Ponystar Celestia

T minus thirty minutes. Ponystar Celestia, pegasus bay.

“—which then propels the pegasus forward at high speed for a much faster, combat-ready takeoff,” Lieutenant Caramel was saying to his tour group. “We’ll actually be using those for the decommissioning ceremony, to add a little pep to the performance!” He paused, as though expecting a reaction. When none arrived, Caramel pressed on. “Just to the right, you can see the launch coordinator’s booth. You may be surprised, but even though this is the pegasus bay the coordinator is usually an earth pony. Can anypony tell me why?”

An awkward silence stretched out and made itself comfortable in the bay. A tourist sneezed. Eventually one hoof went up.

“Yes, miss?” Caramel said desperately.

Sweetie Belle put her hoof down, her face betraying her confusion. “You… do know who we are, don’t you?” She gestured to each pony in turn. “I mean, Apple Bloom designed this bay, and Twilight Sparkle created the communications enchantments that the pegasi use in combat. Scootaloo's assigned to the Celestia, Fluttershy is on the Reserve Flyers list, and Big Macintosh served on the Firefly for two years. I admit that I don’t know much about how a ponystar works, myself—and your tour has been very informative—but I don’t think anypony would mind if you just let us look around on our own, or go to the kitchen—”

“Galley,” Caramel and Apple Bloom corrected reflexively.

“—galley, sorry, and get a bite to eat.”

“Uh…” Caramel began.

“Orders,” Mac grunted.

“Huh?” said Sweetie Belle.

“Oh! Oh! I get it!” Pinkie said, waving one hoof like a schoolfilly eager to impress her teacher. As always, the sound of her voice made Mac smile inside. “One of your bosses told you to take us on the tour or else, and you have to do it even though it’s silly and pointless, right?”

“Um…”

“Well, if ya gave your word—” Applejack was cut off by another sneeze, “—ya gave your word. Ah’ll play along: why is the coordinator an earth pony?”

Lieutenant Caramel was visibly relieved to be back on his script. “That’s because—in a bold departure from Equestrian tradition—jobs on a ponystar are commonly divided up by tribe. Pegasi are the only ponies who can fly, of course—”

Mac heard Twilight mutter something that sounded like “Glimmer wings.”

“—and unicorns are the only ones who can cast and maintain the various enchantments that a ponystar needs, such as the blade-wing enchantment that helps our brave pegasi in air-to-air combat, or the navigation enchantments that help guide the Celestia when we can’t see the ground or the stars. They also put their lives on the line in the point-defense rigs, casting combat spells at enemies who get too close. The earth pon—uh, yes, miss?”

Sweetie Belle had raised her hoof again. “I heard that the Celestia has never been combat-ready, so why split the jobs up on this ship?”

“Uh, yes, it’s technically true… The Celestia is under-powered compared to other ponystars, and so it’s always been listed as a Reserve vessel. As a result we mostly have a mix of ponies who are just beginning their military careers and ponies who are ending theirs. The veterans pass their skills on to the nuggets—that’s a bit of military slang, comparing the beginners to easy-to-eat chunks of carrot—and in the end the entire military benefits. It wouldn’t make sense to train the nuggets to follow different rules from every other ponystar, though, so we keep the tribes separated.” Caramel smiled, visibly pleased with his ad-libbing. “Now, then, the earth po—”

Sweetie Belle’s hoof was up again. Mac was reasonably sure she wasn’t doing it to mess with Caramel. Reasonably.

“Yes, miss?” Caramel sounded almost pained now.

“Which are you?”

Caramel blinked slowly. “What?”

“Are you a ‘nugget,’ or are you on your way out? You don’t look that old to me, but I thought Lieutenant was a pretty high rank, so…” Sweetie Belle trailed off with a shrug.

“Oh! Oh, right,” Caramel said. “Well, there are any number of reasons a pony can get posted to the Celestia. I volunteered, actually. Sure, it’s not the fast-track for promotions—that would probably be the Hurricane—but the Celestia has a sense of tradition, despite how young the Fleet is as a whole.” By now his expression was an endearing, almost embarrassed smile. Big Brother Sense a-tingling, Mac looked over to Apple Bloom, who was clearly enjoying the Lieutenant’s compliments to her work.

