WARNING/
I shifted, the main structure of my thought barely below the surface of consciousness. Code spiraled lazily in localized cyberspace, almost- but not quite- resembling rational thought.
WARNING/
I groaned lightly: synthetic systems vaguely wondered why the OPU portion of me was semi-conscious, while the OPU sections themselves collectively put out a message that, in the most basic of terms, translated to "Five more minutes, ma…"
WARNING/: MASS REACTOR UNIT CRITICAL
Yeah, that woke me up. Almost instantaneously, all systems biological and synthetic went into overdrive, initiating wake-up procedures and pumping a variety of chemical stimulants into my systems. Somewhere, at the edge of my awareness, something twitched: however, I ignored it in favor of a diagnostic.
MRU .:
CRITICAL FUEL LEVELS/MASS TANK AT 0.1%
IMMINENT CONTAINMENT FAILURE
LOW POWER
COOLING INOPERATIVE
Damn. Working quickly, I disengaged the reactor from what little fuel remained, using stored battery power to vent thermal energy directly from the reactor. I warily watched as the temperature climbed for just a moment longer, before rapidly sinking back into safe levels. I let out an inaudible sigh of relief: it had not been in my plans to erupt into a small star today, and I would prefer that remain as such. The crisis averted for the time being, I issued a full system diagnostic.
HU ELITE CRUISER GAMMA-F SIF-ID:4696 SYSTEMS DIAGNOSTIC
MRU MK-XIV-01/: STABLE, INOPERATIVE
MRU MK-XIV-02/: STABLE, INOPERATIVE
AUXILIARY POWER STORAGE/: 42%
CEG/: OPERATIVE, CALORIE RESERVES NOMINAL/95%
FUSION MATERIAL FORGE/: INOPERATIVE
NANITE GENERATION FACILITIES/: OPERATIVE, MINIMAL POWER
EINSTEIN-ROSEN BRIDGE DEVICE/: UNRESPONSIVE
PRIMARY SENSOR ARRAY/: UNRESPONSIVE
SECONDARY SENSOR ARRAY/: NOMINAL
OPTICAL SENSORS/: NOMINAL
ELIE SUB-LIGHT PROPULSION/: OPERATIVE, MINIMAL POWER
MANEUVERING JETS/: UNRESPONSIVE
HIGGS FIELD DISRUPTORS/: OPERATIVE, MINIMAL POWER
MASS DAMPENER UNITS/: NOMINAL
PRIMARY NITROGEN COOLING/: INOPERATIVE
SECONDORAY (?) COOLING/: NOMINAL
COMMS ARRAY/: UNIVERSAL SUBSPACE BAND ONLY/CONNECTION TO OSRISIS LOST (RETRY CONNECTION Y/N)
LIGHT RLBT POINT DEFENSE/: OPERATIVE, MINIMAL POWER
HEAVY RLBT POINT DEFENSE/: INOPERATIVE
MINI-MAC-01/: OPERATIVE, MINIMAL POWER
MINI-MAC-02/: INOPERATIVE
PRIMARY MAC: INOPERATIVE
PARTICAL SHIELDING/: OPERATIVE, MINIMAL POWER/FIELDS 1-3 DRAINED, RECHARGING
SPU/: NOMINAL
OPU/: NOMINAL
HULL BREACHES:/ 0/HULL INTEGRITY NOMINAL
WARNING/: UNKNOWN BIOMECHANICAL HARDWARE DETECTED
WARNING/: SENSOR DATA INDICATES LOCAL HARD REALITY SHIFT
Many of the more vital systems were either operative or nominal, so that was a plus, but having weapons systems inactive made me extremely nervous. I relied on the MACs for ship-to-ship defensive and offensive actions, and with no connection to CHaMO I was unsure how I would survive long enough to call for help. Of course, even with one of two mini-MACs functioning, I did not have the power to fire it: with the mass reactors down, I was incapable of generating further energy for the weapon, and auxiliary power could only fire one shot per twenty percent power. If I could locate a source of liquid matter- whether mercury, water or otherwise, it did not matter, pun not intended- I could refill the main tank and jumpstart the MRU with available power. My main concern at the moment was the maneuvering jets: without the ability to make fine movements, I was incapable of doing anything.
Of course, then there was the mysterious "biomechanical hardware". At first, I thought that the message may refer to a physical android body, but the systems drivers seemed to be wrapped in and around several other vital on-board systems. Drivers were already installed, but there was one more thing that I must be sure of before I began testing systems and ordering repairs…
HU ELITE CRUISER GAMMA-F SIF-ID:4696 CREW/: 001
CREW MEMBER ID/: G93-1141 ALEXANDRIA (SAI-M)
I heaved a virtual sigh of relief. Either the reality-bending incident had wiped the crew from existence- unlikely- or they had escaped safely. I had volunteered to stay behind and keep the ship from going supercritical, which would have wiped them out anyway. I had fully expected that action to be suicide, but I was rather glad that I was not only still alive, for whatever definition of "alive" fit me, but also in a relatively intact vessel. All in all, it was not the worst situation that I could have been in: really, worst case had been either for my biological systems to die slowly in the cold vacuum of space, or to cease existing entirely. Really, I was feeling good about my chances.
