Secrets in The Stars

by CommissarVulpin

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Death, Alternate Universe, Original Character, Science Fiction, Profanity, Adventure, Violence
Length: 54824

Technology is increasing and ponies ply the stars for their secrets. But some secrets shouldn't be uncovered.

When Spring Bloom's lunar cruise is interrupted by a devastating accident, she suddenly finds herself thrust a century and a half into the future, and into the midst of a conspiracy.

Published 2020-09-12 18:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2022-03-10 03:59:26 UTC

1 - A Shooting Star

“Ponies are incredibly social creatures. We evolved from grazing herd animals, relying on strength in numbers for safety. After our ancestors developed into the modern Equus sapiens, that inbuilt sense of community led to the development of large settlements as we transformed from nomadic gathering to farming and husbandry. A pony’s psychology is incredibly dependent on companionship and a sense of belonging. What, then, might become of a pony who is deprived of such things?
“One might say that in our modern world, with its modern conveniences such as telephones and automobiles, a pony is more connected to her fellows than ever. She needn’t even leave the house to have a conversation or arrange an outing for a picnic. However, I would argue that the ponies of the modern age are more separated from each other than they have been in millennia. Technology has allowed the modern pony to have relationships with an order of magnitude more ponies than she would have a thousand years ago, but at what cost? The cost is that these relationships hold less value; that quantity has become favored over quality.
“In ages past, a pony’s whole world might be her small village. She would come to know everyone in it, and everyone would know her. Even in a city, a citizen would have close relationships with the ponies living or working nearby. Their community would be very close-knit.
“Is it bad that a pony’s community is less well-defined in the modern age? Not necessarily. However, it can lead to the situation of a pony feeling utterly alone. A missing parent, difficulty making friends, an unfulfilling career, or any number of other things can lead to a pony having no sense of community; no group that she can belong to. And that, in turn, can lead to what we’ll be discussing over the next few days: cults.
“Such organizations prey on the lonely and the disenfranchised; those who think that the world has failed them somehow. They give a community, a group of ponies with common beliefs and goals to belong to. And since this sense of belonging is so important in a pony’s psychology, so desperate is a pony’s mind for a community, that they will find their beliefs and goals changing to align with the cult’s. Because if she did not, she could be ostracized from the group. Such a change is entirely subconscious; the mind is a powerful thing.”

Spring Boom listened curiously from the back of the lecture hall. She had arrived early for her accounting course, and decided to listen in on the lecture taking place before hers. It was some kind of psychology class, if the subject matter was any indication. She briefly entertained the thought of attending some more lectures like this, but she had enough on her plate with her master’s accounting courses already.

“It appears we’ve run out of time,” she heard the professor say. “We’ll continue the discussion on Wednesday. No assignments for this session.”

She quickly stood to the side as dozens of half-asleep students began to file out of the lecture hall.

After the professor had left, she took a seat and waited for her own lecture to start. It was an admittedly fascinating course, dealing with the application of a new technology towards business accounting – the maneframe computer.

Maneframes weren’t new, strictly speaking; they had been around for over ten years at this point, but advances in magical technology allowed them to fit in a single room, and more and more businesses were purchasing them to help with their bookkeeping.

It was an advantage, then, for ponies entering the workforce to have knowledge on how to use the machines. Spring Bloom had heard stories of new graduates in the field now called ‘computer science’ being snatched up by technology companies barely a week after receiving their diploma. And even though such a field barely existed when Spring got her first degree, she had decided that going back to school to pursue her master’s would be an ideal opportunity to learn it. Hopefully it would help her land a high-paying job at one of the rapidly-growing computer companies, such as Starburst Computing Systems, whose maneframe was currently being projected at the front of the lecture hall.

“As an example,” the professor was explaining, “Here is the data input device of the SCS 604 installed at our university. It requires special cards, called punch cards, which have holes punched in them at specific points. The positions of these holes are then read by the machine, and the data is fed into the computer for processing. I have a card here, which I will be passing around for you to look at.”

When the card came to her, Spring took it in her magic and flipped it over and around, looking at it from all sides. The card consisted of ten rows, numbered zero through nine, and these numbers were repeated across dozens of columns. The words ‘EQUIN STATEMENT’ were printed across the top.

The student next to Spring raised his hoof when she passed him the card.

The professor paused her lecture. “Yes?”

“What does ‘EQUIN STATEMENT’ mean?”

The professor smiled slightly. “Ah, yes. I was going to mention that. It refers to something called a ‘programming language’. A computer program can be written in one of many different languages, as different from each other as Ponish and Zebrican. Our SCS maneframe speaks a language called EQUIN, short for Equation Interpretation. It’s a language designed for mathematical calculations, and we use it a lot for science and engineering work. In fact—” the professor reached under her lectern and pulled out a whole stack of punch cards, at least three hundred thick, held together with rubber bands, “—this is an EQUIN program I wrote to calculate the speed of sound in air, taking into account pressure, temperature, and humidity.”

From there, the professor continued to explain various peripheral equipment and their functions, such as magnetic core memory, reel-to-reel tape storage, and even a television-style device that could display images. The professor then ended the lecture with an announcement that next week’s session would focus more on operation of the computer, specifically data entry.

***

After class, Spring drove home in the dark and arrived to find her husband Starshine already in bed, reading under lamplight. She shed her bags and slumped into bed beside him, letting out a heavy sigh.

“How was class?” he asked after giving her a nuzzle.

“Interesting, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing these night classes. They’re exhausting.”

Starshine gave her a gentle smile. “Well, you only have to put up with it for a few more months, right?”

“I guess.”

She rolled over and snuggled up to him, burying her face in his chest. His fur smelled like a hospital, so she could guess with some confidence what his day had been like.

“More medical exams today?” She asked.

She felt him put his book down and wrap his forelegs around her. “Yep. Full physical, tip to tail. How could you tell?”

“You smell like antiseptic.”

“I even took a shower and everything! I’ll never understand that nose of yours.”

“How did it go?” She asked after a few moments.

Starshine chuckled. “Flying colors, as usual.”

Spring Bloom felt him puff out his chest a little. She couldn’t help but smile at that; he had always been a straight-A student, and a star hoofball player to boot. Sometimes Spring wondered why he had wanted to date her of all mares; there were plenty of far prettier ones on the cheerleading squad. But no, he picked her, the awkward one who barely squeaked by with a C in most of her classes.

“Sometimes I wonder why they keep doing that. You always pass. Doesn’t it seem like a waste of time?”

“You know how these things are, honey. They have to be thorough. What if something happened in orbit? It’s not exactly easy to provide medical care up there. The whole crew needs to be at one-hundred percent.”

Spring snuggled a little tighter. “I’m worried.”

“About the launch?” he asked, to which she nodded.

Starshine didn’t respond right away, simply stroking her mane. This was a worry Spring had had since his very first trip into space. She had been a nervous wreck that first time, barely sleeping at all until his hooves were back on the ground. To make matters worse, he would be flying to the launch complex in Baltimare tomorrow, so she wouldn’t even be able to see him for a whole week before the launch.

“That’s why they’re being so careful about everything,” he said, trying to assuage her fears. “They’re trying their best to make absolutely sure that nothing goes wrong. I’m sure the engineers are being just as thorough with the ship as the doctors are being with my health.”

Spring didn’t say anything. She knew there was nothing he could say to make her apprehension disappear completely, but she appreciated the effort.

“What will you be doing in space?” Spring asked, curious about his mission despite the dangers.

“Well, I…”

Spring pulled away and looked him in the eye, frowning at his nervous pause.

“What?”

“I’ve been told by my superiors that this mission is to be kept secret,” he replied. “Although I don’t really know why…”

Starshine’s missions had never been secret before. They were always boring drivel like conducting experiments or observing the surface. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious, but she had to restrain herself. If he couldn’t tell her anything, he couldn’t tell her, and that was that.

He must have sensed her discomfort, because he continued with, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt too much if I told you a little about it.”

Spring’s ears perked up. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Like I said, I don’t see why they’re bothering to keep it a secret. I don’t see how this could be sensitive. But just to be safe, I want you to promise not to tell anypony, okay?”

Spring nodded quickly, eager to hear what this ‘top-secret’ mission was about.

“We’re being given a special machine to measure some kind of magic field in space. Apparently the magic fields of the planet would cause interference, so we’re taking readings in orbit.”

Spring blinked. “That’s it?”

“That’s it. See what I mean?”

“Huh. I thought it would be something more…intriguing.”

“Exactly. But they must have a good reason, so you have to keep it secret.”

“I will.”

Starshine’s face cracked into a yawn, and he rolled over onto his back. “I should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

He turned off the light, and Spring felt his breathing slow a few minutes later. She couldn’t settle down as easily, her mind racing into all the ways she could imagine a rocket launch going wrong, and fretting over all the ways she couldn’t imagine. Eventually, her exhaustion took over and she fell into a fitful sleep.

***

The next week passed by in a blur. Starshine spent that time in medical quarantine, forbidden from leaving the launch complex to prevent catching anything that might affect his performance before launch. Spring had gotten her train tickets and hotel room in Baltimare a day early, so she had at least been able to see him the night before the launch. They had been separated by a rope cordon and a two-lane road at the launch site, but it had calmed her nerves a little.

Spring currently sat on the bleachers in the observation area, watching the rocket on its launch pad on the other side of Horseshoe Bay. It was a tall bluish cylinder with a gold tip, delicately supported by the grey latticework of the tower next to it. She knew from pictures that it was painted with flowing blues and purples, scattered with stars to be reminiscent of Princess Luna – without whom Equestria’s space program would never have become a reality – but at this distance, it simply looked like an elegant fountain pen stood up on its end. She also knew that the very tip of the fragile cylinder held three ponies, her husband among them.

Gradually, the bleachers filled up. Huge rotating platforms bristling with cameras were set up, oriented to film the rocket as it took off. Enough ponies had gathered that some had to sit on the grass, but Spring was no longer surprised that so many had shown up to watch. Witnessing an Equestrian rocket liftoff was one of the most breathtaking sights ever beheld by pony eyes.

For the benefit of the crowd, a large clock had been brought to the site, so the audience could watch the countdown.

“All systems are go. Ready for launch,” a voice announced over the loudspeakers. “Sixty seconds to liftoff.”

The clock began to count down, and the sound from the audience instantly changed from excited chatter to apprehensive silence.

“Thirty seconds.”

“Fifteen seconds.”

“Ten…nine…eight…seven…ignition sequence start.”

As she watched, a huge cloud of white and grey smoke spewed from the base of the rocket and shot out horizontally to each side.

“Four…three…two…one.”

On ‘one’, the white cylinder began to move slowly upward. As it rose, a bright plume of fire could be seen erupting from its base.

“And we have liftoff of Sunrise Four, on August 8, 1665 at 8:11 am local time!” The announcer called excitedly.

The rocket gained speed as it ascended, soon clearing the support tower atop a column of smoke. Spring watched it climb, steadily growing faster as it quickly reached heights and speeds no pegasus could hope to match.

Then came the sound. She had been expecting it, and she could identify the newcomers by the gasps in the crowd. It started as a low rumble, growing in volume and intensity. It soon became a thunderous roar, even at this distance; a low crackling bass that betrayed the power behind it. She could feel it vibrating in her chest. The roar then began to dissipate as the rocket became nothing more than a point of light slowly arcing upwards and out towards the ocean.

Once the show was over, the crowd began to disperse, and the camera crews began to put away their equipment. Spring Bloom, however, remained standing on the grass, staring at the plume of grey smoke that still lingered around the launchpad. She felt a tear forming in her eye, partly from the breathtaking scene which had just transpired, but mostly from knowing her husband was strapped to the top of that thing.

“Is this your first launch?” A soothing voice came from behind her. She spun around to see the graceful form of Princess Celestia standing there.

It was a sight she had only seen on TV and in pictures, neither of which did justice to the real thing. Though she still wore her golden shoes, her usual tiara and gorget had been eschewed in favor of a radio headset and a vest emblazoned with an ESA patch.

Spring’s manners quickly took over and she took a quick bow. “Your Majesty, I… no. It’s actually my fourth.”

“I can’t blame you for coming back. Isn’t it amazing?”

“Well, yes, but… my husband is up there, and… it looks really dangerous.” She hated how much she sounded like a whimpering filly right now, in front of the Princess.

The Princess’ expression, however, was one of gentle sympathy.

“Ah. I can assure you, the utmost precautions have been taken to ensure the safety of the crew. Nothing is more valuable than a pony’s life.”

“I know, and I keep telling myself that… he’s been on three missions before this, and he’s always come home safe, but I can never stop thinking about what could happen.”

Princess Celestia smiled compassionately, and leaned down to meet Spring Bloom eye-to-eye.

“How about this?” She said softly as she magically removed her headset and placed it over Spring Bloom’s ears. “That will let you listen to everything that goes on.”

Spring Bloom smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

***

“Okay, second stage jettison,” Snowberry, the capsule pilot, said as he pressed the proper button. The explosive bolts detonated as normal, driving the spent fuel tanks and engines away from the ship, leaving only the capsule and its small engine drifting in orbit.

“Haha!” Summer Breeze, the chief science officer, was beaming from ear to ear as she unbuckled her restraints and removed her helmet. “This is my favorite part!” She used her wings to help her drift about the cabin in microgravity. No longer restrained by her helmet or the tug of gravity, her mane drifted freely and assumed wild shapes around her head.

“I’m just glad the launch is over,” Snowberry said with relief as he, too, unbuckled himself and floated about. “How many gees did we pull? Four?”

“Sounds about right.” Starshine removed his harness and helmet as well, but remained in his seat.

“I just love being up here,” Summer Breeze mused as she drifted over to the window. Four hundred kilometers below them lay the planet Equus, the continents forming their characteristic shapes. White clouds obscured parts of it, conforming to various weather and wind patterns.

“Okay guys, get back in your seats,” Starshine instructed after letting the crew drift around for a few minutes. “Snowberry needs to make our orbital insertion burn soon and I don’t want you slamming into anything.”

Summer Breeze and Snowberry both complied, and made their way back into their respective seats. They buckled themselves in, and Snowberry began taking various measurements from the array of dials.

After doing some quick calculations, the pilot punched a few numbers into the ship’s computer, which took command of the reaction control system and began to gently tilt the spacecraft around. Puffs of white gas made the ship slowly turn to face in the correct direction for the next burn of the engine, and then a few more puffs of gas slowed it to a halt. Another command to the computer gave it the parameters for the engine burn, and a final confirmation set the computer counting down until it would light the engine and give the ship its final push into orbit.

Confirmation came with a noticeable vibration, and the astronauts felt themselves pushed back in their seats slightly from the acceleration. A few seconds later, the computer shut off the engine again.

“Alright, you can go back to floating around again,” Starshine said. “Let’s check in with control and start with our on-orbit checklists.”

***

Spring Bloom sat in her hotel room, listening intently to every radio exchange between the Horizon station and mission control. Not everything they said was over the radio; she couldn’t hear the conversations between individual crew members, for instance.

Most of the chatter was Mission Control checking up on the crew, to which they’d respond with their respective statuses; everything always checked out okay. From what she was able to discern, they were conducting experiments on much more than just the magic field Starshine had talked about. Her head spun with technical jargon that she couldn’t make head nor tail of, but her ears perked up at the mention of something called ‘the Box’.

***

“We read you five-by, Control. Sun’s just coming up on our side, you should really be here to see this.”

Starshine watched the planet slowly turn beneath the small spacecraft as he spoke to the control station on the surface. The ship was crossing the dawn terminator – the border between night and day – and the sun was peeking over the horizon in a stunning display of light and colors.

The reply from Mission Control came quickly. “Copy, you’re coming through nice and clear on our end. Once you’ve got your magnetometry gear stowed, we’re gonna have you guys go ahead and set up the Box.”

Starshine confirmed the request from Control, then pushed himself from the cockpit into the small laboratory behind the seats. Space was a premium here, and the spacecraft designers had packed everything as tightly as they could get away with. The absence of a definite ‘up’ in microgravity proved to be an advantage here, as every interior surface could be covered with stowage space and scientific equipment. There was no need to provide a surface for a pony to stand.

Summer Breeze was already inside, stowing a device securely onto a bulkhead. The lab was just large enough for two ponies to work side-by side, and Starshine sidled up to her as she finished.

“Got that thing secure?” he asked.

Summer allowed herself to gently drift away from the bulkhead and turned to face Starshine, throwing him a mock salute as she did so. “Everything ship-shape here, cap’n!” The gesture was made even more ridiculous by the fact that she was currently upside-down from Starshine’s point of view.

“Outstanding. You know where we stowed the Box, right?”

“That brass steampunk-looking thing? Yeah, it’s right here.” Summer turned to another bulkhead and started unstrapping a rectangular box made of brass and wood, with an obvious gauge on the front and a few buttons and lights. The whole assembly looked like it could have come straight from a 150-year-old science fiction novel.

The thing about this device that first piqued Starshine’s interest was that it wasn’t a standard ESA experiment. It had, in fact, been built by some other group of scientists, and had been given to the space agency so that they could take readings in space. They had paid good money, so there was no problem there, but the whole thing had been very hush-hush. It was as if this mystery group was trying to keep the purpose of this experiment from as many ears as possible, to the extent that not even the astronauts performing the experiment knew exactly what it was.

She hoofed it over to him, and Starshine started pressing buttons in the way he had been trained to start up the device. Some of the lights started to flash in indecipherable patterns, and the gauge on the front slowly rose to about a quarter of the way up.

“Now that’s interesting…” he mused.

“How so?” Summer asked.

“This gauge here was pegged at zero when it was tested on the ground. I thought that was strange, since if it measured magic fields, wouldn’t it have picked up something from Equestria? But now it’s detecting something in space that doesn’t exist on the surface.”

As Summer pondered the implications of that, Starshine opened up communications with Mission Control again.

“Control, Sunrise.”

“Roger Sunrise, go ahead.”

“I’m getting some strange readings from the Box.”

“Strange how?”

“The gauge was pegged zero on the ground, but now it’s reading 248, about a quarter of the way up.”

“Well, the scientists who built this thing told us to expect strange readings, and just record them anyway. So just keep taking measurements every half hour or so.”

“Roger.”

As Starshine continued to take regular readings from the device, he suddenly got the strange feeling that somepony was watching him. The fur at the nape of his neck stood up, and he turned around, but Snowberry and Summer were both back in the cockpit. He returned to watching the gauge, but he couldn’t shake the inexplicable feeling that something was in the capsule with him.

***

Three days later, all of the experiments required for their stay in space had been completed, and the Sunrise crew was making their preparations to return. Everything in the lab was stowed and secured, and the three astronauts were strapped into their seats, busy working through their respective checklists. Starshine listened in as Snowberry coordinated the ship’s final maneuver with Mission Control.

“Okay, Sunrise, we’ve got you starting de-orbit burn at T-minus six minutes, thirty seconds on my mark.”

“Roger, locking in the burn.”

Snowberry punched the required parameters into the computer and waited for the signal to begin the countdown.

“Mark.”

The capsule’s pilot pressed the button, and the computer began to silently count down, ticking the seconds until the engine would be re-lit to slow them down and allow the planet’s gravity to pull them back home. After floating for days in the cold vacuum of space, the engine would have to start up again flawlessly in order to perform the required de-orbit maneuver.

“De-orbit burn locked in for T-minus six minutes even, on my mark…mark.”

“Looks good on our end, Sunrise. We’ll monitor the burn from here and let you know when to expect comms blackout.”

“Roger.”

Six minutes later, the computer gave the command to ignite the engine. Starshine felt the rocket ignite beneath him, shuddering the whole ship. He felt the vibrations intensify as the engine slowly throttled up.

Suddenly, there was a violent rattling noise, followed by a sickening screech. An alarm began to sound, followed by others as the rocket shut off.

“What the hay… main engine shutoff. Amp surge in turbopump circuit,” Starshine reported.

Snowberry’s eyes snapped to his control panel, and quickly scanned the flashing alerts and gauges. Starshine saw him focus on the pressure gauge for turbopump #2, which had quickly fallen to zero.

“Oxygen turbopump failure,” He said to the other two.

The rocket was fueled with supercooled liquid hydrogen kept in insulated tanks, and then boiled off as it was needed. In order to burn the hydrogen in space, a supply of liquid oxygen was also kept. The two were mixed, and then ignited. The explosive reaction then was directed out the nozzle at the rear of the ship. Normally, two turbopumps would constantly supply the rocket with dozens of gallons of hydrogen and oxygen every second; however, the oxygen turbopump had stopped. Without oxygen, the hydrogen being vented out could not be ignited, and the rocket had stopped.

“Roger. See if you can get it started again,” Starshine responded.

Snowberry searched for a way to start the pump again. He pressed a button labeled OMS PUMP TEB INJECT a few times. The control would normally send a shot of highly volatile chemicals through the fuel system, which would hopefully kickstart the turbopumps; but aside from a series of muffled thumps, there was no effect.

[1]As Snowberry lifted his hoof to try another switch, the pump’s pressure suddenly shot up again…but Starshine didn’t have time to process it before a giant explosion rocked the cabin. Starshine grunted as he was thrown to the side against his restraints. Alarms screamed from all sides, filling the cabin with noise. Through the window, he could see sunlight flashing periodically as the ship tumbled.

“Control, something’s gone wrong here.”

Over the radio, a mission controller replied. “Yeah, we’re reading a huge voltage drop here. Accelerometers going crazy, turbopumps nonresponsive… what’ve you got?”

“Um… nav ball is showing some pretty significant rotation… something’s put us into a spin. RCS is straining to keep up… Did you say turbopumps plural?”

“Roger, Sunrise, both the oxygen and the hydrogen pumps are offline.”

“Right. Uh, we’re reading zero on the main oxygen tanks, what’ve you got, Control?”

“We’ve got the same thing. Oxygen zero, hydrogen 725 and falling. We’re reading undervolt on main busses 1 and 2, also.”

“Roger that, Control. What about backup oxygen?”

“Backup oxygen looks good. We’re picking up some oscillations, but the level seems stable. What the hay just happened?”

“Turbopump #2 failed, and then there was a huge explosion.”

There was a pause. “Sunrise, we’re going to have to leave you for a minute and deliberate down here. Could you sit tight for a bit?”

“Roger, Control. We’ll see if we can get it under control; we keep coming awful close to gimbal lock.”

***

Back on the surface, in Mission Control, the technicians were conversing with each other behind their computer consoles. At the behest of the flight director, a stern stallion with a flat-top manecut, the technician in charge of the electrical and environmental systems reported first.

“Okay, let’s start at the beginning. Readouts show a number 2 turbopump failure four seconds before everything went off the charts. Current main oxygen levels are zip, hydrogen is draining fast. Both fuel cells are offline, the ship is running on battery power right now.”

The pony in charge of communicating with the astronauts spoke up next.

“We keep losing communications, and guidance tells me their gimbal is all over the place. If that’s not indicative of a tumble, I don’t know what is.”

The flight director thought for a moment. “Ask them to look out the window, see if they’re venting anything into space.”

***

Aboard the spacecraft, Starshine continued to struggle with the controls as the ship fought his attempts to stabilize it.

“Sunrise, Control. Could you take a look out the window and see if there’s any kind of gas coming from the ship?”

Starshine’s blood ran cold at the implication, but turned to look out the window. He saw a cloud of white gas spewing from the cylindrical body of the spacecraft, right where the fuel tanks should be.

“I confirm, Control. We are venting something into space.”

There was a pause. “Copy that, Sunrise. The techs here are saying your oxygen tank ruptured. That gas you’re seeing is the last of the hydrogen, since the tank was probably damaged in the explosion.”

Starshine froze. He glanced to his crewmates. They were both acting calm and collected, the picture of space agency professionalism. But he could see in their eyes that they were afraid.

“Roger that, Control.”

***

“There’s no immediate danger, because the breathing oxygen supply appears to be undamaged. We can divert the backup oxygen to run the fuel cells and keep power, but without an engine they’re not getting out of orbit.”

The flight director spoke up. “What’s their orbital profile look like? Can someone pull that up on the monitors?”

After some scrambling, the huge multi-panel television display at the front of the mission control room sprung to life with an image of the planet represented as a circle. Drawn around it was another circle, indicating the projected path of the Sunrise capsule.

“Okay, the small burn they managed to get in only got their periapsis down to… about 300 kilometers.”

“How many orbits will it take for them to reach final re-entry?”

“They’ll be just scraping the edge, so it’s going to take a few passes. We won’t be able to predict the landing site, though.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Right now I just want to focus on getting those pilots back on the ground.”

***

Spring Bloom sat glued to her headset, eyes brimming with tears. Something had gone wrong with her husband’s ship, and that might mean he wouldn’t come home. Mission control said their oxygen tanks exploded, right? Don’t ponies need oxygen to breathe? What if he suffocates? Worst-case scenarios filled her thoughts as the radio silence dragged on.

She perked up as the radio connection sprung to life again.

“Okay, Sunrise, you there?”

“Roger, Control, we hear you.”

“Okay, we’ve determined that your short burn there was enough for re-entry within a few orbits. However, we can’t predict where you’ll end up.”

“If it means getting my hooves on solid ground, I don’t care where I end up.”

“We had a feeling you’d say that. So go ahead and jettison your engine and try to get yourselves stable again.”

There was a pause. “Okay, Control. Final stage is cut, and RCS is doing a good job of getting rid of that spin.”

“Can you see the engine?”

“One second… yeah, there it is. Holy Celestia…”

“What are you seeing?”

“One whole side of the housing is gone. The engine looks heavily damaged, and the turbopumps are shredded. The oxygen tank is completely blown apart, and the hydrogen tank looks like a crushed soda can.”

“Roger that, Sunrise.”

“Could the explosion have damaged our heatshield?”

“Say again, Sunrise?”

“I said will our heatshield be alright?”

Another long pause. “To be honest, Sunrise, we don’t know. There’s no other way to get you out of orbit, though, and you can’t avoid re-entry even if you wanted to, with your engine out of the picture. So we’ll just have to wait and find out.”

***

Forty minutes later, Sunrise began its first aerobraking pass. The tiny capsule skimmed the edges of the atmosphere; however, there was not enough drag to slow its orbit down enough to land. Sunrise would have to make two or three more passes before its velocity was slowed enough to fall back down to the planet’s surface.

***

Spring Bloom had the hotel’s television set turned on now, flipping through news channels as she desperately searched for any information she could find about her husband’s spacecraft. The more rational side of her mind was gently insisting that her headset gave her the best source of information possible, but that side was being drowned out by panic. As she came around to the primary new channels again, she stopped short as she heard the anchor say some familiar words.

“…Equestrian Space Administration, who has requested an urgent press release to be distributed to all news networks.” The anchor slid over a sheet of paper on his desk and began to read it.

“’The Equestrian Space Administration would like to inform the public about a developing situation aboard the Sunrise spacecraft currently in orbit. We cannot go into detail until more information becomes available, but the most important effect to note is that the spacecraft is currently off-course and heading for an unknown landing spot. At approximately 6:30 pm Canterlot Standard Time, be on the lookout for a streaking light in the sky, headed west to east. If you should see such a light, please notify the Equestrian Space Administration’s office immediately.’”

The anchor looked up from the sheet and adjusted his glasses. “Well, it appears that our astronauts are in a bit of a bind right now, but I’m sure everything will be just fine. To shed some more light on the topic, I’ve called EBC’s technical correspondent, Jet Stream, to the news desk.”

The camera zoomed out to show a pegasus stallion sitting next to the news anchor, who had a model of the golden, gumdrop-shaped space capsule next to him.

“Thank you. Something that our viewers might not know are the conditions that the capsule needs to withstand during re-entry. Orbiting the planet requires the spacecraft to be moving very fast, covering over seven and a half kilometers every second. Of course, coming back to Equus means they have to slow back down again. The easiest way to do this is simply falling back into the atmosphere and letting air resistance do the work for you.”

The news anchor broke in to ask a question. “Couldn’t you use unicorn magic to slow down the spacecraft?”

“You have to remember that the spacecraft is a four-meter wide object moving twenty-two times the speed of sound, three hundred kilometers off the ground. It’s impossible to even see it in orbit.

“Which brings me to the next challenge: when you’re moving that fast, even the air is a serious obstacle. The shockwave from the spacecraft causes the air to heat up around the spacecraft to over 1600 degrees. This is far too hot for even magical shields, so the spacecraft uses a specialized heatshield constructed of materials designed to burn away and carry the heat with it. If this shield is damaged in any way, however, heat can make its way inside and destroy the capsule in a matter of seconds. Then, after re-entry, a series of parachutes will open to slow it down for a safe landing in the ocean.”

“I hate to sound like a broken record,” the news anchor spoke up again, “but couldn’t unicorn magic be used to catch the spacecraft instead of parachutes?”

“In theory, yes,” the technical correspondent replied. “But even the most accurate landings ended up as many as two or three kilometers away from the recovery ships. Our earlier forays into space ended up landing hundreds of kilometers away. Relying on a team of unicorns to consistently see and catch a 25-ton spacecraft plummeting at five hundred kilometers per hour is too unsafe to risk, so automatic parachutes are used instead.”

The pegasus gave a wry smile. “Unicorns are, however, used to lift the capsule onto the recovery ship once its landing site is located. I’ve heard this process is far gentler than the original impact with the sea.”

***

After two more orbits around the planet, Sunrise’s velocity was finally lowered enough to fall back down to the surface. The sun had set on this side of the planet, and so the capsule would be descending through dark skies.

“Okay Sunrise, this is it. You’re coming in for a re-entry this time.”

“Roger, control. How long until blackout?”

“About five minutes.”

“Copy. See you on the other side.”

Soon, the crew began to see red-hot gases fly past the windows. The blunt shape of the capsule shoving its way through the air at hypersonic speeds was causing the atmospheric gases to heat up into a plasma. This plasma interfered with radio communication, cutting off all contact with ground control.

Both mission control and Spring Bloom held their breath, waiting for the moment when the Sunrise capsule would be slowed enough for the parachutes to open and safely lower it to the ground.

***

That night, there was a shooting star above Saddle Arabia.

Author's Note

Special thanks to Tiwake for pre-reading and editing.

Recommended listening: I like to listen to music as I write to set the right mood. I'm experimenting with incorporating that into the story in a way that is hopefully as unobtrusive as possible, with a superscript number in brackets.
[1] Apollo 13 Soundtrack - Master Alarm

2 - Apoapsis

MEMORANDUM

10 February 1666

TO: Outer Space Research Team
FROM: Subtle Spark

The Sunrise disaster six months ago has shaken us all to our core, and I think I speak for all of us when I say that we joined Equestria in mourning. The disaster has also had a more personal impact on this team, as the Sunrise IV spacecraft contained the shielded magical field measuring device (“The Box”) that our team has worked so hard to develop. I won’t blame any of you for feeling disappointed at the destruction of valuable data.
However, there is a spark of good news. ESA has concluded their internal investigation, and have authorized the release of the voice transcripts from the Sunrise IV mission. I am pleased to announce that one of the readings from The Box was relayed over the radio by the astronauts, and as a result there is a small amount of data we can recover. I’ll pass on the report to anyone who wants it, but the long-and-short of it is that there IS something up there. There’s some kind of field that hasn’t been noticed by any unicorn in space, not even during the Moon landing missions. I believe this warrants future study.

CC: Twilight Sparkle

***

Sixteen years later

“…after investigation, it was determined that the cause of the accident was a loose bolt that had made its way into the oxygen turbopump, jamming it. After the bolt worked itself loose, it created a spark which ignited the rest of the oxygen supply. The resulting explosion destroyed the pumps, crippled the engine, and damaged the heatshield. Still considered the worst accident in the history of Equestrian spaceflight, the three pilots tragically lost their lives when the craft disintegrated during re-entry…”

Spring Bloom stood up from her table in the break room and switched off the television. Every year on this day, there was always some mention of the fate which befell her husband and his crew sixteen years ago. There was no way she’d forget about it, but it hurt less now. Still, every time she heard them mentioned, she felt a pang of grief.

The developments in her life since she lost Starshine had been good, objectively speaking, but they always seemed a little harder without him there. Her graduation, just a few months after the accident, had been the worst; her family had been there to cheer for her, of course, but her eyes were constantly drawn to the empty seat next to them.

