost imperceptible amount. “Lord Merry Weather, I trust you are aware of the reasons for this meeting?”

Merry leaned back in his cloud. “Something about you requiring the use of my aerie and carrier for a rescue mission?”

“Yes, the Orion has encountered a hostile force en route here and requires assistance,” Oakheart said. “Time is critical, Lord Merry Weather, as there are hundreds of lives at risk aboard the Orion.”

“I fail to see why I should risk my precious ships on a matter that is, frankly, none of my business,” Merry Weather replied with disinterest. “I have been contracted to protect Harmony, not participate in operations outside the Avalon system. I apologise—my heart goes out to those poor souls, it really does, but I must think of the safety of my aerie.”

He tried to sound sympathetic, but the sarcasm in his voice was palpable. Flurry snorted and took a step forward, the movement enough to make several present recoil backwards.

How dare he dismiss Nyx’s plight like it was somepony else’s problem! If he wasn’t going to help willingly…

Flurry felt something block her foreleg and saw Oak’s own foreleg there. She looked to him incredulously but was met with a calm, wordless nod. The gentle pressure on her foreleg assured her of his feelings on the matter. As much as her emotions were screaming to intervene, she reminded herself that she was just an observer in all this. With resignation, she stepped backwards.

“My my, captain, I am impressed! It seems the wild alicorn can be tamed after all. You must tell me your secret!” Merry laughed.

“Lord Merry, this is no laughing matter,” Oakheart said, his voice carrying a harder tone. “I need your ships to conduct this mission, and you are going to give them to me. Under the Harmony Initiative, which your Emperor signed, you are obligated to provide aid when it is required.”

“Don’t take that tone with me, captain. I was only ordered to defend the Avalon system, and I will not disobey my Emperor,” Merry retorted before taking on a more pleasant tone. “Now, if there is a misunderstanding, you may contact my government and we can get this sorry mess straightened out.”

Oakheart remained silent. They both knew any response would be days in coming, Republic bureaucracy being what it was.

“Why don’t you ask your dirt—” Merry caught himself, to the mirth of those gathered. “Forgive me, your Alliance friends for help? I’m sure they can be of assistance.”

Merry’s voice dripped insincerity, his eyes glinting with delight. He had them both on a string and he was just waiting to reel them in.

“The Alliance won’t be providing any assistance,” Oakheart stated flatly.

“That is a pity, but expected. Your Alliance has never been the most forthcoming when offering aid,” Merry said, his eyes turning to Flurry. “Of course, I could offer my help… for a price.”

Flurry looked to Oakheart, waiting for silent permission to begin her version of diplomacy, but none came.

“Has the Republic fallen so far that you won’t aid other ponies without the promise of a reward?” Oakheart sighed.

“Honour is well and good, but there are realities we must face. You of all ponies know this, captain,” Merry replied matter-of-factly. “Pilots can be replaced, but my ships? I need guarantees.”

Flurry swallowed the bile that had risen in her throat, her tail flicking unconsciously. Merry was a typical noble alright, putting self-interest before the lives of his ponies.

“The Director has authorised me to offer some generous incentives for your help,” Oakheart assured. “Political as well as monetary.”

The thought of dangling rewards in front of this fool like a carrot turned Flurry’s stomach, but if it was necessary in order to save Nyx, any sacrifice would be worth it.

Merry scratched his chin and leaned forward. “Oh, I was thinking of something a little more substantial.” His gaze turned to Flurry as he licked his lips, pointing one of his wings. “I want her, Last Shadow, to become one of my blackwings.”

“This is a joke, right?” Flurry bristled. “If you think I’m going to—”

“Lord Merry Weather, I suggest you take this situation more seriously,” Oakheart interrupted, stepping between her and Merry.

“Oh, I am deadly serious, captain. She is an enemy of the Republic, and I have the opportunity to bring her to justice,” he said, flexing his wings as he climbed down from his cloud, which was about as graceful as watching a building collapse. “Her reckoning has been in arrears for far too long.”

His self-righteous bluster did not match the perverse elation in his eyes. He was clearly relishing the situation.

“You would risk my cousin’s life just to capture me?” Flurry growled, the obvious anger in her voice making Oakheart cast her a worried glance.

“Come now, Princess. You of all ponies must know that nothing in this world is free,” he grinned. “My reputation would be ruined if word got back that I consorted with an enemy of the Republic. This is my price.”

He trotted forward with a smirk, oblivious to the faint smell of ozone building in the air. As he neared Flurry, the smell of cheap cologne fogged her senses, nearly making her gag. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Don’t be concerned, my dear, I always treat my pets well, and you are the most exquisite specimen I have ever seen. By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll positively beg for it.”

Flurry’s pupils shrank to pinpricks, her wings flaring open as rage swept over her like a brush fire.

“Lord Merry Weather—” Oakheart warned, but it was too late.

Her horn aglow, she wrapped her telekinetic grip around his throat, lifting him bodily into the air and slamming him against the wall. Blackwings and cronies were swept aside and scattered in terror as Flurry approached, oblivious to Oakheart’s pleas. Whammy bobbed frantically in step with her, but it was to no avail.

Merry flailed in her grip, gasping for air as her grasp tightened around his throat.

“Let me give you a new deal, you pompous slug. You give us what we need, or I take away your breathing privileges,” Flurry snarled, her voice deepening as powerful magic surged through her.

“Ms. Flurry,” Oakheart called, his calm voice cutting through her anger.

“No,” she snapped. “We don’t have time to waste on this scum. He dies and this all gets solved,” Her gripped tightened on him, making his eyes bulge as he reached for the invisible tendrils squeezing the life from him.

To her surprise, through his gasps, Merry Weather managed a chuckle. “Oh were… it… so easy,” he gasped.

She eased off slightly. “You have some final words? Your turn to beg, for a change?”

He gasped as a sliver of air returned to his lungs. “You think I’d have blackwings in my service without insurance?” He managed a smile. “My carrier’s drive system has a startup code. Without it, it’s not going anywhere.”

“Then give it to me.”

“Hmm, no, I don’t think so,” he said between coughs. “If you don’t put me down this instant, I’ll activate the enchantments of every blackwing on the station. You won’t get very far with everypony bleeding to death, will you?”

He would do it, of that she was certain. The sadistic glee in his eyes removed any shred of doubt as to his intentions.

“Ms. Flurry, I understand you’re angry, but this isn’t going to help Captain Nyx,” Oakheart said softly, placing a hoof on her shoulder. “You gave me your word that you’d let me handle this. You want trust? Then trust me.”

Flurry looked to him for a moment, her emotions pulling her in multiple directions. The suspicious part of her was screaming at her to get out of there and cut her losses. Yet, if she backed out now, all the headway she’d made would be lost, and Nyx would be lost too.

She hissed out a breath and let her magic fizzle out, causing Merry to slump to the ground.

“So, you can be obedient with the right motivation,” Merry Weather chuckled, rubbing his throat. “This is going to be fun.”

She glowered at him, fighting the urge to stomp his head into paste. The judgemental weight of Whammy felt heavy on her shoulder, his impassive glare silently urging calm.

“I’m going to look for Swan Song,” she said quietly, taking a breath as she looked to Oakheart. “I’ll leave you to negotiate here.”

Oak let out a relieved sigh. “Very well.”

She looked down at Merry Weather, who was now being helped up by the mares of his little harem. Her anger cooled as she met their fearful eyes, revealing the desperation of one simply trying to get by from moment to moment.

“Aww, have you finished already?” Merry taunted. “And after such a spirited start.”

Once Nyx is safe, there is going to be a change in management around here, she swore silently to herself.

“Where is she?” Flurry asked, trying to keep her voice level.

“Oh, probably recovering from her punishment. She always has been such a delicate thing,” he grinned.

“What did you do?” Flurry hissed, anger creeping back into her voice.

“Oh, you’ll see.”

Her tail flicked dangerously, but she simply trotted towards the exit, quietly hoping one of Merry’s cretins would be stupid enough to try and stop her.

“Oh Flurry Heart,” Merry Weather called, making her bristle. “If you find my Swan, do be gentle with her. It would ruin the plans I have for us if you were to kill her.”

Flurry wandered directionless through the corridors of the pegasus habitation block.

Damn that stubborn mare for being so hard to find! Flurry didn’t have time to be wasting like this. Everypony she tried to ask had either bolted the moment she spoke or simply shunned her all together. Her mood was already shot after her encounter with that pudgy snake Merry Weather, and now, all this leg work wasn’t helping.

Whammy had chosen to sit still during her search. She really wasn’t in the mood for his preaching right now anyway, and besides, for once he didn’t have a leg to stand on.

That arrogant piece of shit, she seethed internally, the mere idea of surrendering herself to his attentions making her sick to her core.

Flurry checked the time on her holo-brace for what felt like the eighth time in as many minutes. She had been fruitlessly searching for only ten minutes, but every minute wasted was one she couldn’t use to help Nyx. She couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

Seeing no other direction to go, she followed the signs leading to the pilot locker rooms.

As she rounded a corner, she spotted another group of pegasi, this time in flight suits, gathered around a pony she recognised.

The stallion that accompanied Swan! What was his name?

From the looks of things, what he was telling them wasn’t good news. His expression was grim, a hard frown on his brow and his eyes saying that he’d rather be doing anything but this. Those gathered all had flattened their ears and a few had their wings drooped dejectedly down.

She would rather not wade into the group at a time like this, but she’d have to for any hope of finding Swan.

Okay, Flurry, happy face, she thought, putting on her best non-threatening smile.

“Ahem, excuse me, might I have a word?” she called, trotting forward.

The stallion’s head snapped up and his eyes narrowed. “You. You’ve got some nerve coming here, Last Shadow. Haven’t you done enough damage already?”

“What are you talking about? I barely touched you,” she retorted, ignoring the dirty looks from the gathered pilots. “I’m looking for Swan Song.”

He flared his wings, stomping forward. “As if I’d let you get anywhere near her. The only reason I don’t kick your sorry tail is that you’ve got the dirt ponies watching your back.”

“You tell her, Blitz!” a chocolate brown mare with a creamy mane added before facing Flurry herself. “Just leave her alone!” she added with attempted bravado, though her trembling wings made her hard to take seriously.

“Whoa whoa, back up,” Flurry said. “She was fine when she left Oakheart’s office.” She then winced. “Well, okay, not fine fine, but she wasn’t hurt. Has something happened?”

“Don’t pretend like you're concerned!” Blitz yelled, his companions glaring daggers at her.

Flurry eyed him carefully. Swan wasn’t hurt, so this was something else entirely. He was frustrated, as were the rest of them, and it wasn’t just because she was here.

“Listen, I have no idea what's going on, but I’m not here to hurt anypony,” she said, putting as much sincerity into her voice as she could. “I’m here because I need your help.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “You’ve done enough, Last Shadow. Just leave us alone.”

“Please, hear me out! You know about the crisis with the Orion, right? They are desperate for help, and I—I can’t help them by myself,” she admitted, her ears flattening. “Please, don’t let your hatred of me cost hundreds of innocent ponies their lives.”

Blitz hesitated before looking away. He paced for a moment then let out an exasperated groan, ruffling his mane. “Winds curse me, I… Fine! Say your piece.”

“Great,” she said, eager not to let this tiny nudge of headway slip by. “I need to speak with Swan. She’s the head of your aerie, right?”

“Was,” Blitz said.

“What?”

“She was the head of the aerie, but Lord Merry stripped her of her rank when she failed to take you down. He even ordered the aerie to turn its back on her,” he said with a snort.

Flurry blinked. Just what did Merry Weather expect when he sent only two ponies after her?

“I had a run-in with your lord, the pompous prick,” she muttered. “I assume you’re not going to follow his orders?”

Blitz smirked briefly. “I’ve never been good at taking orders. Swan is our leader; nopony is taking her from us.”

The others nodded in agreement.

“So will you take me to her?” Flurry asked. “What’s going on between us is going to jeopardize the rescue mission if we don’t deal with it right now. I’m just going to talk with her, I swear.”

Blitz eyed her carefully, his obvious mistrust weighing on his thoughts.

“Okay,” he sighed. “You’d best follow me, though. I can’t guarantee she’ll even see you.”

“Thank you,” Flurry replied softly.

“Hey,” he shrugged. “I don’t think we’d be enough to stop you even if we tried. At least this way, nopony gets hurt.”

His companions looked to him, and he gave them a nod. “I’ve got this. You three can get going.”

“No way, Blitz,” the chocolate brown mare said with a shake of her head. “We’re coming too.”

The other two nodded adamantly.

“You’ll get in trouble if his lordship finds out,” he warned.

“Like we care what that pig thinks!” one of the other ponies exclaimed. “Swan needs us now, and we’re not going to leave her alone with her.” She jabbed a hoof in Flurry’s direction.

I’m right here, you know, Flurry groused internally.

Blitz shook his head. “You idiots. Alright, let’s go.” He then looked to Flurry. “Follow me.”

They trotted briskly, heading away from the habitation block and deeper into the station.

“Aren’t we going to her quarters?” she asked with a frown.

“We are,” Blitz replied simply.

“Right…”

They led her further into the bowels of the hangars, filled with warehouses and storerooms. A few roughly painted signs adorning the walls hinted at signs of civilisation where none should be. A laundry line had been strung across the wide corridor between two entranceways, and the odour of cooking food hung in the air.

As they walked, Flurry’s ears caught the chatter of ponies coming from within the open doors of warehouses. It all hushed as they passed, the hatches closing behind them as they walked by.

Looking at the squalor that these poor ponies lived in only served to infuriate Flurry further.

That asshole couldn’t even be bothered to give them decent quarters? she thought. The list of painful things she was going to do to Merry grew by the second.

No pony said a word as they walked, though Flurry could hear the slight tremble in their breath with every step.

“Swan is fortunate to have such loyal ponies,” Flurry commented, growing tired of the silence. “I can tell she means a lot to you.”

Blitz eyed her suspiciously.

“What? I’m just making conversation,” Flurry said. “If I’m going to be flying with you, I’d like to at least know your aerie’s dynamic.”

“She’s… always been there for us. Especially the younger members of our aerie,” he replied with a sigh. “In case you haven’t noticed, our lord has certain tastes that make life hard for newcomers.”

Flurry let out a sad sigh. “How long have you known her?”

“We met at flight school,” he replied, wincing slightly. “A load of us newly branded fledglings were tossed out of our homes and into training. Despite carrying the weight of these wings, Swan stood up for us, encouraging us when nopony would.” He smiled despite himself. “That damned pride of hers, she never let anypony fall behind.”

His expression softened, his gaze becoming distant. Flurry’s practiced eye caught a few flickers of something else in those eyes—a warmth that told her this was more than mere respect for a friend.

As he noticed she was staring at him, his cheeks reddened and he looked away.
Flurry chose to remain silent on this little revelation as they neared their destination—a dreary looking door with what looked to be a hoof-drawn symbol of the Republic taped to it. A sad smile played on her muzzle as she looked at it. Even when they had nothing, they still wanted to show they were loyal soldiers of the Republic. Pegasus pride at its finest.

“Here we are,” Blitz said, swallowing.

“You take the lead and I’ll follow,” Flurry offered.

He gave her a nod before turning to his companions. “It’s best you wait here so we don’t crowd her.”

“Okay, Blitz. We’ll be here if you need us,” the chocolate-coloured mare said, giving Flurry the stink-eye.

“You won’t have any trouble from me,” Flurry said. “I swear by the Winds.”

The mare blinked, taken a bit aback. “R-right.”

The door slid open and Blitz gave his companions a solemn nod before stepping inside.

Flurry had to stoop as she followed, the ceiling not being quite tall enough for her increased stature. Inside were rows of collapsible bunk beds arrayed in a line. A set of hooflockers lay beside each, marked with its owner’s personal touches of stickers and scrawls. A pair of fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling, bathing the room in a harsh light. How anypony was expected to sleep in here was hard to imagine.

The air was humid, and the thick aroma of sweat and drying clothes hung in the air like a cloying fog. Given the state of her room back on the Dream, at least that was familiar. Still, Flurry would have expected something like this from a temporary billet, not a permanent posting.

Her ears perked as she heard sniffling from the far end of the room,

“Swan, it’s me,” Blitz called. “There’s somepony that needs to talk to you.”

There was a shift in a mass of blankets, then a face peered up from the furthest bunk. Swan Song looked terrible, her coat and mane a sodden mess and her eyes puffy and moist. A fresh bruise had blossomed on her face, and others dotted her body. To see that fiery pegasus brought so low hit Flurry harder than she expected.

Swan’s eyes widened, but her movements were slow and listless. “What’s she doing here, Blitz?” There was a tiny spark of anger in her voice, but it was the only sign of emotion from the pegasus.

Blitz went to speak, but Flurry held out a forehoof, shaking her head.

“I made him bring me here,” Flurry said. “You and I need to talk.”

“Have you come just to rub it in my face? See the uppity blackwing be put in her place?” Swan growled. “Well, you got what you wanted.”

Flurry took a few tentative steps towards her. “I never intended to hurt anypony.”

“Don’t give me that shit!” Swan hissed, moving to meet her on shaky legs. “This is what you do, Last Shadow. You hurt ponies everywhere you go. That’s all you’re capable of.”

Flurry felt her temper flare up. “Enough with this Last Shadow crap! That was a long time ago. The war’s over!”

“Not for me! Not for the families of all those pegasi you butchered,” Swan spat.

“The only pegasi I killed were trying to do the same to me! Do you think I’m proud of that? You think I enjoyed it?” Flurry retorted. “It was war. Ponies died all the time, no matter what we did to try and stop it.”

“Like you cared!” Swan yelled. “Don’t try and hide what you did behind some noble sentiment. You’re a murderer, plain and simple. I saw it in your eyes in Oakheart’s office!”

“Hey, you attacked me,” Flurry spat, jabbing a hoof at her. “All to get your precious honour back. That’s all you pegasi care about! Your damned honour!”

“It’s all I have left!” Swan retorted. “Not that you would know anything about that! Betrayal is second nature to you.”

Swan’s words cut deeper than Flurry would have liked. She felt her anger begin to rise.

“Don’t presume to lecture me, kid. You, a mere child whose only experience of war is watching it on holovids. You’ve no right to sit there and judge me when you weren’t there,” Flurry growled. “Is that what this is about? You lost somepony in the war and you want to blame me for it?”

Swan seemed to deflate, sinking to her haunches. She looked down, her whole body trembling with emotion.

“You ruined my life!” Swan cried. “You took everything from me! Because of you, my family’s reputation was ruined. Because of you, we’ve all had to suffer… because of you…”

The mare wiped tears out of her eyes, a ragged sob escaping her lips.

Flurry was silent, her mind racing to think of anything, any event where she might have caused a family to be shamed. Dying in combat against one of the Emperor’s greatest foes was considered the highest honour a pegasus could aspire to. She had lost count of the number of pegasi that challenged her to single combat during the war.

“What happened, Swan? Help me understand,” she said finally. At Swan’s obvious reluctance, she pressed. “Please.”

Swan Song wiped her eyes, fighting the tremors of emotion sweeping her. It took a moment, but the mare gradually brought herself under control.

“The Song family have always been soldiers of the Republic. We can trace our roots all the way back to its formation,” Swan began. “So when my brother Star Song enlisted, we were all so proud, especially my father.”

She looked away. “Then the war broke out. He went to Mulberry and never came back. You… you killed him there”.

Flurry’s ears flattened as the mare recounted her tale.

“My father was devastated. He changed before our eyes and then he…” her expression darkened. “He betrayed our Emperor! He betrayed us all, and my family was judged for it. Disgraced! Cast down and forced to…”

Her whole body shuddered, and she rubbed a fetlock unconsciously.

Warsong. Now Flurry remembered why Swan’s name felt so familiar. This stallion had dared to stage a coup against Emperor Stratos in protest over the war. The aftermath had swept through the Republic like a brushfire, dragging in hundreds of families that had shown the slightest hint of lack of commitment to the war.

“Your father was a brave pony,” Flurry said thoughtfully. “It takes someone special to take a stand against everything they believed in for what they think is right.”

“Don’t talk to me like you understand! You were favoured by his Highness, given honour, titles, and then you turned on us!” Swan hissed. “Just like he did!”

”Are we talking about me or him?” Flurry pressed.

“He was a traitor! It’s all his fault! It’s…” Swan brought a hoof to her muzzle, tears running freely down her cheeks. “Oh, Winds I…”

Her head slumped, a tiny sob escaping her lips.

Flurry reached out with a hoof and gently rested it on Swan’s shoulder. The mare shied away from the contact, perhaps mostly out of reflex. Her eyes held so much fear. It looked alien on the proud pegasus.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you,” Flurry said softly, gently pulling her into an embrace. Swan resisted at first, but Flurry moved slowly and gently, like a mother with a frightened child. “I’m sorry, kid. I’m sorry that my coming here has caused you so much pain.”

She gently stroked the mare’s back as quiet sobs wracked her.

“I would give my life a thousand times over if it would bring all those lost ponies back,” Flurry sighed. “I tried so hard to fix what had been broken, but the damage is done. Now I have to live with the consequences.”

She gently released Swan and backed away. “I promise you, Swan. Whether you decide to help me or not, I’m going to help you and your aerie any way I can.”

“How do I know I can trust you? That you’re not just making promises because you need us,” Swan asked.

“Nothing I say can make you trust me. I only ask that you let my actions prove my sincerity,” she replied. “So, will you fly by my side?”

“I can’t,” Swan said, lowering her head. “He’s taken my aerie away from me. They won’t follow me. I’m a coward.” She swallowed bitterly. “It runs in my family.”

“What are you, a plucked chicken or a pegasus?” Flurry challenged. “Since when do you let yourself be told who you are by someone with his head stuck up his ass? They’re your aerie. Your family. Are you going to just give up on them because he tells you to?”

“But…”

“Stop looking at the floor. A pegasus should always be looking to the sky,” she said. “There are members of your aerie outside right now worried about you. Do you think they care what he says you are?”

“I…” Swan stammered. “You don’t know what he’s like. My resolve to fight this is so much less than it was.”

“Listen, don’t let Merry or those black wings define who you are,” she said. “You came to face me with nothing but your will to win. That takes guts, or stupidity, but it’s my kind of stupidity.”

Flurry rose to her hooves, an idea forming in her mind. She couldn’t just leave things as they were. She had made a promise to this pegasus, and she intended to keep it. It wasn’t just because she needed them, but because here, she had a chance to fix some of the damage she had caused. Maybe after this, she could let Last Shadow finally rest, if only on Harmony. All she had to do was give up her freedom for a little while.

That thought alone made her hesitate. Her freedom was one of the few things she still had to her name. Being caged at the whims of a perverse toad was not what she would call appealing. Yet, she could feel her confidence growing inside her.

Merry Weather might hold all the cards regarding the Orion, but Flurry could use that to her advantage if she played on his hubris. She was certain she could break the blackwing enchantment—after all, she was an alicorn. She only needed to play along until everything was settled. After that, she and Merry would be having a long and painful chat.

Flurry grinned maliciously as she thought of the shock on Merry’s face once he realised her enchantment was gone. Maybe a little accident with an airlock might be in order?

One thing at a time, Flurry, she mentally chided herself.

Flurry regarded Swan, feeling her resolve growing as she gazed at the poor broken mare before her.

She could do this.

“Just think about it,” she said. “You are more than you think you are. It’s in your blood.” She smiled softly before trotting towards the exit.

“Where are you going?” Swan called.

Flurry looked backwards. “Oh, off to do something incredibly stupid.” At Swan’s confused expression, she winked. “I’ll see you on the flight line.”

She trotted past Blitz, who smirked and shook his head at her before heading outside where the others were waiting. “She’s ready to see you now,” Flurry said as she passed by, a satisfied smile growing on her face as the others rushed inside.

She looked to the plushie on her shoulder. “What do you say, Whammy? Ready to do something crazy?”

His antennae jiggled slightly with the motion of her trot. “My, you’re awfully positive all of a sudden. A good feeling? This is a first.”

Clearing her mind, she readied her teleportation spell. The image of her destination formed in her mind, and with a spark of power, she reached out.

Flurry reappeared back in Merry Weather’s hovel with a pop and a waft of displaced air. There were a few panicked gasps as she straightened herself.

Oakheart simply stared at her, an eyebrow raised. She wondered just what it would take to surprise this pony.

“Ah, Last Shadow,” Merry Weather said, trying to conceal his surprise. “Such an extravagant entrance!”

“Have you made any headway?” she asked Oak, pointedly ignoring the pegasus.

“The captain has made an interesting proposal, but as much as I’d love a position within the Imperial Court, I have my eyes on a much more valuable prize,” Merry grinned. “I assume you’ve considered my offer, yes?”

“I have.”

Flurry tried to ignore Oakheart’s worried expression as she pondered her options.

She felt herself hesitating, her mind searching for any other options but finding none. She wanted to just punch the smug stallion’s head off, but she knew that any satisfaction to be had from it would be temporary and wouldn’t help her situation. If she was going to help Nyx and her crew, she was just going to have to swallow her pride.

“I’ll do it. I’ll become your little slave in exchange for using your ship to rescue the Orion,” she declared. “But, I have conditions.”

Merry’s eyes widened with joy. “Marvelous! Please do go on.”

“Let’s talk about Lieutenant Swan Song…”

As she spoke, she spared a few glances to Oakheart. His eyes had widened, and a look of genuine shock had crossed his features.

So, I can surprise him after all.

Chapter 8 - Price of Admission

Flurry Heart impatiently checked her holo-brace for the umpteenth time. She had four hours and twenty minutes to get to Nyx before the Orion's life support failed and they would begin to suffocate. On top of that was the ever-increasing chance that they were under attack already. The thought made her heart clench, and she fought to keep her emotions from running out of control.

She didn’t have time for this nonsense. She needed to be out there helping Nyx! Why was she here, waiting on this fat, preening oaf and his ridiculous need for theatrics? Dark thoughts of snapping the idiot’s neck played in her mind, but she did not indulge them. She couldn’t afford to cause any more delays, regardless of how satisfying the idea was.

Flurry let out an irritated snort at the thought of surrendering herself to the disgusting slavemaster. The mere idea made her skin crawl. Still, this was a small sacrifice if it saved everyone’s life on the Orion. Playing along to keep Merry happy would buy her enough time to complete the mission. Once she got back, she would crack the command spell and then introduce Merry to an alicorn’s version of justice.

Her gaze drifted around the hangar in which she stood, across the nervous faces all looking at her. Every pegasus under Merry Weather’s command had been gathered here, from the lowliest mechanic to the most august of Merry’s inner circle. It didn’t matter that they all had work to do; the sleazy low-life would have his spectacle. He wanted everypony to see his moment of triumph—Last Shadow brought to heel.

This show had been part of the deal for his help after all.

Her gaze fell upon Oakheart, prominent for being the only earth pony amongst the crowd. He looked concerned, almost anxious. She hadn’t consulted him on her decision, and now, events were out of his hooves. He was just a spectator, and he was clearly unhappy about where this was headed.

Flurry still hadn’t seen Swan Song, though she spotted Blitz and his wingmates in the crowd. She gave him a nod, which he at least acknowledged.

“Attention!” a well-dressed stallion barked, making everypony stand straight. “May I present his lordship, Merry Weather!”

A reluctant stomp of applause rippled through the crowd as Merry Weather’s procession emerged. Twenty or so of his cronies surrounded him, barging their way past anyone too slow to move out of the way. They were all decked out in their red dress uniforms, covered in polished medals, striding forward like strutting peacocks. They all looked ridiculous amongst the oil-soaked coveralls and patched flight suits of those gathered, but none more so than Merry Weather himself.

His gold-accented jacket strained to keep his bulk contained, the front clasps valiantly fighting against the tide of fat. His chest jingled with tinny-sounding medals of all shapes and sizes, all polished to an impossible golden sheen. His mane looked almost solid with all the styling grease he had applied, bobbing heavily with each step he took.

Swan Song walked alongside him, a long ornate staff of black oak held under a wing. She appeared shell-shocked, her eyes listless and unfocused. The poor mare was evidently still processing everything that had taken place in the past few hours. As she caught sight of Flurry, she stopped for a moment, a frown crossing her brow. Flurry could see that Swan’s mind was racing, trying to comprehend everything that was happening.

The whole thing began shaking Flurry’s resolve, a sliver of doubt chipping away at her confidence. This was her last chance to back out before she was fully committed. She quashed the thought with a reminder that this wasn’t merely to help Nyx, but to hopefully achieve something profound for the slaves present here.

The procession came to a stop before Flurry Heart, and one of Merry’s officers motioned for silence. The stomping of hooves trailed off, leaving the hangar silent.

“You took your time,” she huffed. “What, did they have to butter you up so you could fit through the doors or something?”

Merry Weather simply smiled. “My, what a foul mouth. Is that any way to speak to your new master?”

“I’m not yours yet, cream puff,” she said.

He chuckled and leaned in close, the stench of his cologne almost choking. “Not to worry, I’ll soon find something to keep that mouth busy with.”

Flurry merely bared her teeth and snapped her jaws together, causing a few of the nearby stallions to wince.

Merry offered a smirk, pulling back and opening his wings as he turned toward the crowd. “My dear subjects! I have wonderful news to share with you all!” he called. “We find ourselves welcoming an auspicious new member into our ranks of blackwings.” He then gestured towards her. “The infamous killer known as Last Shadow… Flurry Heart!”

There were gasps of shock from the crowd, murmurs rolling through them like a wave.

“Some of you may have longstanding grievances against her, but let it be known that it is only because of her generosity that the coward Swan Song rejoins your ranks,” he said, earning a gasp from Swan herself. “She will be leading the blackwings in the coming operation.”

Swan looked to Flurry with wide eyes, her shock turning to confusion. She blinked away tears, her shoulders sagging in relief. Flurry simply smiled and winked at her before turning to look back at Merry. He seemed to be keeping up his end of the bargain, at least for now.

Merry then turned to Swan Song. “Now, my dear, I give you the honour of branding the newest member of your aerie.”

Swan Song’s gaze flicked between Merry and Flurry for a moment, hesitation freezing her to the spot.

“Well?”

“Yes, my lord,” Swan murmured, drawing the staff and clutching it in her hooves.

Closer now, Flurry could make out the details of the staff’s headpiece. It was two pegasi carved into the wood, their heads held low while their wings were stretched upwards, supporting a flat base marked with arcane runes. Dark magic pulsed from the runes and made her bristle as her senses brushed against it.

This was the staff of judgement, whose power would bind the recipient to their new owner until they were released. During her time in the Republic, she had seen it being used a few times, back when it was only meant to punish criminals. What was once a simple system of repaying society for your crimes, was now twisted into a cruel slaver’s tool, somehow sanctioned by the Republic.

Swan reluctantly took to the air and hovered over Flurry’s head.

“By the Emperor’s judgement, you are condemned for your crimes against the Republic,” Swan choked out, barely able to speak.

Merry’s eyes were shining with glee. “May your shame mark you, blackwing.”

He nodded to Swan Song, who hesitated, drawing a frown from Merry. “Do not make me regret my decision, my dear Swan.”

Flurry tilted her head and looked to the hovering pegasus. The mare’s eyes were wide, the staff shaking in her hooves. Despite Swan wanting her dead mere hours earlier, the branding was obviously far more personal to her. “Hurry up, kid. Get this over with; we’ve no time to dawdle. It’ll be okay.”

Swan nodded glumly, bringing the staff down to touch between Flurry’s flight muscles along her back.

Flurry winced as she felt something cold dive into her core. It was alien and sickly, coiling around her flight magic like a living thing, enveloping it whole. She let out a gasp as her wings went numb, and looking back, she saw speckles of black appear on her primary feathers. Her wings flapped involuntarily, the lack of sensation sending her body into a panic. The numbing coldness crept up her spine, heading towards her horn. She tried to hold it back, but it slipped through her defences like smoke. The dark blotches grew as everypony watched, until it swallowed the last of her natural colour, leaving her wings jet-black.

Merry looked like he was about to explode with joy at the sight.

Flurry tried to light her horn, which only produced a few sputtering sparks of light. All of her senses were dulled, distant sounds becoming indistinct, and she could no longer feel the air currents in her wings nor the pulse of magic in her horn.

Oh this isn’t good.

She barely held back her body’s growing panic as she tried to reach out to her senses, only to be met with empty silence. Her breathing increased, and sweat began to form on her brow as her heartbeat rose to a crescendo.

It took all of her will to hold her body in check. She couldn’t afford a full-blown panic attack now, not in front of him.

Focus.

She swallowed and glared at him. “Remember our deal, fatso, I get my powers until the Orion is docked.”

“What’s the magic word, my pet?” he asked in a sing-song voice.

Her teeth clenched and she bit back an insult. Just play along—he’ll get what’s coming to him later.

“Please.”

He flapped a wing, and a jolt passed through her like somepony had just shocked her with a stun rod at maximum setting. She clenched her teeth and bore the pain in silence. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of showing everyone how much it hurt.

“We must work on your etiquette, but all in good time,” he said with a sigh, flexing both wings in a complicated series of movements.

The change was immediate, like a shawl had been lifted from her eyes as her magic returned. Though now, there was a weight that wasn’t there before, like a cancerous blob coiled around her power.

“As agreed. Remember, my pet, you have twenty-four hours to return, otherwise the enchantment will kill you,” Merry warned. “I suggest you don’t be late.”

He let out a happy sigh. “Now, you all may return to your duties,” he announced before trotting away. “I shall prepare for your triumphant homecoming. Ta ta.”

Flurry simply scowled as he trotted away, laughing with his cronies.

As she turned, she saw the crew chief trot up to Swan, who was still clutching the staff tightly. She looked like she was going to be sick.

“Welcome back, lieutenant,” the old stallion said, giving her a salute. “Not an easy thing you just went through. You did well.”

It took a moment for Swan to recover before she straightened and returned the salute. “Thank you, Ratchet.” Her voice trembled with emotion, but she held it mostly in check, earning a small smile from the chief.

He patted her on the shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”

He then turned to his work crews. “Alright you sorry lot, show’s over!” he yelled over the rising chatter. “We’ve still got ships to load onto the carrier so move it! The clock is ticking, ponies!”

The work crew fluttered off, heading towards the neighbouring hangars to begin their duties, leaving only a few blackwings remaining.

It was much quieter when Swan finally spoke.

“Tell me why, Last Shadow. Why did you do this?” she asked. “You just gave up your freedom. Everything. Why? I-I don’t understand.”

“I need Merry’s ship, and I need you to lead your aerie. Not to mention, I promised I’d help you,” Flurry replied, matter of factly. “I keep my promises, kid.”

“You don’t understand. You just sold your soul away,” she said, looking to the staff she held with revulsion.

“He might have my body for a while, but he doesn’t own our souls, kid,” Flurry replied. “Or should I refer to you as ma’am now? You technically are the head of my aerie.”

Swan’s tail flicked, and she let out a sigh. “Just Swan will do, Last—”

“Flurry Heart. My name’s Flurry Heart,” Flurry interrupted. “Last Shadow is dead. She’s been dead for a long time.”

Swan nodded grimly. “Fine, but you should know, this doesn’t change anything. I’m not your friend, and when this is over, I’m going to settle things between us.”

“I understand,” Flurry said with a sigh. “Look, I’m not expecting you to just sweep everything under the rug like it never happened. It might not have been my original reason for coming here, but I do want to help you, Swan. If you’ll let me.”

“You’re only doing this because you need us for your mission,” she said. “Once it’s over, you’ll weasel your way out of it, somehow, and leave us behind. Don’t try and pretend it’s for anything more than that.”

“Trust doesn’t come instantly, but it’s a start, right?”

“I suppose it is.”

Flurry gave her a weak smile as Oakheart joined them.

“Lieutenant,” he greeted Swan, giving her a nod. “I know things have been hectic for you the past few hours, but you should know that we’re departing within the hour. Sabre, Rapier, and Falchion squadrons are coming with us. Could you inform your pilots?”

“Yes sir,” Swan replied, giving him a salute before turning to leave. She stopped, her ears flattening as she looked back to the black-winged alicorn. “Flurry Heart?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” And with that, she was gone.

Flurry smiled and flexed her black wings. “This is going to take some getting used to.”

“Care to tell me what you were thinking?” Oakheart demanded, his voice creeping up in volume.

She waved a hoof dismissively. “Relax, we got what we wanted, and now, Swan is joining us. Two clouds with one kick.”

He shook his head. “Ms. Flurry, I don’t think you understand the gravity of what you’ve done.”

“I understand perfectly, captain.”

“No, you don’t!” he said with an emphatic stomp. “You undertook the blackwing enchantment voluntarily. Harmony’s laws won’t be able to protect you.”

“It’s alright, captain,” she replied softly. “It’s sweet that you’re worried, but I’ve got this, I just need to…”

Her horn glowed as she reached down to the coiling black mass that infested her magic. It was like several balls of string merged together, the enchantment’s various components a mad tangle of strands. It would only be a matter of removing the right ones to give the impression it was still active.

First things first, she mused, reaching for the strand that acted as the control mechanism for the enchantment. Disabling that would stop Merry from shocking her whenever he pleased. She was going to need it gone if she was going to move on Merry once this was over.

The effect of her magic touching the enchantment was instant. Reacting to her intrusion, the spell quickly summoned a jolt of electricity from her core. It coiled around her body, rippling through her nervous system in agonizing pulses.

“Ms. Flurry…” Oakheart called, his voice suddenly distant.

The pain was intense, like a vice had clamped onto her horn. Her body convulsed as the jolts grew in intensity. She quickly resorted to tugging at the mass wholesale, hoping to rip it out. Yet for each piece she ripped away, a new piece appeared.

She staggered as pain began to flood her senses, her wings and legs tensing unbearably from the electricity pulsing through her body. Her focus was slipping as her body screamed at her to stop.

It was hopeless. She was no magical prodigy like… like Twilight. Brute force was all she knew, and it wasn’t working.

Eventually she had to stop, staggering into Oakheart as her muscles relaxed.

“Ms. Flurry, are you hurt?” he asked, bracing himself against her weight.

“Oookay, this might be a problem.”

Chapter 9 - On the Brink of the Abyss

The elevator ride down to the station’s lower docks was quiet, with neither Flurry nor Oakheart willing to break the silence.

Her failure to disable the enchantment hung in the air between them like a bad odour. She had been running the whole event through in her mind since they had left the hangar, trying desperately to come up with a solution to her quandary.

Magical theory had never been Flurry’s strong point. One of the benefits of being an alicorn was that you didn’t usually need to learn finesse when the magical equivalent of a sledgehammer normally did the trick. Poking around and figuring out how it worked was usually Twilight’s schtick, and that was the last mare she wanted to be thinking about right now.

Flurry tried to calm herself and think, but her heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest. It had all seemed so simple in her head, but now she was stuck, possibly for a very long time. Worse still, she was no closer to helping Swan or her aerie. Until they got rid of this enchantment, they were all screwed, metaphorically as well as literally.

She cast a glance to Whammy, who had been conspicuously silent as everything had fallen apart. It had been his encouragement that had made her go ahead with this crazy plan in the first place. Was this his way of punishing her for being dragged into all those heists?

She shook her head before the idea took root; she couldn’t be second-guessing him now. He had never led her astray yet. She just needed to think.

Nyx.

That’s right! Nyx will be able to get her out of this, Flurry thought, a thin shard of hope cutting through her fear like sunlight through a storm cloud. Nyx always had a plan, a strategy, and most importantly, good connections. If anypony could find a way to release her, it would be her cousin.

If she’ll help, that is. They hadn’t exactly parted on good terms before the war.

The thought made Flurry waver, but she didn’t linger on it. Once they rescued Nyx, they would come up with a plan to stop Merry. She just needed to focus on the mission for now and keep her head on straight.

Oakheart seemed irritated. He had borne Merry’s company with barely a grimace, but now, he had an expression that could sour honey. His tail swished from side to side, and his ears flicked in annoyance.

“If you’ve got something to say, just say it,” Flurry said, growing tired of the charged silence.

His mouth twisted, probably considering and rejecting several choice epithets. “Why didn’t you come to me first with your plan?” he finally asked.

“We were running out of time and needed his ship. How was I supposed to know the blackwing staff had crazy-strong defense mechanisms?”

He turned and jabbed a hoof at her chest. “While you’re on this station, you’re my responsibility, Ms. Flurry. It’s my duty to keep those under my command safe, not stand by while they sell themselves into slavery.” He let out a sigh and looked away. “Now you’ve taken it out of my hooves.”

Flurry allowed herself a smile. “There wasn’t much you could have done, captain, not in the time we had.”

“I could have done something,” he said with an angry snort. “Harmony is about building trust and helping those that need it, not exploiting others for personal gain. If I allow this to go through, then I will have failed in my duty.”

