Location: Aboard the Dragonfire, in transit
Date: 171 A.C.F.

The dragon's imagination hadn't lead him far astray when he'd anticipated the interior of a naval ship, both by design and by the natural hustle of the inhabitants. The carrier was, by his understanding, more efficient in terms of space management than previous designs, allowing it to house more people and the same offensive and defensive capabilities while remaining the same size as the previous incarnations. That was one of the way that ponies were distinct among the galaxy's inhabitants; while other species would build bigger, add more gizmos or gadgets or gears to the next editions, ponies worked by a different method - just make it more efficient. Why add size or reduce size or radically alter the design when the previous version proved perfectly sufficient? If it was good when it was a certain size, then improve the efficiency and maintain the advantage of the size. The body armour employed by ponies had stayed the same in its fundamental design for centuries upon centuries, and it was entirely conceivable that if one went back a millennium in time, they could recognise and fit a suit by themselves. The simplicity had numerous obvious advantages, and could be summarised by an equally simple maxim; if it isn't broken, don't fix it.

This meant that there was a good deal of space for the living quarters, something about which no one but a contrarian could complain. The bunks had fold-away drawers built into them, each with an ample amount of space for personal belongings of all descriptions. It was a more luxurious setup than they had been afforded during training, although it was the first time since then that Spike had shared a room with his former training partners. Featherweight, naturally, had taken the topmost bunk, a fact for which Spike was thankful as Truffle Shuffle squeezed into the bunk below him. He liked the guy a lot, but he wasn't sure he'd be okay with the substantial pony falling through the above bunk and onto him, however amusing it may have been to Pipsqueak and Rumble in the sleeping perches across from him. It was a natural arrangement, as far as prescription went; earth ponies liked to remain close to the ground, and pegasi liked to perch higher up, and so the five had quickly sorted themselves out without too much fuss.

"I highly doubt it," Rumble said, responding to Pipsqueak's question. The earth pony smirked, watching the two pegasi shift the position of the pieces on the chessboard. It was one of the things that they had brought along to occupy their time, and they had found that both Rumble and Featherweight had a predilection for the game.

"But it's a big ship, and there's always the chance that they'll have added in a new feature," Pip retorted. "They can afford to, after all. This model is 28% more efficient on storage than the BX81's, which means enough space for a dedicated beverage room and liquid storage. Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're not wrong on your run-down of the ship," Featherweight pointed out, taking Rumble's bishop with a pawn. The other pegasus immediately reacted by capturing the pawn with a knight. "You're wrong because the military is not going to finance a bar on every new vessel."

"But they could," Pipsqueak countered, undeterred. "We have a mess hall, barracks, storage, the whole shebang. What's to stop the up tops saying 'You know what? These lads aren't half bad, and we have room to put in some more generous amenities. Maybe we should spare a thought for the poor chaps adrift in the void, away from their families.' Why can't that happen?"

"Because they'd never give us anything for free," Rumble muttered, losing his knight to Featherweight's bishop and responding by moving a rook forward. "I'm sure they don't have a bank, a bowling alley, a swimming pool, or a Hayburger restaurant on board either."

"Truffle would've found it by now if they did," the observer agreed, while the mentioned pony rolled his eyes good-naturedly from his resting spot. "I'm still not entirely convinced there's not one here, though. What do you think, Spike?" His brown eyes sought out the mattress above Truffle's form, to where the dragon had been laying for the last ten minutes intently reading his data pad. Upon hearing his name, Spike's gaze gradually shifted over to the earth pony.

"I don't think there'll be a bar," he answered simply, turning back to his pad.

"But it's possible?"

"I'm sure it is."

"There we go then," Pipsqueak summarised with a grin, content with having convinced them at least of the plausibility of his argument. The others rolled their eyes while the earth pony smugly strutted over to Spike's bunk, leaning over casually. "What have you found?"

"Nothing," the drake shrugged, continuing to scroll. Pipsqeak remained silent, and the dragon relented with a sigh. "Nothing useful." He turned the data pad towards his friend, the man's brown eyes flicking back and forth between the lines on the screen.

"International research station, independent, located-"

"Everything we already know," Spike interrupted, placing it down on his mattress. "There's nothing helpful there. You think they'd have something about this place on record."

"What information do you need?" Truffle asked up, peering up at them with interest. The dragon gave a non-committal hand gesture in lieu of an answer, and Truffle shared a mildly confused glance with Pipsqueak. "You don't actually know what you want to find?"

"I just want something," Spike sighed. "I don't know, I just thought that something would appear if I looked long enough. I guess I was expecting too much."

"You've been looking for ages, mate," Pipsqueak intoned sympathetically. "It's hardly like something new is just going to spring up from you reading and rereading data."

"I know, but it was just easier to believe that I'd missed something rather than absolutely no source having what I'm looking for. Anything else, I could find out in a few minutes."

"Maybe it's classified?" Pip suggested, pursing his lips in interest. "You never know with research stations. Maybe they've discovered something that needs to be kept real hush-hush?" He seemed intrigued by the idea.

"Something like data on dragons?" Spike asked dryly. "They've been keeping that real quiet."

"The previously unknown but innate chameleon ability that all dragons possess?" Pipsqueak suggested with a smirk. "Useful for getting into invite-only events and for opening your presents early on Hearth's Warming Day. Would've been very useful in my youth, that."

"For invite-only events or opening your presents early?" Rumble asked, turning away from the finished chess game, ignoring Featherweight's smug satisfaction in his victory.

"They were one and the same. But now that I've got my very own dragon-"

"I am not going to be sneaking you in to a party," Spike cut in, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Camouflage or not. But if I ever get a ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala, you can have it."

"How generous of his lordship," the earth pony quipped. "Treating us lowly peasants to a taste of that finer lifestyle."

"A serf would do well to treat his lord with more respect," Spike retorted, drawn into the earth pony's banter. Mischief flashed in both of their eyes.

"Perhaps you can show a humble serf just what a leader is expected to do, mi'lord," the stallion challenged, gesturing to the vacant chessboard. The dragon scoffed and swung his legs down from his bunk.

"You're lucky I'm a generous lord. Others would've had you flogged for such improper insolence." Featherweight finished resetting the pieces and quickly vacated the chair for Spike while his opponent seated himself opposite. Pulling themselves up to the table, they looked the board over, their eyes scouting the battlefield. The others moved in closer to watch the game.

"Whipped for my manner of speaking?" Pipsqueak grinned, moving a pawn forward two spaces. "Sounds like we need a revolution for the common folk to be freed from your foul tyranny."

"Sounds like I have an uprising to quash." A black pawn shifted forward two spaces. "Problems like you have no place in my kingdom of excellence."

"A problem like me?" Pipsqueak raised his eyebrows and tutted. "You know what they say about problems; if you want a problem ignored, you talk to a pegasus. If you want a problem overanalysed, you talk to a unicorn. If you want a new problem, you talk to a griffon. But if you want a problem fixed..." Sliding his bishop out, the young man cornered Spike's rook, fixing the dragon with a challenging grin. "...you talk to an earth pony."

Twilight fought hard to keep herself from grinding her teeth in frustration as Pinkie Pie tied another balloon to her bunk, the plastic packets of air bumping against one another irritatingly. She'd been surprised to learn that the six of them were sharing a room, the quarters home to more than a single occupant on a warship. The others had taken it in their stride with the exception of Rarity, who had tutted morosely about the impact on her beauty sleep and the lack of space for her questionably sized luggage. By fortune of the ship's design, she had managed to fit everything in the storage space and was left slightly happier for it, though still in want of a curtain for her bed.

Here I was thinking I could liaison with the princess and do some research, Twilight thought to herself as Pinkie bounced joyfully on the mattress above her. But, silly me, all this ridiculous room-sharing and friend making is going to keep me from it! Her mood wasn't at all improved when Pinkie swung her head down from her bunk, beaming at her as she hung upside-down.

"So Twilight, when was your last sleepover?" she inquired all too-chirpily, still radiating her abundant enthusiasm. The unicorn bit back an exasperated sigh and forced herself to be civil, adopting a polite smile for the sake of keeping up appearances.

"I don't remember," she answered curtly. "I don't know if I've had one for years. Maybe even never." The upside-down woman balked at her answer, the smile on her face straightening out a little.

"Never?" she asked. "Never-ever? As in, never-ever-ever?" The idea seemed perplexing to her, something inconceivable or unimaginable, or at the very least, unspeakably awful.

"It's possible," Twilight answered noncommittally, turning the page of her book with an exaggerated swish of her fingers to hint at her desire to be left alone. The earth pony didn't register the sign, or at least didn't indicate that she understood Twilight's irritation.

"So this is your first sleepover?" she asked, tilting her head. The unicorn blinked at the question before considering her response. She fixed the girl with a confused frown.

"This isn't a sleepover, it's an allocation."

"Of course it is," Pinkie refuted. "Friends sleeping together in the same place. What else could that be?" She beamed at the other woman, pleased that she'd demonstrated the simple truth of the matter to the otherwise erudite mare. For her part, Twilight raised an eyebrow.

"An allocation?" she repeated, somewhat flatly. And we aren't friends. If Pinkie registered the impatience of the retort, which the unicorn highly doubted, she didn't show it, responding instead, irritatingly, with a beatific smile.

"Then let's make it a sleepover!" she cheered, swinging back up onto her bunk. "We can play spin the bottle, and share scary stories, and sing campfire songs, and-"

Twilight turned back to her book at that point, ignoring Pinkie as she whittled on about a list of desired activities and fun little games she had in mind for the group. Let her prattle on, she decided, decisively sinking back into the world of advanced physics and energy conservation. Twilight had better and more important things to do, and the inexhaustible girl would simply run out of steam at some point, something which the book she was reading confirmed; a closed system would invariably succumb to entropy, and Pinkie, as odd as she was, would be no exception.

