Shift Four

by Railsmith

Rating: everyone
Tags: Adventure, Slice of Life, Comedy
Length: 10761

The harrowing tale of the inhabitants of Equestria's first space station.

The heroes have all traveled, the records have all been taken. Ponies have already traveled into the starry void of space and returned to fame and fortune. But once all the milestones have been reached, what's left to do?
The answer: To bring space to everypony. To form a permanent habitat in space far above Equestria. And the Fortitude Space Station plans to do just that. Follow Shift Four, the second crew to inhabit the station, as they sail hundreds of miles above the clouds, to see just how long one can survive in space. Will they survive their three-week stay in an untested spacecraft? Only time will tell.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-07-01 08:34:02 UTC

Chapter One: Homesteading

"T-minus ten minutes and counting."

I shifted in my seat, leaning against the harness to look giddily "up" at Silver Comet, the flight commander. My grin was probably wide enough to start hitting my ears.

"Are you ready for this, Comet? Isn't this going to be great?" I was practically bouncing up and down in my seat, despite being held down by a heavy EVA suit and an eight-point safety harness.

As easily as if he was discussing the weather, he said, "Nothing I haven't been through before." Cool as a cucumber, he was. Of course, he had every right to. I mean, this was the pegasus' fifth flight. His fifth! There were only a couple other ponies with that sort of flight time.

Although he wasn't the most seasoned of veterans, he was easily the most experienced of the four of us aboard the capsule. Big Red, the enormous pegasus seated next to me, had been on one other flight: the Dauntless 6 mission that practiced manufacturing techniques in microgravity. Having spent his every day working on the capsules and rockets Iron Star Aerospace put out, there was hardly anypony more qualified to serve as the mission's safety supervisor and construction chief. The only problem would be getting a legible word out of him: His birth language was Old Northern, and so he wasn't the best at speaking Equestrian. Out of the three Northerners on the flight, he had the strongest Northern accent, which posed a problem to our fourth crewmember.

Our "science officer," whatever that meant, was the one and only Caelum of Caelum Aerospace. You know, the company that puts balloons into space and generally makes a pig's ear out of spaceflight. So far, he hadn't said anything to anypony since we strapped into the capsule. Southern folk, I thought. Strange bunch.

Officially, putting Caelum on this flight to the Fortitude Space Station was a gesture of goodwill between the two warring space programs. Having Iron Star's biggest business rival (or at least former business rival, after all those agreements) aboard the second habitation mission to Fortitude was supposed to be a sign showing that everypony was capable of working together in peace for the betterment of ponykind.

Unofficially, most ponies thought it was a way to show the Southerners that we could get ponies into space a whole lot faster and easier. And, considering the fact that this was Caelum's first flight aboard a rocket, it was probably also a chance to scare the soul out of the unicorn. During training, he had confessed that he hadn't actually ever seen a rocket launch with his own eyes. He was going to be in for a shock when the boosters lit up!

As for me, well, I was a different case. I had been working with Iron Star since their early days, pushing cosmonauts through dive training to prepare them for microgravity conditions. Being a natural-born swimmer helped that job out quite a bit, especially when one had to pull a screaming trainee out of the water, pressure suit and all, because he got claustrophobia. Which happened quite a bit. The ponies that got past me, though, eventually seeded my reputation of being tough on ponies in training, but a nice stallion once you got me out of the water. I had made quite a few friends in the Cosmonaut Corps, and so I ended up being able to take the wife and foals out to the pad to see almost every launch. Having a few good friends higher up and an uncanny knowledge of zero-gee maneuvering was actually what got me pushed into training for this flight.

Of course, there was also one other thing they needed me for. Apparently, Comet couldn't be trusted to operate a space suit's maneuvering thrusters or the capsule's clusters of engines. And Big Red had nothing more than a working knowledge of the space suits, partially of my design, that we were to use. So I was given the overblown title of "Extra-Vehicular Activity Technician," or EVAT, and the twin tasks to get our capsule docked with Fortitude and maintain and operate our life-giving space suits. No pressure. The tasks ahead of me, combined with the fact that this was my first spaceflight, should have been enough to leave me a nervous wreck.

But no. I was bouncing up and down and trying to get the countdown clock to go faster. If Dee had seen me now, she would have confused me for a colt in a candy store. If she ever found out...A wave of fear ran through my head as I realized I'd never hear the end of "oh yes, you're the cosmonaut that was giggling and waving your hooves about on an incredibly historic and important flight."

Forcing myself to keep from fidgeting, I looked "up" to the second pair of seats, where Caelum and Comet were strapped in. Once we were oriented with Equestria below us in orbit, they would be above Red and I, up against the ceiling, while the lower seats would be oriented to be against what was to be the floor. Or was it the other way around? Were we going to be orbiting with the ground over our heads? Microgravity things like that got confusing sometimes.

I dispelled these thoughts and called over to Comet. "Hey, how much longer?"

He glanced at something on his instrument panel. "Two minutes. Red, turn on the radio with Mission Control."

Dutifully, Red hoofed a tiny switch with surprising finesse. A hiss filled our helmet's speakers, before it was replaced with the voice of Lunokhod Frost, who was serving as this flight's capsule communicator, or CAPCOM. It was his job to tell us everything and anything during the flight that we wouldn't have noticed in over a second's worth of thought.

"About time, Typhoon Twelve," he said, using our flight's designation. "I was waiting for you to open the link for a while now."

Comet pressed a hoof to the radio control button on his control panel. "Sorry about that, CAPCOM. Lost track of time."

"No worries, Twelve. T-minus one minute thirty seconds, sensors report minimal fuel boil-off. Boosters are live and go for launch."

I took a moment to marvel at how much more in-depth things had gotten since the early days. Back then, we just poured in fuel and hoped that not too much would turn to gas and escape before somepony hit the ignition button. Of course, once we actually started launching ponies, everything got a lot more regulated to make sure everypony came back safe. But there's something innately fun about a tense and delayed countdown, mashing the launch key, and watching the rocket rise up two and a half inches from the pad before running out of liquid fuel and coming back down. The last time that happened, we just took the rocket off the pad, laid it on its side, and turned the thing into a restaurant for cosmonauts and crew. Too bad we probably wouldn't have anything like that anymore, especially with the new solid boosters we used. Even if the main liquid-fuel engine failed, the solid boosters could usually get the vehicle up and away to a safe abort.

I was snapped out of my reverie by Lunokhod's steady voice: "T-minus one minute. Power is internal. Standby for clearance."

Even though their voices didn't come through the radio, I had spent enough launches in Mission Control to know exactly what everypony was saying as they cleared the rocket for takeoff...