“So, it’s professional pride then?”

“It’s principle, Ms. Flurry,” he replied sternly.

“And here I thought you cared about little old me,” she said, putting on a tone of mock hurt.

“You’ve caused me enough headaches in the past four hours to last a lifetime. Believe me, getting you free and off my station is going to do wonders for my blood pressure,” he said with a wry smile.

“Come on, captain, your impression of me must have changed ever so slightly by now,” she probed.

Oakheart pondered for a moment before speaking. “A little.”

“Wow, you really know how to throw a girl a bone,” she grumbled.

“Don’t get me wrong, Flurry. You’re still reckless, insubordinate, and don't belong in any uniform,” he said firmly before his expression softened, a smile playing on his muzzle. “But I can see now the compassion for others that drives you. It is… quite the force of nature.”

His smile quickly disappeared as he noticed she was watching him intently, causing him to look away, suddenly finding the elevator controls very interesting.

“Why captain, I didn’t know I was having that effect on you,” she said with a wolfish grin. “I’ll have to watch myself around you in the future.”

The doors hissed open, and she trotted outside with a little swish of her tail and a sway of her hips. “Are you coming? Or are you just gonna keep staring?”

“This mare is going to be the death of me,” he muttered with a shake of his head.

Flurry chuckled as they came around a corner to a corridor lined on one side with large glass windows, looking out onto one of the station’s massive external docking pylons, as well as a spectacular view of the planet Avalon in the background. Outside, there was a clear view of the berth where Merry Weather’s ship was docked.

To say she was surprised would have been an understatement.

“We’re going in that?!” Flurry exclaimed with an incredulous gasp.

There was nothing structurally wrong with the ship. It was a perfect example of pegasus design, resembling some exotic flying fish you might find in the oceans of Mamba, equally at home in the sea or the sky. Two long, curved wings arced elegantly backwards from the large contoured main body of the hull. The ship’s drive section at the rear was concealed beneath yet more gently curving panels of hull plating.

No turrets or antennae blemished its surface, as no self-respecting pegasus would ever let such things ruin the aesthetic. They were hidden away in recessed bays until they were needed. Even the launch tubes for her fighters were concealed behind hatches on the wing’s leading edge. The only blemish was the gaping docking bay on its bow, a necessary compromise for the ship’s intended role.

No, the ship itself wasn’t the problem.

It was the choice of colours that Merry had the ship painted in that was the problem.

The carrier was painted in the same crimson red as all Republic ships. The offense here was that he had decided to add golden feathers across the ship’s wingspan, along with every intake and contour lined with golden flowers and leaves. Worse still, there were paintings of pegasus mares cavorting across the wings and bow, adding to this offence against art. The ship looked like it belonged on a stall in some flea-ridden houndrathi bazaar for gullible tourists.

The name “Glorium” was illuminated on the ship’s bow as if the owner had any idea what that word even meant. If Flurry had encountered this ship in the wild, out in any other part of Dragon’s Head, it probably would have made her thieving senses tingle. It simply screamed “I’m rich, please rob me,” and she couldn’t help but feel sorry for its poor crew.

The carrier had been kept hidden underneath the station proper as if everypony was ashamed to even see it. Ponies in EVA suits were busy loading cargo onto it, and the last of the aerie’s fighters were being shuttled aboard.

The Dream had already been loaded aboard, as per Oakheart’s instructions. He didn’t want the Alliance ships outside catching wind that she was departing, lest they try and stop them.

It was strange that the usual anxiety about her ship being in other ponies’ hooves was gone. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time—trusting others.

“Merry Weather has some unique tastes, but it’ll serve our purpose,” Oakheart said.

“Urgh, Nyx is never going to let me live this down,” Flurry said. “I hope the damn thing will actually work.”

“I should hope so, given the price we—well, the price you paid for it,” he grumbled. “Let’s hope Merry’s crew is at least competent.”

It had surprised Flurry when she learned that Oakheart would be in command of the mission. She could only imagine the resistance Merry put forth when Oak demanded it. Though she suspected the fat pegasus took some glee in the idea of it being a cruel joke, considering the trouble an earth pony was going to have getting around inside the ship.

Soon, they were walking through the main space bridge connected to the Glorium. The passageway was full of pegasi, flitting to and fro as they made preparations for departure. Most were too busy to notice, but those that did all stopped to gawk at them as they passed by.

After passing through the main airlock, they boarded the Glorium, entering the expansive corridors of the carrier proper.

The ship was broken up into several large atriums that led to the various decks. The corridors were wide with tall arched ceilings that were hidden behind projections of blue cloudy skies. A gentle breeze wafted through the open spaces, dancing across her feathers as she walked. She hadn’t felt this sense of space aboard a starship in a long time.

Unfortunately for Oakheart, there were no elevators or stairs connecting the decks. Such things weren’t needed when your entire crew had wings.

They came to the atrium that served as access to the carrier’s flight deck far below. Pegasi were busy flitting between the levels as they rushed to get the ship ready.

Oakheart’s expression narrowed into a scowl, and he let out a snort as he stood on the precipice, staring into the chasm below. "They were supposed to have made this ship earth pony-accessible before they came to Harmony.”

“You didn’t really think they expected an earth pony to actually want to come aboard, did you?” she asked.

“We all must adapt sooner or later, Ms. Flurry,” he replied before swallowing nervously as he eyed the drop.

“You need any help?” she asked, holding back a chuckle.

“I need to get up to the bridge,” he said reluctantly, looking up towards the top of the atrium. “So yes, I’d appreciate it.”

She grinned, taking to the air and hooking her forelegs around his to lift him up off the deck.

“Comfy?”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Oh absolutely,” she said with a devilish grin, arching her body so they headed towards the drop.

“Okay, gentlyyy!!!!” he cried as she soared off the edge and into the open space.

A few pegasi stopped to watch the ridiculous display of an earth pony being hefted up by Flurry’s forelegs like a filly’s teddy bear. Looking down, she could see his eyes were tightly closed as he muttered something to himself over and over again.

She was half tempted to pretend to drop him, but that would’ve been cruel to the poor stallion. His pride was already taking a hefty hit as it was.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the platform that led to the bridge. There, she recognised the dark-green stallion who stood beside a set of blast doors. It was one of Merry’s cronies from earlier. He gave them both a bemused smile as she came in to land.

She gently set Oakheart down onto the platform, where he immediately let out a sigh of relief at being on solid ground again. He then straightened his slightly crumpled uniform and composed himself.

“You okay there, cap’n?” she asked with a smirk, earning an unamused glare from him.

“I don’t like heights,” he said.

“You can ride on my back on the way down if you’d like,” she offered with a sly smile. “Or maybe I could hold you in my forelegs like a swooning maiden being rescued by her dashing knight.”

His tail flicked. “I’d prefer you just dangle me like a sack of potatoes.”

“Aww, you’re no fun.”

Satisfied his uniform was presentable, Oakheart trotted forward to the waiting pegasus.

“Ah, Captain Oakheart, a pleasure to see you, and may I say, such a graceful entrance,” the pegasus stallion said, his mocking tone immediately ruffling Flurry’s feathers. “My name is Downdraft. I am the shipmaster of our esteemed Lord Merry Weather, and I will be your liaison during this operation.”

“Thank you, Downdraft.” Oakheart said, any residual signs of discomfort disappearing under that professional mask. “What is our status on loading?”

“Loading is seventy-five percent complete. We were just securing our new pet alicorn’s ship,” Downdraft replied, offering a smug look in Flurry’s direction.

Oakheart subtly side-stepped to place himself between them. “Estimated departure time?”

“Twenty minutes, depending on how quickly your soldiers load their equipment,” Downdraft said, opening the door to the command deck. “If you’ll come this way, I’ll show you the bridge.”

Oakheart trotted inside, following Downdraft’s gesture. Flurry moved to follow but found her way blocked by an outstretched wing. “The bridge is for officers only, blackwing—learn your place.”

Flurry glowered at him and was about to retort when Oakheart intervened.

“Shipmaster, Ms. Flurry Heart is here under my invitation. I suggest you let her through,” he said sternly.

“I will not foul the bridge of his lordship’s carrier with the likes of her,” Downdraft sneered, raising his nose haughtily at her before returning his gaze to Oak. “And you will know your place as well, dirt pony. You’re only here because of his lordship’s gener—”

“Enough of this!” Flurry exclaimed, her patience finally giving out.

With a fluid movement, Flurry slammed her hoof into the bulkhead behind the shipmaster’s head. With a startled jerk, Downdraft stumbled against the wall, turning a fearful eye toward the looming alicorn.

“Now you listen to me, you pompous sycophant,” Flurry growled, leaning in close to him. “The only reason you’re still able to eat solid food right now is that the captain here doesn’t appreciate me removing your teeth in his presence.” She looked over to Oakheart and gave him a sly wink. “I suggest you cooperate and let me through, so we can get underway. And if I hear you haven’t been following his orders, I’m going to be extremely upset. My enchantment has no restriction at the moment. You would be wise to remember that.”

Downdraft gulped as the implication sank in. “O-of course, r-right this way.”

He scurried past Oakheart and disappeared into the bridge.

“Welcome to the Flurry Heart style of negotiation,” she announced proudly, fluffing her wings.

She had been playing nice for far too long, so it felt good to let off some steam. If Merry’s cronies thought she was going to just roll over for them, they were in for a nasty surprise.

The earth pony gawked at her with a raised eyebrow. “You never cease to amaze me, Ms. Flurry.”

She smiled. “I aim to please.”

The bridge was a large dome, covered in projectors that were currently giving a panoramic view of the outside. Several open balconies on the upper levels wrapped around the dome, each dotted with crew stations. At the rear of the bridge was the navigator’s station, where an imperious-looking unicorn mare sat glaring at them.

There were two flight couches on the port side, currently occupied with crew members preparing the ship for departure. Impressively, it only required these two in order to get this massive ship moving. There was no need for the rows of flight couches and consoles like those seen on Alliance ships.

On the starboard side, the room was dominated by an enormous captain’s chair that was more like a throne than a tactical command center. Marble sculptures of pegasi mares sat near either side of the chair, heads bowed in reverence with golden vines and plants wrapped around the throne. A plethora of cushions festooned the seat to ensure its bloated master was comfortable.

Behind this throne was the heart of the carrier’s flight operations. Holographic projections would relay all of the carrier’s sensor data, as well as the information gathered from their flight group, creating a three-dimensional view of the tactical situation.

A few more officers stood, glaring at Flurry and Oakheart as they approached. She recognised a few from her branding ceremony, their styled manes and embellished uniforms unpleasant reminders of the event. She felt her gorge rise just looking at them, and her eyes narrowed as her gaze shifted from one to the next.

“Shipmaster, why have you allowed one of our lord’s pets on the bridge?” a stallion asked.

Flurry eyed Downdraft carefully as the pegasus swallowed and adjusted his collar.

“S-she has permission to be here. She is part of Captain Oakheart’s staff,” Downdraft stammered, hurriedly trotting over to his compatriot.

“That dirt pony?” the stallion sneered, only for him to pale considerably as Downdraft whispered something in his ear. He then cast a nervous glance at Flurry and gulped, his wings trembling. “U-um I mean, welcome aboard the Glorium, Captain Oakheart.”

“Thank you. I hope that we can all work together amicably during this mission,” Oakheart replied.

“Or else,” Flurry added.

“Of course, captain,” Downdraft replied, getting vigorous nods from the others.

“Excellent. I’d like to review the navigation schedule before we depart,” Oakheart said, a slight smirk cracking that professional mask as he trotted up to join them.

“Why captain, are you enjoying yourself?” Flurry chuckled to herself as she stepped up to join him at the tactical plotting table.

Swan Song gazed out of the viewport into the swirling immaterium as the Glorium ploughed its way through Mirrorspace at a steady pace. The flight control office at the bow of the ship gave her a front-seat view of the etherium building up on the Glorium’s bow like a slowly creeping frost. The room itself was, thankfully, quiet.

When operations were in full swing, this place would be bustling with activity, handling the launches and landings of the carrier’s air wing. While the ship was underway and their ships were all parked up, it was quite peaceful, the consoles and control stations lying empty. It was one of the few places a blackwing could walk without drawing the ire of the nobles.

Their launch from the station had been an unremarkable affair, not even drawing the attention of the Alliance flotilla that was parked outside. The warships had no idea what notorious cargo they were carrying and had done nothing to impede their ship’s passage.

Riptide and his squadron had escorted them for as far as they could before returning to their patrol route around the station. The stallion had been stuck on patrol outside of Harmony when the Fleeting Dream showed up, and he had been chomping at the bit to get involved. Unfortunately, somepony had to stay behind to maintain the patrols around the station while she and Blitz were away.

A smile crept onto Swan’s muzzle as she remembered him waggling his wings at them before he had to turn back. She would have to grab a few rounds of drinks from the distillery for them when they got back.

Swan let out a sigh, feeling weariness tugging at her, both emotional and physical. She hadn’t had any respite in the past eighteen hours, and she was exhausted. And on top of that, ever since Flurry Heart had arrived, she had been jumping from one crisis to the next without even a moment to recover.

She still couldn’t decide what she should make of this whole thing. All at once, everything had been ripped away and then restored again by the same mare, who now had given up everything herself to buy their involvement for this mission to save her cousin. Was it simple expedience or perhaps something more that motivated the strange mare?

Without a doubt, when she had looked into the alicorn’s eyes, she could see an earnest desire to help. Those were not the eyes of somepony who was faking it for a short term gain. In her heart, Swan wanted to believe that Last Shadow—no, Flurry Heart would help them. Still, forgetting all that history was a whole other problem.

She scratched her mane with a hoof, letting out an angry groan. The effort of trying to figure this whole mess out made her head ache. Eventually, she realised that the only way she was going to find any reprieve would be to speak with Flurry Heart again.

The door slid open, and Swan turned to face the newcomer.

“Hey, Swan, I’ve been lookin for ya,” Blitz called. “We’ve been called in for a briefing. The rest of the squadron leaders are there as well.”

Duty calls.

“Okay, let’s see what rock-brained plan our dirt pony captain has come up with,” she said with a sigh, taking to the air with a gentle flap of her wings.

“Come on, Swan. He’s been pretty straight with us so far,” he said with a sigh.

“I know, I know,” she conceded. “He’s not as bad as Merry or Downdraft, that’s for sure. But it’s the principle of it. A dirt pony in command of pegasi?” She shuddered at the thought.

She was still trying to figure out how Oakheart had managed to convince Merry to go along with him taking command. Earth ponies had little grasp of pegasus tactics, as they preferred to huddle up behind their guns. They had no instinct for flight. An Alliance ship was not so much flown as it was a heavily armored building that was moved about in zero-G.

Still, anypony was better than Downdraft.

“Earth ponies, zebras, alicorns? Who else is going to join this mission?” Blitz exclaimed with a chuckle as they headed down towards the hangars.

“I know what you mean. It’s been a hell of a day,” she said as she worked her neck. “I’m not sure I can take any more surprises.”

“Speaking of…” he began, scratching his chin. “What’s the plan with Last Shadow? Some of the others have been asking about it.”

Swan let out a heavy sigh. “We play along for now. We need her just as much as she needs us, at the moment. What happens after that? I guess we’ll have to see.”

“Last Shadow in our aerie… I’m still wrapping my head around it,” he said, a playful smile forming on his muzzle, which gave Swan a bad feeling. “Still, she seems nice after you get past the ‘mess with me and I use your head as a bowling ball’ vibe she has goin’ on at times. And she ain’t hard on the eyes, if you catch my drift.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Really? Last Shadow joins our aerie—the most wanted mare in the Republic—and that’s your first thought?”

He shrugged. “Our lives are short, Swanny. Gotta enjoy it while you can, and besides, I’d love to get my face trapped between those thighs.” He gave a lurid grin before abruptly looking away. “Though, she ain’t a patch on you, Swan.”

“Come on, don’t even joke about things like that!” she said. “I need your head in the game, not off chasing tail.”

His ears tilted back. “R-right,” he stammered, but the confidence quickly returned to his voice. “Don’t worry, it won’t be a problem. Something to aim for though, right? A guy’s gotta have hope.”

“Keep dreaming, stud,” she said.

“Yeah,” he sighed, his ears going completely flat. “Keep dreaming.”

Swan shook her head, and they continued on until they arrived at one of the Glorium’s briefing rooms.

“Best faces for the chicks, mother hen,” Blitz said as they landed outside the door.

“Urgh, will you stop calling me that?” she groaned.

“After that reaction? No way,” he said before opening the door and gesturing for her to go inside first. “After you.”

“Thanks,” she said, giving him a scowl.

Inside, her chosen pilots were already sitting on the tiered cloud chairs with her most experienced flight leaders seated at the front. Twenty four in total, these were the best combat pilots her aerie had to offer.

Most gathered here were ponies she had known since flight school, but she had rarely seen them since coming to Harmony. Because the more experienced pilots had to be spread out to act as flight leaders for the younger members of the aerie, they often missed each other due to their shifts. One benefit of this mission was that she could pool them together once again.

Any lingering doubt she might have had about their feelings towards her evaporated as they all rose and saluted her in unison.

She returned the salute. “At ease. It’s good to see you all together again, my friends. Thank you all for volunteering.” She gave them a bow, feeling her heart swell.

In truth, she had been a little frightened when she had asked her aerie to join her on the mission. There were still a lot of mixed feelings about Last Shadow joining them. And considering her own failings with the alicorn, she wasn’t sure how many of them would still follow her after being so soundly humiliated.

“You know, Swan, I’m a bit insulted you didn’t ask any of us to join you on your little bout against Last Shadow,” Contrail called from amongst the bomber pilots at the back. The steel-grey stallion with a wispy white mane made his way down to join her.

He was the leader of Tomahawk squadron, the aerie’s bomber group, and had been asked to join them at Oakheart’s insistence. Swan was curious what kind of threat needed that amount of firepower, considering this was just a rescue operation.

“Well, next time there’s a certain-death mission on the cards, I know who to call,” Swan said, giving him a hoof bump.

He laughed. “It’s a date then. Somepony has to pull your tail out of the fire, and it sure won’t be Blitz.”

“Hey!” Blitz cried.

“Heard you got your flank spanked, Blitz. By a mare as well. I didn’t think you were into that kind of thing,” Contrail grinned, fluffing his wings.

“Pfft, please, as if you could have done any better,” Blitz dismissed with a hoof wave.

“That a challenge, Blitz?”

“Like you have the balls to accept even if it was,” Blitz growled as the two stallions squared up.

Swan just rolled her eyes. They were always like this when they got together. While those two were washing down the decks with testosterone, she trotted over to the others.

After spotting Cinnamon Swirl waving at her, Swan trotted over to join in. Beside her sat a purple stallion named Wind Whisper, her wingmate of several years now. He gave her a typically quiet nod as she approached.

“Hey, Swan,” Cinnamon said, shifting nervously in her seat. “Thank you for asking me to join the mission. I know I’m not the best—”

Swan placed a hoof on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t have asked you if you weren’t good enough, Cinnamon.”

Cinnamon gave a weak smile. “Are you okay? You’ve been through a lot today.”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “Well, as fine as can be expected.”

“If you need us for anything, Swan, we’re here,” Wind Whisper said quietly.

“Thank you both,” she said, giving them a warm smile. Looking up to her gathered friends, she saw nods of encouragement and smiles. In that moment, she wondered how she ever doubted her aerie.

Suddenly, the door hissed open, making everypony look to the entrance.

“We’re finally here! Those pillow-stuffers really know how to make a convoluted ship layout,” a kirin mare announced as she strode confidently into the room at the head of a group of earth ponies and a zebra.

Swan had heard of the Kirin race in one of the many strange stories about Equus during her academy years, but she had never seen even a picture, let alone one in the flesh.

The mare towered over them, her legs and body bulging with taut muscle. Her chestnut coat was mostly hidden beneath a figure-hugging black undersuit, her voluminous rusty red mane encompassing her head and practically bursting from the chest of her suit. Her tail was longer, more like a lion’s than a pony’s, and it swished around like a whip. Yet probably the oddest thing was a strip of what looked like green scales running along her snout! Her horn also wasn’t like a unicorn’s; it was smooth and black, curving up her head and splitting into two points at the top.

“These are the bunch that are going to be watching our flanks out there? Celestia save us!” the kirin mare said with a contemptuous snort.

“Indeed,” a snooty orange earth pony mare said from behind her, brushing her permed purple mane with a hoof.

Swan let out a snort. “You got something to say?”

She trotted right up to the kirin, standing almost snout to snout despite their size difference. Blitz and Contrail attempted to join her but were promptly intercepted by the other members of the kirin’s squad.

“Looky, looky, the little pillow-stuffer has some bark,” the kirin said with a laugh. “Hey, I know you, you’re the little filly that got her tail whooped by Flurry Heart.”

Swan blushed, but held her ground. “Yeah, that’s me, though last time I checked, you security pukes didn’t fare any better.”

The kirin raised an eyebrow for a moment, before letting out a bellowing laugh, a tiny spark of flame dancing above her horn, “You’re alright, kid.”

“Come on Firey, stop bullying the poor mare,” Chief Flintlock called, stepping between them and giving the kirin a look. “Or else I’ll tell everypony your real name.”

The kirin bristled. “There’s no need for that, chief.” She reached out and gave Swan a light pat on the shoulder that made her stagger. “See, we’re all good.”

The thestral gave an easy smile. “Sorry, Lieutenant Swan, I hope these idiots haven’t been giving you too much trouble.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” she replied, giving him a salute.

She’d had a few run-ins with the security chief in the past after some fights with the earth pony work crews had gotten out of hoof. A level of bias towards the earth ponies was to be expected, but the thestral had shown himself to be a fair and reasonable judge in their encounters thus far.

“Let me introduce you to the Magic and Weapons Squad. This is Fire Hawk,” Flint said, gesturing to the kirin beside him. “Don’t let her attitude fool you. She’s a good pony, just… don’t get her angry. Seriously don’t, it’s a real pain trying to buff out the scorch marks.”

Fire Hawk grinned devilishly, her tail flicking from side to side.

Scorch marks? Swan gulped.

“The prissy one over there is Princess,” he said, pointing to the orange mare, who was currently examining her hooves with disinterest.

“Who are you calling prissy,” Princess huffed haughtily.

“Just ignore her,” Flint said.

“Yeah, daddy hasn’t given her her allowance yet,” Fire Hawk teased, earning chuckles from the other ponies of their troop.

“Screw you, tinderbox,” Princess hissed.

“Any time, anywhere.”

A smaller magenta mare giggled at the two mares squabbling, her scruffy blue mane seeming like an untamed animal.

“That’s Echo. Take a wild guess what her talent is,” Flint said.

Swan looked to the mare with a frown. “Surprise me.”

“Surprise me,” Echo repeated, her voice a perfect match of Swan Song’s.

“Whoa!” Blitz exclaimed as more of the pilots came down to inspect the newcomers.

“I do cutiemark parties on request,” Echo grinned, giving a subtle bow, her accent not one Swan was familiar with.

“Cutiemark? Oh! One of those butt stickers you Equus ponies have,” Blitz grinned, his voice switching to the style Swan was familiar with whenever he saw a mare he liked. “So what’s yours?”

“Maybe I’ll show you some time,” Echo chuckled coyly.

Does that stallion have any self-control at all?! Swan lamented internally.

Flint sighed and pointed to the last of their group, a stoic zebra stallion with several golden ear clamps. “That over there is Preacher. He’s the spiritualist of our little group.”

The zebra bowed his head, uttering something in a strange dialect.

“What’s he doing?” she whispered to Flint.

“Giving you a blessing,” Flint replied with a shrug. “Or he could be... we’re never quite sure. It’s sorta like a good luck charm for us.”

Swan gingerly nodded her head, wondering just what she had accepted. “Umm, thanks.”

The zebra smiled gently. “I hope fortune favours our mission together. I am proud to have you watching over us as we go into battle.”

“We won’t let you down,” she assured, and she meant it. These ponies were relying on them as an escort, and she wasn’t going to disappoint.

Swan looked to see other squadron leaders chatting with the new arrivals. It surprised her how quickly they warmed to Flint’s squad, ranks and positions forgotten.

Suddenly, Flint gave Swan a nudge and gestured towards the door.

“Squad, attention! Officer on deck!” Flint yelled, making everypony snap to attention out of reflex.

Swan followed his gaze toward the door, where Oakheart and Flurry Heart were standing. She straightened, giving them a salute, which the earth pony then returned.

“Thank you, chief,” Oakheart said. “Now, everypony take a seat.”

They all scurried back to their seats while Flint’s squad stared bemused at the cloud chairs.

“How am I meant to sit on this?” Princess grumbled.

“Just sit your plot down, would you?” Fire Hawk hissed as the lights fell and a large holographic projection appeared in front of them.

Swan watched as Flurry Heart sat down amongst the marines, giving a few hoof bumps to them as she did so.

Above the audience, a holographic image formed, taking up most of the room. It was a three-dimensional representation of a dense asteroid field, with a very unusual looking capital ship at its centre. Swan had never seen this class of ship before, and her first thought was that it seemed out of proportion with the scale grid overlaying the scene. In addition to this ship were multiple points of interest, most notably the icon of a nearby wreckage field as well as a cruiser-class contact some distance off to the side, with an arrow indicating it was off the view at this magnification.

“This is the ECS Orion,” Oakheart began, his voice booming across the room. “She’s a Commonwealth vessel en route to Harmony station, where she will be outfitted for an extended classified mission. From the data packet we have been provided by Ms. Flurry Heart, the Orion stopped in the Huerth system to answer a distress call from a civilian mining operation. It turned out to be a houndrathi ambush. While the Orion successfully destroyed the attackers, she blew out her Nexus cores in the fight and is now running on CAPS with only four hours remaining before total life support failure. She’s now completely disabled, and there are over seven hundred personnel aboard counting on us. Those are the stakes, people.”

Everypony straightened to listen, and what little chatter was in the air quickly faded to silence.

The holographic view then zoomed out until the previous field of view was a tenth its former size. At this scale, the cruiser contact came into view. It was marked, “Unknown: Elderberry.”

“You’ll notice this cruiser on the scene, sitting outside weapons range. Sensor analysis concludes this is an older Alliance Elderberry-class cruiser, possibly modified. The cruiser has not answered hails, nor does she bear an IFF signature. With her intentions unknown, we have to assume the worst until we can get proper intel. We’ve been trying unsuccessfully to raise the Orion on Mirrorcomm, so it could be she’s being jammed.”

“Honestly, they didn’t even have the power to send out a proper signal,” Flurry pointed out. “Nyx had to hook herself directly to the transmitter just for us to talk. There’s no way you’re going to get a response at this point—especially this far out.”

“Right. So with time against us,” Oak continued, “phase one of the operation will involve only our fastest ships. Sabre squadron will escort the Fleeting Dream to where the Orion is disabled. Your insertion point will be here.”

The tactical display zoomed in close to the Orion again, where a green reticle hovered nearby in space.

“Once you arrive on-site, the Fleeting Dream will serve as a communications relay back to the Glorium. At that point, we will direct the engagement from here.”

“With respect, sir,” Swan interjected, “we only have one capital ship. Even if the fighters could get there first, we’d be stuck in Mirrorspace until you arrive to jump us out. And I also need to point out how hazardous it would be to open up a jump point right in the thick of this mess,” she expressed while waving a hoof around the room. “We’re likely to slam straight into an asteroid as we exit.”

Oakheart deferred to Flurry Heart, who was standing beside him at the front of the room with that creepy plushie still clinging to her jacket like some kind of misshapen parrot.

Flurry cleared her throat and took a step forward. “Don’t worry, I’ll thread the needle for us nice and safe. I’ve done this plenty of times,” she stated.

“If you think you can, then fine, but what about the missing capital ship? Are you going to tell me that pirate ship of yours has its own jump drive?”

After a pause, Flurry glanced around the room at nothing in particular while nodding her head slightly. “Um, yes, I… suppose that’s correct.” She then locked her gaze directly on Swan’s, a slight smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

Murmurs spread around the room at the revelation that a corvette-sized ship was actually jump-capable.

This was absurd. Swan could feel her ears heating up. “What? And when exactly were you planning on telling us this, L—Flurry?”

“It’s not something I’m fond of sharing,” Flurry remarked casually.

“Yes, so… the Fleeting Dream will lead Sabre squadron on the quickest route through Mirrorspace,” Oak quickly resumed. “Additionally, and I need you to be prepared for this, Sabre’s objective is a one-way trip until the Glorium arrives for refueling. We have calculated the optimal launch window so that you have enough fuel. Once you arrive, you will have to hold your own until we get there some thirty minutes later. This shouldn’t be a problem versus a cruiser. Just stay outside her point-defense flak zone and make sure she doesn’t get any fighters out—mercs have been known to strap a few onto anything with a secure hull.

A commotion roused among the Sabre pilots. “Are you kidding me?” somepony said. Swan’s emotions boiled to the surface.

“Sorry, what? Now you’re expecting us to put our lives in the hooves of— to trust that she can get us to the right spot, a half-hour ahead of the Glorium, jump out of Mirrorspace in one piece, and hold our own against who knows what opposition while running on fumes until you all show up? Am I hearing this right?”

“I understand your concerns, lieutenant,” Flurry stated calmly while looking Swan straight in the eye. “But time is our enemy here, and we can’t afford to wait for the carrier to make her way to the Orion. We must act as soon as possible. I have a lot of experience with this type of thing. I’ll get us there in one piece, I swear by the Winds.”

Swan wanted to reject her proposal outright, but there was something in the alicorn’s eyes that made her pause. It was a confidence, a conviction she had rarely seen in another pony. Her whole body practically radiated it. This was not merely her opinion; it was practically a statement of fact.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said. “Continue, captain.”

“Thank you, lieutenant,” Oak said with a nod. “After jumping in, Sabre squadron will secure the space around the Orion and attempt to make contact with the cruiser to verify her intentions. You’ll provide cover to ensure Ms. Flurry Heart is able to deliver Chief Flintlock and his squads, who will then secure the ship from the inside. It’s quite possible that she’s already been boarded.”

“What kind of hostiles might we find aboard the ship, sir?” Fire Hawk chimed in.

“We suspect Syndicate, so most likely mercs and feral changelings,” Oak replied. “This is why you and Princess are there with the big guns.”

“I am the big gun,” Fire Hawk quipped, stirring up random chuckles among her squad.

“Depending on the level of resistance,” Oak continued, “once the Glorium arrives, we’ll deploy Falchion, Rapier, and Tomahawk squadrons. The bombers will take out the cruiser’s weapons, should she prove hostile, with the interceptor corvettes providing cover in case any supporting ships have arrived on the scene.”

“Seems a bit overkill,” Princess commented. “You sure this much firepower is even necessary? A Houndrathi ambush and an obsolete Alliance cruiser… Feels like amateur night, to be honest.”

“The Director was unwilling to take the risk, corporal,” Oak replied. “Recovering the Orion successfully is of the highest priority to her, and recovering her captain is a very high-value rescue.”

“A very high-value rescue,” Echo repeated, matching his tone in a way Swan found a touch creepy.

“Once everything is secure, we will conduct emergency repairs and the Glorium will provide auxiliary power for the Orion’s life support while she is towed back to Harmony. I’m sending deployment data to your holo-braces, so I suggest you review it when you can.”

A soft beep from Oakheart’s holo-brace drew his attention, and his shoulders stiffened slightly. “Now, an important guest wishes to say a few words.”

Everypony straightened in their seats, and any murmurs that had been passing between Swan’s pilots were quickly snuffed out. The hologram of the asteroid field vanished and was replaced by a projection of a well-dressed pony, standing near the central podium.

There was an audible gasp from the front of the room, and all eyes turned to see Flurry Heart, whose wings trembled uncontrollably at her sides. Her eyes were wide as saucers, transfixed on the image before her.

“May I introduce you all to the Director of the Harmony Initiative, Twilight Sparkle.” Oakheart announced.

Swan had only seen this elusive alicorn once, when she and her aerie had first arrived on the station. She seemed like an ordinary pony at first—ordinary, until one took in the wings, the horn and that subtle feeling that she wasn’t quite a pony any longer, but something more.

Swan Song remembered her meeting with this alicorn vividly. The mare had been warm and welcoming, like the first sun after a cold night. She had an energy and enthusiasm which could only inspire those around her.

Yet, the alicorn that appeared before them today was different. Her ears were flattened and she looked hesitant as she gazed across the presentation stage to where Flurry Heart stood, bristling with emotion.

The air became thick as the pair locked eyes with each other, an unspoken conversation passing between them in those few seconds. The effect on Flurry Heart was immediate. She jumped to her hooves, her wings outstretched, like she was about to lunge at the image before her. Her whole body trembled with rage, raw energy emanating out of the alicorn, causing everypony’s ears to pop from the change in air pressure. Swan could even feel a vibration pass up her body through the deck as the very room trembled.

Then, as quickly as it had started, the room calmed down as Flurry Heart appeared to relax. She looked to Twilight one last time, giving the mare a snort before trotting outside, leaving the alicorn visibly shaken.

Twilight swallowed, her composure returning swiftly. “I apologize for that. My niece and I have a bit of bad blood between us.”

“A bit more than bad blood,” Fire Hawk commented.

“Can it, Fiery,” Flint warned.

“Quite alright, Chief Flintlock,” Twilight said with a sigh. The alicorn took a breath before continuing. “Now, I’m afraid my time is limited, so I’ll simply say thank you. Thank you all for undertaking this mission, not just as a Director, but as a mother afraid for her daughter.”

Emotion rolled off her voice like a wave, her lips trembling as a slight crack formed in her mask of composure. “It brings me great pride to see so many ponies of different tribes and nations, working together to help their fellow pony.” The alicorn bowed her head. “My prayers are with you all, and I know you won’t let me down. Good luck.”

And with that, her image disappeared and light returned to the room.

A somber silence blanketed the briefing room, with nopony willing to break it.

Chapter 10 - Suffering the Wait

The hangar of the Glorium had fallen quiet after the frenetic activity of earlier. Swan’s fighters were gathered around their respective launch tubes, while the others sat waiting to be moved into position.

The Dream sat ostracized from the rest, close to the outer hangar doors. A few of the deck crew trotted by, but most gave the ship a wide berth.

From her perch atop the Dream’s starboard wing, Flurry gazed out at the expanse of the hangar bay with disinterest. She had been sitting up there for the past hour, trying to distract herself from the shock of what she saw in the briefing room.

Twilight.

Just the thought of that mare was like hot coals being dropped onto her heart. Flurry’s wings bristled uncontrollably at her sides, and she could feel the familiar searing rage lingering beneath the surface.

Flurry had wasted all this time playing Twilight’s games, no doubt being watched and reported on by her stooge Oakheart. How could “the director” just hide away in the shadows while Nyx, her own daughter, was in trouble? Why all the secrecy? Why did Oakheart play along with this charade?

The questions kept repeating in her mind over and over again, feeding her frustration. She should be resting for the battle ahead, but her restless mind gave her no respite. There was, of course, an obvious answer, but she didn’t want to admit it to herself.

Whammy lay in front of her, his body tilting to one side with the curve of the wing.

“Nopony asked your opinion,” Flurry grumbled, resting her head on her forelegs.

The plushie simply sat there.

“Don’t defend her, this is exactly how she likes to do things,” she snapped. “All smoke and mirrors while she pulls at the strings from the shadows. She must be laughing her ass off at me right now.”

At Whammy’s impassive stare, she relented. “I know she’s got to be worried about Nyx, but she had no right messing with me like that. If she had just let me do my thing, we’d be with Nyx by now.”

She sighed. “You’re probably right—if I was Oakheart, I’d have been wary as well.” She let out a snort as she looked into his expressionless bobble eyes. “Okay! Fine! I admit it. If I’d known Twi was involved, I would have caused more trouble for everypony and slowed everything up.”

Whammy seemed satisfied, at least. One of his antennae shifted in the breeze flowing through the hangar, suggesting he was.

Damn that plushie. He always takes their side, she grumbled to herself.

Still, he was right. She couldn’t let her feud with Twilight get in the way of saving Nyx. For now, they were enemies with a common goal.

The thought brought a sad smile to her face. Just like me and Swan Song.

She looked down to see a few of Swan’s aerie mingling with Flint’s marines on the flight deck below.

The mission to help Nyx had brought together quite the disparate bunch of former enemies and even volunteers from Equus. Perhaps there was something to this Harmony business after all.

With the mission planning over, and all their individual roles studied, there was little else for either side to do. The deck crews had all their ships ready while the marines’ equipment was checked and prepared.

In the end, curiosity had gotten the better of the younger pegasi, and in ones and twos, they had gathered around the open ramp of the Dream. Even Swan Song had eventually joined them, watching while her partner engaged the kirin in a friendly hoof wrestle.

Flurry could have gone down there to join them, but she wasn’t in the mood for more fearful stares. She hadn’t exactly made a great impression with her little display in the briefing room, and she really needed some alone time. It was better to just watch from up here.

Things were getting a bit lively down there, with both groups rallying around their prospective contender.

“Come on, Firey, you’ve got him!” A magenta-coloured earth pony shouted excitedly, her strong Manehattan accent easily recognisable over the crowd. “Show that pillow-stuffer who’s best!”

“Come on, Blitz! I’ve got twenty bits on this!” One pegasus shouted.

Blitz was straining, sweat running from his brow, while the kirin had a predatory grin on her face. Her tail was coiled around his hind leg like a snake, evidently trying to throw him off his game.

Flurry couldn’t help but smirk at the mare’s ploy. She would have to remember that one next time she visited Broken Bow.

“Looking a bit red-faced there, champ,” Fire goaded.

“You think your little tricks are going to distract me, but you’ve got another thing coming!” Blitz growled, making another attempt to force the mare’s foreleg down.

“Aww, I do so love it when stallions try their best,” Fire taunted, her tail creeping up higher.

Blitz tensed and then let out a tiny squeak before a dreamy expression formed on his face. His grip slackened, and with a victorious whinny, Fire slammed his hoof down to cheers from the crowd.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Blitz cried.

“You enjoyed it didn’t you?” Fire asked, sticking her tongue out.

“I-I want a rematch, no tricks,” Blitz demanded, his cheeks a bright shade of red.

“I can do this all day, stud.”

Flurry’s eyes turned to Swan Song, who had been watching the spectacle from a distance. The pegasus had been talking quietly with her pilots during most of it, huddled together, away from the main group. Given the fearful looks that drifted up in Flurry’s direction, she had no doubt what their talk was about.

She sighed softly, looking down at Whammy. “One step forward, two steps back, eh Whammy?”

Her little display had no doubt spooked everypony present, the pegasi worst of all. Getting them to see beyond Last Shadow and trust her was always going to be an uphill battle, and now she’d gone and made the climb that much harder.

Swan Song looked up to her and their eyes met, the pegasus wearing a deep frown on her face. There was uncertainty, maybe even a little fear in those eyes—the worries of an officer going into combat. Flurry had seen it a hundred times on the eve of a hundred battles. She flashed the pegasus a smile, but the mare simply looked away.

“She’s a stubborn one,” Flurry commented, only to scowl at Whammy. “Shut up, we are not alike at all. I still don’t know if she’ll try and put a bullet in my skull once this is over. I’d like to think not, but ponies always find a way to disappoint you.”

She rested her chin on her forelegs. “She’s been through a lot—they all have—they deserve a little helping hoof.”

Whammy simply sat there.

She grinned mischievously. “Oh, bringing Merry Weather down a peg or two is the icing on the cake. But first, we have to deal with the immediate problem.”

Her gaze drifted back to her black-stained wings. Even now, she could feel that invisible mass pressing against her magical core.

“Nyx’ll be able to crack this spell, I know it,” she continued. “And once she has, we can help everypony else.”

She shifted, knocking the plushie onto his side and rattling his googly eyes.

“If she can’t, I’ll just have to improvise,” she muttered, letting out a snort. “And no, I’m not asking Twilight for help.”

Her eyes narrowed. “It’ll be a cold day in Tartarus before I ask her for anything. I’ll sort this out myself, one way or another.”

Whammy’s eyes eventually settled and fixed on her.

“If nothing works…?”

A cold shiver went through her body at the mere thought of being at that bloated fool’s mercy, paraded around like some mystical beast to entertain his lackeys before being offered up on a plate to the Emperor of the Republic. Face to face with Stratos, after all this time? She shuddered at the thought. Then there’d be the nice public show trial for the holo-vids, followed by execution. Maybe they would get Swan in to pull the trigger.

Flurry shook her head and dismissed those dark thoughts. “It won’t come to that. Nyx will fix this, I know she will.”

That was, of course, if the mare would even speak to her. Nyx wouldn’t hesitate to help any other pony in need, but helping her? A part of her doubted the alicorn would be so generous.