Her dream job at Starburst Computing Systems came not long after. Her education in computer science had allowed her to get a hoof in the door with the company at the cutting edge of business computers. At first she was just an accountant, but her experience with computers had led to her working more with the maneframes themselves. She found she quite liked working with computers and programming them. The extra pay didn’t hurt, either.

She had been forced to keep up with the technology, which had advanced at a shocking pace. At first she had been working with maneframes taking up an entire room, programming them exclusively with punch cards. Now, the machines had shrunk to the size of a large cabinet, and could be programmed by typing on a typewriter-style keyboard. Output could now be seen written in glowing green letters on screens. They could even connect to dozens of these “terminals”, spread throughout the building, allowing multiple users to schedule work for the computer without needing to trek to the computer room.

As Spring Bloom finished her lunch, she heard a familiar voice call from the hall.

“Hey, Spring! What’s up?”

She looked up towards the doorway to see her boss standing there smiling, with a stack of papers floating next to him. He levitated them over to the table and sat down.

“Oh, hey, Paperweight. I’ll have those reports to you by tomorrow.”

“Huh? Oh, right. Don’t rush yourself. I don’t really need those right away. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about.”

Spring looked up from her steamed carrots. Paperweight bore a concerned expression.

“Your fifteen-year work anniversary is coming up. You knew that, right?”

Spring nodded. Even though she hadn’t given it much thought, next week would mark fifteen years since she was hired at this company. It wasn’t a big deal, but something nice was usually gifted to the employee as a token of the company’s appreciation.

“We’ve given out all sorts of stuff, but this year, the company is giving out… fully paid lunar vacations.”

Spring’s ears perked up at this. Space travel had advanced significantly in the past sixteen years, to the point where it was almost routine. Suborbital flights could cross the ocean in a matter of hours, and off-planet vacations were the new craze. Huge spaceports floating in orbit served as launching points for massive cruise liners; flying hotels with one hell of a view. Two years ago, Griffin Galactic had finished construction of a resort on the surface of the moon. Tickets sold out before they even started construction.

“You’re one of my best employees, Spring. I mean that. I want to make sure I can adequately repay you for everything you’ve given to this company over the years. I just wanted to give you a heads-up about it, see how you might feel…”

“About spaceflight?” Spring finished.

“…Yes.” He continued. “I can try to pull some strings and get you something else if you’re not comfortable – ”

“I’ll take it.” She interrupted.

“What? Are you sure?” Paperweight seemed surprised.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay…” He floated out two tickets from his jacket and passed them to her. “This one is for the shuttle, to take you to the spaceport. This one is for the cruise itself.”

Spring inspected the tickets. Griffin Galactic logos dominated the papers, which also contained flight information, dates and times, and what appeared to be seat numbers on a corner. They looked very similar to airplane tickets. She’d flown in an airplane a few times, and found herself thinking of all of the airplane crashes that she’d heard about. In those accidents, hundreds of ponies died. In the entire history of Equestrian spaceflight, only three had lost their lives. So why was she so afraid of it?

It didn’t take much for her to realize that she knew exactly why she was afraid of it. Even though, statistically, space travel was the safest mode of transportation, a pony she loved was gone because of it. And the notion of it would be forever tainted unless she stood up and faced her fears. That was why, she reckoned, her gut instinct was to accept the tickets. Just like computers, she had to keep up with the technology or be left behind. And if space travel was the future, she didn’t want to be left a mewling foal as the world moved on. Plus, there was no small measure of curiosity for what the experience would be like.

She thanked Paperweight for the tickets; although she’d never had a desire to purchase one, she knew that spaceflight tickets were not cheap.

“Oh, and you’ll also need this.” Paperweight passed over another piece of paper. “It’s a waiver you have to sign, making sure you don’t have any heart conditions or anything like that. Apparently the ride is pretty intense.”

***

“Flight #3782 for Fillydelphia, now boarding at Gate C7. Gate C7, now boarding for Flight #3782 for Fillydelphia.”

Spring Bloom’s ears perked up at the intercom system whenever it made an announcement. It was always the same voice; that of an extremely bored mare.

She’d been sitting in the waiting area in front of gate C7 for the past half-hour, waiting for her flight number to be called. She glanced over to see several other ponies get up out of their seats and file into the small doorway leading to the airplane parked outside. After several minutes, the jetbridge was retracted, and the plane wheeled away towards the runway.

To take its place, a very large and bizarre plane taxied up to the gate. Curious, Spring Bloom stood up from her seat and trotted over. The aircraft which sat outside the windows was like nothing she’d ever seen. Instead of the long, narrow wings on most planes, this plane sported massive triangular wings, affixed to the entire length. It also had two tailfins, angled away from each other. But what captured her attention the most were the six gigantic jet engines, built into nacelles in the wings, each the size of a large bus. The plane was painted sky blue on top with a cream-colored underside, and bore several gold stripes running the length of the craft. They converged near the front to form the now-familiar Griffin Galactic logo.

About ten years ago, the Equestrian Space Administration had lost a lot of funding from the government. It slowly lost even more money, making fewer and fewer launches every year, until it stopped making flights altogether. One final launch was made to recover the crew of the Horizon Space Station, which was then de-orbited over the ocean. The light show was apparently spectacular.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, came a new privately-owned company offering trips to space. Their new ‘spaceplane’, they said, could launch itself into orbit from any airport with a long enough runway, and then glide back down to Equus and land in a similar fashion; without shedding expensive engines and fuel tanks. Soon, they earned enough profit to build an entire fleet of their Phoenix spaceplanes and build a spaceport in orbit, and Griffin Galactic was born.

“Flight #1437 for Boreas Spaceport, now boarding at Gate C7. Gate C7, now boarding for Flight #1437 for Boreas Spaceport.”

Snapping out of her thoughts, Spring Bloom trotted over to her seat, grabbed her purse (the only thing small enough for her to actually take on board), and made her way into the forming line of similar passengers. Once her turn came, she hoofed her ticket to the receptionist next to the door. She scanned the ticket, tore off the section with the seat number on it, and hoofed it back. Thanking the receptionist, Spring Bloom walked through the doorway and onto the jetbridge.

The air suddenly turned hot. The plastic sheeting forming the collapsible walls didn’t form a perfect seal, and the air from outside was permeating the hall. Her hooves clicked on the metal flooring as she walked towards the gaping mouth of the plane’s open door.

When she reached the large door, a smiling flight attendant welcomed her aboard, and warned her to watch her step. Looking down, she was able to see the asphalt below through a sizable gap between the plane’s body and the platform’s edge.

The cabin was much more spacious than the airplanes she remembered. There were two rows of seats with a walkway in the middle, made with soft carpet. Looking at her ticket stub, it pointed her to a window seat. As she sat down, she noticed that the windows were small; smaller than the windows in a normal airplane. Upon further inspection, she was able to see that the windows were very thick, triple-paned, reinforced plastic.

She felt surprisingly calm, looking out the large window as another passenger took the seat beside her.

“First time?” He suddenly spoke up.

“Hm?” Spring Bloom turned to him. He was an older earth pony stallion, with his greying mane styled into a flat-top. He was wearing a vest with something embroidered into the right breast.

“Is this your first time in a spaceplane?”

“Yes… I’ve flown in an airplane before… just not to space.”

He chuckled. “Well, it’s a little more intense than an airplane, I’ll tell you that much.”

Spring Bloom began to sweat, remembering the waiver. “Intense? How so?”

“Well, the takeoff speed is a lot faster, so we need a much longer runway… also, the angle is a lot steeper too, about forty-five degrees. How much do you know about orbital mechanics?”

“A fair amount. My husband made sure of that.”

“Oh really? Well as your husband has most likely told you, orbital velocity at the altitude we’re headed for is about seven and a half kilometers per second.”

Spring simply nodded. She had heard numbers like that before, but it never ceased to amaze her. She had never experienced speeds that high, and never thought she would. She looked out the window and watched the passage from the terminal retract, and heard the large passenger door slam shut and lock.

“This is all so amazing, that we can get to space any day of the week, like driving to work. I remember when we used rockets alone to put things in space… it wasn’t nearly as elegant as this.”

“That wasn’t so long ago,” she pointed out, “I remember it too.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Although I feel more of a personal connection to…traditional launches.”

“What do you mean?”

“I used to be a flight director for the Equestrian Space Administration. That was before all the funding went down the toilet.”

“Wow, really? My husband is… was an astronaut.”

“No way.”

She nodded. “His name was Starshine.”

The stallion’s jaw dropped. “The Sunrise incident…” He said finally.

“Yes.”

“Wow. I…I remember that. I was the flight director for that mission.”

“You were?”

“Yeah…I can still remember talking with them just before re-entry…” He cast his gaze on the floor, looking somber.

She touched his hoof. “It’s okay. Accidents happen.” She couldn’t believe she was comforting someone else about something that happened to her…but she could understand why he would feel responsible.

“Thanks. And I know there’s nothing that we could have done. I just feel –”

They were interrupted by the captain speaking over the intercom.

“Attention passengers, this is your captain speaking. We’re getting ready to take off in a few minutes here, so just sit back, relax, and let the flight attendants talk you through the safety briefing. Have a wonderful flight, and thank you for choosing Griffin Galactic.”

The flight attendant at the front of the plane then talked through the safety features of the craft, which were mostly the same as with an airplane. One particular interesting point, Spring Bloom noted, was that apparently the hull was made of some sort of self-sealing polymer that would automatically patch any small holes. After the briefing, the attendants made their way up and down the aisle, making sure everyone was buckled in.

[1]Once that was done, she felt the spaceplane begin to roll away from the terminal and begin taxiing to the runway. Judging by its darker color, the runway they were headed for was newer. The spaceplane turned onto the runway and stopped, waiting for permission to take off.

After a minute or so, Spring Bloom felt the engines on the wing next to her start up, and the plane began to move down the runway. Slowly at first, but the craft was soon moving down the runway at frightening speed.

“One hundred meters per second.”

“Huh?”

The stallion beside her pointed to a small television screen at the front of the cabin, displaying the plane’s current speed and altitude. It was currently at over one hundred meters per second and climbing. Spring suddenly felt the characteristic lurch of the plane’s nose lifting off the runway, and saw the ground outside the window begin to fall away. The plane gently banked to the east, and she could see houses and streets filled with cars as her window pointed toward the ground.

As the spaceplane leveled off again, Spring felt herself being pushed back into her seat as the pilot opened up the throttle and pushed the massive craft to even higher speeds. She watched the monitor as the speed ticked up and up, the clouds below zipping by at incredible speeds. After reaching about 350 meters per second, the display switched to read 1.0 D.

“Supersonic,” the stallion beside her said.

Spring could hardly believe it. She and a hundred other ponies had just broken the sound barrier as casually as taking a drive to the store, while the first aircraft to reach these speeds had flown less than forty years prior. Ponies were no strangers to supersonic flight, though, ever since the legendary pegasus Rainbow Dash became the first pony to break the speed of sound under her own power over a century and a half ago. When aircraft had begun attaining higher and higher speeds, this threshold had been named in her honor.

Suddenly, once the speed indicator read 3.8 D, the plane tilted upward to a very steep angle; at least 45 degrees. Spring felt herself being pushed back into her seat even farther.

Now the altitude indicator was climbing rapidly. Once it reached about 50 kilometers, the plane’s nose dropped again and took on a much less aggressive angle. Their speed was now 6.7 D and climbing; almost seven times the speed of sound.

“Well, that was certainly…interesting.” She wiped her brow.

“Are you kidding? We haven’t even reached the best part yet!”

“Huh?”

“Just wait until we hit about Dash-thirteen.”

Spring couldn’t even fathom speeds that high. Her mind was boggling at how fast they were going already.

***

“Preparing to transition to closed-cycle flight,” the Griffin Galactic pilot said, turning to his co-pilot. “Okay, we’re almost ready to go. Just a few more checks.”

“Copy.”

“Instruments calibrated?”

“Check.”

“Hatches?”

“Sealed.”

“Control surfaces?”

“Locked.”

“Internal O2 feed?”

“Activated.”

“Igniter master arm?”

“Armed.”

“Turbopumps?”

“Primed.”

“Center of gravity shift?”

“Auto.”

“Engine gimballing?”

“Disabled.”

“Alrighty… let’s trip the igniters and light this candle!”

***

Spring watched the speed counter increase until the units switched from meters to kilometers per second. When it reached 13.0 D, the captain’s voice was again heard over the intercom.

“Attention passengers, we’ve just about reached out operational ceiling for the jet engines. We’re now going to activate the rocket engines now to gain some more speed and altitude. So keep yourselves buckled in, and hold on tight!”

“Wait, rocket engines!? Why –” But she was interrupted when the plane suddenly lurched violently and she was shoved back into her seat with a tremendous amount of force, followed by a throaty roar coming from somewhere behind her.

“Whoo!” The stallion exclaimed, but he was barely audible over the noise.

Gritting her teeth, Spring Bloom turned to look at the monitor. It read the plane’s speed as over 14.5 D and climbing fast. As if the G-forces from the rocket engines weren’t enough, the plane tilted up to a 45-degree angle again.

When it finally pitched back down again, the plane’s altitude was up to 95 kilometers and its speed was up to 16 D. After a few more seconds, the rocket engines cut off entirely.

“Attention passengers, this is your captain once again. Please remain in your seats and do not remove your seatbelts, as there will be another burn of the engines coming up soon.”

“Wait for it…now!” The stallion was looking at the altitude readout, which had just passed 100 km. “You’re in space now! How does it feel?”

Spring Bloom felt a strange sensation, as if she was going over the crest of a hill on a rollercoaster. She felt as if the entire plane was falling, plummeting back down to earth.

“Woah… what’s going on? Are we falling?”

The stallion chuckled. “Yes, actually. But we’re in orbit, so we’re falling around the entire planet!”

Her husband had described it to her, but she never thought she’d be experiencing it firsthoof. It was a strange feeling, to say the least. Her insides lurched as they moved in ways they never had before.

The next thing Spring Bloom noticed was her mane taking on a mind of its own. It floated around, quickly turning into a tangled cloud in front of her face. She tried to brush it away, but it refused to keep still. She finally resorted to pulling an elastic band out of her purse (which was difficult due to the fact that it, too, was beginning to float away) and tied it back into a ponytail.

A slight commotion from behind caught her attention. She turned to see a pegasus stallion, wide-eyed and panicked, thrashing about in his seat. His wings were splayed out, flapping as if he was trying to take off. A flight attendant was trying to calm him down.

“We’re falling! We’re out of control, we’re all going to die!” He was screaming.

“We’re not falling, sir, everything is under control.”

The pegasus barely seemed to register what she was saying. Another flight attendant floated up to them, her horn glowing with a spell. With some difficulty, she touched her horn to his forehead, and the pegasus stallion immediately relaxed, his eyes losing focus. One of the attendants then left, the other remaining behind to watch the pony they had subdued.

Spring turned back to see the stallion next to her was shaking his head.

“What was that all about?” She asked.

“It’s not uncommon for pegasi to get panic attacks in microgravity. It messes with their flight instincts or something, makes them think they’re falling. Looks like the crew keeps an anesthetic spell around for cases like that.”

***

The promised “burn” came about fifteen minutes later, and lasted for only a few seconds, after which the captain came over the intercom again.

“Alright passengers, you can go ahead and unfasten your seatbelts and enjoy weightlessness during this part of the flight. Our attendants are here to give you assistance, and bags are provided for those suffering from space adaptation sickness. We’ll be arriving at the spaceport in about thirty minutes.”

Spring decided to try moving around, so she unbuckled herself… and immediately began to float towards the ceiling. She smiled, enjoying the feeling, and gently pushed off the wall. Her body responded by drifting past the stallion next to her and into the aisle, where she collided with a flight attendant. The attendant grabbed them both and expertly guided them to a stop, using her magic to grab onto the hoofholds and maneuver herself around.

“Oh! So sorry ma’am. Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you. Just not used to zero-gravity.”

“If you ever need any help, just ask.”

With that, she deftly navigated around Spring Bloom and glided down the aisle, assisting more passengers who were venturing out of their seats. Deciding not to experiment with crashing into things anymore, Spring Bloom nudged her way back to her seat. The stallion next to her hadn’t even removed his seatbelt; he was reading a book instead. It was at that moment that she decided to look out the window… and felt her breath taken away.

Four hundred kilometers beneath her, the giant ball she called home rotated lazily. She was able to make out the continents, the oceans, and the clouds casting shadows on the landscape. One of the clouds was being assaulted by pegasi; although she couldn’t make out the individuals, she could see the cloud’s shape changing slowly. She could see the sun, brighter and more vibrant than she remembered, moving to set behind the ship. Ahead, she could see a distinct line on the ground where day changed to night. She now understood why ponies flocked to space travel: the view was breathtaking.

The voice of the captain suddenly spoke up again. “Attention passengers, if you’ll look out the left-hoof side of the ship, I’ll be turning around so you can see the sunset as we cross the dusk terminator.”

Spring Bloom heard a faint hissing somewhere within the ship, and felt the cabin begin to turn. Slowly, the ship rotated ninety degrees counter-clockwise, until it’s the nose was pointed toward the north pole. Now, she could see the setting sun squarely in her window. She could hear the commotion as several other passengers from the right side of the cabin ventured from their seats to get a look out the windows on this side.

As she watched, the sun moved surprisingly quickly toward the horizon… and then it was gone. There was a brief moment where she could see the traditional colors of the sunset shimmering on the ocean and reflecting off the clouds, and then it simply winked out of existence. Their ship, she noted, had crossed that line between day and night she saw earlier. Looking down onto the surface, the landscape was shrouded in darkness, but she could make out the spiderweb patterns of lights from cities.

***

Half an hour later, they arrived at Boreas Orbital Spaceport. Spring Bloom could hardly believe such a thing was possible. It was a giant structure, several times the size of the airport on the ground, simply floating in the infinite blackness like a snowflake. It looked like a great crystal formation, with the various blinking lights along its walls making it seem to sparkle. She could see ponies through the station’s huge windows, their size comparable to ants. The sheer scale of the station was almost unbelievable…yet here it was. The structure was well-lit on the outside by floodlights, and several flashing beacons marked the edges like miniature lighthouses. Several ships were latched on like ticks, attached to ports marked in a manner similar to airport gates. The plane she was in drifted lazily over the station, passing over a giant decorative dome marking the station’s main lobby. Ponies floating around inside gazed up at the giant craft above them.

“How…how is this possible?” She breathed.

The stallion beside her chuckled. “Earth pony engineering, and no small amount of unicorn magic, I would guess.”

“How much did it cost, I wonder?”

“Billions. But Griffin Galactic is subsidized by the Equestrian government.”

“Really?”

“Yep. That’s where all our funding went. They figured out it was a lot cheaper to simply pay a private company to launch ponies into space than to do it themselves.”

The spaceplane continued to float around the station, and began to slide sideways towards a gate marked ‘A9’. The pilot expertly maneuvered the craft so that its door was perfectly aligned with the passage she could see extending from the station. She could actually see a pony wearing a spacesuit standing in the passage, guiding the pilot to dock with the station. Eventually, the craft mated to the station with a metallic thunk and a sucking noise.

“Attention passengers, we have arrived at Boreas Spaceport. Please remain in your seats until the seatbelt light turns off, and proceed in an orderly fashion to the exit. Your luggage is currently being offloaded, and can be picked up in the baggage claim. Those transferring to connecting flights, your baggage will automatically be placed onboard your next flight. Those staying onboard for Xenith Station may remain in their seats while we refuel. Have a nice day, and thank you for choosing Griffin Galactic for your space travel needs.”

Spring Bloom wondered why they were thanking passengers for choosing them for spaceflight, when they were literally the only choice. She removed her seatbelt and collected her purse; the stallion, however, stayed put.

“You’re not coming?” She asked him.

“No, I’m staying here. I’ll be riding the plane back down to Xenith.”

She nodded. Xenith Station was Griffin Galactic’s spaceport in Zebrica, which was almost on the other side of the world from Equestria. A trip which would take weeks by train or a day by plane, would only take a few hours this way.

“Well, goodbye then,” he said as she made her way past him and into the aisle. “I hope you have a nice trip, wherever you’re going.”

“I’m going to that hotel on the moon.”

This caused his eyebrows to rise. “Wow, really? That place they built a couple years ago? I heard it’s really nice.”

“Yeah…”

“Is something wrong?”

“It’s just… a lot to take in.”

“I remember my first spaceflight. It was hard to believe I used put astronauts through that on a regular basis.”

Spring Bloom could feel the line of ponies anxious to get off stacking up behind her. She waved a final goodbye to the stallion, and pushed herself down the aisle.

A smiling flight attendant floated by the exit, greeting her with a cheerful goodbye as she passed through the open door and into the passage. Looking down at where it joined the body of the spaceplane, it was a perfect seal. Much more secure than the seal down on the ground; and for good reason. She pushed herself down the passage and through the gate doors.

She passed into the waiting area, which looked almost exactly like that from the airport. Although there was no ‘up’ in space, there was clearly an ‘up’ to the space station. She could see several ponies floating in the waiting area or staring out the windows. It looked huge from the outside, but the interior was actually somewhat cramped, almost like an underground tunnel, but the windows helped to alleviate the claustrophobia somewhat. The floors were carpeted and chandeliers dotted the ceiling.

She was suddenly startled by a friendly station clerk next to her.

“Welcome to Boreas Spaceport! Would you like a complementary set of gravity boots?”

“…huh?”

The clerk motioned to a set of black cloth boots on her hooves. They were made of a material that allowed her to stick to the carpet on the floor. Spring Bloom recognized the material; the ESA had developed it for keeping stuff from floating around the cabin of a spaceship.

“Gravity boots! They’re special shoes that let you stick to the floor so you don’t have to float everywhere! Though some ponies like float around, I prefer to keep my hooves on the floor.”

Spring Bloom agreed to the clerk’s offer, and let her help put the boots on. Once her hooves touched the soft carpeted floor, the material on the bottoms stuck to it, rooting her firmly in place. She could take steps with little difficulty, with each boot making a crackling, tearing sound at it was lifted off the floor. She thanked the clerk and started walking towards the main lobby.

The main lobby consisted of a circular room with six hallways branching off of it. A couple dozen or so ponies were either loitering or passing through this space using a variety of methods. Some were using the ‘gravity boots’, and others were using the ubiquitous hoofholds along the walls. The most interesting mode of locomotion was being used by a few unicorns, who effortlessly pulled their way through the station by grasping the hoofholds with their magic, just like what the flight attendant had done in the spaceplane. They were like sea creatures, she thought with a smile, as they danced through the air without moving a muscle.

The ceiling of the lobby was capped with a giant dome, made of clear plastic, offering a stunning view of the planet below. She could just make out the telltale pink shimmer of a magical barrier over the dome. As she stared, several more passenger ships drifted overhead, either to dock with the station or departing from it.

“Flight #8261 to Luna Hotel is now arriving at Gate D2. Flight #8261 to Luna Hotel, now arriving at Gate D2.”

Although the airport may have changed, the bored announcer was a constant. Spring Bloom inspected her second ticket; the numbers matched up, indicating that this ship would be the one taking her to the lunar resort.

Four of the six hallways were marked with a series of letters and numbers showing which gates one could reach by traversing them. One of the hallways appeared to be administration and control, while another was reserved for the baggage claim and other facilities, such as restaurants and washrooms. Suspended above the entrance to this corridor was a collection of large screens, displaying the numbers and statuses of dozens of spaceplane flights in and out of Boreas Spaceport. She examined the screens and found her flight number. According to the schedule, it wasn’t due for another fifteen minutes. To pass the time, she decided to go and get a coffee from one of the numerous convenience shops lining the hallway before her.

Wandering along the strip, she saw that the food selection left much to be desired, with vastly inflated prices to boot – most likely for the novelty of eating one’s daisy sandwich in space, she presumed. She eventually settled on a small coffee shop near the end called Beth’s Best Beans. A cheery griffin floated behind the counter, who jovially took her order. Spring Bloom chose a booth next to a window, placed so that patrons could sip their lattes while watching the planet revolve below. The booths were more for privacy than comfort, lacking tables and even chairs.

As she gazed out into space, she noticed that several of the stars began to wink out, a front of blackness moving across the sky. It took her a second to realize it, but that gap in the stars was actually a giant ship drifting by. It drew closer to the station, gradually adjusting its course to head for one of the station’s docking arms.

The ship was mind-bogglingly massive; several times larger than the spaceplane which had brought her up here, this vessel was more on the scale of an oceangoing cruise liner. As it slowly crept along, Spring Bloom was able to make out the name of the ship, emblazoned on the side in giant black letters, and mottled by the beams from dozens of spotlights: Celestia Dawn. Despite its size, it seemed more fragile than the other ships, like an errant breeze could snap it in half. Much of its structure was made up of girders and struts, separating the helm and passenger compartments at the front from the engines and spherical fuel tanks at the rear. Within the passenger section, she noted, was a circular ring that rotated lazily about the ship’s centerline.

Hearing her name called, Spring walked up to the counter and took her prepared drink, which came in a strangely-shaped cup. No matter which way she tipped it or shook it, no fluid came out unless she used the attached straw. It was undoubtedly a measure to mitigate the difficulty of drinking in zero-gravity, but she couldn’t help a small smile at what amounted to an adult-sized sippy cup.

With her coffee in tow, Spring started walking towards her gate, feeling a mixture of excitement and trepidation. These ships carry hundreds of passengers a day, she had to think to herself. You’ve been inside one of them for hours now, and nothing has happened.

The gate attendant greeted her with a smile and took her ticket, just like any other trip to the airport, after which Spring was allowed to enter the airtight tunnel connecting the station to the massive spaceliner. But instead of the narrow aisle of a spaceplane, she found herself within a relatively spacious, well-decorated reception area, where a small group of the Celestia Dawn’s crew was greeting each passenger and guiding them to where their rooms were located.

“Welcome to the Celestia Dawn!” One of the crew members announced when Spring walked up to him and passed him her ticket. He wore a smile that was a little too wide and was slightly unsettling. “Is this your first time aboard?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Wonderful!” he beamed as he inspected her ticket. “Well, I think you’ll have a fantastic time here. Just follow the yellow line to my right, that should take you directly to your suite, number G25. If you have any questions, feel free to ask any one of the ship’s crew.”

“Thanks. This place is amazing.”

“Isn’t it? I never get tired of the views. Have a great day!”

After she took her ticket back, Spring looked to where the stallion had pointed. Colored lines ran along the walls and floor, directing passengers toward any area of the ship they might want to go. At the moment, the only two lines she could see were a yellow one, labeled ‘Suites’ and a blue one, labeled ‘Gravity Ring’. For now, she followed the yellow line down the hallway, noting the lettered passages that branched off the main passage. At G, she took a left and counted the numbers on the doors until she reached hers, number G25.

Her ‘suite’ was much smaller than a traditional hotel room, containing only spaces to sleep and bathe. The bed was much more akin to a sleeping bag, secured to the wall with elastic netting, across from the large, thick window. Secured to the wall next to it was Spring Bloom’s suitcase, which had been loaded onto the ship from the spaceplane. The room also contained a television screen built into the ceiling, which was currently dark. She considered opening her suitcase and unpacking her things, before realizing that they’d just float all over the place without any gravity. So she simply stowed her purse, keeping the suitcase attached to the wall.

She was about to leave to explore the ship when she heard a chime from the PA system, followed by the voice of the stallion who took her ticket.

“Attention passengers, we’ve finished boarding and are currently preparing for departure. We would please ask you to remain in your cabins until we’re on our way to the moon. Until then, please watch the educational and safety video on the screens above you. Have a great flight, and thank you for choosing Griffin Galactic!”

[2]Spring turned her eyes to the screen which had lit up with an animated version of the Griffin Galactic logo, spinning in place. It was soon replaced with the image of a griffin dressed in a suit and tie, beaming at the camera while pacing back and forth in front of a starry backdrop. There was a fanfare of cheery, optimistic music to complete the cheesy aesthetic.

“Welcome aboard the Celestia Dawn, the foremost in luxury space travel! Hi, I’m Pierre LeClerc, founder and CEO of Griffin Galactic. I’d like to personally thank each and every one of you for joining us today aboard the first vessel in our StarCruise fleet. The following presentation will walk you through the amenities and features aboard the Celestia Dawn, as well as some of the details of your flight to the moon, where the world-famous Luna Hotel awaits!”

Pierre LeClerc was replaced by a diagram of the ship, and his voice was replaced by an energetic and well-enunciated narrator.

“The Celestia Dawn is over 200 meters long, with enough space for luxury accommodations for 80 passengers and crew.”

Spring idly wondered how many times they were going to use the word ‘luxury’.

“The ship is divided into three sections: the suites are located here, and can be found at any time by simply following the yellow lines. You suite offers fantastic views of the stars in private comfort, and a place to relax and freshen up for the day.

“Follow the blue line to the Gravity Ring, providing artificial gravity for a reprieve from zero-gee. Enjoy the shops, restaurants, and gardens!

“At the front of the ship is the helm, where the captain and crew steer the Celestia Dawn’s 1500 tonnes towards the moon. Guided tours are available every day!”

The ship disappeared, and a depiction of Equus and the moon appeared, with a curved, sweeping line drawn between them.

“Our voyage to the moon will take a total of three days, and will begin with a maneuver called ‘trans-lunar injection’. The ship will fire its nuclear-powered engines to accelerate it on a path towards the moon, reaching speeds of up to ten-and-a-half kilometers per second! Upon reaching the moon, the ship will turn around and slow down again, allowing the moon to pull it into an orbit, where a fleet of shuttles awaits to rendezvous and take you to the hotel!”

The presentation continued to explain the safety features of the ship, including magical shielding to protect the structure from ‘micrometeoroids’, as well as escape pods that could return all the passengers to Boreas Spaceport in case of emergency.

With a warning from the PA system, the ship began trans-lunar injection, and Spring felt herself begin to drift towards the bulkhead. After a few minutes, she was in zero-gravity once again, and the captain announced that the passengers were free to move about the ship. She decided that her first destination would be the gravity ring; she really wanted to see what a garden on board a spaceship would look like. On her way out of her cabin, she almost bumped into a couple wearing flower-print shirts emerging from the cabin across the hall. The stallion she had almost collided with deftly grabbed one of the handles lining the walls and brought himself to a halt, while Spring clumsily flailed around.

“Ope! Let me help ya there.” He grasped her hoof and helped her come to a stop.

“Ugh. Thank you,” Spring replied, embarrassed at her inelegance.

“No biggie. First time in space?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’m still getting used to the whole zero-gravity thing.”

“We’re on our third lunar cruise, and let me tell ya, any cruise is better when you’ve got someone to show you around. I’m Round Trip, by the way, and that’s my wife, Cinnamon Roll.” He motioned to the mare behind him, who beamed and waved.

“Spring Bloom,” she replied, by way of introduction.

“I think you’ll have a great time here, Spring,” Round Trip said, pushing his way down the corridor. Spring tried to mimic his movements, pushing against the hoofholds to glide behind him. “I don’t know if you’ve been on any ocean cruises, but let me tell ya, lunar cruises totally blow them out of the water, hahaha! Pun intended!”

As they rounded the corner, following the blue line through the reception area, Round Trip continued. “Zero-gravity lesson one: your center of gravity is in the pit of your stomach. If you want to push off things without spinning around, you’ve got to angle yourself so you push through your core. Pretend like you’re trying to stand on two hooves.” To demonstrate, Round Trip spun himself around and pushed off the wall with his forehooves, angled as if he were trying to do a headstand. He soared down the corridor with renewed momentum, then nimbly took hold of another hoofhold and drew himself to a stop.

“He loves to do all those tricks,” Spring heard Cinnamon Roll say from behind her with a smile. “He took to zero-gravity like a fish to water.”

“You’ve actually got it easier, since you’re a unicorn,” Round Trip said once the mares caught up to him at the entrance to the gravity ring. “You can use your magic to pull yourself along without touching the walls at all!”

Once Spring and Cinnamon Roll caught up, Round Trip moved forward and the door to the gravity ring opened automatically. She could see the room beyond sliding sideways at a fair pace on the other side of the threshold, and a large sign above warning ponies to watch their step.

“How much gravity will I feel inside? Is it like Equus?”

Round Trip shook his head. “It’s only half a gee, but it’s enough to be comfortable, and I think it’s a nice way to get used to lighter gravity before you get to the moon.”

