Faster Than Light

Dash looked out her titan-glass window and saw the whole of Equestria sprawl out before her. Despite having seen her home from the sky a thousand times before, she had never seen it like this. There were no clouds; there were no winds. There was no atmosphere. From space, Dash could see everything, from the gleaming spire of the Crystal Palace to the tiny trails of smoke left by the trains.

Something floated by the circular sheet of glass. Triangular, with rounded edges, the science shuttle had finally arrived. Four scientists currently fidgeted in their seats somewhere within the thin metal carapace. Shuttles were uncomfortable - Dash knew, but the orbital construction platform was too high to be reached by conventional ground-to-orbit transport. At a high polar Equestrian orbit, even the half-inch-thick shutters couldn't keep out Celestia's gaze.

The shuttle's ionic engines had shut down now - it was just in front of the station, matching velocity with a quadruplet of reaction control thrusters. The tiny white jets stood out starkly against the pitch-blackness. Like many ponies down below, Dash would've assumed that the stars still shone above the atmosphere. Unfortunately the only bright things outside the window were Celestis, Equestria's star, and Luna, peeking over the horizon like a scared cat.

The docking port was only a few feet away from Dash, so she pressed the button that opened the heat shield. The three-petaled flower revealed its circular door as the shuttle did the same, its docking port located in between its four ionic propulsion engines.

Dash watched the ship slide closer and closer. The sun reflected off its solar panels, the light catching Dash's eye and forcing her to cover them. Tiny jets of nitrogen gas fogged up the observation window - the shuttle was much bigger up close than afar.

A satisfying click later, and Dash felt the station's reaction wheels spin into overdrive as everything briefly shook.

She reached for the port's lever, strapping her hooves into the velcro straps. She twisted her head to her right and grabbed the metal control stick with her mouth. The tiny air jets mounted on her wings snapped into action, twisting her clockwise around the circular door. After a few turns, the metal barricade slid open without so much as a whisper. The shuttle still hadn't opened theirs.

The familiar hissing of air jets permeated through the thick sheet of metal. Shuttle doors had to be thicker than station ones - after all, they didn't have heat shields.

Dash patiently floated at the receiving dock with her hooves crossed and a bent lip. Shuttles always took too long. She could open that door in five seconds if she wanted to - if she wanted to. Last time she did... well, she ended up nearly suffocating herself and half the shuttle crew. Fortunately the electromagnets had pulled the shuttle in that time or she would've been permanently blue in the face.

The door opened, and out came three unicorns she didn't recognize and an old friend from flight school. Dash's bored look instantly became a smug smile as Lightning Dust maneuvered herself out of the shuttle with her floatpack.

"Lightning Dust," said Dash. "Didn't expect to see you up here. Didya lost a bet or something?"

"That's Doctor Dust to you. And no, bets are more your kind of thing. After I left Wonderbolts Academy I went to college and got my bachelor's."

"College? Where, Fillydelphia Community?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

Laughing fits weren't exactly practical in space, due to the fact that it was nearly impossible to throw yourself against a surface without either chewing on a control rod or using magic, but Dash managed to do so anyway.

"Then," continued Lightning Dust. "I got my master's in astrophysics from Ponytail Ridge Academy of the Sciences. Taking eight years of college doesn't seem so bad compared to you, stuck opening doors for scientists in space."

"Hey -," said Dash. "I'll have you know-"

"What? Found a way to make weather in space? You'll only make ice cubes."

"No," said Dash, furtively crossing her hooves. "I'm a pilot."

"Oh, so your year of college is enough for a shuttle pilot? Dash, get your facts right. Shuttles are automated."

Dash sighed. "No, I fly that."

She pointed at the door that led to the rest of the station, the door that (thankfully) wasn't locked.

"You fly a... door? Or are you just the station's janitor?"

Dust floated over to the door.

"Open it and see," said Dash.

The other three scientists had already disappeared through the door - Dust had to go through anyway. She flashed a skeptical face at Dash, who just smiled back at her smugly. She then swung open the door and had the air sucked out of her lungs.