A thick knot of anxiety formed in the pit of her stomach at the thought of meeting her cousin again. Her emotions rose up and crashed against her like storm-driven waves beating against a cliff.

She reached out and pulled Whammy close. “What should I say to her, Whammy?” She squeezed him tightly. “It’s not like I can turn back the clock to how things used to be.”

She felt a soft tear trickle run down her cheeks before chuckling to herself. “You’re right, we’ve still got to help rescue her first. There’s plenty of time for worrying about all of this once everypony is safe and sound.”

Wiping her eyes, she arched her back and stretched her wings.

“You know, maybe you’re right. Moping up here isn’t helping me right now,” she stated, fluffing her wings. “Maybe I should get in on the hoof wrestling action? Stir the pot a bit between Swan and Blitz, am I right?”

Whammy’s antennae were still partly pressed against his head by the force of her hug.

“Pfft, you’re no fun.”

She was about to hop off the wing of the Dream when she felt a change within the carrier. The gentle rumble of the engines shifted pitch, becoming deeper. That meant the ship was speeding up.

Her ears perked as the ship’s PA system crackled to life and a stallion’s voice boomed over the hangar. “Action stations, action stations, set condition one throughout the ship. This is not a drill. I repeat…”

The quiet calm of the flight deck was shattered in an instant by the alert. The effect on the crew was instantaneous, the pegasi leaping into the air and heading to their ships and stations. Swan and her pilots rushed to the fighters and began donning their flight gear.

What had happened? Was Nyx under attack? A hundred questions fought to be heard inside her head, and a hundred terrible scenarios spawned from them. Her heart began to pound in her chest as fear of the unknown threatened to overtake her.

She had to go. She had to go now.

Flurry rushed towards the forward airlock of the Dream and went inside. Lights flickered on as the ship stirred from her slumber, the automated systems reacting to Flurry’s presence.

“Prepare for departure,” she ordered, tapping a few commands into her holo-brace.

“Affirmative. Beginning Nexus core ignition sequence,” the Dream’s golem responded, a faint hum beginning to reverberate through the ship. “Pilot link established.”

She felt the slight pull on her thaumatic reserves as the ship’s Nexus core began drawing power from her horn. Her body moved on autopilot, going through the same motions she’d done a thousand times before. At least by focusing on preparing her ship, her emotions were kept in check, though they were still screaming from the back of her mind.

As she trotted down the corridor of the upper deck, her holo-brace buzzed.

Tapping on it, a small window appeared before her eyes with Oakheart at its centre. In the background, she could see the bridge crew already at their battle stations.

“What’s going on, captain?” she asked.

“We finally picked up the Orion’s distress beacon a few minutes ago,” he said, his voice calm and professional. “But it was cut off almost immediately.”

“And?” Her voice trembled with emotion.

“The signal was very weak, but we received a data packet indicating they’re under attack,” he replied grimly. “The communications officer is currently trying to clean up the sensor data for us, but it’s heavily corrupted.”

“Then I’m preparing the Dream for launch,” Flurry announced, heading quickly towards the flight deck.

“Ms. Flurry, wait.”

“No. No more delays. I have to get there now,” she said, desperation creeping into her voice.

“I understand, but we’re still an hour from our launch point,” he explained. “Sabre squadron won’t—”

The display vanished as she cut off her connection with Glorium comms, a frustrated hiss escaping her muzzle. She couldn’t just sit here while Nyx was under attack! She had given up so much already, and now, she was about to lose everything just when her cousin was within reach.

Flurry cycled through the squadron comms channels she’d been given, prior to the briefing, until she found the one for Swan Song.

“Lieutenant, do you read me?” she called.

There was a brief delay before Swan Song responded. “Yes, I copy.” She sounded surprised, a mixture of fear and anticipation in her voice as she spoke.

“How long before you’re ready to launch?” Flurry asked, keeping her own voice level so as not to alarm the pegasus.

“Wait, I thought we had over an hour before we were supposed to launch.”

“It’s just…” Flurry began, trying to sound innocent. “Something’s come up. Oakheart said we need to leave early. Can you make it happen?”

“What? No. We’ve got just enough flight reserves for the trip plus a half-hour engagement at best. If we leave early, we’ll be running on sparks when we get there and be useless if there’s a fight.”

Damn it, Flurry cursed to herself. “Alright. Thanks anyway, Swan. I’ll be in touch. Flurry out.”

She slammed a hoof into the nearest bulkhead, her wings bristling as her frustration boiled over. It was just one thing after another with these ponies! Now physics was conspiring to get in the way of her machinations!

She cast a glance at Whammy, whose eye wobbled in disappointment.

“Oh, shut up,” she grumbled.

Flurry pointedly ignored the frantic flashing on her holo-brace as she silently fumed.

“Ms. Flurry, please answer your holo-brace,” the muffled voice of Oakheart reverberated from the Glorium’s PA system outside.

She looked down at the accursed device for a second, letting the stubborn earth pony stew for a moment before answering. “What.”

“Ah, have you got it all out of your system? Or should I wait a few minutes and we can try again,” Oakheart asked with the weary tone of a parent taking their filly out of time-out.

“I’m listening.”

“I may have a solution to our launch window problem,” he said. “If you’re willing to wait and let me explain.”

“Fiiiine.”

“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” he said before adding, “Once I find the elevator.”

Flurry let out a sigh, feeling some of her anger subside. She still wanted to blow a hole in the Glorium and speed off towards the Orion, but the urge was less pressing. She cast a glance at Whammy, whose pupils had finally stopped spinning in their plastic sockets.

“Are you happy? I’m waiting for him, okay?” she huffed.

Whammy sat there smugly on her shoulder.

“Okay, okay, I’ll call Swan again,” she grumbled.

“Lieutenant Swan, do you read me?”

Another delay and then the comms clicked on with an angry sigh. “I copy. What is it?”

“I just spoke with Oakheart. He has an idea that could buy us some more time. Can you get the deck chief on the line? Also, can you have him bring Rapier squadron up to ready status as well? I’ve got a bad feeling we’re going to need them with us.”

“Did you actually speak with him this time?” came Swan’s sardonic response.

“I overreacted, okay?” Flurry said. “Listen, they’ve picked up the Orion’s distress beacon. They’re definitely under attack. I don’t think we can wait.”

“Yeah, but Flurry, we need to know what we’re up against. You know that.”

“Oak says the comms team is working on it. But he seemed pretty sure we can launch early. Can you be ready?”

“Yeah. I mean, no. I mean… Flurry, I’m sorry but it’s just not going to work. You saw the launch window. You know we just don’t have the CAPS for that kind of operation.”

Flurry wanted to blurt out some kind of irrational reason why it would work, but she knew Swan was right.

“Let’s… okay, let’s just assume that Oak has found some miracle that can make it work. Can you be ready?”

More hesitation. She could hear Swan speaking softly with somepony nearby for a moment.

“Okay, Flurry. I’ll do it, but this had better not be another one of your games,” Swan warned.

“This is legit, I promise.”

“It had better be. Swan out.”

As she trotted down to the cargo bay, she realised that her anxiety had faded—not gone completely, but it was more manageable. Her heart was still racing, but it was no longer trying to escape from her chest.

As she opened the door to the Dream’s cargo bay, she heard Flint’s voice barking orders to his squad.

“Alright fillies and colts, get the lead out! We’re on the clock here!”

Flurry spotted him standing on a crate, clad in a slim suit of armour she wasn’t familiar with. She had been expecting a full exosuit, similar to the ones they had used during the war. Instead of thick armoured plates completely enclosing his body, the dark-blue armour was made up of a large carapace, covering his body with smaller segmented plates over a black augmented bodysuit. It looked advanced and sleek, but it felt like he’d accepted a joust with a Yak, wearing a tutu.

“Hey, Flurry, I just got the word from the captain,” he said as she trotted up to him. “Don’t you worry, we’ll be ready when the time comes.”

“Wearing that stuff?” she commented dismissively as she looked over his attire. “What, Harmony going cheap on your equipment or something?”

He chuckled. “We’re cops first, not soldiers. Besides, I don’t think those Orion folk would appreciate an armoured division tearing up their ship, now, would they?”

She gave him a skeptical look.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s not the hardware but the pony using it that makes the difference,” he said with confidence. “Besides, the corridors on the Orion will be tight, and I’d like some room to maneuver.”

It made sense. Exosuits were not what you would call restrained by design. They tended to make their own entrances onto starships, regardless of collateral damage. With civilians in the way, she understood the need for something a little more subtle.

“Besides, you know what a cautious fellow I am,” he grinned, motioning to the small pulse cannons folded away on each of his shoulders. The rifle holstered at his side looked equally formidable—definitely military issue. “Don’t you worry, Flurry, we MAWS ponies are ready for anything.”

“We’re the problem-solvers, right Chief?” Fire Hawk grinned, adjusting her armour.

The kirin’s armour was different from the others, probably due to her unique physiology. A long series of vents ran down her spine, and the armour plates looked to have an extra layer of ceramics to handle a lot of heat. She had no weapons to speak of, but if there was any truth to her bragging, she didn’t need one.

“If you’ve got time to make jokes, Fire Hawk, you’ve got time to help the others,” Flintlock said. “Whoever is last has to do a lap of the station in full kit, so move it!”

The threat had the desired effect, as the few that had been slacking found a new burst of energy while their squadmates rushed to help.

“Just like old times,” Flurry commented. “I just hope it goes better than most of the battles we had back then.”

She pawed at a rusty old red stain on the decking that no amount of scrubbing had been able to get out. A deep pit formed in her stomach at the thought that a few of these ponies might not be coming back from this mission.

Flint’s brow furrowed slightly, but he gave a gentle smile. “I wouldn’t worry about that. We all volunteered for this. When we signed up with Harmony, we knew what we were getting into.”

She felt her heart swell at those words. It had been a long time since she had been amongst ponies willing to risk themselves for something more than a reward.

“Thank you, my friend,” she said humbly, bowing her head to him.

“Just doin’ my job. Now you just need to get us there in one piece,” he replied with a modest shrug. “And preferably with my breakfast still in my stomach. I know how you fly.”

“I’ll leave some sick bags out if you’d like.”

He let out a sigh, his eyes drifting back to his marines. “Now, neither of us has time for a chat. We’ve got a ship to save. I’m going to go and motivate these ponies some more.”

“Have fun.”

He grinned before trotting over into the mass of ponies. “Come on, you fillies! You’re embarrassing me in front of Flurry Heart! Officer Gum Drop, are you wanting to stay behind?”

A lime green stallion barely out of his teens straightened. “Sir, no sir!”

“Good, Flurry is getting twitchy and she might just feed your sorry flank to her pet monster if you take any longer!” Flint growled before giving her a wink.

Some things never change, she thought to herself as she headed to the flight deck.

“Where did you get that thing?” Flurry remarked as the deck crew was heaving a long metal box with blue arcanite crystals arranged in rows along its top into the Dream’s cargo hold. It was trailing a long line of cables behind it like a grisly streak of entrails.

“It’s the Glorium’s reserve battery,” Oakheart replied.

Flurry gave a whistle. “Damn, how’d you convince them to part with this?”

“The usual way,” he snorted. “I bought it.”

“Should have told me, I’d have ripped it out for you,” she commented as the technicians hurriedly connected the CAPS bank to a tangled mess of wires. “Now, not to sound ungrateful or anything, but why are you giving this to me?”

“We’re connecting a recharge emitter onto the Dream’s dorsal section. It will allow Sabre squadron to refuel in-flight,” he explained, ignoring her angry frown from seeing ponies messing with her ship without her permission. Again.

Flurry walked slowly around the new addition to her cargo bay. This close, she could feel the hairs of her coat stand on end with the energy in the air.

“Also, we managed to clear up what we could from the beacon’s data.” He tapped on his holo brace, and a hazy image appeared. “It seems to be some kind of drone.”

The image was a blur, with most of the frame broken by static, but Flurry recognised the silhouette of a drone streaking by the camera. It was roughly conical in shape, with a bulging drive section towards its rear. Although most of the details were lost, it sent a chill down her spine.

“We’re going to need more ships,” Flurry uttered.

“Ms. Flurry, from the size of the ship, it looks to be barely a threat,” Oakheart assured.

“You’re wrong, that’s a Syndicate Shuriken,” she warned. “Those things are fast, and worse, there’ll be a lot of them. We’ll be outnumbered and outgunned. We need Rapier squadron to even the odds for us.”

“And how do you expect them to do that? This CAPS bank here will be barely enough to recharge one squadron, let alone two,” he said.

Flurry paused to think for a moment. With at least an hour between the fighters arriving on-site and the Glorium showing up with reinforcements, they were going to need every last spark of power. More power had to come from somewhere… Flurry glanced around her cargo hold, her mind racing. Suddenly, it came to her.

“I can help with that,” she declared with confidence. “Have the technicians hook the CAPS bank up to the Dream’s Nexus core. I can top everyone up when we arrive as well as during the fight.”

“Hold on, isn’t that going to be too much of a drain on you?” he asked with a concerned frown. “This is only a corvette sized ship.”

“Oh, I’m a big girl, captain. I should have plenty in my tank to keep them going,” she said, flashing him a confident smile despite her apprehension.

Of course, she hoped to have as much power in reserve as she could for the mission. Experience had taught her to always be prepared when going into a fight. She just hoped it would be enough.

“Very well,” he said. “Now, I need to get back to the bridge. I need to brief Lieutenant Swan on this new development.”

“Need a lift?”

“No, thank you,” he replied, wincing. “I managed to find the elevator.”

“Aww,” she grinned, as he trotted away.

Flurry looked over to Flintlock and his squads, currently trying to stay out of the way of the technicians and the large piece of equipment sitting in the cargo hold.

“Are you going to be okay sitting in with this thing?” she asked.

Flintlock shrugged. “Shouldn’t be a problem. Our equipment is shielded, so it won’t hamper the mission.” His tone hardened as his gaze fell on Fire Hawk, who was currently reaching a tentative hoof to prod the new arrival. “Provided somepony doesn’t start poking at it.”

“Tingly,” the kirin murmured before being dragged away by her squadmates.

“I’d best get up to the flight deck and get us ready,” Flurry said. “Might as well see what these techies are doing to my ship.”

They were ready.

In the Dream’s hold, Flintlock’s marines were lined up, now fully armed and armoured, their faces and manes hidden beneath pressure-sealed helmets. Only the cutie marks or personal insignia painted on their flanks distinguished one pony from the other.

Flintlock was going through a final briefing with them before they set off. The airlocks and other entry points to the Orion were covered again and again, to ensure everypony knew exactly what to do.

Flurry watched through the Dream’s cameras from the flight deck as they went over their plans. Now linked to her ship from the flight couch, she could see everything, inside and out. She hoped to go aboard the Orion herself with Flintlock’s marines when they docked, but it all depended on how much resistance they faced. As much as she hated it, she was just a glorified bus driver for this job.

Flurry flicked to the exterior sensors to watch what was going on outside. Swan Song and her flight were waiting in their ships, their engines idling on their launch catapults. Behind them, the rest of her squadron as well as Rapier waited for their turns. The air rippled with heat coming from their propulsion systems, and the whine of engines was deafening.

All preparations were made, and now, all she could do was wait for Oakheart to set them loose.

She checked the clock. It had been twenty minutes since Oak had signalled the alert. Her heart was screaming at her to just launch now, but she held it in check. This was a group effort now, and everypony had a part to play.

Suddenly, the comms system lit up and Oakheart appeared before her.

“Have you heard anything?” she asked, the hope and fear in her voice surprising her.

He shook his head. “We’ve not been able to raise the Orion.” There was an edge to his voice, and his jaw clenched. “We’re now cruising fast through highly compressed space between stars. From here, you can take your pick of several routes if you know the way. You’ll take off along with Sabre and Rapier squadrons and get to the Orion as fast as you can.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Relax, captain, I know Dragon’s Head like the back of my hoof.”

“The Glorium will continue at best possible speed, but you’ll be on your own out there until we can catch up,” he continued.

She smiled. “I’ll try and leave you something to do when you arrive.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he said, smiling slightly. “Good luck and good hunting. Launch when ready.”

He gave her a sharp salute, before the window closed and she was left alone once again. She felt elation to be finally setting off, but it was tempered by the uncertainty of what she would face when they arrived.

Outside, the ground crews were clearing out of the Dream’s path as the carrier’s bay doors began to slide open.

She spoke into the intercom, and her voice crackled over the cargo hold’s PA system. “Okay, everypony… we’re launching now, so sit back and enjoy the ride. Our inflight entertainment involves staring at the sparkling box.”

Flintlock looked up to one of the nearby cameras and gave a nod before hunkering down with his ponies.

With a gentle beat of her wings, the Dream lifted off its landing gear and angled itself towards the Glorium’s open maw and mirrorspace beyond.

“Here we go, Whammy,” she said, tilting her wings and bringing them down slowly, earning a deep rumble from the Dream as its engines roared to life.

The docking bay streaked by and was soon replaced by the swirling, inky mass of mirrorspace. She pulled away from the carrier, getting a fair distance before turning to face it.

Flurry watched as Swan’s fighters roared out like missiles from ports in the leading edges of the Glorium’s wings. It was like watching a flock of birds preparing for migration as each ship formed up in a broad V formation behind her. They were soon joined by a second wave launched from the Glorium, making for an impressive sight.

Twenty-four Swallow fighters gathered in two parallel V formations. For a bunch of semi-green pilots, it was quite a feat of precision flying. Swan had taught them well.

“Sabre lead, this is the Fleeting Dream, do you copy?” she called over the radio. She might as well keep things professional.

“I copy,” Swan Song replied, her helmeted face appearing in a small vid window. “Sabre flight, form up around the Dream. Rapier flight, take up position behind us.”

Flurry spun the Dream around, turning to face their distant destination. Even at this distance, she could feel the faint ripples in mirrorspace from the nearby star systems. She quickly cycled through the gravitational data held in the Dream’s navigation golem, selecting the steady pulse linked to the Huerth system’s star.

Now, all she had to do was plot a course. It was very much like navigating an ocean covered in whirlpools, each one generated by a star. She would have to be careful to keep her distance, lest they get caught in the gravity wells and lose speed. They couldn’t afford any delays.

With her trained senses, she felt every ripple and current, seeking out the winding path of highest compression between stars, which would shorten their travel distance.

She swallowed. “I’ve found us a path. I’ll take the lead and start correlating nav data for the Glorium.”

“I copy,” Swan replied.

With a quick beat of her wings, she pulled to the head of the formation and set a course for the Huerth system, following the star’s steady heartbeat. The Dream surged forward, the deep rumble of the engines rising to a higher pitch. Her ship felt lighter and more responsive than before, a sign of the work they’d carried out on her. One engine was no longer slightly lagging behind the others, and a vibration that had been bugging her for weeks was gone.

“Not bad,” she commented, keeping herself off the radio. “Looks like Amby has some competition. Just glad I’m not footing the bill for it.”

She could almost feel an ‘I told you so’ emanating from Whammy.

Through her sensors, she could see Swan and her group lagging behind. “Best hurry up, slowpokes.”

“Damn, I didn’t think that rust bucket was that fast,” Blitz said through the comms.

“Don’t let her looks deceive you,” Flurry replied. “She might be old, but the Dream still has some legs on her.”

The Glorium was soon lost in the gloom as their formation ploughed on into the murk. There was only a flitter of nervous chatter amongst the formation, with everypony focused on traversing the immaterium as quickly as possible. Mirrorspace was a dangerous place, especially for a ship with no means of getting out again, so they stayed as close as they could to the Dream.

As they neared the Huerth system, her sensors began to pick up faint gravity shadows in the currents of mirrorspace. To the untrained eye, these shadows were a blurred mess of flickering peaks and troughs, but to a navigator, these were planets and moons.

Lighting up her horn, Flurry sifted through the data, creating an image of what lay beyond in realspace.

There were several massive shadows, each creating whirlpools of energy which she knew to be the planets that made up the Huerth system. Nyx’s distress signal had originated from within a dense patch surrounding the fifth planet of the system. Stretching her senses, she could feel the crowded asteroid field up ahead, like grains of sand in her hooves, shifting in the current.

And sitting right in the middle of it all, was the Orion.

The Orion was certainly massive, creating a far deeper shadow than most of the surrounding asteroids. Flurry tried to sense the other ship which Nyx had mentioned, but the readings weren’t clear enough to find it. The smaller ship would be easily lost amongst the turbulence created in the asteroid field.

Now that she knew where the Orion was, she just had to find a safe place where they could jump in.

This was what separated your average guilder from a master. With her trained senses, she could feel the faint current passing between each rock. It was like looking for stones hidden beneath the surface of a river before jumping in, with only the water’s flow as a guide. Most navigators spent all their time stuck to gates or open space because of the risks of collision, but Flurry wasn’t your average navigator.

“So… Flurry Heart, you’ve done this a lot, right?” Blitz asked.

“Sabre Two, stay off the line,” Swan warned.

“Come on, it’s our necks on the line here,” he retorted, a little trepidation in his voice.

“Oh, I’ve done this plenty of times and into places a lot more crowded than this,” Flurry assured. “Why do you think I’m so hard to catch?”

“And it’s never gone wrong?” he continued.

“Nope,” she lied.

“That’s a relief,” he said with a sigh. “The sooner we’re out of here the better.”

“Maybe if you stopped distracting her, we’ll get out faster,” Swan grumbled. “And preferably not with a face full of asteroid.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Flurry replied, with a smirk as she found what she was looking for.

There it was. A decent sized gap sat between several asteroid shadows, maybe fifty kilocanters wide in realspace, a fair distance from the Orion. More than enough for the squadrons to slip in.

She carefully catalogued her readings before transmitting the tactical situation back to the Glorium.

“Okay, everypony, come get yourselves topped up before we jump in,” Flurry announced. “Momma cow is waitin’ for ya.”

“Form up into groups of four,” Swan said. “We’ll refuel one group at a time. Remember, we’ve got a limited amount, so take sips, not gulps.”

There was a chorus of acknowledgements from her wingmates, and soon they were maneuvering into position around the Dream.

It was awkward at first. They had to get close to be in range of the recharge emitter, but they quickly got the hang of it, and soon, things were moving smoothly. Flurry winced as she felt the CAPS bank begin to draw energy from the Dream’s Nexus core.

Soon, every ship had completed its refueling, and they once again moved back into formation.

“Okay, opening a jump point now,” Flurry said, focusing her thaumatic energy into the Dream’s jump drive. “Keep clear of the jump point—I don’t want any of you getting sucked out when the vortex opens.”

“Jump drive charging,” the Dream intoned, the hum growing until it reached a fever pitch. “Ready to engage.”

There was an extra draw for a moment through her link as the drive drew more energy from the ship’s core. This time, keeping the jump portal open long enough for other ships to pass through would require a fair bit more energy than she was comfortable spending.

As the energy buildup reached critical mass, she channeled it to a point a few hundred canters in front of her ship. The spell finished, and a tear opened up in the fabric of mirrorspace, showing the black expanse of realspace beyond.

Thrusting forward, the Dream streaked through the rift, and Flurry found herself deep within the asteroid field.

Immediately, proximity warning alarms filled her displays as a veritable mountain of rock loomed ahead of her. It was almost completely black, cloaked in shadow as it barreled towards her.

Throwing the Dream into a skid, she felt the slight tug of G forces as she fired off her reversing engines to slow her forward momentum. Her eyes widened as she saw the clouds of dust and ice being kicked up by her jets.

She let out a sigh of relief. “That was close, eh Whammy?”

“Sabre flight, brake as soon as you exit,” she warned. “So long as you come out slow, you should be fine.”

“We’re coming through now,” Swan responded.

From the portal, the first six fighters emerged, clouds of evaporating etherium billowing off their wings like steam from a vent. They quickly spun and used the thrust from their engines to slow themselves down.

“You weren’t kidding when you said it was close fit,” Swan commented, pulling up beside the Dream. “Remaining Sabre ships, you’re up.”

It was a tentative thing. like a herd of animals crossing a river. Their fighters came through carefully in groups of six. Meanwhile, Flurry maintained the energy output necessary to keep the jump point open.

As Rapier squadron was making its way through, Flurry kept her eyes open for any company in the surrounding area. They were at their most vulnerable as they were filtering in, which was why she had jumped in behind cover. Even so, somepony could have easily picked up the energy spike by now, and yet nothing came to confront them.

Flurry was thankful for that, as it gave them the time needed for the last of their ships to jump in. Soon, every ship was through, and they gathered in the shadow of a large asteroid.

“Rapier flight, you hang back while we go and check out the area,” Swan ordered, her voice clear and level. “Fleeting Dream, you’re with us.”

Nerves haven’t got to her, that’s good, Flurry mused.

“Right with you,” Flurry said, giving a gentle beat of her wings to join the rest of the squadron as it crested the top of the asteroid.

“Should we try and raise the Orion?” came a mare’s voice that Flurry recognised from the briefing—Cinnamon something.

“I doubt they’d have enough power to respond by now even if they wanted to,” Blitz replied.

“Keep your eyes and ears peeled,” Swan warned. “Whatever attacked the Orion has got to be close by.”

In the distance, off her port wing, the green marble of a massive gas giant loomed in the starry sky, partially illuminated by the sun’s harsh light. It looked almost inviting with its puffy white clouds scattered across its surface.

Several large asteroids obscured their view of the path ahead. A particularly large one had a massive hole bored right through it. The hole was easily big enough to fit an Alliance frigate inside with room to spare. The bore hole was too circular to be a meteor impact, and strange patterns rippled from its edges where the rock had been melted and then quickly cooled. The inside of the hole glistened with shards of black glass, the stone crystallized by whatever force had done this.

Flurry had seen the aftermath of enough battles by now to recognise the effects of an energy weapon, but something of this scale was unheard of, even in the Federation. It had to have come from the Orion. What kind of monstrosity was she commanding, and why?

Surrounding the asteroid was a glittering cloud of metal fragments, mostly hoof-sized or smaller, with only a few substantial chunks no bigger than one of the Swallow fighters. She began to recognise structures within the debris as they approached the field. A portion of outer hull, buckled outward by the explosion. An array of shattered gas cylinders, clinging to a twisted internal bulkhead. Some pieces still sparked faintly with electrical power from dying batteries.

“Sabre Lead, picking up residual radiation sources from the debris—definitely a ship,” a stallion commented, his voice quiet, almost a whisper. “It’s too big to go around. We’ll have to pass through it.”

“I read you, Sabre Four,” Swan acknowledged, her voice a bit shaken at the scene. “Looks like this is what’s left of the Houndrathi ship. Keep it slow and be careful you don’t let that crap clog your thrusters.”

As they passed through, it was like going into a hail storm, only with bits of metal rattling against their canopies and fuselages. Some of the larger pieces were corroded and didn’t even seem to have come from the same ship. This was typical of a houndrathi’s ramshackle starship construction—just a collection of whatever they could find, welded together. Flurry almost felt pity for them being pitted against her cousin like they had. The only solace she had was that the destruction was total and the creatures’ deaths had been swift.

“By the Winds, what do you think did this?” one of the younger pilots gasped.

“If you’re lucky, I’ll introduce you to her,” Flurry joked.

“A pony did this?”

“She’s related to Last Shadow so anything’s possible,” another commented.

Flurry winced. She really hoped they wouldn’t tar Nyx with the same brush as her, especially given Nyx’s… unique appearance.

“Sabre squadron, we’re getting close. Make sure you’re ready for anything,” Swan called out as the field began to thin.

“Copy, Sabre Lead,” came a chorus of replies one by one.

They circled around the asteroid, and Flurry wasn’t alone in gasping audibly when the Orion came into view. Flurry had glossed over some of the schematics prepared for the briefing, but she still wasn’t ready for the sheer size of the ship before her.

The Orion was massive, making even the Centipede bulk carrier she had ‘borrowed’ from earlier seem small in comparison. It was of a radical design, far different from anything she had seen before throughout the colonies.

The bow of the ship was a flattened wedge, connected to the main hull of the ship by a long, slender neck. Three huge forward swept wings flared out from the main fuselage at equal angles, a dorsal wing sitting atop a superstructure with the other two angled down at her sides.

A pair of sleek engine pods were nestled on either side of the rear of the dorsal wing, with another two on the lower hull. Like Harmony, Flurry could recognise the touch of each of the three tribal styles on her, only far more refined. The practical earth pony construction of the hull blended seamlessly into the more dramatic and aesthetic nuances of the pegasus and unicorn tribes.

One feature that drew Flurry’s eye was the aperture built into the Orion’s bow. It was easily wide enough to fit a train car through, and from the empty mountings around it, there was more than enough room for additional weapons to be installed.

Flurry pushed her questions aside as she focused on the Orion’s condition. There were no running lights on the massive ship, and the Orion simply hung haphazardly in space, rotating slightly around its centre of mass. Flurry could see impact dents on sections of the hull from asteroid collisions, but there was no serious damage on the hull. Her drab grey hull was missing sections in places, likely meant to be installed after she arrived at Harmony.

Flurry felt a surge of relief at what appeared to be minimal damage. This quickly faded when she saw something move out from behind the Orion. It was only a fraction of the size of the massive ship, and at first glance, it looked to be the Alliance cruiser they were expecting.

Then, she saw the strange blue-green growths encrusting the cruiser’s boxy hull, giving the vessel a bloated, ungainly appearance, like it was infected with cancerous growths. The cruiser was latched onto the Orion by a multitude of umbilical tubes, shooting into the disabled ship’s hull like the proboscis of some spacefaring parasite.

A swarm of Shuriken drones buzzed around, circling the Orion like a pack of wolves around a wounded animal.

They’ve already started boarding her! Flurry gasped.

For the moment, there were no hostile scans in their direction. Now, if they could only—

“Attention, unidentified vessel: This is Harmony Security patrol,” Swan announced on open comms. “We are responding to a distress call. State your intentions or you shall be considered hostile. Acknowledge.”

Flurry winced as she watched the cruiser’s sensors stir to life and scan in their direction.

It was times like this she hated siding with the good guys.

Chapter 11 - One Hell of a Furball

Even while hooked up to her flight couch, Flurry managed to connect her hoof to her face over the utterly amateur move. Swan’s actions felt more like something you’d find in a pilot’s training manual—Encounters 101—than what any sane instructor would have trained her to do. The enemy ship had definitely noticed them.

There goes our element of surprise, she noted.

Worse, local comms chatter between the squadrons had suddenly taken on a very distorted quality.

“Localized jamming detected,” the Dream announced.

Well, that explains that. Apparently, they didn’t want anyone calling in for reinforcements. Flurry could still make out what the fighter pilots were saying, but what concerned her more was whether she’d be able to maintain comms with the Glorium. Jamming tended to be more effective at blocking long-range communications, after all. Something about generating an alternating gravity field that acted like tossing a rock in a pond on the Mirrorspace side. Problem for the bad guys is that they’d be cut off as well.

The turrets atop the cruiser’s upper superstructure were suddenly highlighted red as they began rotating in their direction. LIDAR targeting pulses began radiating from the cruiser as its guns found their range. From its bloated belly, bright blue lights were spat out in ever-increasing numbers.

“Sabre Lead, multiple launches detected,” one of Swan’s flight said, fear creeping into the stallion’s voice.

The Dream’s sensors focused Flurry’s vision on the small pinpricks of light. They twitched and shifted, swirling around each other in a growing spiral of light. It was almost beautiful, like a stirred up nest of fireflies, though it troubled her that her sensors struggled for a moment to lock onto them individually.

They were definitely Shurikens. She could recognise that dart-like profile anywhere, and now that they were closing distance, she could make out every detail after managing to lock onto one.

The long, cone-shaped nose and fuselage were almost jet-black, save for a blue stripe running down the side. There was no canopy or signs of a cockpit, for they held no pilot, at least not in the conventional sense. The bulbous engine pod at the rear trailed a bright-blue ion trail as the ship bobbed and weaved erratically.

In amongst the formation were several larger fighter craft. Drone controllers. These would have actual pilots flying them. They were the same colour and configuration as their smaller companions, only with a jagged armoured prow dominated by two ball turrets. Within seconds, they had already begun corralling their wayward pack of drones into order, creating a wall between Flurry and the Orion.

“Flurry, what am I looking at?” Swan asked.

“Shurikens, for sure,” she stated calmly, though she hid her growing unease. “Definitely Syndicate.”

“Syndicate?” Blitz asked. “Isn’t that one of the local pirate groups?”

“Yeah,” Flurry confirmed. “They’re the most organized changeling faction outside the Conformity. Trying to take the Orion is pretty ambitious, even for them. Though I can see why they’d want her.”

“Changelings? I thought they were supposed to be friendly.”

“Not these ones,” she replied sourly. “They’re the worst kind of scum operating in Dragon’s Head. You’d best pray they don’t take you alive.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they’re the ones that see ponies as their next meal,” she replied grimly. “These ferals will drain you dry and then plug what’s left of your traumatized mind into one of those drones.”

“Oh…”

“I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with them over the years. Ever since the war, they’ve been getting bolder. Almost all their tech is stolen. Opportunistic trading-up is how they like to do things. They won’t care what happens to that carrier if they can bag the Orion.”

“And imagine what they could do with a ship like that,” Swan added.

Flurry rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck in preparation for what was to come. “Make no mistake, these aren’t your average pirates.”

They had some serious balls trying to grab a Commonwealth battleship like this. The planning needed to arrange this little ambush must have taken months. Flurry’s only solace was that they were in for a nasty surprise when the boarding party ran into Nyx.

Flurry's thoughts were broken by a sudden silence falling over the comms channels, and she instantly regretted her words. These kids didn’t need horror stories rattling their cages right now.

“Sabre Lead, w-what’s the plan?” One of the pilots asked, a tremor rolling off her voice.

The swarm was swelling in size as more fighters joined the swirl. The changelings knew they had the advantage and were taking their sweet time, letting fear seep into the pegasus squadrons. This would make them all the easier to chase down and capture.

“We can’t beat that!” Cinnamon cried. “We’ve gotta get out of here!”

“Hold, Sabre Three,” Blitz ordered. “Sabre Lead, do we engage or retreat?”

“I…” Swan stammered, stunned shock overtaking her voice.

The swarm spun to face them in unison, having swelled to an intimidating size. It was like a huge spiked beast turning its gaze on a beleaguered challenger for its prize.

“Winds preserve us,” a pilot gasped.

Flurry let out a snort. She hadn’t come this far and given so much for it all to fall apart now. A plan quickly formed in her head; all she needed to do was motivate the right pony.

“Sabre Lead, form up behind me. We’re going to punch right through them,” she said.

She brought her wings down slowly, increasing the thrust to the engines gradually and easing the Dream forward.

“F-Flurry, what are you doing?” Swan asked, her voice shaking off some of the stunned stupor.

“I’ve got soldiers to deliver,” she replied. “I’ll put up a shield in front of us to make a wedge and crack their centre.”

“But it’s suicide!”

“Way I see it, you’re each worth ten of those bugs out there, meaning we’ve got them outnumbered!” she countered. “Question is, are you pegasi of the Republic or the frightened foals they think you are?!”

There was a short pause as the swarm began to surge forward in a torrent. Flurry’s threat indicators went wild as the eye of the swarm focused on her.

“We can beat this, Swan, but I can’t do it alone,” she urged.

“Sabre squadron,” Swan said, taking a breath. “Form up behind the Dream, as tight as you can.”

“Alright!” Blitz whooped. “You heard her, Sabre, it’s showtime!”

There was a chorus of acknowledgments from the others as they quickly formed up in a tight V behind the Dream.

Flurry allowed herself a smile.

“Rapier Lead, do you copy?” Swan called.

“Copy, Sabre Lead.”

“We’ve got a hornet’s nest of trouble bearing down on us and we wouldn’t want you to miss the fireworks,” Swan said, her voice becoming firmer with each word. “When we break their lines, you hit them in the flank and we’ll catch ‘em in a crossfire.”

“We’ll be there in sixty seconds, Sabre Lead.”

“Great,” Swan said. “I just hope we last that long.”

The swarm split into a broad X shape, the tips streaking outwards like a grasping hand. They would be in firing range in a matter of seconds.

“Keep your eyes open for any heavy fighters among them. Those are the controllers,” Flurry said. “Don’t let them isolate you.”

Drawing all the magic she could muster, Flurry threw a golden field out from the nose of the Dream. Sweat ran from her brow as the field began to coalesce in front of them. It stretched across and over the trail of fighters behind her, earning awed gasps from the pegasi.

Flurry cast an eye to her magical reserves. She wouldn’t be able to keep this going for long, but this should be over quickly.

Drawing in a breath, she brought her crosshairs into the centre of the swarm and pressed down on the triggers. Not quite a glorified bus driver after all.

Pulses of golden energy erupted from the Dream’s nose, striking the lead Shuriken and causing it to explode in a bright ball of blue flame. Shuriken drones were barely more than an engine with an attached gun—certainly not enough to withstand a hit from the Dreams guns. Flurry kept her triggers held down, the flashes of light and eruptions of flame almost mesmerizing.

Swan and her fighters joined in, the red tracers from their cannons tearing into the mass of ships. They matched the Dream’s moves as they raked the changeling formation with fire.

The changelings responded with an onslaught of their own. Blue darts of laser fire glanced off Flurry’s shield as the tight formation of fighters charged into the maw of the beast. The changeling drones fired at them from all sides, the shield rippling as each salvo fell like rain over it. Clenching her teeth, it took almost all her focus to keep the shield intact. If it wavered for even a moment, Swan’s flight would be lost.

Flurry winced as the percentage total of her personal magic reserves dropped in ever-increasing increments. It had plummeted substantially in a matter of seconds, and the drain showed no signs of slowing. She could feel the pressure building up at the base of her horn from using so much energy so quickly. She would have to cut her shield if she wanted enough left for the rest of the mission.

The ship shuddered as they charged through the flaming remnants of the changeling drones, chunks deflecting off the front of the shield like snow off a plough.

Then, as quickly as it had started, the swarm parted, the centre disintegrating under the fusillade of fire. Sabre squadron emerged from the explosions of the dying ships and out into open space.

Panting, Flurry let the shield drop, the golden field dissipating quickly. As it lowered, she could hear dings and scrapes rattling her hull as the debris from the battle ricocheted off.

The cruiser loomed ahead like an angry storm cloud, hurriedly spitting out more drones to replace its losses.

“Fleeting Dream, try and get those marines aboard. We’ll keep them busy,” Swan Song called, the fear now gone, replaced with the adrenaline-fueled excitement of battle. “Sabre squadron, follow my turn.”

Swan spun and her wingmates followed, turning their noses to face the swarm like knights preparing for their next joust. Their engines glowed brightly as they brought their continuing momentum to a stop, only to race away rapidly.

For a bunch of green kids who were nearly wetting their flight suits a minute ago, they had recovered well. Swan Song’s voice led the charge as the rest of her aerie fell in line to face the challenge with confidence.

Casting a glance behind her, Flurry saw the changeling swarm mirror their moves, turning to face them once again.

Suddenly, several drones detonated as red tracers tore into them from behind. Rapier squadron streaked into view, firing into the mass of ships as they did so. The swarm’s cohesion began to break down as individual groups broke ranks to pursue their chosen quarry.

Chatter exploded over the comms channels as both forces clashed, devolving the battle into a mass furball. Save for the distinctive red and blue flashes of their weapons, it was almost impossible to make out individual ships as they bobbed and weaved through the maelstrom.

Flurry wanted to join in and help Sabre squadron, but she had to get Flint and his marines offloaded quickly. There was no telling what was going on aboard the Orion, but she knew Nyx was going to need all the help she could get.

The shrill cry of alarms drew her attention upwards just in time to see three shurikens barrelling towards her.

Throwing the Dream into a skid, she felt the press of g-forces against her body as pulse laser fire streaked by. The shurikens had misjudged their speed and would soon overshoot her.

It was the last mistake they’d ever make.

The flight couch made it as natural as if she were actually flying through the air with her own wings. Responding to her movements, combined with the neural link, the Dream’s maneuvering jets fired wildly. Flurry spun the Dream around, bringing her nose in line to where the shurikens would pass by. Squeezing down on the triggers, she sent a stream of golden pulses into their path. Before they could react, they disintegrated in blue flashes of flame, one after the other, leaving wisps of glowing molten metal in their wake.

Flurry’s heartbeat fluttered in her chest at the exhilaration of the kill, the old thrill of combat stirring her spirit despite the danger all around her. For once, there were no ambiguities, no regrets, and no need to hold back. These changelings had threatened her family, and she would make them pay.

Her eyes hungrily scanned for her next target when a voice sounded over the ship’s intercom.

“Flurry, do you copy?”

She blinked, pulling out of her reverie at the sound of Flintlock’s voice.

“Oh, umm, yes I copy,” she replied with an awkward chuckle. “How are you colts and fillies doing down there?”

