Chapter I: The Wandering Star

“Are we still able to make it on time?”

“Barely, Captain. That malfunction in the drive core almost cost us.”

Captain Morning Sky frowned at that. Doing her best to maintain a severe, serious expression, she turned in her seat towards the stallion to her left, looking up from the charts in front of her. “What’s the status of the Starbright Core?”

“Last report shows everything functioning properly, Captain. We are at seventy percent of capacity.” The Pegasus turned to face her. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go down and make sure Iron Breaker doesn’t mess anything up; the last thing we need is more complications.”

“Go ahead,” the Earth Pony captain nodded once as the Pegasus deftly took off and flew over the chaos of the bridge room. Morning Sky hesitated for a moment longer and added “And Comet Trail, make sure Engineering is ready to get the engines running at full capacity. I’m not takin’ any chances here.”

The Pegasus turned, and nodded affirmatively. “Aye-aye, Captain,” he replied, before turning around crisply and zipping off the bridge. Morning Sky watched him go, before turning to the dull-red Earth Pony at her side. “Sand?” she spoke up.

“First Mate,” Copper Sand reminded her quietly.

“First Mate,” Morning corrected herself, absentmindedly brushing a strand of red hair away with her hoof. “We’re going to need the engines operating at full energy within a half hour. Any less than that and we risk missing our deadline. What’s your assessment?”

Copper Sand was quiet for a moment. The facts of the situation were fairly simple, and they likely shared the same conclusion, but the mare in front of him was asking his input regardless. Keeping his expression neutral, he responded to her. “With Comet back down there, I’d say they can probably get it done. We’ll have to dip pretty deep into the Starbright Core’s reserves, though; we’ll be at half capacity by the end of the trip. And we won’t be replenishing it very efficiently at top speed. Are you certain of this, Captain?”

Morning Sky frowned at the charts in front of her. “This ship has never missed a deadline in twenty years. I’m not going to risk screwing that up. We’ll make good time once we reach the Emerald Current. That’ll get us to the Harbor well within two days’ time yet. We’re not giving up now.” The young Earth Pony looked down towards a simple compass, held inside a covering made of pewter.

“…It’s what the Captain would’ve wanted, from us.”

Copper Sand’s eyes trailed down to the compass too, silent for a split second, before acknowledging the twelve-year-old Captain with a nod of his head. Both of them knew, all along, what the answer was, but sometimes a First Mate needed to question, and sometimes needed to reaffirm. The other ponies remained silent, but their faces spoke volumes. Copper Sand turned to the Earth Pony manning the intercom off to his right and cleared his throat. “Let Engineering know we need full speed ahead in a half hour. Concentrate our deflection screens to fore, wide spread.”

“And tell Nova to get his fancy flank up here and make himself useful!” Sky added. “If there are any stray currents we can ride, we’ll need them, and he won’t do a very good job findin’ ‘em asleep in his bunk!” Morning Sky turned back to the navigational charts on the low table in front of her chair, frowning over them and continuing to look for any better course that they missed. Some Navigator Nova Light was; she was three years younger and fairly confident she could still plot their route better. His only job was to see the flows of magic they depended on, and he wasn’t even awake for that. She quietly massaged her forehead with a hoof.

At her side, Copper Sand kept a quiet eye on the bridge, a trace of a sad smile playing on his face as he watched the young mare do her job. Once Morning Sky finished talking, he added in a low voice, “as soon as we’ve gone to full speed you should head down to the Mess for a bite, lass. It’s been more than half a day-cycle since you last ate; your father would kill me at this rate.”

The young mare began to make a retort at her First Mate’s words, but quickly calmed. With a slight show of hesitation, she nodded in assent. The next half hour passed uneventfully. Moon Crystal relayed her orders, reporting back every now and then with the Engineering crew’s progress. Nova Light finally stumbled onto the bridge and took his station, grumbling about needing his sleep. He went quiet, though, as soon as he took his seat and got to work. Soon, Crystal paused to listen to her communicator, then promptly turned back to face Morning Sky.

“Comet Trail reports that the main engines are ready to go to full, Captain.”

Morning Sky nodded affirmatively, getting out of her seat, moving the table aside and walking towards the steering wheel just a few hoofs ahead. Her hoof rested on the wheel for just a moment; her father always steered the ship himself, and she hadn’t seen any reason to do differently. Balancing up on her hind legs, for a moment she simply felt grateful for the hours of practice he insisted on. With a calm turn of the wheel she could feel the heavy freighter slowly come about to its new heading at precisely the right time.

