A bit o' this and a bit o' that; pieces of stories that never were or didn't belong.
As ye well know, nearly every sailor author comes up with more ideas than his head can hold or his quill can ink... but sometimes them little scraps o' storytellin' do make it down onto the page... a scene here, an introduction there; little snippets o' grander tales, cursed to forever sail a sea obscured by an unpublished fog...
These here be such stories; the scribbled scrimshaw of yers truly: MrAskAPirate!
Uh, cut! Cut please!
What? What's wrong?
Really? That's how you want to introduce this glorified scratchpad?
Okay, okay; I'll drop the accent.
And take off the eyepatch?
::sigh:: ... Fine.
Anyway, this is going to be a collection of the little bits and pieces that I've written and want to share with everypony, but don't quite qualify as anything that could be published on their own. In some cases it'll be a story I wrote the intro or a few scattered scenes for, but never completed. Sometimes they'll be little side-stories to my other works, or even the occasional 'deleted scene.'
As per normal for these types of collections, expect the characters, tags, and tone to vary widely. If you follow my writing you probably already know that I like to try out different things, so expect more of the same!
... I mean, more of things that are very different! From one another. Which is the same as my usual body of work. Of different things.
Despite being an outdoorsy kind of pony, Braeburn never really spent all that much time admiring the night sky. Yeah, he’d spent more than his fair share of nights out on the range, camping under the stars, but he was pretty sure he could count on one hoof the number of times he’d just sat down, looked up, and taken it all in. Now, lying on his back atop a blanket in the middle of Appleoosa’s expansive apple orchard, staring up into the heavens as the stars twinkled like diamonds and Luna’s moon cast its soothing glow over the Mild West landscape, he couldn’t for the life of him understand why not. He’d never felt so content.
Of course, that last part might’ve had something to do with the cute teal mare currently snuggled up against his side.
A dopey smile blossomed on the stallion’s face as he stole a glance at the young earth pony he’d met earlier that evening at Salt Lick Saloon. Her long auburn-red mane splayed across his shoulder, and one of her slender forelegs was draped across his barrel as she too took in the sights. As if on cue, she inhaled deeply and let out a dreamy sigh.
“You don’t see a sky like this in Fillydelphia. It’s so beautiful.”
“It sure is,” Braeburn agreed, his eyes never leaving her once.
She craned her neck to look at him with a knowing smirk. “Are we still talking about the stars?”
“Well sure we are!” Braeburn grinned right back. “Assumin’ of course that’s what folks back home call those pretty blue eyes of yours.”
A dainty giggle bubbled forth from the mare.
“The ponies in town were right,” she said as pushed herself up with one hoof so that she was straddling him with her forelegs, her mane tumbling forward to cover one side of her face as her visible eye fixed him with a half-lidded stare. “You are a charmer.”
Just as she leaned in closer, a thunderous, shrill roar blasted through air, so overpowering and so close that both ponies could feel the vibration in their bones. The mare leaped up with wide eyes as Braeburn rolled over and scrambled to his hooves with a fair sight less grace.
“W-what in Celestia’s name is that?”
“Don’t know!” Braeburn had to shout to be heard over the continuous howl as he glanced around. “Where’s it even comin’ from?!”
An explosion of earth and the sound of splintering wood from somewhere deep in the orchard to their right grabbed their attention, holding it hostage as the howling screech was replaced by a deep, low rumble.
A rumble that seemed to be getting closer.
“Run.”
“B-Braeburn, what is-”
“I don’t know! Just run!”
The mare didn’t need to be told again, turning together with Braeburn and galloping away into the orchard as the sound grew louder still. They ran for what felt like minutes, their breath becoming short and their legs burning for rest, but the rumbling never ceased. Braeburn felt his heart pounding against his ribs, seemingly trying to force its way out from his barrel with every hoofstep.
Still the sounds pursued them, and indeed seemed like they were closing the gap, for Braeburn could feel the very ground vibrating beneath his hooves as he spurred himself to gallop even faster.
“Braeburn!” the mare gasped from a few steps behind him, “slow down, I-I can’t...!”
“We’re almost out!” Braeburn shouted back. “Don’t you worry nothin’! Appleoosa’s just a little-”
He was cut off by a cry of surprise capped with a pained grunt. He dug in his hooves, sliding to a stop and turning to see that the mare had tripped over a tree root in the darkness, and was now lying more or less prostrate on the dusty ground some ten paces behind him. He started back for her immediately, but froze in his tracks.
“Braeburn,” the mare groaned, attempting to rise on unsteady legs, “what are-”
“Ssh!” Braeburn silenced her.
The mare looked up at him, confusion and hurt mingling in her eyes. “W-what? What is it?”
“Listen!” he whispered urgently.
The mare’s ears perked up, and it was only a moment before they once again fell flat, her eyes going wide along with them.
The orchard was unnaturally quiet. The sounds were gone.
“Braeburn, what’s going on?” she asked, her voice hushed and unsteady as her eyes flitted about. “Did… did it go away?”
“I don’t know, just… just stay calm, okay? Stay right where ya are,” Braeburn tried to reassure her, hoping that the dim light was enough to conceal how badly he himself was shaking. He didn’t fully understand it, but the seeping cold sensation deep in his gut was telling him that they were still very much in danger.
“I’m… I’m scared!” the mare pleaded. “Please, let’s just go, okay?”
“Hold on, hold on now!” Braeburn cautioned, but even as he spoke the mare took a step forward.
The ground seemed to erupt all around the mare, spraying dirt and rock into the air alongside her terrified scream.
Braeburn fell back, eyes focused before him in horror as the ground itself seemed to swell up and swallow the mare whole, her scream silenced as the mass vanished back into the earth as swiftly as it appeared. The rumbling subsided, the vibrations fading as the dust settled, leaving behind only a roughly circular hole in the ground.
Braeburn stood frozen, mouth agape, his gaze still transfixed on the spot where the mare had disappeared. After a long moment, he inched his way forward one hoofstep at a time. He swallowed hard, stretching his neck out to peer over the lip and down into the gaping maw of earth, where he beheld nothing but darkness.
His head and ears snapped up as the shrill roar from earlier sounded again, echoing through the trees. It was far more distant than before, but that did nothing to lessen the panic and chilling fear rising in Braeburn’s chest.
He turned and ran for Appleoosa as fast as his hooves could carry him. He ran as if the fate of Equestria itself depended on it… because for all he knew and all he’d just seen, it did.
Sunset shook her head in disbelief. "So you're saying that the three of you have been behind every major conflict in Western society for the past thousand years?"
"Pretty much," Adagio nodded.
"... I don't buy it," Sunset crossed her arms, drawing a smirk from Adagio.
"Try me."
Sunset pursed her lips, studying the siren. "Okay, fine. How about... the Medieval Crusades?"
"What, all nine of them? That was the first time we tried to take over the world... and the second... and the third... and... well, you get the idea." She rolled her eyes. "Ugh, but you can only put up with religious zealots for so long before you want strangle them yourself."
"All right... the Hundred Years War?"
"Oh, honey, you're talking to Roan of Arc," Adagio laughed. "How do you think one young girl managed to convince every single Prench nobleman on up to the Dauphin himself that she was receiving visions from God?"
She flourished her hands at her shoulders and sang a single, somewhat off-key note.
"Speaking of, thank God that Aria and Sonata were able to find a girl that resembled me and hypnotize her into taking my place in that Bittish prison... barbecued siren is not a food I want to try."
"Ugh, that's gross," Sunset frowned, but she was too determined to stop now. "Neighpoleonic wars."
"That one was going fine until Shorty McPompouspants decided to break the 'look; don't touch' rule."
"The Amareican Revolution."
"We were in Boston and Aria suddenly decided that tea was the worst thing ever. End of story," Adagio shrugged.
"Amareican Civil War?"
"Sonata felt bad for the slaves."