Even behind that helmet, Flurry could still see his grin. “Clinging on, no thanks to your driving. We’ve got twenty ponies here who are trying not to throw up in their helmets. I think Easel has already lost his lunch.” He glanced off to the side in sympathy. “Can I get a sitrep?”

“Looks like we got a ton of changeling drones to wade through. You and your ponies ready for a fight?” she asked, throwing the Dream into a steep climb to avoid a quartet of shurikens.

“Always. What’s the plan?”

She frowned as she surveyed the situation. There were too many fighters buzzing around to risk docking. As good as his marines were, her ship would be riddled with holes before they cleared the bay.

Looks like she was just going to have to improvise.

“Docking is a bust, so new plan,” she said while rolling the Dream onto her back, then down into a dive to stay below the cruiser’s guns. “I’ll make a pass on the Orion as slow as I can so you ponies can make the jump. You able to handle that, old-timer?”

“Why is it that every time I fly with you, it ends with me jumping out of this tin can at high speed towards imminent death?” he asked, shaking his head.

“Force of habit,” she smirked. “You ain’t the first cop I’ve tossed out of my ship.”

“That makes me feel so much better.”

“I’ll be making my run soon, so you’d better get yourself ready,” she said, her voice softening. “Watch your tail out there, you old coot.”

“Stay safe, firecracker,” he replied, giving her a loose salute.

Flintlock cut the channel and walked over to his waiting ponies. They were huddled in a group, crouching low to reduce the effects of the g-forces on their stomachs. Even with the Dream’s gravity spells and inertia dampeners, he could still feel the ship thrash violently from the maneuvers Flurry was putting it through.

At times, he worried the CAPS bank would break free and crush them all. Periodically, it would spark and hum as it drew in more energy from the Dream before falling inert again. This indicated an opportunistic friendly craft was flying in formation with them for a moment to get a quick top-up before darting away again.

What worried Flint was that the intervals between each recharge cycle were getting shorter. Whatever was going on outside wasn’t good.

“Alright ponies, listen up!” he announced, making their heads snap up to look at him. “Change of plans—we’ll be making a zero-g jump onto the Orion, so check your gear.”

There were a few gasps and grumbles amongst the gathered marines. The strongest ponies amongst the teams began donning their Attitude Assist Modules while the rest attached their thruster units. Meanwhile, Preacher was busy muttering prayers in that weird language of his.

Fire Hawk hopped in place with excitement. “Here I was thinking this was going to be boring!” she exclaimed giddily. “Are we really going up against feral changelings?”

“Yes, so make sure your TEI is working, I don’t want any friendly fire in there,” he said as he made his way towards the loading ramp.

Fire Hawk chuckled, gleefully mashing her forehooves together. “I run into one of those bugs, there’ll be plenty of fire and none of it friendly,” she muttered.

“Everyone be sure to check your targets—we’ve got a lot of civvies in there,” Flint said, eyeing the kirin. “That goes doubly for you, Fire.”

“Don’t you worry, chief, only things that need to worry are those bug boys,” she said.

There were a few eager nods from the other squads. They had picked up some of the chatter from the pegasi fighting outside and were ready to do their part.

“Okay, fire teams,” Flint announced. “Alpha will secure the bridge and command deck. Bravo Fire Control, Charlie and Delta the hangar bays. Understood?”

Each team leader gave him a nod and turned to their teams of four other ponies.

“Drop leaders remember, the rest of the team is dependent on you to get them down to the surface,” Flintlock said, pacing between the squads as they hooked up together. “It’s not going to be pretty out there, but follow your training and you’ll make it down safe, understood?”

“Yes, sir!” They yelled in unison.

The ship’s intercom buzzed and Flurry’s voice boomed across the cargo bay. “Alright, colts and fillies, I’m starting my run. Stand by, sixty seconds.”

“Everypony ready?” Flintlock called. “We jump by teams. Delta, you’re first, ending in team Alpha.”

The three earth ponies and two unicorns that made up Delta team stepped up towards the ramp. A faint hissing signalled the cargo bay beginning to depressurize.

Through his helmet displays, Flintlock could see the air pressure slowly creeping down to zero. The silence of vacuum was broken only by his own steady breathing through his respirator and the vibrations through his armour.

Flint had long since conquered the instinctual terror equines suffered from being enclosed inside a pressure suit. That primitive part of the pony psyche was not prepared for space and needed iron discipline. His only regret was he couldn’t stretch his wings in this thing. For thestrals, and pegasi especially, the lack of wind on their wings was stifling.

“Thirty seconds,” Flurry announced as a pair of spinning, red hazard lights flared to life on either side of the ramp.

Flintlock trotted towards his team, currently hooked up to Princess. The muscular mare was the best rated amongst them to handle the drop down to the Orion.

“Mag boots on,” he ordered, his suit’s onboard spell golem already activating the necessary enchantments. His feet soon felt heavy as the magnetic plates in his boots activated.

The ramp silently lowered, revealing a violently pitching starfield. In the distance, explosions and tracer fire lit up the space around them as the silent battle unfolded. Tiny motes of light, brighter than the stars that made up the backdrop, streaked across the sky, ending in the occasional blue or red flash.

Flint’s stomach dropped at the sight, trying to fight off the niggling queasiness brought on by the constant movement.

“Are you actually going to point us at the Orion anytime soon?” Flint asked.

“Relax, it’s me,” Flurry assured.

The nose of the Dream levelled out, the thrusters on her nose firing off periodically to adjust her course.

“Coming up on the Orion in ten seconds,” Flurry Heart’s voice buzzed through his helmet radio. “I’ll get as close as I can for you.”

The bow of the Orion appeared, moving perpendicular to the direction of the Dream. The imposing sea of jutting superstructure, antennas, and turrets gave the distinct impression that they would soon be smashed into or be impaled by them.

Flintlock had to admit, time hadn’t dampened Flurry’s skills. They must have been barely a hundred canters away from the Orion, so close he could practically see the weld lines.

He walked carefully to the edge of the ramp.

“Okay ponies, it’s now or never,” Flurry called.

“Delta, go!” Flintlock shouted, pointing towards the open ramp.

Together, the team leapt from the ramp, clumped around their drop leader, their momentum carrying them forward along the Orion’s hull. With efficiency born of experience and training, each team jumped off the ramp and into the expanse. A few ponies hesitated, naturally, but they were a team and nopony was going to let their squadmates down.

Eventually, only Flint’s squad remained.

“Best for last, eh chief?” Echo chuckled as they walked up to the ramp’s edge.

“Somepony has to keep an eye on you lot,” he said, giving her a pat on the shoulder.

They were each tethered onto Princess, who stepped forward with resolve.

“You’ve got this, Princess,” Flint assured as he hooked himself onto her harness.

“Yeah, probably the only thing you’re really good at!” Fire Hawk chuckled as they shuffled towards the drop.

Princess said nothing, already deep in concentration for the drop ahead.

Taking a breath, Flint mentally prepared himself, experience numbing the fear clawing in the back of his mind.

“Ready?” Flint asked, getting nods from them all. “Go!”

Leaning back, they killed the spell on their boots and leapt from the ramp.

“Okay, Flurry, all teams away,” he called, looking back at the retreating Dream spinning on her axis. Her engines glowed white-hot as she narrowly avoided a burst of flak from the cruiser’s turrets.

“I copy, watch your tails down there,” Flurry replied.

Turning back, his heads-up display showed the trajectory of his plummet. Thin blue lines marked the path they were following, with a distance-to-target indicator appearing on the right side of his HUD.

“Get ready to fire braking thrusters,” Flintlock said.

“I copy,” Princess replied, firing off periodic jets from her thruster pack, gently adjusting their trajectory.

The Orion’s hull was already rushing up to meet them as they plummeted towards its surface.

“Detach in five,” Flint announced, as the proximity sensor rapidly ticked down. “Echo, you’re first.”

“Copy, chief.”

“Four.”

Princess rotated her thruster nozzles and fired off a prolonged burst to slow their forward momentum, the vibration from the motor running through their tethers. With careful precision, she began to spin their group.

“Three.”

Everyone reached for the release clasp on their harness. Their timing would have to be perfect, otherwise they’d slam into the hull or be tossed out into space.

“Two.”

Flint looked to his squad one last time, giving them a nod.

“One.”

Barely thirty canters from the deck, they released themselves from the group one by one, the jerk of each release slowing Princess’ spin.

The rest of his team disappeared from view, being replaced by blue outlines on his HUD.

Breathing in long deep breaths, he focused on keeping himself between the guidelines while relaying the information to Princess. It was a lot like flying in a way, the attitude thrusters on his back mimicking his wings while jets on his hind legs acted as a rudder. The big difference was the lack of wind whistling in his ears and brushing against his face. All he could hear was the thumping of his heart, so loud now, in the silence of the vacuum.

Something streaked past him so fast that his eyes barely even registered, causing him to bank away out of reflex.

“Easel, there’s a drone coming right at you!” a voice belonging to a mare in fire team Charlie yelled over the radio.

“Where, I don’t—” The stallion’s voice was suddenly cut off.

Flintlock cursed in frustration, but there was little he could do. Getting down was the priority now, and the main body of the Orion was getting closer and closer by the second.

Firing off the jets on his back, he leveled himself out and aimed for the landing point where the rest of his team was touching down. He approached it rapidly, at a speed that caused warnings to flash inside his helmet. The slightest miscalculation now would send him tumbling off into the void.

As Flint approached the landing point, he angled his body, bringing his hind legs to face his direction of travel. Firing off measured bursts from the jets in his legs, he began to slow his momentum.

“Warning, thruster malfunction,” the golem in his helmet announced, the jets on his legs spluttering before failing completely.

“Chief!” Echo called, as he swept past the drop zone and began a precarious transit over the Orion’s port wing.

Easy, don’t panic, remember your training, he reassured himself, trying to calm his rocketing heartbeat. He checked his suit’s systems quickly, testing his remaining jets to ascertain which ones were still working. His hoof-mounted thrusters were gone, but the ones on his back still functioned.

Okay, I can work with this, Flint thought, angling his thruster jets forward and firing off a prolonged burst, pushing him closer and closer to the wing. That might have solved the height problem, but he was still moving down the wing at a rapid pace.

Only one thing for it, he lamented. This was going to hurt.

Reaching out with his hooves towards the hull plating streaking past, he activated his hoof magnets, pulling him down to connect with the hull. He clenched his teeth as the jerk from the impact threatened to pull his legs out of their sockets. He skidded across the hull, sparks arcing off his boots as his body scraped across the Orion’s wing.

For a brief moment, his hooves left the deck, his body tumbling for a second before the magnets found their grip again. Eventually he finally came to a stop, his body coming to an ungraceful halt in a heap on the wing.

Flintlock let out a groan as he gave his limbs a few tentative flexes and was thankful that he hadn’t broken anything. He wouldn’t be tap dancing anytime soon, but he could at least move, which meant he was still in the fight.

The radio crackled to life, causing Flint’s ears to perk as Fire Hawk’s voice came through. “Hey, chief? You still alive?”

“You ain’t getting off that easy,” Flint replied, groggily clamoring to his hooves.

“Echo and Priest are with me at the airlock. Can you see us?” Fire Hawk asked.

He looked up to the stepped superstructure leading up towards the Orion’s enormous dorsal wing. Nestled in an alcove, he could see a blue strobe light blinking and a few distant figures.

“I got ya. Headin’ there now,” Flint said, aiming himself towards them and pushing himself off the hull. “Is Princess there with you?”

“She’s hulking her way over as we speak,” Fire chuckled.

“That’s a relief, I’ll be there soon,” he replied.

Why do they have to make these ships so damn big! he grumbled to himself as he moved across the wing, periodically giving himself a short push now and again to keep himself orientated.

“Alpha Lead on the move,” he announced. “Team leaders, sound off.”

“Delta, all landed safely.”

“Bravo, all safe.”

There was silence for a moment before the commlink crackled to life once again. “Charlie here. Easel and Rosebud are gone. Changeling drone got Easel, and Rosebud misjudged her landing.”

Charlie’s team leader, Honeydew, an earth pony mare of some experience, sounded hollow over the radio. Her voice cracked as she spoke. Their unit had barely formed, and they were already down two members.

“Charlie. Regroup with Delta and back them up,” Flint said softly. As much as it hurt, he had to keep them moving.

“Copy, Alpha Lead,” Honeydew responded, her voice levelling to a degree. “We won’t let you down.”

With grim resolve he continued along his path, the dorsal wing of the Orion looming above him like the tower of a fortress.

“Chief, you’d better get that wrinkly old flank moving. It looks like you’re about to have some company,” Fire Hawk said, the concern in her voice enough to spur him on.

Flintlock glanced upwards and saw the glint of blue metal from a changeling Shuriken barreling down towards him from above. He broke into a sprint, hopping across the Orion’s hull in long jumps with the aid of his one working thruster. Staying out in the open was suicide; his weapons just didn’t have the punch to deal with this attacker. He needed to get to cover and fast.

As he jumped, a torrent of searing blue pulses fell silently around him, breaking up into showers of sparks as they struck the hull. He skidded to a stop, the stream of bolts running ahead of him as a trio of Shurikens swooped overhead.

“Move your flank!” Princess urged. “They’re making another pass!”

He couldn’t help but smile—even at work, there was always a mare telling him what to do.

Scurrying towards the alcove of the airlock, he spotted Princess frantically waving to him. Echo was crouched by the airlock controls with Fire Hawk and Priest on either side.

Panting, he cast a glance upwards, scanning the space above him for his pursuers, and sure enough, he saw them banking in for another run.

As Flintlock looked back, he saw Princess emerge, spinning up her gatling cannon.

“I’ll cover you!” she shouted, bracing herself before letting loose a stream of blue bolts over his head.

He didn’t dare look back as he rushed towards the shelter of the alcove.

Flintlock barely made it to safety before the blue rain fell once again. He and Princess dived back into cover as bolts struck all around them, glancing off the hull plating like water. Even with its shields offline, the Orion’s armour was evidently formidable.

“Any progress with the airlock, Echo?” he panted, pressing his back against the alcove’s wall.

Echo had already plugged a mini-CAPS cell into the door’s panel and was furiously tapping away on the schematic projected by her holo-brace.

“I need two minutes, boss. The panel’s dead and I need a cold reboot to get it running,” the mare replied, not looking up from her work.

“We ain’t gonna last thirty seconds at this rate,” Princess huffed.

“You could go out there and be a distraction, waving that big cannon around for ‘em,” Fire Hawk joked.

“I could offer you a prayer if you like,” Priest said with a tone that somehow felt sincere and mocking at the same time as he took careful aim at the drones.

“I swear when this is over…” the earth pony mare snorted.

“Enough, all of you!” Flintlock snapped, rubbing his chin with a hoof then feeling awkward when it merely thumped against his helmet.

Princess was right, of course. All it would take is one of those things finding the right angle and they were done for.

They’d need a little help.

He gazed upwards to see several of Swan’s fighters dueling with their foes overhead.

“Alpha Lead to any friendlies, my team is pinned down by the Orion’s port airlock near the base of the dorsal wing. We need support on my beacon,” he called, switching frequencies on his suit’s radio. “Could really use some help down here.”

Flintlock looked up towards the Shurikens lining up for another run. “Right now would be good.”

Damn it, Flurry, where are you? he thought, pulling his rifle from its holster and clasping it in his forehooves. Might as well scratch their paintwork a bit before I die.

“Let’s give these bugs a warm reception,” he said, getting nods from the others.

Flintlock poked his head out of cover and carefully took aim. He quickly fired off a few bursts and was disappointed to see them glance harmlessly off the drone’s hull. Princess and Priest joined in as well, with Princess liberally spraying the space in front of them while Priest took his time.

The zebra slowly took aim with his DMR, leading the target before squeezing off three shots in rapid succession and was rewarded with one of the drones veering wildly off, trailing smoke behind it before impacting on the port wing below.

“Show off,” Fire Hawk grumbled. Having no weapons of use at that range, the kirin simply chose a torrent of expletives, a tiny lick of flame bursting from her suit’s vents.

“Focus your fire!” Flint ordered, picking the lead ship as his target.

They opened fire in unison, pulse laser blasts striking all around them as the changelings returned fire. Flintlock recoiled as his vision was blinded for a moment by a flash of light from a bolt landing a little close for comfort. His helmet’s visor barely reacted in time to filter out the flash.

The changelings were now aiming to wipe them out, getting closer and closer as each second passed.

As the drones closed in for their final run, a flurry of red tracers tore into the changeling formation, the first exploding, while the second spiralled off trailing black smoke.

They caught the welcome sight of a pegasus Swallow as it streaked by overhead, the pilot performing a corkscrew before pulling up sharply.

“Alpha Lead, Rapier Six, your skies are clear for now.”

Looking up, Flintlock grinned. “Thanks for the assist, Rapier. Drinks are on me when we get back.”

As the Swallow pulled up, Flint gasped as he saw more Shruikens sweep up on the fighter from below.

“Rapier Six, you’ve a trio of bogies coming up behind…” his voice trailed off as he saw them open fire.

The Swallow pitched and tried to avoid its pursuers, but it was too late. A bolt struck just behind the cockpit, causing the ship to lose power and spiral out of control.

The drones fell on the wounded ship like jackals, getting as close as possible and riddling the defenceless fighter as it drifted. It exploded shortly after with a blue flash of flame, the pilot’s scream lost in a final shrill of static over the radio.

“Damn,” Princess muttered quietly, lowering her head. “They’re really getting torn up out there.”

“All we can do is keep moving,” he said grimly, looking back. “Echo, how’s the door coming?”

“Just another… and got it!” she exclaimed, the pistons springing open one by one.

The thick outer hatch of the airlock swung open with a waft of ice crystals. Fluorescent lighting flickered on, revealing a pristine white airlock, like it was fresh out of the packet.

“Okay, ponies,” he said, kicking off the side of the alcove and drifting inside. Their hooves suddenly connected with the floor as the welcome pull of gravity took hold. “Now, the easy part is over. Let’s get to work.”

Swan Song breathed heavily into her helmet, fighting to get more oxygen into her weary body. Her flight muscles burned, desperately screaming at her for respite from their ordeal. The rapid, desperate thumps of her heartbeat pounded in her ears in an almost deafening cacophony.

The weariness of the last forty-eight exhausting hours was only being kept at bay by the steady dose of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Her ship wasn’t faring much better. The engines whined at an ever-increasing pitch, a heavy vibration rippling through the battered airframe like the convulsions of a dying animal. Through her links to the ship, she could sense numerous tears in the fuselage and failing systems beneath. She didn’t dare look at the plethora of warning indicators flashing incessantly in the corner of her eye.

They both needed a short respite, her to catch her breath and her ship to cool down before it shook itself apart.

Swan couldn’t say how long it had been since Flurry had led the charge towards the Orion. Time had become a mad blur of flashes of light and sound. All she could cling to now was the forlorn hope that the Glorium would arrive soon to relieve them.

Around her, the battle was still raging, with ships streaking by in a desperate dance for survival. Red and blue tracers flashed across her view, punctuated by explosions that filled the space around her. She had only seen such a sight in the news vids from the war. To be amongst it was both beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

“Sabre Lead, I’ve got three drones on my tail!” Cinnamon Swirl cried, her voice desperate and laced with fear. “I can’t shake them!”

Swan shook her head to clear the daze.

“Hold on, Sabre Three, I’m on my way,” she replied, scanning the battle and spotting the desperately jinking Swallow fighter trying to escape its pursuers. “Sabre Two, let’s get to it.”

“Copy, Sabre Lead,” Blitz replied. “Right behind you.”

Swan banked towards her embattled friend, urging her wounded ship to full speed once more. Blitz took up position to cover her as she dove into the chase.

Cinnamon’s Swallow was heading close to one of the asteroids on the periphery, hoping to lose her pursuers amongst the debris. They had followed, like a pack of sky mantas chasing down a cloud whale. They were toying with her, firing a few bursts periodically to keep her jinking, wearing her out for the kill.

As Swan closed in, she spotted a larger fighter following behind the drones. Maybe three times their size, it looked like a jagged dagger, its profile broken by serrated edges running up its top. Towards the tail was a large engine nozzle, spewing a stream of blue light from its exhaust.

Was this one of those controllers Flurry had spoken of?

It seemed too focused on the chase to notice her pulling up behind it. Unlike its smaller brethren, this ship’s movements were slower and less frenetic. It was almost casual, moving only to avoid the occasional stray chunk of rock drifting into its path.

“Hurry Swan, I can’t keep this up much longer!” Cinnamon’s desperate cry begged over the radio.

“Don’t worry, Cinnamon, I’ve got them,” Swan said.

She squeezed the triggers as soon as the enemy drifted into her crosshairs. Red bolts of charged arcane energy streaked towards their target, creating glowing slags of molten metal on its hull as they impacted. The controller lurched, a plume of grey smoke trailing behind it.

The controller attempted to spin on its axis, trying to bring its nose turrets to bear on her, but it was a fatal mistake. As it spun, it exposed its broadside to her and she took full advantage. Raking the fighter with several shots, a blast hit just behind the section connecting the main fuselage to the engine. Swan watched with satisfaction as the controller’s engine sheared off, its engine zigging wildly for a few seconds before exploding.

The three remaining Shurikens jerked and then spiralled away lazily like their guiding strings were cut. She and Blitz finished them quickly before another controller ship could claim them.

“Sabre Three, are you okay?” Swan asked, her eyes scanning for any more threats.

“I-I’m fine, thank you,” Cinnamon said shakily.

“Where’s Sabre Four?” Swan asked.

“He’s gone, Swan. He tried to keep them off me and—” Cinnamon’s voice cracked and fell into a gentle sob.

Swan clenched her teeth and bit back a curse. Another dear friend gone and she hadn’t even heard his cry. This battle had cost her more friends and comrades than she dared think about. Every final cry she had heard over the radio had been like a stake driven into her heart. These were her precious ponies, and she’d led them into a massacre.

“What’ll we do, Swan? There won’t be anypony left at this rate,” Cinnamon asked, desperation now in her voice.

Swan closed her eyes, feeling anger well up inside her at her own impotence. She was their Aerie leader; her ponies looked to her for answers, but she had none to give. This was so far beyond her experience.

She let out a sigh. “Form up behind me, help is coming—we just need to hold on.”

“How long until the carrier gets here?” Cinnamon asked.

“Twenty minutes,” Blitz said.

Twenty minutes! How many of us will be left by then? Swan asked herself.

That was, of course, if the carrier was even still coming at all. With comms being jammed, that piece of shit Downdraft would likely order them to retreat if he thought things were going badly enough. He was probably halfway back to Harmony by now, inventing a heroic lie to hide his disgrace. They would not be receiving any reinforcements.

“How is everypony’s fuel levels?” Swan asked, shaking off her morbid thoughts.

“My CAPS are nearly spent,” Blitz replied.

“Mine too,” Cinnamon whimpered.

Swan checked her energy gauge and saw it blinking a warning at her. At this rate, they would run dry in the next few minutes.

“Has anypony seen the Fleeting Dream?” Swan asked.

“I-I haven’t seen her since we got scattered,” Cinnamon replied.

“Damn it,” she cursed.

What had been a simple covering maneuver had devolved into a dozen smaller dogfights. Nothing in her academy training had prepared her for this, and now she had lost sight of the ship they were dependent on for recharging.

The alicorn had likely dropped her marines off before joining them aboard the Orion. Getting to her cousin had always been her top priority. Flurry had gotten what she needed from Swan and her blackwings, and now they were being left to die. In the end, despite all her big talk, Last Shadow had left them just like everypony else.

Swan swallowed. “Let’s get back into the fight. We need to regroup with the others.”

She banked her ship upwards, charging back into the maelstrom.

“Right behind you, Sabre Lead,” Blitz called.

“I’m with you, Swan,” Cinnamon said shakily.

Swan spotted two more of Sabre squadron engaged with at least a dozen Shuriken drones and headed there as fast as her wounded ship would carry her.

“Sabre Ten, we’re coming to assist, at your four o’clock low,” she said.

“Where… I see you!” Came a frantic reply, the mare’s voice frayed. “We’ll try and bring the fight your way.”

“Sabre Two, you try and outflank them, Sabre Three stay on my wing,” she said, picking out her targets. “Watch your tails.”

“Same to you, Sabre Lead,” Blitz said, banking away.

“Cinnamon, just stay with me, okay?”

“I copy, Sabre Lead,” Cinnamon said with fragile determination in her voice.

Swan allowed herself a small smile as they dove in together. They might be outnumbered and surrounded, but her ponies weren’t going to go down without a fight.

The drones were moving in groups of six, trying to pin her pilots down in a crossfire. She could see her fighters ducking and weaving, trying to cover each other as they moved.

“Sabre Three, we’ll make a quick pass, try and get as many as we can,” Swan said, picking out her targets.

“I copy, Sabre Lead.”

She urged her ship up to full throttle, feeling her wings protesting as her ship accelerated. The vibration increased once again, and she briefly fought with the controls to keep herself steady.

In the corner of her eye, she saw her energy levels drop to critical.

Come on, just hold together, she prayed.

They closed in, just as one of her flight made a roll and dived low.

A clump of drones were in the process of following them when she and Cinnamon struck. Firing in carefully controlled bursts, she picked off two drones before they even realised they were under attack. Cinnamon managed to get another two as they spun to react to the new threat. Blitz came barreling in from the other side, guns blazing, aiming for those trying to escape the trap.

The hunters quickly became the hunted as the pack of Shurikens found itself hemmed in from all sides. The Swallows that Swan had rescued now joined the attack on their beleaguered foe, causing the changeling formation to collapse as more and more were picked off.

“They’re running!” Blitz cried as the survivors cut and run, joining their controllers in a dash back to the cruiser.

“Thanks for the assist, Sabre Lead,” Sabre Eight said.

Their elation was short-lived as their scanners lit up with yet more contacts coming their way. At least eighteen new drones and their controllers were heading their way from the cruiser.

This is endless, she thought.

The Shurikens formed into a broad X, gathering the survivors of the previous fight into its ranks.

“Damn, they really don’t like us,” Blitz commented. “Probably sore from their flanks getting whooped.”

Swan allowed herself a smile. She could imagine him stomping his hooves and flaring his wings defiantly at the approaching enemy.

“Let’s get ready to give them a warm welcome,” she said.

“Now you’re speaking my language,” he replied.

Blitz and Cinnamon came up to join her on either side, with Sabre Seven and Eight taking up position behind them.

Despite his words, she knew he was running on empty just as much as she was. She could hear the faint pant in his breath and the weariness hidden in his voice. Neither of them had much left, but she felt comforted to have him and what was left of her squadron at her back.

A series of warnings lit her vision as the drones began to close into gun range.

“It’s been an honour,” she began.

“Sorry kid, gonna have to ruin your little moment,” a voice interrupted.

An explosion behind the drones rendered six of the Shurikens inert, the now lifeless drones spiralling out of formation. From the fire, the Fleeting Dream burst forth with several Swallows following behind her.

The remaining drones spun to face their new threat, but Flurry Heart effortlessly wove through the formation with the grace of a dancer. Swan didn’t think it was possible for such a large ship to move as it did. The Dream arced and pirouetted through the drones, swatting them down with casual ease.

Swan could only watch in awe as the alicorn laid waste to the gathered horde. Flurry hadn’t abandoned them!

“I picked up a few stragglers around the Orion and brought them here,” Flurry said.

“Good to see you, Sabre Lead,” Rapier Lead said, coming in above them with the remnants of his squadron. “After we merged with the enemy, everypony got separated. If Flurry hadn’t helped us out…”

“She helped you?”

“Of course I did,” Flurry interrupted. “You’re my comrades. I wasn’t going to leave my aerie hanging now, was I? You’d best recharge while we have a lull in the action.”

Their advantage now broken, the changelings retreated back to the cruiser, but this time did not return. The drones circled their mothership, as if pondering their next move. Regardless, Swan welcomed the reprieve.

The Fleeting Dream took position between them and the Orion. Flurry’s ship now bore a few new scorch marks on her hull.

Swan breathed a sigh of relief as the energy transfer began, slowly replenishing her Swallow’s CAPS cells.

“Sorry for the wait, it took me a while to round everypony up,” Flurry said.

“I’m just glad you’re here, we were on our last spark,” Blitz said, relief heavy in his voice.

Flurry’s voice was calm and determined, the voice of a veteran of countless battles. There was no hint of weariness there. In fact, she seemed almost eager for the next fight. Despite her fears and doubts about the Glorium, Swan couldn’t help but feel reassured by the alicorn’s words. The fact that she was still there fighting alongside them was enough, all by itself, to restore Swan’s confidence.

“Okay everypony, let’s get ready to—”

Several explosions rocked their formations as flak bursts from the cruiser erupted around them. The ship had turned broadside onto them and was now showering them with shots from its dorsal batteries.

Swan let out a gasp as her ship was rocked by a near-miss. Red hot shrapnel peppered her ship, sending a sharp pain through her wings as the link registered impacts. An outline of her fighter appeared with several sections of the wing now glowing red.

The drones reformed in a broad wall formation, now bolstered by new arrivals from the carrier. They waited just outside the flak zone for anypony to dare a breakout.

“Looks like they’re done throwing their drones at us,” Flurry snorted.

“We can’t stay here!” Blitz cried. “Those guns will tear us to pieces.”

“And go where? They’ll chase us down if we try and run,” Swan retorted, frustration seeping into her voice at being unable to hit back at their foe.

There was a flash and a cut off cry as one of her ships exploded from a nearby flak burst.

“Swan, I need you and the rest of your ponies to make a run for the big asteroid close to the houndrathi debris field,” Flurry said. “Make it look as disorganised as you can.”

Another explosion rocked her ship, and Swan gritted her teeth. “No problem doing that,” she snorted sarcastically. “I assume there is a plan?”

“Hey, it’s me… there’s always a plan.”

Chapter 12 - Two Bad Decisions Later

Oakheart squirmed awkwardly in his seat, the luxurious cushions on the bridge of the Glorium feeling more distracting than comfortable. The Alliance warships that he had served on felt more at home with their spartan furnishings than this gaudy mobile palace.

“Comms, have we had any word from them yet?” he asked, casting a glance towards the communication station.

“Nothing yet, sir,” the stallion sitting at the station replied.

Oakheart clenched his teeth, a silent sigh of frustration seeping out. It had been over a half-hour since they had heard anything from Flurry Heart or the strike team. They had lost contact only moments after they had jumped into the system and found the Orion. Anything could have happened since then, but all Oak could do was sit and wait while the Glorium trudged through Mirrorspace far more slowly than he would have liked.

When he had commanded an Alliance cruiser, he was part of the action, together with his crew. He felt connected to events, just as those under him were, but here, he was detached and adrift. It frustrated him to no end, but he did his best to hide it from the carrier’s crew.

“Thank you, petty officer. Let me know the moment anything changes,” he replied, giving the officer a nod.

“Aye, sir.”

The difference between the officers and the rest of the crew on the Glorium was startling. While most of the bridge officers moped around their stations, chatting or even sleeping, their underlings sat dutifully at their posts, paying keen attention to their instruments.

The lack of discipline shown by these officers in front of their juniors turned Oakheart’s stomach. They were meant to set an example for the rest of the crew. Instead, they lounged around like they were on a pleasure cruise.

“You know, captain, you should really learn to relax a little,” came a slightly slurred voice from the seat beside him.

Then there was this fool.

Oakheart looked over to where Shipmaster Downdraft sat slumped in his throne-like chair. The pegasus was idly drawing in another gulp of aerohol from his shisha pipe, surrounded by a thin haze of smoke.

Downdraft was a perfect example of everything Oak hated about the pegasi—their preening arrogance disgusted him. When they had first arrived on Harmony, Oakheart had done everything he could to just not deal with them. All the delays, the negotiations, and the petty ignorance had been tolerated only because he had hoped that it would be temporary. Now that he was in amongst them, he felt an old anger gently simmering like a dormant volcano.

“Shouldn’t you be more concerned?” Oakheart asked. “Not a word from your squadrons for thirty-five minutes and you’re just sitting there?”

“Why should I care? This is your show, captain,” Downdraft sneered. “I’m just here as a liaison. You should be grateful to even be here.”

Oakheart narrowed his eyes, resisting the urge to knock the arrogant pegasus right out of his chair. He idly wondered if Flurry Heart was beginning to have a bad influence on him. While unconventional, her methods cut right to the point and were extremely effective. Unfortunately, without her around, Downdraft and the rest of the officers were beginning to find their backbone again.

“I wonder,” Downdraft continued. “Why are you suddenly so concerned about our blackwings? It’s not like you bothered with them before.”

“They’re under my command,” he replied. “It’s my job to make sure everypony gets back safe, blackwing or not.”

“My, how quaint, the war hero showing concern for his former enemy,” Downdraft mocked. “Maybe when this is over, I can send a few to your quarters to show their appreciation. You seemed quite interested in our little Swan.”

There were a few stifled chuckles from his inner circle.

“Of course I am—she’s the only capable officer amongst you,” Oakheart retorted, giving his best polite smile.

Downdraft let out a snort, nearly choking on his aerohol. “You insolent—”

“Present company excepted, of course,” he lied.

Downdraft fluffed his wings, muttering something under his breath.

Yes, Flurry is definitely a bad influence, he thought to himself.

As much as it irked him, there was a sliver of truth in Downdraft’s observation. He’d had little contact with Lieutenant Swan Song since her arrival, hearing only reports of the odd scuffle with the deck crews. At the time, he had thought her just another rowdy pegasus causing trouble. Even after hearing the rumours of how badly Merry had treated them, he had done nothing, simply wanting them off his station.

Then, he had seen their living conditions.

He was beginning to see what drove the young pegasus—a strong desire to protect her own. It wasn’t far removed from his own tribe’s feelings towards clan and kin.

“Umm, sir,” a voice broke Oakheart from his chain of thought. “We’re getting a weak signal from the flight group.”

“Put it on speakers,” he said, straightening himself.

“Sabre Seven, watch your tail, he’s coming around again!”

“I got it, I got it!”

“Five more coming in, five o’clock high!”

“My engine’s out! I’m losing control—”

A myriad of panicked voices echoed across the bridge of the Glorium like the wails of the damned. In an instant, everyone’s ears were perked and alert, even the officers taking notice.

Oakheart felt his chest tighten. They were under attack, and it sounded like things were getting desperate. He had to find out what was happening.

“Put me through to Sabre Lead,” he ordered.

“I’m trying, sir, but the signal keeps cutting in and out,” the comms officer stammered, rattled by what he had just heard.

“The Fleeting Dream then,” Oakheart said. “We have to find out what’s going on.”

“…captain?” came a garbled response from Flurry Heart.

“Clean that up!” he said, a little louder than he meant to.

“I must have hit something important. Can you read me?” Flurry called, now a little clearer.

“Yes, we read you, what’s the situation?” Oakheart asked.

“Flintlock and friends are away, but we’re getting cut to pieces out here,” she replied. “You boys had better be comin’ soon or there won’t be anyone left to greet you.”

“We’re coming, just hold on,” he assured as a stream of data poured onto several holo-windows.

The situation was dire. Sabre and Rapier squadrons had already lost over half their number to enemy drones, and there was still that cruiser to deal with.

Oakheart felt no shortage of disgust as he stared at the grainy images of the former Alliance cruiser on the view screens. To see a proud earth pony ship desecrated and corrupted like that sickened him to his core. It was an insult to the brave ponies that once crewed her.

Although the whole bottom of the ship was corrupted, it still possessed a formidable armament, which it was now putting to terrible use.

“Tell Sabre Lead to have her ships withdraw outside the range of their flak batteries,” Oakheart said. “Limit your attacks until we get there. Our ETA is twenty minutes.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve had an idea, I’ll fill you in when you get clos—” Flurry was then cut off by a loud shrill of static and then dead silence, the signal lost once more.

He looked over to the comms station, where the crew was working frantically.

“Can you get her back?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

“No sir, we lost the feed,” came a fearful reply. They winced as if they were afraid he would come over and beat them.

“Damn it,” Oakheart cursed. “Divert as much power to the engines as we can. We have to get there faster.”

“That’s quite enough, captain,” Downdraft announced. “You’ve had your fun, but now I’m taking command.”

Downdraft staggered from his seat and straightened his uniform. “It’s obvious the battle is lost. I will not risk any more of my lord’s equipment nor the safety of his flagship.”

“Your pilots are dying out there!” Oakheart retorted, gesturing to the data streams.

“And?” Downdraft replied with a shrug. “Harmony will compensate us for lost equipment. Do not fear, captain, the Republic can always send us more blackwings. When we return to the station, I will be generous in my report of your conduct. Set a course for the Avalon syst—”

“Belay that,” Oak interrupted, earning a few gasps from the crew. “I was given full authority by your lord for this mission. We continue on course.”

“Lord Merry suspected you’d do something foolish, so he ordered me to intervene if I felt it was necessary,” Downdraft snorted. “You are relieved, captain.”

Downdraft gestured to two of his officers, who fluttered down to either side of Oakheart.

Oakheart thought fast. He was decidedly outnumbered here, so resisting was pointless. He was going to have to get creative.

“And what will you tell your lord upon your return, having lost his new ‘pet’, Flurry Heart? Do you think he would approve of your abandonment of his most prized blackwing because you had concerns for your ship’s safety?” Oakheart asked, feeling his chest tighten from exploiting the mare’s predicament.

Downdraft paused, swallowing hard. “His Lordship doesn’t need to know the details. All I need to say is that Last Shadow was lost because of your insistence that she launch early.”

“You could… But this data says otherwise, doesn’t it?” Oakheart said, tapping on his holo-brace to transfer the data. “And I will be giving Lord Merry and the Director a full report.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Now, we can stand here arguing, or you can help me save those ponies out there. Then, when we return to the station, I will be generous in my report of your conduct,” he said as a slight smile crept onto his lips. “But mark my words, if the Director learns you abandoned her daughter and niece out there, she’ll pin your balls to her wall.”

“You…” Downdraft gulped, the conflict almost visibly rattling inside the stallion’s head. His wings fluttered, a heavy frown forming on his brow.

“The clock is ticking, shipmaster,” Oakheart pressed. “We don’t have time to waste.”

Eventually, Downdraft’s efforts to weasel out of his predicament were exhausted and the pegasus let out a frustrated sigh. “Very well, we will continue as planned.”

Turning away from the defeated pegasus, Oakheart looked to the stunned faces of the crew, a few of them giving him a cautious smile of approval.

“Continue on our course,” Oakheart ordered. “Best possible speed.”

He let out a sigh, feeling his blood pressure beginning to rise at the mere thought of what that insane mare had planned this time.

“So, are you ready for the fireworks?” Flurry asked after switching comms off the Glorium’s channel. The carrier had finally gotten close enough that their signal could overcome the Syndicate’s jamming, and Oakheart had been fully briefed.

“This is insane and suicidal, but yes,” Swan conceded.

“That’s the spirit!” she said with a grin, maneuvering the Dream to point towards the exit of their makeshift shelter.

Huddled together inside the borehole of the asteroid Nyx had carved open, Flurry and the survivors of Sabre and Rapier squadrons prepared themselves.

They had powered down to both conceal their energy signature and preserve what little power they had left. Those who were running on empty had recharged from the Dream up to fifteen percent. Looking back, Flurry could barely make out their thermal outlines within the stark shadows of the asteroid. Battered and weary, they all readied themselves for one final push.

“The Glorium arrives in six minutes. Go go go!” Flurry urged.

One by one, the Swallows came to life once more, their running lights like bright stars in the gloom.

“I’m amazed that dirt pony managed to convince Downdraft to come,” Swan commented.

“Yeah! Merry is going to be pissed when he hears about this!” Blitz said with a laugh.

“Never underestimate the stubbornness of an earth pony,” Flurry said. “That Oakheart isn’t somepony you want to take lightly.”

“I hear that,” Swan agreed. “Is everypony ready?”

“Are you ready, Whammy?” Flurry asked, feeling the comforting weight of the plushie pressed against her chest. “Let’s go do something stupid.”

With a downward thrust of her wings, her engines roared into life. The Dream burst from the asteroid like an arrow shot from a bow, streaking back towards the Orion.

Behind her, Swan and her comrades formed up into broad V formation around her once again. It was a repeat of their first charge at the changeling cruiser, only this time, things would be a little different.

They dove down deeper into a cluster of asteroids, approaching the Syndicate cruiser from below. With all that gunk and hangar space, it made for quite the blind spot to attack from. At the very least, they wouldn’t have to deal with much flak as they approached.

Flurry gazed upward, the Dream’s sensors quickly highlighting the cruiser and the Orion above them. Even at this distance, the Orion was huge, dwarfing everything around her. The massive ship’s broad wings glinted in the sunlight, looking majestic. Now, all they had to do was clean off all the junk clinging to her.