Round Trip floated his way through the door, giving a strange view of him hanging in the air as the floor moved beneath him. Soon, a pole stretching from floor to ceiling came into view, which Round Trip grasped and was quickly whisked away.

“Go ahead, dear, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Cinnamon Roll coaxed. “Once you grab a pole you’ll have your hooves on solid ground. Er, floor.”

Spring looked into the room beyond. She could see ponies and green plants moving by; the ring had looked like it was moving slowly from the outside of the ship, but it seemed much faster up close. She reached out with her magic and pushed off one of the hoofholds in the hallway, and drifted across the threshold and into the rotating room. She spotted a pole rapidly approaching and grabbed it as it moved past. She felt herself get yanked along briefly before centrifugal force took over and she fell to the floor in an undignified heap. She brought herself shakily to her hooves, and felt a bout of nausea as her inner ear adjusted to the presence of pseudo-gravity, as well as an uncomfortable sensation in her gut as her organs settled into place.

With her wits about her again, Spring looked around the gravity ring. It looked quite similar to a small mall, with one long hallway lined with shops, restaurants, and planter boxes filled with real ferns. While it wasn’t much of a garden, it was more than she was expecting, and a nice reprieve from the sterile whiteness of the rest of the ship. The hallway curved visibly upwards both in front of and behind her.

Walking around proved fairly easy; she had to move a little slower and more deliberately than normal, but it wasn’t hard to get used to. Once Spring caught up with Round Trip and Cinnamon Roll, they showed her around the strip, taking her to several (very expensive) shops, and visiting their favorite restaurant for dinner: an eastern-themed venue named Moon Wok. Afterwards, they took her to a tour of the bridge. The captain seemed to enjoy putting on a show, marching about and giving orders like “maintain attitude for gimbal calibration” and “resume PTC rotation at zero-point-five degrees per second”, to which the crew would respond “aye-aye, sir”. It was amusing to watch, but Spring suspected they didn’t act like this normally.

Spring ended up spending the majority of the next three days in the gravity ring, as did most of the other passengers. After being confined to quarters for the ‘capture burn’ on the far side of the moon, the captain announced that they had arrived. Spring looked out the window and was able to see the blue-green disk of Equus rising slowly over the lunar horizon. She suddenly felt very small, as she realized that her home and everypony she’d ever known was on that planet, so small that she could cover it with a hoof. She was four hundred thousand kilometers away from home, surrounded by only an infinite expanse of nothingness dotted with stars. It was a lot to take in.

***

A few hours later, she was standing on the moon.

She stood in a pressurized reception area just beyond the exit of the small shuttle craft that had brought herself and a hoofful of passengers down to the surface. She heard Round Trip chuckling behind her.

“What?”

“Nothing, it just looks like your eyes are gonna pop out of your head!”

Spring Bloom was incredulous. “We’re on the moon! Thirty years ago ponies could only dream of this, and we’re…tourists!” she blurted out.

Round Trip’s chuckle turned into a full-on belly laugh. “Oh, I know! It’s just as amazing to me, too. I was just as flabbergasted on my first trip, and I love seeing the reactions of the first-timers! Come on, Cinnamon and I will show you around the hotel.”

A bend in the tunnel from the landing pad let Spring see the structure through a window. Admittedly, the hotel wasn’t much to look at from the outside; it was a series of white domes connected by tunnels, partially buried in the grey lunar soil.

Walking in one-sixth gee was vastly different from walking in the half-gee aboard the Celestia Dawn’s gravity ring. She found it easiest to take a series of long, hopping strides that were reminiscent of prancing. Upon reaching the hotel’s lobby, she was greeted by a fountain shaped like Princess Luna. A narrow stream of water arced from the tip of her horn. It was fascinating how the water moved; it seemed to hang in the air much longer than it should, and fell to the pool below in slow motion. The other decorations in the lobby included a photo of Princess Luna attending the hotel’s opening ceremony, and a grainy black-and-white image of ponykind’s first steps on the moon.

Spring was surprised to see that the stallion standing behind the desk was the same one who had greeted her aboard the Celestia Dawn.

“Hello and welcome to the Luna Hotel!” he said as they approached, that same creepy smile plastered across his face. “Finest luxury hotel on the moon!”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“Why are you here, instead of on the ship?” she asked.

“The ponies who staff the hotel are the same ones who crew the ship,” he explained. “For safety, the hotel is only occupied while the Celestia Dawn is in orbit. It’s completely empty between trips.”

After checking in, Round Trip and Cinnamon Roll helped her find her room. The large interconnected domes that made up the structure were divided into a dozen small rooms each, containing a bed and a small bathroom. Spring looked forward to sleeping in a real bed; the zero-gravity sleeping bags aboard the ship hadn’t been exactly restful. She was lucky enough to get a room with a window, and it offered a magnificent view of the barren featureless landscape. The grey regolith rose and fell in gentle hills, broken up by the occasional rock or crater. There was a certain stark beauty to it all, accentuated by the sight of Equus on the horizon, the sun behind it reducing it to a crescent sliver. She knew that Equestria would be just on the edge of the planet’s disk to the east, and from their point of view the moon would just be rising as Princess Luna began the night. It was strange to think about; standing on the surface of the moon as it was being moved by one of the Princesses.

No one knew exactly why the moon or sun had to be moved the way they did. According to legend, the sun had simply gone away somehow almost two thousand years ago, an event that would come to be known as the Sun Crisis. A group of powerful unicorns from the nascent nation of Equestria supposedly came together and created a brand new sun. How much of that story was truth and how much was myth was unknown, as few first-hoof accounts of that day still existed. The only sure thing was that that ball of magical energy that brought warmth and light, and its sister that brought the tides both had to be coaxed across the horizon every morning and evening by Equestria’s dual rulers.

***

Sleeping in a bed in one-sixth gee was extremely comfortable. Spring wondered if this was what pegasi felt like when they slept on clouds; her body was almost weightless, and she woke early, feeling better than she had in a while. The hotel was equipped with a small cafeteria, and Spring stopped by for a light breakfast before exploring what attractions the hotel offered.

She caught some movement from the corner of her eye and saw Round Trip excitedly waving at her, with Cinnamon Roll sitting at the table next to him. Spring hopped over to them and sat down.

“So, how’s your first day on the moon treatin’ ya?” Round Trip asked with a smile.

Spring shook her head slowly in amazement as she poked at her fruit. “I still can’t believe that I’m here.”

“Let me tell ya, four days is not enough for me. I wanna live here! They should make a whole city on the moon!”

Cinnamon Roll grimaced and patted her husband’s hoof. “Now now, dear, I like it here just as much as you, but I think I like my hooves on the ground.”

“But they are on the ground.”

“You know what I meant.”

Spring contemplated the lunar landscape for a while as she ate, before asking, “So since you’ve been here before, what are the best things to do around here? I got a brochure in my room with all the attractions, but I’m sure you know what the best ones are.”

Round Trip nodded enthusiastically, his mane bouncing around in the lower gravity. “Well, the pool is pretty fun. It’s more…” he waved his hoof around, searching for the right word. “Splashy.”

He leaned in conspiratorially, glancing to either side. “But the best attraction…is the lunar surface tour!”

“The lunar surface tour?” Spring echoed, digging the brochure out of her purse. “I don’t remember seeing that one.”

“They don’t really advertise it, since there’s only so many seats and they always fill up fast. In fact, I’ll be on the first trip of the morning, in just about half an hour.”

“What is it?”

“They drive around outside in a pressurized rover, showing off craters and formations and such. There’s even a lava sea nearby that they always show off. It’s great!”

“Like a tour bus?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s a space tour bus! So what do ya say? Are you coming?”

Spring thought for a moment before making her decision. “Sure! It sounds fun.”

After breakfast, a short walk through the hotel brought them to the rover hangar, within which the “space tour bus” stood before a large sliding door. It was a strange-looking vehicle, consisting of a white cylinder lined with small windows, supported by eight large wheels. She noticed a mechanic working on the far side of the rover, who quickly closed his toolbox and rushed away upon seeing the group coming in.

“Welcome to the Luna Hotel’s exclusive Lunar Surface Tour!” the tour guide announced when a small crowd had gathered. “Please, no photography is allowed, so leave your cameras behind. High-quality photos will be available for purchase at the gift shop.

“We’re going to begin by getting you all fitted with pressure suits. Now, the rover is pressurized, so this is just a safety precaution.”

A staff member entered the room pushing a rack of white space suits and matching helmets. They were simple in principle to put on, made of two pieces. With help from a staff member, Spring pushed her hindlegs into the rear section, tucking her tail in. Then she wriggled into the front section, pushing her forelegs through, and the two sections joined at with a locking ring around her barrel.

“Each suit comes with an hour’s supply of oxygen,” the tour guide explained as the passengers struggled into their suits, “and are equipped with a homing beacon. Not that we expect to use it! I want to reiterate that this is a safety precaution only.”

The staff explained and demonstrated how to put on the suit helmets, but said that they didn’t have to be worn on board unless there was an emergency. Once they had all donned their suits, Spring and the seven other passengers boarded the rover. The interior was small, allowing each passenger only enough room to sit down and look out a window. A driver climbed into the cockpit, and the tour guide stood amongst the passengers.

Soon, a rush of air was heard from outside, after which the large doors opened, allowing sunlight to stream in.

“Please keep your helmets nearby at all times,” the tour guide announced. “We may ask you to put them on in case of emergency.”

With a lurch, the vehicle left the hangar and began rolling along the grey lunar terrain. The sun on the horizon cast long shadows, accentuating the many hills and rocks scattered about. In the distance, she could see the winding furrows left by the rover’s wheels, marking the path it had taken dozens of times before.

“We don’t know exactly how the moon was formed, but careful study of rock samples suggests that it was formed when a large meteor struck Equus. The impact sent billions of tons of molten rock into space, which collected and hardened over time to form the moon. The myriad craters were formed by smaller meteor impacts over the next several billion years. These impacts ground up the surface into a fine powder, forming the flour-like lunar soil.”

Spring joined the other passengers in gawking out the windows at the alien terrain while the tour guide continued to explain the various geological formations and their origins.

“The Luna Hotel’s location on the lunar surface gives us convenient access to many types of geological formations, including the next stop on our trip. In another few minutes, we’ll arrive at a scenic overlook, giving us a magnificent view of the massive Sea of Harmony, formed by ancient volcanic eruptions!”

The rover continued to pick its way across the rugged lunar surface, gently rocking as the wheels followed the ups and downs of the terrain. Spring Bloom continued to stare out the window until her attention was torn away by the sudden presence of a faint hissing noise.

She wasn’t the only one to hear it, evidently, as a few of the other passengers perked up, their ears swiveling to try to locate the sound. A stallion in front of Spring got the attention of the tour guide and pointed out the sound. A frown marred her face for the briefest of moments before she smiled brightly, announced she’d be right back, and stepped forward to speak with the driver.

The hissing sound grew louder, now accompanied by creaking and groaning sounds coming from the wall. The sudden addition of a faint alarm coming from somewhere in the vehicle did not help, and the passengers all started looking around nervously. Even Round Trip had gone quiet, grasping his worried wife by the hoof.

Spring felt the vehicle come to a stop.

“I’m terribly sorry everyone, but due to some technical difficulties, we’re going to have to cut the tour short,” the tour guide announced to the passengers. “As a safety precaution, I’m going to ask that you all please put your helmets on.”

A calm commotion followed as everypony moved to put on their helmets. Spring was able to do so with only marginal difficulty, using her magic to rotate the locking ring and secure the latch at the nape of her neck, like she had been shown back at the hangar. She looked over and saw that a mare across the aisle was having difficulty putting her helmet on; her mane kept interfering with the latching mechanism.

Suddenly, the wall of the vehicle next to Spring was torn apart with a loud bang that quickly faded away into nothing. She felt herself being wrenched from her seat and thrown outside by a blast of air, joined by debris and other ponies. She briefly saw one or two ponies thrown to the ground missing their helmets, having been unable to put them on in time.

“No! Nonononono!” She screamed as she tumbled, catching glimpses of the lunar surface getting slowly closer. She twisted her head around to try and get her bearings, and discovered that she was falling towards a jagged rock on the ground just as she smashed into it face-first. Spiderweb patterns formed on her visor with a sickening crack.

The impact sent her spinning into the sky again, but within a second or two she hit the ground for a second time, throwing up a cloud of grey dust and rolling to a stop. She could hear the gut-wrenching hiss of escaping air once again, plainly audible over her own panicked breathing. The rock hadn’t just cracked her visor, but had punched a sizable hole in the very center.

She shakily got to her hooves and looked back the way she came. She could see the sightseeing vehicle, surrounded by debris and other ponies who had been thrown out. A helmet bounced and rolled along the surface past her.

“Help!” she called out, even though she knew it was pointless. She started hopping as quickly as she could back towards the vehicle, but her steps were becoming more and more sluggish. She stumbled and fell to the ground.

I need to get back to the ship. I’m losing air, fast…where am I again? Oh, right the moon. Isn’t that amazing? It’s kind of dirty here, though. Oh, look at the stars! There’s so many of them. I feel really tired all of a sudden. A nap would be nice. Just lay down right here on the soft moon and…

Go to…

…sleep...

Author's Note

Special thanks to Mockingbirb for pre-reading and editing.

Recommended Listening:
[1] Alan Parsons - Apollo
[2] Keith Mansfield - The Great Outside

3 - One Giant Leap

Sleep.

Spring Bloom is floating, weightless. Around her are countless billions of stars, as if some powerful being had thrown a hoof-full of sand across a dark blanket. It is utterly silent. She turns around and sees the blue-green orb of the planet below her. It is nighttime on its surface, and millions of ponies are asleep, dreaming peacefully.

She feels herself being pulled back from the planet. She reaches out, but there is nothing to grab. She looks behind her and sees an immense black void, a hole in the fabric of space, pulling her in. She screams, but there is nothing to hear. Its gravity distorts the very light around it, consuming everything. Her limbs flail uselessly as she accelerates towards that gaping maw, speeding towards oblivion. She screws her eyes shut and wonders if it would hurt.

“Don’t be scared. I’m here now.”

Spring Bloom opens her eyes. She is looking directly into the face of someone she thought she’d lost. His face blurs as tears fill her eyes. He is holding her tightly, and they are floating in the void of space together. The black hole is no longer pulling her in, replaced with the glowing white orb of the moon.

She reaches out a hoof to touch his face. “S-Starshine?”

Starshine smiles. “My little flower. How I’ve missed you.”

“B-But how can this be? How can –”

“Shh,” he interrupts. “In time. But not yet. First, I must send you somewhere safe.”

Spring Bloom came to with a gasp and greedily gulped in several lungfuls of air. The air she was breathing seemed stale and ancient, but at that moment she didn’t care. She’d just been suffocating and did not want to experience that again.

And that dream…she had been floating in space, and seen her husband again. She was certain it was a dream, but it was the most vivid one she’d ever had. She opened and closed her eyes a few times before realizing she was in near-total darkness. Am I dead? She thought. Is this what death is like?

If it was, then death felt quite real. She was laying on something cold and smooth. She got to her hooves and realized she wasn’t wearing her spacesuit anymore. A soft glow from her horn cast a weak light from which she could just barely see the room she was in. The walls, floor, and ceiling were made of an opaque white crystal that reflected her horn’s light from its facets. She paced the edges of the small room, trying to find some exit or even a feature besides plain crystal, but she found nothing.

Suddenly she heard a soft voice. I seemed to come from everywhere at once, reverberating off the walls.

“Do not be afraid, my little pony.”

Spring spun around, but there was nopony in here besides her.

“Who are you? Where are you?”

“It is I, Princess Luna. I am projecting my voice to you from the royal palace.”

“What happened? Where am I? How did I get here?”

Princess Luna did not seem bothered by her endless barrage of questions, and answered them patiently.

“I do not know how you ended up there, but you are in the moon, in the same prison that my sister banished me to when the darkness took hold of me.”

“You were… in this cave for a thousand years!?”

“The prison my sister created with the power of the Elements of Harmony is not a physical place. It is a pocket dimension, an extension of Limbo, adjacent to the moon. Time flows differently there; that is to say, not at all. I did not experience much of my thousand-year imprisonment.”

Spring felt her heart turn to ice as realization swept over her. “How long have I been here?” She asked shakily.

“I…do not know for certain. What is your name, my little pony?”

“S-Spring Bloom,” she responded. Then, remembering her manners, “…Your Highness.”

Princess Luna was quiet for a time.

“Princess?”

“Do not be afraid, little one. I will summon my sister, and she will be able to pull you out.”

“Princess Luna, please, answer my question,” she pleaded. “How long have I been here!?”

She then heard another voice: a gentle, motherly voice that she recognized.

“I know you must be afraid, my little pony, but I will keep you safe.”

“P-Princess Celestia?”

“Yes. It breaks my heart that another pony has fallen into this prison, and I do not know how you came to be there; but can pull you from it.”

Spring Bloom was immensely relieved at that, but she couldn’t shake the panic nagging at her mind from what Luna had said.

“Please, Princess. Luna said time has no meaning here. How…how long have I been in this place?”

Again, there was an agonizing silence. “You were involved in an accident on the moon, yes?” Princess Celestia spoke again, her voice immeasurably gentle, like a parent who was about to explain to their child that they were getting a divorce.

“Yes…”

“Then you have been here…for approximately one hundred and fifty years.”

Spring felt as if the floor dropped out from under her. She suddenly felt weak, and collapsed to her knees.

“A…hundred…and fifty…” She whispered.

“I am so sorry,” Princess Celestia said, and it seemed to Spring that the Princess was almost as distraught as she was.

“But your time here has come to an end,” the Princess continued. “You will soon be free of this place.”

“Where will I—” Spring Bloom began to say, but was interrupted as she collapsed in agony. Her lungs were on fire, her head pounded, and her eyes were teary with blood. She was in a spacesuit again, and she could see that she was lying on a metal deck through the cracked visor. All she could do was sob through labored breaths.

She heard a door hiss open somewhere behind her and heard two ponies talking.

“—wants to play the lottery so he can buy his own—oh sweet Celestia!”

Then she passed out.

***

Dr. Needle Prick tapped idly at his tablet, reviewing triage procedures for the umpteenth time. As the current doctor on duty, Dr. Needle was required to remain ready and on-call for any medical emergency. And his services had been needed on occasion, so he didn’t disagree with the requirements per se; it was just that with such stringent safety procedures aboard the Maulwurf, there were many days where his services weren’t needed at all. Today was shaping up to be one of those days. So he tapped and swiped at his medical tablet, paging through endless documentation while fighting to stay awake.

Suddenly a high-priority alert popped up. He tapped it and a flood of coded messages started populating the screen. Needle Prick’s trained medical mind translated them in real-time: unidentified unicorn mare; unconscious; vacuum exposure (!)…

He read all he needed to read before loading up a gurney with the required supplies and dashing down the hallway, pushing it in front of him with his magic. Everyone stood out of his way as soon as they spotted him. ‘A doctor in full sprint outranks everyone,’ as the saying went. A few more turns and an elevator later, Dr. Needle Prick arrived at Airlock C1, where a small group of ponies was gathered around an unconscious spacesuit-clad form sprawled on the deck.

“Out of the way!” Needle Prick bellowed, and the crowd scattered to make room. He knelt down to take a look and see what he was working with. The spacesuit was covered in a thin layer of moon dust, and he put on a mask to avoid breathing in the particles. He could see the mare’s chest rising and falling – a very good sign, especially in vacuum exposure cases. He moved to her head. He could see the face of what would normally be a pretty unicorn mare behind the cracked and punctured visor. Her face was swollen, bloody tears ran down her cheeks, and her hair was stringy with sweat. He went to remove the helmet, but found that he didn’t know how. This was a model of spacesuit he hadn’t been trained on.

Needle turned to one of the ponies next to him. “Do you…know how to remove this helmet?”

The stallion seemed just as confused as he was. “I’ve been trying to figure that out myself. I don’t know what kind of suit that is, but it’s definitely not LMC standard. It’s so bulky too – almost looks like a museum piece!”

One of the other crew members was tapping at her wrist tablet. “Wait…I think I found it. There should be a latch at the nape of her neck. Flip that, and you should be able to rotate the neck ring a quarter-turn.”

Needle Prick did as instructed, and the joint between the helmet and the rest of the suit clicked open. He gently pulled the helmet off and set about taking her pulse and performing other checks; her eyes were bloodshot, the capillaries having ruptured in vacuum. The mare was alive and breathing, so he carefully wrapped her in a field of magic and lifted her onto the gurney. He heard the crew members talking beside him.

“How did you know the suit model?”

“Look there, on the suit’s flank.”

“Is that – a Griffin Galactic logo!? I thought they went out of business over a hundred years ago!”

“They did. Somehow this mare got ahold of one of their suits – the helmet latching mechanism hasn’t been used in decades. And the life support equipment is ancient. Either it was built from old schematics, or it’s still working after a hundred years. I don’t know which is more unbelievable.”

***

Spring Bloom awoke on a bed, no longer in her spacesuit. She could tell right away that she was in a hospital from the smell, even before she felt the IV and blood pressure monitor attached to her foreleg or heard the machines that beeped and clicked quietly. Her body ached, but mercifully she could breathe again, even if her lungs burned if she breathed too deeply. She lay there for several minutes until a doctor happened by.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

“What happened? Where am I?” Spring Bloom asked for what felt like the third time today.

“You’re in the medical section on board the Maulwurf. I was hoping you would be able to tell us what happened. We found you in an airlock, suffering from vacuum exposure and nearly dead.”

“Maulwurf?”

The doctor cocked an eyebrow. “You know, the LMC’s largest mobile mining platform? You must have known where you were going before you collapsed in the airlock. Honestly you’re lucky you made it there in time. A few more seconds in hard vacuum and you wouldn’t be here.”

Spring Bloom’s brain struggled to keep up, both from the barrage of new information and the weakened state her body was in. “LMC?”

The doctor looked confused, and answered slowly. “The…Lunar Mining Commission. The only company with mining rights for a thousand kilometers in any direction. There’s nothing else out here, which begs the question of how you ended up out there. You’re not an LMC employee or executive, and I’m told you were wearing a space suit almost a hundred and fifty years out of date.”

The words ‘hundred and fifty years’ jogged something in Spring Bloom’s memory, and she suddenly remembered the recent turn of events. The accident, the strange dream, the cave, the princesses…everything flooded back to her.

“What…year is it?”

The doctor seemed taken aback by the question.

“It’s, uh, 1833. March 9th, to be exact.”

The figure he gave was right in line with Celestia’s estimate – about one hundred and fifty years from the day she arrived at the Luna Hotel. She had no desire to do the math in her head to find the exact number.

For the second time in less than an hour, Spring felt the world drop out from underneath her. Everypony she’d ever known, all of her friends and family, her home…all gone. Dead and buried.

“It’s all gone,” she whimpered, eyes brimming with tears.

The doctor looked even more confused.

“Um…well…you should get some rest. You’ve had a stressful day, I’m sure.”

She suddenly realized that the doctor was right: she was exhausted. She let her head drop back onto the pillow, and her sobs faded away as she fell into a fitful sleep.

***

Dr. Needle Prick downloaded the medical monitors’ readouts onto his tablet and reviewed them as he walked back to his office. Everything was normal – well, not normal, but as expected. Given the circumstances, she was in good shape, and would most likely make a full recovery. She just needed a few days in bed. Despite hundreds of years of medical advancements, there really was no substitute for good old-fashioned bed rest. Psychological issues, unfortunately, were outside of his expertise. He had a reputation for being blunt, and he knew his bedside manner could be better. But he usually left the convalescence care to the nurses; patients under general anesthesia weren’t too chatty.

This mystery mare, on the other hoof…even though his duty was done, he wanted to personally keep an eye on her, if for nothing else than to satisfy his own curiosity. When he got to his office, Dr. Needle pulled up a datanet browser on his tablet. The Maulwurf didn’t have real-time access to the datanet – bandwidth was reserved for much more valuable uses such as telemetry and communications – but it would receive occasional data dumps of the more commonly used netpages when traffic was low. He pulled up a popular encyclopedia page and began his search.

He started by mentally collecting everything he knew. The mare had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, wearing a pressure suit a hundred and fifty years out of date, branded by a company that went out of business a century ago. In addition, she had sobbed ‘It’s all gone,’ before falling back asleep. The evidence was leading him to a conclusion that was unbelievable, but he could think of no other alternative. He searched for missing ponies reports, limited to about a hundred and fifty years ago. That in itself would have been a monumental pile of results to sift through, but the fact that she was wearing a suit designed for lunar EVA gave him a criterion that he hoped would narrow his search down.

Upon initiating the search, there was one result.

It was a tourist who had gone missing a hundred and fifty years ago, and the picture in the corner was a perfect match.

Spring Bloom was an Equestrian tourist who went missing on August 12, 1681 while on vacation at the Luna Hotel on the surface of the moon. She was aboard the Griffin Galactic sightseeing vehicle which famously exploded on the lunar surface, killing four ponies and injuring several more. She was wearing a Griffin Galactic pressure suit, required for all passengers. The last contact from her suit’s transponder was an automatic distress signal, triggered by low oxygen pressure. Shortly after, both the transponder and the suit’s locator beacon disappeared from sensors. Despite an extensive search by ground teams and orbital scanners, her body was never found.

Everything lined up, but it couldn’t be possible. This mare, lying in his medical center, was looking more and more like the very same one which disappeared a hundred and fifty years ago. The only thing Needle Prick could think of was time travel, but that was…not impossible, but highly improbable. Time-manipulation magic did exist, but it was tightly controlled and kept under high security in Canterlot. Most of the highest-skilled unicorns in the world didn’t even know those spells. He doubted that the middle-aged mare was capable of such a feat. And yet…here she was. There must be an explanation.

***

After a longer period of rest, Spring Bloom felt well enough to eat something. The food was bland, carrying the distinct taste – or lack thereof – of something that had been preserved for a while. The doctor from before (Needle Prick, he had introduced himself) sat beside her, patiently answering her questions. He seemed much less confused this time around, even if his attention was divided between her and that strange black rectangle he was constantly poking at.

“So where am I, again?” She asked between bites of what she assumed was mashed potatoes.

“You’re on board the Maulwurf. It’s a mobile mining and refinery station. It mines the lunar surface and refines it into oxygen, water, helium-3, aluminum…all sorts of things.”

Spring suddenly had a thought. She picked up a salt packet with her magic and dropped it back onto her tray. It fell quickly, not the way she had grown accustomed to things falling on the moon. Needle Prick regarded her quizzically.

“The gravity is different. This doesn’t feel like moon gravity.”

Needle Prick smirked and tapped the floor with his hoof. “Gravity plating. It generates an artificial gravity field. Makes living on the moon for long periods of time healthier and more comfortable.”

Spring nodded slowly. She understood just enough physics to get the gist of what he was saying; she figured Starshine would have had a field day here with all the new technology.

“What’s the…Lunar Mining…Company…?”

“Lunar Mining Commission. It’s one of the mining companies that have mineral rights on the moon, and the largest. Everything that isn’t used in the lunar factories gets shipped planetside and sold. That’s how we stay in business.”

“There are factories on the moon!?”

“Oh yeah! Huge, sprawling complexes making everything from advanced composites to entire spaceships. Turns out there’s a whole lot of neat stuff you can do in one-sixth gee, but that’s not my area of expertise.”

“What about Griffin Galactic?”

“Those sleazeballs? They went out of business over a hundred years ago. Even if they pioneered private spaceflight, as soon as competitors cropped up they started cutting corners to reduce costs. Got a lot of ponies killed before they finally went under.”

The nonchalant way that Dr. Needle was answering her questions suddenly inspired another question. “Do you…know who I am?”

Needle paused for a moment. “I have a pretty good idea.” He floated the black rectangle over to her; behind a small pane of glass, she could see a block of encyclopedia-like text, as crisp as if she were reading it from a book. “Is this you?”

Spring couldn’t suppress a gasp as she read the page. It read like an obituary, describing the exact circumstances of her disappearance, and the search efforts to find her. She wished they’d used a better picture, though – it was the same one that had been taken for her employee badge, dorky smile and all. She hated that photo.

She felt her hooves start to shake as panic took hold, but she suppressed it with a gulp.

“Yeah…that’s me.”

“So if you don’t mind, I have a question for you.”

Spring just nodded, still in shock.

“What happened after the accident? Obviously you didn’t die, but you simply disappeared without a trace. Then you show up in the middle of nowhere, a hundred and fifty years later.”

Spring took a moment to collect her thoughts, then told him everything she remembered. Well, almost everything. She left out the strange dream, but she told him everything else.

“So yeah. Now I’m in the future, and everypony I’ve ever known is gone.” She expected to become distraught again, maybe burst into tears, but she just felt empty.

When she was done, Needle Prick was deep in thought for a few seconds, then smiled and let out a quiet chuckle.

“What’s so funny?”

“Sorry, it’s just that some of my coworkers have had discussions about Nightmare Moon. Saying things like ‘oh, she couldn’t have survived even five minutes on the surface, let alone a thousand years!’ And I just want to grab them and shout, ‘Have you read the story!? She wasn’t imprisoned on the moon, she was imprisoned in the moon, in like a wishy-washy magical way.’ And it seems like I was right, so…yeah…sorry.”

Spring couldn’t suppress a giggle. “Oh, I remember several ponies having that same discussion just before the first mission to the moon. Everyone was wondering what they’d find up there, despite Princess Luna saying there’d be nothing, because, like you said, she wasn’t on the moon, she was in the moon. My husband would joke that there’d be a bunch of snowponies made from moon dust because Princess Luna got so lonely!”

She started to laugh, but it quickly turned into a wheezing cough as she doubled over in pain.

“Woah, careful,” Needle Prick said with concern. “Your lungs aren’t in the best shape after being exposed to hard vacuum.”

Spring eventually recovered after a few minutes of taking short, quick breaths. She fell back onto her pillow and asked another question.

“So I hate to ask for a history lesson, but…what happened over the last 150 years that I might want to know about?”

Needle Prick thought for a moment. “Well, I’m not much of a teacher, but I’ll give you something that will help you learn about anything you want. I can tell you about one thing that springs to mind, though, and that’s the war.”

Spring felt the blood drain from her face. “W-war?”

“Yeah…a civil war, the worst in recent history.”

“I knew there were occasional gangs and other violent ponies that the royal guard had to be sent out for, but a civil war? What happened?”

“Well, about thirty years ago now, a cult popped up that called themselves the ‘Children of the Night’. They worshipped Princess Luna as a goddess, but not the one in Canterlot, you see. When Nightmare Moon returned and was destroyed by the Elements of Harmony way back when, they believed it was all an act. All faked by Princess Celestia and the bearers of the Elements. They believed that the Luna who was sitting on the throne was a…fake, I guess? A puppet, created and controlled by Celestia.”

“That’s insane! Why would Celestia do that?”

“I have no idea, and I haven’t bothered to look into whatever contorted logic they used to come up with that idea. Anyway, the Children of the Night were small and quiet at first, and nopony paid them much attention. But gradually, they started growing, using the datanet to attract more followers. They started spreading propaganda, stating that Celestia was a tyrant who unfairly banished her own sister, and that the real Luna would return someday and reward the faithful.”

“Sorry to interrupt, but what’s the datanet?”

“Oh, right… It’s a little difficult to explain, but the datanet is a…a huge network linking every computer in the world together. It allows ponies to instantly communicate with each other, among other things. It’s had profound effects on society and culture since it was invented.”

Spring nodded. “I think I get it. They had a big maneframe in my office building, with a bunch of terminals everywhere that all connected to it.”

“Eh, kind of. Now imagine if all the maneframes around the world were connected to each other.”

Spring’s eyebrows disappeared into her mane as she realized the implications.

“Anyway, one day Luna herself went on public record denouncing their claims and condemning the group and their beliefs. I guess that riled them up, because not long after, somepony drove a van full of explosives into a crowd in Vanhoover and killed over two dozen ponies. Celestia didn’t like that one bit. She managed to find the location of their hideout, and led a contingent of royal guards to raid it. Turned the place into a glassy crater.

“But that only made the problem worse. Celestia had just played right into their hoof, seemingly legitimizing their claims that she was a brutal dictator. The cult only grew, and they moved their operation to a swath of desert near Appleloosa, and declared themselves a sovereign state called Selenia. It was some weird theocracy, led by cult members who were now calling themselves ‘The Church of the Holy Moon’.