“One more question,” Sweetie Belle said.

Caramel lowered his head. “Yes, miss?”

“Do you have an identical twin who works as a ticket-taker at Canterlot Central Station?”

Mac was very, very good at reading ponies. It was an important skill, especially for somepony who was bad at socializing but had to do so to earn a living. Thus Mac saw Caramel freeze for a split second before chuckling and replying, “Why no, miss. Why do you ask?”

Sweetie Belle was also studying Caramel, much less subtly than Mac. “Sorry; it’s just that I could’ve sworn I saw you there, and I doubt that that’s a second job for you.”

“Oh,” Caramel said, rubbing the back of his head with one hoof. “Well, you know how it is: if you get a large enough group of ponies together you’re going to start thinking you see duplicates!” he said with an awkward laugh. Caramel’s expression of slightly vapid friendliness was back in place by now, and a quick glance told Mac that most of the girls had never noticed its absence. “So, uh, did anypony else have a question?”

Pinkie raised a hoof, her face inscrutable even to Mac’s trained eye.

Caramel looked like he wanted to tear his mane out. “Yes, Dame Pie?”

“Oh, it’s Apple these days," she corrected cheerfully. "Anyway, what do earth ponies do on the Celestia?” she asked with a huge smile.

“I’m glad you asked!” Lieutenant Caramel said almost desperately. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, most of the decks and bulkheads on the Celestia are made of wood. What you may not know is that most of them are living wood, from a single massive tree that was uprooted and enchanted to serve as the Celestia’s core.” Perhaps having a better feel for his audience now, Caramel gestured to Twilight and Apple Bloom as he asked, “Care to tell us the story there?”

“Well, Twilight did most of the work,” Apple Bloom replied.

“True, but it was your idea, Apple Bloom,” Twilight demurred.

“‘Vision without action is a daydream,’ as they said in ancient Neighon,” Apple Bloom said.

“They also said ‘Action without vision is a nightmare,’” Twilight countered. She did a double-take. “Wait! Since when are you a scholar of the Far East?” she asked.

When Apple Bloom turned to face Twilight instead of the group, Mac couldn’t see her face. Even though he couldn’t tell what kind of look Apple Bloom gave Twilight, Apple Bloom’s voice was smug—definitely smug and nothing else, yup—as she said, “Full. Of. Surprises.”

Mac fake-coughed into a forehoof, and Apple Bloom flinched as though caught with her mouth in the cookie jar.

The youngest Apple cleared her throat in turn and said to the group: “Anyway, what we mean to say is that Twilight 'n’ I used a living tree because it’d be more durable. Sure, inanimate objects hold enchantments for longer—sometimes forever—without maintenance, but you can put some really powerful spells into a living thing.”

“For instance,” Twilight said, “We were able to re-shape the tree into the framework of the ponystar while maintaining its structural integrity. That’s one of the few grand enchantments that fortunately doesn’t require refreshing, since growing is something the tree naturally ‘wants’ to do. The self-repair enchantment is similar, although that requires some resources in the form of water, sunlight, and nutrients. It also requires a touch of earth pony magic to get it started.”

“Thank you, ladies,” Lieutenant Caramel said, smiling. “As Dame Sparkle said, repairs are a part of what the earth pony crewmembers get up to here on the Celestia. We’re also responsible for administrative duties and other miscellaneous tasks. I’ll admit that our jobs aren’t glamorous, but we keep the ponystar flying so the other tribes can do their part.”

“About that,” Apple Bloom said. “I’ve noticed that most of the earth ponies I’ve seen here are wearing orange jackets, while most of the unicorns have been wearing dark blue jackets like yours. Isn’t orange the enlisted color and blue the officer color?”

“Yes, miss, that’s right,” Caramel said. “Mostly maintenance jobs are considered lower-grade work than, say, working in the CIC—that’s ‘Combat Information Center.’”

“So ranks’re based on jobs, 'n’ jobs’re based on tribes? 'N’ why is that?” Apple Bloom cut in. Between her tone and the fact that her accent was showing more than usual, Mac knew that Caramel was in trouble.