Circling both ships was a reinforced cluster of drones along with their controllers. They buzzed around like a swarm of angry hornets that’d just had their nest kicked.

Flurry felt a smile creeping onto her muzzle as she looked up at them. All she needed to do was annoy them enough so they would give chase. It was a good thing that annoying people to distraction was one of her special talents.

Suddenly, a blizzard of angry-red threat indicators lit up her vision. It seemed that their dance partners had spotted them.

“Okay, stick to the plan,” Flurry said, fighting her rising excitement. “Make one pass and run like hell. I’ll deal with the rest.”

“You heard her,” Swan said as the formation pulled up together to begin their run on the cruiser.

“Right behind you, Sabre Lead,” Blitz said.

Flurry brought the Dream’s engines to full power, a deep rumble running through the ship as she accelerated. She wove around and between the smaller asteroids, hoping to confuse the cruiser’s targeting sensors.

They were soon met by thick puffs of exploding flak ahead of them as the cruiser turned what guns it could on them. She could see the muzzle flashes from within the growth along its belly.

The Dream rattled briefly, a tiny blossom of pain running down Flurry’s side as if she had brushed against a thorn bush. The shrapnel from the flak burst mostly bounced off her hull like hail during a storm, but it would be enough to rip straight through one of Swan’s fighters.

“They’re getting mighty close,” a worried voice buzzed on the radio.

“Steady, Rapier Four,” Swan replied, though she sounded a bit rattled too.

The flak eased, only to be replaced by an avalanche of drones as they dove down to meet them. Red and blue tracer fire lit up the space between them as both groups charged into each other.

Flurry wove through the mass, picking off anything stupid enough to get in her way. Swan and her fighters continued onwards with her, this time not breaking off to engage the drones in another melee.

Their move took the changelings by surprise, the drones slowing as their quarry raced past them.

A chorus of launch calls went through Swan’s group as they let loose nearly all their missiles into the belly of the cruiser. White contrails streaked into the bloated growths, satisfying explosions tearing into its twisted form. It wasn’t enough to do any meaningful damage, but it served its purpose.

Glancing back, Flurry saw Swan’s fighters breaking away and making a run for the shelter of the asteroid field. That just left the Dream and the cruiser.

She flew as close to the cruiser’s hull as she dared, weaving in between the forest of gun emplacements and hull-mounted equipment. She quickly picked out the boarding tubes that had impaled themselves into some of the Orion’s docking hatches.

With carefully aimed bursts from her guns, she cut them open one by one like a gardener pruning a bush. As one burst apart, a host of black figures spilled from it, a screaming feral changeling bouncing off the Dream’s nose as she flew through them.

Flurry’s fun was short-lived as angry blue tracers streaked by her face. Glancing back, she could see a blizzard of threat indicators fill her vision.

“Looks like they’ve taken the bait,” Flurry said with a grin, spinning the Dream and quickly powering off into the open space around the Orion.

As she sped away, something caught her eye. Stretching from the cruiser to the Orion was a series of thick cables. With her attention focused on the boarding tubes she had missed them before, but now the soft glow was hard to ignore. A blue light pulsed in a rhythmic beat through them and into the Orion.

“What are you up to…?” Flurry mused before a blue bolt streaking by her face brought her back to the moment. “Oookay, never mind.”

She ducked and weaved as the swarm of drones pursued her, now seeing her as the more important target.

“Now for the finishing touch,” she chuckled, throwing the Dream into a spin and fluctuating her engine’s output.

Spinning and seemingly out of control, she quickly formed a shield around the Dream. The drones surrounded her, pummelling her mercilessly with their guns.

“Okay, Oakheart, I’ve set the table. Are you ready?” Flurry asked.

“In position,” Oakheart replied. “Just one small issue to take care of. Stand by.”

“Wait, what?”

“What do you mean you won’t jump the Glorium into realspace?” Oakheart asked, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.

Standing there, garbed in the purple robes of the Guild, was a middle-aged unicorn mare. She was tall and slender, her blue coat and pink mane both well styled. The bracelets on her forelegs chinked together as she raised a hoof in protest.

“With respect, captain, to attempt a jump here is suicide.”

“I am well aware of the risk, navigator,” he replied sternly. “You have the jump data Flurry Heart sent us, don’t you?”

“Of course, and while the data is… impressive in its accuracy,” she began, the admission sounding forced. “Without something like a physical beacon to lock onto, any ship making the jump risks colliding with an asteroid or even the Orion herself when they emerge. And even then, everything drifts in space, captain—you know that. Those coordinates are likely already compromised.”

“Not to ruin your little tea party, but I’m being bloody shot at out here!” Flurry yelled through the comms channel, her voice making some of the crew jump. At that moment, Oak realised he had left Flurry hanging. He quickly tapped his holo-brace to resume transmitting.

“Our navigator is refusing to jump in with the coordinates you gave us,” Oakheart stated, glaring at the navigator. “She’s demanding an active beacon signal if you’ve got one.”

“Kind of in the middle of a fight here. Nothing I launch would last two seconds,” came her reply. “Just tell her to use her damn brain. Read the gravity shadows, find the gap, and go.”

Oak simply looked back to the navigator, who seemed taken aback at Flurry’s recommendation. She shook her head with a scowl.

“I… don’t think she’s gonna go for that, Flurry.”

There was an unladylike snort from Flurry. “Fine, you want a beacon? Target the jump point on my exact position.” Just then, a light flashed on the navigator’s console confirming a lock-on.

“What?!” he gasped. “You’ll be killed!”

Even Downdraft perked up at this, a look of blind panic in his eyes.

Oakheart did his best to compose himself. He couldn’t let the others see him losing his cool. Even so, he felt his chest tighten. He had already lost too many ponies today, and he couldn’t afford to lose her as well.

“There’s no way you’ll be able to escape the vortex aperture in time,” he said. “There must be another way.”

“You let me worry about that, captain,” she replied. “Relax, I’ve done dumber things than this. Just make sure that amateur doesn’t botch it, okay?”

Oakheart allowed himself a smile. “I’m sure not exploding is sufficient motivation for her.”

He wasn’t sure what it was that made him believe she could do it. The fact she was an alicorn? Was it simply her reputation? Whatever it was quelled the storm that had swept through his emotions.

“Now, will this suffice, navigator?”

The unicorn stood there like she had just swallowed an angry bee.

“It will suffice,” the mare said simply.

“Good, now return to your station and begin jump preparations,” Oakheart ordered.

The mare went to sit down but then glanced over her shoulder. “Just so you know, the Guild will not compensate you in the event of a mirror jump related accident.”

Of course, he thought darkly. One must always think of one’s reputation.

“Duly noted,” he replied, glancing over towards Downdraft, who now looked like he was going to be sick.

Everypony else on the bridge seemed to be looking in the shipmaster’s direction as well, expecting an objection, but the pegasus remained silent. Instead, he consoled himself with long drags from his shisha pipe.

“All stations, prepare to jump,” Oakheart said. “All squadrons ready to launch on my mark.”

“Opening the portal in ten seconds,” the navigator stated, beginning to count down.

Swan Song had to admit when Flurry Heart had told them her plan, she never believed the alicorn could pull it off. Even harder to believe was that Oakheart, that lump of pony-shaped granite, had agreed to go along with it.

Yet now, from their vantage point in the asteroid cluster, she watched as Flurry Heart drew the changeling drones to herself.

They quickly surrounded the Fleeting Dream, now lazily spinning, her engines spluttering. The drones began mercilessly pummeling the drifting ship, yet no shots landed. The Dream was enveloped in a golden bubble that rippled with every impact.

“Shouldn’t we help her?” Cinnamon asked nervously.

“No, this is part of her plan,” Swan replied, though she had to admit, she didn’t like just sitting back and watching either.

“Last Shadow had better hurry; the carrier is going to be jumping right on top of her!” Blitz said.

Swan’s sensors lit up as they detected a magical energy surge right where Flurry was still sitting. It was the hallmark of a mirror portal being opened, and sure enough, a tiny pinprick of light appeared. The changelings must have detected it as well, for they began to scatter in every direction in a desperate attempt to flee.

The pinprick suddenly exploded outwards as a tear into mirrorspace formed, the energy waves ripping into the changeling ships. Several simply vanished as the massive outflow of thaumatic energy tore them asunder.

The Fleeting Dream remained still, right up to the point the vortex overtook it. Then… it was gone. Swan could have sworn her sensors showed a flash of golden light at the last instant.

She gasped and frantically checked her readings again, only for the Dream to suddenly appear in front of her in a burst of magic. Her eyes widened as the ship pulled up alongside her.

“Phew, close one there,” Flurry said with a relieved sigh. “Nearly didn’t make it.”

Swan’s mind spun with a myriad of questions over what had just happened, but they were swept aside as the Glorium emerged from the jump vortex. Never had that ostentatious hunk of scrap looked so beautiful as it rammed through the surviving drones. They smashed against the Glorium’s hull, exploding in bright balls of blue fire as it swept them aside.

“Welcome to the party!” Flurry whooped over the radio. “Splattered a few bugs on your windshield when you jumped in!”

Swan had never seen such a sight in her life. It went against everything she had been taught at the academy. Carriers were meant to hang back, outside the battle, not plough straight into the middle of it.

Trust a dirt pony to use their ship like a cudgel, she mused.

From the Glorium’s dorsal launchers, several volleys of missiles roared upwards, streaking vertically before heading towards the cruiser. In the chaos of counter-missile fire, the four hulking shapes of Falchion squadron’s corvettes streaked out from their launch bays like blazing comets.

They were swiftly followed by the torpedo bombers of Tomahawk squadron. The large and distinctive frames of Heron torpedo bombers were easy to distinguish, even from this distance.

“Sabre and Rapier squadrons, return to the carrier,” Oakheart’s calm voice boomed in Swan’s ear.

She had never felt more grateful to hear that dirt pony’s voice than at that moment.

“You heard him, everypony head to the carrier, and be careful not to get hit in the crossfire,” she said, watching the Glorium make a wide arcing turn to starboard.

“You kids be safe now. I’ve still got work to do out here,” Flurry said, roaring off once again.

Swan focused on shepherding the remnants of her unit towards the Glorium, which was currently trying to stay ahead of the cruiser’s long-range guns. She watched with satisfaction as Falchion’s corvettes dove onto the cruiser, strafing its gun turrets. Now that the drones were cleared, it was up to them to clear the way for the bombers.

“Glorium, we’re coming in. We’ve got a lot of wounded birds, so be ready for us,” she said.

“We copy, Sabre Lead, deck crews are standing by,” the flight control officer replied. “Landing bay is open.”

Swan felt a glimmer of relief as she watched her squadmates landing one by one. But the fact that they were exchanging one type of danger for another weighed heavily on her mind. The Glorium was currently engaged in a knife fight with something far better armed than itself. Death was just a lucky hit away.

It was all down to Falchion and Tomahawk now.

“Tomahawk Lead, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Swan called, gazing at the formation of bombers.

“Hey, Sabre Lead, you fillies and colts rest up; we’ll take it from here,” Contrail replied, his bombers splitting off into pairs.

“We’ve cleared out the drones, so that cruiser can’t have many left,” she remarked.

“Quite a party you had here,” Contrail said. “We were worried none of you were going to make it.”

“You don’t get out that easy, Tomahawk Lead,” she chuckled.

“Let’s all have a drink when this is over,” he said. “Okay, Tomahawk squadron, Mother Hen is watching. Let’s make it a good show.”

The first two bombers started their runs as Falchion’s corvettes raced ahead to suppress the flak batteries. It was something even Merry’s cronies had prepared them for, the only difference being this wasn’t the Alliance they were fighting.

Swan knew she should have landed with the rest of her squadron, but instead, she brought her ship to a stop outside the carrier. Her wingmate, Blitz, stayed at her side.

“You coming?” he asked.

“In a moment. I want to watch the rest of the aerie finish the fight.”

The first two Herons went in, idle puffs of flak going off around them. Once they were in range, they loosed their torpedoes, the fighter-sized rockets roaring away from their launchers.

It was a textbook launch, and Swan watched as they headed towards the cruiser’s main long-range cannon. She waited for the flash as the torpedoes struck the target…

Only to watch them detonate harmlessly, thirty canters before impact.

“What? What happened?” Contrail gasped.

“No impact, Tomahawk Lead,” his wingmate said.

Swan frowned. Had they been given defective torpedoes?

Then she saw the familiar energy trails of drones buzzing close to the cruiser.

“What? I thought we bagged them all!” Blitz growled.

“Evidently not,” Swan grumbled, watching as two more torpedoes were shot down before impact.

The Shurikens were hugging the cruiser, only emerging to intercept incoming missiles. At first, there were only two or three, but their numbers were growing.

It was impossible. The cruiser couldn’t possibly have any more drones left!

A bright flash broke her train of thought, and she looked up to see the Glorium’s starboard wing ablaze. The cruiser’s dorsal guns had finally found their mark, tearing at the thin-skinned carrier.

“What’ll we do, Sabre Lead?” Blitz asked. “If those torps can’t take that gun out, the carrier is done for.”

“And we can’t get close enough to clear out the drones,” Swan replied. “If we could just…”

Her voice trailed off as she focused on the cruiser’s drone bays. Shurikens were periodically launching from the bay in groups of ones and twos. The launch tube looked just big enough for...

“I have an idea,” she said. “I’m going to make a run for the cruiser’s drone bay and try to get inside the hangar.”

“Swan, are you insane? You’ll never make it,” Blitz exclaimed.

“Hate to side with Blitz, but he’s right,” Contrail said. “You’ve no idea if you’d even fit or if your ship will get stuck once inside.”

She let out a sigh. They were right, of course. She had no idea if what she was planning was even possible, but she had to try something.

“If we don’t do something soon, the Glorium won’t last ten minutes,” she said bluntly. “If I can damage the launch bay, it might give us a fighting chance. You know I’m right.”

“Then I’ll do it,” Blitz said, the anger rising in his voice.

“No, I have to. You said it yourself, there’s no guarantee it’ll even work,” she said softly. “I won’t order any of you to do this. It’s my plan.”

“Swan…”

Swan had never heard that shift in his voice before, a dejection that struck at her heart.

“Sabre Two, this is a direct order, you are to provide support until I complete my run, then return to the carrier, understood?” she ordered, feeling like her heart was about to burst.

“I… yes, Sabre Lead, I understand,” he replied, his hesitation fading.

“I need somepony to take over if I don’t make it,” she said. “I need you to lead the aerie out of this mess. You’re the only pony that can do this, Blitz. Are you with me?”

There was silence for a moment, and she looked back to his fighter trailing on her right. She hated putting this on him, but there was nopony else the others trusted.

“Okay. Sabre Lead, what’s the plan?” he said reluctantly with a heavy sigh.

“Thank you, Blitz,” she said before clearing her throat. “How many missiles do you have left?”

“Two.”

She had two as well. She just hoped that would be enough.

“Falchion Lead, I’d like you to make a dummy run towards the rear of the cruiser. Hopefully, it’ll distract the flak batteries long enough for me to slip inside,” she said. “We’ll approach from below and use the Orion for cover on my way in. Fleeting Dream, have you been listening?”

“I copy, what do you need?” Flurry replied.

“Can you give me some extra cover?”

“Sure thing! This sounds like my kind of crazy!” the alicorn chuckled. “Just don’t get yourself killed, we need to have a talk, and I don’t fancy having it with a bowl full of ashes.”

Swan smiled to herself. Here she was, relying on the infamous war criminal, Last Shadow, to keep her alive. Fate had a strange sense of humour.

“Okay, everypony, let’s do this,” she said, gunning her engines once more and diving down into the shadow of the Orion. “Falchion Lead, let me know when you’re in position.”

“Copy, Sabre Lead.”

With most of the Shurikens protecting their ship, it was relatively quiet beneath the Orion. The bulk of the massive ship hid the battle going on above.

Blitz was with her, his presence at her side reassuring as she mentally prepared herself. There was so much she wanted to say to her friend, in case the worst happened, but nothing came. Any words she had for him died before they reached her lips.

“So how are we going to do this?” Blitz asked.

“We fire off our missiles together at the launch bay. Hopefully, it’ll punch a hole through anything that might be covering the launch tube,” she explained.

Assuming their hangars are similar to the ones on the Glorium, that is, she thought morbidly. Otherwise, I’m a pancake.

“Okay, I’ll make sure your exit is clear when you’re done in there,” he said, then added in a softer voice… “Just be careful, Swan. We’ve still got to take down Merry, remember?”

She smiled. “Always, my friend.”

“Sabre Lead, we’re making our runs now,” Contrail said. “Good hunting, and may the Winds be forever at your back.”

“I copy, Tomahawk,” she replied, letting out a breath. “Let’s go, Sabre Two.”

With a thrust of her wings, her ship roared upwards, the bulk of Orion rapidly growing larger as she raced towards it. The whine of the engines screamed in her ears as her wounded ship gave everything it had left to her.

Blitz was right beside her as they crossed over the Orion’s starboard wing and into the battle. She could see Contrail’s bombers heading in from various directions, supported by the corvettes from Falchion squadron. Already, they were engaged by the cruiser’s remaining flak batteries, now struggling to cope with so many targets at once.

Flurry Heart did her part as well, reminding the beleaguered changeling ship that there was still a rogue alicorn on the loose.

As they raced along the Orion’s hull, they saw the swarm of fighters thinning away from the launch bays. They had their opening.

“Making our run now,” she said, pulling her fighter into a steep climb.

The cruiser was rapidly approaching as she toggled to her missiles. With a few eye movements, the reticle glowed red as it locked onto their target.

The missiles screeched off their hardpoints and spiralled towards their target, joined by Blitz’s salvo. Several Shurikens that had just emerged outside were caught in the blast and disintegrated in the growing fireball.

Swan eased off on the throttle and diverted energy into her braking thrusters, feeling her stomach lurch at the g-forces pressing down on her. The fireball cleared, revealing a gaping hole torn into the organic-looking shell surrounding the launch bay. Wisps of gas hissed from the wound they had torn into the bay.

“Okay, here I go!” she winced as she angled her ship to fit through the gap.

There was the sound of metal scraping against metal and a shower of sparks as she surged through the hole.

She fired every thruster she had as a ribbed ceiling of blue-purple chitin greeted her, the Swallow narrowly missing the hangar ceiling as it came into a hover.

The rush of air escaping carried away a thick, purple-hued fog that took anything not bolted down with it. This ended quickly as the hull breach sealed itself, the fog soon returning.

Inside was a vast chamber that looked to have been cut through several decks. Several vertical conveyors lowered Shuriken frames down from above. Mechanical arms whirred furiously as they descended, welding components and panels onto the drone. Sparks from the arc welders fell down continuously like golden rain onto the deck below.

This isn’t a hangar, it’s a factory! Swan realized.

A blue light pulsed periodically from the walls, highlighting tunnels seemingly carved into the growths. She watched as several figures that looked like pegasi at first glance scurried into them.

A long line of drones ran from the assembly towards the launch tubes, but it wasn’t this that drew her attention. Mounted in a circular conveyor beside each drone were glass tubes filled with a glowing, bright blue fluid. Within them bobbed what looked to be…

Swan’s eyes widened in disbelief. She fought off the urge to vomit as she gazed into the empty eye sockets of a pony skull floating in the fluid. It still possessed its spinal column, and thin veins of blood vessels and nerves splayed out from it like roots. It periodically convulsed as if seeking out its body now lost.

It was still alive! The thought sent a new wave of revulsion through her, her body heaving with dry wretches.

When Flurry had idly mentioned what the Syndicate did to you if you were caught, Swan dismissed it as hyperbole meant to put a little fear into her squadrons. She never imagined it was literal fact. How could they do this to another living being? It was wrong, so terribly wrong.

Her sickness was replaced by furious rage that surged up from her core. This had to stop. This mockery of science had to stop!

Tears forming in her eyes, Swan squeezed the triggers on her Swallow’s pulse cannons. Red tracers tore at the horror scene in front of her, reducing it to molten vapour. She spun her fighter, raking everything she could see with shots, seeking to wipe the scene clean from her eyes.

Drones shattered, and the machines exploded in a shower of sparks, their carcasses tumbling to the deck. Bright blue explosions ripped through the factory, reducing everything to molten piles of wreckage. Still, she kept firing, a wordless scream on her lips.

Then, the firing stopped, snapping her out of her trance. A red light blinked in front of her, alerting that she had depleted her weapons reserves. The safeties had left her CAPS just enough charge for a bit of life support and flying. She gazed at the scene of destruction before her, panting heavily.

Black smoke choked the room, billowing from a hundred sources. The fire suppression system hissed white gas to try and smother the flames, but they continued to grow.

Suddenly, a large explosion at the far end of the factory tore through the wreckage. Swan fought with her controls as a debris-filled shockwave rocked her fighter.

An audible groan of tortured metal reverberated even through Swan’s canopy. The whole interior of the ship began to rock as more internal explosions erupted around her.

Time to go! Swan’s mind screamed.

She quickly maneuvered her Swallow to go back the way she came. As she readied herself, she found her way blocked by rapidly hardening sealant covering the hull breach she had made.

No choice, now or never! she thought to herself, glancing over to see a wall of flame approaching her.

With a panicked beat of her wings, the Swallow’s engines roared to life. Her fighter ploughed back down the hole she had created, scraping and tearing as she went.

The sealant offered a slight resistance but was quickly torn open as Swan Song made her escape.

Looking back, she saw a bright blue explosion gush from the ship’s launch tubes. The cruiser buckled from the detonation, her outer plates rippling from the shock wave.

A satisfied smile crossed her face as she watched the changeling fighters scatter.

It was ripped away when her ship lurched and pain shot through her right wing as she saw a chunk of her ship break off.

Eject! Eject! Her displays urged as she reached for the handles on either side of her cockpit. The g-forces turned even this simple effort into a struggle.

“Swan!” she heard Blitz cry as her canopy’s explosive bolts fired and she was launched out into space.

She was disoriented from the link with her ship severing so abruptly. She spun on her flight couch, fighting against her rising panic as she watched her ship explode. All she could do now was hold her forelegs up as chunks of debris raced towards her.

Flurry Heart grinned as she watched the explosion rip the guts out of the changeling cruiser. It strained against the cables that held it to the Orion, desperate to cling onto its prize. As it reeled from rippling secondary blasts, torpedoes from the Glorium’s bombers struck it from all sides. The deadly guns finally fell silent as plumes of black smoke billowed out from its buckled hull.

The kid had done it!

“Told ya, Whammy, the kid’s got skills,” she remarked, spinning the Dream around so she could get a good look at the fireworks. “Yeah, her aerie is lucky to have her.”

Flurry’s jubilation was soured at the thought of Merry Weather claiming all the glory for Swan’s work. They all deserved to have their blackwing brands removed, but would he?

Then there was Flurry’s own blackwing problem.

She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to be worrying about it. The battle around the Orion was a mopping up operation now. All they had to do now was clean out any bugs Nyx hadn’t already dealt with and it would be over.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Blitz’s frantic calls over the radio. “Flurry! Flurry! Do you copy?”

“I read you, Blitz. What’s wrong?” she asked, a concerned frown crossing her brow. He sounded worried, scared even.

“It’s Swan! I think… I think…”

“Slow down, tell me what happened,” she said calmly, though the panic in his voice was enough to make her tense.

“She blew up! I-I didn’t see her eject. I think she’s gone!” His voice continued on, but it faded away, becoming a distant murmuring. She could hear him over the radio, desperately asking her what he should do.

Flurry slumped in her couch, her ears flattening.

Swan couldn’t be dead. That mare had given her word!

No.

With a upward beat of her wings, she spurred the Dream on and headed towards the changeling cruiser, still wreathed in flames from its burning launch bays.

The area around the cruiser was filled with wreckage and debris from the battle. Inert drones drifted about like scattered toys, being slowly picked off by the corvettes.

“Give me her last known position,” Flurry said flatly.

“But she’s—”

“Just do it, Blitz,” she insisted.

Flurry had to know. She had to see it with her own eyes to be sure.

As she neared the location, she spotted the wreckage of Swan’s fighter, now little more than chunks of twisted metal. They had spread out like a shotgun blast, still travelling along Swan’s final course.

“Scan for pegasus thaumatic signatures,” she said with a sigh. “Wide angle.”

“Affirmative. Stand by.”

If Swan had been in the ship when it exploded, then there would be residue left on the fragments. Flurry didn’t want to think the worst, but it wasn’t looking good.

“Signature detected. Distance: Thirty kilocanters and increasing,” the Dream said, a blue circle appearing in the bottom right of her vision.

Zooming in, she could see a Swallow’s flight couch assembly, a prone figure still strapped to it as it spun.

So she did eject! Flurry thought to herself, releasing the breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Despite her relief, she knew she couldn’t relax just yet. The fact that Swan hadn’t tried to contact anypony meant her equipment had failed, or she was too injured to respond.

Flurry maneuvered the Dream, carefully nursing her speed so she could approach Swan without splattering her across the ship’s nose.

“Warning, signature decreasing,” the Dream announced suddenly.

A knot of worry formed in Flurry’s chest as she saw the thaumatic signature flickering like the embers of a dying fire. Something was wrong. Even detached from the ship, the Swallow’s flight couch was designed to sustain a pilot for at least twelve hours.

As Flurry closed in, she could see a thin gout of gas coming from the flight couch.

It must have been damaged when she ejected! She thought to herself. Damn it, no time to pick her up—she’s fading too fast!

“Continue pursuit of target,” she said, disengaging her link to the Dream and clambouring up from her flight couch. “I’m going outside. Have all data linked to my holo-brace.”

“Affirmative.”

Flurry scrambled to find an air bubble collar, teleporting to the airlock and putting it over her head with haste. She then looked out through the thick omniglass window of the outer hatch to where she saw the dim form of Swan’s flight couch, rotating in the void. With over a thousand years of experience in judging such distances, she focused the proper amount of energy through her horn and jumped.

An instant later, she reappeared just in front of Swan.

Grasping the couch in her telekinesis and extending her wings, she began to arrest the spin using her own flight magic.

Swan lay prone in her couch, her head slumped to one side. Flurry grimly observed the massive crack in Swan’s faceplate, her precious oxygen having almost completely bled away into space. There was no time to lose; the mare would be dead in just a moment.

“Warning, cardiac arrest imminent,” flashed before Flurry’s eyes as she unbuckled the pegasus from her couch. There was no time!

Flurry swallowed, there was only one thing she could do, and it was going to hurt a lot. Letting all the air out of her lungs, she pulled off her bubble collar, ignoring the warnings it gave.

She had experienced full vacuum a few times in her life, and every time it sucked. Her body might be able to handle it, but her face, not so much. Her eyes burned as the temperature and pressure change hit her like a freight train. Icy tendrils clawed at her throat and lungs as the last wisps of air drifted out her nostrils and crystallized into frozen dust before her.

She hurriedly slid the collar over Swan’s head as her vision blurred and her body began to succumb to the vacuum.

With the bubble formed over the pegasus mare’s head, Flurry gently removed her broken helmet. Swan instinctively took deep gulps of air, her chest rising and falling in a reassuring rhythm. Flurry would have smiled if it didn’t hurt so much.

Now, she had to get out of here. Her chest was on fire as her body cried out for oxygen. She unbuckled Swan from the flight couch and pulled her into a hug. Looking around for the Dream, everything was a blurry mass of vague shapes and bright lights.

She saw something large and immediately reached out for it. Grasping onto Swan, she teleported, aiming for the centre mass of the object. Even with her vision shot, she should be able to land them right inside the Dream’s cargo bay.

Appearing once more, she was again confronted with the icy vacuum of empty space.

Her mind raced, where was the Dream? She knew she had jumped the right distance!

Her body was starting to convulse as her vision began to fade. She grasped onto Swan tightly, unwilling to let her go. It took all she had to just grasp a moment of clarity to think.

If it wasn’t the Dream she had been aiming for, it must have been the Orion. She could reach it with another teleport, but she had no idea of the Orion’s internal layout. If she botched it, they both could rematerialise inside a bulkhead or worse. Still, it was that or suffocate to death.

Her blood now boiling and her body screaming for relief, she focused her thaumatic energy one last time, and jumped.

Chapter 13 - And You Thought it was Over

Flurry could hear something at the edge of her perception calling to her. Muffled blurs of sight and sound taunted her cold and numb body, every sensation so distant it felt like she was watching from the afterlife.

She was lying on her back as far as she could tell, her wings splayed out against cold metal.

The vague outline of a pony appeared in her vision, nearly lost in the blinking lights casting bloody shadows over them.

“What’s going on? What happened to you?” a voice demanded.

It was a mare’s voice, familiar somehow. Where had she heard it before? It was somepony important, but she couldn’t remember. The voice was full of confusion and fear, but why?

“Damn it, Flurry, snap out of it!”

Something hard struck her face, jostling her out of her daze. The world of sound fell back into sharp, painful focus, though the blurry colored shapes refused to behave. Flurry fought for clarity as her mind began to catch back up with her body.

Her muscles convulsed as she drew a ragged breath into shrivelled lungs. Pain blossomed across her chest, her heart pounding so hard she felt it was about to escape her ribcage. She clamped her eyes shut out of instinct, rolled onto her side, and retched, her whole body quivering from the effort to take each breath.

“Oh, thank the Winds!” the mare said with a relieved sigh. “That’s it, just one breath at a time.”

Every time Flurry exhaled, it set off another bout of wet, gurgling coughs. Her throat felt like she had swallowed a hive of bees wrapped in sandpaper. After a long fit of coughing, she finally managed to calm down enough to stop being a convulsing mess.

On top of that, her eyes itched like crazy, and she grimaced as she tried to open them again. Everything was still a disorientating blur, but with each painful blink, the world gained a little more focus.

Swan Song was sitting on her haunches beside her, a hoof gently stroking Flurry’s back. The mare’s eyes were wide, her ears pinned, though a look of relief fell onto her face. She was still wearing the air bubble collar, which was draped over her neck, a faint shimmer over her head showing it was still engaged.

Flurry managed a weak smile.

“Hey… Swan,” she croaked, immediately regretting it as each word caused pain to shoot up her throat.

“Try not to talk,” Swan replied, reaching for a small pouch at her waist and drawing out a survival hydration pack. “Here, drink this.”

A straw was thrust into Flurry’s face, and she gingerly grasped it in her mouth. Her lips were cracked and split, fresh pain blooming across her face as she held the straw. It took extraordinary effort to take the first sip, her battered insides straining from the effort. The water felt so good going down, she wanted to gulp it all at once.

“Take it slow,” Swan said gently.

For a short while, silence reigned. Flurry slowly drank while Swan held the pack in place. Her cheek throbbed for some reason, and she gingerly gave it a rub.

As Flurry drank and her body began to calm down from its initial panic, rationality began to return. She could remember now how they’d ended up here—wherever here was. She had been aiming for the Dream, but this was definitely not her ship.

Eventually, Swan withdrew the empty survival pack.

“You were a mess when I came to,” she said finally. “You were covered in ice. Your eyes… they were frozen! What happened? The last thing I remember was my ship exploding.”

The pegasus mare slumped, her wings drooping at her sides. She raised a hoof to the collar around her neck. “This is yours, isn’t it?”

Flurry nodded slowly.

“But how…” Swan’s words trailed off, realisation dawning in her eyes as she ran her hoof along the collar. “Y-you rescued me. I don’t understand.”

Flurry gingerly reached a hoof to hers.

“Helmet… cracked… no… time,” she rasped, the pain forcing a pause between each word.

Swan’s eyes widened and her lip trembled. “But why? You got what you wanted from me. Why risk yourself?”

Flurry smiled softly, though it might have looked more like a pained grimace, she wasn’t quite sure.

“Promise,” she said simply, hooking her foreleg around Swan’s to give it a squeeze.

Swan looked down at the gesture like it was some foreign, alien thing. Flurry could see the mare trying to process what she had said, a heavy frown crossing the pegasus’ brow.

Swan’s eyes glistened, and she wiped away a tear.

“I don’t understand. That can’t be the reason,” Swan said, shaking her head. “You want something. Everypony always wants something from us.”

Swan looked away, her shoulders shaking as she fought to keep her emotions in check.

Flurry shook her head. What could she say to a mare that had spent her adult life being used and discarded by others?

She swallowed and prepared herself. This was going to hurt, but Swan needed to hear it.

“Don’t… want anything. Just… for you… to be…” Flurry began, having to take a breath between words. She began coughing again as her scratchy throat overcame her effort to speak. There was a pause as she collected herself.

“Be what?” Swan asked.

“Free.”

Swan looked back at her, desperate hope in her eyes overriding the ever-present suspicion. Flurry simply smiled. There wasn’t much else she could do while lying on the floor.

“Damn you,” Swan said. “Why do you have to make this so hard?” She paced away, her wings fidgeting at her sides. “Why can’t you be like Last Shadow from the stories? Then I could hate you without question. Now I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.”

The pegasus mare shook her head, wiping her glistening eyes and letting out a heavy sigh. “I want to trust you, Flurry, but it’s hard. Hard to let go.”

Flurry gave her an understanding nod. As a grand master of holding a grudge, she knew how hard it was to let go. This was something that would take time to heal.

She moved to stand, but her legs wobbled for an instant before giving out. She flopped down with a grunt, trying to will her limbs to steady themselves.

“Here, let me help you,” Swan offered, walking to her and extending a foreleg.

Flurry eyed Swan for a moment. The pegasus was looking away, trying to seem nonplussed about it, but the significance of the gesture was not lost on her.

She reached up and hooked her foreleg around Swan’s.

“Okay, one, two, three!” Swan grunted, bracing herself and tugging as Flurry rose to her hooves.

Flurry staggered, and Swan moved to her side, leaning against her. At first, even standing was difficult, but her legs soon began to steady.

“You really shouldn’t be moving around, but trying to talk sense into you is pointless,” Swan said.

Flurry chuckled, though the effort made her wince. She felt like an old mare being taken back to her room by her caretaker.

“Let’s focus on getting out of here,” Swan said, tugging at the bubble collar. “Can you turn this thing off?”

Flurry grinned and nodded, gesturing for her to turn a little. Tapping gently on the control jewel, she dispelled the bubble. Swan then took in a breath and slowly let it out.

“Thanks. For this and also for helping me,” Swan said, her voice quiet. “I just wanted you to know before we continue.”

Flurry gave her a nod in reply. There was a lot she wanted to say, but with her larynx feeling like someone had taken a cheese grater to it, she elected not to give it any more reason to hurt.

“Anyway, let’s go,” Swan said sheepishly as the pair began hobbling away.

Flurry found her eyesight improving past the next doorway. She could see Swan clearly, but everything beyond a few canters was still a blur. Within that blur, she could just make out a dark corridor and the vague shapes of signs on its walls lit by the pulsing red emergency lighting.

“Are you able to get any communications with that?” Swan asked, gesturing to Flurry’s holo-brace.

Flurry tapped away for a few moments, shaking her head when she could only get a burst of static from the brace. “Can’t get a signal,” Flurry said, her raspy voice making her wince. It was still a marked improvement over her bullfrog voice of five minutes prior. “Then again, this cheap piece of crap ain’t got much of a range.”

Flurry glanced around the corridor, her brow furrowed in thought. “I think we’re on the Orion.”

“Wait, you think this is the Orion?”

“Well, it was the biggest thing I could see when I teleported,” Flurry shrugged.

“How can you see in space without a helmet?”

Flurry thought for a moment. “You saw my eyes. Take a guess.”

“Yeah,” Swan acknowledged. “The cruiser. That’s pretty big.”

“We’d be up to our flanks in rabid ferals if it was. Or, you know, burning to death in that little mess you caused.”

Swan shivered. “Let’s not talk about that, please.”

“Oh, and we also could have materialised inside one of the Orion’s bulkheads. That would have ended all our problems right there.”

“Okay, stop. Sorry I asked,” Swan spat out. “You know, for someone with a wicked sore throat, you don’t seem to mind making the effort to be a smartass,” she added.

“I aim to please,” Flurry snarked—before paying the price with a small coughing fit.

“So, where are we anyway?” Swan asked, scowling.

Flurry tapped up the schematics of the Orion she had stored on her holo brace, generating a basic outline of the ship. Judging from where she was when she picked up Swan, the most likely area within her teleportation range would be somewhere near the crew quarters.

Her top priority was finding Nyx, and she would probably be where the fighting was thickest. Flurry pointed a hoof up towards the dorsal wing and the bridge.

“So we need to find an elevator?” Swan asked rhetorically.

Flurry nodded.

Swan’s wings shifted irritably. “If this was a pegasus ship, we could just find an atrium and—”

“And most ponies don’t like plunging to their deaths down a big hole in their ship,” Flurry countered.

“Not my fault they weren’t born with wings,” Swan grumbled.

Flurry rolled her eyes at the lieutenant’s irritation before trying to walk past her. Swan quickly moved to her side, and they hobbled along together, passing through a series of interconnected rooms. Most were empty, the walls down to bare metal with exposed linkages and outlets for equipment yet to be installed.

Swan took the lead, guiding Flurry as they limped along together. After a few minutes, Flurry could feel the strength returning to her legs, but her blurry vision and itchy eyes made things difficult.

After a while, she was walking without help, but not before Swan’s head began bobbing like she was fighting off sleep. It seemed all the mare was running on was a heady cocktail of adrenaline and stubborn pegasus pride. Flurry would have offered to carry her if she was confident her legs wouldn’t give out and put them both on the floor. It was enough of a challenge just walking in a straight line.

Up ahead was a wider access corridor. As they entered, Flurry noticed the air becoming thicker. With it came a familiar sickly sweet smell, like overripe fruit left out in the sun.

“What’s that smell?” Swan asked, staggering slightly. “I feel… great?” She started to giggle under her breath.

Flurry could feel it too, a wash of happiness, joy, and contentment all swirling into her mind through the aroma. She could feel fragments of emotions dancing at the edges of her perception where memories should have been. These weren’t her emotions, but somepony else’s.

Flurry let out a snort, wiping her nose with a fetlock as she asserted control once again.

She looked over to Swan. The mare’s eyes had glazed over, and a silly smile was creeping over her muzzle. She had stopped completely, staring in fascination at her own hoof.

Flurry quickly reached over and hit the activate button on Swan’s bubble collar, the enchantment flickering on in an instant.

“Wha…?” Swan murmured as the bubble forced out the contaminated air. Flurry guided her to sit down and let her head clear.

After a few moments, the pegasus shook her head, her face a little flushed. “Urgh, what was that? It’s like I just downed a whole tank of aerohol.”

“It’s a nectar bomb,” Flurry said. “The ferals must have tossed one around here somewhere. I’ve seen this trick before. A few more minutes and you’d have been unconscious in your own private paradise.”

“Nectar? What?”

“Changelings make it. Think of it like bee honey, only packed with the emotions they’ve gathered,” she explained.

“Will you be okay breathing it?”

Flurry let out a chuckle. “Oh, this is nothing. You should try eating a nectar stick, those’ll knock you on your ass.”

“You ate that stuff?” Swan said, a look of revulsion on her face.

“Really tasty,” Flurry grinned nostalgically. “I stole some from one of Nyx’s friends when I was a kid. I could get you some. I know a guy.”

A disgusted scowl crossed Swan’s face. “No thanks.”

Flurry calmly weathered the angry mumbling about back-alley alicorn drug deals, her mirth fading as they made their way down the corridor and began to see signs of combat. Scorch marks ran across the once pristine walls, and a lot of the lighting panels had been shot out.

“Stay close to me,” Flurry whispered, readying her shield spell.

They cautiously moved forward, keeping to the sides of the corridor and any cover they could find. It was quiet, but that didn’t mean there weren’t enemies out there. The emergency lighting wasn’t helping the situation either, as it cast deep shadows in the areas between the small beacons of light. Flurry could feel the tension in Swan’s body as they walked.

“There’s something up ahead,” Swan whispered, her voice tight and her ears perked and alert. To Flurry, everything was still a blur beyond a short distance—lots of vague shapes and shadows shifting as they walked.

Getting closer, Flurry made out the slumped form of a pony, surrounded by several changeling bodies. These were much larger than usual changelings found in the Conformity, their bodies swollen with muscle. Their wings had atrophied down to tiny stumps, and their wing cases were now solid chitin. The set of fangs that all changelings had were grown into sabre-like teeth, nearly twice the length of an average changeling’s.

Swan let out a gasp, her wide eyes staring at one of the bodies like it was going to leap up and bite her.

Flurry gave it a kick with a hoof. “I assure you, it’s quite dead.” She continued limping along while Swan stood staring at the bodies.

“Bastards,” Swan growled, her body quivering.

“Easy, kid,” Flurry urged softly. “Take that anger and use it, just don’t let it control you.”