"Environmental?"

"Go flight."

"Guidance?"

"Green across the board."

"Propulsion?"

"Go flight."

"Tracking?"

"Flightpath clear. Go flight."

"Downlink?"

"Data confirmed. Go flight."

A real voice filled the air now, instead of one from my imagination. "All stations report nominal. Typhoon Twelve, you are go for launch."

Absolute silence. Everypony in the tiny capsule was far too wrapped up in their thoughts, anticipations, and worries to say anything.

"Turbopumps one through four are green. T-minus twenty seconds. Nineteen..."

"Well, comrades," Comet said over Lunokhod's countdown, "here we go. Onwards and upwards."

At that moment, there wasn't any better way to describe what we were about to do.

"Fifteen. Fourteen. Launch sequence initiated. Twelve. Eleven. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Main engine ignition."

An unearthly rumble filled the capsule as the mighty RPL-100 engine at the bottom of our rocket roared to life. Alone, and at a low throttle like it was, it was incapable of lifting us off the pad. But once the countdown hit zero, the four solid rockets strapped onto the sides of the Hurricane launch vehicle would ignite. And the fun would start.

"Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Ignition."

Nothing could prepare me for the wall of sound that filled my ears as the solid boosters ignited and our main engine leapt to full throttle. The four of us were thrown about as the capsule shook madly, fighting against the force of gravity. Suddenly, we were slammed against our chairs, as everypony started to feel many times heavier than normal. As if from afar, I heard the almost-inaudible voice of Lunokhod over my helmet's speakers:

"We have liftoff! Typhoon Twelve has cleared the tower, on its way to the Fortitude space station!"

As if a switch had been thrown, I started laughing. A heartbeat later, I heard Comet's raspy chortle, followed by Big Red's booming guffaws. Even Caelum started a laugh that was as much fear as exhiliration. The very idea of how fast we were going, what we were doing, and the contraption we were using was just too much. Then Comet pumped a hoof against the heavy gees and shouted, "Yeah! Feel that baby run! Come on!"

Of course, CAPCOM was all business once the applause in Mission Control had died down. "Throttling down to seventy percent. Initiate roll maneuver."

The vessel suddenly shook much less violently, and I could see clouds rotating through the little window in front of me.

"Doing good, Typhoon. You're at about two times the speed of sound right now--the sonic booms are just starting to reach us down here."

"Great! That's just fantastic," Comet hollered over the radio, his voice fired with adrenaline. "How are we doing on the SRBs?"

"Solid booster burnout is in about ten second's time. Stand by for separation and throttle-up. Input gravity turn program."

"Yeah, yeah," Comet said. I heard him hoofing the control panel for the guidance computer, roughly typing in the command that would get our rocket started tilting sideways. Looking at a display panel situated between Red and I on the instrument panel, I saw a pair of lights blink on. The letters painted onto one read: "PROG RUN," and the other read "GRV. TURN." Looks like Comet did his job right, I thought wryly.

"Throttle up. Booster separation."

There was a muffled clang, then the roar of the RPL-100 grew to full intensity. Shaking like a leaf, I peered out of the window in front of me as clouds whipped by. The rocket began to pitch over, until we were headed up at about a 50-degree angle, according to the gyroscope in front of me.

We lay in our seats for what seemed like no more than a minute, listening to the roar of the four-chamber engine and occasionally spouting some gung-ho catchphrases. Time seemed to whip by until Lunokhod's voice came up again:

"Stand by for stage 1 separation and stage 2 ignition."

Another, louder clang, and my inner ear went crazy: were we falling? Were we still going? I was at a total loss until the roar of the second-stage engine, a single-chamber RPL-33, filled the air and we started accelerating again.

"Wow. Would you look at that. Never gets old," Comet intoned. I looked out my window to see the sky rapidly fading from bright blue, to purple, to a midnight hue: We had escaped the atmosphere. We were in space! The giddy feeling washed over me again. How many ponies could say they had been into space?!

All at once, the second stage's engine cut out, and the feeling of being crushed by gravity disappeared. The only thing now was...nothing. Microgravity. I watched in utter amazement as a pen came loose from its clip and drifted across my vision, tumbling gently. Even decades of neutral-buoyancy training in water couldn't prepare me for this!

As it usually did, Lunokhod's voice snapped to life over the radio to cut me out of my thoughts. "Congratulations, Typhoon Twelve, you have achieved orbit. Stage 2 has separated successfully. We're going to put you through a few orbits before putting you on an interception trajectory with Fortitude."

"We did it," I laughed. "We did it! Orbit!" I clapped my hooves together, cheering. Soon enough, everypony else had joined in the makeshift ovation, clapping and whistling. I grinned to myself, feeling like the stallion on top of the world.

With a grin on his face, Silver Comet punched the intercom key. "The commander has turned off the 'Fasten Seatbelt' sign. You are free to move about the capsule."

As fast as I could, I undid the harness that held me into my chair. Freed from my bonds, I started gently drifting out of my seat and towards the instrument panel. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Big Red unbuckling himself as well, drifting about with a grin plastered on his wide face. Hooking one forehoof around a bar, I pushed myself up against my tiny window, and gasped.

Beneath us, the entirety of Equestria stretched like a dream. Every continent I had ever read about stretched from horizon to horizon in incredible detail. Right now, we were above an archipelago in the Eastern Ocean, that I recognized as being northeast of Manehattan. I could see individual buildings that dotted several of the islands, and even a speck with a long white tail in the water that could have easily been a gigantic cruise liner or a tiny fishing junk.

"Look at that! Everything's so clear!" I laughed, tapping the window excitedly. Behind me, Comet chuckled.

"Yeah, I remember my first flight. Good thing we've got a few orbits before we have to dock; I'm sure you're going to need time to sightsee."

I reached under my seat, retrieving an old and clunky camera. I pressed it to the window, mashing my forehoof against the shutter button. "Man, just wait until I get these pictures developed. The foals are going to flip!"

Struck by a sudden idea, I fiddled with a few dials on the camera. Once it started ticking, I twisted it about and let it float freely in the cabin, facing us. I slid back into my seat and said, "Smile, everypony!"

Startled, the other crewmembers barely had a second to react before the flash filled our tiny spacecraft. Looking up and back, I saw that Comet had a protein bar clamped in his jaws, half-pulling a cheesy smile. I chuckled, then looked over to our Southerner crewmember.

"Hey, are you doing all right over there, Caelum? Looking a bit green around the gills, there."

The unicorn bit back a wet burp. "Think I'm gonna be sick," he muttered, his face lined with tension.

A look of incredulity crossed Comet's face. "And you've been in space how many times?"