“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Twilight said, her head and ears down. “Equestria hadn’t had a real military for millennia when we started making the ponystars. I looked up the ancient regulations and ranking systems but nothing quite applied to our situation, so I had to cobble something together very quickly. I’m sorry, Apple Bloom; I didn’t mean for the system to be biased against earth ponies.”

Apple Bloom was clearly torn; Mac could tell that the situation still bothered her, but that she didn’t want to be mad at Twilight. Finally she blushed slightly and said, “Well, as long as it was an accident. Heck, maybe we can fix it up after the decommissioning.”

Twilight looked relieved. “Thanks, Apple Bloom. And yes; I’ll write to the Princesses as soon as we’re done here.”

Lieutenant Caramel had the look of a pony who wanted to be anywhere but where he was. “So, uh, ladies… And Mr. Apple… How about we go on up to the CIC and see how the Celestia is run?”

This idea met with a round of general agreement, as well as a sneeze from Applejack.

As the group made their way through the ship’s passageways, Mac positioned himself near Applejack. “AJ. You okay?” he asked quietly.

“Huh?” she said; she looked like her mind had been wandering. “Oh, hey Mac. Naw, I’m fine; it’s just dusty in here. Stale air, y’know?” She sniffed, and it sounded like she was trying to polish off a milkshake.

Mac said nothing.

“Aw, don’t fret ‘bout me. You’ve already got Pinkie to look after.”

Mac frowned, but knew that AJ would have to come around on her own. It was strange, though; he’d always heard that only pegasi could get the feather flu.

“Hi, everypony!” came a cheerful mare’s voice.

The group turned to see Cheerilee approaching from down a branching passageway, and paused to let the schoolteacher catch up. When she had, her green eyes seemed to dance as she took in the sight of the former Cutie Mark Crusaders. For their part, the three young mares swept their former teacher up in a huge hug.

“Oh my little ponies, it’s so nice to see you all again! Ah, Scootaloo! Those must be the prosthetic wings Apple Bloom wrote me about! They look amazing!”

“Thanks!”

Mac noticed Twilight rolling her eyes for some reason.

“Speaking of! Apple Bloom, I still can’t believe that you designed this ship!” Cheerilee gushed.

“Aw, I didn’t do it all by myself, Miss Cheerilee…”

“Just ‘Cheerilee,’ Apple Bloom, I insist! You girls have certainly earned that! Oh, and Sweetie Belle! I have every one of your albums!”

“Wow, really?!”

Cheerilee nodded, adamant. “Absolutely. Your voice is amazing! I’m so glad you finally got over your stage fright! And to think, you three used to worry that you’d never get those!” She pointed to each young mare’s flank. “I hope you agree that they were worth the wait; those are some of the most amazing cutie marks I’ve ever seen!”

The trio was at a loss for words; they seemed half proud and half embarrassed by Cheerilee’s compliments.

“Oh, that reminds me! Sweetie Belle, Captain Soarin’ of the Wonderbolts would like to see you, if you have a moment.”

“Wait,” said Scootaloo. “You know Soarin’? And not that I’m not glad to see you, but what are you doing up here? Did you join the military?”

Cheerilee laughed. “Oh, no, no. I’m not in the military—no jacket, see?” Sure enough, she was as naked as most of the tour group. “I just stop by the Celestia every now and again to advise the instructors here on their teaching techniques. Commander Agrippa seems to value my experience as a schoolteacher; he also says I remind him of somepony. Anyway, that’s how I met the Wonderbolts—I’ve consulted with Major Spitfire and Captain Soarin’ both.”

“Oh…” Scootaloo said, clearly still confused.

“So what does Soarin’ want to talk to me about?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Well, he’s added another routine to the air show for the decommissioning, and he wanted you compose a song for it,” Cheerilee said.

“Another song?” Sweetie Belle complained. She stomped a hoof daintily on the deck, reminding Mac keenly of her sister. “I’ve already composed four all new pieces for this ceremony, not to mention the fact that I’ll be singing seven of my greatest hits and the national anthem!”

“Oh my!” Cheerilee said. “I had no idea they were working you so hard!” She paused for a moment, thinking. “I know! Rather than composing something, why don’t you use somepony else’s song? I bet most singers would be happy to have you cover their work, especially since you’re not making any money off of this.”