She didn't see it during approach, because shuttles don't have windows. But now, the other three scientists were magically floating near a window mounted on the square room's "ceiling" They were intently taking pictures of the biggest spacecraft Dust had ever seen. Clad in white and orange, and mounted within a rectangular construction scaffold, was Equestria's and the United Equestria Space Exploration Bureau's first FTL-capable spacecraft. It was boxy and edgy, but within its three-inch thick steel shell was a whole array of electronic sensors and telemetrics, the latest in A.I arcanotechnology, the best lab equipment bits could buy, cold fusion reactors, and a massive titanium ring that mediated the exotic matter reactions that allowed the craft to literally warp space-time. And above all, the sun reflected perfectly off its freshly painted surface, hitting Dust straight in the eye.

"What? They told me I had a good pilot for my mission, not some uneducated Wonderbolt reject! Do you even know how to fly the thing?"

"She's called the Kestrel. And yes, I do know how to fly her. Maybe I should show you around."

"And who else have they not told me about is going on this mission?"

"Oh, you know, the usual ponies. Flitter. Roseluck. Gilda. An earth pony or two."

"Anypony else?"

"Spitfire's mission commander."

Lightning Dust stared at Dash with one eyebrow raised, then realized she wasn't kidding.

"Seriously?" Dash nodded her head.

"Well," continued Dust. "Unless you want to come all the way back to Equestria halfway through the mission, I'd suggest you stay out of the labs."

"Feeling's mutual. Don't touch my steering wheel."

"It's not a steering wheel up here, it's called a yoke."

"I call it what I like."

Dust nearly raised a hoof, but then lowered it. After all, a punch really wasn't the same thing in space.

"It stands. Stay out of the labs."

"Don't touch my steering wheel."

The station's exotic matter reserves were empty. Five years of charging had cumulated in this. Now, the ponies were just topping off the Kestrel's fuel tanks, catalyzing the matter-antimatter reactions, and making final conversation with the onboard A.I, Twilight. Dash hadn't met her yet, but had a strong feeling that she was going to be as bookish and geeky as the Twilight below.

The next time the station was over the Central Control Station, in Canterlot, Dash would finally be allowed out of the simulator and into the real pilot's seat.

Even though she had ran through punch procedure nearly a million times, Dash still was shaking in her null-grav bed. Nopony had ever done such a thing before. The unmanned sim-tests were fine, but the Kestrel wasn't automated.

Also, Dust was on board, and she sounded personally vengeful towards her. Dash could understand why, but space wasn't the best place to extort your rage on somepony. Unless you wanted them to die. Dash was sure nopony wanted to kill anypony else.

Then again, there was a reason why the airlocks were unlocked.

Dash tried not to think about it in the four hours left before the window began. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but the light from Celestis shone straight through the thin window shades. Her floatpack cast a shadow on her face as it drifted by.

Her squirming was held back by the sleeping bag's straps, but eventually even tossing and turning wasn't enough to lull her to sleep. The Kestrel was literally outside the window - she was sleeping in the prep room they had installed a week before. She'd thought that warmed sleeping bags were a good thing. Now, the warmth simply make her sweat. A free-floating glob of perspiration was already forming around her head, almost like a space helmet.

That was it. Dash ripped herself out the bag and grabbed her floatpack. Strapping the air jets to her wings, she whizzed towards the docking tunnel. Numerous sleeping ponies were strapped to the walls - Dash counted 14 of them. These 14 would be her companions for literally the next four months and a half.

Two bunks were empty. They weren't labeled, but Dash guess that they too didn't like the heated bags. Globs of sweat surrounded theirs too.

She slowly eased open the door at the end of the hall. Beyond that lay the prep chamber. Once loaded to the brim with boxes of mana batteries, deturium tanks, and freeze-dried apples, the room was completely devoid of anything. The stark arc lamps mounted on the "ceiling" reflected all over the steel walls. All that was left was the door to the docking tunnel (which was twice Dash's height) and the two ponies leaning on it. Well, one wasn't really a pony, but rather a griffon.

The pony next to Gilda was flame-yellow with a wild orange mane. Spitfire, once a Wonderbolt, had successfully passed the UESEB's entrance examination with the best score in her class (Dash was around tenth or eleventh) and had been chosen to lead the FTL mission based on her charisma, expertise, and past mission commanding experience. Dash had flown with her before - she was the over-the-shoulder type commander, barking orders and screaming in your ear while your hooves flew over the haptic controls. Fortunately Gilda was flying with her too or Dash would've pre-purchased a hearing aid, to be delivered in-flight, specifically for this mission.