"Twi?" Applejack's voice inquired, seeking the unicorn's attention. The other five women were seated in a circle on the floor, looking at the lone girl with expectant gazes. Pinkie's perpetual smile hadn't left her face, and she was bobbing slightly to the left and right while looking over her shoulder. Glancing in confusion between them all over the pages of the book, she raised an eyebrow at them.

"Yes?"

"We've been sittin' here waitin' for half a minute now. Are ya gonna join?"

The unicorn felt her mouth dry up and a cold chill overcome her body as she realised that the others had conceded to Pinkie's whims and now expected her to do the same, to socialise. She blanched at the concept, cursing herself for believing that the others would resist the odd woman's request. Feeling somewhat pressured by the piercing stares of her roommates and the fact that she was currently adrift in space with however long left until their arrival at whatever destination they were heading towards, Twilight reluctantly placed the book down and slid onto the floor, padding shyly, and a little grumpily, over to the gap in the circle, which, she noted with a degree of horror, Pinkie had reserved for her. The pink-haired maniac even patted it welcomingly as she approached.

I should have guessed it wasn't a closed system, she groused internally, setting herself down awkwardly between Pinkie Pie and Rarity and huddling her shoulders in, pressing her palms together and squeezing them between her thighs as though trying to quarantine her hands from the risk of social contact. To her right, Pinkie smiled with the energy of a supernova, her bright white teeth gleaming intently, her ceaseless back and forth bobbing persisting as she offered Twilight a friendly, approving nod and turned to the rest of the group. Or maybe I picked the wrong model, Twilight mused morosely, unable to escape Pinkie's constant wiggling. An object in motion...

"Is that-?" Featherweight asked, cocking his head at the situation in front of him. Rumble and Truffle seemed just as surprised, staring at the board bemusedly.

"A draw?" the other pegasus finished. "It seems so. Unless this is all part of Pip's master plan?" He smirked at the earth pony's responsive sigh.

"Never understood why kings are given special protection," Pipsqueak commented, turning his nose up sourly at the black and white pieces scattered across the board, the battle lines interlocking.

"It's hardly surprising that a peasant doesn't understand the significance of a king," Spike jabbed, smirking as he moved the pieces back to their starting positions. The stallion ignored him and pointed to the white king.

"If it can be taken, why can't you just take it? In battle, you don't yell out 'Oi, we have your general in scope, might want to surrender,' do ya? You'd take the sodding shot before he moved out of your line of sight."

"It plays like any other piece," Spike argued. "It takes one turn for the pieces to move into a position where one can take the other, and then another turn to take said piece. The king has to be saved before it's taken in the following turn, and if it can't, then it's presupposed that one player has won and the other has lost. It's like destroying the engine of an aircraft; you don't have to see the crash to know what's going to happen."

"Cut to black," Featherweight added, spreading his hands theatrically. "End scene, and credits roll. The audience is left to let their imaginations fill in the blanks."

"Okay," Pip conceded. "But no other piece is given prior warning. With the king, all choice is taken away from you, to the extent that you can lose a queen because you have no choice but to save the king. Any other piece, it's up to you to keep it safe. If you don't, that's your loss, or your tactics, or whatever."

"The king wouldn't have value if it wasn't given priority," Truffle suggested laconically. Rumble nodded his agreement, chipping in with, "The rook can move horizontally and vertically any number of spaces, the bishop can move diagonally any number of spaces, the queen can move in any straight line any number of spaces; the king is only just better than a pawn without it's inability to be taken until the end of the game."

"Even less reason to give it special status." Pipsqueak poked his king in disinterest. "If you have to give something an advantage and artificially inflate it's value, it doesn't have much value in the first place. I'd prefer to sacrifice my king for my queen, if it came down to it." He gave a snort and grinned. "We earth ponies never saw the need for kings and queens. Now I know why."

"Indolence?" Spike quipped, sporting a smirk of his own. "You wouldn't be able to command an army or a civilisation without kings, queens, princesses, generals, and some sort of social order."

"You think ponies ain't capable of living fine without those up on high orderin' them about?" the earth pony asked, cocking his head skeptically. "We both had kings and queens, and it did us a fat lotta good." He pursed his lips and looked up in thought. "On both sides the troops were commanded by royal princes, and they massacred each other mercilessly." His brown eyes narrowed, sweeping across the board and its twin armies, facing off silently against one another in their neat, ordered ranks. "Is that the point of chess? To show us the cruelty that war makes necessary, the nameless soldiers that will be sacrificed in pursuit of victory, as vain and meaningless as it is, only for the process to be repeated in a perpetual and unending cycle as brother is forced to smite brother, separated only by the side of the battle to which they are assigned and the allegiance to which they are sworn?" The earth pony slowly looked to each of his friends in turn, a dour frown set on his face. "Are we gods or monsters for playing this without taking heed? Are we arrogant in our ignorance, playing idly with insincere monuments to our own fate, with no self-awareness or desire to learn? Is it a warning which we so readily dismiss, or a scorning mockery of our stupidity, a cynical vigil to the nature of equinity?" The earth pony finished his speech as he locked eyes with Spike, his brown, unwavering gaze staring silently and piercingly into Spike's green. The tense silence was palpable.

Pipsqueak's proud grin set off an eruption of chortles, the earth pony's face folding from it's morbid hardness to its more characteristic friendly youthfulness. He swept a hand across his hair, brushing it back and leaning back in his chair to stretch.

"Spoken like a peasant," Spike noted, odd chuckles bubbling past his lips. The drake's smile was reluctant to slide from his face, the corners of his mouth turned up as though permanently set.

"Spoken like a clueless aristocrat," the stallion retorted, groaning as his arms and back clicked.

"Sometimes, Pip, I think you're an idiot," Rumble jumped in, leaning against one of the bunks. "Sometimes, I think you're a genius. And then there are times like this, when you seem determined to prevent me from ever figuring out which you actually are."

"Mate, that's something I don't know," the brown-maned man answered. "It's a good way to keep life interesting. Nothin' to do once you have everything figured out, so I'll be set for a good long while." This seemed to satisfy the pegasus, and he swapped positions with Spike, the latter standing up and stretching before heading over to his bunk. As Rumble started his game against the earth pony, the dragon fetched his data pad and tried to find something with which to occupy his time, his mind wandering idly to Twilight while scrolling down the various songs he had available. He briefly considered inviting her in for a game of chess, knowing that she'd be in her element, but dismissed it. She would trounce anyone who tried to play her, and she needed time to get used to her new friends. Selecting one of DJ Pon3's more recent releases, he looked up to watch the chess, the thump of the electronic music adding some atmosphere to the contest. Featherweight, bobbing his head a little in time to the beat, beckoned the dragon over to witness the now-music-fueled competition. Wandering over, Spike set Twilight and her friendship arrangement out of his thoughts, if only for a while. With luck, she'd be warming to them and their company.

In among the talking, the ooh-ing and ah-ing, the laughing, and the interpersonal interaction, Twilight Sparkle was rapidly warming to the idea of smothering herself with a pillow. Even if she had come to the realisation that it wasn't viable, the likelihood of it being less painful than enduring the company of the socially superfluous maniacs that she'd been tasked with accompanying made it appealing at the very least, and at best, worth the inevitable futility of giving it a shot. The most compelling argument against trying, in her mind at least, was that it was as likely to prompt Pinkie to start a pillow fight as it wasn't, which was something she wanted to avoid if at all possible. The games hadn't progressed beyond spin the bottle, and the unicorn was reluctant to see it continue but found it preferable to letting any more hair-brained schemes disrupt her night.

"Rarity, truth or dare?" Rainbow Dash asked, the bottle spinning to a stop on the fashionista. Flipping her hair over a shoulder, the unicorn took a second to consider her options.

"Truth," she settled on at last, wincing at the instantaneous fault-line grin of mischief that crossed the pegasus' face.

"Who in this room would you say has the worst dress sense?" Rarity's eyes bulged at the question, and Pinkie ooh-ed with interest, peering intently at unicorn, awaiting her response.

"That just isn't fair," Rarity complained. "You can't honestly expect me to tell someone in this room that I think that their dress sense is sub-par. It's simply not polite to say such a thing to somepony's face."

"Would it be politer to say it behind their back?" Rainbow deadpanned, holding up an open palm questioningly. The other interlocutor narrowed her eyes and huffed disapprovingly, reluctantly looking around at the gathering of girls. She took an uncomfortably long time, eyeing each of the participants back and forth. Fluttershy turned to hide her face behind a curtain of hair, uncomfortable under the scrutinising gaze of her friend, and even Twilight fiddled nervously with her purple strands, suddenly self-conscious about how she looked. Pinkie, of course, seemed to revel under the visual attention offered by her unicorn friend, seeming to subtly shift as though posing and showing off her best angles. Biting her lower lip, Rarity made three, four, and then fives rotations of the circle, ignoring Dash's deepening expression of impatience.

"Applejack, I suppose," she revealed at last, her voice laced with discomfort and her countenance an apologetic frown. The earth pony raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Why me?" she asked curiously, causing the unicorn to shift and fidget.

"I rather think that it's more your unfortunate position than your dress sense," the purple-maned woman answered, rubbing her hands together awkwardly. "You do work a manual job, and, of course, your attire has to account for that, and so it is understandable that your apparel is chosen for its function rather than its form. Practicality over aesthetics, if you will." She finished with a courteous but strained smile.

"I work weather and climate control," Rainbow cut in, the beginnings of an amused smile present on her face. "I have to wear jumpsuits and overalls and all sorts of things you'd call unfashionable. And I usually wear sportswear or stuff for working out." She broke out into a full smirk as the other woman turned to glare irately at her.

"Not helping," Rarity hissed, her eyes narrowed at the gleeful perpetrator of her forced confession.

"Rainbow does raise a good point," Applejack noted, earning a thankful nod from the prismatic pegasus. "Ah wear work clothes, and Rainbow wears work clothes. We both do physical jobs, but ya specified me. Why was that?" She waited patiently for the fraught unicorn to answer.