Caelum levitated a paper bag over to him, sliding it over his mouth. "'S different," he said quietly. "Lots of space on an airship. Hardly any acceleration. Get a week to start coping with nullo."

I laughed at the situation. Apparently, you have to be a lot tougher to deal with riding to space on a rocket than an airship! I grabbed a railing, using it to spin myself upside down. Having failed to stop myself completely, I ended up slowly rotating around and around like a record.

"So you're not very good at figuring out microgravity right now, huh? What if you think about how I'm staying perfectly still, and the capsule is rotating around me?"

Caelum retched violently into his bag, elicting a disapproving glance at me from the commander. I shrugged, continuing my gentle spin.

"What? Now he's empty. I just solved one of our problems!" I turned back to my window, snapping more pictures as Caelum cycled the trash airlock with a hiss.

The almighty voice of CAPCOM filtered through the capsule at least an hour later. "How're you doing up there, Twelve? Having fun?"

I glanced about the capsule at this. Since we achieved orbit, I had gone through a roll and a half of film. Big Red was reading a book with the cover bent back, though when he pulled it from the bag under his seat I noticed the cover looked like one of the romance novels Dee used to read. I pretended not to notice. Meanwhile, Comet was going through every manual he could get his hooves on, trying to look like he wasn't worried. And Caelum was in a half-doze, muttering some sort of meditation mantra.

Comet replied, "Looks like business as usual, CAPCOM. What's going on?"

"Well, you've got an experiment package on the Service Module that's been taking data since launch. Telemetry just reported it's only got a few minutes of recording time left. You're going to have to send somepony out there to retrieve the full tape and slot in a new one. Somepony that knows how to maneuver effectively in microgravity."

All eyes in the cabin turned to me.

"What?" I said, stowing my camera in a front pocket of my suit, "I don't know anypony that has an expert knowledge of extra-vehicular activity."

I flicked the visor shut on my helmet, triggering the lock and listening to the hiss of pressurization. Automatically, the radio in my helmet began broadcasting to my crewmates, as they started sealing their suits in turn. "I mean, it's hypothetically possible that somepony here could go out and change that tape. I'm not sure if I would be able to figure out who to choose, though.

"Matter of fact, I could be the one to do that. But I'm not sure if I've got the guts. After all, microgravity is so scary," I said dramatically. In response, Comet leaned over and clapped me on the shoulder, grinning.

"Ready to take the longest walk in the world, Drift?" he said happily.

I dropped the act and grinned back. "I've been waiting for this for ten years."

As Red started depressurizing the capsule, a fluttery feeling filled my gut. Sure, I had been doing much harder work in simulated microgravity ever since I first fell into a lake. And work underwater was probably even more dangerous, considering the incredible pressures and lack of support a deep dive gave you. Heck, if my suit got a puncture, I could easily survive hard vacuum for long enough to get back into the ship. And all I had to do was pull a tape, snap a few pictures, and throw in a new tape so the folks back home could learn more about the effect of microgravity on some flibbertiwhatsit or another. Nothing to worry about, really, I thought to myself.

Then Comet popped the side hatch, I hooked up my tether, and stepped out into the starry void.

Being an earth pony, I lived my life with my hooves fixed to earth or water. Like every wingless pony before me, I occasionally wistfully looked to the sky and wished I was born with the power of flight. Of course, I never got more than a foot or two above the ground on my own power.

But at that moment, when I drifted through space at incredible speeds, higher than any pegasus had ever flown, I flew.

I flew.

A strange peace came over me as I floated there and watched the universe go by. Unencumbered by the capsule, I could see Equestria in a full 360-degree panorama.

"It's...beautiful," I whispered. My eyes got a bit watery.

Leaning out of the hatch, a camera clamped to one hoof, Big Red let out his characteristic basso chuckle. "Back to business, Drift."

I let out a somewhat pained laugh. "Right. Business." Tugging at my tether, I scooted back to the Typhoon capsule. All at once, my training took over. Spiderlike, I clambered at the handholds strewn about the service module behind the capsule until I saw a hatch adorned with a blinking red light labeled "SCIENCE PACKAGE 04B". At a tap, it sprung open, revealing a mess of scientific equipment, one corner of which was dominated by an oversized magnetic tape and a reader. I flicked at the release switch, watching as the tape drifted out of its reader and into my waiting hooves. As I passed it to Red, and received a blank tape in turn, something occurred to me.

"CAPCOM, EVAT."

"Go ahead, EVAT."

"If you can get telemetry from these instruments, enough to know when a tape is almost full of data, why can't you just get the information from the instruments and send it down? Like you do with the sensors in the cabin?"

"Uh, excellent question, EVAT. Our experiments officer is furiously writing the answer on a chalkboard as we speak. Just a minute."

"I'll be here," I laughed. Retrieving my camera, I started snapping picture of everything I could see, including Red with his own camera. Hooking myself to a ring on the service module, I once again let the camera drift free with its timer ticking. I pushed my sun visor up and grinned winningly at the battered lens, hoping the shutter snapped. Before I was able to attempt taking a picture while the camera was spinning in microgravity, Lunokhod came back over the airwaves.

"Looks like the science modules aren't exactly optimized to broadcast their data over our relay network. If we filled the broadcast channels with scientific data, there wouldn't be enough bandwidth left for the important stuff. And...well, that package was kind of thrown in at the last minute. It was adapted from a test model we were using in the labs, and so we only ever intended it to use storage tapes."

"Works for me, I suppose," I quipped, sliding the replacement tape in. The previously red warning light blinked green, and I snapped the hatch shut forlornly. Taking one last look at the majesty around me, I climbed back into the capsule, locking the hatch behind me. I sat in silence as the cabin repressurized, opting to focus on coiling my tether and thinking about my escapade.

A light on Red's panel turned green, and we removed our helmets almost in unison. "Well?" Comet said brightly, stowing his helmet, "How'd it go?"

"It was..." I was at a loss. "It was like nothing else."

Comet chuckled. "I keep saying it. Sure, the fame, the paycheck, and the adoration of thousands of mares is quite the incentive. But when you're out there in the void, with nothing more than yourself as your spacecraft, that makes it all worth it. We'll have to get everypony out there before this mission is out."

After a minute or two, Caelum spoke for what was probably the third time: "So, what's next?"

Comet glanced at the clock on his dashboard. I watched as the gears turned in his head, running a quick calculation. Then he simply said: "Four. Three. Two. One. Ze--"

"Typhoon Twelve, this is CAPCOM," Luno's voice interjected.

"Go ahead, CAPCOM," the commander said, mirth evident in his voice.

