Empty Space: A Battlestar Galactica Crossover

"Strength on the Earth signal is now at predicted value," announced Specialist Rarity with relief and a grin.

"Bearing on signal, combined with previous data points narrows the candidates to two. The higher probability is this single sun, here," Maud gestures to the starplot. "But there is a 7.4% probability it is coming from this triple system about four light years away from the most likely one."

“Where would that be?” asked Luna.

“Horsehead Nebula, sir.” responded Maud.

"Good work, Ms. Pie, Specialist," congratulated the Admiral. "Plot a course to the best solution. How many jumps will be needed?"

"Three, sir."

"Very well. Col Luna, get a Phoenix configured for comm intercept. After our next jump, we'll send it out to that 7% system."

"Begging the Admiral's pardon, but with our next jump, we'll be able to determine for certain which of the systems the signals originate from," advised Lt Maud

"Thank you, lieutenant. But that is their nearest neighbor, so it's reasonable to think they will have colonized it before any other system. I want to see what's there."

"Rare, now that we're going off-duty, could you give me a hoof with something in the conference room?"

"I suppose so, lieutenant." Maud pulled up a sample Earth signal on a monitor. "I wonder if we could sharpen the resolution by using a re-synchronization circuit," she said, stepping aside so that she could see the monitor.

She frowned. "I don't see how that would help," she said, moving in and bending over the monitor to examine her results. She moved in with a hoof on the desktop on either side of her.

"We have worked really well together on this project," she began. "Perhaps we should get together outside of work. Maybe dinner at Moon's Table over on Cloudsdale Seven? We both have leave coming up."

She turned around to face her. "Enlisted personnel may not fraternize with officers, you know. Plus, I'm seeing somedragon already." To take the sting from this rejection, she placed her hoof gently on her ribs. It was this action that Spike witnessed through the glass of the door before fleeing first the hall and then the Galactica.

"Really?" Maud's brow furrowed deeply. "I haven't noticed anypony. Are you sure he's serious?"

She gently removed one of his hooves from the desktop and extricated herself from her vicinity. "I think so," she said.

"Now, if I adjust the frequency selector like... so, we should... aha!" Deck Chief Applejack exulted. The screen she and Rarity had hooked up to a mysterious jumble of electronics came into focus. "Check it out. What are they doing? It looks a little like Pyramid. Now that was an easy chance, and he muffed it."

"Maybe the object isn't to get it into that ring," Rarity remarked.

"Are you kidding? Look at the size of the ball. Look at the size of the ring. What else could it be? Whoa! Did you see how far away he was, and he got it right through!"

"Yeah, I saw." She absorbed more of the signal from their new home. "Why aren't there any mares on the team?"

"Dunno. Oh, come on! That's an obvious penalty!"

"Maybe not under their rules." Rarity lifted a phone. "Bridge, Comm Shop. The Admiral asked to be notified when the teevee is ready... That's affirmative. Comm Shop off line."

"What are we seeing?" asked Admiral Armor, glasses mounted to view the small screen.

"It's a sporting event, sir. When a player throws the ball through that ring, his team scores two points..."

"I see. Is there any other traffic that we can monitor?"

"Well, let me try adjusting the reception frequency... There. I've got something now."

"Hmm. Why is that man waving a cloth? And what kind of animal is that? And what's wrong with the audio?"

No pony could answer the first two questions. The Chief listened carefully. "I think the audio is okay, sir. Listen... The music is coming through clearly... And that is crowd noise, just like you'd hear on a Pyramid broadcast, say. And the rest sounds like speech, but it's just gibberish."

The Admiral straightened up. "The Earthers are certainly full of mysteries. Chief, how many more of these teevees can you make?"

"Now that I know how it should work, I could have three more by tomorrow, if I give it priority. More, if I cannibalize parts from ships."

"No need for that." Armor lifted the phone. "Bridge, this is the Admiral. Have the Officer of the Watch set up a four-member continuous rotation of one officer and three crew for monitoring Earth broadcasts. The detail is to figure out, if possible, the type of program and its meaning, and log the same. The officer assigned this duty will make note of any especially meaningful broadcasts and log those as well. Armor off line."

The screens lit up in front of Captain Dash and three deckhooves sitting on chairs, watching the four teevees, with earphones for the audio. "With a little ambrosia, this would be a duty to volunteer for," remarked one hoof.

"Stow it," admonished Rainbow Dash, settling back and reaching for a non-existent cigar.

"Yes, captain," acknowledged the chastened hoof.

"Captain, I may have something here," said Deckhoof Sand. "See? Right here, beside the stallion's head. Would that be a map? And listen to what he's saying!" She pulled the phones from the jack and the man's voice filled the bay. "...vy fighting in Saddle Arabia as El Ray forces attempt to surround the Each armored units. Meanwhile, President Necks On and Secretary Breads conferred on the hotline in an attempt to find a way to end the conflict." Rainbow ended the review.