"World War II!" Sunset exclaimed, her patience wearing thin.
Adagio's grin fell away. She stared straight ahead, her eyes more or less locked with Sunset's own, but the former unicorn got the distinct impression that the siren wasn't seeing her at all. Sunset shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and a moment later Adagio shook her head briskly.
"I don't want to talk about it."
Sunset nodded and let it drop.
"I'm still having trouble wrapping my head around this... you're sitting here telling me that all the terrible things that humanity has done; all the hatred and fighting and grudges and... blood feuds were all because of you?"
"Well, no, not everything," Adagio admitted. "I'm sure there's at least one or two that we had nothing to do with."
"Like what?"
Adagio opened her mouth but hesitated, clapping it shut a moment later as she looked off to one side. Sunset's eyebrows rose and she could've sworn she could hear the gears grinding in the siren's head.
"... Yankees vs. Red Sox?" Adagio finally offered, scrunching her face up with uncertainty.
Sunset's head hit the table so hard that her coffee cup nearly rattled off its saucer.
The Last Caveman (from Celestia Uses An Online Dating Website)
"No, you've got it completely backwards; that leads back across the Thames."
"Ugh, only if you follow it all the way! We just need to go a couple of streets, then turn right, and we're there!"
Adagio rolled her eyes, a fact lost on her sisters since she was, as always, walking in the lead as the trio threaded through the bustling early-evening streets of Southwark.
"Turning right would take us back to London Bridge, Aria." She stepped around a carriage, being careful not to snag her billowing, orange-ruffled gown on it as it passed by. "We just need to find Maiden Lane, and we'll be set."
"We could see the stupid theatre from the bridge," Aria grumbled, pulling at the unflattering neckline of her emerald dress. "If we went back at least we could get a better idea of where we're going."
"I know where we're going," Adagio shot back, turning to look at her sister, "and before you call it 'stupid' again, remember that I was the one who received a personal invitation from the playwright; you're lucky I let the two of you tag..." She trailed off, eyes searching the busy street. "Where the hell is Sonata?"
Aria joined Adagio in surveying the area before offering a shrug. "Must've gotten lost... I mean, more lost then we already were."
"Come on, we've got to find her."
"Ugh, do we have to?" Aria frowned. "I was just starting to enjoy the peace and quiet."
Adagio ignored her, and despite her protests Aria still fell into step behind her older sister as they retraced their path. After about a hundred paces, they spotted the distinctive lavender folds of their youngest sister's gown. She was standing in front of a side street and peering down it intently as the others approached.
"Sonata!" Adagio scolded, snapping the girl in question from whatever dazed reverie she had been lost in this time. "What the hell are you doing?"
Sonata's eyes widened a little.
"It's that box again."
Adagio shook her head. "What are you talking about?"
Sonata pointed down the side street. "That big blue box we keep seeing everywhere."
Exchanging uncertain glances, Adagio and Aria moved to join Sonata. Sure enough, about thirty paces along the street stood a large, blue, rectangular box with paneled sides and a strange little lantern on top. Adagio regarded it for a moment before shaking her head.
"So? It's a box; what about it?"
This time it was Sonata's turn to roll her eyes. "Ugh, you guys! Don't you remember?" she whined. "We saw it in Prance that one time, and before that when we were in that Consonantopolis place?"
Aria scrunched up her face in confusion. "Where?"
"She means Constantinople," Adagio translated. "Sonata, what have a I told you about wandering off? Do you remember what happened the last time?"
Sonata pouted and fidgeted in place. "The Ottoman guys weren't that bad..."
Adagio blanched. "They tried to sell you into slavery, idiot! You probably would've ended up in some rich sultan's harem!"
"Well, yeah, but think of all the pretty clothes I would've gotten to wear!" Sonata grinned.
The eldest Siren stared at her blankly, while Aria scoffed and crossed her arms.
"Sonata... you're the worst."
"You are!" came the nearly automatic reply.
"We don't have time for this!" Adagio shouted as she turned. "Come on, we need to find the theatre before sunset. I'm not about to miss half of the first act on account of you two imbeciles!"
"B-but-!" Sonata stammered, pointing back down the alley to the blue box.
"No buts!" Adagio called out. Aria gave her a disapproving glare before she too walked away.
Sonata frowned, taking one last glance at the box that seemed to follow them everywhere before hanging her head and trudging after her sisters.
“Here you go,” Sunset said as she handed a steaming mug to Sonata, “might want to let it cool for a sec first.”
“Thanks, Sunny,” Sonata smiled back from her usual spot on the sirens’ couch. “Ooh, it’s even got the little marshmallows!” She brought the cup under her nose and savoring the rich scent of warm cocoa. “Mmm…” She took a tentative sip and jerked back, making a scrunchy face. “Augh! Too hot!”
“I told you,” Sunset chuckled and turned back towards the kitchen as Sonata took to fanning her tongue with one hand. “Just give it a minute or two and it should be fine.”
“Aww, but it smells soooo gooood…”
“Here,” Sunset walked back into the living room carrying a second steaming mug, “I made some for Aria too; why don’t you take it to her and by the time you get back I bet yours will be ready to drink.”
“Okaaaay,” Sonata whined as she wrapped the thick blanket she had been sitting with around her shoulders, “but I’m taking this with me!”
She levered herself off the couch, and Sunset winced a little when she saw how difficult the simple action turned out to be for the ailing siren. Sonata took the mug from her and padded softly off down the hallway towards Aria’s room, swaying a little with each step and with the blanket trailing behind her like some sort of snuggly cape. Sunset started to crack a tiny smile at the sight, but her eyes were drawn to the motion of Sonata’s increasingly grey and wispy ponytail as it swung gently back and forth. She felt a tightness rising from her chest into her throat.
It won’t be long now…
Sunset shook her head briefly and clapped herself on both cheeks before her thoughts strayed too far down that painfully familiar path. It was almost time for dinner, so she’d better get started.
There would be more than enough time for tears in the days to come.
Sonata approached Aria’s room as she always did: quietly and with great trepidation. She’d lost track of the number of times she’d been beaned in the face by pillows, slippers, balled-up socks, or whatever random knick-knacks Aria happened to have close at hand to defend her personal space from what she dubbed ‘close encounters of the worst kind’.
Something was different this time though. Aria’s door, normally shut tight and locked, was open just a crack, and from within Sonata’s ears picked up a sound she hadn’t heard for almost half a century.
The delicate notes of an acoustic guitar thrumming through the air were unmistakable, and a cautious peek revealed that Aria was indeed sitting on her bed with her old but lovingly-maintained instrument in her arms. Her back was to the door, but even so Sonata could picture how her sister’s slender fingers were gliding over the strings.
Her mind drifted back through the centuries of her long life, remembering all the evenings they had shared listening to Aria play. It was a skill she had never really picked up, and while Adagio had initially been jealous of Aria’s talent with the instrument, even she had eventually admitted to loving the sound of it all the same.
Sonata switched the mug of cocoa to her other hand and raised her free one to knock, when another sound issued forth, one that froze her in place instantly.
I’m just a poor, wayfaring stranger, traveling through this world of woe. There’s no sickness, no toil, or danger, in that sweet land to which I go.
Aria’s gentle voice hummed along with the guitar. It was still scratchy and a little off-key, but Sonata knew that Aria had been trying harder than any of them to re-learn how to use her voice after the loss of their amulets, and it showed. She gently pushed the door open a little further, being extra careful not to make any noise that might be disruptive as the song continued.
I’m goin’ there to see my sister, I’m goin’ there no more to roam. I’m just goin’ over Jordan, I’m just goin’... over home…
The final notes trailed off in a delicate strum, and Sonata found herself smiling weakly and sniffling. The sound alerted Aria to her presence, who leaped to her feet and spun around, her eyes and cheeks burning.
“Jesus, Sonata! Don’t you ever knock?!”