“Celestia had had enough. She and Luna led the entire royal guard, plus the night guard, to take them out. But they had some powerful spellcasters, and were able to hold off the attack. In retaliation, the cult invaded and destroyed Appleloosa. The buffalo, whose land the cult had taken, as well as the griffins and hippogriffs, pledged their support to Equestria. Together, they attacked the cult again. The two sides fought for years in a stalemate, but eventually the Equestrian forces took over. Most of those lunatics never surrendered; they fought to the death. It was…bad. The leaders were found cowering in their bunkers, and they’re rotting in prison for treason right now.”

***

“Hm…” Tap tap tap.

“No, that’s not…” Tap. Tap.

“What!?” Taptaptaptap.

“How in the name of…!” TAP. TAP.

“Sister!” Luna cried in alarm. “Don’t tap so hard, you’ll crack the screen!”

“Argh, confound this…infernal device!” Celestia grumbled as she fiddled with the tablet held in a golden aura in front of her. The stylus hovered above it, angrily jabbing at the screen. “How do you use these things? I can never get them to behave how I want!”

Luna held out a hoof. “Here, let me—”

Celestia made a frustrated noise and passed the tablet to her sister. The magical glow wreathing the device changed from gold to navy as Luna took it and the stylus.

“Now, what are you trying to do?”

“All I wanted was to read up on this… Maulwurf before we got to the spaceport!”

“Okay, so you tap on the datanet browser…”

“Yes, I did that.”

“Wait for it to load…then tap on the search bar…”

“What? Let me see that.” Celestia leaned over to look at the screen. “How did you get there? That’s not what I was seeing before.”

Luna tapped on the screen and pulled up a gallery of all the programs that were currently open. “Which one were you looking at?”

Celestia squinted at the screen and pointed to one of the windows with her hoof. “That one.”

“Tia, dear, that’s your email.”

“Oh. Well, they all look the same. And so hard to read on that tiny screen, too.”

Luna expertly tapped at the screen and passed the tablet back. “There. I’ve pulled up an encyclopedia article on the Maulwurf.” She couldn’t suppress a giggle as Celestia took the tablet back with a grumbled ‘thank you.’

Everyone seemed to be surprised with how easily Luna understood modern technology. She couldn’t explain it, it just made sense to her. Celestia, on the other hoof, was constantly flustered by it all, giving every excuse to avoid interacting with anything more complicated than a light switch. Steam power, indoor plumbing, even electricity had all been received just fine, but Luna suspected that her sister’s issue with the electronics revolution was that it had all happened so fast. In less than sixty years, Equestria had gone from maneframes the size of small houses, to compact devices small enough to fit in a pocket that could access the total of all pony knowledge. But the datanet and touchscreens had been a part of daily life for the better part of a century now; if anything, Luna was more surprised that Celestia hadn’t picked up on it.

Not to mention the political minefield that was social media. Luna was the only one between them who was allowed access to their Chirper account, after several blunders by Celestia that culminated in a hilariously nonsensical and misspelt message. It was still the butt of many jokes on forum netpages and comment threads.

With her sister placated, Luna turned to look out the window to her left. Their private VTOL aircraft was currently blasting over the Equestrian countryside at several hundred kilometers per hour. While certainly faster and more efficient than chariot travel, Luna had to admit there was a certain nostalgic charm to that older mode of transportation. She and Celestia both tried to use their chariot whenever they could take a more leisurely outing, when there was little need for haste. This, however, was not one of those trips.

Luna thought back to when she had first discovered Spring Bloom in the very same prison her sister had banished her to, feeling a fresh pang of guilt. That poor mare… it was only happenstance that Luna even found her at all. After a particularly lavish party, and perhaps one too many cocktails, Luna found herself idly wondering if the moon could have dreams. Snickering at the thought, her rosy-faced sister – who was also similarly inebriated – egged her to try. She cast her dreamwalking spell on the moon, dodging the sleeping ponies living on the moon’s surface, to touch the moon itself. Unsurprisingly, the moon was not dreaming. But somepony in the moon was! She probed deeper, and found that there was a pony trapped in the prison that she herself had occupied so long ago.

Luna had reached out and spoken to the pony. She soothed her fears as best as she could, and immediately consulted her sister. Celestia was able to pluck her from her prison with ease; unfortunately, Celestia had no way of knowing where she’d ended up. Her spell should have placed her close to the nearest other pony, but there was no way to be sure, and Luna couldn’t find her in the dream realm; which was either good or very, very bad.

Celestia had made urgent calls to the facilities on the moon’s surface, asking desperately if a pony had suddenly appeared in their midst. For a time, there was nothing. Then, a response came from a remote mining facility. A mare had stumbled in, nearly dead from vacuum exposure, but she was being cared for and would make a full recovery. Their relief immeasurable, the sisters immediately made plans to travel to the moon and visit Spring Bloom themselves.

The royal princesses usually didn’t partake in space travel. Not that they didn’t like it; Celestia loved being able to see the entirety of the planet at once, and Luna found it enjoyable – strange, but enjoyable – being so close to the moon. Unfortunately, they were both far too busy most days to find an excuse to make the trip, even if Twilight’s device could remove their celestial obligations. Their trips to the moon usually involved ceremonies or christenings or other official functions. Luna had attended the opening of the first hotel on the moon, bearing her namesake, and they both had been present for the opening of the first lunar city: Starshine City, named for one of the first ponies to be lost in space. Twilight, Cadance, and Flurry Heart had also been there. Cadance and Flurry had absolutely loved flying in space, and floating around in zero-gee, but poor Twilight had been sick until her hooves touched the lunar surface.

Less than an hour of flight time later, the princess’ VTOL landed at the Manehattan Metropolitan Spaceport, the largest spaceport in Equestria. They were quickly escorted across the tarmac, contingent of guards in tow, to a waiting shuttle that would take them into orbit and onwards to the moon.

Luna caught her sister’s sigh and looked over to see her absently staring out the shuttle’s window. She knew that sigh; something was bothering her.

“Tia? What’s the matter?”

Celestia turned to face her sister. “I just hope Spring Bloom is all right. Poor thing. What happened to her must have been awful.”

Luna patted Celestia’s shoulder with a reassuring hoof. “I know. The fault is mine for not noticing her there sooner. A hundred and fifty years…”

“Don’t try to saddle this on yourself, Lulu. The fault is mine just as much. I should have dispelled that place as soon as you left it.”

“I was actually thinking about that, Tia. I think… I think that prison may have saved her.”

Celestia furrowed her brow in curiosity. “How do you mean?”

“Remember the circumstances of her disappearance? She was involved in that sightseeing vehicle accident.”

“Yes, I recall.”

“She was quickly running out of air, so her suit must have been damaged.”

Celestia didn’t respond, waiting for Luna to finish working her way through her logic.

“There’s no way she would have survived before help could come. I think…I think falling into that prison saved her life.”

“That makes sense,” Celestia mused, “but it begs the question – how did she end up there in the first place? Nopony can simply stumble into that place, someone has to send them there. But who could have done that? And why?”

Their conversation was interrupted by the shuttle pilot urging them to strap themselves in for takeoff. Luna and Celestia both remembered when the ascent to orbit was an intense experience. Celestia had always found it exciting, but Luna much preferred fewer gees rather than more. Not long after its invention, the same technology behind gravity plating had been applied to spacecraft, damping accelerations and making spaceflight much more comfortable. The system couldn’t keep up with sudden jolts from turbulence and the like, so passengers were still required to wear safety belts. It was an odd sensation, being able to see the ground quickly receding and the clouds flying past without having any sensation of movement.

Once they were clear of the atmosphere – or at least at an altitude where the pressure was negligible – Luna felt the intense magical aura of the teleportation crystal energizing. Somewhere beyond the bulkhead behind her lay a massive spell matrix crystal, etched with an extremely powerful teleportation spell.

With a crackle and flash of light, the planet below them disappeared and was replaced by the grey surface of the moon. Somewhere relatively nearby was a beacon, providing a safe arrival point for the ship in high lunar orbit. Teleporting such a vast distance at once could leave them as much as several hundred kilometers away from their planned arrival point; which was not a problem in open space.

The view outside shifted as the pilot swung the ship around and fired the engines to keep the ship in a stable orbit. Through various physics reasons that Luna didn’t quite understand, the ship’s speed and direction remained constant from one end of the teleport to the other. Since orbital velocity for the moon was much lower than that of Equus, the ship had to do some course corrections to avoid slamming into the surface or being flung out into deep space.

She overheard the pilot getting clearance to transfer to a lower orbit and make a direct route to the Maulwurf.

***

Control Section was a fairly dull place, even high up in Maulwurf’s space traffic control tower. Piper sat behind her desk, idly swinging her swivel chair from side to side. The vast majority of traffic that ever came to the Maulwurf, or left it, were cargo haulers, either taking refined materials to the lunar factories or delivering supplies for the station and her crew. Piper’s job was to monitor the flyspace around the station and make sure none of the ships approached too close to each other, and assign landing pads. But the ships came and left so infrequently that she never had to divert any of them, and all of the landing pads were always available. So she sat there with her cheek supported by one hoof, and the other swiping through the volumetric display. She was coming frighteningly close to falling asleep lately. If the chirps from the proximity sensors didn’t keep her awake, the fear of dozing off definitely did. If Rosette ever caught her asleep on the job, that would be the end of her career in space.

She looked down at the station through the large windows of the control tower, and could see a cargo hauler currently on the only occupied landing pad. In a few minutes, it would request takeoff and departure, and Piper would give it clearance to fly away with nothing in its path but endless moonscape.

Suddenly her console gave a happy chirp, and an orange dot popped up at the edge of her volumetric display; a ship was nearing Maulwurf’s flyspace, and its tag denoted it as a passenger shuttle. Passenger flights to and from the station weren’t uncommon, with new crew members arriving or current ones departing on leave. Piper let out a small squeak as she read the flight number: ESA001. ‘Equestrian Space Administration One’ was a flight number reserved for any vessel that a princess was currently aboard. She turned to the monitor next to her, which held a list of all registered flight plans to and from the station. Mixed in with all the cargo flights was a single passenger flight, matching the flight number of the blip on her volumetric display: ESA001. Piper knew from its position that it would still be under the command of ‘Moon Surface Control’, a general control station that handled any ship in orbit, or otherwise outside the flyspace of anything else. Soon, though, they would pass the ship’s pilot to her control tower.

Right on cue, Piper’s headset crackled with an incoming transmission.

“Maulwurf tower, ESA One, out five-thousand at two-point-five, requesting vectors for VTOL and direct course.”

With practiced ease, Piper responded smoothly to the pilot’s request.

“ESA One, pad four, descend to one-point-five, maintain present heading.”

The pilot’s response came just as smoothly.

“ESA One, cleared to one-five, present heading.”

The exchange was a series of efficient phraseology, designed to impart the maximum amount of information with the minimum amount of words, or chance of misinterpretation. The pilot had begun by identifying his distance to the station and altitude, and requesting directions for a vertical landing at the station. He had also requested a desire for a direct approach, not to be diverted; a request Piper was all too happy to grant, given the vessel’s current passenger.

Her headset crackled again with another transmission.

“Maulwurf control, LMC one-four-four at pad seven, requesting VTOL departure.”

This transmission had come from the cargo shuttle, which had finished loading and had requested takeoff. Piper had two options at this point: force the shuttle to wait until the passenger shuttle had landed, or let the cargo ship take off and divert it so that its course would not interfere with ESA One. Piper had gone so long without needing to direct two ships at the same time, so she went with the latter option.

“LMC one-four-four, clear for takeoff from pad seven, climb to point-five and turn right to heading one-eight-zero on departure.”

“LMC one-four-four clear for takeoff, point-five and heading one-eight-zero.”

“LMC one-four-four readback correct.”

Piper peered out the window to see the cargo shuttle light its VTOL engines and slowly ascend from the pad. Per her instructions, it slowly rose to five hundred meters in altitude before swiveling around to point south, then gliding away. She turned back toward her volumetric display, where she could see the orange dot of the cargo shuttle floating away to the south, while ESA One continued its approach from the east. Plenty of room. The cargo shuttle’s flight plan had it headed east toward Starshine City; she would have to redirect it once it was clear of the station. Her attention turned back toward the passenger ship.

“ESA One, descend to point-five, cleared direct to pad four and ILS.”

“ESA One, cleared to point-five, direct to four and ILS.”

While ESA One was continuing its approach, she tuned the radio back to the cargo shuttle. It was far enough away from the station that there was no risk of it resuming its flight plan.

“LMC one-four-four, climb to two-point-five-thousand, clear direct to Starshine.”

“LMC one-four-four, cleared for two-point-five, direct Starshine.”

Piper was practically giddy. This was the busiest the station had been in months, not to mention the arrival of a princess! She savored her joy for a few precious minutes before ESA One came into view as a blue dot in the windows. She watched as it steadily grew larger, slowing on approach to the station. Its automated landing system guided the pilot to bring it to a hover five hundred meters above landing pad four, and it slowly began to descend. When it touched down, a final transmission came from its pilot.

“ESA One, VTOL touchdown on pad four.”

“ESA One, contact pad control on one-one-eight-zero.”

“ESA One, switching to pad.”

And that was it. ESA One was out of her hooves now. The ship would remain under pad four’s control until it was time to depart. There was one more thing to take care of, though. The cargo shuttle was approaching the edge of Maulwurf’s flyspace.

“LMC one-four-four, contact moon surface control on one-three-five-decimal-five.”

“LMC one-four-four, switching to Surface Control. Have a good day.”

And with that, Piper’s domain was empty once again. She sighed and went back to spinning the volumetric display, bored.

***

After a day of bed rest, Spring Bloom was feeling well enough to take short walks around the area she now knew was called Medical Section. Her legs felt wobbly, but Needle Prick always walked beside her in case she fell. She was able to take deeper breaths too, and the very act of breathing no longer caused pain.

“So I was wondering,” she asked Needle Prick during one of her walks, “what does the Maulwurf look like? I’ve only ever seen it from the inside.”

Needle Prick smiled and started tapping at the black rectangle he always seemed to carry with him. “Ah, yes. She’s quite the sight. Here.”

He turned it to show her that a movie was now playing on the screen. It had been recorded from a spacecraft as it flew slow orbits around the station.

There was no good reference to get an accurate sense of scale, but the Maulwurf looked massive. It appeared to be about the size and shape of several hippogriff frigates welded together, slowly crawling along the surface on huge caterpillar tracks. Spring Bloom could make out what appeared to be landing pads and a tall windowed tower at the front. At the back of the station, nestled amongst a tangle of structures and machinery, a trio of gargantuan wheels rimmed with excavator buckets turned slowly. In its wake, the Maulwurf left a gaping trench in the regolith, along with a cloud of dust stretching to the horizon that the camera shuttle took efforts to avoid.

As Spring watched the video, Needle Prick gave commentary. “She scoots along at about two kilometers an hour, chewing up the surface with those big bucket wheels. Any waste materials from the refining process get thrown back in the trench. Cargo shipments come in and out from those landing pads. Oh, and that dust cloud? It stretches back for over a hundred kilometers. Takes weeks to settle, and ships can’t fly through it.”

“Are we… is it moving right now?”

“Yep! Bet you can’t even feel it, can you?”

The only thing Spring could feel was a slight vibration through her hooves, but that was easy to ignore. She hadn’t seen any windows yet, so there had been no reference from which to see the station’s movement.

“Since she was first fired up about ten years ago, she’s only been stopped a couple times for maintenance. She’s headed east right now, towards Starshine City. Once we get close enough, she’ll get turned around and start heading back the other way.”

“Wait. Did you say…Starshine City?”

“Yeah, it was the first settlement on the moon, and the largest. Named for one of the first ponies to be killed in space.”

Spring Bloom felt a warmth blossoming in her heart. She stumbled and had to lean against the wall for support.

“Woah – Spring, are you all right?”

She felt a tear form in her eye. “Yeah, I’m…fine.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just… Starshine was my husband.”

Needle Prick said nothing, just stared in shocked silence.

“I miss him so much, and you have no idea how much it means to me that he’s still remembered after all this time.”

Soon Spring had reached the limit of her endurance, and Needle Prick led her back through the corridors to her hospital room. On the way back, she noticed several ponies – station staff, judging by their uniforms – rushing the other way. Even the doctor seemed confused.

“That corridor leads toward the landing pads, but I’ve never seen ponies in such a hurry to get there,” he said. “Usually it’s just supply shipments or crew changes.”

Soon they reached her room, and Spring got settled back into bed. Needle Prick began busying himself with hooking her back up to the monitors, when an orderly entered the room and whispered something in his ear. Spring saw his eyebrows elevate briefly, then furrow in thought.

“What was that about?” Spring asked.

“It seems you have a couple visitors,” he replied, and stood clear of the door as it opened.

“Who –” she began to say, but found herself cut short by the figures she saw standing in the doorway: the royal sisters, Princesses Celestia and Luna. They ducked under the lintel and sat down at the foot of her bed, smiles never leaving their faces. Princess Celestia’s smile was wide, bright, and radiant, and Spring swore she could see beams of sunlight streaming from her face. Princess Luna’s smile was more subdued, but no less happy.

Princess Luna spoke first. “I am so very glad to see that you are safe and sound.”

“Th-thank you, Princess,” Spring managed to respond.

“Spring Bloom,” Princess Celestia spoke up next. “I believe we’ve met before.” Her smile turned mischievous. “It’s been over a hundred and fifty years, but it feels like only yesterday!”

Spring only gulped at that, unsure of what to say. The joke had made her feel even more uncomfortable about her current situation, but she wasn’t about to tell the Princess that.

She hardly began putting her thoughts in order before Princess Luna gasped and actually punched her sister in the shoulder.

“Sister!” She hissed. “That was hardly appropriate. Look at the poor thing!”

Spring saw Princess Celestia’s face take on an expression she’d never seen from the monarch before: shame.

“I am sorry about that, my dear. My penchant for jokes is sometimes…in poor taste. Forgive me.”

Before Spring could stammer a response, Needle Prick spoke up. “Your Highnesses, to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“How much did Miss Bloom tell you about her…situation?” Princess Celestia asked.

“Well, she told me that she became trapped in the moon after an accident, in the same prison that Luna was in during her exile. And that you found her there, a hundred and fifty years later, and placed her on my doorstep. Almost literally, in fact.”

The princesses exchanged a glance. “Well, it appears I’ll have to explain less than I anticipated,” Princess Celestia replied. “You have our deepest gratitude for everything you’ve done for her.”

Needle Prick smiled at that, but made an attempt to brush it off. “You’re welcome, but I’m just doing my job.”

“I have to ask, Doctor, out of curiosity more than anything…what condition was Miss Bloom in when she arrived on your doorstep?” Luna asked, despite looking a little sick.

Needle Prick turned to Spring. “Do you mind?”

She shook her head, even though she was honestly a little apprehensive about hearing it. She didn’t want to deny one of the Princesses, despite her discomfort.

The doctor began his account of the day she was teleported into the station.

“She was discovered by a pair of maintenance workers in a ground-level airlock as they were heading out. Lucky for her, as that airlock is hardly ever used. I was called almost immediately; in vacuum exposure cases, time is of the utmost importance. I estimate she was exposed for about a minute; she would have lost consciousness about fifteen seconds in. The capillaries in her eyes and nose had ruptured, and her tongue was swollen. Her body was covered in bruises, also from ruptured capillaries. The damage to her lungs, combined with the shattered visor of her spacesuit, leads me to believe the pressure loss was relatively rapid, rather than gradual.”

Princess Luna’s face was grim, but she remained silent.

“Thankfully, she was stable enough that more drastic measures were unnecessary,” Needle Prick continued. “Just fluids, painkillers, and plenty of bed rest.”

Spring thought she heard sighs of relief from the princesses, but their faces were still.

“Thank you again, Doctor,” Princess Celestia said. “We’ve both placed some measure of blame on ourselves for this tragedy, and we will do everything in our power to help her as much as we can.”

The last thing Spring wanted was for the princesses to feel like what happened was in any way their fault, and she made to speak up, but Princess Celestia held up a hoof to forestall any argument.

“Beginning,” she continued, “with a royal escort back to the palace in Canterlot.”

Spring felt her jaw drop. She wasn’t anypony special; just a thirty-something accountant who had ended up at the receiving end of one of the universe’s cruel jokes. But now, the royalty of Equestria, not one but both ruling princesses, were offering their help, including personally escorting her to the palace.

She was snapped out of her stupor by Needle Prick speaking up.

“Pardon me, your Highnesses… do you mean now?”

“Well, yes,” Princess Celestia answered. “Our shuttle is ready and waiting to take you back.”

The doctor shook his head. “Absolutely not. She stumbled in from hard vacuum just yesterday. She can hardly walk on her own. To be completely honest, she needs another week of rest at minimum. I cannot in good conscience let her leave this station, on my oath as a doctor.”

The other three occupants of the room were somewhat taken aback by Needle Prick’s outburst. After a tense few seconds, Princess Celestia laughed quietly.

“Of course, Doctor, forgive me. I wouldn’t dream of putting undue stress on the mare. She’s been through enough already.”

“Thank you, your Highness.”

“Well, I am immeasurably grateful to see you in good health, and in good hooves as well,” Princess Celestia said, nodding to Needle Prick, “but unfortunately we cannot wait here until Miss Bloom gets better. We must return to Canterlot. Let us know when she is well enough to return, Doctor, and we will send a shuttle immediately.”

The princesses exchanged final words of farewell and, much to Spring’s shock, bowed to them both before making their exit.

“Well. I never thought I’d have to put my hoof down against the Princesses, but here we are. This has been a very strange week,” Needle Prick said, slowly shaking his head.

“Um. Thank you,” Spring said.

“For what?”

“For that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anypony tell them off like that.”

“Me neither. But I take my job seriously, and I’m not going to release you without a clean bill of health, royal escort or no.”

Needle Prick looked around the room awkwardly for a bit, before his ears shot up. “Oh! I almost forgot to give you this.” He lit his horn and picked up another black rectangle from a nearby counter and passed it to Spring.

“I’m sure you’ve been curious about these. It’s a portable computer called a tablet.”

Spring picked it up, and its size and weight were even more astonishing now that she knew what is was.

“This is a computer!?”

“Yup! It can access the datanet, read and write emails, play games, take photos…I use mine for medical work, and the maintenance teams use smaller hoof-mounted units to help with their jobs.”

Spring turned it over and couldn’t see any discernible buttons or switches. “How do I…turn it on?”

“It’s already on. Just tap it a few times to wake it up.”

Spring did as instructed and tapped the screen with her hoof. It lit up with a bright display covered in small pictures. Needle Prick helped her navigate the device, explaining that each of the tiny pictures was actually a program, and touching it would start the program. It was even powerful enough to run several programs simultaneously, and you could switch between them freely without losing any data.

The feature that Dr. Needle was most excited to show her was a virtual encyclopedia. He showed her how she could “search” for any topic she wanted, and it would bring up an up-to-date encyclopedia page, complete with full-color photographs and links to other pages within the text.

Spring was dumbfounded – in her experience, an encyclopedia had been dozens of volumes taking up entire shelves in the library. She vividly remembered spending hours in the library on a research project, writing and editing everything with pen and paper before using a typewriter to make it presentable. Home computers had been starting to increase in popularity just before she…left, including text editing programs and attachable printers, but those machines were bulky and heavy. Everything those could do and more was now contained in a flat piece of metal and glass that could fit in a mailbox.

After taking her through the basics, Needle Prick left her alone, saying that he had other work to do. Spring had no idea what she wanted to look up at first, so she sat and thought with the tablet in her hooves until the screen went dark. She eventually decided on something and tapped the screen to wake the tablet up again, then typed “gravity plating” into the search field.

The page began with a generic, simplified explanation, then devolved into technical terms and math that she couldn’t make heads or tails of. The gist of it, though, was that gravity plates projected a localized magic field that induced an acceleration in nearby masses. This acceleration could even be configured to point in any direction with any magnitude, which was similar to how spacecraft engines now worked. She followed the link to learn more about those, and found out that instead of burning thousands of liters of rocket fuel, these “kinetic thrusters” could provide almost unlimited acceleration as long as there was enough electrical power.

That led her to read about spell matrix crystals, a topic that she was at least somewhat familiar with; the concept of using a network of tiny enchanted crystals formed the basis of modern computing technology – or at least, what had been modern in her day. A century and a half of advancements had seen these crystals to shrinking to microscopic scales, allowing millions of them to be built into a single device, just like the one she was holding. The crystals were still grown, just like they had been in Spring’s time, but interestingly enough the technology still hadn’t developed enough to grow the truly huge crystals that were used in spacecraft. Since the minimum size of a spell matrix crystal went up with the power requirement of the imprinted spell, very large cyrstals were built into spaceships that allowed them to teleport all the way to the moon and back.

That was something Spring had to stop and think about. A flight that used to take three days could now be done in seconds, leading to the blossoming of a new space-based economy, complete with factories and cities. She kept reading until she felt her eyelids grow heavy. She looked at the clock on the wall and realized with surprise that she had been reading for hours, following linked page after linked page. It was such a natural progression of topics, that she hadn’t noticed that she’d read through almost twenty of them.

With a yawn, she set the tablet on the nightstand and curled up to sleep.

***

The next morning Spring was feeling a lot better. Her bruises were healing, she could take deeper breaths without pain, and according to Dr. Needle her eyes were no longer bloodshot. As she was eating her breakfast (which she had been told was oatmeal, but she had yet to find a single oat in it), she noticed that the doctor kept giving her strange sidelong glances as he was checking her vitals.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Hm? No, I’m fine,” he replied. “It’s just…are you okay?”

She was pretty sure she knew what he was talking about, but she was in a good mood and decided to play dumb. “You just said I’m doing great, right?”

“Well yes, you’re recovering nicely physically, but…” he seemed to founder for a bit. “Are you doing alright…mentally? Emotionally?”

Spring wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She let out a heavy sigh. “Honestly…I don’t know. It was a shock at first, but now I’m just…numb. I’m sure I’ll keep getting reminders of how different things are, and how much I’ve lost, and it’ll be hard. But I’m not going to curl up in the fetal position and repeatedly scream “FUTURE” or something like that.”

That brought out a chuckle from both of them and managed to lighten the mood again.

“Honestly though, if you feel like you need to talk to someone…I’m probably not the right pony. There are therapists and counselors in Medical Section; just let me know, and I can have one of them come and talk to you.”

“Thanks,” Spring said, even though she felt like she’d be able to talk with Dr. Needle just fine.

That thought brought something to mind. “Why are there therapists here?”

“Maulwurf is pretty remote, even for the moon, so it’d be really inconvenient to send ponies back and forth to Starshine City every day. The standard work period for an LMC employee here is six months, after which they get two months of paid leave. Some have their families here on the moon, but most go back to Equus. Spending six months at a time inside a metal can hundreds of thousands of kilometers from home can be hard on some ponies. Not to mention that the station spends all its time on the dark side, so you can’t even see the sun until we get really close to Starshine. The Maulwurf was designed to be as non-claustrophobic as possible, but there are still some areas with no windows at all.”

“Like Medical Section? I haven’t seen any windows yet.”

“Yeah, this section doesn’t have any exterior bulkheads. But if you think it’s stifling in here, you do not want to see the maintenance areas.” Needle Prick gave a shudder. “I don’t envy the poor bastards who have to work down there.

“Speaking of which,” he continued, “You’ve been practically bed-ridden for over three days, and you’ve never even been outside of Medial Section. I’ve gotten approval to take you on a tour of the station, if you’d like. Then maybe later, we could get you something to eat besides hospital food.”

Spring set down her spoon and looked Needle Prick in the eye. “It is taking every ounce of my self-control not to leap out of this bed right now.”

***

It was amazing what a hot shower could do. Spring Bloom felt better than she had in over a week; the less said about the zero-g showers aboard the Celestia Dawn, the better, and she hadn’t been at the Luna Hotel long enough to experience theirs. But the Maulwurf had proper hot water, in proper gravity, in proper – albeit small – shower stalls. After lunch, which would hopefully be her last experience with hospital food for awhile, Needle Prick led her out of her room.

“You’ve seen most of Medical Section already, so I won’t spend too much time here. It’s honestly pretty slow around here aside from routine checkups and the occasional sprain. You’re the most exciting thing to happen in a long time.” Dr. Needle grinned, but his expression quickly turned to horror. “I mean, uh, not exciting, like, it was enjoyable you almost died, but, like, interesting? No…I’m just going to shut up now.”

Spring couldn’t help but chuckle at the way the doctor kept stumbling over his words, but he quickly regained his composure as he motioned to a sign on the wall.

“Our first stop is Control Section, and to get there we’ll be passing through the Atrium.”

Several corridors and an elevator ride later, Spring found herself in the largest indoor area she had seen in space so far. The ceiling stretched perhaps three stories above her, and the walls were lined with mezzanines. It reminded her of a mall, even more so than the gravity ring on the Celestia Dawn. Various shops, bars, restaurants, and even a theater lined the walls, advertised with colorful signage. The floor was scattered with potted plants and even a decorative fountain, with tables and benches clustered in groups for ponies to sit and eat, or just talk. The most impressive feature, at least to her, was that one whole wall was a single, massive window, stretching from floor to ceiling, where she could see the endless swath of lunar terrain stretch out before her. There wasn’t much to see; aside from pools of light illuminated by the exterior floodlights, the bright lights from inside the station just made a reflective glare on the windows. It might have been spectacular in sunlight, but Spring was unsure how much she really appreciated the sight of the moon’s surface anymore.

“The Atrium is where everypony aboard the Maulwurf spends most of their leisure time, and spends the money the LMC pays them with. We’ll be back here for dinner, so take some time to think about what you might want to eat.”

“You have to pay for food?”

“Yep. Lodging is free, but you have to pay for your own meals. It’s not too expensive though, and the pay more than makes up for it. If you’re really pinching bits, the cheapest option is the cafeteria, which serves…well, the hospital food you’ve been eating has come from there. So most ponies just eat at one of the restaurants.”

Spring craned her neck around, impressed at the sheer variety of options, and was taken aback at seeing a familiar sign outside one of the restaurants.

“There’s a Hayburger here!?”

“Yeah! All these places are actually businesses, run by private contractors. Hayburger, Shimmy Shake, Sonata Taco…I admit I might have gained a little weight since I started working here.”

***

Needle led Spring to the entrance of Control Section, where he introduced her to an older mare with chestnut hair and a burgundy coat. She greeted Spring with a friendly smile, but her gold eyes were piercing; she seemed to be sizing Spring up. Spring also noticed that Dr. Needle seemed tense around the director.

“Ah, this is the mare I’ve heard so much about,” she said in an accent Spring didn’t recognize. “You’ve been quite the talk of our little station.”

Spring didn’t know how to respond, feeling a touch embarrassed at all the attention she was getting.

“But I don’t mean to make you feel unwelcome. My name is Rosette, and I am the director of the Maulwurf. It’s my job to make sure everything runs smoothly. Please, come with me and I’ll show you around my…domain, so to speak.”

Rosette led the pair into the first room of Control Section, which was a large space mostly consisting of staff seated behind computer screens.

“This is the central control room, where we can monitor and control almost everything that goes on aboard the station. From here we can send and receive telemetry and communications from Starshine City, monitor the environmental and gravity systems, and, most importantly, supervise the onboard harvesting and refining operations.”

Spring also noticed that there was a console monitoring what appeared to be feeds from security cameras.

“There are cameras mounted almost everywhere in the station,” Rosette said with a pleased smile. “We can locate anypony, anywhere, at any time.”

Rosette then took them up into the space traffic control tower, where they could see the pony responsible for directing the in- and outflow of spacecraft to and from the station. In addition to flat screens, her console’s main display had a three-dimensional representation of the station and the surrounding areas projected above it with orange light. With motions of her hooves, the operator could rotate the display and zoom it in or out, or lock onto specific targets to track their movements. Unfortunately there didn’t appear to be much going on; although the controller did her best to look busy, Spring couldn’t see any ships appear on the display and there was no radio chatter.

As they descended the elevator back to the control center, Rosette spoke up. “I don’t mean to pry, but I have to ask, Spring Bloom, what happened the day you stumbled into our airlock? I’ve heard the story from Dr. Prick here, but I’d like to get it straight from the horse’s mouth. So to speak.”

Spring recounted the story again, fighting through the nausea and trembles she always got when thinking about what happened.