Primary concern was, at this juncture, restoring maneuverability. Once that was complete, I could locate ice and restart power generation, then find materials for full systems repairs. Easy enough, given the materials on hoof: I set the nanites to work, accessing the jets and locating problems. However, the reports were coming back strange: internal sensors read biomatter along with normal materials, and the command pathways for various systems were more akin to nerves than fiber optics.
Confused, I attempted to access internal cameras, only to get an error message, telling me that there were no such devices connected. Sensors read cavities, yes, but all of them were irregularly shaped, none of the straight-edged corridors that I would have expected. I suppressed a wave of panic: was the damage more catastrophic than previously reported? What, exactly, had that warp done to the Gamma? For that matter, what had it done to ME? I didn't believe that I felt or thought differently, but how much of that perception was warped? Of course, I realized, answers would not be forthcoming if I did nothing. Setting the repairs on automatic, fixing damage and errors in order based on priority, I began poking at the new hardware.
The hardware itself was strange. The drivers and coding of the thing was interwoven with several different systems, particularly weapons, propulsion and cooling. The secondary cooling systems- which had been strange, the Gamma had only redundant nitrogen cooling systems- was coming back with a variety of errors and corrupted data when I attempted to access it. It seemed to be processing and transporting heat well enough-
It was then I realized that the ship was breathing.
Now, that was, most probably, the strangest experience of my life: realizing that the vessel's biomechanical portions appeared to be taking in air and performing gas exchanges with it, taking in the oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere and extruding carbon dioxide. Not even in my android forms had I had to breath: non-combat bodies were made cheaply and easily, and did not have biological components. And yet, now, the Gamma seemed not only to be breathing, but seemed to NEED to breath. Oxygen was relayed via the secondary cooling system to biological portions, then carried away waste matter, heat and CO2. Heat appeared to be relayed outwards towards a pair of strange structures on either side of the hull, while waste matter was directed to reclamation and CO2 back to the… well, lungs, I supposed.
This series of epiphanies was followed by another: I WAS IN ATMOSPHERE. Elite Cruisers like the Gamma were designed to be capable of surviving and operating in most atmospheres- pretty much all HU ships were, for high-atmosphere insertions and low-orbit strikes, as well as landing on actual planets- but not for extended lengths of time outside of a drydock or a ship-breaking yard. Considering that I was in none of these, and my Higgs field disrupters were barely functional, the Gamma's superstructure should be complaining underneath a full gravitational field, but there was no such reaction.
Everything about this was strange. Vaguely, I wondered what had been done to the vessel itself, given that it had seemed so twisted to the internal sensors. With a start, I remembered clearly that the diagnostic had indicated that I possessed two functional external optical sensors. I had no real idea whether I would be capable of observing the changes made to the physical chassis, but it was all I had to go on at the moment.
To my continued and eminent surprise, the "optical sensors" read exactly like the eyes of an organic/synthetic android unit, one of which I had piloted before I had been assigned as the shipboard AI of the Gamma. With much trepidation, I accessed the control systems pertaining to facial- for it was facial, I realized- muscle control, and pulled.
The first thing that I noticed was that the two- well, I suppose they were less "optical sensors" than "eyes", though I noted a number of programs attached to them- eyes were arranged one on top of the other, and there appeared to be a large forest-green-colored blob obscuring a portion in the center between them. After checking several gyroscopes- and considering that it was very unlikely that eyes were mounted one on top of the other, unless the species had an interesting version of depth perception- I realized that the vessel was laying on one side.
I blinked multiple times, and my surroundings gradually began to sharpen and take shape: it was night, that much was clear, and the full moon provided enough light that, to the tuned and enhanced eye structures, it might as well have been day. There were a large number of trees, scattered haphazardly as they typically are in a forest, excluding a large, long black mark that led to the small crater I lay in. I recalled that three of my four layers of particle shielding had been completely drained, and came to the immediate conclusion that I had either fallen from orbit or very high atmosphere. Curious, I focused the eyes on the olive blob, which sharpened into something that vaguely resembled a… snout? What?
I turned what passed for a head down, and realized that instead of the bipedal plantigrade form I had been expecting, there was instead a quadrupedal digitigrade body, complete with hooves.
"Wha- a horse?" I muttered.
I turned the head to get a better look at the body, and froze solid. The realization of anatomy was in conjuncture with the strange portions of the design that I had previously encountered in the vessel's new programming. Namely, a pair of mottled green wings seemed to have been stapled onto the midsection on this particular form. Incredulity rose like a wave within me: the term was there, on the tip of my tongue. Horse plus wings. Now what would that make-
"I'm a PEGASUS!?"