Sweetie Belle looked a bit calmer. “That might work… But which song?”

“How about ‘Eye of the Hydra?’ It’s about a pegasus anyway.” Cheerilee said.

Sweetie Belle raised an eyebrow. “I... don’t think I know that one.”

“I suppose it would be a bit before your time,” Cheerilee said, looking slightly embarrassed. “I could sing it for you, if you like… Oh, but it loses a lot without the instruments backing it up…”

“I’ve got you covered!” Pinkie said. Everypony looked to her; Pinkie was wearing a one-pony-band setup, including an enchanted guitar and most of a drum kit.

One of these days I’ll figure out how she does that, Mac promised himself with a small smile. Ah, who am I kidding? She’s Pinkie, and that’s that.

“Uh, okay…” Sweetie Belle said.

Her face a mix of nervousness and excitement, Cheerilee cleared her throat. She let Pinkie lead in with the music, then sang:

“Risin’ up, atop a roof;
Did my time, took my chances~.
Went the distance,
Now I’m back on my hooves,
Just a mare and her will to survive~.

So many times, it happens too fast;
You trade your passion for glory~.
Don’t lose your grip on the dreams of the past;
You must fight just to keep them alive~!

It’s the… eye of the hydra; it’s the thrill of the fight,
Rising up to the challenge of our rival!
And the last known survivor stalks her prey in the night,
And she’s watching us all with the eye~~ of the hydra!”

The song continued, but Mac was elsewhere. He hadn’t heard that song in a long, long time. It took him back to when he was just a gangly colt, doing his best in all of his classes even though he knew that most of them were useless to a farmer, pining for this filly or that, laughing with his friends.

He came back to himself as Cheerilee finished, and he stomped his applause. So did Pinkie, which caused quite the ruckus given that she was still wearing all of her instruments. The others applauded too, but Mac could tell that most of them hadn’t been as moved as he was. Cheerilee met his eye and blushed.

When the applause died down Sweetie Belle said, “Wow… That was—”

“That was awesome!” Scootaloo interrupted. She turned to Sweetie Belle. “You’ve got to sing that during the air show!”

“Really?! I—I mean, you liked it that much?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Heck yeah!”

“Well, okay then,” Sweetie Belle said. Turning to Cheerilee she added, “Thank you very much for the song, Mis—um, I mean—Cheerilee.”

Cheerilee’s ears were folded back; she’d had more time to be embarrassed, and had apparently used it well. “Oh, of course! I’m, uh, glad you all liked it!”

“Come on, Sweetie Belle! Let’s go tell Soarin’ he’s got a song!” Scootaloo said.

The two headed off down another passageway; Cheerilee also parted with the group. After a short detour to the head, Lieutenant Caramel finally led the remaining ponies to the CIC. Pinkie had shed her instruments somewhere along the way, but nopony actually saw it happen. Mac was finally interested in the tour for its own sake. Aboard the Firefly he’d only risen to Petty Officer First Class, and he’d always been curious about the ship’s nerve center.

Even with the Celestia simply moving in a mostly straight line at a low speed, the CIC was a hub of activity. Quiet, controlled activity, but activity nonetheless. Everypony here wore the dark jacket of an officer, regardless of tribe. A chocolate-brown earth pony mare was speaking into a headset, likely addressing her counterpart on another airship. In the center of the room, next to a glowing table showing a map of Ponyville, a black-maned unicorn was levitating several clipboards and speaking softly with the Celestia’s top two ponies. Both were pegasus stallions; one had a dark tan coat and a craggy face, the other was gray-on-gray and was missing a wing. The one-winged pegasus looked up from the unicorn’s clipboards and glared at the tour group.

“Over here we have Communications, then Damage Control, which can be used to open or seal parts of the ship and re-route power to different areas,” Caramel was saying. “Just past that is Resource Management, which is where we monitor the amount of food and water left aboard. Thanks to the redundancies built into her—Oh! Bless you, Dame Apple—the Celestia can theoretically stay airborne for months without stopping for supplies. On the other side there is the TUC—that’s Tactical Unicorn Coordination—then the control panel for the Rainboom Drive, then Navigation, then—”

“Lieutenant Caramel.”