They would've had to build another FTL-capable ship to do that. Even the bravest cross-eyed member of the EPS couldn't catch up to the Kestrel in time. Even if she was riding a rocket.

"Hey Dashie," said Spitfire, out of the blue. "Get over here."

That was then that Dash noticed the large amount of empty squeeze-bags floating around her mission commander. Spitfire always liked to get drunk before a dangerous operation. This was no exception - she had overloaded herself on powdered cider mixed with onion soup. Gilda was casually sipping water from a clear plastic bottle-bag. She greeted Dash with a nod and a twitch.

"Dashie," said the drunk Spitfire. "You - you ready?"

"Yes ma'am. Ready for anything."

"Rainbow's always ready," said Gilda. "She ran through the sim a thousand times more than me."

"Then, wait... so, are you ready then?"

"Relax, Spitfire," said Dash. "I'm flying, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah sure. Sure. Now, uh..."

Spitfire gently rose into the air, knocking her control stick on her flared-out right wing. Her left wing was still retracted, causing the air jets to send her spiraling away into the empty loading bay.

Gilda rose out of her cross-legged sitting position and jetted over to the flailing Spitfire.

"I'd better take her back."

The griffon lugged the fiery pegasus back into the crew storage. She was mumbling something incoherent about how the Fillydelphians made freeze-dried whiskey. Dash could only imagine the hangover from those.

Eventually, Gilda floated back into the loading bay with a fresh bottle of water. She threw it in Dash's general direction, the plastic container corkscrewing through the air like a drill. Dash deftly swerved to the side with her floatpack and caught it in her rear hooves.

"I see you're still not drunk on space." said Gilda.

"Heh. More like space is drunk on me."

Gilda smirked. "Hah hah, you and your lame jokes. Just don't do it on the ship."

"Do what? It's my ship."

"Our ship. I'm your copilot, remember? You couldn't possibly fly the thing without me."

"Yeah, whatever. It's not like I have administrator privileges over your console or anything."

"That was temporary, remember? They installed Twilight today."

Dash groaned.

"Hey, she's not so bad," said Gilda. "At least she has a sense of humor."

"And an endless supply of brainy quotes from your favorite alicorn."

"She's really not so bad. You wanna go meet her?"

Gilda gestured at the docking tunnel, with the Kestrel on the other side.

"Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah, I helped install her. Flight college had computronics as a course - you should look into it."

Dash sheepishly grinned at Gilda while she typed in the access code. After a few seconds, the huge metal door split down the middle, revealing a second door, which rose steadily upwards. Beyond that lay a wide, featureless tunnel, lit with arc lamps. The Kestrel's portside airlock stood waiting for its occupants. Gilda's floatpack brought her through first, followed quickly by three quick bursts of air from Dash's.

There was no keypad on the airlock.

"Now what?" asked Dash.

"Now this," said Gilda. "TWILIGHT!"

"Reporting."

The metallic voice came from a small speaker mounted on the airlock door. Despite the speakers on the station being static-filled and noisy, this one carried no trace of background sound. Dash recognized the voice - the same bookish, slightly annoying voice of a flashcard-obsessed Princess of Friendship.

"Twilight, open the portside airlock, please."

With a hiss and a bang, the massive steel doors slid aside, and Dash found herself face-to-face with a pile of empty supply boxes. As soon as she stepped close to them, the artificial gravity took hold, bringing Dash towards the ground in a near-perfect simulation of Equestria's gravity.

A thump later and Gilda was rubbing her head muttering "Damn arc-tech."

"What, are you still not used to space?"

"It's why I drink the water."

"Is it also why you brought extra sick bags with you?"

"Flight Lieutenant Gilda suffers from disorientation due to being inexperienced with a zero-g environment."

Dash looked around the airlock room - she finally found the speaker Twilight was talking through - mounted on the ceiling.

"Come on," said Gilda, still rubbing her head. "I'll take you to the A.I mainframe."