“You don’t understand,” Swan hissed, clenching her teeth. “I saw what they did to those poor ponies on that cruiser. Butchered them and used them like spare parts! I won’t just sit by and let that happen!”

Flurry watched the mare seethe, giving one of the corpses a stomp before pacing away as her wings bristled at the wave of emotions threatening to consume her.

“Swan,” Flurry called, but when the mare didn’t respond, she repeated in a much firmer tone.

“Swan!”

“What?” Swan snorted.

“I know, okay? It’s rough seeing that stuff for the first time. You just want to lash out at everything,” she said, her voice softening slightly. “But I need you to focus. I can’t have my walking stick wandering off shooting up the place.”

“But—”

“Easy, take a breath,” she said, giving her a gentle smile. “We’ll get through this and make those responsible pay for it, but getting yourself all flustered isn’t going to help us. Besides, getting angry and doing something dumb is my job, and you’ve filled your dumb quota for the day.”

Swan’s ears flattened before her lips curled into a slight smile. “Okay.”

She then wrinkled her nose as she took a closer look at the feral bodies. “So this is what changelings are like? Roided up monsters?”

Flurry gave her a wry smile. “Never seen a changeling before?”

At Swan’s lack of a rebuttal, she continued. “They’re not all like this. Most are the size of a regular pony and wouldn’t hurt anyone. Just a little different.”

“Then what are these?”

“These wretches are what most ferals eventually end up like,” she said. “They feed and feed until it ends up destroying their minds. There’s nothing left of who they were now—just instinct. They’ve all been turned into weapons that kill on command.”

“By whom?”

“The galaxy is a dark place. There’s always somepony looking to exploit the weak,” she said, pointedly looking at her. “In a way, they should be pitied, or at least put out of their misery.”

Swan lowered her head, pawing lightly at the deck.

Flurry sighed, turning her attention to the slain pony before them.

It was an earth pony stallion with a light blue coat and teal mane hidden beneath a black security helmet. He looked to have been part of the Orion’s security detail—just some poor pony caught up in all the chaos. The stallion was splattered with blood, slumped against the wall. Attached to one of his forelegs was a pulse pistol, spent CAPS cells scattered around him. He had evidently given a good account of himself before being overwhelmed.

“Harmony awaits you, brave stallion,” Flurry whispered, bowing her head to the fallen guard. “Please forgive me, there are ponies that need this now more than you do.”

Gingerly, Flurry removed the pistol and its mount from his foreleg, checking the cell’s charge. It was still about half full—not fantastic, but better than nothing.

“Swan, take this,” Flurry said, levitating the pistol over to her.

Swan numbly looked at the weapon as it plopped in her hooves. The mare’s eyes were distant and unfocused as she stared at the dead guard.

“It’s funny, I’ve been taught to hate dirt ponies my whole life,” Swan murmured softly. “Why do I feel so hollow inside?”

Flurry placed a hoof on her shoulder. “Because you’ve seen them as they are, not how the Republic wants you to. They’re ponies, just like you. The war made everypony forget, that’s all.”

“Did you forget?”

“For a while, yes,” Flurry said softly, her ears flattening.

They both stood there quietly until Swan finally spoke.

“Was that how you became Last Shadow?”

Flurry let out a sigh, her wings fidgeting at the bad memories.

“I got so focused on trying to stop the stupid thing that I didn’t see I was only making things worse,” Flurry said, looking away. “I don’t hate the pegasi, Swan. Fighting against them was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But I had to try and stop it because Thunderstreak never wanted war.”

“Wait, you knew the crown prince of the Republic?” Swan asked with a frown.

“Give me a little credit, I was a princess, you know,” Flurry replied.

“What was he like?” Swan prodded, curiosity in her voice now.

“Hopelessly naive, but in a good way,” Flurry said softly. “He saw the potential in us all to be better. A rare thing these days.” She shuddered. “And then some bastard killed him.”

Swan’s ears flattened. “Were you two close?”

“You could say that.”

Flurry rubbed her eyes, feeling wetness on her fetlock. This was good, right? It meant her eyes were getting better.

“This gas must be getting to me,” she said. “Can you use that thing?”

She gestured to the pistol in Swan’s hooves.

“Yes, though I haven’t used one since the academy,” Swan replied, strapping the weapon to her foreleg.

Flurry cast one last look down at the fallen stallion.

“We’ll make sure he’s honoured once this is over,” she said softly. “But we need to keep moving.”

They hadn’t encountered any further signs of changeling or pony as they made their way deeper into the ship. Not knowing when or where an enemy would appear was playing havoc with Flurry’s nerves. She wasn’t exactly in the best condition either.

Their trek paused as they began to hear broken chatter over Flurry’s holo-brace.

“…fall back to… cut off…”

It sounded like one of Flint’s squads, but it was difficult to tell how the fight was going. The fight against the cruiser outside may have been won, but the outcome within the Orion itself was still in question.

“Can you get through to any of them?” Swan asked.

“The signal’s still too weak,” Flurry replied with an angry flick of her tail. “Anything could be happening and we’re stuck wandering around.”

“Could you teleport us?”

“Remember what I said about how we got lucky not to materialise inside a bulkhead? I’m not going to tempt fate again.”

“Yeah, let’s not do that,” Swan said, quickly abandoning her idea. “So even you have limits.”

“Don’t go telling everypony, but alicorns are just like anyone else—just with a few more tricks,” Flurry said, tapping her horn.

They neared an intersection with the word “MEDICAL” stencilled in large blue letters on the wall.

“Finally some luck,” Swan commented. “Hopefully somepony can fix you up.”

“I hope so,” Flurry said, her aching body agreeing with the idea of medical attention. “And we could use a bit more firepower on our side as well.”

Their hopes were dashed as they made their way closer and began to see signs of a struggle.

Trolleys and cabinets had been piled up into a makeshift barricade. They looked to have been swept aside when the changelings attacked.

Large windows were inlaid into the walls, looking into the medical bay. It was well-lit in contrast with the rest of the ship. Flurry guessed it had its own power supply separate from the main energy grid to keep it going in an emergency.

Inside, she could see alcoves for beds, but most of them were missing. There were a few plastic-wrapped packing crates piled up inside.

As they crept closer, their ears perked at a loud crash from inside the room. Glass shattered and Flurry could hear the guttural chittering of feral changelings.

They looked to each other and crouched low, trying to keep out of sight as they made their way towards the entrance.

Swan peered inside and let out a tiny gasp before shrinking back into cover.

“What is it?” Flurry asked.

“T-they’ve lined up bodies in the far corner,” Swan replied, her voice a hushed whisper, her wings trembling at her sides. “Lots of bodies.”

“How many changelings are in there?”

Swan remained silent, slumping against the wall.

“Swan,” Flurry urged. “How many changelings?”

Swan blinked and swallowed. “Three. Two are dragging bodies at the far end, while the other is rummaging through some storage bins.”

“Are any of them armed?”

“One has what looks to be some kind of rifle,” Swan replied.

Flurry nodded, pondering their options. Close combat was still off the table. She was still not great on her hooves, and her poor eyesight was going to hinder precise use of magic. She’d have to fall back on the classic ‘hit them with something large’ approach.

Quietly, Flurry checked the magical reserves gauge on her holo-brace. Thankfully the teleports hadn’t taken too much out of her, as she still had a decent amount left.

“Okay, I’ll go in first and draw their attention. You stay by my side and be my eyes. I’ll deal with the two on the far end while you take out the one with the rifle,” Flurry explained.

Swan nodded, her movements rigid.

“It’s okay, Swan,” she said softly. “I know this is a lot to deal with, but I need you now. I can’t see anything past about three canters. If anypony is still alive in there, I don’t want to risk hurting them.”

“Okay,” Swan said, taking a breath. “I’m with you.”

The pegasus primed her pistol, the gentle hum as it powered up seeming to give her some comfort.

“Go on three. One… Two… Three!”

Flurry moved quickly into the room, flaring her wings to make herself the bigger target. Swan moved beside her, sheltering under her wings.

“Eleven o’clock!” Swan cried, making Flurry snap her head in that direction.

The black, blurry blobs in that direction let out a hiss and buzzed their wings in involuntary surprise. Around them was scattered medical equipment that had been pulled out of packing crates: cabinets, trolleys and a gurney.

Flurry wrenched the gurney off the floor and into the air with her telekinesis. With a broad swipe, she knocked the two blobs across the room like ragdolls. Their bodies smashed against the windows before tumbling to the ground.

“Four o’clock, gun!” Swan yelled.

Her shield spell flared to life as the third opened fire, the energy blasts splashing against her shield.

There was a flash from Swan’s pistol beside her, the first shot missing, but the second slamming into the feral’s chest, knocking it down.

A groaning chitter emerged from behind the medical tables, which Flurry silenced with the repeated application of gurney to the head.

“Are we clear?” Flurry asked, keeping her shield up as she surveyed the room.

“Yes, I think so,” Swan replied with a relieved sigh.

“I’m going to check on the crew,” she said, giving the pegasus a pat on the shoulder before they separated.

The bodies of the crew had been collected and neatly lined up along the far end of the medbay. They were mostly wearing white orderly uniforms, with a few others garbed in grey work pony overalls.

Flurry knelt beside a pink unicorn mare, observing the gentle rise and fall of her chest. The mare’s eyes were half-lidded, a goofy smile on her muzzle.

“They’re alive?” Swan asked, trotting back with the changeling’s rifle slung on her shoulder.

“Looks like the gas got to them,” she said grimly. After tilting the mare’s head back, Flurry noticed a pair of puncture marks on her neck.

“What is that?”

“Those fangs aren’t just for show. They inject a psychotropic venom which enhances the effect of the nectar,” she explained. “Keeps them under.”

“Please tell me you didn’t drink or smoke that stuff as well,” Swan asked sarcastically.

“Of course not,” Flurry replied, looking away sheepishly.

“Are they going to be okay?”

“They should be. Ferals want to keep you alive,” she said, gently setting the mare down again.

“That’s reassuring,” Swan muttered. “Let’s grab any supplies and get—”

“Umm, excuse me,” came a muffled stallion’s voice from behind the line of bodies. “I assume you’re Orion security? I require some assistance.”

Flurry and Swan exchanged glances. Swan readied her newly acquired rifle, taking aim towards the voice.

It was coming from a cabinet underneath a workstation. The changelings had moved a lot of equipment in front of it to make room for their gathered prey. The cabinet was small, barely large enough for an adult pony to fit in.

“Not exactly. We’re part of a rescue mission from Harmony station,” Swan said. “I’m Lieutenant Swan Song of the Imperial Navy, and with me is citizen Flurry Heart.”

“Oh great, a colonial,” the voice huffed with a derisive tone. “I should have known by the accent. And the brigand ex-princess. Fantastic. My, they must have been desperate to call you in to help.”

“We can leave you in there, you know,” Flurry snorted.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t,” he replied, his voice a little more agreeable.

Flurry began levitating equipment out of the way of the cabinet. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Oh, my apologies. Being stuffed in this box is affecting my manners. My name is Dr. Doppel. I’m Harmony’s Chief Medical Officer,” he announced.

Flurry looked to Swan.

“We don’t have a Chief Medical Officer yet,” Swan stated, her eyes narrowing.

“Obviously,” he said with a sardonic snort. “I was held up by the wonders of Commonwealth bureaucracy.”

“How did you end up here?”

“Captain Nyx generously offered me passage aboard her ship,” he explained. “Then all this kerfuffle happened and I ended up in here. I can show you my credentials once you’ve got me out.”

Flurry levitated the last piece of equipment out of the way. “There, you can come out now.”

“Thank you, but I must ask that you please don’t overreact when you see me,” he said, causing Flurry and Swan to exchange glances.

“Sure, no problem,” Flurry said.

Gingerly, the cabinet doors opened, and an ordinary-looking changeling in a white lab coat flopped onto the floor. His stringy blue mane was trimmed, though it was a bit dishevelled from his time cooped up. His black chitin had been polished and carried a slight blue tinge.

He blinked, his slitted amber eyes darting warily to Swan’s rifle, which was aimed squarely at his head.

Swan, for her part, had a look of disgust etched on her brow. The pegasus’ eyes were fixed on the jagged horn protruding from his forehead.

“You’re a changeling!” Swan hissed.

“Very observant,” he deadpanned, unfazed by the gun pointing at him.

Flurry gently reached over to Swan and eased her gun down.

“It’s okay, Swan,” she said.

“How can we be sure? He might’ve been working for them!” Swan retorted angrily, her wings bristling at her sides.

“Because it would’ve been easy for him to pass himself off as one of the crew,” Flurry explained. “Besides, he wouldn’t have locked himself in a cabinet.”

“Exactly!” he said. “Those ruffians shoved me in.”

“On the other hoof,” Flurry began, her voice laced with suspicion. “Syndicate changelings are known for staying undisguised. Ferals won’t attack them then.”

“That’s absurd,” Doppel retorted. “We all can detect other changelings, disguised or not.”

“Ferals can’t,” Flurry countered. “You could be Syndicate.”

Doppel huffed for a moment before placing a hoof to his chest. “It’s a matter of pride that I never hide my form, with my patients or anypony else. And in case there is any doubt…”

He rolled up his sleeve and revealed a holo-brand from the Conformity. He tapped it gently, and the image of the good doctor appeared with a slew of personal information. “You should know that every changeling of the Conformity has one of these.”

“Could be fake,” Swan suggested.

“Hmm.” Flurry gave it a closer look after rubbing her itchy eyes. “That’s a legit Conformity brand. No way that’s getting faked,” she said.

“I trust that is enough for you?” Doppel asked while eyeing Swan, who simply grumbled.

“It certainly explains why they put you in there,” Flurry commented.

“I don’t think they knew what to do with a non-Syndicate changeling,” he said, rising to his hooves and brushing himself off. He looked over to the crumpled body of one of the ferals, still smouldering from Swan’s shot. “Giving themselves over to their base instincts.” He shook his head with a scowl. “Savages.”

He trotted past them and towards the line of unconscious crew, his expression softening. “Alas, I don’t have anything that can help these poor folk. At least they haven’t been fed upon yet.”

“Lucky them,” Swan muttered.

“Swan—” Flurry began, before breaking into a fit of coughing.

“That doesn’t sound too healthy. Are you injured or sick?” Doppel asked with a concerned frown as he walked over to her.

“I just had a little touch of hard vacuum, but I’ll be okay,” she replied through the coughs.

“I have too many questions I don’t think I’d like the answer to,” he said as he checked her pulse. “If I may, I’d like to accompany you. I can’t do anything here, and the rest of the crew may need my help.”

“We’re not taking him with us,” Swan declared with a firm stomp of her hoof.

“I’m afraid you don’t have a say in the matter, Lieutenant,” Doppel snorted, glaring daggers at her. “I go where I’m needed. So either shoot me or step aside—I have work to do.”

Flurry couldn’t help but smirk as he trotted past them with fiery determination in his eyes.

With the power out through most of the ship, they couldn’t rely on elevators to make their way up to the bridge. Thankfully, despite Dr. Doppel’s muttering, they managed to find some emergency stairs leading up and were soon on their way.

The stairwell spiralled upwards, just like the ones inside the old castles where Flurry grew up, only this one had a wider open space in the centre for pegasi to fly unhindered. Along the way were hatches leading to other decks and maintenance crawlspaces. It was dark, with only the dim red glow of the emergency lighting allowing them to see.

Swan had taken the lead, trying to keep as much distance from Dr. Doppel as she could, while he and Flurry stayed together.

Thankfully, Flurry found flying to be easier than she expected, which was a good thing since there were eight decks they needed to ascend. Dr. Doppel bobbed alongside her like a giant bumblebee, the buzzing of his wings echoing up the shaft.

“Can you keep that down?” Swan hissed from above. “Last thing we want is your bug friends finding us, or worse, security mistaking us for one of you.”

“And what would you have me do? Cut my wings off?” he retorted.

“Swan,” Flurry interjected before the pegasus could reply. “Can you check the hatch to the command deck?”

Swan looked like she was about to say more but simply nodded. “Sure.”

“I fear she doesn’t like me,” Doppel commented.

“She’s lost a lot of friends today to the Syndicate,” Flurry said quietly. “Try not to take it to heart.”

“Don’t worry, I’m used to it,” he said grimly. “But my hope is to prove the majority of my kind are not savages.”

Flurry had seen enough goings-on in the Alliance and Republic to understand what he meant.

They both landed at the level for the Command deck, finding Swan waiting there for them.

Flurry checked her holo-brace again for any friendly radio chatter but was still only getting garbled signals. It couldn’t be down to a lack of range now. Were the radios being jammed still?

“I’ll go first,” Flurry said. “If we get shot at, I can protect myself.”

Swan nodded.

Flurry readied herself and gently eased the hatch open.

A bright light burst forth, followed by a flurry of energy pulses that made her duck quickly back. They eventually ceased and she could hear distant panicked breathing coming from within.

“Whoa whoa, friendly!” she cried, though she wasn’t about to stick her head out just yet.

“Orion security. Throw any weapons out and step out one at a time,” a stallion shouted from behind the hatch.

She looked to Swan, giving her a nod. Swan looked reluctant to obey, clinging to her rifle for a moment before finally relenting. She tossed her rifle and pistol out the hatch with a sour look.

“We’re coming out,” Flurry said, readying her shield spell just in case. “We have Dr. Doppel with us. He’s a changeling, so hold your fire.”

She stepped out into the light, squinting in the brightness. Behind a makeshift barricade were five ponies aiming rifles at her. Only one was wearing body armour, while the others were wearing engineer jumpsuits or uniforms. They all looked frightened and weary from their ordeal, ears flattened and guns shaking in their grasp.

Doppel stepped out next, a few of the ponies tensing as he emerged. He merely let out a tired sigh, eventually sitting on his rump and holding his forelegs up.

Swan Song was last, her head held high, defiantly striding forward. “First Lieutenant Swan Song, Imperial Navy serial number BW4578670.”

The mare rattled it off like she was entering a prisoner of war camp.

“TEI confirms they’re not hostiles,” a stallion behind the barricade announced.

“I can see that,” the earth pony in body armour snorted. “They have an alicorn with them for Celestia’s sake.”

He trotted forward from the barricade and gave a salute. He was middle-aged, having a pale-grey coat with a steel-grey mane poking out from under his helmet. “Corporal Bounty. My apologies, but you can understand our precautions. I must admit, when Captain Nyx said you were coming I didn’t quite believe it.”

“Understandable, corporal,” Flurry replied with a smile. “What’s the situation?”

“Bugs are pushing us hard. We’ve got a lot of ponies missing. Chief Flintlock went through with his squad half an hour ago, but we haven’t heard much since,” Bounty said before his eyes went to Doppel. “No offence.”

“None taken,” Doppel replied with a sigh.

“And Captain Nyx?” Flurry asked, feeling her chest tighten as she waited for his answer.

“The captain has been out leading the fight since we were first boarded,” he said.

A gentle sigh of relief escaped her lips. “Can you take me to her?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, before looking to Doppel. “You’ll have to be detained until the situation has calmed down.”

Doppel bristled. “For pity’s sake, at least let me check your wounded.”

“I don’t think—”

“Have someone watch me if that’s what you want, but I won’t sit by while lives are at risk,” Doppel snapped, squaring up to the earth pony.

“Fine,” Bounty relented, gesturing for one of the other ponies to stay at Doppel’s side.

“And before you go, let me tend to your injuries,” Doppel added, turning to Flurry.

“Come on, Doc…” Flurry protested.

“No arguments,” Doppel interrupted. “Honestly, you soldier-types all think you’re invincible.” He looked to Bounty. “Officer Bounty, was it? Could you get me a first-aid kit, please?”

Flurry gave him a nod, which seemed to be enough for the earth pony. He trotted away, only to return a minute later with a first-aid kit on his back.

“I’d prefer to examine you properly, but this should help boost your recovery rate at the very least,” Doppel said, retrieving an auto injector and a vial of blue liquid. “No substitute for bed rest and common sense, but we make do with what we have.”

Flurry extended her foreleg, and Doppel gently positioned the injector. She winced as the needle pierced her skin, a gentle hiss coming from the injector as it activated. The pain faded quickly as the device emptied its contents into her system, a coolness spreading up her leg and into her body.

“Thanks,” Flurry said, giving her foreleg a rub. The constant pain that had been niggling her since they arrived began to fade, becoming a tolerable ache. Her eyes and lungs tingled slightly as the healing accelerator began to take effect.

“Lieutenant?”

“Don’t count on it, no way in hell I’m letting that thing touch me,” Swan huffed with a scowl before trotting away.

“She grows on you,” Flurry said with a shrug. “See ya around, Doc.”

Doppel simply rolled his eyes before they parted ways. Flurry gave the pegasus a stern look as she passed.

Bounty led them past the bridge of the Orion, through cramped corridors filled with ponies. Many of the side rooms had been co-opted to hold the displaced crew.

In the dim lighting of the corridors, they were like zombies, their expressions vacant and lost. The air tasted stale, but at least it was free of the ferals’ nectar gas.

“When they started boarding us, we lost contact with most sections of the ship. Then we started getting infiltrators,” Bounty explained, his voice trembling as he recounted it. “Lost a lot of ponies before we could respond.”

The corridors echoed with a dozen conversations, all of which died down as they passed. Flurry gave them reassuring nods as she walked by. These ponies needed all the encouragement they could get.

“Have you heard anything about the battle outside?” Swan asked.

“We’re still entirely cut off from the outside,” he replied. “The techs have been trying to get external communications back online since the power went out. Even within the ship, the bugs have been jamming everything other than short-range comms.”

“I see,” Swan said sadly, her ears flattening.

Flurry turned and placed a hoof on Swan’s shoulder. “They’ll be okay, Swan. If you like, you can head back to the bridge and wait for word there. Shouldn’t be too long.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I don’t want to be sitting around doing nothing. Maybe I can help in some way.”

Flurry could see in Swan’s eyes the desperate desire not to be left behind. For some reason, it seemed Swan was looking to her for approval.

“Alright,” she said with a smile. “Looks like you get to meet two alicorns in one day.”

Bounty led them away from the bridge and deeper into the ship. As they got closer to the fighting, the steady staccato of pulse rifle fire grew louder and louder. Flurry could discern the higher pitch of changeling weapons opposed by the deeper rumble of the defenders. Shouts, screams, and the animalistic screeches of the ferals filled the air.

They trotted past a grim line of wounded ponies, limping back from the battle. Dr. Doppel was going to have his work cut out for him before this was over.

Flurry could make out familiar voices amongst the chaos: Flint, Fire Hawk, and the rest of his squad. She was overjoyed to know they had made it here safely and that she would soon be joining the fight with them.

Swan was quiet, trotting close beside Flurry. The pegasus was doing her best to hide her fear, but Flurry could see her wings trembling at her sides. Even so, Flurry admired the kid’s spirit. Swan was no marine, but she was still stepping up to the fight, just like her brother had done before her. Only this time, they were on the same side and Flurry was going to do her damndest to make sure she made it back to her aerie.

As they rounded a corner, they were both confronted by a scene of absolute chaos. The area had been a broad concourse leading to different sections of the ship, but now, it was a battleground.

She spotted Flint’s ponies fighting over a makeshift barricade of equipment. Flint and Echo were crouched together, firing off bursts over the barricade periodically. Priest was lying prone, his rifle resting on a bipod as he fired through a gap. Meanwhile, Princess was crouched low, the barrels of her gatling cannon glowing red hot. At the centre was Fire Hawk, now ablaze in her Nirik form, white fire billowing from her hooves and mane as she fought off the ferals clambering over the barricade.

Spent CAPS cells littered the ground, and every wall was marred and blackened by energy weapon impacts. The thick scent of blood and ozone hung in the air along with the sickly sweet scent of feral nectar.

“Captain Nyx was here the last I heard,” Bounty said before turning to head back the way they came.

“You’re leaving?” Swan asked.

“Somepony needs to organise things on the bridge,” he replied. “Good luck to you both.”

With that, he galloped away, back towards the bridge.

“Stay close to me now,” Flurry said, looking to Swan, who was giving the withdrawing stallion a sour look. Swan gave her a nod, and they crouched low while scurrying over towards the barricade. After reaching it, they ducked in beside Flint and Echo.

“You’re late,” Flint said, not looking up from his rifle’s scope.

“Sorry, had to pick up a stranded pegasus along the way,” Flurry said with a smirk aimed in Swan’s direction.

“See! Told you she’d be here!” Fire Hawk whooped, knocking another changeling from the barricade. “You ponies all owe me thirty bits! Hey, pillow-stuffer, glad you could join us!”

“Wasn’t going to miss this, tinderbox,” Swan shot back.

“See, I knew I liked you,” Fire chuckled, her flames billowing with mirth.

Flurry turned to Flint. “What’s the situation?” she asked. “Where’s Nyx?”

“The captain’s off takin’ the fight to them. We managed to get a message from her about fifteen minutes ago,” Flint replied. “As for us, we’ve got them held here, but more keep coming.”

She’s close, Flurry thought, resisting the urge to jump over the barricade and go looking for her.

“Got another wave, chief!” Fire Hawk shouted before ducking back below the barricade.

Flurry peered over and saw a blurry mass of armoured changelings scurrying along the walls and ceiling towards them. Then, from behind the wave came a fresh fusillade of pulse fire that ricocheted off the barricade, making everypony duck down.

“Don’t they know their cruiser has been taken out?” Swan yelled over the noise.

“I don’t think they care,” Flurry replied, tensing her body and charging her horn for the fighting to come.

Flurry peered over the barricade to get a better look at the situation. Suddenly, things went dark at the far end of the concourse. It wasn’t so much like the lights went out but that they were swallowed up by an inky veil of darkness.

Much of the weapons fire coming towards the ponies stopped. Then, sounds of gunfire erupted from behind the changeling position. The ferals leading the charge had stopped in their tracks, looking back to where they had come from. They began chittering with one another before retreating.

“Weapons hold!” ordered Flintlock, the thestral taking a sudden keen interest in the evolving situation.

From within the darkness, bright indigo flashes were accompanied by cracks of thunder. Flurry watched as smoke and flying debris were revealed briefly by the flashes and then just as quickly returned to an inky black. Otherworldly screams of the feral changeling horde echoed up the concourse, causing a shiver to run down her spine.

Flurry’s heart began to race. This was it. She was reminded of her childhood where she sat at a campfire in the dark of night, listening to legends of the infamous Nightmare Moon. Over seventeen centuries later, it was like it happened yesterday.

She had sat on a thick log, huddled together with her friends as the tale unfolded. Then, a pause. A feeling of sheer dread overcame them as the ambient chatter of the nighttime forest suddenly fell silent. It was like the darkness itself had become alive and at any moment, it would consume them all. Shadows fled, leaving nothing behind but stark terror. Then…

The beast was upon them! Terror gripped their young hearts for the briefest of moments as the dreaded mare of legend pounced, her horn crackling with deadly magic.

The memory faded as Flurry snapped back to the present moment.

The changelings down the concourse were being slain in droves as the most feared pony in thirty centuries tore into them. Flash after flash along with the sound of rending metal and shattering chitin filled the scene.

It was then that Flurry saw her.

The darkness relented and Nyx strode out from the haze behind the changeling position, her horn crackling with arcane energy. She was clad head to hoof in armour of polished silver, the deep blue kite shield of her cutie mark emblazoned on her chest. The style was ancient, from an older, simpler time, but beneath the old exterior were modern ceramics and impact-resistant fibres.

Floating at her side, in the grip of her telekinesis, was her sword, the blade glinting in the dim light.

Nyx stomped a hoof, baring her fangs, her slitted eyes narrow with fury. The black alicorn flared her wings in a challenge at the horde before her.

The ferals lunged at the alicorn, abandoning any concern for the pitched battle they had only moments before been putting their entire focus on.

Five came at her and were felled almost instantly, Nyx’s sword slicing through them in a blur of motion.

Nyx then walked forward in a slow and purposeful manner, directly into the mob.

Enough waiting! Flurry wasn’t about to let Nyx face them down alone.

She leapt over the barricade with one downward thrust from her wings. Racing forward, she quickly caught up with the retreating ferals, soon overtaking the stragglers. She then brought her forehooves down onto an unfortunate feral’s back, knocking it to the ground with a crunch of shattered chitin.

Flurry fought her way in, battling hoof to hoof against the now pincered feral horde. As weakened as she was, she was still more than a match for even these specialized soldiers.

She vaguely heard shots behind her and caught flashes of light, but she paid them no mind. Never once did she take her eyes from her cousin, fighting in the midst of the mob.

Within moments, it was over, and Flurry found herself face to face with the black alicorn.

Nyx regarded her coolly, her breath coming in slow, steady pants. She gave her sword a flick, swiping away the coating of blood before burning the stain off with cleansing fire and sliding it back into its sheath.

“You made it,” Nyx said with a sardonic lift of her eyebrow. “It’s about time you got here.”

The dreaded mare of legend would pounce, her horn crackling with deadly magic. Then, Nyx would laugh, tossing candy. Rather than a gruesome death, her cousin showered everypony with affection.

Flurry took a few tentative steps forward before rushing to her and hugging her tightly. Nyx hesitated for a moment before returning the embrace. It didn’t matter what came at them now; nothing was going to rob this moment from her.

Author's Notes:

https://tenor.com/view/darth-vader-rogue-one-lightsaber-dark-glow-gif-7901005

Nyx arrives

Chapter 14 - Not the Reunion I was Hoping For

Nyx was safe!

At last, the anxiety that had gripped Flurry Heart for the past twelve hours had found its release. She clung to her cousin tightly, finding comfort in the embrace even with all the pokey bits of Nyx’s armor trying their hardest to ruin it. A few relieved tears trickled down her cheeks, the emotions hitting harder than she expected.

As Flurry held her, she could tell that not all was well. Nyx’s breathing was laboured and uneven. Her mane was slick with sweat, and her wings trembled slightly at her sides. It felt like hours of tension and exhaustion were radiating off her.

“I just need a moment,” Nyx whispered. “Please.”

Flurry said nothing and simply pulled her closer, letting Nyx’s chin rest on her shoulder.

As captain, Nyx would have done all she could to present a stalwart and indomitable image, especially to her new crew. She would lead them by example, showing great courage and valor. Flurry knew her better. While all these were in fact her traits, no one, not even an alicorn, was unbreakable.

In the brief moment of silence, time seemed to slow as Flurry lingered, soaking it in. Unspoken words passed between them, a reaffirmation of old bonds that had long since faded. Eventually, Nyx pulled back, her composure restored.

Nyx’s cool gaze fell upon her, dousing the warm, nostalgic moment. The gulf between them began to reassert itself, six years of regrets manifesting once more like an impossible weight around her neck.

Flurry decided to try and right things. She took a deep breath, then spoke.

“Nyx, I… I…”

Damn it, why is this so hard?

She opened and closed her mouth several times, the words refusing to come out. Flurry looked up to see Nyx scrutinizing her carefully, her stern gaze instantly taking Flurry back to the days when Nyx had overseen her lessons.

“What happened to you?” Nyx asked with hints of worry as she tilted her head. “You sound terrible.”

“Oh, I had to pop outside for a minute or two without a helmet,” came Flurry’s reply with a glimmer of hope that she could keep the conversation light-hearted.

Nyx’s posture appeared to relax slightly as a tiny relieved sigh escaped her muzzle. Still, her ears were a bit down, giving her composure a glimmer of familial concern.

“And your wings,” Nyx said softly, reaching to Flurry's side with a foreleg and gently stroking her jet-black feathers. “What have you done to yourself?”

“Hey, you have no idea the trouble I’ve had to go through just to pull this off,” Flurry reacted with a nervous chuckle.

Nyx gave her that sad and all-too-familiar disapproving look before shaking her head with an exasperated sigh.

“Hold on,” Flurry quickly added, reaching out with a hoof. “You don’t think I—”

“It doesn't matter,” Nyx said flatly. “We have pressing matters to deal with.” She began walking toward the barricade where Flint and his squad were quietly talking.

Flurry felt a desperate anger rise in her chest as she watched Nyx leave. “But I—”

“We’ll talk later, Flurry,” Nyx snapped, her wings bristling. Flurry winced at the irritation in her voice. “My crew needs us now. Both of us.”

A deep pit formed in Flurry’s stomach. Her ears flattened and she hung her head. There would be no winning this, especially when she knew Nyx was right. Losing her temper would only lead to history repeating itself.

“Okay,” she said softly as she fell in line behind the ship’s captain.

Swan sat beside Flurry, still in a daze over what she had just witnessed. Here, a prolonged battle was fought between Syndicate forces and Harmony’s finest soldiers, backed up by Orion security. Then, just two alicorns came and snuffed it out in mere moments. The few changelings that survived were sent scampering away in fear.

Around them, a bustle of newly arrived security ponies and volunteers were busy securing the concourse. Finally, Swan was allowed a moment of clarity and rest.

Her gaze drifted to the black alicorn, now huddled beside Flintlock and Bounty as they discussed the situation. She wasn’t sure what to make of this one. Those slitted eyes gave her the creeps, looking more like they belonged on a cat or dragon than a pony. And the fangs were just unnerving. Even from a distance, Swan noticed them every time the alicorn spoke.

It also didn’t help that she had emerged out of the darkness clad head to hoof in weird-looking armor that had no business existing outside myth and legend. She looked more like a storybook villain than the captain of an enormous modern warship.

“Your cousin is more than a little unsettling,” Swan remarked, her eyes still locked onto the black mare.

When Flurry didn’t answer, Swan turned to notice that she seemed lost in troubled thought.

It was a bit off-putting that suddenly now, after successfully rescuing this ship and her captain, Flurry carried the subdued appearance of having lost the fight. After all, wasn’t this their entire point in coming? Wasn’t this what so many of Swan’s aerie had died for?

Ever since they had first met, Flurry seemed to have this unshakable optimism about her goal. Nothing, not even her branding as a blackwing, seemed to get in the way of it. Yet now, she was quiet, appearing more like a sullen child awaiting punishment. There was no sign of the haughty and notorious thief or the war criminal of legend. She seemed adrift, even periodically glancing at the vacant spot on her shoulder where her strange plushie once sat.

“Those eyes and teeth,” Swan continued with a shudder. “You’re not hiding anything weird, are you?”

“Sorry to disappoint, but no, Nyx is a… special case.”

“She looks like she belongs in a theatre troupe with that armour,” Swan said.

“You never heard of Nightmare Moon, I take it?” Flurry asked with a quiet chuckle.

“Nightmare what?”

“Kids these days don’t know anything,” Flurry muttered, shaking her head. “She’s the boogey-mare that tried to take over Equus once. Got a holiday named after her.”

Swan frowned, the reference not ringing any bells. “What’s that got to do with Nyx?”

“She is Nightmare Moon, or at least she was until… Never mind, it’s complicated.” Flurry shrugged.

Swan wasn’t sure if the mare was joking or not. Her expression was unreadable, having returned to staring at her cousin.

“You’d think she would be happier to see you,” Swan remarked. “You did come all this way.”

“We had a bit of a falling out after the war,” Flurry said quietly. “She didn’t appreciate my recent career choices.”

“I see,” Swan said, though she suspected there was far more to this than Flurry was admitting.

“Flurry Heart, the family disappointment,” the mare remarked bitterly to herself. “Not that I helped matters… so stupid.”

“I’m sure once we get back, you’ll be able to talk it out,” Swan tried.

“Oh, like you and me?”

Flurry’s question took her aback. She was surprised to consider that her hatred toward the mare hadn’t crossed her mind since they began their journey through the ship. Though she had to admit, she wasn’t fully at peace with the alicorn yet.

“I…” Swan stammered. “Sure, I guess.”

“Hey, what’s with you two?” came a voice from behind Swan. She turned to see Fire Hawk walking up to join them. “After all the ass we just kicked, you should be flying high! I know I am.”

The kirin’s helmet had folded onto her back, revealing her voluminous mane as it spilled out over her shoulders. A look of contentment shone on her face as she slurped a can of Zoom through a straw.

“Where did you get that?” Swan asked with a hint of envy. It wasn't like the Orion was overflowing with vending machines.

“Oh, you’d like some? Here, have a whiff.” Fire Hawk levitated the drink closer to Swan’s nostrils.

“Unghhh, you drink that?” she balked. The pungent concoction was like a hundred odours having a brawl for her attention. “Smells like it could strip the paint right off the walls.”

The kirin paused in what looked like a moment of reflective thought. “Hmm, let’s try it!”

“Let’s not! You might burn a hole in something.”

“I burn holes in a lotta things, sweetie.”

“There’s no accounting for taste, I guess.”

The mare shrugged before sitting down with Swan and Flurry. “Keeps me topped up. Going nirik is a lotta work.”

Flurry offered a forehoof to Fire, which was bumped in turn. “Haven’t seen a kirin fight in a really long time,” she said. “You did pretty good.”

“Yeah right,” Fire deflected. “You and Nyx stole the show. But I gotta say, I’m really looking forward to seeing more of that!”

“I’ll try not to let you down,” Flurry replied with a smile, the melancholy tone from a moment ago now brushed aside. “But I’ll need you to heat up the popcorn.”

“It’s a date!” Fire chuckled, draining the last dregs from her bottle. “You’re in for a treat, pillow-stuffer,” she continued, turning her attention to Swan. “Captain Nyx is a living legend at the police academy. Got a statue and everything.”

“Nyx always was the popular one,” Flurry joked with a lighthearted chuckle. “How does it feel to meet that legend in the flesh?”

“Are you kidding? Did you see how many ferals she wasted?!” Fire Hawk whooped, practically vibrating with excitement. “And that wicked armour? Totally sold.”

As Flurry and Fire Hawk exchanged enthusiastic stories, Swan began to see that there was a lot more to the alicorn than all the carefree bluster suggested. How many regrets and sorrows were hidden behind that cocksure smile? The mystery that was Flurry Heart tugged further at Swan’s curiosity.

“Everypony listen up!” came the sharp voice of Flintlock, breaking Swan out of her thoughts. “We have a plan to take back the ship.”

Swan joined the semi-circle of ponies that had gathered around Flint and Nyx. Only Priest held his position, keeping watch for intruders.

“I’ve discussed the situation with Captain Nyx and Corporal Bounty,” Flint continued before giving a nod to Nyx and stepping aside.

“Thank you, chief,” Nyx replied as she tapped a few commands into her holo-brace.

An outline of the Orion was projected before the crowd. It highlighted a large area towards the stern of the ship labeled ‘Engineering’. A long and slender green zone indicated the concourse, several decks higher and a few hundred canters forward. This was the team’s current position.

“Our objective is to take Engineering,” Nyx began. “Syndicate changelings seized it during the first stages of their attack, and captured most of the engineering crew.” A hard edge crept into the alicorn’s voice as she continued. “Having lost the concourse, they will be getting desperate as they retreat and regroup. We don’t know what has become of the crew in Engineering, but the sooner we strike, the more lives will be saved, and the quicker we take back the ship.”

Before them, a thin blue line snaked through the projection of the Orion, joining the two locations together.

“Flurry Heart and I will take point ahead of Alpha squad, moving down through the cargo deck. It gives us the quickest route to Engineering,” Nyx said, tracing the route with a wingtip.

“As long as I don’t gotta miss the party, I’m happy,” Fire Hawk added with an eager grin as she glanced around to everyone gathered. Swan briefly wondered if something like solitary confinement would be fatal to the mare.

“Don’t worry, Fire,” Flint replied. “You’ll get to do your thing.”

“Awesome,” Fire Hawk murmured, a tiny giggle escaping her muzzle.

“Echo, you’ll provide tech support if we need it,” Flint continued. “The rest of us will be fire support.”

“You got it, boss,” Echo acknowledged.

“Everypony remember,” Nyx intoned, the seriousness in her voice quelling the rising chatter. “Five hundred of my crew are still unaccounted for. Recovering them is our top priority.”

At the mention of this, images from within the drone bay of the Syndicate cruiser flashed through Swan’s mind. A cold shiver ran down her spine, causing her wings to shudder. In her mind’s eye, she could still see those poor ponies mutilated, their brains being put into those—

A gentle wing over her shoulder snapped Swan back to reality. She looked to her side to see Flurry offering a gentle smile before focusing back on the briefing. Flint was speaking again.

“…the remainder of fire team Charlie is en route to the concourse to support Orion security in our absence,” he explained. “Now everypony check your gear. We move as soon as possible.”

Swan blinked at the realization she wasn’t mentioned at all when the plan had been explained. Flint’s team had already begun donning their helmets and checking their weapons, while the security ponies moved to a defensive position, protecting the concourse.

“Wait, what about me?” Swan asked.

“You stay here,” Nyx answered her. “We’ve got this covered.”

“I can help,” Swan objected, hefting her changeling pulse rifle where Nyx could see it.