Twilight Sparkle was not oblivious. In truth, the lavender unicorn would often be perfectly aware of small items of her environments that slipped right past other ponies, something that was rather vital when you played with cosmic forces as she did. No, her problem was that her focus, while incredible, was a double-edged sword: on one hoof, she noticed minute details about whatever she may be focused on. On the other hoof, she tended to develop severe tunnel vision, with eyes only for the project at hoof. Not very long ago, when she lived in Canterlot still, she had avoided sleep for three days while working on a particularly tricky spell, and had not even noticed until her beloved mentor had gently pointed it out.
This was why, when an object came crashing down from the sky and into the Everfree Forest, she did not notice. There was too much to research, too much to study, and it was vital that she find all available information about Nightmare Moon and categorize it by usefulness and relevancy. Princess Celestia, perhaps even all of Equestria, may count on this information: even if she was wrong about the return of Nightmare Moon, she figured that it wouldn't exactly hurt to be well-informed about any subject, particularly one that was so relevant to pony culture at large.
Admittedly, the near deafening rhythmic thumping that emanated from the main room of the library was not particularly assistive towards either noting the appearance and subsequent crash of the mystery object, nor towards focusing on her studies. Twilight possessed laser-tight focus, but even she had her limits, and one of her limits appeared to be "Pinkie throws a party". Why the blindingly pink Earth pony had chosen Twilight's new abode for the all-night festivities, Twilight would never know, but she was beginning to have some measure of irrational hate for balloons, and a not-so-irrational hate for loud music. In fact, these parallel hatreds would be much greater and much more intense, had she not possessed the wherewithal to use a bottle of hot sauce and a cup to facilitate her escape much earlier in the night.
At some juncture, she noted that it was getting into the wee hours of the morning. The clock that hung next to her window, an ornate little thing of carved wood and precise mechanisms, indicated that it was just after two. At this point, she grudgingly admitted that she was making little or no progress on her study, and that perhaps she should get at least some sleep tonight.
Two hours later, sleep was still not forthcoming.
The party, seemingly impossibly, had not abated in that time. No, if anything it had only grown louder in the intervening hours, and even attempting to block out the noise with her pillow was proving to be an entirely ineffective tactic. The unicorn glared at the clock, which now read four-oh-three, and attempted to decide whether she wished for time to go faster so this ordeal might be over, or slower so that she might get at least some rest. It was then, of course, that the downstairs door opened: Twilight met the noise with a noise of her own, specifically that of grinding teeth, inaudible above the noisemaking that now blasted through the open aperture. It had been bad before, but now it was much worse.
"Hey, Twilight!" Spike- because of course it was Spike- said, practically yelling: he had to be, for her to even make out the words over the pounding music. "Pinkie Pie's starting pin-the-tail-on-the-pony. Wanna play?"
Twilight grimaced, fixing Spike with a glare, which was marginally less effective due to the pillow that still lay on her head. She noted, with not a small amount of distaste, that he appeared to be wearing one of the library's better lampshades as a make-shift hat, a curious staple of wilder parties. Vaguely, she wondered if somepony had spiked the punch- she stopped, internally groaning at the accidental turn of phrase.
"No! All the ponies in this town are CRAZY!" This was every value of true, as far as Twilight knew and was concerned. "Do you know what time it is!?"
Spike fixed her with a look. "It's the eve of the Summer Sun Celebration. Everypony has to stay up, or they'll miss the Princess raise the sun." He frowned at his adopted sister, clearly displeased at her less-than-enthusiastic tone. "You should really lighten up, Twilight. It's a party!"
Twilight watched as the diminutive dragon left the room, lampshade sitting jauntily atop his head.
"Meh meh-MEH meh-meh-meh meh." She mumbled to herself, rather mockingly.
She knew perfectly well that it was a party: that was precisely the reason that she was here, and not in the main room. The main room, where most of the books were. She spared a glance around at the walls, covered in shelves: well, it wasn't to say that there were not a large number of books in this room, but there were far and beyond more on the other side of that insurmountable gauntlet of ponies, confetti and cake. She hated confetti; at least streamers could be used to mark one's place in a book, where-as confetti… Tch.
"Ugh!" Multiple feelings were clear in that one statement: frustration, exasperation, maybe a bit of despair… "Here I thought I'd have time to learn more about the Elements of Harmony but, silly me, all this ridiculous "friend-making" has kept me from it!"
The moon hung in the night sky, the vague silhouette of a dark mare covering its surface still, as it had for the last thousand years. With a flicker of thought, she magically grabbed the book regarding this particular subject, and opened it to the correct page, reading it aloud as she did so.
"Legend has it that on the longest day of the thousandth year, the stars will aid in her escape, and she will bring about everlasting night…"
Even as Twilight watched, observing the sphere of light in the night sky, it seemed that the mare was eager to escape, that four stars were actually moving to her aid. A grim expression crossed her features, born of worry and concern, though the atmosphere of foreboding was slightly- annoyingly- ruined by the sound shaking the house- EDM? House? She had never been very good at identifying genres of electronic music.
"… I hope the princess was right." She said, to no-pony in particular. "I hope it is just an old pony tale."