“Well I was gonna, but then… I forgot,” Sonata murmured, gripping the mug in both hands as she shuffled from foot to foot. “I was listening to your song, it… reminded me of some stuff.”
Aria stared at her for a moment, her expression softening. She tilted her chin at the mug. “What’s that?”
“Hot cocoa!” Sonata beamed, holding it out. “Sunny made some for us. She said dinner would be ready soon. You’re still welcome to eat with us if you want. Sunny always makes extra.”
Aria scoffed and sat back down on the bed. “No thanks.”
“Please, Aria?” Sonata pouted, inviting herself further into the room so she could face her sister again. “Why are you so mean to Sunny? She’s really, really sorry for what she did and she just wants to be our friend now.”
“She’ll never take Adagio’s place,” Aria muttered as she tuned and tested a string. Sonata actually laughed.
“Ha, really? If she’s trying to be Dagi she’s not doing a very good job. I mean when was the last time Dagi made us hot chocolate?”
“She’s not one of us!” Aria snapped, a harsh twang issuing forth from her guitar to emphasize her point. Sonata frowned and simply watched her sister continue to tune her guitar. After a moment Sonata set the mug down on the nearby dresser and shuffled over to join Aria on the bed, pulling her blanket-cape a little tighter. The purple siren gave a halfhearted grunt at her proximity, but did nothing to shoo her away.
“You changed up the lyrics, huh?”
Aria rolled her eyes. “Stupid humans never got them right in the first place.”
“I dunno,” Sonata said coyly as she began idly kicking her feet, “I seem to remember you telling Johnny that you really liked his version.”
“S-shut up,” Aria blushed. “I was drunk and he was hot. Anyway, as depressing as this version is, it seemed kinda appropriate for us now, y'know?" She shook her head with a wry grin. "Besides, I doubt anybody but me even remembers the original words at this point.”
Sonata stopped kicking. “I do.”
“Bullshit,” Aria laughed and scoffed, “You don’t even remember what you had for breakfast.”
“Ya-huh! Blueberry pancakes with one-hundred percent pure maple syrup, low-salt butter, a piece of toast--also with low-salt butter--and two glasses of orange juice.” She finished by sticking out her tongue.
“I’m surprised it wasn’t tacos.”
“Nope! That was lunch!”
“Whatever,” Aria kept on fiddling with the tuning pegs, “your voice probably sounds like crap anyway.”
“C’mon, just play the song already!” She pleaded, bouncing just enough to disturb Aria’s focus.
“Knock it off.”
“Pleeeeeeeease?”
“Alright, alright! Jeeze!” Aria relented, and Sonata beamed at her as she stopped bouncing and snuggled a little closer, much to Aria’s apparent displeasure. “You remember the second verse?”
Sonata nodded, and Aria’s skilled fingers danced over the frets once again.
We know our song will keep and hold us; We know the way is steep and rough. Beautiful seas lie just before us, but this world we’re in s’just not enough.
We’re goin’ back to see our homeland, we’ll not rest until we’re free. Our return will be oh-so grand, we’ll fine’ly be happy; we sisters three.
Aria played out the final notes of the melody as Sonata felt a single tear trace down her cheek. She leaned over and rested her head on her sister’s shoulder.
Seated at the desk in her ready room, Captain Sunset Shimmer’s shoulders heaved with a heavy sigh as her eyes skimmed over the latest after-action report from the Klingon front.
Four more starships lost in as many days… three in direct combat with enemy forces, and the last discovered adrift with all hands lost after disappearing on a routine patrol two weeks ago.
She tapped a key on her terminal to bring up the detailed report. Initial findings indicated that the derelict ship had not been attacked by the Klingons, but the investigation as to what did happen was still ongoing and currently inconclusive.
“Dammit.” She switched off the terminal a little more forcefully than she had intended to and leaned back in her padded chair, rubbing tired eyes with both hands. The galaxy was a dangerous stage, and risk was part of the life one chose when joining Starfleet. Every cadet who’d ever put on a uniform knew that… but it didn’t make the loss of life any easier to deal with.
In fact, as Sunset had spent the last three weeks discovering, being stuck on the sidelines made it ten times harder.
The situation along the Federation-Klingon border was worsening by the day. Not for the first time, Sunset considered striding out onto the bridge and ordering Rainbow Dash to lay in a course for the nearest contested system at maximum warp… but once again, the practical concerns of completing the Harmony’s shakedown cruise stayed her hand. She had already managed to negotiate Starfleet’s required minimum ninety-day tour down to a single month; pushing her luck beyond that would anger the brass just as surely as it could spell disaster for an untested ship.
No… that’s not why you’re hesitating… not really.
Sunset glanced around the ready room with a grimace, taking in the still-vibrant blue of the carpeted floor and the unblemished grey sheen of the tritanium walls. She took a deep breath, lungs filling with air that still carried the faint odor of plasma welding and that strange, sterile smell that permeated every new vessel constructed within the shipyards at Utopia Planitia. Truth be told, both ship and crew had performed admirably so far; beyond expectations, in fact, and Starfleet Command was unlikely to raise more than a token amount of resistance to the idea of putting another able ship on the front lines.
No, it wasn’t the ship, or the new members of the crew, or even Starfleet that kept her from jumping back into the fight, Sunset forced herself to admit. The real reason was--
A soft chime pricked up Sunset’s ears and pulled her from her thoughts.
“Come,” she said, swiveling in her chair and folding her hands on the desk as the doors slid open. In strode her new Chief of Security, a young Human officer with spiky blue hair by the name of Flash Sentry. He approached and met her eyes with a calm gaze as he held out a medium-sized PADD.
“The revised duty roster you requested, Captain.”
“Good timing,” Sunset accepted the PADD with a nod, “this should be the last major change we need to make before everyone starts settling in. Thank you, Lieutenant.” She began scrolling through the first few pages, only to glance back up when she realized that Flash was standing at full attention and making no move to leave. “Was there something else?”
He appeared to somehow tense up even more, his mouth opening as if to speak only to clamp closed again for several seconds. Sunset raised an eyebrow as one of her ears twitched.
“Permission to speak freely, Ma’am.”
“On this ship? Always,” she said with a warm grin, “but do me a favor and lay off the ‘Ma’am.’ Rank and regulations aside, I’d like to think I have a few good years left before I’ll be ready to hear people calling me that.”
“Understood, Ma--Captain.” He finally seemed to relax a little, shifting to stand at ease. “I know it’s been three weeks since we left spacedock, but I guess I’m still just… a little surprised to find myself here. Serving aboard the Harmony, I mean.”
“Why’s that?” Sunset tilted her head.
“Well,” Flash cleared his throat as he tensed up again. “I’ve noticed that the entire senior staff aside from myself is… uh…”
A knowing smirk wormed it’s way onto Sunset’s lips.
“Female?” She finished for him.
Flash blinked.
“Actually, I was going to say ‘Equestrian.’”
“... Oh.” Sunset frowned as she felt the lightly-furred, pony-like ears atop her head--one of the few visible differences between Human and Equestrian physiology--twitch involuntarily. “Is... that a problem?”
“No, Captain!” he blurted out. “Not at all, I just… I guess I’m not sure why you requested me instead of another Equestrian officer. It’s seems kinda weird to just buck the trend.”
Sunset’s eyes narrowed, her ears laying back.
“Was that supposed to be a joke, Lieutenant?”
She had never before seen someone’s face go so pale so fast.
“I-I am so sorry, Captain,” Flash stammered. “I didn’t mean… I mean, it wasn’t my intention to…” He trailed off, shoulders slumping. “I’m… just gonna shut up now.”
Sunset stared at him for another few seconds before she felt herself smile.