The black alicorn glanced up and down Swan’s flight suit. “I appreciate the offer, and I’m grateful for what you and yours have done, but no. A pilot is not a soldier. I won’t have this operation jeopardized by a young pegasus with no infantry experience.”

The alicorn’s words cut deep, that alien gaze raising all of Swan’s inadequacies with a single glance. Any indignation Swan might have felt was snuffed out in an instant, her protests dying on her lips.

“Let the kid come,” Flurry said firmly.

Swan looked to her with surprise. Flurry ought to be eager to ditch her now that she was reunited with her cousin.

“She’s a liability,” Nyx replied coldly. “What happens if we get swarmed? You’d be too focused on her rather than the fight.”

“Hey, if anypony can handle a swarm it’s this one,” Flurry retorted, returning Nyx’s glare. “She helped me get here in one piece. A lot of her pilots were lost out there saving this ship. She deserves some payback.”

“Revenge…” Nyx sighed. “Not this time. Not when my crew’s lives are on the line.”

Swan felt her heart clench. She had to say something, had to keep moving, otherwise everything that had happened in the last hour would come crashing down on her like an avalanche.

“I can do this!” she insisted, staring directly into those predatory eyes. Her face became stone cold. “I need to do this,” she added. “I won’t let you down, and I’m not afraid to die.”

Nyx kept her gaze in silence for a long moment while Swan held her ground. “No, I can see you’re not. Don’t get in the way and try not to shoot anyone.”

“Yes ma’am!” Swan exclaimed, giving her a salute.

“And for goodness sake, somepony get this mare something to wear.”

Swan’s spirits soared. She wasn’t quite sure what it was about having the alicorn’s approval. Perhaps it was everything that had been building up to this moment. All the expectations and the critical nature of their mission made her feel a part of something far more profound than her miserable daily life. And even though she’d have to go back and face an unhappy Merry Weather—even though she still may stare death in the face before this mission was over—for this moment, she was happy.

A glance at Flurry showed the mare giving Swan a satisfied smile. The list of things she owed Flurry was growing almost by the minute. Just why was this alicorn going so far out of the way for her?

Swan’s musing was broken as the hulking form of Princess stomped up to her. The mustang loomed over her, carrying a gatling gun that made her feel tiny and insignificant by comparison.

“Alright, newbie, listen up. Chief says I need to foalsit you till you’re up to speed. You do exactly what I say, when I say. Any of my team gets hurt and it’s your fault… the bugs will be the least of your problems.”

Swan swallowed dryly, nodding at the horse standing over her. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you down.”

“Good,” Princess said. “Now check your weapon and don’t point it at anything unless you want to kill it.”

The sound of hoofsteps against metal echoed up and down the wide spiral stairwell as Flurry followed closely behind Nyx. Flint and the rest of his squad were broken up into three pairs, strung out not far behind them.

The emergency lights were like small islands in the growing dark. They cast a bloody red hue on the ponies during their descent, throwing distorted shadows that danced across the walls. It was times like this Flurry wished she could see in the dark as well as Nyx. As she followed behind, the black alicorn deftly navigated the darkness like a cat on the hunt.

From the gloomy pit, far below, came the steady reverberation of gunfire. It grew louder as they made their way down the metal stairwell, giving the sense that it wouldn’t be long before they found what they were looking for.

“I’m picking up friendly radio chatter,” Echo announced. “Sounds like Delta team. They’re under fire.”

Flurry’s gaze flitted to Nyx, who had paused at the landing of one of the decks, turning slightly. The conflict of whether to assist or press on towards Engineering flashed in her eyes.

“What do you think, Nyx?” Flurry asked.

Flint tapped his holo-brace, opening his comms for all to hear. “Delta, this is Alpha Lead, close to your position. Do you need assistance?” he asked.

“Alpha, I copy. Syndicate attack is petering out,” a stallion’s voice crackled over the radio. “Just finishing off the last of them.”

“Roger that, Delta—good to hear,” Flint replied. “Once you’re done there, proceed to the concourse on the command deck. We’re moving towards Engineering now.”

“Copy that. Good hunting!”

Flurry let out a sigh of relief that the Syndicate seemed to be running out of soldiers. She was suddenly thankful that she had blown their boarding tubes during the firefight outside, cutting off reinforcements. Soon, she and her squad would take Engineering and this would all be over.

She gave Nyx a smile, which her cousin returned, albeit weakly.

“Let’s keep moving,” Nyx said as she proceeded further down the stairwell. “They’re likely retreating to Engineering as a final stronghold.”

“If they’re running, they must have gotten the news by now,” Flurry said, moving to follow.

“News?”

“That two alicorns are coming to kick their ass,” Flurry grinned.

Nyx let out a dark chuckle. “You haven’t lost your sense of humour over the years, I see.”

“Not on your life.”

“We just have to be extra careful. They’ll be desperate now,” Nyx added as they arrived at the hatchway labeled ‘Cargo and Storage’.

Flurry waited while Nyx scanned the area ahead with the sensors built into her armor. She let out a sigh, glancing at her crappy holo-brace with contempt.

“I miss having all the fancy toys,” Flurry muttered with a hint of envy.

“I’m reading nothing on the other side,” Nyx stated before giving Flurry a nod. “Get the hatch and be ready with a shield… just in case.”

Nyx’s words sparked a hint of nostalgia in Flurry as she was reminded of the times they used to work together—when they trusted one another. The thought soothed her lingering agitation.

With a quick telekinetic pull, Flurry wrenched the hatch open, revealing an inky blackness within. The emergency lights had failed, and the whole area was cloaked in utter darkness.

The alicorns led the way through as small motes of magical energy, some indigo and some golden, hovered in front of their horns. One by one, helmet lamps lit up as Flint and his team filed in behind them. The shadows of forklifts and cargo trolleys flitted across the corridor like aberrant beasts of a fevered imagination. Along the floor, a thin haze lingered, and the air tasted of changeling nectar.

“Reminds me of Silverspring,” Flurry remarked. “Dark caves full of rabid ferals waiting to suck every last bit of emotion from us…”

“You can stop that any time you want, you know,” Nyx interrupted.

Flurry chuckled. “You stank of rotten eggs for weeks.”

Nyx let out a grumble, her tail flicking dangerously as they continued walking into the gloom.

The corridors on this deck were wider, with curved ceilings and elegant arches that gave enough space for a pegasus to pass overhead if they wished. Flurry recognized the distinctly Commonwealth architecture, though such designs were rare out in the colonies.

As Flint and his team spread out, Flurry caught sight of Swan Song walking alongside Princess at the rear of the squad. She seemed to be fitting in with the others, though it was still clear she was out of her comfort zone amongst infantry soldiers.

Flurry lingered as the squad passed on by, allowing Swan to catch up. “You doing alright, kid?”

“Sure. I mean, mostly,” she replied. “You’d think being comfortable in the blackness of space would translate to being comfortable in the blackness of a cramped metal labyrinth. It doesn’t. I feel like every shadow has a monster just waiting to pounce on me.”

“You’re the one who wanted so badly to come along,” Princess reminded her.

Flurry saw the irritated look on Swan’s face, though the mare bit back any response.

“You’ll be fine,” Flurry assured with a smile before trotting away to catch up with Nyx at the front.

“No sign of the enemy yet,” Nyx mentioned as Flurry slowed to walk beside her. “I half expected we’d run into a scout or guard by now.”

“How close are we?” Flurry asked.

“Not far. Engineering is off a parallel corridor, but we can get there quicker if we cut through storage up ahead.”

“I gotta say, Nyx, it’s a really big ship. How’d you land this gig, anyway?” When Nyx didn’t answer, Flurry prodded a bit. “I mean, the last thing I expected this morning was to find you out here at all, much less in need of rescue, captaining a beast like this.”

Nyx let out a heavy sigh, a sure sign Flurry had struck a nerve. “Flurry, be straight with me,” she began in a subdued voice. “If you had any inkling or heard any rumours that this was going to happen, you’d have found a way to warn us, right?”

It wasn’t an accusation, but the implication was loud and clear.

“Nyx, I didn’t even know this ship existed until a few hours ago, and even if you weren’t involved, there’s no way I’d let the Syndicate have their way with it,” Flurry replied, her tail flicking in irritation. “Believe it or not, the Syndicate ain’t exactly popular around here.”

Nyx eyed her carefully, her stern gaze softening a bit.

“I’m sorry, but I had to ask,” Nyx replied with a relieved tone. “It’s just that our route was meant to be secret. Setting up an ambush with a fake distress call, right in our path, means someone knew we were coming.”

Flurry pondered this for a moment. “To be honest, this is far too big a fish even for the Syndicate. You do have a point. The fact they nearly succeeded is pretty suspicious. Still, there’s a lot of ears listening in Dragon’s Head, and the Syndicate has some of the sharpest.”

“If I find out who is behind this, they’re going to pay,” Nyx snarled. “They knew right when we’d be the most vulnerable. This crew… they aren’t soldiers or even sailors. Most were just technicians assigned to get the ship fitted once we docked at Harmony.”

“Then let’s get to it,” Flurry urged. “Lead the way, captain. I’m feeling pumped.”

As they continued their way down the dark corridor, Flurry realized she felt more than pumped. She felt sharp and fresh like she’d just woken up after spending a night back on Equus. Last time she recharged this fast was after downing five cans of Zoom in the aftermath of a drunken TK-wrestling contest against more than a dozen unicorns.

Painted on the deck was a yellow line which split off to the right and traveled beneath a doorway marked ‘Storage 1B’.

Nyx paused at the door, checking her sensors once more before powering the locking mechanism with energy from her horn. The door then gave way with a slight hiss, revealing a room full of cargo crates resting on pallets.

At this point, Flurry was feeling good enough to know that something strange was going on. She stopped to check her holo-brace, which showed her thaumatic energy at more than twice the amount stored up a half-hour ago. And it was rising.

“Nyx, are you feeling like we just walked into a room full of narconium?” she asked.

“So this is where they put it,” Nyx replied.

“Anypony else feeling that?” Fire Hawk asked as the squad filed into the room.

“Feeling what?” Flintlock asked.

“A little funky.” Fire pawed at the ground, her ears swivelling.

“We don’t have time for a bathroom break, Fire,” Princess grunted.

“Just go in your armour,” Echo suggested, giving her a playful nudge.

“Nice try. Not falling for that again,” Fire grumbled.

“Alright, cut the chatter,” Flint barked.

Nyx approached one of the storage crates and pried the top panel off, revealing it was full of reddish-tinted metal bars. Narconium.

Flurry levitated one out, causing it to hover in front of her face. “You know what this is worth?” she intoned, looking Nyx in the eye.

“Pretty,” Echo commented. “Are we meant to be feeling something?”

“You wouldn’t,” Flint said. “I’ve seen this on most starships, but not in this amount. How much you got here?”

“A better question is why,” Flurry added. “You planning on being off-world for an extra-long time or something, Nyx?”

“There’s no time for chit chat,” Nyx asserted as she pulled several of the metal bars out of the crate, giving one to each member of the squad. “Tuck this away somewhere,” she instructed. “Narconium boosts the local Lifestream as well as a pony’s natural recharge rate. Important when you’re this deep in space. It won’t make a huge difference for you guys, but that’s because you’re not seventeen centuries old.”

“Right on!” Flurry cheered as she stuffed a bar into one of her pockets.

“Just be sure and give it back when we’re done, okay Flurry?”

“Sure,” she grumbled. “Let’s go.”

“How much further?” Flint asked.

“Fifty-two canters past the cargo lift,” Echo replied.

Soon, the squad came across a large elevator platform set into the floor, connecting the storage room with the hangar deck below.

Beyond the lift, a blast door three canters wide was partially open with light streaming out from within.

“That’s the core chamber up ahead,” Nyx stated. “I’m reading sketchy contacts beyond the doorway.”

The alicorns crept forward, approaching the blast door from either side and taking up their positions while Flint held his team back. The gap in the door was just wide enough for one pony to walk through. Flurry stood on her hind legs with her back against the wall as she cautiously leaned over to peer inside.

Flurry could see a lot of oversized equipment, backed by a row of enormous Nexus cores, which took up the rest of her sight. Without risking being spotted, she couldn’t see much else, though the frustrated chitters of several changelings were unmistakable.

Flurry locked her gaze with Nyx. “Ready? On three. One… T—”

“No!” Nyx insisted with a firm whisper. “We have to wait.”

“What?”

“My crew is in there somewhere,” Nyx explained. “I don’t want them in the crossfire.”

“Got it. Crew dead bad. Now, what’s your Plan B?” Flurry asked.

“Chief, does your team have any sprites?” Nyx asked over her radio.

“Echo does,” Flint replied.

“Good, send her up here.”

Flurry kept her gaze locked on the limited view of Engineering while they waited for Echo to join them.

“Chief said you need some eyes,” Echo whispered from directly behind Flurry, nearly making her jump out of her skin.

“Inside,” Nyx replied, gesturing towards the large room beyond the door. “We need to find out where the crew are being held.”

“Gotcha,” Echo nodded. From a compartment set into the back of her armour, a small drone, no bigger than a bumblebee, hovered out. It paused a moment as if to acknowledge its operator before darting away through the door. It wasn’t long before she described the scene.

“On the far left, we’ve got the main entrance to Engineering. Looks like it’s been barricaded,” Echo stated. “There’s also a large turret emplacement off to the side. I’m not familiar with the model, but it looks similar to the Commonwealth GX-86. It has line of sight on both doors.”

“Shit,” Flurry muttered. “Enemy headcount?”

“You’re not gonna like this,” Echo replied before counting under her breath. “A hundred fifty-six armoured ferals. Seven controller changelings and four technicians.”

“Any sign of my crew?” Nyx asked, anxiety slipping into her voice.

“Nothing yet… Wait, I’ve got them,” Echo said. “Far end of the chamber, off to the right. Ninety-eight piled up along the wall. Thermals indicate they’re alive.”

Flurry looked to Nyx, watching the gears turn inside her head.

“We can’t risk a frontal attack,” Nyx stated. “The rest of the team wouldn’t make it ten canters past the door, plus the crew need to be isolated.”

“I can cover the crew, but I can’t teleport in blind,” Flurry said.

“There’s a maintenance stairwell that leads up through containment to the upper gantry,” Echo offered, pointing to the left. “Twenty-five canters that way.”

Flurry gave the mare a quizzical look. “Okay, you didn’t even look that time,” she muttered.

Echo calmly returned her glance as if wondering what Flurry’s point was.

“We take the stairs then,” Nyx agreed. “Let’s just hope they don’t have it guarded.” She then gestured for Flint to move his team in.

“Bad luck for them if they do,” Flurry chuckled darkly.

“I don’t see anyone up there,” Echo said.

“You’re just determined to ruin my fun, aren’t you?” Flurry groused, fluffing her wings.

Chapter 15 - Exactly the Reunion I was Hoping For

Swan pressed up against the cold bulkhead of the stairwell, trembling slightly from her frayed nerves. The rifle strapped to her foreleg felt unnaturally heavy, even though she knew it was mostly in her head. Beside her, the rest of the squad waited, holding their positions. All eyes were on the narrow maintenance access doorway leading onto the upper gangway of Engineering.

“How am I gonna fit through that?” Princess whined in a whisper before Flint shushed her.

Compared to the experienced soldiers around her, Swan felt out of place. What was she even doing here? A cocksure pegasus pilot, leader of her aerie, she had boldly charged into desperate odds and come out alive somehow. Now, she felt like a fresh recruit all over again. The thought crossed her mind that maybe she should have stayed back at the concourse like she was told.

“Things are gonna get weird, so be ready and don’t freak out,” Nyx whispered.

The doorway leading out of the stairwell opened silently, revealing the vast chamber beyond. Some distance from the door, three changeling guards stood on a platform along the upper wall, watching the scene below.

Just then, a black void flowed out from Nyx like water, plunging the length of the gangway into total darkness.

At that moment, Nyx’s darksight spell kicked in just like she had described. Swan practically tripped over her own hooves at how disorienting it was at first, her wings opening instinctively to keep from falling.

Everything was pitch black… but not. Nothing had any texture, not even her own hoof in front of her face. What she could see, and vividly, were the edges of things. The other ponies appeared like ghostly outlines of themselves, their contours glowing and wafting around like they were underwater.

Before the three changelings could react to their lack of sight, Nyx withdrew a set of thin knives from her armour and telekinetically sent them flying toward their prey. The blades deftly maneuvered through the air, slicing throats with precision before swiftly returning to their resting place.

Swan swallowed dryly, trying to suppress feelings of intimidation at what she had just witnessed. Even in the total darkness, the detail in her vision was incredible. She watched the guards fall where they stood, blood dripping onto the solid metal catwalk.

“Follow me and stay quiet,” Nyx whispered. One by one, the squad filed through the access door, beginning with Flurry and ending with Princess, who struggled to squeeze through. Soon, they had all settled into their positions.

Swan crouched low with the rest of Flint’s team as they waited atop the gangway which ran the full length of Engineering’s upper deck. All eyes were on the situation below, watching it like a hawk—particularly the pair of alicorns who accompanied them.

Below them was a vast chamber, easily over a hundred canters long. Across from her position, on the deck level, was the blast door they had encountered earlier. Swan could see figures moving around—feral changelings, big ones in heavy armour, and far too many to count.

Dominating the center of the room were eight huge cylindrical machines topped with copper domes, laid out in two rows of four. Each was inscribed with indecipherable arcane runes and diagrams. They were the ship’s Nexus cores—the heart of the vessel’s power.

Only these were clearly destroyed. Their tops were cracked and blackened, cables spilling out like mops of hair. Two had split down the side and violently thrown bits of arcane technology out into the room, leaving scorch marks along the walls.

Her eyes couldn’t help but focus on the large turret which the changelings had set up. It was clearly a serious anti-infantry weapon for defending hardened positions. Whatever the Syndicate was doing in Engineering, they did not want to be disturbed.

“The crew has been immobilized and placed along the far left wall,” Nyx whispered.

“We ran across the same thing on our way up through Medical,” Flurry added, making brief eye contact with Swan. “Maybe twenty they gathered from around the ship and piled up. Nothing like this, though.”

Nyx’s horn crackled with fury, her eyes narrowing as she looked down below.

Swan felt queasy at the thought of where these poor souls would have ended up. She wiped the cold sweat from her brow and tried to calm her breathing.

“Your anxiety levels just peaked, Swan. Are you okay?” Echo asked quietly.

“I’m fine. It’s just… I was in that cruiser’s drone bay, and I saw what these monsters did to ponies,” Swan replied, her lips trembling. “We’re in way over our heads.”

“Don’t you worry, Swan,” Flurry assured with confidence. “We’re about to crash this little party.”

“What’s the plan, captain?” Flint asked.

“Simple. Flurry and I are going to go down there and kill them all,” Nyx said, the fire in her eyes making Swan shudder. “Your squad will give us fire support from up here.”

“Aww,” Fire Hawk moaned. “On the bench again.”

“Don’t worry, you’re in for a show,” Flurry grinned. “Hey Nyx, how much insurance does this ship have?”

“Most of this will have to be scrapped anyway, so you can have your fun,” Nyx replied, a slight smile creasing her muzzle. “Just make sure your shields protect the crew.”

“Gotcha. Just like Antares V?”

“Only with fewer explosions, I hope,” Nyx said.

The raw confidence of the pair of alicorns was like a breath of fresh air. The overwhelming odds stacked against them had no effect on these two. Swan even felt her own fear begin to fade as their conviction rolled over.

“Would it help if their attention was at the door?” Echo asked. “I can help in that regard.”

“Anything that gets them away from my crew would be great,” Nyx said, giving her a nod. “Okay, everypony get ready—we move on your go, Echo.”

Swan swallowed, the anticipation making her feel like her heart was throwing a rave party in her chest.

“Stay close to me, newbie,” Princess said. “And pick your targets carefully with that filly’s pellet gun you got.”

“Okay,” she replied, steadying her shaking forelegs as they all got into position.

Everyone’s eyes turned to Echo, who drew in a breath and let out an eerie chittering call.

The effect was instant. The ferals below began to let out angry chitters of their own, rushing to reinforce the barricade. One of them hopped onto the turret, aiming it at the door which Echo’s call appeared to come from.

“Guess that’s my cue,” Flurry grinned. Suddenly, she vanished from the gangway in a burst of golden light. Air rushed into the void where her body was, causing a loud clap with the crackle of discharging energy.

Before Swan could spot where the alicorn had gone, Nyx leapt from the gangway.

As the black alicorn fell, the black void cast out from her once more, enveloping the room below in a shroud of darkness. Despite the lack of light, Swan’s darksight kept her aware of what was happening.

The changelings below quickly fell into disarray, crashing into each other while those in flight scattered every which way. Nyx dove through the mess, small flickers of telekinetically gripped blades leaving twin trails of death in her wake.

Swan gasped at the display and only then noticed a shimmering distortion covering the area where the fallen crew had been gathered.

“Showtime, kid,” Princess said, spinning up the barrels on her chaingun.

Nyx flowed through them like water, her blades slicing through the scattered ranks like a bloody whirlwind. Even the armoured forms of the ferals offered no resistance as heads and limbs were sent flying with each slice.

If Nyx was a tornado, Flurry was a hurricane, ripping whole workstations from the wall and crushing groups with each swing. When the workstation disintegrated, Flurry simply plucked ferals into the air with her telekinesis. Their struggling forms were then smashed into their colleagues until they too fell apart.

Swan could only watch in awe, her rifle forgotten in her hooves. Seeing Flurry tear ferals apart with overwhelming magical prowess reminded her of how differently the fight in Oakheart’s office could have gone.

Just then, the squad around her opened fire into the darkness below, snapping her out of her reverie.

The two alicorns continued to fight through the darkness, moving towards each other as they carved a bloody swath through any feral unfortunate enough to be in their path.

Swan managed to pick off a changeling that was firing blindly into the commotion while hiding behind a metal crate. At that moment, she noticed detail and color begin to return. Nyx’s void-casting spell had worn off, revealing the alicorns near the centre of the room.

At least half of the enemy had been cut down, leaving many of the survivors looking for cover once they could see. The larger ferals, however, held no firearms. These brutes mindlessly charged at the alicorns, their hoof-claws scraping at the decking as they ran.

Nyx and Flurry stood back to back, flowing around each other like ballroom dancers. With each movement, the other reacted with a sword thrust or shield. Bodies soon piled at their hooves as they continued their bloody dance.

It abruptly ended when the turret opened fire, causing a hail of plasma bolts to slam into Flurry’s hastily erected shield. The golden shimmering sphere which surrounded the alicorns rippled and pulsed with each hit, making Flurry grimace as she struggled to keep it intact through the onslaught.

With Flurry occupied, Nyx tossed a blade at the turret’s operator, causing the changeling to jerk back in a spray of blood. Swan’s eyes widened as she saw Flurry telekinetically wrench the turret right off the deck to which it was bolted, then use it to pummel nearby changelings into a sticky, broken mess.

Swan was so enthralled she didn’t notice Princess shouting at her until a hoof knocked her to the ground.

“Stop daydreaming! We’ve got company!” Princess yelled as pulse blasts from enemy weapons streaked into the space she’d just occupied.

Blinking in surprise, she followed Princess’ chaingun as it swung around to meet the oncoming wave of armoured ferals charging across the catwalk.

Two were felled in rapid succession with shots from Priest, but still the remainder surged forward.

Swan took aim and fired. One of them jerked backward, only to be carried forward by the sheer momentum of its brethren.

Before she could fire again, a cry rang out from behind.

“Chief’s been hit!”

Swan looked to see Flintlock knocked to the ground, smoke billowing from his chest plate.

Suddenly, she felt a rush of heat wash over her as Fire Hawk burst into flame. The ferals halted their charge as the white and yellow flames in equine form took to the forefront.

“Balcony’s closed!” Fire Hawk roared, her flame sweeping over them in a rolling wave.

All other sound was drowned out in the roar of the fire. The ferals on the gangway either disappeared or were turned into living torches. A few leapt over the railing, desperate to escape the fire consuming them.

“Hey, I made some fireflies,” Fire Hawk chuckled darkly as her flames died down.

“Enough of the quips and help me!” Echo called, holding onto the writhing Flintlock.

Swan dropped her rifle and rushed over to them, pinning down the groaning thestral.

“You’ll be okay, chief,” Echo assured, pulling an auto-injector from her pack and carefully inserting it between Flintlock’s armour plates.

“We got this, pillow-stuffer,” Fire Hawk said, dropping out of her nirik form to assist Echo. “I need you to get out there and cover us while we patch up the chief,” she ordered before looking down at Flint. “Damn it chief, you’re making me miss all the action.”

Fire’s complaining was soon lost as a loud metallic crash echoed through the chamber.

Swan grabbed her rifle and leapt from the balcony. With a few flaps of her wings, she quickly found herself a hiding spot where she could provide cover for Flint and Echo.

Down below, the fight had devolved into a few scattered pockets of ferals firing at the two alicorns from whatever cover they could find. The ground was covered in broken bodies and crumpled equipment. Some ferals lay draped across overhanging pipes, their bodies twisted in unnatural directions.

Standing side by side were Nyx and Flurry, now splattered in gore like terrifying apparitions from legend. Shots glanced off the golden shield projected in front of them as they advanced towards the last of their enemy.

Swan almost felt sorry for the ferals as they desperately tried to fend off the two approaching alicorns. Her pity swiftly died as she remembered what they had done to those ponies on the cruiser.

She took aim, firing off several bursts at the cowering changelings. Most glanced off the cover around them, but one feral peered up at the wrong time and caught a bolt to the head.

As the others tried to react, a section of railing and a ladder shot by, impaling two and driving them against the far wall. The last were cut to pieces as Nyx swept over them, leaving nothing but bloody corpses in her wake.

And then everything fell quiet.

Swan gingerly landed amongst the carnage, trying not to step in anything squelchy.

“Hey, Swan!” Flurry grinned, her mane and coat splattered with feral blood. “You okay?”

Swan hesitated for a moment, a sliver of fear creeping down her spine. Before her stood the infamous Last Shadow in all her terrible glory, looking as she must have after the battle of Mulberry Ridge.

And yet, Swan’s fear faded just as it appeared. The mental image of Last Shadow was gone, revealing Flurry Heart, the pony that had saved her life.

“Yeah, but the chief’s been hit,” Swan replied. “Echo’s with him now.”

A look of worry crossed Flurry’s features, and she quickly teleported away, leaving Swan alone with Nyx.

Swan gingerly followed after Nyx as she approached the bodies of her crew.

They were in the same state as those they had found in Medical, lying limp with blissful expressions on their faces. They seemed to have survived the battle unscathed.

Swan heard Nyx let out a gentle relieved sigh.

As they checked the crew, they found some ponies whose eyes gazed blankly into space. They were alive, but they didn’t respond as Nyx gently nudged them. The alicorn lowered her head, her ears flattening and her wings drooping as they found a few more like this, piled like tinder.

“What’s wrong with them?” Swan asked, tentatively.

“They’ve been drained of their emotions,” Nyx said softly. “All that’s left is a shell—an empty husk where once there was a pony full of life and personality.”

Swan could hear the deep sadness in Nyx’s voice, the alicorn’s eyes glistening.

“There are still hundreds more missing,” Nyx added. “We’ll need to find them.”

“I’m sure most have found a place to hide,” Swan offered, yet the hollowness in her voice made her wince. “Though on the cruiser, I saw… I…”

“I know what you saw,” Nyx stated.

Silence hung between them as Nyx stood there, her jaw clenched tight and her wings bristling. “I’m sorry,” Swan offered before leaving the alicorn to her thoughts.

Flurry touched down on the lower deck, carrying Flintlock. She set him down to rest near the crew as the other members of the squad arrived.

“How is he?” Swan asked.

“He’ll be okay,” Echo replied as Flurry helped the chief get comfortable. “I had to dope him up for the pain.” Flurry then walked to where Nyx was getting a closer look at her crew, lying on the deck nearby.

“That’s a relief,” Swan replied. Considering the history between Flurry and the thestral, she didn’t want to imagine the additional fury which could have been unleashed.

“It’ll take more than that to take out the chief,” Echo said with a soft smile.

“Damn straight,” Fire Hawk said, giving an awed whistle at the devastation around them. “Those two really did a number on this place. We’re talking weeks in dry dock and a very unfortunate cleanup detail.”

Swan spared a glance at Flurry and Nyx, standing away from them and talking quietly amongst themselves.

“Everypony start gathering up any weapons,” Echo ordered. “We don’t want to leave any lying around. You too, Swan.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Swan replied.

It was as she began her search that a light on an instrument panel caught her eye.

“Hey, I thought the ship had no power,” Swan said, gaining Nyx and Flurry’s attention.

Nyx trotted over and wiped away blood and shattered glass from the terminal as though she had an invisible squeegee.

“Impossible,” she muttered. “According to this, ship CAPS are at eighty percent.”

She quickly tapped a control on the terminal, looking expectedly off to her side. With a clunk and whir of mechanical servos, a partition along the nearby bulkhead slid back. Rows of enormous CAPS cells were revealed, standing several canters high and glowing a bright sky-blue with magical energy.

“I don’t understand,” Nyx continued. “Where did all this power come from?”

“The Syndicate cruiser had some kind of umbilicals attached to the Orion earlier,” Flurry mentioned as she approached the enormous power cells. “Spotted them when I was blowing their boarding tubes. They must have been feeding power into the Orion. Probably so they could make off with her.”

“Something doesn’t add up about that. We should have been able to see the energy transfer from the bridge,” Nyx muttered, turning her attention back to the console. “Ah, here we go. Power conduits have been physically cut to most of the ship, including engines.”

“That makes no sense. How can they steal the ship without engines?” Flurry pointed out.

“Oh. Oh no…” Nyx murmured. “All the power is being fed forward, down the neck, to the bow of the ship where Forward Fire Control is located. They’ve also left conduits to all three amplification pylons on the wingtips. The main cannon could fire.”

“Wait, is that the thing that cut the ginormous hole in the big asteroid we hid in?” Swan asked.

Nyx nodded solemnly.

“They might be trying to take out the Glorium,” Flurry suggested. “This thing could easily one-shot the carrier. They wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“No!” Swan exclaimed. “We’ve got to warn them!”

“Ship comms are still completely down. We don’t know anything for sure, but we have to find out and fast,” Nyx declared. “Echo, are you in command with the chief down?”

“Yes, captain.”

“I need you to secure Engineering and get help for my crew. Whatever the enemy is up to here, you can bet more will be showing up before long. Flurry and I will head straight to Forward Fire Control and find out what’s going on.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Echo said before turning to face Swan. “You and Princess head back to the concourse and bring back help. With luck, you’ll find Delta team already there.”

“Aww, why me?” Princess groaned.

“Because you’ve whined the most since we got here,” Echo replied, earning chuckles from Priest and Fire Hawk.

“When you get back, I want your team to join us at Forward Fire Control,” Nyx added. “I don’t like this at all.” She then turned to Flurry. “Come on, we don’t have time to waste.”

“Keep your eyes open for Bravo team,” Echo called out as they trotted away. “Fire Control was their drop point, so they’ve probably already secured it for you.”

“Will do, thanks for that,” Nyx affirmed.

Flurry looked to Swan. “No rest for the wicked. See ya around.”

“Be careful,” Swan said.

“Hey,” Flurry said with a wink. “It’s me.”

Flurry and Nyx briskly trotted back through the darkness of the abandoned corridors. With luck, they’d get through without any significant obstacles in the fifteen hundred canters of ground they had to cover before arriving at Forward Fire Control.

Most of the journey would be a straight run down the long, slender neck of the ship, which had no sneaky hiding places for an ambush or other trouble. While that would be exhausting, the slow part would be getting to the neck in the first place.

Flurry soon found herself short of breath, her lungs still not fully recovered from her time in hard vacuum. Nyx was trotting ahead, not looking back, as Flurry started to slow in order to soothe her aching muscles.

What’s more, Flurry could see signs in Nyx’s body language that the mare was about to lose it. Her stiff gait, her bristled wings, and her constantly flicking ears all told Flurry that her patience was at an end.

The rush was for a good reason—to save the Glorium and everypony aboard—but something was niggling at the back of her mind.

“Nyx, hold up,” she urged.

Nyx looked back to find Flurry had slowed to a walk, an irritated expression crossing her face as she turned and waited for her to catch up.

“What is it?”

“Does this situation make sense to you at all?” Flurry asked while catching her breath and hacking out a few coughs.

“It seems pretty clear to me. Do you want me to get some coloured markers and explain it to you?” Nyx snapped, her tone sharp and cutting.

Flurry bristled but didn’t bite back. “Come on, Nyx, think about it. That cruiser had been feeding the Orion power before the Glorium even got here. Why?”

As Flurry caught up, Nyx let out a sigh. The two began a brisk walk, resuming their course.

“It would take a long time to send that much power over. What’s your point?”

“They had no idea we were coming,” Flurry explained. “I don’t think we were the target.”

“What else would be the target, Flurry? The cruiser? Put it out of its misery?” Nyx shot back, the edge in her voice beginning to get under Flurry’s skin.

“Okay hear me out. That big gun of yours… is it on a turret?

Nyx eyed her skeptically. “No, the bow needs to be pointed directly at the target.”

“And the engine power is cut, right? So the ship can’t even so much as steer.”

“Right…”

“So the Glorium would have to be parked right in front of the Orion. On top of that, they’d have to completely ignore the power buildup, right?” Flurry cringed for a moment as she remembered the bridge crew. “Granted, Downdraft might… but Oakheart is no fool. There’s no way he’d line himself up for a perfect shot like that.

Nyx went to speak, then paused, her jaw working.

“You have a point,” she conceded. “But why, then?”

“Well, I… I don’t actually know,” Flurry admitted. “I thought I was on to something, but it still doesn’t make sense. At least we know everypony on the Glorium is safe, right?”

Nyx narrowed her eyes, her tail flicking from side to side. “For now, yes, but we still have to find out what’s going on.”

“I know. But can we at least slow down a bit? I need to catch my breath,” Flurry pleaded gently.

“Alright,” Nyx relented, moving on at a more relaxed pace, though the stony silence and her pinned ears said that she was not happy.

Their route took them past the ship’s central computer, down a maintenance shaft to change decks, and then past the research laboratories as they made their way forward. Flurry followed along behind Nyx like a dog on a leash, only stopping when Nyx had to check her map, sometimes grumbling to herself.

“What’s with you anyway? You’re not usually this sullen,” Flurry asked.

“Over a hundred of my crew are dead or in need of serious therapy,” Nyx spat. “So forgive me if I’m not in the best of moods right now.”

“And this is helping? You won’t even talk to me. It’s like you’re on a mission all by yourself. We’re a team, Nyx.”

“A team,” Nyx laughed bitterly.

“Yeah, a team,” Flurry pressed. “You know, when we work together, rather than you stringing me along and using me like a cudgel.”

Nyx stopped in her tracks and pivoted around to face her. “That’s rich coming from you!” she snapped.

Flurry felt herself losing her cool. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Always jumping in head first, damn the consequences or what anyone around you thinks. Because of course, you know better.”

The venom in Nyx’s voice made Flurry take a step back.

“How could you?” Nyx pressed, her tone growing even more derisive. “Is getting back at Mom so important to you that you drag our whole family through the mud?”

“What?! I—”

Nyx gestured to Flurry’s black wings. “What was it, for kicks?! To pay off a debt? Is your ‘master’ lying in a ditch somewhere, or is he tied up in that hovel you call a ship?”

Flurry felt tears sting her eyes, every barb, every accusation cutting deeply.

“I did it for you, alright?!” she yelled. “I got these wings because that was the only way to get the rescue going. All because I love you, the only family I give a damn about anymore!”

Flurry looked away, a ragged breath escaping her muzzle. “I know what’s waiting for me back on Harmony, Nyx. I’m not a fool.”

She turned her back, wiping tears from her eyes and taking a breath to calm herself. “Maybe I am a fool, thinking this would change anything between us.”

“Flurry, I…” Nyx’s voice suddenly sounded so hollow.

“Forget it,” Flurry ended. “Let’s just get this over with so I can get off this stupid ship and out of your mane if I’m such an embarrassment to you.”

Suddenly, she felt Nyx’s forelegs reach out and pull her into a tight embrace. A part of her wanted to resist, but she was too emotionally exhausted to put up a fight.

“I’m sorry,” Nyx murmured. “All I ever hear of you is what they say on the news. I had no idea… and now I’ve said such awful things. Forgive me.”

The sadness and regret in Nyx’s voice touched Flurry’s heart in a way she wasn’t prepared for. Could this finally be over? They had been estranged for so long, it felt like she might never have family again.

“We’re really bad at this reunion thing, aren’t we?” Flurry chuckled awkwardly.

“Yes, we are,” Nyx replied. “And once this is over, I want you to tell me everything that’s happened. I’ll do whatever I can to help you,” she assured as she released Flurry to face her. “But you’re still going to get a lecture, so prepare yourself.”

“Hmm, getting enslaved by a moronic pegasus noble or receiving a patented Nyx lecture… tough choice,” Flurry quipped with a smile, wiping her eyes.

“Come on, I don’t think the changelings are going to wait for us to sort out all our family problems,” Nyx said, giving her a nudge.

“Sure.”

Moving onwards, Flurry felt her spirits were lifted, finally being able to talk with Nyx. Things were far from settled, but it was a start.

It wasn’t long before a distressed voice sounded from the distance up ahead.

“Hello? Is anypony there?” It was a mare’s voice, timid and frightened, coming from an open doorway.

Their ears perked together, and they broke into a brisk trot.

“Can you help me? I’m trapped in here,” the mare called.

The voice emerged from within a large storeroom, past a set of heavy sliding doors that were wide open. Flurry came to a stop just at the edge, shining light from her horn into the gloomy space within. All her instincts were tingling as Nyx also stopped beside her, peering inside.

Flurry looked to Nyx, who gave her a knowing nod.

“Honestly, do they really expect anypony to fall for that trick?” Flurry whispered.

“You did.”

“Only that one time,” she huffed, giving Nyx a pout. “So what’s in there?”

“Golem storage,” Nyx said, walking slowly inside. “They supplemented the living crew for the voyage, but we ordered them into storage when the power went out.”

“TEI showing a lot of baddies?”

“Eyup.”

“So how do you want to play this?”

“Easy. We take them up on their offer,” Nyx whispered before clearing her voice and calling out. “It’s okay, we’re here to help!”

“Oh, thank goodness! I was so scared,” came the reply. Flurry had to admit, it would be fairly convincing to the inexperienced. She warily peered into the darkness, barely making out several rows of golem recharge cages stacked atop each other.

The interior was far larger than Flurry had been expecting, with enough space for a hundred recharge cages at least. In the centre of the room, the cages were arranged in rows two abreast, flanked on either side by more stacked against the walls. There was no sign of any crew, their only company being the powered-down golems, slumped in their cages.

These were civilian utility models. Roughly pony shaped, their chassis were painted a bright orange, marked with yellow and black chevrons. A large black lens dominated their sharp-angled heads, with ear-shaped auditory modules sitting atop.

She stayed close to Nyx, who was sniffing the air, her ears swivelling warily.

“There’s at least a doz—” she began but was interrupted by the sudden metallic screech of the entry doors being forced shut, leaving the room in darkness, save for the light from their horns.

“Oh no. A trap. What a surprise,” Flurry said sardonically.

From a multitude of hiding places in the storeroom, the ferals pounced at them.

Two minutes later, there was silence.

“So, how’d you rate it?” Nyx asked as she pried the entry door open, stepping back out into the corridor.

“Meh, I’d give ’em a five out of ten. Bonus points for the flashy attack at the end,” Flurry replied, tossing a shattered golem leg aside.

“You like using expensive equipment as a club, don’t you,” Nyx observed.

“I have expensive tastes, what can I say?”

Nyx let out a weary sigh and sat on her haunches. She pulled her helmet off and wiped the sweat from her brow.

“Want me to go and find a mobility scooter for you?” Flurry asked, giving her a smug grin. “Looking a bit shaky there.”

“I’ll be alright, but you’re just lucky the Orion’s doorways are so wide, given what a snack fiend you are,” Nyx smirked, giving her a poke.

“Voluptuous is the word you’re looking for,” Flurry countered, shaking her flank.

“More like volumptuous,” Nyx shot back, blowing a raspberry at her.

Flurry let out a slightly annoyed huff. “Don’t you have somewhere to lead us? Age before beauty and all that.”

They both glared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter. It was only fleeting, but for that moment, it was just like all those years ago. They were family again.

Sadly, the moment passed.

“Alright, fun time’s over. We’re almost there,” Nyx said, donning her helmet once more.

“And here I was enjoying wandering around every dark hallway your ship has,” Flurry commented, letting out a weary sigh as she prepared herself.