"A map would be good news, of course. I suppose Necks On and Breads are the leaders of the El Rays which probably is a kind of ground unit, and Each is their word for 'Changeling.' But nothing there really requires command attention, Rainbow, so why did you ask for this meeting?"

"It's not clear yet what any of the names mean, Admiral. Sir, I wonder if the situation is not like what happened between Galactica and Pegasus. Or rather what almost happened. Is it possible, sir, that the Earthers are fighting among themselves?"

Specialist Ritz rushed over to comfort her bunkmate. "Stallions can be such jerks," she murmurred.

Stunned, Rarity requested message replay. Her Special Somedragon's, or former Special Somedragon's voice filled the small bunkroom with pain. "Uh, Rarity... It's me. I've, uh, been thinking. Thinking that we should start seeing other people. And, um, I guess that's it."

Rarity looked blankly at her friend. "When I got up I had a dragon. And another I didn't even know about. Now I have no pony. Or dragon. It's just like before," she said bitterly. "It's just like always."

"Notify the fleet that after the next jump all ships will take a full maintenance cycle," Armor ordered.

Colonel Luna glanced over. "Now? When we are so close? It will be just two jumps away. We could easily just keep going."

"Yes, Luna, we could. But I want to be ready in case I don't like what I see. Or in case they don't like what they see of us." He crossed over to his friend's station and continued in a much lower voice. "Rainbow put me onto a disturbing possibility. She thinks the Earthers may fight among themselves."

"Well sure they do. I fight with my wife all the time. So does everypony else I know."

"That's not what I mean. I mean battles. With weapons."

"Ponies against ponies? So they might fire on us?"

"We can't take chances," the Admiral said grimly. As the President has stressed so many times, this fleet is the sum total of human civilization. Our pony civilization, anyway."

Luna digested this for a moment, then went on. "Since we're getting the bad news over with, I just got the latest from fleet ops. Recycling percentage is down to 91.6%."

Armor groaned. "All right. Usual response. Include the civilians. I'll set a good example by going first."

Luna grunted, "Better you than me. I'll wait until my number comes up." He thought things over for a moment. "It would make a bigger impact if the President joined you, don't you think?"

They shared a sardonic smile. "It would at that," remarked the Admiral.

Spike recoiled from the slap. "What the hell?" he protested. "Who are you?"

"I'm Rarity's bunkmate, which you would know if you had bothered to find out the first thing about her. And that was for having no class. A voice mail! You don't break up with a woman in a voice mail."

Rubbing his cheek, he continued resentfully, "It's not like I've ever done this before. And it's what she wanted, not me. Maybe you should get your facts straight." And he stalked off.

"Stars, I'm a mess." Rarity brushed her tears away and resolutely composed herself. "I barely got through my duty watch. I need to pull myself together."

"That's the spirit, sweetie. There are lots of stallions in the fleet. Not so many dragons, though."

Rarity snorted. "Oh sure, a knuckle-dragger, maybe. Or a civilian. We see civilians when we get leave, let's see, maybe once a month."

"Well, yeah, but there's been a load of weddings recently... Oh, honey, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that loads of women are finding men, so maybe men are starting to get serious or... oh, what do I know?"

"Is that thing working?" Armor growled at the news team.

"Yes, Admiral."

"Let's get going, then," he said and punched open the hatch. Corridor air mingled with that in the recycling center. The reporter gagged, the cameramare stumbled. President Celestia coughed discreetly as her eyes watered. "The smell does take some getting used to," remarked the Admiral as he led the way. Finding no reception committee, he located a deckhoof. "Where's your chief?" he asked. The crewman pointed out a petite blond woman in a highly stained worksuit. "Armor and Celestia ready for recycling duty," he reported.

She wrinkled her nose diffidently, perhaps at the high command, perhaps at the presence of the camera in her domain. "Right. Admiral, you can help Jasper here. Madame President, you can help muck out the primary water system filters. Follow me, please."

"We're in the recycling spaces aboard Galactica," chirped the reporter engagingly. "Every ship configured for long-duration space flight has one. Of course, some of our vessels were never meant to be in space for as long as we have been, and so other ships have had to take on their garbage. Especially Galactica.

"We've all been irritated, I'm sure with the pickiness of the recycling orders, and been tempted to simply bin everything. But it all comes to places like this. And I can tell you, the smell is just indescribable. But if recent rumors are true, it won't be long before you all have the chance to experience this work firsthoof..." Her voice drifted off as she tagged along after the President of the Colonies, and Armor could not hear any more. He sat at the bench next to Jasper, who was disassembling a set of window blinds.

"Okay, sir. Would you mind holding the other end of these slats? We've got to get the cords out first, then slip the slats out. Yes, like that."

"Why can't these simply be repaired?" Armor asked as his horn flared. "They don't look so bad."

"They're not. The only thing wrong with them is a broken cord. But it has been determined that the materials are more valuable than the blinds. We haven't come across any good sources of aluminum recently, I hear."