"Well, I don't spend as much time with Rainbow as I do with you," the seamstress excused herself. "I see you working, and I don't get to see Rainbow when she's working with aircraft or machines or chemicals-"

"Sportswear, exercise," the pegasus reminded her tersely, resting her head on a hand smugly. The unicorn made to snap something back at her, but a raised hand from Applejack stopped her.

"Sugarcube, ah can tell when y'ain't bein' honest. Why don't ya just spill the beans?" A brief silence followed her words.

"Fine," the designer submitted, sighing at her decision. "I'll admit it; I think that some of the clothes you wear are...plain." The answer seemed to take Applejack aback.

"Plain?" she asked, reflexively flicking her gaze over herself. "What do ya mean by 'plain'?"

"When we spend time together, you tend to choose more simple outfits," Rarity clarified. "It has it's own charm, and I'm sure it works perfectly fine for you, but from a personal perspective, I think you could shine more with something a bit more lively, with some pizzazz."

"I think Applejack looks nice whenever I see her," Fluttershy spoke up softly from her spot. She received an appreciative flicker of a smile from the farmer, who seemed to be considering Rarity's words.

"Ah see," the blonde commented at last. "Well, that's somethin' to consider. Spin." Relieved at her friend's acceptance, Rarity let out a quick sigh and cast a glare once more at the mischievous pegasus before daintily twirling the bottle with a flick of her fingers, her kinesis knocking the container with enough force to give it a decent spin, before wobbling to a halt on the other unicorn in the room.

"Twilight," Rarity intoned, smiling at the second shiest girl in the group. "Truth or dare, darling?" The studious girl gulped, glancing around at the others, feeling as well as seeing the five pairs of eyes fixed on her.

"Truth?" she answered uncertainly, choosing the option on a whim. As in the round prior, the bottle-spinner smiled in a way that made the chosen pony immediately regret their choice, a feeling that wasn't diminished by the way Rarity adjusted her posture to get more comfortable.

"Since you're the newest addition to our circle, why don't you tell us about your life in Canterlot?" The lilt in the prim mare's tone made it clear that this was a topic she had been hoping to broach. "It will be nice to hear about something more cultured than one's subjective opinions on the personal choices of close friends." Her eyes flashed over to the room's brash pegasus for only a moment before she recovered her warm and welcoming smile.

"Uh, sure," Twilight agreed. The question was far less intrusive than she'd been expecting, in some regards, but she still didn't know where to begin. Several seconds of stiff silence pervaded the room following her agreement, seeming to grow thicker with every passing second. Eventually, Twilight came out with, "I was born and grew up in Canterlot, along with my family." After that, her brain shut off and she filled the silence with sporadic um's and er's.

"What does your family do?" Applejack asked, offering a placating prompt. "Work from home, somethin' fancy, or somethin' else entirely?"

"My father was the captain of the Royal Guard," the unicorn revealed, her listeners leaning in at her words. "He was for as long as I can remember, even before I was born. He's only just recently retired, actually." She frowned at the thought of her father, remembering his words after the incident in Canterlot. He'd been wrought with worry, not that he showed it, and had been relieved when she'd been put in touch with him. Princess Celestia had sped along the process, easing the former captain's mind and putting an end to his frantic probing of his contacts and all the offices he could reach.

"Oh my, how prestigious," Rarity cooed, her eyes shining in excited wonder. No doubt she was fantasising about a nameless strong and handsome stallion who bore a vague likeness to Twilight, standing tall and proud in glimmering golden armour while his hair whipped behind him in a stiff breeze, his face bearing an expression of focused determination. Eager to take the other unicorn's mind off her dad, Twilight cleared her throat.

"It was a standard," she continued. "It gave me a sense of what I needed to aim for. I suppose it made me realise how important ambition was; I set targets for myself and I refused to let myself fall below them, and I've never stopped trying to tackle new problems." The mare felt herself opening up more readily, the simple honesty of her statements easing her mind and loosening her tongue. "I made sure Spike knew how imperative productivity was." She smiled at that, proud of her sisterly guidance.

"Spike?" Fluttershy asked curiously, speaking quietly enough that Twilight had to look at her for confirmation that the pegasus had spoken at all. "He grew up with you?"

"Well, he's my brother," the unicorn clarified, conscious of all the eyes on her. The ready willingness for conversation ebbed rapidly from her, and she subconsciously drew her legs in closer to herself once more.

"But isn't he a dragon?"

Just like that, Twilight felt the familiar desire to distance herself from others and bury herself in a book or an experiment as the focus of the room and the conversation bore down on her with its full might. The girls were no longer looking at her, but gazing with a passionate interest, seeking answers and information. The unicorn hated how exposed she felt, as though she were sitting naked in a room of ogling strangers. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but it felt like so much longer to her, the intensity of the girls' attention boring into her like a diamond-tipped drill.

"Yes, he is," she replied calmly and collectedly, focusing on her breathing as her foalsitter had taught her many times over. Grabbing the bottle in front of her, she span it hurriedly, keeping her eyes fixed on the rotating container to avoid looking at the others and provoking more questions. It landed on Pinkie, and Twilight glanced at the overexcited mare next to her, anxious about what to expect from her.

"Dare!" Pinkie chose, grinning as she awaited her challenge. The unicorn wracked her brains for something to keep everypony else occupied, the solution hitting her a second later.

"Pinkie, I dare you to keep everyone entertained until I get back from the bathroom." Standing up with a degree of careful urgency, the unicorn stepped her way past the others, feeling as well as hearing Pinkie leap up and draw the attention of the rest of the room. The exuberant girl was impossible to ignore, and Twilight felt confident that she would obediently act the fool and amuse everyone for enough time for Twilight to steel herself and refocus on the assignment. If only she knew what that assignment actually was.

Once out of the room, Twilight began down the hallway, hearing the door click shut automatically and sealing her off from the others. Breathing a sigh of relief, she ambled past other smooth steel doors to identical sleeping quarters, only occasionally hearing a peep of life from behind them. Either the other inhabitants had gone to bed, or the people she could hear were especially rowdy. Either way, she felt out of her element. Even in school, she had always had a reason to focus, to keep to herself or as few others as possible. Here, engaging with people wasn't just a part of the process, a necessity to make sure the task at hand was managed as efficiently as possible. On this ship, and likely on all the others across Equestria's military, it was a part of life, encouraged and readily accepted by most.

The sudden but gentle rasp of the door next to her sliding open yanked her thoughts back into reality, and she skipped a little out of the way in shock. Seeing the familiar green-haired man stepping out, she stopped and relaxed, hearing the rhythmic thump of club music emanating from somewhere inside the room.

"Oh, hey," he greeted her upon noticing her presence. The door closed behind him with a click, and the noise from within was subsequently shut off. "Were you coming to see me?"

"I just happened to be passing by," she confessed. "Not that I'm unhappy to see you, of course." The comment drew an amused snort from the dragon.

"Good to hear," he replied, smirking at her. "I was really wondering for the last sixteen years if you minded me being around, but those fears have been put to bed now that I know you aren't unhappy to see me." Twilight rolled her eyes and smirked back, shaking her head at his sarcasm.

"And you wonder why I don't visit?" The two shared a chuckle, a comfortable silence soon falling between them. "What were you up to?" she asked looking past him to his room's door.

"Playing chess, actually," he informed her, receiving a skeptical raised eyebrow from the unicorn. "We were playing chess," he assured her. "The music came later, after my game."

"How did you do?"

"It was a stalemate." Seeing her patient but expectant expression, he continued, "We both tried to play offensively, and every move we made was a counter or a trap. Every trap was countered, every counter fell into another trap."

"It sounds great," the unicorn encouraged, smiling at his brief recount. "It's been so long since I could just sit down and play."

"I thought about inviting you in," he admitted to her. "But you're busy, I imagine. I didn't want to disrupt you." At his explanation, Twilight's face soured, and she gave a soft, deep huff. Spike winced awkwardly at her reaction. "Is everything okay?"

"You saw what they were like when we met them," the woman answered, regarding him with a displeased mien. "I can't have five minutes of peace without them trying to rope me into some childish game or pester me about my life."

"They sound friendly," Spike commented. Twilight didn't answer, offering no more insight into her thoughts. Frowning, the dragon looked down the corridor in the direction she had been heading. "I don't know why you came out, but I was just heading to the toilet, so-"

"Oh, right," the girl acknowledged, breaking from her meandering musings to conclude what she had actually left to do. "Me too. I'm not used to the ship, though. Do you know where they are?"

"Right this way," he responded, gesturing to the space ahead of them and beginning the walk down the ship's lackluster interior. Twilight started after him, falling in line beside him. The space was much less than she was used to from a lifetime spent in Canterlot, where the halls were wide and ornate, decorated with flags and tapestries and marble and stained glass windows. Everything about this ship boasted of function and efficiency, from its straight, monotonous corridors and smooth design to the dimensions afforded to the people. It was easy to walk two-abreast in the hallway, but three people would prove to be uncomfortable.

A little way along the hallway, the line of doors to personal quarters halted and gave way to a large sliding door. A sign sat above it, the word "Restroom" printed in clinical white letters on its surface. Twilight looked around for a second one, but found nothing. Glancing at the door questioningly, she turned to Spike.

"Everyone uses one room?" She hadn't expected to find the ship this simple and orderly, and without clearly assigned rooms or resources for men and women. Once again, she found herself thinking of Canterlot, and how her years had been so different to the cold, claustrophobic environment of the ship that she was now expected to live and work in.

"It's efficient," he said by way of reply, nodding to her question. "Showers, toilets, everything you need is in there. The military doesn't see any purpose in dividing servicemen." He paused for a moment, considering his words, and then corrected, "Except officers. They follow their own rules." He snorted in amusement.

For her part, the unicorn wrinkled her nose in uncertainty, frowning at this concept. On the one hand, she appreciated the logic and the drive to implement the best system, but on the other, it went against what she knew and the way she was used to things operating. It was a far cry from civilian life, and she wondered for the umpteenth time that day why Celestia had charged her of all people with this task. Spike was an understandable choice, but she wasn't suited for military life or military operations, and the more time she spent stumbling from experience to experience, the more she felt that sentiment being hammered home.