Their guide turned, and jumped slightly when he saw the gray-on-gray pegasus standing right behind him, glaring.

“Y-yes, Colonel?” Caramel stammered.

“I believe I told you to take these ponies on a tour,” the Colonel said, his voice a growl.

“Yes, sir. That’s why I—”

“As in, ‘Keep them out of the CIC so we can get some work done without tripping over feathered civilians!’”

“Well, actually—”

Apple Bloom stepped up. “I’d hardly call us civilians, Colonel…?”

“Salt Tie,” he said, turning his glare and growl on her. “And just who the hay are you supposed to be?”

“Well, Colonel Tie, if you want to keep the straight course you’ve got plotted on that navigational board, you’ll want to increase output on the number four wind talisman by three percent,” Apple Bloom said, as though she were discussing the weather.

Tie glared at her for a moment. “Lieutenant Gate!” he barked.

The clipboard-holding unicorn trotted up. “Sir?”

“What’s the current output on WTs three and four?” Tie asked, not breaking eye contact with Apple Bloom.

Gate trotted over to a console that Caramel hadn’t pointed out yet and studied the screen. “Number three talisman reads sixty percent output. Number four reads… Fifty-six percent.”

“You’re off by a percent,” the Colonel sneered, leaning in towards Apple Bloom.

The yellow mare’s tone and expression were condescending now. “Don’t tell me none of y’all ever figured out that number four always reads one percent lower than it’s actually puttin’ out.”

Tie leaned back, his expression turning neutral. He turned to the unicorn. “Mr. Gate, correct the output on WT four by three percent.” Turning back, he asked Apple Bloom, “How’d you know all that? Are you a spy?”

The Colonel’s tone was serious, but Apple Bloom took his last question for the joke it was. Smiling now, she said, “I didn’t install mirrors in the corners of the ceiling so y’all could look at yourselves; they’re up there so you can keep an eye on every station from down by the tactical board.” She gestured first to the table with the map of Ponyville, and then to the console Lieutenant Gate had examined. “'N’ I stared at the wind talisman console so long trying to figure out what was going on with number four that I can read the darn thing backwards like that,” she added, snapping her tail like a whip.

The crag-faced pegasus approached and offered a forehoof to the young mare. “You must be Apple Bloom,” he said. There was the faintest trace of a smile on his face and in his tone. “I’m Commander Agrippa. It’s a pleasure to finally meet one of the masterminds behind the ponystars.” Apple Bloom hesitated a moment, but eventually took Agrippa’s hoof in two of hers and shook.

Tie shot Agrippa a look that Mac read as dubious. Agrippa said, “What, Salt? Don’t you think her cutie mark looks like the one stamped on the plating inside the Resource Management console?” Turning back to Apple Bloom he added, “We had to open it up for repairs a few months ago.”

Colonel Tie thought for a moment. “Well, I’ll be…” he said, recognition dawning on his face. “You’re right. I didn’t recognize it because it was inside of a heart, next to—”

“Ooooh, what does this button do?” Pinkie asked loudly. Everypony turned to her and froze in horror as one pink hoof descended.

*Click*

Something loud happened somewhere, and the CIC trembled slightly.

“SOMEPONY GET THESE CIVILIANS OUT OF THE CIC BEFORE I HAVE YOU ALL COURT-MARTIALED!” Tie bellowed in a fair impression of the Royal Canterlot Voice.

“Status report,” Commander Agrippa said. Mac could hear his concern and anger, but they were tightly controlled.

Caramel was still staring at Pinkie and the Damage Control console, his jaw hanging.

Lieutenant Gate galloped over to Damage Control. He looked willing to shove Pinkie out of the way, but she stepped aside just before he got there. The unicorn scanned the console carefully, then sighed in relief. “She performed an emergency jettison, Commander, but it was on Cargo Bay Seventeen,” he called down to Agrippa. “Seventeen was empty to begin with.”