“…the next thing I knew, I was waking up in a hospital bed. I have no idea how or why I escaped suffocating to death, or ending up a hundred and fifty years in the future.”

Rosette was silent, bearing only a thoughtful expression until the elevator doors opened and they all stepped out into the control center. “That is an interesting story. One I think you will need to repeat often.”

After Rosette bid them goodbye and the pair left Control Section, Spring was left with a strange feeling, like she had failed an interview.

“I don’t think she believes you,” Needle said.

“What? Why not?”

“She’s always been a…skeptical person. Don’t take it personally.”

“You seemed pretty uncomfortable around her.”

“Was it that obvious?”

Spring simply nodded.

“Well, we had a brief relationship a few years ago. We didn’t part on the most amicable of terms.

“She has a strong force of personality, and I can respect that. But she’s incredibly ambitious, and I could never shake the sense that she was never showing me the real Rosette, just a mask she wore while she was figuring out how to use me to further her own goals.”

***

The walk to the next destination on their tour took them all the way from the front of the station to the rear, to the Engineering Section. According to Needle, it was by far the largest, taking up over half of the bulk of the station.

Their guide for Engineering Section was Sigma, an excitable earth pony stallion who took great pride in how smoothly the refineries were run. He led them into the production areas, where mazes of pipes ran along every bit of wall and ceiling. Sigma pointed out which pipes carried which material, and explained the function of the various pieces of machinery they connected to. The regolith, he explained, was routed to an array of furnaces, which melted it down and combined it with various chemicals that separated the constituent elements. The process yielded materials like iron, aluminum, magnesium, and titanium. They could even extract water from the ice crystals mixed into the soil.

Another large room contained the machinery that actually collected the lunar soil, including the massive bucket wheels that Spring had seen on the exterior view of the station. They weren’t allowed to go inside – Sigma explained that moon dust could be dangerous if inhaled – but she could see most of the machinery through the windows. The ground-up soil was collected into large pipes and distributed to the melters and reaction vessels.

The last area was far cleaner and quieter than the production areas had been. In the center of the room were two structures, several meters tall and resembling massive metallic donuts covered in pipes and wires. A few technicians milled about, mostly behind a collection of computer monitors along the far wall. One of the technicians, she noticed, was a zebra mare; and she realized that was the first non-pony race she had seen on the station so far. She was about to ask about it when Sigma spoke up.

“And these,” he announced, “Are the station’s twin fusion reactors.”

Spring couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows and gape. She didn’t really understand fusion power, but she had heard whisperings in her own time that it was this miracle technology that could provide almost limitless power with meager fuel, but the technology was always too far away. And right in front of her were two of them.

“They use helium-3 as fuel, collected from the very soil beneath us,” he explained with all the zeal of a high school science teacher. “Inside the toroidal chambers, a magical containment field holds the fuel inside, raising it to temperatures hotter than the surface of the sun! The atoms crash into each other and fuse together, releasing lots of energy in the process…what is it?”

Spring realized she had been slowly shaking her head. “Sorry, I’ve just been thinking. My grandfather, Spring Hill, died in a coal mine collapse. I remember seeing coal trains kilometers long passing through my hometown. And now I get to see these…fusion reactors that produce power from nothing more than helium.”

“Well, it’s very special helium, but I see your point. Technology of all kinds has advanced a lot in the past hundred and fifty years, and you don’t know how happy I am to be able to show some of it to you.”

Since the reactor hall was the last place to visit, Needle and Spring said goodbye to Sigma and headed back towards the Atrium for the promised dinner free of hospital food.

“Have you thought about what you want to eat?” Needle asked.

Spring thought for a moment. “I want a hayburger.”

Author's Note

Special thanks to Mockingbirb for prereading and suggested edits.

5 - Blood Moon

Azure Coast’s claws grip the stick of his GA-11 Sky Stinger. He looks out the window to see the desert landscape whizzing by at transonic speeds. Appleloosa passes beneath; all of its buildings are either burnt-out shells or demolished completely by now. He gains altitude, reduces speed, and adjusts course to begin circling the AO. He identifies the front lines, the trenches filled with ponies, bison, and griffins fighting against the enemy. He scans the horizon toward the enemy’s fortifications…there. He spots an artillery position, responsible for pounding allied forces. He steers the Sky Stinger on an approach, lines up the crosshairs, and unleashes a few quick bursts of the 20-millimeter cannon. He pulls up, wheels around, and makes another pass, this time dropping a pair of bombs strapped to his wings. He doesn’t hear the impact, but radio calls from ground forces confirm: good hit, splash one. He adjusts course to circle again, waiting for another CAS call.

Cockpit alarm: radar lock. Enemy shouldn’t have missiles; that wasn’t in the briefing. Begin evasive maneuvers. Release countermeasures. Something blue in the mirror…not mission-critical, ignore. High-gee turn, squeeze legs to maintain consciousness. The aircraft shudders. Assessment: Left wing hit. Fuel fire. Copilot dead. Listing left, push stick right to compensate. Losing altitude. Mayday call. Pull up, hydraulics failing, elevators barely responsive. Flare, brace for impact.

Assessment: aircraft on fire, cockpit glass stuck, enemy troops approaching. Release harness, reach for sidearm. Enemy troops start forcing the cockpit open with crowbars and

Azure Coast woke up in his bed. He stared at the ceiling, dappled with moonlight filtering in through the blinds. He performed the breathing exercises his therapist taught him, and felt his heart rate slow back to something approaching normal.

Again. Again with the dreams. There was seemingly nothing he could do against the dreams, so vivid, like replaying a video. He could do things to avoid flashbacks and panic attacks when he was awake, but the dreams…just kept coming. He realized, again, that he probably saw Princess Luna in his aircraft. But the dream version of himself had been so laser-focused that there was no way to convince him that it wasn’t real. Because it had been real.

He looked at the clock. 4:27 AM. There was no way he was going back to sleep. Serving in the hippogriff navy had put him through earlier mornings than this, but his age was starting to catch up with him. He forced himself out of bed and stretched out his aching muscles; some early morning exercise and a run would get him more awake and help him limber up before breakfast.

Carrier food was generally-regarded as being barely edible, especially the reconstituted egg-type substance they fed the sailors every damn morning. You had to learn to like it, or at least tolerate it, otherwise you’d either go hungry or insane. The eggs he ate this morning were far better than the powdered shit, thank the gods, but he had never kicked the habit of slathering everything in hot sauce.

A short drive to the city limits took Azure to the Vanhoover Spaceport, where he worked loading cargo on and off shuttles. It was mindless manual labor, just the way he liked it. His tasks could be boiled down to nothing more complicated than “move this box from here to here.” It reminded him of his time in the military, and he fell into it with ease, turning his brain off and humping crates for eight hours a day. His experience as a carrier-based naval pilot could have gotten Azure a job behind the controls of one of these shuttles in a heartbeat; but he had no desire to pilot an aircraft or spacecraft again.

He clocked in five minutes early and immediately inspected the schedule board, which denoted which terminal and gate each worker would be assigned to that day. He ran a claw down the screen until he reached his name, and saw that “Hangar 17” had been entered next to it.

“Hey Trilby,” he called out. His boss, a slightly overweight pony, looked up from the clipboard he was inspecting.

“Yeah?”

“It says here I’m assigned to Hangar 17? Where is that?”

“Oh, it’s one of the storage hangars, way at the end of the south runway. Some small private joint or whatever just needed an extra hoof loading their cargo shuttles. Shouldn’t take long. I’ve got you at Gate C10 once you’re done with that.”

Azure nodded, grabbed his high-visibility vest, and hopped in one of the carts designed for long-distance travel across the spaceport. Despite being a small spaceport, the smallest in Equestria, the runways still had to be very long to handle the huge craft descending from almost orbital velocity. Skirting the edges of the runways along the maintenance roads, he was able to get an unparalleled view of the giant SSTO shuttles taking off and landing, transporting hundreds of passengers or dozens of tons of cargo all over the world, to orbital stations, and even to the moon.

Near the end of one of the runways was a small, little-used hangar with the number 17 stenciled in fading paint to its main doors. Azure parked the cart nearby and headed inside.

Inside the hangar was a pair of small cargo shuttles, and about two dozen ponies walked in and around them. Upon entering the hangar, almost every single one of them paused what they were doing and turned to look at him.

“Uh…I’m with the spaceport. I was told you needed help loading your shuttles?”

That seemed to placate the workers, and they went back to their tasks. One of them started walking up to him, a slate-grey earth pony stallion with a brown mane clipped into a military cut. As he got closer, Azure could see that he was wearing black tactical barding, similar to the type used by police, and he was also armed. While not strictly unusual, Azure now noticed that, with few exceptions, all of the ponies in the hangar wore weapons.

The unicorns held special pistols in holsters, bare-bones models consisting of little more than a receiver, barrel, and magazine. There was no comfortable way to hold them, but there didn’t really need to be. The other ponies, like the one before him, had their firearms in flank mounts with complicated mechanisms for cocking and firing. Azure had been briefed on these during his time in the military. While they could hold larger firearms, usually rifles or carbines, the mounts were complex, and impossible to reload by the one carrying them. They were far less elegant than the claw-held models wielded by griffins or hippogriffs.

“We’ve just got some crates too heavy for us to lift with magic, so we needed somepony on another forklift,” the pony said. He motioned to a pile of wooden crates and a forklift parked over at the edge of the hangar, while a pony in another forklift was busy loading the same crates into one of the shuttles.

“We’re on a bit of a tight schedule here, so thanks for coming so quick.”

Azure nodded and climbed into the forklift, deftly maneuvering it over to the first crate with practiced ease. Carefully checking his surroundings, he drove it up the lowered ramp of the nearest shuttle and neatly deposited the crate next to dozens of others.

As he continued to make trips back and forth between the shuttle and the pile of crates, Azure couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. He decided to pay attention to that feeling and began looking around, trying to take in as many details as possible.

The fact that almost all the workers in this hangar were armed was the first detail that stood out. The second was that there were no logos or corporate insignia anywhere. No uniforms, nothing on the shuttles; even the crates were similarly unmarked. If what Trilby said was true, and this was some small company making a cargo run, then they were being very clandestine about it.

The pony who had addressed him earlier began talking to somepony, so Azure kept an ear pointed in that direction.

“Everything ready on your end? We’re still on schedule, thankfully.”

“Yep. Shuttle one is full and strapped down. Just need to get the boys loaded and I can start doing pre-flight checks.”

“What about clearance?”

“Handled. I’ve got us registered all the way up to LEO.”

“And shuttle two?”

“They’re registered too, but I haven’t seen the pilot around. The cargo is almost loaded, so we’ll be good to go.”

“Well, that pilot had better –”

Their conversation, as well as Azure’s attention, was distracted by a shout, a screech of tires, and a crash of splintering wood. He looked over to where the other forklift had been loading its last crate into the shuttle, to see that its load had toppled off the tines and landed on another pony who had apparently run in front of the forklift.

Azure carefully stopped his forklift and lowered the crate, then got out to help, but the other forklift was already surrounded by ponies who had been closer. They pulled the pony out from beneath the remains of the crate, where he lay groaning on the concrete floor.

“I’m no doctor, but I don’t think his leg is supposed to bend that way.”

“What should we do? Call an ambulance?”

“We’re not going to call an ambulance, stupid!”

The grey stallion, who by now Azure assumed to be the leader, pushed aside the throng to look at the victim on the floor.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” He stomped and cursed. “That was our only other pilot!”

A shocked silence descended upon the hangar at these words. Azure had gone quiet too, but not for the same reason everyone else had; he was staring, wide-eyed, at the contents of the crate which had fallen. Nestled amongst the splintered wood and packing hay sat the parts for a 20mm anti-aircraft defense cannon, standard equipment for the Equestrian military.

This new revelation brought two possibilities to Azure’s mind: either this was some clandestine military operation, or something far, far worse was going on.

His mind immediately selected ‘far, far worse’ the moment the grey stallion cocked his carbine and pointed it at him. Azure fought back the shakes, the cold sweat, the panic upon seeing a gun pointed at him again.

“Alright, this whole thing has gone tits-up, and I’ve got a fucking schedule to keep, so listen up, grandpa. I don’t suppose you know how to fly one of these, do you?”

Despite the panic, Azure found his mind being forced into combat mode, something he’d wanted to avoid for the rest of his life. In a split second, he assessed the situation. He was in a room, full of armed ponies. He didn’t have a weapon himself, but if he were desperate he could use one of the unicorns’ pistols. And even if he was somehow able to take a gun from one of the others and avoid being shot, he’d still be outnumbered. He was in an enclosed space with one known exit, so flying away wasn’t feasible, either. His only option, at this point, was to cooperate.

That left him two options: say he could fly a cargo shuttle, or say he couldn’t.

Technically, his training with the hippogriff navy had covered generic spacecraft piloting as well as aircraft, and some of the principles were similar. He was sure that, with practice, he could fly a shuttle with some competence. However, he needed to get out of this situation as fast as possible. If he told these ponies that he could fly, they would definitely force him to pilot their shuttle for them, to destinations unknown. If not, they could conceivably leave him behind under guard, at which point he would have a much better chance of escaping. That’s how he survived in Appleloosa; laying low, waiting for the possibility of escape to present itself, then taking it.

“No, I can’t.”

The stallion stomped and cursed again. “Fuck!” He rounded on the other ponies in the hangar. “I know for a fact none of you other shitsacks are pilots, but I’m not looking for formal training here. Anyone fly their uncle’s crop duster? Or play one of those flight-simulator games?”

One of the other ponies in the back, a younger pegasus, hesitantly raised a hoof.

“Awesome! Great! Get in the cockpit and start reading the fucking manual. You!” He pointed a hoof at the forklift driver who had dropped the crate. “Grab the hippogriff’s crate, and don’t fuck it up this time. Everyone else, get that cannon loaded. And you,” he said, addressing Azure this time, “You’re coming with me. Can’t have you running off and snitching, now.”

Azure remained outwardly calm, moving smoothly and deliberately, as he was led up into the rear shuttle at gunpoint. The leader guided him past the stacks of crates, currently being strapped down by the other workers, to a small door at the fore end of the cargo bay. The open door led into the cockpit, where Azure was instructed to sit in a jump seat behind the pilot’s seat. The grey pony took the seat behind the copilot’s seat, at a navigator’s station. Azure could see that the brown pegasus who had volunteered to pilot the shuttle was sitting in the pilot’s seat, frantically flipping through a thick manual.

“I’ll handle the radio,” the leader said to him. “You just focus on not killing us all.”

The leader then began talking into a shoulder-mounted walkie-talkie, communicating with the other workers and verifying statuses. Through the cockpit glass, Azure watched about a dozen of the armed ponies line up with the discipline of trained soldiers and march up the ramp of the shuttle ahead. Once they were all inside, the cargo ramp was closed and the two main hangar doors were slid open, and the twin kinetic thrusters began to glow blue as they flared to life.

The pony across from him kept his gun trained on Azure the entire time, but he could see that his attention wasn’t terribly focused on his prisoner, being split between the radio and the pilot. In addition, Azure suspected that the pony wouldn’t consider him a threat once they were in the air. And he would be right; attacking the driver of a vehicle while one was riding it was an incredibly foolish move.

Since the leader’s attention was split, Azure began looking around the cockpit, taking in as much information as he could. He saw the impromptu pilot nervously working his way through the pre-flight checks; this was taking quite a long time, since he had to search for each switch and gauge.

Azure’s eyes then scanned the controls he could see at the copilot’s seat, comparing their positions and functions to what he knew from his experience with the Sky Stinger. Everything was clearly labeled, and their positions were at least logical, if not exactly the same as in the fighter. There were extra controls which he assumed were for orbital flight, but the main atmospheric controls would be simple enough to adapt to.

Soon, the shuttle ahead of them pulled out of the hangar and onto the apron. Azure estimated that the two shuttles should be able to get a departure slot easily, since he noticed earlier that the spaceport hadn’t been very busy. His estimation proved to be correct as the front shuttle made its way almost directly towards the runway, out of sight.

The pony across from him began making calls over the radio, coordinating their departure with air traffic control.

“Clearance, Equestrian Shuttle Logistics 452 to LEO.”

Azure could hear the controller’s response through the cockpit speakers.

“ESL 452 cleared to LEO via warehouse 17 departure, flight plan route, depart runway 9 right, squawk 0544.”

“ESL 452 cleared to LEO, hangar 17, flight plan route, 0544.”

“ESL 452 readback correct, contact ground on 1-2-2 decimal 0-7 for pushback.”

“ESL 452, one two two zero seven for pushback.”

He adjusted the radio and spoke again.

“Ground, Equestrian Shuttle Logistics, 452 ready for pushback.”

“ESL 452 push at your discretion, call ready for taxi.”

“Roger.”

Their pilot carefully throttled the engines up and pulled the shuttle out of the hangar and onto the tarmac, where he stopped and nodded back to the pony on the radio.

“Ground, ESL 452 ready for taxi.”

“ESL 452 roger, taxi on Delta for runway 09 right.”

“ESL 452, Delta for 9 right.”

Upon hearing this, the pilot throttled the engines again and steered the shuttle across the tarmac, towards the nearest runway.

“ESL 452, contact tower on 1-1-8 decimal 3-5.”

“ESL 452, tower on one one eight three five.”

Again, the leader adjusted the radio.

“Tower, Equestrian Shuttle Logistics 452 on Delta for 9 right.”

“ESL 452, continue on Delta, hold short of 9 right.”

“ESL 452, Delta, hold short of 9 right.”

Upon reaching the very edge of the runway, the pilot stopped the shuttle again.

“ESL 452, taxi into position runway 9 right.”

“ESL 452, roger into position.”

The pilot pushed the shuttle forward onto the runway proper, turning it to the right so that it was lined up with the center of the runway, then stopped again.

“ESL 452 clear for takeoff on runway 9 right, contact departure at 1-2-8 decimal 8 in the air.”

“ESL 452 clear to go, one two eight eight in the air.”

Azure watched as the inexperienced pilot slowly throttled the engines up, and felt the gees push his back into the seat as the craft accelerated down the runway. He grasped the yoke tightly in his hooves and pulled gently backwards, but the lumbering craft refused to pull up. He pulled harder, gritting his teeth as the shuttle continued to gain speed. Finally, about three-quarters of the way down the runway, Azure felt the shuttle lethargically heave itself off the concrete. The pilot immediately retracted the gear and flaps for cruising flight, then banked and turned to the appropriate departure heading.

Overall, his performance had been admirable for someone who had apparently never flown a real aircraft before. Azure had to fight the urge to congratulate him, since he was one of his captors, after all.

The leader continued to speak on the radio as the shuttle ascended. The pilot kept straining on the yoke, desperately trying to gain altitude.

Azure looked out the cockpit windows and saw the mountains to the east of Vanhoover looming directly ahead of them. He knew that orbit-bound shuttles were required to crest these mountains, but they would always have enough altitude to clear them easily. This shuttle, on the other hand, was struggling to gain altitude and was bearing directly towards the peaks.

He could hear the departure controller urging the shuttle to gain altitude over the radio.

“C’mon kid, pull up!” the leader shouted.

“I’m trying!” the pilot shouted back through gritted teeth, the muscles on his forelegs quivering as he strained to lift the craft higher.

Azure’s eyes instantly flew over the gauges and multi-functional displays, trying to figure out why the shuttle wasn’t gaining altitude. Gear was up, flaps were up, airbrakes were retracted…then he saw it. Most shuttles were equipped with systems to detect when the craft moved from atmospheric to non-atmospheric flight, and automatically transition from using the control surfaces to using the attitude thrusters. There was also a manual override in case the sensors failed, since the control surfaces were useless in space and vice versa.

Somehow the override switch had been flipped so that the shuttle was trying to use its attitude thrusters to pitch up which, while possible, was much weaker than the elevators. There was no way they’d be able to pitch the shuttle up enough to avoid smashing into the mountains.

As the slopes drew closer, Azure acted. He unbuckled himself from the jump seat, eliciting a ‘what do you think you’re doing’ from the pony with the gun. He leapt across to the copilot’s seat, flipped the override switch back to AUTO, gunned the throttle, and immediately yanked the yoke backwards. The shuttle’s nose quickly elevated as the computer returned control authority to the elevators, filling his view with cloudy skies above the mountains. He gritted his teeth and watched the altimeter climb, praying that they would reach four thousand meters before they smashed into the mountains.

Three thousand two hundred meters.

Three thousand three hundred.

Three thousand four hundred.

An alarm followed by an automated voice started to sound in the cockpit.

Terrain. Terrain. Pull up!

Three thousand six hundred.

Pull up!

Three thousand seven hundred.

Pull up!

Three thousand eight hundred.

“I am pulling up, you stupid…!”

Pull up!

Three thousand nine hundred.

Terrain. Terr—

The alarm stopped.

Azure took one last look at the altimeter. Four thousand two hundred meters. He pitched the shuttle back down to a more reasonable ascent path and throttled the engines back. At the sound of quiet chuckling, he looked around the cockpit.

The young pegasus in the pilot’s seat was staring at him with wide eyes. Behind him, the earth pony had a smug grin on his face.

“Well, aren’t you just full of surprises, flyboy,” he said.

Azure tried to keep his expression neutral. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Nah, I saw that look in your eyes. You hopped into that seat like you were born in it. Let me guess: navy pilot?”

It was obvious the pony wasn’t going to believe any of Azure’s excuses, so he just nodded slowly.

“Alright, here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re going to get us to LEO, and then you’re going to do exactly what I say. Got it?”

Once again, Azure considered his options. It was highly likely that the pony behind him would keep his gun pressed against the seat back, earning him a bullet in the spine should he try anything untoward. And the pegasus had proven himself to be at least a competent pilot, so Azure wasn’t essential to get the shuttle to wherever they were going. For now, the opportunity for escape hadn’t come yet, so once again he decided to play along.

“Where are we going?”

“Just fly the damn shuttle. You’ll find out soon enough.”

The rest of the trip to orbit was uneventful, and within half an hour Azure had placed the shuttle in the altitude band designated as “Low Equus Orbit.” From here, shuttles would normally tune to the orbital control frequency and follow their flight plan to wherever they were headed. But when the grey pony behind him began speaking over the radio, it was obvious that he had other plans.

“Blackwater checking in. Shuttle twenty-two now in orbit, awaiting TLT on your go.”

The irritated response came not long after. “It’s about time. All ships, energize and prepare for TLT jump. Shuttle one, jump in T-minus thirty seconds and immediately head for the staging checkpoint. All other ships jump in numerical order, spacing sixty seconds.”

A multitude of affirmative responses sounded over the radio, undoubtedly belonging to the other shuttles.

The pony sitting behind him, Blackwater he assumed, got Azure’s attention with another order. “Power up the teleportation crystal and get ready to teleport to the lunar beacon on my mark.”

Azure did as instructed, and heard the low-frequency hum from behind him as the magical crystal energized. He put his talons back on the controls, clutching them nervously as he pondered how difficult his situation was quickly becoming. Going to space was bad enough, but the moon? And why were so many shuttles, theoretically also with weapons onboard, heading to the moon in the first place? There was only one major settlement there that he knew of, and it was just a hub for shipments of raw materials; hardly a military target.

Azure ran the numbers in his head. Twenty-two shuttles, and if each one had a dozen soldiers loaded, that made over two hundred and fifty heavily armed ponies. He didn’t know how large the lunar settlements were, but he could reasonably assume they didn’t have many guns to fight back with; in his experience, ponies generally eschewed weaponry. They didn’t stand a chance.

After a tense wait, Blackwater ordered him to engage the teleportation crystal. With a crackle and flash of light, the shuttle was now hundreds of thousands kilometers away, floating above the moon’s surface. With guidance from the shuttle’s computer, he steered the shuttle to the recovery vector and boosted them into a stable orbit.

***

After the hippogriff had placed them into a lunar orbit, Blackwater opened up the encrypted communications channel the shuttles were using.

“Shuttle twenty-two, TLT complete. Awaiting orders.”

Syzygy’s response came quickly. “All shuttles, proceed to Starshine checkpoint. Shuttle three, shut down the beacon and lunar comms.”

Blackwater tapped on the headrest in front of him to get the hippogriff’s attention. “Alright, you see that waypoint on the MFD? Head there, no detours. And watch out for other shuttles.”

“Copy,” he responded, his expression inscrutable. That’s what Blackwater liked about the guy; he had an excellent poker face, which was part of the reason he suspected him to be a pilot.

A few minutes later, the voice of a young mare came over the channel. “Attack successful. TLT beacon and all lunar communications are offline.”

Blackwater recognized the voice. She was some kind of programming prodigy, and could hack into just about any computer system. He didn’t know the mare’s name, but he had seen her a few times. She was pretty cute; maybe after all this was over he’d ask her out.

It wasn’t long until the sprawling lights of Starshine City appeared on the horizon. He could even make out the large circular track of the city’s mass driver, a huge electromagnetic catapult that flung cargo back to Equus. He had seen the transponder markers of the other ships on the navigational display for a while, but now the blue pinpricks of light from their engines could be seen as they all slowed for landing.

As they passed over the station’s solar array, dozens of square kilometers of glittering blue solar panels, Blackwater instructed the pilot on where to go, which mostly involved following the line of other shuttles towards a hangar on the southern edge of the city. Blackwater had been skeptical that any building would have enough space to hold all two dozen of their shuttles, but Syzygy had assured him that there would be, and he trusted his judgement.

The city stretched out ahead of them, dozens and dozens of buildings interconnected with tunnels, bridges, and skyways. Blackwater had never been there in person, but he had studied its layout extensively. The gleaming white structures formed an orderly radial pattern, with the residential areas at the center and the industrial sections around the outer edges. The city was mostly a transit hub, serving as a distribution point for the various mining and manufacturing operations all over the moon’s surface. He could see factory complexes outside the city, connected with pressurized trains to allow ponies to commute.

One by one, the shuttles ahead of them descended to a few meters above the lunar surface and flew towards a spaceport at the southern edge of the city. The hippogriff pilot fell in behind them as they made for a hangar that looked far too small from this distance. But as they approached, the hangar grew larger, and larger still, until it took up most of the view outside the cockpit windows. The shuttles ahead of them easily slid through the open doors and landed in a neat row on the inside, and the hippogriff joined the pattern by gently setting the shuttle down and shutting off the engines.

The radio crackled with Syzygy’s voice again. “All shuttles. Hangar is sealed and pressurized. Dismount and prepare for assault.”

“Showtime, flyboy!” He cracked a smile and clapped the hippogriff on the shoulder. “Into the back. No sudden moves.”

The hippogriff slowly unbuckled himself and made his way through the door into the cargo hold. Blackwater followed, keeping his carbine trained on his back the whole time.

“Alright, fucksticks!” Blackwater shouted to the mercenaries gathered in the hold. “Gear up, and move out!”

Almost in unison they all stood, gathered their gear, and headed down the ramp. Blackwater prodded his prisoner to follow them down to the hangar floor. Most of the mercenaries proceeded to where a large group from the other shuttles was gathering, while a few stayed behind; their job was to help unload and assemble the defense cannons.

Blackwater turned to the pegasus behind him, whose piloting skills had almost sent them into the side of a mountain. He didn’t know the kid’s name, and didn’t particularly care.

“Hey, you. Grab some cuffs from one of the other guys. I don’t want this hippogriff getting in our way.”

The young stallion quickly obeyed, and returned in short order with a pair of hoofcuffs. As he put them around the hippogriff’s wrists, Blackwater turned to the half-dozen ponies who stayed with the shuttle.

“Keep an eye on this one, and don’t let him get any ideas. If he makes trouble, shoot him.”

When they nodded in understanding, Blackwater made his way towards the group gathering in front of the center shuttle. He looked around the cavernous hangar and could see several passenger spacecraft parked around, as well as a large overhead crane. He guessed that this was a factory that made ships, and a large door in the opposite wall would probably lead to the main assembly area.

As he approached the front of the group, he could see Syzygy standing there, arguing with a hoof-ful of other ponies, most likely employees of the factory. The argument came to a head as Syzygy drew his pistol and shot his opponent in the face. His companions gaped in horror at the body for a moment, before screaming and running in the opposite direction. A chorus of chuckles bubbled through the gathered mercenaries.

“Gentlecolts!” Syzygy announced once Blackwater had joined him. “Today, we take back the moon. This is the day you’ve been waiting for. The day you’ve been training for. The day you’ve been praying for. If they surrender, leave them be. If they resist, send them to the spirits. You all know your objectives. Make Luna proud!”

With a wordless battle cry, the mob split into squads and surged forward. Blackwater located his squad and joined them as they plunged towards the heart of the city.

***

Hex Key grasped the wrench handle in his hooves and took a few preparatory breaths.

“Okay, last one. Three, two, one…hrrk!”

He heaved against the handle, pulling on it with all his might. His muscles burned, but a steely determination kept him going. That, and an array of steadily-worsening curses uttered through gritted teeth.

“Come on, you pile of scrap metal…rusty bucket of shit…”

His wings tried to splay out with the effort but were stopped short by the confines of the corridor.

“Celestia…curse…you…you motherfucking piece of—”

Click.

Hex released the pressure on his torque wrench as its internal mechanism signaled that he had sufficiently tightened the offending bolt. Panting, he pulled the wrench free and slipped it into the tool holder across his back. He wiped the sweat from his brow and turned to make his way back to the maintenance bay of Engineering Section.

The air was always hot near the traction motors. He might not know as much as the eggheads who designed this place, but he knew enough to know that heat was the enemy of any spacecraft, and removing it was difficult. So he couldn’t fault them too much if the environmental controls couldn’t quite keep up with the energy dissipated by the massive motors that kept Maulwurf trundling along the lunar surface.

However, that did not excuse the location of some of the bolts that he had to get to just to replace a coolant manifold. Trying to coax four hundred newton-meters out of a torque wrench in such a tight space was almost impossible.

“If I ever get my hooves on the engineer who designed that…” he grumbled. He took a quick detour to the local access point and approached the control cabinet. He pulled a key out of his tool belt and used it to remove the padlock hanging from a large red lever.

Hex flipped the lever with a satisfying clunk, and his ears swiveled to take in the sound of distant pumps spooling up. He kept an eye on the gauges as the pressure built; if the manifold he just replaced had any problems, he would see it here. Pressure was good across the board and all lights were green, so he closed the control cabinet and continued towards the maintenance bay.

Maulwurf began construction before the lunar surface factories were up and running, so most of the materials used in its initial construction had to be delivered from planetside facilities. As a result, its designers sought to use the space as efficiently as possible, and that meant making the corridors and rooms in the bowels of the station very small, with low ceilings. Sections that were added later, such as Medical and Control, did not have this restriction, as they were built after the cost of acquiring materials on the moon’s surface plummeted with the completion of the first lunar factories. Most of the staff did not have to suffer the submarine-like innards of the station, but the less glamorous maintenance staff did. Two ponies could just barely pass in a corridor, if one wedged herself against the wall. Passing through a doorway, however, was impossible; one pony would have to wait while the other passed.

Hex had been through these corridors so many times he could find his way with his eyes closed. He knew just about every turn and alcove, and could name every duct and conduit. Hex thought back to when the elderly foreman had taken him under his wing (figuratively speaking; the foreman was an earth pony).

“Most ponies don’t realize it, but Maulwurf has a personality. All machines do,” the foreman had said. “With a little effort, you can feel her heartbeat; from the sounds of the machinery in her walls, to the vibrations in her deck plates.”

Hex Key had come to understand the immense station. There were always little idiosyncrasies in her operation, like the fact that even after two full rebuilds, traction motor six needed just a little more amperage to meet the necessary torque output. And how the main breakers that controlled the corridor lighting behaved strangely in the morning, in a manner Hex could only describe as ‘cranky’.

Sure, he’d curse Maulwurf’s engineers and swear at her bolts, but it was all out of affection. He’d always make sure to give the bearings a bit more grease every month, polish the linear rails to a mirror shine, and dig every chunk of regolith out of the chain drums. If you treated her right, she’d keep running long after her builders had passed their tools to the next generation.

“Got that manifold swapped out?” The foreman asked when he returned to check in his tools.

“Yeah-huh,” he replied absently. “Clock me out, would ya Grease Stain?”

Grease Stain wasn’t his real name; he said he got the nickname after he earned his cutie mark while working in his dad’s mechanic shop, but didn’t notice until he got home because his flanks were covered with giant grease stains from sitting on the floor.