"Are you okay?" Spike asked, breaking the silence that she had lapsed into. He tilted his head, looking at her with concern. Twilight nodded and cleared her throat.

"I'm fine," she said, her hollow words and tepid smile not budging his expression even a half-inch towards something more positive or comfortable.

"You're fine?" he repeated skeptically, regarding her with questioning eyes until she looked away and relented. She sighed for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour and ran her slender fingers through her hair, the blue and pink waterfall parting where she brushed.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she confessed, closing her eyes and looking down as the words left her mouth. "I'm here because princess Celestia told me to, but why?" The woman gestured to the low-ceiling corridor and its smooth, metallic walls, looking around at the monotony of the structure. "I can't understand why I'm being tasked with this, or why we need such a peculiar band of ponies, or what I'm even meant to be doing- where we're going and what we're meant to be achieving when we get there!"

"You don't?" Spike asked, sounding confused, his eyebrows swept upwards in surprise. Twilight blinked at him, taking her turn to be confused.

"Of course not, the princess didn't tell us anything."

"She didn't?" the drake asked slowly, as though trying to make sense of a series of events to which she wasn't privy. Twilight frowned at his reaction.

"What?" she asked him, earning an awkward, sheepish half-smile from the man.

"I thought she'd told you, and that-"

"Spike," the mare interrupted firmly, halting the dragon mid-sentence. Softening her tone just a little, she asked, "What's going on? What do you know?"

"Pandora research station," he revealed, gauging her reaction. "Princess Celestia sent me the details shortly after we boarded the ship, addressed directly to me. I assumed she'd already told you or that she had another way of telling you." His sentence meandered off into guilt-laced murmur, ending in a cough. For her part, Twilight stared at the wall in silence, digesting the information he'd given her.

"This doesn't make sense," she spoke up at last, shaking her head. "Why wouldn't she tell me?" Another question added to her list, she rubbed her eyes before looking back to the young man. "What did the message say?"

"Should I get the data pad?" Spike suggested, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. Receiving a tired nod, he offered her a small, placating smile. "I'm sure she has her reasons," he tried, turning and heading back towards his room.

Twilight watched him for a moment, and then stepped towards the restroom door, tapping at the small button in the centre and letting it beep and whir open for her. Dim lights illuminated the polished interior, revealing a surprisingly large open-plan room for a warship. Then again, she reasoned, her estimates had been off about most else thus far, so she wasn't surprised that she'd wrongly guessed what a warship's bathrooms would look like. It was just another reminder that she didn't belong here.

Twilight found herself surprised the next morning, rather pleasantly, at how prepared the others were to rise early for breakfast; the unicorn herself had always had a military father and a strict schedule at the School for Gifted Unicorns, and so it was natural for her to wake up and get ready in short order. The others, however, she'd expected to have great difficulty, but as it turned out, they were perfectly comfortable in doing so. Pinkie was a baker, she learned, who had to frequently get up to begin early morning preparations for Sugarcube Corner in Ponyville, while Applejack was used to long days on her farm, with early starts and late finishes. Rarity, like Pinkie, had a business to run, and Fluttershy - a self-professed groundskeeper ('of sorts', she kept adding nervously) - kept to a strict schedule in order to look after her animals and tend to the surrounding area. Even Rainbow Dash, the last one to wake up, dragged herself from the showers to the mess hall without complaint, and after as much coffee as the mess sergeant allowed her, she was fully functional once more.

Excusing herself from the other girls, Twilight made her way to the bridge, using the data pad's orientation program to find her way through the corridors without the difficulty she'd hoped the others would have, if it stopped them finding her. Having read Celestia's message, she'd found herself torn between replying and simply letting it go altogether. The princess had a reason for not contacting her, she was sure of it, but what could that possibly be? Perhaps she'd entrusted Spike to pass it on, but if that was the case, then why had she not asked him to do so? Did she believe that he'd naturally let her know? After all, every message to and from the unicorn went through Spike, so it wasn't a leap of faith to believe he'd instinctively tell her, but all the other messages containing important details and orders were addressed to her specifically, or else referenced her; this one made no mention of her at all. Everything about this was discouraging, and in her indecision, her best hope was to work out what was going on through her own determination, and completing this mission, whatever it may be.

The bridge staff turned to look at her as the door whirred open and she stepped inside, a couple sharing glances at her unannounced arrival before turning back to their tasks. The unicorn casually walked past the numerous consoles and electronics, their glowing interfaces casting a soft, warming glow across the deck, partly illuminating the room in lieu of a sun's light that would otherwise pour through the vast glass screen spanning the end of the room. Instead, there was little but inky blackness to greet her sight, and Twilight found herself shivering in spite of any such feeling. The room was temperate, but the void ahead of her seemed to exude absolute nothingness, the vast absence pressing against the thick glass like some obscene, silent mass, lazily rolling around the ship's exterior as one might expect of water - viscous, intangible, listless water. Why was it so beautiful?

"Miss Sparkle, isn't it?" a strong, polite voice asked, severing her detachment from her surroundings. She became aware of the accompanying footfalls, and turned to see the approaching figure. It was a middle-aged man, his slender frame singling him out as a pegasus, and Twilight hazarded a guess that he was in his mid-to-late forties, though she knew better than to ask. He seemed comfortable in his surroundings, clearly at ease aboard a ship and especially so within the bridge, and with good reason, if the stripes on his immaculate navy blue officer's uniform were anything to go by. She nodded in response to his question, and he came to a stop beside her, looking out into the dark abyss, a smile creasing his face. His wistful stare lasted for a moment or two before he proffered his hand, which Twilight took and shook. "I'm captain Brightwork, both in rank and in position. It's not quite as glamorous as captain of the Royal Guard, but it still serves its purpose, I find." Twilight smiled a little nervously at his comment, and he chuckled briefly. "I hope you don't mind my snooping. The princess forwarded me your file, and I take the time to check who comes aboard a ship under my command. It's a habit I've picked up from mentors and predecessors."

"Of course," the mare agreed. "You can never be too careful. Especially not now, with what's been going on." The man nodded slowly at her, offering a pleased half-smile.

"I'm glad you see it the same way I do." Brightwork flicked his eyes back to the endless abyss ahead, his eyes seeming to caress the view lovingly. "It takes some getting used to, but it never fails to amaze. Photos and views from the surface never quite do it justice. It's only when you get up here and just bask in how clean and clear and still it all is...." He paused and took a breath, nodding to himself like a pleased grandfather recounting a fond memory. "That's when you understand it. That's the true experience."

"It's so different to what I imagined," Twilight told him, timidly stepping forwards, clutching the data pad for reassurance. "I knew all about space and its properties, and how vast and empty it is, but...." She stopped again, holding the pad up to her chest in a mixture of awe and apprehension. Brightwork listened to her attentively, scratching momentarily at his cropped gunmetal hair before folding his hands behind his back.

"I remember the first time I stepped on a ship," he recounted. The unicorn listened, but didn't tear her gaze away from the view, the duo looking out into the nothingness together. "My mother was a physician and my father was a structural engineer. An opportunity came up for the both of them, and it seemed perfect, so they accepted a new life among the stars. All the preliminary work for the colonisation had already been done - bio-surveyance, administrative and legal sign-offs, everything they needed. Soon, they had a bustling town nestled onto the surface of Canterdonia, the newest addition to the Royal Federation of Equestria. A year after they first arrived, I was born, and that's just about the most interesting thing I can tell you about my childhood. I grew up on a frontier planet, spending long periods of time under an onyx canopy unspoiled by anything save for the shimmer of the distant stars. Some of those were planets, I learned, hosting all forms of life. Pegasi, like myself and my father, unicorns, like my mother, earth ponies, like some of my friends, and that was just the ponies - there were mystical zebras, and reclusive dragons, and avaricious griffons, all living their lives on those glimmering white specks, and between and beyond. As the land became more and more hospitable, and civilsation spread outwards and onwards, I started to lose sight of the night sky. The stars weren't so bright, always tainted by an ever encroaching orange band on the horizon, and I resolved to go and see the stars, if they were determined to leave me. On my fifteenth birthday, I signed up with the colonial administration, served the mandatory year as local law enforcement, and then off I left, ready to go on this grand adventure.

"I knew the navy would be for me - after fifteen full years in one place, travelling was no concern to me. It was what I craved, in fact. I couldn't stop grinning as we boarded the shuttle, and when I arrived on that ship-" He shook his head and looked over at the young women, still transfixed by the sight. "I couldn't tear myself away from the windows. My home was a great ball of rock and ice, and it looked so beautiful from up high; winding glaciers and rivers, deep-cut valleys, frosty forests, swirling clouds and storms in the northernmost regions, and massive patches of moorland slashed across the centre. It was like a perfect sculpture. So was the next planet, Sangius IV. It reminded me of a satsuma, at first, except that one side glowed enchantingly in the sun and the other brooded in the shadows, waiting for its turn. A dozen worlds later, we ended up at New Trottingham, a waterworld with archipelagos scattered across its surface like acne, and I loved it no less. The novelty hadn't worn off. Some recruits came aboard and moped as we left their homeworld, some seemed pleased to be gone, and that was the first time that I realised just how much my own life was one of many billions in this galaxy. My home wasn't separate from all those others I'd imagined and seen, just one of many, all of them as beautiful and wondrous as my own, like paintings on a vast, dark canvas.