Caramel snorted in fear and galloped out of the CIC, almost bowling over a young mare attempting to enter. The Colonel was not mollified; his face was still changing colors as though he’d tasted liquid rainbow. Applejack sneezed. Commander Agrippa turned to Apple Bloom, his face completely calm; Mac hoped he never ended up at a poker table with that stallion.

“Miss,” he said, “would you be so kind as to escort your…?”

“Sister-in-law,” Apple Bloom mumbled, mortified. “She’s, uh, a knight of the realm, too…”

Agrippa ignored that last part. “Would you be so kind as to escort your sister-in-law and the rest of your party to the galley—or some other part of my ship—where they can safely enjoy themselves?”

“Uh, right,” Apple Bloom said, her earlier feistiness gone. She turned to the rest of the group. “Let’s go, everypony; these folks have a job to do.”

Subdued, the party departed.

* * *

???, Aitselec Ratsynop. os ro setunim neetfif sunim T.

she was wandering which wasn’t unusual at all wandering was what she did most of the time ever since the terrible horrible evil ones did their terrible horrible evil deed and made her so alone alone lonely loneliness l one l i-ness it was really awful to be alone the only one of her kind kept away from everyone she loved love love love was such a cruel emotion it drew her to others who would then get swept away by the cold dark tides of the sea well not really the sea but life was like a hurricane here in ponyville and no wait that’s not how that goes that’s not how it was life here was boring ever since the terrible horrible evil ones did their terrible horrible evil deed and made her so alone except that she wasn’t alone not really there was her cousin or was she more of an aunt maybe a an ant several times removed ants were so small she felt so small when she was alone it was just the worst feeling in the world to be so alone and so helpless after all the world ran on magic she could see it all around and magic was friendship was magic so since she was alone she was powerless that’s why nopony liked her oh they’d pretend to for a little while say things like hi there are you okay why are you crying and then they’d get bored or turn into a pile of iguanas or take her back to their houses and keep up the lie don’t you think you should eat something and she’d say yes i’m so hungry may i have some cotton candy please very politely just like Daddy had taught her and they’d laugh at her or catch on fire or say i think you should have something healthier how about an apple and because she was a good girl like Daddy had taught her to be she’d say okay even though they never tasted right they never tasted like they used to when she was with Daddy every bite a new experience now they just tasted like fruit so bland so boring yes cotton candy always tasted the same too but it was cotton candy it was time travel a door that took her back to when Daddy was around and they would play and they would laugh oh how they’d laugh someday she was going to kill the terrible horrible evil ones kill them all rip their hearts out and make them watch and how she’d laugh no no no no no Daddy said

“Never kill, my dear; killing is—usually—permanent, and permanent is boring.”

that’s right boring boring was the worst possible thing even worse than being rude there was nothing as bad as being boring why oh why did the world have to be so boring and oh look there’s a dragon sleeping in this big wood-and-metal room she remembered the dragon his name was rainbow dash but no wait this dragon couldn’t be that dragon this dragon was big about the size of a pony or maybe bigger she had never been good with measurements like length or width or depth or heighth or weighth or timeth and he had wings she remembered rainbow dash rainbow dash was little and had no wings she’d considered making him wings but she’d been busy just playing in the muffin fields muffins were nice was this dragon mad at her oh no never mind he was just moving in his sleep she kept walking down the strange hallway how had she gotten here anyway well it wasn’t too important at least this was somewhere she’d never been before and that was a balm to her aching soul they should’ve sent a poet poets were good at describing things and they almost seemed to get her sometimes like really get her it’s like everyone is connected man you know and

there

she saw them and they didn’t see her they couldn’t see her she was behind them it was all of them no wait it was most of them not the white one but there were others a red one and a yellow one and a little one she couldn’t tell the color of inside the pink one

the pink one

the evil one

the evil one the worst of them all the race-traitor turned and looked straight at her did she see could she see no she couldn’t see her she couldn’t or else there was no way she’d make it out of here they’d turn her to stone just like Daddy just like Daddy the evil one was smiling smiling her evil smile that didn’t look evil at all it looked friendly but that was the trap that was the trap oh Daddy help me please i’m so scared

“Welcome back!”

she does see me she does this is the end i’ll never see Daddy again oh no behind me there’s the white one and wait an orange one with silver wings what in the world that’s new i like new things but the pink one the evil one oh she’s just talking to them not me she couldn’t see me after all oh oh oh my what a relief and look the white one isn’t even the white one it’s a different white one don’t they need all six to work their evil gypsy magic okay don’t stick around just keep on walking just keep walking and now they’re gone or she’s gone or at any rate she’s not where they are and what is this present tense well she did like presents and she was pretty tense so oh wait past tense now but she didn’t see any tents oh right of course she had passed tents on her way here it all made sense

* * *

T minus five minutes. Ponystar Celestia, starboard passageway #12.