“Apology accepted. You don’t seem like the xenophobic type anyway.” Sunset set down the PADD and gestured for Flash to sit in one of the available chairs as she leaned back in her own, crossing one leg over the other. “To be honest, the fact that all my other officers are Equestrian is more or less coincidence. Rainbow Dash, Twilight Sparkle, and myself were all in the same class at the Academy, and we were all assigned to the Canterlot during the…” she hesitated with a grimace, searching for the right word, “the ‘incident’ at Vega colony. I assume you’re already familiar with it?"
“Of course; everyone’s heard the story,” Flash said, the exuberance in his voice making Sunset wince internally. “After Captain Easy Glider was killed, you took command of the training vessel and the other cadets, and together with only a handful of other Federation ships you managed to hold off a Borg invasion force long enough to evacuate more than two thousand colonists. It’s the stuff of legend, really.”
“I don’t know if I would go that far but, yes, that’s pretty much what happened,” Sunset admitted with a sigh. “Applejack was a colonist on Vega... after the evacuation she had no place left to go, but she’d demonstrated such an amazing technical aptitude that I asked Fleet Admiral Celestia to offer her a commission and allow her to stay on as my Chief Engineer. We didn’t have an official Chief Medical Officer until Fluttershy came on as part of the regular crew rotation, and she took to the role so naturally I decided to make it permanent.”
Flash nodded along with Sunset’s explanation. “And… what about Ensign Pie?”
Sunset let out a laugh, fully understanding Flash’s nervousness. Even mentioning the vibrant woman’s name was sometimes a prelude to her impending, overly-energetic arrival.
“Pinkie is… well, she’s Pinkie. Believe it or not, she actually approached me while we were still in Spacedock. She told me she thought I needed a…” Her face scrunched up in thought. “What did she call it… a ‘supply and morale’ officer, and that she’d be perfect for the job. She said not to worry and that she’d take care of all the details.” Sunset shrugged. “I just kind of nodded along with her at the time, but the next day sure enough, the transfer orders came down and she was officially part of the crew. I still don’t know how she pulled it off, but after all that it didn’t seem fair not to make a place for her.”
“That… does seem fitting for her. Somehow.” Flash admitted with a slow nod. “So then, what about me? I’m pretty sure we never met until the day I came on board. What made you choose me out of all the other potential officers?”
“Your record,” Sunset's answer came without hesitation. “You’ve had a fairly average career so far, but one item in particular caught my attention. During an outbreak of Dramian plague at the new Jouret IV colony, you disobeyed a direct order from Captain Spitfire to return to the ship.”
“That’s correct, Captain.” Flash admitted with a slight bow of his head. “It was going to be a two week round trip for the Wonderbolt to reach the nearest starbase to pick up additional medical supplies and personnel. Leaving the medical relief teams unguarded for that whole time just… didn’t sit right with me. Heh,” he half-laughed, rubbing the back of his head with one hand awkwardly. “Ended up spending a week in the brig when they finally got back.”
“For disobeying orders, of course... but the situation on Jouret IV was extremely volatile. You saved the lives of several aid workers over those two weeks, repeatedly putting yourself between them and a desperate, panicking populace,” Sunset said, “Not to mention that, unlike the Vulcan aid workers, you were in constant danger of contracting the disease yourself. Dramian plague is almost always fatal for humans.”
“We had a supply of hexacortaline suppression shots-”
“Which the report of one Nurse Redheart states you stopped taking after only four days.”
Flash’s expression fell as surely as his gaze did. “It was… it was hard being there and watching those colonists suffer knowing that I was using up some of the medicine that was supposed to be for them. A lot harder than I expected it to be.” He drew in a deep breath and raised his head, looking Sunset in the eye with stolid determination. “They needed it more than I did, and I was fully aware of the risks.”
“And that’s exactly my point,” Sunset said as she stood, reflexively tugging at the hem of her uniform’s shirt. She clasped her hands in the small of her back and walked casually to the room’s single, narrow window, looking past the faint outline of her own reflection in the pane of transparent aluminum and out to the starlines streaking through the inky blackness beyond.
“This ship isn’t quite like other starships, Lieutenant. The members of my crew aren’t just workers or soldiers to me. They’re my friends; my family… and over time, I’ve come to care for them all a great deal.” She gave a short laugh. “This goes against everything we learned at the Academy about maintaining emotional distance and the importance of the chain of command... but friendship and harmony are central concepts in Equestrian society with good reason. If there’s anything that the incident at Vega taught me it’s that a group of true friends who believe in and trust each other implicitly can accomplish things beyond what any normal crew would even consider possible.
“Recently, I… made a mistake. I let my pride and my temper get in the way of my judgement, and it nearly cost me everything. To paraphrase something Admiral Celestia is fond of saying, ships can be rebuilt, but courageous, steadfast friends are hard to come by.” Sunset shook her head slowly. “I used to think I understood what that meant and that I knew how to protect the people that mattered most to me, but… now I know that I can’t do it alone. I need help.”
Her last words hung heavily in the air for a long moment before Sunset turned to face him, her sea-green eyes filled with a smoldering resolve that matched well with her fiery hair.
“The role of Chief of Security exists to safeguard the ship and crew. To fill it, I need someone who will treat that responsibility with the utmost seriousness, and who is willing to do what’s right regardless of the personal consequences… even if that means sometimes disobeying my orders. I believe that someone is you, Flash Sentry.”
In that instant, Flash found that he could do little more than give his commanding officer an open-mouthed stare.
“I… wow,” he managed after several seconds. “No pressure, right?”
One side of Sunset’s mouth twisted up into a smile as the two of them shared a mutual chuckle. Flash rose from his seat, clicking the heels of his boots together smartly as he stood at attention.
“Thank you for having such faith in me, Captain. I’ll do everything I can to make sure it isn’t misplaced.”
“Sunset.”
Flash frowned and tilted his head slightly.
“When we’re on the bridge or otherwise on duty, ‘Captain’ will do,” Sunset explained, “but when we’re off duty and there isn’t anyone around to be impressed, just ‘Sunset’ will be fine.” She rolled her eyes with a begrudging smirk. “The rest of the senior staff already does it anyway. I’m used to it.”
“Understood,” he confirmed with a nod. “Does that mean I can look forward to you calling me Flash?”
“‘Look forward to?’” Sunset echoed, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow as Flash blanched.
“O-or Lieutenant; Lieutenant is fine. Or Chief. Or Mister Sentry. Or… why don’t you just call me whatever you’d like. Captain’s prerogative.”
Sunset regarded him for a moment longer before a lighthearted laugh bubbled up from within.
“I suppose I’ll do just that,” she said with a smile, followed by a curt nod, which Flash interpreted as his dismissal and began to take his leave. “Oh, Flash, one more thing…”
Flash stopped and turned just as the door hissed open.
“Yes, Ca- uh, Sunset?”
“You might want to keep an eye on Rarity.” Sunset’s mischievous grin said as much as her words. “She can be… a little forward sometimes.”
Flash instinctively turned to look out onto the bridge, toward the command stations, only for his baby-blue eyes to meet with the half-lidded cerulean gaze of the Harmony’s alabaster-skinned First Officer, her inviting smile strutting down the line between provocative and predatory with perfect confidence.
Suddenly looking like the proverbial deer in the headlights, Flash Sentry--with some difficulty--turned back to Sunset.
“N-noted.”
He gave her an awkward nod and took up a brisk pace back to his station, and Sunset caught a glimpse of Rarity tracking his every step just before her ready room door slid shut.
Shaking her head, Sunset allowed herself a laugh that came out half-mixed with a snort as she returned to her desk and computer terminal.
Everything was blank. A ringing white expanse that surrounded her on all sides; nothing and yet everything. Someone was calling her name. It was distant and distorted, but the urgency behind it told her she was needed. A thick, heavy odor set off warning bells in her mind, though she couldn’t immediately understand why.
She coughed; feeling the sensation more than hearing it, and the world suddenly faded into terrifying focus.
The smell was smoke, the alarms were not just in her mind, and she knew the voice that was calling her name.