“Sure thing. You’ve been putting in a lot of overtime lately. I do appreciate what you been doing here, Hex.”

Hex Key gave a weary smile. “I just do what needs doing.”

“Got any plans tonight?”

“Nah. I’m going home for a shower, and then I’ll maybe hit up Haven’s for a nightcap.”

“Don’t go spending all that time-and-a-half pay in one place, now.”

Hex chuckled. Even if he wanted to, there wasn’t much to spend money on here. Room and board were free; the only thing one really needed to pay for was food, and luxuries like the station’s small theater. Even if the pay down in Engineering Section wasn’t very good, Hex was still making more money than he would be planetside.

“Still got eyes for that beauty in Control Section?”

“Huh?”

Grease Stain’s face took on a crooked grin. “Don’t play dumb with me, boy. I seen how you look at her.”

The old machinist was incredibly observant and sharp as a tack, even at his age. He was referring to Hex’s crush on Piper, a mare who spent her days in Maulwurf’s traffic control tower. He hadn’t managed to drum up the courage to ask her out yet.

There were a couple of reasons for this: the griffin’s share of his trepidation came down to simple nerves. He hadn’t been in a relationship for…almost five years now, and he wasn’t sure if he knew how anymore. Dating as an adult was very different from a college fling.

The second reason came as his father’s words echoing in the back of his mind: “Don’t shit where you eat.” He had been rather coarsely warning against pursuing relationships at work, considering that if something went afoul, one would have to still endure their company for eight hours a day. This argument was somewhat tempered by the fact that the two of them worked just about as far away from each other as it was possible to be. Hex only really saw her in the Atrium, and that was assuming they happened to take lunch at the same time. Besides, he knew that ponies hooked up all the time out here. Spending six months without sunlight in a metal can hundreds of kilometers from civilization drove ponies to blow off steam however they could.

Hex’s room in Hab Section was small; all the living spaces on Maulwurf were small, with the possible exception of corporate staff and the like. Despite being the size of an aircraft carrier, quarters for 4,000 ponies took up a lot of room. Hex didn’t mind it so much. LMC had given a hard limit on how much of his personal belongings he could bring, so there wasn’t much in his room to take up the already limited space. He dumped his empty tool belt on the floor, then grabbed a towel from his wardrobe and the mesh bag with his bathing supplies and headed down the hall to the showers. It would have been an egregious waste of space for every room to have its own washroom, so each dormitory corridor ended in a shared restroom/shower space shared by about a dozen ponies.

After getting his coat cleaned, his mane brushed, and his wings preened, Hex headed towards the Atrium. This is where the cafeteria and theater were located, along with other leisure areas for employees to spend their money and maintain morale. One of these areas was a small bar called Haven’s, named for its proprietor Safe Haven. Hex walked in and immediately felt relaxed. The dim lighting, the low music, the snap of billiard balls from the lone pool table. This was one of the first places on the station he had begun to visit regularly, and he had made friends with many of the other regulars.

Safe Haven waved to him from behind the bar as he entered. “Hey, Hex! Come over here, I got somethin’ for ya to try!”

Safe Haven used to own a restaurant in downtown Manehattan, but sold it to work on the moon instead because it paid better. In his words, ‘I ain’t doin’ in for the money…I’m doin’ it fer a shitload o’ money!’

Haven was always experimenting with new ways to prepare certain foods, mostly by deep-frying them.

“This isn’t deep-fried butter on a stick again, is it?” Hex asked cautiously as he walked over to the bar.

“Nah, not this time.” Haven pushed a plate towards him, bearing a donut with a crunchy-looking exterior. “It’s a deep-fried donut!”

“Aren’t donuts already deep-fried?”

“Sure, but I deep-fried this one twice!”

Hex shrugged and took a bite. It tasted like a normal donut, yet…greasier.

“So? What’s it like?”

“It tastes like…double bypass surgery.”

“Shit, that’s genius! I’ll name it the ‘Double Bypass Donut’! Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to send ya royalty checks!”

Hex heard a laugh from behind him, followed by a familiar voice.

“Hex, is Haven here trying to max out your cholesterol intake again?”

Hex turned to see a bespectacled zebra making her way towards the bar, a grin pasted across her face.

“Hey, Zuri!” Hex greeted the zebra, exchanging hoofbumps with her. Zuri was one of Hex’s first friends on the Maulwurf, close in interests yet far apart in capability; she was a reactor technician, responsible for keeping the twin fusion reactors that powered the massive station running smoothly. She was smart, and young, too, even younger than he was. She was also quite attractive; if it weren’t for the fact she was gay, Hex would have asked her out a long time ago.

“Haven’t seen you around lately. Old Grease Stain been cracking the whip?”

“Not exactly, but I have been putting in some overtime recently. It seems like whenever there’s a less-than-glamorous job that needs doing, the other maintenance techs are mysteriously nowhere to be found.”

They each ordered a drink from Safe Haven and found a place to sit down.

“Plus, it helps that I know my way around the traction motors better than anypony there, but come on! I’d like to go a single month without getting saddled with lubrication duty.”

Zuri laughed. “I envy you sometimes, Hex, but at the same time I don’t think I could do what you do.”

“What do you mean?”

“I spend my whole day staring at monitors, making sure the reactors are maintaining output. I don’t even have to adjust injection rates or field strength or anything, the computers take care of all that automatically!”

Hex just nodded. He understood some of those words, but most of it went over his head.

“Seriously, the only time I even picked up a tool this week was to swap out a quartz lens on a chamber camera. What did I even go to college for, if I never even use the stuff I learned?”

“Yeah, I could ask you that myself,” Hex quipped as a jab at his friend. Hex had never gone to college, instead bouncing around several different maintenance jobs. He always seemed to find himself employed by ponies a lot smarter than him, yet unwilling to get their hooves dirty fixing their own machinery. Still, the experience fixing really large and expensive machines had worked to his advantage getting a job aboard the Maulwurf.

They sat and enjoyed their drinks for a while longer, chatting and catching up, when Zuri poked her head outside the booth. “Hey, it’s that mare again.”

Hex Key twisted around to see who she was talking about. All he saw was a middle-aged unicorn mare with a pink coat and a straw-colored mane. She was standing in the bar’s entrance, looking around curiously, with one of the station’s doctors next to her. She didn’t look familiar, and judging by her behavior she was a newcomer to the station.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

“What, you haven’t heard?” Zuri asked incredulously. “Have you been living under a rock?”

“Something like that.”

“A few days ago, she was found in one of the ground-level airlocks, dying from vacuum exposure. After they got her patched up, they found out she disappeared a hundred a fifty years ago!”

“No fuckin’ way,” he said. Zuri liked to joke around sometimes, but her expression led Hex to believe that she wasn’t kidding this time.

“It’s true! I saw her earlier today in the reactor room. Sigma was giving her a tour.” Zuri leaned out and waved a hoof, catching the mare’s attention. “Hey! Over here!”

The mare noticed them and smiled as she trotted over. Hex and Zuri scooted over to make room for the pair as they sat down.

“Hello again!” Zuri said brightly. “I’m Zuri, and this is Hex Key.”

The mare looked confused for a moment, before realization dawned on her face. “Oh! You’re the zebra I saw by the fusion reactor!”

“Yep! I didn’t expect to meet you here, but I’m glad I did.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re all anypony is talking about! A mysterious mare, lost for a century and a half before suddenly appearing in the middle of nowhere? You’ve lucky I got to you first!”

The mare ducked her head sheepishly. “Well, I’m not really anypony special…”

“What’s your name?” Zuri asked.

“Oh! Sorry. I’m Spring Bloom, and this is Dr. Needle Prick,” she replied, motioning across the table to the doctor.

He smiled politely. “Just call me Needle.”

“So what brings you to our little watering hole?” Hex Key asked.

“Well, Dr. Needle here is showing me around the station, and it gave me the opportunity to eat something besides hospital food.”

Zuri grimaced. “I don’t blame you. We might be hundreds of kilometers from the ass-end of nowhere, but there’s some good food here. Unless you want something dripping in grease, though, I suggest you look elsewhere.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Safe Haven isn’t exactly a culinary mastermind.”

“I heard that!” the bartender shouted.

Spring giggled. “No, we already ate at Hayburger. I saw this place and decided to check it out.”

Hex smiled. “Well, Haven might not be good at cooking, but he’s the best bartender on the moon. Hey Haven!” he called over his shoulder. “Two Moondrops, please!”

“Ooh, I like the sound of that,” Spring said. “I’d pay you back, but I don’t have any money right now.”

Hex waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. My treat.”

“So, Hex Key, I’ve seen you around Medical Section a few times, mostly scrapes and bumps. You work in the maintenance areas, right?”

“Yeah, I do. I mostly maintain the traction motors and the caterpillar tracks. It’s hard, dirty work, but I like it.”

“You can do that while it’s moving?”

“Sure. If you need to swap out a motor, for example, you can shut it down and the others will pick up the slack. There’s a trick to pulling it out and re-mounting it, but it’s definitely possible. EVA work is my favorite, though. I’ve stood on the caterpillar tracks and swapped track shoes while being carried along like I’m on a conveyor belt. It’s fun.”

Safe Haven arrived at their table and placed the ordered drinks in front of Needle and Spring. The Moondrop was one of Haven’s signature drinks, and one whose recipe was a closely guarded secret. Inside a whiskey tumbler was a perfectly round, milky white orb, suspended within a translucent blue liquid. Spring was enthralled as she gently slid her glass closer, as if the drink would evaporate with too-rough handling.

Despite her efforts, the orb popped like a soap bubble, eliciting a surprised “Oh!”. The milky liquid swirled and mixed with the surrounding alcohol, the emulsion eventually homogenizing to an opaque cyan.

“Don’t worry, it’s supposed to do that,” Zuri said. “Haven likes to see who can keep their bubble intact the longest. I think the record is four minutes.”

“Three minutes and forty-two seconds,” came a response from behind the bar.

“Wow…” Spring gazed at the drink in awe, before taking a sip. “Huh. It tastes like raspberry and cream and…coconut?”

Zuri shrugged. “Nopony knows what’s in it for sure; Haven won’t tell. But it almost seems like everyone tastes something different.”

Spring took another sip. “By the way, Zuri, why are you the only zebra I’ve seen here? In fact, I don’t think I’ve seen any creature besides ponies on the moon yet.”

“There’s a couple reasons,” Zuri replied. “Equestria kind of has a monopoly on space travel. All the major spaceports are in Equestria, aside from Xenith, so it’s hard for other races to take casual trips.”

Dr. Needle nodded. “And since Equestria already has so much space infrastructure, no one else has bothered to build any since they can just use Equestria’s if they need to.”

“You’ll find more diversity in Starshine City,” Zuri continued. “It’s still mostly ponies, but there’s zebras, hippogriffs, and I think I even saw a dragon there once.”

Spring looked tired all of a sudden. “The city sounds nice, but I just want to go home. I think I’ve had enough of the moon for one lifetime.”

***

Piper had become quite attuned to the soft ding of the elevator from Control Section arriving, signaling that she needed to pretend like she hadn’t just been daydreaming and spinning circles in her chair. A sound she wasn’t used to hearing, however, was an alarm accompanied by a flashing alert from the communications panel. She wheeled her chair over to it and read the flashing red message:

SATELLITE SIGNAL LOST

“What the fu—” Ding!

The elevator doors barely had time to open before Rosette marched through, and she was angry.

“Let me see your comms panel,” she said.

Piper backed up to let her see. “I just got an alert that we lost the satellite connection.”

“So did we. Total comms blackout, no messages in or out from Starshine, or from Equus. We’re completely blind!”

Piper decided to stay silent. It was unusual for Rosette to lose her temper like this, and she didn’t want to say something that would accidentally rouse her ire.

Rosette took a deep breath. “Mark my words, someone’s head is going to roll for this. Nopony fucks with my station.”

“I can still handle local shuttle traffic,” Piper said, attempting to placate her with some good news. “Just the satellite connections are down. Local broadcasts are unaffected.”

Rosette took another breath and smiled, which was somehow more terrifying. “Thank you, my dear. Do what you can here, I’m going to try and find out who needs to be flushed out an airlock.”

After Rosette had swept out of the room, Piper busied herself with trying to find out what exactly went wrong with Maulwurf’s connection to the lunar satellite network. She knew how to poke around in the comms panel a little bit, since sometimes there was a hiccup in the uplink, and she would need to swap to another satellite to maintain a more stable connection. Due to the spacing of the satellites, there were always at least six in range to connect to. Piper tried executing the command to switch uplink priority to another satellite, but got another error: CONNECTION FAILED.

“Odd.”

In an emergency, the Maulwurf could connect directly to an Equus ground station. Unfortunately, this was impossible at the moment due to the station being on the dark side of the moon, forcing the station to rely on the satellite network to relay the signals. Piper dove a little deeper into the communications controls, to a little-used diagnostic tool. After running for a few minutes, the computer happily reported that the Maulwurf’s satellite uplink was functioning just fine. The problem, it seemed, was that the entire lunar satellite network was down. The station couldn’t connect to the satellites because the satellites were offline.

Piper tapped at another screen, sending a message over the station’s internal network to Rosette’s tablet. Within minutes, the elevator dinged again.

“Yes? What did you find?” Rosette asked as she approached.

“I ran a network diagnostic on our external connections. Maulwurf’s equipment is functioning just fine. It’s the satellites that are down.”

Rosette blinked. “All of them?”

“As far as I can tell. I tried swapping to another satellite and the connection failed, but there’s only six or seven visible at a time. I’d have to wait until the other satellites come over the horizon to make certain.”

“How long will that take?”

“Each satellite takes three hours to make a full orbit, so about that long.”

Rosette nodded. “You do that, and keep an eye out for any approaching ships.”

With that, she turned and left, leaving Piper alone with the static in her headset.

***

Starshine City fell quickly. There was panic, of course, but herding the citizens into the residential blocks and sealing the doors was easy when one gave the proper motivation. Since the city was in night mode, most of the citizens were in their quarters anyway. Blackwater would have preferred to simply vent the atmosphere, but Syzygy wouldn’t allow it. “Let Luna sort them out,” he had said. Blackwater wasn’t sure how much of this ‘trapped goddess’ business he really believed, but he knew that Syzygy’s money kept coming, so he didn’t ask questions. He didn’t really care as long as he got to shoot someone, which was why he joined the Equestrian military in the first place. He was far too late for the last war, unfortunately, and it didn’t look like they were going to find themselves in another one anytime soon. All that ‘peace and love’ horseshit that they were preaching now is what got him discharged.

He still got the chance to take out a few ponies who tried to play hero, coming at his squad with pipes, fire extinguishers, and all manner of other improvised weapons. Those were fun, because putting them down made anypony else who happened to be nearby much more agreeable.

After Blackwater’s squad had finished locking down their assigned sectors, he led them back to the rendezvous point, a large atrium near one of the residential areas. Some of the other mercenaries had already started looting the shops and restaurants. He was contemplating how long it had been since he had last eaten when he heard Syzygy’s voice come over his radio.

“Blackwater. Meet me at the city’s main electrical control room. There may be a change of plans.”

“Copy that,” Blackwater responded, before letting out an extended sigh. He took the chance to grab some cold pizza before heading in the direction of the electrical controls.

This room handled the input and distribution of electrical power from the thousands of solar panels in the array outside the city. It was the closest analog to the city’s lifeblood; without power, there was no light, no heat, no gravity, and no air. Between rows of computer stations stood Syzygy, engaged in a tense conversation with another pony.

His glasses betrayed his profession; Syzygy had brought on several dozen engineers and technicians who were apparently loyal to the cause, and he appeared to be one of them. Blackwater took one look at the stallion and immediately wanted to put a bullet in his face. He carried himself like an arrogant prick that assumed he was better than anypony else, staring down his muzzle and belittling anyone who dared question his wisdom. It was obvious that even Syzygy’s patience was wearing thin.

“Sir?” He announced as he entered.

“Ah, Blackwater,” Syzygy smiled, grateful for the distraction. “Thank you for joining us. We have a bit of a power supply issue I need your help in resolving.”

“Which I tried to warn you about before we left,” the pony-shaped shitstain interrupted before Blackwater could respond. “But of course no one listens to me.”

“Slipstick, please,” Syzygy scolded. “Let me handle it from here.”

“I’m not sure how much help I can be with all this egghead stuff,” Blackwater said, “Unless you want me to break something.”

“Oh no, that won’t be necessary. You see, I had intended for the Armillary to tap into Starshine’s power grid. But it appears that it will not quite be up to the task.”

“Not unless you want to hold your breath,” Slipstick broke in.

The Armillary. Of course. Syzygy’s little science experiment. Blackwater wasn’t savvy to the details, being a lowly grunt, but he had overheard enough to glean its purpose. Apparently it was meant to cast a spell of some kind, intended to free Luna from her imprisonment. After which she would be eternally grateful and grant the faithful everlasting boons and strike down the unworthy and blah blah blah.

“Yes, of course,” Syzygy responded through gritted teeth. “Now, there is an LMC mining station relatively nearby. This station is equipped with two fusion reactors, providing more than enough power to supply the Armillary and keep the station running at the same time. I need you to take a squad and secure the station. I will follow with the remaining engineering and technical staff. Any questions?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Send a messenger shuttle back when the station is secure. Dismissed.”

Blackwater left the room and made his way back to the atrium, his mood improving somewhat. He gathered up enough mercenaries to fill three shuttles and pilots to fly them, and led them back to the spacecraft factory where they had landed. As they loaded up and made ready, Blackwater could see that the hippogriff pilot was nowhere to be found, along with the guards he had left him with. He stormed over to a nearby mercenary.

“Hey! Where the fuck is the prisoner?”

“They took him inside, sir. They needed to help set up the twenty-mils, so they locked him in a supply closet or something.”

In retrospect, Blackwater should have just shot him when he had the chance. Syzygy didn’t even know about the hippogriff, and right now he was just another loose end. He didn’t have the time to deal with it right now, though, so he’d just have to rely on his mercenaries to keep the hippogriff under guard until he got back.

Once the shuttles were loaded and ready, the hangar was depressurized and the doors were opened. As the trio of shuttles flew out over the lunar surface, Blackwater could see teams in EVA gear busy assembling the defense cannons. Hopefully they would deter anypony from interfering with their operation.

The other shuttles fell in formation behind his as he directed the pilot toward the Maulwurf.

Author's Note

Special thanks to Mockingbirb for pre-reading and suggested edits.

6 - Lithobrake

[CHAPTER 6 – Name?]

Access database: Project_151

SYSTEM MESSAGE: WARNING: Files in database “Project_151” have been flagged TOP SECRET. Unauthorized access will result in termination and legal action. Enter password to proceed.

***********

Loading…done.

Access file: meeting_transcript_06-07-1819.scr

Loading…done.

[Transcript Start]

[Riverbank] Ah, welcome, Princess. Please, make yourself comfortable.

[Princess Luna] Thank you, Riverbank. I hope I’m not taking up too much of your time.

[R] Not at all. What can I help you with?

[PL] I have a project for you.

[R] Oh? What kind of project?

[PL] An official Equestrian government project. The top secret kind.

[R] You had my curiosity, but now you have my attention.

[PL] I understand you’ve made some impressive advancements with your robots, correct?

[R] Absolutely. The Gamma-series protection robots have the latest SCS spell matrix processors and patented top-of-the line—

[PL] Spare me the marketing horseshit, please.

[R] …Of course.

PL Forgive me. I’ve had a…rough night. (pause) Allow me to make a quick tangent. Do you remember the war?

[R] I don’t think there’s anypony that doesn’t, aside from the children.

[PL] Fifteen years. It’s been fifteen years since that damned war and the ponies who fought in it are still suffering.

[R] I’m not sure what you—

[PL] Dreams, Riverbank. Every night I see the nightmares of hundreds of tortured soldiers. And these aren’t the whimsical, nonsensical things that I can convince them aren’t real. They’re memories. Vivid and horrible and unending, and I can’t help them. That’s what bothers me the most, Riverbank. I can’t help them. Their minds literally refuse to believe that they’re dreaming.

[R] That sounds awful, Princess, but I’m not sure how I can help.

[PL] If there is another conflict, another war like this one – I pray to the spirits that we never see such things again, but if – I want to make sure that no creature has to suffer from it ever again. I want you to…improve your robots. Make them smarter, more autonomous. In case of war, I want them to be able to fight for us.

[R] Princess…are you saying…do you want me to make them…sentient?

[PL] Sentience? No. I simply want machines that are capable of performing soldier duties just as well as a pony. Can you do that?

[R] I’m not sure. I’d have to consult with—

[PL] Yes or no, Riverbank. Can you do it, or can’t you?

[R] …Yes. I can do it.

[PL] Good. I’ll secure funding.

[Transcript End]

***

CONNECTION FAILED.

Piper made another tick mark on her tablet and sighed. “That’s the last one.”

She was about to call Rosette up to the control tower to confirm that yes, the entire lunar satellite network was offline, but she was interrupted by a chirp from the central volumetric display. She wheeled her chair over to it to see that three ships had just crossed into Maulwurf’s sensor range, flying in close formation. It wasn’t unusual for ships to fly this way, but she had never seen it out here, mostly because there was no need for that many ships to come or go at once. The shuttles’ transponders had them listed as ESL014, ESL015, and ESL016, but there were no such vessels on her list of flight plans.

Since the satellite network was down, Piper knew that they wouldn’t have contact with Moon Surface Control, so they’d have no idea which frequency to use to talk with the Maulwurf. She set up the radio to send out a broad-frequency hail.

“ESL vessels, please contact Maulwurf tower on one-two-one-decimal-five.”

She listened closely on her headset for the shuttle pilots’ response, but none came. They continued flying straight towards the station.

“ESL vessels, you are approaching restricted flyspace. Please contact Maulwurf tower on one-two-one-decimal-five or divert your course.”

There was no response, and no diversion from the ships. She hailed them again with a more forceful message.

“Unkown vessels! You are trespassing in restricted LMC flyspace with an unregistered flight plan. Divert your course immediately or you will be in violation of Equestrian spaceflight regulations!”

The ships still did not respond or change course at all. Now Piper was getting concerned. She sent another message to Rosette, who arrived shortly.

“Yes? What is it?”

“First of all, I finished trying to connect to the communications satellites, and it confirms what I suspected: the entire network is down. But that’s not why I called you.”

Rosette seemed to sense Piper’s unease and frowned curiously. “Oh?”

Piper motioned to the volumetric display. “There are three unregistered ships approaching the station. I’ve sent broad-frequency hails asking them to open communications or divert course, but they aren’t responding.”

Rosette said nothing at first, peering out the windows at the slowly-brightening blue dot on the horizon.

“What kind of vessels are they?” she said.

“Transponders identify them as long-range cargo shuttles, small civilian models.”

“Keep an eye on their course. If they try to land, contact Pad Control and lock down the landing pad airlocks. I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

Once Rosette had left, Piper did as instructed. She watched the shuttles as they grew closer, the single blue dot resolving into three. The light from their engines flared as the shuttles slowed down, and they moved to position themselves above the landing pads.

Piper’s heart leapt into her throat as she sent an urgent call to Pad Control.

“This is Pad Control.”

“Lock down all landing pad elevators and airlocks, now! Orders from the director!”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it! These shuttles are trespassing and will not respond to hails. Don’t let them in!”

“Okay, okay, keep your horseshoes on. There, landing pads one through four, and airlocks A5 and A6 are locked down. Will you please explain what’s going on?”

Right at that moment, Piper’s console lit up with a message from Rosette’s office.

“Sorry, no time. Talk to Rosette.”

She closed the channel with Pad Control without giving them a chance to respond, and opened Rosette’s call.

“Yes?”

“Come down to the control room.”

“Uh, yeah, of course.”

In the control room, Rosette and most of the Control Section personnel had their eyes glued to the central monitors at the head of the room, which had the feeds from the landing pad security cameras patched in. Plainly visible were the invading shuttles, parked on three of the landing pads. Normally the pads would serve as elevators, lowering the shuttles into a pressurized hangar, but with Rosette’s command they were not moving.

It was a good call to make, Piper realized, as she saw that some of the ponies in space suits milling around the shuttles were wielding weapons. The nervous murmurs sweeping through the group quickly turned to panicked ones as they all realized at once what was happening. The Maulwurf was under attack, and the foremost question on everypony’s lips seemed to be “Why?” To Piper, though, it made perfect sense. In any conflict, attacking the enemy’s resources was just as important, if not more so, than its troops. And if an enemy of Equestria wished to cripple its space-borne infrastructure, the moon was the perfect place to do it. Maulwurf alone supplied almost half of the raw materials going to the shipyards and factories around Starshine City. Piper suddenly realized in horror that the communications dropout probably hadn’t been a coincidence. Nopony who could provide help would know what had happened until it was too late.

In her mind, the most important question was “Who?” She wasn’t well-versed in geopolitics, but she didn’t think Equestria had that tense of a relationship with any other nations, except maybe the griffins. The last war had been with some crazy cultists, but they had been defeated…hadn’t they?

The murmurs turned to cries of alarm as the monitor showed that the soldiers were using beam saws to slice their way through one of the hull airlocks adjacent to the shuttle elevators. At the rate they were going, it would only take a few more minutes until they were through.

With a snort, Rosette turned on her hoof and made for her office. She returned wielding a pistol in her magic. Piper had no idea where she had gotten it; Maulwurf security personnel didn’t carry firearms, and getting guns onto the moon at all was extremely difficult. Before Piper could ask Rosette why she had it, the older mare cleared her throat.

“Listen up!” She commanded in a voice that made everypony drop silent and turn to look at her. Most of them were shocked upon seeing the director holding a gun, while a few were unsurprised. All of them were looking at her like a foal looks up at her mother when she’s unsure of what to do. One could have heard a pin drop.

“I don’t know who these ponies are or what they want,” she announced. “But right now they are forcefully invading a civilian station, and I’m going to do everything I can to protect its people.”

She turned to the pony nearest the console that handled internal communications. “Send out the general alarm. Abandon station.”

The control room filled with pulsing red lights as an alarm sounded over the intercom, interrupted by a pre-recorded message urging all aboard to make their way to the lifeboats in an orderly fashion.

“Anypony who wants to abandon station, please feel free to do so,” Rosette continued. She pointed to the security feed, where the soldiers had breached the outer airlock door and were working on the inner. “But I’m staying. If they take Control Section, the whole station is lost, and I’m not going down without a fight.”

A rough dozen ponies in the group cheered and began scavenging for anything they could use as weapons, while the rest started making their way toward the exit with grim expressions. Piper moved to stay with Rosette, but the older mare put a hoof on her shoulder.

“Piper, there is something I need you to do for me.”

Piper looked into her gold eyes and nodded. Rosette pointed out the exit door.

“Go with them. Keep them organized and calm. I think your talent would make you invaluable to them right now, given the circumstances.”

Piper couldn’t help craning her neck to look at her own cutie mark – a mouse and a flute.

“You can manage and organize ponies better than anyone I know…even though you frequently fall asleep at your desk,” she finished with a wink.

Piper gulped and nodded. The concern with her new responsibility overpowered the instinct to flinch at the director’s jab. She worked her way to the front of the group and began addressing them in a voice that was forceful, but not loud; commanding, but not demanding.

“Alright everypony, this way. You all know as well as I do that these corridors are a maze, and we’re all going to get to the escape pods a lot faster if we’re calm and organized. Double file behind me, and no pushing!”

***

Dr. Needle and the other ponies (and zebra) seated together in Haven’s bar in the Maulwurf’s atrium continued to chat with each other until after the station entered night mode. Since he had been off-shift since he took Spring Bloom on her tour, he wasn’t worried about getting back to Medical Section with any urgency. If anything important came up, they’d contact him directly, anyway.

It had been awhile since he’d socialized like this. Usually after his shifts he would stay late, finishing paperwork in his office, or he’d just go back to his dormitory if he wasn’t busy. He was fortunate enough to have been assigned one of the larger living quarters, complete with its own bathroom, so spending his evenings in there was actually fairly relaxing. He’d share it with someone else if he could; after seeing the quarters that most of the other staff had to put up with, he was almost embarrassed at having so much space to himself.

Spring looked up from her seat and seemed to just notice that the lights in the atrium had dimmed, and that most of the ponies milling around had left.

“Wow, what time is it?” she asked.

Hex Key twisted around to look at the clock above the bar. “About seven.”

Spring slipped out of the booth and regarded Zuri and Hex with a smile. “Well, it was very nice to meet you both, but I think I should probably head back. I hope I get the chance to—”

Without warning, the dimmed lights in the Atrium suddenly slammed back on, an angry red instead of their usual gentle white. Simultaneously, an alarm began to sound from the overhead speakers, followed by a recorded stallion’s voice.

“This is a General Alarm. Abandon station. All personnel please make your way to the nearest escape pod in an orderly fashion.”

The occupants of the booth, Needle included, looked around in alarm.

“What’s going on?” Spring asked, her voice edged with fear.

“I don’t know,” Hex Key replied. “They sometimes do General Alarm drills, but never at night, and never an Abandon Station alarm.”

Needle leaned out of the booth to look out into the Atrium, and saw that it was beginning to fill with a steadily-thickening throng of ponies, all making their way in the direction of the escape pods.

“I don’t think this is a drill,” he said.

“I didn’t know this place even had escape pods,” Zuri said, as their small group left the bar to join the herd outside, with Haven and the other patrons close behind.

“Calling them ‘escape pods’ is a little generous,” Hex explained. “They’re more like…miniature inflatable shelters, designed to support a couple dozen ponies outside the station for about a day, until help can arrive.”

“Why would we need to abandon the station at all?” Spring asked.

Hex Key frowned. “I’m not sure. There’s nothing onboard that could explode, at least not enough to endanger the whole station. There’s the possibility of a structural collapse I suppose, but if that were happening, trust me, you’d know. The only other thing I can think of is a hull breach, but we should have heard a depressurization alarm, and they haven’t told us to find emergency oxygen gear.” He shook his head. “Something about this doesn’t feel right.”

It was hard to imagine just how many ponies lived aboard the Maulwurf, but it was painfully obvious now that a significant fraction of them were all gathered in one place. The Atrium served as a central hub of sorts, and as a result most of the crew was forced to walk through it on their way to the escape pods. The crowd had grown to the point where there was little room to move around, and Needle and the others found themselves shuffled towards the large exterior windows.

He heard a muffled thump from somewhere beneath him. Somepony shouted, “Look!” and he turned to spot some motion outside the windows. Sailing away from the station was a large white mass, looking like a wad of blankets bundled into a tetrahedron. It arced gracefully for a few seconds, until at the apex of its flight its surface suddenly puffed up with large airbags. The balloons cushioned it as it impacted the lunar surface and bounced several times, staining the white bags grey with moon dust, before finally rolling to a stop. The airbags on its surface deflated, then three triangular ‘petals’ on the outside of structure unfolded, rolling it over into an orientation that Needle assumed was the right way up. The center consisted of a white dome-like structure, and the inner surface of the ‘petals’ inflated into semi-cylindrical huts that branched off from it. All in all, it made a pretty tidy little shelter, even if the launch process looks less than pleasant.

Zuri echoed his thoughts with an intake of breath through her teeth. “Ooh, I hope they were strapped in for that.”

Soon, several more thumps were heard, followed by the sight of more escape pods careening away from the station. The four of them continued to follow the crowd, occasionally hearing the launch of more pods. Needle couldn’t help thinking that this was a really inefficient way to usher the station’s crew to safety; if there were a more pressing emergency, getting all the pods launched in a timely manner would be nearly impossible.

Just as quickly as they had started, the alarms stopped and the lights returned to normal.

“What the—” Needle began to say, until he was interrupted by a voice over the intercom.

“Mares and gentlecolts, we apologize for the inconvenience, but the Mole… Mulberry… what the fuck is this place called? Maulwurf! The Maulwurf is now under new management. Please return to your quarters, and don’t try anything stupid like your former friends in the control room. All the airlocks and escape pods are sealed, and my associates will be ensuring that there’s no funny business. Oh! And I’ll be using this place’s cameras to keep an eye on you, so be good little ponies and no one has to die. Okay? Great!”

Everypony gathered in the Atrium was left reeling from the announcement. After a few seconds of stunned silence, Needle heard frightened whispers from the ponies around him.

“Control room? What’s he talking about?”

“What’s going on? Are we under attack!?”