Twilight surreptitiously studied Pinkie, though that was easier said than done. Even without her—ugh—Pinkie Sense, the pink earth pony was extremely observant. At a glance, nopony would ever suspect that Pinkie was constantly taking in every detail of her surroundings. In anypony else that habit would be extremely unsettling, but Pinkie almost exclusively used her superequine awareness to make other ponies’ lives better. If a mare was window-shopping and sighed at the cost of a hat at Carousel Boutique there was a good chance that the hat would be sold to a certain pastry chef within the week, only to reappear before the longing mare on her next birthday.

There was another obstacle in Twilight’s way: their friends. The party had reunited with Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo a few minutes ago, and it seemed like everypony and her sister wanted Twilight’s attention for something. Twilight loved her friends of course, but at the moment her mind was locked upon the puzzle of Pinkie’s behavior.

First off, the way she was acting right now was strange. Under normal circumstances Pinkie was always in the center of a group, contributing to conversations on the few occasions she wasn’t initiating them. For the past couple of minutes, though, she’d been distracted; she would lose the threads of conversations, and kept looking around as though she were trying to find something down each hall that they passed.

Then there was what Pinkie had done in the CIC. Pinkie could be… eccentric, but she was a grown mare and had been a knight of the realm for most of her adult life; she knew the difference between appropriate and inappropriate behavior in a formal setting. Given that, why had she chosen to push a button—the function of which she could not have known—and call attention to herself in the process? Twilight considered it from several different angles, working it over and over in her mind. She was close; she could feel it. It was like the answer was staring her in the face…

“You okay, Twilight?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Huh?” Twilight blurted, stepping back, her train of thought lost. The young mare had sidled up next to Twilight while the purple unicorn was lost in thought.

“You looked like something was bothering you,” Apple Bloom elaborated.

“I did?”

The yellow earth pony nodded, her fluffy red mane bobbing as she did so. “Yep. You were doing this…” Apple Bloom slowly thrust her head forward until her neck was almost parallel to her spine. As she did she grimaced and narrowed her red-orange eyes until it looked like she was trying to find a bug on Twilight’s coat, and reached up with one hoof and tapped her chin gently. After a few seconds of this, she snapped back to a normal posture. “I call it ‘the Perplexor,’” she concluded with a smile.

I don’t really look like that when I’m thinking, do I?

“Yep, you really look like that sometimes,” Apple Bloom said. Before Twilight could respond, the younger mare smiled and added, “You just had ‘the Incredulator’ on.”

Frowning, Twilight raised an eyebrow.

“We worked side-by-side for years creating these ships, Twilight. You spend enough time with somepony, you learn to read them,” Apple Bloom said. Then her mouth scrunched up oddly and she glanced down and to the side for an instant. “Well, most folks learn.”

Twilight rested a consoling hoof on Apple Bloom’s shoulder. “Hey, don’t be upset; you’re actually really good at reading me.”

It must have been the right thing to say, because Apple Bloom laughed. When she finished, her eyes were sparkling the way Pinkie’s did when she was about to pull a prank. “Oh, Twilight,” Apple Bloom said. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Hi, Spike!” Twilight heard Pinkie say.

Twilight turned to see Pinkie hugging a Big Macintosh-sized slab of scale and muscle. Through trial and error, Twilight and Spike had learned that gradually indulging Spike’s natural draconic greed over a long stretch of time gave him a more normal growth cycle. As far as they could tell it still wasn’t quite the same as what “wild” dragons went through, but this way he was neither growing hundreds of feet in an afternoon nor trapped forever as a baby. Twilight missed being able to trot around Ponyville with her Number One Assistant on her back, but she had to admit that his current form was a better fit for his sharp, curious mind.