"You are a go for an orbit rendezvous burn with Fortitude. Run program RZ-114 and initiate uplink from the ground network."

"Roger that, CAPCOM. Uplink in five." As the greenish pegasus punched at the computer control panel, he turned and addressed me. "Alright, Ice, this is your time to shine. I'm going to handle the main engine burn, but once we get close in to Fortitude, it's all yours. Celestia knows you can handle reaction thrusters better than I can."

"Ten-four, Commander. I've got your back." I noticed my forehooves were shaking as I prepared my control console for use. Luckily, the docking adapter on Fortitude had been built with a ring of large shock absorbers, so I didn't run a risk of crushing the station or our Typhoon from coming in too fast. The only thing that worried me was whether or not I could dock straight enough such that there would be a perfect seal. If I was more than three inches to one side or another, the seal would be uneven, collapsing as soon as somepony opened the hatch. We'd all be sucked out of the capsule like leaves in a tornado. No pressure.

Comet's reassuing voice put me at ease, though. "Going smooth as silk, everypony. Good work. Caelum, confirm heading one-seven-eight, twelve degrees up angle."

The unicorn studied his own panel of displays and switches. "Heading one-seven-eight, twelve degrees up, roger. Ready for Orbital Maneuvering Engine burn."

"Thanks. CAPCOM, we've got green lights for the OME, heading, guidance, and uplink. Waiting for your data to start the burn."

"Already there, Commander. The engine'll burn and disengage on its own in about five seconds."

Right as Lunokhod's transmission stopped, the capsule jolted as the service module's Mark 4 OME came to life. Loose objects started falling towards our faces as the acceleration imparted a tiny hint of gravity. On my panel, I watched as a timer representing the burn length slowly ticked down. Once it hit five seconds, the engine audibly throttled down to a quiet murmur. At zero, there was a brief hiss, and we were drifting unpowered again.

"A textbook burn, Twelve. Tracking reports you've matched orbits with Fortitude and are about two miles out. Recommend beginning final approach with reaction control system."

"As ordered, CAPCOM. We're on our way." Comet released the transmit button and nodded to me. "There's your cue, Drift. The helm's all yours."

I wrapped my forehooves around the twin joysticks that controlled our RCS thrusters. Gazing out my window, I saw Fortitude in the distance, a brighter speck among millions.

"Here goes nothing," I whispered. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself for the task ahead. When I spoke up, my voice was flat and emotionless.

"Caelum. Once we're within five hundred feet, I'm going to expect constant distance announcements from you. Be prepared to report heading and speed as well. Red, watch the docking panel when we start to get close. I'll need confirmation the second contact is achieved. Comet, maintain communication with CAPCOM as needed. Keep your hooves on the backup RCS controls, though, in case something goes awry. And get your helmets on, everypony. I'm not taking any chances. Everypony gimme status updates on your systems whenever you think necessary."

Comet chuckled, laying his hooves on his own RCS controls. "That's the hardass I remember! Follow his orders to the T, folks: he's in command until we get the hatch open. We're going to get in just fine, if we all work together."

Without further ado, I pushed the left stick forward. With a hiss, eight clusters of hydrazina thrusters came to life, scooting the Typhoon visibly closer to Fortitude. I twisted and rolled the sticks about, testing each thruster to the extent of their abilities. Satisfied that each RCS block was functional, I called back to our unicorn crewmember.

"Caelum, give me a gimbal direction and distance to Fortitude."

"Heading one-seven-four, ten degrees up angle. One point nine miles to the tracking beacon."

Let's see...you remember your rendezvous maneuvers, right? Adjust for change in apoeq from increased velocity, angle below the target...yeah. A few quick taps of the third joystick mounted on the wall that handled pitch, yaw, and roll put my attitude indicator straight on the horizon, heading one-seven-four. Satisfied, I slid the left RCS stick forward, shooting us forward towards the station. I watched as Fortitude almost imperceptibly moved downwards as it drew closer, since my speed increase was punching us into a higher orbit.

"Speed to Fortitude ninety feet per second, distance one point seven miles. Recommend braking at point eight miles," drawled Caelum. A quick glance back showed that his gaze was locked onto the various instruments in front of him.

"Good work, greenhorn. Comet, check full-time audio downlink with East," I reminded. "East," of course, was the inexplicable term for the Naryan-Mare Astronautics Center, more specifically the Command and Control Complex (or Triple-C) in this situation. Keeping our microphones on constant transmission to headquarters made sure the techies didn't have to keep asking towards our status. Plus, it made a good recording to air on the three o'clock news.

"Downlink confirmed, EVAT. Triple-C's hearing everything we say."

"Excellent. Caelum, range to target."

"Range point nine miles. Target heading two point five degrees down angle. Eighty-one percent fuel remaining in main RCS tanks."

I took a moment to mentally applaud the unicorn's report. He had thrown in everything I was going to need for the rendezvous, without any prodding! Pulling back on the left stick to brake, I quipped, "Outstanding, Science. Couldn't ask for better."

"It's the least I can do, EVAT. Speed to Fortitude thirty feet per second, range point eight miles."

Up ahead, the space station loomed like a glittering gem in the blackness of space. Even in a barely-habitable unfinished state, Fortitude was huge. And beautiful.

Glancing about the structure, I spotted the slowly blinking yellow light that pointed out the docking adapter that would fit our spacecraft. Once we drew closer, the station's automatic systems would switch the light off to prevent its glare from potentially blinding me mid-dock. A simple feature, but one that could easily save lives.

More squibs of gas slowed us to twenty feet per second, the speed determined by Triple-C to be safe for close approach. Once we came within forty feet of the docking port, I'd  gradually slow us to a crawl of about six inches per second by the time we were within spitting distance. Going so slow helped keep us safely within the docking mechanism's safety tolerances and allowed for a quick abort.

It also made for a rather boring approach.

"Fifteen hundred feet," Caelum said a minute or two later. A century later, "One thousand."

For the fifth time, I checked our artificial horizon. Yeah, we were still lined up with the station's angle. Yeah, we were going at the right speed. Looks like all the worrying was for naught, I thought, relieved. It's just like putting a ship into port back home. It'll only start getting hairy about ten feet out.

Then, in a flash, the science officer announced, "Forty feet," and I was hauling back on the reverse thrust. As we drifted towards the port, I took a second to observe the station. It looked to all the world to be nothing more than a conglomeration of tubes, wires, and solar panels, but for the next three weeks, it was going to be our home. For those scant few days, we would live and work in the skies above Equestria. Sure, we weren't anywhere near the first to do so, nor were we to do much groundbreaking work. All of the records had already been taken by the bold pioneers and daredevils who came before us. We were the colonists, the second wave. We would be the ones who brought space and all its miracles to the common pony. We would--

"Fifteen feet," Caelum warned. I glanced at the cross painted on the sight attached to my window, noticing that it was well below and to the left of the corresponding cross painted on the docking port. Trying to control my fear, I gently tapped at the right stick. With a series of tiny hisses, the crosses lined themselves up. Or were they a bit off?