“Sunset! Sunset, can you hear me?”
Sunset Shimmer’s eyes snapped open, and she found herself looking at the panicked face of Twilight Sparkle. A few strands of her science officer’s indigo hair had fallen loose from the bun she normally kept it in, but that and the dark smudges on her cheeks did nothing to hide the relieved smile that blossomed.
“Are you all right, Captain? Can you stand?” she asked as a shower of sparks from a ruptured EPS relay in the ceiling rained down on the bridge behind her.
Sunset nodded and swallowed hard as Twilight helped pull her to her feet, only for them both to stumble as another telltale explosion rocked the ship.
“Damage report,” Sunset called out as she shook the last of the haze from her mind.
“We’re still reeling from the volley that hit us before we got the shields up,” Flash’s voice cut through the alarm klaxons from the tactical station near the rear of the bridge, “Main power is offline; auxiliary and emergency systems are holding for now. Shields are at twenty-eight percent.”
“Casualties reported on decks one, four, and five through nine,” Twilight’s voice took over as she resumed her station at ops. “Medical teams are already en route.”
Her words were proven true even as she spoke them, the turbolift doors sliding open to allow Fluttershy and two of her medics to rush onto the bridge amid another jarring impact.
Sunset spared them a quick glance, about to protest that she was unhurt, only for her ears to lay back when she noticed Rarity slumped and unmoving in her chair a few feet away. A thin red streak from hairline to jaw contrasted harshly with her first officer’s porcelain skin. Despite having taken the brunt of the exploding panel that had knocked both of them from their command stations, the labored rise and fall of Rarity’s chest at least proved she was still alive.
As Fluttershy knelt and began scanning Rarity with her tricorder, Sunset pulled her eyes away from the scene with an angry grimace and sat down hard in her chair.
“Talk to me, Rainbow!”
“Two Hegh’ta class birds of prey; they hit us right when we dropped out of warp,” Rainbow Dash’s tense voice echoed back from the helm. “Bastards must’ve been using the magnetic interference from the asteroid belt to hide from our long-range sen-” She was cut off as another burst of disruptor fire shook the hull.
“They were waiting for us,” Flash gave voice to the words that everyone else was already thinking. “The distress call from that Bolian freighter was a fake.”
“Or they attacked a freighter knowing it would try to call for help,” Sunset added. “Bridge to Engineering: we need main power and warp drive back online now.”
“I hear ya, Cap’n,” Applejack’s distinctive drawl arrived over the comm, “an’ I’d love to give you some good news, but they hit our starboard pylon somethin’ fierce. The EPS conduit’s ruptured an’ we’re leakin’ plasma; we’re talkin’ thirty minutes at least!”
“You’ve got five,” Sunset answered back as the Klingon’s resumed fire, nearly throwing her from her chair again. “Rainbow, make for that asteroid belt to give us come cover; Flash, return fire!”
“They’re pursuing,” Rainbow said as she made the required course adjustments.
“On screen.”
The viewport switched to rear-view mode, showing both Klingon ships making hard angled turns to bring their weapons to bear on their Federation prey. A hot red-orange beam of phaser energy lanced out, illuminating the led ship’s shields in a dazzling green glow, but nothing more.
Flash shook his head.
“Their shields are holding. Emergency weapon batteries aren’t going to be eno-!”
Another burst of disruptor fire tore into them, rocking the ship violently. A console interface near Flash overloaded and blew, showering him with sparks and shards of glass, but the young man held up an arm to shield his face and stubbornly held his ground.
“Ugh, that last hit fused the primary phaser coil! Shields at sixteen percent!”
“We’ve lost the port impulse engine!” Rainbow called back as she fought to maintain control. “Rerouting power to compensate!”
“No!” Sunset called out suddenly. “Let her drift, Rainbow!”
“What?” Rainbow and Flash both asked at once, the former twisting around in her seat to meet her captain’s fiery gaze.
“Let her drift,” Sunset repeated, “try to make it look like we’ve lost helm control, but be ready to bring us about and put that lead bird of prey within a ninety degree arc of our bow.”
Rainbow stared at her in confusion. She started to shake her head but hesitated, a sly grin forming on her face.
“Aye, Captain!”
She spun back around, tapping out commands on her display that sent the Harmony into a slow, listing spin as Sunset stepped away from command and over to ops.
“Twilight, I want you to start building up a positron charge in the secondary deflector; as big and as fast as you can. Reroute auxiliary power and anything else you need except for essential systems and torpedo fire control. We’re close enough to those asteroids that the Klingons shouldn’t be able to detect the buildup through the interference.”
“A charged particle burst to disable their shields,” Twilight stated as much as asked, her slender fingers already dancing across the appropriate LCARS keys as Sunset turned to face Flash.
“Once Twilight’s ready, I want you to be ready to drop shields just after the next disruptor hit.”
“I can overload an EPS relay in the cargo bay on deck eight at the same time;” Flash added, “make it look convincing.”
“Do it,” Sunset nodded.
“It won’t take them long to reset their emitters,” Twilight said. “We’ll have a window of no more than a few seconds… and they’ll need to be close. Five kilometers at most.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that; those KIingons will be so close you’ll be able to smell the gagh on their breath,” Sunset replied.
“Good thing Rarity isn’t awake to hear you say that,” Rainbow Dash quipped, her own nose crinkling at the notion.
A smirk played across Sunset’s lips. “Sunset to Pinkie.”
“What’s happenin’, Cap’n?” Ensign Pie’s energetic voice came back. “You know, aside from the ship rocking harder than one of my sister Maud’s planetary geology surveys.”
Sunset’s smile broadened.
“You know that shipboard concert you keep asking me to approve?”
“Fire!”
Twin bolts of green disruptor energy shot out toward the spiraling federation vessel, slamming into the shields with a spectacular glow.
“Their shields are down!” a burly Nausicaan growled.
The Klingon captain let out a deep laugh through his toothy smile.
“Arm torpedoes!” he barked, pointing to the bald-headed Orion manning tactical. “Blow them out of the stars!”
“Captain!” a reptilian Gorn hissed from the other side of the bridge. “We are picking up some sort of transmission from the Federation ship.”
“Oh?” the captain raised an eyebrow. “Have they decided to beg for mercy?” He laughed heartily and was joined by most of his crew, for they knew there would be no mercy this day.
“I am not certain,” the Gorn said. “The signal is too weak. We have likely damaged their communications array.”
“Bring us closer then,” the Klingon continued to laugh. “Let us take a few moments to revel in the mewling of these pujwl’ before we snuff them out.”
The helmsman--another Klingon--complied, and the Starfleet vessel grew steadily larger in their viewport.
“I... have locked onto the signal,” the Gorn said slowly.
“... And?” the captain prompted him.
“It is… unusual.”
“On speakers!”
The Gorn complied, and the Klingon bridge was suddenly filled with the sound of… someone singing?
'Cause I love to see you beam, beam, beam, Yes I do! Tell me what more can I say To make you see That I do! It makes me happy when you beam, beam, beam; Yes it always makes my day!
The various members of the bridge crew glanced at one another in confusion as the offensively sweet song continued, the solitary singer now joined by a chorus of others
Come on every pony smile, smile, smile! Fill my heart up with sunshine, sunshine! All I really need's a smile, smile, smile, From these happy friends of mine!
“What is the meaning of this?!” the enraged captain growled. “Do these Federation petaQ mock me even in defeat?”
“Nope!” the voice of the original soloist spoke through the transmission, “we just really needed you and your ship to come a teensy little bit closer so we could give you a super-special present! SURPRISE!!”
Before anyone on the bridge could react, the Starfleet vessel righted itself, pointing dead at the approaching bird of prey, and a bright blue pulse erupted from its deflector dish. The Klingon captain braced himself, but the wave of energy seemingly failed to do any damage as it washed over his ship.