“Oh, uh, hey, Pinkie,” Spike said, returning the hug as though afraid he’d break Pinkie. It was extremely odd to hear that voice—almost the same as the one he’d had when they moved to Ponyville—coming out of that body. On all fours, Spike was roughly the same size and build as Big Macintosh. Spike actually looked surprisingly equine at the moment: his jaws and neck had just started to elongate, and though his wings were about the size of a pegasus’ they were still too small to provide lift for his bulky frame. On a moonless night, a pony could almost take him for one of the Night Guard’s pegasi. Almost was an important word, though, because no pony had a tail as long or thick as Spike’s. On two legs or four, Spike’s tail was a disaster zone: it seemed to think it was part of some other dragon entirely, one bent on destroying vases, knocking books off of shelves, and tripping ponies. Twilight estimated that Spike would get used to it around the time his voice started to crack, by which time she’d have gray in her mane. She decided to halt that train of thought.

“So!” Twilight blurted, getting Spike’s attention—and by extension the attention of everypony in their group. Ooops… Ears folding back and a blush spreading on her cheeks, she pressed on. “How’s the new mattress treating you?”

Squatting, Spike yawned and scratched at his bright green spines. Out of the corner of her eye, Twilight could see Fluttershy not fainting at the sight of Spike’s newest set of fangs. Barely.

Good job, Fluttershy!

“I dunno, Twilight,” Spike said. “Don’t get me wrong—it’s very comfy—but that’s almost a bad thing. I keep waking up wishing I’d slept in longer.”

“Hmmm…” The new mattress had two hundred and forty bits stuffed in with the normal stuffing. Spike enjoyed the feel of the coins as he slept, and they’d found out that it was also important for his growth that he knew the market value of his bedding. Twilight ran some quick calculations based on past experience, and decided that the optimum number of bits for his current size was likely two hundred and twenty. “Okay,” she said, “how about we cut it back to two hundred and ten?”

Spike glared at her, flaring his spines. “Two hundred thirty!” he snarled. Somehow Fluttershy continued to not pass out.

Twilight leaned back and lowered her head, as though intimidated. “Would two hundred and twenty be okay?”

Spike settled down onto his belly and grumbled for a moment, drumming his claws on the wood of the deck. “Fine,” he eventually said. “I’ll store the extra twenty somewhere else.”

“That’s an excellent idea,” Twilight said. She noticed that Apple Bloom was staring at her, a strange expression on her face. For a moment Twilight considered explaining the delicate dance of manipulating a dragon’s instincts, and how it was sometimes necessary even when Spike would normally be cooperative. Instead she flashed the young earth pony what she hoped was a cocky smirk and said, “I’ve got secrets too.”

Twilight wasn’t sure what reaction she had been expecting, but Apple Bloom’s almost-hungry smile and half-lidded eyes weren’t it. “Touché,” said Apple Bloom.

Out of the corner of her eye Twilight saw Applejack lean over to Big Macintosh. When Twilight turned her head slightly she could see that Applejack was whispering something to Big Macintosh. He shook his head. This little performance repeated twice, with Applejack looking more and more annoyed each time. On the fourth attempt, though, she sneezed in Big Macintosh’s ear. That was apparently all that Big Macintosh would tolerate. Glaring at Applejack he said, “You want to know so bad? Fine! Yes, yes she is. Happy?”

Apple Bloom put a hoof to her forehead. “Oh feather me sideways,” she said.

Confused by the Apple family’s actions, Twilight looked to Apple Bloom in concern. “Is something wrong with Pinkie?” she whispered.

Three things happened in extremely rapid succession:

Apple Bloom looked at Twilight as though she’d grown a second head made of singing daffodils.

Applejack vomited and collapsed, caught at the last moment by Fluttershy.

A voice spoke from everywhere and nowhere, thanks to the communication enchantments woven throughout the Celestia. Twilight distantly recognized it as belonging to Lieutenant Gate. “Action stations, action stations,” he said. “Set Condition Two throughout the ship. This is not a drill. I repeat: action stations, action stations. Set Condition Two throughout the ship. This is not a drill.”