“I don’t want to die!”

The crowd started moving around, ponies trying to push their way in multiple directions, until another voice was heard from above.

“Hey! Listen up! You are all confined to quarters.”

Needle looked up to see a group of ponies wearing tactical barding gathered behind the railing of the second-floor mezzanine. And they all had guns.

“Go back to your rooms. That is not a suggestion!” The middle one announced, horn glowing with a voice-amplification spell. One of the ponies next to him whispered something in his ear. “Please and thank you, and all that shit,” he finished.

The crowd quickly moved to comply, filtering back toward Hab Section while talking in hushed whispers. Needle suddenly found himself being swept along, and at risk of being separated from the others.

“We need to get out of here,” he heard Hex Key say from beside him.

Needle nodded. “We can all use my room. It’s big enough for the four of us—”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he interrupted. “I think I know a way to get us off this station. We need to get back to Starshine City and tell everypony what’s going on!”

“What? You can go gallivanting around and get yourself shot, but I’m—”

“Hey, what are you guys talking about?” Zuri cut in from his other side.

“I’m working on a plan to get us out of here,” Hex said.

“Really? Is it dangerous?”

“Now wait just a minute!” Needle spoke up before anyone else could break in. “I want all of us to talk about – where’s Spring?”

“Behind you,” she answered from behind him.

“Alright. We need to go somewhere and talk things out in private.”

“Follow me,” Hex Key said, and started carefully pushing his way through the crowd to one side. Needle didn’t see any other choice but to follow him, and he made sure he didn’t lose sight of Spring or Zuri as he did so. Soon they reached a side door off one corner of the Atrium, bearing a keypad lock and a sign that read, “Authorized Personnel Only.” Hex punched in the code and pushed the door open, then closed it behind him when they were all through.

The room was a small maintenance closet, stocked with tools and cleaning supplies. Toward the far end of the room, a ship’s ladder descended into the bowels of the station.

“Okay, what’s this I hear about a plan to escape?” Spring began.

“Ohh, no,” Needle warned before any of the others could butt in. “You are in no shape to be anywhere except a hospital bed. As your doctor, I strongly—”

“I feel fine, and frankly I’ve been counting the days until I can get out of here. I’m sick of the moon and I’m sick of space. You’re not going to drag me back to Medical and cuff me to the bed, are you?”

“Well no, of course I’m not—”

“Then I don’t see a problem. If anything, maybe you should come along and make sure I don’t overexert myself, hm?”

It was obvious he wasn’t going to win this argument, so he just made a frustrated sigh.

“Maybe we should put it to a vote?” Zuri suggested.

“I’d like to know a little bit more about this plan before I agree to it,” Needle said.

“I’m not going to go…what was that word you used?” said Hex.

“Gallivanting.”

“I’m not going to go ‘gallivanting’ around like you said, not with ponies with guns outside. Fortunately, you can get just about anywhere you need to go by using the maintenance tunnels.” He pointed with a blue-grey wing to the steep staircase at the back of the room. “I’m willing to bet they haven’t made it down there yet, and even if they have, I know that place like my own feathers.”

“What about the cameras?” Spring asked.

Hex gave a small smile. “Old Grease Stain didn’t like Rosette spying on us all the time, so he got one of the techs to program a loop into the cameras. They won’t see us down there.”

“Okay, great,” Needle said exasperatedly. “So what do we do once we’re down there?”

“Well, they locked out all the escape pods, but those wouldn’t be very useful for escape anyway. I don't know about you, but I’d rather not hoof it all the way to Starshine. There’s no way we’re stealing whatever ships the soldiers used to get here, either.”

Needle was growing impatient. “Could you skip to the end, please?”

“I’m getting there! There’s a little utility ship that we use to carry tools and supplies for EVA work. It’s not pressurized, so we’ll have to wear space suits the whole time, but it should have enough power to get us to the city.”

Nopony seemed to have any objections. Even Needle thought the plan had a chance of working.

“To tell the truth, it’s something I thought of less than five minutes ago,” Hex Key continued. “There are a lot of assumptions, and you know what they say – ‘No plan survives first contact with the enemy.’ So what do you think?”

“If we can get to Starshine City and warn them, we could save the station,” Zuri thought out loud. “They might even be able to get the Princesses to send some soldiers!”

The others started nodding, then they all turned to look at Needle.

“What? Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“You wanted to hear the plan before you agreed to it,” Spring said.

Needle signed. “All right. From where I’m standing, yes, it seems like the best option. But! I’m going to keep an eye on you, because even if you feel fine, you haven’t finished healing yet.”

With the plan agreed to, or at least compromised on, the four of them descended single-file down the ship’s ladder into the labyrinth of maintenance tunnels that crisscrossed the underbelly of the station. Hey Key took the lead, stopping at intersections to read signs posted on the walls. Needle couldn’t make heads or tails of the arcane sequences of letters and numbers, but they seemingly made sense to their guide, who always confidently chose the next direction after reading them.

The corridors were invariably claustrophobic, with barely enough room for the four of them to walk single-file. Occasionally a pipe or similar would protrude from the ceiling enough for Hex Key to warn them all to duck, to avoid smacking heads or horns into unyielding steel. The air was suffused with a pervasive low-frequency hum that was felt as much as heard. After they had navigated the warrens of ducts and conduits for several minutes, the hum suddenly died away. Hex stopped in his tracks.

“They’ve shut down the traction motors,” he said quietly. “Maulwurf has stopped moving.”

Hex shook his head as if dislodging a thought, then continued down the corridor. He eventually led them to what appeared to be a headquarters of sorts for the station’s maintenance operations. There were a hoof-ful of offices and a caged-in area filled with tools. The maintenance personnel had done their best to personalize the space and make it almost cozy, including the addition of a calendar whose images were most certainly not safe for work.

Hex headed straight into one of the offices and returned with a large key ring in his mouth. He unlocked the tool crib and started loading up a belt with tools, some of which Needle could only guess the purpose of.

“I don’t know if I’m going to need all of these,” he said as he worked, “But it’s better to be prepared.”

The sound of a loud clang echoing down one of the tunnels outside the maintenance offices caught everypony’s attention, and they all spun around to look.

“Somepony’s here,” Hex said, just above a whisper. He bent down and picked up a large wrench in his mouth, wielding it like a club. The others did the same, choosing weapons of their own. Needle decided to follow suit, choosing a weighty-looking pipe and holding it up with his magic.

With wordless coordination, they all spread out in different directions, slowly creeping towards the nearest corridor and carefully peering around corners. As Needle slowly advanced down the corridor, he heard the clip-clop of hooves coming his way. In the distance, he spotted a pony wearing tactical barding in the distance. He quickly retreated behind the corner, took a deep breath, and readied his pipe. He waited until the hoofsteps were almost upon him, then swung the pipe around with as much force as he could muster.

He felt it connect with a meaty crack, and heard the sound of somepony crumpling to the floor. To his surprise, he also saw a flash of green light from around the corner. He took a tentative look, and was shocked to see an insectoid form sprawled across the deck. Its carapace was a pale blue-green, two delicate wings sprouted from behind shells on its back, and a curved horn sat atop its head. It was also wearing a tactical vest, which seemed entirely out of place.

Needle heard the others coming up behind him, having heard the commotion.

“Needle, are you alright?”

“What is that?”

“It’s a changeling!”

“Should we tie it up?”

“Are we…are we being invaded by changelings!?”

Their words faded into the background as Needle realized what he had done. His butt hit the floor and he let the pipe fall to the deck with a clatter.

“Celestia forgive me,” he muttered. “I’ve broken my oath! I’ve killed someone!”

“It’s not dead,” he heard Zuri say.

“What?”

“Look!”

He looked up to see that, indeed, the changeling was stirring. It pressed a hoof to its forehead with a groan, and then opened its eyes; insectoid compound eyes that were gold in color. His friends kept their weapons at the ready.

“Needle Prick?” it said.

“Who are you? How do you know my name?”

The changeling struggled to its hooves, keeping one pressed against its head, where Needle could see that a painful-looking welt was beginning to form. He felt a pang of guilt upon seeing it. The changeling steadied itself by leaning against the bulkhead.

“Maybe this will explain some things,” it said, then its body was suddenly engulfed in green flames. Needle and the others instinctively took a step back, even though there was no heat. When the flames died out, a familiar burgundy-coated unicorn was left standing there. After a few seconds the mare made a grimace and clutched her head, and with another blast of green fire the changeling was back.

“Rosette?” Spring breathed.

“What have you done with the director?” Needle accused. He saw Hex Key readying his wrench again out of the corner of his eye.

The changeling frowned. “I am Rosette, you idiot!”

Needle narrowed his eyes. “Prove it. Tell me something only she would know.”

The changeling Rosette rolled her eyes, a move that she seemed to immediately regret with a wince. “You like to sleep with a stuffed chimera named—”

“Alright, alright! That’s enough! I believe you,” he shouted, waving his hooves in front of his face. “But that means…”

If he hadn’t already been sitting, Needle would have fallen on his rump. This revelation seemed to shock him more than armed ponies invading the station. He had dated Rosette for almost a year and he had no idea. In a way, though, he wasn’t too surprised; he could never shake the feeling that she was hiding something from him.

“Are you saying that the director of the station has been a changeling this whole time?” Spring asked. Then she added, carefully, “That’s not bad, is it?”

Zuri shook her head. “No, just a little unexpected. Well, maybe more than a little. Changelings are really rare; some people thought they were extinct.”

“Why the disguise?” Needle asked after managing to get his mental hooves under him again.

“You have no idea what it’s like to be a changeling nowadays,” Rosette explained. “You think that just because Princess Purple-Smart wrote a decree three hundred years ago, that everything would be sunshine and rainbows? Half the ponies I’ve met want to see me in a glue trap, and other half want to stick me in an endangered species preserve. I just wanted to be normal!” She stomped a hoof in frustration. “But I didn’t come here to talk about my life story.”

“Wait a minute,” Hex Key said. “You were in Control Section, right? Didn’t those soldiers…you know…?”

Rosette hung her head. “I was a fool. There were ten of us, armed with fire extinguishers and staplers, against forty soldiers with assault rifles. I took out a few, but I only had one magazine for my pistol. We didn’t stand a chance. I barely made it out of there alive, and only because I was able to disguise myself as one of the soldiers.”

She clenched her eyes shut and took a shaky breath. Needle thought he saw a tear fall to the deck.

“Those ponies…they looked up to me, they trusted me to lead them, and I led them to their death!” She stomped her hoof again. “But I saw you four down here, and I know what you’re trying to do. I’m going to help you in any way I can.”

“How did you know we were here?” Hex asked. “The cameras—”

Rosette gave a wry chuckle. “Oh, I knew all about Grease Stain’s little camera trick. I let him think he got away with it because he does good work. You’re lucky I saw you first and cut the feed before those goons spotted you.”

***

The utility ship that Hex Key had spoken about wasn’t very far from the maintenance offices. It was stored in a small hangar, surrounded by other large pieces of maintenance equipment. The name Toybox was crudely stenciled on the side in white paint. Hex walked up to it and patted the hull fondly.

“She may not look like much, but Toybox here hasn’t let us down yet.”

In Needle’s opinion, “may not look like much” was being somewhat generous. Superficially it resembled a space-borne pickup truck, with room for four occupants in the front and an open cargo area at the back. The cockpit wasn’t enclosed at all, merely being enveloped by a roll-cage-like framework of metal tubing. Propulsion was provided by a set of kinetic thrusters mounted to the underside, between the landing skids. They looked like they could be swiveled to provide thrust in any direction. Overall, it appeared to be quite a nimble little ship, if ill-suited for the journey ahead of them.

A curse tore Needle’s attention away from inspecting the ship, to where Hex Key and Rosette stood at the console by the large doors that took up one wall of the hangar.

“What’s wrong?”

Hex made a frustrated noise. “I was hoping to use Grease Stain’s administrative access to bypass the security lockdown, but I can’t. His master key doesn’t work.”

“Let me try,” Rosette said and began tapping at the console. She, too, seemed to meet with failure, judging by the irritated stomp of her rear hoof.

“Damn them! They’ve disabled system access from anywhere except the control room.”

“So what does that mean?”

“It means we can’t get these doors open, and we can’t get Toybox outside,” Hex said. “Sorry guys, but it looks like we’re stuck.”

“Not quite,” Rosette said thoughtfully. “Every airlock is equipped with a manual override, to keep anyone from being caught outside. If we can get to it, we can force the airlock to cycle.”

The news didn’t cheer up Hex at all. “Yeah, I know that. But the manual override is mounted on the outside. It doesn’t help us at all if we can’t get to it!”

By that time, Zuri had wandered over. “Rosette, couldn’t you just disguise yourself as one of the soldiers and talk your way out of the station?”

Rosette shook her head. “It takes some concentration to maintain a different form, and with this headache that Dr. Prick gave me, I don’t want to risk my disguise failing at the wrong time.”

“Wait…we’ve slept together…” Needle said slowly. He tried to avoid shuddering at the thought, mostly successfully.

Rosette cocked an eyebrow. “Yes, sleeping is one thing, but getting brained with a pipe is another matter entirely. But I’d rather focus on our current situation than my relationships.”

Needle turned away as the three began discussing various schemes to get a pony outside the station. He saw that Spring was still standing by Toybox, staring at the small ship.

“Spring?” he called to her.

“How far is it to Starshine City?” she asked, her voice small. She didn’t look away from the ship.

He didn’t know the answer to that, but he could make an educated guess. “About fifteen hundred kilometers, I think.”

“And we’re going all the way there…in that?”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“And we need to wear space suits the whole time?”

“Yes.”

The bravado she had been showing earlier evaporated in almost an instant. She swallowed and took a deep breath. Needle wasn’t sure what to say. He could understand her trepidation; the last time she had been in a small craft on the lunar surface, it had failed catastrophically. Then, the space suit she relied on had been punctured, and she had almost died. And it wasn’t some old memory, either – from her perspective, it had been less than a week ago.

He wasn’t well versed in the art of cheering ponies up, so the only thing he could think of was to give her a hug.

Once they broke the embrace, she gave him an appreciative look before turning towards the group standing around the door control console. Just then Zuri gave a quiet suggestion to the other two.

“What about the emergency coolant dump?”

Hex and Rosette both looked at her, then a smile crept up Hex’s face. “Of course! That’s perfect!”

“The emergency what?” Spring asked.

“The emergency coolant dump,” Hex explained. “Every system on Maulwurf that generates heat is cooled with a central loop of cooling oil, which runs to an array of radiators that pass the heat out into space. In an emergency, the oil reservoirs can be dumped overboard if the radiators can’t keep up and it gets too hot. I’ve seen the purge ports, they’re definitely large enough for a pony to fit through.”

“But how do we trigger it?” Zuri asked.

“Well, if I short some of the temperature sensors on the traction motors, I can trick the system into giving a critical overheat alarm. Then we just have to hope that the soldiers in the control room trigger an emergency dump.”

“So what do we have to do?”

Hex Key began to pace. “Okay, here’s the plan,” he said after a few moments of thought. “Somepony is going to have to go into the coolant reservoir. I’ll have to use one of these keys to open it up. Once they’re in, I’ll go down to the traction motors and send a faulty temperature signal. If the control room triggers an emergency dump, whoever is swimming in the reservoir will get…flushed out, and can make their way to the hangar airlock. They can cycle it from outside while I pilot Toybox through.

“The only thing left to figure out is who gets to be flushed,” he finished with a grimace.

Needle was incredulous. Everypony glanced around awkwardly at each other for several seconds; no one wanted to volunteer. He heard Spring take a deep breath from beside him, and despite the ludicrous plan, he had to act. There was no way he was going to let her subject herself to something like that, and he wasn’t going to talk her out of it once she’d made up her mind. So he did the only thing he could think of.

“I’ll do it,” he said.

Spring had opened her mouth to speak, and now she was regarding him with a surprised expression without closing it. Either Hex Key didn’t notice the exchange, or he decided not to say anything about it. “Alright, let’s get you fitted into a suit.”

There was a rack of space suits in various sizes against the wall. It seemed like they would be stealing someone else’s suit, since the unicorn suit Hex picked out had the name ‘Verdigris’ printed on the helmet.

“Who’s Verdigris?”

“She’s an EVA tech, and one of the best in my opinion. I’ve seen her do repair jobs in half the time as some of the other workers, and she’s not sloppy about it either. She’s also a damn good artist.”

Hex pointed to another helmet on the rack that had been painted with an image of a beautiful mare, looking backwards at the viewer with a sultry expression. Her cutie mark was an eight ball from a billiard table, rendered large enough that the edge of the ball was provided by the curve of the mare’s rump. Her tail was lifted seductively, and a looping banner beneath her read ‘Eight-Ball’ in gothic script.

Needle had never had to wear a space suit before, and he didn’t think they’d be so uncomfortable. It was tight around the joints and didn’t offer much freedom of movement, and he could feel where certain spots would start to chafe if he wore it for too long. As soon as the helmet was slipped over his head, his nose began to itch. He immediately satisfied the urge once the helmet came off again.

“That seems to fit well enough,” Hex said with a satisfied nod. “Come with me.”

Needle followed him as he left the hangar, and he heard the others wishing him good luck as he passed. Was this how the spacecraft pilots of old felt as they walked along the gantry to their rocket, towards unknown dangers and possible harm? He didn’t feel like pilot material; he was nervous, stiff, and felt like he had to pee. That was an urge he’d have to wait on.

After another journey through the station’s steel catacombs, they arrived at an unassuming hatch set into the floor of a small alcove. A sign on the bulkhead identified it as THERMAL OIL RESERVOIR A – INSPECTION HATCH 06. Another sign warned: DANGER – CONFINED SPACE – AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

Hex Key used his key ring to unlock the hatch, and pulled it open with a teeth-rattling squeal. Needle looked down into the black square, and could barely make out the surface of the coolant oil somewhere below.

“Thanks for doing this,” Hex said. “I won’t lie, I have no idea what it’s going to be like, but it’s probably not going to be pleasant. There will be three drains in the floor. Once the emergency dump starts, make sure you drop into one of them before all the fluid drains away, or the valves will close and you’ll be stuck in there.”

“How will I know when it starts draining?” Needle asked.

Hex gave a chuckle. “Trust me, you’ll know.”

He helped Needle put his helmet back on, then waited as the HUD projected on the inside of the helmet’s visor powered up. It showed that all seals were intact and that the suit’s pressure was stable, so Needle took a steadying breath and started to climb down into the hatch.

“Once you get outside, look for airlock C5. The purge ports are all on the same side, so you shouldn’t have to walk too far. When you find it, use the control panel next to it to open the inner door. Wait five minutes for us to get Toybox inside, then close the inner door, depressurize the airlock, and open the outer door. We’ll pick you up outside.”

Needle nodded. “See you on the other side.”

“Oh, hang on a second,” Hex said before Needle got too far in. “You’ll need this.”

He pulled a small towel out of his tool belt and stuffed it into the breast pocket of Needle’s suit.

“What is it?”

“It’s a microfiber cloth. Really good for cleaning up moon dust. I think it’ll come in handy.”

After nodding his thanks, Needle lowered himself the rest of the way through the hatch into the darkness beneath him, until he was hanging on only by the ladder that was welded to the inside of the tank. Another loud squeal and a clang echoed through the tank as Hex shut and locked the hatch above him.

Needle was now in pitch blackness and utter silence. He wasn’t claustrophobic, agoraphobic, or even nyctophobic, but he was fairly certain that there was a word for the fear of an oppressive black void with no way to see – wait. He reached up and tapped the button to switch on his helmet-mounted lamp. It cast a tight cone of white light ahead of him, and he could finally make out his surroundings.

The reservoir wasn’t as cavernous as Needle had imagined it, but it was still quite a large space. He could see several pipes protruding from the ceiling above him, pouring a steady supply of coolant back into the reservoir from the machines that used it. He could also see other ladders along the walls, leading up to other hatches.

The surface of the oil was only about a meter below him. With some muttered words of reassurance, Needle pushed off and performed a less-than-graceful flop into the liquid. After righting himself, he actually found it quite easy to stay afloat; he barely needed to tread water at all. He tried dunking his head beneath the surface (after instinctively holding his breath, for which he felt foolish), but his light couldn’t penetrate the oil to see to the bottom.

Needle floated around for a while, practicing his swimming in the strange liquid. The clock on his suit’s HUD ticked away for the better part of half an hour, until he thought he heard an alarm coming from somewhere above him. The next sound he heard was a series of mechanical slamming noises as, one by one, all the inlet pipes feeding into the reservoir had their flows cut off. Next, he felt a strange vibration through the oil, and ripples began to form on the surface. It didn’t feel like he was dropping, but as he watched, another rung on all the ladders breached the surface. The level of the liquid was definitely falling. He didn’t know where to position himself to fall into one of the drains, so he swam to about the center of the reservoir. He also found himself pondering the events in his life that led to him even wanting to get sucked down a drain.

With a metallic groan, the coolant level began dropping noticeably faster. Needle expected whirlpools or something to form, but there was no indication of where the drains were until he felt a current pulling him towards a wall. He let himself be dragged along, and suddenly he felt his hooves touch the floor of the tank. The bottom was slanted towards one side, and he pushed himself towards the deeper end to keep himself afloat. The undercurrent he was feeling on his legs increased substantially as he neared the wall, and he was just able to feel the bottom drop away from him before he was pulled beneath the surface with a stomach-churning lurch.

There was no sense of direction in the pipe, no way to tell which way he was facing or even which way was up. Needle was simply at the mercy of the flow as he tumbled, his legs and head repeatedly bashing against the sides of the pipe. He could do nothing but close his eyes and try not to be sick inside the suit. Just as he was wondering when it would end, the liquid, the noise, and even the gravity disappeared. He opened his eyes and was struck by a bout of nausea as his brain tried to reconcile and coordinate the signals between his eyes and his inner ear. He had just enough time to realize that he was plummeting towards the ground before he smashed into it, sending up a cloud of dust and oil droplets as he bounced. He tumbled and rolled a few more times before finally, mercifully, coming to a stop.

His suit’s HUD indicated that it hadn’t suffered any breaches, so he allowed himself to lay there on his back for a while. He felt queasy and his whole body was aching from where it had been banged around inside the drain pipe.

“Fuck.”

When Needle had caught his breath and his stomach had settled down a bit, he rolled over and pushed himself stiffly to his hooves. He looked down to see that the coolant and regolith had mixed to form a sticky grey mud that coated his suit from tip to tail, including his visor. He was about to wipe an equally filthy foreleg across it, when he remembered the cloth that Hex had given him. He pulled it out and swept it across his visor, and the mud was instantly collected onto the once white cloth. He could now see well enough to look around and get his bearings.

It was difficult to see in the darkness, and a few tests of his helmet lamp confirmed that it was broken. The light given by Maulwurf’s exterior floodlights were just enough to see that he was standing in the middle of a large puddle of coolant, not far from where the station’s huge caterpillar tracks were sunk into the soil. This close, the Maulwurf was absolutely massive; he had to look almost straight up to see the blinking lights on the traffic control tower.

“Alright, Needle Prick. You can do this. Airlock C5,” he said to himself. He stretched out his aching and bruised limbs; he was definitely going to feel sore in the morning.

Needle knew that the airlocks were lettered depending on where they were on the station. The “A” airlocks were located on the upper superstructure, such as the ones that opened onto the landing pads. The “B” airlocks were midlevel, usually used for maintenance purposes. And the “C” airlocks were on ground level, likewise only used for maintenance, or the occasional surveying group. They were all dotted with blinking yellow lights to allow them to be located in the dark, and he spotted one on the hull just behind the giant caterpillar tracks.

Needle started towards it – and almost fell on his face. Walking in such reduced gravity was going to take some getting used to, it would seem. With a little experimentation, he found that the easiest way to move forward was by hopping, but he had to carefully plan his movements in advance. Despite the reduced weight, his momentum was the same, so stopping or changing direction too quickly would result in him toppling over.

He hopped his way over to the airlock, and as he approached, he could make out “C1” stenciled on the door in cracked, sun-bleached paint. A strange emotion overtook him when he realized why that number was familiar: this was the airlock Spring Bloom had appeared in, just before he was called to give her medical attention. This was where it all started. He closed his eyes and shook his head to drive away the sensation. There were more important things to do right now than feeling nostalgic.

Needle also knew that the airlocks were numbered sequentially, but he didn’t know which direction they were numbered in. If he had a coin, he would have flipped it, but he had to make do by simply choosing a direction. He chose to go right. That turned out to be the correct choice, as the next door was marked “C2”. He followed along the hull in the same direction, spotting C3 and C4 as well. Finally, he came to a much larger door marked “C5”.

“Gotcha,” he said by way of celebration, and walked up to the control panel mounted to the hull beside the door. It took him a bit to figure out the controls; the default function looked like it would open the outer door first, which would be good for somepony trying to get in, but not what he needed to do. He had to poke around on the panel’s touchscreen until he found the function he wanted. He tapped the button to open the inner door, and although he couldn’t hear it, he could feel the vibrations by pressing a hoof against the outer door. Next came the waiting. Needle noted the time on his suit HUD’s clock, and sat down in the grey dirt to give Hex and the others enough time to load Toybox into the airlock.

To pass the time he looked out at the stars, and found them beautiful in a cold, distant sort of way. He had never really been able to see the stars from inside the Maulwurf, and at this moment he lamented that fact a little. He knew that the stars out there were all gargantuan spheres of light and heat, despite how faint and small they looked from here. Just like the one that orbited Equus, did those stars orbit planets of their own?

Needle realized with a start that he had waited just a little longer than he intended to. He got to his hooves and worked the controls again, closing the inner door and depressurizing the airlock. Once all the air had been evacuated from the chamber and the pressure within matched the vacuum without, the system allowed him to open the exterior door. As it slid open, he could see Toybox inside. The kinetic thrusters on its underside glowed gently and it lifted off, then slid noiselessly out of the hangar.

He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he saw them, the creatures he had begun to consider his friends, sitting in the little ship’s seats. Hex Key waved at him from the pilot’s seat, his ear-to-ear grin visible through his visor. He set the ship down a short distance away, and Needle carefully climbed aboard and strapped himself into the vacant seat. As soon as he was secure, Hex took off and immediately throttled Toybox in the direction of Starshine City.

Needle felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Spring grinning at him. She was trying to say something, but he couldn’t hear her words at all. She frowned, then turned her head to look at Hex in the pilot’s seat. Without warning, she turned back and put a hoof around the back of Needle’s head and pulled their faces together so that their visors were touching.

“Needle! Can you hear me?” she said. He could barely hear her through the vibrations conducted between their helmets, but her voice was just clear enough to make out. He nodded.

“Good! Hex says to tune your suit’s radio to nine-four-point-nine!”

He pulled away and started trying to figure out the suit’s more advanced controls, located on a fetlock-mounted screen. It wasn’t quite foolproof, but at least it didn’t allow him to do anything like shut off the suit’s life support or something equally foolish. Eventually he located the radio controls and was able to tune to the right frequency, signaled by a pop in his helmet.

“Hello?” he ventured.

“Hey, there he is!” Hex cried happily over the radio connection. “The hero of the hour! You, sir, are a steely-eyed missile mare.”

Needle had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but he couldn’t help but smile at the happiness in his and the others’ voices. Zuri, who was sitting in the copilot’s seat, twisted around to look at him.

“Pardon my language, but you look like shit. What happened?”

Needle shook his head. “Hex was right. It was not pleasant. I got rattled around and then spat out. I feel like a pair of dice at a Las Pegasus craps table.”

“Well, we appreciate your service, and thank you for joining us aboard Toybox Spacelines!” Hex Key announced as if he were the captain of a commercial spaceplane. “Our flight to Starshine City should take about five hours, so sit back, relax, and enjoy some complementary peanuts!”

Needle suddenly realized that there were only four people aboard. “Wait…where’s Rosette?”

“She decided to stay behind. We offered to take her with us, but she said she was needed at the station. She’s going to try to hinder the soldiers as much as she can from the inside,” Zuri answered.

“Oh.” Needle didn’t know why that bothered him. For some reason he had been hoping she’d come along with them, but he had to admire her loyalty to the station.

“By the way, that reminds me,” Spring said. “Rosette and I spoke a little while we were waiting for you to open the airlock. She admitted that she thought I was sent here as some kind of spy, or something. The worst she expected to happen was that some papers would go missing, not…this.” She waved a hoof around, indicating the entirety of their situation.

“So she believes your story now?”

“She said she doesn’t know what to believe anymore, but she trusts me to do the right thing, so that’s an improvement I guess.”

***

Their journey passed in silence for the better part of an hour. The only sounds to be heard were the faint vibrations from the ship’s engines, conducted through their seats. Needle noticed Hex Key glancing around, looking at the mirrors mounted to the outside of the cockpit, then he turned backwards to peer at something behind them. The others took notice as well, and they all turned around to look. Somewhere in the distance was a point of blue light, just above the horizon.

“Is that what I think it is?” Spring asked.

“If you think it’s another ship, coming up fast, then yes,” Hex replied. “Hold on!”

He immediately steered the ship down towards the ground, skirting the surface so low that Needle could make out individual rocks. Hex then put the thrusters into full reverse, shoving the passengers forward against their restraints. In record time, there was a jolt as Toybox’s skids touched down, then Hex quickly manipulated the controls to perform a complete shutdown. Within seconds, they were sitting in total darkness.

“We’re so small that it’ll be hard to pick us up on radar against the ground scatter. We’ll just have to hope they don’t have thermal scanners.”

“How do you know all this?” Needle asked.

“I used to work in a factory that assembled military aircraft. I know a few things, most of which I can’t tell you due to all the NDAs I signed.”

The four of them waited with bated breath, watching the ship in the distance as it grew closer. The ship continued to approach until it was almost on top of them, at which point Needle recognized it as a medium-sized cargo shuttle. The shuttle didn’t stop or even slow down as it passed overhead, and continued flying eastward towards Starshine City.

“What was that?” Zuri asked, almost in a whisper.

“I don’t know, but they didn’t seem to be looking for us. That either means that there are more soldiers heading for the city, or that some of the ponies on the Maulwurf managed to get away.” Hex reasoned.

They all looked around at each other with expressions that betrayed how likely they thought that would be. Wordlessly, Hex restarted the shuttle and resumed their course.

***

A few hours later, another point of light was seen on the horizon ahead of them. As it approached, it split into three distinct spots, indicating that there was a group of ships now coming their way, this time from the city.

“Could they be coming to help?” Zuri asked with cautious optimism.

“Or reinforcements,” Needle said grimly.

Once again, Hex guided Toybox down to the surface and landed, a little less haphazardly than before. And once again, the ships in the distance paid no heed to them as they flew far overhead, making a beeline straight towards the Maulwurf. Once they were far enough behind, Hex restarted the ship and pushed them onward.

“Guys, I’ve been thinking,” he said after a few seconds. “And it doesn’t make sense that they’d just attack a mining station in the middle of nowhere.”

“What are you saying?” Zuri said nervously.

“I’m saying that I think we should prepare for the possibility that those soldiers captured Starshine City first, and then came for the Maulwurf. We might not be flying into friendly territory.”

In truth, Needle had been thinking that as well, but he didn’t want to say it and dampen everyone’s mood. But since Hex had said it, he wanted to pick his brain and see what else he might glean from the situation.

“So let’s assume the city has been taken,” he said. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been there, but I don’t think the city has any defenses.”

In front of him, he saw Hex shake his head. “No, it doesn’t. It wasn’t built with armed incursions in mind at all. But the only ships we’ve seen so far are those cargo shuttles. It’s possible we’re dealing with a small band of mercenaries, rather than an organized military. They might have just taken the city by surprise.”

“But why?” Spring asked. “Why would anypony want to attack the city?”

“I don’t know.”

Once they had taken off and continued flying, Needle saw Spring’s helmet drooping out of the corner of his eye. He checked his suit’s clock and saw that it was past midnight. They had left the station at about eight o’clock, and had been flying for four hours. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, fatigue was beginning to set in. He felt his own eyelids grow heavy.

“Hey, Hex?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you doing all right? Do you need a break?”

“No, I’m good. I’ve pulled later shifts on the station.”

“Okay. I think we’re going to try to get some rest.”