“Captain!” the Orion shouted, “Our shields! They are-!” He stopped mid-sentence. The entire Klingon bridge crew watched in horror as two sparkling red points of light leaped from the torpedo launchers of the Federation vessel, speeding towards them with unerring accuracy.
The Klingon captain stood as the projectiles tracked directly toward the viewscreen. A slow smile creeped onto his features as he nodded appreciatively.
“majQa’,” he said under his breath. “Well played, Starfleet…”
“Direct hit,” Flash announced, though the fireball blossoming on the viewscreen made his words almost unnecessary. “The lead ship has been destroyed.”
“Hay yeah!” Rainbow whooped “That’ll teach you jerks to mess with-!”
Another explosion silenced her as the second bird of prey swung around the cloud of debris left by its former wingman and raked Harmony’s hull with more disruptor fire.
“We’re not out of this yet, but at least we’ve evened the odds.” Sunset said over the sounds of the barrage. “Shields back up!”
Flash tapped the proper key and was met with an unsatisfying buzz. He quickly tapped out the sequence again and the sound repeated. His face went white.
“Shields aren’t responding!”
“Please tell me you didn’t actually blow out the shields when you pretended to blow out the shields,” Rainbow’s flat accusation drifted back from helm control.
“No!” Flash said defensively as he attempted to bypass the system failure. “It’s-”
“Not important right now!” Sunset cut short their bickering. “Take us into the asteroid field Rainbow; keep as much rock between us and them as you can.”
“We won’t be able to stay hidden for long with only one engine,” Rainbow said as she complied.
“Understood.” Sunset turned to ops. “How long until we can emit another particle burst?”
“Deflector control circuits have overloaded,” Twilight shook her head. “That was our only shot, but I doubt they’d make the same mistake their sister ship did anyway.”
Sunset grimaced.
“Applejack, warp engines would be very useful right now.”
“Three minutes, Cap’n!” The former farmer answered via comm, her voice straining over the unsubtle sound of a plasma welder.
“Not good enough!” Sunset shouted back, but she received nor expected to receive a reply. She let out a huff. “Recommendations.”
Her answer was silence, the sight of drooping ears, and a worried exchange of glances among her bridge crew.
“Dammit,” she whispered, staring at the viewscreen as the bird of prey attempted to maneuver around a cluster of asteroids for a clear shot before the Harmony dipped down, obscuring the Klingon ship with another large rocky fragment.
Almost ten uncomfortably long seconds slipped passed without a word before Sunset sighed again, her eyes drawn to the dedication plaque affixed to the bulkhead near the ready room door.
“Harmony... we barely knew you,” her solemn, quiet words laced the air with ice. “All hands, this is the captain. Prepare to aban-”
“Captain!” Twilight cut her off. “Reading a massive neutrino surge, bearing two-five-one mark six-seven. I think it’s… yes, another ship is decloaking!”
“More Klingons,” Rainbow surmised, “Just what we needed.”
“This doesn’t read like any Klingon ship I’ve ever seen,” Flash shook his head.
“On screen,” Sunset commanded as she stood and took a few steps forward.
The image widened to show both the bird of prey that pursued them and a large area of space just above the asteroid belt that shimmered and danced with the telltale ripples that preceded a cloaked ship.
So large, in fact, that Sunset had just started to wonder if an entire battlegroup was decloaking when the concealment effect fell away in full, revealing a streamlined, black-hulled ship that dwarfed nearly every vessel Sunset had ever seen. She quickly found that the coloration made it difficult to grasp the shape and sheer size of the vessel even though she was staring right at it.
“Sweet Celestia…” Twilight breathed, while a weak ‘whoa’ was all that Rainbow could manage.
The bridge darkened suddenly, and Sunset found herself swallowing on reflex when she realized it was because the sleek, titanic ship was literally eclipsing the nearby star, casting a menacing shadow over the asteroid belt and both ships currently maneuvering through it.
“Analysis; anything you’ve got,” she called out, snapping Twilight from her stunned state.
“Uh… n-nothing matching vessel’s configuration in our database. No ID signal or identifying marks,” she relayed, sounding oddly confused. “The hull appears to be some kind of neutronium alloy, but sensors can’t penetrate it.”
“It’s not answering hails,” Flash shook his head. “Should we-” he was cut off by a rapid beeping from his station. “They’re charging weapons!”
“Evasive maneuvers!” Sunset called to Rainbow, who was already prepared to throw the ship into an evasive roll.
“They’re targeting the Klingons!” Twilight’s voice rang out, staying Rainbow’s hand.
The bridge crew watched in stunned silence as the giant ship opened fire; dozens of turrets spraying bolt after bolt of vibrant blue energy into the asteroid field to Harmony’s stern, kicking up clouds of rocky dust in the process.
The bird of prey, a class of ship known for its maneuverability, managed to weave through the opening salvo, but it was a case of too little, too late. An energy bolt tore through both the shields and port wing like tissue paper. The impact sent the craft into a spin as three more blasts ripped into the primary hull. A final shot obliterated the long ‘neck’ that connected the bridge to the rest of the ship an instant before the entire vessel was engulfed in the telltale anti-matter explosion of a warp core breach, leaving only twisted tritanium and vaporized dust in it’s wake.
The barrage ended almost immediately, leaving an unnerving calm to settle of the bridge of the Harmony.
“So… they’re on our side?” Rainbow asked.
The unknown ship turned suddenly, far faster than its massive bulk would imply was possible, and headed directly for them.
“Oh, you just had to ask, didn’t you?” Flash said, but Rainbow barely heard him, already keying in commands to dive the Harmony deeper into the asteroid field.
“Wait,” Sunset and Twilight called out together, drawing everyone’s attention back to the viewscreen.
The immense ship shimmered as it passed above them, fading from existence as it re-engaged its cloaking device, and was gone.
Sunset took a deep breath before collapsing back into her command chair.
“Stand down from red alert,” she said, the alarm klaxons going silent at her command. “Twilight, keep an eye on the sensors in case they decide to come back for us... and for any other surprises today might be planning to throw in our faces. I want casualty and status reports from all decks and all section heads.” She glanced to her right, noticing for the first time the Fluttershy and her medical team were gone, presumably having taken Rarity with them to sickbay. “Route all reports directly to me for the time being.”
“Who they hay were those guys?” Rainbow asked the obvious question on everyone’s mind as she guided the ship clear of the asteroid belt. “The hull design kinda looked Reman, didn’t it?”
“Those turrets were firing some kind of phased tetryon charges,” Flash shook his head. “I’ve never heard of any species using that kind of weaponry except the Hirogen.”
“And the Hirogen certainly wouldn’t have just left after dispatching the Klingons,” Twilight added, gaze never leaving her console. “They view collecting ‘trophies’ from their hunts as one of the most important-” She stopped, eyes narrowing as she tapped out another command. “Captain, we’re receiving a low-band transmission. Text only.”
“Source?”
“Unknown,” Twilight shook her head. “It looks like a set of coordinates.” She tapped a few keys and forwarded the data to the terminal on the arm of Sunset’s chair.
“That’s less than a light year from here,” Sunset estimated as she viewed the message through narrowed eyes.
Twilight nodded. “Star charts place nothing at that location; it’s just an empty point in interstellar space.”
“A low-power signal like that has very short range,” Flash added. “Unless there are more cloaked vessels nearby, it has to be from the unidentified ship.”
“So our mysterious ‘friends’ are inviting us over for dinner?” Rainbow scoffed. “Whoever they are, they really suck at baiting a trap.”
“If they’d wanted to destroy or capture us they could’ve done it right here,” Flash countered. “Setting up a trap now doesn’t make much sense.”