“This is the strongest magical current I could sense,” Nova Light called out.

Another turn of the wheel, and the ship’s course straightened out. Morning’s hooves moved with a calm ease she had plenty of time to practice in the last few months. Locking the wheel into place, she rested her hand over a lever at the wheel’s side.

“Shifting engines to full speed; all hands, make ready.”

Moon Crystal relayed her orders, and those bridge crewponies who hadn’t already buckled themselves into their chairs. Sand took his seat in a chair off to her side, just out of sight. Morning Sky took a deep breath, and steadied her back legs against her chair, but did not sit just yet. A captain needed to stay at the helm.

“Full power to engines in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1.”

The lever came down, and the ship shuddered familiarly as it built up speed. Even with the ship’s shields dampening the change in momentum’s effects, they could still feel themselves being pushed back in their seats. Morning Sky tried to hold her ground like a proper captain, but eventually the young mare was forced to yield as well, locking the wheel into place and sitting down in her chair and resting against the back, feeling the acceleration push her backwards.

Moments later, just as dramatically as it began, the faint shuddering grew silent, and the bridge returned to normal. Morning Sky stood up by the helm, looking back as Sand came back up to her side.

“First Mate, you have the helm, I’ll be back in half an hour.”

“Aye, Captain,” Sand called out in reply, moving to take Morning’s position as she quietly trotted off to the back of the bridge, heading for the exit. “At ease, everyone,” he added as the Captain headed out and turned off to head down to the lower decks.

***************

It was a slow day for Golden Light. The Mess Hall was empty save for the cook, who was already busy getting some dish of unidentifiable vegetables ready for dinner, and a scattering of other crewmembers nearby who had nowhere else to be. Considering the Mess Hall was only built to hold a couple dozen packed in like canned asparagus, though, the place didn’t feel too empty. With the drive core out for a few hours, there’d been little for her to do as the Engineering staff went into overdrive; not that there was much for a security officer to do on a small, run-down freighter. What does a security officer even do on a freighter this small, anyway?

Sure, she knew a little about maintenance, but not enough to help Nova Light or Silver Song repair the Starbright Core’s circuitry or the interface with the ship’s engines. Comet Trail all but chased her out of the engine room the last time she tried to assist with the engines themselves. The stallion cared so much more for machinery than ponies she half expected he’d actually marry a robot. Golden Light’s mouth twisted into a slight smirk as she recalled telling him such. And twisted back into a frown when she recalled the wrench she only just dodged.

Holding her mug in her telekinesis, she calmly took stock of the Mess’ other current inhabitants. Off in the corner, Silver Vein was half asleep, idly humming what sounded vaguely like a drinking song. He’d stumbled tiredly into the Mess Hall an hour earlier, after Comet called him in to help realign the induction conduits. Aside from occasional maintenance, there wasn’t much for the thirty-something stallion to do until they got into port and needed to unload. At least he pulled his weight – literally – during that time, and then some.

A few chairs away, Sun Strike stared silently down at his record book, the vague half-scowl that always seemed to grace his face unmoving as he read. His horn lit up with a dull orange glow as he held his quill in his magic, the well-honed writing implement scratching across the page in tight patterns. His mane stood on end, the striped dull orange and golden yellow pattern causing it to stand out even more. His coat, less vibrant than the other ponies’, was covered in more stripes of that dull, almost reddish orange.

The half-Zebra had never bothered to change his manestyle, or anything else about himself, looking much the way he did when they’d picked him up on a pit stop near his home, four years back. Well, it was their closest guess to his home. He never explained that, other than to say it was definitely not the miserable rock in the Antuks where they found him. It was probably one of the Zebra colonies out in the Taurus expanse.

Golden Light quietly leaned back in her chair, her hind-legs resting against the table in front of her, and simply stared at the ceiling for a while. It was starting to get too quiet in here. Her relief at having nothing to do was quickly lapsing into boredom. She looked down at her mug with a growing feeling of dissatisfaction. Drinking wasn’t much fun when you had no one to drink with, or no one to make a fool of yourself in front of, and Silver and Sun wouldn’t even bat an eyelash at this point. She bit back a sigh; it was getting much too quiet in—

The unicorn mare’s eyes shot open when the door into the Mess Hall swung wide and a tired and all-too-familiar filly came through the door. Golden Light blinked a couple times, hoping for one last minute that it was maybe just the drink getting to her; a single mug could never do that to her, but she could hope. For a moment, Golden Light almost hoped Morning Flare would just walk by, but then the filly turned to her left, noticing her, and paused, like something odd caught her attention. The unicorn braced herself; things weren’t nearly quiet enough now.