Soon, the corridor showed signs of a battle. Blood and scoring from weapons were streaked across the walls, with a few changeling bodies scattered here and there.

The pair of alicorns came to a stop at a section of twisted rubble on the far side of an intersection. It was peculiar, like something had scooped a portion of the bulkhead and ceiling away, crumpling it into a heap which blocked their path.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Nyx said. “The changelings wouldn’t have any equipment capable of doing this. Would they?”

Flurry thought for a moment. The Syndicate were a tricky bunch, but this was starting to paint a picture that was pretty far outside their standard troublemaking.

“I doubt it,” she replied. “Better question is why?”

“I’m not sure, but everything’s pointing to them wanting to keep us away from Fire Control. Look at this mess. It’ll take us a while to find a way around. Dangit, I can almost see through to the other side.” She gave the heap a telekinetic tug, resulting only in the reinforced steel material creaking in protest but remaining in place.

“Or we could teleport,” Flurry offered, grinning smugly.

“Or we could do that,” Nyx said, rolling her eyes.

“Shall we then, captain?” she offered, extending a foreleg.

Nyx grasped it, and with a flash of golden light, they reappeared on the other side of the blockage.

“Show off,” Nyx commented before continuing on.

A short distance beyond where they appeared, a sign indicated they had arrived at the midpoint tram station. Opening the door, the vast darkened tube of the tram greeted them. The welcome sight of a tramcar sat on the edge of the platform, light streaming out from inside the cabin.

“Great! No more walking!” Flurry whooped, eager to rest her aching hooves. “Wait, what if they booby-trapped it?”

“Scans don’t show any explosives,” Nyx stated, consulting her holo-brace. “And the forward track has power as well.”

“Should we wait for Echo and the others?” Flurry asked.

“There’s no time,” Nyx said as she stepped aboard the tram. “They can catch up.”

As Flurry stepped inside, the fresh smell of new upholstery filled her lungs. After all the blood and smoke, it was a tiny glimmer of normality. A pleasant tune hummed from the speakers as the tram made its way into the dark tube along the ship’s neck.

“Motorized travel is so underrated,” she said with a contented sigh as she melted into one of the comfortable seats.

“You never did like walking, even as a filly—always begging me to carry you,” Nyx chuckled, settling in herself.

“I like to travel in style.”

“Always so high maintenance,” Nyx grinned, shaking her head.

After a pause, her voice took on a more serious tone. “Flurry?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for coming all this way to help us—to help me. I haven’t been the best cousin as of late, so I want to make it up.”

“I don’t know, my feelings are still pretty hurt,” Flurry said with a gleam in her eye. “It might make me feel better if you could part with some of those golems.”

“Bah, you’re incorrigible!” Nyx rolled her eyes.

“Seriously though, you’re my family Nyx,” Flurry added with a sincere smile on her muzzle. “I’d never leave you hangin’.”

Nyx returned the smile, and Flurry felt an old warmth stir in her heart.

“Now arriving at Forward Fire Control. Please stand clear of the doors and take all your belongings with you,” the tram announced, breaking the reverie.

They could see the tram station ahead, fully illuminated like an island in the dark. It was little more than a gantry platform sitting atop several massive pony-sized conduits. They, in turn, clustered around three huge railgun barrels that extended out of sight.

Flurry tensed, expecting the windows to explode in a fusillade of fire at any moment. Then, the tramcar came to a stop, barely making any noise as it slowed. The doors hissed open.

The platform was empty, with not even a barricade blocking the station exit.

“Well that’s… unexpected,” Flurry remarked. “I almost feel insulted.”

Nyx warily made her way to the tram exit, her unsheathed sword hovering at the ready. As they stepped onto the platform grill, Nyx’s armored hoofsteps clanked loudly on the deck, making Flurry wince.

“TEI is clear. I was sure we’d be in for a fight,” Nyx commented.

Flurry gingerly stepped out onto the platform, feeling a slight breeze waft through her mane from the vast tunnel.

A narrow doorway inlaid into the wall beside the platform was open. Above the door was stencilled: ‘Forward Fire Control and Sensor Arrays’.

“Bravo team was assigned to come here,” Flurry mentioned. “They probably already secured the place, which explains our lack of a welcome party.”

“Bravo team, this is the captain. Do you read?” Nyx spoke into her holo-brace. They waited a moment to see if the squad would reply, but nothing came.

“They might be further in,” Flurry suggested, though she kept her doubts to herself. “Radios are a bit dodgy with shielded bulkheads throughout the ship.”

Nyx nodded, her ear flicking a bit—a sure sign to Flurry that she didn’t buy that explanation.

Everything seemed normal. The power was on, the lights shone cleanly, and there was even the faint hum of power flowing through the massive energy conduits beneath them. Nothing showed even so much as a blast mark on a wall or a spent CAPS cell on the floor. Everything was normal, and yet Flurry’s fur was standing on end.

As they reached the platform exit, a pungent, coppery scent wafted into Flurry’s nostrils. Nyx must have smelt it too, as she balked, her whole body tensing.

They exchanged glances and cautiously moved forward. Nyx passed through the doorway first, though she came to a stop almost immediately within. A tiny gasp escaped her cousin's lips as she stood stock still.

“What is it?” Flurry asked, stepping in to join her in the corridor. As she looked forward, her eyes widened in disbelief at the scene before her.

A large blast door had come down ahead of them, yet it was torn open like tissue paper. The thick plates of spell-forged alloys that could withstand tremendous forces were rent and buckled inward.

Even worse was the sheer amount of blood.

Pools of crimson soaked the decking leading up to the door. The walls had been splattered with it, dripping from pipes and fittings.

Bloody hoofprints were smeared against the blast door, scattered in a frantic pattern. It told the story of a desperate, futile last attempt to stay alive.

Most ominously of all, there were no bodies—just a bloody smear leading further in.

“Well, this isn’t good,” Flurry gulped, gazing down the corridor at the carnage within.

Just then, the distant sounds of gunfire erupted from beyond the doorway.

Chapter 16 - One of the Team

The dark corridors weren’t as intimidating this time around. Swan figured it was partly because she had been here before, but it was most likely because the alicorns had come and taken charge in a rather forceful way. Engineering, at last, was secure. Now, it was just a matter of escorting all these twitchy technicians and mechanics so they could get the ship working again.

Despite this, the errand was far from enjoyable for her. For starters, they had to track down the bug named Doppel, as he was the most qualified to treat the chief’s injuries. He also claimed to be able to stabilize the crew that had been fed upon. As unpleasant as it was to accompany this creature, Swan found she was more irritated by the large mustang, who seemed equally disgruntled to be with her.

With Swan and Princess taking up the rear, the five ponies of Delta team marched along at the front. They displayed the usual caution that Alpha team had shown, though Princess had assured them that the way was clear. The team tolerated the hushed whispers darting amongst the jittery group of civilians behind them, but they still periodically shushed them in an effort to keep the clopping of hooves to a minimum.

Swan was relieved that she hadn’t heard any sounds of combat since they had left. Perhaps the worst really was over, and now it would simply be a matter of mopping up stragglers. Her thoughts drifted to the alicorns. She still could scarcely believe what she had witnessed. It gave her pause as she remembered her long-standing bitter hatred for Last Shadow, now known to her as Flurry Heart. Just earlier today, she had actually believed on some level that she might prevail and either capture or slay the evil mare. Now, all she could think of was how foolish she was.

As much as she hated to admit it, she had actually begun to warm up to the alicorn, though it was still a complete mystery to her why Flurry had gone out of her way to save a lowly pegasus slave. Not only that, but her repeated goodwill entirely contradicted everything Swan knew to be true about this mare.

Thinking about Flurry helped but ultimately failed to distract her from dwelling on what awaited her return to Harmony station… or the sheer tragedy of so many in her aerie who had been lost today. Her ears flattened and her heart clenched in her chest as she thought of all of the dear friends and comrades that she would never see again.

Swan fought off a whimper and wiped her blurring eyes.

“What’s up with you?” Princess asked.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” Swan replied.

“Sure,” Princess snarked, an unladylike snort escaping her muzzle. “This is just what I need—stuck with a bunch of eggheads and an emotional pillow-stuffer.”

“I have a name, you know,” Swan snapped, a bit harsher than she intended.

Princess shrugged.

“What’s your problem with me?” Swan asked, feeling her patience growing thin. “You’ve been like a grumpy old mare ever since we set off.”

“My problem? I’m stuck here foalsitting some newbie when we could be out there putting down the rest of those bugs!” Princess grumbled, ignoring the dirty look Doppel was giving her.

“This isn’t exactly my first choice of places to be, either,” Swan huffed, looking away.

“Oh, of course. I imagine you’re missing all the booze and drugs you get at your wild parties back on the station,” Princess replied. “Don’t give me that look. I’ve heard the stories.”

Swan’s wings bristled at her sides. It was as if she had been slapped in the face. “What? You can’t possibly think any of us enjoy that.”

“With all the laughter and drunken revelry that goes on down in the hangars? I’m told the sounds of ponies pumping fur can sometimes be heard echoing down the halls all through the night. So I’d say that yeah, it sure sounds like somepony is enjoying it.” Princess shook her head. “It’s disgraceful.”

“Listen up, you oversized dirt pony,” Swan hissed, opening her wings and gesturing to her black primaries. “You see these? It means I’m somepony’s property. And the same goes for my entire aerie. We don’t get a choice, so every time you hear the sounds of ‘pumping fur’ just remember some mare or filly is probably wishing she were dead just about then.”

The look on Princess’s face actually surprised Swan. First, silenced shock. Then, confusion and maybe a bit of anger. Finally, regret.

“I… I had no idea.” Her ears had fallen flat as they continued on their way through the darkened corridors.

Swan felt time stretch as the moment lingered and she tried to sweep a hundred terrible memories back into the deep recesses of her mind. She let out a heavy sigh and looked away.

“So, Merry Weather owns you?” Princess asked tentatively, sounding bewildered by the concept.

“Yeah,” Swan muttered.

“Damn. What a creep. Can’t you do something? Fight back, maybe?”

Swan considered the risk of admitting what she and Blitz had privately hoped for. Princess didn’t seem the type to rat her out.

“If only,” she said finally. “It’s an enchantment only he can remove. He tortures us if we disobey or even for the fun of it. He could kill us all if he wished. But I swear by the winds, I won’t stop looking for a way to be rid of him.”

“Right. Well, I sure have a whole breakfast of eggs on my face now, don’t I?” Princess commented.

“It’s fine—just forget about it,” Swan dismissed. “Besides, I should thank you for saving my life.”

A puzzled look crossed the horse’s muzzle. “I don’t follow.”

“On the catwalk. You knocked me down just before one of those bugs would have shot me.”

“What, that? No, that’s just—”

“I owe you a debt as a matter of honour,” Swan pressed.

“Hold on, gonna stop you right there,” Princess interrupted. “You don’t owe me anything. I’d have done the same for anypony in the squad. Besides, if you’d gotten yourself shot under my watch, the paperwork would be a bitch.”

Her playful tone brought a small smile to Swan’s face. It was an odd but welcome change coming from the gruff mare after she had been so prickly and standoffish.

“Oh, so that’s how it is,” she chuckled. “And here I thought you dirt ponies loved filling out forms.”

“Mustang.”

“Dirt… mustang pon—”

“Do I look like a pony to you?” Princess reared up, gripping her chaingun while bracing her rear hooves apart. She had to duck to avoid her head hitting the ceiling. She then resumed her stance on all fours as they continued following behind the others.

“I… well, no wings and no horn usually means dirt pony,” Swan shrugged.

“A mustang is not a pony, you idiot. Don’t go lumping me in with those earth ponies,” Princess huffed, her tail flicking from side to side.

Swan had to admit she had no idea what that meant. “Are you from Equus?”

“Yep. Born and raised on the open plains,” Princess said with a smile, though there was a hint of sadness in her voice. “You won’t find many of us out here in the colonies. We tend not to like all this fancy technology. I’m sure my family is wandering aimlessly across old Equestria somewhere as we speak.”

“So, you’re nomads then?” Swan asked, earning a nod from the mare.

She was reminded of the old legends her mother had told her when she was a filly. The aeries of the pegasi would follow the winds across ancient Equus. The thought of simply travelling from place to place with her family brought a smile to her face.

“Sounds nice,” she commented.

“Nice? I hated it,” Princess snorted. “Imagine constantly moving yet never getting anywhere. You watch the world grow, expand, and change while you’re stuck in the same routine year after year, generation after generation. You stay strangled by tradition that tells you progress is evil.”

Princess glared at a few technicians that were listening in.

“Evil?” Swan asked.

“Technology is a sin and only brings misfortune,” Princess uttered, disdain thick in her voice. “Of course you ponies have your magic, so I get it. Advancing is in your nature.”

“You don’t have magic? Like, at all? Even dir— earth ponies can do some crazy things with their hooves.”

“I can pick up my gun,” Princess replied.

“Huh. Okay, so how did you end up here?” Swan asked tentatively. “In the colonies, I mean.”

“Soon as I got the chance, I was outta there,” Princess said. “Of course my dad was furious, as was the rest of my herd. But the stars were calling me.”

Swan stared at her, slack-jawed. The thought of turning on your family, let alone your aerie, was absolutely unthinkable. It had been drilled into her since she had first learned to fly. The aerie was life. Without one, a pegasus was nothing.

“I could never do that,” she said, her ears flattening.

“Trust me, when your father is already picking out a suitor for you, and your mother is talking about how many foals you’re going to have, it’s time to blow that joint,” Princess replied.

Swan fell silent. That sounded just like what had been expected of her before she was branded. It was true she could serve the Republic in the military, but her suitor would have been chosen for her, for the sake of her House. She never even considered the notion that it was wrong.

“You and my dad would’ve gotten on well together,” Princess continued. “You pegasi love all that honour and duty stuff.”

“Yeah, probably,” Swan replied, though the bitterness towards her own father soured the thought.

“How’d you end up with that blackwing thing anyway?” Princess asked carefully. “You’ve got too much fight in you to have been born into it. Was it an honour thing?”

Swan hung her head low. “In a way, yes. I was thirteen when they came for me. Dragged me out of my classroom and branded me right there in the school courtyard.”

She tried to hide her glistening eyes by shifting her gaze to the side. “They called me the daughter of a traitor. One pony’s shame is their family’s shame.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Princess exclaimed.

“It’s the way things are,” Swan said with sadness. “Only through servitude can we atone. Eventually, there is freedom. Or death, which is essentially the same thing.”

“And how exactly does that make sense?”

“For some, our master can decide to free us after a time. Others might redeem themselves in the service of his majesty. Often, a great deed will earn our freedom, or at least, our master’s favour.”

“So that’s why you went after Flurry Heart,” Princess concluded. “But surely you didn’t think that would actually work.”

“I hoped,” she said, though the mere thought was ridiculous now. “I had to try; I had personal reasons.”

Princess nodded. “But that being the case, why are you so chummy with her now?”

“We’re not chummy.”

“Oh yeah? You were trailing behind her like a lost puppy earlier,” Princess said, a slight smile playing at her lips.

“She saved my life. She also…” Swan’s words trailed off, her emotions tugging her one way then the other. “I don’t know what it is. I have every reason to hate her, but… but every time I turn around, she’s done something which makes me feel like everything’s gonna be alright. Somehow.”

“Sounds like trust to me,” Princess said.

Swan looked to her with incredulity for a second, before her words sank deeper. Trust Last Shadow? It was impossible, ridiculous! And yet, she couldn’t deny that Flurry had not once done anything to earn it—even to the point of putting her own life on the line for the aerie.

“Well, this has been a productive session,” a stallion’s voice announced, breaking her out of her thoughts.

In front of them was Dr. Doppel, wearing a smug grin as he glanced back.

“You’ve both made some real progress today,” he continued. “I’ll give you both a sticker when we get back to Harmony. Shall we meet same time next week?”

Swan felt heat rush to her cheeks as her own words got caught on her lips.

“Get moving, you stupid bug!” Princess snapped, herding the chuckling doctor away. “Come on, Swan. Let’s get these foals to where they need to be.”

It took a moment for Princess’ words to properly sink in before a warm smile crossed Swan’s face.

“Right behind you.”

The civilians all breathed a sigh of relief as they approached Engineering with its well-lit interior. Then, that relief turned to gasps of horror as they realized that they had just walked into an abattoir.

Swan and Princess knew what they were returning to, of course. But nobody else expected the sheer amount of carnage from the alicorns’ rampage. Blood, viscera, and scattered limbs lay all around the core chamber. Smashed machinery and debris littered the room. A few of the civvies looked like they were going to faint, and some of them vomited on the spot, only adding to the sticky mess.

Delta team split up to cover the entrances, including the catwalk. After coming to terms with the scene, everyone else got to work. Earth pony mechanics began sizing up the physical damage to the room while unicorn technicians examined the equipment and terminals. Meanwhile, Echo led Dr. Doppel to Flintlock, who was still lying near the crew who had been victims of Syndicate changelings.

For her part, Swan had done what she was told, and now, she had that awkward feeling of being adrift with nothing to contribute. Princess had rejoined the rest of her team, reminding Swan that she was still a stranger among these ponies.

Her thoughts drifted to Blitz and the close friends from her aerie. If he were here, she knew he’d be chatting up every mare in sight. Just thinking about it gave her a slight chuckle.

Swan wandered over to where Flint was lying on the floor, being tended to by Doppel. In her time on the station, the chief was one of the few non-pegasi who she encountered regularly. Usually, it was over some trouble with the local dirt ponies, so she had gotten to know the thestral just a bit. His unusual way of looking at the world was something she had found strangely comforting in the past. And now, with everything going crazy, she could really use his insight again.

As she approached, Swan tried to keep her distance from Doppel, resisting the urge to shoo him off the fallen chief. As much as she hated it, this bug was the only one that could help.

“How is he?” she asked.

Doppel glanced up enough to acknowledge her. “What, no snide bug-related comment? Do I detect a small degree of tolerance coming from our pegasus guest?”

“It was a simple question.”

“Well, to be honest, I’ve been asked that so many times, I was thinking of putting up a sign for ponies to read,” Doppel grumbled as he worked on the chief’s wound. He then let out a sigh. “He’s stable, mostly. His armour took most of the hit, but he’s still got a nasty burn and a cracked rib from the impact.”

“Can I talk to him?”

“Talk all you want, but he’ll be under sedation for the next few hours. Until then, I wouldn’t expect much of a dialogue.”

“Right,” Swan said, her ears flattening.

Doppel gave her what could have been a sympathetic smile before turning his attention to the crew laid out nearby.

“Can you help them?” she asked tentatively as she followed his gaze.

The changeling frowned. “The ones with smiles on their muzzles will be fine once the nectar wears off. Nothing to do but wait. These ones, though…”

He stopped to regard a mare with a look of abject horror on her face, her eyes wide and ears pinned. Doppel clopped his hooves together in front of her face, to which there was no response. It was like she was catatonic, lost in some awful nightmare.

“I can help her, but it’s going to be a slow recovery. Active feeding does a lot of damage to the victim’s psyche.”

“Active? As opposed to what, exactly?”

“You really don’t know much about changelings, do you?” he frowned at her.

“I know what I’ve seen today, which says quite a lot, thanks,” she replied, trying to keep her tone level.

“We’re supposed to passively feed off the emotions you ponies emit into the Lifestream. Call it discipline if you will, but I couldn’t imagine doing this to somepony. Most of us would rather starve to death than eat the very seed of joy out of someone. We have lived among ponies in this way for countless millennia. Still, some of our kind don’t care about the harm they cause if it can get them a far more satisfying meal—or so I’m told.”

“The Syndicate.”

Doppel nodded. “Their kind is a blight on our race’s public image. But the Conformity has extremely strict rules. You needn’t worry about us, Lieutenant Swan Song.”

Doppel walked slowly, tending to each pony with such gentleness it took Swan by surprise. He didn’t use any instruments, simply lowering that crooked horn on his forehead to them. Whatever he did seemed to ease the look of terror on many of the ponies.

“What about this one?” Swan asked as Doppel closed the eyes of a stallion lying there with a completely blank look on his face.

“Sadly, there’s nothing left to save. He’s been fed upon quite aggressively, by many ferals. He’s just a husk of his former self now—wetware to be plugged into a Shuriken drone, but nothing more.”

A rising anger threatened to break free within Swan, but she held it in check. This was the precursor to what she had seen on the cruiser.

“I see,” she said, swallowing dryly.

Swan followed closely behind the doctor, partly out of lingering distrust, but mostly out of morbid curiosity. Watching him work made her resentment and revulsion fade a little. She could tell that he genuinely cared for these vulnerable ponies and took his job very seriously.

Suddenly, Doppel came to a stop next to a stallion dressed in a technician’s uniform. It was a soft-brown dirt pony with a mop of blond mane. He was lying catatonic, like so many before, only Doppel wore an angry scowl on his face as he regarded the pony.

“You can get up—you’re not fooling anyone,” he commanded.

When the stallion didn’t move, Doppel kicked him in the gut.

“—oof! Alright, alright,” the stallion said, suddenly becoming animated and alert. He rose to his hooves, appearing no worse for wear.

“Lieutenant, you have an impostor posing as one of the crew. This is a changeling, possibly a feral.”

Swan brought her rifle up instinctively, making the stallion wilt and take a few steps backward.

“What’s going on?” Echo asked as the members of Alpha team came to check what the fuss was about.

“I believe we have captured one of the feral raiding party,” Doppel explained.

Swan felt her face heat up as her anger rose. She took aim at the stallion’s head, clenching her teeth.

“I ain’t a feral,” the stallion whimpered.

Doppel let out an indignant snort. “I suggest you drop this charade immediately. Honestly, show some decency when you’ve been called out.”

The stallion opened his mouth to protest, but quickly shut it, giving a sullen nod.

A flash of green fire enveloped the stallion’s body, causing Swan to squint for just a moment. Then, right before her eyes, his form solidified, his fur and mane having vanished, being replaced with a black lattice of thin chitin plates. His eyes were green with slitted irises, and he bore fangs and a crooked horn, exactly like Dr. Doppel.

Swan’s eyes widened. He had been one that had butchered all those poor ponies! He was going to pay for what he had done. Swan flipped her weapon’s safety, causing it to emit a faint whine as it charged up. She felt her hoof pressing down on the trigger.

“Stand down, soldier,” Echo barked, snapping Swan out of the moment.

“But—” Swan began.

“He’s our prisoner. Got that?”

Swan went to protest, but Princess put a heavy hoof on her shoulder. Looking up, Swan saw the mustang shake her head gently.

They were right, of course. Executing prisoners was something Alliance grunts did, not an officer of the Republic. As much as she wanted to tear the changeling apart, she was going to have to let it go.

“Now,” Echo began. “How about you give us some answers. What’s going on here? Why did you attack this ship? Talk fast before I change my mind.”

“Okay okay, just keep that pegasus away from me, alright? She’s makin’ me queasy,” the changeling begged with a gulp.

“Swan, give him some room,” Echo called, gesturing for her to back away.

Swan shot him a look before flicking her safety on and backing off.

“Now talk,” Echo ordered. “If you cooperate now, it might help your case when the justicars come for you.”

Swan had no idea what that meant, but the mere mention of the name was enough to make the changeling go pale.

“R-right,” the changeling stammered, his wings buzzing. “The boss told us a juicy prize was passin’ through Dragon’s Head. Somethin’ that could replace that hunk a junk we were usin’,” he said.

“And how did you know about that?” Echo asked, her voice calm and non-threatening.

“No idea,” he shrugged. “The boss never tells us where she finds this stuff out.”

Swan watched Echo closely. The mare was stone-faced, not giving anything away.

“Continue,” Echo urged.

“So, the Houndrathi would bait this beast in, playin’ all wounded like,” he continued. “The boss said the cap’n alicorn wouldn’t leave nobody in the lurch, ’specially in pirate territory. Then they’d get blown away for their trouble after they attacked.”

“Your boss knows about Nyx?” Swan growled, flicking her rifle’s safety off once more. “Say the wrong thing, please…”

“I- I…” the changeling stammered. Echo gave Swan a serious look, prompting her to ease off so their prisoner could talk.

“We knew the big gun ain’t calibrated for alicorn power yet. All we needed to do was bait her into a single shot and she’d be dead in the water,” he blurted out. “Once the Houndrathi got wasted, we’d watch for a while to make sure she was offline, then we’d take ’er.”

“And how do you know so much about a top-secret ship, nevermind her route to Harmony?”

“I just do what I’m told. It pays to not ask questions,” the changeling said with a shrug. “But the boss knows a lot about it.”

“There’s just one problem with your story,” Echo said, her tone growing serious. “If you were trying to steal this ship for yourselves, why is the power cut off from the engines?”

“I don’t know,” the changeling said, shaking his head. “The relays were all torn out when we got here.”

Echo rubbed her chin with a hoof. “Show me.”

Swan followed behind as the changeling led them to a vast junction box at the base of one of the Nexus cores. She looked to Princess, hoping the mare would have some insight, but she was met with a shrug.

They all watched as Echo and the changeling peered inside an open panel. The pair of them were soon exchanging a series of technical jargon with each other.

Swan and Princess leaned forward, trying to get a better view of inside.

“What are we looking at?” Fire Hawk asked.

“The bug is showing Echo something,” Princess replied. “Nerd stuff.”

“Oooh,” Fire Hawk intoned, the note in her voice at odds with her confused frown.

Their pondering was broken as Echo stood up, a perturbed look crossing her features.

“Don’t keep us in suspense, Echo. What’s going on?” Fire Hawk asked.

“These cables are made from a spell-hardened lattice weave, practically unbreakable. They’ve been ripped out like they were nothing,” Echo said grimly. “It wasn’t random damage from the fight. This was quite deliberate.”

“If they were going to capture the ship, then why intentionally sabotage it?” Swan queried, feeling her confusion grow as more was revealed.

“I don’t know, but all the clues point to Forward Fire Control, where the power is going,” Echo said, looking to her squad. “We need to get there ASAP to support Nyx and Flurry.”

“What makes you think they need our help?” Fire Hawk asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Call it a bad feeling,” Echo replied. “All of you, check your weapons and get ready to move out.”

Princess and Fire Hawk nodded before walking away, whistling for Priest to join them.

“What should I do?” Swan asked.

“The technicians are going to try and get ship-to-ship comms working again,” Echo said, checking her own rifle. “With luck, you’ll be able to get in touch with your pilots in no time.”

Swan felt her spirits soar at the prospect of speaking with her aerie. Yet, something made her hesitate.

Her thoughts shifted to the alicorn that had saved her life, then to the ponies of Alpha team, who she was beginning to grow close to. They had tolerated and even trusted her, despite her inexperience. She couldn’t just abandon them now.

“I’d like to come with you,” she said quietly, her resolve growing by the moment.

“You’ve done enough for us already, Swan,” Echo urged. “This could be quite dangerous, and neither Flurry or the chief would forgive me if you got yourself killed.”

“I understand,” she replied. “But I want to see this through to the end.”

Echo looked unconvinced, her ears flicking and her jaw working.

“The kid’s good,” Princess suddenly chimed in, earning puzzled looks from both Fire Hawk and Priest. “Besides, we might need a pony with wings.”

Swan looked to the mustang with wide eyes. Princess simply nodded in response.

“Well then, that settles it,” Echo said, patting Swan on the shoulder. “Since the chief is out of action, we’ve got to fill our diversity quota for flying ponies. Looks like you’re with us for the duration.”

“Thank you,” Swan said, giving a humble bow.

“Don’t thank me yet; there’s no guarantee we’ll come back with our heads intact,” Echo said as a smile played at her lips.

“Hey, glad you’re stickin’ with us,” Fire Hawk grinned, walking over to join her with the others in tow.

“Looks like you won’t be getting rid of me just yet,” Swan replied.

“Lucky us,” Princess groaned, though her accepting expression gave her away.

“Did someone kidnap Princess when we weren’t looking?” Priest chuckled. “Maybe the Doc can check and see if she’s a changeling.”

“Yeah, yeah, very funny,” Princess grumbled.

Swan checked her rifle, feeling a strange sense of fulfillment swell in her heart. These ponies might not be pegasi, but maybe they weren’t so different from her after all.

“Alright team, let’s move out,” Echo announced. Soon, they were trotting into the gloomy corridors, leaving Engineering behind. “I just hope my hunch is wrong.”

“Sounds like it’s coming from the main weapons chamber,” Nyx announced. “Let’s go!”

Flurry followed behind Nyx as the two stepped through the large ragged hole in the blast door. She only hoped they could get to the fight before somepony got hurt.

On the other side, they found themselves inside an abandoned security checkpoint. Shattered furniture and scanning equipment littered the small room, and smeared blood decorated the floor and walls. Still, there were no bodies, causing a shiver to run down Flurry’s spine. What had happened here?

Nyx’s holo-brace buzzed to life just then, and a stallion’s voice came through the comms, mixed with static.

“Bravo Lead to whoever just arrived on the tram. Stay away! Repeat, stay aw—”

The voice was cut off by a horrific scream of pain, followed by a wet gurgle. Flurry could actually hear the muffled cry coming through the walls, from the chamber beyond, while it sounded sharply from Nyx’s radio.

The gunfire had paused for a moment. A few distant voices of anguished disbelief filtered through, and then the sound of weapons fire resumed in earnest. It had a reverberating effect to it, almost like it was coming from a cave or an empty concert hall. Oddly, Flurry could hear no changeling weapons in the exchange. It all seemed very one-sided.

Her blood boiled with determination, she had to get in there. In a swift telekinetic blast, Flurry shoved the broken equipment away from the far wall of the security station, clearing the way to another door.

This one was round, with a seam down the middle where it would part when opened. The door was more like a bank vault than a standard blast door on a starship. Its face was jet black with golden runes engraved into its outer edge in a circular pattern. Guild tech.

“Shit,” Nyx muttered as she worked the security access panel. “I’m locked out.”

Having smashed through many a door in her lifetime, Flurry readied her formidable telekinetic strength to batter down yet another.

“Sorry about your ship, but we’ve gotta get through.” At that, the door groaned and protested loudly as its reinforced frame shuddered in her grip.

“No no, don’t do that!” Nyx urged. “If you break the mechanism, we’ll really be stuck. I have to run a bypass.”

Flurry watched impatiently as Nyx connected a thin cable from her holo-brace to the locking mechanism.

“Why do you have Guild tech on your ship?” she asked.

“Lots of top-secret stuff in there,” Nyx replied as she worked. “The mirrordrive and half the weapons in there are Unicorn Federation technology. The main cannon? U.F. prototype, custom-built for this ship. Almost nopony outside its design team even knows how it works.”

A million questions raced through Flurry’s mind about this ship and Nyx’s mission. The Federation didn’t work with anyone. What was Nyx really doing out here and why was she captaining a ship that, by all accounts, contradicted everything Flurry knew about the pony factions?

Another terrifying scream sounded from the chamber beyond. The gunfire was undisciplined and panicked, with continuous full-auto blasts. It was everything Flurry could do to not risk a blind teleport. Nyx needed to hurry.

The battle seemed to be moving towards the far end of the chamber as the sounds of weapons fire became even more muffled.

“Any day now,” Flurry complained.

“Got it!” Nyx shouted as the arcane mechanisms moved a whole lot of unseen pistons in unison, releasing the door’s locks. With a final hiss, the halves parted, revealing the large chamber of Forward Fire Control beyond.

Flurry bolted through, unfurled her large wings, and hurtled towards the sound of gunfire with Nyx right on her tail. The room was like an enormous stretched oval, nearly large enough to park the Dream in. It matched the shape she recognized from outside as the bow of the ship. Despite having no time to look around, she could tell the room was full of advanced technology the likes of which she had never seen before.

As Flurry sped forward, she rapidly closed on the far wall. The sounds of gunfire were now coming from an open door set into its far-right edge.

Another terrible scream erupted from within. It sounded not so much like fighting but like a pony being tortured.

The alicorns landed at a gallop. At this point, Flurry only heard the sound of one automatic weapon firing beyond the door. Still no sign of any changelings—not even a body. Something wasn’t right.

On the far side of the door, an armored figure spotted the alicorns approaching.

“Oh thank goodness!” a mare’s voice called out, practically hysterical. She ran blindly towards them, her armoured hooves pounding on the decking. It was no disciplined retreat; this pony was desperately running for her life.

From the looks of her body armour, she was definitely part of Bravo team, having been assigned to this area of the ship. She had abandoned her rifle, and her shoulder guns lay limp in their mounts.

Just before she reached the doorway, the open hatch slammed shut so hard the thick metal bent from the impact. They were cut off.

“No!” the mare cried out from behind the door, sobbing as her hooves pounded against it. “Open the door!”

“We’ll get you out, hold on!” Nyx shouted as she clenched the door in her telekinetic grasp. Instead of being ripped off, the door held and Nyx jerked her head back in surprise.

“What’s wrong?” Flurry asked.

The black alicorn frowned, spun around and gave the door a solid kick with both rear hooves. Still nothing. The metal buckled but held firm.

“Let me try,” Flurry offered quickly, just as a crash sounded from the room beyond.

“Please open the door!” the mare cried in terror. “Oh Celestia, it’s coming!”

Flurry put everything into her telekinetic strength. The door should have been wrenched right out of its frame, but now she knew what Nyx had reacted to. It was like pouring her energy into a void. Rather than connecting with the door, her power simply vanished without a trace.

“Hold on!” Nyx yelled. Both alicorns began beating on the door with their bare hooves, pushing, pulling, and kicking uselessly against the barrier. There was the sound of internal door mechanisms shattering, but it refused to yield even to their combined strength.

“I got a glimpse of the room,” Flurry said, backing up a couple steps. “I’m gonna teleport in.”

A golden flash came from Flurry’s horn as the space around her body compressed for a second before snapping back, leaving her where she stood.

“What the hell?”

Just then, the mare tried to cry out for help again, but her voice became a blood-chilling scream. The agonized cry was followed by the sounds of metal and flesh being torn. Her scream carried for a few terrible seconds before becoming a horrible gurgling. Then, there was silence.

Both Flurry and Nyx stood before the doorway, wide-eyed and stunned. Only their panting breaths broke the eerie quiet that descended over the room.

Flurry backed up to give the door another kick, but Nyx stopped her.

“She’s gone, Flurry,” Nyx said softly, her ears flattening.

“Damn it! We were right here!” Flurry hissed through clenched teeth. “Did you hear her, Nyx? She was terrified.”

“I know,” Nyx replied softly.

“What’s with this thing!” Flurry growled, slamming a hoof into the door.

“It wasn’t mechanical, that’s for sure. But what I felt shouldn’t be possible. You felt it too?”

“You mean like dumping power into a bottomless pit?” Flurry grumbled.

“Yeah, that. It felt like something was just… erasing our thaumatic energy. It goes against every law of arcane dynamics,” Nyx stated, the uneasiness in her voice adding to Flurry’s growing anxiety.

“What could resist two alicorns?” she asked, the implications of the answer making her shudder. “I didn’t see or hear anything. Where are all the changelings?”

“TEI wasn’t picking up anything either,” Nyx said, swallowing. “It’s like there wasn’t anything at all in here except Bravo team.”

“Well they were shooting at something,” Flurry said, fluffing her wings. “Something that scared the hell out of them and wiped them out.” She paused to summon her resolve. “Which means we gotta get in there and kill it.”

Nyx gave her a firm nod, and together, they focused their telekinetic power on the door. Flurry looked to her with a frown at how easily she was able to grip it now. Bolts popped and flew off before the entire frame crumpled with a screech of rending metal, finally giving up the door as it was tossed aside.

Without the door to support it, the armoured form of the unknown mare flopped to the ground before them as a thick stench of fresh blood assaulted their noses.

“Shit, look at that!” Flurry gasped, gazing down at the massive hole torn into the back of the mare’s armour.

The heavily reinforced spine of the suit had been ripped open from the neck down to the tail. It was like something had simply unzipped the armour, spreading it open to get at what was inside.

Of the mare, there was no sign, just splatters of blood and viscera clinging to the jagged edges of the armour. Her helmet’s visor was cracked, dripping crimson onto the decking beneath it.

Flurry had never seen anything like this, even in all her years. Even light armour such as this was still spell-hardened plating. It would take a heavy weapon to crack it, let alone simply tear it apart.

“What did this? Where is she?” Flurry asked, panic slipping into her voice as she stepped into the room.

Nyx said nothing, simply staring at the bloody mess in morbid astonishment.

Just then, something moved across the edge of Flurry’s vision. By the time she turned her head, she could only catch a glimpse of a large, leathery wing as it shifted out of sight behind some banks of equipment.

A thestral?!

She instantly lunged forward in pursuit, only to hit an invisible shield barrier. She turned to Nyx in frustration.

“What are you do—”

Nyx shushed her. “Could you just… not rush in without engaging your brain this time?” she urged.

“There’s a thestral, and a big one from the looks of it.”

“Flurry, think. No thestral could have done this.”

“Well, what do you think it is then?”

Flurry waited for an answer but then saw the look on her cousin’s face. She was frightened, and there were very few things in this galaxy that could frighten Nightmare Moon.

“Windigo,” she whispered.

Flurry’s blood ran cold. “No. No way. Nobody’s seen a windigo in person. You telling me you’ve seen one?”

“I haven’t, no. But some have. There’s not a lot of data—a few scattered accounts here and there. Most of what we know is from the Alcora.”

“The Alc— those fuckers can’t be trusted, you know that,” Flurry shot back, angrily. “Nyx, they killed your—”

“Don’t,” Nyx stopped her. “I can’t think about that right now. We have a situation we aren’t prepared for, and we can’t just rush in without a plan.”

“Fine. But the only thing anyone knows about them is their ships… as in, stay the hell away from them. What are we supposed to do now?”

“We get a better look. Come on.” Nyx stepped out into the open, making her way along the narrow room towards where the creature had gone.

“Nyx, wait.”

“It’s okay. It went back into the main chamber. Come on, I want to get a look at what we’re dealing with.”

Flurry was confused. “You better not be saying it can teleport. We had it pinned in here.”

“There’s another doorway on the far end. Leads back out.”

Flurry felt the urge to put her hoof to her face. “A second door. Where the hell are we, anyway?”

“This room is the primary focusing station for the main gun. Out there are workstations for just about every weapons system on the ship, as well as the mirrordrive. The only ponies even allowed in here are those specially trained in using the latest weapons hardware.”

“Hence the security room.”

“Yeah. Now come on.”

Nyx approached the doorway on the far port side of the ship’s bow, leading back into the massive Forward Fire Control chamber. There, she crept forward silently with Flurry right beside her.

Having time to take a better look at the chamber, Flurry realized just how big it was. It had to be six decks tall at the centre, sloping in all directions like a giant ellipsoid which had been stretched till it was three times as long as it was tall. The bottom level exposed multiple large, rounded shafts. These were the railgun barrels she had seen running below the tram station, extending all the way to the rear of the ship, nearly two kilocanters aft.

Huge power conduits ran along these barrels, flowing into the room beneath their hooves. Everything had that state-of-the-art polished look which was so typical of Unicorn Federation technology. And yet, the layout of the entire place was pegasus-friendly. Truly a Commonwealth design if she ever saw one—still clinging to the hope of tribal unity.

And then, she saw it. A large creature lurking at a workstation on one of the lower levels, across the gap from where the alicorns stood. It was facing away from them. The beast was roughly equine in form, quadrupedal with hooves. It had hairless bluish-grey skin and was very bony and gaunt looking. On its back were the large, leathery wings Flurry had noticed earlier.

Flurry’s instincts told her she needed to get out of here—right now.

“It does kinda look like a thestral,” Nyx whispered.

At this, the creature turned slightly and looked straight at them.

“Okay, maybe not.”

Flurry could feel Nyx tense up, ready to leap at any moment. The monster’s head was like a distorted skull of a mustang. It had two curved horns coming out of its forehead, and a faint greenish glow coming from a pair of eye sockets which trailed into further curved horns that wrapped around its head. Oddly, it had no mouth and was missing a lower jaw. A small tuft of wispy hair hung from the spot where its chin would be.

The creature and the alicorns stared at one another for a long moment before the thing simply turned back to what it was doing at the workstation, seemingly unconcerned about them.

“I guess we know how Bravo team survived until just now,” Nyx said.

“What do you mean?”

“Remember what Bravo Lead said on the radio? They heard our tram coming. I’m guessing they were pinned down in this room after losing one or two ponies to the thing earlier. One of them probably opened fire after hearing the tram, trying to make a break for it.”

“You telling me that thing is impervious to bullets?”

“I don’t know, I just work here,” Nyx replied. “Hardly anything is known about these things. Just…”

“What?”

“It’s just rumour, really. Maybe. Either way, this is gonna hurt.”

Flurry swallowed dryly. “Thanks for that comforting thought. Now are we gonna go kick its ass or what?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do.”