"Eight feet. Six inches per second."

I bit my lip, trying to line my eye up as perfectly as possible. If they were even an inch off... To be safe, I braked some more.

"Four feet. Three inches per second," Caelum said dubiously.

Left? Right? Up? What's safe? Are my eyes lined up right? Will we get a safe seal? I tapped the right stick some more, feeling sweat droplets wick off and float about in my suit. Was that going to be good enough? I could hardly see the crosses anymore, with the shadow our Typhoon was casting. Maybe if I pulled out a flashlight--

There was an almost inaudible thud. "Contact light," Red uttered solemnly. "Seal confirmed."

Comet broke out laughing. "That might have been the smoothest docking I've ever seen!" He leaned over and clapped me on the shoulder as I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "I tell you what, when our flyboys dock, you can hear the screech as the ports align through the whole ship! Not to mention they're coming so hot our orbit gets about a mile and a half higher. But you handled that like a dream, and for a first-timer? The Cosmonaut Corps chose well putting you on this flight."

I grinned weakly. "T-thanks, Commander. I guess all that time in the neutral buoyancy tank really paid off, eh?"

"Sure did," Big Red said smoothly. "We're getting data from Fortitude, by the way. Full atmosphere and pressure nearly equivalent to the capsule's. We're a go to open the hatch."

"Ground stations report the same data, Typhoon Twelve," Lunokhod said, having heard our conversation. "We've got a whole lot of ponies down here cheering for you four. Enjoy your stay on the Fortitude Space Station! I'll get back in touch with you in a few."

"Roger that, CAPCOM," Comet said merrily. "Well, you heard the stallion. Grab your things, everypony, let's get in there!"

He floated over to the hatch at the nose of the capsule, and, wrenching a lever, snapped it open with a creak.

A wash of cool, ozone-scented air washed over us as we looked into the Docking Module. Comet grinned.

"See? Perfect atmosphere in here! This place stood up well for being empty for the last two--"

He was cut off by the impact of a large cloth bag to his face. Evidently, the slight change in air pressure had been enough to send it along from the Docking Module and into his face.

He grabbed the offending object, wrenching it open. "What in the hay's this?" Shaking the bag, a cluster of shrink-wrapped packages tumbled out, along with a bag or two of some liquid. A package drifted by my face, and I snagged it, reading the inscription on its label:

SERIES ONE FREEZE-DRIED COOKIES: CHOCOLATE CHIP.

Then, below the official label and barcode, a note written in marker:

From your friends, the crew of Shift Three. Thought you might want something to celebrate!

Next to me, Red snuffled at one of the bags. His face lit up like a foal's, and he said reverentially, "Vodka. Two bags full!"

Thousands of miles away, Lunokhod laughed. "Oh, did you find our little gift? We had some supplies left over when it came time to head home, and couldn't think of a better way to use 'em. Wait until dinner, though, you'll spoil your appetite." As the radio link went dead, I heard more laughter in the background.

Comet grinned goofily, stowing the packages once again. Beckoning to us, he drifted onwards, swinging the hatch open to the rest of the station.

"Well, come on! Let's check this place out!"

I was out of my seat, camera in hoof, faster than you could say "Hohmane transfer orbit".

I flew into the next module just behind Comet, snapping pictures all the while. Sure, it wasn't the most interesting thing to take pictures of, being a module that held little more than transmission and recording equipment, but nonetheless...

Wait. Recording equipment.

"Comet?" I called, the beginnings of a plan in my head.

"What's up?"

"I think I just figured out how to get us on every news channel in Equestria." A dangerous grin spread across my face. "Open a line to CAPCOM. Red, be a helping hoof and start unpacking the cameras in that locker. This ought to be fun."

Several hours later, I floated over a console watching the tape I had pulled from Red's newfound camera. Sure, the whole deal had been broadcast live on every television station simultaneously, so there was nothing I could do to change any goofs. But it still felt good to see my work in action. I twisted a volume dial, hearing our tinny voices coming from the speakers. I could imagine what it must have been like down on the ground...

"Fillies and gentlecolts, we interrupt this program to bring you a special broadcast. In an unexpected announcement from the Naryan-Mare Astronautics Center just a few minutes ago, an Iron Star spokespony stated that four cosmonauts had succesfully come aboard the Fortitude space station, hundreds of miles above Equestria. Moreover, a live broadcast by the crewmembers themselves would take place momentarily. So tonight, instead of showing you the latest episode of Pinkie Pie's Kitchen, we're going to bring you a special show, filmed by our daring cosmonauts in real time."

A brief hiss of static, then a grainy picture comes into focus. The perspective shifts wildly about before settling on a space-suit-wearing Earth pony in washed-out color. He smiles winningly and speaks in a smooth voice that was more befitting a broadcaster than a cosmonaut.

"Greetings, Equestria, from the Fortitude Space Station! My name's Iceberg Drift, and I'll be your host tonight. Right now, we're cruising along at several miles per second at an altitude of three hundred miles above the ground. But to us, we might as well be not moving at all! You see, once we get going fast enough and high enough, you no longer feel the forces of acceleration. Or gravity!"

He pushes off a bulkhead abruptly, spinning in the air a few times with a grin before stopping himself.

"You see? Up here, even an earth pony like me can fly like a pegasus, with a fraction of the work!

"But I'm sure you're not tuning in to hear me lecture you on the wild science that is microgravity. What you lovely mares and gentlecolts are here for is something interesting, and I'm ready to deliver! You see, we just moved in here a few hours ago. Heck, we're still unpacking! But we figured you'd like to see what it's like to live in space, and so I'm going to take you on a tour of our home away from home."

He starts drifting backwards, gesturing about him with one forehoof. "This module we're in is the Data Relay and Recording Module. Quite a fancy name, but what it boils down to is this is the module with all of the radios and camera equipment. In fact, this computer right here is beaming the television signal from the camera my crewmate is carrying straight down to our Command and Control Center, where it'll be sent to televisions all across Equestria. From here, we will also be able to operate the unmanned Horn of Plenty resupply vehicles on their final approach to the station. This screen here would show the view from the capsule's camera eyes, and these joysticks will control the bevy of thrusters yours truly would use to bring it in to dock. That's my job around here: I handle everything that's moving around in space, from spacecraft to ponies to the station itself. It's a fun job! But say you're bringing a ship in to dock, and the camera won't cut it. What if you want a closer look?"

