He stood down by the base of the spaceship and looked up. The rocket was nearly done. He could see the workers putting finishing touches on the top of the ship. Soon, his travels would begin. And she would be there with him. He could still remember, quite clearly (even though it had been many years ago), how this had all started. How his spaceship had went from a half-finished dream to a confident reality. He even remembered the very conversation that had prompted this all. It was his very first time meeting her, the pony who had become the most important pony in his life.
The brilliant Moon shone down upon them as they walked, as bright as it would ever be, illuminating only their best features while masking their worst. The doctor, a brown, necktie-wearing stallion, looked most perfectly average. His companion, on the other hoof, was most perfectly not. Her tall, dark, and curvy form dominated over his. Her wings and horn only seemed to amplify his lack of either. They were a most odd match, yet nopony paid them any special attention, for this was Canterlot, the City of Magic. One was a god, and the other a mere mortal. And yet, this was not strange.
As they walked through the Canterlot marketplace, they began to talk. The Stars twinkled in rhythm with their heartbeats, as if out of sympathy for the two. It was as if their lives were special, marked for something great. But they were not. For even the most powerful of ponies meant nothing to the Stars, for how could even the most long-lived of them compare to the Stars? They were merely watching out of idle curiosity.
He had plans to change that. He knew that as smug as they were, their reign would soon come to an end. The lives of ponies need no longer be dictated by the Stars. He wanted to build a ship, a magnificent ship. One that could fly beyond even the Moon and reach the Stars. One that could show them that the lives of ponies meant something, that they were a force to be reckoned with.
She did not believe it could be done. After all, even the strongest of ponies could not truly move the Stars against their will. The Stars could only be moved because they allowed it to be so, and even then only at an enormous cost. She thought back to the days where the Sun had not grown lazy and would rise and set on its own, and had even been kind enough to bring the Moon with it as well. They were long gone, but they still held a kind of nostalgia for her. She knew that the cessation of this motion had been a test, a test of their race's strength; a test they were currently failing. Only two ponies were strong enough to move the Sun and Moon, and that was not good enough.
But that thought had led her away from the subject at hand. How could they ever be truly sure that even if they reached space, that they could ever reach the Stars? Even from the Moon, they seemed distant, taking the form of unreachable beacons in the sky.
And yet, somehow, he was prepared for that. He had a plan. His ship would not lift off directly, as a pegasus would, but would instead be catapulted through space by the magical force of several hundred unicorns before switching to traditional propulsion. Such an action was quite reckless, as it had a high risk of burning them out, but it also made her wonder: where would they get so many willing unicorns?
From here. He would target the poor, the elderly, the successful, anyone. Anyone willing to help and become a part of history. There wasn't anywhere near a shortage of them. And it wasn't like they wouldn't provide compensation. He estimated that there were more than enough willing unicorns in this city alone to get them at least halfway to the Sun. He even had plans for food for the rest of the journey. It wasn't the best plan, as gardening clearly was not one of his talents (among other things, he didn't seem to understand crop rotation particularly well), but it was a better plan than she would have thought of at his age. He was so young, and yet he thought so clearly, planned so directly and boldly. She could learn from him, and he could learn from her. They could be a team. Almost like how she and her sister had once been.
She had not expected such dedication to what seemed like a worthless dream. He made it sound possible, sound feasible. He had truly surprised her tonight; she loved it when her subjects surprised her. He had lit a fire in her; ignited her determination to see this dream through. She had only one request of her own before she approved the program.
It had taken him by surprise. They had been talking for hours, and the Stars had already started to fade from the sky in favor of the Sun, yet it had still felt like it had all happened so quickly. To go from being nopony to leading a team of researchers backed by the Lunar Princess herself in one night was quite impressive. He didn't care if he was rushing into things. He knew that this was what he had to do. He had to leave this planet. He had to see the Stars for himself. It was practically his destiny. He had built on where others had failed and had been working on this idea, secretly, for years. And now it was finally paying off. He had decided to agree to her one demand; after all, it wouldn't hurt.
She had asked to be brought along. His ship, as it was currently designed, was small; it was designed for seven ponies at most. So far, it was only them. The dreamer and the keeper of dreams. A perfect team.
They went their separate ways, each fully aware that they would reunite soon, that their parting was purely temporary.
"Au revoir, mon am... ie," he said, ending their conversation.
From the ship's cockpit, he could see the stars. They shone ever-so-brightly, beckoning to him even more had before. She was there as well— right next to him.
“It’s time,” he said, directed to her as much as it was to his radio.
Her horn lit up— as did many others across Equestria— and they were gone.