***

The first sign that they were approaching the city came about an hour later, as the sun’s glow began to illuminate the eastern horizon. Hex advised them all to flip the reflective shields down over their suits’ visors, to protect them from being blinded by the sun. Within minutes, the source of the glow revealed itself as the dark disk of Equus peeked over the horizon. Perched just on the planet’s edge was the glowing orb of the sun, whose light cast a halo around the planet. The juxtaposition had the appearance of a glittering diamond ring on the horizon; this wasn’t the first time Needle had seen such a sight, but it was no less spectacular. He envied the citizens of Starshine City who got to see this every day.

Not long after, the lights of the city proper came into view. It was hard to make out the exact layout from this angle, but Needle remembered seeing maps that rendered the city as a spiderweb-like structure, with numerous peripheral research and factory facilities connected with trams to the inner core. As they approached one of these outlying structures, they were too awed by the sight of the glittering white buildings ahead of them to notice half a dozen flashes of light from the surface.

Toybox shuddered as something collided with it, then another, then another. They were being shot at! One of the fast-moving projectiles smashed through the cockpit, destroying most of the pilot’s display screens. Needle heard a scream over the radio.

“Shit!” Hex cursed as the crippled ship listed towards the ground, frantically operating buttons and switches with his free hoof. “The thrusters are hit! Landing gear stuck too…hang on, this is gonna be a rough ride!”

Toybox slewed drunkenly as it plummeted towards the ground. Hex yanked on the attitude control stick to pitch up just before impact, and the ship’s rear cargo compartment crumpled as it crashed into the ground. The cockpit of the ship hit next, rattling its occupants. The ship’s forward momentum was not so easily lost, and Toybox continued to slide forward along the dust.

“Come on, girl. Don’t roll over on me…” Hex coaxed. He continued to work the attitude controls, trying to keep the ship pointed forwards as its underbelly ground against the regolith. With a groan, the ship slowed and eventually stopped.

The radio channel was now filled with heavy breathing, but somepony was breathing much more frantically. Needle looked around to see who it might be, but Hex noticed first.

“Zuri? Zuri, it’s okay! Look at me. Just keep your hoof over the hole, just like that…you’ll be okay, just let me find something…”

Needle looked ahead to the copilot’s seat to see that Zuri was sitting with her right foreleg clamped over her left. He couldn’t see her face through her visor, but her breathing was clearly panicked. Hex quickly unstrapped himself and began desperately patting himself down and ripping open his suit’s pockets.

“Of all the days I forget…Celestia trample it! Needle! Spring! Is there a roll of grey tape anywhere near you? Look in boxes, anything!”

Needle looked around, but he didn’t see anything in the disarray of toolboxes scattered around him. He looked up at Spring to see that she was staring forward, with a death grip on the seat in front of her, trembling.

“Spring?” He put a hoof on her shoulder, but she didn’t react. He felt helpless; he had no idea how to handle trauma like this.

“Spring Bloom! Snap out of it!”

He started to shake her, and she suddenly reacted as if struck. She jerked away and stared at him through her faceless gold visor.

“Spring? It’s okay—”

“Okay? Okay!? No, none of this is okay!” She interrupted.

“Spring, please—”

“I’ve had it! Every spirits-damned ship I’ve ever been on has blown up or crashed or gotten invaded by fucking mercenaries! I FUCKING HATE SPACE!!”

“I get that! I really do. But right now, Zuri needs our help!”

Suddenly all the fury was gone from Spring’s voice, replaced with concern. “Zuri?”

“I got it!” Hex Key shouted. “Don’t worry, Stripes, I’m coming!”

Needle looked around and saw that Hex had found the tape he was looking for by scouring the field of toolboxes that had been ejected from Toybox’s cargo area in the crash. He bounded up to the left side of the ship and climbed back in.

“Okay, I need you to take your hoof off for a second. It’s okay, I’ll fix it.”

Zuri hesitantly released her hoof from her foreleg to reveal that a large gash had been torn in her suit. Needle couldn’t hear the outrushing air, but he could see the edges of the tear fluttering as it escaped. Hex quickly wrapped her leg in copious amounts of grey tape, covering the hole.

“Is that good?”

Zuri’s breathing began to slow. “I-I think so. There’s not so many alerts anymore. Y-yeah, the pressure is rising again.”

“Oh, thank the spirits…is everyone okay? Anything broken?”

“What was that!?” Spring cried.

“I have no idea. Some kind of anti-spacecraft weapon would be my guess. There haven’t been any follow-up shots since we landed, so I think we’re safe for now.” Hex shielded his eyes with a foreleg and looked into the distance, at the building they had been flying towards. “But we’re going to have to hoof it from here. It’s not far, thankfully.”

Hex helped Zuri unstrap herself and dismount from the ship, and Needle did the same for Spring. He couldn’t help but notice that she was still trembling. Before they set off, Hex walked around and began picking up whatever tools he could find and stuffing them into his suit’s pockets, including the grey tape. Once he had finished scavenging and returned, he tenderly placed a hoof on the totaled ship’s hull.

“Rest in peace, Toybox. You were a good ship.”

The four of them started walking towards Starshine City, casting long shadows behind them.

Author's Note

Special thanks to Mockingbirb for pre-reading, and for continuously reminding me that the things I might find obvious, others may not.

7 - Escape Velocity

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8 - The Science of Falling Apart

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9 - Thy Sea Is So Great And My Boat Is So Small

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4 - The Best-Laid Plans

The steady clip-clop of hooves echoed off ancient stone walls. A unicorn wearing a dark cloak made her way down the corridor, the weak light from her horn providing the only illumination. Dark streaks on the granite bricks indicated where torches had once burned; the wall sconces now stood empty. The unicorn reached a heavy oaken door banded with wrought iron and pushed it open.

These halls were remnants of a darker period in Equestria’s history, one of war and fear. The cold stone dungeons, yawning in infinite blackness, seemed to whisper the screams of those ponies who had suffered here countless centuries ago. Some of the chambers bore bloodstains that proved notoriously difficult to remove; almost as if the structure itself was tainted by their memory.

They had once gathered beneath Canterlot; the ancient royal city, long since exhausting any horizontal space to expand, began building upon itself, leaving a labyrinthine network of catacombs and warrens of the undercity. Meeting so close to their professed enemy, while satisfyingly ironic, was objectively foolish. Their new leader, mindful of the ever-present danger of discovery, had motivated them to move somewhere more remote.

This place was about as remote as one could get, if the chill in the air and the hoarfrost on the walls were any indication. Most of them did not even know where the dungeons were; there were no windows, and any exits were solidly barred. Entry was granted by teleportation circles scattered across the country. They would only work if the pony in question carried a talisman, unique to each member of their order’s leadership. Arrival would be met with an array of wards designed to detect the traveler’s true identity and hold them in place; they would only be released upon presentation of their talisman and recitation of a pass phrase. There were doubtless other wards, more subtle, but these were kept hidden to mitigate the possibility that the unworthy could gain access by forcing a single member to divulge her secrets.

Secrecy was the new policy of the Children of the Night. Their previous attempts to usurp the unholy monarchy of Equestria, despite enjoying extraordinary success at first, ultimately ended in failure. But like the hardiest of plants, their roots had survived, and they continued to grow beneath the surface. Their strategy now, under a new leader, was to silently consolidate their power. Let the false goddess believe them to be dead. They would continue to manipulate their way to power behind the scenes, planting operatives in corporations and government offices, and setting their plans irrevocably in motion. Only then would they tip their hoof, show the world their strength and the power of the true goddess of the Moon.

A final door stood between the unicorn and her destination. She pushed it open and entered the wide, circular chamber, making sure to close it behind her. The light from the enchanted orbs ringing the walls was just enough to make out five others gathered in a half-circle at the center. She could also see their leader behind the podium, facing them all. The hood of his cloak was pulled back, showing the unicorn stallion’s dark blue coat and black mane, trimmed short.

She was not the last to arrive. Although there was no punishment for being last, she did not like to be, due to a subconscious sense of punctuality, perhaps. She took her place in the circle. They were eventually joined by two others to make nine.

Their leader levitated a book from the podium in front of him and opened it. He turned to a page near the beginning of the tome and began to read aloud to the others.

“Our Mother, who sleeps in the sky, guide us on the path to righteousness.”

As one, the other figures chanted a phrase in Old Ponish:

“In umbra Luna est.”

The leader spoke again, with the chorus chanting between each phrase.

“Forgive us our sins, and empower us to spread Your word of truth.”

“In umbra Luna est.”

“We carry out our holy duties in Your name: to smite the wicked and depose false goddesses.”

“In umbra Luna est.”

“We remain faithful that you may descend, and cast your silver light upon the worthy.”

“In umbra Luna est.”

The leader closed his book and replaced it on the podium.

“The hour approaches. We are close to fulfilling our destiny. Our brothers and sisters are gathering in Vanhoover. The designs for the Armillary are ready. Our faithful at Roughshod Firearms have set aside several hundred weapons and over a million rounds of ammunition. Within a matter of days, our fleet will take to the skies and descend upon the unholy city the Sun Tyrant has allowed to be built upon Her throne.”

Their leader paused before continuing. “There is one thing yet to do, however: we require three more spell matrix crystals for the Armillary. Our brothers at the salvage yards could acquire them easily, but they are useless if imprinted with a teleportation spell. No, these must be fresh.”

He turned to the unicorn, and she felt the fur at the nape of her neck stand up under his gaze. “You have served me well in the past, and so I entrust you with one more task. There is a shipment of spell matrix crystals being transported from the mines tomorrow. Could you plan for the…reallocation of a few of them?”

The unicorn nodded. Despite his euphemism, she knew exactly what he meant and what she needed to do. “It will be done, Master.”

“Outstanding,” their leader said with a smile. “Fillies and gentlecolts, the stars are aligning and guiding us on our holy quest. I have absolute faith in every one of you, and all of our disciples, that you will play your parts perfectly when the time is upon us.

“May Luna’s light shine upon you all.”

One by one, the hooded ponies turned and filed out of the room.

***

Evergreen poked her head into the oncoming torrent of icy air and took a deep breath. She always felt more at home in the cold, and the frigid air filling her lungs was invigorating.

“How can you stand that?” She heard Dusty call from behind her, shouting over the wind blowing past the troop shuttle.

Evergreen pulled her head back from the open side door and turned around. She saw Dusty regarding her with a disbelieving shake of his head, and Strawberry simply giving her an amused smile. They both were wearing thick winter clothing, including face wraps and goggles. Evergreen’s garb was light by comparison, though she still wore goggles; she couldn’t risk an errant snowflake in the eye during the mission.

Evergreen shrugged in response to Dusty’s question. “I dunno. I like the cold.”

Dusty shivered. “Ponies weren’t meant for this weather. I can feel my lips chapping just looking at you.”

The three occupants in the troop bay braced as they felt the transport bank to the right. Evergreen could see the craggy slopes of the Yaket range through the window in the door on the opposite side, the grey rock dappled with snow.

“I’m coming up on the target now!” Leeward called from the open door to the cockpit. “Get ready to jump!”

Evergreen pulled open the side door and leaned out again. In the distance ahead of them, she could see the sleek, high-speed train, running on rails that wound their way along the mountainside. That train carried their haul: pristine spell crystals, fresh from the mines, yet to be imprinted with a spell matrix.

Evergreen heard the kinetic thrusters increase in pitch as Leeward pushed the troop transport to rendezvous alongside the train. There was no risk of being spotted; the locomotive was completely automated. They wouldn’t notice their missing cargo until it arrived at its destination, provided they didn’t do anything monumentally stupid like crash the train.

With practiced ease, Leeward deftly maneuvered the transport to hover less than a meter above the train as it flew down the tracks at 250 kilometers an hour. With a mechanical groan the rear ramp winched open, followed by a blast of mountain air and a flurry of windblown snow. Evergreen, Strawberry, and Dusty quickly made their way down the ramp and hopped the short distance down to the roof of the train.

Once they were all aboard, Evergreen put a hoof to her throat microphone. “Alright Lee, we’re on the train!”

“Copy that!” came the response as the transport pulled away. Leeward retreated the ship to a safe distance, but still kept pace with the train.

Careful not to lose her footing on the slick metal roof, Evergreen made her way to an access hatch. Dusty shattered the latching mechanism and yanked it open with a quick spell, and Evergreen couldn’t suppress a smile. Her unicorn friend had never been the most dexterous with his spellwork, but when it came to brute force he was second to none. The three ponies dropped inside the train and shook themselves a bit, grateful to be out of the buffeting wind. Dusty pulled his goggles off and let them dangle around his neck.

They all knew what to do next. One by one they traveled between cars, making their way to the locomotive at the front. Once they reached the controls, Strawberry crouched down next to one of the consoles and pulled a tablet from her jacket. She plugged it into a data jack and tapped at the tablet for a few moments moment before cracking a wide grin.

“I’m in,” she said dramatically. Evergreen and Dusty both rolled their eyes.

“Brace yourselves,” she continued. “We’re about to lose a whole lot of—”

She was interrupted when they all almost lost their balance at a sudden change in the train’s speed. It wasn’t, however, slowing down as they had all expected; no, the train was speeding up. And quite dramatically at that.

“Woah!” Evergreen heard Leeward shout over the radio. “What’s going on down there? The train just kicked into high gear!”

“Strawberry, what’s going on!? I thought your virus was supposed to slow the train down!”

Strawberry’s eyes grew wide. “I don’t know! I don’t know why my code isn’t working right!” In desperation, she yanked the cable from the console, but the train’s speed didn’t change.

Dusty ran up to the operator’s station and pulled the throttle lever all the way back, then mashed some buttons before giving up and turning back to the others. “I’m completely locked out! Does this train have an emergency brake or something?”

“Kinda,” Strawberry said meekly.

“’Kinda’!? What do you mean, ‘kinda’?”

“There is an emergency brake, but it’s tied into the main control system. If we’re locked out, we can’t activate it. There’s no manual backup.”

“Who the fuck designed this stupid… okay. Work the problem.”

Dusty paced in a few tight circles before rounding on Strawberry. “Can you fix your virus?” he asked.

Strawberry quickly shook her head, making her cream-colored mane flip into her face. “I don’t have any of my editing software with me. And even if I did, I couldn’t debug a complex computer virus while we’re hurtling through the mountains! We don’t have that much time!”

“Well then shut it down or something!” Dusty demanded.

“I can’t!” Strawberry shot back. “That was the entire point of the virus, to lock it out so the controllers couldn’t get the train moving again once we stopped it. But that means that nopony has access, not even me!”

“Who the hell thought that would be a good idea!? You should have designed a back door, or something!”

Strawberry dropped her tablet and leapt to her hooves. “Oh, look who’s suddenly the software expert! I’d like to see you develop a virus that can invade a sophisticated PTC system in a day!”

“HEY!” Evergreen shouted. “That’s enough! Every minute you two spend bickering, this train just gets faster. We still have a job to do.”

Strawberry and Dusty looked at her and nodded.

Evergreen heard Leeward in her ear again, more worried this time. “Hey, can you guys hear me?”

“Yeah, we hear you. Some technical difficulty with Strawberry’s control virus.”

“I’m sorry!” she heard the mare wail.

“Well, you’re pushing 300 now. Any faster and I’m going to have trouble keeping up. Plus there’s some bends in the track up ahead you might be worried about.”

“Copy that. How soon until the next curve?”

“Based on your current speed, I’d say…about five minutes.”

“Alright. Strawberry, stay here and see if you can regain any kind of control of the train. Dusty, with me. We’re going to have to get these crystals passed to Leeward on the move.”

Evergreen pulled open the door and stepped across to the adjacent car, watching the sheer rock face fly by on one side and the nauseating drop on the other.

They passed through the cars until they reached one stacked with wooden crates. Dusty pulled one open to reveal their prize: a single huge quartz crystal, roughly hewn into a teardrop shape. It was carefully packed and padded with sawdust to avoid damage during transport.

Dusty let out a low whistle. “Look at that beauty.”

Evergreen looked up to the ceiling of the car and saw another roof access hatch.

“Dusty, if we get you up there, can you use your telekinesis to pass the crates into the ship’s hold?” she asked.

“If Leeward can hold her steady I should be able to, yeah,” he replied.

Evergreen helped move the other crates around to form an ersatz staircase up to the hatch. Dusty clambered up the crates and stuck his head out of the hatch, pulling his goggles back on to shield his eyes from the wind.

“Alright Leeward, here’s the plan,” Evergreen said over her radio. “We’re in the fourth car back from the locomotive. Pull up above us and Dusty will throw the crates into the ship through the roof hatch.”

“Copy that. The next turn is coming up soon, so get ready,” Leeward responded.

Evergreen saw Dusty duck back into the train car, his eyes wide. “Shit, he wasn’t kidding. I gotta get down before—” he was interrupted as the train suddenly hit the left-hoof turn, causing all the contents of the car to shift to the right. Evergreen swore she felt the car itself lean to the right as well. Dusty cursed as he lost his footing and tumbled down the pile of crates and landed in a heap on the floor.

“Ow.”

“Are you okay?” Evergreen asked as she ran over and helped him up.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he grunted. “I’ll be feeling that tomorrow, though.”

“That was pretty sketchy, guys,” Leeward said over the radio. “I don’t think the next one will be so gentle.”

“We’ll deal with that when we get there,” Evergreen replied. “Are you in position?”

“Just about,” came the reply as a shadow moved over the roof hatch. “You’re gonna have to make it quick. I’m almost maxed out on my throttle here.”

Dusty climbed to the top of the crates again, took one of the crates on the floor in his magic, and pushed it up through the hatch, poking his head through after it.

“Okay, lower the ramp!” Dusty said over his own radio. “Almost…got it! Here comes the next one!”

Dusty ducked back in and grabbed another crate, then pushed it through the hatch before standing back up.

“There’s another turn coming!” Strawberry’s panicked voice suddenly burst over the radio, moments before the entire car heaved to the left. Evergreen heard Dusty cry out in alarm, followed by a dull thud as something heavy bounced off the roof of the train car.

There was no questioning it this time; the train was definitely leaning towards the massive drop, far enough that the wheels on the right-hoof side were probably off the rails. Evergreen looked up and saw Dusty bracing himself against the roof hatch with his forehooves as his horn lit up with a yellow glow. Soon the entire train car was wreathed in the same glow, and Dusty grunted with effort. His forehead beaded with sweat as Evergreen realized he was using his magic to keep the entire train on the tracks.

After what felt like an eternity, the glow faded and the car leveled out again with a crash as the wheels fell back on the rails.

“Is everyone okay?” Leeward asked. A chorus of affirmative responses followed, including a shaky “yes” from Strawberry. The poor girl had probably pissed herself, Evergreen thought.

“A little more warning would have been nice, Lee!” Evergreen called out on the radio.

“Sorry! I was only paying attention to flying a fifteen-tonne troop shuttle at three hundred kilometers an hour right next to a train!”

Noticeably exhausted, Dusty picked up another crate and passed it through the hatch.

“There. Second crate aboard,” he said after a few seconds.

“Another curve ahead,” Leeward warned.

Dusty nodded and braced himself against the roof hatch, before lighting his horn and enveloping the train in magic again. The train heaved to the right this time, and Evergreen felt the wheels pick up off the tracks once more. With a wordless yell of defiance, Dusty poured more power into his telekinesis and kept the train from tilting any further. Evergreen heard the screech of steel on stone as the sides of the cars dragged against the cliff face. Finally, Dusty released his hold and let the cars slam back on the rails.

“Okay…last crate…” he panted.

“You can do this Dusty,” Evergreen encouraged.

He managed a weak smile, but didn’t respond as he shakily levitated a third crate and pushed it out through the hatch.

After almost a minute, he let out a tired breath. “Alright, that’s the last one.”

“Outstanding. I’ve got some good news and some bad news,” Leeward said. “The good news is that there aren’t any more sharp curves for what looks like a few kilometers.”

“What’s the bad news?” Dusty asked.

“The bad news is that I’m at full throttle now, and the train is still speeding up. You’re going to have to get off fast, or you’re not getting off at all.”

“I’ll go first,” Dusty said. “I can help levitate you up if you need it.”

“No offense, Dusty, but I don’t think you’re fit to levitate anything right now.”

He gave her another smile. “I know you believe in me. So I don’t need to believe in myself, I just need to believe in the you that believes in me.”

Evergreen wondered how that could possibly make sense as Dusty climbed through the hatch and onto the roof. She heard a thud and scraping noise, and realized that Leeward had probably dropped the ship’s ramp right on the roof to give Dusty the best chance of climbing aboard.

“Okay, I’m on!” she heard Dusty call over the radio. “Take Strawberry and move back a few cars! Leeward can’t keep up anymore!”

Evergreen moved through the train cars towards the front of the train, trying to ignore the mountains flying past noticeably faster, or the chunks missing from the sides of some of the cars. When she reached the locomotive, she found Strawberry curled into a trembling ball in the corner, her tablet forgotten on the floor by the console.

With a pang of concern, Evergreen knelt by her side. “Strawberry? Come on, honey, we gotta go. Let’s get you off this train.”

Strawberry said nothing, only curled tighter on herself when the train leaned around another slight curve.

Evergreen stood up, took a breath, muttered a quick prayer to Luna (the real one), then leaned down and shouted in the mare’s ear.

“STRAWBERRY SURPRISE! ON YOUR HOOVES THIS INSTANT!”

Strawberry yelped and jumped to her hooves so fast Evergreen was afraid her head would hit the ceiling. She stood there like a deer caught in headlights, as if seeing Evergreen standing there for the first time.

“Come on! I don’t know about you, but I want off this wild ride!”

Strawberry nodded quickly, then scooped up her tablet and stuffed it in her jacket.

With a nod, Evergreen turned and jumped to the next car. She heard a whimper behind her at the door, and turned around to see Strawberry petrified at the small gap.

“Don’t look down. Just step across. You can do it, I know you can.”

Strawberry tore her eyes from the tracks below and focused on Evergreen, then with a few preparatory breaths, stepped over the gap and through the open door.

“See? Just a few more of those and we’re home free,” she said. Strawberry didn’t look entirely convinced, but at least she wasn’t a quivering wreck anymore.

“Leeward!” Evergreen said into her microphone as they continued to move through the cars, “How far back do we need to go?”

“Ten cars should do it, as long as you make it quick!”

She heard Strawberry give an audible gulp, but she didn’t say anything else. Wordlessly, the pair moved through car after car. Some of them were empty, but most were filled with more crates of spell matrix crystals.

“What a shame,” Evergreen mused. “This many crystals would have fetched a king’s ransom.”

At the tenth car, the two mares stacked the crates into a small pile up to the ceiling. Strawberry winced every time the train leaned on a corner, and Evergreen couldn’t help feeling worried herself. She climbed to the top once the crates were stacked and pushed the roof hatch open. She could see the rear of the ship ahead of them, with the ramp open and Dusty standing inside. The ship was pushing toward them with alarming speed. Upon sighting her, Dusty turned towards the cockpit and shouted something.

“I’ll keep her as close to the deck as I can,” Evergreen heard Leeward say on the radio.

Evergreen climbed back down and motioned for Strawberry to go up. “You first.”

Strawberry needed no other convincing as she scrambled up the crates, but froze with her forehooves on the roof and her hindlegs still planted on the top crate.

“Strawberry?”

“I…I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You’re getting in that ship if I have to grab your ass and chuck you in there myself.”

She heard Strawberry make a sound that might have been a laugh, or maybe another whimper, but she took the hint and climbed the rest of the way onto the roof with wobbly hooves.

“She’s on board!” Evergreen heard Dusty shout over the radio a few seconds later, and she allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief.

Her relief was soon interrupted, however, by a squeal of metal and a crash as the ship’s ramp collided with the open hatch and smashed it shut right over her head.

She heard several curses over the radio, followed by “Wait…that gives me an idea. Evergreen! Move to the last car!”

She did as she was instructed, moving several more cars back until she was at the end of the train. She once more stacked up a few crates and pushed open the roof hatch, to see the rear of the ship rapidly approaching from several cars ahead.

As the train pushed its way beneath the ship, Leeward maneuvered it so that the lip of the ramp caught in the gap between the car three cars ahead and the one behind it. It slid slightly from side to side, but seemed to hold. The extra load on the train caused it to slow substantially, and Evergreen almost slid off the roof.

“Hot damn, that actually worked! Okay, Evergreen, we’ve only got one shot at this.”

Evergreen carefully walked along the peak of the roof until she reached the gap between her car and the one ahead of her. It took every ounce of her self-control not to look at the tracks below as she took a breath and jumped. Her hooves made contact with the roof of the next car, and her legs splayed out as she struggled to retain her footing like a foal trying to ice skate for the first time.

One more jump, then two, until she was almost to the ramp, still wedged between cars, grinding slightly as its pilot desperately tried to hold it steady against the constant motion of the train.

“It’s now or never, there’s a tight curve ahead!”

Evergreen dropped all pretense of caution and galloped towards the ramp. She could see Dusty leaning out the back of the ship holding his hoof out, the other grasping a roof strap.

She was only a few meters away from the ramp when the train hit the curve, and several things happened at once:

The train whipped around to the right, and the laws of physics yanked the tops of the cars to the left.

With a final shriek of grinding metal, the edge of the ramp popped free from the gap between the cars.

And with a cry of “SHIT!”, Evergreen was thrown from the roof and began to plummet through the icy air, down into the mountain valley below. She was able to see a faint yellow aura forming around her body, but it wasn’t enough to slow her descent.

Just as she was making peace with her inevitable demise and uttering her final prayers to Luna, she felt a pair of hooves wrap around her barrel. She looked up and saw Leeward, face contorted with effort and wings beating furiously, arresting her fall.

Slowly, they stopped falling and began to ascend.

“By the stars, girl! You need to lose a few kilos,” he grunted.

Despite the situation, she couldn’t help but laugh. “Hey, I’m just big boned.”

Somewhere below them, an enormous racket sounded from where the train impacted the valley floor. Evergreen chanced a look down, and saw only a heap of twisted metal scattered across the snow.

Leeward flew them up back up to the tracks where, exhausted, he dropped Evergreen and then collapsed into the snow, panting heavily. Evergreen perked her ears at a low whine in the distance, and lifted her head to see the troop transport making its way back over to them. It swung around and backed up to the ledge then dropped the ramp, revealing Strawberry standing in the bay, eyes wide and pale as a sheet beneath her fur.

“I think this mission just took a decade off my life,” she said weakly as Evergreen and Leeward trudged aboard. Leeward replaced Dusty in the cockpit and began to fly them away, and Evergreen strapped herself into one of the jump seats along with her other two allies. She looked at the three wooden crates strewn haphazardly on the deck.

“But I think it was worth it,” she finished.

***

Midnight clouds drifted across the sky, mottling the light from Luna’s moon. A beam of this light fell through a high, barred window into a lonely stone room. A single unicorn sat in the center of the small room, unmoving, as a stick of chalk wreathed in cerise light flitted its way about, making marks on the walls, floor, and ceiling around her.

This room bore many marks. Some were old, carved into the stone or painted in a liquid that had dried to a dark brown. Most, however, were new, scribed by the crimson unicorn in the center of the room. She turned her blindfolded head to follow the chalk as it swept across the walls, mumbling quietly in words nopony would ever hear.

When Luna’s moonlight had been replaced by Celestia’s sunlight, the crimson unicorn was gone, replaced by a group of others. The first to enter the room was a unicorn stallion, midnight blue with a close-cropped black mane and three overlapping circles upon his flank. He took in the designs, marked on every surface of the room, careful not to smudge the chalk lines on the floor with his hooves. Most of the markings formed words, lines of text scrawled at various angles seemingly at random.

The moon came in. I saw it. I saw Her light.

We must join and walk together in the light. It burns Evermore as it dips below the sea.

Judgement lies near. When the shadow ascends and swallows the Light. A Prophet in white.

He knew there was a meaning, a pattern. Once he had the chance to study them further, he knew that her predictions could be found encoded in these messages. Unfortunately, he feared that he would not have enough time to go over the writings with his usual meticulousness; his plans were being set into motion and required much more of his direct attention.

One of the lines caught his eye, if only for the fact that it was repeated several times across the walls and ceiling.

Beware the Six

“Interesting,” he muttered quietly to himself.

Some of the chalk lines formed abstract patterns he could not discern the meaning of. There was one design, however, he could recognize. It was drawn on the wall immediately opposite the window, in such a way that the beams of sunlight would illuminate it perfectly. The stallion found the hint of a smile creeping onto his face – almost as if she knew, he thought, before adding, Of course she knew. She always knows. You needn’t lose faith in her, Syzygy.

“What is it, sir?” One of the other ponies asked, who had entered the room behind Syzygy.

The design depicted a unicorn, covered head to hoof in a long cloak, hiding his eyes from view. He held what appeared to be a long stick or staff in his hooves, with five other sticks standing behind him. What was curious about the drawing, however, was that it was entirely upside-down. Syzygy had to cock his head to one side to properly make it out, and to see that there was a Roaman numeral six below the figure.

“I do believe it is a rendition of a tarot card. They have different meanings depending on whether they are upright or inverted.”

Syzygy turned toward the others in his group.

“Take photographs of the entire room. I want every square inch documented. Once that is done, copy down every line of text.”

The other ponies nodded and began to file out of the room to collect their camera gear.

“And one other thing,” Syzygy added, “I would appreciate it if you could look up the meaning of that tarot card.”

The pony nearest him uttered a quick “yes sir” and continued out of the room.

Syzygy paused to look around the room a moment more, then followed the others out of the room. The ponies ahead of him turned right, but he turned to follow the stone corridor to the left. A few steps took him to another doorway, blocked with a heavy timber door banded with iron. The bar across the door glowed with a pale blue light and swung out of the way. The door, in turn, glowed the same way as he gently pushed it open.

His treasure sat in the middle of the windowless room, staring upwards in the direction of the sun, almost as if she could see it. Her breakfast sat untouched on the floor before her. He knew she could hear him walking towards her, but she didn’t react. Her ears didn’t even move.

He sat beside her, pressing himself up against her diminutive frame. He said nothing for a long time, simply enjoying the warmth of her body against his.

“Do you remember?” he said, almost in a whisper.

With a barely-perceptible shake of her head, she indicated that she did not. That was okay though – she almost never remembered.

“You drew a tarot card last night.”

She finally spoke. The sound of her voice made his heart flutter. “The spirits must have said something important.”

After a long pause, she spoke again. “I wonder what it means.”

“I do not know yet,” he said. “I was hoping you could tell me that.”

She turned her blindfolded eyes to look directly in his.

“Do not tell me what I wrote.”

The fur on the nape of his neck stood up. He raised his hooves in a defensive gesture. “I wasn’t going to. I just hoped the spirits would have allowed you to remember, is all.”

“If the spirits have deigned that I do not remember the visions, then it is for a good reason. I have told you this.”

He sighed. “Yes, you have.”

She turned to look back up towards the sun, but there was no light or warmth to be found in this room.

After a few more moments he stood and left the room, closing the door behind him. As much as he wanted to be there with her, there were more important things that needed doing right now. He strode down the hallway with a renewed sense of purpose, into the room where the others were diligently taking photographs of his beloved’s writings. A grey earth pony stallion wearing a tactical vest and a sidearm loitered against the wall, standing guard in duty if not poise.

“Blackwater,” Syzygy said.

Upon hearing his name, the grey stallion straightened up. “Sir?”

Blackwater was ex-military, dishonorable discharge of some sort. Syzygy had long ago abandoned any attempt to get him to remove the vest or sidearm; it almost seemed like they were extensions of his body at this point. But he was loyal as long as the paychecks cleared, and could get the other mercenaries to fall in line, which was the only thing Syzygy cared about.

“All of the cargo ships are already in orbit, aside for two. There was a delay in the shipment, and they will be loaded up tomorrow morning at Vanhoover. I want you there personally to oversee the operation.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Wheels up at six o’clock sharp. I want this going off without a hitch, understood?”

“Understood.”

“Good. I’ll arrange personal transport for Crimson and myself and rendezvous with you in orbit to coordinate our jump.”

“Copy that.”

Syzygy once again entered the hallway, this time encountering his wife’s doctor. The large mare held a syringe in her mouth.

“Chlorpromazine?” He asked, to which the doctor nodded.

“Give her extra amobarbital tonight. I’ll be taking her into space tomorrow morning. I’d like you there to monitor her.”

The doctor simply nodded again before pushing her way into Crimson’s room.

Author's Note

Special thanks to Mockingbirb for pre-reading and suggested edits.