"For my first leave, I visited Equestria. I made a point of going to Asthenia, seeing the sun-bleached temples and attending the museums showing off ancient sets of blackened armour, and then I headed to Eurus. I watched several of the plays I'd read and studied in Canterdonia, and somehow they were so much more magical for having been performed, from the lord who murdered his way to becoming king at the behest of a prophecy, to a particularly unflattering representation of an earth pony's country wife, there was just so much to witness. So much culture for a planet that had developed over thousands of years that I could finally see after fifteen years of imagining. That night, I sat outside and stared up at the stars again, and I saw how beautiful they still were. It wasn't the same sky, or the same pattern of stars, but it was still all the same sight. I saw how ponies had left Equestria to explore the stars, just as I'd left to do the same. We were pushed by that same image, and the same dreams, I'm sure of it. When I stepped back on the ship, I felt just as excited as I had the first time. It was all the same, always more out there for me to witness and enjoy, and no matter what else changes - my colleagues, my orders, my age, my ship, my rank - I always smile when I set out into the wild black yonder. I get the feeling that it'll be the same for you, Miss Sparkle; no matter where you visit, what you do, or who you do it with, one thing will never change - you'll always have more to experience and discover, and that is one of the simplest and best joys in life."

The unicorn finally broke her stare, turning to the officer. He was smiling kindly at her. "We've had different lives," she answered back. "Two different experiences."

"There's a lot of difference in the world," he replied. "Different perspectives, peoples, cultures and so on. I've already told you as much. But the one thing that never changes is possibility. What's out there is endless, and there's not one person that can claim to have experienced it all. I'll continue to experience new and exciting things each and every day, and so shall you." The unicorn blinked at him.

"Why are you-"

"Telling you all this?" he finished, guessing her line of thought. "Because of all the things that change, the sheer variety of experience open to us doesn't. I fell in love with seeing all that the universe had to offer, or as much of it as I physically could, and I recognised as soon as I saw you how you felt. That's the first step." The accuracy of his statement hit Twilight with a resounding realisation, and she fell into silence. Brightwork nodded knowingly at her, his voice growing softer as he told her, "I don't know what you'll go on to do, but I know that you have a great journey ahead of you, whatever it may be. You'll experience many great and new things, and, from the nostalgic pony to the new blood, I sincerely hope you recognise how wonderful it is when you do." After he finished, Twilight swallowed and turned slowly to look back into the darkness outside. Suddenly, inexplicably, it didn't feel so cold and empty.

"When will we be there?" Twilight asked eventually, breaking the comfortable silence. The captain gestured for her to follow him, leading her away from the glass and over to a flat, waist-high projector. Waving his hand over the luminous display, he summoned up a holographic image, expanding it with a sweeping motion and dragging it over for the unicorn to view.

"We have essentially arrived," he explained, pointing to a dark object barely discernible from the background. "We're only several thousand kilometres away." The unicorn looked at him in surprise.

"So far away?" she asked. The captain smiled knowingly.

"Distances always catch people out in space," he commented. "It's something else you have to adjust to."

"I-I know," the woman stammered, flustered at having been caught off-guard. "At least, I usually do. I know all about cosmic distances and travel, but I just didn't realise-" She sighed, giving a defeated chuckle. "It's something I need to adjust to," she conceded. The captain smiled lightly at her flustered countenance and turned to one of the other crewmen.

"Any response yet?" he asked, receiving a prompt shake of the head and a 'no sir'. The captain adjusted his stance, visibly displeased with the lack of results from his efforts. "Keep trying," the man commanded. "I want communication up as soon as possible." He frowned as he turned back to the holoprojection. "It shouldn't be taking this long to make contact."

"Have you accounted for delay?" Twilight asked, unable to prevent herself. "Even travelling at light speed, EM frequencies won't be received for several minutes even at short distances."

"We have," he assured her, nodding to her question. "We hailed them half an hour ago, and still no response. At this point, they should have responded, but there's been nothing at all, not even a garbled transmission. They're radio silent." His frown deepened, and the unicorn felt his confusion spreading to her.

"You'd think with over a thousand people aboard, somepony would pick up the phone," she commented, earning a small snort from the captain.

"You'd think," he agreed. "Hopefully, their comm is busted, and that's that." His eyes peered intently at the holographic representation shimmering before him. "Some interference from space debris or solar radiation or something inane like that. I'd even be happy with them all being on break." Something in his tone sent an uneasy shiver through the unicorn, and Twilight blinked at him.

"You hope?" she asked, waiting for reassurance. Instead, he answered by way of a nod before looking out of the window towards their destination, still invisible to the naked eye. Swallowing her doubt, Twilight straightened up a little. "As soon as I'm aboard, I'll be able to solve whatever problem they're having. We'll have communications back up within an hour, at most." The captain raised an eyebrow questioningly, and she smiled a shy little smile. "I needed a hobby, and electrical engineering fit my timetable."

"Impressive," Brightwork commented. "That wasn't mentioned on your file. I would have thought that something as noteworthy as taking another class, an intensive one at that, to fill out your timetable would have been noticed."

"I'm self-taught," the unicorn informed him, equal parts proud and self-conscious. "I found some textbooks in the academy library and worked through them whenever I had spare time." The captain regarded her with an air of admiration as he replaced the display of the station with a command interface, his hands sweeping across the display and sending orders this way and that.

"You truly are something, Miss Sparkle," he spoke at last, turning his full attention to her. "We'll let you and your friends deal with the situation. I can imagine that between the six of you, you'll truly live up to your claims." Humour crept into his tone as he added, "It tends to get boring very quickly on the bridge, so I hope you do manage to stick to your schedule. As much as I love the stars, there's not much in the way of variety when it comes to the void."

"The six of us?" the mare queried, subconsciously plotting a course back to Spike's room on her data pad. He'd be a useful helping hand, and she wanted him close by as often as possible for this assignment.

"Yourself and your five friends," Brightwork reiterated, shutting down the projection entirely. "I try to avoid questioning superiors about their choices, and you've surprised me as it is, so I won't ask about the baker or the fashion designer. Not the sort of people I'd choose for this mission, but I don't suppose they were chosen for those qualities."

"Actually, I was thinking of taking just one other person," the unicorn revealed, wondering for herself just why Celestia had opted to recruit the eclectic assortment for what she assumed was a retrieval of government property. "Just me and a trusted assistant." Her response earned a curious, pensive stare from the captain, the man staying silent for several long seconds before chipping in.

"I can understand why you might have misconceptions about the five newcomers," he told her. "They're new, untrained, untested, and it's not apparent as to why they were selected. I have my doubts too, if I'm allowed to be honest. But have you stopped to ask why you were selected? How strange that is?" His words prompted Twilight to answer, but he moved on to intercept her point before she could make it. "You're a capable woman, Miss Sparkle, and I'm not doubting your ability or your talents, but there are surely much more suitable people out there for this mission; trained soldiers, skilled technicians, veterans of every conceivable stripe, but the princess chose you, and not out of a sense of favour or personal investment, I'd imagine." Folding his arms behind his back once more, Brightwork paced slowly towards her. "As I said before, there's always something new out there to learn and experience. These people are here for a reason, and if I were you, I'd bring them along. It'll probably be the best chance to find out what we're doing out here."

"You really think they're that important?" the woman asked hesitantly. "I don't mistrust the princess, but...." She stopped, trying to pin down her discomfort with the situation. "Why work with unknowns to figure out what is going on? That's an added danger. It makes more sense to stick to what we understand and work with that instead."

"We learn through action and consequence," Brightwork pointed out. "You're a scientific sort, you can understand that. Progress doesn't happen through inaction, or 'playing it safe'. We have our tools, we need to use them. As far as I can see, it's nothing more complicated than a test."

"A....test?"

"You've been given your materials and asked to produce a particular outcome. To me, that sounds very much like an assessment of sorts. If you have leftovers by the end, then you've probably missed a step, and that usually means reduced quality." Stopping in front of her, he tilted his head. "I won't tell you what to do, or who to take. My job is to captain this ship, not to dictate the lives of everyone I meet. I do urge you to make your decisions with everything in mind, however, and for the right reasons. I understand wanting your brother nearby, and mistrusting strangers, but is that really the best rationale?" The thought gave the unicorn pause, and she frowned in displeasure. "Just consider it personal advice from a person with plenty of time to think on things, and a little experience to go along with all that thinking."

"I'll take them all," she relented after several minutes of thought, reluctantly entering a new destination onto her data pad's orientation program. Brightwork seemed content with her choice.

"That seems like a good idea to me," he weighed in, casting a glance out of the window to the station far off in the inky blackness. "You can't have too many friends in the unknown, and I don't think we know even half as much as we should about this situation."

Although the fitting and the securing had been done before they'd stepped onto the shuttle, the clicking of equipment slotting into place and the clunking of something being tapped or tested persisted as they approached the station itself. Spike couldn't blame any of them; it was the first time they'd been deployed properly, and the itching that came with sitting around doing nothing before they disembarked was maddening. He, like the others, kept fiddling with his boots and armour, making sure it was all tied and fastened in the right places, and that it wouldn't come undone at the wrong moment, or that his weapon had the safety set to on. In such an enclosed space, a misfire would be beyond inconvenient.

EA-2RS carbine, he repeated to himself in his head, turning the weapon over in his hands. 5.5mm rounds, bullpup design, box magazine. Foregrip installed in front of the handguard, reflex sight fitted onto the rail. He checked again, making sure the sight was correctly zeroed. The carbon-fibre body felt light as he lifted the butt to his shoulder, resting it in place and peering down the rail. Satisfied that everything was as it should be, he patted down his uniform, feeling it over for oddities. Guardian combat armour, durable enough to withstand low-calibre rifle rounds, and flexible enough to allow a full range of movement. He'd been instructed and drilled time and time again in basic training on how to fit the light armour, along with a variety of others, and now wearing only the torso of the protective gear, he felt somewhat exposed. It fit comfortably and was unobtrusive and lightweight, consisting of a smooth olive ceramic plating which covered the front and back of his torso, offering the most important parts of his body the protection he might need in close quarters from low-calibre weapons with a quick fire rate. It was secured at his waist by a buckle and clasp. Underneath, the grey battle dress of the Equestrian land forces showed the rest of him as unprotected, save for the hard boiled leather boots.