He wrenches at one panel, pulling it loose to reveal that the entire segment is also an independent control box. It carries three controlling joysticks and an array of switches and gauges. Taking the box with him, he scoots into the next module, a smaller spherical number with a docking port in each of the six cardinal directions.

"All you have to do is take these controls and bring them up with you to the Combined Docking and Egress Module, right up here!" He pushes upwards and disappears into the hatch above him. The camera dutifully and smoothly follows along, revealing a wide module with a ring of windows on one end, and space suits strapped to the wall of the cylinder. A hatch stands on the top in the middle of the ring of windows, and another on one side. Drift looks down with a grin and wiggles the joysticks demonstratively.

"From here, you can look right out these windows to see the Horn of Plenty as it docks with the station through this hatch. All you have to do once it connects in open the door and pull out your supplies! Also, this module holds the suits we wear for long-term extravehicular activities, or EVAs. Once you're buttoned up in the suit, you just head for the airlock over there, and get to work!"

He clips the control box to the wall, flying towards the camera, which scoots out of the way. Back in the spherical module, he beckons with a hoof.

"Come on, I'll show you where I work!"

He pushes himself through a different hatch, into a module that looks like an engineer's dream. It's lined with various gas bottles, computers, and propulsion equipment. In one corner is an opened door to a small room no bigger than a broom closet. Drift looks over at the camera once he's taken ahold of a railing.

"This is the Service and Propulsion Module, or SPM. In here, we store all of our fuel for the station's engines. We use the engines every once in a while to keep our orbit at the right altitude, so we don't fall into the atmosphere. When I'm not going about my daily routine, or helping one of my crewmembers, I'll be right at this console." He points at a workstation bristling with joysticks, switches, and monitors. "I watch our radar screens for any debris that might be too close for comfort, and use the thrusters to move out of the way. And if we have ponies outside on a spacewalk, I'll be monitoring the supply of fuel for their maneuvering packs, and making sure they don't get too far away. That is, if I'm not out there with them!" He laughs and heads over to the closet-like chamber.

"And this right here is my personal stateroom! It might look a bit cramped, but since I can hover anywhere in the room, it's actually more than enough space. Up on this wall, I've clipped my sleeping bag to the wall. I have to keep it tied down, or I might go drifting around in my sleep!

"Over on the opposite wall is everything else I'd need. There's a couple storage lockers for the things I brought up with me and an intercom panel, so if there's an emergency I can talk with everypony immediately. But what about the rest of the crew? I bet you'd like to meet them!"

Without warning, he leaps forward and takes a hold of the camera, turning it about to point at the former cameraman. Put on the spot, the large red pegasus grins nervously and waves a hoof. Drift's voice, muffled, pipes up.

"This is Big Red, who's in charge of in-flight mechanics and cosmonaut safety. When a new module gets launched up, as it will in a week or so, he'll be the one supervising its installation. He makes sure many of our systems are working to spec, and monitors all of our life-support systems. In short, Red keeps us all safe and shipshape, including Fortitude itself!"

Drift passes the camera back to Red and makes his way over to a different module, this one loaded with similar equipment to the SPM. Instead of fuel tanks, though, the bottles in this module are labeled "NITROX: KEEP SEALED" and similar. Farther down, the module seems to hold a compact machining shop.

"And here's where Red works: the Support and Service Module! In the front is all of our life support systems, including air bottles, backup oxygen generators, and bottled water casks. Further on is a set of tools and equipment to repair and maintain all of our onboard systems. And through the hatch at the end, we'll eventually hook up a big storage module to hold more food, water, and supplies. But for now, this module is our main storage area."

The host heads back into the spherical hub module, taking a left this time. Inside, a bluish unicorn was staring intently at a display, fiddling with a joystick. Upon hearing the pair enter, he looked over and waved.

"This is Caelum, our science officer. He handles all of the experiments we're going to be doing on Fortitude. How're you doing, Caelum?"

The unicorn drifts back from his work, unsteadily turning himself to better face Drift and the camera. "I'm doing just fine, Drift."

The earth pony puts on a mock-confused expression. "What're you up to in here, anyway?"

"Well, since this is the Combined Experiment Module, I'm testing out one of our most important tools: the microscope. I can put all sorts of different things in it, from crystals to crickets, and the microscope will help me see how the zero-gravity conditions affect them. Then scientists on the ground will take my readings and use them to learn even more about how plants, animals, and minerals work, in or out of space!"

Drift faces the camera as he waves goodbye to Caelum and heads onwards. "You see? It's not all fun and games up here in Fortitude. We'll be doing experiments days and night!"

The next module was another spherical hub with a module to the left and right, making a sort of T shape. Iceberg floats in the middle of the sphere, smiling winningly.

"To my left, we've got our smallest module, but possibly one of the most important. Inside, there's a treadmill and a bunch of elastic resistance bands so we can exercise. If we don't stay in shape, all of our muscles will shrink from disuse in zero gravity. So we all have to spend an hour or so in that module, to keep our strength up.

"And to my right is the last module of the station so far: the Multipurpose Utility and Telecom Module. Its radio equipment supports the systems in the Data Relay and Recording Module, not to mention it holds a bunch of equipment and computers that we need to function at our peak performance. It also holds the mission commander's office, where he communicates with the Command and Control Center and plans our tasks for the day. And that's where I think we'll find our last crewmember!"

Inside, Drift's prediction proves true: A green-tinted pegasus is perched in front of a computer, typing intently. The red stripes on his pressure suit point him out as the pony in charge.

"Fillies and gentlecolts, I'd like to introduce you to Shift Four's commander, Silver Comet! This stallion's been on more spaceflights than everypony here combined, so it makes sense that he's the big cheese. How's it going, Commander?"

"It's going well," the pegasus says, glancing over. "Right now, I'm filing a report on how the station is doing after two months of lying empty. Turns out Fortitude lives up to its name: we've got hardly any repair work to do!"

Drift turns to face the camera full-on. "Looks like we were lucky! Fortitude's one tough station.

"Well, this has been an introduction to our ship and its crew. I hope you've enjoyed this little tour! I'll see all of you again soon!"

With a grinding click, the tape whirred to a halt. I ejected it, sliding the black plastic box into a storage locker. Not bad for two hours' preparation, I mused. In addition to all of the unpacking and getting situated, I had to write a script for Caelum and Comet that didn't sound too cheesy, and figure out a way to get it to where they could read a writeup but it wouldn't show up on camera. Through a series of confusing exploits, I managed to get Caelum's copy on microfilm and in the microscope, and convinced the radio officer in our tracking station at Trottingham to broadcast Comet's two lines up to his console. Hopefully the whole thing would get a good reception back home.