The door to the rest of the ship opened instantly.

"Doors have been opened to allow access to the mainframe."

"Is she always this... efficient?" Dash asked as GIlda led her through the whitewashed corridors.

"Eh, it's not like I know. I heard that she hates Spitfire though."

"The one you refer to as Spitfire spilled an alcoholic beverage on one of my RAM chips. Configured memory was reduced to 64 gigs."

"Hey, relax pal, I have your new chip on me." She flashed a long rectangular computer chip at the camera mounted on the airlock wall.

Gilda turned left and walked past a row of cabins. All the ponies' personal belongings had been stored away within their respective rooms - Dash, being the Kestrel's pilot, shared the frontmost room with Gilda. The scary thing was that around the corner was a wide door labeled with a radiation symbol and the words "A-M INITIATED COLD FUSION". The door directly after it was open. Gilda let herself in - Dash looked left before doing the same.

Down another door-lined corridor was the cockpit, with its titan-glass windows. Dash couldn't wait to feel the warmth of the haptic interface as the six radiation engines roared behind her.

Gilda was talking to a bright purple hologram when Dash walked in. WIth wires shrewn everywhere, and numerous exposed circuits and data chips, the A.I core was most likely the most unkempt room on the ship, barring Dash's room. The only uncluttered surface was the holo-projector, a squat, rounded cylinder with wires flooding into its bottom and a fuzzy purple hologram of a unicorn coyly smiling at her.

"Greetings, Flight Commander Rainbow Dash," said the construct. "My name is Twilight."

There was a transient moment of silence as Dash waited for her to properly introduce herself. But there would be no "Sparkle" after this Twilight.

"I was kinda hoping you'd be more... life-like, close up."

"Yeah," said Gilda. "She doesn't really have much of a personality. Yet."

"My personality cores are disabled for the duration of my trial period. When I have proven that I will not attempt to cause harm to the personnel of this ship, they will be activated. I suspect that you will find me much more agreeable when they are."

She had the same snarky voice as the original Twilight, just completely devoid of any emotion or feeling. Dash couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with the thing. Maybe it was right. Maybe she should wait for the cores to come online before judging.

"As of now, while I am unable to converse properly, I can offer you basic information about the ship and her systems."

Gilda slotted a new RAM card into the empty bank. Twilight's hologram fizzled for a second and turned a more life-like shade of lavender.

"Okay, so, can you tell me what you actually do on the ship?"

"Like most management A.Is, I run repetitive tasks and maintain basic computer systems on board the vessel. I also provide in-flight course adjustment and corrections, calculate burn times and resultant trajectories. When needed, I can also fire specific thrusters to provide the best and most efficient means of in-space velocity alteration. However, unless specifically directed, I cannot take direct control over the ship's systems."

"That basically means that she isn't an autopilot," interjected Gilda.

"Correct. There are autopilot sub-routines that I can indirectly activate, however they require manual confirmation in order to come into effect. These safeguards were put into place to ensure I cannot hijack the vessel should anything become damaged, nor can I cause any form of discomfort to the crew within the ship."

The A.I left it at that. Dash's bain felt completely wiped. Many ponies would honestly say that talking to real Twilight was a bore - talking to a brain scan of her left to develop without a personality was apocalyptic.

"Can you tell me about yourself?" Dash said in a futile attempt to communicate.

"She'll only tell you facts about her systems... brace yourself."

"I am a Harmony MK-VI System Management Intelligence, created from a brain scan of one Twilight Sparkle. I am currently the only system to have achieved MK-VI operating parameters. The others are currently under construction. I am capable of solving upwards of fourteen trillion arithmetic functions every second, with a point-zero-zero-zero-zero-one percent chance of error. I also have control of the oxygen generator, in case you were interested. " she said when Dash began to look bored.

"You have a sense of humor?"

"All A.Is do. It is programmed into our basic algorithms in order to ward off neural network degeneration and promote positive thinking. In a sense, laughter makes us live longer."

Gilda stood back up from the computer console with a soup bag in her claw. Some powdered cider was still covering the bottle's neck. She made a face at Dash and made for the door.

"Your transfer window opens in exactly three hours and twenty-two minutes. I'd suggest you get get some sleep."