"Okay, we're in," Rumble announced, his statement supplemented with a minute bump as the craft touched down. He'd piloted them for the twenty minute journey, failing time and time again to contact the station as they drew close. It was Featherweight who had noticed how inactive it looked. Deserted, almost. It was at that point that the group had started nervously checking their arms and armour, silently wondering if they'd properly equipped themselves for whatever they were about to get into, but sharing the sentiment through brief eye contact as they fiddled. Tapping the command to open the Sky Chariot's ramp, Rumble twisted from the seat and grabbed his own rifle, turning to face the exit as the hanger came into view. Spike used the mechanical whining to cover the noise of him flicking his safety off, hearing in the same instant several other identical clicks from behind him.

The group kept their weapons pointed down as they exited the shuttle into the dark, dreary hanger, wary but without reason to burst in with guns and voices raised. They couldn't afford to let panic settle in, especially not with the civilian elements within their group. That was also something Spike had been taught; when escorting, protecting, guarding or interacting with non-military personnel, the most important thing was to remember that they weren't military. They didn't have the training, the protection, or the ability that he could expect from his fellow soldiers, and so any brash and unnecessary action could cost him the lives of said civilians and even his comrades.

"Where is everypony?" Twilight asked no one in particular, looking around at the lightless chamber. Even as their eyes adjusted, it remained unwelcoming, the dull metal of the room reluctantly reflecting a few watts of some unseen lightbulb. A station like this should've been illuminated by powerful industrial lights and divided into bays by bright landing markers. Even the emergency lighting would have been stronger than the dim, ubiquitous gloom that had settled. It was as though the power had simply deserted the station, along with everyone stationed there. There was just a deep, uncomfortable absence.

"Could it be-" Spike suggested, pausing dramatically to turn his head with an exaggerated shiver of fear to address Twilight just behind him. "-zombies?" He heard an amused snort from Pipsqueak which set off some other titters among the group, an ample result to supplement the unicorn's exasperated frown.

"Not very likely," she answered him back, fixing him with a disapproving deadpan look. The drake couldn't help but smirk to himself, resisting the urge to respond right away. After a few seconds of silence, when everypony had settled down from his previous quip, he dropped the next line.

"Not likely, but....possible?" He opted to ignore her irritated glare. No need to look when he could feel her eyes burning into his back and imagine her adorable pout.

"Does it have to be so dark?" Fluttershy asked in a nervous whisper, the fact that she could be heard by the entire group a testament to just how eerily silent the station was. "Shouldn't there be lights? Or somepony else?"

"I have to agree," Rarity chipped in, her voice lacking its usual enthusiastic luster. "The decorum here is simply inexcusable. I dread to think how much worse it might be if we could actually see the room to any decent standard."

"There's a light over there," Featherweight chimed in, pointing over to the far side of the hanger. Peering across the room, the others could just about make out the faint smear of red against the wall. "Could be a door, could be a map, could be nothing at all."

"It could be something incredibly dangerous," Fluttershy worried, her form shaking in the darkness. Spike heard Twilight sigh beside him, taking confident steps towards the other side of the chamber.

"We don't know what it is, and we should find out," the unicorn decided, marching forward while the rest of the group looked to each other for some consensus on what should be done. Rainbow was the next to follow, striding after Twilight, which prompted the others to assent to the course of action. Truffle fumbled around his belt for a while before he found a torch, clicking it on to illuminate the way ahead. With their path slightly better lit, the group made quick headway, arriving a minute later at the miniature source of light.

"It's a door," Rumble announced, kneeling down and setting his carbine to the side. Featherweight nodded happily to himself, the smallest crack of a pleased smirk appearing on his face. "The lock for it, anyway. It's sealed up tight."

"You can unlock it though, right?" Spike asked, the red hologram seeming impassable to him. All he could understand was the symbol of a red lock firmly clicked in place, surrounded by a solid circle.

"I don't know, someone went through a lot of trouble to seal it down," the pegasus responded, his finger tracing the shape of the lock. "I'd feel pretty bad undoing their hard work."

"So we've found something you can't do?" Pipsqueak challenged him in a teasing tone. Rumble just scoffed, his hands dancing over the hologram with startling ease and efficiency.

"Of course I can do it. I just wanted you to know how much work I'm putting in for this. Techs don't always get the credit they're due, do they?"

"Get on with it," Pipsqueak replied, presumably rolling his eyes at his friend's metaphorical muscle-flexing.

"Yes, get on with it," Spike added, smirking in Pipsqueak's direction.

"Get on with it," Featherweight and Truffle chorused, earning a tut from Rumble before he lapsed into silence, focusing on his motions and gestures, each swish of his fingers and hands coaxing a beep from the door and a subtle shift in the holographic display, the circle gradually pulling apart. Twilight stepped closer to watch what he was doing, undoubtedly intrigued by the pegasus' ability. Not fifteen seconds had passed before, with a final tap, the display turned blue, and the symbol of the lock switched to from closed to open. Rumble gave a satisfied nod at his work and fetched his carbine before pressing his hand to the circle, cycling the door. Standing back up, he waited patiently as it slid open, creaking a little from some unseen strain.

"Should it be makin' that noise?" Applejack asked cautiously, watching the great metal slab slide apart with a modicum of difficulty. "Seems like it's stuck on something."

"Or something's stuck to it," Truffle suggested, pointing the beam of the torch through the gap. On the other side, a long grey metal corridor stretched away from them, as dark as the hanger with only a fraction of the space. Even looking into the passageway evoked a sense of claustrophobia. When the door opened fully, silence returned in full force. Truffle swept the beam left and right, the light falling across the walls and illuminating a slender shape that trailed across the metallic sides of the corridor, and further up. Several gasps went up from the group as the earth pony pointed their light source up at the ceiling.

"Wiring?" Rumble asked, peering in confusion at the winding black tubes hanging from the low-vaulted ceiling. "Sloppy maintenance caused the blackout?"

"Not wiring," Featherweight corrected, stepping a little closer. "Vines." His announcement caused a murmur of confusion to spread through the group.

"The door was active," Pipsqueak realised aloud. "There's no way that there's a total power cut. Something's constricting power flow." He glanced at the passage ahead, the wiry vines visibly running along the entirety of the upper and middle surfaces of the corridor. A little way past the door, faint hues of blue reflected in the torchlight, patches coating the floor and walls at irregular intervals. "Are those...flowers?"

A purple glow diverted the group's attention towards Twilight, who had sparked a ball of energy in her hand. Holding it up high, she sent it floating daintily down the corridor, bobbing lightly as it travelled, casting its radiance across the mysterious growth and the scarce metal of the wall behind it. At a small distance down, it stopped, hovering silently in the air and illuminating the previously obfuscated space. Shadows melted away from the surfaces, skulking just out of sight, clinging to whatever cover they could find.

"So, are we going?" Rainbow spoke up, looking from person to person. "We've been staring at this thing for about a minute now. Nothing's gonna get done from us just looking." She took a step forward, but was beaten to it by Pinkie, who seamlessly pushed past all of them, striding overly joyfully into the corridor. Rainbow quickly caught up, followed by a surprisingly resolute Fluttershy, and then the ranks broke completely, the mares taking confident steps into the previously dark space. With the women flouting their formation, the men looked at one another and set forward too, yet again following the people they were meant to be escorting.

Just under the portable light source the gaggle of girls had stopped, all in various stages of ogling the growths plastering the hall. Pinkie had already plucked a flower from the wall and mashed it against her nose, inhaling deeply and letting a dopey grin fall across her face. Turning to Fluttershy, she shoved it towards the meek mare, giving her little choice but to sniff it. Like the other pink haired-girl, the pegasus smiled happily and nodded, breathing in once more before Pinkie snatched it away again and showed it off to the others. Twilight cast a disapproving glance at the energetic girl's antics, but focused herself on the flowers, even brushing a couple of fingers across the petals.

"Flowers?" Spike asked her, stopping to check what she made of the situation. He received a nod as she continued to rub the strange but innocuous flora between her fingers. "Can you identify it?" The unicorn shook her head, not looking at him to respond.

"I'm no botanist, but there doesn't seem to be anything 'alien' about them," Twilight summarised. "They have all the same qualities as you'd expect of any other plant, although too many of these qualities overlap. It seems to be a vine, but the presence of flowers suggests pollen rather than growth as a means of reproduction and development." She fell silent and scrunched her face in thought.

"It might be an adaptive plant," a hushed voice suggested. Fluttershy stepped forward almost apologetically, having torn herself away from the other women, who were toying with the flower Pinkie had plucked. "Vines operate almost in opposition to leaved flora, but this one has both. It's possible that it utilises leaves and petals to thrive in environments with plentiful sunlight and water, in order to maximise photosynthesis, while the vines are used in darker biomes to ensure survival when these resources are lacking." At Twilight and Spike's surprised looks, she smiled coyly and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. "I enjoy gardening, and studied botany for my medical training."

"Medical training?" Twilight asked, to which the pegasus nodded, her face scrunching cutely before she sneezed daintily, blushing and wiping her face. The other two waited patiently as she wiped her hands and face, trying to remove any pollen.

"It might seem unlikely for somepony like me, but I actually registered for the medical corps when I was sixteen," she revealed. "I wanted to help other ponies, and tough, demanding jobs like the military seemed like the place where most people would suffer injuries. I scored well in the exams and I enjoyed the training, but...well, you can probably tell I'm not exactly a people person." She sighed sadly. "I decided it wasn't for me, but I never lost the love for medicine. Now, I put it to use helping the animals of Equestria." A happy smile graced her face.

"Hey, you there! We're friendly! Come out, we need help!"

Spike twirled around first, instinctively responding to Rumble's voice. He and Featherweight were holding their guns towards the floor, but their grips were rigid and firm, ready to snap it to attention at a moment's notice, and they stood with one leg slightly forward, prepared to spring into action or dive in any which direction. The pegasi were looking towards the end of the corridor, their eyes picking out a shape that Spike himself couldn't quite see. It was only upon joining the other two, and when the rest of his fireteam had pulled up beside and behind him, that he caught the outline of something ahead.