A shout rang through the confines of Fortitude. "Hey, Drift!" Comet let out a burst of uncontrollable laughter. "You've got a caller on line two."

"Yeah, yeah, I've got it!" I chuckled and scooted over to the radio transceiver, a few feet from the tape reader I was situated at. I slipped on a pair of headphones, swung a boom microphone in its gimbal closer to my face, and held a hoof down on the button labeled "TRANSMIT".

"Thank you for calling the Fortitude Space Station, what can I do for you today?"

Lunokhod chuckled on the other end, before responding in a ridiculous imitation of a Manehattan accent. "Well, I bought this space capsule from you a few weeks back, and now the batteries are dead. What did I do wrong?" A wave of laughter sounded out in the background: he was broadcasting the conversation through Triple-C.

"Ahh, I see yer problem! Y'see, first you gotta call up your local Iron Star-authorized service shop. Then you talk to yer buddy Clem what owns the steam tractor and whatnot, and drag that capsule alllll the way to the poor sap at da shop wit the hammer and the Leyden jars..." I let go of the radio controls, my shoulders shuddering with wild laughter. The best part was, if you took away the ridiculous Plains Province accent, I had pretty much described our recovery procedure for downed capsules. We actually did have a unicorn on the recovery team named Clem, and he did use his steam tractor to drag our capsules back to East in the early days. The folks back home must have got the joke, too, because between everypony it took us about ten minutes to calm down and start breathing.

Eventually, Lunokhod gasped out, "But yeah, no, there actually is somepony here who wants to have a word with you."

I wiped a tear from my eye, watching it float away and splash against the hatch. "Oh, really? Who is it?"

I could hear a smile in the pegasus' voice. "Let me just patch 'em through. I think you'll figure it out eventually."

"...All right then," I said dubiously. "Go ahead, CAPCOM."

There was a faint crackle of relays a thousand miles away, the characteristic wurfle of a live microphone being passed around, and a faint whisper of "Yeah, he's on! Go ahead!"

Then, a voice that I would recognize anywhere.

"Icey!"

"Dee!" I said back, a smile immediately crossing my face. There wasn't a pony in the world that could cheer me up faster than that pegasus. "Did you see me on TV?"

"I did! Should've known my stallion was going to pull something like that. Even in space we can't get you to stop broadcasting, eh?"

"What can I say? I've spent too much time on the radio in my day." I shrugged, forgetting that one couldn't see gestures through a radio for a second.

"Sooo, how was your day?" she said mischeviously. "Do anything fun?"

"Not really," I replied goofily. "Except there was this thing with a rocket and some loud noises earlier. Nothing out of the ordinary!"

"Okay, okay, you nut," she laughed, "I get it. You're up to quite a lot. How's it going, though?"

"Oh, it's just great!" I beamed. "I got a bunch of great pictures, especially when I was out on a spacewalk earlier. I can't wait to get these developed and show 'em to Dinky. She'll flip!"

"Yeah, she's our little cosmonaut, isn't she?" my wife said warmly, with a hint of wistfulness.

My voice became much softer. "Not so little anymore, is she? Going off to college, learning how to be a doctor, going on dates--"

"I swear, one day she's going to bring home a stallion that you won't want to murder. And if she keeps things up the way they're going, well..."

"We'll teach 'em a lesson they aren't going to forget," we finished in unison, a smile on my face.

"Until then, though, I'll just have to be as intimidating as an old stallion can be, and hope that the little ones don't break my disguise." In all seriousness, though, I was about the least intimidating pony you could find. Unless it came to brainless diving trainees, or some dumb colt who thinks with his cojones trying to lay a hoof on Dinky. That's when things get messy.

"I'll help out next time one shows up: I'll buck out half of the lights and find you an old rusty sword to sharpen when he comes in the door. Good plan?"

"Good plan. You always know what to do, don't you?"

"I try, Icey. I try. But hey, don't let me keep you held up. You've got a lot of work to do, mister!"

"Okaaay..." I said in an exaggerated glum tone. "I'll talk to you later, then, Dee. Give the foals a hug from me."

"I will, sweetie. Don't forget to call, okay?"

"It's already on my list," I said, grinning. Three o'clock tomorrow-Call home, I thought. Don't you forget it.

"Perfect. Love you, Icey."

"I love you too, Dee," I said softly, releasing the transmit button. Before I could take off my headphones, though, another pegasus' voice rang through them:

"D'aaawwwww. You two!"

"Shut up, Lunokhod," I said brightly. "You know you're just jealous."

"That's probably entirely true, Drift. Hearing such unbridled cuteness naturally triggers the 'jealousy' and 'inappropriate reaction' centers in my brain. It's a situation doctors are already referring to as the Lunokhod Process."

"'Doctors' meaning you, of course."

"Naturally. You have a good night now, Fortitude. CAPCOM out."

"Roger that, CAPCOM. Right back at you." I removed the headphones and hooked them back onto the wall. Despite Luno being...well, himself, the few minutes I had to talk to Dee had just made my day a whole lot brighter. It was kind of funny how--

Big Red flew up and crashed into the hatch frame, brandishing the drink bags from earlier. One of the bags had already been opened, and judging by how well Red was navigating, I figured he had taken on the role of drinks tester.

"Comrade Drift! Come! Is time for much drinking!"

Now, how could I say no to that?

As I flew into the Combined Experiment Module, Comet whipped a packet of cookies at me. They caromed off of my face and into my forehoof, where I tore the packet apart and massacred the cookies inside. A thin fog of chocolate chip cookie filled the air as the four of celebrated the only way we knew how.

I glanced about the module, speaking through a mass of freeze-dried deliciousness. "Y'know, all of these crumbs might be a problem for some of the experiments."

"You're right," Comet said pensively. He took a sip from one of the bags. "What if we just sucked all of them up?"

"Vacuum's in the Support Module," Red muttered from inside a cookie packet.

Comet waved a hoof dismissively. "Nah, that's no fun. What if I just..." He drifted up to a cloud of crumbs and opened his mouth, inhaling deeply. The tiny paricles swarmed into his waiting jaws.

Until that day, I had no idea somepony could have cookie-coated lungs.

Comet choked and coughed, releasing a flurry of crumbs back out into the air. Wheezing like a geriatric, he gestured wildly at his throat.

"I'll go get the vacuum," Caelum said hurriedly, excusing himself.