Armor shrugged. "We're always short on all kinds of things." he said. "Shows a lack of prior planning for a cruise like this," he added sardonically.

"Sure. Put all the fibrous parts in that bin there. Mares keep screaming for more fiber. All we can get. Lint from the laundry dryers. Everything."

Armor eyed him quizzically. "Mares?"

Jasper did not answer him directly. "Notice the smell when you came in here? 'Course you did. I was only on one ship that didn't have it. Prison ship. Stallions only, see? Recycling regs are strict, and one-time sanitary products are supposed to be reserved for emergencies only, but we been getting more and more and more every jump. There been some increase in emergencies that I don't know about?" When Armor did not reply, he continued, "Bad idea, if you ask me. Having mares on board. They are the first ponies to break the regs, and some officers and chiefs cut them slack on it. But there's no hiding it from us. Not down here. Well, that's the blinds done. Let's go disassemble some of them emergency leftovers."

Rarity opened the door. "Oh. It's you," she remarked with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

"Look, I'm sorry for being so... abrupt in my message. It's just that I've never done it before, so..." he trailed off, lost before her icy gaze.

"So you regret having no class, but you don't regret what you did to me," she snapped. "Got it." And she tripped the hatchclose.

But his foot blocked it. "What I did?" he blazed. "What I did? What about what you did? You and that girl Maud? I didn't know you swang that way."

"Get out!" she yelled, enforcing her will with a magical shove that sent Rarity staggering back to the bulkhead. "Break up with me if you want, but don't try to make it like it was my fault!"

He stood confused for a moment. "You didn't want to break up?" he asked uncomprehendingly, then read the answer in her eyes. Slumping, he said, "I'm such an idiot."

Staring at the floor, he could not see her face soften as she said, "You got one thing right anyway."

Turning, he slouched miserably away and mumbed, "You'll never want to marry me now. I just thought after...AHH!" he shrieked as she whipped him around and pinned him to the wall, much to the consternation of passers-by. "I'm sorry," he said automatically. "I know it was presumptuous of me to think I might get the most beautiful woman in the fleet. I know you must be pissed, but..." Whatever else he might have said was lost as she stopped his lips with her own. She dragged him by main force back in to her quarters and hit the hatchclose. It was only an hour later that they realized Spec. Ritz must have passed them on the way in, off on some suddenly urgent errand.

Afterward, she propped herself up on an elbow and asked, "So you've never broken up with a woman before?"

"Uh, no. No, I haven't."

"You do suck at it."

"Hopefully, it's a skill I'll never need."

She smiled. "So all of your girlfriends broke up with you?"

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Ah. Well. I haven't, uh, really had a girlfriend before. I mean, not a real one."

"Really? You mean I'm the first mare you ever..."

"Oh, come on. I'm sure you could tell."

She considered this briefly. "No, not really. It was kind of... average."

Stung, he sat bolt upright. "Average? Average?"

"Okay, okay. I meant it was not amateurish. In fact, it was exciting, it was satisfying. It was..."

"Don't do that. Don't lie to me. Don't ever lie to me. If it was average, it was average." He paused, trying to put his feelings into words.

"I wasn't lying. It was just as I said. It's different for women. Emotionally, it was perfect, and that's what really counts."

She started to say something more, but he forestalled her with a finger on her lips. "It's just that you deserve so much better than just average." He looked directly into her eyes. "Teach me," he said sincerely. "Teach me everything."

She evaluated him carefully, then pushed him gently onto his back. "Since you mention it, there is something I'd like to show you."

Sweaty, exhausted and deeply satisfied, they lay together catching their breath. "Wow." he said.

She pushed a stray lock out of his face then realized how askew her own must be. So she stood up and checked her look in the mirror. He arose also and joined her, kissing her neck gently. Savoring this, she asked suddenly, "Did you mean that before? You think I'm beautiful?"

"Most beautiful woman in the fleet? Of course I meant it. How can you even ask me that? This mirror does work, you know."

"Okay, but don't you think my nose is too big? And my mane. I've never liked my mane."

He hugged her tight, despite being mystified at her mane comment. "Don't ever run down my fiance again. I don't understand women at the best of time, but this makes no sense at all. I mean, look at you. Just look at you." He took her brush and began working it through her mane. His eyes sunk half-closed and he murmured over her shoulder, "Silky and glistening, soft yet strong. Mmm. And your skin. Smooth and perfect. Eyes that glow with the inner fire. You might be an avatar of Cadence, ruler and breaker of the hearts of men."

She looked into his reflected eyes, searching for mockery. "You better be careful, talking like that," she warned.

"Why?"

"Armor and Cadence were a thing."

“WHAT?! I THOUGHT SHE WAS MYTHICAL!”

Rarity turned and faced Spike.

“Got you. I guess I'm just a little naughty.”

He shrugged, "I'm not chafed yet," and they let nature take its course. Again.