"We're not here to hurt you," Pipsqueak assured whatever it was. "We were scheduled to come aboard the station, and we found it like this. Can you tell us what happened?" He waited for the presence to respond for several seconds, his eyes flicking back and forth as he tried to catch sight of it. "Are you hurt? We-"

"Beware! Beware, you pony folk!"

Behind them, Spike heard the women shift at the heavily accented voice, as well as it's urgent tone. He felt himself grow uneasy at the sudden address.

"Those leaves of blue are not a joke!" A portion of the shadow moved, and hurried footsteps carried down the hall to them as the figure retreated away from them, calling out a final time, "Beware! Beware!" The words echoed briefly before falling silent, leaving them alone again. The ponies continued the silence for a few moments, confused by the encounter.

"Well, that was some creepy mumbo-jumbo," Applejack announced, snapping the group back to the present. At the sound of her voice the others murmured their thoughts too.

"Was that supposed to scare us?" Rainbow scoffed, glancing around to garner the other's opinions. As the others piled on their contributions, the men relaxed their postures, turning to discuss the next course of action.

"We need to move," Pipsqueak suggested, keeping his voice low and casting glances over his shoulder periodically. "I'm getting a queer vibe from all this. We find the security centre, get whatever we need, and shift it."

"I second that plan," Rumble agreed, cracking his fingers. "In and out. They're always the best plans. At this point, I don't even know if we're gonna get whatever it is we want, but the sooner we get somewhere, the sooner we find out, and the sooner we leave." With the other's assenting the plan, they motioned for the civilians to advance.

"Twilight, send the light up front," Spike told the unicorn, the ball of energy whizzing over their heads a second later. He stepped forward to follow it, leaving Pipsqueak and Truffle to guard the front of their formation, while Featherweight and Rumble covered the back. Together, they edged their way further into the station, following the purple hue shining ahead, throwing out its steady pulse like a beacon.

In short time they arrived at a junction. There was no sign of the figure who'd spoken to them earlier; whoever it was had disappeared without a trace. Glancing down the three other routes, the drake bit his lip in concentration as the others pulled up behind him, pointing their carbines to cover the corridors. In every direction, the strange growth hugged the walls and ceilings, growing so thick in some places that it had practically replaced the metal panelling. At the very edges of the orb's range, he could barely make out the vines spilled across the floor.

"Up ahead," Twilight determined, looking up from her data pad. "If we head straight, take a right in five hundred metres, follow the main hallways along for several hundred metres, and then take another right, we'll find ourselves in the customs and cataloguing department." An ominous metallic creak followed her words, underpinned by a dull thump in the distance.

"No need to tarry," Pipsqueak piped in, the group unanimously agreeing and starting forwards along the designated route. The orb of light followed them, hovering above the travelling pack to throw its illumination across the plant-infested path. The soldiers still pulled out their flashlights, casting cones of bright, clear light ahead and behind them.

Spike set a normal pace, though it felt both frantic and cautious to him. He could feel the others' tension, and instinctively glanced behind every so often to check that they were still there. Without fail, Pip and Rumble were no more than a metre behind, and he felt slightly ashamed for needing to look. Their nods of encouragement, however, told him that they knew exactly how he was feeling.

As Twilight had informed them, there was a right turn after their gradual shuffle through the dark corridor, leading to a larger hallway, maybe twice the size of the one they had just exited. The excess space did nothing to make the drake more comfortable. The plants were plastered to the walls in this part of the station too, thicker and more layered than the spaces they had previously encountered, and as they advanced, it became apparent that they were moving towards a far more overrun area of the research station. Every now and then, somepony would gasp, accusing one of the vines of shifting, but when the others turned to look, shining their lights accusingly at the tendril in question, it remained inanimate. It didn't become less creepy after the fifth time.

It could have been thirty minutes, an hour, or several hours by the time they took the final turn into the customs and cataloguing section, but Spike was relieved that they'd arrived at their destination. The door had opened lethargically, and they'd stepped through impatiently to the other side. They found themselves in oval room, with glass walls separating individual room-sized cubicles. Inside each, it looked like there were a variety of desks, tables, and scientific and electronic equipment, though all of it looked like it was inactive. Thankfully, the growth was moderate in here, leaving only certain patches of the wall to be decorated in the twisting tendrils.

"Five stations," Featherweight noted, his eyes picking out the open doorways leading into each cubicle. "Eleven of us." He had the tact to not point out that less than half of that number were trained combat personnel, and the others silently understood.

"Two to each, one lookout?" Pipsqueak suggested, earning a general agreement. "I'll take Rarity and cover that one." He nodded towards the furthest cubicle, and smiled at the purple-haired unicorn. She was hesitant, but after he approached her and offered a few words of encouragement, she stepped forward.

"Always the regal ones," the dragon whispered to him teasingly as the earth pony passed by. The chestnut-haired man tried and failed to suppress his smirk.

"Shut it, mate."

Spike felt a little easier after the exchange, the mood somewhat lighter, though he didn't take his eyes away from the first pair until they disappeared into the glass enclosure, with the earth pony sweeping his light across the disused surfaces within. He knew it was irrational, especially given the current situation, but a subtle, pernicious prickling scratched at the back of his mind at the sight of them. Shaking his head, the drake returned to the task at hand, ignoring the green monster demanding his attention.

Featherweight, being the most observant of the group, decided to stand watch, while Rumble took Rainbow Dash and Applejack to search his cubicle. Between them, it wasn't apparent who was the muscle for who. Truffle agreed to work with Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie, a seemingly incompatible combination that only the stoic earth pony could possibly have the patience to work with. That left Spike with Twilight, which provided him a great degree of comfort.

The light burned away the darkness inside the room, banishing the oppressive shadows wherever it turned. With a few flicks of his wrist, the dragon had ensured that nothing inside posed a danger to them. The room, apart from having fallen victim to overgrowth, was devoid of any participants.

At least, that was what he'd thought, until he stepped inside. A glint caught the drake's eye, and he turned his torch to a particularly dark patch on the wall. He halted mid-step, his breath caught in his throat and his eyes widening in shock. Something was attached to the wall, vaguely equine.

And it was staring at him. Bright, white eyes burned from inside a nest of the vines, strapping the creature to the wall. The drake pushed an arm out behind him, making contact with Twilight's torso.

"Get out," he hissed to her urgently, stepping back a little. He kept eye contact with the creature, not daring to look away for a second. The mare behind him gasped as she realised what he had seen, and she took a large, slow step backwards. Inch by careful inch, Spike raised his carbine, resisting the urge to snap it into place and riddle the thing with bullets. He was shaking, but he knew that he couldn't miss, not when the barrel was aimed directly at its chest. His finger made contact with the trigger, and-

A sudden sharp rattle made him jump, and he spun around to view the source of the noise. Twilight screamed shrilly. The drake turned on the spot, planting his feet and taking aim at the monstrosity on the wall, while a grating, grinding sound echoed through the room. Before he could pull the trigger, brightness flooded the room, forcing him to avert his eyes.

"Easy now, easy!" Applejack called out. Everypony in the room turned to look at her. "Ah jus' found the generator, that's all. No need to worry." The drake blinked and recentred his view on the wall, but found the figure to have not moved. Featherweight came over to him, alternating between looking at the dragon and Twilight.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder. Spike nodded towards the wall. The pegasus looked over, blinked, and looked back at the green-haired soldier. "The vines? The suit in the vines? What?"

"Suit?" Spike asked, earning a nod from the eagle-eyed man.

"Yeah, suit. It looks like a hazmat suit or something, probably used to handle dangerous or unknown materials when they're brought in to be registered." Featherwieght peered at the dragon curiously. "Are you really alright?"

"Never been better," the drake remarked as he stood up, stepping back inside the now well-lit room to approach the 'creature'. The body was a dark yellow smooth impermeable fabric, apparently designed to keep the wearer safe from new chemicals and materials that they might have to deal with. The hood was almost featureless, covering as much as possible with only a black filter over the mouth and two glass eye slots. Curiously, Spike flashed his flashlight at the glass, receiving a glare as the light was reflected back at him. He winced in awkward realisation.

"If you could not scare me like that again," Twilight huffed from behind him, earning a sheepish laugh from the man. She shook her head and chortled, turning to observe the room itself. Now that the power had been restored, the computers and electronic equipment had booted back up, activating in the presence of an electric current. The unicorn impatiently pulled the vines out of the way, wincing as she pricked herself. She responded by crushing the offending tube in her kinesis and peeling it away from the screen it had covered. When Spike wandered over, she handed the task of going through the files to him, attracted to some lab equipment that was sitting on a desk on by the glass wall.

A few quick searches turned up little of interest. There were hundreds of journal entries, some written and some videoed, and there was a massive cache of items that had been checked in for study, but that left a lot of ground to cover. Scratching his chin, the drake excluded all search results before the date of the attack on Canterlot. From there, he slogged through the remaining entries, trying to find some mention of-

"If you don't want us to retain them for study, why exactly did you bring them here?" One of the logs opened up with a man talking off-screen, apparently having started recording midway through the conversation. The image showed a fully armoured figure, the protective scales a deep red, except for the orange shoulder, elbow, and knee plates. A utility belt was fasted around its waist, an empty holster resting against the right leg. Despite being able to come aboard fully covered, he was stripped of any weapons.

"I want to know what they are and what they do," the red individual spoke, his voice distorted into a deep, gravelly growl by his cold, hard helmet. The eyeholes were accompanied by what looked a like a steel-painted, tooth-borne, sneering mouth, giving the impression of a leering grin. "I can't sell them on if I don't know how much I can ask for them, can I? And I can't know what I can ask for them if I don't know what they are or what they can do." Spike's eyes widened in recognition.

It was the lone figure from the rooftop in Canterlot.

"And I can't give you an answer with any degree of accuracy without running some tests on them," the first voice responded in a tone one would use to explain a simple concept to a young child. "I really can't help you unless you cooperate here."

"I don't have the time to have them studied. I need an answer, and I need one now. If you can't do that, then tell me and stop wasting my time."