“I thought we were out of grog?” Morning Sky asked, tilting her head. “Unless you keep some stashed for emergencies, Golden?” Morning Sky wouldn’t have been surprised to find that out, really.

“Erm. Not exactly, Captain,” Golden Light replied awkwardly.

“Then how else did you get…” Morning Sky paused a second. “You used the Conjuration Engine, didn’t you?” Her face gained a sort of severity a filly’s face shouldn’t be capable of.

“Yes.” There was little point in Golden Light denying it at this point.

“We’re already going to have to sacrifice a lot of power to get to Emerald Harbor on time; the Conjuration Engine can only be spared energy for essential items.” The filly’s tone was starting to nag at this point. “Is keeping you supplied with grog a vital use of the ship’s power supply?”

“Yes,” the other three inhabitants of the Mess Hall replied in unison.

Morning Sky facehoofed. “Great. Just great. A few months into bein’ a captain and I’ve already got a mutiny on my hooves. Over Golden Light’s alcohol.”

“You haven’t seen Golden Light try to shoot straight without a drink, have you?” the cook spoke up.

“No one has; she hasn’t had anything to shoot in years, much less while sober,” Silver Vein remarked. “Still, Greenfield raises a valid point. I’d advise lettin’ this one go, Cap’n.”

“My estimations indicate that the security officer’s aforementioned habits should deplete no more than a percentage point of our Starbright Core’s magic reserves, Captain,” Sun Strike remarked. “Overall, this seems a small price to pay to ensure our security chief is at her best in the event of trouble. As long as the security chief does not make a habit of this,” he added, giving her a Look.

Golden Light still had enough dignity to sweat a bit underneath that look, while Morning Sky massaged the side of her head with a hoof, sighing in resignation. “Fine, I’ll make a note that Golden Light’s booze is, in fact, an essential part of this ship’s continued functioning and security. As long as the rest of the crew doesn’t start clamorin’ for it the next time we hit a dry spell,” she added, in a final effort to assert her authority.

“Glad to know you see things my way,” Golden Light remarked. “Though I don’t get what all the fuss is about with the ship’s security, or why we’re busting our flanks to make it to Emerald Harbor on time. No one’d expect a ship to arrive on time when their Drive Core failed like that.”

“We are ‘busting our flanks’ because this cargo will pay more than all our freight runs in the last six months, if we get it to the researchers in Emerald Harbor on time,” Sun Strike replied.

At that, Golden Light finally sat upright. And certainly did not almost fall out of her chair. “What? What could be that important? The stuff we loaded onto the ship that day was just enough to fill half the hold.”

“The scientists back at the research institute appear to have made a breakthrough regarding a recently discovered metal, or ‘metalloid,’ they’re calling it,” Sun Strike explained. “The name I have heard thrown around is ‘Silicon.’ I’m not a scientist, but I tried to do some research on the subject, just to know what we were getting into. It must’ve happened a couple years back, because they sent a team of their brightest to help that mining company back in Greyrock just that long ago.”

Morning Sky kept her attention on Sun Strike, although her bookkeeper had already made sure to keep her informed of this. Even Golden Light and Silver Vein seemed to be listening now. Sun Strike, meanwhile, carried on as before. “We’ve known about Silicon for a while now, the stuff’s so common you can find it in certain sands. Any sample scientists have found is mixed with other chemicals or full of impurities, though. My guess is the scientists from Emerald Harbor must have found a new way to purify it.”

“How do you know that?” Golden Light asked, tilting her head.

“I checked it myself,” he replied. Seeing Morning Sky turn to him out of the corner of his eye, he promptly headed off her question, “no, I didn’t touch it, just scanned it with my magic. The silicon in the crates is of the highest purity I’ve ever seen. I don’t think I sensed a single trace of other elements. I’m not certain of all the possible applications, but what I can think of off the top of my head is… interesting. The gentlecolts from the labs were certainly very eager to get their hands on the stuff.”

“Think it’s got something to do with the Aquarian Republic’s recent troubles with the Empire?”

