PV-01 Orbit

Fifty-three vessels fled the Dusk of Hope. Fifty-one flew in tight formation descending to the planet their flagship was supervising. One collided with the hull, sending a warp-abomination in the void and trapping the captain of the Dusk inside. The remaining vessel followed the frigate. Inside this vessel were only one mare and three servitors. Contrary to the rest of the crew, she had to carry some orders before leaving, making here quite alone in the ship. Which was exactly what she wanted at this instant.

Rolling Die struggled with the communicator, failing to do what she had trained to do even in her sleep. She very vocally blamed the primitive communicator for her difficulties. Once again, the activity kept her brain from assessing the recent turn of events. Digits and codes didn't judge. A satisfying series of bips finally indicated her that the communication was established.

The face of her captain appeared on the screen, distorted and blurry.

A pang of guilt stung her as she saw how tried he looked. Captain Typhoon Snivel had visibly been through Tartarus. His uniform was torn in several places, revealing deep cuts in his maroon fur, sometimes sinking in its flesh. Half dried blood had dripped from a cut on his face and his bionic legs were gone, replaced by the golden aura of his magic. Sat tiredly on his throne, he looked as if he had to carry the ship on his back. But his augmented eyes were as sharp as ever. They seemed to pierce even the static to reach her soul. Despite the situation, he was still the proud, calm stallion that had led the Dusk of Hope and three vessels before toward victories against impossible odds. It made her proud. Then guilty again.

"Hello, sir..."

Typhoon Snivel had not expected any transmission. He had imagined his death lonely, accompanied by the soft buzz of the servitors around him. As dutiful as they were, their conversation skills were pretty lacking. It took him a second to react to the attempt of communication. A few more to remember that he had no operator to take it for him. A few more again for his magic to do the unusual job. The screen shimmered to life. Several moment passed before the connection was established. A familiar face appeared on the screen. The unicorn had wondered who would have contacted him. All things considered, seeing his operator appear on the screen didn't surprise him much. It was oddly fitting that it would be her.

"Hello, operator."

For an moment, there was no words. The situation was unfamiliar. There was no order to be given or received. There was in fact, no captain nor operator. Only Typhoon Snivel and Rolling Die. Something in this pleased the unicorn. It was his last moments. There were worst ways to spend them. So Typhoon Snivel watched the mare. For once returning the attentive glare she'd send him when she thought he would not pay attention.

She was rather small, quite the common thing for pegasi spending too much time in artificial gravity. Yet, basic military training had given her enough muscles to make her look stocky rather than sickly. Her short grass-green mane was messy. Maybe messier than usual, which admittedly was not an easy feat. He couldn't discern her coat due to the static, but he was sure her yellow fur was in the same state. Black spots (of promethium he guessed) riddled her uniform and wings, like the spots of the fawns of old Canterlot. She looked ragged and exhausted, but these were expectable. Her apparent resignation was not.

"What owe me the pleasure Rolling Die?" he tried.

The pegasus became stiff at the mention of her name. She looked for accusation in it, in the tone. She was surprised to find none.

"I came... I mean..." she stuttered. It was even harder than in her head.

"I don't mind to wait for you to find your words," he laughed softly, "but I don't think the Dusk will be be very compliant in this."

"Sorry, sir!"

The unicorn laughed softly, causing more confusion to the pegasus. She took a deep breath and finally spoke.

"I came to apologize, sir."

"Apologize?" he exclaimed. "What for?"

"I trapped you here captain..."

Typhoon Snivel stayed silent. Yes. It would make sense the she'd believe that.

"The Imperium will lose a hero today, sir... And I cannot help but feel responsible... sir."

"Yes the Imperium may have lost that today. -" There was a pause. Typhoon watched in the distance a moment, then looked at his Operator. She looked pitiful now. Typhoon Snivel was not soft with his crew. He knew them as his own foals, knew all their strengths and flaws and treated them fairly. But he stayed distant. He never closed the gap for he feared exactly that. That feelings and regrets may one day come in opposition to duty. Maybe there was a lesson to teach before he died. "- Yet I do believe that it didn't lose all his brilliant contributors."

"Sir?"

"There were more than a thousand souls on the Dusk of Hope. More than one hundred still with their brain. Today, your contribution helped saving most of them. Maybe I could have done it without you raising the alarm for an insignificant surge in the shields. Maybe I could have been able to send the abomination in space on my own. But I was not on my own. You made it possible for me to react fast and efficiently. Just as intended."

"Sir, I-"

"And it all came at the cost of a hoofful of lifes."

"But-"

"And I do not even take into account PV-01. Nor the countless souls we may have saved. Thanks to these sacrifices."

Silence again. The message was starting to get to her, but the officer was not quite finished yet.

"Beside. You didn't condemn me. I never intended to leave the ship to begin with."

"What? Why?"

The officer smiled, his face merely choosing a pose rather than expressing a feeling. "Whatever attacked the Dusk, the Crusader, the Rettribution and the Barriere wanted them still able to function. They wanted them intact save for the warp-engines. I do not know why and I do not care. They wanted it that way, then we don't. Are you following me?"

"I suppose..."

"There was no way we could have destroyed all four ships. One. Maybe two. Then they would have reacted and probably stopped us..."

"So ramming the Crusader is a good way to get rid of half their prize... before they could raise the alert..."

Typhoon Snivel smiled and nodded. "I could have send the Dusk on the Tartarus and leave the ship. Why do you think I didn't?"

Rolling Die thought about it a second. The answer came up pretty quickly.

"Because they could send another creature..."

"See? You get it."

"But-"

"No buts Rolling Die. If I had had more time or knew exactly what we were facing, I could have think of something else, but it was not the case. I did my best. We all did."

She pondered upon it. Then answer. There was more strength behind the words this time. "Yes, sir."

Silence grew thick again. This time however, it carried no shame nor awkwardness. It was the comfortable silent born from a discussion where everything important had been successfully conveyed.

"Sir?" Rolling Die asked, finally breaking the lull. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did." The tone was serious, the smirk on his face was not.

"Sorry..."

"You already used your quota of sorries for this discussion Die," he jested. "Come on. Ask away."

"So- I mean... Yes sir," she smiled. "You- you hate coffee right?"

"I taste as if the foulest part of the warp had pissed in water and dubbed it a healthy drink," he stated plainly, enticing a laugh to his operator.

"Then... why do you drink it?" she asked, still giggling. "You always have this flask full of it and you always drink it when things get bad."

"Because..." he started.

Captain Typhoon Snivel pondered upon it. The answer was obvious, but the correct words eluded him. He looked at his screens. The Crusader took all the place in it now. How much time did he have left? Ten minutes? Half an hour? Funny how his own death looked so distant despite its imminence. Typhoon looked back at his Operator. The silence stayed unbroken for several seconds. Then the captain talked, his voice as calm and resolute as ever.

"Because, it's a small price to pay for the Imperium."


Author's Note:

"We commend our souls to the Emperor. Let the story of our sacrifice burn across history like a shooting star."

- Ultramares Veteran Sergeant Purging Light

"One cannot consider the fate of a single pony, nor ten, nor a thousand. Billions will live or die by our actions here, and we have not the luxury to count the cost."

- Inquisitor Kryptmare