"I'm sorry, I can't help you."

"Then we have nothing more to discuss." He turned around and stepped towards the cubicle's exit, the glass doors sliding open with a light hiss as he approached. Before he stepped out, the figure paused and turned to face the unseen interlocutor. "Actually, there is one more thing before I leave." He pointed a metallic, scaled finger at the camera. In spite of himself, Spike felt a shiver run down his spine, as though he'd been caught spying. "I don't want any of this recorded. No registration, no personal journal, and certainly not the video you're trying to record right now."

"I need to record all items of interest that enter into the department," the other man informed him, swallowing audibly. "It's a legal requirement under-"

"I don't care," the armoured man interrupted, taking a heavy step forward which made the camera shake. "Not any record of me being here is going to exist in twenty four hours, okay? I'll know if you keep anything, because if you do, certain other people are going know about it. If anyone turns up on my doorstep, there'll only be one way they could've found me. So if anyone comes looking for me, I'll come looking for you. Is. That. Clear?" Three seconds passed in silence.

"Leave, please, or I will call security."

"You'll do nothing. If you do, I'll have to bring you along with me, give you a personal tour of Drachstern." He crossed his arms slowly and deliberately, tilting his head to regard the man off-screen. "Tell me, did you know that lava is so dense that a person won't sink below the surface? That the body will simply burn, shrivel, and blister in full view of whoever happens to be looking?" He let the rhetorical question permeate the room for several long seconds. "Well, there are an awful lot of volcanoes on Drachstern. Think on what I've said." Without further comment, the red man left the room, turning and striding out without a care. Long after the thudding footsteps had receded, the heavy breathing from off-camera continued.

"I don't get paid enough risk my life," the unseen man cursed, cutting the footage off. Spike looked up from the screen.

"Twilight," he called out, attracting the mare's attention. "I know where we need to go." The woman looked surprised, but beamed at his success. "It's a place called 'Drachstern', I think." He nodded to Featherweight, who headed over to collect the group back together. Returning his attention to Twilight, he went to ask her to download the video file, but found her already connecting her data pad to the computer.

"I'm the one who taught you to always keep a backup, remember?" she asked, seeing his expression. He giggled at her smug response and readjusted his grip on his carbine.

"And done," the woman announced, clearly pleased with herself. "Now we can leave this station behind. I don't know about you, but whatever went on here is far beyond what we're meant to be doing."

"I don't know if anyone is ever going to hear this."

The dragon and the unicorn turned back to the screen. The next video log had played automatically, throwing up an image of a young man grimacing at the camera. He was doubled over, clutching his stomach as though in pain. Casting a glance at each other, Twilight and Spike silently agreed to continue watching. The dragon recognised the voice as belonging to the unseen person in the other recording he'd just watched.

"To be honest, I'm not even sure if I want anyone to ever hear this. What's happened on Pandora..." He sighed plaintively, shaking his head. "It won't matter, either way. I can't make anyone find this log, and I can't keep anyone from finding it. Either they do, or they don't, and it won't affect me anyway, not after I'm gone. All I can do is explain what happened and why it happened, and maybe do something to stop it. Yeah, that's all I can really do. If I ramble, please be patient. This is as much about confessing as it is trying to help any official investigation or whatever you're doing with this recording." Sweeping a shaky hand across his trimmed auburn hair, the man gathered his thoughts.

"First of all, my name is Blowtorch, and I'm a lab assistant at Pandora research facility. My job was to handle the practical elements of the experiments on hazardous or newly acquired samples. What that usually meant was collating results and data from standard tests run on exotic acquisitions. In layman's terms, I did the run of the mill stuff on the exciting new toys. Well, that was a normal day for me, anyway. About three weeks ago, we imported this weird new plant, and it was brought on board the station. My brief said that it had 'anomalous qualities', and that I needed to put it through a variety of checks. That should've taken at least a month, except it didn't. No matter what conditions we put it under, it had always grown within a day. We'd check, reset the test, leave it for a day, and consistently, it'd be bursting to get out by the time we came back.

"I passed on the information and the samples, and a couple of days later, I was called in to a briefing. Apparently, this plant, or vine, or whatever it was supposed to be, had mutagenic qualities. We didn't know how, but we knew that it could. A decision was made to import more, and no one really said no." Blowtorch closed his eyes and hung his head for a moment, mumbling something that might've been a curse, before looking up to face the camera again, his expression laced with remorse.

"You've got to understand; the possibilities, the opportunities, they excited us. I played the voice of caution for a while, but the data was undeniable. If we could understand how it worked, we could put that knowledge to use in unimaginable ways. Advanced gene therapy to cure terminal illnesses, immunisation against every disease we could ever encounter, and maybe even halt death in its entirety. These were the ideas we had, if only we could understand how it worked. We could have isolated the elements we needed, or cultivated modified samples, or even synthesised a precise medicine with the properties we wanted. Everything we did was with noble intentions, I promise. I know that doesn't excuse what we've unleashed, but I hope you can look on what we did with more sympathy. I'd prefer to not go down in history as a madman.

"We put in bulk orders of this specimen, enough to research and dispose of as and when we saw fit. At that point, there was only one person who actually tried to stop us, a zebra. She told us it was dangerous, that it was known as 'Poison Joke' by her people, but we didn't pay any attention. The name didn't sound threatening, and we even started calling it that ourselves. I hope she's okay, but I doubt it." The man frowned, then shook his head and continued.

"The first incidents were the standard sort of thing; people not following regulations and winding up with stings and irritations, the usual reaction to working with foreign allergens. They were sent to medical for treatment, and we carried on. But then the patients got worse, and they had to be quarantined. Then the doctors who had examined them fell ill, and unrest started to spread through the station. It's hard to keep a population under control when you have a risk of a breakout and the people who are meant to treat you are some of the first to succumb. I don't even know when the containment breaches started, but one day we found the plant covering pretty much every surface of our lab. We tried to fumigate it, and that worked until we realised it had infested the vents too. Even the samples we'd sent to be destroyed had re-sprouted in the waste disposal areas.

"Security couldn't even stop it. When people started going crazy, attacking their neighbours, there wasn't anything that could be done. Not when they'd...changed. I don't know if you can imagine a man with an arm covered in bark, or someone trying to throttle someone else with roots emerging from their fingertips. All we knew was that it was basically a free-for-all. I tried to get a hazmat suit, but one of the things ripped it, so now I'm finished. The cut isn't deep, but it doesn't need to be for you to get infected. Besides, it's started to hurt more over the last few hours. That's enough reason for me to complain." He snorted wryly, then winced and clutched more urgently at his stomach.

"Before the power cuts out and corrupts all the data, I'm going to end this video. Whatever becomes of me or this station, you have to destroy that plant. Incinerate it, dissolve it, whatever. Just make sure that it's dead and gone, and that the remains are fired into a sun somewhere. If it touches you, you're already doomed. It's far too dangerous to allow it to spread, and that means it, and everyone who's come into contact with it, needs to be obliterated. Some part of me still hopes that there's a cure, but I'm not in a great position to entertain that hope. And whatever you do, don't be tempted to keep a sample and try to experiment on it like we did. It doesn't matter how good the prospects look, or how close you think we were, or how careful you swear you'll be - if it breaks out, that spells doom for the galaxy. It's far too volatile, and it can affect pretty much anything with a single touch. If you want to make the galaxy a better place, if you want our research to count for anything, learn from us. Let our research die here."

The man forced himself to stand up and used his free hand to grab something from the desk. Bracing himself with a breath, he removed his hand from his stomach and fiddled with the item he'd just grabbed, pulling it over his head and straightening it out, until he was entirely covered by the dark yellow of his protective suit. As soon as the hood was in place, he returned his hand to the cut across his stomach, facing the camera fully. His hazel eyes peered to his unknown audience through the thick glass of the eye slots.

"That's all there is for me to say," he continued, his voice muffled by the black, membranous filter of the hood. "This is lab assistant Blowtorch of Pandora research station, signing off for the last time. I'm sorry it ended this way." He reached forward to touch the monitor, and the video abruptly ended.

"Spike..." Twilight whispered, a tremor to her voice.

The man didn't immediately look away, unable or unwilling to break the stasis of that moment. As soon as he did, he'd have to face reality again. When he finally pulled his gaze away from the screen, the woman was staring down at her hands, which were shaking. She turned to face him slowly, her expression locked in shock.

Spike swallowed, his heart thudding heavily in his chest. He didn't know what to say. When he went to pick up his gun from its resting spot, he found that his hands were trembling too. The drake tightened his grip on his weapon, trying to steady himself on something solid and familiar. Turning around, his eyes came across the protective suit from before, now illuminated fully by the light of the room, still held in place by the twisted vines.

Then it lifted its head and regarded him. Behind the glass, bloodshot hazel eyes gazed piercingly and unblinkingly, freezing the dragon in place.

There was a moment of silence as they watched each other before it let out a horrific, blood-curdling screech. The other ponies screamed and shouted, orders and panicked shrieks mingling into an incomprehensible morass. Elsewhere, a rising crescendo of wails joined in, adding to the cacophony until it seemed that the station itself was alive and trying to burrow into the skulls of the newcomers. Spike grit his teeth, his ears protesting from the violent sonic assault, willing himself to move. His arm shot out to grab Twilight, and she reacted, stumbling through the open door of the cubicle to join the others.

"Back to the ship!" Rumble bellowed, bolting to the door, the others following without complaint. Slinging his rifle, the pegasus reached out his hand to open the portal, the door hissing as the locks unlatched.

Then the generator failed, plunging them into thick, impenetrable darkness.

Author's Note

Wow, that took way longer than I expected. I was so determined to get out a chapter before the year ended though, even if it was at the last possible moment. And to think, I scoffed when a friend asked in January if the next chapter would be out before the end of the year. Anyway, Happy New Year everyone, I hope this chapter is a decent entry and that it meets your expectations. I'll update my blog soon to throw in some more details about the universe of Dragonfire, so stay tuned for that.