“Uh, duh,” Rainbow shot right back as she turned in her seat. “That’s exactly what someone setting up a trap would want you to think. They lull you into a false sense of security, then lure you and your ship into the waiting maw of some giant, ancient, forgotten cosmozoan monstrosity that gains strength by consuming the life force of sentient beings, and is nearly ready to awaken and cut a swathe of destruction across the galaxy as it consumes entire worlds to feed its ravenous, unending hun-”
Rainbow stopped as she realized that the rest of the bridge’s occupants, including a two-man repair team that had shown up sometime during her rant, were now staring at her silently.
“What?” she asked defensively.
“You’ve been running too many Daring Do holonovels,” Twilight deadpanned.
“Yeah! ‘Cause they’re awesome!” Dash answered back with a grin, leading both Flash and Twilight to roll their eyes.
“Applejack to bridge.”
“Go ahead,” Sunset called out.
“Warp power’s back online, fer now. Wouldn’t push her any faster’n warp four though, least not until we can spare a few hours to replace half a dozen sections of conduit and run an integrity diagnostic on the whole dang system.”
“Acknowledged,” Sunset stood and headed for her ready room. “Rainbow, set a course for those coordinates; warp four.”
Rainbow sat up straight, her ears following suit and her feathery wings ruffling slightly.
“Wait, really?” She blinked. “We’re just gonna go? Even knowing it’s a trap?”
“We don’t ‘know’ it’s a trap,” Flash had to fight to keep the irritated edge out of his voice, “but, I have to agree with Rainbow on this one, Captain. Flying in there blind in a ship in need of serious repair isn’t…” He hesitated. “It doesn’t seem like the best idea.”
“You’re right, it’s not,” Sunset turned on her heel to face them. “In fact, it’s a pretty terrible idea… but an unknown ship with technology and firepower that outclasses anything Starfleet or the Klingons have right now just took our side in a fight, and now there’s a chance they want to talk to us. Even if they aren’t looking to be our allies, we need to know who they are and what they want, and the sooner the better.”
She took in the understanding nods from her crew with a sigh as she turned and let the doors close behind her.
“We’ve also finished replacing the primary phaser coil and rerouted weapon power through the secondary EPS manifold,” Twilight finished as he turned the PADD over to Sunset. “We’ll still need to repair all the burnt-out relays when we have a chance, but for now all combat systems are up and running.”
“Not bad for only seven hours of in-flight repair time,” Sunset said with a smile. “Remind me to tell Flash he might’ve missed his calling as an engineer.”
Twilight smirked. “He’s just trying to keep up with Applejack. She had the shields back online and deflector control operational in less than two hours.” She shook her head in amazement. “Of all the things she took away from her brief time as a Borg drone, her efficiency and work ethic are truly remarkable.”
Sunset tilted her head. “I dunno; I get the impression she taught the Borg a thing or two about hard work, to be honest.”
The two women shared a short laugh, and Twilight took advantage of the lighter atmosphere to slip into one of the chairs facing Sunset’s desk.
“So… do you want to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” Sunset asked right back on the tail end of her chuckle.
“Sunset,” Twilight warned.
It only took a few moments of her science officer’s disapproving glare to break Sunset’s forced smile into benign frown as her ears drooped to the sides of her head.
“It hasn’t even been four months,” she began solemnly. “Four months later and I came within a hair’s breadth of losing another ship. Some captains have commanded the same ship for over a decade, and I almost lose two in four months!” She shook her head in disbelief. “How can I be so spectacularly bad at this?”
“You’re not,” Twilight answered. “Sunset, at the Vega colony you-”
“Vega was a fluke, and you know it,” Sunset cut her off, standing so she could pace back and forth. “You were there, Twilight; you know better than almost anyone how completely screwed we were. We still don’t know exactly what happened to the Borg invasion fleet in orbit, but it had nothing to with me or anyone else on the Canterlot.” She grimaced. “We got lucky, and as arrogant and full of myself as I was, I actually fooled myself into believing otherwise. I let everyone shower me with praise that I didn’t deserve. I let it go to my head, and now here I am in charge of the lives of almost a hundred and fifty people, just one slip up away from getting them and you and all of our friends killed.”
Sunset continued to pace for a moment before coming to a stop in front of the ready room’s window.
“I just… I don’t think I’m as ready for command as I thought I was.”
Twilight regarded her captain and friend for a moment longer, her gaze intent but patient.
“Are you done?” Her voice was flat and sardonic, and she didn’t wait even a moment for Sunset to reply. “Good. There are a dozen reasons why you’re wrong, but we don’t have all day so I’m only going to focus on two. The first is that you seem to be forgetting that Fleet Admiral Celestia herself was the one who advocated for your field promotion. Do you really think someone who has been a part of Starfleet since the earliest days of the Federation would put someone in command of a starship if she thought for an instant that that person couldn’t handle it?
“Secondly,” Twilight kept right on going, stepping over Sunset’s protests before she had even opened her mouth, “Vega was a completely hopeless situation. When that Transwarp conduit appeared and the first wave of Borg ships came pouring out, you know what my first thought was?”
Sunset remained silent, choosing only to shake her head.
“Nothing,” Twilight said with a tiny, awkward laugh. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but watching that lead cube bearing down on us, I... I froze. I was terrified and confused; I almost didn’t even believe what I was seeing.” Twilight shook her head as Sunset turned around to face her as she listened. “Then the first wave of plasma torpedoes hit us. Captain Easy Glider went down, and… and I honestly thought that was it. I thought I was going to die that day, or worse, end up assimilated. I was ready to give up.
“But you didn’t,” Twilight said, her grim expression lifting as she likewise lifted her gaze to meet Sunset’s. “You did exactly what we were trained to do, without hesitation. You saw what needed to be done and took command of a ship full of untested, uncertain cadets. You held us together when we were ready to fall apart. You gave us direction and focus, and most importantly, you made us believe that we would not only survive, but that we could make a difference. We saved the lives of over two thousand people, Sunset, and you were the one who made it possible.” She smiled warmly. “Not bad for your first day on the job.”
Sunset allowed herself a sad smile.
“How long have you been practicing that speech?”
“Since the day Celestia gave you command of the Canterlot,” Twilight replied without hesitation, though she added a wince at the end. “I’m kinda surprised I got through it without my notecards. Was it too clichéd? Too overdramatic?”
Sunset laughed and shook her head.
“It was perfect as always, Twilight... thank you.”
Twilight smiled, but before either of them could say anything more, a soft chime rang through the office.
“Rarity to Sunset,” a smooth voice slid through the comm system, “Your presence is requested on the bridge; we are approaching the designated coordinates.”
“Acknowledged; I’m on my way.” Sunset nodded to Twilight and the two of them made the short walk out onto the bridge. She met Rarity’s gaze as the violet-haired woman rose from the captain’s chair, making it available for its rightful occupant. “Glad to see you back on your feet, Rarity. How are you feeling?”
“Nothing a little trip to the spa won’t fix, darling,” Rarity smiled as she sat at command station to Sunset’s right. “I’m dreadfully sorry for not returning to duty sooner; Fluttershy absolutely insisted that I stay in sickbay where she could keep an eye on me, and you know how she gets sometimes when it comes to proper medical care.”
Sunset agreed with a nod and took her seat.
“What’s our ETA?”
“We’re about a minute out,” Rainbow said. “You’re not gonna believe this, but there’s a whole star system here.”
Sunset’s brow furrowed.
“I thought these coordinates were in the middle of nowhere?”
“They are!” Rainbow insisted. “I mean, there’s nothing on any of our charts, but-” she punched in a series of commands and brought up the unmistakable visual of a nearby star. “Boom. Have a solar system.”
“Stellar Cartography confirms there is no known system at these coordinates,” Twilight added, “but I’m showing a main sequence G-type star with eleven planets.”
“But how is that possible?” Flash asked. “We’re in the middle of the Beta quadrant; not some unexplored fringe of known space. How could a system this big go uncharted for centuries?”