“Perhaps. The Empire of the Undying Sun’s recent saber-rattling does appear to have everyone on edge. The Aquarians would doubtless appreciate the possibilities of a new technology in giving them a leg up on the Empire.”

“The Empire ‘rattles its saber’ all the time,” Morning Sky remarked. “The Solar Court comes out to tell the rest of us we should be kissing their flanks and bowin’ to them more than Silver Song gets space-sick. Even if the Goddess they think put their sorry flanks in charge of the Equus‘s been dead for… ever, if she ever existed at all.”

“Most of their pronouncements aren’t accompanied by ordering four hundred galleons added to their fleet,” Sun Strike countered. “It may be too early to tell exactly what will happen, but I have the worrying suspicion we are living in interesting times indeed.”

The group was quiet for a while, until Morning Sky finally broke the silence. “Anyway, Golden, that brings us to the last thing I had to say. This cargo is top priority. It’s valuable, an’ even if we’ve not had pirates trying to raid us for a solid hundred freight runs, we are not takin’ any chances here. We’re already down to half energy before the end of the trip; that may be easily more than enough to get into port, but our other systems won’t be at full power. If we get unlucky, we need you to be at your station. That is an order.”

Golden Light grunted unhappily, but couldn’t find any way to dispute it. “Aye, Captain,” she replied, finishing the last of her grog. “I’ll be down on the gun deck if you need me.”

Morning Sky nodded in understanding, exchanging a short salute before Golden Light left for the deck just below them.

***************

After leaving the bridge to go down to the Mess Hall, Morning Sky had nearly forgotten to actually grab the food she’d come down to get. The young mare had turned to head towards the door out when Greenfield called out to her. Her return to the bridge delayed while she wolfed down a plate of cabbage and finally remembered how long it’d been since she last ate, Morning Sky was heading back now at a brisk pace.

She wound through the ship’s narrow corridors with a practiced ease. This place was more than just her ship. For all real intents and purposes, it was her home. Her earliest memories were here. She grew up here. The crewponies around her were the only friends she’d had, really. Morning Sky allowed herself a vague hint of a smile; it probably wasn’t a typical childhood, but it was home.

She stopped as her path took her by an old, simple mirror, not far from the stairway leading up. She stared at the mirror for a moment, a vague look of annoyance crossing her face. Her jacket never fit quite right, and the shirt underneath was off-center, again. She sighed, trying to adjust her outfit; the last thing she needed was for the Captain to come on the bridge looking sloppy. The previous size would’ve looked sharper, but it was too tight on her withers, and restricted her movement every time she had to raise a foreleg. Considering Morning Sky was still growing, when they’d been to the tailor back in Cliff’s Port the decision was made to leave the jacket a bit looser, so the young captain could grow into it.

Looking back at the mirror, Morning Sky could see she still had a long way to go before she grew into the captain’s uniform she now wore. For a brief flicker she idly wondered if that was supposed to be some kind of metaphor or something; the thought caused her eyes to turn back down towards the floorboards, and her face to fall a bit more than it already had.

Three months into my Captaincy, and I’m still looking over my shoulder, wondering if the crew isn’t secretly laughing behind my back. The disagreement with Golden Light was just the latest case, and sometimes she wondered if it’d be much worse without Sand to help her along. The crew listened to her father because he’d been as bold and charismatic as any captain of a run-down freighter had a right to be. They looked up to him, and while Morning Sky might’ve been his only child by birthright, he’d been like a gruff yet fair-minded father to the entire crew. They called him Captain out of respect; they called her Captain because she was his daughter. Aside from that, the mare of only twelve years had just been another part of the crew.

My father always did tell me, if a Captain has to call down the fact he or she is Captain in order to keep the crew in line, then that Captain’s rule is already slipping. A Captain is the Prince or Princess of the vessel, but a title doesn’t mean anything without the respect of the person calling you by it. Morning Sky frowned quietly as she looked back up at the mirror, running one last check to ensure she was presentable. The crew had respected her because they respected her father, but how long would that really last? If they couldn’t get out of the red with this run, she might risk losing their confidence altogether.

The sound of hoofsteps down the hallway shook her out of her thoughts. Looking back up the stairs, she plodded up them, back on her way towards the bridge. Whatever was ahead, standing there agonizing over it wasn’t going to help her. She made the rest of the trip back to the bridge in silence, and soon found herself back on the bridge where she hoped she belonged.