Meanwhile, Red had caught the hint. He slung the smaller pegasus over his shoulder, bracing himself against the bulkhead and rapping Comet on the back like he was burping a foal, albeit much harder. With one last wet cough, the commander's airway cleared. Gasping for air, he drifted bonelessly about, occasionally bumping into a wall or two. Then, once Caelum returned and started vacuuming up the mess, Comet rasped out,

"Well, I learned a lesson today. Somepony hand me a drink and some real food."

I grinned and said, "I know a great place that has the only salads in a thousand miles. Hang on, let me go grab some." I headed over towards the Typhoon and its storage lockers, leaving Comet behind me laughing drily.

As the minutes went by, and the vodka bags grew thinner and thinner, our conversations started to go all over the place. Once, we talked about our worst screwups when we were out on dates:

"An'--and then, do you know what she says to me?" Comet could barely speak through his mirth. "She says, 'That's not a mule, that's my mother!'" He let out a guffaw. "So naturally, I says, 'What's the difference?!' Needless to say, I woke up six hours later in Archpegasus General with two horseshoe prints on my forehead!"

Once the laughter had died down, Comet turned to me. "How about you, Drift? Got any embarassing stories?"

I thought for a moment. "No...not really. Well, except for the time that I almost drowned a mare, but that was hardly a date."

Caelum spluttered into his bag of tomato juice. "You what?!"

"Almost drowned a mare, I did! Not on purpose, though."

Comet settled back on a bulkhead. "Oh, now this I've got the hear. Do tell, Drift!"

"Alright, alright. So back when I lived in Ponyville, I used to be a bit of a scientist. I did a whole lot of research and experiments into deep-water diving, underwater plant life, lake creatures, and what not. Turns out I found out a whole lot of stuff that nopony had ever even considered before. And there was this local librarian, a real Canterlot mare she was, that fancied herself a scientist too. So of course she wanted to get her hands on all of my findings, no doubt to take 'em without any credit and get all of the royalties or something. 'Course, I said no to all of her requests, so she tried a different tactic."

"Ho boy," Red muttered.

"Exactly. She comes up to me, apologizes for being rude, then asks me out on a date, y'see? And I'm not one to turn a mare down, so I had to say yes. Just about the whole thing goes reall smooth. Dinner, a walk by the riverside, talking about each other. All good. But then we're sitting on this dock on the lake's edge, sun's setting. It's all very pretty. Then she leans in real close, opens her mouth...and asks me for my journal of findings."

"Oh, real nice," Comet said sarcastically. "So what'd you do?"

"I did the only thing I could think of: I jumped in the lake. I paddle out a few yards, start treading water, and I say to her, 'If you can out-swim me, I'll tell you everything!' And bless her heart, she jumps right in that lake."

"Frost, I've seen you out-swim a steamboat. What possessed her to think that that was a good idea?" Comet inquired.

"I've no idea. Especially considering the fact that she couldn't swim."

"No way!" Caelum said, shocked. His eyes were starting to look a bit unfocused.

"Way. So she's flailing around, hollering for help, and I figured it was an act. Trying to get my sympathy, y'know? Then, the mare just kind of...sank. She was down there for a half a minute before I realized she was actually drowning."

Red piped up with, "And? You pull her out of lake, yes?"

I fixed him with a steady gaze. "No, I got out of the water and went home. Of course I saved the crazy filly, Red! But I tell you what, once she got the water out of her lungs I didn't hang around much longer. And wouldn't you know it, she stopped bothering me after that!"

"Well, that's one way to get a mare off your back, I guess!" Comet laughed. "What about you, Red? Got anything wild and crazy to tell us about your love life?"

Big Red's face went flatter than a two-day-old soda. "No. I have no troubles with mares. I date them, they date me." He sighed. "Mostly."

"'Mostly'?" I echoed. "What's going on, Red?"

His expression darkened. "You tell anypony, and I kill you on the spot."

"I won't. Cross my heart," I said solemnly, drawing an X over my chest. Beside me, Comet did the same. Caelum was far too busy being semiconscious to join in.

"Well, there is a mare. Pegasus. Works in the Environmental Department. Name's Cherry Dream."

"Yeah, I remember a Cherry from somewhere. Bright yellow, red mane, cloud cutie mark?"

"Yeah, that is her. I met her when I was taking one of the life support classes. She was helping teach a lesson on air pressure, and she looked over at me, and..." He paused for a moment. When he resumed, his tone was wistful: "Her face lit up. Like I just made her day. I tried to say something to her after class, anything, but I couldn't. I choked and I ran. Ran like a foal.

"Ever since then, I've been trying to get the guts to talk to her. But whenever I think of her face, her smile, I just..." He sighed gustily. "I go spineless. I get scared that I'll say something wrong, that she'll turn me down. I...This is the first time I've ever had this problem, and it's scary."

Despite being in shock at hearing Red say more than three sentences at a time, I reached over and patted him on the shoulder. "That's a good thing. It means you well and truly love her. No matter how scared you get, you at least get the courage to start to try again later. That kind of dedication is a mark of true love."

Red sniffled, his eyes downcast. "How can you be sure?"

I laughed merrily. "Red, I've been in your horseshoes. I've felt exactly what you're feeling right now. And let me tell you, if you keep trying at it, you'll end up with the mare of your dreams."

"But...how am I supposed to talk to Cherry if I can't get the guts?"

Comet spoke up. "Well, we can assume she likes you back, judging from what you've said. If there's mutual attraction, all you need is a push."

The gleam in Comet's eyes told me he was coming up with a plan. "Tell you what. When this whole deal's all over, and we get home safe, I'm going to help get you two set up. If I can get so much as a 'Hi there' or a 'How're you doing' from one of you, the ball's gonna start rolling."

"Count me in," I said smoothly. "I think I could lend a hand."

"It's settled then," Comet said, clapping his forehooves together. "When we get home, we've got a game of matchmaker to play."

"But right now, we ought to get to bed. Lots of work to do in the morning!" I said, taking on the tone of an upbeat cruise director. "Comet, can you take care of Caelum?"

Wordlessly, the commander pushed the snoring Caelum into the bedroom-closet in the module. He swung the closet's door shut, never breaking eye contact.

"Well, that works. Little guy ought to be fun in the morning, eh?" I downed the last of a vodka bag before tossing it into a nearby trash bag.

"With the alcohol tolerance of a Southerner? More than fun. And we'll be all bright and chipper, and laughing like hyenas."

"I'll take pictures." I pushed myself in the direction of the Service and Propulsion Module, and much-needed sleep.

Inside my closet, with the door shut and a tiny fan blowing my exhaled carbon dioxide out of my face, I did up the straps securing my sleeping bag to the wall. Hey, this is actually really comfortable, I thought. I wonder how long--