“Perhaps it was intentional,” Rarity chimed in, drawing the rest of the bridge crew’s attention. “Well consider what we know: the ship that rescued us sent us here. Whoever they are, they’re obviously aware that this system exists. Perhaps they’re a xenophobic species that took steps to conceal their existence.”
“You think they somehow hid an entire star system?” Rainbow arched an eyebrow. “For, like, the three or four hundred years that over a dozen species have been traveling through this area of space?”
“Possibly longer,” Rarity nodded. “It’s not as though it would be without precedent. The Aldeans hid their planet for thousands of years until they had a need to contact the outside world.”
“Are any of the planets in this system inhabited?” Sunset asked, but Twilight was already shaking her head.
“Three small class Y planetoids close to the star, and one slightly larger N-class. The rest are a mix of gas giants and assorted small moons. No indigenous... life.”
“Twilight?” Sunset asked, having picked up her science officer’s hesitation. “What do you see?”
“I’m… not sure,” she replied slowly. “The scan data we’re collecting on one of the moons orbiting the largest gas giant just seems… familiar. I’ve seen this before...” She tapped a few more keys, her eyes widening. “Sunset, this is… this is Equestria’s moon!”
“What?” Sunset frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Uh, last I checked Equestria wasn’t missing its moon,” Rainbow Dash snerked. “Pretty sure someone woulda noticed.”
“No, no,” Twilight waved Rainbow’s response off, “I mean… the overall size and surface features don’t match, but some of the data--the density, the internal composition, the geologic instability ratings--they’re identical to what we have on file for Equestria’s moon.” She looked up and met her captain’s gaze. “Something’s not right.”
“Agreed,” Sunset said with a nod. “Helm, drop out of warp and take us in. Standard orbit around the moon in question.”
“Aye, Captain.”
“Yellow alert,” Sunset added, screens all over the bridge popping up with the increased readiness status as Flash keyed in the proper command. “Let’s see if we can avoid any more surprises.”
“Doubt it,” Rainbow mumbled under her breath.
A few moments later, the Harmony glided into a graceful, slow curve above a large grey planetary body.
“Full scan,” Sunset ordered, “and full report on any anomalous readings. If there’s so much as a rock that looks like it doesn’t belong, I want it documented.”
A faint beeping emerged from Twilight console.
“Captain, we’re receiving another text-only message; same carrier wave as before. This one looks like it’s… transporter coordinates.” She narrowed her eyes at the readout. “They’re for a location inside the moon.”
“Focus scan on that location,” Rarity said, tapping a few controls on her own display. “Some kind of subterranean structure? Any residual radiation that might indicate a concealed power source?”
“I’m reading nothing but solid, low-density rock,” Twilight shook her head. “If there’s a facility here, then whatever is concealing it goes way beyond basic cloaking technology.”
Sunset stared at the moon through the viewscreen, taking a deep breath before standing and striding to the aft turbolift doors.
“Rarity, you have the bridge. Twilight, Flash; with me.”
“You’re going down there?” Rarity’s ears perked up as she stood.
“Cryptic as they are, I don’t think our new friends would bother bringing us all the way here just to have us beam to our deaths,” Sunset called back over her shoulder as Flash and Twilight moved to join her in the turbolift. She turned and locked eyes with Rarity. “Maintain position for now, we’ll keep in contact. Deck six.”
Rarity opened her mouth to protest, but the turbolift doors whisked shut at Sunset’s last command, leaving the pale-skinned woman to sigh and place one hand on her hip.
A small, dark cavern deep beneath the surface of the strange moon was suddenly filled with a bright, blue-white glow as three transporter beams deposited Sunset and her away team within it. The light faded, and Twilight immediately slipped her tricorder from the holster on her belt. Flash would have done the same with the phaser strapped to his hip had Sunset not stopped him with an outstretched hand.
“Let’s not shoot the people who saved our lives, okay?” Sunset chided him. “At least not until we know what they want from us.”
Flash nodded, turning to take stock of the cavern, though a cursory glance told them it was less a ‘cavern’ and more of a tunnel.
“Whatever shields this place is limiting my tricorder’s range,” Twilight said. “The walls and floors have signs of being worked by phaser drills, or something similar. This obviously isn’t a natural cave system, and it looks like it’s seen recent use.”
“I figure the lights are a good indicator of that too,” Flash added.
Twilight looked up from her tricorder, for the first time noticing the glowing nodes mounted along the walls every ten meters that provided more than enough light to see by. Various cables and conduits--some appearing quite worn, while others looked to have been recently installed or repaired--ran the length of the corridor’s ceiling and walls as well.
“Oh,” Twilight said. “Right.”
Sunset did her best to hide a grin as she started down the tunnel.
“C’mon, it looks like there’s a side passage ahead.”
The three made their way to the side passage, following it a short distance until coming to a large metallic door with an electronic keypad set into the wall nearby. Sunset pressed the central button on the keypad, and as the door slid aside, she heard the surprised gasps of her friends as her own eyes widened.
Before them lay a docking bay of staggering size. Dozens of support hangars, ranging from those for shuttlecraft and small fighters on up to some big enough to accommodate the largest Federation starships--indeed, she recognized that more than a few of the occupied bays held the distinct shapes of Starfleet vessels--and beyond. In the middle sat one bay larger than all the others, and within it hovered the unmistakable black hull of the ship that had come to their rescue. The large, curved wall to their right featured several sets of reinforced doors, many wider and taller than the ones on Earth’s own orbital spacedock.
“This is… this is incredible!” Twilight said as the three walked slowly out onto the wide platform before them, coming to stop at it’s railed edge. “It looks like almost the entire interior of the moon has been hollowed out and… and turned into a shipyard!”
Sunset agreed with Twilight’s assessment, nodding as she noted the dozens or perhaps hundreds of repair crews that appeared to be naught but ants, scurrying and crawling over damaged hulls as the bright glow and showering sparks of plasma welders did their work. Smaller transport pods weaved through any available space, transporting more crews or supplies between what Sunset could only guess was a fleet of no less than fifty ships.
“How could we not have detected all this from orbit?” Flash shook his head in disbelief. “What kind of technology could have kept an entire shipyard hidden from the sensors of a cutting-edge science vessel like the Harmony?”
“None but the very finest, Lieutenant Sentry.”
Sunset, Twilight, and Flash whipped around at the icy-smooth voice, following it up to its apparent source: a tall, imposing woman standing on a catwalk some twenty meters above them. She wore a sharp-cut, midnight blue uniform, and looked down upon the three of them with piercing teal gaze that radiated an air of authority. Her soft blue skin and the pointed, furred ears that rose from the top of her head marked her as Equestrian, but what truly drew Sunset’s attention more than anything else was the woman’s voluminous, flowing hair. A scant few shades lighter than her uniform, the hair danced and flowed in the air around her, ebbing and flowing as if caught in an unseen ocean current. It also sparkled with a light all its own, giving it an appearance not unlike a clear night sky.
“It…it can’t be,” Twilight murmured, her voice small and weak as she stared at the woman with wide eyes. “She’s not… she’s…”
“What?” Flash whispered, though his voice was tinged with an urgent sense of confusion. “You two both look like you’ve seen a ghost; does somebody want to clue me in?”
Despite her every instinct screaming out with an answer she knew in her heart was true, the logical part of Sunset’s mind fought a losing battle of denial. Every reason why not, every other explanation, every rationalization was swept away as she matched stares with a woman that had seemingly stepped straight out of Equestrian mythology. Even so, the only words she could think to say were the obvious ones.
“Who are you?” Sunset spoke. “What is this place?”
“Greetings, Sunset Shimmer,” she said as she unfolded a set of feathered wings from her back and spread them wide in grandiose fashion. “I have been looking forward to meeting you. I am Commodore Luna.” A cold ghost of a smile appeared on the woman’s lips. “Welcome to Section 31.”
Uh, cut! Cut please!
Really? That's how you want to introduce this glorified scratchpad?
And take off the eyepatch?
